#and Eddie is not your middle aged man that because is the main character is for no reason charismatic and women fall at his feet

[alexjcrowley]

Are we really going to pretend Takin Over The Asylum doesn't have a pitch that smokes 80% of Netflix original series

[buddiesmutslut]

I saw a post the other day about someone being pissed that people were calling Eddie gay instead of bi only because they couldn't handle more than one bisexual person on a show. Now, I didn't make Eddie gay/demi, he was born that way, BUT it got me thinking, because the whole crew feels very fruity? SO, I want to get your guys' opinions on what you think the rest of the characters are. (JUST the characters. We're not speculating on the actors. We all know this.) I'm going to put mine below & I'd love to hear everyone else's thoughts :) These are by vibes only. As a definite demisexual and probable bi woman, idk how great my gaydar is, but sexuality is a spectrum & straight isn't the default, so let's go!!

Bobby - 0% fruity. That is a straight, middle aged white man (affectionate) if I've ever seen one.

Athena - Also straight.

Chim - Chim feels very straight to me, but that scene with the bachelor had me peering at him a little closer, because I've never watched the Bachelor, but it looked like Joey (I think that was the bachelor's name, right? I've never watched a single episode of that show so I have no idea) had been around before, so I couldn't tell if he was like, starstruck, or "Wow that's a pretty boy and it's making me feel things" -struck 😂

Maddie - I don't get many vibes from her either, but I also have a vague fic idea of Madney breaking up in s4/s5 and her ending up with Shannon instead, so idk, maybe she's just unlabeled but somewhere on the spectrum of queerness?

Shannon - Bi vibes

Taylor Kelly - 100% bi, I refuse to hear any other argument.

Lucy Donato - This is a pansexual woman if I've ever seen one, you cannot convince me otherwise. (Also, the most interesting AND likable of Buck's female LI's, argue with the wall. Lucy, they'll never make me hate you bby 🩷💛💙.)

Lena Bokso - Lesbian vibes, for sure. I don't think there was ANY romantic undertones with her and Eddie (Which, I'm not saying that's the only reason I think she's a lesbian. She can like men and not like Eddie. Even if she did, Eddie wasn't in a place to do anything with those feelings, but I saw a post about that pairing recently & wanted to throw my 2 cents in)

May Grant - May also gives off queer vibes, and I've seen other view her as full wlw, but I think she gives off more bi/pan vibes?

Ravi - This man is soommmeee kind of queer that I just cannot put my finger on. I've seen him HC'd as gay, pan, & ace in some way, and I can honestly rock w/ any of the 3 of them. All I know is that he is not a straight man lol.

Albert - Also unsure about him, but if someone were to tell me that he was bi, I could definitely see it. I think that's influenced by the fic that had him, Ravi & May in a throuple, which was genuinely so cute.

Ana - Dr. Flores doesn't give off queer vibes for me, but that could be bc she was criminally underdeveloped & we know practically nothing about her.

Natalia - See above ^^

Ali Martin - Same ^^ although I could see her just being queer and not being more specific than that. Maybe she's straight, who knows. I literally forgot about her until I was looking up actor/actress names 😂

M*risol - straight & homophobic lmfao

Abby - Literally could not care less about her, but I wanted to include her so I could talk about her possibly being Tommy Kinard's ex-girlfriend and her coming back to LA for whatever reason and finding her ex-boyfriends happy & having totally forgotten about her predatory ass.

Also, obviously not speculating about any of the children, bc they're still children, even if they're fictional. It's icky.

I think that's all the main/reoccurring characters that we don't already know about, let me know if I missed any.

Talk about being the gay firefighter show, how accurate lmfao.

[firesoulstuff]

Relatives are family friends or neighbors but the main characters have never met and buddie for the au thing if it strikes your fancy :) <3

Buck is homesick, so sue him. He's never lived anywhere outside of Pennsylvania, in fact he can count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times he's left it in his entire life. Sleep-away camp in New Hampshire one year, a family trip to Disney the summer after Maddie graduated high school, and few other odd day or weekend trips over the course of his childhood. But he's never really left Hershey. Except now he has. He drove right out, with no destination in mind, just hell bent on getting away from his parents and starting over. So far he's rolled his way through a few states, worked a few odd jobs, but nothing worth putting down roots for. He's been missing Maddie lately. He's been sending her postcards, but postcards aren't going to bring her to him. At least, so far they haven't. It sucks, because he could really use a friendly face to turn to right now.

Which is why he's driving into Texas.

He reached out to a cousin of his dad's. Her and her husband used to come up and visit every couple years, he hasn't seen them since high school but... well no other family to visit. Anyway they seemed excited enough to have him come, invited him to a church picnic.

So here he is, pulling into a church parking lot, where he knows no one aside from some cousins whom he hasn't seen in ten years.

Maybe he should just keep driving.

No, he said he would come, and it was his idea in the first place.

He gets out of the jeep and starts walking towards the field at the back of the church, crowded with people with picnic blankets, baskets, lawn chairs, hula-hoops, kids running around... All the makings of a tight-knit community picnic.

"Now Christopher the field is a little bumpy so just make sure you're watching out."

"Ok Abuelo."

"He knows dad."

The conversation is on the other side of the car he's walking by, and as he passes said car he almost bumps smack into a family. They stop, for about half a second.

"Sorry." The older man says to him; there's him and who Buck assumes is his wife, a boy walking just ahead of them with crutches, and a guy about Buck's age who looks like he would much rather be anywhere that is not here.

The kid and the older couple keep walking, and Buck's pretty much right next to the guy and he can't help but feel like maybe he's intruding on something here.

Yet the guy is really hanging back from his group.

"Uh..."

The guy seems to jumpstart himself, shaking his head and starting to move along.

"Sorry." He says, and Buck really should hang back a bit, but that would leave him standing in the middle of this parking lot like an idiot.

"Um, no worries." He says, awkwardly ambling along side this, admittedly good-looking, guy. "Crowded place, right?"

"Yeah." The guy sighs, "Crowded place. Kid's been in crowded places before, plays outside all the time, and whose to say I didn't tell him to be careful before we left the house?"

Buck nods, and the guy sighs again, this time scrubbing a hand over his face.

"I'm sorry man." He says, "You didn't want to know any of that."

Buck chuckles, feeling himself start to relax for the first time since he decided to come here.

"It's uh, it's ok. Meeting family here but uh, I mean they might as well be strangers, but they're the only people I sort of know."

The guy laughs. "Good luck. If you need to hide, I don't plan on socializing much. Name's Eddie."

He holds out a hand, and Buck hopes his cheeks aren't too flushed when he accepts it.

"Evan."

[kitkatpancakestack]

Hey what is your personal head canon about Eddie’s sisters? We know nothing about them aside from the fact that they’re his sisters. I understand why because like they’re not main characters or even side characters but I guess since Eddie has brought up having sisters a few times, it has made some fans curious about them. Also the fact that we’ve seen them in the background of scenes a couple times but that’s like it. Anyway if you had to guess, do you think Eddie is close with his sisters? Like what’s your personal head canon about their relationship? I’m curious. There’s zero info on his sisters so I’m just asking your take- also how do you think his sisters view their parents? Do you think his sisters view their parents are overbearing and just acting like they know what’s best all the time even when they don’t like Eddie does probably? Or do you think their parents only treat Eddie like this because he could possibly be the oldest and they are extra hard on him because that plus the fact that he’s the only boy, and the fact that he had to grow up at a young (ish) age because he became a parent (he wasn’t THAT young, I feel like he was around 23/24 when he became a parent but still) and his parents nagged him about stepping up, being responsible, being a provider, etc. My head canon is that his parents were harder on him than his sisters for whatever reason and maybe it’s always been like this since they were kids. Also some fans think he’s the oldest because he looks like the oldest. Also because when Chris was born his mom was talking about her children’s births and she mentioned his sisters after his birth story I think but idk he probably is the oldest but I hc him as the middle child lol he gives middle child vibes to me but maybe I’m projecting lol

I deeply feel in the depth of my spirit that Eddie Diaz is a middle child. Do I have evidence for this? No. Do I still wholly believe it? Yes.

Here are some completely nonsensical headcanons I have:

Eddie is the sassiest man alive. Somehow his sisters are even sassier.

Anytime Eddie and his sisters are together they have a massive roast session. They've kept a running tally for literally like ten years for amount of roast-off wins.

I like to think Eddie and his sisters weren't extremely close when they were younger, but as they have gotten older they've reconnected and understand each other better out of the context of their parents' iron fist.

I love the idea of Eddie and his sisters having a weekly or monthly zoom call to catch up and vent about their parents.

I could probably go on but this is just off the top of my head. Anyway, give us the Diaz sisters, Tim! Let the Diaz siblings interact!

[popculturebuffet]

Green Eggs and Ham: Here (Patreon Review for Emma Ficci)

Hello all you happy people! And I have my first fully paid for comission and patreon review all in one! Yes my good friend Emma became a patreon and you can too, go to patreon.com/popculturebuffet. Even one buck a month helps and 5 a month nets you a review of whatever of your choice a month. An episode of any tv show I have acess to. It feels good to have more than one person paying my salary, though I sitll want to thank Kev, my other patreon for helping with that. 

So with that all in order, let’s talk about this thoroughly weird, thoroughly wonderful show from a couple years back. Green Eggs and Ham is modern adaptation of a Dr. Seuss book..... and I bet those of you who haven’t heard of this series before or it’s reputation just had your bowls clinch a bit. Yeah while I haven’t seen illumination’s takes on the maestro of children’s books, I haven’t heard the best things and the trailers and odd and counter productive marketing tie ins for the Lorax have made me want to stay 30 feet away from it at all times. Seriously you get certified Legend Danny DeVito.. and you waste him on “Dat’s a woman” a joke that I don’t have time to unpack all the ways it sucks. My point is Seuss really hasn’t had the best time with adaptations latey.  But leave it to Warner Animation and Netflix to pull out a great one. Yeah I wasn’t too excited about a tv adaptation of one book at first due to all this and even a celebrity cast wasn’t a good sign. They roped Danny DeVito into the Lorax. So even with a whopper cast containing Michael Douglas, Diane Keaton, my boy Adam Divine, Ilana Glazer, Kegan Michael Key,  Jeffery Wright, Eddie Izard and JIllian Bell.. I wasn’t convinced. But word of mouth was really good, and the animation looked downright gorgeous, perfectly mimicking suess’ work and feeling like an unabashed love letter. 

So I did what I tend to do.. and sat on it for several years because I simply forgot to watch it till my friend comissioned it and here we are. And off the bat.. the reputation.. is not remotely overblown. This is easily the best Dr. Seuss adaptation i’ve seen in some time taking the best of his ideas and whimsy, with what little behind the scenes stuff I could get saying they specifically took art design from his art of book, with a modern and intresting story behind it and an all star cast that this time around are used well instead of just being there for Name Recogntion. Not only that but it takes inspriation form, of all things, Planes Trains and Automobiles, but does so well so far, getting the oddcouple dynamic down perfectly. 

So join me under the cut as I cut this bit of green eggs and ham into bite sized pieces for you all and go into why it’s so delecitable. 

This episode’s mostly broken up into bits to introduce all the main players, so as I tend to do when there’s multiple plots, I will be covering each one at a time. 

Guy and Sam: The Failed Inventor and the Animal Thief

So our story begins with.. a ninja breaking into a zoo to steal the rare Chikaraffe. 

Neither was the narrator, played by Key.. and the narrator naturally for a work like this delightfully interacts with things and is one of the best parts of the whole episode. But this already shows how well the series updates things. There’s one or two things like Ninja Sam or a family making ducklips during a photo, there’s even a fairly obvious trump stand in we’ll get to.. but none of it’s SO overdone it takes you out of things or dates the projects. The tech is kept to about the 70′s or 80′s with cameras still used instead of camera phones, crt tv’s, and what have you, and most inventions seens are susian. It feels wholly in line with his books while still nudging it into our current decade here and there. In other words.. how you SHOULD do it: add in a few things here or there but no overt pop culture refrences and at most a take that at something Seuss would gladly take aim at. 

So we meet our other hero the next day, Guy-Am-I. Guy is the show’s version of the nameless harassment victim from the books, with a bit of a darker fur and hat, likely to help better distingish him from sam as well as sell him being older than his co-star. It’s a good change, and helps sell Guy as what he is.. a grumpy middle aged man who keeps failling in life as demonstrated by his way to the inventions: he falls in a puddle, signs no on a pettition because he’s in a hurry, reminds me of man in a hurry from hatchefield but I couldn’t find a good image of him saying that in time and takes a picture of the family “Say runing my life” “ruining your life!”. We later see after some of the following scenes Sam do the same.. but he hops over the puddle then dives ino for fun, signs an entire page of the pettition, and takes tons of pictures. It’s a nice establishing scene for both. 

Guy is presenting his invention for Snerzco, your standard megacorp given a delightful Seuss twist with LITERAL pencil pushers and beancounters, to present his invention, with other inventors presenting, witht he hopes of presenting to Snerzz himself, having such delightfully bonkers and seussian inventions as a reverse umbrella (it rains on you) and an automatic fingercrosser. It’s touches like this that really tell me the series really loves Dr. Seuss. 

Sadly things don’t go well for guy as he’s hoping his invention dosen’t explode, his invention being a backpack made of hands to help people fly. Most people are imprestted apart from Michelle a bean counter who.. randomly snarks she wouldn’t let her daughter fly on it.

Yeah it’s not a great introduction for one of your major characters to have her randomly mock something that hadn’t exploded yet, and to for no reason bring up what a paranoid and unfun parent she is. We’ll get to her more in a bit. But yes it does explode and Guy’s dreams are ruined. 

And this whole picture.. shows who guy is. He’s someone whose kept trying agian, and again and again only for it not to work, and to get laughed at by the public and spat on by god themslef. It’s easy to see WHY he’s such a bitter curmudgeon: life hates him, so why shouldn’t he hate it back. That’s a self defeating prophecy of course but this is episode one and tha’ts probably the point of the series: to explore this. That being said I could see this coming from a mile away and felt it to be the most unupsired bit of the episode. 

Guy enters a diner to get some Oatmush “The Sadmans Special” after the bus leaves before he can get to it because again, God hates him personally.  No the sadman’s special is a famous bowl from KFC. I should know as a professional sadman. Regardless Guy is miserable.. and in enters sam, whose fascenated their “Breifcase Buddies” because thier briefcases match.. and unlike the above I like how they call attention to them being identical. We know wha’ts going to happen there but the lampshading helps it go down easier and makes us wonder if they will swap. Sam is a regular, being friends with Donna the waitress and ordering his usual green eggs and ham.

So we get the expected bit: Sam asks Guy to try them, he says no, but the show makes a good choice. Instead of just.. stalking guy for the next 11 episodes to get him to try it.. he simply asks if he’s actually tried it, Guy says no and makes a great poop joke, and Sam leaves it. He apparently asks once an episode, but it’s made more into a character thing; Guy refuses because he hates to try new things outside of his inventing and that’s hit a wall. It’s also a nice suprise that Devine and Douglas just play perfectly off one another. The two are from vastly diffrent generations and backgrounds acting wise, but they just work perfectly together and it’s what makes their interactions work. 

Sam does leave it and the other inventors having ALL got the golden ticket, arrive and Sam treats them.. only to notice Guy’s paper and the fact guy failed, and asks donna politely to get guy his mush as he ordered first. It’s good setup for Sam. We saw him be nice and free and what not, but we also see that while he can be insietive (He asked guy what broken dream he had earlier in the scene) he does geniunely care and it isn’t just surface level. He loves people and helping them and getting to know them. 

Of course while Guy is greatful, showing that beneath his own exterior he’s not a bad guy just one made miserable by life, he’s not going to be best friends or anything.. that’s a lot to ask they just met and takes his case after gulping down his oatmush. 

That night Sam prepares to leave, having given Donna his adress.. multiple times. in the hopes someone comes over and hangs out. Can relate even if i’d never go that far. He does however reveal himself as the ninja and prepare to take the chikaraffe with him for whatever reason. 

Guy goes to his hotel room to sulk, not helped by the other inventors partying outside, and full of misery and self loathing throws his suitcase in the fire.. until it makes a noise. He quickly pulls it out to find the Chickaraffe. Will he surivive? I mean probably. We have 12 episodes left. And a full second season. God this is going to take a few years.. regardless, let’s move onto the subplots. 

MIchellee and E.B.

We meet Michelle’s daughter EB who just wants to live but her mom dosen’t let her have toys or shenaniagnas.. and comes off untetionally as really abusive. She’s SUPPOSED to be overprotective, but saying “I detect a hint of whimsy.. i’ll allow it” really just paints you as an overcontrolling psycho. Their headed on a trip and while EB wants to catch the chickaraffe for herself dosen’t have the time and her mom gives her a magnetic friendship bracelet.. that shackes her to her. Just... yeah Michelle has made me  hate her in one episode and she’s played by Diane Keaton. How do you do that? Hopefully she’ll get better but hearing about these two characters was part of the reason I procastinated so long. The other is my brain being kind of a forgetful swamp. 

Snerz: We meet Snerz himself who has someone bringing him the chickaraffe. Snerz is a cold, mean man with trump hair.. that in this case is a literal being he’s forcing to be his hair, has everything gold plated and keeps animals in a wall forcing them to stand on the other side and put their heads through like he mounted them because he’s a sociopath. And this is the refrence I meant. Snerz has many comparisons to trump, the hair, the gold platings, but it dosen’t really date the thing as Trump has been around since long before this and will sadly probably be around till his inetivitible jail sentence. But it’s not so overt or over the top that it takes you out of it it works. Okay one more. 

BAD GUYS:

Two mysterious agents, one old and one on her first mission, go to the zoo and interogate the guy running it holding him over a slapping turtle exhbit. Their after the chickaraffe and depart.. with the yougner agent accidently dropping him. Whoops. At least he gets to get hit into space by a turtle. Some of us never will “Sigh”

Final Thoughts:

This was an excellent first episode. It fleshes out the characters well, sets up the story without feeling too slow, and the show strkes the right ballance of being it’s own thing while still feeling Seuss. It’s a wubusoully wonderful good time and I recommend checking it out. I look forward to the rest of the series over the next year. 

Next on this blog: Sleepover time as Shadow into Light, my Lena Saberwing retrospective resumes. 

[thatwriterkei]

-Moment of Tangency-

Series Summary: When Y/N's favorite fictional characters come to life, a mystery ensues as a killer wreaks havoc in Bangor, Maine.

~

Chapter Summary: What started out as a sleepover with your best friend turned into a night of unexplainable events.

Warnings: cursing, underage pining if you squint, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Here's the first chapter of the big series I was talking about! I really hope you guys enjoy this, I've been working on this for about a month and it would mean the world to me if you have feedback and brought attention to this to those who would enjoy it too! I'm really excited to see how this goes.

~

Main Masterlist

MOT Masterlist

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Chapter One: The Beginning

"You will soon receive support from an unexpected source.." 

The red letters of your fortune stared back at you ominously.

"Hey, that's great timing huh?"

"Too soon, Marcus..Too soon."

A sheepish smile formed on his freckled face, "Sorry..Here, have another."

You shook your head, waving away the cookie. "I'll just stick to mine. I only have a little bit of room left for it." 

You took small bites, slowly indulging in the delicious treat, afraid of letting it go to waste with just two or three bites.

"I'm surprised your dad let me spend the night."

"Honestly, me too..I don't think he noticed that you're in the middle of transitioning."

"He probably just thinks I'm gay or something.."

You let out a choked laugh, "Maybe because you are."

"Hey, you can't tell me that Mr. Fisher isn't hot as fuck!"

"He isn't, oh my god!" You tried to finish the rest of your cookie without inhaling crumbs, suppressing the laughter building in your stomach.

"Have you seen his hands?! Y/N, I don't think you understand how much I adore him!"

"He's 20, Marcus!! Not to mention, he sucks at teaching physics."

"Hey, I didn't say my future man had to be smart."

"You're ridiculous."

"Yes, yes I am. Oh! Speaking of guys, any good gossip for the ship of a century?"

You could help but roll your eyes at his teasing, blood rushing to the apples of your cheeks.

"Kolby and I haven't spoken since last week. I don't think he likes me anyway. He's been talking to Heather more recently.." 

And, for some reason, you weren't too interested in him either. Yes, he was a nice looking, athletic guy but you just didn't care enough to go further than a 'hi, how're you?' with him.

"Well, his loss. You're a wonderful girl and it's a shame he's wasting your time with his boyish nonsense. Besides, he doesn't even wear watches like Mr. Fisher."

"I swear to god, if you mention him or watches one more time.."

"You're right, sorry," he held up his hands defensively before putting them down, "I just don't wanna see you get hurt, Y/N/N.."

"I know you're worried, Marcus, but I'm fine. It's our junior year, I don't think long-term relationships are supposed to happen for us until we're in like college."

"You never know..Anyway, what do you even see in him?"

You let out a sigh, sinking in the mounds of pillows and blankets that are laid astray on your bed.

"Umm..He's cute, without a doubt. His jokes are sometimes funny, depends on who he's around. He has a nice sense of style, I guess? I don't know..We've only known each other for a little over two months."

Marcus laid beside you, rolling to his side with a dopey grin plastered on his pale face. "And a lot could happen in two more months if you just talk to him. I promise, I won't even bother you in Algebra..Okay? Just trust me on this.."

You groaned but, nevertheless, agreed with a silent nod.

"Love shouldn't be this complicated.."

"Sometimes it is, sweetie..But only time can lead you to where you're supposed to be.."

"Yeah, I know...Since when did you become my therapist?" You let out a scoff.

"Since third grade! Now, c'mon, get off your lazy ass and let's do something cool!" 

He pulled at your limp arm once he stood up, dragging you to the floor and down the hallway towards the mini library your stepmom installed about a year ago; who has yet to use it.

"If you were looking for 'cool', you brought us to the wrong place." 

Your eyes scanned over the bookshelves, catching titles of famous works.

To Kill a Mockingbird

The Great Gatsby

War and Peace

Charlotte's Web

"You only have that perception because you hate her."

"Of course! Have you seen her?"

"Yeah, but this is still cool! You should take advantage of it while you can." 

Marcus released his hold from your ankle, scampering over to the section of the library where a red and white book was gleaming for attention.

"Oh my god! Miranda got the newest edition of IT?"

You stood up abruptly and made your way over. "She got what?!" 

"Holy shit, this is amazing! We haven't fangirled over this book since freshmen year."

"Oh yeah, our biggest obsession since One Direction." You laughed, taking the book out of his hands and running your finger over the textured title.

