#incidentally I have so many dog points now

[waitingforeresh]

Speaking of Hot Lady Knight:

Thank you Bakin for helping me bond with my dog ☺️☺️☺️

Oh and with Ishtar too I guess

[margareth-lv]

😵‍💫🫡 Anxiety, apathy, withdrawal, delusions 🫡😵‍💫

@odessa-2 inspired me with her note today and a reminder of the post Oliver Jeffers shared on Instagram on 3 January 2021 (side note: I have a feeling this is a completely random date and has nothing to do with anything other than Caitríona being at the time, as many people believe, already heavily pregnant with this child, whose birth wasn't announced until August,  but I could be wrong. Is there anything that you associate with this date?).

*** *** *** My body reacts nervously to any event involving Caitríona and Oliver Jeffers. Maybe it's some kind of PTSD, I'll explain in more detail below. *** *** *** Anyway, my first reaction to the news in fandom over the weekend about the New York Times article was quite nervous.

😅

In October, […] the visual artist and author Oliver Jeffers, 46, hosted a candlelit dinner for a group of Irish and Northern Irish artists and friends.

Caitríona was also present at the dinner to celebrate the launch of Oliver's latest book, 'Begin Again'.

Caitríona/Oliver, that combination doesn't sound right to me, it means smoke and mirrors and supporting the narrative. Luckily I was wrong this time.

*** *** ***

2021. Oliver Jeffers at Caitríona's 'wedding', sitting in the fireplace recess in a white suit, accompanied by a stone dog. There was no better place for him than the soot-blackened fireplace? There was no other suit than white for a friend's wedding? There was no better companion for this wedding than a stone dog? ❓

Smoke and mirrors. As dense as a spider's web, a web of connections, dependencies and interests.

*** *** ***

July 2022. Oliver Jeffers invites Caitríona to take part in the 'Our Place' festival he is organising.

Here they are in conversation with Kathy Clugston in Belfast on 2 July 2022 ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Caitríona is sitting on the stage, tense.

Excuse me. I don't mean to be rude, but she looked like she was getting dressed for the event in the dark. And when you watch the whole thing, you realise that, surprisingly, she wasn't at all comfortable on stage. She didn't have much to say except for her personal memories. She didn't have any general thoughts, any wider perspective than her own. You could see her lack of confidence and fear in her body language, the unspoken part of communication. Sadness, stress and depression. So what does she say? What does Caitríona say?

The fandom has been buzzing for years about the fact that Caitríona never referred to 🧛🏻‍♂️ as her husband. So now Caitríona, sitting uncomfortably next to Oliver Jeffers, raised her right hand in an embarrassed laugh.

Well, her husband used to say, wait, what did he used to say? Oh yes, he used to say that a strong personality keeps their accent. I mean, the most interesting thing is what happens after that. Because the most surprising thing is what she starts talking about after she calls her 'husband'. Within a couple of sentences she starts talking about Sam, you know, the one she works with. And "Sam, who I work with, for the last three months he's been saying, 'What's up with you, you're really Irish all of a sudden'". And then she talks about her 'only son'.

A brilliantly acted scene (if it weren't for all the nervous laughing and tensing up).

💁🏻‍♀️

You ask, how do we know which 'husband' was in the festival audience? From here, of course ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Smoke and mirrors. As dense as a spider's web, a web of connections, dependencies and interests.

*** *** *** Incidentally, I am keen to compare Caitríona's pictures with her 'husband' with those of her real-life friends:

*** *** *** That's why when I saw the 'NYT' article about Caitríona and Oliver Jeffers, my stomach tightened. This time, however, I couldn't have been more wrong. 🙃🙃🙃

… because Caitríona's handbag was on the floor, near her feet, as someone on 'X' pointed out.

Which means that the professional purse-holder had been given the evening off on the day of this dinner.

Can one feel more relieved?

❓

I ate my breakfast in peace and quiet.

*** *** *** Source 1: Starting at 36:29 is the short clip I quoted above.

Source 2:

*** *** ***

Voilà. Enjoy, @lovehimloveherstuff (Although reading what I've written here probably has nothing to do with 'enjoying'. I am so sorry.)

[December 11, 2023]

[basedkikuenjoyer]

No Conflict On My End

Catch the classic Wano trick? Scattershot chapter but the title gives you the clue; conflict. It was smoother but we've stepped away from the Straw Hats, they aren't in this one. I said this when we finished Bonney's cutaway. If you look at what's left it's Stussy as a springboard to Bakkin/Marco which we haven't checked in on since their first appearance parallel to Egghead. SWORD also has an unfired Chekov's Gun with Drake. Either of those can pull a Kuma and rewrite Wano. Only one person there can do that and it was the girl playing coy in the end.

Last week, it was "If he's gone, who am I to live for?" This week it's this titular line about inner conflict, how it's proof of your humanity. Especially with the Seraphim and building off of CP9 being these vicious government dogs who just need the order to indulge bloodlust right by it. That role doesn't have to be who you are, and if circumstance deals you a bad hand that forces you to go against your nature those conflicted feelings are proof you're not losing yourself to it. The difference to me though is like we said with Stussy maybe needing her own "Okobore" era. I don't think this is really Kiku's story replacing humanity with gender identity...I see it more as a parallel to the implied backstory and growth that allowed you to give it your all freely on one final show with the old gang. Also, don't forget Bakkin was last seen with Marco and that's all tied up in Sphinx Island as one of these wayward villages in need of a humble guardian.

Oh yeah, and doing this while York introduces a truckload of ambiguity. This is a cool scene. Because we really have to stop and think about what York knows, what Stella knew, and of course these weird gaps when we also now know Vegapunk Prime was with Bonney during the Void Night. As above, so below and all that right? A story about the Void Century on the surface when the micro clash on this island has that big blank night before raising so many questions.

Specifically highlighting the idea VP is a horrible liar and a bad actor. Is there like, anything specific we could pair this with in York's conclusion that would enhance the aroma?

Hey look! We got Robonosuke and Momonosuke in the same chapter! If you count the cover page we also got both Tsurus which is nice. York's theory is that Robonosuke is set to guard the broadcast. My point is that, alongside Stella telling us his limited version of the Void Century after a string of unreliable narrators we have York offering us this theory in frustration. Specifically highlighting solid reasons to be flummoxed. Vegapunk may have pulled a big brained plan all along, he was dicking around with Robonosuke when we met him. But he also like, weirdly disappeared from that scene too which is one of those little things I try to remember about Egghead. Vegapunk also wasn't really far along at getting Robonosuke online.

This becomes some really good shit though if there is a mystery interloper. Because really it could go both ways. If York's right, they could already be there and ready to make use of it. A trap. If York's wrong, the chaos just gave you a perfect distraction and it's a perfect sign of beating the genius by getting in her head. I still think there's something to the idea that Vegapunk didn't have time overnight to fix this dude. Luffy's G5 heartbeat being a signal or that backhanded way of someone making good on his assumption you just need to know Robonosuke's real name? That works in a night we still haven't filled in. And no matter what this big, bad mofo is about to start wrecking shit. Which is pretty cool.

Last but not least we have our reactions to the message. One big thing I thought was cool was seeing a lot of Alabasta stuff but not Vivi directly. V cool. Not like these breakout stories anchored around the three ladies are exclusive; Stussy had that great beat introducing her inner conflict during Bonney's and Bonney was incidentally involved in the stuff @ Mariejois. Before we get to our main man here too I'd highlight Shakky potentially carrying over that idea from Nojiko & Miss Goldenweek last week. Practical, grounded women aren't paying much attention and going about their day-to-day.

But then you got Rayleigh. Love this little line of conflict between Vegapunk and Ray. Because like we hinted at last week on a meta level this is kinda fucked up for VP to be just dumping all the Void Century stuff. Or it would be if he wasn't walking that fine line of not really revealing too much. Notice how he's kinda back to talking about his own stuff over the past few months as York puzzles it out. We can forgive Ray for not catching the subtleties though because he's drunk. I like this balance honestly, especially when you have Crocus kinda straddling the two.

One last thought too that just can kinda go anywhere with this message...Robin still has like, four regular Poneglyphs we've seen but not really fleshed out. The other two in Big Mom's stash, the one above the secret passage in the Flower Capitol, and the one Law found on Onigashima. She might already know something important Vega doesn't and her being mysteriously injured last night is a great excuse for not giving them time to touch on it.

[opinated-user]

There's a lot to unpack here. But Lily is claiming now that Courtney sexually abused her.

https://www.tumblr.com/lily-orchard/739777528155308032/okay-so-i-have-the-source-that-brittany-and?source=share

alright *cracking knuckles* it's going to be one of those days.

did everyone read that? did you all catch the slip up there? let me bring it back. "but i'm not 14 anymore, Courtney" 14 was the age that Courtney had when he bought a lock to his door and finally stopped LO from coming to molest him in his sleep. LO was 15. 14 is the age that LO has constantly shoved into multiple on her pieces of work (wikis, fanfiction, even videos) for young female characters that she wanted to sexualize or romanticize. 14 was the age of the "sister" in that archived video (that you can find in that link, for anyone curious) that LO argued should be allowed to keep having a sexual/romantic relationship with her 15 year old brother. (also 15 is the age in which she started grooming ginger, but that's just incidental here) is this the smoking gun proof that LO did something to Courtney? not necesarily. but you hear someone who has groomed a teen that age and that has sexualized that age, especially refering to adults, who you know has a history of multiple people accusing them of coercing others into doing sexual things for them, now also being accused by their own sibling... which possibility sounds more pleasible? either 1, LO this entire time has been just the bravest soldier ever, keeping quiet about the supposed sexual Courtney abuse inflicted on her, even after Courtney came out with a testimony video talking about what she did to him, and she refused to speak about it just because... i don't know, invent some reason here if you want to. so she has kept quiet all this time, despite the many months that have passed since then, and only decided to speak... when an account linked to CSEM was linked to her. but that was pure coincidence, i'm sure! just like it was purely coincidental that LO decided to reveal to everyone, including her own wife that was left in the dark, that she had actually survived cancer and chemotherapy she endured for at least 6 months without anyone knowing, right after Courtney spoke out officially in a public platform!

