#the fiddle faddle

[fiddlefaddlecomic]

NOT DEAD

HI IT'S BEEN A MONTH AND A BIT MANY THINGS CONTINUE TO HAPPEN ALL THE TIME I AM ALIVE MORE FIDDLE TO BE FADDLED, SOON STAY TUNED

[mysticaltastemakerwitch]

Michael Sheen on stage... 🎭

[eclipsecrowned]

very normal rn! not about to answer asks to keep from having to point out sb missing the entire point of a character arc to somehow claim that a canon fact didn't actually happen! being so neurotypcal and normal about my spin and it does not hurt :)

[mcgruffthecrimedog]

A video game where the final boss is a box of fiddle faddle

[tasiaadams33]

The Rug Hooking Club Food Of The Day Is A Fiddle Faddle Caramel Popcorn With Peanuts. Great Snack. From Dollar Tree.

[sbnkalny]

What is in the northeast section of Morioh, where all the villas are, and I am abstinence until I DIE!

[bookdragonwrites]

There is also the cracked mirror brooch he wears.

I cannot be the first person to point this out, but I never quite processed until now just how much the "cracks" spreading out from Luna's Mark on Vanitas resemble Altus's sky.

We know the spreading cracks from Luna's Mark are related to how Vanitas is being rewritten, and we know that Altus's existence traces back to the rewriting of the World Formula during the Babel incident, so it seems like this cracking effect is caused by Formula alterations. But in what context? We see lots of formula rewriting in this series, including some pretty massive revisions in Gévaudan, and I can't find or recall any other instance of reality cracking into spiderwebs like this.

Vanitas's Mark contains the power of The Vampire of the Blue Moon, and Altus's cracks center on its moon, so maybe that has something to do with it? Or perhaps it's a sign of a rewriting's instability, since from what we see with Misha, becoming "something else" as a result of the Mark is not a good or stable state of being for the blue moon boys.

In any case, there's no real way to know what's up with this right now, but this connection has been haunting me since I finally caught it this week.

[lancerslover]

a brief glimpse into senator kennedy’s office…

pairing: senator!john f. kennedy/reader

warnings: 18+, pretty much immediate smut, swearing

word count: 995

a/n: this is just a quick random drabble while i finish the bobby and jack fic. it literally came to me in a dream. i guess it’s kinda based on the stories about jfk’s two secretaries “fiddle” and “faddle.”

thank you to the anon who suggested i start doing drabbles!! i’m going to start doing these more often between my longer fics

When you walk into Senator Kennedy’s office, he’s on the sofa, his suit jacket strung over the back and his tie loose around his neck. Next to him is your coworker Jane, wearing nothing but her underwear, holding an unlit cigarette between her fingers and trying her best to grab a lighter back from the senator while he playfully holds it out of her reach.

“Hi,” you say, placing a pile of letters on the senator’s desk. Handling, sorting, and delivering the letters from his constituents takes up most of your time since he receives around 800 letters every day, almost twice as much as any other senator in the building. A large portion of these letters are from women, a fact Mr. Kennedy sometimes likes to jokingly boast about to his senator buddies, especially when the content of said letters involves a woman gushing over how “fantastic” he is or asking him to come over while her husband’s at work the next time he’s in Boston.

“Hey, hun,” Jane says back.

You two don’t have time to say anything more because the senator is grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward him, looking up at you with that lazy, toothy grin. The grin of someone who’s used to getting whatever he wants without even having to ask.

In a flash, you’re in his lap. He’s talking against your cheek: “God, sweetheart, what took you so long, huh? I missed you when I got in today. I’ll tell Ted to stop sending you out on those assignments. You’re much more useful here with me.” You know he’s just telling you what he thinks you want to hear, but still, your heart is singing.

He tears the straps of your dress down around your shoulders and tosses your bra aside while you fit yourself onto his cock. You wince. You’re still a little sore from yesterday.

But you forget about that the moment he starts thrusting up into you. You’re consumed by the way he fills up your stomach and how your clit rubs against the fabric of his shirt, and the way his panting breaths, wet on your ear, mix with your choking gasps. You don’t even care that Jane is just a few feet away, puffing on her cigarette as she nonchalantly twists her stockings back on. As the two youngest, prettiest girls on the senator’s staff, you’ve both become used to these kinds of situations. He’s always had a habit of beckoning either one of you into his office a few times a week, but ever since he started on these new libido-increasing painkillers, he’s been calling you both in every single day, usually one immediately after the other. Probably because once he gets himself all riled up with one girl, he simply cannot resist the temptation to have another, almost like someone with a sweet tooth being unable to say no to a second helping of dessert.

Sometimes, when he’s in one of his ornery, let’s see how far I can push people moods, he’ll call you both in at once and ask you to make out with each other or something. You’re glad he isn’t in one of those moods today. You don’t necessarily mind kissing Jane—all you really want is to make the senator happy—but, for obvious reasons, you much prefer to do stuff with him.