"Not gonna lie, the older cover looked better."

You rolled your eyes and ushered him over to the desk in the middle of the room. "Wait, let's see if they kept in that one part.."

"Which one? Does it have to do with Stanley? You had a major crush on his fictional ass." He teased, pulling up another chair beside yours.

"No no no, the one with Eddie and-Oh, I found it!"

Man, he had hated it when Richie called him Eds…but he had sort of liked it, too. It was something….like a secret name. A secret identity. A way to be people that had nothing to do with their parents’ fears, hopes, constant demands. Richie couldn’t do his beloved Voices for shit, but maybe he did know how important it was to creeps like them to sometimes be different people.

"Oh, I absolutely love this part..It's just, mwah, beautiful. Stephen King certainly knew what he was doing.."

"C'mon, let's go back to my room and reminisce." You took his arm and pulled him back to your bedroom.

~

You internally screamed at Marcus's onslaught recollection of memories.

"Oh, and that one time when you had a major attraction for-"

"Okay okay, that's enough reminiscing!!" You tossed the book at him.

"Aww, what? Feelin' embarrassed, sweetie?" He barely dodged the book, letting it bounce off your bed and onto the ground with a dull thud.

"Shut up.." You grabbed the nearest pillow and slightly smothered yourself with it.

The memories he continued to bring up brought back some nostalgia but looking back at it now made you cringe. You were practically grown up now, not 15 years old. 

"Okay, I'm sorry. But wouldn't it be cool if the losers club was real? Like actually around, in real life? Derry was based off of Bangor so it's more than likely you could find your own Stanley Uris." 

You cracked a smile at that and threw the pillow at him, situating yourself underneath the covers of your bed. "Yeah, yeah. I wish."

Marcus promptly pulled out his phone and checked the time, turning it over towards you  and flashing the bright light in your face. "Well, it's almost 11:11..Make a wish!"

"Seriously?" You deadpanned.

"C'mon, it wouldn't hurt!"

You sighed, sitting up on your elbows and closing your eyes. "Tell me when. You wish it too, okay?"

"Okay," some time passed, "now."

I wish the losers club was real..The entire gang. Every single one of them.

I wish I could blow Bill Denbrough.

You opened your eyes after you recited your wish a couple of times, sighing. You raised an eyebrow at Marcus, seeing him struggle to contain his laughter though the crimson red covering every inch of his face gave it away.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"I wished that I could blow Bill."

"Goddamnit, Marc."

~

It took about a half hour before the two of you could fully relax into a deep sleep but once you guys did, Marcus took up most of the bed. 

A heavy gush of wind pushed open your window, the cool air from outside blowing into your room. You snuggled a little more under the covers, face being buried into someone's back. They smelled so nice, a light hazelnut scent and freshly washed hair that reminded you of late night drives with your older cousin when you were younger; Just absolute nostalgia exuded from them. You felt your entire body relax against theirs, the warmth overtaking your slightly exposed skin from the nippy air coming through the window.

You hear a quiet groan from the opposite side of you, the noise causing you to stir from whatever you were dreaming about prior; It was a bit fuzzy.

"What the fuck? Dumbass window.." It was just Marcus.

You felt the weight from the bed disappear, his dull footsteps moving around the carpeted room as he shuts the window.

He turns around and gives one look over the room, his eyes partially open. He sees a couple of people in the room, the sight confusing him in his drowsy state.

"What the..?"

A mix of someone screaming bloody murder and a smoke alarm going off floods the room, echoing off the walls and throughout the house. Even Marcus wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors heard him too.

It takes just a few seconds before your sleeping mind can process the screeching, thus causing you to flip over to your other side and turning on the lamp. Your eyes are piercing with annoyance, though you were still a little concerned about your astonished friend across the room.

"Marc, what the hell?! What's wrong? What happened?"

You cast a glance around your room, trying to pick the oddball out.

"What the hell?!" You hear from behind you, the sudden noise alarming you and making you jump off the bed towards the ground. 

Your head whipped around so quickly you were sure it was the dizziness that made your imagination run wild from the sight. There laid a guy, around your age, with very curly light brown hair that just looked absolutely divine to twirl your fingers around.

Underneath you comes a strangled groan, almost upon impact. Looking below, you find a girl with fiery red hair in a bob style. You push yourself off of her and scoot away until your back hits Marcus's legs.

"Who the fuck is yelling-Oh, holy shit..!" You hear another slightly deep voice exclaim. 

Turning to your right sat five other guys with drastically different appearances, one after another coming to the realization that they had no fucking clue where they were.

The room grew quiet, fear growing in your eyes as you try to find a person to focus on but the thought only made you even more dizzy than before.

_________________

Let me know if you wanna be tagged for future chapters!! 💖

-Moment of Tangency- tags: @beauregard-s @demoniclust @deepestofwaters @grapesauze @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @soulwillower @19tozier @phrogtheguitarist @kindofokayimagines @stenbrozier @stenbrozier @brxken-heartsclub @fucking-greywater @theliterarymess

[ihopethisendswell]

Me and my OCs:

This isn't just about my pokemon oc's. No no no no. This is my journey of me having 0 Oc's ( not knowing what they where back then) to having far too many for my own good.

It started back in middle school, where it was one if those rare creative writing periods. We rarely get those, so of course I was excited. This was also when I started reading a lot of fantasy books, specifically YA novels. So my imagination ran wild, and I created my first oc.

Her name was ViraBlue. Yes that sounds like a online profile. Yes, she was very edgy. Yes , I tried to write a very bad story for her. And no, I'm not going to go into it. The only thing I will go into, is that I thought it would be cool for her to have a team. A five man band if you will. Teen Titans was my favorite show at the time, and I was getting introduced to anime AND I was reading wattpad due to my friend who suggested it to me. So this was spelled for disaster. Though I will say I realized my passion for creative writing. Even if my own writing was terrible.

I'm going to skip over all middle school and a bit of highschool to just say that my Oc's evolved. For example, ViraBlue was no longer her name. As of now her name is Elora. Also, her and her team are no longer just white people. Elora is a wonderful black woman such as myself, and honestly I feel FAR more attached to her than I did before. Also when remaking my ocs to be more diverse( both in race and in body diversity),I learned Asian is a umbrella term, so it doesn't just mean China or Japan. It also means Thailand, India, the Philippines, and much more! It really opened my eyes a lot to the world around me actually.

So yeah, you'd think that'll be it, right? WRONG. Cause theres more! A lot more. So much more I'm gonna but it on bulletin notes :)

Somewhere between highschool and middle school, I was very interested the pokemon protagonist, in terms of what they were like as individuals.

Now I know that that's very weird, given the majority of the protagonists are blank slates l, but two things. 1) Hilda's design has so much attitude that I REFUSE to believe she's a blank slate( eventhough she is) and 2) sun and moon brought back and older Red, with his own semblance of personality. I was so happy when it was announced.

But after searching the internet, and realizing the chance of me getting my preteen hands on the manga were low

So I did the only reasonable thing and make my own oc for each game and have them replace the player character as the main protagonist. Every main series game. Except the Kanto ones. I....I've had enough of kanto. I might change my mind later.

I'm actually almost done! All I have to do is finish USUM, and play emerald and heartgold and I'll be done.

I was so invested in this that I made myself a ( linear) timeline to keep track of things, as well as trying to find characters ages as a reference. Oh my god, that was a lot.

Then they're was that sequel idea that I had for my first Oc's story( the one with Elora). I didn't even finish the first story! Let alone start writing!

It didn't help that the setting of the story was a full erease universe and a timeskip into the future away from the original story. No I will not elaborate.

The main character's name is an ( sun?) elf Imani and she's tall ( duh) and really likes her history and her friends.

I then realized that these two stories where very important to me,so it would be best to work on them more to flesh them out......

Until I made a new set of characters for a supernatural thing. I literally just made a person,her brother, her friends, her brothers friend,her brothers love interest, and the siblings moms that aren't always there because one of them is basically the grim reaper but not really abd the other help with purifing damaged souls or something like that. Mind you, I have no specific story for them, except they live in New York and do stuff. That's it.

Now would be a good time to say that all of my ocs are LGBTQ+, and I don't mean this as a flex. I say this because they honestly have helped me trying to find myself. I still don't know what I am, or if my feelings are real, but I do know that these characters made me appreciate the change of it all. Like Elora and her team where all straight white people, and while there is nothing wrong with that, the more I changed, they've changed as well. Elora is now asexual biromantic. Now that's not what I'll exactly call myself, but it's kinda close. I think. Idk. Not to mention that I'm now more aware of the world around me, and the struggles people face( even if I'm still learning)

Anyway back to ranting.

CHOICE. OF. GAMES

How dare they exploit my love for character creation and choose your own story games!

Honestly, besides my own characters, and some outside factors, Choice of games made me aware that men liking men is real, and so is women liking woman, and that non-binary people exist!

For granted, I still didn't understand it at the time, but in Wayhaven chronicles I choose the men and women option and didn't look back.( I only played the demo cause I have no money)

Then I started playing a lot of wips, and somehow made 4 characters that reflect 4 play styles that I personally like playing.

Eventually they became so big in there own that I thought " these are the type of ocs that I'll just mess around with. No overarching story, just a good ol time" and for once I stuck by it.

Though for some reason I gave them a theme of the deck of suits????( Like diamond, heart, spades and clover).

There's Jamie( diamond). They're the shyest of the bunch. A lot more withdrawn and tend to freak out a lot( like me!) Though when the time comes, they're quite possible the bravest in the room. They come from a rich family cause why not. They're omnisexaul.

Then there's Edric( heart). Friends( and enemies that he likes) call him Eddy. He's very flirty and down to have a good time. He wears what he wants and does it in ✨ style ✨. He can wear a clown suit and make it look sexy. He's asexual panromantic.

Min( spades) ! I got the name from playing Smoke and Velvet: The Gnawing Chronicles ( by @roast-ifs ) cause I was to lazy to come up with a name and it just stuck. For the most part she's more stoic than the rest. Not entirely an introvert, but not extroverted either. She's try's to keep her emotions to herself, which for the most part she's very successful at, but it can get hard when it comes to people she cares about ( both platonically and romantically). In another wip called Secrets of Swatheforn ( by @swatheford ) she's actively trying to NOT acknowledge her feeling for one of the ROs ( Cass) so that's fun. Min is a trans women, and is bisexual ( women and non-binary people)

The last one actually is the least developed out of all of them. I know that they're non-binary, and that they represent clover. I actually haven't played as them as much as say Jamie or Edric has. So yeah. They exist.

So that my very long oc journey. I don't except my creative mind to stop, but I really have to many. Sooooo yeah! That's all.

[yikestripes]

Same old

A/N: Here you go anon!!! I hope you enjoy!!!!

Pairing: Bill x Reader

Request: May I request a fic with Bill Denbrough x reader that has Bill saving the reader from her worst fear that Pennywise is putting her through? (which can be something related to bullying or some sort of phobia). And I do think it’s more fitting as adults considering what happened in the second movie, but it’s also fine if they’re written younger—

(Y/D/J) = Your dream job

You swallowed hard, pulling up outside of the Chinese restaurant Mike had picked. You weren’t particularly prepared for the potential horrors waiting for you inside; you felt anxious as hell, being reunited with the people you’d called friends your entire childhood with barely any recollection of their names or virtually anything about them. As a matter of fact, you hardly remembered anything Mike had brought up during your brief phone call the night before about your childhood. You never had any reason to bring it up in conversation, or think about it for any other reason, so why would you remember? But then again, how could you forget? Isn’t that someone everyone does, forget? Especially when they grow up and move away? Apparently not.

You shook away the negative thoughts that swirled around your aching brain, and got out of your car as another car pulled into the parking lot. You paid no mind to the other car, too distracted by the restaurant looming overhead and what awaited you inside, when someone calling you from behind brought you back.

“(Y/N)?” You turned at the sound of your name being called by a distinctly deep, male voice, and were met with a man around your age squinting at you behind his glasses, seemingly confused. You stared for a second before it clicked; Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier stood before you, hands tucked sheepishly into his leather jacket, with his hair wild from running his fingers through it moments before.

“Oh my GOD! Richie!” You felt yourself running at him and attack him in a hug. He didn’t move at first, still slightly taken aback by having seen someone he hadn’t seen in 27 years look so painfully familiar but like a beautiful stranger. He moved to hug back but you’d already stepped back to get a better look at him.

“You look great, Trashmouth! What the hell!” You laughed and Richie’s awkwardness eased up as he smiled a bit.

“Look at you, you look gorgeous! What the fuck happened to me?” He glanced at his reflection in the glass of the window and shook his head a bit.

“Oh stop. When did you get in?” You asked, stuffing your own hands in your pockets, quickly becoming re-acquainted with the chilly air of Maine.

“Last night. You?”

“Earlier this afternoon. Have… have you seen anyone yet?”

“Nope. You?”

“Not yet. Wanna go in?”

“Not at all.”

“Alright, let’s do this.” You took your hands out of your pocket with a deep breath to calm your racing heart, and ripped the door open as Richie followed behind you.

The restaurant seemed nice and was brightly lit, which helped to relax you a little bit.

That might make it easier to recognize everyone.

The hostess led you and Rich to a private room aside from the main dining room, where 3 grown men near the fish tank, becoming readjusted to each other once again.

“Wow, take a look at these guys!” The shorter man in the red jacket said, attempting to relieve some of the tangible awkwardness.

You pressed your lips together as you made eye contact with the taller man, who seemed to be familiar in a different way than the others. His muscles contracted as he crossed his arms over his chest, his silver watch winking at you in the light. His blue eyes were bright, and full of hazy memory.

“Look at her TREMBLE girls! She’ll be a laughing stock by the end of the day!” Gretta Keene was cackling as you shook like a teapot, your back so far against the lockers that the locks were pressing into your back. You had no idea why Gretta was so terrifying, but she just was. There were no limits with her torment, and that certainly didn’t exclude you. She’d thrown wet trash on you, poured paint in your backpack in art class, and hid your clothes after gym class. She made you miserable at any opportunity, purely because she knew it bothered you; plus you were an easy target, you had no one to protect you. She had all the power. Especially since she found your sketchbook, filled with embarrassing drawings of one Bill Denbrough.

“Oh s-shut up, G-gretta.” The all-too-familiar lanky boy stepped out from behind Gretta, meekly followed by a few other boys you’d recognized from your classes through the years, who were always with Bill. Gretta whipped her ponytail around to look at who’d interrupted her fun, allowing you to sneak a bit closer to the boys.

“Aw would you look who it is, Stuttering Bill Denbrough! Coming to protect your little girlfriend, huh?” Bill’s blue eyes hardened, ignoring Gretta’s comment.

“Just leave her alone, she never did anything to you.” Bill crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah? Or what?”

“O-or I'll r-r-remind the w-wh-whole school a-about how R-Ri-Richie p-p-pulled up your skirt d-during the cl-class play i-in 4th grade.” Bill smirked as Gretta’s face turned a shade of pink.

Richie snickered as he adjusted his glasses, clearly still amused by the memory. Eddie glared at him and Richie shrugged.

“You win this round, Denbrough,” Gretta glared at him, clearly trying but failing to intimidate him. “Next time, Stuttering Bill won’t be around to save your ass, you little slut.” Gretta lunged at you and you slammed back into the lockers, trying to hide your wince after hitting a lock particularly hard.

She sashayed away as you recovered, rubbing the lower part of your back.

“Thank you.” You whispered to Bill, casting your eyes down. You were extremely shy, especially after Gretta’s torment had begun. You looked back up and Bill smiled kindly at you, extending his hand to help you up.

“I-I’m Bill D-D-Denbrough,” You shook his hand with a shy grin. “I-I know w-we’ve had c-cl-classes together f-for a few y-y-years, b-but I d-don’t thi-think we’ve e-ever spoken.”

“I’m (Y/N).” Bill nodded.

“I’m Richie!”

“Edward Kaspbrak, but you can call me Eddie.” “Call him Eddie Spaghetti, he LOVES that!”

“I told you to stop calling me that!”

“Alright Eds, have it your way.”

“I hate Eds too! It’s Eddie!”

“Calm yourself, Eduardo.”

“RICHIE!” Richie snickered again as Eddie crossed his arms, huffing in frustration.

“I”m Stanley, Stanley Uris.”

“Oh, yes! We have math together.” You smiled at the curly-haired boy. He sat behind you at math, always answering the teacher’s questions.

“Bill?” You whispered, frowning slightly. Bill broke out into a grin and approached you slowly, memories streaming back.

“(Y/N).” He said almost breathlessly, pulling you into a tight hug. Your knees almost buckled beneath you at his familiar scent and feeling of him holding you so close and so tight.

“I can’t believe it’s been so long, I just, I can’t believe it…” You trailed off, an eruption of memories causing your previous headache to return. You grimaced slightly, and shook it away, not allowing something so silly to ruin your evening.

“I know. It’s been what, 18 years? 17? Right after college, I believe, is when we last saw each other.” Bill took a step back, suddenly feeling like he was back in high school with the way his emotions were running so rampant.

“Something like that. How have you been?? What’s been going on? What do you do?” You became readjusted quickly, the other Loser’s looking on with a familiar feeling, as if they’d seen the same sort of interactions between the two of you. As a matter of fact, they had. When you were all much, much younger, and a lot more unable to speak your feelings.

You and Bill caught up very quickly as you awaited the other’s arrivals, one by one. You learned he followed his heart and became a writer, and you’d actually read a few of his books! Contrary to popular belief, you thought his endings were not that bad. He’d been married for a few years, but it never quite worked out, so they ended up divorcing on civil terms. He found out you hadn’t married; never quite finding the right person. Little did you know, the right one had been only a few hours away, subconsciously writing your personality into book characters. You’d become (Y/D/J), traveling the world like you’d always wanted to, and settling down in a place that was the complete opposite of Derry. Not that you’d remembered what it was like in Derry, but once you returned, you shuddered at how much the place had affected you.

You left the Chinese restaurant feeling a heavy weight on your shoulders, weighing down on you like never before. Between finding out about why Stanley hadn’t been at dinner, the fortune cookie massacre, and your feelings for Bill all coming rushing back at once, there was almost nothing keeping you from leaving. Almost.

“I-I’m gonna go w-w-with Mikey to the library, you o-okay to get back by yourself?” Bill asked, mentally cursing for allowing his stutter to rear its head.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I’m probably gonna go to bed and mull things over.” You rubbed your hand up and down his arm, watching as he untensed a little bit. Your touch was always enough to relax Bill, especially back in the days after the first battle.

You slept over his house pretty often, sneaking in and out of his window on the days you were afraid his parents would think you were spending too much time there. Half the time when you would wake up in the middle of the night by yourself, usually after a Gretta or Pennywise induced nightmare, and sneak over to Bill’s and climb into bed with him; your safe space. He would crack an eye open, smile, and open his arms to you. You climbed in and wiggled up next to him as he held you close, a smile gracing both of your faces.

“I’ll see you back there, then.” He smiled at you and his hand lingered on your shoulder for just a moment, before joining Mike in his car. You made it back to the motel without incident, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

The following morning, you woke up and found yourself shivering for the first time in years; and you knew it wasn’t because of any sort of draft. Along with the horrid memories that poisoned your childhood, the ones that remained untouched by the horrors you experienced also recurred. It was almost as if you were reverting to the person you were while living in Derry, complete with your need for Bill Denbrough to protect you.

“It’s only going to work if we split up,” Mike said, glancing at each Loser.

“No way, statistically speaking we’re much better off if we remain together as a group!” Eddie said, nervousness lacing his already edgy voice.

“W-we can’t. You w-won’t b-be able to find y-your tokens, it’s a sort o-of… personal journey. E-each of us h-has to par-partake.” Bill said, clapping a hand on Mike’s shoulder.

You shrugged and started climbing the ladder, squinting in the filtered light of the Barrens as you walked forward, feeling propelled by some unknown force. Just as Mike had advised, you all split up. You’d crossed paths with Bill a bit later in the day, who looked extraordinarily pale. Assuming he’d already grabbed his token by the look on his face, you just pulled him into a hug.

You pulled away with a smile, quickly realizing your mistake. A mangled sort of Gretta Bowie stood in front of you, hair matted and her typical blue eyeshadow was replaced by something red and gooey, assumably blood.

“Did you miss me, freak?” A voice that was only partially human seemed to be coming from Gretta, even though her mouth didn’t move.

You stood in frozen horror, mouth agape.

“I missed you, I thought you’d never come back to talk with me.” The creature that resembled your former tormenter remarked. “No one ever wants to talk with me.” The creature flipped its matted hair. “Look at you TREMBLE! The whole school is gonna know about your pathetic little crush on Bill Denbrough, the boy with the stutter. You know he never loved you, right? He thought you were a freak, like the rest of us. Just a quiet, little freak. He only pretended to like you, because he’s such a nice guy. Look at you now! All grown up and the same little crush on Big stuttering Bill Denbrough!” Gretta cackled in the most sickeningly familiar way, and you dropped to your knees in tears.

It’s not real.

It’s not real.

It’s not real.

It’s real.

You felt like you were going to throw up, all the anxiety and shame rushing back at you all at once.

Bill had crossed the street near his old neighborhood, still slightly unnerved by his encounter with Pennywise. Subconsciously, he had been hoping to run into you on the hunt for your token, looking for some sort of excuse to see you. He hated the idea of the whole group splitting up, despite the visions Mike had forced him to see the previous night. He knew it was the only way but the reality of the situation sat heavy like a rock in his stomach; he couldn’t stand the idea of losing another loved one to the goddamn clown that had been terrorizing him since he was just 13 years old.

An ear piercing scream rang out suddenly, breaking Bill from his thoughts. A very familiar scream.

“(Y/N)!” Bill whipped around wildly, looking for some sort of direction to go in. Another scream rang out and he followed the sound to Jackson Street, where he found you on your hands and knees, screaming unintelligible words. It was almost as if you were screaming at someone, not just something.

“(Y/N)!” He yelled again. You hadn’t heard him, and just kept on screaming your head off. Suddenly you stopped, and curled up in a ball, sobbing uncontrollably. You were clutching something to your chest that Bill couldn’t quite see as he tried to ease you into sitting up.

“H-hey, it’s okay. It’s me.” You looked up at him, your face completely tear stained with mascara running down your cheeks. Bill’s heart clenched a little bit.

“What h-h-happened?” You jumped into his arms, and began sobbing all over again. “Shhh, it’s o-over now. T-the clown c-c-can’t hurt you any-anymore.” He whispered into your hair, trying to get you to relax a little bit. Your heavy breathing eased as your breaths became more even, and you sat back on your heels.