"she must have reached her breaking point", someone might claim. "i wouldn't care anymore about anything if someone was accusing me of soliciting that kind of content either and would explode too". sure, i can believe that. ... if they didn't had a history of sexually coercing people to do sexual things for them and then trying to turn the tables on them, despite the overwhelming evidence against them. but sure it's interesting the timing, isn't it? futhermore, this is still assuming that LO didn't want to reveal that the person who is accusing her of molestation had sexually abused her because... reasons. the woman who told everyone she fantasized about being thrown to a cage full of horny dogs just stayed quiet, being coy and discreet, because reasons. she's just brave and reserved like that, even when the person who abused her for so long is still trying to abuse her as an adult. she never overshares and always knows to pull her punches shen she thinks she can win against the people who accuse her of horrible things, right? (oh but Courtney is culpable of murder and molestation, remember, and also guilty of not stopping a full grown adult from abusing LO when he was only 6 and he also never suffered any abuse at the hands of anyone despite presenting clear signs of it. LO knows for a fact that Courtney is a liar, liar who lies, because she said so. and no, it's not because is just convenient. and no, it's not to dismiss all the evidence against her that has accumulated by other people that never even knew Courtney. because LO said so. and why would she ever lie?) the 2 option to believe here, well, do i need to say it? i'll anyway.

LO panicked when another account in another site full of CSEM was associated with her and is trying to DARVO her way into turning it everything against Courtney and Brittany (while still insisting i'm just a sideblog from, with no evidence of her own), denying not only the account is her but also that everything she's accused is some elaborate plot to smear her just because Courtney just likes to abuse her so much. Courtney, the one who lost all contact with the family who definitely was not abusive to her, in a house where she definitely never felt unsafe, with a sibling who definitely never crossed any boundaries, and nobody even knew existed until recently.

that Courtney whose wild claims and lies about LO have been taken at face value by a self admitted child groomer who literally confessed to Brittany he only liked to stir the pot.

that's the difference between us saying that account could belong to LO and LO claiming that Courtney is the biggest abuser present in the room. for as circumstantial as they might be, there are valid reasons to believe that LO would be able to look at real children sexually and take satisfaction from it (the writing of stockholm and all it's subsequent pieces, but also the grooming of Ginger and Ink Rose while they were both minors, not to mention the defending incest between two minors for an entire video). are any of them a smoking fun, the one true evidence that proves without a doubt that LO would also be capable to actively be searching those images? no. but it doesn't sound impossible either considering that history. meanwhile LO just has claims with no basis at all that you really, really have to get creative to justify in the first place. i could write a whole novel just trying to make sense of LO's actions as a completely innocent person, but that's the issue: i shouldn't have to do that in order to believe a person. it shouldn't be this easy to see that something is very wrong with someone who claims they're entirely innocent.

lastly, and i say this just because LO is the one who cares about that angle, not me, where is your lawyer in all of this, LO? someone is accusing you of molesting them when you never even touched them! that someone had an impact on your channel and the views that it receives! it had a dent on your pristine reputation and will continue to have it as long we, all of us with a critical blog, keep talking about it! you keep denying the claims against you because nobody is "lawyering up". so i hope you don't mind that the same question is applied to you when you accuse other people of commiting crimes. in this case specifically, libel. you have been so insistent on that lawyer "reuniting evidence" and forming a case. it will be interesting to see if that ever pans out for you. keep me updated when it does.

[softlyfiercely]

So I’m a therapeutic nanny for an 8yo with autism and adhd right

Well today went like this

Arrive at 11:00 which is early but it’s because the family is dealing with a renovation at their house and staying in a hotel suite atm and the hotel needed them to move rooms today so the plan was for me to get him early so they could pack and move without kiddo underfoot.

When I get there though it turns out that the big computer oopsie poo has made it so the hotel can’t issue them a new key card so kiddo and I have to stay in the suite to let them in every time they come over with a new armful of stuff

In the meantime I decide to work with him on some summer homework that only I ever work with him on, and he is out of practice so has a big ol meltdown

Try to have a chat with the parents about an ongoing concern of mine; discover incidentally that they just decided to take him off his meds for Reasons. (This is actually unrelated to the specific ongoing concern which does not get addressed)

Ask him what he wants to do that day because we are working on independent choice. When he claims inability to think of literally anything to, dad suggests bowling. Kiddo immediately decides he wants to go bowling. Parents have been coached many times not to jump in and do the thinking for him…but I guess we’re going bowling? (We have never gone bowling before)

Finally get out of there and go to subway with him. He continues to struggle mightily to order his own sandwich at subway but with much coaching and strategic distance he manages. He also gets Dorito crumbs in his hair

Drive 30 minutes north to take him to his OT appointment

Go to the park for 30 minutes because we’re early for OT. Kiddo attempts to give himself head trauma with a tree branch while I nearly sit in dog poo. It’s incredibly hot out.

Attempt to discuss ongoing concern with OT; achieve discouraging clarity about source of the concern (it’s the OT)

Feel very upset and frustrated about the fact that the parents and the OT are not on the same page as me and effectively rendering much of my work useless and/or impossible. Send some pissed off texts to my friends and watch half an episode of television on a picnic blanket outside OT it is very very warm

Drive 30 minutes south to the closest bowling alley

Park in the world’s weirdest parking garage. It is so fucking hot out

Discover that the entire bowling alley is down because of the borked computer situation and there is no bowling to be done. Explain this to kiddo three times because he is straight up not listening - not like in denial or upset just unable to pay attention long enough to receive the information “we cannot do bowling” immediately after asking the question “so are we going to go bowling”

The arcade apparently does not run on cloud strike unlike the bowling so I get him some arcade credits, tell him he needs to budget them wisely

Play one game of basketball connect four before kiddo sees the air hockey table and wants to only play that. This is actually pretty fine with me bc I really like air hockey

Unfortunately that means I am also rather good at air hockey

Realize it is not even 3:30 and I need to keep kiddo occupied until at least 5:00 and I am not buying him any more arcade credits (the parents will reimburse me but I already told him he needed to budget them and it would not be therapeutic for him to get more)

Decide to start ensuring that the remaining credits worth of air hockey last as long as possible by trying not to score goals on him very quickly

However he keeps rapidly scoring goals on himself so this plan does not work

By about 4:30 his credits are done. However thanks to the magic of executive dysfunction he takes a while to on the prize machine cashing out his points because why would I hurry him or reorient him to the task, go at your own pace little buddy

Get back to the hotel. the computers are happier now so I can get a key from the front desk; parents not back yet so we do more of his homework. He has another mini meltdown but when properly incentivized is perfectly capable of completing the work

Then we read a chapter of a very very bad Star Wars novelization about Darth Vader until mom comes home

[megarywrites]

Meet the Author tag game

I was tagged by @thewriteflame (thank you!)

Rules: use this picrew to make yourself and answer the questions

Three fun facts about me:

I think i'll make these about writing too lol

I've been writing seriously since I was 18! It wasn't something I'd been dreaming of doing since I was young, despite my love for creating stories with my sister (who incidentally got me into writing in the first place)...so I've been doing this for twelve years now

Something I'm gonna try to do with my books is have a cameo of my pet(s). Currently, I just have one dog, but I'd like to get another eventually as well as a cat, so I'll have more options someday!

For a while, I considered the idea of trying to get into writing screenplays, but the desire to do that fizzled out. I did get a book about it, and because one of my goals with my writing voice is to have a cinematic feel to it, I'm still going to casually study the art of creating screenplays so I can apply that to my books

Favorite season: Autumn!! The colors, the chill in the air, the petrichor the general overcastness of it all? Absolutely sublime

Continent where I live: US of A 😔

How I spend my time: When I'm not at work, I would like to say that I'm writing, but that's not always the case lol I moved recently, and there's a lot more to do where I live now compared to before, so I've been going on a lot more hikes with my dog, which has been so much fun. And being out there in nature has been great creatively for me, because it gives me a lot of time to think about worldbuilding and plot points, so even if I'm not writing physically, I'm still mentally developing Dracrie.

Living alone like I do means I also have to cook for myself, but I do enjoy it (despite that being what I do for a living, currently). But really I like being able to work on developing the food for my different cultures

Are you published?: not yet. someday tho, I hope

Introvert or extrovert?: very introverted lol

Favorite meal: this varies by my mood lol I like so many different cuisines, it's really hard to narrow it down

not sure who to tag, so sorry if you've already done this: @nectargrapes @isherwoodj @flowerprose @daisywords @ashen-crest @muddshadow

[plumbus-central]

Hey :) so, question, does Minnie have any kids? (also are they a cat or dog person?)

hey so i meant to answer this one but then shit went down so sorry for the wait! But yes!

Minnie briefly dated a man named Gabriel at the same time Rick and Diane were together (recently married) when they were all in their early-mid 20s. Gabriel kinda sucked! And he and minnie had no chemistry together! But they still stuck together anyway because it was just sort of “something to do”. (that and minnie was very envious of rick and diane’s relationship going so well and also she was in love with the both of them on some level).

Minnie got pregnant on accident and after a long time to think she decided to keep the baby, and Gabriel decided he need some time to think too. (He left her.) Minnie isnt necessarily bothered by this bc like... who needs em? She’s got rick and diane! Who incidentally, after minnie decides to go through with the pregnancy, start considering having kids too...

So blah blah blah, minnie later gives birth to her son Anthony Richard De Gaulle and a few months later Diane gives birth to her and rick’s daughter Bethany Minerva Sanchez :).

Sorry to end on a sad note but, he does pass away as a baby. No definitive reason yet, I bounce between cancer and SIDS being a cause but like i said i haven’t decided. In any case he doesn’t survive past infancy. Minnie tries for a baby again a few years later (thru a donor) and is actually pregnant at the time of the garage incident and Diane and Beth’s deaths. The stress of which (and a shaky pregnancy to begin with) cause a miscarriage.

And an unfortunate add on to all of this is that during the making and testing of the initial portal gun (after the bomb), exposure to all the chemicals/science crap makes both minnie and rick sterile. Something they dont realize until many years later. (this is not true for all ricks and minnies who made portal guns tho).

