#actually the last three mentioned titles i only have in swedish

[sflow-er]

ˏˋ°*♡➷ get to know me ༊*·˚

I was tagged in this lovely game by @lazybug16 and @bluedalahorse - it was so much fun seeing both your 'moodboards'! 💜

The idea is to pick a favourite movie, character, animal, drink, song, season, book, colour, and hobby and present them as pictures.

I'll put a list/explanation below, but it's going to be long, so let's do the no-pressure tags first: I think most people have been tagged already, but I can't keep up. So I'm just going to tag a few people whose names I don't think I've seen and apologise if you've already been tagged - or even made a post that I've missed!

@scatteredpiecesofme @silvagrey @groenendaelfic @raincitygirl76 @plantbasedfish @palehottubchild and anyone else who'd like to do this!

Movie: I've got a lot of faves in a lot of genres, but The Princess Bride (1987) has been one of my comfort films since childhood. I never could resist a good fairytale! I kind of wanted to use an ensemble poster to fix the severe lack of Inigo Montoya in this Westley/Buttercup one, but I think this fits the moodboard better, both aesthetically and thematically (because there's a lot of romance on this board).

Character: Again, there are lots of options! But I want to pick 1) a woman, and 2) a longtime favourite, so... Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. Either book Lizzie or 1995 BBC Lizzie played by Jennifer Ehle will do. Who doesn't love an intelligent and determined woman who is loyal to her loved ones, speaks her mind, and grows from her mistakes? Oh, and who only warms up to the handsome aristocrat gentleman with a massive estate after he listens to her criticism, makes up for his mistakes, and demonstrates some character growth?

Dolphins: Love them. Happened to see some wild ones in Ireland this summer. Keeping them in captivity for humans' amusement is heinous.

Coffee: The thing about coffee is, if you don't drink it, you often feel like a nuisance when visiting people in my country. Especially older people, who don't necessarily keep tea in the cupboard. So, I learned to drink it in my late teens despite hating it at first, and once my tastebuds had adjusted, I fell in love.

Song: Swing Life Away by Rise Against. A very simple acoustic ballad about love, friendship, and how little you actually need to be happy in life. It's also mine and my spouse's song that was even played at our wedding ceremony (without vocals on guitar, violin, and double bass).

Season: I am very much a four seasons kind of person, but I guess spring might be my favourite.

Book: I've got so many to choose from, but I wanted to pick something queer, so: Torka aldrig tårar utan handskar, Jonas Gardell's trilogy about young love and the AIDS crisis in Sweden. It's absolutely fantastic and absolutely heartbreaking (not a happy read!). It's also been adapted to an excellent three-part TV series that can be found on Youtube with English subs. (Short English trailer, 6-minute Swedish trailer.)

Gardell is also a fitting choice because it was his recommendation on social media that got me to watch Young Royals, and I wouldn't be here on tumblr without YR.

Colour: My favourite colours are red, green, and dark grey. I've been in a green phase lately and it fits this moodboard best.

Hobby: Video games. I've been a PlayStation gamer for well over 20 years. I mainly play adventure and roleplaying games; titles with good storytelling and worldbuilding. Some of my favourites include older Final Fantasy games (up to FFX), the Uncharted series, Life is Strange series, Mass Effect trilogy, The Last of Us Parts I & II, Heavy Rain, Until Dawn, and Telltale's The Walking Dead 'seasons' 1 & 2.

In keeping with the theme, perhaps I should also mention that some of my fave WLW ships are from video games! Ellie/Dina from TLOU: Part 2, Nadine/Chloe from Uncharted: Lost Legacy, and Chloe/Rachel from LiS: Before the Storm (although I do love Max/Chloe in LiS OG too).

Thanks again for the tags, this was fun!

[assassinsdragons]

Fic Claim - LCDrarry 2023

Title: Champions of Karlstad Word Count: 18,3k Rating: Explicit Tags: Ice Hockey AU, SHL, Swedish Hockey League, 2022-2023 SHL Season, Färjestad BK, Luleå HF, Set in Sweden, Sports Rivalry, Rivals to Lovers, Hockey Typical Violence, Sexual Content, Mentions of Blood (nosebleed) Summary:

Draco signs a contract with Färjestad BK, one of the top ice hockey clubs in Sweden. Draco's long-time rival, Harry Potter, refuses to play with Draco, but still chooses to follow him to Sweden, signing with another Swedish club. Is screwing with Draco's life all that Potter really cares about, or is there some other intent behind his annoying behaviour?

Link to ao3: Champions of Karlstad

Excerpt:

The week between Christmas and New Year’s passes in a blur of practices, rain and two more games. One home game against another crowd favourite; Leksand IF (which Draco and his team won four against zero). And then one away game against the tricky IK Oskarshamn (which they also won, six-three).  By the time midnight strikes and the new year begins, Draco is feeling more than confident about what the new journey around the sun will entail. In fact, he’s feeling exhilarated, and perhaps a little arrogant. Not only has his team won all three games Draco has played with them this far, but he can also revel in the fact that Luleå have lost their last two games. Earlier today he even indulged himself, sending a better luck next time message to Potter.  To his surprise, Potter called back almost immediately only to curse at Draco, loudly and at length, before hanging up again. It put a smile on Draco’s face that still decorates his face while he watches the fireworks exploding in the sky outside. 

Author's Notes:

I'm patting myself on the shoulder, telling myself "Well done, you" because this has been a difficult journey. But I did it.

In my planning doc for this fic, I've previously written two messages to @sleepstxtic, who prompted a sports rivalry to this year's edition of @lcdrarry. Those messages are as follows:

Hullo there, Kat. It’s me. One of your many, many fans.  I won’t lie. It took a lot of courage for me to sign up for this prompt. Remembering what you wrote last year for bodiceripper, recalling the tension and emotions you created with your words. How can I ever live up to that? Truth is, I can’t. I can only try. And I knew, when I saw the prompt, that the only thing I could do to make the prompt justice, would be to call your obsession with tennis, and raise you my own: I had to write an AU about the one sport I’m completely engrossed in myself. Ice hockey.  I guess I’ve been looking for an excuse to write a hockey AU for quite some time already, and you finally gave it to me. And I guess that’s why I finally steeled my nerves, took a deep breath and plunged into the scary waters of writing for you. I signed up…

***

I have a question for you, Kat. Do you even understand what a struggle it was for me to write about something that made me so excited I couldn’t get my hands to stop shaking? That I couldn’t sit still enough to actually write for? That constantly made me sidetrack and focus on the actual ongoing ice hockey season in Sweden? Would you like to see my notes of planning for this fic and read about all my meltdowns over what happened during games I watched and whatnot? I guess it’s a journey of its own to read all of that. There are 21 pages of it available if you want it. Just tell me, alright? Cheers.

It's not that strange that I was so excited. Drarry? And ice hockey? AND FÄRJESTAD BK?! Together?!?! My brain literally melted.

As time flew by, my excitement for this prompt wasn't the only thing that made it difficult for me to write this fic, though. I was scared to write something subpar to what you deserved. To what my beloved FBK deserved. I was afraid that what I wrote wasn't worth reading. But I kept writing, slowly.

Real life knocked on my door. Uni studies and whatnot. Suddenly I had like five extensions past me and time was up. The fest was due to be over in only a couple of days.

I saw the end, I could see the horizon of the story. I was almost done. So little left, but it felt like so much.

I did it. At last, I did it. I finished it. On time!

(or, at least, in time before the fest was over... on time would've meant i finished it much earlier...)

So. I've got a long list of thanks I need to send out.

Let's begin with @celilasart. The incredible mod of Lights Camera Drarry who has a bottomless well of patience and care inside her. You always have a kind word to offer when one needs it, and you're always so encouraging. I've already sent you several thanks on ao3 and on Discord, but truth be told, I can never thank you enough. Please never forget how amazing and wonderful you are.

Moving on (before I start crying with gratitude for Celila), I want to thank @ununquadius for being my friend and for cheering me on through these past months. I don't know how you can bear with me, all the CAPS MESSAGES and rants about a sport you don't even understand. But you've always stood by me. You believe in me. You check in on me and my progress. Thank you, love.

@tsundanire. Jay. I'm sorry, alright. Just know I'm really sorry. Crashing into your house DMs, bringing a loud ruckus with me, demanding to know why the fuck I can't find an English term for this or that when it comes to hockey. Random questions about differences between NHL and SHL that are barely coherent. Please don't hate me forever. I'm still your friend. Just tell me what to do to make it up to you.

I didn't give you much time, @brightluminae , (I'll admit I didn't give myself much time at the end) but you still managed to help me sooo much, straightening the story out. I asked for cheers and help with fixing some wrinkles, and you came through brilliantly. Thank you so so so much for your help, my friend. Without you, I'm certain I wouldn't have been able to finish this before the fest ended.

AND LASTLY. @ladderofyears. Emma. Emma. Emma. Emma. EMMA! How do I even start? You're a champ, I think we all can agree on that. Writing and drawing your own submissions. Offering countless people help with proofreading their stories. Always encouraging people – friends or not – to keep going, believing that they can do it. And on top of that, you've spent five whole months with me and this story. You've been there through every struggle, through all ups and downs. My love and gratitude for you is neverending.

Cheers and love to everyone, and I hope you enjoy reading the fic.

[havsgast]

What is your favorite book(s)?

Usually, my favourite book ends up being whatever I’m currently reading.

But I’m not currently reading a book so… /shrug/.

I won’t call any of these a favourite, but I hold a fondness for The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, The Hobbit, and The Earthsea series. I’d also like to give an honourable mention to The Secret Life of Sparrow Delaney and Ghost of a Chance.

[germanicseidr]

Frey

Frey is the Germanic God of harvest, peace and fertility. He's the twin brother of Freya and possibly the most loved God of all the Germanic deities, which makes sense considering that the harvest and fertility were one the most important aspects of Germanic life in peace time. Judging by his character and attributes, he could also be one of the oldest Germanic deities.

Frey is being described as part of the Vanir tribe. He owns a ship, Skidbladnir, which has the ability of being able to fold up so that it could be carried inside a pocket. He is often depicted with his boar, Gullinbursti, who has a golden mane and can run faster through air and water than any horse. Further more he is often depicted with a huge phallus, which symbolizes his fertility, and a sword.

The meaning of his name is incredibly similar to his twin sister's name. Both Frey and Freya are titles rather than personal names. As I have explained in an earlier post, Freya means 'lady', the same seems to be true for Frey. Frey literally means 'lord', the word is derived from the Proto-Germanic 'Frawan' which means lord. The actual true name of Frey is therefore uncertain but we have a very likely theory.

Several archeological finds, written sources, still existing traditions and place names have been discovered that have a link to this deity. There is also a theory that might explain Frey's actual name. Yngvi is the name often linked to Frey and might actually be a much older name to describe this deity than Frey is. But why? Frey is a name, or rather a title, that seemed to have been used in the early medieval ages, especially during the viking age. The name Yngvi however has been mentioned by Tacitus back in 98AD.

Tacitus described a region which belonged to the Ingvaeonic people, Ingvaeones can be translated into 'son of Yngvi'. The Ingvaonic people are said to have been descended from Yngvi who in turn was a son of Mannus, Mannus himself was a son of Tuisto, better known as Tyr the oldest deity of the Germanic pantheon and former chief God. This theory might actually be the only, pre-viking, attempt in making a family tree of the Germanic Gods. It gives us an interesting insight in the ancestral tree of the Gods before the medieval ages. The modern day Ingvaeonic offspring are: the Dutch, North-west Germans and the Danish people.

Another source linking the name Yngvi with Frey comes from the Ynglinga saga written by Snorri Sturluson. In this tale, that tries to legitimize the reign of old Norse kings by linking them to Frey, Frey is being mentioned as Yngvi-Frey. If Yngvi is really the true name of Frey, that means the Inguz rune is bound to him. There are also many modern day names in the Swedish, Danish, Dutch, Frisian, old English, Norse and Incelandic language that are linked to Yngvi, per example 'Inge' and 'Ingrid'.  

The old English Runic poem, written somewhere during either the 8th or 9th century, contains a stanza about Inguz which seems to confirm the link between Yngvi and Frey:

"Ing wæs ærest mid Eástdenum gesewen secgum, oð he síððan eást ofer wæg gewát. wæn æfter ran. þus Heardingas þone hæle nemdon."

"Ing was first among the East Danes so seen, until he went east over the sea. His car followed. Thus the Haerdingen called that hero."

Here he is also described as 'first of the Danes' just like Tacitus had done many centuries before this poem was written down.

Most of our written and archeological sources however come from medieval Scandinavia. Adam of Bremen, a German chronicler from the 11th century, has written down several Scandinavian pagan practices and mentioned the God Frey with his Latinized name 'Fricco':

"In this temple, entirely decked out in gold, the people worship the statues of three gods in such wise that the mightiest of them, Thor, occupies a throne in the middle of the chamber, Woden and Fricco have places on either side. The significance of these gods is as follows: Thor, they say, presides over the air, which governs the thunder and lightning, the winds and rains, fair weather and crops. The other, Woden that is, the Furious—carries on war and imparts to man strength against his enemies. The third is Fricco, who bestows peace and pleasure on mortals. His likeness, too, they fashion with an immense phallus." - Adam of Bremen, Gesta Hammaburgensis

A statue of Frey has also been found in Södermanland, Sweden in 1904. This statue has been dated back to around the year 1000 and is made entirely out of bronze. The statue is about 7 centimeters tall and depicts Frey with a beard, hat and an erect penis. Interestingly enough, ancient wooden statues have been found inside bogs, in both Denmark and the Netherlands, that depict a figure with an erect penis. These statues date back to the bronze age and might perhaps be the earliest representations of Frey.

Unfortunately we do not exactly know how the ancient Germanic people worshiped Frey. There are several theories based on present day traditions and historical research, by comparing Frey with other fertility deities. One of these theories, based on the fact that Frey is almost always depicted with an erect penis, is that Frey might been linked to certain unknown sex rites. It is of course completely unknown what these rites would have been like, perhaps by singing? Adam of Bremen mentioned in his work that certain raunchy songs were sung in temples.

Another theory, which might date back to the Proto-indo European culture, is that the people might have honoured or sacrificed a horse's phallus. Another, perhaps the most wildest theory, concerns the description made by Ibn Fadlan, a 10th century muslim traveler who witnessed a bizare ritual surrounding a burial. According to his words, a slave girl that was sacrificed, was first put through several sexual rites, it is unknown if it was basically a rape or part of an ancient ritual, perhaps a ritual based on the worship of Frey.

There is still at least one existing tradition that can possibly be linked to Frey. This tradition, which I have practiced myself as well, is practiced in the Netherlands right after harvest. According to the tradition, the last piece of harvest is left behind on the field and made into a doll figure to thank Frey for the succesful harvest and blessing the land for next year's harvest.

Frey certainly is a fascinating deity and we still have much to learn about him and the history behind the people who worshiped him.

Here are images of: Frey by Johannes Gehrts, Swedish Frey statue, Danish bog statue of a possible ancient depiction of Frey, A map showing the Ingvaeonic people in red, A Dutch harvest doll,

[dafukdidiwatch]

I’m actually pissed that this is a decent movie.

<A lot of spoilers>

Overview: Arctic Researchers/Scientists stumble on Nazis who live in the center of the earth who have survived by replacing their dying tissue for living ones in a bid for immortality.

And in order for me to talk about this film, I have to talk about this:

Fucking Sky Sharks.

I hate that movie.

I hate it So Much.

I bought it from a Walmart for $10 so what a waste of movie.