“It was Gretta.” You said, your throat feeling raw from screaming. “She was telling me all these horrible things, and I-I just lost it.” You hugged the book tight to your chest.

“Well,” Bill’s eyes darted from the book to you. “At least you got your artifact.” He smiled his same old smile, making you feel a little bit warm inside. That smile could make anything seem a little bit brighter.

[where-fading-princesses-live]

double standards

So I was watching this very interesting video last night...  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Di_R6Md-L80

And around 6:43, he talks about the classic Mary Sue trope and how, if you have a male character in a work of fiction who is presented as equally perfect and free of flaw (in other words, a Gary Stu), the criticism is less harsh towards him, or in some cases, nearly nonexistent. Some might even say he's a total bad-ass and how dare you find fault in someone so impossibly cool? But if they're female? Good god, it's bad writing and anti-feminist. People seem to be generally way more accepting of male archetypes who fall under this trope than the likes of their female counterparts, hence double standards. You see this all the time in action flicks for instance. Arnold Schwarzenegger films, anyone? James Bond whomst??? But suddenly you have Rey who's arguably not better or worse than the likes of those characters, and yet, the general opinion of her is... kind of unfair. Understandable, nonetheless... I'm not a fan of her either but at the same time, I don't think we should judge her harsher than male characters who have similar treatments. Male characters like that shouldn't be excused. I'm not saying Stus are NEVER pointed out or criticized, but this guy does have a point. There seems to be a much more airtight scrutiny surrounding female characters of this nature and it might be due to internalized misogyny or ''something something quantum quantum...'' Granted, I don't think Stus/Sues should be a widely accepted overused theme regardless, and that should be blamed on poor writing rather than sexism. Whether male, female, both, neither and everything in-between, characters need to be well-written, well-developed, believable and nuanced and blah blah blah. I'm not really here to talk about that. What I want to point out is double standards. And yes, this is sexism.

Take Rick and Morty for example. I'm not going to get too deep into it, but the fandom seems to praise the shit out of Rick who can easily be labelled a Stu because as we're constantly reminded, he's supposedly the ''smartest man in the universe''. Now, when you create a character who is a self-professed genius and placed on a pedestal by the writers, it can definitely come off Stu-ish. It's not that Rick unrealistically lacks flaws... no, this man is LOADED with flaws, but the fact that he's a literal badass who can get out of almost any sticky situation... well, like I said, there's more to his character than that and I'm not going to get into it, but Rick rarely, if ever, fails. Sometimes there's moments of vulnerability and the fact that he keeps trying to change but just slips back into his old ways, that makes him much more 3-dimensional than a Stu... but you know, despite his narcissism, his sarcasm, his alcoholism and mistreatment of his family and his incapability of maintaining healthy long-term relationships, he still has a limitless ability to create, a superior intelligence level even when compared to higher lifeforms on other planets, enabling him to outsmart entire government organizations and civilizations spanning galaxies, well... you can see where I'm going with this. There's no person on this planet like that who exists irl, even among the smartest of history's greatest men. Yes, it's a cartoon, it's meant to be far-fetched. Yes, it's sci-fi so we're expected to suspend our disbelief. Yes, there's a reason for it. Yes, it drives the core of the story. But even if there's times where it seems Rick will definitely fail, he never truly has an ALL IS LOST MOMENT because the writers conveniently write him out of most of his troubles, because the series has to keep going (obviously). Basically, I never feel a real sense of danger when Rick is in trouble because I know he'll get out alive (if not, there's infinite amount of Ricks and infinite amount of realities to replace him-- not to mention he can replace his family members as many times as he fucks up which became the show's laziest overused point in my opinion). Rick's not a bad character. Far from it. That's not what bothers me.

What bothers me is his daughter, Beth. Okay, no, she doesn't specifically bother me. The way the fandom sees her bothers me. Now Beth is undoubtedly cut from the same cloth. You know what they say, like father like daughter. And yet... the fandom fails to recognize her as a potentially great character, just as equally flawed and brilliant minded as Rick. She's a genius horse surgeon in a failing marriage. (I will go out on a limb and say she's more well written than Rick *ducks from flying tomatoes*.) I mean, her story is literally almost the same as her father's, her flaws are just as realistic--in fact, she's probably more realistic because she's not the ''smartest so and so of the godforsaken universe'' which is just as bad as annoyingly cringey The Chosen One trope. She's just Beth. A terribly smart woman with abandonment issues and trust issues and all other kinds of issues, but you can't blame her given her upbringing. By no means perfect or good at everything she does. Or loved (or hated) by everyone or hailed a genius by the entire flipping universe. You can't even call her a Sue. Yet some of the fandom chooses to label her a b*tch for whatever reason... even though her characterization is near identical to D*ck, er I mean Rick (e.g. she drinks just as much when she hits an all time low). She's just as awful with just as many fuck ups yet she's more sympathetic due to the way Rick raised her (or didn't raise her)... yet there's a double standard because somehow, because she's a female, she's a worse character than Rick, who's a male and apparently awesome (brownie points because he's one of the the two titular characters so you *can't* hate him, it's against the law). If Beth were Rick's son instead of his daughter, I wonder if the general opinion would be the same or not. If Rick were a woman.... he would be Rey, now would he? Don't deny it.

Then there's Ed Edd n' Eddy. As much as I love praising the hell out of this show, I also like to crap on it. There's no shame in pointing out flaws in your faves. But this isn't so much the flaw in the actual show and the actual writing, but again, I'm taking a jab at the fandom and how they perceive male characters v. female characters.

Sarah. Sarah is almost exactly like the female Eddy. She's little and bratty and loud af. She's probably the most hated character on the show (even Jimmy and Kevin are more liked than she is). I used to not like Sarah either but I never really asked myself WHY. When I compared her to Eddy, I realized that they're literally, almost the same character and I have no real reason to hate her (yeah yeah a lot of the cul-de-sac kids share eerily similar traits to the Eds and it was no accident; it makes you wonder why the kids hate the Eds so much if they ostracize them for the very same quirks they have, and it's not just the scams--it's because kids at this age are terribly insecure about themselves and tend to make fun of more vulnerable others who share their flaws to make themselves feel better. I was bullied in middle school for acne by... wait for it.... kids who had acne. GASP. Imagine that. So my point is, we often despise traits in others we despise in ourselves, not to mention we don't perceive ourselves the way others perceive us, hence, the Looking Glass Self theory. Basically, EEnE is deeper than it appears on the surface, and I've analyzed this before during those EEnE Appreciation Month things, so I won't bother repeating myself, but that's the basic idea in a nutshell.)

Ahem, before I get off on a further tangent, let me reiterate my main point. Sarah IS Eddy. No, not really, but yes, kinda really. Her voice can be irritating and grates on your nerves at times, she's bossy and controlling of her friends (I honestly love her friendship with Jimmy, and how they both defy stereotypical gender norms, and how protective she is of him, but there's times where she pushes his buttons), and though she doesn't hold Jimmy back from finding his own independence apart from her the way Eddy sometimes does to Ed and Edd who he treats them more as cronies in the first season (for instance, Sarah doesn't raise objection to Jimmy joining the Urban Rangers and finding his own identity and making other friends besides her, I mean they don't have to be glued to the hip and she damn well knows that), and yet... the way she treats Ed... well... even if Eddy stands up for Ed against Sarah and grows increasingly annoyed with the way she walks all over him... Eddy ain't much better, pumpkins. DON'T ACT LIKE HE'S BETTER THAN HER. Sure, male characters *always* get excused for this kind of behavior, but if it's a girl, she's automatically a mega beyotch with no redeeming qualities. If she's a b, he's a b, and they both have potential to redeem their flaws.  They should be treated equally.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE Eddy. He's one of my favorite characters. OPE. And there's the tea.

Most people LOVE Eddy (not everybody, and if you don't, that's fine; you don't even have to like Sarah, but I have a case). Despite the fact that he's bossy, sarcastic, rude, selfish, self-absorbed, over confident, flamboyant, vain, screams with a voice that makes your ears bleed.... well, gee, didn't I just describe Sarah? Sarah loves make-up clothes and hair just as much as Eddy loves speedos and deodorant and cheap shampoo and dressing to the nines for Jonny's Arbor Day Party. Hell, Sarah had a complete meltdown because she lost her freakin' earring! Eddy flipped the fuck out when Ed lost his porno mags. THEY'RE. THE. SAME. FUCKING. PERSON. (and it's why they butt heads but that's a topic for another day, because you know, you can't fight fire with fire... you can argue the same for Eddy and Kevin)

Yet, the fandom HATES Sarah and LOVES Eddy. Probably not cuz she's female, but aside from the Kankers, the girls (and Jimmy, poor Jimmy) seem to receive harsher judgment towards them as characters by fans, even if they have similar traits to the boys. I'm sure it's because Sarah isn't as well written or developed a character as Eddy (who's a main cast member, actually the driving force of the show, the primary lead) BUT that's not to say Sarah doesn't have her moments of vulnerability or moments of total bad-assery that makes her.... well... interesting  if given the chance. (In BPS, she beats the living shit out of the Kankers and devises a plan for her and Jimmy to escape their enslavement, one of my all-time favorite scenes in the entire movie; not to mention she beats the crap out of EVERYONE on the show and it's usually, not always, well-deserved but it's entertaining nonetheless: cat fights with Nazz, even beating up Rolf who's twice her size, etc.). The fact that everyone is afraid of this little girl??? (maybe except Kevin). I mean, this chick is fearless, and yet, she still has moments of weakness. That's 3-dimensional if you ask me. She's more than just the bratty little sister. I didn't used to like her, but after studying her more, I've come to appreciate her. There's nothing about her that makes her an inherently ''bad'' female character. She plays a role, as do they all, and she plays the role perfectly.

Last but not least: Nazz. Everyone's favorite (I'm kidding). I don't know if the fandom hates Sarah or Nazz more. I can understand the hate towards Sarah, but Nazz seems even less just. Nazz is like one of the nicest people on the show and never really does anything to warrant the hate (until the infamous flanderized Season 5-- don't judge me, I love S5 regardless)... but even then she's still nice, if a bit artificially so. I mean, she becomes a bit of a Mean Girl (they all kinda do; it must be how the clique school environment changes a person), but she still goes out of her way to be inclusive towards everyone (even if she can be spotted in the background laughing at the Eds along with the others at times, but they're ALL guilty of this... ya'll out here lovin' on Rolf or Jonny or whatever, and pretending like they're saints, but they laugh at our precious Ed boys too. Also, precious Ed boys are not complete angels either and sometimes they need a good ass whooping or two. I mean, they're just kids. Kids are assholes). She's not a bad person though; she roots for all the contestants during the Spelling Bee. She personally appoints Ed to be the mascot of the football team. I can go on and on. She's just nice. Maybe that's why fans hate her. Because nice is boring. Nice is... personality-less. I don't think Nazz has as much eccentricity as the other characters, obviously, but she, too, has her moments (she yodels, for starters). She's not entirely lacking in personality. Sure, she may have as much personality as a board of wood (actually, I take that back, Plank has MORE personality than her XD) buuuut.... Idk, I like Nazz. I didn't at first either. But even if it irks me a bit that she's reduced down to the unattainable love interest and not much else, she, too, isn't an inherently ''bad'' female character. She has the least development of all the cast members, but she fills her role effectively. Without her, the show would feel like it's missing something. Even if she doesn't appear as often.

What bothers me the most is that she plays the same part as Kevin, only female. Kevin's the quintessential jock/bully popular leader of the kids, the King of the Cul-de-sac if you will (self-appointed or otherwise, just don't tell Eddy I told you). Nazz is like his Homecoming Queen, even if they're not an official couple (they spend the whole series as a ''will they or won't they Ross and Rachel'') and though not the leader of the kids collectively, she does sometimes lead the girls (or really, Sarah and Jimmy), while Kevin leads the boys (Jonny and Rolf, excluding the Eds). AND YET Kevin, though sometimes hated by fans, isn't nearly *as* hated as Nazz. Yet, he has as much personality as her (sorry, I love you, Kev). I mean, THEY'RE. ALMOST. THE. SAME. CHARACTER. Good looking, sporty, popular... He's also the least developed character of the male cast. Plank has more development than him and that's kinda sad... y'know... getting beat by a board of wood. (But Plank comes alive through Jonny, so basically Jonny is split into two separate characters; Plank reveals aspects of Jonny that he won't reveal to us, and vice versa. I can talk about Jonny all day, but let's not, because this is about Nazz.) I mean, again, Nazz and Kevin both have their moments of vulnerability and it's not like they're NEVER interesting; I beg to differ. Kevin, anyway, has two great episodes that revolve directly around his insecurities and anxieties and deep-seated fears, some deep shit I wish we got to see with Nazz. But instead we got BPS and it was hands-down the best character development we ever saw from her in the entire show's run. It's sad it had to be the end, because if they gave us more BPS Nazz throughout the series, she would have been a well rounded 3-d character.

Nazz is angry AF in BPS and I live for angry Nazz. We can kind of feel for her here because Kevin is such a dunce. She's finally reciprocating his feelings and he decides to turn the other way.... for his goddamn inanimate bike. It's something Jonny would do, but Kev always loved that bike... I guess more than Nazz, and it's one of the greatest love triangles ever. Phantom of the Opera don't interact. Ahem. My point is, Nazz finally displays more personality here-- like actual fucking emotion beyond just being nice and pretty (sure, we've seen her get angry sometimes, or freaked out other times, but never like this). Buuuuuut the fandom sees otherwise. They hated Nazz even MORE after this, despite that.... the male characters in BPS, like Rolf who punches through a tree and Edd and Eddy who go at it all piss and vinegar in an actual fist fight, are angry fucking men, and they're allowed to be angry and not Nazz because...? They have more testosterone and she doesn't? Because penises are more justified than vaginas? Oops, no, sorry, women can only be angry when they're on their periods, my bad. I mean, everybody's out in this freezing cold swamp, having a break down, at their wit's end, reaching their ''all is lost'' moment... yet, Rolf and the Eds are allowed to vent their frustrations on each other or on the surrounding environment. But not Nazz. No, Nazz is being a b*tch because.... Kevin's paying more attention to a non-living machine than to her. And he sat flat on his skinny ass and didn't help her when she needed him the most. And she didn't have to tag along with him but she did. She didn't have to put up with his cold aloofness but she did. And even if she was trying to catch his attention and flirt with him at inappropriate times she wasn't entirely useless. It was HER idea to find Eddy's brother. If she hadn't suggested it, he'd still be riding around in circles chasing his shadow. Yeah, okay, she's a total b*tch.

God forbid women have emotions. God forbid women cry or get frustrated. Then they're b*tches. But if they're pretty and nice and perfect and popular, they're Sues. Yet, male characters with the same traits.... get lighter sentences. No one even bats an eye. Boys will be boys am I right?

I can go on but yeah, don't say double standards are total BS. In this essay I will

[har-rison-s]

like father, like daughter?

Whereyoustand: would you do a Richie tozier X daughter!reader? I don't know if that's out of your comfort zone but maybe Richie's daughter meeting all the losers for the first time. sorry if you're not taking requests and I read it wrong but if you are please take your time and feel free to decline. 

A/N: Nooo baby it's completely okay! Richie x daughter!reader makes me melt, omg… Let's guess why I'd love his arms around me any day I feel like crying… Hmmm… My daddy issues, you say? Haha, you're being silly. I've been dying to write this. You're one of my favourite followers, babe Whereyoustand ;) So, let's do this! I'm watching stanley edits while writing this, so forgive any sentimentality slipping into this one-shot. By the way, did you guys hear the rumor about Stan and Eddie dying? Who's the crazy sadist that spread it? Couldn't be me… Losers are a little out of character in this one, I'm so sorry. Happy reading!

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gif credit goes to owner, which isn’t me!

How do you even say hello to them? Your father's known these people since childhood, they're his best friends. They're the most important people to him in the world, just as important as you. And how do you not screw up with a first impression?

There must be hopes built up for you and what you're like... If you're like your father or not, how much you two are actually alike. But you're not what they're worried about. They don't even know you're coming! Their main excitement is about Richie himself. What's he like? Has he changed? How much of him do they actually remember, and how much of that is true?

Truth is, you're not like your father. You haven't inhabited the restless humor or the ability to improvise in general. What if they don't like you because of it? What if his friends want you to be the same, even expecting that of you? And you don't meet their standards…

You really wish your mother was here. She'd be your anchor, she'd make you worry less. But how would you know? She left when you were five. You hadn't become the person you are today by the age of five, or even a person, so you couldn't have known her at all and there's not much to remember, to go on. Only thing you remember is that she was kind. And you built a fairy-tale around that single feature. What else would there be to do?

Perhaps that's why you've grown into more of a quiet person. That makes you different from your dad Richie. He adores it, honestly, having not the feeling of looking into a mirror each time he sees you. He can't say you remind him of your mother, either, you're not a replica of her, either. You're like… a mix between them. Somewhere in a grey area that is what Richie isn't and what your mother is, is a little spot called 'Y/N'. 

You, Y/N, are still sitting in your dad's second-most expensive car (the expense of it makes you wonder why he'd bring such a car to a place like this), outside of a restaurant you're both supposed to meet his old friends at. Richie's standing outside, leaning against this horribly pricey car, patiently waiting for you to come out, when you're ready. He's surprised it's not the other way around - you waiting for him to get out. He supposes that his own sentiment will come at some point. He already felt longing and wonder while driving through some of Derry's streets.

Your eyes watch a woman with striking red hair and a man in a denim jacket interact in front of the restaurant's entrance. They embrace, and then they enter the building. Huh. Maybe they're two of dad's friends. Maybe. You sigh and untwist your sweaty hands from the knot they've formed. You run them over your denim thighs, fast at first, but you slow your movements and calm yourself down. You think you're ready to go out there and face whatever. Why does this feel like some big step, some big life-changing step now? Why does it feel like the world's stopped spinning suddenly? 

Try to shake the feeling, it's only dad's friends. It's not the end of the world. You're gonna be fine. Your hand pushes the car door open before you could protest against it, and when you step out of the car, your father turns his head around to see you. His eyebrows are raised, his eyes locking with yours through his glasses, and he walks around the car to reach you. Your eyes meet the ground out of shy habit, but a second later you feel Richie's hand on your shoulder firmly, comfortingly. You look up then, and are met with your father's concerned eyes.

“You okay, kiddo?” He asks, and you, out of another habit, nod. He knows it's false, you're so worried he can see right through you. “Want a hug?” Another nod. You feel yourself embraced by your father not a second later and you sigh against his chest. “They're gonna love you,” Richie says, “I know it even though I barely remember them.” 

You laugh with him. “Thanks, dad.” You say.

“No problem, baby.” Richie says. “And, hey, I know it's a stupid thing to say, but don't worry so much. I should be the worried one, fuck's sake, what if they've changed too much to like me anymore? Pshht.” He makes you giggle again. “What I'm trying to say is,” your father's hand moves soothingly over your back, “you're perfect even if you're not like me. Alright?”

You nod against his chest, and you both pull apart. 

“Now, let's head in. I'm actually excited for this.” Richie admits, looking upon the restaurant. He sighs, looks back at you and gives out his hand. You eye it for a second, but then take it with no further hesitation.

Your father's grip is tight, and you get the quiet thought at the back of your head that he's afraid. You look up at him for a few seconds, thankful he's not looking back at you. You don't like to be caught in the middle of your analysis, even if it is your father you're analyzing. And you truly see fear in his eyes. Just the smallest amount, but enough to be real. 

All six of them, as Richie had said, are sure enough standing in the restaurant's booth and conversing amongst themselves. The pair you saw outside are a part of this group, you were right. Wow, this surely is something. A lot of friends. Even for your father's warm and energetic persona, six friends are a bunch. Your wide eyes quickly switch between them all, not knowing who to focus on, wondering which name belongs to who. 

One of them, a man with dark, curly hair dressed in a checkered button-up (people still wear those?) turns to you, having felt your curious gaze on him and his friends. His face is laced with nervousness, similar to yours, and from your point of standing, you notice small marks on the sides of his face. The man on his left, dressed in a flannel and sporting some grey strands of hair already, turns to you, too. But a faint smile appears on the first man's face when he's looked longer at you. He might have an idea or two about who you are, because you certainly look the part.

“Hey, who's this?” He asks his friends, his hand faintly pointing at you from a low angle. You gulp when the rest of the adults turn to look at you. They spot both Richie and you, and there's a gasp from the woman with red hair and one from the guy who looks not a few inches taller than yourself. His gasp is sharper and deeper, almost a panicked one, you think.

Your father breathes an exasperated sigh, taking in all his old friends. “Fuck. You lot look great.” Is what he says first, and his friends are silent. Simply because they're too shocked to even laugh, not sure if they're right to. “Hello.” Richie says and gives a little wave. His friends are still in shock, and now Richie notices why - their eyes are fixed upon his offspring. She must be in a huge panic now.

He puts an arm around your shoulders, squeezes tight and smiles at his friends. “Right. This is my daughter.” He says. His friends' responses mix together since they speak at once, and Richie can't tell them apart. “Y/N, meet my friends.” 

Richie guides you the few steps towards the curly-haired man. You extend your right arm, as does he, and though your dad's embrace gives you comfort, it also limits your movements. “Stanley Uris. Nice to meet you.”

“Y/N Tozier.” You say, and suddenly saying your birth name, which you've had for a whole of seventeen years, gives you pride and you feel it through your whole body. Your face lights up, you give Stanley a smile that stretches to your ears and your cheeks flare with a subtle rosy blush. 

“Very nice to meet you, Y/N.” Stanley says, shaking your hand firmly and smiling at you, nodding his head. Looking into Stanley's eyes, you can feel they're searching your face and looking you over, clearly finding features you share with Richie. He, your father, does let go of you eventually, when you're done shaking hands with Stanley, and goes to greet his old pal Stanley now. As you walk over to the flannel guy, you hear your father and Stanley embrace and laugh together. 

“Hi, I'm B-B-Buh-Bill Denbrough.” The man speaks first and gives his arm for you to shake, which you do. It takes a second to remember his name, and now you recognise the stuttering best-selling author your dad told you about on the plane. “You luh-look a lot like R-Richie.” Bill says. “Your father, I me-mean.” 

“No worries, he's Richie to me, too.” You say in response. “We keep it formal in the Tozier house-hold.” You surprise yourself with a voice imitation of some business man breaks out of your own throat. Naturally breaks out, and you have to take a moment to realise what's happened. As natural as breathing.

Bill Denbrough laughs. “I see he's puh-passed the Voices down t-to you, as well.” He says. You only shrug, generally awestruck by what broke out of you seconds ago. 