(for transparency’s sake ill let u know that minnie can GET pregnant, but she will always miscarry. There is no way to fix this, and her inability to have a child again has haunted her her entire life.)

Minnie DEEPLY values that by rick’s actions while she was gone, she now has a family. It plays into how protective and almost overly-loving she is towards them. She will do anything to keep them, bc what she has now with rick and the family, is all she’s ever wanted.

All of this also plays into rick’s feelings about the emotionless chaos of the universe. Minnie SHOULD have been a mother. (well technically she is but u get the point) She would have been a GREAT mother. But the universe didn’t let her :( bc it takes what ever it wants, and doesn’t care who it hurts.

[astarab1aze]

Truth Serum + How do you really feel about Jezebel? [ Kaede ]

truth serum!

Annoyance struck him on a dime, speech compelled by - something, something he couldn't fight.

"I-- Think she's fucking irritating. I don't know what her problem is, and I never know what she's thinking until she's throwing herself into the middle of a fight or telling me in so many words she thinks I'm a git. It's frustrating to never be able to have a solid conversation; She always rebuffs, attacks me, or incidentally drags me into a fight when all I'm trying to do is make sure she stays alive. She thinks she knows what type of person I am, or doesn't care, and reads my efforts as a personal affront-- But that's the furthest thing from the truth. She'd know that if she stopped for a minute and talked to me. Maybe she knows and just doesn't care, that seems more likely. Obnoxious, annoying- It makes me want to throttle her, cut her down where she stands, and I hate that because I don't fully understand why I feel so fucking strongly about it. She doesn't care about me, but I care about her in a way I can't make sense of, no matter how tempting the idea of murder can be.

"And I hate, even more, that I can't help but draw similarities between us. That I feel some flavor of kinship for her. That I'd like, maybe one day, to see her be less like me, less like whoever made her into the violent asshole she is now. I mean, it's like looking into a... broken mirror at times. I just can't stand it. I want her to be quiet and listen to me. I want her to settle down and stop thrashing. I want her to let me help her. But fuck, if I can't do it myself, I guess I'll never get her to do the same. Too volatile, both of us, and I'm not sure if that's a trait unique to us or if it's just part of what it means to be fucked up, or human. In either case, I think of her as an asshole. An obnoxious little shit, like she thinks of me, but maybe I care just a little more. I don't want her to die. I'd be even more pissed off at her if she kicked the bucket and I wasn't there to do anything about it - I'd also be royally pissed at myself, but that doesn't matter. And maybe she doesn't need saving, but fuck her. I don't care how good she is in a fight; I don't and won't ever allow the people I'm allied with to die or suffer injuries if I can help it. I don't expect her to do the same for me, but the least she could do is let someone who maybe, sorta, kinda at least cares about her safety and wellbeing even a little to help her out.

"As I'm sure you've gathered, she makes me fucking mad. Now why, really, do you think that is, huh? Because in my heart of hearts, I want to be close to her and I fucking hate it. She'll never want to be close to me, so it's a wash. It literally doesn't matter what I say or do. I will always just be an idiotic potential threat to her, an enemy she just happens to be forced into an allyship with because I won't just leave her be. Do you know how embarrassing this is? How utterly moot a point. It would be easier if I didn't have to deal with this anymore, but I'd still fucking - worry, about her like it matters. This is why I still drink whisky. I hate this. I hate thinking and feeling shit for people who don't give a rat's ass about me, yet here I am... Here I am. Like the trained dog my clan turned me into. And she wonders why I'm so dogged."

[palaeophilist]

there is happiness to find

I felt delirious as I confessed the truth beneath the anxieties, as though my thoughts were getting lost underneath a wave.

The way it felt when I used to try to be cool and do ocean sports. What was it called? duck diving? I didn't like it: angling the front of the board into the wave, ducking under it, getting lost in the tidal energy, even if just for a few seconds. I said, I need time to trace the lines of things. I need time to reflect, to make sense. But when I have this time, I seem to do everything I can think of to avoid myself. Part of it is perhaps the urgency of now. Today, for example, a true urgency of sorting out the trash bag of miscellany that I emptied from the junk dresser before we set it in the alley. The laundry needed done, of course. The car needed vacuumed. And then, when I find myself sat across the blank screen and the blinking, what's it called? is this the cursor? (it is; aka "the text cursor" and "the insertion point), I want to run. I feel so much less poetic that I want to be, so much less full of wonder and curiosity than I used to be.

Now, whether I have ever possessed any sense of poeticism (or rather, whether or not I have felt that in the moment of writing), I cannot say, but now, sitting here, thirty-eight and a half years old (so old), I fear that I am pointless and unoriginal. I have already written of the wind swaying the fronds. I have written of the strangers that decorate innumerous coffee shops, even if I have never written about these specific ones: the white and gray haired couple sitting together with their drinks, the woman with bubblegum pink nails and a Mexican blanket draped around his shoulders, the man, with a white baseball cap and a denim-on-denim fit. The couple sitting at the table next to mine, chatting enthusiastically (well, at least, the man is, judging by his gesticulations, the way his hand weaves around his words like a conductor directing an symphony), the wavy haired mother and her child sitting together doing work together on their separate devices. No, I haven't specifically encountered these people, but there have been others, and what's the point of this description? and then I think, but I liked it. Not necessarily the sentences, but the process. I liked the way it felt to notice.

To notice the chaotic steam rising above the espresso machine. To see the little gap between their two front teeth. To witness the curve of the fluffy dog that just crossed the street. It feels alright to notice, and I know, technically, that's the only point that we can rely on. This particular moment that we occupy. To trust that in this moment, there is enough. To trust that I am noticing even when I am not capturing every single detail. There are too many to capture, even though that has never before stopped me from trying.

The last proper email that I exchanged with Scott, I told him about this project that I had started: everydayremember. It was a Tumblr, of course, and I just wanted a place to elevate, on the daily, the little things that I like to save. He told me that it was an insane project (or not exactly insane, but impossible). How could i capture everything? but it's like, of course it's not everything. It's just whatever we possibly can. He told me that just because he never could, I shouldn't give up. Incidentally, I did give up. At least, I gave up for a while. Maybe I'll find my way back to it again. Remembering little bits of things, because I want to, because I can, and because if I don't, I perish a little from not exercising my right to remember, to save, to hold, to cherish.

We don't do it for acclaim, but because it is how we find our breath. And when I say, we, I mean it. All of the me's that have been before, and the me's that I will become. We the collective "I" need this small act of remembrance, the holy witnessing. It feels proper to take a highlighter to the little bits, the people and places and words that we encounter, and to trace around the edges of them, and to say, there, then, that's how it seemed to be to me. That's how I heard it, that's how I saw it, that's how it was that one time that was.

In a couple hours, my child will be coming home to me. This weekend, we are driving out to Yucca Valley, and we are spending time (hopefully) with our dear friends. I would like to finish the laundry and I hoped that I would pack up a bit, and I will. There is still time. Today I didn't get to add to the story, but in another way, I guess I did. Somehow, all of this is entangled in it. Figuring out how to be thirty-eight when sometimes I long for being twenty-two.

/open up your heart/it's going to be alright/think of where you are/and how you got this far/you will keep growing

[themculibrary]

Fics Including Cassie Lang Masterlist

5 things Cassie Lang learned about Morgan Potts-Stark while babysitting. (ao3) - KingoftheUzbeks G, 1k

Summary: ...and one thing Morgan learned.

Beckoning from Beyond the Mirror (ao3) - ParanoidInPink G, 29k

Summary: It's Halloween night. Cassie Lang is getting ready for the evening when she's met with an apparition and tragedy strikes. She is the first of many to fall into a fatal, comatose-like state that doctors can't explain. Scott is desperate and turns to the only man he knows who could possibly cure the supernatural scourge. Little did he know of the adversary he'd soon have to face.

Cassie & Peter Being Buds (ao3) - whumphoarder G, 8k

Summary: The adventures of Peter babysitting 10-year-old Cassie Lang.

Cassie Lang and the Super Serum Best Friend Squad (ao3) - forzandopod, reena_jenkins steve/bucky T, 2k

Summary: So the thing is, when your dad can shrink to the size of an atom, and you have a dog sized ant as a family pet, and also your dad was on house arrest for 2 years because he tried to help his friends plus he saved the whole world and now is officially a superhero and Avenger, is that it's kinda hard to relate to other kids your age.

Or, Cassie Lang and the adventures of having two over a hundred year old super soldiers as best friends.

Cassie Lang: Matchmaker (ao3) - f_romanoff_13 scott/hope G, 3k

Summary: Cassie Lang was six years old when she notices her Dad has fallen in love...

Or, five times Cassie Lang played matchmaker. And one time Scott asked for her help.

Children, Bikes and Rainbows (ao3) - SilverMyfanwy G, 2k

Summary: In which Peter babysits Clint's kids and Cassie and ends up in fairy wings, Steve teaches him how to ride a motorbike and Nat takes him to Pride.

Every Inch, Every Scar (ao3) - ChangeTheCircumstances maggie/jimmy M, 52k

Summary: Trying to provide for is daughter, Scott Lang attempts to look for alternative forms of employment but with no college degree, a criminal record, and his longest running job being that of a prostitute, he's not getting anywhere. However, by pure chance, a new client soon changes his life and chances of being the father Cassie deserves.

Complications of course arise as Scott soon learns what his new connections mean for him and even those he loves.

How to Save Your Soon to Be Boyfriend and His Daughter From Scary Monsters (ao3) - DreamersEclipse scott/sam G, 3k

Summary: (Alternatively: How Your Daughter Incidentally Calls the Guy You’ve Been Pining For and He Shows Up)

During a weekend with her dad, Cassie and Scott watch a scary movie. She steals his phone and calls the one hero Avernger guy her dad is always going on about that could surely save them from the malicious shadows under the bed. Sam of course thinks they’re in real danger…so not awkward for Scott at all when he does show up in full gear.

let's stay together (ao3) - bevioletskies scott/hope, hank/janet T, 3k

Summary: For all his missteps and mishaps, Scott has been on pretty good terms with the Pym-Van Dyne family lately. That is, until Cassie started calling Hank "Grandpa".