The first like, 10 minutes was the movie dragging on showing everyone in the plane in the worst way possible. An old swedish man watching shitty CGI sci-fi porn. A weird gang turn priest man which I for sure might have been the main character but had the weirdest backstory that goes no where and does nothing. Some drunk guy wanting to flirt with a stewardess and the joke is that she wasn’t a super model 20 something. So after going On and ON THEN the sharks come in to show how epic they are.

And they also suck ass. I couldn’t give a shit about the CGI this is a movie about nazi sky sharks I walked in not expecting quality.

Oh yeah, Nazi’s. Forgot to mention the Nazis. Because, you know, they made the sharks. And are also zombies who rose again to take over the world. And our first look is a female blond haired officer killing people in the longest and dullest way possible. Like, there is only so many ways you can decapicate a bunch of people with wires.

After that, move into the “plot” with random ass girl #1 and random ass girl #2 where girl #1 is also in the Antarctic (shocker) and finds a boat, goes in by herself without help/backup, finds out the zombies are not only in there, but also shark tanks because this is where they were raising the sharks.

So to recap: In the COLD NEGATIVE FROSTBITING SNOW COVERED DREADNAUGHT the nazis are not only alive and NOT freezing, but the great white sharks are also alive and NOT freezing. You can say bs science, I say bs movie.

Oh and you know what the sharks feed on?

Misogyny.

God this movie hates women so much. First, multiple porn shots/sexual harassment jokes on just the plane alone (again, first 10 minutes). Then the “sexy” female zombie commander because that’s what was in the Nazi Military: Women. Not saying shit about history or anything, just saying that I know a fetish when I see one. And the Random Ass Girl #1? The reason why she was at the boat in the first place is because she was on a solo rescue mission to help some researchers who found the boat. A Guy and A Girl. The Guy was like, killed normally or shot or something I couldn’t give a shit about. The Girl was stripped naked, hung upside-down by her foot, bare naked ass shown to us, as she is fed to the shark tank.

Yeah, real women friendly.

It also doesn’t help that when Random Ass Girl #1 gets stabbed with, I guess zombie venom for ReAsOnS, she has a shower scene where it shows her being affected and poisoned under her skin....but also how Hot she is by having it shot on her boobs, check, body stretching and curling to show ALL of her body. While under a show that’s in the middle of the fucking room like it’s Hannibal Lector’s bathroom.

And you that that would be the reason I hate this movie but it isn’t dammit. The movie was dull as hell. I’m only talking about the Misogyny for so long because it was the only thing that was actually worth mentioning. I didn’t give a shit about anything else!

The acting is bad and just monotone across the board. Apparently RAG#1 and #2 are like, rich spies from a super rich family corporation which took me a full as 20 minutes to realize. And they have no idea how the fuck to plot a movie! Finding out the sky sharks were because of Dear Old Granddad, results in THREE! SEPERATE! FLASHBACKS! EACH MORE BORING THAN THE LAST!!! I have no idea how you made working with NAZIS dull as shit but this movie found a way. Instead of having the history set in the beginning of nazis doing shit as a teaser to explain later, he just tells his fucking life story of how making Sky Sharks would save the Third Reich. And I Couldn’t Give A Shit.

It got so dull and bored that I literally fast forward through the entire movie to find interesting parts. Spoiler: there was none. Not even with more sharks like eating the world could it entertain me. I just fast forwarded to the very end, and only watched 30 minutes of a 90 minute movie. God I hate Sky Sharks.

So WHY am I bringing it up? Well, it really did set expectations and a bar for Nazis at the Center of the Earth. They both have rediculous titles that you can’t take seriously or expect “great things” from. They both deal with nazis, zombie-ish nazis, genetic research, scientists in the Arctic, and Nazi’s hiding in the Arctic. That is a lot, and I just watched Sky Sharks like 2 weeks before so this was very recent and absolutely in my head.

Which is WHY this movie was a very pleasant surprise.

We start with seeing Nazis doing action pact Nazi shit escaping for science! It even has that Wilhelm scream, but the movie has plot and vision. It didn’t make the nazis seem any more than being just army soldierd and has decent action and sets expectation for the rest of the movie.

And that’s like the big difference between this and Sky Sharks: The Treatment of the Nazis. The nazis here were treated, in my view, as powerful and dangerous. They are meticulous, uncaring, cold and distant. The head Nazi is actually Dr. Mengele, he is in this movie, and he is just so apathetic to everyone.

All the Nazi’s faces were covered in mask so you couldn’t see their faces, making them inhuman. And the first Nazi face we do see is Dr. Mengele as he just, slowly cuts the face off of a person. Methodically. Meticulously. He doesn’t even talk, doesn’t react as the person begs. Just does it. And was going to do it to the girl as well but because she kept talking science, he allowed her to live.

But it was close.

In the beginning it feels like two different movies because it cuts from two researchers who got kidnapped by Nazis surviving their own horror movie trying to escape, and the rest of the researchers being in a Survival Rescue Movie trying to find them. I honestly wanted to see more of the Nazi part because that was the more engaging section. It was filmed, framed, shot as a tense horror movie, where you don’t know if she will live or die.

I also want to approve of the lack of misogyny. Like, first, the Nazis are equal treatment terrible to everyone. They shot one of the researchers who wandered in because he was Jewish. (”I’m non-practicing” lol love that line). Second, the scenes that they did were filmed in a way to highlight the horror but not the sexiness of it. The guy and girl strapped to the table, they are both naked. We don’t see the whole naked body, just enough to establish it while censoring the rest. You see Dr. Mengele looking over them, but there isn’t sign of lust. He is viewing them both as just experiments (which also adds to the horror aspect but I digress). One of the girls ends up being thrown to the Nazi Officers to be raped and killed, but we don’t see that. She doesn’t have a shirt, but it isn’t films as a “sexy” moment, the camera doesn’t move or linger on her body. It is just a straight shot, where she tries to cover herself up. When they close in on her, crawling towards her, the camera focuses more on their approach than on her while at a distance. This is scary, but it isn’t sexualized. Which I approve and is a WAY PLUS from Sky Sharks.

This movie has an odd budget too. There is a lot of CGI. And it isn’t good. Not at all. It works to show things happening like CGI tanks...CGI snow/ice. CGI Robots and lasers. They don’t hide it at all. But then, they also have amazing makeup budget because the “ripping face scene” was amazing physical effects it looked so real. The Nazis are obviously frankenstein stitched up monsters, but they are well done in makeup and design. Like all the close up shit is amazing to look at.

Overall: It was an Alright Movie. Yes, there is plot. There is tension. There is fear trying to survive with the nazi. Bad CGI, and a bit campy at the end, but nothing to detract from the actual movie. It was a fun movie.

[perfectharmonyloveschaos]

Umbrella Academy Season 2 Titles Analysis

Just a forewarning I ramble for a lot of this but HOLY HECK I AM EXCITED FOR SEASON 2 AND MY BRAIN RAN WITH THESE NEW TITLES AND IT IS NEARLY 4AM SO IGNORE ME IF YA WANT I DON’T CARE ENJOY

Episode 1: ���Right Back Where We Started”

Not much to be said other than I don’t think this title is meant to be taken literally. From what has been revealed I’m assuming this episode will, as the title states, show us how the characters have reverted back to their old ways or as much as they can given the circumstances. Separated, needing Five’s sudden appearance to bring them together again and using the oncoming apocalypse the react without reacting to their own problems despite it probably causing the apocalypse because these kids need therapy. bad. 

Episode 2:”The Frankel Footage”

This one stumped me due to the fact that google insisted I wanted article after article of a racehorse who was hella fast in 2008 and I just had no clue what he could mean. I started researching, instead, the name Frankel to see whether or not there was anyone important in the 1960′s it could be referring to. The name originated from a German province called Franconia and the name seemed to come from a Jewish family in Vienna, and it seemed to be quite a popular name in America once that family spread across Europe and to the US. I’ve yet to find a person from America with that name who was of any significance during the 60s but I’ll keep looking for now, but other than that I have no idea about this episode.

Episode 3: “The Swedish Job”

At first, I just assumed this episode would highlight either the trio of Swedish Assassins after the Academy and moved along to look at more interesting titles. However, this title didn’t bring up much results when I did research it out of necessity. From what I found, there seemed to be recession in Sweden in 1960-61 which caused a decrease in jobs, but that didn’t seem that important to dedicate an episode title to, so I kept digging. The only other event I could find relating to this title was a robbery of the Swedish Royal jewels and crown back in 2018. but other than that I found nothing that could be linked to the Umbrella Academy in 1960s Dallas, Texas. Any addition to this one would be more than welcome.

Episode 4: “The Majestic 12″

The title suggests a tie-in to Reginald Hargreeves backstory which we were only introduced to late in the first season of show. The ‘Majestic 12′ as they were supposedly called claimed to be an alleged secret group of scientists, military leaders and government officials formed in 1947 by President Truman to help recover and investigate a supposed ‘alien spacecraft’. The concept of this secret group only emerged, however, during the 1980s so I have to assume that this episode will go further in Reginald’s alien backstory and his possible connection to the unique 43 births of October 1st, 1989.

Episode 5: “Valhalla”

This episode’s title suggests further exploration of Klaus and his powers over death, as well as the possible emergence of his other powers from the comics such as Telekinesis and Levitation.’Valhalla’, from Norse Mythology, was a realm where  half of the warriors who died in battle would go to dine with Odin and stay with him until he was of need of them by the time of Ragnarök. This “hall of the slain”, as it was roughly translated, definitely holds ties to Klaus and perhaps even Reginald Hargreeves himself as a similar figure to Odin with his infamous monocle and his future knowledge of the impending apocalypse. Whether or not Valhalla actually exists within the Umbrella Academy show universe and can be accessed by Klaus remains to be seen,  but I would not be surprised if Klaus was to die once again in this episode or perhaps at the end of the previous one and reunite with the little girl on the bicycle or even Reginald himself for another talk. Given the fact that fallen warriors arrive here, it would be the perfect place for Klaus to reunite with Dave, but given that he is now in the 1960′s before Dave’s death, I can only assume that will not happen.

Episode 6: “A Light Supper”

My first instinct for this title, given the seemingly play on words of the gospel account of ‘The Last Supper’ before Jesus was betrayed and crucified, suggested a further connection to Klaus and his connection to death and all-seeing fathers. Whether or not this episode features a betrayal or sacrifice, however, remains to be seen  but could hold significant ties to the previous episode and the state of Klaus’ powers.

Episode 7: “OGA for OGA”

From what I could find, an OGA can mean an ‘Other Government Agency’ which is a euphemism by non-military government offices for military offices or when such military offices refer to the CIA/FBI overseas. It can also be a charge of ‘Obstructing Government Administration’ when someone interferes (with violence/force/intimidation or anything physical really) with a public servant doing their duties. I can only assume that either or these meanings are connected in some way, but other than that I have no idea. Given that it’s military lingo, I can only assume it’s connected to Klaus and Dave in someway due to them being the only characters with a militant past.

Episode 8: “The Seven Stages”

The title of this episode brings to mind two possible connections with the ‘seven stages of grief’ and the ‘seven stages of life’ both possibly being reference. Both deal with opposing things but end with death as a finality; the seventh stages in both – in life it is dotage and death, while in grief it is acceptance or hope. Both of these connections hint back at my previous understandings of episodes 5 and 6, continuing to link towards the theme of death most commonly associated with Shakespeare’s poem “The Seven Ages of Man” detailing the passage through life. However, this title addresses all of the stages so I can’t exactly determine which it could fall under.

Episode 9: “743″

This episodes title suggests that it will centre being about Vanya, Klaus and Allison specifically. While this could be assumed to be the episode where these three are shown to be hanging out at the saloon in which Klaus’ hair and beard have been cut and we see him barefoot much like he is in the comics, whether or not these three specifically have a large role this season compared to Luther, Diego, Five and Ben remains to be seen. They seem to be the ones both adapting the best to their new lives in the 60s both in fashion and adjusting to the time, it would also be an exceedingly difficult time to them especially. Allison, because she is a black woman who must now adapt to a far more racist society than back in 2019 as well as exist in a time of racial discrimination and the fight for civil rights. Klaus, because he is struggling to become sober from constant drug use and now finds himself both in a time where everyone used drugs for pleasure and society was far more open towards it making keeping clean far harder, as well being a pansexual man who freely disregards gender roles and keeps his sexual and gender expression open for all to see nearly a decade (if we assume he arrived first with Ben in 1960) before the Stonewall Riots. And Vanya, as a emotionally stunned woman who spent most of her life forced not to feel due to Reginald’s pills who may or may not be also dealing with her own sexuality and learning to control her dangerous powers in a time when the Cold War was still occurring and tension between America and Russia, which judging from her name she may have been born in, was close to starting nuclear war. How each of these characters come into play may explore more with their powers and how the newest characters set to appear in this season seem to be possibly connected to them (we see Sissy in a car with Vanya, Raymond is a black man living within the 60’s who may help Allison come to grips with the change of the society she grew up in and Lila definitely sounds like someone Klaus would’ve gotten along with in the past) may heavily impact the finale. Another stray thought that entered my head while writing this was the fact that Klaus and Allison were placed together, similar to the theory that Klaus (and Ben by proxy if he is still dead) and Allison arrived first in the 1960s and seemed to be one of the first of the siblings to greet one another in the pilot of the show aside from Allison hugging Vanya and snapping at Diego for claiming that Vanya didn’t belong there after releasing her book. As well as that, both Vanya and Klaus were both locked away because of there powers by Reginald, and both have used drugs (while unintentionally by Vanya) to dampen their powers. These three characters share a closeness with one another that isn’t there with the rest of the family, aside from possibly Klaus’ friendship with Ben through being the only one to see him and Diego comforting Klaus late into the first season. So, I have to wonder given their numbers and Klaus’ growing powers, as well as Allison’s healed throat, whether or not Number 3 and Number 4 could take on and overpower Number 7? Whether or not the reference to their numbers have any importance, I don’t know, but it seemed worth a mention.

Episode 10: “The End of Something”

The title, after some research, could possibly be referring to the short story of the same name by Ernest Hemingway, detailing the collapse of a small town through the loss of it’s mill and how that loss reflected the characters’ relationships with each other and their environment. This story is based around the ideas of commitment and independence, tradition and modernity and how each of these combat one another. These themes, if to be shared with the story of the Umbrella Academy, would seem to hint at a conflict of interest between the family themselves and the possible rift forming between them. The relationship between the family, Luther and Allison, Klaus and Ben or Diego, Vanya and Luther… each of these have shown these themes and the battle between them throughout the first season. Luther wished to be the leader, to continue what their father wanted but the rest of them wish to move on from their trauma while Allison wanted to help Vanya and not commit the same cruel imprisonment that their father did. Klaus wanted to stay within the safety of his drug addiction keeping the ghosts at bay while Diego and Ben pushed for him to get clean. Vanya pushed to be accepted by the family while none of them knew how after how their father manipulated their childhood to lock Vanya out. The ambiguity of the title makes me thing as though the ‘something’ we are think will end is not the ‘something’ that will actually end, say their time in the past or the 60’s themselves with the death of JFK and Martin Luther King Jr. My first instinct is that, given how we saw the last episode seem to highlight Allison, Klaus and Vanya makes me think that perhaps the ‘something’ may be the Academy itself. Not in a physical sense, like them dying, but rather their bonds are the ‘something’ that end and these three are manipulated or convinced to leave the academy in order to find their own way and focus on themselves and their powers. Much of season 1 focused on specific relationships; Allison with Luther, Klaus with Ben/Diego, Vanya with Five/Allison. I can see these three growing into their powers and becoming more powerful as the season goes, pushing away from the rest of the family and perhaps into their new allies in order to escape the trauma of their pasts in order to create a new future. Whether or not this will happen, and the season ends with the Academy, the Hargreeves family splitting apart and ‘ending’ remains to be seen, but that’s my pre-season release interpretation of it based on the little we know. 