His big, rough hands are needy and eager—squeezing your throat, then rubbing your breasts, then holding your thighs, then cupping around your butt. Teasingly, he curls his fingers into the crack between your buttcheeks and pulls them apart, which makes you pucker and squeal, which makes him chuckle.

He usually makes these guttural grunting sounds every time he heaves himself inside you, but sometimes a little whimper will escape him. When this happens, it worries you because you think he might be hurting himself. You know he takes those painkillers because of his bad back, and you don’t want him to over-exert himself on your behalf. But there’s something primal and matter-of-fact about him during sex, like a dog marking its territory before going about its business, that makes him not have time to think about his physical limits.

You don’t dare mention your concerns to him, though. You once saw him lash out viciously at an aide who’d simply tried to help him with his crutches. Everyone around him cowered. He’s quite frightening, and you told him so a few weeks ago while you and a few other secretaries were walking with him down to the capitol building. You thought hearing that would stroke his ego. And you’re pretty sure it did, even though all he did was throw his head back and laugh and say, “You silly girls are frightened of everything.”

Now, you’re saying, “Please, just like that. Oh, Mr. Kennedy, god, yes” because you know he likes that. Right on cue, you feel his skin getting hotter against your lips. He picks up his pace. You feel like you’re going to melt and drip all over him.

“Ugh, fuck,” he says then, a little too loudly. Then he glances at the door and grits his teeth, annoyed at himself. “God fucking dammit,” he says, much softer. You see him make sheepish eye contact with Jane, who’s now sitting at his desk. She chuckles before going back to flipping through a draft of his upcoming DNC speech.

The senator turns away from her. After a few moments of watching his cock pump in and out from between your legs, his brow furrowed in concentration, he looks back up at you with heavy-lidded, lust-drugged eyes. He licks a bead of sweat off your breast, and that’s enough to finally push you over the edge. You bite down on his shoulder as you cum.

He finishes inside of you only a few seconds later. He doubles over, groaning into a clenched jaw, holding you to him with a hand on the small of your back.

thank you for reading!!

fic taglist:

@evie-gets-bitches

@kennediva

@secretwonderlandcheesecake

@melancholicstation

@southernpopprincess

@maudesgf

@neverellaxx11

@astro-vibes-bro

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@fortheloveofjos

@saturns-flowers

@raspberryknees

[irkenarcadia]

Aww, it’s Aka! Thanks to @khaliarart I’ve been sucked back into IZ after being dormant since like 2003…?

Was heavy into it when it came out and I was in HS. AKA I’m pretty old. Haha.🙃

But now my style is horrifying though I guess I can draw cute stuff sometimes.

…even if impending doom is in the red light on the second slide.

:3

And color…wow. I’m still working on figuring out how I WANT to color stuff but uh…yeah. Hard to fiddle faddle when you work a lot lol.

[luimagines]

Incredible Reenactment

Another commission

Masterlist

They asked for Reader being isekai’ed into Hyrule after being in a Ren Fair. They meet the Chain. Starting with Woflie. :D

Enjoy.

Content under the cut!

It was a perfect sunny day to be at the Renaissance Fair. 

You had dressed up in your home made clothes to fit in with the aesthetic. You had your water bottle and a whole lot of cash that you were willing to blow on any and all impulses while you were there.

It wasn’t often that you stepped in to see the place, but it was all in good fun.

As you were walking along the booths and shops of the fair, you noticed multiple cosplayers. One of them even had the most accurate and stunning Dark Link cosplays you had ever seen. You had let them know what you thought of it.

You don’t know what pushed you so much to go talk to them but even if it was just that single sentence. The ‘hey, I like your outfit.’ In and Out. You can do it! You’d never see them again after today anyway. They had to know.

You tried to follow them at least to tap them on the shoulder but it seemed that the closer you got the faster they seemed to move. Maybe they were running away from you? You didn’t think they saw you.

In any case, you had managed to lose sight of them.

“Fiddle faddle…” You pout and lean against the wall. It was a shame but there’s little you could do about it. 

Oh well, it was a cool costume. You shake your head and move to go back to where you were. You weren’t done looking around the fair. And you wanted to explore every inch.

But your ankle gives out from under you, sending you to the ground.

You pop back up, like a daisy, and brush down your clothes. “Cool, cool, cool.... No one saw that. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

You move away from the area, trying to run away from your impending embarrassment. Some people looked your way as you scrambled to gain distance but that only heightened your self-consciousness.

Ho-kay! This is a little too much attention you’re garnering for yourself. Maybe it’s time to take a step out and calm down before starting over.

You walk through the stalls and the booths. There’s more people around you than you remember, but maybe they just got there. You find one of the exits. It’s along a tall stone wall with large wooden doors that connect to a wooden drawbridge.

“They really went all out with this.” You marvel as you look upwards to see it all. You nearly crash into a coming in patron with a horse but with a quick apology, you keep moving.

You walk onto the field in front just beyond the town’s borders. The parking lot should be nearby. But you can’t seem to find it. If anything you think that there are a lot more trees around here than you thought there was when you pulled in.

“I must have gone through the other side of the fair.” You scratch the top of your head.