“I'm Mike Hanlon.” Comes from the man standing a little behind Bill. You have to look up at this man, he's taller than the previous two, as tall as your dad. You smile at Mike, recognising his name.

“You're the one who called dad.” You say, then, giving your hand to Mike for shake, but he surprises you with a hug. You're a little shocked and frozen, at first, but you don't mind the hug. Makes you feel a little easier, makes you feel welcomed into the company. 

“Glad to meet you, Y/N.” Mike says to you. How strange. Have we met before? You want to ask him, but you decide against it. 

“Glad to finally meet someone as tall as my dad.” You say instead and Mike, Bill and the remaining friends to greet laugh. You pull away from Mike Hanlon's grip and are met with quite the fitness guy. Oh, wait, that's the one in the denim jacket. You could have sworn your first impression of him was that of a cowboy, his denim jacket and leather boots sure make for the part. 

“I'm Y/N.” You say, finally speaking first, before the man can introduce himself. He chuckles and shakes your extended arm.

“I'm Ben Hanscom.” He tells you with a warm smile on his face. His name rings a bell and you look for which bell is that. Have you heard him on the radio? The news? On Twitter?

“Wait a second,” you say, turning your head slightly to the side, “aren't you the guy who designed the famous building in London?”

Ben Hanscom nods, a little embarrassed, and there's even a blush on his cheeks. “That's me, yeah.” He confirms. You chuckle.

“Don't worry, I don't want an autograph.” You shake your head. Thankfully, Ben laughs, and lets you move closer to the woman with red hair. Before you greet her, though, you look over your shoulder to see your dad. He's embracing both Bill and Mike, and he looks very happy doing so, he looks very happy to meet them. Stanley's already choosing his seat at the round table.

Whispers from the near-by conversation catch your attention, and you listen in for a second.

“R-Richie, man, all due respect, buh-but I don't think hav-having Y/N here is safe. For her. F-For you.”

“Yeah, man, you should have left her with her grandmother or something.”

“Long story short, fellas, her mother's out the picture and all grandparents are dead. Yes, I could have arranged some activities for her while I'm gone, but I… I don't know. I didn't think she'd be safe alone at home or anywhere without me, if I'm here. You know?” Your father speaks much too quickly, he's nervous, he's afraid.

“That could be, yeah.”

“So I figured I better take her with me, so I can keep an eye on her and actually keep her safe.”

“You-you better. It's very duh-dangerous for her to be here.”

“Oh, like we're safe in a durable bubble here, Big Bill.”

But you turn your head to face the red-haired woman as if you hadn't heard anything. And you give her your best smile.

“My, you're a pretty thing.” She says and also pulls you into a hug, just like Mike did. You have no time to notice the bruises around her wrists. “You look like a doll, just like your father.” She tells you and then pulls back, but still holds your shoulders and runs her eyes over your features. It makes you nervous, and your eyes look lower, to her shoulders. “I'm Beverly.” She finally tells you.

“I'm Y/N.” You say and she nods. 

“A very pretty name. Are you sure you're Richie's kid?” Beverly teases, and you can only chuckle. “He wanted to give all his kids, like, Star Wars or Lord Of The Rings names. I wouldn't allow him to name my kids back then.”

“Sounds like mine's the best choice.” You respond. This is news to you about your father. And you realise you'd gladly hear a lot more about what he was like as a kid. He's never talked about his childhood, never told a funny story from that time, and it's only now occurred to you. Sure, you've wondered what your father was like when he was your age, but asking never crossed your mind. What you don't know is that your father didn't remember his childhood until today. And you're excited to hear stories.

“Hey, kiddo,” says the man short in height, who is also the last one you have to meet out of Richie's friends, “my name's Eddie.” He gives you his hand to shake, and you do, and notice that he looks at your hand a little suspiciously for a brief second.

“I'm Y/N.” You tell him, smiling politely. 

“So strange that you're Richie's kid.” Eddie wonders once your hands aren't touching anymore and he's stuffed his pair of hands into the pockets of his jeans. He shakes his head as you furrow your eyebrows. Eddie looks at Beverly. “Think Richie was the last one we thought would ever have kids, right?” Beverly nods to his question, and there's a wandering look in her eyes. “Tell me, how many times did he drop you when you were little?” Eddie asks, then, and the question makes both Beverly and you laugh. Eddie's humor is similar to Richie's.

“Very funny, Eds,” the mentioned man's voice comes from behind you, and so does his hand on your shoulder. Eddie visibly tenses up and his face changes.

“Don't call me that.” He tells Richie, but he doesn't respond.

“I may have been a big joke back then, but, as I look upon you all now,” Richie makes a circular gesture to his circle of friends around him, “I'm the one who's raised a beautiful kid out of the whole seven of us.” Your father boasts and everyone laughs. You smile and lean into his side. Meeting his friends has been ten times better than you anxiously had anticipated. 

The Losers Club, a nickname Richie announced when he also banged the gong in the corner of the room, and you moved to the round table and took seats around it. You chose the seat between Stanley and your father. Eddie and Ben were to Stanley's left and Beverly, Bill and Mike were on your dad's right. Through the course of the dinner, it turned out you'd chose the best seat. Whether it was out of nerves and social anxiety or just pure clinginess to your parent, didn't matter now. 

Your father and Eddie were quite the bickering house-wives, and to hear Stanley's little comments to himself only added to how funny everything was where you were sitting. Also, Stanley talked to you about being nervous, saying he'd noticed your shaken form and wide eyes, and talked about his own nervousness. That made you ease up even further. 

The dinner was filled with laughter and fun, made you forget all your worries. Hearing all the stories about Richie as a kid, finding out the nicknames they gave each other, and joining them in re-discovering their childhoods. Spending time with your father's friends... You never thought you'd be in this kind of situation, yet here you are. You write this dinner down as one of the best days with your father, if not the best.

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A/N: Yes I use that picture in every losers request. No I don't have a better one.

[revangerang]

Oh boy I really got in my feelings and wrote way too much lmao

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Top 5 animated movies:

1. Whisper of the Heart - Such a cute and whimsical slice-of-life coming of age story, and so inspiring for creative types! I love how Shizuku sees her fantasies come to life in the world around her, and how she just follows her whims to wander the city and treats each day like an adventure. I see a lot of myself in her. The grandpa and his shop are so cool! I want to find a place like that in my city! I love how she and Seiji inspire and encourage each other to improve themselves. Even though they’re so young and I usually hate that kind of thing, I think it’s a very realistic portrayal of what true love and a healthy relationship should be. The way her writing is treated as a creative process and something she can polish with hard work is just such a wonderful message and so inspiring to me.

2. Spirited Away - I love the Japanese culture and mythology, and the serene, still tone of the film. Truly beautiful. The way it doesn’t paint the spirits and gods in a bad light is good and correct: they were the careless humans who went into their world and took what they shouldn’t have. But it still focuses on the supernatural and eerie elements, often without even explaining anything, which I love. And the bathhouse feels like a real functioning place with workplace culture and all. And of course it’s great that Chihiro steps up and learns to be strong. I just love it.

3. Howl’s Moving Castle - I love all the characters so much, and all the magic and whimsy. The fantasy European setting is so charming, and they did a good job depicting Western magic. Ghibli movies really have such mundane magic, and they make me feel like my life is magic too. Sophie is so good and strong and I love seeing her come into her own. And Howl is hot. lmao

4. My Neighbor Totoro - I had the original Fox dub of this on a bootleg VHS my grandma made us when I was literally like an infant. My parents threw it away when I was still young- like no older than 5- because it “has Eastern religion in it” 🙄 Too bad for them the damage was already done lmfao. It was definitely one of the biggest influences of my formative years, I loved it so much and I’m so grateful to it. That mundane magic I talked about before, and just introducing me to a totally different worldview from my sheltered white American Christian bubble. I was fascinated by every single aspect from the traditional Japanese-style home to the bentos to the shrines... I really admired Satsuki and how grown up she was, taking care of her little sister like she did, making the lunches, all that. It’s really such a charming movie with great music and such a realistic depiction of childhood. Plus who doesn’t love Totoro himself?? And catbus! Iconicccc. I still look for little portholes in bushes and trees to this day lmao

5. Mulan - My little 8-year-old enby ass crying in the living room and repeatedly playing the Reflections scene over and over makes so much more sense now 😂 But really it’s just such a great film with a unique art style, fun characters, and great music. I love how Mulan fights for what she believes is right, and wants to protect her father. And I think it’s great how she also fights to find her own place in the world. I like how they don’t make it a “not like other girls” thing, but just that she personally somehow doesn’t feel comfortable in her own skin with the makeup and all that. Between her living as a man and the clear romantic relationship between “Ping” and Shang, it’s pretty good queer representation for a 2000s Disney movie lol. Also Mulan and Shang can both get it I mean what.

Honorable Mention: Prince of Egypt - That animation tho! So fucking cinematic!! And the music and everything just ugh so good! The characters are really compelling too and you can totally feel the brotherly love and familial issues.

Top 5 live action movies:

1. Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day - This is a movie where you can’t look away for a moment or you’ll miss something important. It really is just one entire heck of a day for the main character like howwww does so much happen. It’s really just written so well honestly that they manage to pack so much into a single movie and a single day. I aspire to that level. The 30s setting is so great with the costumes and set and music ahh I get so much inspiration from it. Every single character (and actor for that matter) is just fantastic. It’s super funny- that situational comedy is my jam. And there are touching moments that give me inspiration for my own life. I relate to Miss Pettigrew with her clear social anxiety, and perhaps neurodivergency? But I love how the events of the film bring out the best in her. And Delysia is just so charming! I want her confidence

2. La La Land - Such a fun and whimsical musical about life for creatives in Los Angeles~ It makes me feel nostalgic and proud to live here. I love all the different homages to classic Hollywood, and the music is so good!! The love story feels realistic and I actually really like that they don’t end up together in the end. They just encourage each other to be better, and if that means being apart, they’re willing to do it. It is another one that gives me inspiration for my life and creative endeavors, especially The Fools Who Dream 😭 Gets me every time.

3. Mamma Mia - This is my shameless feel-good movie. I love just putting it on in the background as I clean or whatever. It’s just so upbeat and fun!! I love Amanda Seyfried and Meryl Streep especially. And I like that the main character learns what she wants (and doesn’t want) out of life right now. And I love that they depict older characters and women!! having full and rich lives including romance and sex. The message that it’s never too late for love is so great! And also just like please communicate and you will probably save yourself so much heartache lmao.

4. Across the Universe - I have an affinity for the 60s and 70s, and I love how this movie kind of takes you through that era with the various characters. It’s such a fun movie with great costumes, cinematography, and music! I just love all the covers of the Beatles songs!! I honestly like them just as much as I like the originals. This is one of the first things I ever saw with positive/neutral queer representation?? Like Sadie is presented just as she is, without it being like WHAT SHE LIKES WOMEN?????? I”MPOSSIBLE !! Or making it all about sex or whatever. It’s literally just like “I want to hold your hand.” Also the whole bit with Eddie Izzard is just incredible lmfao

5. LOTR - My first fandom~ I love these movies so much ughhh. The music! The costumes! The characters! The world! The high fantasy!! I think PJ was so true to the books, or at least as much as he was able in just 10-ish hours. I love that they just went for it and filmed all three in one go, and made them over 3 hours long, which was basically unheard of at the time for blockbuster films. They did so good fully representing the different races through costume, language, culture, and the music too. I literally used to just lay on my bed for hours at a time in junior high, listening to the soundtracks and being immersed in the world. My friends and I would often play pretend that we were in Middle Earth (so lame for middle schoolers lmaooo). I love every single (not-evil) character and I will fight for them. I will especially fight Denethor I don’t even cARE !

Honorable mention: A Little Princess - Sooo whimsical and lovely, even when the girls are going through hardship! I love Sarah and how she literally does magic and even puts a curse on what’s her face omgg. She’s so charming and a genuinely good person too, even though she could have been a spoiled brat. The big climactic scene is so !! Omg I still get the adrenaline when she’s crossing the board and then hiding from the police even though I’ve seen this countless times since I was a small child. And it’s so wonderful that she’s reunited with her father, and they adopt the other girl. It taught me at a young age that the world isn’t fair and people will be nasty and abusive for no reason, but that you can still believe in magic and “fancy yourself a princess.” And the neighbor guy taught me that strangers will step in to help out of the goodness of their heart.

Top 5 TV shows:

1. ATLA - One of the best series of all time. The worldbuilding, lore, storyline, character development, animation, music, etc, are all incredible. If they had gone with the original intention of making Zutara canon it would have been literally perfect and so subversive and innovative! As it is it is still nearly perfect and they still did an amazing job with Zuko’s redemption arc. I just ignore that very last scene tbh. In my mind, it didn’t happen. The series addresses so many issues like imperialism, sexism, abuse, family, disability, war, etc, in a very realistic way. Uncle Iroh is literally a treasure.

2. Steven Universe - So charming and wonderful!! I just love it so much!! It is so goddamn queer, it makes me so happy. Stevonnie is the nonbinary representation we don’t even deserve!! I love every single character. I love the animation and the music too! The bgm is so bubbly and glitchy and cool, super on point for trends these days. And the original songs are so charming~ It also deals with a ton of important issues like imperialism, interpersonal relationships, oppression, self-identity, abuse, leadership, mental health, boundaries, consent, brain-washing, unlearning unhealthy behavior, etc. I love that every single character, even minor ones, get character development and a chance to be strong and improve themselves. And it shows that even the ones we initially think are super strong and have it all together, actually have their own issues that they struggle with too.

3. Yuuri!!! On Ice - This show!!!! Oh my goddddddd. Literally perfect. I love that it just subverts every single trope???? Especially with the events at the beginning and the big spoiler in episode 10. Simply incredible. I love every single character so much??? Even ones I was expecting to hate, like how Yurio is a little shit at the beginning, and then when Lilia is introduced as this super severe tyrant, but she ends up just being a good, yet strict coach because she really wants Yurio to succeed. It’s honestly just so wholesome! The music is so amazing and the ice skating is really realistic too! It really shows that they had an actual skating choreographer and worked off video of him performing. I love how realistic the whole show is like with lots of social media, youtube, instagram, etc. And it does a queer romance without it being a gimmick. It’s just a sports anime with a side plot of a romance but it just happens to be gay. And Kubo-sensei has stated that homophobia doesn’t exist at all in their world which makes me so happy. It’s honestly so queer and I adore how all three main characters are genderfucks a bit. I also love how realistically Yuuri’s anxiety and depression are portrayed. I relate so much to him, especially because mine exhibit in the exact same ways as his. It’s another one that inspires me to fight to be better and live the life I want to live.

4. OTGW - So charming. A perfect addition to the canon of New England fairy tales. The music is great, the animation is wonderful and nostalgic, the characters are fun and interesting and spooky. I love how liminal it is and you aren’t really sure where they are or what’s going on for the majority of the episodes. Greg is the most realistic depiction of a small child and the brothers’ relationship is the most realistic I think I’ve ever seen in my life lmao. He’s just so random and weird and has such Little Kid Logic I love it so much lmao. The story is perfectly contained in its 10 short episodes, and it gives a very satisfying ending. I still can’t get over how many huge stars were in it too?? Like fucking Tim Curry as Auntie Whispers???? I can not believe.

5. Inuyasha - I’m weeb trash and this show is also trash but I love it so much okay. As a big fan I hold so much against the anime for changing things from the manga, but even so I love it. Overall I think the animation, music, and voice acting is perfect. It’s so cool with all the mythos of youkai and the shikon jewel, plus I love traditional Japanese culture stuff. And isekai type stuff is my jam. If I found a portal to another world or to the past you bet your ass I’d go through it. I totally don’t still look for portals as a 30 year old adult, I don’t know what you’re talking about 😂 Kagome is such a great mc tbh like she’s so smart and strong and talented and kind I just love her so much??? I want to be more like her. And I love all the characters honestly. I have to overlook some questionable 90s anime tropes for certain ones, but I still love them. As much as we rag on the constant upgrades thing, the battles and stuff are pretty thrilling, and overall the series is good fun. And yes Sesshoumaru is my husbando, next question.

Honorable Mention: Doctor Who - I love how this show manages to be like every single genre?? SciFi, historical, comedy, thriller, mystery, slice of life, etc. I love all of the Doctors, and all of their companions. I just love how much the Doctor loves humans, and how much faith they have in humanity. And again it’s that whole isekai, time travel, normal modern human goes on magical adventures thing. I would go with the Doctor in a heartbeat. I still cry over Donna 😭

[cvteeds]

ME!

minnesotamemelord on AO3

Richie adjusts his bow tie one last time in the side mirror of the limo. He can hear the seemingly deafening roar of the crowd, of the reporters and nominees and everyone else outside. His manager sits across from him, spouting off reminders. Richie barely hears him.

”-and if you lose, look happy anyway. No one likes a sore loser, and if you want another season, you’ll-“

”I got it,” Richie says, cutting him off. He can’t take it anymore. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” His agent and former manager, David, sighs.

“Fine.” He checks his watch and looks around nervously. “Are you sure you don’t want someone to walk the carpet with? It’s not too late, I hear Zachary Quinto’s still available-“

”I don’t need a date,” Richie says, rolling his eyes. “I’m still married. Even if he’s not here.”

”Of course.” Before David can say anything else, Richie opens the door and steps out into the Los Angeles evening, his brand-new converse sneakers sinking into the plush red carpet. The sneakers are his signature, and it’s written into his contract that he gets to wear them everywhere. Even, as is specifically stated in the writing, to the Emmys. They do not go with his tuxedo, and he has been reminded of this every single minute of every day since his nomination was announced. Well, nominations.

”Richie! Richie, over here!” Some reporter shouts. He vaguely recognizes her from a popular morning talk show that he always gets up too late to watch, but hears about constantly from his early-bird husband. He puts on an easy smile as he approaches, hoping it doesn’t look too fake. It’s not fake, not the excitement, but he can’t help but think that he should not be alone right now.

”I’m here with Richie Tozier, writer and star of the hit new horror-sitcom, ‘The Losers Club’, streaming now on HBO. Now, Richie, you’re famously very good friends with author William Denbrough.” It takes all of Richie’s self control not to laugh. Hearing people call Bill ‘William’ is like hearing himself called ‘Richard’, which only ever happens when Eddie gets mad. “Lots of people have drawn comparisons between ‘The Losers Club’ and Denbrough’s books. Was there any inspiration that came to you from reading your friend’s writing?” Richie laughs good-naturedly.

”Wow, starting off with the tough questions. Aren’t you going to ask me who I’m wearing?” The reporter chuckles politely. “No, but seriously, both Bill and I take our inspiration from our childhoods. We grew up together, and the kids we write about are definitely inspired by ourselves. So in a way, yes, I do take some of my inspiration from Bill, but it’s more from the person himself than his books.” She nods, clearly surprised by the eloquence of his answer. “And, uh, this suit is Gucci. Just so you know.”

He fights his way through the crowd (metaphorically, of course. He still stops for photos and interviews, and to talk to the odd acquaintance) and finally gets inside. He finds his seat between two of his co-stars, a young woman who resembles Bev in almost every way except that her hair is black, not red, and a man who resembles Eddie so heavily that Richie has, much to his husband’s annoyance, mistaken for him at least five times. The lights dim, the show begins, the host launches into her monologue, and Richie hardly even notices. It is a blur of standing, sitting, applauding, laughing, of lights and sparkles and the swish of gowns and tuxedo pants. Jameela Jamil leans back for a selfie. Tony Shalhoub accidentally knocks his glasses off on his way up to collect his award. John Mulaney cracks a joke so funny it takes all of Richie’s effort not to laugh through the ‘In Memoriam’ video. And then it is his award, Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy Series. The announcer, a young woman Richie vaguely recognizes from this summer’s biggest action movie, flashes a brilliant white smile and lists off the nominees, ending with “...Richie Tozier as Bradley Thompson in ‘The Losers Club.’” She opens the gold envelope with delicate hands and Richie can feel his breath catch in his throat. He hardly expected to be nominated. He would not win. And yet, he has never been more anxious in his life, except on the day he asked Eddie to marry him.

“And the Emmy for Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy Series goes to... Richie Tozier for ‘The Losers Club!’”

Richie doesn't register the shock at first. He thinks perhaps it is a dream, and when he stands on the stage to collect his award, he will be in his underwear. Or maybe it's Eddie, who had mocked him with this since his nomination was announced (lovingly, of course). But no, it's real, and he realizes it when his female co-star throws her arms around him, squealing excitedly. He rises to his feet, smiling unsteadily, and scoots out to the aisle. He was not supposed to win, he thinks. That's why they put him in the middle of the row instead of the end, where he could get out more easily. The probable winners are always in the aisle seats because it gives them an easy path to the stage. It's an odd moment of clarity, and it passes quickly, and then he is rising the stairs, and he's being handed the golden statue, and his face is warm under the lights. He blinks, expecting the glare of light on glass, but it never comes. He wears contacts now, he remembers, and laughs at his own short-mindedness. He has to bend down a little to reach the microphone, and as he pats his jacket pocket, realizes he has forgotten his speech at home. Fuck. He's going to be "that guy", the guys who forgets his notecards and has to make the whole thing up on the fly. Still, it's probably better than standing in awkward silence, which is what he's doing right now.

"Um... as a kid, I told a lot of jokes. And mostly, they weren't funny. But if you told that kid that one day, he'd be standing on this stage, he probably would have said 'yeah, right' and then made a crude joke about your mom." There is a smattering of polite laughter. He is building speed now, snowballing. "But that kid from Maine couldn't have gotten here without a lot of help, so there are some people I need to thank. My parents, Maggie and Wentworth, for always laughing, even when I was being a complete idiot. My agent, David Lukas, who convinced me to make the move from stand-up to TV. I'd like to thank my co-stars, who are the funniest, sweetest, best people I could have asked to work with, and for never being dicks about being more attractive than me, even though you clearly are. You're the best minions I've ever had. But seriously, I sometimes feel like the show was written for you guys, even though I literally had no idea who any of you were before the first day." Richie scans the room. He sees a hundred people he knows and a thousand he doesn't. He sees friends and idols and people he doesn't even recognize. And in all of them, he sees the one person he wishes were here most, the one person who isn't here.

"And last, but absolutely not least, there's one more person I need to thank. My husband, Eddie, the light of my life. Without him, this show wouldn't exist. When we got together three years ago, I was still using a ghostwriter. It was writing jokes about Eddie that got me to write my own material, and then my agent approached me about writing a pilot for this show, and now here we are, and it all came from him. This show is inspired by our childhood, growing up together, then reconnecting as adults. He's my constant inspiration. I do everything I do for him. He's at home with our son right now, because he said he wasn't going to come all the way from New York to LA just to watch me lose- that's a direct quote. And as he knows damn well, there's nothing I love more than proving him wrong."

