#we talk about dot we talk about cv we talk about york

[akilliosacheron]

i have a complex about not disliking blaseball characters for any lore related reasons, if theyre lored to be 'unlikeable' or are gradually disliked by a team and i feel like its odd to be like that 🤔

like, you were given this guy and maybe they arent good at the game but someone decided that they were unredeemable (exaggeration) and then it became popular and its like... i dunno

i also have a complex about players who are bad at the game and get ignored and i accidentally went on a rant about it in the tags for yall eho know moist talkers players lol

[desertfangs]

Oooh! If you haven’t already done it: 9. For ‘The City Never Sleeps’ 🥹🖤🖤🖤

9. Share an off screen headcanon/scene for a fic of the asker's choosing Oh this is such a good fic for this question! I had a lot of stuff On the Daniel Molloy Tour of New York City (circa 1979) that did not make the cut to the final version. Not stuff I wrote out but stuff on a list that I was considering. Like the Art Gallery they used to go to all the time for big art parties on that got turned into a Starbucks. But I already had a drugstore that became a CVS and I was already sending them to Caffe Reggio (per a suggestion from @apoptoses when I was whining about needing places for them to go, and that location is amazing) so that felt too redundant.

But one stop on the tour I think they definitely went to but we did not see was another of Daniel and Armand's old apartments, one Daniel sort of hated. I think I mention it being near the bar they go to (I had planned for them to hit the apartment first, and then the bar). It was one of those glass-walled apartments that's sort of like a fishbowl, where your walls are all windows and unless you're really high up, it just feels like people are looking in and watching you all the time.

So I think he took Lestat there and they talked about the nature of being in the public eye. In particular, how Daniel's book sort of threw him and Louis into the public sphere in a way, even if as fictional characters, and then Lestat's rockstar career and autobiography, and what it feels like now to publish his adventures and how it feels to Daniel to know people he knew once upon a time might read those things and connect the dots.

I had bits and piece of dialogue scribbled in my notes and I think it would be an awesome conversation for them to have, so I will probably actually use it in a future fic with them, but I'm not sure when or where they'll end up having that conversation. (Maybe a fishbowl apartment is a little too on the nose! I am not subtle!)

Oh, and when they got back to TG, they totally tried to "watch a movie" and ended up making out instead because Lestat would not stop playing with Daniel's hair and touching him and being flirty and Daniel couldn't stop thinking about their make-out in the alley earlier, and how badly he wanted Lestat to toss him around a little and rip off his pants, so I'm pretty sure they were not watching the movie at all like... past the opening credits. (They may have carried it up to the bedroom. Shh. Don't tell Armand... he'll find out soon enough.)

[starkerforlife6969]

Pre-Starker. Peter is Nat’s little Brother

It’s nice, Tony thinks, all of them living in the tower together.

It curls warmly in his heart, the sight of Bucky glaring at the coffee maker, or Steve watching some documentary. He likes seeing Wanda and Vision baking cookies, or Clint out on the balcony shooting tracking arrows at pigeons for one of Bruce’s migration studies.

It feels a lot like…(family).

Not that’d he’d ever say it aloud.

He feels like he knows everyone better now. Thor’s not there all the time, but he drops down for a few weeks every couple of months, with some new drinking game and stories about huge battles he won that Tony knows he must exaggerate.

In fact, he thinks he knows everyone pretty well- everyone except-

Natasha.

Which is ironic, considering he’s known her the longest.

But she’s a mysterious person, that’s her shtick. He’s prodded and poked at the facade, but like him, she’s very tightly wound, and every inch she seems to give, is actually a metre she’s taken to ensure she’s still guarded. Still protected.

Even after combing unashamedly through SHIELD’s files, Tony’s still not sure about her past. A lot of spy work, but no family on record, no real name on record. Sure, Russian ancestry she says, and he’s certain he’s heard her speaking it on the phone from time to time, but he’s not really sure.