Something enters the corner of your eye and you turn your head to it. A massive gray and black canine is slowly coming your way. Is it a wolf? It’s certainly large enough to be a wolf.

“Easy.” You say, putting your hands up. As if that would stop it from hurting you. Your heart starts pounding in your chest at the sight of the animal. “Easy buddy…Are you alone? Do you have people?”

At least it doesn’t seem aggressive, you think to yourself. It comes closer and you instinctively put your hand out. If it’s just a dog, it’ll sniff it. If it’s a wolf, well then you’ll have to figure another solution.

The creature pauses and tilts its head. Clearly, the poor thing was not informed about the procedure here.

You keep your hand out, hoping for the best but mentally preparing yourself for the worst. “I’m friendly. Are you friendly?”

The canine steps closer and pauses. The question is plastered all over its face. It licks your knuckles.

Your heart melts and all the tension drops from your body. “Oh..ok. Cool. No biting. No Fighting. We’re cool. I’m cool…. I’m talking to a dog. Fun.”

You sag and sit on the ground. The dog continues to sniff you, as if you've just given permission for it to do so. You sigh and watch it do its thing. “Where are your people? 

“Wolfie!!” A kid cries.

He comes running out of the tree line and instantly spots the two of you. You sag further. Thank god, you think. Some people to take care of the dog. This is why you need to have your dogs on a leash. Something could happen. 

You wave as he comes closer. “Hey. Is he yours?”

“Um..” He pauses. He’s a cute kid. He looks just like Link from Wind Waker. It’s another great costume. “Well, not really. He just shows up sometimes but he’s a good boy. I was wondering where he went.”

That’s…a good enough answer. Wait a minute, how old is he? Where are his parents?

The questions are just on the tip of your tongue when more people come out of the woodwork. Their armor looks legit and they all have some sort of weapon. Multiple of them look like a version of Link. Each costume seems authentic and expertly made. It’s impressive.

You move to stand, a smile already playing on your lips. ”Good afternoon! I’m assuming the dog is yours?”

“...Yeah, sorry about that.” One of them answers.

“Right.” You elect to ignore the strange pause. It’s fine.

“I really like your outfit.” You say, looking back to the young boy smiling. “You look a lot like Link.”

He blinks and points to himself. You nod. He tilts his head with a strange smile. “I am Link.”

You blink and point to the other boys. “Who are they then?”

“Also Link.”

A pause. You need to sit down for a moment.

[naomiknight-17]

Cleaned the muffin pans... Jon mashed bananas... got the darn muffins in the oven.

I still have 2 bananas left and if they aren't beyond hope tomorrow maybe I'll combine them with the ones at Mom's place and make a couple banana bread loaves to send home with the expected Easter weekend guests

For now tho, I am DONE

I have done at least 3 loads of dishes today, made & frosted cupcakes last night, made rice krispie squares and mini egg cookies today, and packaged up a bunch of treats to send to my sister and her family

And now! Now I am baking muffins

That's enough, man

I've done soo much baking and dishes the last 36 hours... but my bananas may not make it through the night if I don't make them into something now...

Gods of baking give me strength

[fiddlefaddlecomic]

INTERMISSION 1

[theoutcastrogue]

Scene from The New Art and Mystery of Gossiping, Being a Genuine Account of All the Women’s Clubs in and about the City and Suburbs of London, c.1760 showing some of the swear words that most raised pulses in early modern England.

"I stumbled upon this question as a historical consultant for a new drama set in the 16th century, when I needed to assess whether certain curse words in the script would have been familiar to the Tudors. The revelation – given away in the title of Melissa Mohr’s wonderful book Holy Sh*t – is that all swear words concern what is sacred or what is scatological. In the Middle Ages, the worst words had been about what was holy; by the 18th century they were about bodily functions. The 16th century was a period when what was considered obscene was in flux.

The most offensive words still used God’s name: God’s blood, God’s wounds, God’s bones, death, flesh, foot, heart, arms, nails, body, sides, guts, tongue, eyes. A statute of 1606 forbade the use of words that ‘iestingly or prophanely’ spoke the name of God in plays. Damn and hell were early modern variations of such blasphemous oaths (bloody came later), as were the euphemistic asseverations, gad, gog and egad.

Many words we consider, at best, crude were medieval common-or-garden words of description – arse, shit, fart, bollocks, prick, piss, turd – and were not considered obscene. To say ‘I’m going to piss’ was the equivalent of saying ‘I’m going to wee’ today and was politer than the new 16th-century vulgarity, ‘I’m going to take a leak’. Putting body parts or products where they shouldn’t normally be created delightfully defiant phrases such as ‘turd in your teeth’, which appears in the 1509 compendium of the Oxford don John Stanbridge. Non-literal uses of these words – which is what tends to be required for swearing – like ‘take the piss’, ‘on the piss’, ‘piss off’ – all seem to be 20th-century flourishes. For the latter, the Tudors would have substituted something diabolical – ‘the devil rot thee’ – or epidemiological – ‘a pox on you’.