He looks directly into the camera now, smiling wider than before. "I won, baby, I did it. And I did it for you. I love you, Eds." He blows a kiss to the camera and flushes, maybe from the heat of the lights, maybe from the out-of-character gesture. He embraces the announcer, kissing her cheek gently as he exits, desperate for the first time in his 43 years of life to be out of the spotlight. He is almost back to his seat when he stops fast, nearly slamming into the figure that he hadn't seen before in the dark theater. His gaze travels up from the impeccably polished shoes to the neatly pressed tuxedo pants, to the burgundy velvet jacket he had custom-made as a birthday present last year. It is Eddie, he knows it is, before his eyes finally meet the tear-filled, puppy-dog brown ones of his husband.

"You came," he says, his eyes turning from gray to a watery black.

"You won," Eddie replies, and Richie's tearful face breaks out in a huge, toothy grin. He cups Eddie's cheek (the one with the scar on it) in his broad, hairy hand, and leans down, pulling Eddie into a long, feverish kiss. The cameras catch every second, but they don't notice, nor do they care. Richie leads Eddie by the hand into the row of seats, and they sit beside each other, their legs scrunched together in the limited leg room.

"I know you didn't come just because I won," Richie whispers. "You would've had to leave seven hours ago. At least."

"I realized, like, two hours after you left that I was basically being a massive piece of shit. So I hopped on the next Delta flight here- way less nice than the Cessna, by the way- changed in the airport bathroom, and came straight here. I had to call David and have him talk to security just so I could get in. Apparently, the photos of our wedding are not enough to prove we're married."

"I'm glad you're here." Richie intertwines his fingers with Eddie's, then gasps. "Fuck. What'd you do with the baby?"

"First of all, you gotta stop calling him 'the baby.' Stan's almost three."

"Yeah, but he's my baby."

"Good luck with that once he hits school age, my love. And in terms of what I quote-unquote 'did with him', I called that sitter, the one Blake and Ryan recommended at poker night. And before you asked, yes, I interviewed her; yes, she speaks three languages; yes, she can bake, play guitar, and has half the best doctors in Manhattan on her speed dial. She's perfect, and has been texting me updates every half-hour." Richie's head lolls onto Eddie's shoulder, and they nestle into each other like puzzle pieces. Richie's show wins again and again, the articles the next day will say it swept. Richie's hotel room is paid through for another day, but Eddie helps him pack. They load what little luggage they have into the back and take off (the first thing Richie did after returning from Derry was get his pilot's license). The palm trees and city lights below give way to dark, lightless desert, and then mountains, then cornfields and lakes and long stretches of empty plain. And then, just as the dark violet sky begins to fade into the faintest streaks of yellow and pink and blue, just as the star begin to disappear and the moon becomes almost translucent, the silhouette of the New York skyline appears against it.

"Home again," Eddie says, his eyes tired, but he has never looked happier, except maybe the first time he saw Stan.

"Finally." The plane touches down at an airfield in Queens, and they step out, stretching their tired limbs. Richie stares up at the sky, in which the sun is steadily rising. They go home to their Upper East Side condo, careful to shut the door behind them as quietly as possible. The windows are dark, but a thin stream of light flows out from under one of the bedroom doors, the one with a big green 'S' tacked to it. They open the door as softly as they can and look in on the young, curly-haired boy asleep, his Star Wars nightlight the source of the light. They leave him asleep, and the Emmy on the mantle. Eddie steps into the bathroom, and Richie can hear the shower start. He tosses his jacket on the chair in the corner and yanks his shirt and tie over his head. He goes to the terrace and looks out at the East River below. It's a chilly early morning, very early, and the breeze ruffles the thin layer of dark hair on his bare chest. He hears a honking horn, a couple arguing, glass shattering and water crashing. They are all sounds he heard before, in Derry, in Chicago, in Los Angeles. But they sound different here. Or maybe he is just seeing the world through new eyes, different eyes. The eyes of a man who has everything he wants. He feels cold tears on his face and brushes them away half-heartedly. He has not realized until now that his life is perfect. Legitimately, genuinely, certifiably perfect. Out of the closet? Check. Dream job? Check. A loving husband and son? Check. And now, one last validation that he is, in fact, on top of the world. It's sitting on his fireplace right now, but it's nothing compared to the boy with the Star Wars nightlight and the man in the shower. They are worth every award, every affirmation, every positive review, every selfie with a fan, everything.

Richie hears the shower shut off and the snap of the towel as Eddie pulls it off the hook. He sits on the bed and wiggles out of his tuxedo pants, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He does not turn around when he hears the door behind him open, nor does he move when the other side of the bed sinks under Eddie's weight. A hand comes to rest on his shoulder, folding around his upper arm. Feather-light kisses brush his other shoulder, tracing a line across his shoulder blades. He twists his upper body around to face Eddie, who smiles serenely up at him. Richie places a hand on his chest, his thumb gently circling one of Eddie's two black star tattoos.

"How's it feel to be back?" Eddie asks, leaning into Richie.

"I liked the ocean air, but I have to say... I missed the smog." Eddie chuckles and fidgets with his his inhaler (it's new, and he carries it with him everywhere. It's more of a security blanket than anything else.)

"I don't know, I mean... since we spent those few months out there shooting the show, I've given it some thought, and... what would you say to moving? Somewhere else? Anywhere else?" Richie looks up in shock.

"You serious?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's not like I want to move back to Derry or anything, but think about it. If we went to Pasadena, or Santa Monica, or San Diego-"

"You really liked California, I take it?"

"I did, but if you think about it, it'd make perfect sense for us. And we wouldn't have to live in the middle of the city. I- I love New York, Richie, I do, that's why I moved here, but it's never where I imagined raising kids, if I imagined that at all. But we loved it there. And Stan loved it there. And if we went there, he could grow up on the beach instead of the sidewalks, and he might actually be able to see the stars at night, and-"

"Okay, Eds, calm down." Richie laughs and flops onto his back. Eddie falls beside him, and they turn to look at each other. "Let's do it?" Eddie cocks an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. You're right, as always. And besides, it's warmer there. It's too goddamn cold here." Eddie curls an arm over Richie and buries his face in Richie's chest.

"I love you, you know that? And I literally couldn't be prouder of you if I tried." Richie pulls Eddie in closer and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

"It's all for you, Eddie. All of it. That statue out there is yours, baby. And so am I."

[edsbrak]

Seeing Double

summary: 1990!Richie has a chance meeting with 2017!Richie and it’s just a whole bag of fun, really. yep.

a/n: hey yall, I know this isn’t the final SW chapter, don’t worry, I’m still finishing it, I was just in a lull so i thought I’d write this to get my inspo back! I hope you enjoy this ridiculousness! 

Read on Ao3

It was strange, being back in the place where it all began.

At this moment in time, the ground was decorated in a canopy of oranges, greens and browns. Occasionally, a group of leaves would float up in a gust and around the interweaving paths, catching in between the cracks made over countless decades of use.

Up above, the sky was cloudless and pale, warming up his exposed hands and face against the cold nip of the autumn wind. His glasses, tinted to shade away the sun’s glare, were pushed back up when he felt them begin to slip down. There were a pair of mothers sat over beneath a large tree, their toddlers by their feet as they shout at them for attention.

Beyond that, standing proud and stark in the centre of the small park, Paul Bunyan stared out ahead with his looming, fake grin, and Richie tried his best to ignore the distasteful curl in his stomach. He scoffed once, partly at his irrational fear and partly at the town for still having the lumberjack on display.

It wasn’t surprising to notice how little things had changed over the years.

Richie wouldn’t say he was back here by choice.

With the passing of the seasons comes old age, and lately, regrettably, his old man wasn’t in the best physical shape anymore. He was growing more forgetful, unable to perform the labour of maintaining a home for much longer. So really, Richie always knew he’d find himself in this town again. He just hadn’t expected that time to come as soon as it did.

His mother, God bless her, had the patience of a saint and made sure to keep up her reassurances that things would be fine and there was no need for their son to worry. Not too long afterward, Wentworth had pulled Richie aside to make him promise to look after her if things were to turn sour. Richie had agreed, resting his hand atop his father’s crinkled own as he swallowed back the reality of everything that was happening.

Convincing himself it was just to stay on the safe side, the next day he looked into nursing homes listed in the tri-state area, and as an extra step, made a few calls back home on the west side.

The rest of the visit turned as light-hearted as his mother was determined to make it. Richie would stand in the kitchen doorway, watching on as she moved back and forth between the stove and fridge and sink, humming a faint tune that Richie thought she might have sung to him as a child.

A thought, shrouded by something dark and unknown to his consciousness, whispered to him how lucky he was to be alive.

And despite the circumstances of his unofficial visit to Derry, Maine, Richie could be grateful for one thing, and that was having Eddie Kaspbrak accompany the journey with him.

Eddie had insisted on checking into the local hotel in town when they first arrived, not wanting to impose on Richie’s parents despite the claims that they have room to spare. It was nice, though, after a long day of sorting through his parents finances he then had the option of retiring to a night in with Eddie instead.

Occupying the space on the bench to his left sat his backpack, and inside it, a cellphone waiting for a call from Eddie to come through. He promised he would phone before leaving the hotel, with a plan to meet Richie here in this park before heading over to the Toziers for dinner.

He almost didn’t hear the ring, because in that moment a group of kids decide to rush past him, shouting at full volume as if something wicked was chasing after them.

He reached into his bag to retrieve the clunky, heavy phone, pressing the green coded button to accept the call and resting it against his ear with a smile.

“Y’ello, this is Richie,” he answered, just to be sure.

“Hi Rich,” Eddie’s soft voice came through with only mild static. “I was just about to leave to come and meet you. Are you at the park?”

“Yep,” Richie said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I’m in the middle of a stare down with good ol’ Paul here.”

“Please,” Eddie laughed gently, the sound wrapping around Richie in a pleasant tingle. “I know for a fact you could never look that God awful statue in the eye.”

“Alright, you got me.”

Even without seeing him, Richie knew Eddie was still smiling.

“I also wanted to ask if I should pick up some coffees on the way there?” Eddie tacked on, and the sudden need for caffeine hit Richie quickly. Ever since his recent attempts to cut back on alcohol he had turned to coffee, figuring it was better than a possible relapse.

“Sounds like a plan, Spaghetti Man.”

“Richie, please,” Eddie whined through an exasperated laugh.  

“You love me,” Richie taunted, glancing around briefly to make sure he had been out of ear-shot. Eddie clearly sighed on the other end, but Richie took no offence.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Bye.”

The line went dead, and Richie took a moment to stare at it before putting it away. He fidgeted around until he was comfortable along the back of the bench, arms spread wide and head tilted up toward the sunlight. Moments like this one had been hard to come by lately, so he soaked up all he could, not allowing his mind to linger on anything that might send him into another spiral of worry.

Having Eddie here with him helped. In fact, in the past few years, they had both helped each other to grow; to be the people Richie thought they were always meant to be.

There were parts inside of him, memories; still there but as if they’d simply just been swept under a rug. No matter how much he tried, no amount of struggling allowed him to remember. Some days he could see the frustration mirrored in Eddie’s eyes as well, mouth pulled down as he stopped whatever task he had been doing to focus his attention on the whispers and murmurs in his head.

Richie knew he had gotten off easy, whereas Eddie had to live with the reminder of their last visit to Derry in the form of a missing arm.

Over the years, through the pain and the physical therapy, there were some days when it was almost second nature to his day to day life. But on the bad days, where Eddie would struggle to drive or clothe or bathe himself and he would shut himself off in hopeless tear-stained rage, Richie would wait. Because no matter how long the recovery may be, Richie had no plan to leave Eddie again, and vice versa.

He didn’t know how he managed to find this second chance, and with Eddie as well, but there was no way he was about to waste it.

Suddenly, an object (that Richie thought might have been a frisbee) narrowly avoided a collision with his nose before landing somewhere off to his right. He turned in the direction of the culprit to see it was those kids from before, still shouting as some of them pointed or shoved each other in worry.

After the shock wore off, one of them finally started to walk over to retrieve it, and Richie could hear the boy muttering under his breath – something about “hating physical activity, I mean, this is so stupid,” and Richie could honestly relate pretty well.

The kid bent down to pick up the fluorescent coloured toy, pushing familiar shaped glasses up his nose as he began to walk back over to his friends. But then he stopped in front of Richie, movements awkward as he gestured to the frisbee weakly.

“Sorry, dude. About almost knocking your nose right off,” he said, voice cracking from what Richie could only assume was puberty striking hard.

“You’re alright kid, just watch where you throw that thing next time.”

“Yeah, sure,” the kid said, and Richie made a point to look away, waiting for the kid to start walking again and return to his friends. Only Richie didn’t hear any retreating footsteps, so he glanced back over to see the kid now had his head tilted, eyes slightly squinted behind his frames. “You… look familiar. You live here or something?”

Richie quirked a single brow at him. “Didn’t your parents teach you not to interact with strangers?”

“Trust me dude, you’re one of the least weird people around here,” he said.

“How are you so sure?”

The kid shrugged, his oversized button-up swaying in the breeze, and Richie was beginning to suspect this boy was perhaps not the most logical thinker amongst his group of friends. But then that thought paused, and he reconsidered it. This town was full of some shady characters, so really, Richie should be classifying himself as someone trustworthy, right?

“What’s that gadget you got there?” Richie asked, gesturing to the toy in the kid’s hand.

“Oh, uh, a frisbee,” he said. “You, like, throw it and stuff.”

“I got that, yes.”

There’s some more shouting coming from the group again, presumably telling him to hurry up, and the kid made an exasperated sound and huffed out, “In a minute!” to his friends. None of them looked particularly happy that their friend was talking to a stranger and wasting their important play time, and Richie still had no clue as to why the kid hadn’t left his space yet.

“But seriously,” he continued, “I swear I’ve seen your face before. Like, on TV I think? Are you like, famous or something?”

Once upon a time, maybe when Richie was around this kid’s age, hearing those words would have been music to his ears. He can remember the days when he would boast to his friends after school about being the next best voice actor; dazzling audiences with his voices in the hopes he could bring them to tears with laughter. He had told Bill and Eddie and everyone his dreams to make it big – take Hollywood by storm one act at a time.

And he had, for the most part.

But as it turned out, that life, that glamour… it wasn’t what he thought it would be.

He’d convinced himself it had been enough, that he was content with what he had and there couldn’t be much else he was missing from his life. But he knew that lifestyle, that attitude, was probably what caused all of his relationships to fail, each woman leaving him with the same speech but phrased differently every time.

Returning to Derry and seeing the Losers again, seeing Eddie again, had been what he believed to be his wake-up call.

So Richie lifted up his sunglasses so the kid could see his face more clearly. “You’re right. I did used to be on TV. Not anymore, though.”

“Dude,” the kid almost laughed, “What the hell are you doing in Derry? And I’ve seen some of your stuff. Your jokes are so old, what’s up with that? My dad finds you funny.”

Richie huffed. “Everyone’s a critic,” he muttered under his breath.

“How come you left TV? Did they fire you? That would’ve been shit,” he said and dragged out the word ‘shit’.

“I quit, actually,” Richie answered and brought his shades down again.

“What?” the kid said. “Why’d you do that? Being famous would be fucking ace! Not to mention the attention you get from so many babes!”

Did I swear this much as a kid? Richie thought briefly. “Let me give you a piece of advice, kid,” he said, hoping to be done with this interaction soon. “Being in the spotlight isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. One day you’ll learn there are much more important things in life.”

The kid pointed at him accusingly. “That’s what a washed-up comedian would say!”

“Rich, what the fuck is taking you so long?” another boy ran up to them, face pinched in anger as he glared up at his friend.

A memory, faded and distant, made an appearance in Richie’s head as he watched the two boys proceed to bicker back and forth, snarky and strikingly familiar. It was uncanny, almost, how much this kid was reminding Richie of himself.

The newcomer snatched the frisbee out of Rich’s hand before forcefully throwing it back over to their friends.

“Hey, you stole my shot,” Rich said.

“Shut up. You don’t even like frisbee,” the smaller one said.

“Okay, are we done here?” Richie asked no one in particular.

“Huh?” Rich turned to him. “Oh, right. Well, nice meeting you, dude. Sorry again and all that. But no offence, I’m gonna make sure I become so famous I’ll never have to come back to this town again.”

Rich’s friend smacked his shoulder. “Don’t be fucking rude, idiot.”

“I said ‘no offence,’” Rich argued, mumbling as he was finally dragged away to leave Richie in peace.

Richie let out a deep sigh, rubbing at his temple and thanking his lucky stars he never had any children of his own.

After that, it wasn’t much longer before Eddie arrived at the other side of the park, bags slung over his shoulder as he balanced a tray of their coffees in his hand. Richie couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, watching as Eddie drew closer, his soft blond hair bouncing in the wind. Once he was close enough, Richie offered to take the coffees so Eddie handed them over. He took a sip straight away, enjoying the warmth as it filled his stomach.

“Were you talking to some kids before?” Eddie asked him curiously.

“Yeah,” Richie said, seeing that group had moved on from frisbee and were now walking down the main street. “One of them seemed dead set on making sure I knew my comedy skits were outdated-dad-joke-garbage.”

“What’s that? Children of today not understanding your middle-aged humour? Shocking,” Eddie teased.

“What is this? Make-fun-of-Richie day?”

“That’s every day, honey,” Eddie said, using his hand to gently wipe away some milk foam that got caught in Richie’s moustache.

“You really need to stop doing things that make me want to kiss you in public,” Richie murmured. He knew they shouldn’t, but that didn’t stop him from imagining it.

“Sorry,” Eddie said bashfully and looked to the ground.

“Ready to head over to my parents?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess.”

As they began the 15 minute walk back over to his childhood home, Richie took one last look at the kids playing in the street, jumping out of the way of honking cars as they passed by. A small part of him he’s not entirely sure of tells him they did something good here – that the kids growing up in this town have a better chance to live the lives they were given.

“As much as I came to despise this town, I have to admit some good things did come out of it,” he said as they crossed over the kissing bridge and out of sight of peering eyes.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked. “And what’s that?”

Richie made sure their fingers brushed together as he turned to smile at Eddie.

“A fighting chance.”

[disappearingground]

Jenny Lewis Escapes the Void

Pitchfork March 21, 2019

After a turbulent childhood and two decades of brilliantly vulnerable songs, the L.A. idol has finally arrived at something like happiness.

By Jenn Pelly

Jenny Lewis and I are in her brown Volvo, idling outside her childhood home. On a Tuesday afternoon in Los Angeles’ San Fernando Valley, we are two blocks from Van Nuys Middle School, where Lewis once sang “Killing Me Softly” in a talent show and got suspended for flashing a peace sign in a class photo (it was mistaken for a gang symbol). We are walking distance from what used to be a Sam Goody record store on Van Nuys Boulevard, where Lewis once bought a life-changing tape of De La Soul’s 3 Feet High and Rising, stoking her obsession with magnetic wordplay, as well as her first Bright Eyes CD, Fevers and Mirrors, which she quickly shared with the three men in her burgeoning indie band, Rilo Kiley, in the early 2000s.

We are not far from the bar where Lewis’ older sister, Leslie, sings in a cover band every Saturday, following in the tradition of their parents, who sang covers in a Las Vegas lounge act called Love’s Way in the 1970s. And that strip-mall pub is just across from the movie theater where Lewis and her mother once conspired to steal a cardboard cutout of Lewis’ 13-year-old self—a souvenir from when, as one of the busiest child actors of her generation, she starred alongside Fred Savage in the 1989 video game flick The Wizard.

Lewis left the Valley alone when she was 16 and vowed to never go back. “That was my number one goal: just to get out,” she tells me now, at 43. But on the occasion of her fourth solo record, On the Line, I asked for a tour of her past life, and here we are—Lewis in a royal blue jumpsuit, with electric blue sneakers and eyeliner to match; me, staring up at the rainbow of buttons fastened to the sun visor of her passenger seat, a collage that includes Bob Dylan, a peace sign, and a hot-orange sad face.

From the driver’s seat, behind her oversized shades, Lewis mentions the Bob Marley blacklight poster that once hung in her Van Nuys bedroom, and I imagine the scores of teenage bedroom walls that have made space for her own iconic image through the years. Lewis’ catalog of cleverly morbid, storytelling songs with Rilo Kiley and the Watson Twins ushered a generation of young listeners through suburban ennui and personal becoming—like a wise older sister we could visit on our iPods, offering an example of how to do something smart and cool with your sadness and your solitude.

In the mid-2000s, Lewis was like an indie rock Joni Mitchell for the soul-bearing Livejournal era, or an emo Dylan, the poet laureate of AIM away messages. Words—some cryptic, some elegant, some brutally, achingly direct—burst from the edges of her diaristic songs, with a dash of Didion-esque deadpan for good measure. It’s no surprise that Lewis’ earliest bedroom recordings were just Casio beats and what she describes as “raps.” Lewis was the first feminine voice I ever encountered leading a band outside the mainstream, with a sound that initially befuddled my ears because it was, in that overwhelmingly male indie era, so rare: a woman’s plainspoken voice.

Cruising around L.A. together, my mind maps the California of her lyrics. What does it mean for the palm trees to “bow their heads”? What becomes of the cheating, California-bound man in Rilo Kiley’s filmic “Does He Love You”—the soulful rave-up where Lewis belted the heroic mantra, “I am flawed if I’m not free!”? But my most pressing question, the one I must ask Lewis: Is California still “a recipe for a black hole,” as she sang on 2001’s “Pictures of Success”? “I guess it’s all the void,” she tells me straight. “It’s not really geographical. That’s what you find out on your adventures. It doesn’t really matter where you go. You accompany yourself there.”

The main destination of our Van Nuys excursion is the small ranch home of Lewis’ youth—or rather, homes, as there are two, practically adjacent. It’s a little complicated, I learn, as are many things with Lewis’ upbringing.

Lewis was born in Vegas on Elvis Presley’s birthday. In 1976, her parents and sister were living out of suitcases on the road, playing Carpenters and Sonny and Cher songs at casinos like the Sands, the Mint, and the Tropicana. “My mom was so pregnant but she would not miss a show,” recalls Leslie, who was 8 at the time. “Jenny would be kicking her on stage, and I remember seeing my mom flinch. I think that was Jenny saying, ‘Let me out, I want to sing!’”