He doesn’t mind too much, because he’s the same. No matter how much he loves Bruce, Tony will never let slip the nights he’d go out to that road and sit there and think of his mom. No matter how much he loves Steve, he won’t ever say that sometimes the resentment he felt as a kid over his dad’s obsession eats him up inside. He won’t tell Vision that losing JARVIS was one of the hardest things he ever had go through, or tell Thor that every time he leaves it aches deep.

He won’t divulge his need to succeed, to prove himself, to anyone. Not even himself.

So, he understands Natasha. He thinks that because they’re so similar- she probably understands him too.

“Easy there, cowboy,” Tony chuckles, knocking Bucky out of the way to sort the coffee machine out for him as the early morning sun shines into the penthouse kitchen.

Bucky grumbles but moves easily. There’s a bowl of cornflakes in a bowl, half eaten, and Tony feels warm again at the domestic ease of it all. “Coffee’s supposed to be easy,” Bucky mutters, not for the first time, still bleary eyed, but he mutters a thanks when Tony hands him a fresh brew, and hunches over his bowl as he makes his way to the couch.

Tony rolls his eyes, and pours himself a cup. “Where’s Nat?” He asks, because she’s the one who normally makes Bucky his coffee. She wakes up first, always, then Bucky, then Tony, and then the rest whenever they feel like it.

“Someone buzzed for her at reception, I think,” Bucky says around a yawn, losing himself to the Saturday morning cartoons.

But Tony freezes. Someone called for Nat at reception? On a Saturday morning before 8am?

He’s grinning and heading for the elevator before it’s too late.

“Nat with anyone down at reception, Friday?” He asks eagerly, as the elevator takes him down.

“Yes.” Friday says mysteriously, and nothing more.

Tony laughs in surprise, gesturing expectantly. “Well…gonna ID them for me? Anything other than that?”

There’s silence for a moment, before Friday replies: “They don’t match anyone on my database, Sir. I’m running an extended scan but I’m unable to find a match.”

Of course. The plot thickens. Off-the-grid friends? Ex-spies? A Nick Fury who’s found a way to hide his face from diagnostics? Tony’s keen to find out.

When he gets to the ground floor, there are only a few people around. His receptionist, a few cleaners, a few scientists and interns dotted around here and there enjoying a coffee for an early start, or stumbling home after an all nighter, and there, sure enough, the shock of red hair gets his attention.

Natasha’s standing near the revolving doors, talking to a-

Tony frowns.

It’s a boy.

A young boy, a college student if his attire’s anything to go by- he’s got a backpack on, and tight jeans with oversized pink flannel. He’s bathed in the white light of morning, and he’s beautiful. Loose curls, hickory highlights and eyes of honey.

Tony can’t quite piece it all together. Does Natasha have a young lover?

He saunters over; straining his ears.

He hears Natasha say: “I know you do, solnyshko, but Mr Stark is really busy.”

Which is weird because Nat’s never called him Mr anything. Moron? Sure. Pain in her ass? Most definitely. Tony Stank on one awful occasion, but never Mr Stark.

So, he smiles, straightens his shirt, and clears his throat.

She whirls around so fast he’s surprised he doesn’t get a knife to the throat, but when she sees him- there’s something naked on her face. Something he’s never seen before- something she doesn’t quite school fast enough. The bare emotion of fear. It’s so painfully human that he suddenly regrets coming downstairs- regrets intruding on whatever this is-

“Oh my god! Oh my god! You’re Tony Stark!” Comes the ecstatic voice of the college student, and Tony doesn’t have time to say sorry, because the boy is stepping forward and gushing about how much he admires Tony, which is, you know, pretty great. The boy’s so pretty, with sharp cheekbones and long lashes-

“The very same,” Tony grins, holding out a hand. “And who might you be?”

Natasha cuts in smoothly, face back to fairly impassive. “Mr Stark, this is Peter, he’s a big fan of all your work- both scientific and Ironman-relevant.”

Peter and nothing more. How do they know each other? And she’s still calling him Mister Stark. Peter nods so forcefully it ruffles all the curls on his head. “I’ve ready everything you’ve written, Mr Stark! And Ironman- I have like- all the posters!”