[helkiedustballs]

Mental Illness and the Horror Genre

An exploratory essay by Emma L. Gilbert

The relationship between horror media and mental illness is messy, and on many occasions outright screwed up. Today, I’m going to take you through various examples of horror films that utilize mental illnesses and disabilities, often as a central theme, and examine how exactly mental illness is used to benefit the tone of each film, and how some of them may or may not use it in a distasteful fashion.

Without further ado, here we go!

“Psycho” is the earliest film I know of at the moment that utilizes mental illness explicitly as a sort of evil or “villain”. The big reveal is that the character Norman Bates’s late mother developed as another personality inside his head which, very clearly, resembles Dissociative Identity Disorder (we will actually be talking about DID more than once today, as it appears to be the most common mental condition used in horror movies next to psychosis or schizophrenia).

I can only assume in the time of “Psycho’s” release, this portrayal was considered anything but realistic to general audiences (The term “psycho” is even considered a slur nowadays by a fair few mental health experts and activists). Mentally ill individuals were but a disturbed fantasy in the minds of the public, and in many ways they still are.

In more modern times, mental illnesses on the “scarier” side (like DID) are seldom understood or spoken about, and this makes them a very easy target to use as driving scare factors in horror films. We fear what we don’t understand, we know this, we’re talking about it a lot nowadays, but movies similar to “Psycho” that use such things as plot material for their stories still get made so carelessly.

Let’s dive into another example more thoroughly:

 “Midsommar” is a 2019 horror film directed by Ari Aster, the man behind “Hereditary” (which we will also be discussing). I know a lot of people love this movie, just like people love “Psycho”. It won just about every award from Fangoria’s 2020 “Chainsaw Awards”, which are completely fan influenced. But it completely missed the mark for me because of a couple instances involving disabilities. And while these instances are miniscule, it’s the fact that they are so miniscule, so “tossed in”, that bothers me.

My first problem begins at the start of the movie. We open with our lead fretting over an ominous email sent to her by her mentally ill sister, which is all well and good. But the ultimate result of this situation is that she was right to be worried, as her sister had hooked herself up to a car exhaust pipe which she used to poison herself and their parents, resulting in the death of all three.

This is… extreme. And while it’s absolutely okay to be extreme (I’m one of those horror fans that enjoys a little extremity), it’s peculiar, and yet not so peculiar, to have it alongside the aspect of the opening I’m about to explain.

The illness of the sister character is specifically labeled as bipolar disorder. Why is this specifically a problem for me? Mentally ill people can be dangerous, that’s an indisputable fact. But I’m gonna pause “Midsommar” here, because it’s a good time to shift over to a movie that I believe suffers the same problem.

 “Split”, both in the title movie and in the ensemble “Glass”, refers to anti-hero Kevin Crumb’s disorder as Dissociative Identity Disorder (there it is again!). This was a problem since the very conception of the first film, because it’s doing that thing where a mental disorder is used explicitly to make the villain of a horror film scarier. And while the character of Kevin isn’t ultimately seen as evil, the film still misconstrues many things about DID in order to keep its creep factor (like, people don’t wind up with evil alter egos who kidnap and kill people in a cult-like fashion, and people with DID do not go through extreme physical altercations when different personalities take the front).

This was many folks’ first introduction to the very concept of DID, just like back in the 60s with “Psycho”, and the movie does little to deter the audience from taking what they are seeing as factual. It really drives home the fact that Kevin has this disorder that is real, using that perceived realism to enforce the horror of its story. It uses a lot of typical “professional” imagery and dialogue, such as namedropping the disorder and having the character attend a therapist regularly on-screen. These things in film tend to equate in the general ignorant public’s mind to something bordering on or outright factual. While I choose to believe most people recognize the easy potential for illegitimacy in fictional movies, I still notice, even in myself, how further research is seldom enacted, and the information granted by that movie remains present in the back of our minds.

I’m not trying to say this is entirely the fault of the team behind “Split”, because I believe people should be responsible for recognizing that not everything they see is true, no matter how legit it looks. But the fact is that people are stupid and do take stuff like this as fact whether they realize it or not, and I think that filmmakers and storytellers should hold a little responsibility for making sure their highly fictionalized portrayals of real things (especially real people) don’t get taken as hard fact. Easy resources for understanding complex mental conditions are not popular enough or offered enough to garner the public’s attention; I’m sure someone would rather watch “Split” instead of reading a textbook on DID studies.

 All that being said, let’s go back to “Midsommar”. The mention of bipolar disorder is a one-time occurrence, but it still sticks out to me; both because I noticed a trend in Aster’s films of using mental illness explicitly (like I said, “Hereditary” comes later), and that this diagnosis is used at the ultimate expense of the sister.

Throughout the movie, Terri (the sister) is seen as a scary, taunting ghost through Dani (the lead)’s eyes. She is only ever depicted as that terrifying last picture of her, with tubes taped to her mouth and their parents beside her. She also seems to be looking right at Dani in these sequences, too, if I’m remembering correctly. It’s a fearful memory; her sister is a villain.

Using a disorder described as a “mental disorder that causes unusual shifts in mood, energy, activity levels, concentration, and ability to carry out daily tasks” to tie to a character that was unhinged enough to plug herself into a car exhaust pipe to kill herself and her family seems… like a reach, to me, at least. She would’ve had to plan that out- it takes serious dedication, supplies, thought, and time to pull that off. Bipolar people can be prone to sudden outbursts, not necessarily to planning and executing an intricate double homicide/suicide.

What I’m trying to say is that there’s no way bipolar disorder was the sole cause here. There were clearly more “things” she had going on, but the only thing they say is that she’s bipolar, therefore suggesting that is the reason behind what she did, and then treat her like a vengeful ghost the rest of the movie.

There is perfectly good reason for Dani to see her sister as something sinister, though. Literally the only aspect of this plot point that messes it up for me is that we have a “diagnosis”. It doesn’t feel right to me to use such a common and non-extreme illness for the sake of being like “ooh check this out, this is a real mental illness and mentally ill people do bad stuff sometimes, look at that! Look!” It’s lame, and unkind, and, like “Split”, borders on irresponsible. It’s times like this where a character’s mental condition could use a little more ambiguity, especially when it’s literally never brought up again. It’s so nonchalant, so careless, and that’s what bothers me.

Now, I’m gonna move away from mental illness alone for a hot second and explore how “Midsommar” treats its other disabled character.

“Midsommar” depicts an explicitly inbred character with a facial deformity named Ruben who lives with the Swedish cult and is treated like a sort of “higher being”. They are clearly treated with care, but through the gaze of the American characters, we see them as off-putting. And, again, this framing makes sense, as Ruben was purposefully conceived through incest because of some misguided religious belief that disabled people are closer to clarity.

But, stop; what is this portrayal doing, again? It is doing that thing where it uses a disabled character to give us the creeps. And this is made worse when Ruben goes on to kill and skin one of the American characters, and then wear his face as a mask.

Okay, listen. It’s wrong of the cult to purposefully bring a very physically and mentally challenged individual into the world for religious reasons, but that’s not relevant to my point. Yeah, it’s weird, but people like that character are real- and, no matter how they came to be, they’re here now. Why are we always looking at these people with pity or fear, and normalizing that reaction? It can be jarring to see someone who looks like that, sure, but they’re a person, and should be treated like one.

Oh, and not to mention having Ruben wear the skinned face of a “normal” person is absolutely representative of wanting to “look like everybody else”, which is a screwed-up narrative especially when you’re using the disabled person as a straight-up monster. I get the whole “skin the fool” thing, that was funny, but did we have to do that? This is Ruben’s “normal”, and that’s not an awful thing.

Before we reach “Hereditary”, I’d like to say that the utilization of deformed people as killers and monsters in horror is, I think, arguably more prevalent and inescapable than the use of mental illness by itself. It’s present to a point where we just have to deal with it and the amount of irreplaceably iconic villains with facial deformities, but I’d like to believe that we can do better and move past that. Make a monster, not a person.

 Let’s get cracking on “Hereditary” now, which I think uses mental illness as a much more core aspect to its story than “Midsommar”. Again, Aster makes it clear out the gate that our evil character (the grandmother) was indeed mentally ill, and this is, again, used at the character’s expense.

Now, I wanna keep this short, because with how much I went off talking about “Split” and “Midsommar”, I think that what I find troublesome about a movie called “Hereditary” about a mentally ill cultist grandmother passing on her “lifestyle” to her family is rather obvious.

I mostly want to discuss the character of Charlie, because her portrayal is what bugs me the most. My gripe with her is that she is very obviously autistic, or something along those lines, which is framed as a creepy thing about her. She’s supposed to be some kind of “chosen one” that her grandmother wanted, and I guess this was grounds to have her be the “creepy one”. But this can be done without making the character blatantly mentally compromised (and before anyone comes for me, I’m autistic, and despite the many wonderful things about it, it also does hinder me from some basic things in life, so, yeah, it’s compromising). It’s just so tacky, uninspired, and tired.

In regards to other characters, we see Annie speak of how her grandmother suffered from mental conditions (I can’t recall whether or not one was specifically named), and then watch her exhibit various “scary” symptoms herself (trying to set her son on fire, etc.), which grow worse post-Charlie’s death as she is wracked with grief. Annie’s case isn’t quite as terrible as things such as “Split”, as she never actually does anything, only attempts and then snaps herself out of it (before the end of the movie where everything goes to hell, of course). My main problems, as mentioned, are with Charlie and the grandmother, mostly Charlie. I just wanted to attempt to cover all “Hereditary’s” portrayals at least briefly before moving on to my next subject.

 Now that I’m done being mad, let’s explore another recent horror film that uses mental illness as a core aspect.

“Daniel Isn’t Real” is a 2019 film by Adam Egypt Mortimer about a boy (Luke) who experiences a traumatic event as a young child, which he copes with by manifesting an imaginary friend named Daniel. Daniel doesn’t stick around, though, as he tricks Luke into poisoning his mother, almost killing her, and resulting in the two locking Daniel away.

It’s incredibly easy to decipher the, once again, use of DID symptoms. One could easily push this movie aside due to this fact, as clearly, the mental illness is used as the spooky horror thing again. But I’m of the belief that this film handles itself a little better than the likes of “Split”, and here’s why.

It’s a bad thing to use mental illness as your villain, unless you do it right, and there is a way to do that. Luke (the mentally ill person) isn’t the villain, Daniel (the mental illness symptom) is, just like Kevin isn’t “Split’s” villain, but the important difference is that, in “Daniel Isn’t Real”, the audience sympathizes realistically with Luke, doesn’t turn his illness into something extremely outlandish. In “Split”, the audience is following the heroine, who is terrified of the outside force that is Kevin and his personalities. “Split’s” DID is otherworldly and threatening. “Daniel Isn’t Real’s” DID is threatening, but something the audience and Luke hold hands through and fight together.

Aside from some muddy metaphorical aspects (assuming I’m reading it right) and the use of some racial stereotypes common in horror films, “Daniel Isn’t Real” is on the upper end of horror featuring mental illness.

It is also worth noting that there is actually a specific mental illness brought to attention in the film, schizophrenia, as Luke is seen reading a book about it once he starts realizing he’s losing control of Daniel. But this is merely a suggestion, as he doesn’t actually know what is going on in his head and we never get an official declaration of his condition. This brief clip pretty much only helped in solidifying my perception of the story as about mental illness first, and a demonic imaginary friend second. If you ask me, I think dissociative identity disorder fits more with the film than schizophrenia, but my knowledge on both of these disorders is relatively “bare basics”, so take that with a grain of salt. And besides, from this point on I’m going to be looking at the portrayal mainly as an undefined trauma induced condition.

I view Daniel as a visual representation of Luke’s mental condition. He is rude, and childish, and malicious, nothing like who Luke is, who wants nothing more than to get rid of him. Mental illness can feel like there is some evil thing in your brain telling you awful things and threatening your existence, and Daniel represents this feeling perfectly.

Going even deeper, the movie opens with a shooter entering a small café and massacring multiple patrons and themself. One of the things that causes Daniel to manifest is Luke, having left his home where his parents are shouting at one another non-stop, coming face to face with the dead shooter. It is later revealed that Daniel, an ancient demonic “imaginary friend”, was inhabiting the shooter at the time, thus making him the cause of the massacre. And he chose Luke as his next host on that fateful day.

Pause now. We’ve got a blatant mental illness metaphor, and it’s the direct cause of a murder. Why am I more lenient on this and hard on things like “Midsommar”? It’s because this detail plays into what I view as a very interesting interpretation of mental conditions and their preceding trauma.

Looking past Daniel being a demon, I see this as the shooter struggling with the same or a similar type of mental condition caused by a past trauma. This person was sick, as all terrorists of this breed are. Again, this narrative is helped by the fact that we are following Luke and not someone on the outside of his problem, and therefor understand the real lack of control had by anyone Daniel (A.K.A. mental illness) has touched, and, more importantly, the helplessness they feel.

Am I saying people who enact gun violence are partially innocent and have no free will? No, that’s stupid. The real point of me bringing this up is simply that I find it interesting how the film looks at trauma as sort of a contagion. Hurt people can hurt people, and traumatized people can traumatize people. Whatever “demons” that killer hosted were passed on to Luke- and, if the film wanted to go for a broader subject and ditch the singular evil imaginary friend concept, passed onto many others, too. But, it didn’t, and I think that works best, as symptoms like Daniel typically only manifest in young children, assuming you wanna go with the DID/schizophrenia reading, which is what the film offers to us.

We see experiences and fears felt by everyone who has mental illnesses portrayed visually in “Daniel Isn’t Real��, sometimes feeling like a mixed bag of different symptoms from different mental conditions. I see myself and my own experiences in Luke, and it feels good to see the mentally ill person as the hero, and the mental illness being at least mainly a threat to the mentally ill person rather than the outside world, which is how it is more often than not.

And while the movie ends on a sad note, actually quite similar to Kevin’s end in “Glass”, what it does with its runtime is, for the most part, what I want to see more of in terms of mental illness in horror.

 Like I said at the beginning, we’re an easy target. Autistic, obsessive compulsive, anxious, depressed people like me are scary when you have no idea what you’re looking at. Yes, we can be dangerous sometimes, but to nobody more than ourselves. But much more than dangerous, we’re scary to ourselves.

I’ve lived in terror for long periods of time before due to my mental illnesses, and I’ve had this thought; “why doesn’t someone make a horror movie where the mentally ill person is the protagonist, and the mental illness is the monster?” “Daniel Isn’t Real” executed this idea almost perfectly, if not for the fact that Daniel was out to hurt other people, because what’s scarier than a person with a realistic mental condition hurting other people? Ooooo.

Living with mental illness can feel like a horror movie all on its own. The horror is in my head, and I can’t kill it, only keep it at bay, control it. And I think that is scarier than any Norman Bates, than any Kevin Crumb, than any Ruben. To live with a force in your head that wants nothing more than you for to be in misery is a horrific reality worse than any killer.

And before I close, I want to comment on one more little detail. I’m much more critical on recent movies that work with this subject matter than I am on older movies; that’s why I had so much to say about the Aster films and “Split” and so little about “Psycho”. This is because I understand how invisible the very concept of mental illness was in everyday society in “Psycho’s” time. It wasn’t just an easy target, it was a given, and nobody writing these films had any idea of what they were doing or the seedling of thought to look into it. It was that alien.