But the scatological was starting to become obscene. Sard, swive and fuck were all slightly rude words for sexual intercourse. An early recorded use of the f-word was a piece of marginalia by an anonymous monk writing in 1528 in a manuscript copy of Cicero’s De officiis (a treatise on moral philosophy). The inscription reads: ‘O d fuckin Abbot’. Given that the use of the f-word as an intensifier didn’t catch on for another three centuries, this is likely a punchy comment on the abbot’s immoral behaviour.

Frig and jape were also on the cusp of offensiveness. Randle Cotgrave’s 1611 French-English dictionary translates the French fringue as ‘to lecher or lasciviously frig with the tail’ (tail was a euphemism for penis). Cunt was also starting to move from being the most direct word to describe a part of the anatomy into obscenity. Shakespeare makes jokes in Hamlet about ‘country matters’ in which he clearly means (as the next line says) what ‘lie[s] between maids’ legs’. Bugger remained a non-explicit word for anal sex.

Today many of these words have an admirable grammatical flexibility for which the Tudors had no clear substitute. For a phrase to express unfortunate circumstances that seem impossible to overcome (‘we’re fucked’), the Historical Thesaurus of English tells us that they would have proclaimed themselves to be ‘in hot water’ (first use 1537), ‘in a pickle’ (1562), ‘in straits’ (1565) or, in the most extreme predicament, at one’s ‘utter shift’ (c.1604). To ‘fuck up’ or spoil something, they’d have used ‘to bodge’ or ‘to botch’. To say something was codswallop, baloney, bollocks, they’d have gone with trumpery, baggage, rubbish or the wonderful reduplicating terms that appear in the 1570s and 80s: flim-flam, fiddle-faddle, or fible-fable.

But, holy words aside, if you really wanted to offend someone in the 16th century, you’d call them a whore, knave, thief, harlot, cuckold, or false. They still cared more about a reputation for behaving badly than how to describe the behaviour itself."

– Suzannah Lipscomb

[more-than-tender-curiosity]

I’m really curious as to your opinions on each of the Gatsby films. What do you think they did right/wrong? What do you like/dislike about casting choices? If you could make your ideal Gatsby movie rendition would you take any inspo from the existing movies?

(I would add the broadway musical into that list just for the heck of it but we all know that was just funky music loosely wrapped in Gatsby paper)

Oh good heavens...

Okay. So. I'll just talk about them in order of release. And again these are my OPINIONS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT I WAS ASKED FOR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO YELLING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WILL CRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SO many spoilers ahead. You have been warned.

1926

Obviously this film is lost, but we have the trailer, photos, and Fitz's own reaction to it, which was to say he and Zelda left halfway through. It's not even based off the book, either, but based off a play based off the book, so one can imagine that given the filmmaking style of the time and its disconnect from the source material, it likely wasn't the most accurate adaptation.

Accuracy isn't everything in terms of what makes an adaptation 'good'—it's definitely a factor, though, along with entertainment value, justification for any alteration to the story, attention to detail, Genuine Caring For The Source Material, acting, casting, etc...all of these go into consideration, at least for me.

The casting seems alright for this version. Daisy has dark hair. Nick's taller than Jay and visibly, uhhhhhhhhh...well, like...have you ever heard of 'gay face'? But it ends about there, as Tom looks like he's 50, Jordan is...just not right, and as is often the case, Wilson is somehow beyond 'faintly handsome'? Do they just not have enough middies running around in Hollywood?

The costumes are obviously pretty accurate, though very clearly 1926 trying to do 1922. The skirts are. UP there. And I get that jay's shirts are monogrammed but a hand-sized monogram on each jacket? What? Did they think audiences would lose track of which brunette man was which?

Here's a photo. God nick is such a cunt look at him

I can't accurately give the whole film a rating but what I know of it gives it a 6.5/10. Bonus points to jay for pushing the no white shoes after labor day rule up to the very brink.

1949

...listen.

In terms of accuracy to the book, this is not the best. It's just not. It's a star vehicle for Alan Ladd who, at the time, was popping off hardcore in the film noir market, so they fiddle faddled with the tone a bit and shot it in black and white despite having access to color, amped up the crime (jay smokes some bitches in the first five minutes??? takes a hefty swing at a man at a party????) and then said uhhhhh what book are we adapting again?

East Egg and West Egg are scrambled, which goes against the whole 'east coast/old money' vs 'westerners/new money' thing. Nick and Jordan are married in the beginning before flashing back. Nick's just not hypocritical enough in this one, either, which is bothersome, because that's the whole point of his character in the novel—that he can't see his own faults for the more glaring faults of others.

They press fast forward a lot. Like there's no drive to new york or meyer lunch—nick and jay just snuggle in his boat watching the green light and jay tries to lie to nick and nick catches him immediately and jays like AH. YA GOT ME. HA HA. ?????????

if it weren't for alan ladd I would not watch this movie. Don't get me wrong, I love Macdonald Carey as Nick, but I think playing across from anyone else, this would be entirely forgettable and borderline unwatchable.