Tony resists the urge to pull Peter closer where their hands are joined. He knows exactly what he’d do if he’d found this boy at a club, tug him closer and use that hero-worship to have quite the night but-

Natasha’s shifting. Almost imperceptibly. She’s uncomfortable. Her eyes are subtly raking over the lobby as if waiting for someone else to walk in-

Tony helps her out. “Well, Peter, any friend of Ms. Romanov’s is a friend of mine. Apply for an internship at SI and I’d be happy to look over your CV myself, I’m sure we have a position here for you in some department.”

He does mean to help, but the look he gets from Nat feels like he should be murdered on the spot for his generous offer. Well damn, he tried. He called her Ms Romanov.

“An internship?” Peter whispers, eyes-wide and jaw slack. “I will, Mr Stark! Thank you-“

“He’s very busy, Peter,” Nat reminds, voice gentle, and Peter nods, cut short from going onto another long ramble over how much he respects Tony. “You should go,” she urges softly, and Peter nods- but not before he tiptoes and throws his arms around her for a hug.

If Tony were drinking coffee, he’d spit it out.

Natasha ignores him, and wraps her arms around the boy, one hand cradling the back of his head, fingers buried in the curls, and Tony might be seeing things, but he’s sure she kisses his forehead and murmurs something like: “Be safe. I’ll call you later.”

“Love you too,” Peter beams, not at all covert, so whatever it is she’s hiding, Peter doesn’t know it’s a secret, that much is clear. Or he’s just very bad at keeping secrets which seems…unlikely for someone who apparently loves Natasha. And, if the soft voice and worried eyes are anything to go by, is loved in return. “It was an honour meeting you, Mr Stark Sir!” And then he’s out of the revolving doors and into the city’s bustling morning.

Neither of them speak for a moment, they just breathe: waiting.

Tony breaks the silence. “A friend of yours?” He asks breezily, and Natasha squares her shoulders and turns to look him right in the face.

She feels taller than him. She must be wearing heels. Or Tony’s thoroughly intimidated. “Tony,” she mutters, shaking her head, “we have an understanding, you and I, right? That sometimes you leave well enough alone. That you trust me when I tell you- you don’t need to know anymore.”

He nods slowly, wondering if he’s being manipulated. It’s hard to tell with Nat. It’s one of the reasons he likes her so much. She’s as good as deferring as he is. Good at distracting people with irrelevant things to squirrel away the crux of the matter. As it is, he’s content to let it lie. “Fine by me. Does anyone else know anything?”

He’ll be a little jealous if they do. She shakes her head, eyes hard. “It’ll stay that way.”

He crosses his heart, and thinks no more of it.

* Oh sure fine, he scans everywhere for a Peter at any of the nearby college’s but there are thousands and Friday can’t seem to match anyone to the boy in reception from earlier. It’s like his face is scrambled and Tony’s sure Natasha’s protecting him.

For what? The boy had seemed harmless enough. Unless he’s some sort of ex-Hydra mind controlled operative, which seems unlikely, there must be another reason.

Family, is Tony’s first thought. You do for family.

But he’s not sure Romanov is her real name and Peter Romanov or even Pietro brings nothing up. Blank. Suspiciously blank.

Tony sighs, and decides to actually let it lie.

*

But then it happens again, another accident.

His muscles ache and it’s nearly three am when he leaves the lab. Sleep has finally demanded his attention, and he’s headed to his bedroom when he feels a cool breeze ruffle the sweaty strands of hair pressed against his neck.

He frowns and heads to the balcony, but all the doors are sealed.

The wind blows again, so he follows it up the stairs towards the roof and sure enough, lit by the light of New York, is Peter.

He’s sitting on the ledge, a bowl of cereal in his palm, spoon in his other hand, gesturing wildly about something or other, so milk sloshes dangerously around each side.

