Things I enjoyed in the month of January:
Watching movies whilst being slowly zombified by the Norovirus:
When We First Met
Another one watched with the sister while I lolled pathetically on my bed and helped her figure out days six and seven of her yearly 12 Days of Christmas post.
(She basically ignored my every suggestion but who the hell knows what I was suggesting in my post-barf delirium.)
When We First Met is really predictable.
But in this sort of soft comforting way that Romcoms sometimes are.
You know how it'll end.
You know the farce the two main characters will go through before they end up together.
You know it won't take a lot brain power to enjoy the story.
And enjoy it, you will.
And enjoy it, I did.
Will I watch it again?
Would I have watched this if I didn't have such a soft spot for Robbie Amell, Adam Devine and Shelley Hennig?
Nope.
Probably not.
But a soft spot I have.
And a sister who'd already watched it and insisted I'd like it.
What's a sick girl to do?
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I've been meaning to post something by NOMA for ages:
Because look at it.
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Discovering Chris Evans is my luddite soulmate:
I watched this with my mum and sister after the first 24 hours of the hell plague were over and I knew what a tv was again.
It's one of the few Studio Ghibli movies I haven't seen and I won't call it an absolute favourite but it was incredibly lovely in only the way Ghibli can be.
A special note of thanks to my mum who kindly looked up the twist for me because my brain was still the consistency of Angel Delight (pudding to the non-Brits in the audience) at that point and I couldn't tell what the fuck was going on!
If you've been here a while then you know I'm rather damn fussy about book adaptations and can get... vocal about it.
But not this one.
This one I like.
(Even with the dubious physical casting of Fassbender as Rochester.)
It was lucky I already knew that because I spent most of it slipping in and out of consciousness.
24 hours of... "liquidating your assets" will do that to you.
One of my forever favourites.
Possibly the most beautiful movie I've ever seen.
And it always makes me cry.
I blame these two entirely:
You must watch it.
You must, you must, you must.
If only for this wondrous little monster:
I imagine there will be many a cry of "What the fuck?" because the Bridget Jones movies are universally acknowledged as being pretty terrible but... fuck it, I don't really care?
I know it's bad.
But I still love Bridget in all her barbarity.
And I've been plugging for this ship to sail since forever.
So fuck the haters.
I enjoyed the crap out this and I got to watch it with my sister while she intermittently brought me tea and toast.
...
* I refuse to put its official title because it's grammatically. Fucking. Redundant.
Another one watched with the sister while I lolled pathetically on my bed and helped her figure out days six and seven of her yearly 12 Days of Christmas post.
(She basically ignored my every suggestion but who the hell knows what I was suggesting in my post-barf delirium.)
When We First Met is really predictable.
But in this sort of soft comforting way that Romcoms sometimes are.
You know how it'll end.
You know the farce the two main characters will go through before they end up together.
You know it won't take a lot brain power to enjoy the story.
And enjoy it, you will.
And enjoy it, I did.
Will I watch it again?
Nope.
Probably not.
But a soft spot I have.
And a sister who'd already watched it and insisted I'd like it.
What's a sick girl to do?
The Sense8 finale
(movie length so it totally counts)
It's taken me months to watch this.
Entirely because I knew I wanted to see it when I could fully focus on it.
Because I love my cluster.
And it broke my heart when the show was cancelled.
So, even though this final episode isn't perfect, to me, it's perfectly imperfect.
I was given everything I wanted.
And a few things I didn't know I needed.
And my sensates are whole and happy.
What more could I have asked for?
This episode is a gift.
I've been meaning to post something by NOMA for ages:
Because look at it.
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Discovering Chris Evans is my luddite soulmate:
It's like he's inside my head...Dear All Technology,— Chris Evans (@ChrisEvans) January 7, 2019
Remember the 90’s when you just WORKED??? I don’t need a ‘smart’ feature on my TV, thermostat, lights, music, refrigerator, security cameras, and f-ing car. You’re a major pain in all of our asses. You’re not worth it.
Signed,
Everyone
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Travis Louie's dapper bunny, Old Duster:
He's so fuzzled.
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Lion:
I actually can't write anything about this because if I do then I'll start sobbing like an idiot again.
I can feel it already.
Just watch this beautiful, brilliant, soul-bloody-enriching movie.