Out Of The Sky, Into The Flow (ao3) - Dorasolo scott/hope M, 13k

Summary: Scott is about to promise Cassie the world, but Hope is still shaking her head and Luis is mouthing no, and with this A+ parenting team in his pocket, he chews his words thoughtfully instead.

Or, the Ant-Fam is having some post-Snap growing pains.

sometimes it can weigh a ton (ao3) - CallicoKitten scott/hope N/R, 2k

Summary: Anyway, the point is: Hope is awful with kids. Always has been, always will be and she's apparently picked the worst time ever to drop in on her not-boyfriend at his brand new Avenger-approved apartment.

-

in which hope ends up babysitting cassie and turns out to not be all that terrible at it

So you're thinking of defying the government (ao3) - defcontwo, Dorasolo scott/hope G, 6k

Summary: “Are you here because I sexually harassed you in 2012?" Cassie is friends with Captain America, Hope can do literally anything except cook, and Scott just wants to make sure everyone has enough enchiladas to eat.

Or: the one where Steve visits Cassie in San Francisco & shenanigans ensue.

The Heart of a Young Avenger (ao3) - revenger1223 scott/hope G, 4k

Summary: Cassie had grown up the child of divorced parents, and after spending years loving geniuses, she was confident she could put what she knew to the test. With the loss of Iron Man, Black Widow, and Captain America, Cassie realized the world needed others willing to take up the responsibilities they left behind. She was the daughter of Ant-Man, the as-good-as step-daughter of the Wasp, and the honorary grand-daughter of the pair that originally held the mantels.

Or, Cassie Lang is ready to step into the superhero role and she knows just the people she needs to get the job done, even if she has to trick them into it.

The Prince's Bride (ao3) - phoenix_173 darcy/johnny T, 18k

Summary: “Daddy, tell me a story!”

“Hmmm… A story, you say? A story? I know! I’ll tell you my favorite story.”

“Does it have action in it?”

“Of course, pumpkin. It’s packed full of action. Adventure. Pirates. Giants. Princes. Bad Men. Good Men. True love. Hate. Revenge. Beasts of all natures and descriptions. Sword fights. Chases. Escapes. Lies. Truths. Miracles.”

“Oh, Daddy. Just get on with it already!”

“Alright, alright!,” Scott grins down at Cassie. “Chapter One. The Bride.”

uncle sammy (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor G, 1k

Summary: “I asked you to babysit one time and now my child keeps asking when you will spend time with them again” AU

+ an innocent comment from a waitress kind of reveals a secret crush Scott has on Sam.

[helloalasdair]

In The Earth (2021), 28th May

Mum's house, Birmingham

107 minutes, dir. Ben Wheatley

Spoilers and interpretation of themes follows

Unlike Local Hero the day before, In The Earth has very much been on my radar for some time due to the on-screen presence of Reece Shearsmith.

Unlike Local Hero the day before, this was viewed at a terrible angle in my mum's sitting room.

Unlike Local Hero the day before, this screening was interrupted by cat/dog drama, cups of tea, and way too many questions like "Who was that? What was he doing? Why?" Some of those could be answered by, "I don't know, it's a horror, the mystery is unfolding," and some by "If you paid attention to the film rather than Candy Crush, maybe you'd have an idea."

Anyway.

Against all the odds, I enjoyed In The Earth a great deal. Solid cast - even though it was Reece Shearsmith's name that caught my eye, Joel Fry (or 'him out of Plebs' to my mum, and 'the guy from Our Flag Means Death' to me - remembering faces over names is genetic) is also really good in this.

Incidentally, I'm so glad I watched all the credits to see Cyriak credited with certain sequences. Definitely made sense in retrospect. The Clint Mansell soundtrack made me beam; it reminded me maybe of the original Suspiria but I'm not sure that's what I was thinking of. There's something about otherworldly synth music in the context of the forest that makes the familiar strange and threatening. Yes please.

So, it was made during the pandemic. The credits thank family and friends for maintaining their bubble and keeping safe. It's also set during a pandemic, but not the one that the audience lived through. It seems to have been more severe, or at least the accompanying lockdowns were more prolonged.

Spoilers beyond this point.

It then takes a turn into folk horror, which is interesting as the genre so often relies on the whole village coming together around the wicker man or what have you. In The Earth has a cast of five, which doesn't lend itself so much to that imagery, although now I think about it, maybe that's what the fungi were all up to.

Speaking of fungi: my mother, infuriatingly, said at the end "So it was all a big mushroom trip, was it?" And... I don't know, I felt the same way I feel when people dismiss art as the product of psychedelics, and it's not like I'm exactly mad about them (I've never taken any, even), but it feels wilfully reductive.

I thought the film had a lot more to say about how we search for patterns in things to try and make sense of our experiences. I don't know how much the film itself 'believes' in the supernatural explanation for what the characters experience; I felt like most of the phenomena could probably be attributed to natural causes, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that every one of those characters has undergone isolation (legally mandated, self-inflicted, and/or forced) and responds to this trauma by trying to make sense of what's happening around them. Which, yes, I suppose is a bit of a trip.

It's an insight into how superstitions and rituals form and are maintained. Wendell, the scientist, is ritualistic in her research, the results of which are beginning to sound implausible to say the least. Zack (Shearsmith) chooses to pursue art and sacrifice to serve the same ends. Everyone had their lockdown projects, I guess.

[earlgreytea68]

I just want to add to this, because I was just thinking about, that line in FOB’s Alpha Dog: We must make it hard to look so easy doing something so hard. I always think about that in terms of what Pete does with words, which incidentally is on display here. He makes it look so easy to do something very hard. But then there’s the extra part of the line -- “we make it *hard* to look easy doing it” -- which adds the layer of performativeness, the gloss of artificiality that the whole song is about: I make it look easy to do something so hard, but then I make *that* look hard, and that’s not real, that’s fake, but it’s fake in a real way, because it *is* hard, but also it’s an act I’m putting it on to make it harder. Like, the line is so convoluted it makes your head hurt about what’s easy and what’s hard and what’s fake and what’s not, and that’s the point of the line, and I love that it so nicely demonstrated exactly what he’s talking about. You think this is easy? Yeah, I make it look easy, don’t I? Boom.

ANYWAY, in terms of Taylor Swift, one last thought I always have when I listen to Taylor is that sometimes her songs about her happy relationship make it sound so...boring. And I do not think happy relationships are boring! I write so many endless happy relationships and I hope they’re not boring! But that bit in “Sweet Nothing,” a song I otherwise adore, when she’s like, “You say, ‘What a mind,’ I say, ‘It happens all the time,’“ I’m just like, ...........this is the conversation we’re preserving for posterity????? lolol ANYWAY, the reason I’m saying this is because if I ever get around to writing another story for Swan, Matt is going to spend all of his time worrying that now that he’s so happy in a settled way instead of the thrill of teenage first love kind of way, that his songs are going to be boring and nobody will be interested anymore.

Hello! You recently mentioned that you were listening to Taylor Swift’s new album quite a lot, and honestly, same ))) I wanted to know what songs are your fave, obvs, but also, which ones you find more interesting, captivating, clever? Which one got the best lyrics, which one best music and rhythm? Basically, what I’m trying to say, talk Midnights to me, please :)) P.S. I almost forgot to ask, if any of the songs got you thinking of fob?)

With pleasure!!

My favorite song on Midnights is Question...? and my favorite, like, passage of Midnights is Question...?, Vigilante Shit, and Bejewelled. I adore every single one of those songs and I think that's the strongest stretch of three songs on the whole album. I have seen some hate for Bejewelled and some of its lyrics make me cringe but also like it's totally what I would want to play as an anthem to perk myself up.

I actually love all the songs on the album, except for Labyrinth, which I find a bit dull, tbh, but that happens! But this album just *moves* and it's full of great refrains and the usual perfect bridges and sometimes I think Jack Antonoff gets to be a bit too self-indulgent of his quirks (I really hate the effect on the bridge of Question...?) but mostly I love when Jack Antonoff and Taylor Swift make music together and I appreciated that this album just felt...really fun and less earnest than evermore? I love folklore, but evermore just kind of felt like too much to me, and I'm happy to be going back to having more fun.

I've listened to Question...? the most, and I was just thinking as I was listening to it tonight that I feel like it's kind of crept in to influence my Christmasfic this year, like, its attitude full of "what if"s, and that line about "I just may like to have a conversation," like, all my characters about each other hahaha they're all longing for a conversation. Idk, the relationship in Question...? just feels so instantly complex and interesting to me, like, I want to know so much more about those two people.

Sweet Nothing is kind of a theme song for all of my characters, though, I feel like every fic I write is about a Sweet Nothing kind of love.

Mastermind is totally a Mattrick song from Swan Song. It doesn't sound like a song Matt would sing or write, but it's a song Matt would *think,* if that makes sense.

In general I really appreciated how this album was Taylor kind of accepting that you've got be a bit of a schemer to be a success, which is a theme of Swan Song, too, and so it resonated with me. I mean, Anti-Hero is also very Matt Usher: One day I'll watch as you're leaving 'cause you got tired of my scheming. I like to see Taylor owning "I'm smart and that's okay."

Okay, my favorite lyric on the whole album is: I'm the wind in our free-flowing sails and the liquor in our cocktails. ...Ugh, I just love that line.

I also love, also from Mastermind, "I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian because I care," ha, makes me laugh.

Mastermind is just so tropey, she just writes a trope song so well, that's just a full story, beginning to end, and when you're done you think, ...I've read that fic and it was GREAT, Idk. Her songs can sometimes feel like an entire ship, self-contained.

"Draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man," is, I think, a great opening line, even though I've seen some people hating on it. I think it's great! And I also enjoy "situation-ship" as a term in Glitch. And "no one sees you lose when you're playing solitaire" from Dear Reader.