Natasha comes into view too, she’s in her pyjamas unlike Peter who’s wrapped up warm in a coat, and she’s carrying a box of Lucky Charms. She laughs; face unguarded, relaxed in a way Tony’s never seen. He watches, hidden by the shadows, as she pours more cereal into Peter’s bowl until it’s teeming with sugary tokens.

Peter laughs, gesturing her away. “I’m not that hungry!”

“You’re too thin is what you are,” she teases lightly, sitting right beside him.

Tony sees it then, in that moment. The sharp cut of their jawlines, the delicate slender slope of their noses- siblings.

Natasha has a little brother. He feels winded.

“And you’re sure Mr Stark won’t mind us being up here?”

She rolls her eyes. “No one ever comes up here. Besides, it’s one of the perks in being his personal assistant.”

Peter shakes his head in awe. “That is so cool. You have the coolest job ever.”

It’s like a heavy punch to the gut. His personal assistant? Natasha has never been that- not even when she technically was, she wasn’t really. Not for years. She’s lying to her brother.

Tony can understand why, of course. To keep him safe. It also has the double benefit of making sure that even if Peter were captured, he wouldn’t be able to say anything.

Tony thinks it’s probably more so for the former reason.

He heads back down, shaking his head and trying to picture it. Natasha with a little brother. As a protective older sister. Making sure he does his homework, inside jokes, beating up bullies, making sure he eats, texting him. All normal things. He struggles to piece it into one person.

* Over scrambled eggs on brown toast, Tony brings it up.

“What’s your brother’s major?” He asks innocently.

Natasha takes a mean bite out of the corner of her toast, as if she wishes the bread were Tony’s jugular. She chews deliberately slowly, and then swallows. “Tony.” She says warningly, and he shrugs, lifting up his hands in innocence.

But he’s never known when to quit. “Science? Engineering? Give me a hint.” The kid had gushed over everything Tony had written, he must know at least a little bit of science. Plus, Nat’s always been scarily rational. “Math?”

She sets down her breakfast, and folds her hands under her chin. She doesn’t speak. She just stares.

He refuses to sweat under her glower. “You know you can trust me, right?” He says, more softly.

Her face softens at that, and she returns to her breakfast, looking at is as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “I know that, Tony. But this isn’t about me. It’s about Peter.”

“He thinks you’re my personal assistant.”

She doesn’t ask how he knows. Just takes it in stride, like she does with most things. “Yes.”

“You’re protecting him?”

Her eyes gleam. “Always.” She says fiercely, and Tony’s struck by the strength of it. He’s never had any siblings, any close friends like that. Someone to look out for him, always, something in his blood. He has Rhodey, but Rhodey’s never needed protecting. It’s different. He’s never known his whole life with someone loving him as ferociously as Natasha loves Peter.

“I could protect him too,” Tony offers, going for off-hand and light-hearted, even as her eyes, razor-sharp, dart to his face. He busies himself by sprinkling black pepper over his eggs. “You’ve done a pretty good job hiding him from the database, but I could add a whole other level of protection. Keep him off everything for good. No one could ever get their hands on him.”

She’s silent for a while. Pondering it. She’s not stupid enough to reject it outright through sheer stubbornness. “You would do that?” She asks tentatively, and Tony scoffs.

“Of course, I would. I’d do anything for you.”

The look she gives him makes him feel warm. Like maybe he’s her older brother.

“He would probably die for the chance to meet you,” she muses, before smiling in that way that says she’s given in. “If I introduced you, you could never tell anyone, Tony, I mean it. Not if we fight, not if you’re trying to get to me, I would destroy you.”

He thrums with excitement, even as his brain says: maybe this isn’t such a good idea.

* For obvious reasons, Nat doesn’t want to bring Peter to the penthouse.

Instead, she and Tony find themselves on the jet to MIT.

“MIT, really?” He scoffs at her, “my terf! And you didn’t even tell me!”

“Don’t pout.” She hums, looking out of the window. “He’s very smart. Smarter than you, for sure.”