(sidenote: if you're about to give me shit for watching a movie made by Weinstein's production company, then... fair enough. I'm giving myself shit right now. But take a minute to think about all the work that went into making this. All the people who poured their time and talent into it. Remember that this is based on a true story and it's a powerful story that deserved to be told. These things matter. And it's why I watched it in spite of the execrable lowlife who funded it. Why should good people be deprived of the credit they deserve because of someone else's actions? If I'm wrong about this, tell me and I'll revaluate. I promise.)
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Čupová Suwi Zuzana finally did some Over the Garden Wall fan art and I'm screaming:
Look at my boys.
Loooook at them.
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Prince's Gambit:
"Stay with me until this thing is done, and I will take off the cuffs and the collar. I will release you willingly. We can face each other as free men. Whatever is to fall out between us can do so then."
I wasn't completely sold on the first in the trilogy, Captive Prince but this?
This is why I subscribe to the school of "Don't give up on a series after the first book because it might just evolve into something so magnificent you wish you could encase your heart in graphene* because it hurts, oh god, it hurts!"
It's a very singular school and to become a member you must err on the side of literary masochism.
You have been forewarned.
And this is why I spent 99.99999% of Prince's Gambit screaming internally (and maybe a few times externally):
"My boys!
My beautiful boyyyyyysssss!"
Pacat, you beautiful bastard, my heart is not okay.
How could you?
Kings Rising's going to murder me isn't it?
Oh god.
Send help?
For the love of god, send some fucking help!
Prince's Gambit:
"Stay with me until this thing is done, and I will take off the cuffs and the collar. I will release you willingly. We can face each other as free men. Whatever is to fall out between us can do so then."
I wasn't completely sold on the first in the trilogy, Captive Prince but this?
This is why I subscribe to the school of "Don't give up on a series after the first book because it might just evolve into something so magnificent you wish you could encase your heart in graphene* because it hurts, oh god, it hurts!"
It's a very singular school and to become a member you must err on the side of literary masochism.
You have been forewarned.
And this is why I spent 99.99999% of Prince's Gambit screaming internally (and maybe a few times externally):
"My boys!
My beautiful boyyyyyysssss!"
Pacat, you beautiful bastard, my heart is not okay.
How could you?
Kings Rising's going to murder me isn't it?
Oh god.
Send help?
For the love of god, send some fucking help!
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How are you doing this, woman?
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This:
"Snowflake is a word used by sociopaths in an attempt to discredit the notion of empathy." - John Cleese pic.twitter.com/5VXn0MtzOh— Steve Hoffman (@SteveHoffmanTV) December 27, 2018
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This insanely gorgeous piece of fan art for Gris by Adrián Miguel:
GRIS comes out tomorrow!!!— Adrián Miguel (@TheArtofAdrian) December 12, 2018
And I wanted to get into the fanart train, so here you go!#GRISgame #GRIS pic.twitter.com/trmPdnFAw2
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Netflix has its greedy paws on Leigh Bardugo's supernatural babies and I'm... well, I'm not sure if I'm okay:
This is real. Shadow & Bone AND Six of Crows are coming to @netflix. The #grishaverse is about to come to life. https://t.co/FPD2VbYf2F— Leigh Bardugo (@LBardugo) January 10, 2019
Especially when the stories mean the FUCKING WORLD to my fantasy-worshipping heart.
So... I'm a little tense.
And Bardugo's happy, so it could be alright?
Right?
...
Someone tell me everything's going to be okay?
Please?
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WADA! Fucking stop it:
Please don't stop it.
Please don't stop it.
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Kate:
Kate:
Four months.
That's how long my restraint lasted between books.
...
Gotta say, I'm pretty fucking impressed with myself.
Sure, there was a short story thrown in there a month later but still, with my eternal love for every. damn. thing. about this series, I'd say that shows some serious supernatural willpower.
Especially when my ship sailed in the previous book and I didn't immediately gorge myself on the rest of the series.
...
I reiterate, super-fucking-natural.
Which is good.
Fantastic, in fact.
Because when I finish all the books (ten in total, excluding shorts), I'm going to cry.
I'm going to cry eternally.
Thus the problem with being a total sociopath and having way more feelings for fictional characters than real life, in the flesh human beings.
(sorry, not sorry?)
And even though Magic Slays is not my favourite book so far (the percentage of difference, however, is tiny, minuscule, infinitesimal) it still sucker-punched me right in the feels.
Bloody hell, Team Andrews, why are you trying to murder my heart?