In general I like the refrain of Karma and appreciate what she's doing there but "karma is a god" just always completely throws me, it's, like, all these metaphors of what karma is and it just feels like that one could also be personal to Taylor: her cat, her boyfriend, her beautiful weekends, her relaxing thoughts....a god. Idk, it bothers me every single time I hear it lol

Okay, so, Fall Out Boy-wise. Taylor Swift is on the record that Pete Wentz is basically her favorite lyricist of all time and that she's been influenced by him, and sometimes I feel like I can sense that influence. Sometimes she does something and I think, That's a total Pete Wentz move. And sometimes it works, but sometimes I think it just doesn't work, because actually what Pete Wentz does is incredibly hard and he makes it look like just anyone can stumble into all those perfect double and triple meanings but it's really, really hard to do. So, to be unkind, that "Get it off your chest, get it off my desk" in "Lavendar Haze" reminds me of a Pete Wentz move, to take an idiom with words in common and juxtapose them (like broken hearts and broken stallions that I just wrote about). But to me it doesn't work here, I don't get it, what are you getting off your desk, why are these two things going together? Is it that you're talking about her relationship and she doesn't want it on her desk? Idk, I just feel like the juxtaposition there doesn't really add anything. She does it again in The Great War: You drew up some good faith treaties, I drew curtains closed. I feel like that one is slightly more successful.

I also appreciate when a Taylor song picks up some Pete Wentz tropes, like in Maroon when she's like "laughing with my feet in your lap like you were my closest friend," or in "You're on Your Own, Kid," with "He's gonna notice me, it's okay, we're the best of friends," yeah, Pete Wentz also is always trying to figure out if someone is his lover or his best friend lol.

Also, "don't put me in the basement when I want the penthouse of your heart" could have been the name of one of Pete Wentz's LJ entries lolololol

And High Infidelity is such a Fall Out Boy title, Pete Wentz is kicking himself he didn't think of it first

Ironically my very least favorite lyrics on the album are from her collaboration with her other favorite lyricist of all time. I just find Snow on the Beach unbearable lyric-wise, it's just...too much? Like, trying too hard the whole way through? And then culminating in lines I absolutely hate: Your eyes are flying saucers from another planet, I'm all for you like Janet. I just cannot with those two lines. So, I've always had this great fantasy of what could come of a Pete Wentz / Taylor Swift team-up and then I heard Snow on the Beach and was like, ...Idk, never mind lol

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: Meng Yao uses his self-absorbed sociopath murderer-ness for the forces of good. (Am not anon, just also think it sounds interesting.)

It happened on the way to Langya.

Meng Yao was feeling quite good about how things had developed. After his father had cast him out, he had vowed to return and force the man to acknowledge him, to put himself in a position where everyone had ever sneered at him would be force to kiss his feet or die – everything after that had been further service to that goal.

He’d gone to Qinghe, because it was the only place that respected merit over blood; he’d found the most arrogant cultivators and allowed them to bully him, because he had learned that Nie Mingjue abhorred injustice among his own more than anything; he had cleared the battlefields and helped the commoners because Nie Mingjue had commented on it positively, suggesting correctly that it was the path to promotion, although becoming Nie Mingjue’s personal deputy had been a pleasant surprise. Rescuing Lan Xichen had been just as unexpected an accident, but a welcome one, and just as importantly, a useful one – it was easy enough to encourage the man to be the one to bring up the subject of Meng Yao returning to the Lanling Jin sect, and to arrange to be within earshot of Nie Mingjue when he did.

And now he had a letter of recommendation from Nie Mingjue himself sitting in his pouch.

Would that be enough for Jin Guangshan?

Meng Yao wasn’t sure. Nie Mingjue had let him see the letter – the usual sort of thing, from one sect leader to another, flattering him as possessing both excellent skills and virtuous conduct – and from everything he’d heard, Jin Guangshan would enjoy the feeling of snatching away a talent.

But would that be enough?

Would he need to do more? And if he did – how far would he need to go? Who would he need to crush beneath his feet to get to the top?

His thoughts were consumed by such worries, and he reached inside the pouch to pull out the so-precious recommendation letter, just to feel it – he often did it, a nervous tick that he couldn’t quite stop – and that’s why he didn’t see the rabbit darting across his feet.

He stumbled and fell, his fingers instinctively gripping the letter tight – and that’s when he noticed it.

There was a small bulge in the letter. Not much of one, just a little curve that shouldn’t be there.

At once Meng Yao dusted himself off, took himself off the main road and made himself a small fire near the stream; his mother had long ago taught him how to steam letters open in such a way that they could be closed again, seal intact and none the wiser. He hadn’t bothered before, since he’d already seen what the letter contained – or rather, he’d thought he knew what it contained.

He’d thought Nie Mingjue too straightforward to play any tricks. But, he supposed, one never really knew.

The letter unfurled itself in his hand: it was exactly the letter he had been shown, which was a relief, but hidden inside was another piece of paper, small and folded up – it would have fallen into the palm of whoever cracked the seal to open the letter. Jin Guangshan, presumably.

Meng Yao opened the additional letter.

The calligraphy was unmistakably Nie Mingjue’s, forceful and bold. The words –

We have never seen eye-to-eye, and I am aware that our alliance is only against the Wens. Despite this, I would ask that you overlook both our past enmity and the embarrassment you will undoubtedly feel at the prospect of accepting Meng Yao after what happened between you in the past. Underneath his calm demeanor, he is ruthless and vindictive, but he has chosen in spite of that to be a good man, deserving of your respect, as he has earned mine. Consider it as me owing you a favor.

It was a good thing Meng Yao was already sitting down.

He hadn’t – he’d thought Nie Mingjue hadn’t noticed. The man disregarded most things as unimportant, never caring about people being rude or disdainful whether of Meng Yao or of himself, had believed (absurdly) that good conduct alone would be enough to shut their wretched mouths, something Meng Yao had long ago learned was not true – he’d assumed Nie Mingjue was naïve, even willfully blind; he’d thought he’d pulled the wool over his eyes, hiding his hatred underneath his smiles and even temperament, tricking him into underestimating him as he had so many others before. Even Lan Xichen, who liked him and treated him well simply because he was a good person, didn’t know what Meng Yao was really like – would never know, as far as Meng Yao was concerned.

He hadn’t realized that Nie Mingjue saw him, understood that he was full of spite and bile and grudges, and thought that he’d – what? That he’d simply chosen otherwise?

Absurd.

Who would ever choose to be good, simply for the sake of being good? What practical benefits could anyone get from that?

…deserving of your respect, as he has earned mine. Consider it as me owing you a favor.

Meng Yao pressed the letter to his chest, which felt both hollow and full to overflowing at the same time; to think that Nie Mingjue, proud, defiant, unbending Nie Mingjue, Sect Leader of one of the Four Great Sects, the only one who was actually winning against the Wen sect – to think that he would humble himself to beg a favor from a man the whole world knew he despised as a craven fool.

To think he would do that for him.

…deserving of your respect, as he has earned mine.

It was such a stupid thing. Pointless, worthless! Could you eat respect, if you were hungry? Would respect keep you warm at night when you were freezing? If a sword were held to your throat, could respect block it?

When the laughter of your enemies filled your ears, could the respect of a single man let you ignore it? Did it really matter so much, to have someone see you as you truly were and to still decide you were worth something?

...yes. It seemed that it did.

Meng Yao, don’t be a fool. Your plans..!

Meng Yao carefully resealed the letter, making sure the seal was intact and it looked untouched; the small note, Nie Mingjue’s heartfelt plea on his behalf, did not go back inside of it. If Nie Mingjue ever asked – and he wouldn’t, since he hadn’t told Meng Yao about the extra note to begin with – Meng Yao could always say that it simply fell out without him noticing.

The letter went back into his pouch.

The note he tucked into his robes, placing it right over his heart.

The recommendation letter would be enough, or it wouldn’t; there was no need for Nie Mingjue to lose face in front of Jin Guangshan. Meng Yao had plenty of plans on what to do if simply being a talent wasn’t good enough for his father to recognize him – there was a war on, after all, and Nie Mingjue had never hidden anything from him.

No matter what happened, he had plans.

-

Meng Yao fantasized about murdering his supervisor on a near daily basis.

Had he once complained in his heart about the Nie sect cultivators, who did little more than enjoy the momentary pleasure of being superior to someone of finer birth? Who were brutish and stubborn to the point of hard-headedness? Who thought strength of arms was the beginning and end of the Dao?

He’d rather be a menial servant for the worst of the whole lot of them rather than have to put up with another minute of him.

Petty humiliations on a daily basis – berating him for things that weren’t his fault, calling him all sorts of names, giving him the worst tasks, allowing and even encouraging the other soldiers to play pranks on him. Beatings, if he dared protest, and even when he didn’t, just to make sure he didn’t ‘forget’ his place. Taking credit for all of Meng Yao’s ideas and hard work, so that there would be no way for him to make his way up here as he had back in Qinghe – to ensure that his father could safely forget about his existence, having done the bare minimum that the respect owed to another Sect Leader required.

He’d even said – about Meng Yao’s mother –

It wouldn’t be hard, either; easy enough to do, easy enough to cover it up, and no one would ever need to know. Meng Yao had poor cultivation, having started too late to ever catch up in terms of strength, and so he had to substitute for it: aiming for quantity instead of quality, learning all the techniques he could – with his brilliant memory, seeing once was the same as learning. He knew Wen techniques, and there were Wen swords all over the battlefield; he bent over and picked one up.

Killing his superior, who would not expect it, would be as easy as flipping over his hand, and his corpse would simply be counted as another casualty of battle. Another debt due to the Wen-dogs.

There was really no reason not to – he already had plans to desert, having realized by now that he would never be able to win Jin Guangshan’s attention through honest work; his goals required that he take a different path, a riskier one, but when had he not been willing to stake it all on one throw of the dice? He could assuage his own anger, get revenge, and leave this all behind him, the whole world unknowing.

Now was the perfect chance.

…deserving of your respect, as he has earned mine.

Meng Yao grimaced and threw down the sword.

Stupid: it clattered on the ground, and his superior heard it, and turned at once to scream at him, accusing him of all sorts of things – even incidentally true ones, like plotting to kill him (though he would have stabbed him from the front, not the back). As was usual, he pulled out his switch and began beating Meng Yao as he screamed, blows focused on his upper arms and chest and back where no one would see; Meng Yao would have to disrobe to show someone, and that would only lead to rumors. Bad enough that his superior claimed that he was making his way through the camp on his back; he wouldn’t let anyone else have any basis for saying the same.