Tony blinks affrontedly. Before he shrugs her off.“You would say that. You’re biased.”

“He’s majoring in Aeronautics and Mathematics, and he’s averaging an A in Jefferson’s class.”

“Bullshit,” Tony gapes, “no one gets an A in Jefferson’s class.” He knows the old bullfrog wouldn’t give a student an A if his life depended on it. It was something of a legend back in Tony’s day to try. He’s not surprised the man’s still there. Like a statue, probably embedded into the building’s heart.

She smiles smugly. “Peter does.”

“Peter does,” he mimics in a high-pitched voice. They enjoy silence for a moment, before he clears his throat to ruin it: “Your brother, he’s…eighteen?”

She arches an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“Right, right,” he nods, phew. “He’s very…pretty.”

“Tony.”

“Of course, I wasn’t gonna try anything-“

“Jesus,” she rolls her eyes, but her tone is firm. “Do you have to try and get in the pants of everything that moves?”

“Not everything. Just very pretty things. And I never said I was going to try, I was just making an observation. Anyone could see it. You’ve got some great family genes.”

“I didn’t think I’d need to say it, Tony, but touch my brother, and I will kill you.”

He slouches in his seat and sighs. Beautiful and smart and completely off limits. He’s sure he’ll have no problem adhering to that rule.

[thisislizheather]

April Activities 2021

The major news of the month? I can’t believe I get to be fully vaccinated. It’s hard to describe how incredible it feels but I’m so ready to really start this next phase and I can’t wait for everyone I love to feel this feeling soon. Here’s what went down last month.

Here are my favourite tweets from last month. Also, I’ve decided to compile the best tweets list every two weeks rather than only once a month mostly because I love re-reading them and want that sort of joy in my life twice a month, not just once.

I did Nathan’s podcast and we talked about Rogers, sex robots & god only knows what else.

Two new nail polishes that I bought and love: English Lavender by butter and Cold Brew Crew by essie. Beautiful colours.

I’ve made this lamb ragu from Alison Roman twice so far, it’s so luxurious but somehow easy to make. I’ve put it on tagliatelle as well as zucchini noodles and both have been wonderful. Small tip: it does get better after it sits in the fridge for a bit, for some reason. (Also, the recipe doesn’t call for it, but I added basil at the end. I tend to add basil anytime something calls for parsley because it’s just so much more flavourful and fun.)

Above Photo: Alison Roman’s lamb ragu

I want to buy new underwear and I’m looking for any suggestions that aren’t Victoria’s Secret, Aerie or The Gap. I might just bite the bullet and try the ones from Blush (love love love the models they use).

I tried the strawberry short cake soft serve from Milk Bar and it was heavenly. The soft serve is even better than the strawberry cake (although the cookie crumbles within the cake always make my knees weak). In fact, I’ve yet to try a Milk Bar soft serve that I didn’t love (their vegan apple pie soft serve was out of this world), should I have been buying their pints this whole time? Yes.

I gave a chance to Ouai’s Air Dry Foam and it didn’t impress me or anyone else for that matter, so I guess I’ll just stick with the Wave Spray instead.

The rain boots that I bought a few years ago from Winners have disintegrated and I’m in search of new ones, but please don’t recommend Hunter ones. I hate Hunter. Open to any other suggestions!

Influenced by a TikTok video, I bought Falscara and holy shit. I know I promise this a lot, but I’m going to do a video on it so you can see how good a product it is. So many videos are coming, I vow.

There milk chocolate coconut almonds from CVS are UNHOLY.

I tried a sample of Glamglow’s Glowstarter moisturizer and was pleasantly surprised at how it really does give you a pleasant glow. What’s that about.

It’s uncivil how expensive body suit/swimwear hangers are. Who is this benefiting? I just want to hang my delicate bodysuits and carry on with my day.

Trader Joe’s has started selling their own vodka and I’m hoping they’ll start to sell it in New York soon. Seems weird that they don’t already.