Today, we are talking about mental illness so much, and yet we are still so careless with what we use it for in our media. It is blasphemous to me that directors and writers still insist on using mentally ill people as villains and creepy characters. Mental illness is such a complex experience that deserves to be explored from the viewpoint of those of us who live with it, not as a toy for the bigshot horror director of the hour to toss around like a hot potato.

There was an excuse in the 1960s. There is no excuse now. We can do better.

[catphistopheles]

I wrote a Thing. And if there is any expressed interest in this Thing, I will continue to add little installments on Tumblr. It’s a heteronormative romantic comedy, kinda tropey, but it’s something I really wanted to type out and have fun with. I’ll continue to write it even if there isn’t any interest on Tumblr, simply because I want to write it no matter what.

So without further ado, here is the first and possibly only installment of *Insert Story Name Here When I Think of a Title*

Melli glowered down at the innocuous little slip of paper that sat on top of her desk. She tapped her paintbrush impatiently on her knee , and she was so aggravated that the tapping became more and more forceful, almost painful on her kneecap.

It was a wedding invitation. 

Worse, it was a wedding invitation from her best friend. The one she had been in love with for years before he fell for another woman. Anders Nilsson. The man with the clever mouth and scrappy temper, the man with the charm oozing out of him, the man with the cold steel blue eyes and the hero jaw and the perfect hair and the whiskey-on-the-rocks voice that kept her company during her divorce. 

They met, as gimicky as it sounded, on a random team assignment for an online game they both played. It was chance, their meeting. One in a million chance that she’d end up on the European servers to get paired with him. Her soon-to-be ex husband at the time just so happened to buy her both the game system and the game itself (as a bribery, a sort of “Sorry I cheated on you for the eighth time, please forgive me” present) the same week Anders just so happened to buy his after leaving rehab for a drug addiction he was determined to leave behind. She and Anders clicked almost instantly, formed a solid game friendship, and eventually branched out to all sorts of games, and even conversations through a messaging app on the phone, and eventually actual phone calls, and it just kept becoming more and more intense. 

She left her shitbag ex, took the game system, found an apartment in a near city with her best friend, and started freelancing as a commissioned artist to make ends meet, the whole while kindling this strong sort of attachment to Anders. Anders was always there for her. He’d call her after he left work--with the time difference, it meant she’d get a good morning phone call every day as she got out of bed. She loved it. And he knew she loved it, and so kept it up just to put a smile on her face.

Melli once mentioned she wished she could see more of Sweden with him, and the next day Anders went far out of his daily commute to surprise her with photos of all the touristy things Stockholm had to offer; old town, with its colorful squished-together houses and cobblestone roads; the many rivers and deltas and lakes around his city; the giant city square with its vastly intricate paved gathering spots. He worked in construction and showed off some of the massive skyscrapers he had a hand in building. He was proud of his work, and his city, and gladly shared these with her at the drop of a hat. 

He’d stay up past midnight telling her his most intimate thoughts and secrets. They’d had really good phone sex many times, and it was sadly and ironically the best sex she’d ever had. She told him she loved him. He rejoiced and told her he loved her.

She fell hard, body and soul, for this man.

And then he fell hard, body and soul, for another woman.

It wasn’t fair. Melli had been saving up money to go to Stockholm when he broke the news that he had found a girlfriend--in fact she was three quarters of the way to her goal. She had scrimped and saved and daydreamed and planned and painted her heart out to sell as many projects as she could (while still paying her bills) to be able to afford the trip. Anders and his girlfriend had a rocky relationship--very on again, off again--and Melli had secretly and ashamedly hoped it wouldn’t last. 

But then again, the invitation on her desk. You fool, It seemed to gloat at her the longer she stared at it, You fell so hard and now you’re bruised and alone. She huffed and swept it off the desk and onto the floor, bitter tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She blinked them away.

Melli prided herself on not being a bitter person. She managed to go all twenty five of her years on this planet without holding grudges, or acting on spite, or being unnecessarily cruel or mean spirited. But there’s only so much heartbreak a girl can take… 

She’d have to go to the wedding, of course. This was her best friend, regardless of any heartbreak, and he’d messaged her weeks ago and asked her to attend. 

“It’s really important to me, if you’re able to make it. I know it’s an expensive trip, but you’re my best friend, Mellibelle. I’d love it if you could be there on the happiest day of my life.”

He was the only person she’d let call her by her full first name. It always made her melt when he said it in that accent of his, with that whiskey voice of his, and so she’d agreed before she could so much as think up a good excuse not to attend. 

It wasn’t the money, of course. She’d become quite successful as a freelance artist--pet portraits, mostly, but every now and then a local gallery would arrange a sale of her less generic works--it was the reality of finally seeing him face to face, close enough to touch and hold and kiss, only for him to be completely off limits. It would kill her. 

She had to go.

“Fuck,” she murmured, and begrudgingly powered up her laptop to look at flights and hotels. 

Footsteps behind her signaled her childhood friend and roommate had woken up for the day. She heard Sofia stoop to pick up the invitation and pause to read it. 

“Oof,” Sofia winced, her voice rough with sleep, “Are you going?” 

Sofia, of course, knew the whole sordid history between Melli and Anders. Sofia knew everything about Melli by proximity alone: they’d been friends since elementary school. Melli swiveled in her chair to level a helpless look at her friend, who opened her arms to offer a hug, and the dam broke, and Melli was crying. Sofia stepped forward and enveloped Melli into her arms. 

“Ah, dear,” Sofia said soothingly, pityingly, as she gently patted Melli’s thick dark hair. “Listen, I know this is going to suck. But you’ve always been so good at making the most out of sucky situations! Why don’t you use a little more out of savings and make it a miniature vacation just for you?”

A tiny spark of promise flared in Melli’s chest. She wiped her eyes on Sofia’s sleep shirt and glanced up at her friend. “A woman alone in a foreign country? Isn’t that just asking for a Liam Neeson film?” 

The feeble attempt at a joke got a snort out of Sofia. 

“You’re street smart and I believe in you. Just don’t go into dark alleys, don’t talk to shifty strangers, listen to your intuition, all that good stuff. You deserve a good vacation after that wedding.” Sofia leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss onto Melli’s forehead. “Treat Yourself: Unrequited Love Edition.”

Melli wrinkled her nose, swiveling back around to open several new tabs in her browser, mind reeling with possibilities. “Ew, don’t say unrequited love. Makes me sound so woebegone. How much do you think it costs to rent a boat?” 

Sofia barked out a laugh as she made her way to the kitchen. “More than what you charge for a painting. But the wedding isn’t for another month so you have plenty of time to get cracking on a few more pet portraits.” (The click of the electric kettle, followed by a yawn.) “Maybe hit up Mrs. Marchpane again. Didn’t her seventh cat just have kittens? She’d probably love a family portrait to go with the fleet she’s already commissioned. She’s so… enthusiastic.”

“Not a bad idea! You’re on a roll this morning, and all before you’ve had your tea!” cracked Melli, typing furiously into a US Dollar-to-Swedish-Krona converter. She opened another tab and started typing an email to Mrs. Marchpane.

Dear Mrs. Marchpane, 

I heard the Glorious Miss Tater Tot just gave birth to seven beautiful little kittens. Are you interested in a family portrait to commemorate this joyous occasion? I can give you a special rate as a congratulations…. 

Melli smiled to herself, floored by the plan that was forming in her mind.

“Sofia?” 

“Yes, dear?”

“I owe you so many souvenirs.”

“Bring me back a moose and we’re even.”

“Deal!”

[alltingfinns]

A Scandal in Belgravia

So I’m back on this.

The swoosh on some sped up footage in the previously, don’t remember noticing that.

This episode’s start gets so much funnier if you read some of the fic written between this and the previous episode.

Silly song now becomes more dramatic in TRF.

What did Irene offer Jim to get him so riled up? If it’s the plot plane plan that would explain why Sherlock is needed alive. But his emotional reaction... maybe he’s already been trying to get it on his own. Indicates possibly that Jim has been looking for a way to get to Mycroft.

“You’re typing a lot.”

This montage is nicely done.

Arguing about the blog.

The pouncing on the title.

He’s so hurt. He knows ash!

“We do watch the news.”

“You said boring and switched the channel.”

First time where “people” = John.

And the hat.

“It’s time.” I never thought about the waiting period.

Ehh, Hudson called up to the next floor so John’s room? Boys?

Ha cool, a SAAB. An old one too. I’d guess a 900 model from the early nineties.

Lestrade probably makes these calls a lot.

I get Sherlock’s confusion, he’s just in a sheet it’d make sense for him to be humiliated.

Their silent conversation + John’s acceptance of the absurdity.

That was a pretty long look on Sherlock’s lap and then asking about pants.

The Swedish subtitles on Netflix just referred to John as ”kronans gosse” I love it!

John took the queen liking his blog as a point in their argument.

I always like looking at John during the sheet bit.

Mycroft and John conversing in subtext that you need to remember their original conversation from a whole series/three episodes ago. And people think johnlock is too subtextual.

They made “the woman” a work title clearly to explain why Sherlock would refer to her that way. A bit harder to work in the context from ACD canon. It would be weird if Sherlock in modern times went “a credit to your gender” for defeating him.

Sherlock’s reaction Mycroft’s veiled assertion settles the question, I think. He’s making a “damn, he’s got me there” face. Mainly because John’s presence, if we considers his previous statement. If it were just him and Mycroft he’d just say “just because I haven’t done it doesn’t mean I can’t understand it!”

Btw, in case you think my typing speed is phenomenal I am hitting pause when something gets really interesting to me.

The parallel of checking the pictures have the “obvious” reading of romantic set up. But Sherlock is still learning details of a case he has been given so another reading is that while he’s targeting her she’s targeting him.

My reading is backed up by Sherlock’s immediate demeanor. His interest in her didn’t really appear until he found out she didn’t ask for anything. Blackmailers are a dime a dozen, but someone making a point of threat against the reputation of the BRF without asking for direct compensation? That’s someone with a plan and someone who can give him the kick he feeds of from casework.

John getting the last word in only for Sherlock to get the laterer word in.

Pinching an ashtray from the aforementioned BRF, whom himself mentioned as his first client with a navy, just to make John laugh? Some things are priceless but for everything else there’s MasterCard.

Okay, I had to back up a bit but: I don’t know who’s getting these pictures for Irene, but the last one that makes her smile is focused on John. She sees Sherlock more naked in the pictures where he’s fully clothed in the back of a cab than when he was in just a sheet on the pavement.

More parallels. This is really about their similarities. Could still be considered romantic foreshadowing “they’re made of the same cloth” type.

Ah yes, punch me.

That little dialogue snippet about “punch me” usually being subtext is what got me to first watch this show.

In general I have a lot of issues with how they handled Irene. But I especially don’t think I get the nudity in this scene. It reveals to Sherlock immediately that his ruse was all in vain since she either a) knew he was coming anyway or b) usually greet priests in distress while stark naked and might therefor just be stark raving.

Unflappable John Watson. Oh dear, my flat mate who I just beat up is sitting in front of a naked dominatrix with his vicar collar between her teeth. “I’ve missed something, haven’t I?”

He doesn’t like being a third wheel either. “I had tea too! Just so you know. In case you thought Sherlock got tea at the palace by himself. I was there too. The tea was lovely. Just the right temperature.”

Dammit.

Now I want tea.

Wait wait wait! When did John put his “date” shoes on? Only time it makes sense is when Sherlock was looking through his disguises. (He definitively wouldn’t wear them to traipse around the muddy crime scene.) Maybe they’re part of his “battle uniform”? Also obviously Sherlock can only “deduce” date because he knows what shoes John wears on dates. This isn’t really clothed people are easier to deduce.

How is he not deducing the heck out of her make up and ear piercing? Is it because she’s acting so extraordinary that her indicators become harder to contextualise?

Or is that whole thing just a plot hole?

And her comes her actual opening chess move. Nudity and banter was just setting up the pieces.

“Somebody loves you.” She pressed John’s big red “DO NOT PRESS” button right away. Later she says Jim told her how to play the Holmes brothers, but he definitively gave some pointers on John as well.

There’s something about John’s facial movements when Irene says he knows exactly where to look. Hard to compare with the sheet scene because of the different angles. But yeah, John is bi.

“You do borrow my laptop” with such an angry glare.

Wait are Irene’s shoes those shoes that are expensive because they’re red on the bottom? (I do not care enough to google their names.)

And it’s when John starts to smile that Sherlock does his verbal keysmash. Officially Ben said it was because Irene was paying attention to John instead of him, but she does that a number of times previously and has had quite a moment of getting cosy at John. But up until then John has been a bit standoffish. Of course you can only take so much of a pretty lady flirting with you before your smile reflex gets activated. Also he whips his head immediately at Sherlock in medical concern for his friend and Sherlock can speak clearly again.

Sherlock thinks he knows her game now as he makes his move getting her to confirm that the pictures are in the room.

Imagine the egg on his face if John hadn’t managed the smoke alarm in time.

“Amazing how fire exposes our priorities” should be part of a collection of lines that are only said once but thematically repeated throughout the show.

Some would argue maybe “I really hope you don’t have a baby in there” could be added but I don’t think it could be considered as repeated enough thematically.

Sherlock being his usual demanding self about turning off the fire alarm. The fool! Doesn’t he know how hard fire alarms are to turn off? (Maybe just a problem for me...)

Okay sure, easy enough with a gun, but impractical as a long term solution.

Umm, excuse me why does he go “no disrespect but you were clearly born in the 80s” in an episode from 2012? The most she’d be is 32, so clearly she looks at most like that then. Why would she be insulted by that? Also he earlier called a dude unhealthy, stupid and with bad breath in front of him without clarifying level of respect. So basically he’s needling her by adding that. That’s the most positive spin it can get.

John apologising for not stopping /forewarning about a whole bunch of trained killers sweeping in? That is diehard loyalty.

She’s staring hard at him as fire exposes his priority.

She actually does give him a clue by looking down the moment he looks at her. Never thought of that.

He heard something click wrong, looked at her for additional clue so she looks to the side “get out of the way”.

I love that John’s priority is medically inclined in the action scene, checking the vital signs of the guy that got shot.

“Observant?” “Flattered?” Honestly he shouldn’t be so surprised by the first bit as it was obvious some kind of observation + deduction got Sherlock the code.

As usual Sherlock gives zero fucks about gun safety. I feel John at some point is going to tie him down and lecture him about it. “We do not scratch our heads with the barrel of a gun, and we don’t call for the police by shooting in the air!”

You know if you’re knocking him out cold regardless, you don’t need him to drop the phone first. You just wanted the beating to be literal.

“He’ll be fine. I’ve used it on loads of my friends.” Yeah no, tell the doctor what chemical knockout drug you just put in a former drug addict!!

I wonder how much of dream Adler is actual Adler speaking to a drugged out Sherlock.

Could be nothing with the only real part being “hush now, returning your coat”. Would make sense for a dreaming brain to jumble the two cases together.

Start of series 2 we get to see Sherlock’s bedroom while John’s remain a mystery after 4 series.

John is not on the top of his game this episode. “What woman?”

And so it begins.

Mycroft does not have “shut up Hudson” privilege.

That whole phone noise discussion is punctuated with embarrassment.

Ah the gaping jaw that set the sails for the lestrolly ship.

“Christmas is canceled!” I love when John banters with Sherlock.

Sherlock is mean to Molly, but to be fair she kind of blundered a bit with the others and Sherlock complaining about John being away was clearly something he told in confidence. Telling Greg and John that their loved ones are betraying the trust put in them is general misanthropy, but Sherlock probably feels justified in needling Molly about a crush that he figures none of them know anyway.