Meng Yao gritted his teeth and bore with it. He’d be leaving soon enough –

There was the familiar sound of unsheathing.

So familiar, in fact, that Meng Yao’s mouth opened without his own volition, automatically saying, “Sect Leader Nie, please hold back – ”

In that first moment before he turned, he’d thought he’d mistaken one sheath for another, an old habit – a memory of better times, even – because of course it couldn’t be true, there was no way for Nie MIngjue to be here, but despite all common sense he heard that familiar voice roar, “I will not!”

There was, Meng Yao reflected, a certain joy in all those thoughts of murdering his superior, a warm glow at the thought of getting the revenge he deserved by making the man pay in blood.

Watching Nie Mingjue thoroughly beat the man for having dared lay a hand on him?

Even better.

“Sect Leader Nie, perhaps you should stop,” he finally said after a while. “He is after all the lieutenant of another sect.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m using the flat of my blade,” Nie Mingjue said, and Meng Yao had to bite his lips to keep from laughing.

“I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with Sect Leader Jin,” he said, and that much he actually meant.

“I’m here to save him at his own request, he wouldn’t have the face to shame me,” Nie Mingjue said dismissively, but he did – somewhat reluctantly – stop, and allowed Meng Yao’s superior to go running; if Meng Yao hadn’t already planned to leave, he might have been concerned regarding who the man would complain to. “Meng Yao, why does your – why does Sect Leader Jin claim he doesn’t know who you are?”

Meng Yao opened his mouth, eyes flickering as he wondered what he could say that would save face all around and avoid starting a fight between Nie Mingjue, who he liked, and his father, who he still needed to one day acknowledge him – it would be a tricky tightrope.

One he never had to walk.

Nie Mingjue held up a hand, looking annoyed. “If you’re going to lie, just tell me you don’t know.”

“…I don’t know,” Meng Yao said obediently. His father preferred to pretend he didn’t exist, even though he owed Nie Mingjue more than that; admitting that, however, would be causing unnecessary trouble.

Nie Mingjue scowled. “You’re welcome to come back, if you find yourself unfulfilled here. The man I replaced you with is a – well. He’s not up to your standard.”

Meng Yao smiled. “I appreciate the offer, Sect Leader Nie, but – there’s another way, I think, to win enough merit to make my father have no choice but to see me.”

He surveyed Nie Mingjue’s expression, wondering if he would at last find disdain – but no, the man merely nodded, as if planning to force one’s own father into submission was an entirely reasonable, justified, and righteous path. Perhaps it was, if the father in question was Jin Guangshan.

“I have been studying the Wen sect’s techniques,” Meng Yao said. “I believe I can infiltrate their forces.”

Nie Mingjue frowned. “You held the sword well enough to pass for a Wen,” he said, and Meng Yao hadn’t realized he’d arrived early enough to see that. “But it won’t last for very long.”

“I wouldn’t need it to,” Meng Yao explained. “My father has mistreated me, and everyone knows it – it wouldn’t be so hard to claim that I was defecting because I had had enough. Wen Ruohan would enjoy having one of his enemy’s sons as a servant.”

He’d accumulated a month’s worth of bruises on his back for that very reason.

Nie Mingjue’s frown deepened. “You don’t need to do this.”

“It will help us win,” Meng Yao countered. “You know my skills, Sect Leader Nie; my memory is excellent and I’m not very noticeable – I can find plans, maps, instructions; I will find ways to send them on to the forces on our sides. You don’t have a single spy as good as I can be. Think of all the battles we can win – the lives we’ll save! Cultivators and common people both!”

“And it will win you the merit you need.”

Meng Yao nodded. That was the main point, of course; the rest was all just talk.

Nie Mingjue’s jaw worked as he thought it over. Schemes and deception were not his forte; he had spies, as did all the other Sect Leaders, and shared information with them freely, but it had never been the way he liked to do things.

Meng Yao’s heart was in his mouth as he waited for Nie Mingjue’s judgment. If it were anyone else, he would have just thanked him and bid him goodbye without sharing his plans; but Nie Mingjue had gone to Jin Guangshan and asked about him, without prompting, entirely unbidden – he would make a fuss if Meng Yao just disappeared. Better to tell him.

Better to gamble on respect.

“…Wen Ruohan would enjoy having one of Sect Leader Jin’s blood in his ranks,” Nie Mingjue finally said, the words coming out slow and reluctant. “But not as much as he would enjoy having my deputy.”

Meng Yao’s eyes curved into crescents at this unexpected delight. “Sect Leader Nie, are you proposing that we have a fight?”

-

Life as Jin Guangyao was about what Meng Yao had expected it to be. Nasty, mean, vicious, underhanded…Madame Jin treated him worse than a servant; Jin Guangshan, now officially Father, gave him things to organize and slave over, and expected him to thank him for the gift; Jin Zixuan mostly looked endlessly uncomfortable about everything, but he’d clearly learned long ago how to keep his mouth shut.

It wasn’t all that different from life inside the Wen sect, Meng Yao reflected. At Wen Ruohan’s side, he’d gotten to torture people and found that he had the skills for it, although not the taste: it felt good to make his enemies scream, as good as he’d always thought it would be, but in the end it wasn’t quite as good as the feeling of Nie Mingjue trusting him enough to let him set the stage for his dramatic desertion.

It certainly wasn’t anywhere as good as the moment in the Sun-Scorching Palace when Nie Mingjue’s eyes filled with relief at the realization that Meng Yao hadn’t betrayed him after all, allowing himself to finally let that too-stiff back of his bend in the hands of Meng Yao and Lan Xichen, who had come at his word without so much as a question.

And that meant, irritatingly enough, that if Meng Yao wanted more of that good feeling, he was going to have to – to do that.

To be a good person.

To make the choices a good person would make, even if it was purely transactional on his part. Good deeds would get him praise and respect from the men he respected most, both of whom were now his sworn brothers; they might not get him anything more substantive than that, but – whatever.

He was good enough to find a way to get what he wanted even with being held back by stupid rules.

Most recently, he’d presented plans for lookout towers to Jin Guangshan, careful to do it in public so that no one could claim credit for the idea; his father wasn’t that interested, but it was enough to win him some merit among those watching, especially those small sects that usually had to deal with the more remote areas. Of course, plenty of people claimed it was a scheme for Lanling Jin to obtain personal benefits, but ironically enough Jin Guangshan’s disinterest did a great deal to reassure them.

No matter. He would make it work, given time.

Not that he had much time.

Jin Guangshan had him running around like a dog more often than not – organizing sect events, banquets and other things, writing correspondence, all the tasks of a deputy and none of the benefits. He even demanded that Meng Yao help him arrange his – entertainment.

Meng Yao’s lip curled.

If he weren’t so devoted to being a good person, he would have used the opportunity to ingratiate himself with his father – to try to earn his favor, or at least learn his secrets so as to use them later. But no. He had to be good.

There was more than one way to be good.

He didn’t wait for Madame Jin to find out about the new work he’d been assigned, as she undoubtedly would – Jin Guangshan was not subtle – but instead went to find her directly, throwing himself down at her feet. “Madame, I have wronged you,” he said, his forehead touching the ground. “Please select an appropriate punishment.”

She looked somewhat taken aback by it. “What are you talking about?”

He didn’t say anything.

She frowned and gestured for one of her maids; the girl came back soon and whispered in her ear. Madame Jin scowled. “And you helped him?”

“He is my father,” Meng Yao said, not looking up.

She huffed, clearly irritated, and seemed about to start scolding, but then she gave a thoughtful hum instead.

Face hidden by the floor, Meng Yao smiled.

“You came here,” she said thoughtfully. “He’s your father – but you came here. You disapprove?”

He didn’t say anything. It’d be easier for him if she put together the pieces herself: he’d certainly been dropping hints hard enough, these past few weeks.

“Of course you would,” she continued, and yes, there it was, there she was, going down the path he wanted her to go down. “Your mother…you never stay late at the banquets where there are entertainers, or else you’re always in the kitchen, in the back, helping work on something. You never indulge yourself – I’d wager you despise them all, don’t you? Filial child…and it wasn’t as though your mother could say no, working where she did.”

His mother, when Jin Guangshan had visited her, had been a famous talent – she’d been educated, conversant in books and excelling in music. She still had her pick of clients, back then, though she’d been getting older, over twenty; she’d placed her hope on Jin Guangshan, deciding to bear his child.

Her hope had been misplaced.

“Still, it’s intolerable – for all that you’re a bastard, you’re still his blood; it’s a disgrace on the Sect’s name to be treating you like his personal procurer!”

“Madame Jin, please punish me,” Meng Yao said. “He will undoubtedly ask again; how can I say no? It’s not as though I have your power to find and punish him.”

“But you do,” she said, eyes bright as she leaned forward. “You were a spy once, weren’t you? I heard you talking about it just the other day, how you sent reports back to our side – whenever he asks this of you again, send me word at once. I will interfere, and it won’t be your fault at all.”

Good, very good. But not quite enough –

“But Madame!” he protested. “He will surely guess –”

“I’m not so foolish as to reveal it,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Though it would be better to make it rare…how about this? I’ll assign you to accompany A-Xuan. The old man wouldn’t dare ask you to do such filthy things when my A-Xuan is around!”

Perfect.

“You’re too kind, Madame Jin,” he said. He didn’t much like procuring whores for his father, that much was true, but it wasn’t what he was trying to avoid: no, what he wanted to avoid was his father’s laboratories, devoted to figuring out the Yiling Patriarch’s methods of demonic cultivation – to steal the man’s power for himself.

That, too, was something Jin Guangshan wouldn’t dare to involve him in if Jin Zixuan was around.

Though – speaking of that, he really needed to resolve the issue with Wei Wuxian. It had been rather a big fuss after he’d stolen away the Wen sect remnants; his father was campaigning to pressure the Jiang sect to eject him or else take responsibility. The other sects were watching.

Something would have to be done.

What would a good person do?

Meng Yao honestly had no idea. Perhaps this was something he could consult Lan Xichen for.