Alan Ladd. Alan Ladd. Where do I begin with Alan Motherfucking Ladd. This man is Jay Gatsby personified. I know that's controversial because 2013 has brainwashed people into thinking jay gatsby is over six feet tall, but there is something so distinctly perfect about casting a malnourished 5'7 midwestern blonde with such intense parental issues that he never recovered from the sickness that is an impoverished American childhood as jay gatsby. Alan Ladd was underestimated, spat on, put down from day fucking one. Every single time he got ahead in life he was cut down at the knees until finally, finally he found validation and celebrity in playing these soft-spoken, angel-faced killers onsreen. Only it wasn't enough. It was never enough. It could never fill that void and he could never get ahead of himself. You want to tell me that doesn't mirror the fuck out of Jay's life? You want to tell me there was a man in Hollywood at the time who could so deeply understand this character, even through the bullshit rewrites to try and mold the story into something it wasn't? There are even accounts of him taking reporters to his bedroom to show them his closet, saying 'not bad for an okie boy'. That's Jay. That's Jay in pure essence. Never having enough, and so excited to show what he had. Literally look into his past at all and you will mourn his lack of control over the direction the film took, because I know damn good and well if he had been more than just everybody's favorite film noir star at the time and a more respected name, he could have really pushed and pulled to peel back the story and pull better performances from the rest of the cast as a result.

Bonus points for having a really fucking weird Dan Cody and Ella Kaye. Both were distinctly, visibly, vocally predatory toward Jay and it's like the directors actually looked into prior drafts, even if I know damn good and well they didn't. I don't even know if they read the damn book.

Costumes were fine. I wish wish wish wish it had just been in color (THEY COULD HAVE DONE IT.) so that we could see if jay got his pink suit. I swear to god the sight of alan ladd in a pink suit would actually kill me.

I'll give this one a 7/10 overall, points dinging for accuracy to the novel and pacing and some really weird choices, like having jay come from the rainbow division in the war (????) to making nick like...offer to spank jordan. i don member THAT from the book. Most of these points come from Alan Ladd.

Uh. Here's myrtle getting hit by the car

1974

oh boy.

Where to begin? The film is a fucking mess. It's a goddamn motherfucking mess and I can only watch it if I cut Jay and Daisy out of it entirely, which is a shame, because I love both of their characters (for different reasons) but. oh my GOD.

So they got truman capote to write the screenplay at first. unfortunately he made nick and jay skinny dip, and jordan was a vindictive lesbian, and it was 1974 so they weren't about that noise at ALL. There's other stuff in that script too and it's honestly...not a great script to begin with, but that meant they had to REWRITE THE ENTIRE THING WITH JUST WEEKS TO GO BEFORE PRODUCTION. THEY ASKED FRANCIS FORD COPPOLA (THE GODFATHER.) TO WRITE IT AND HE DID IT IN THREE WEEKS IN A HOTEL ROOM, HAVING BEEN UNFAMILIAR WITH THE BOOK, THEN CLAIMED THEY DIDN'T EVEN USE HIS SCRIPT AFTER ALL??? HUH? HUH WHUH?

you can tell. oh boy you can tell. 'jay' and 'daisy' sit around talking in silent rooms for several minutes at a time, just...expositioning all over the place. it's...astonishing.

that's another thing. i...am aware mia farrow is a beloved actress and she did wonderful things onscreen in other films but she is totally and completely unwatchable as daisy. if I knew no other adaptation, she would make me hate daisy with a blind fucking rage. it's not even that she's a bad actress in this—she just does not fit the role even a LITTLE. she's shrill and loud and like...i don't know if she's on coke or what (I mean it's the 70s.) but she just whines and flails her way through the film in an entirely undaisy sort of way. like where is this girl with the sad, lovely face and the voice that's a deathless song? her voice isn't full of money in this, it's counterfeit. she owes me a debt for making me have to listen to her. she only got the job because her name was big at the time and she just asked for it and got it, no audition, no screen test, no nothing. i wish they would have switched lois chiles into daisy's role rather than have her playing jordan, because she was just a much better match for the character.

1974 has one of my favorite toms at least. I've said it before but he's got that sort of frustrated, unsatisfied disinterest, a sort of distraction about him that really lends well to the whole notion of forever chasing down his college days and all that.

WEIRD fuckin chester mckee in this one, but points for being the first fuckin film to show my man onscreen! there's even an elevator scene in this one but it's not between nick and chester, unfortunately. though there is immense sexual tension regardless.

SPEAKING OF NICK! SAM WATERSTON MY BELOVED!!!!