Oh John’s look there. Greg clearly knows too what is coming but John has the recognition factor.

“Oh shit. It was me. Still me? She still has a thing for me?”

For a sort of dramatic moment it still has one of John’s absolutely funniest facial journeys. “Wait, you apologised? You know what an apology is? Are you feeling well?”

Obviously Irene’s text signal gets a lot of funny moments, but nothing will beat the timing of this one. And now I am imagining Jim with a pair of binoculars sitting across the street and telling Irene “now, send it now, it’ll be fucking priceless!”

And Greg “wait really?” When you’re not sure what your consultant can do to surprise you next.

I believe I made a post about it earlier but Jeanette’s boyfriend just said he’s been keeping track up till 57 on text messages that his platonic flat mate gets where the signal is a woman moaning.

“Do you ever reply?”

Jeanette starts working on her break up speech about then, I believe.

Molly nervously gulps a drink. Now Molly is everyone’s favorite John mirror. Medical professional with a crush on Sherlock, and whose favored type of outfit involves knitwear. John usually takes a drink at emotionally difficult times. Is this Molly handling her rejection, or showing what John is doing/will do without showing John?

Mycroft. If they passed a new law why would Sherlock know about it before you?

“How did Sherlock recognize her from... not-her-face?”

Mycroft answers with a smile and leaving the room.

“I got plans”

“No” I know you. If it’s a date you’ve probably bungled it already. Regardless if it is or isn’t you’ll still prioritize my brother because you always do.

John really goes for the superconfident strategy when dating, huh? “I always thought I was great.”

“I’ll even walk your dog!”

“I don’t have a dog!”

“No, because that was the last one...”

Always thought you were a great boyfriend, huh?

When even your landlady who got out of her marriage through execution thinks you bungled it, you probably bungled it.

Think I’ll break here and continue the rest of the episode tomorrow.

[haydnfleury]

Flatline

**MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH DISCLAIMER**

Who: William Nylander, Zach Hyman

Type: Dark Fic

Word Count: 2.4K

Addendum: Title is from the song Flatline off the Hotline Miami soundtrack.

~AO3 Version

 The next morning seemed like any other winter morning in Toronto. Frost forming on the windows from the dropping temperatures, the sound of early morning traffic on the streets below, and the alarm blaring its usual tone. Except, something’s different. Wrong.

 “I love you Zachy.”

 “I love you too Willy.”

 They kissed and held each other closely under the covers, beginning to fall asleep.

 The next morning seemed like any other winter morning in Toronto. Frost forming on the windows from the dropping temperatures, the sound of early morning traffic on the streets below, and the alarm blaring its usual tone. Except, something’s different. Wrong. Zach is usually the first one to get out of bed anyway, but Willy doesn’t seem to have woken up like he always has when the alarm went off before practice- in fact he doesn’t seem to have moved at all from where he was the night prior.

 “Honey?” Zach asks trying to shake him awake.

 Nothing. A little louder and harder this time- nothing. Starting to panic, Zach bursts into the closet digging around for their travel suitcases. After having thrown half of the clothes out, he finds them, and grabs a small hand-held mirror from the toiletries bag. Holding it under Willy’s nose the glass starts to fog up. Good, he’s not dead at least.

 Zach hurriedly throws on some clothes and phones up emergency services, as well as the new coach and several teammates. EMT’s arrive within five minutes of him calling, and rush Willy out to the ambulance, constantly monitoring his dangerously low vitals on the way to the emergency room.

 By the time he was stabilized and Zach was let into the room, the entire team had arrived, bleary-eyed from sleep but still quite visibly concerned. The doctor began to explain that he suffered from a stroke sometime in the early hours of the morning, and that he was stuck in a coma. The rest started to become a blur as Zach got lost in his own thoughts, How did he get a stroke? We’re both too young for-- When is he going to wake up-- Is-- is he going to wake up? Please don’t leave me like this. I don’t--

 The thoughts are interrupted by Mitchy’s hand on his shoulder.

 “Hey, are you okay?”

 When he looks up the doctor had already left, and everyone was looking at him, all with the same question on their face.

 “I. I don’t know,” is all he can manage to say, he doesn’t really know the answer to that himself yet.

 “In light of events this morning, we’ll move practice to tomorrow,” Keefe decides and everyone nods in agreement, “Hyman, take the week off if you need it, I won’t think any less of you if you need more time off.”

 Outside in the ward, they start to hear a growing chatter, and the clattering of equipment. The Media.

 “Oh boy, already? I need to go take care of this. John? Do me a favour and call Kyle, have him restrict the media for injury protocol.”

 And with that the coach goes out and closes the door behind him, and Tavey steps into the bathroom to make his phone call. Zach pulls a chair over to the bedside and sits down, grabbing Willy’s hand. At this point he can’t hold back, lowering his head onto his hand and bed underneath it, as the tears start to break through.

 Mo makes his way over and puts his arm around Zach. Mitchy is suddenly reminded of his own boyfriend, Marty, being suddenly taken away from him when his plane crashed on his way back from the off-season, and starts tearing up. Tys pulls him into a hug and lets him cry into his shoulder. Everyone else in the crowded room just looks on solemnly.

 Zach stays at the hospital for three days. Initially Tavey steps up as captain and visits them first, bringing Zach food each day so he’d remember to actually eat. Everyone else visits in their own time.

 After the third day Zach returns to practice, something to hopefully take his mind off of what’s going on. It works well enough, returning to drills and playing on the first line for games. Focus. Focus on something else. The team. The game. Getting that puck into the net. Focus.

 It’s been three weeks since that cold morning. Zach’s thoughts are composed enough now, and they’re in the middle of a game at home. He’s in a face-off when he sees Kyle entering the player bench on the phone, they’ve been discussing different trade opportunities lately- a Marlie or two for a player from one of the other teams- so he doesn’t think much of it. When the play ends though to an off-side, he calls a timeout. Yeah, they’re losing 5-2, but they’re still in the second period, so they shouldn’t need it yet right?

 But when they all come together, there’s no whiteboards, no iPads, no talk of plays or strategies. Keefe seems to have lost his tongue, shuffling in place, so Kyle speaks up.

 “He’s gone. William. He’s gone.”

 It’s dead silent on the bench, aside from the few who had dropped what they were holding, and Zach’s world seemed to be crashing down along with them.

 “It was about four minutes ago, I had just got off the phone with the doctors. We um, we’ve decided to forfeit the game; I don’t think any of you wants to continue playing now.”

 Nobody seems to have the strength to respond. But they all stand up and make their way down the tunnel to the locker room while Kyle radios to the staff to forfeit, and block all media personnel from the Leafs’ sections of the building. When they’ve all dressed and make their way to the parking garage Zach is the first person to even say a word since Kyle told them.

 “Morgan, can you drive me home? I can’t really think straight.”

 He agrees and, and he’s not exactly wrong. At the moment everything is just noise, bright and blurry colours, and the cold air; he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between 60 km/h or 150 km/h, or a red light on an intersection with a car coming from the other direction. Not to mention the fact he couldn’t bring himself to drive in their car, knowing Willy would never be in the passenger seat again.

 When they get to Zach’s apartment, he fumbles with the keys to get the door open. But seeing their home, *his* home now, makes his stomach churn. He bolts nearly through the bathroom door and pukes his guts out in the toilet. Composing himself, he gets himself back up and washes his mouth out in the sink, as his mind becomes a tempest of emotions: anger, frustration, despair, guilt.

 As he looks in the mirror, the anger takes over and he punches the glass with his hand, cracking it, and drawing blood from his knuckles before he collapses against the wall, bending his legs towards him and crying. The sound of breaking glass had Mo rushing over to see what happened, only to see the shattered reflections, and his teammate in tears on the floor.

 “Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay,” he bends down and then notices the blood, “shit, we better fix that.”

 Having been to their place enough times, Mo knew his way around, and so he dug through the cabinet to find the first aid kit. First examining the hand, then grabbing the tweezers to pull out the remnant shards of glass. Switching to a piece of cloth and wetting it with alcohol, he cleans the wound. It draws a sharp, pained breath from Zach.

 “Sorry, I know this probably hurts like hell,” once it’s cleaned, he wraps it tightly.

 He manages to get Zach ready enough for bed and sits on the couch, figuring he should probably stay and keep an eye on him for a while. Meanwhile Zach tries to sleep, but his thoughts are racing. He’s gone. William. He’s gone. - I love you Zachy. That’s the last thing I ever heard him say… and I can’t ever hear his voice again, or see that smile of his, the deepness of his eyes, his- his- his fucking laugh that could brighten an entire room. - Why wasn’t I there… Why- why him? Why do bad things happen to good people? It- it should’ve been me, not him, never him. I- I can’t- I’ll never be able to feel his touch again, never be able to hold him- I- I-… his thoughts trail off, and he’s whisked away to sleep.

 In the morning the tears are gone. There aren’t any left. Period. In its wake is just emptiness. A void which can’t be filled. Mo had made breakfast for them by the time Zach got out of the bedroom. They eat in near silence, Mo tries several times to say something, but can’t find the right words to say. All he can think of is “I’m sorry,” which the only response he gets is Zach looking up at him before looking back at the food.

 That night, he tries drinking his problems away. Forget. Just forget. It works for a while, but it always comes flooding back in the morning. The time they visited Niagara Falls with the team, when they were on the Ferris wheel together, the first time they kissed literally during a game, moving in together when his lease on the last place ended, all their date nights, the stroke-- he stopped. What was the point if it was only temporary.

 The funeral services had been arranged by Tavey and Kyle, it was an extremely private ceremony, attended by teammates and the bereaved family. Zach was quite visibly a wreck, but no one was really much better. It had shaken up everyone, he was more important to everyone than they had even realized. Zach managed to speak in basic Swedish that he learned from Willy to his family. David [Pastrnak] also showed up to mourn, on the verge of quitting his career in hockey- he just lost one of his oldest friends.

 Within the week, a joint statement was released by Kyle and Keefe about the death, to a shocked nation. Everywhere, from Los Angeles to Halifax, or Vancouver to Miami, almost every major city in Canada was pouring in support and remembrance. Everywhere Zach went, he would see some calibre of remembrance on a poster, billboard, or bus- a constant reminder, He’s gone.

 Cigarettes was the next thing he tried, but to no avail. He had felt the exact same as before after one, and so he threw the rest back into a drawer to be forgotten.

 The team had taken nearly a month away from playing, but had gotten back to it. But it wasn’t the same. You lose a player they’re usually either traded or retired. Their place in the lineup or their stall in the locker room would be changed out, but they’d still be around, just not under the same colours. Not this time. No team would ever have him again. The players just keep moving forward, it’s all they can do, but the thought always lingers in the back of their minds.

 Mo didn’t intend to, but he effectively moved in with Zach until he thought it was fine for him to be alone, besides Gards would keep their place up until then. It never really improved though. Zach would just go through the motions. Get up, eat, practice, sleep. Get up, eat, play, sleep. Repeat. He could definitely still score, and help the team, but the celebrations never had the same feeling. There was always someone missing that would never come back, and be on the ice, be on the lineup. Life had started to lose it’s luster, and nothing changed that. Get up, eat, practice, sleep. Get up, eat, play, sleep. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

 Time didn’t seem to have a meaning anymore either. It could be seconds, days, weeks, or months, Zach couldn’t tell the difference. It was always the same cold, dark world that it was yesterday. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. He’s gone. He’s fucking gone.

 Was there any emotion left? No one knew. Everyone was consoling each other, but Mo, he didn’t know how to help. He’d never lost someone that close to him, Gards was there and waiting for him to come home. He did what he could, but even before starting to talk to a therapist he could see Zach was a husk of what he used to be. Everything was cold. Cold and dark, all of it a blur.

 Mo was already asleep on the couch, and Zach in bed when the city’s power grid failed and plunged the Greater Toronto Area into darkness. Zach walked out of the bedroom and through to the veranda, and sat on the railing. He looked up. Stars. It felt like eons since he last saw them. There’s something. A memory. Faint, but still there. Willy. When they both joined the Leafs in 2016, Zach was lost. It was a new place, new people, new everything. Willy was one of the first people he met. Willy had been to and from Toronto so many times as a kid with his father, he knew the area well. One of the first things they did together was drive out to a spot Willy would always go to. Since he was a kid, there was always this one place outside the city he would go to. It was a secluded little clearing where at night you could see the stars above. They had become friends quickly after that. It felt like centuries ago now though.

 Zach can’t feel anything anymore. He could be falling, but he doesn’t know. He swears he could hear someone calling his name, but it seems so far away and distorted. He doesn’t bother opening his eyes to check, everything is cold and dark, and the world around him is the same, there’s no point to. I love you Zachy. I love you too Willy. He feels like he hears that being said again, but it’s coming from everywhere, and nowhere. Then, nothing. Oddly, it becomes warm, warmth he hasn’t felt in who knows how long it’s been now. He feels something touch him. It’s familiar, yet completely foreign.

 “Zach.”

 Willy. Zach actually has the willpower to open his eyes now. Willy is pulling him up. He feels oddly weightless, and disorientated. He’s on the sidewalk. He tries to look behind to where he was but Willy holds his head with his hand and stops him.

 “Don’t.”

 He stops. By now he notices they’re both hovering off the ground.

 “Are we dead?”

 “Afraid so.”

 Willy moves over to the side of Zach and holds his hand as they both float away.

 “Where are we going?”

 “I don’t know, but I waited for you. Wherever it is, we’ll find out together.”

 “I love you honey.”

 “I love you too, forever and always.”

[blankasolun]

source: Loudersound May 31, 2016

How Mayhem’s De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas changed metal

By Dayal Patterson (Metal Hammer) May 31, 2016

Mayhem are one of the most influential black metal bands on the planet, and their album De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas remains a timeless classic

  It is an album whose significance, both inside and outside of black metal, has been acknowledged by a wealth of leading contemporary metal acts, from Watain to Enslaved to Inquisition, and one that led Nergal of Behemoth to proclaim it “the opus magnum of extreme metal”. Two decades after it was recorded, it continues to top ‘best album’ lists by longtime fans of the genre, while at the same time providing primary inspiration for new bands whose members were not even born when it was recorded. There are many who would say it is the single most important album in black metal’s broad and ever-growing catalogue, and very few who would argue that it is not, at the very least, a strong contender for that accolade.

The record in question is none other than Mayhem’s De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas, a milestone work that the long-serving Norwegians are set to perform in full around Europe this year, including Finland, Norway and France. And well they might, for this is an album that has lost neither its devoted following, nor any of its potency, in the years that have passed.

There are plenty of even more hyperbolic (yet equally true) statements that could be made in support of this unique collection of songs. Yet the biggest testament to its artistic value is perhaps the fact that discussion of its recording, songwriting and performance qualities continues to outweigh the highly notable circumstances of its creation. Indeed, it is testament to Mayhem’s significance as a musical force that any music was able to overcome all the drama involved with the band during the period in question. For – as most reading this will probably know – this is also a record that captures the vision of a musician who was not only cut down in his prime, but cut down by a bandmate appearing alongside him on this very recording.

The former party is of course Mayhem guitarist and co-founder Øystein ‘Euronymous’ Aarseth, who was stabbed to death in his apartment in August 1993 by the latter, Varg Vikernes, best known for his similarly-influential project Burzum but also the bassist for Mayhem during the era of De Mysteriis’ creation. The ultimately fatal conflict between the two men is a long and complicated episode in black metal’s grim history that has been discussed at length by fans and media alike for two decades.