I mean, you've been doing it since book one, so I don't know why I'm surprised but damn, that was stressful!
You really threw the works at me this time around, didn't you...
Relationship anxiety between my OTP:
"What did Curran have to lose by mating with me?
I wanted him so much that I'd never considered he might want to use me. All this time I'd been focused on worrying that my ancestry would keep him from being with me. It'd never crossed my mind that he could view it as an asset."
"I didn't want it to turn out to be one big lie."
"Ultimately, I didn't have to figure out whether Curran truly loved me. All I had to know was whether I loved him enough not to care why he was with me. I knew the answer. I just didn't want to admit it. If he called right now, hurt, I would find him and save him, even if it cost me my life, whether he loved me or not. This was all sorts of screwed up.
No, I was wrong. If he was with me because he needed me to fight Roland, I had to leave. I couldn't stay here, sleep next to him in this bed, touch him, kiss him, knowing that he didn't truly love me but was bound by the need for survival. I would still love him, but I couldn't stay. [...] It was too late now. I wanted love or nothing."
A big bad that could have been the unquestionable end of my beloved, magical Atlantan super-babies:
"Bodies lay in the streets. Laborers. Mothers with their children. A group of men armed with crossbows, probably just passing through. A cop, a short blond woman, her uniform pristine, lying face down on the pavement two steps away from her police horse.
Oh my God . . . We drove through it all, surrounded by death on both sides, as if gliding through Armageddon.
On the far right, a man stumbled, walking through the street, with a lost look on his face, trying to come to terms with his world ending. A child cried in the distance, a thin uncertain sound.
This wasn't just bad. It wasn't just criminal, or cruel; it was so deeply inhuman, my mind had trouble comprehending it. I've seen death and mass murder, I've seen people slaughtered out of bloodlust, but this had no emotion behind it. Just a cold clinical calculation."
An abundance of squishy proclamations of love that stupefied my brain and left me with a permanent doofy smile on my face :
(To be fair, this always happens when Kate and Curran are involved.)
"I'd missed him so much, it almost hurt. It started the moment I left the Keep and nagged at me all day. Every day I had to fight with myself to keep from making up bullshit reasons to call the Keep so I could hear his voice. My only saving grace was that Curran wasn't handling this whole mating thing any better. Yesterday he called me at the office claiming that he couldn't find his socks. We talked for two hours."
" 'I have a string of safe houses set up all across the country," he said.
I must've misheard, 'What?'
'I have safe houses in almost every state. I have more than enough money to keep us comfortable for the rest of our lives, if it comes to it. I've moved most of my funds to places outside the Pack.'
'What are you talking about?'
'I know he is coming and you are afraid. If you don't want to fight him, you and I can disappear.'
I stared at him.
'The mass transit is gone. No planes, no reliable roads. The world is big again, Kate. He will never find us.'
'What about the Pack?'
His upper lip trembled, betraying the edge of his teeth.
'Fuck the Pack. I gave them fifteen years of my life. I fought for them, bled for them, and the moment my back was turned, they attacked my wife. I owe them nothing.'
Curran reached over and covered my fingers with his hand.
'I'm serious. Say the word right now and were gone. We can take Julie with us, if you want.'
'Jim would find us.'
'No. I covered my tracks. If Jim does find us, he'll wish he hadn't. Besides, Jim is a friend. He would understand and he wouldn't look for us very hard.'
It wasn't a bluff; I heard it in his voice. He would do it. He would walk away. 'You would leave all these people, all the bowing, and the . . .'
His gray eyes looked into mine. 'If I fought for them and was crippled, they would all say nice things, and then they would replace me and forget I was ever there. You would stay with me. You would take care of me, because you love me. I love you too, Kate. If you ever became hurt, I would not leave you. I'll be there. Wherever you want "there" to be.'
"No matter where I was or how much trouble I was in, he would come to get me. He would demolish the city to find me. I didn't have to go it alone."
Parental drama:
" 'Good morning, Ms. Daniels. I'm calling to inform you that Julie has left our premises.'
Not again.
Curran's arms closed around me and he hugged me to him. I leaned back against him. 'How?'
'She mailed herself.'
'I'm sorry?'
Parker cleared his throat. 'As you know, all of our students are required to perform two hours of school service a day. Julie worked in the mail room. We viewed it as the best location, because she was under near-constant supervision and had no opportunities to leave the building. Apparently she obtained a large crate, falsified a shipping label, and mailed herself inside it.'