Yet again another flawless casting along the lines of Alan Ladd as Jay. He's such a bitch. I don't think Nick is the same if he's not a cynical gay little cunt some of the time and despite being apparently one of the nicest people in Hollywood, sam just GETS IT. HERE is someone who floats above reproach like his shit don't stink. HERE is someone who will throw the blame on just about anyone but himself—and has to let jay into that same bubble of protection. HERE is someone who knows he's useless but is too afraid to admit it to himself because he's turning 30 and is about to face a crisis of mortality. he's judgemental and critical and somehow pulls off the sort of mind-altering gay panic nick very explicitly experiences around jay every 5 seconds in prior drafts of the book. i wish you all understood how hot nick thinks gatsby is. i wish you all knew what I know. sam waterston knows. and he gets it. he also just looks like nick. like crooked teeth and awkward nose and all. that's nick. i wanna kick him in the shins.

i gotta talk about jay's house in this one. it's bad. why does he live in a greek temple. like. nick describes jay's house in the book. he does. he's a faux provincial palace. almost a fairytale castle. that's on purpose. why. is he living in a marble box. is it supposed to be a tomb. are you making death jokes. fuck you Robert Redford

speaking of Robert Redford. did anyone let him know who he was playing in the movie or did you just hand him a script and tell him to start wherever. I get that jay isn't known for his brains but I have never seen a more confused lead in a film does he even know the camera is rolling or does he do that naturally

costuming is unmemorable and inoffensive except

YOU CALL THAT PINK? PINK?

6/10. Saved by Sam Waterston. Rendered unwatchable by Mia Farrow.

2000

OH BROTHER THIS GUY STINKS

No seriously who let the BBC do this. 5 million dollar budget and they used 4.9 of it on jordan's fuck ass bob.

I don't even know where to begin. I guess I should start at the beginning. The movie opens to Jay dead in the pool, which is the best part of the movie because he's dead.

Nothing about this film is good. I...I hate to say that because I try to find a little good in every adaptation but holy CHRIST. I have only seen this one in parts because I physically cannot sit and watch the whole thing at once.

Nick is played by Paris from Romeo+Juliet. He's not good. Even the one scene I kind of sort of like, at the end where he burns all of jay's papers(?????) is kind of undercut because HE STILL WRITES THE BOOK?? THE EXPOSE??? WHY BOTHER??? HE'S ALREADY DEAD????

I don't remember tom in this. I barely remember Jordan, but she's really, really into Nick and it's kind of upsetting to watch from a visceral standpoint. It's very uncanny valley. That's a NotJordan. the real jordan would never.

it gets worse.

Whoever thought they should cast whatever his name is as Jay—death. death to all of them. That is the most smarmy, leering, dickweed of a dude I have ever had the displeasure of existing near. It's like if the jay equivalent of people who make hating daisy their entire personality got to design jay's characterization for this film. There are no good parts to him. It's just like every single person who's boiled him down to jUsT a CrEePy StAlKeR OWO got to write a film. i would even be down for that point of view if it was well-acted and well written but UNFORTUNATELY, THE ACTING BUDGET WENT TO JORDAN'S WIG,

I can't even remember. 1974 and 2000 blend together for me.

The costuming is so bad but like. whatever. i thought I could live with it.

until.

oh dear god why does daisy have 2007 hollister hair it's 1917

you get more than one photo this time because I know most people haven't seen this film

tell me this didn't come off a CW vampire show in 2011

IS THAT RENESMEE?

SMILEDOG IS THAT YOU?

THE HAIR?

and of course, jordan's 4.9million dollar fuckass bob

Like i get it. period dramas are hard. but good fucking god. im so uncomfortable looking at every single person in this film

BONUS:

1/10 only because i get to watch NotJay die twice

i need a breather

...

2013

okay

In terms of direct, faithful adaptation, I think this one is the best. Like they didn't technically skimp on anything super major, didn't really try to put scenes in a blender. There's clearly, like. a whole script.

I'm already a Baz Luhrmann fan. I have been since the 7th grade when I saw this little movie called—

Romeo + Juliet. No, not tgg. I saw that next, though, and was obsessed. Love. Love!

I love when you can tell an adaptation is made by someone who actually cares about adapting the source material. Very key words there. Adapting. Source Material. Cares About. Because all of these other adaptations are clearly just looking to use a classic novel to make a movie but bazco clearly wanted to Adapt The Great Gatsby For Modern (At the time) Audiences.

I like a lot of the decisions made there. Casting an Indian actor as Meyer Wolfshiem—even if it goes against the explicit description of him in the book as this small beady eyed little weirdo, I think it was a better call to give a lesser-known (to American audiences) poc actor a role rather than continue digging the antisemitic hole Fitzgerald decided to dig himself for some reason.

The music too. It gets so much flack but I totally get what Baz was going for and it was honestly a little ahead of its time in 2013. To take a very White story (I could talk about the implications of Jay being mixed/black/otherwise poc all day) and apply our generation's equivalent of jazz ("oversexualized black people music") to forcing modern white audiences to face the fact that we absolutely will still sit here and find any reason to try and justify the erasure of black influence on the culture of America at any given point—it's chef's kiss. Shut the fuck up about it. I'm tired of hearing shit about the music being anachronistic. Yes, I would have loved to hear more period-accurate rejuvenated jazz covers in there. NO it would not be swing because hey bitch that too is anachronistic, it wasn't around in 1922. You can't have it both ways. Baz had a point to make and he teamed up with JAY Z to make it and yet again a bunch of white nerds got mad that they had to confront their internalized racism.

Yes, it is that deep. Everything is. To pretend it isn't is cowardice.