What is still worth noting today though, is that the album’s roots are intrinsically linked to two now-departed members of the band. The second is the Swedish-born vocalist Per Yngve Ohlin – otherwise known as ‘Dead’ – and in fact it was he who actually came up with the title; Latin for ‘Of Lord Satan’s Mysteries / Secret Rites’, and a title taken, he explained, from an occult book he had discovered. The fact that Dead took his own life in 1991, while the album was released in 1994, gives some idea of how long the band’s debut studio album was in gestation.

Certainly it was long enough that the band’s first full-length, the legendary live album Live In Leipzig, (recorded in November 1990 but released almost three years later) captured the band (the line-up then comprised of Dead, Euronymous, bassist Necrobutcher and drummer Hellhammer) performing no less than half of its eight numbers. The oppressive, melancholic and suffocating aura found on that recording would thankfully remain in place following the transition of these aforementioned songs to the studio. While the obvious standout track Freezing Moon ia a grim monochromatic epic that remains a fan favourite even today – the unholy and, well, freezing feeling within that song is just as present on Funeral Fog, Pagan Fears, Buried By Time And Dust.

Complementing these older compositions and undoubtedly giving the album a more three-dimensional character was the incorporation of four newer, somewhat more angular and twisting songs, namely the title track, Cursed In Eternity, Buried By Time And Dust and From The Dark Past. Euronymous’ playing had become somewhat more calculated and considered by this point, his writing influenced significantly by the introverted but talented guitarist Snorre Ruch, whose unique approach to riffing within his band Thorns had proven ridiculously influential within the Norwegian scene. In fact, Snorre (now going under the name ‘Blackthorne’) would be inducted into the group as a second guitarist prior to the album’s recording. Despite not appearing on the finished record, he would contribute entire Thorns riffs to several songs, his presence being felt not only during these moments but more generally through his impact on much of Euronymous’ creeping guitar work.

His other role would be to rearrange Dead’s lyrics on several songs in preparation for the deceased vocalist’s replacement, Attila Csihar. A Hungarian musician who was admired in Norway thanks to his short-lived but seminal black metal band Tormentor, his appointment and spirited performance remains a defining factor of the record, and it was one that provoked no small controversy at the time. In contrast to the more typical black metal vocal styles of the time he introduced an eccentric, otherworldly and theatrical approach incorporating a drawling delivery and lurching from screams and rasps to an almost operatic form of singing that makes a feature of his distinctive Hungarian accent.

“The way of singing it, we were talking about how to do it of course,” recalled Attila in an interview conducted back in 2009. “I heard some demo recordings that had been done by Dead and [previous vocalist] Maniac before, but I like individualism… so when I talked to Euronymous in the studio I said, ‘Why don’t we try something else instead of making again the traditional screamed vocals?’ The De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas song, when I looked at the lyrics there was this Latin line so I thought, ‘Let’s do this voice there.’ I came out with the low vocals with more melodies, and he liked it so much we did the whole recording that way.”

Though seemingly a long-running plan on the part of Euronymous, the decision to use Attila for the role proved as much of a surprise for other musicians in the Norwegian scene as it was for the Mayhem fanbase. After all, not only was Euronymous surrounded by an abundance of local talent, but many of the vocalists in the country actually knew the songs on the forthcoming album already, having listened repeatedly to an instrumental tape that had been making the rounds for some time.

“People were a little bit pissed that they didn’t receive the phone call,” recalled Grutle of Enslaved during the same interview, “but they thought, ‘Well that’s going to be interesting’ – and it was! Actually while [Attila was] doing the vocals Øystein went to the callbox and called me and said, ‘He sings like a sick priest, he sings in Latin, with an accent, it’s incredible!’”

Of course, one cannot mention De Mysteriis without mention of the pounding and detailed percussion that underpins it. A fine performance by one of black metal’s best known drummers, Hellhammer (a man who has performed for innumerable bands from Arcturus and Covenant to Dimmu Borgir and Shining), the formidable yet restrained drumwork is complimented by both the spacious, eerie and strangely minimal bass work and a powerful and gloriously unpolished production. The latter is no small factor in the album’s success and was apparently the result of a considerable amount of work on the part of both Euronymous and the infamous Pytten, a producer who spent much of the 1990s capturing iconic works by legends such as Enslaved, Burzum, Hades, Gorgoroth and Immortal.

“Euronymous had specific ideas about each instrument and he had specific ideas about echoes,” recalled Attila. “The drums were recorded in a huge concert hall, solos were recorded in a room and he was moving round all the time and saying, ‘Okay, there we have it.’ If you listen to records from the time and then De Mysteriis you hear the production is far and away better than anything else.”

“The whole album was recorded in very spacious areas,” confirmed producer Pytten. “Øystein, Hellhammer and me were walking about, talking about how to do it and I really wanted to use the stage for the drums. I really like big sounds — especially for the drums — and reverb on the leads. So the drums were done on stage and [in that hall] you have nine stories going up, so we closed the room side, but kept all the height.”

It isn’t only the drums that utilise large numbers of tracks, another defining ingredient in the album is the mass of multi-tracked guitars, which create a huge (yet suitably icy and treble-heavy) wall of sound, a perfect compliment to the similarly sizeable percussive bombardment. Indeed, the combination only accentuates the crushing and malevolent character of the whole record, the overall effect being a dense and impenetrable assault on the senses, one only balanced by the surprising touches of groove throughout the album.

And this is perhaps the last thing to underline, particularly for newcomers to the record. Though undeniably a standout opus, it is not an easily accessible work – even by black metal standards – and is not necessarily a gateway album. Nor is it meant to be. It is a purposely gloomy and aggressive beast, and one that makes no concessions to outsiders, instead following its own wilful and destructive path without any apology. Give it the time it deserves however, and it will be with you forever. We can only hope that its forthcoming live invocations are equally memorable.

The interviews in this piece were originally conducted for the book Black Metal: Evolution Of The Cult and appear in an extended form there. The book and its sequels are available at now.

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How Mayhem’s De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas Changed Metal source: Loudersound May 31, 2016 How Mayhem's De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas changed metal By Dayal Patterson…

[letterboxd]

Sommar Loving: The Ari Aster Q&A.

“The best filmmaking is mischief-making.” —Midsommar director Ari Aster confesses to being a nervous wreck while answering Letterboxd members’ questions about pagan rituals, grotesque imagery and psychedelic drugs.

It’s crazy to think that only two years ago, Ari Aster was just another New York filmmaker with a few shorts under his belt. But by this time last year, his debut feature, the Toni Collette-starring Hereditary, had taken out the title of most popular film on Letterboxd for the month of June, and ended the year as our Highest Rated Horror for 2018.

Not that he had a moment to enjoy it. Last August, while Hereditary was still in cinemas, Aster was already in Hungary (standing in for Sweden) filming his new horror, Midsommar, with Florence Pugh in the lead role. It was an assignment from a Swedish production company that he almost refused, until he saw it as an opportunity to process the break-up he was going through at the time.

In an insanely tight turnaround, Midsommar is out less than a year since it was shot, and feedback for the film on Letterboxd is largely positive. Midsommar “manages to be the perfect rom-com and the most mesmerizing horror film of the year,” according to Owen, and the film proves to SilentDawn that “Aster is a capable craftsman and an auteur with many dastardly thoughts on his mind”. Laura declares: “Nobody makes me feel as icky, awful, and downright dreadful as Ari Aster, and for that, I’m very, very grateful.”

It’s safe to say that Aster is a Letterboxd MVP, so we thought it only fair to invite you to submit your questions for our interview with him. Ever the optimists, you pitched us well over a hundred, so Jack Moulton got the tough job: whittling, coalescing and combining your thoughts, tucking them in among a few of our own, and putting them to a guy who has “more fun talking about other movies than talking about my own”.

One thing we didn’t ask? The most popular question of all: “Ari, are you okay?” The better question, after watching his films, is: are we okay?

Isabelle Grill (center) and some Swedish friends. / Photo: Csaba Aknay

You wrote both Hereditary and Midsommar while you were in a personal crisis, and you consider that writing was your remedy. Do you think you can make great art—to explore the depths of existential questions—when you’re more comfortable and content? Or is suffering the root of your success? Ari Aster: I’m sure I can. I’ve written a lot of films when I’ve been more comfortable and content. The two short films that I made first were written in that place. I’m a filmmaker who likes conflict, which is not unique to me of course, but I do have a dark side and I go there in my writing.

I’m also someone who believes the best filmmaking is mischief-making and I’m always trying to come from a place of mischief as a writer. But, whether I’m going through a crisis or writing in a more or less relaxed state, I’m also a very neurotic guy. Even when there’s relative peace in my life, I’m kind of a nervous wreck.

That’s relatable. Grief is a catalyst for both films, and both Toni Collette and Florence Pugh’s big scenes of anguish are really the most horrifying parts of the films, because they’re so raw. AlecDouglas asks: what is your approach to directing actors’ performances? More specifically, can you talk about how you prepared each actress for these gut-wrenching moments. A lot of that was laid out in the script as clearly as I could. Beyond the script, it was just a matter of talking through the material with them and explaining what I felt was needed. Luckily both actresses are extraordinary artists who knew exactly what was necessary and were fully committed. They gave themselves to the material in a very generous way and were prepared to dive in headlong.

Florence Pugh (center) has a good cry in another memorable scene from ‘Midsommar’.

Chris Flores, Timur Dzhambinov and Kahlen all asked about your obsession with mutilated heads and/or skull trauma. I grew up loving horror films and subjected myself to a lot of grotesque imagery. I’ve always had a feeling for the macabre. There are a lot of images that traumatized me and I’m sure that they lingered in my mind in a way that conditioned me to pursue images like that and come up with them myself. In all of my stories, the imagery comes after the ideas and characters, so it tends to fall in line with the story. In some cases it does come first, but it’s very hard to trace any of that to any origin.

Several people, including Mark and MrJoshua, would like to know how many of the pagan rituals and artwork in Midsommar are legitimate, and how many were invented by you. Most of the rituals are references in one way or another to actual traditions and laid out in pre-existing folklore, but I did take a lot of liberties from there. So there are certain things in the film that are pure invention and there’s certain things that are absolutely pulled from reality. The pubic hair in the food and the menstrual blood in the drink, for instance, is tied to my actual research.

Gunnel Fred. / Photo: Gabor Kotschy

Scott Stamper, Sam Sellers-King and Ash were interested in your obsession with cults, or, as Deryn asks: “Ari Aster what the fuc— okay, what is it with you and pagan cult-themed horror movies?” I don’t know if I have an obsession. It just so happens that the first two movies that I got made featured cults. They’re also both films that are very much about family and are asking questions about the families you’re born into, surrogate families, and the families you find. So for both films it made sense. A cult is a very useful metaphor when you’re digging into material.

Another common question: how much “research”—personal or professional—did you do into psychedelic drugs? When it comes to the psychedelic stuff, I didn’t really do research. I had taken psychedelics about ten years ago and I had some very bad trips when I was in college.

That counts as research. Inadvertently, yeah.

Laura Valentina asks: which films inspired the look and feel of Midsommar? Can we ask you to also talk about cinematography influences? For the tripping scenes, we weren’t looking at any influences. We didn’t want to do the 1960s and 1970s psychedelia that you might see in Easy Rider, Midnight Cowboy, or the films by Kenneth Anger. I love all those films and really enjoy them, but they’re dated due to that. If anything we just knew what we wanted to avoid.

For the cinematography in general, we were pursuing a three-strip Technicolor look. We were talking a lot about the color films of Powell and Pressburger and looking at older movies when we were color-correcting the film. When I was finishing Hereditary, I was working on a shot-list [for Midsommar], but it was a more accelerated process because of our extremely punishing and tight prep schedule. On Hereditary we did a lot of screenings for the crew of given movies that I thought would get people in the right mood, but we weren’t able to do that on this film.

You’ve mentioned this was a gruelling shoot on a tight timeframe, but Mariela and NineTailedFox would like to know what the most satisfying part of the production of Midsommar was for you? It’s always satisfying when you have a good scene in the can and when you’re able to achieve certain things. Everyday there’s satisfying moments but it’s also loaded with little disappointments. You’re just always praying for something that will help move the shoot along and keep people’s spirits high. There were a lot of scenes that we were happy with so that’s always something to be grateful about.

Jack Reynor, Ari Aster and Florence Pugh. / Photo: Merie Weismiller Wallace

Many in the Letterboxd community are raving about Midsommar’s stellar cast. Half the character work is achieved in those selections. Can you talk about where you first saw your actors and how you knew they were right for the roles? For a lot of the parts we had people tape and send in auditions, so it’s really a matter of instinct and feeling these people fit. In the case of Florence Pugh, Jack Reynor and Will Poulter, they were people who were at the top of our lists early on who we persisted on that they were right. It was a real joy to work with all of them. William Jackson Harper, too.

Florence Pugh can really do anything. She’s an incredible actress who’s wonderfully endowed with amazing talent. Will Poulter is a total professional and a brilliant actor. Vilhelm Blomgren was somebody we pulled on pretty late in the process and it was very exciting to find him and know we had our Pelle.

Bran asks: how different did Hereditary and Midsommar end up being from your initial ideas for them? They changed in the sense that what we ended up shooting were a lot longer than we could keep them, so the movies were cut down a lot. I feel both films are pretty close to what I was imagining. Midsommar was more ambitious and so there were more compromises, which is just what happens. You’re chasing this thing and you get as close as you can to your vision.

So then, given that Midsommar was significantly cut down, we’ll jump to Joshua Booker’s question: what was the hardest stuff to cut? There’s more rituals and we get to meet more people in the community to get a more nuanced view of them. There are more scenes between Dani and Christian so that their journey to that ending is a little bit more circuitous. There’s more of the thesis competition between Christian and Josh too, that originally had more body to it.

Right out of the gate your vision as a filmmaker feels fully formed. You’ve said that you intend to explore different genres. Do you want to continue working with cinematographer Pawel Pogorzelski, and do you plan on exploring different styles? I’m always interested in developing different styles but the style needs to fit the film. I’ve been working with Pawel for a long time—he’s one of my best friends and we understand how the other person works. We have a very satisfying shorthand and our own processes, which is great. I definitely plan on keeping on going with him.

Ari Aster with cinematographer Pawel Pogorzelski. / Photo: Gabor Kotschy

Everybody wants to know whether you’ve ever written a script, or a scene, or a short, and then thought “I’ve gone too far”? I admit have a problem with brevity. That’s maybe where I wonder if I’ve been a bit too indulgent, but not if I’ve gone too far with the taboos.

MaxT26 asks: do you think it’s important for modern horror films to push the boundaries in terms of being disturbing and creative? Related: Tobias Soar wonders what recent horror movies you’ve admired. There’s a tradition in horror of confronting taboos and twisting the knife, so to speak. The Wailing is a film I absolutely loved and already has a place among my favorite horror movies. I would describe that as a masterpiece.

I’m excited by South Korean filmmakers in general, by the way they approach storytelling and juggling of tones. Their films defy categorization while also tempting it. Later this year, we’re all going to get The Lighthouse. I wouldn’t necessarily categorize that as a horror film but I’m excited for people to see it. I’m a big fan of Robert Eggers. I saw an early cut of it and it’s great.

The final question/answer contain spoilers for both films. Read on at your peril.

You’ve mentioned building the script for Hereditary around the image of both Charlie and Annie’s deaths and the way they mirror each other. What image was your starting point for Midsommar? Some of the final images were certainly the things that came to me first. In particular, it was the image of the wide-shot with Dani and the house burning behind her. The prologue of the film came to me pretty early on too.