-

Meng Yao had always known that listening was the best way to get someone to talk. A face that didn’t seem to judge, a tilt of the head that suggested attention – his mother had shown him all the tricks to manipulate people.

He just hadn’t realized there were so many people willing to sign up to get manipulated.

“Perhaps it would be better if you told him,” he told Wei Wuxian gently. With Madame Jin’s help, he’d started taking regular trips away from Koi Tower; one of them had been to volunteer to accompany Lan Wangji on one of his trips to the Burial Mounds, as a favor to Lan Xichen, and this time, he’d stayed behind to have a little chat.

His father had approved the trip on the basis that he was supposed to get information from Wei Wuxian – and he was, just not the sort his father wanted.

“You don’t even know what it is,” Wei Wuxian insisted, twisting his sleeve in his hands anxiously. “It’d break his heart –”

“And your distance isn’t? Think about how he’d feel if he found at later that you were keeping a secret from him, a reason to explain everything…that’d be worse, wouldn’t it?”

“Why would he need to find out at all?”

“Because of you, of course. As long as you live, it will be his fault if something happens to you.”

Wei Wuxian’s fingers tensed. “His fault?”

“Naturally. Why are so many people willing to crusade against you? Shouting support no matter if they were involved or not, condemning you in vast numbers? It’s because he’s not on good terms with you, because his attitude never showed that your bond was too strong to be broken. In the end, even if the distance between you was because of your secret, don’t you think he’ll blame himself for all that happened to you?”

Wei Wuxian looked stricken.

“Whatever it is, you should tell him,” Meng Yao coaxed. “I’ve spoken with Sect Leader Jiang, you know –”

Only briefly, but if this scheme worked, he’d insist on having several talks like this. The man’s mind was a gigantic mess, and it would do him good to have someone help him put it back in order.

That’s what a good man would do.

That the shape of that order would also accrue to Meng Yao’s benefit – a pleasant side effect.

“– His words are harsh, but his confusion and pain are evident. He’s suffering every day, rebuilding that sect of his, all alone…”

Wei Wuxian jumped up. “Don’t you think I want to be there to help him?” he demanded. “But I can’t just abandon the Wens, either!”

Meng Yao opened his eyes wide. “Is that the choice?”

Wei Wuxian turned to him, his eyes narrowing – a little dangerous, but then, Meng Yao had played Wen Ruohan between his fingers. What was one Yiling Patriarch in comparison?

“Lianfeng-zun,” he said. “What are you saying? There’s another choice?”

“I couldn’t possibly say,” Meng Yao said. “My first loyalty is to my father. I’m sure you understand.”

“Your father,” Wei Wuxian mused. “Your father…his was the first voice to condemn me. And yet he’s always sniffing around my heels, demanding that I hand over my Stygian Tiger Seal…he’s not just scared of my power, is he? He wants it specifically. He wants – what does he want?”

“I couldn’t possibly say,” Meng Yao said.

“But there is something.”

Meng Yao shrugged, indicating his helplessness. “I owe my father filial loyalty,” he reminded Wei Wuxian. “But I also have a duty to the world – it’s very difficult to walk the line between one’s family and one’s conscience.”

Meng Yao didn’t actually have a conscience, but he’d heard things.

Wei Wuxian grabbed his hands. “Lianfeng-zun, I owe you for this,” he said, very seriously. “Thank you.”

And then he rushed out the door – probably headed to the Lotus Pier first, and then to Koi Tower. There were all sorts of clues left out for him to find.

The scandal when his father’s little experiments in demonic cultivation were discovered would either bring down Jin Guangshan or rehabilitate Wei Wuxian – maybe even both, and just in time for Jin Zixuan’s wedding.

Meng Yao got up with a stretch.

It was really surprisingly nice being a good person.

-

Meng Yao had always thought he would need to be at the top to be happy – that it would always boil his blood to see Jin Zixuan placed above him, through nothing more but an accident of birth.

More recently, though, he’d been rethinking his position.

“Sorry, Sect Leader,” he said, face fill of smiles – sincere, for once. “That information’s confidential. I couldn’t possibly betray your confidence by taking a look at it.”

Jin Zixuan’s glare was distinctly weakened by the giant circles under his eyes: he looked like a sleepy panda. “I know for a fact that you helped Sect Leader Nie with this sort of thing.”

Meng Yao put his hands over his heart. “I wasn’t yet aware –”

“A-Yao! Please! I don’t even care what you do with it!”

Meng Yao finally broke and laughed. “I can’t do it,” he said, and Jin Zixuan almost whined like a sad dog, “because I already did it yesterday. You just need to sign these papers and then you can go get some sleep before your baby wakes up.”

“Is there some promotion I can give you?” Jin Zixuan wondered, looking deeply relieved and already half asleep.

“I’m already your second-in-command, and I more or less run Koi Tower,” Meng Yao said. “The only thing I don’t need to do is get yelled at by people who are unhappy with my decisions, which is your job.”

“Why do I somehow feel like I got the short end of the stick?”

“No idea,” Meng Yao said blithely. “It’s your inheritance, after all.”

Their father had been dead for four months – sadly, the whole mess with demonic cultivation hadn’t done the trick, though it had effectively rehabilitated Wei Wuxian’s reputation; once he’d been cast into the same bucket as the Yiling Patriarch, it had been in Jin Guangshan’s best interest to make the entire cultivation world accept demonic cultivation as a valid, if dangerous, cultivation path.

Meng Yao had had to take other measures.

It couldn’t really be considered patricide: he’d been so understandably distraught to find out what his father had done to poor Madam Qin, and what that meant about Qin Su, all coming out right before he’d been prepared to marry her – any good person would have done as he’d done and told Qin Cangye.

It was a good thing that he hadn’t followed his initial instincts to bed Qin Su before the marriage. He’d considered it, since a pregnancy would make it impossible for Qin Cangye, that old stiff-neck, to back out at the last minute, but he’d reminded himself that a good person wouldn’t do it that way.

A good person would go to his two sworn brothers and look sad about the whole dilemma until Lan Xichen, at least, was fooled into going to offer an encouraging word.

Nie Mingjue thought Meng Yao was being especially full of shit and claimed that he would never get involved in any romantic matters whatsoever. His later invitation for Sect Leader Qin to go night-hunting with him shortly thereafter, a casual demonstration of the power behind Meng Yao, had nevertheless helped just as much than Lan Xichen’s friendly chat – the carrot and the stick.

In the end, of course, it all came to nothing marriage-wise, but it’d gotten his father out of the way, under such circumstances that made Meng Yao look good, Jin Guangshan look wretched, and put Qin Cangye deep into Meng Yao’s debt – and even got him several months of pampering by two very apologetic and sympathetic sworn brothers.

An even better result than the marriage, however sweet Qin Su had been.

Since then, he’d finally had the chance to do what he wanted, especially given how busy Jin Zixuan was busy with his new son, who had colic, and his troublesome brothers-in-law that were always visiting.

Jiang Cheng had in fact greatly benefited from his chats with Meng Yao – he’d had a lot of problems, as Meng Yao had suspected, starting with his childhood and continuing through some fairly staggeringly bad parenting choices on the part of the last generation of Jiangs, and it did him a great deal of good to have a comforting ear that could manipulate his emotions to a more even keel. His relationship with Wei Wuxian was slowly being repaired, though the latter’s new relationship with Hanguang-Jun was causing some bumps in the road, reawakening those tender feelings of jealousy and possessiveness and fear that he was once again losing his best friend.

(Lan Xichen, in contrast, had been thrilled. Apparently he’d known for years and hadn’t once let on to anyone. And something about – loquats? For once in his life, Meng Yao didn’t want to know.)

Actually, Meng Yao was more proud of the stroke of brilliance he’d had in sending Su She to be Jiang Cheng’s escort for a season – Su She had always wanted respect more than anything else, hating any and all people of higher status (most of the world, unfortunately), but being forced to listen to Jiang Cheng’s entire mess for several months was enough to make even him feel bad, no matter the difference between their positions.

He’d even finally agreed to remove the curse from Jin Zixun.

No, it was all working out very well: he had all four of the leaders of the Great Sects and the Yiling Patriarch supporting him, he could dump all the parts of being in charge that he didn’t like on Jin Zixuan’s lap, and anyone who even thought about calling him the son of a prostitute would very quickly find themselves rethinking it at the end of little Xue Chengmei’s knife or Mo Xuanyu’s teary eyes, depending on which approach they thought would be more effective.

Now that was an unlikely pair to have adopted each other as brothers: Xue Yang had been the most talented demonic cultivator in Jin Guangshan’s little nest, a twelve-year-old delinquent from Kuizhou (Wei Wuxian had thrown a fit), and Mo Xuanyu was the emotionally unstable, cowardly cutsleeve son that Jin Guangshan had brought back specifically to irritate Meng Yao. Meng Yao had deliberately forced them to share a room in the hopes that they would balance each other out, and it had worked surprisingly well.

Of course, Meng Yao still had no idea what to do with either of them, especially ever since they’d developed crushes on two travelling cultivators – apparently Xue Yang was also a cutsleeve, just much less obvious about it – but he supposed it didn’t really matter. He’d figure it out.

Eventually.

He had time - time and good company, now that the Song of Clarity was helping calm Nie Mingjue’s endless temper. Lan Xichen had promised to teach it to Meng Yao as well, so that they could play it for Nie Mingjue together, and then switch out - Meng Yao had suggested that Nie Huaisang learn it as well, both to help calm his older brother and to ensure that he would be able to calm himself in the inevitable future when his own cultivation got to be too much for him.

In the end, it seemed respect was something you could live on after all.