Anyway! The CGI pisses me off. It always will. If it's marvel or mordor I really don't give a damn, with that kind of budget you can afford some practical effects and save the CGI for moments where it can ACCENTUATE the practical effects to heighten the sense of mystification Nick undoubtedly felt upon entering this world. There's just no excuse for a lot of their effects and it's very disappointing to think of them trying to act in all these hollow blue environments.

Finally, FINALLY there's some depth to nick and jay's interactions. There's been this sort of disconnect in every other adaptation thus far and I'll give credit to Tobey Maguire and Leo DiCaprio for being friends for six thousand years before taking these roles, because the chemistry is Something Else.

that being said. tobey maguire was a really weird choice for nick carraway. I...don't really see it. I've called it Gooberfication before, as if they're sort of dumbing down his character and making him more palatable for the audience. I don't think it was an acting choice on Tobey's part but a choice made by the filmmakers themselves. There's no point in the book where Nick tries to make himself out as this friendly aw shucks ah geez scuse me ass goober, even when he's trying to claim he's like this unjudgemental dude. He lets you know outright that he'll do just about anything to get out of a conversation. He lies about his relationships, breaks up with people on a whim, is cynical and critical and has a barb to his tongue EVEN AROUND JAY (like when he considers asking to see Jay's rubies, knowing damn well he doesn't have any fuckin rubies.) And that's BEFORE jay dies. He's even worse after that, and I do appreciate the framing device of having Nick write this book while in recovery from...That Event.

which brings me to Baz Luhrmann Ships Natsby, Fuck You. He does. Oh my god. How are they queerer here than in actual fics I've written? Literal fireworks when they meet??? Nick being the one to call jay and hear the gunfire. that is his HUSBAND. "he did not know it (his dream) was already behind him" AS NICK STANDS BEHIND AN IMAGINED VERSION OF JAY. NICK HAVING TO PUT HIMSELF AWAY IN A MENTAL HOSPITAL AFTER GRIEVING HIM FOR YEARS???? BECOMING AN ALCOHOLIC INSOMNIAC WITH DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, AND FITS OF ANGER?????????????? BECAUSE HIS NEIGHBOR HE KNEW FOR THREE MONTHS DIED???????????????????????????? H. HELLO?

GOD.

Anyway. Speaking of their meeting, the song used in the background is Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin, which was professed by Fitz to have been THEE gatsby song, so that's a very nice touch. All the newspapers about Jay are written by prior Fitz characters. Even the clippings in Jay's scrapbooks attempt to add realism to the world but they...don't make sense entirely but that's fine. I know the filmmakers read at least Trimalchio but I don't know if they read the Princeton Draft. Either way, good on them.

Will never forgive this film for twinkifying Nick Carraway. Will never forgive it for planting the seed of top jay/bottom nick in the minds of the youth. I completely blame this movie for it. I don't think Jay was even topping Daisy at this point. He couldn't top a sundae. Even if he's played by Leonardo DiCaprio.

SPEAKING OF DAISY!!!!! I think Carey Mulligan did a damn good job at playing her accurately and as as much of a person as she could while still having the film's pov limited to Nick. Carey's a very good actor and she pretty clearly did her research to play Daisy, and was just very well cast. Now if the costume designers had simply allowed her to keep her natural hair color. Same with Jordan/Elizabeth Debicki. Daisy's brunette. Jordan's blonde. It's right there in the book in several places. I've talked about it forever. WHY would you go to the effort to change your actors' appearances when they were already accurate? Why? Why? Are you incapable of imagining a desirable woman who isn't blonde?

that being said, all jordan bakers should be 6'3. Elizabeth debicki, no notes.

tom's fine in this one. myrtle and George are too. chester actually gets to like. appear onscreen and try to get nick into the bedroom but UGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH of COURSE there's no elevator scene because nothing is ever fair or right or good. that's not MY chester (iykyk) but it is certainly A chester which is better than NO chester.

I would like to say that the Plaza scene in this film is the best of any of them. I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jay was at a point in his health that if Wilson hadn't killed him, a heart attack would, and that's precisely the behavior exhibited in 2013's plaza scene. This is a man who has been twisting himself up into a tighter and tighter ball his entire life and has now just fucking sprung open because he's realized this is it, this is the end, everything I have done has been entirely pointless and I'm about the lose the one last fucking thing I have to live for and it's my fault because everything has been since the day I was born. Like I won't say it's 'mask off' and this would have been some sort of normal explosive behavior for him if he did end up getting to 'keep' daisy (because obviously shes An Object,,,,, right,,,,) but this...was coming regardless of whether tom dragged it out of him or not. it really exhibits just how much was going on behind the scenes that not even nick was privy to. just imagine how much pressure wolfshiem put on him in the end to keep going, keep working, as if his life isn't on the cusp of completely turning upside down.