‘Midsommar’ is in US and UK theaters now, and coming to other festivals and markets soon. All photographs courtesy of A24. Our thanks to Ari for his time and to everyone who asked a question. Still not sated? Enjoy this Letterboxd list of Ari Aster’s favorite contemporary directors.

[ewh111]

Annual List of Favorite Film Experiences of 2019

Happy New Year! All the best to you for a fabulous 2020 and new decade! 

2019 was a busy year of traveling. Work took me back to China (three times), Japan, Korea, and first time visits to the Czech Republic and Australia. 

I had the opportunity of a lifetime when I helped lead a group of Harvard-Westlake faculty members on a culture and food themed trip to China with James Beard Award-winning food writer/chef Fuchsia Dunlop. As a big fan of hers, I invited her to join us as our culinary tour guide and she accepted, leading us through three regions of China with distinct cuisines (Chengdu, Hangzhou, and Shanghai). Over ten days, she curated 19 meals with over 300 different courses! For more, go to my first annual food post: https://ewh111.tumblr.com/post/189972112494/2019-food-lists

And now, here are my favorite film experiences of the past year. 

Cheers, Ed

The Best and The Favorite of the Year

Parasite

The less you know before viewing this metaphorical, fiercely dark, genre-bending comedy/horror/social satire of haves and have nots where everyone is arguably a parasite, the better. Korean filmmaker Boon Joon-ho creates a memorable, twisty, thought-provoking film experience with exquisite storytelling, stunning visuals, sudden tonal shifts, unexpected turns, and a terrific cast. Just take the journey and enjoy this masterful work that may be the best film of the year. Trailer: https://youtu.be/isOGD_7hNIY

Jojo Rabbit

Appealing to my affinity for the quirky, this one is my favorite film of 2019. Who knew that a story during the waning days of WWII about a 10 year old Hitler Youth, his imaginary friend Adolph Hitler, and his single mom who is hiding a Jewish girl in their attic would be so sweet and funny. While an absurdist witty satire on the surface, it’s really an anti-hate, coming-of-age story as we experience the world through the eyes of 10 year old Jojo as he confronts and reconciles “the other” he’s been taught to hate in the world around him. Delicately balancing whimsy and seriousness, Jojo Rabbit is a beautiful and soulful film thanks to a great cast, including a terrifically endearing Scarlett Johansson (while likely to garner more attention for Marriage Story, this is the more memorable character to me), the audacious Jewish-Polynesian director Taika Waititi as the sophomoric Hitler bestie, Sam Rockwell as an SS officer with a heart, and a wonderful Roman Griffin Davis in the title role. Trailer: https://youtu.be/tL4McUzXfFI

Racing Against Time

1917

Wow. Daring and bold filmmaking in one of the most realistic and visceral war film experiences since the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan. In a role that may be overlooked during awards season, George MacKay is a standout as one of the two soldiers sent on an impossible mission through No Man’s Land to deliver a message to prevent British forces from entering a massive German ambush. Oh, and via pure movie magic, director Sam Mendes and master cinematographer Roger Deakins tell this story in what seems like one continuous shot. I was totally drawn in by the Gallipoli-esque race against time, the real-time pacing of 24, and the immersive POV of a video game. The result is breath-taking as the camera dances around the soldiers, trenches, bunkers, and towns in a beautifully choreographed dance without distracting from the gripping storytelling. Trailer: https://youtu.be/gZjQROMAh_s

Ford v Ferrari 

An exhilarating, high octane, crackling thrill ride. The story of two obsessively passionate crazies, ex-racer and car designer Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon) and British race car driver Ken Miles (Christian Bale), who join forces with American corporate titan Ford to defeat Ferrari at the 24 hours of Le Mans in 1966. It’s pure adrenaline that non-racing enthusiasts can enjoy because of the well-crafted story and performances. Trailer: https://youtu.be/I3h9Z89U9ZA

Unforgettably Creepy and Disturbing

Joker

Joaquin Phoenix disturbingly and completely transforms himself into the pathologically deranged, downtrodden, and delusional part-time clown/aspiring comic Arthur Fleck in this origin story of Batman’s arch nemesis. Joker is a deeply disturbing character study of how an emotionally fragile individual on the fringes of society gets pushed deeper and deeper into the downward spiral of insanity to the breaking point.  Dark, edgy, and unsettling, Joker is not for everyone. But there’s no denying Phoenix’s brilliant, tour de force performance. (Unfortunately, my edginess was heightened in my screening by an audience member who was similarly laughing inappropriately like Phoenix’s character, which had me looking for the closest exit in the event of a disturbance). Trailer: https://youtu.be/zAGVQLHvwOY

Us

In his sophomore directorial effort, Jordan Peele has gone beyond the horror and social commentary of Get Out, and into even deeper, more chilling existential territory. In Us, Peele has created an All-American family terrorized by a creepy scissor-wielding doppelgänger family and spirals into more terrifying and mysterious terrain with a fabulous dual performance by Lupita Nyong'o. Who is Us? Is Us them? I’ll leave the metaphorical debate for later. Trailer: https://youtu.be/hNCmb-4oXJA

**Midsommar deserves notable mention in the creepy category–a slow-burn, dark tale of a young American couple’s vacation in the remote Swedish hinterland at a once-in-lifetime summer festival that goes creepily and morbidly wrong. Trailer: https://youtu.be/1Vnghdsjmd0

Masterworks by Tarantino and Scorsese

Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood

Perhaps Quentin Tarantino’s most mature film, Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood beautifully captures in painstaking detail a specific moment in time: Hollywood, 1969. A passionate homage and love letter to Los Angeles and the Hollywood scene, Tarantino blends a concoction of history and fantasy (a la Inglourious Basterds) in a buddy movie with Leonardo DiCaprio as declining TV hero/star and an endearing scene-stealing Brad Pitt as his stalwart stunt double/best friend whose lives fatefully intersect with Sharon Tate and the Manson family. While at times meandering (it’s less plot and more a series of vignettes), it is also at times spellbinding (an on set encounter between DiCaprio’s character and a fellow 8 year old child actor; Margot Robbie’s Sharon Tate watching herself on screen inside Westwood’s Bruin Theater). As the title implies, this is a quintessential Tarantino fairy tale: funny, yet warm, and, of course, violent. Trailer: https://youtu.be/ELeMaP8EPAA

The Irishman

An epic, career-capping entry into Martin Scorsese’s mob-themed oeuve, The Irishman appropriately brings De Niro, Pacino and Pesci together in this elegaic saga, complete with de-aging technology to tell the story of mob hitman Frank Sheeran (De Niro) through multiple flashbacks. And for those of us old enough to remember, the story helps to answer the unsolved question, what happened to Teamster head Jimmy Hoffa. Trailer: https://youtu.be/RS3aHkkfuEI

Family Dramas

Marriage Story

Scarlett Johansson and Adam Driver are top-notch in this raw, yet poignant, and ultimately life-affirming journey through the disintegration of a marriage and the logistical mechanics of the divorce process and custody fight seen from both sides as each struggles to reestablish priorities in their lives and redefine family. Trailer: https://youtu.be/BHi-a1n8t7M

The Farewell

We are told the film is “based on an actual lie” in the film’s opening titles; director Lulu Wang’s heartfelt, deeply personal, and charming film stars Awkwafina as a young woman whose grandmother (in China) has been diagnosed with terminal cancer but the entire family has decided to keep it a secret. Under the guise of a hastily planned family wedding, the family gathers to say goodbye to grandma. Capturing the uneasy tension between Chinese and American culture, questioning where one belongs and the role of family in our lives, Awkwafina shines in her first dramatic role, as does the rest of the supporting cast.  Trailer: https://youtu.be/RofpAjqwMa8

Little Women

Director Greta Gerwig follows up Lady Bird with another achievement, giving the classic 19th century Louisa May Alcott period piece a thoroughly modern feel with an effervescent cast and 21st century non-chronological storytelling. Saoirse Ronan leads a fantastic cast. Trailer: https://youtu.be/AST2-4db4ic

Two Funny Smart Girls, Two Religious Guys, and Only One Baby Per Family, Please

Booksmart

More than just a female version of Superbad, Booksmart is an impressive directorial debut for Olivia Wilde with the fantastic duo of Kaitlyn Dever and Beanie Feldstein (HW ‘11) as the “study hard” academic besties on a mission to “play hard” on the last night before graduation. Also memorable is the scene-stealing Billie Lourd (HW ‘10). This very funny and delightful coming-of-age pic stands out in the pantheon of teenage comedies not only for its quirky and smart tone, but for its inclusive and diverse three-dimensional characters, including LGBTQ+ and gender non-conforming teens whose sexuality don’t define who they are. Trailer: https://youtu.be/Uhd3lo_IWJc

The Two Popes

I didn’t expect a film that is essentially an extended conversation between two people would be so intriguing and gripping. The imagined conversation in 2012 involves two very different men, one the sitting pope who finds himself standing increasingly in the way of progress, and the other, his eventual successor looking to retire from an institution he is increasingly frustrated with. But with spot-on casting and terrific performances from Jonathan Pryce as the ABBA-humming future Pope Francis and Anthony Hopkins as the stoic, humorless intellect Pope Benedict XVI, The Two Popes is a joy to watch. Trailer: https://youtu.be/T5OhkFY1PQE

One Child Nation

This one’s a doc. From 1979 to 2015, China instituted the “One Child Policy” as a means of population control to stave off mass starvation. Documentarian Nanfu Wang, herself an exception to the policy and now a first-time mother, explores the enduring ripple effects of the policy that included forced abortions, sterilizations, abandonment of baby girls, and child trafficking. This powerful and devastating documentary looks at the multi-layered trauma–how it was carried out and the heartbreaking human and societal toll it has taken. Trailer: https://youtu.be/gMcJVoLwyD0

**Other documentaries to check out: Cold Case Hammarskjold, Where’s My Roy Cohn, The Biggest Little Farm, Leaving Neverland.

All Out Pure Fun Movie Experiences

Knives Out

An enthusiastic bundle of joy, Knives Out is Rian Johnson’s stellar, intricately crafted, Agatha Christie-like whodunit with a stellar cast who seem to be having as much fun as the audience. Trailer: https://youtu.be/qOg3AoRc4nI

Rocketman

Can’t help but compare this to Bohemian Rhapsody, but Rocketman is the superior and more entertaining musical biopic (using the term loosely). It’s bold, magical, and fantastical, as befits Elton John. Trailer: https://youtu.be/S3vO8E2e6G0

Other notables: The King, Avengers: Endgame, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, Honey Boy, Yesterday, Velvet Buzzsaw.

In the queue: Pain & Glory; Uncut Gems; Bombshell; Richard Jewell, The Last Black Man In San Francisco.

Favorite Binge-worthy TV Shows

Dark, Succession, When They See Us, Chernobyl, Mindhunter, Barry, Veep, Sex Education, Silicon Valley, Stranger Things 3, Don’t F**k with Cats

Special Shout Out to Dark

With elements of the mysterious strangeness of Twin Peaks and Stranger Things (minus the humor and camp) and the intricate intertwined storytelling and compelling characters of The Wire, Dark is the story of four families who live in a tiny German town situated next to a nuclear power plant (add a little of Chernobyl) who are inextricably connected through some strange cosmic phenomenon. Oh, and throw in a big dose of time travel. Dark is incredibly compelling and addictive. It is hands down the most complex and thoughtful (i.e., sophisticated and makes sense) time travel-themed story I’ve seen. Do yourself a favor and resist Googling anything about the show to avoid spoiling the experience. Just watch. There are two seasons worth at Netflix. And one more on the way. Trailer: https://youtu.be/S3vO8E2e6G0

[lavenderthebook-blog]

Chapter 1: Just me and old ghosts.

On the 3rd on June, my feet landed in the wilds of Ireland. 

I shall not share with you exactly where, because I don’t wish for people to go there seeking what I found. Just know that, on that day, the clouds gave way to light, and it was bright. I looked about at where I’d come to summer this year. The old, worn cobbled courtyard paved the way between 3 structures. First was the small 20-meter-long cottage that I’d been told to not enter. It’s door crumbled to the whims of the wind, and as I tried to gaze in through the window, which was held in place by cobwebs, I only saw old furniture, baskets of nick knacks, and the occasional thing that glimmered in the light, but which I could not make out from outside. My hand touched the wall of the cottage as I attempted to perch myself upward for a better look, the warmth of the day was sucked away from me, and I was left cold. And that was the end of that. I did not fancy being murdered in a haunted cottage. Whilst that would make a great little book, be thankful it’s not this one. I certainly am. Second, the garage. One quick peek around the corner showed me that it was not simply used as a resting place for unfinished projects and lost things. It was full of every conceivable item a farmer might use, from any conceivable time. I will defend to my deathbed that I saw the world very first scythe mounted on a mantle in the back. No lights existed in this place bar that which crept in through cracks and nooks from outside. Not haunted, so, comparatively, better than the cottage. Thirdly, lastly, and grandest, was the main house. It was as beautiful brute, with no finesse or grace to it. It had been built to weather the coldest of winters, and it did so proudly. It’s hanging baskets of flowers, small rusted windows, mouldy dark guttering, and faded cream paint was nothing special, but a welcome dose of rural life. No thatched roof. A shame, as I always wanted to see what they were like. Instead, just plain black tiles. I reached under the mat and found the key, unlocked the lock, and stepped in.

 Who doesn’t like seeing an agga when they walk into a home? It’s the heart of a house, and whilst time may have forgotten them, my heart never will. Fond memories of my youth came back to me. Flipping the toast whist it was in its weird rigid net. The shovelling of sausages into one of its many doors only to then shovel them into myself. The time-honoured tradition of resting sock covered feet on it when winter came to try fend off frostbite. It made me think of my Mum and my Dad. They won’t be mentioned again in this book, but if they read this, know that whenever I see an agga, I think of you both. The agga, acting as a sort of all-in-one cooking device dubbed this room the kitchen. The plain wooden cupboards adorning the bare brick walls, large steel sink, and varnished wooden island that doubled as both food prepping area and food consumption area confirmed this further. I dropped my bags on the wooden floor and headed further into the heart of the beast.

The only way onwards from the kitchen was the deep darkness of the hallway. With only one painted glass window as a light source, as well as any that happened to spill out of the kitchen, the hallway was likely as bright at midday as it was at midnight. Luckily, the small radiator, white stairs, and the cheerful nature of the painted glass did give it a more friendly feel rather than fiendish. The white stairs lay to my left, whilst further on to my right was a closed door.

The door led to a small, but cosy room, painted a now faded zinc, hosted a tv wearing its AV cable input as if a row of medals in the far-right corner, and a surprisingly new and likely Swedish bookshelf on the left, which was newer than any of the books and things that lay on its shelves. Betwixt them lay the large, ornate fireplace, its steel cold to the touch, but clearly having been used a lot as it had been blackened by soot. I’d imagine it grew a shade darker each year, as it would be necessary come winter. The sofa across from all of these was comfy. It filled the room with dust when I let myself fall into it, but its faded emerald colour and the sheer depth it let me fall into told me I’d be spending many a morning sat in it, happily munching at toast whilst guessing at the tv’s static charades in an effort to watch something.

Now up the stairs, which creaked a bit, but who doesn’t like a minorly creaky step? It gives such boring a thing some character. Upstairs were 4 rooms. Two were almost identical bedrooms, with only a small table, a single bed on a steel bedframe, and a chair in them. The only difference was that one was painted periwinkle blue and faced north, the other fuschia and south.