[geeoharee]

And now in ‘DVDs someone got for Christmas so we watched it while we were round at their house’, ‘Cruella’ is a fucking weird film

Like OK, you think it’s starting out with “she’s a misunderstood misfit child!” and ripping off Wicked, which is justifiable cos Wicked is great. Then there are, I cannot stress this enough, killer CGI dalmatians. There are three of them. They are owned by an evil rich woman and they kill Cruella’s mother. Cruella runs off to be an orphan thief in London (source of ripoff material changes to Oliver Twist, bad child acting abounds) and is taken in by Jasper and Horace (I had to check: yes, these are the henchmen from the movie, guess that reads)

So then there’s like twenty minutes where it’s a fun heist film and they use a trained chihuahua called Wink to steal jewels from rich people and stuff. But Cruella’s dream is to be a fashion designer, so Jasper gets her a job working for the evil rich woman who is the best fashion designer. (Yes, we’re now doing Devil Wears Prada. Just watch Devil Wears Prada instead, it’s fucking great and this film is not even an adequate ripoff of it)

Theeen something ... I forget ... Oh yeah, she finds out the evil rich woman (played by Emma Thompson, incidentally, who is at least having fun) killed her mother with the killer CGI dalmatians and did I mention a little fluffy dog has been Cruella’s only friend this whole time? It’s one dog when she’s a kid and a different one when she’s Emma Stone, obviously.

So she decides to become a rival fashion designer but in secret (apparently this whole sequence with the punk stuff and the vandalism is ripping off Joker, which I’ve not seen, but also had the same plot about ‘...but actually he’s your real dad’. Oh did I not mention? We find out later that Emma Thompson is her mother.)

And there’s this whole thing with an amulet which contains the secret knowledge that Emma Thompson is her mother, and she tries to steal it, but the dalmatian eats it, so then she kidnaps the dalmatians for a bit, here are where the jokes about sifting through dogshit go. And Emma Thompson’s evil sidekick (Mark Strong) defects, for reasons I don’t really understand. And it ends up with a big confrontation where Emma Thompson is tricked into admitting she killed Cruella’s adoptive mother in front of a load of people, so then she goes to prison, and Cruella gets all her stuff (? not sure that’s how that works)

Oh also the killer CGI dalmatians defect at this point and apparently there’s a post-credits scene where one of them has puppies and Cruella sends puppies to Roger and Anita? (Anita is her childhood friend in this one and Roger works for the fashion house) Because Cruella is psychic and knows this will kick off the plot of the animated film? I guess?!

I dunno. I just feel that if you present a film as a prequel which sets up why Cruella de Vil wants to murder a load of puppies, she should, at some point, express the desire to murder a load of puppies. There’s a fake-out where you think she turned the killer dalmatians into a coat, but she didn’t. That’s exclusively to get a picture of her in the coat they could put on the poster. It’s just very unsatisfying.

Did they just have too many people on the team? Did the ‘she’s traumatised by a dalmatian attack’ guy not meet the ‘we’re doing Wicked now’ guy? Had any of them actually SEEN ‘101 Dalmatians’? Will Disney ever stop lying about the queer content of their films? (His name’s Artie, he runs a vintage shop and helps Cruella out a couple of times, he could plausibly be a very androgynous straight man and can be effortlessly cut for the Chinese market.)

We all KNEW what Cruella’s deal was. ‘See My Vest’ is a better explanation of her motives than this film. And now I want to rewatch Devil Wears Prada.

[aahsokaatano]

a pizza in the US is both an every day occurrence and An Event and these things are both contradictory and Not

first of all, yes. Pizzas are usually Multiple Person affairs. It is generally estimated that each person in the group will have 2 slices, so group size determines pizza size and how many pizzas are ordered. BUT! This only applies to the traditional triangle slices! Because some places do SQUARE slices instead, and then each person may have 4 or 5 slices, not counting the itty bitty corner triangles because yes they are doing a grid-like cut on a round pizza. I don’t understand it either.

you CAN get “personal” pizzas that are meant for 1 person but honestly even those are sometimes 2 meals for me

Pizza is a Special Treat when you are at work or school but also I know of multiple people, myself included, who had a diet that was 80% (or more!) pizza for at least one year of university because it’s also just??? really cheap???? and it’s good hot AND cold and it’s a palatable and easy way to get some veggies for a lot of people - yeah just. just throw some green peppers on there. it’s fine. can’t taste it over the sausage chunks anyways and now when mom asks if i’ve eaten any greens i can say yes without lying. the only school dorm i ever lived in that didn’t smell like pizza every single night was the international student hall i stayed in during my study abroad in England.

some people have EXTREMELY strong opinions about pizza, especially the crust. these people are usually from areas that the various crust types are named after, such as Chicago and New York and Detroit. these people are generally tiresome.

if you like cold pizza then you have Opinions on which brands are best cold. I will die on the Domino’s hill and nothing anyone can say will stop me. I know it’s not the best overall. I don’t care.

god there’s just. such a weird culture around pizza in the US honestly. it’s a currency. it’s a point of contention. it’s a bonding activity. it’s super mundane. it’s really special. it’s a staple food. it’s overdone. every podunk little town i’ve ever been to in the US has A Pizza Place. when I lived on a literal island that had no clothing stores and only one grocery outlet there was still three separate pizza places. And I don’t mean restaurants that also offered pizza - i mean dedicated pizza joints that sometimes also offered a limited selection of pasta and/or sandwiches. I need to make this division clear because if i include places that incidentally had pizza on the menu that number jumps to ten. and we still made our own pizza at home sometimes.

it absolutely blows my mind when i think about this and remember that my grandfather was in his twenties before pizza spread far enough out of New York to reach our little NE Ohio hometown. Like pizza has only really been widespread across the US for 60, 70 years? And it’s up there with hamburgers, hot dogs, and apple pie as Quintessentially American Foodstuffs now.

unexpected ameripicking problem on this fic chapter: you guys have GIANT pizzas??

[marvelousmatt]

Steven Toast: ‘My dream role would be the lead in any of Shakespeare’s Henrys’

FEATURES

JAN 28, 2022

BY TIM BANO

From growing up in the tallest castle in the world, to becoming Britain’s finest actor in high-winds and now crossing the pond to appear in the next Star Wars movie, actor Steven Toast tells Tim Bano about moments that have made up his theatre career

When Shakespeare’s Globe burned down seven years ago after an infamous all-dog production of Twelfth Night, as chronicled in the TV show Toast, fingers were pointed towards a certain actor, and many thought it would be curtains for the career of Steven Toast (Editor’s note: The Stage is legally obliged to state that Toast’s involvement in the arson was never proven).

But with a recent move to Hollywood and a rumoured role in the latest Star Wars film, Force the Wind, it looks like we will be raising a glass to Toast once more.

The mercurial actor, recently called “a talentless prat” by Greta Thunberg on account of his climate scepticism, may not rank highly among other actors of his generation. He will not be remembered for as long as more charismatic peers such as  Ray Purchase. But he is certainly an actor, by some definitions.

Born into a rich naval family, Toast grew up in the tallest castle in the world. His father, Colonel Gonville Toast, never approved of his son’s decision to become an actor and always told people he was dead. Despite the adversity he faced as a child, Toast managed to forge a career on the boards and in our ears, known as much for his performances in the West End as his voice work, including an unusual audiobook of the Bible. Steven Toast and Axel Jacklin (Britain’s previous best high-winds actor)

Steven Toast and Axel Jacklin (Britain’s previous best high-winds actor)

Why did you want to become an actor? Where did that interest in the world of theatre begin?

My father, as you may or may not know, was quite high up in the Royal Navy, which meant my brother Blair and I were stationed at various locations all over the world throughout our childhood. While staying in Calcutta, I remember my father taking us to the local market square to watch the thieves being flogged. I remember being struck by the sheer drama of the spectacle and noticed how everybody couldn’t take their eyes off the flog man. I knew there and then that I wanted to be involved in that kind of thing, or something similar.

You seem to come from quite a privileged background. Has that helped you in your career?

Not in the least. If anything, it’s hindered my efforts to be taken seriously as an actor. The profession has always been largely made up of left-wing, almost communist, types who don’t take kindly to one having access to money. What they don’t realise is that if it’s obvious one has money, then one really does not, for those with serious money hide it so not to be killed. They also can’t deal with the fact that both my father and brother have taken part, and sometimes led, every major battle/war since the Second World War.

Have you ever won any awards?  

No. But I have been nominated, and have also appeared on a nomination long list, as I believe it’s called.

Why did you choose RADA for your training? What was your time there like?

I chose RADA at a time when it was not fashionable. I was studying during a summer of love, when learning your craft was considered ‘square’ by other young actors – all of whom incidentally are now working in hotels or programming dire displays of turgid ‘entertainment’ somewhere outside a large town.

You are renowned as one of Britain’s finest exponents of acting in high winds. How did you train for this?

Thank you. I practised by standing/rehearsing in very high-winds situations, usually at the end of a pier, while managing to concentrate on my dialogue, posture and predicament.

Toast’s rival Ray Purchase, agent Jane Plough and housemate Ed Howzer-Black

Which actors do you most – and least – admire?

All of the actors I admire are long dead. People I doubt you would have heard of such as Wilkie Goodprize, Abbott Pooneye and, not forgetting, Mal Focus.

Which is your favourite theatre to act in and why?

Possibly Wyndham’s, due to its steep auditorium. It’s good to see everyone’s faces. Unless of course you’re in a stinker, which I was a few years ago at the Trafalgar Studios where I could see every couple in the audience look at each other making that cut-throat gesture signifying a decision not to return for Act II. Literally soul destroying.

What would be your dream role on stage?

It sounds obvious and not particularly interesting but the lead in any of Shakespeare’s Henrys. That, or the part of the author in a stage adaptation of the film Misery (not really).

Why did you decide to move to the US? What’s it like finding work over there? Is it an advantage being a classically trained British actor?

An advantage? Not a bit. I’ve only just got here and to be honest it’s not been easy so far. I’ve been exposed to some very off-colour, some might say bizarre, situations. It’s not (as yet) proved to be the Tinseltown I’d imagined.

Do you have any superstitions or rituals?

Many, but not any I would share in The Stage due to the certain ridicule I would receive on any forthcoming job.

You once lost £20,000 to Andrew Lloyd Webber in a celebrity poker game. When, how and why?

It’s all been well documented and I’ve no wish to bring any of that up again due to the heavy-handed litigation practices Lloyd Webber employs, nor do I wish to give the man a second more of free publicity.

Matt Berry plays Steven Toast in Toast of Tinseltown on BBC Two and iPlayer