I tried a small sample of Charlotte Tilbury’s Magic Elixir and discovered that the true magic behind the elixir is how she got anyone to believe that it does anything at all. Makeup products truly enrage me at times.

Nathan and I went to a movie theatre and it was everything I wanted it to be and more. We saw Godzilla vs. Kong and I found myself beaming through every inane scene. Perfect movie to see after a year of no theatres. Would I ever watch it again? Good lord no.

I bought a lotion bar from Gift Box on Broadway in Astoria and I love it. I think I’d use it more if it were slightly smaller and more manageable, but I love it nonetheless.

I tried Rao’s spaghetti and it was incredible, so now I’m forced to seek out their other types of pasta. Such a quality pasta.

I ate at The Pineapple Club and the basil fried rice and frozen pina coladas were both outrageously good.

I bought this bag from Zara and I’m honestly nervous to even wear it out for some weird reason. Like, am I the person who would have a bag like this? Do I want to be that person? Am I feeling this way because of having nowhere to go for so long? Have I always been this fearful? Some of these questions I shouldn’t answer, I realize.

Just bought these shoes in tan and I think I have my life all figured out now. Now if I can just leave the house wearing said shoes and holding said bag.

Speaking of shoes, I truly can’t decide if I love or loathe these slippers.

Last shoe thing: head over HEELS (not sorry) in love with these feet hugging sandals. Should’ve bought four more pairs.

I made these chocolate banana muffins and they were great but the real standout is the recipe at the bottom for the salted honey butter. Christ, you should make that butter.

I perused Molly Baz’s new cookbook and it’s a big one. Some standout recipes: The Big Italian salad, a dilly horseradish cream sauce for shrimp, and of course her caesar salad recipe.

I never thought I’d be the type of person to buy fake plants, but this one is so lifelike and pretty that I had to get it. Plus it’s perfect for the top of a bookshelf.

Above Photo: Fake plant from Target

It’s ramp season and I couldn’t be happier about it, you’ll hear more about my ramp creations next month.

I watched This is a Robbery on Netflix and don’t waste your time. Yes, it’s an interesting story, but save yourself a few hours and go read this instead.

I’m watching The Nanny and loving it. I’ve only ever watched a few episodes growing up, and I thought I would hate it because of how much everyone makes fun of Fran’s voice but her voice is fine! It’s wild that anyone ever said it was annoying. Also, the theme song is catchy as hell.

I rewatched Speed and it’s, of course, still great. What can’t Keanu do.

I watched the 90s movie The Crush and it’s really weird that movies like that would never have a chance being made today.

I’m all caught up on Riverdale now and… it’s hard to remember when it was really good. Maybe it was all Skeet Ulrich? Was that the main draw in my mind? I can see that making sense. In any case, it’s taken a turn.

There’s something so inviting about having good washroom rugs, I just got these soft-as-hell Threshold ones and I’ll never buy another brand again.

I visited the midtown Ideal Cheese Shop (been meaning to forever) and it’s such a great spot for NYC delicacies as well as, obviously, cheese. They had pre-packed bacon from Peter Luger and salmon from Daniel Boulud.

Things are already changing fast with new restrictions loosing in NYC, but did you know you can rent out a bar for an hour?

I tried the breakfast Beyond Meat sausage patties and surprise, surprise, they’re great. There’s nothing this company can do wrong. I’m becoming suspicious.

I got drinks and some small bites at Bar Dalia in Astoria and what a sweet little place! Would go again.

I finally got my hands on the kitchen-scented mini candles from Trader Joe’s (the scents are lemongrass, tomato leaf, fresh mint). They fill me with joy, unfortunately. I also got their grapefruit scented body butter, which goes on very smoothly but I’ve noticed it has a scent that’s slightly off-putting over time. I will not dwell on that fact further.

Had no idea that Banza made a pizza crust but I tried it and it’s wonderful.

I love seeing what promotional giveaways are planned for the upcoming baseball season but since we’re technically still in a pandemic, the Mets are only releasing what the promotions are each month (makes sense). So I’ve bookmarked the page to go look at on the first of each month.