The next room was a grand bathroom and was above the kitchen, and was painted almost completely clinical, pure white. An old standalone bath, held upright by four feet moulded into the shape of lion paws, stood proudly cantered on the left wall, with the largest windows yet just next to it, ensuring that an unfortunate passing robin would be sure to catch a fright. The (thankfully) modern toilet was built into the far wall, and was next to the sink, which was a big clunky thing, and reminded me of why the saying used to be actually somewhat funny. On the right was a small dressing room, filled with now empty shelves, and a smell of very slight mildew and fabric softener. Hidden behind the bathroom’s door was a rather clinical 5 by 5 by 8 upright cut into the wall that had an almost watering can like nozzle fixed at the top, and a garden hose like tap on one of the ‘’walls’’. This was the ‘’’’shower’’’’. I saw no temperature nozzle, and realised there was no choice here, only pain. All of a sudden, I began to miss the city a little more.

I finally came to what I was to be my bedroom, which was decorated in a delicious shade of blonde (though, it may have been so appealing due to my own like for women who wore it). It was a large room, with a fittingly large queen sized bed centred along the wall, bedside tables on either side, with a large old hickory leather travel trunk at the foot of the bed.  3 differently styled wardrobes were dotted around the rooms walls. One was Japanese in appearance, with a beautiful mural painted across the two doors, and then otherwise raven. One a simple, but large oak thing, which seemed to lean slightly to the left. The last had once clearly been its twin, but was now covered in glitter, little drawings in crayon, and was marked on its side with 2 of the same names repeated upward as the age next to them grew too. It was a wardrobe that had been loved, and so I was pleased to have it here with me. ‘‘But the back blurb of the book promised me a romance story. What does a soggy description of a house have to do with that?’’ I hear you moan.

Not much really, if I’m honest. Though You’re quite the impatient bitch aren’t you? But if this book is to mean anything to you, as it does me, you have to come with me on this journey. You see, Ireland has a magic too it. Its raw and old. It lets life creep into every little thing that will hold it, and so all these pieces of furniture and appliances are just that, furniture and appliances. But for my three months there, they each took on a little life of their own and became dear friends to me. This is how you must see when reading this book. The best way to understand it is to go and hold something of yours that you’ve had for an age and feel yourself give it life. Ireland is a place where even a fence can take on such a life. And does so rather well. So yes, at times this will be a little pretentious, a little overly dramatic and poetic, and a little strange, but I will try my best to put not only my thoughts, but what I was feeling into words for you, dear reader. All I ask is that you try your hand at reading them as if you were there with me, and not simply an observer. Don’t read the moment, live it like you live the memory of your first kiss: with vivacity and a passion that you can’t escape.

 But you were promised ghosts in the chapter title, and you shall have them. Unfortunately, no white sheets came to life and booed at me that night. But as I sat falling into the sofa, the fading light of day painting the bookshelf, tv, and fireplace in fantastic hues of blush and tangerine, I thought on why I’d come here. I’d come with more than just physical baggage. You thought a person ventures out into the Irish wilderness to live in a farm for 3 months on a whim? I’d like to hope my whims would land me in some place sunnier, and with more obvious ways to escape or drown my sorrows like Ibiza, or New York. Unfortunately, I came here for a reason. I am Irish, but I’d never lived there. I’d not grown up there. I’d missed out on the unique zest for life that Ireland gifted its people, and I was in dire need for it now. Why? Because I was broken hearted, broke, and hopeless. My heart had been broken, as it often is, but a love turned sour. We’d been together for one amazing year, three good months, one odd month, then one great month, and then three months where I’d watched them fall in love with someone else. Now it had been one year without them, and without hope in the idea of love. It was not a pleasant feeling. I wanted them, but at the same time knew it would be like drinking poison. Even as I write this, my hand squeezes the pen as I’m forced to remembered fond memories that I wish forgotten.   I was broke because, for the last few months, I’d not written anything. Well, I’d written things. Small articles for a paper. A short story that lost an armature writing competition to a tale called ‘’Me and Rum: Fun Fun Fun’’. A children’s book that only proved to me that it was harder to write a children’s book than I’d previously thought. Turns out not every animal is cute when it can talk. Because of this, I’d lost all hope in myself as a writer, and the roaring blazes that had once fuelled me as I wrote now grew dimmer by the day.

And so, I’d returned to where my ancestors had been born, and grown, and bled, and cried, and loved, and fought,  and danced, and lost, and died in the hope that they might lend me their strength, or that the zest I’d missed out on would be paid to me with a bundle of interests attached. This, oddly, would turn out to be true.

But for now, simply imagine eyes closing as a laptop slowly slides off the side of a lap and into the sofa. A head falling into a chest. And the sound of snoring filling the house. I’d fallen asleep not knowing that beyond these walls she lay in wait for me, as much as I had, in a way, been waiting for her. I wonder if she’d spotted me as I’d come into the house, and watched through those rusty windows as I met each room, cooked with the agga, and mastered a duet with the tv where I held its antenna out the window and it, in turn, played the news. I hope she’d not seen me dance around under the showers cold water though. If she did, I hope it at least made her laugh.

[adzandiel-blog]

Fine, We Were Responsible for the Straight Pride Parade

*Originally titled "the time we thought straight people couldn’t get any dumber, made a bet, and then watched as they hit rock bottom and kept digging"

This is mainly directed at you Straight Pride Parade bastards. I read an article today, showed it to Aden, and we decided that yeah, we should probably fess up in a minor way.

You know that feeling sometimes when you trip or fall in your dream, and wake up with a jolt, feeling like you just fell a long way?‌ Yeah, I need to take credit for that idea. Not that I go around each night in the metaphysical dream realm and throw people off cliffs just for the kicks1, but that whole jolting you awake at 3 AM thing? That was totally my business pitch.

Anyway, that doesn’t relate in any way to this post.‌ Just keep in mind that we (both angels and demons alike) have the ability to just dip into others’ dreams and extend a little Heavenly or infernal influence.

This is a relatively recent event compared to all the other stories we’ve got, but we figured it’s a fun story to tell.

A few months ago, Aden and I‌ saw a gay couple being kicked out of a coffee shop, with the manager proclaiming loudly that ‘this is a Christian establishment’2 3 and that said couple should never return. And I’m the demon and all, yes, but then, I had to almost physically restrain Aden from rushing at the homophobic dick and giving him a shiner.

We left right alongside the couple in protest, bought them a meal at another diner4, and I‌ personally made sure that when the manager went home that night, he’d find that his walls were much thinner than he remembered, and that the couples living next to him, below him, and above him suddenly had much more energy for their libidos.

So when we went home that night, we were suitably tipsy, which is a context that often leads to entertainingly tangent-y discussions. It started with Aden drunkenly flipping through the Bible, finding Leviticus 18:22, and cursing when he finds the translation wrong.5

See, the thing is, the English translation of the Hebrew Bible is just slightly off. America paid for it, back in the day, and we’re not entirely sure what the Hell happened6 with the translation, but it came out different and gave millions of people the wrong impression.

In the Hebrew, Greek, German, Swedish, Norwegian, and undoubtedly countless many other translations of the Bible, the quote “Man shall not lie with man as he does with a woman, for it is an abomination” is instead (correctly) translated into “Man shall not lie with young boys as he does with a woman, for it is an abomination”.7

See the difference?

It’s all a great big bloody misunderstanding, is what it is. The Bible condemns pederasty.

So we began thinking. If millions—billions, really—of desperate Christians will believe and live by a wrong translation, how much stupider can they get?

We made a bet.

Aden’s money was on straight people already hitting rock bottom. Mine was on the belief that straight people—and people, in general—have, in fact, already hit rock bottom, but that it wouldn’t stop them from descending further.8 In fact, I‌ said, I can hear the pick-axe sales skyrocketing already.

And we had to prove that one of us was right, didn’t we?

So our million-dollar idea was this: If we could get someone to celebrate heterosexuality with pride, in the sense of June being Pride Month9 and rainbows being flags of proud defiance against oppression and all, then I‌ would win the bet. If our targets refused to do something so blatantly disrespectful, then Aden would win.

You can probably guess who won.10

That night and the rest of the nights in the week, Aden and I would occasionally infiltrate and pop up in random dreams of heterosexual Christians (and/or other religions/lack thereof) and we tried our best to influence them into thinking that they, as straight people, deserve to be celebrated and proud of their sexuality.11

We didn’t expect it to, you know, work.12

And the thing is, you know, this isn’t even a new thing!‌ I went ahead and researched straight pride parades, and apparently, it’s been around since the late 1900’s, which is ridiculous. Humanity’s been around for… as long as we have, which is give-or-take five millennium, and they still sit around with the ability to pull this kind of utter bullshit.

How incredibly stupid is that?

I don’t remember their names (the guys behind the parade in Boston), but just in case they’re reading this:‌ Hi. Right big idiotic bastards, the lot of you. So idiotic, really, it’s almost hilarious. And besides that, you have an incredibly stupid website with an equally ridiculous domain name.

And one last thing:‌ Advocating to put an ‘S’ in ‘LGBTQ’?‌

God, Satan, and every being in between, I don’t even know where to start with that one.

It’sGreatToBeStraight…InOurCoreBeliefsOfRespectingTheLGBTQ+Community. God bless, Satan strengthen, Amen, and all that.

Until next time, folks. Don't make us write our next post with righteous anger again.

Or… kick people off cliffs just for the throws? ↩︎

Which, by the way, is an utterly stupid thing to say in response to kicking gay couples out of your establishment. Fuck you if you do that. God never said shit about disliking gay couples, She only talked about disliking pedophiles. And Her son just disliked figs. We would know. Aden met him once. In a stroke of demonic genius, I introduced him to apples. He liked them. ↩︎

The waiter who was serving the couple looked downright mortified and embarrassed about his superior’s behavior. Aden managed to convince him—afterwards, in a subtle manner—to resign, and he made sure of the fact that the ex-waiter (he couldn’t have been more than 18 in age) found a nice job with decent pay. ↩︎

The diner in mention had friendly people running the place and excellent food. The couple was grateful, and insisted on buying us drinks. Right now, the four of us are engaged in a loop of buying each other food and drinks. It’s fun, really. ↩︎

Aden wants me to mention that he never curses. That’s wrong, because I‌ can quote him, word for word, on that night—“Zan, Zan, would yo—look at this. Look at this bullshit—’Man shall not lie with man, for it is an abomination’—they really thought that was—God, ‘m not drunk enough for this shit”—and many other nights as well. Don’t give me that look, angel. ↩︎

Although Hell definitely might’ve happened. My kind aren’t inherently homophobic or anything, but it wouldn’t have been unthinkable for a demon to think it funny for a large amount of people to hate homosexuals. I’m not that guy. Abaddon definitely would’ve approved the idea, though. Whichever bastard it was probably got a commendation for it. ↩︎

This is because, back in those days, they encouraged a system in which boys (with ages ranging from 8-12) were able to be ‘coupled’ by older men. There’s even Ancient Greek documents that show us how their parents used this bullshit to help their sons’ social status. Needless to say, there was a lot of demonic curses going around in Ancient Greek. I used up my quota then and had to call Abaddon for an extension. ↩︎

The commonly known phrase ‘The descent into Hell is easy’ drowns out a long-forgotten alternate; "facilius descensus fatuitas", which more or less translates to ‘Easier is the descent into foolishness’. ↩︎

My idea. Aden helped. ↩︎

Three things to do as I‌ wished on Aden’s part. Still got two to go. Details not privy. ↩︎

It took Aden a lot of convincing on my part for him to actually do something that wasn’t purely good and angelic in nature, but it worked. Mainly because we were bored, and we don’t have much to lose if our automatically-generated reports to our respective Head Offices don’t shine a good light on us. Besides, we made them forget their dreams, but retain the influence. ↩︎

I‌ mean, I‌ did, but… I‌ didn’t. You know? ↩︎

[vikingqueer]

22 Questions

@taliskermortem tagged me in this and I love talking about myself so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

RULES: simply answer the following 22 q’s and then tag 22 (or however many) people you’d love to get to know more!

Name/Nickname: Amalie. I don’t really have one consistent nickname, but if you genuinely can’t say my name (something along the lines of /a'mæːljə/, but I’m not super proficient in IPA), Am is fine (and coincidentally also the name I give baristas in other countries).

Zodiac sign: Aries sun, Sagittarius moon, Taurus Rising (I don’t actually know what any of this means, but people on here seem to love listing all three)

Height: 167cm, which is somewhere along the lines of 5′6.

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Last thing I googled: “sommertid”, because the birth chart calculator told me to not take summertime into account.

Favourite musician/s: MIKA, hands down. Other musicians I like are dodie, Claudia Boleyn, Ben Platt, Oh Land, Stromae, Tom Rosenthal, and Panic! At The Disco. Lately I’ve also been getting into Hozier. My guilty pleasures are Thomas Holm and Johnny Deluxe.

Last song I listened to: Clean Eyes – SYML

Song stuck in my head: Selvmord På Dansegulvet – Thomas Holm (because this fucking made me think about him. And now we’re at it I might as well mention that this is where my blog title is form)

Followers: Idk, I think it’s like 420 or something (ayyyy nice)

Following: 669 (ayy kinda nice and also 3 too many). That’s just what happens when you have many and varied interests.

Amount of sleep: I go for 8-9 hours every night, but since I’m in my gap year and only work part time, it’s usually anywhere between 5 and 12 hours.

Lucky number: 9

What I’m wearing: Underwear and a grey t-shirt with a neon flamingo on it.

Dream Job: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ that’s why I’m gonna be taking a gap year more. I’m currently considering studying linguistics or forest and nature management (cand. silv.) which are two very different things.

Dream Trip: Lately I’ve been feeling really horny for Italy, but idk what that’s about. This summer I’m going to Prague, which I’m really excited for! I do however also really want to go to Iceland or the Faroese Islands and I would also like to spend an extended period (read: not just a few days) in Sweden or Norway or Finland (why are literally all the Nordic countries cooler than Denmark). I’d love to go to Greenland some time, but it’s not at the top of my list. I’m also thinking India would be a cool country to visit, as well as Cuba. There are so many places I want to go, idk what to fucking tell you. Top of my list is Prague currently, because I’ve been wanting to go back there the past 5? 6? years and it’s finally happening!

Favourite food: Oh that’s a hard one, I love food. My go to foods if I want something that resembles a dish and is easy are fried or scrambled eggs or grilled cheese.

Instruments: I play the violin (technically, I haven’t played much the past few years), as well as some piano, a bit of ukulele and a tiny bit of guitar. Once upon a time I managed to get decent at recorder (which is an awful instrument thank you very much), but I’ve forgotten most of it.

Languages: My native language is Danish and I speak English fluently. I’m decent at reading and writing Spanish, but not so much speaking and listening. I’m trying pretty hard to learn German but it’s weird because I kind of already understand a lot of German due to it being close to Danish, but I struggle to string together sentences. And then there’s obviously the mutual intelligibility privilege that comes with Swedish and Norwegian.

Favourite song/s: That’s a tie between Origin Of Love and Les Baisers Perdus, both by MIKA.

Random fact: I only learned to roll my r’s a year and a half into learning Spanish.

Aesthetic: Oh that’s a tough one. @riceandquinoah once made this for me and I think it’s pretty on point:

I also have this tag with 4 posts in it only.

I tag @riceandquinoah @thegrooound @boxclown @videogayqueen @norawithasideoffries @touring-is-never-boring @cevulusvoluptatemcapit @softeliot @nessauepa @valtersvn @badwolfboy42 @languagemoose @feminist-goddess @scandiblr @osariemenissodonewiththisshit and anyone else who might want to do it, fuck I don’t know 22 people.

If you see this and want to do it, please DO IT and tag me, I love getting to know people!

And lastly, if you see this and are confused as to who I am, you might know me from one of my sideblogs, @bievamohn or @vikinglanguage.