Curran chuckled into my ear.
I turned and bumped my head against his chest a few times. It was the nearest hard surface."
"I sat in the gloom of the hospital room. Julie lay unmoving on the white sheets, her exposed semihuman arm caught in the web of tubes of the IV drip feeding sedative into her body. Her face was twisted, her jaws too large and distorted, with fangs cutting through her lips. Her eyes were closed. A shock of pale blond hair was the only thing that remained of my kid.
It felt unreal."
Familial drama:
"I was the biological by-product of a megalomaniac and a woman who magically brainwashed others into doing her will, and I was raised by a man who reveled in the knowledge that my biological father would one day kill me. All those years, my life, my accomplishments, any feelings I had for him, everything I was, Voron would've traded all of it for a chance to see the look on Roland's face when he slit my throat. And my mother made him that way."
And just to round it off nicely, a cliffhanger to make me scream:
"Congratulations on your victory, your highness.
Looking forward to our next meeting.
Hugh"
Uhhhhh, I'm thinking that four month break was a fluke.
Scratch that, it was most definitely a fluke.
Hello, Gunmetal Magic, let's get acquainted:
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Ksenia Svincova aka. Iren Horrors showing the eternal Goblin King some love on his birthday:
Fuck, I love fans who can art.
My eyeballs would be so sad without them.
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Encountering expected sexism on Goodreads' Best Young Adult Books of February:
And the joy of women speaking up against it:
Encountering expected sexism on Goodreads' Best Young Adult Books of February:
And the joy of women speaking up against it:
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Diana Novich aka. holepsi's The End of the F***ing World fan art:
Physically itching for this to appear in her Redbubble store.
Physically itching for this to appear in her Redbubble store.
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Newly discovered, never before published Sylvia Plath:
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Newly discovered, never before published Sylvia Plath:
...
Released as part of the 19 short stories celebrating Faber's 90th anniversary.
The series includes literary giants such as:
I think I can probably crawl my way out of the Fantasy chasm I've fallen into to read at least half of these.
...
At least.
Oh boy, would you look at this beauty by Laurie Conley:
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Electric Literature's Auto-Publicist:
Nobody likes these, because it’s hard to do them, but Electric Lit offers you a chance to make your own elevator pitch, tongue firmly in cheek.'
There was no way I wasn't doing this but mine kind of... sucked?:
A courageous autobiographical novel about a lovesick woman's wish to explore her writer's block.
See.
Boring.
So I used my family nickname instead(which is basically my name now; I'm usually only "Louise'd" when I'm in serious fucking trouble):
A richly drawn war epic about a depressed starship captain's promise to avoid their sexless marriage.
Who else is picturing Captain Tight Pants sprinting away from Inara, screaming "Feelings?I don't do feelings!" or more likely (in my head at least), "I'm sorry! It's not you! I can't help that I love him! It's that damned orange hat!" at the top of his lungs?
To quote Ilona Andrews (yes, I love her, shut up) who I found this silly wonderful thing through...
'In publishing there is such a thing as an elevator pitch, a one or two sentence description of the story that’s meant to be catchy. For example for KD it would be “In a post-apocalyptic world where magic returns in unpredictable waves, a mercenary with a magic sword who hid in plain sight for years must risk everything to solve the murder of her guardian.”
Nobody likes these, because it’s hard to do them, but Electric Lit offers you a chance to make your own elevator pitch, tongue firmly in cheek.'
There was no way I wasn't doing this but mine kind of... sucked?:
A courageous autobiographical novel about a lovesick woman's wish to explore her writer's block.
See.
Boring.
So I used my family nickname instead(which is basically my name now; I'm usually only "Louise'd" when I'm in serious fucking trouble):
A richly drawn war epic about a depressed starship captain's promise to avoid their sexless marriage.
Who else is picturing Captain Tight Pants sprinting away from Inara, screaming "Feelings?I don't do feelings!" or more likely (in my head at least), "I'm sorry! It's not you! I can't help that I love him! It's that damned orange hat!" at the top of his lungs?
I would totally read that book.
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Dude, you ship MAL/JAYNE?! 😮😮😮😮😮😮😮😮😮😮😏
I lowkey ship Mal/Jayne.
But more importantly, how the fuck did you add emojis? WITCH!
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