Soon after Lewis was born, her parents divorced, and her father, Eddie Gordon, left the family and continued his career as one of the world’s leading harmonica virtuosos. Lewis’ mother, Linda, moved back to her native Los Angeles, working three jobs to rebuild a life with her daughters. At 2-and-a-half years old, Lewis was discovered by the powerful Hollywood agent Iris Burton (a young Drew Barrymore and the Olsen Twins were among her clients) after the toddler spontaneously wandered over to her table in a restaurant.

When Lewis was 5, she was already supporting Leslie and their mom with her commercial and TV acting, and they bought their humble first home, the one we’re visiting. “But we always used to dream about the house on the corner,” Lewis says, slowly circling the block, “so then my mom bought that house, too.” It’s two doors down, looks pretty similar—why dream of it? “Because it was right there,” Lewis says, “and it was nicer than the one we had!” (A 1992 L.A. Times headline dubbed Lewis “A Teen-Age Actress With 3 Mortgages”—she owned a townhouse in North Hollywood by then as well—calling her “the youngest member of the United Homeowners Association.”) “I know it’s confusing,” Lewis says. “This is part of the simulation; this is craziness. Why did we also want that house?” She erupts into a cackle. “None of this makes any fucking sense.”

In life as in her songs, Lewis is a consummate storyteller, mindful of how tiny details make a great tale. In the car, for instance, she tells me about the time she played Lucille Ball’s granddaughter on the notoriously bad 1986 sitcom “Life With Lucy.” It was the last show Lucy ever starred in, and it was canceled before the first season even finished. The mood was blue, but a wrap party was still planned, and Lewis’ mother convinced Lucy to have the gathering at their little house in Van Nuys. “So Lucy rolled up with her two dogs,” Lewis remembers. “She walked in the front door, looked around, and said, ‘What a dump!’”

Lewis’ mother typically attracted fascinating characters to the house—like the producers of the TV special “Circus of the Stars,” who trained Lewis in trapeze; or “Fantasy Island” star Hervé Villechaize, who came over for a scammy “Pyramid Party”; or The Exorcist writer William Peter Blatty. One year on Halloween, at the recommendation of the family’s illusionist friend—who, according to Leslie, levitated Jenny in their house—her mother invited over Ghostbusters star Dan Aykroyd’s brother Peter, who was himself a real-life ghost buster. Peter planned to “check out the levels” of the house.

Intrigued by the Lewis’ paranormal investigation, the local news showed up. Back then, Lewis was hanging out with fellow child actors Sarah Gilbert, Toby Maguire, and Leonardo DiCaprio—who also came through to scope things out. Recalling the ghost-busting scene, Lewis says, “They came over and set up their vague, infrared equipment and they captured some sort of reading coming down the hallway and going into my childhood bedroom.”

I ask Lewis if the ghostbusters’ findings felt accurate. “Well, totally,” she says. “Something was going on. We always had weird vibes in the house. Very dark vibes.”

In person, Lewis’ temperament is one of constant cheer. She radiates positivity, takes bong rips in her kitchen, says “dope” and “vibe” often. This sunny disposition is occasionally punctuated by looks of deep, welling concern for others—as if she is on the brink of tears for humanity. Still, she calls herself a “total skeptic,” and tells me that show business trained her, early on, to master the art of getting along. “I didn’t ever wanna be one of the dicks on set—like in a family situation, where one person can really fuck up Thanksgiving,” she says, before veering into more existential territory. “We all know we’re careening towards the end of humanity. I just wanna do my work and hang out with my people.”

It’s only later, while sipping Modelos at the dining room table of her quaint ranch house in the hills of Studio City, that Lewis reveals the source of her childhood home’s “dark vibes” was her mother’s lifelong heroin addiction. “It is painful to go back there,” Lewis tells me. “I get a weird feeling. I don’t know if the ghostbusters could have detected it, but there was some kind of energy that was not conducive to survival. So when I left, I left.”

“My mom was an addict my entire life, and it was a fucking rollercoaster,” she continues. “It lent itself to some amazing situations, but it was manic as fuck, and there were drugs constantly. It’s a lifestyle, and it’s a community to grow up around. I feel grateful for having been witness to some pretty outrageous human behavior from a young age. Nothing really shocks me.”

Leslie attests to their complicated home environment, and recalls “stepping over people trying to find my books to go to school.” She became a mother figure to Jenny, taking her little sister to school on her bicycle and making sure she did her homework. Leslie was just a teenager when she put it together that their mother was pushing Jenny’s acting money into buying drugs and, ultimately, selling them. “It was a terrible realization for both Jenny and I to have,” Leslie says. “I give our mom a lot of credit for being resourceful prior to that. We probably wouldn’t be talking to you today if she hadn’t been so inventive and so diligent. But it escalated.”

When Jenny quit acting in her early 20s, Leslie wasn’t surprised. “I remember her finally having the burden lifted off her shoulders, that she didn’t need to support our mom anymore, and she didn’t need to be told what to do anymore—she was free,” Leslie says. “Her agents were calling me, asking ‘What the hell’s going on? We’re booking her in all this stuff.’ It was a big deal for her to walk away. But she had to do it. I think she didn’t want to be saying other people’s words anymore.” Leslie recalls the bubbly dialogue Lewis would have to recite on screen and adds, “That’s just not where she was at in her life.”

Focusing on her own words, Lewis arrived instead at death, disease, loneliness, deflated dreams. Rilo Kiley’s 2002 breakthrough The Execution of All Things opens with a hushed monologue from Lewis about the melting ground. On the title track, she sings genially of a will to “murder what matters to you most and move on to your neighbors and kids.” Disguised by twee album art, Rilo Kiley created an indie rock uncanny valley, a sweet-sung pop moroseness of Morrissey-like proportions.

The centerpiece of Execution is a gritted-teeth fight song called “A Better Son/Daughter.” It bursts from a music-box twinkle to a monumental marching-band wallop, from a depressed paralysis to refurbished self-worth, from “your mother […] calling you insane and high, swearing it’s different this time” to “not giving in to the cries and wails of the Valley below.” In the past, Lewis has rarely discussed how her own biography fits into her songs, but the sense of hard-earned triumph and conviction powering this particular song is unequivocal. When I ask what might have inspired its climax—“But the lows are so extreme/That the good seems fucking cheap”—she simply remarks, “I mean everything I say.”

In 2006, Lewis wrote the fablistic title ballad of her solo masterpiece, Rabbit Fur Coat, to convey the feeling of her story—a mother waitressing on welfare in the Valley, the promise of a working child, a fortune that fades—if not the concrete details, which, she says, don’t really matter. But the haunting “Rabbit Fur Coat” laid her mythology bare. “I became a hundred-thousand-dollar kid/When I was old enough to realize/Wiped the dust from my mother’s eyes,” Lewis sings, the last line quivering into a moment of piercing a capella. “Is all this for that rabbit fur coat?”

I ask Lewis where she thinks her optimism comes from, and she just says “survival.” This summarizes an equation of emotional resilience that more women than not are tasked with solving young. “Jenny has basically been on her own her entire life,” says her best friend, the musician Morgan Nagler. “She’s the definition of buoyant.”

It’s hard to imagine rock in 2019 without Lewis’ radical honesty, without her hyper-lyrical mix of the sweet and the sinister. “In the early 2000s, the really big indie artists were Bright Eyes and Death Cab for Cutie, and Jenny was one of the only women fronting that kind of music,” says Katie Crutchfield, aka Waxahatchee. “But in the next generation after that in indie music, there are so many women. How could she not have been a huge part of that?”

Crutchfield, now an indie figurehead in her own right, says no songwriter has directly influenced her more than Lewis. When she was still a 20-year-old punk living in Alabama, Crutchfield got the cover of The Execution of All Things tattooed prominently on her arm. Lewis’ odd, poppy, poetic songs had a musicality she hadn’t found in punk, but they still spoke to her as an outcast.

Seeing Rilo Kiley play for the first time—at a Birmingham venue she would go on to play herself—was a watershed moment. Crutchfield and her two sisters stood front row center, sang every word, and cried. “It was so huge to see a woman on stage holding a guitar, being powerful but still very feminine,” Crutchfield says. “That was my first foray into seeing that as a possibility for myself.” She recalls the exact outfit Lewis wore that night: red leather skirt, knee socks, T-shirt tucked in, and “a belt that was like a ruler—something you would see on a teacher.”

When Eva Hendricks, singer of sugarrushing New York pop-rock band Charly Bliss, was still in high school, she would spend days writing Lewis’ lyrics in her notebooks over and over, becoming attuned to the virtues of unsparing openness in songwriting. “Listening to that music unlocked something I otherwise wouldn’t have been able to understand about myself,” says Hendricks, who also appreciated how Lewis never downplayed her femininity. She distinctly recalls going to a Lewis record signing around 2014’s The Voyager: “I waited in line and when it got to be my turn, the only thing I could think to say was, ‘I can’t believe that your voice is coming out of a real human being.’”

Harmony Tividad, of Girlpool, was 12 the first time she heard Rilo Kiley, and calls Execution’s “The Good That Won’t Come Out” one of her favorite songs of all time. “That song is more like a diary entry, and vulnerable in this way that feels like a secret,” Tividad says. The unvarnished album opener peaks with Lewis speak-singing, “You say I choose sadness, that it never once has chosen me/Maybe you’re right.”

“I was a really emotional, awkward young person and felt kind of socially trapped,” Tividad, now 23, reflects. “I was a freak. And that song is about exploring all of this stuff inside of yourself that you can’t really show people. It’s about isolation, which I have felt a lot. This music was a soundtrack to that recalibration of personhood. It was very integral in me developing a sense of self.”

Lewis has resided in the quiet show-biz neighborhood of Studio City—which she refers to as “Stud City”—for 11 years. She mentions that her current home is still, technically, located in the Valley, and shoots me a conspiratorial look: “Don’t tell anyone.” There are retro-looking landlines all around the house (cell service is poor), and eye-catching vintage Christmas bulbs strung in the kitchen window. The house was previously owned by the late Disney animator Art Stevens, who worked on Fantasia and Peter Pan. Standing amid dozens of plants in the little green room at the heart of her home, sipping a coconut La Croix, Lewis enthuses about Mort Garson’s obscure 1976 electronic record, called Mother Earth’s Plantasia. The whole place has an air of magic.

Its infrastructure has been unchanged for decades, which stuck out to a location scout for Quentin Tarantino’s upcoming Charles Manson film, who knocked on the door one day and asked to take some photos. He did not return, but his business card is on Lewis’ refrigerator, alongside one from legendary songwriter Van Dyke Parks, and a Bob Dylan backstage pass. The fridge is mostly covered with hospital stickers from when Lewis was visiting her mom, who died of cancer in 2017, and inspired her new song “Little White Dove.”

The other big change in Lewis’ life was the dissolution of her 12-year relationship with singer-songwriter Jonathan Rice—after which, to shake up the energy of the house, Lewis’ friend and photographer Autumn de Wilde painted the walls of her bedroom a striking shade of rose. Directly outside the door is a life-size photo of her best friend Morgan, and the window of her bedroom, spanning the right wall, looks out to a built-in pool. The sill holds carefully arranged objects: ruby slippers, her passport, a candle, a plethora of sunglasses, and a violet notebook labeled “Lewis homework for On the Line.”

Talking with Lewis, the despairing elephant in the room is Ryan Adams, who played on the album. Two weeks before we meet, Adams was accused of sexual misconduct and emotional manipulation from musician Phoebe Bridgers, his ex-wife Mandy Moore, and others, including a woman who was allegedly 14 at the time, prompting a criminal investigation by the FBI. “The allegations are so serious and shocking and really fucked up, and I was so sad on so many levels when I heard,” Lewis tells me. “I hate that he’s on this album, but you can’t rewrite how things went. We started the record together two years ago, and he worked on it—we were in the studio for five days. Then he pretty much bounced, and I had to finish the album by myself.”

“This is part of my lifelong catalog,” Lewis continues. “The album is an extension of that thing that started back at my mom’s house—I had to save myself and my music, and get away from the toxicity. Ultimately, it’s me and my songs. I began in my bedroom with a tape recorder, and it was like my own fantasy world. I’ve taken all these weird turns in my life—with mostly men, sometimes women—but I feel like I’m finally back to that place, which is autonomy.”

Though On the Line features an impressive array of players—Beck, Rolling Stones producer Don Was, Dylan drummer Jim Keltner, literally Ringo Starr—the album marks the first time Lewis has penned an album of songs solo, without co-writers, since Rabbit Fur Coat. “I’m not fully myself when I’m co-writing,” Lewis admits, describing a directness to the songs she’s penned with men, like Rilo Kiley’s “Portions for Foxes,” as opposed to songs she’s written alone, like “Silver Lining.” “With the songs I’ve co-written, it’s almost as if there’s a trimming of the emotional, rambling, poetic hysteria, which is where I live when I’m writing by myself,” Lewis says. “I don’t think of songs structurally. It’s a feeling, and I’m chasing the feeling.”

The cover of On the Line is a close-up of Lewis’ chest in an ornate blue gown. She chose the snapshot intuitively, from a pile of Polaroids taken by de Wilde, and only later recognized it as a deep homage to her mom, who once dressed similarly in Vegas and had an identical mole between her breasts. “Over the years I’ve become more comfortable in my skin,” Lewis says. “It’s funny to feel good in your skin when it’s not quite as tight as it used to be.”

With her voice sounding more refined than ever, On the Line finds Lewis singing about getting head in a black Corvette, feeling “wicked,” and—on the devastatingly delicate “Taffy”—sending nudes to a lover she knows will leave. “There’s a lot of fantasy in my songs,” Lewis tells me. “Sadly, I don’t get that much action. I should have gotten more.” She says she has always written about sex as “character projection,” but when she did so on Rilo Kiley’s final album, 2007’s Under the Black Light, it polarized fans. Lewis recalls one journalist who made a flow chart claiming to correlate the declining quality of the band’s music and the shrinking size of her hot pants. “It was so puritanical,” she says. But as the borders between the underground, mainstream, and genre have broken down, the artists who Lewis inspired are continuing to make space for more expansive expressions of sexuality.

The new record’s sound is warm and sleek, and when Lewis says she listened primarily to Kanye’s recent work while mixing it, I recall yet another wacky tale she shared with me at her house: Once, circa 2008, Lewis chanced upon Kanye at an airport. He played her a cut from 808s and Heartbreaks, and she played him her sprawling psych-rock triptych “The Next Messiah.”

Listening to On the Line, I find myself fixated on “Wasted Youth,” which uses a jaunty piano arrangement to deliver its neatly bleak refrain: “I wasted my youth on a poppy.” Lewis then slyly draws a line from the drugs to our numbing daily realities. When she sings, “Everybody knows we’re in trouble/Doo doo doo doo doo/Candy Crush,” I can feel my phone festering in my palm.

“I feel like that song is more about Candy Crush than heroin, if that’s even fucking possible,” Lewis says. “That’s the fuckin’ end: Candy Crush. It’s terrifying. I feel like my brain has been taken over by one of those weird fungi that grow out of the head of an ant in the rainforest. It’s like we’re spracked out on our Instagrams. It makes me feel like shit even talking about it.”

By the bridge, however, Lewis offers a blunt jolt of hope: “We’re all here, then we’re gone/Do something while your heart is thumping!” That’s a surprisingly heartening sentiment from a songwriter who has referred to herself as “a walking corpse,” who once made a springy emo anthem entitled “Jenny, You’re Barely Alive.”

“I’m in my 40s and something has shifted,” she says, when I ask what she does these days to help herself through. “Maybe you’re more aware of your own mortality, and have the balls to walk away from things, and be untethered, and do the reflection and the hard work—getting your ass out of bed and walking a couple miles, going to the gym, talking to a therapist.”

Lewis says her relationships with her female friends have deepened profoundly in recent years. “Maybe this is what we’re picking up on: the collective consciousness,” she says. “Women are talking to one another more. Reaching out to my girlfriends has helped me through these lessons that keep coming up. It’s the same lesson, where I’m like, ‘How am I in this situation with this fucking person that’s crazy… again? Why am I here and why have I stayed this long?’ And then my girlfriends are there to go: ‘Get the fuck out of there!’” (She is clear that this is not about her relationship with Rice, but rather about other romantic and working partnerships.)

I tell Lewis that these get-me-out predicaments remind me of her own song, “Godspeed,” from 2008’s Acid Tongue, which I had been revisiting quite a bit lately—a golden-hour piano ballad from one woman to another, a paean to “keep the lighthouse in sight,” to get “up and out of his house,” because “no man should treat you like he do.” “I wrote that for my friend,” Lewis says. “But maybe I wrote it for myself now.”

By the end of my time at Lewis’ house, the sun has set and we’re sitting in near total darkness, save for the neon pink glow of one of her many landlines. “You have to make a choice to be happy, or try to be,” Lewis insists. “Sometimes that involves moving away from people that you love, or that hurt you, or that are toxic. You have to find your bliss in life, right?”

I almost can’t believe that the same woman who provided me with my personal millennial-burnout anthems is asking me about unfettered joy—the artist who wrote the lyrics “I do this thing where I think I’m real sick, but I won’t go to the doctor to find out about it” and “I’m a modern girl but I fold in half so easily when I put myself in the picture of success” and “It must be nice to finish when you’re dead.” But I nod; it’s true.

[amorremanet]

OC asks/questions: 8, 15, 21, 25, 32? Also if that's not already too much: finish the sentence meme for Lucy?

Okay, I did intend to do the finish the sentence meme, but as it stands, it’s almost 4AM and I’ve been binge-watching old Outside X-Box list videos to stay awake, so…… I’ll get back to that one

8: What’s the most common physical characteristic of your OCs? What about personality trait?

Physically, a lot of my OCs are ridiculously tall. I blame having my concept of average human heights skewed when I was a child, due to having several ridiculously tall relatives, and then having my ideas further skewed in my adolescence by a mix of shoujo and magical girl anime/manga (where the hottest characters, like Tenou Haruka, or designated love interest characters, like Chiba Mamoru and Kashino Rei, the “troubled but cute” pretty boy from MARS, are tall), and the Vampire Chronicles (where most of the vampires are tall, beautiful, and incredibly gay or bisexual)

Personality-wise, “troubled but cute” is probably my most overused character type. Even more specifically, “troubled, but cute, and they have a good heart, they’re trying their best, but they’re still troubled and sometimes (often) make incredibly bad decisions because I felt like it would be a fun time to make them do so”

15: Do you have any AUs? — Short answer: yes. Longer answer: yes, and some of them are going to be canon, because I have the self-restraint of a magpie, and figured that…… eh, whatever, screw it, I’m nixing several of the other more credulity-straining and ridiculous elements of the by-its-very-nature ridiculous and credulity-straining superhero genre, so I can have a canon multiverse if I please. Which I do, because it’s fun. For me. Anyway, some of the canon AUs are:

The AU where most of the major points are still the same, but also, Silent Hill. Not that it will actually be called, “Silent Hill” because of blah blah copyright, but I primarily got the idea of, “horrible demonic monsters conjured out of people’s guilt and psychological issues” from the Silent Hill series, and I’m not going to pretend I didn’t.

Also, unlike Silent Hill proper, the nasty pieces of work in this universe do not have the decency to just stay confined to one small town in Middle of Nowhere, Maine. They’re everywhere.

Anyway, some of the characters from this AU get dragged into the prime timeline (tentatively) in book three, as part of a Totally Brilliant (not really) scheme by a handful of the fascist supervillain douchebags to distract that annoying ragtag band of misfit anti-fascist heroes from the actual evil plan going on. Nobody is happy about this.

Especially not when some of the monsters decide to join in on the universe-hopping fun-times. Whoops.

The AU where a lot of the major points are more or less the same, but human technology is more advanced and, in keeping with some of the more idealistic mid-20th century sci-fi concepts, while our cast in the prime timeline are dealing with neo-fascism and shit, humans in this AU are getting welcomed into It’s Not The Federation From Star Trek Because I Don’t Want to Get Sued, But It Is Basically The Same Idea, and dating aliens.

Pete’s AU counterpart got into what is basically an alien university’s MFA program in theatre. He’s the first Terran to do so, period. He has an alien boyfriend, he has never been to rehab (though, uh. He’s still an addict. And still using. So, there’s that), and his prime-timeline counterpart is going to initially think he’s pretty awesome, and progressively get super sick of basically everything about him.

The AU where Seb, Pete, Stephen, Josie, and Todd are essentially a boy band. Because of reasons. Anyone who gets dragged into the prime timeline from this AU is going to be really confused by literally everything else, because this AU is probably the closest one to how our own universe works, so like…… Imagine that you abruptly get yanked into [pick a superhero comic book universe], after a lifetime of believing that it’s all, “just stories.” It would be confusing and more than a bit alienating.

Which is not to say that this AU is all rainbows and kittens or whatever, but the problems facing the main cast are things like, “Everyone in the band has to be closeted because there’s still homophobia and transphobia,”

“Pete and Josie have probably never gotten treatment for their respective eating disorders, and Stephen may well have developed one from the fact that, boy bands are generally not allowed to have fat members, which would also mean that he’s ridiculously unhealthy since his body’s happy, healthy place? Just so happens to be fat,”

“On one hand, Todd and maybe Pete have probably never had substance abuse problems. But on the other hand, Seb still has and it’s probably very seriously exacerbated by several factors,” and so on.

Which isn’t to say that those things aren’t important and complicated problems, or that the prime timeline characters DON’T have to deal with similar things just because they’re in a superhero world (since…… they DO have to deal with those things or at least very similar ones)

But there’s a pretty significant difference between things like, “trying to stay clean” and, “trying to prevent a bunch of neo-fascist supervillain douchebags from staging a bullshit fake attack at a debate between potential Republican nominees for the US presidency, which will probably end up killing a bunch of people if it’s allowed to go on, and is part of a longer-running, slow-burn scheme to essentially make this dickbag senator from Virginia the President-in-All-But-Name”

And the boy band AU characters are super-unprepared to deal with the latter sort of problem

The AU where it’s a vaguely cyberpunk dystopia because I felt like it, that’s why.