I don’t eat a ton of fast food, but I’m sorry, some of these are genius ideas.

I’ll regret it if I don’t buy a box of these, right?

I know that it’s common to read an article about something and feel “that’s me!” but this one really resonates with me: “There’s a Name for the Blah You’re Feeling: It’s Called Languishing.”

The best brand at Target: A New Day.

Love and fully agree with all of this woman’s questions about things that don’t make sense.

I was walking past a Home Depot in Queens and the smell of the sandwiches at Rocco’s was heavenly. I had just eaten, otherwise I would have leaped into line. Must remember to get a Philly cheese steak here next time. The Yelp reviews are calling me.

I bought this earring organizer from The Container Store and it’s perfect. Fully recommend. I also finally got a purse organizer and some shoe boxes that make me feel like I might be a successful woman in her prime.

Above Photo: Earring Stand from The Container Store

Above Photo: Left: purse storage holder, Right: shoe storage boxes, Not Shown: me, opening & closing my closet door ten times to bask in my new found organizational skills

I had no idea Zara had a home section. I wish I didn’t have this knowledge, but now that I do, you must too. Literally ALL of these glasses are gorgeous. Tempted to go smash each glass in my kitchen cupboard right this instant.

This Artist Faked Being a Billionaire to Photograph New York City's Best Views - such a great idea, such great photos. How was it not me who came up with this?

Some more spring recipes I’m dying to make:

Ramp & Ricotta Tart

Grilled Asparagus Caesar Salad

Lemon Poppy Seed Cake

Scallop Risotto with Lemon & Sweet Peas

Grilled Caprese Skewers with Halloumi and Sourdough

Some things that I’m looking forward to this month: the new/final season of Shrill comes out this week (!), I might be going to a Mets game (!!), dying to eat at Under The Volcano, really want to visit the new Dippin' Dots store, I’ve been craving a good club sandwich for months so I might try to get brunch at Mark’s Off Madison, I know it might be early but I can’t wait to go tan on Governors Island soon, and at some point I’d really love to take one of these pasta cooking classes.

Above Photo: The club sandwich at Mark’s Off Madison, photo courtesy of Front of House

If you’ve got any interest in reading last month’s roundup, you can see what went down in March over here.

[drvinyl]

Interview: D E L A N I L A

Words by Charlotte Christie 

Back when lockdown was a mere twinkle in BoJo’s eye, I was experiencing a mild existential crisis. I look back and can’t help but wonder: if someone had linked me to Delanila’s CV, would it have tipped me over the edge? Trust me, it’s that impressive. 

 As an established classical composer, Danielle Eva Schwob, has worked on projects ranging from Darren Aronofsky’s Mother! to David Attenborough documentaries. As Delanila, The New Yorker has  heralded her as a “notable cross-genre composer” and she even locked-down before ‘lockdown’ was a thing! Last week, we talked a bit more about her musical evolution and the making of her new record, Overloaded. 

Before we start, I just want to say that I really loved your album. I thought it was so unique. The Philosopher is my favourite.

 That’s such a lovely compliment. Thank you!

You’ve done some really interesting projects but Overloaded is a step in another direction. What inspired the transition from classical composer to alternative pop-punk? 

Again, thank you. Honestly it wasn’t really a transition since I’ve been writing songs and playing in bands since I was a teenager.  For whatever reason my composing work started moving along publicly first so I’ve been following that train, but really I’ve always done both.  I think what might appear outwardly to be a departure is actually more of a moment of coming full circle and finally connecting all the dots.

What is the biggest challenge you have faced as a musician moving between genres? (If at all.)

That’s a great question. And there are lots. I think it’s mostly just a challenge to feel as though I’m constantly growing on all creative fronts, as you can only focus on so many projects at one time.  I think they do all feed in to and inform one another, especially as I get deeper and deeper with each one, but at the end of the day different genres are different art forms. It’s like keeping up with multiple foreign languages. The more you know, the easier they get to learn, but you still have to keep them active to hold on to them.