(putting a space here because tumblr got mad about how much I wrote.)

that's one tiny little thing I absolutely adore about 2013. it's a blink and you'll miss it moment where meyer AND GOONS are in jay's office and he asks jay what's going on. It's so simple but so fucking menacing. it's so subtle. the implication that meyer has jay in a chokehold and the more time he spends with daisy, the more meyer gets pissed, and the more meyer gets pissed, the more likely he'll cut jay out of the business entirely, and jay's holding on to this tiny little string of assurance that he can manage it all for daisy and it's worth it for daisy and he's still the pretty face for the front of the company and meyer NEEDS him for that and if meyer needs him then it'll be okay, he can balance daisy and the business it'll be FINE—until it isn't, obviously. he originally turned daisy down when she suggested running away because all his money is tied up with meyer and if he runs, either meyer will track him down and kill him because he knows too much or he has to start over again. of course eventually he comes around to realize that running is their only option but it's too late and he knows that by the time he blows up at the plaza. he hit his breaking point and ruined everything. and leonardo DiCaprio is the only one who I think really captured just how fucking wound up jay really was.

I'm not talking about the broadway musical anymore

but if i were to make my own gatsby film...

I've never actually thought about it enough to pin down a cast. I have, however, considered that if for whatever reason I was given the opportunity to make any sort of adaptation of it, I'd probably have a black Jay regardless, and I think Ncuti Gatwa would be a really fun choice. Look at him. Imagine you're drunk and gay and this is across the table. Nick I get it.

I would try to keep in line with the book as best I could, though, because it's important to me. I live and breathe the history of this novel and I can see all the lives woven into each minute detail and I would hate to not do it justice.

...

Otherwise...I do spend hours a day daydreaming about turning Gatsby into a limited series a la Anne with an E, albeit more adult in nature due to the subject matter. But I can see it in my head so clearly. I wish wish wish I could. Maybe one day. If only.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Hero vs Government- Part 4

Part 3

Scientist ran a few more basic tests. They took Hero’s blood pressure, got some saliva samples, and even a small sample of ice.

“Enough of that doctor’s office fiddle-faddle, Scientist,” General said, “we need to test for temperature tolerance and cryo-healing.”

Scientist looked at Hero.

“I was thinking we should stop for today,” Scientist started slowly, “they’ve already passed out once-”

“Scientist. We are on the clock here, we don’t have time to worry about them swooning,” General interrupted, “run the temperature tolerance test.”

Scientist sighed, then waved the three agents over. Two of them got Hero back in the wheelchair, while the third gave injected them with another dose of the drug they had been given earlier.

“Woah man,” Hero said, feeling dizzy on the spot, “you guys are sick.”

The third agent wheeled Hero into a chamber. It looked like an industrial freezer, with glass windows on all sides.

“Good luck, Hero.” General smiled, folding their arms across their chest.

The agents left Hero inside, slamming the door shut behind them and locking it. Scientist pushed a button, and cold air wafted into the chamber. Hero sighed contentedly, too dazed to care about hiding how nice it felt.

The air continued to get colder as Scientist wrote notes on a clipboard. Hero tried to stand a few times, but collapsed back into the chair, their limbs wobbly. They heard Scientist and General talking to each other from outside.

“It’s below freezing, and they’re still just sitting there!” Scientist said in awe, “not even shivering at all. They must be quite comfortable in the cold.”

“I’ve seen enough. Let’s see how they fare in the opposite direction.”

General took hold of a knob on a control panel and turned it all the way to the right. The cold air stopped pumping through the chamber and was instead replaced by warm air. Hero’s brow started to form little cold beads of sweat. Hero tried to get up, but collapsed to the floor, breathing hard.

“S-stop,” Hero said, “turn it off, please.”

Scientist wrote a note on their clipboard, then reached for the knob. General grabbed their wrist and shook their head.

“Not yet,” they said.

Dark spots started encroaching on Hero’s vision. Their skin felt hot, and their clothes stuck to their body in wet patches.

“Please.”

Hero’s world started to go dark just as the door opened and cool air filled the chamber. The agents lifted them up, placing them back in the wheelchair and bringing them back to the padded chair. After strapping them down, Scientist came over with a match.

“I really think we should sedate them for this,” Scientist said.

“Nonsense, how will you get feedback if they’re asleep?” General asked, “and matches? We talked about this.”

“We don’t need that much power for my data-”

“Scientist, if you keep arguing with me I’ll have you thrown off this project completely and get someone else who will do the job. Get the blowtorch.”

Scientist stood, frozen.

“Oh for the love of- it’s fine. Really. Lily-livered beaker brains like you don’t have the stomach for this sort of thing anyway.”

General grabbed a blowtorch from the cart and brought it to Hero’s skin. Scientist hid behind their clipboard, knowing what was coming next.

General pressed the ignition button, and Hero screamed. Oh how they screamed, loud and long, as the white-hot flames licked up their entire forearm. General turned off the torch, setting it aside, then turned to Scientist.

“Write that down,” they said over Hero’s wails of pain.

An agent injected a serum into Hero’s neck, and their agony was coupled with such a strong drowsiness that their screams turned to whimpers, which turned into snores in a matter of seconds.

Hero was unstrapped, and their sleeping form was wheeled back to their room, their forearm bubbling with third-degree burns.

Part 5

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The Rug Hooking Club Food Of The Day Is Fiddle Faddle, Butter Toffee.