The AU where instead of superpowers, everyone has magic

Which is going to frustrate Lucy to no end, when she has to meet her AU self from this universe, because sure, this AU has different systems and rules for how the magic works, but no one can tell her what the Hell makes it go aside from, “idk, it’s magic” and that’s not an acceptable explanation to her

—But, as she’s going to hear from someone, this isn’t actually any different from how superpowers work in the main timeline, like? They know that the superpowers are caused by genetic mutations. They can figure out different ways of handling said superpowers and systems of how to approach and understand them……

But if we look at Josie’s telepathy/empathy, Lucy’s hemokinesis, Sara Grace’s super-speed and neato super-voice tricks, Seb’s “they don’t call it lycanthropy but only because that’s already a thing; it’s essentially lycanthropy with a shot of therianthropy, animal empathy, and a healing factor that would make Deadpool jealous,” Yael’s ferrokinesis and magnetism powers, All-Star Doctor Delphi’s status as the resident flying brick with heat vision, Elizabeth’s telepathy/telekinesis, Conrad’s telepathy/mental manipulation, Julian’s empathic abilities and emotional manipulation that can be a super-effective Jedi Mind Trick and then some when used effectively, Sylvia and Vince’s essentially omni-shapeshifting, the fact that Annie can turn her own tears, saliva, and blood into all kinds of fun chemicals (from toxins and acids, to myriad medicines), ET CETERA?

……Yeah, uh. In the end, the best explanation that anyone has for why any of that works, in-universe, is essentially, “Because it just does.”

So… essentially the same explanation as, “A wizard did it,” but it’s pretending to be scientific.

Lucy does not like being confronted with this hypocrisy, but she’s just gonna need to put on her big girl shoes and deal with it.

The AU where I don’t actually have most of the details about it worked out, but in the prime timeline’s December 2007, it abruptly became the new home of All-Stars member Penumbra (nee Victoria Brandt) and supervillains Dr. Neutron and Necrotara. They all got dumped in it when Penumbra stopped them from unleashing a super-plague on New York City… by opening up a rift in space-time, throwing them into it, and plunging after them because that was the only way she knew to seal it before it ate New York.

This AU will also get dragged into the prime timeline, though: 1. that’s more of an accident because Titus, Dezi, Eddie, and Tamsin have no goddamn idea what they’re doing and are meddling with forces they can’t control (especially not Dezi and Eddie, who have no powers to speak of and are miserably inept at pretty much everything);

and 2. It’s a bigger deal to the All-Stars than to the main cast, especially to Ruby Marvel (Penumbra’s on-off girlfriend), Zephyr Haze (who really looked up to Penumbra, and she was one of the few team members who believed that he was ready to be anything more than Doctor Delphi’s sidekick), and Slingshot (her on-off boyfriend, who has totally failed to move on from what happened, and if not for Captain Firebrand and Platinum Man revoking his ability to get into R&D without a babysitter, he likely would’ve broken space-time to get Penumbra back years ago)

Like, I’m not saying, “He has handled this like Silver Age Spiderman trying to kill the Green Goblin as vengeance for Norman Osborne murdering Gwen Stacy.”

I’m saying, “Slingshot has handled Penumbra’s effective death like that thing I just said magnified by a power of ten because, as far as he knows, getting her back into the prime timeline could potentially be cataclysmic, and he does not care. He has also spectacularly failed to listen to any and all attempts at getting him to respect her choice here, and the only reason he hasn’t gone full grimdark like a mid-90’s to mid-2000’s Dark Age drama-bomb of toxic masculinity and manpain? Is that he isn’t allowed into R&D at All-Stars Tower without a babysitter.”

However this AU works, Adelaide’s AU counterpart is going to be kind of a mess at getting dragged into the prime timeline, on one hand because her prime timeline self doesn’t have powers but decided to affiliate herself with a bunch of heroes anyway (while dumpster fire AU!Adelaide has superpowers and has been a hero and it’s gone Other Than Well for her), and on the other because her prime timeline brothers are alive and haven’t gotten killed by her supervillain nemeses

Dumpster fire AU!Adelaide is going to be more of a mess over a lot of things like, “On one hand, her little brother lived past 20 and swears he’s got a good life and his boyfriend is nice (yay!), but on the other, he’s a mentally ill recovering addict and also a superhero and for some reason, her prime timeline self is, as far as dumpster fire AU!Adelaide can tell, just okay with this”

And, “Her prime timeline self has a niece who actually knows what it’s like to have a father in her life, because dumpster fire AU!Adelaide’s Max got killed off while Linda was pregnant and Linda is probably a great single mom, but dumpster fire AU!Adelaide wouldn’t know because after Seb and Ambrose had both gotten killed (albeit by different villains), the common theme that emerged was the boys getting killed by supervillains and having a superhero sister, and okay, Linda did not explicitly blame Adelaide (Linda’s feelings about all of this are conflicted and messy)

“—but dumpster fire!Adelaide decided that the best thing to do was to basically cut herself off from friends, family, and loved ones, barring her AU’s Pete, who has become her co-hero, and a dog, because like her baby brother, Adelaide loves dogs and sometimes uses them as a substitute for interpersonal contact and connections”

Prime timeline Addie is seriously weirded out by her AU self’s complete lack of chill. Which says a lot, because Addie-prime actively repels anything that even vaguely resembles chill.

The AU where Margot and Seb didn’t get to be friends in undergrad, and her parents never disowned her, and she wound up filthy rich in her own right and having far fewer near brushes with death…… but also wound up: closeted and basically leading a double-life to keep from getting outed; very lonely; more miserable than she would like to think; and taking more than a few cues from Adrian “Ozymandias” Veidt of Watchmen

—Which is to say that, while she still doesn’t have any literal superpowers, she is deeply closeted and convinced that the only way to save humanity from itself might just need to involve doing something extreme that successfully makes humanity put aside their differences and unite against a perceived larger threat (and also distracts them so that Margot and her loosely affiliated AU associates can, “solve the underlying problems” unimpeded)

As prime timeline Margot will definitely point out: ideas like that literally only work on paper or in theory. In practice, humans are chaotic and messy and impossible to predict with any real accuracy, so there is no possible way to guarantee that killing a bunch of people and blaming it on aliens or whatever will make everyone decide to get along and sing songs underneath of a rainbow like some vintage Coca-Cola commercial.

Oh, and if Ozymandias AU!Margot actually thinks that nobody will notice if she and her cohorts, what, like…… use the world banks to redistribute the world’s wealth and make sure that the 1% can’t get it back (which would include AU!Margot herself and her cohorts, even though most of them don’t know she’s planning to do that), change a bunch of laws and policies they don’t agree with, and institute some kind of secret shadow government over the entire world?

Here’s a hint, Ozymandias AU!Margot: people will definitely notice that, and a lot of them won’t be too keen on letting you get away with it.

Furthermore, not only will people definitely notice that, but it won’t actually fix things as much as you want it to do. It would have some benefits, sure, and some of the ideas you’re trying to put into practice here are not inherently bad — like redistributing the wealth and putting hella restrictions on the same patterns of capitalist exploitation that made you rich in the first place — but one of the underlying flaws in AU!Margot’s approach is that, again, she’s ignoring the human element of everything

In other words: sure, redistributing the wealth is a nice idea and it would definitely have some positive benefits, but you cannot magic away the scars of aforementioned capitalist exploitation by throwing money at them, nor should you expect people who have been exploited, dehumanized, murdered, etc. under said patterns to not be upset about their suffering just because they now have money.

More generally, expecting people to always react in predictable ways is a bad idea. Expecting people to be okay with things that you erroneously think you would totally be okay with, if you were in their position is a bad idea. Behaving like a supervillain, even if you think you’re doing it for the right reasons and even if there might be some temporary short-term benefits? Is a BAD IDEA (especially when your plans have some major, egregious oversights).

Also, ew, Ozymandias AU!self, but out of all the ladies with whom you could be having a secret affair, why the fuck are you having it with your AU’s Melanie Drake (the firstborn daughter of the guy who the prime timeline Biggest Bad wants to put in power as his puppet, who is, herself, an active and enthusiastic participant in fascist supervillain hijinks).

In Ozymandias AU!Margot’s defense, her universe’s Melanie still has the conviction that everything she’s doing is for the Greater Good, but although she hasn’t gotten away from her nuclear reactor meltdown of an abusive shit-show family, she did come to believe in a different vision of, “the Greater Good.”

I mean. The nicest thing that can be said about it is that her vision of, “the Greater Good” isn’t a fascistic one and is, much like Ozymandias AU!Margot’s entire scheme, largely born out of good or at least okay-ish intentions, but really fucked up wrt the execution. But it’s not like Ozymandias AU!Margot is having a secret sexy affair with a neo-fascist supervillain.

She’s…… uh. Having a secret sexy affair with someone else who, in their AU, considers herself to be, “one of the heroes that this world needs but won’t accept,” and both of them are pretty fucked up, morally and ethically speaking, though not so much so that they wouldn’t be horrified by the Melanie of the prime timeline (who is, in fairness, pretty horrific. She’s also engaged to Titus, who is equally horrible but for some different reasons)

Anyway, the point is that Margot-prime super doesn’t expect any Melanie to be the secret girlfriend for any of her AU selves, and she’s really not happy about it, but also biased due to shit like, “Melanie-prime is an actual facts fascist supervillain”

And shit like, “Melanie-prime has hurt Margot-prime’s friends, and no, she doesn’t care that it was always in a superhero vs. supervillain fight, or that Seb has a healing factor, or that Pete accidentally made shit get violent on at least one occasion by running his mouth when he knew that he should have shut up, or that Lucy has run headlong into situations where a little bit of chill could’ve gone a long way and then people started throwing punches, la la la, go away context, Margot can’t hear you, Melanie has hurt her friends And That’s Terrible”

The mundane AU where, in addition to not being superheroes, Seb and Stephen met each other about ten years earlier and were a lot less gun-shy about being super into each other, not least because neither of them had been burned too badly in romance before (even given that they’d both had some negative experiences with it), and while both of them still had some big deal underlying issues with self-esteem, neither of them played any weird little head-games with himself to the tune of, “Oh, I shouldn’t voice my interest because he’s probably not interested in me because reasons, he’s probably just being nice”

On one hand, this AU wound up sparing both of them certain shitty experiences that their prime-timeline counterparts dealt with in their 20’s (not all of them, granted, and like — this AU’s Seb is still a recovering addict, and this AU’s Stephen has still dealt with a ton of bullshit about body image and fatphobia).

But on the other, they broke up and it’s…… amicable? Mostly? But still kind of emotionally tense for several reasons, not least of which is how instead of playing any, “he’s probably not really interested” head-games with themselves at the outset of their relationship and working through it, they were together for a long time, and danced around the idea of getting married…

…but neither of them told the other about wanting to get married because each of them thought that the other would never be into that idea because Reasons. Presumptions were made, miscommunication ensued, they eventually split up, each of them took it as a definite sign of, “I was right, he never would’ve been into getting married,” and they’ve mostly moved on and repaired the non-romantic friendship parts here.

Until they get dragged into the prime timeline and find that their counterparts are significantly more messed up as individuals but actually making a relationship work, but also at a point of, “They’ve been having some issues that have nothing to do with the superhero thing, and each of them is kind of seriously thinking about proposing but keeps getting cold feet about it”

Watching your alternate universe selves get engaged in the middle of a drag show on one of their birthdays is…… special.

Doing so after telling one or the other of them why you ever broke up is…… uh. Let’s just call it, “double special” and move on.

Also, powerless AU!Seb…… will be really conflicted about his prime timeline self being a superhero, partly out of concern (since this hero business seems to be working out okay, but it all sounds stressful and dangerous, and yes, Seb-prime literally can’t get intoxicated anymore — at least, not on any of the, “normal stuff,” i.e., “psychoactive substances that were not created by other mutants” — but…… how is being a superhero NOT a relapse trigger waiting to happen. To paraphrase Joan Watson, how is being a superhero NOT a giant gun filled with drugs and alcohol, pointed right at Seb-prime)

…partly out admiration (because the superhero stuff actually is working out decently, and powerless AU!Seb has to respect his prime timeline counterpart’s hijinks and dedication to helping people)

……and partly out of jealousy and getting kicked in the, “you’re kind of a worthless fuck-up, aren’t you?” feelings

because yes, powerless!Seb has found his own bliss in academia, and he is more or less at peace with it, most of the time……

but he’s torn because he wants to be helping people, and he largely went down the academic track to help himself

—which, in this case, means, “to something to work on and do with himself that wouldn’t feel like a complete waste of time, even if it didn’t exactly make him feel fulfilled, because he needed something to do other than, ‘try to find peace and sobriety by isolating himself from as much of life as possible,’” so it’s not like he is being selfish in a way that actively screws over anyone else; he is being selfish in a way that displays self-preservation—

—and okay, powerless!Seb has a list of things that he tries to tell himself about how this life-choice isn’t antithetical to the idea of helping people because he mentors students, and his research helps in X or Y or Z convoluted fashion, and he uses his access to academic databases to get around paywalls for other people who don’t have that access and to then hook them up with what they need……

But that’s still not the kind of helping people that he wanted to get into and it doesn’t really feel like he’s helping anyone, and it’s a pretty big kick in the stomach for him to get yanked into the prime timeline and see Seb-prime… actively helping other people as a superhero and ostensibly doing better at staying sober because of the superhero thing, rather than in spite of it, and what the fuck, how is this FAIR, how come he can do that and powerless!Seb CAN’T)

Even without the part where Seb-prime literally can’t get intoxicated on, “the normal stuff” anymore, the situation is a lot more complicated than powerless!Seb thinks it is, but in fairness to him, he’s probably only been stuck in this unfamiliar timeline for two weeks, max, when he has this little jealousy-induced meltdown

He probably ends up getting helped to chill out by Stephen-prime, which is its own messy and confusing kettle of monkeys for both parties because of intricate, complicated ontological questions like, “Is it cheating if I don’t actually do anything with my (ex-)boyfriend’s alternate universe counterpart, but feel attracted to him and definitely THINK about doing things with him?”

……The sad part is that all four of these losers WOULD actually make that complicated question, but it would be less because of the actual thorny issues about being and the nature of existence, and more because all of them would have a mental double-standard like, “Well, if I did it, then it would definitely be wrong, but it wouldn’t be wrong if my boyfriend did it because of reasons”

Seb and Stephen-prime may not need to deal with that specific question but the whole underlying, “Things that other people are allowed to do are wrong when I do them because of reasons” business is something they have to suck it up and work on, as individuals and in the context of their relationship

The AU where Josie actually got to go into fashion design, because they didn’t have their entire career ruined before it began by a mix of a douchebag ex-boyfriend whose parents were in good with Anna Wintour, and an abrupt, stress-triggered anorexic relapse that led to an even more stressful superpower awakening

Keeping with the, “mirror mirror on the wall, it’s fuck with my characters o’clock, let’s go…… all” theme among a lot of these AUs and the different respective versions of the characters, fashionista AU!Josie has a lot of things that Josie-prime wants and a lot of aspects of their life make Josie-prime jealous, but they are actually a huge mess in their own right

I’m still working out how, exactly, they are a huge mess, and so far, all I’ve really thought of is that it would amuse me if they were dating their AU’s Todd, but I’m not sure where I want to go with that and it’s also not actually going to be an issue for a while yet, so the idea has time to percolate

and the canonical coffee-shop AU.

The canonical coffee-shop AU is a horrifying dystopia where the bad guys won before most of the main cast were even ten years old — like, that AU’s Lucy and Sara Grace literally have no conscious memories of life ever being any different, they were that young when everything went to Hell — and that AU’s version of Senator Huntington (R-Virginia), the aforementioned Biggest Bad, took a lot of cues from Brave New World about how to run his dystopia

Like, there are several things that he would nix

e.g., the ostensible sex-positivity and alleged sexual equality of Aldous Huxley’s dystopia that is, in its own way, just another way of creating sex/gender-based INequality and blah blah blah

That would go right out the window because as far as dystopias go, wrt sex and the (im)morality thereof? Huntington thinks that Margaret Atwood’s Republic of Gideon from The Handmaid’s Tale had more or less the right idea, though he would also acquiesce that, if you want it to work, you’d need to build up to that, rather than dumping it on everyone all at once

He would also nix some of the more scientific aspects of the BNW dystopia, because he realizes that they’re not actually as likely to work out decently as Huxley seems to have thought in the novel

Like, Huntington would definitely still want there to be several strata of social inequalities that all serve to support a big pyramid that he can be on top of

……but he wouldn’t want to have those things artificially created in a lab because he thinks that sex is the best way to control a lot of the people under his power because even the ones who aren’t “perverts” — which, to him, means basically everyone who isn’t a heterosexual who only ever wants to have sex in the missionary position for the express purpose of procreation — are still “weakened” by their dependence on human connections (read: any desire to have meaningful human connections), and all of them inevitably want those connections to be expressed through sex because they’re all idiots in the end

For the record: Huntington’s attitude about sex is derived from the attitudes of real-world right-wing Christians in the States who love to play the game of shaming anyone who has any sexual desires, ever, because even though they also say that said desires come from God because they’re expressions of love and whatnot, they could just as easily come from Satan if the preacher in question doesn’t approve of them, personally.

The religious aspect only seems pasted-on whenever Huntington talks about any of this because…… Well, for him? It is. He doesn’t actually believe in God, or Jesus, or much of anything beyond his own power and his own right to have whatever he wants because he showed up and decided he deserves it.

Any time he talks about God or religion, he’s merely catering to his constituents by playing a version of himself who DOES believe in God because he’s reasonably certain he would never hold any elected office if he didn’t project the image of being a righteous, God-fearing man who is filled with the love of Jesus. But I digress.

So, yeah. Brave New!Huntington wouldn’t want to have all of his social inequalities baked into the population due to how people are grown in laboratories, but the general idea of, “keep the populace medicated into submission, throw them some bread and circuses and maybe a bit of pasted-on happiness, don’t let them think for themselves but give them the illusion of thinking for themselves, etc.”? Huntington is all about that.

Another reason why he vetoes the, “let’s grow all humans in laboratory test tubes lmao” idea is that he figures he can better play into the idea of all people being essentially equal, which helps keep the populace docile as long as they believe in it, if he lets them handle their own relationships and procreation. Like, regulate it in certain ways, and only give The Gay Agenda (i.e., everyone who isn’t straight) as much wiggle room as will keep them from noticing that equality is a lie, but don’t interfere too much because getting hung up on all that interpersonal drama keeps them from noticing the actual problems

Either way, the canonical coffee-shop AU is a horrid, dystopian hellscape and the main cast’s counterparts in that AU are okay with their lots in life — where, for example, Conrad actually is just a wacky eccentric uncle and not using that façade to try and teach Marie a kiddie version of Why Fascism Is Totally Cool, just in case she ends up being a mutant too, and Julian is a provocateur in that he argues with anyone who tries to sit in His Spot at the coffee-shop, rather than because he uses his platform and charisma to pick at prejudices and stir the pot in ways that incite violence — because they’re all drugged, they’re all being lied to, some of them don’t remember life ever being anything else, and when some of them get yanked into the prime timeline, uh.

Well.

That will be interesting to me, personally, because there’s going to be a lot of disagreement among all involved parties about all of this and what it all means

But ngl, this canonical AU literally started because I was reading coffee-shop AU superhero fics, looking at my own ragtag bunch of superheroic misfits, and going, “God, what WOULD it take for them to actually exist in a coffee-shop AU? Because the conventional coffee-shop AU set-up wouldn’t even allow for any of them to be recovering addicts or abuse survivors, much less actively upset about any injustices in the world (beyond maybe being a Soapbox Sadie type for a scene or two before getting swept up in the inevitable romance that will dominate literally everything about the fic) or affected by shit like homophobia, racism, ableism, sexism, etc. (because if we dealt with those issues, it might not be sexy or romantic, or at the very least, it would seriously distract from the OTP and their amazing love story). The most anyone is ever allowed to be in a coffee-shop AU is pleasantly eccentric or Troubled But Cute With The Emphasis On Cute”

Which is all a long-form way of saying that I came up with an entire canonical dystopian coffee-shop AU in a thought exercise that came out of being tolerant of coffee-shop AUs but also really bored with them and low-key frustrated about their dominance of fanfiction things for the past few years because while I understand the appeal of the escapism that’s inherent in most of them (and there are some that I even enjoy), I find it kind of depressing that so many of them end up being such that you could probably find and replace the names of one fandom’s characters with another fandom’s characters and it would essentially be the same story, and all of the things that drew people to the original stories will be gone while almost none of the problems of the original stories will actually be fixed (—and at that, the most likely, “fixing” is probably going to be, “a white cis M/M otp is injected into things where, in their respective canon, they are Just Dudes Bein’ Bros”)

……Which is a long-form way of saying that I did the thing out of frustration with coffee-shop AUs (and probably a bit because rereading all the classic dystopian lit pieces at once isn’t really the best idea ever, whoops)

21: Describe each of your OCs as shittily as possible.

okay, I did these all out of order, and after going in so hard on the AUs and polyships questions, it’s 3:15 in the morning and I’m just going to phone this in

Sebastian: yes, he’s a human disaster and a serious mess, but at least he’s trying, okay

Pete: local man delivers scathing verbal smackdown and makes you say, “thanks” for the honor

Margot: the mean chain-smoking lesbian with a heart of gold that your parents didn’t warn you about but should have, probably

Josie: local goth makes everyone else look under-dressed, feels bad about things

Todd: hipster garbage who isn’t nearly as underground as he thinks

Lucy: okay but have you guys considered how superpowers could be used to address public health crises

Stephen: the human embodiment of that moment when you get so excited about the punchline of the joke you’re telling that you laugh at it preemptively and can’t finish the joke but hey, at least everyone is smiling now, right

Sara Grace: local ballerina princess will probably never get over her physical inability to cuddle every cat on the planet

Conrad: “hey why are you getting upset i’m just trying to deny your right to be considered fully human unless you fit my specific ideas about what that is lmao”

Julian: sinnamon roll that you bought at a backwoods gas station at three in the morning, then lost on the floor of your car for two years, and now it’s all grody and probably a biohazard

Annie: perpetually screaming, just at life in general

Adelaide: she’s not telling you what to do, she’s just saying that her way is probably better even when it likely isn’t

Yael: is probably your favorite Jewish lesbian grandma, unless you think that she should chill, in which case not so much

Max: had his younger sister be his best man when he got married, out of his depth with most things, *glinting glasses of intimidation*

25: What sorts of symbols/items/~aesthetics~/colours represent each OC?

and it is now 3:30 and I’ve got absolutely nothing for this one beyond the fact that Margot, Josie, and Pete all wear a lot of black

Josie because they’re still something of a teenage goth queen at heart despite being a responsible adult

Margot because it’s both professional and somewhat intimidating, which she likes because she’s compensating for only being 4’11”

and Pete says it’s because he works in the theatre, which isn’t wrong, but even if he didn’t, he’d still wear a lot of black because he thinks it looks good on him (which is fair enough because it does)

Conrad and Max are associated with gray (though Conrad is also associated with white and “that annoying shade of blonde that is very nearly white but not exactly; the Draco Malfoy or Any Given Member Of House Targaryen shade of blonde”)

Sebastian gets a lot of dog associations (partly because he has six of them and partly because he is, as mentioned, essentially a werewolf though that does slightly depend on your definition of, “werewolf”)

and Stephen loves hot pink and eye-searing acid green, sometimes simultaneously

32: Do you have any polyam ships with your OCs?