Beyond that, marketing in the alternative world drives me mad. It’s so image and social media driven. I hate taking pictures of myself all the time and the way that the ‘algorithm’ basically forces women to objectify themselves.  I find it challenging to navigate in a way that doesn’t turn my stomach.

Overloaded’s second single is “It’s Been a While Since I Went Outside”. I’m interested that you made this album during a period of voluntary isolation (before we knew COVID-19 existed). Could you tell me a bit more about the album’s creation? 

Sure. I am a workaholic, and being a workaholic as a composer and independent musician means spending a lot of time writing alone in your studio.  On top of that,  at one point I also had mono for six months and was so fatigued that I could barely stand up.  All I could do was watch TV, and so I think the song naturally grew from the isolation of both of those circumstances. Especially the line “I’m never alone, I’ve got friends in the shows, and they’re not going anywhere.”

Do you feel that it prepared you for the current situation?

I do actually feel it prepared me quite well for lockdown, as much as anything could ever really prepare any of us to be isolated for this long.  My ‘work from home’ lifestyle hasn’t changed so that’s been easy, but the things I do to offset that isolation - seeing friends, going to restaurants, browsing a bookstore etc. - I’ve been missing a lot. Especially as I live alone so it’s hard to break the mood.

Was there a non-music related activity that got you through self-isolation? If so, what was it?

Yes. Cycling. Along with many in NYC, I’ve been taking to the bike lanes! Hopefully not to the danger of other cyclists! After sitting still and being cooped up for so long, it’s great to feel the air moving and cover some distance.

I read that you have bases in LA, NYC and London. How does where you are influence the art you make? 

Well, sort of. I’ve lived and worked in all those cities, bounce around and have friends and family all over, but it’s not like I have three apartments.  As far as their influence, I think the place you live informs so much of who you are that it comes out in your music whether you want it to or not. For me, NYC in particular I think has been very formative. The album is called Overloaded, and in many ways I can’t think of a better way to describe New York.  It’s dense, intense, overstimulated, at times fun and others lonely. Plus there’s always this feeling of being amidst people yet detached from them. Even just the look of the skyscrapers, with people stacked on top of one another and so frequently depicted in film, I think has been impactful. While working on the record I actually often played the tracks back against movie trailers with dramatic city scapes to see how they held up.  The record basically is life in NYC, to me at least.

Who or what inspires you the most?

Probably visual art and film.  Whenever I’m stuck on something I’m writing, I go to an art museum. Cildo Meireles, Hito Steyerl and Louise Bourgeois are some that have floored me over the years. I like immersive pieces and installations. I think because they often feel like film sets.

Beyond that, just the other creative people I know. It’s an amazing thing to be part of a community where you’re all building careers at the same time, watching each other’s voices expand.  More specifically, the other composers I went through the Sundance Labs with, every single one of whom I think is great, and also my brother, who is an experimental glassblower.

As an artist: do you think it is more important to be true to yourself or to be liked by the masses and why? 

Well, I write classical music, which is hardly cracking the top 40, so as a surprise to absolutely no one, I’m going to say…to be true to yourself.  Because authenticity speaks to people and I think if you do that you can also be liked, or at least understood by most.  While if you shoot to be liked by ‘the masses,’ it’s hard to be true to yourself, and you may not be liked by anyone. I think there’s the potential to do both one way, but not the other.  To me the best artists check both boxes, and I think the only way to get there is by creating something unique, that comes from a truthful place and expresses a singular perspective. There can be universality in that specificity.

Complete this sentence: If I could change one thing about technology it would be… It would never crash.

Where do you hope music takes you in the future?  I would like to work with more filmmakers and score a deep, dark drama of some kind.

Your lyrics are very poetic. Would you be up for trying something other than music? I mean, like...now! Could you describe D E L A N I L A in a Haiku?  I’m stumped by that right now but I’m hungry, so here’s one about that:

Lockdown in mid-June

Hunger grows yet fridge is bare

Wherefore art my lunch?

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