Well, I already sort of went there in the AUs question, but personally, I would love Seb-prime/powerless!Seb/powerless!Stephen/Stephen-prime — but in general, I always love any and all ships that involve selfcest, whether they’re polyships or not, so I don’t really think this one counts

The polyship that I’ve probably given the most thought to so far is Seb/Stephen/Todd, and ngl, I’ve given it said thought largely due to the fact that……… well.

I wouldn’t call them a love triangle, exactly, but let’s be real: SMeyer and SCollins didn’t want to call Bella/Edward/Jacob and Gale/Katniss/Peeta, “love triangles” either, and while I’d agree that the latter case is a bit more complicated due to how Katniss spends the majority of the series having no interest in either one of the boys involved, the Twilight example is definitely a love triangle, and anyway, my point is that I’m no better than SMeyer and SCollins about going, “Oh, it’s not a love triangle!” because I fear the messy associations that come with accusations of writing love triangles even when I am blatantly doing so

And in general, I do believe in the sentiment of, “Less love triangles, more functional polyamory” — but the, “functional” part of that is a big reason why Seb/Stephen/Todd is not going to canonically go in the polyamory direction. It could, and given the canonical multiverse, there are definitely a few universes where it does

But in the prime timeline, a polyamorous relationship with those three would probably be a disaster — and frankly, a lot of it would be on Todd because Seb and Stephen both also have issues with communicating, self-esteem, honesty (with Stephen’s issue being more that he encourages everyone else to be honest while also trying to at least partially censor his own feelings in the interests of keeping the peace, while Seb’s issue is that he constantly lies to himself to try and convince himself that everything is fine because he feels like he’d just muck up everything for everyone by ever being Not Fine), and a laundry list of other things

But they’re also trying to work on those things.

Stephen is at a better place, wrt self-awareness and working on things, than Seb is, but he’s also been working on it longer and, for all the missteps he’s admittedly had in it because that’s just a part of this process for everyone, he didn’t have to deal with things like, “the aftermath of being kidnapped and shot by ecoterrorist ex-boyfriend who was not happy about getting dumped by a junky”

Or things like, “help, my brother’s unctuous brother-in-law keeps trying to befriend me after I drunkenly sucked his dick at my brother’s wedding reception and unwittingly broke up the marriage that I didn’t know the brother-in-law had, he keeps trying to befriend me despite my vocal lack of interest in being friends with him, also he’s been telepathically fucking with me for about eleven years”

Todd, on the other hand, has the self-awareness of a toothbrush, and that is a massive insult to toothbrushes.

He has worked on SOME things about himself, but usually only to the extent that he needs to work on them in order to feel like he’s doing an okay job on his own sobriety (which, in fairness, he is, but acting like sobriety is his only problem ever is disingenuous as Hell), and he isn’t working on most of his non-sobriety-related problems because, bless his heart, he doesn’t realize that they are problems.

I mean, this is a guy who is going to crash Seb and Stephen’s first morning after by showing up on Seb’s doorstep on a Sunday morning with a bunch of junk from his apartment, going, “Hey, so, I don’t mean to be a buzzkill when you look weirdly happy for once because it’s good that you look happy, I support you being happy, but also I might be getting kicked out of my place tomorrow and may also have been lying to you for several months about whether or not I needed money because I was totally sure that I could get everything figured out and then I didn’t but I didn’t want you to worry or try to pay for everything like a sugar daddy just because you CAN pay for it, and anyway, is one of your spare rooms open and…… oh. Hi, Stephen. ……He’s pretty shirtless for coming over for breakfast, isn’t he. Why are you wearing a shirt and he’s not.”

“Because he wasn’t cooking bacon and I was?”

“…………*slowly puts two and two together and realizes what he’s crashing* Ohhhh. Um. ……I can go bug Pete or Margot—”

“They don’t have room for you at their places—”

“So, can I stay?”

“Yes, obviously, but can we also talk about this? Like, maybe not right now, but in general, there are a lot of things that I’d like to talk about here???”

“………Why? Do you want to, like, charge rent or something?”

“No, god, why would I want to do that to you, but????”

So, yeah.

In fairness, Todd has a lot of good points. But he is also really bad at a lot of the things that you NEED if you don’t want a polyamorous relationship to completely implode — like communication, honesty, self-awareness, etc. — and he’s only going to start working on any of this when he finally realizes that…… oh. He’s jealous of Stephen and has been jealous of all of Seb’s previous boyfriends too, but in most of those cases, he also had some other reason to dislike them

For example: Harry was cheating on Seb with a Julliard violinist (who knew that Harry was also sleeping with Seb, but Seb had no idea that Harry’s violinist friend was his “real boyfriend”);

Francis was an ecoterrorist and admitted as much on their first date (though, as Seb has pointed out to several people, what kind of ecoterrorist actually admits to being one on a first date, so he feels he was justified in not believing Francis here), then shot Seb in the back, after kidnapping him and holding him for ransom in a basement in Ossining, all because Francis didn’t appreciate being dumped, especially not by a junky;

Josh didn’t really see the difference between rough sex and domestic violence, and was inadvertently responsible for Seb being the first family member to show up for the birth of his niece…… because he took Seb to the ER after giving him a concussion that made him seem to lose consciousness during sex (not that Josh stopped fucking him during), and then left him there “because he had something big to handle for work” (i.e., because he didn’t want to be there in case anyone called the cops), and while Seb was going to leave, he happened to see Max and Linda checking in and decided to just stay;

Rémy liked erotic asphyxiation but did not like asking for consent, and also had a thing for giving his partners rohypnol (again, without their consent), and he got away with it with Seb because, by the time they dated, Seb was no stranger to having intoxication-induced blackouts, and it was easy to tell him that he must’ve had too much to drink (and because of the way his half-latent healing factor and toxin filtering handled rohypnol, it was basically impossible for him to tell the difference between that and any of his more usual mixes of intoxicants);

Byron was a supervillain henchman-for-hire and also had a stunning lack of boundaries;

and Julian was mostly just annoying when he and Seb dated, and the worst part, at the time, was that they both tried to be helpful and supportive for each other but actually wound up exacerbating a lot of their respective issues, and now, he’s one of the less-bad exes but only because, “sends drunk texts to a recovering addict and unsolicited dick pics” is clearly on a very different level from, “gave Seb a concussion and ditched him at the ER” and, “literally shot him in the back”

(and then, when his involvement with the baddies comes out, he sort of skyrockets up the list of bad idea exes, but in fairness to Seb here, Julian didn’t get recruited by said baddies until after the second time that they broke up).

So, yeah, Todd has not been short on legitimate reasons to hate a lot of Seb’s boyfriends, and said legitimate reasons have allowed him to avoid dealing with his own jealousy for a while.

The fact that he and Seb have full-on dated before also helped for a while, as did the standing friends with benefits/“it’s complicated” that they’re in at the start of the story…… but see, Todd has always kind of been hoping that this would turn back into romance at some point

See, for all he isn’t self-aware about most things, he’s done enough work on himself to know that he is still in love with Seb (who does reciprocate but has an easier time reading Latin, or Proust in the original French, than he does of knowing what his feelings are doing and being able to verbalize it effectively)

So, Todd’s been leaving their relationship open-ended so he won’t have to feel like he’s tying Seb down to something Seb might not want. The idea that Seb might actually want it does occur to Todd, but he also dismisses the idea as completely ridiculous and silly, all out of some ridiculous idea that of course Seb wouldn’t want to be with him again for real, not until he perfectly self-actualizes in some completely unattainable way (which he doesn’t realize is completely unattainable because, bless his heart, Todd doesn’t get that he will never be satisfied with his ridiculous and ill-defined goalposts on the path to becoming his idea of what Seb’s perfect version of him is)

This is made all the worse by the fact that all Seb wants Todd to be, and all that he has ever wanted Todd to be, is himself.

He has said so practically since their first ever conversation, and the romantic subtext was there for him from the start of it all because when he went up to the cute bespectacled chubby guy in the Pink Flamingos t-shirt after the freshman orientation week meeting of the campus LGBTQ student union, Seb totally meant to ask Todd out.

Unfortunately, he got nervous, excited, an odd and potent mix of tongue-tied and rambling, and overwhelmed by how starved he was to make more friends (seeing as his only friend, at that time, was Pete, who was about an hour or so north, once you factor in getting to Grand Central, taking the Metro North to the right stop, and then either meeting him at the station or getting to his campus)

So, the romantic intentions got rather garbled and turned into a platonic-sounding coffee invitation, and as much as Seb had wanted to ask Todd out, he was okay with this at the time because he was en eighteen-year-old extrovert who’d spent his last two years of high school with only one real friend, who wasn’t even at his school because Pete was already in college, and in a school environment that was so emotionally shitty that his parents saw facilitating his trips down to see Pete and all their weird misadventures in the City not as a special treat but as what they needed to do for the sake of their son’s wellbeing

Either way, Todd misses the, “be yourself, that’s it, that’s all he has ever wanted, you colossal tool” point by a long-shot

So, by the time the story starts, Todd is working (he thinks) on his amazing and totally foolproof plan to become exactly what Seb deserves even if (he maintains) Seb doesn’t realize that he deserves it, Seb feels like there’s no way that Todd is still into him and feels like Todd is probably only hooking up with him until someone better comes along and is a hopeless romantic who’s pessimistic about love but also about most things in general, and their lack of talking about things is a Problem

It’s a Problem that Pete calls Seb out on, though in fairness, he brings that up less as a dig at the relationship and more because it’s part of Seb’s larger problems

But then, as part of his, “I am totally going to get my shit together, yeah!” “““plan””” (read: half-baked notion that he is at least really committed to), Seb decides to ask Stephen out (because Pete was just going down a list of things Seb could work on and one of them was, “Figure out your shit with Todd and either work things out with him or move the fuck on instead of mooning over him like you’re fucking twelve,” and Seb did the impulsive thing to go, “Oooh, look, not mooning over Todd now, am I”)

Seb doesn’t expect it to go anywhere because he doesn’t think Stephen could actually be interested in him literally ever, so he’s trying not to get his hopes up or end up feeling anything — except he does both of those things AND, due to how the events play out leading up to things, Seb’s just realized that he does still have feelings for Todd, and now, he’s not sure what to do and has to figure out his shit

The final nail in the coffin is that Todd, after several weeks of blowing off Seb’s attempts to talk about things (because you don’t need to talk about things if you just pretend they’re fine and stay the course, right?), gives him what is essentially an, “It’s not you, it’s me” line, and because, “It’s not you, it’s me” is so often used to break up with someone gently (including by Seb in different previous relationships), Seb takes it as them being done romantically and decides that they should stop having sex, too, so he can get serious with Stephen.

So, Todd has to live with the fact that he’s the one who opened the door to let Seb get serious with Stephen, and deal with his jealousy, which he can’t get out of at least recognizing because he can’t find a single thing about Stephen that indicates that he isn’t as kind and good as he seems. It’ll be good for him. He gets to grow as a person thanks to fucking this up for himself and unwittingly getting one of his best friends to commit to an actual decent relationship.

Then there’s the issue of Todd and Stephen’s leg of the relationship, but once Todd sorts his shit out about being a jealous little turd, they will actually get along just fine

They will probably end up having a bonding moment where they get laughing about weird or mildly irksome but not troublesome things that Sebastian does, because I love scenes like that

But, still. As a poly ship, I don’t actually see them working out in the prime timeline.

[aaroncutler]

Sunrise as Comedy [by David Kalat]

June 11th: The following text was written by film critic and historian David Kalat on the occasion of this year’s F.W. Murnau retrospective at the Brazilian festival Olhar de Cinema. Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans screens in the festival June 11th and 12th. More information about the retrospective can be found in English at http://olhardecinema.com.br/2017/en/2017/retrospective-f-w-murnau/ and http://olhardecinema.com.br/2017/en/screenings-2/#.retrospective, and in Portuguese at http://olhardecinema.com.br/2017/2017/olhar-retrospectivo-f-w-murnau/ and http://olhardecinema.com.br/2017/filmes/#.olhar-retrospectivo.

Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau’s Sunrise is the dictionary definition of a classic film. It won (for all intents and purposes) the first ever Academy Award, has been placed on the National Registry, and was the first silent film put out on Blu-Ray.  It routinely places in “Best Of” lists, it’s a picture whose artistry is intended to be accessible to mass audiences.  It is conventionally beautiful, conventionally narrative, conventionally stirring.  It needs no apologies or excuses, it’s just excellent in every way.  

But did you know it was a comedy?

Consider the basic premise: Sunrise presents a sexy, vampish “Woman of the City” who invades a rural idyll where her very presence corrupts a naïve young man.  In order to pursue this temptress, the young man comes to believe his only escape from his existing small-town romance is to kill his girl, which he utterly fails to accomplish, and thereby sets in motion the plot developments of the rest of the film.

Just six months before Sunrise hit theaters, American audiences saw the exact same plot in Harry Langdon’s comedy Long Pants!

In this context, it’s worth remembering that Langdon’s film crossed enough taboos (or do I mean tabus?) that some audiences didn’t find it funny at all.  Meanwhile, Murnau does pitch Sunrise like a comedy, and its contents are not very much distinguishable from what constituted comedies of the same period. For example, Sunrise’s main characters go on a date to a carnival, where they run into money problems and an out-of-control animal (see Harold Lloyd’s Speedy), and the film climaxes with a catastrophic storm (see Buster Keaton’s Steamboat Bill, Jr.)

The young man (George O’Brien) rows out to the middle of the lake with his trusting wife (Janet Gaynor) where he intends to drown her.  But when push comes to shove, as it were, he loses his resolve and rows mindlessly to the opposite shore, where they board a trolley car.  And in one of the most astonishing sequences in all of cinema, the shell-shocked couple gather their wits as they are transported from what might as well be a medieval village straight out of Nosferatu through a forest to an industrial patch and finally arriving in a futuristic Metropolis, all in the span of a couple of minutes.  There is no such trolley ride anywhere in the world—this thing might as well be a time machine.

The transformation is absolute.  The opening scenes take place in a silent movie world of exaggerated gestures and portentous symbolism.  But the city reveals more naturalistic acting, more observational in tone.  And the city scenes are obsessed with the details of the setting—the cars, the clothes, the architecture, the store fronts, the people-watching, the traffic.

Dramas do not often get bogged down in such observational fascination with their setting.  Although it happens sometimes (as with the semi-documentary approach of Billy Wilder’s People on Sunday, or perhaps Robert Wise’s Star Trek: The Motion Picture), this is a technique more familiar from comedies, where the observational detail is part of establishing the ironic commentary. Think Jacques Tati’s Playtime, or Chaplin’s City Lights, or Jean Renoir’s Boudou Saved From Drowning, or just about anything by Harold Lloyd.

Murnau introduces two outsiders into this cityscape—scraggly, haggard refugees from a horror film who have stumbled into this world in a state of high emotional dudgeon and will encounter it as if they are visitors from another planet. Again, the parallel is to a comedy’s structure, with the outsider hero(es) providing for a commentary on the world around them.  Charlie Chaplin rarely stumbled into any of his adventures after a botched murder attempt, but all Murnau has done is to provide a context for his protagonists’ alienation where someone like Chaplin uses his costume as a shortcut to the same ends.  Like Boudou or Mr. Hulot, George and Janet are outsiders invading this space.  We will witness its familiar contours through their eyes.

Setting in a film in the juxtaposition of old versus new has been a central recurring feature of many important comedies (Steamboat Bill, Jr., Mon Oncle, Modern Times, Yoyo) and also specifically places Sunrise squarely in the zeitgeist of late 1920s comedy.

For example, consider what happens once George and Janet arrive in the city.  They proceed to stumble from one episodic set-piece to another. In one of these, they crash a wedding ceremony and are overwhelmed by the moment (wedding vows take on an eerie significance when juxtaposed with trying to kill your wife).  George breaks down, begs for forgiveness, and the two stagger into the street in a romantic haze.  In another transformation of setting not unlike the trollycar ride that brought them here in the first place, they lose track of where they are and see themselves in the fields of home—until car horns bring them back to reality.  And what ensues?  Slapstick havoc in the middle of traffic, that’s what—a punchline, just like you’d expect.  Traffic-based gags abound in comedies of this era.  The scene emphasizes the modern tribulation of city streets packed with noisy cars going every which way.

Observations on the comic aspects of traffic are fundamentally the stuff of movie comedy. Thanks to the coincidence of the age of movies and the age of cars, there wouldn’t have been much to say about traffic prior to the dawn of film.  It doesn’t really belong in any other medium.  Paintings can’t capture the movement well; theatrical performances can hardly stage this indoors; no one would write a book about traffic because it isn’t a literary subject--but 1920s comedians put such material into movies all the time. 

Pointedly, Sunrise does not view this transformation from rural life to modernity as a bad thing.  It seems to be tilting that way in its early scenes, the way the evil vamp is called “Woman of the City,” as if her corruption is connected to her sophistication. Once George and Janet arrive in that city, however, what they find is wonder, fun, and welcoming strangers. The city folk are sometimes a little perplexed by the two rubes, but never in a mean way—and no matter what George and Janet do or misunderstand or break, they are greeted by smiles and tolerance.

Sunrise shows how the new world, threatening as it is to the old, doesn’t have to lead exclusively to corruption—it is possible to navigate your way through this modern world and still come out morally whole.  As such, Sunrise is about hope in the face of wrenching change.

As it happens, 1920s screen comedy was itself undergoing a wrenching change, metamorphosing from silent physical slapstick to a new talkie genre of romantic comedy.  The solo comedians of slapstick’s Golden Age had to make way for a new breed of female stars, who took equal footing with their male costars.  The end product of that transformation would be the screwball comedy, whose genre conventions presuppose flirtation as a form of combat, or vice versa.  The stars of 1930s romantic comedies “meet cute” and engage in reel after reel of open combat, before discovering that hate is just a variation on love; you have to really care for somebody deeply to want to fight them that badly.  Fists give way to embraces and the former opponents end up in each other’s arms.

This is, you may note, the template of Sunrise—in which the couple starts off as opposed to one another as humanly possible, and end up as tightly allied as conceivable.

Sunrise is not just structured like a comedy, it is absolutely jam-packed with comedy actors.  Janet Gaynor, the female lead, was a fairly inexperienced young actress whose resume before showing up here largely consisted of comedy work—Laurel and Hardy’s 45 Minutes From Hollywood, Syd Chaplin’s Oh What a Nurse, Clara Bow’s The Plastic Age, Charley Chase’s All Wet, and various and sundry Hal Roach one-offs.

Once she and her hubby/attempted murderer George O’Brien make their way into the city, they spend the rest of the film encountering comic actors: Ralph Sipperly, the Barber, came from Fox’s own comedy shorts division.  Jane Winton, the Manicure Girl, came from such comedies as Footloose Widows, Why Girls Go Back Home, and Millionaires.  Then there are the Obtrusive Gentleman (Arthur Housman) and the Obliging Gentleman (Eddie Boland).  Both Housman and Boland were small-time comedy stars who were brand names in their own right, having top-lined their own respective series of comedy shorts.

On top of all the comic actors, there are actual jokes: the wedding reception mistaking the peasant couple for the bride and groom, the business at the photographer’s and the headless statue, the comic misunderstandings at the salon, and a drunken pig!

This is a “silent film” in that no dialogue is spoken, but it has a synchronized soundtrack that includes sound effects and music, and sure enough the various slapstick punchlines get their little “boing!” and “wah-wah” music cues just like you’d expect. 

Murnau’s allegiance with the world of comedy continued in the follow-up feature to Sunrise, City Girl (whose title, a riff on “Woman of the City,” signals from the outset its agenda vis a vis Sunrise).  City Girl opens with a scene in which a rube on a train unwisely reveals a fat bankroll and his own unwary attitude towards his money, rendering him an easy mark for the attention of a grafter.  And once again we find Murnau pulling plot points from the films of Harry Langdon—in this case, the short Lucky Stars.

Murnau stuffed the cast of City Girl with comedy veterans, too: Eddie Boland is back (briefly); Guinn “Big Boy” Williams was a regular supporting actor in silent and talkie comedies (including the brilliant Ladies Night in a Turkish Bath with Jimmy Finlayson); David Torrence earned his slapstick comedy credentials a few years after working with Murnau, in the Laurel and Hardy film Bonnie Scotland; and Richard Alexander was on the front end of what would prove to be a wildly varied career that included Harry Langdon’s See America Thirst, as well as Laurel and Hardy’s Them Thar Hills and Babes In Toyland.

Finding such comedy references in a Murnau film may be jarring to those who think of him only in terms of Nosferatu and other grim fables.  That may be a sizeable contingent, I realize.  It is generally the tendency of critics who write about Murnau’s films to identify the comic elements as something imposed on Murnau against his wishes by the studio in an effort to Americanize and popularize his films.

The primary English language text on Murnau is Lotte Eisner’s The Haunted Screen — the very title of which signals its preoccupations and prejudices when it comes to Murnau.  And so in her fealty to those prejudices, Eisner skips over, dismisses, or otherwise brushes under the rug any of Murnau’s works that don’t fit the bill.

Lotte Eisner suggests that all these tawdry jokes were inserted into Sunrise by Fox gag men and Murnau was obliged to go along with them.  Hey, but wait a minute–Sunrise was famously made without studio interference, and even after his falling out with Fox, Murnau never said that Sunrise was anything other than a work of total creative freedom.  You can’t have your cake and eat it too—you can’t say Murnau had total creative freedom but he also had to tolerate jokes inserted into the script against his will. If Sunrise was Murnau’s vision, his vision was prone to flirt with comedy.

Now might be the time to note, ahem, that The Last Laugh has its own comic elements, in which a bleak story comes to a tragic end, and then reboots itself as a comedy for its final reel—inspiring the English language title.

For that matter, Murnau made The Finances of the Grand Duke, a mild action-comedy about a master thief that in many ways anticipates similar lighthearted fare along the lines of Arsène Lupin or To Catch a Thief or a fair chunk of Steven Soderbergh’s back catalog.

The magic of Murnau is that his genius was not limited to vampires and demons—the man was also gifted with a deft comic touch.  Sunrise is Murnau’s comedy masterpiece.