#janie crawford

[cyeayt]

in my coffee-batter era, seriously rip to teacake but I'm different (live in a time and place with access to rabies treatments / am not doomed by the narrative)

#no i have not been exposed to rabies #but theres a situation #that ive been freaking out about #but its gonna be fine #i wake up and i say to myself in the mirror that im not gonna get rabies #daily affirmations #joke stolen from my friends #rabies #bats #teacake #I LOOKED IT UP AND HIS NAME IS #VERGIBLE WOODS??? #WAS THIS IN THE BOOK HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS #literature #their eyes were watching god #i just got assigned literally 9 more books to read for my lit class so im gonna be on my literature bs a lot #janie crawford

[haveyoureadthispoll]

Fair and long-legged, independent and articulate, Janie Crawford sets out to be her own person—no mean feat for a black woman in the '30s. Janie's quest for identity takes her through three marriages and into a journey back to her roots.

#book: their eyes were watching god #author: zora neale hurston #genre: classics #genre: historical fiction #year: 1930s

[dwreader]

one of the few good faith questions about s1 gender roles is why louis is only paralleled with white women. why does the show make him iolanta, melisande, nora helmer, etc and not claire kendry or janie crawford, characters who also appear in literature from the show's time period. why is he reading flaubert, colette, edward carpenter and not claude mckay or nella larsen who actually writes a lot about interractial relationships. on one hand the showrunner is white and maybe those are the texts he feels most comfortable with, but there are more than a few black creatives working on the show who are contributing in significant ways.

first of all, characters like iolanta, stella kowalski and nora helmer do not need to be white. they are white in their original forms because the writers were white and sometimes based them on real people. tenessee williams always wanted to have streetcar performed by diverse casts even though he based the characters partly on people in his own family. many productions now have non-white actresses in these roles (assad zaman was in one of these productions of a doll's house). also we can safely say lestat assigns melisande to louis because that's the kind of shit he's into (french opera based on a belgian story) and he's not really well read.

beyond that though, to me the reason louis is paralleled with white women is because he's married to a white man in 1910 louisiana where not only was interracial marriage illegal but homosexual relations and even interractial cohabitation were banned. but because of lestat's power, money and their vampire powers, these roles don't really apply to them. people who were in interracial or homosexual relationships in the 1910s had very different struggles and conflicts from loustat, like most of them could barely step outside without worrying about their safety. they certainly wouldn't be parading around society together all the time while even the politicians and authorities know about their relationship. so how do you make sense of your marriage if its very existence is anachronistic?? who's writing about your experiences if your experience is such an outlier in your society literally due to supernatural forces? there's no shortage of black literature in this time period (which overlaps with the harlem renaissance!) but being married to a white man is quite fundamentally different to being married to a non-white man especially in early 20th century. a white man has complete control over his dominion which includes the home and the outside world. a non-white man may have control over his home but the minute he steps out the door he's at the mercy of white men, he could be killed for simply looking at someone the wrong way, which makes non-white men impossible to relate to lestat. and who was allowed to be married to white men in those days? white women.

and ultimately louis is nora because the conflict of needing to escape an overbearing husband was something allowed only to white women in literature/theater. the reason we find so many parallels between louis and white female characters like belle even now is because his role in this story is largely reserved for white women and this has clearly ruffled a lot of feathers because its unfamiliar. i'll be curious to see what the show does as time moves forward but for season 1 it's very clear to me why the show chose these specific intertextual references.

#the loumand dynamic in s2 intrigues so much for this reason #cause we are moving into a lot more liberated territory #for louis who is so well read especially how does he relate his story to the stories he's read #iwtv

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Five Times John Wanted to See a Movie, and One Time Kayne Made it Suck - a Malevolent Podcast Oneshot

In which Arthur struggles with right and wrong, bemoans the Hays Code, tries (and fails) to define love, and gets a second chance.

Spoilers up to Malevolent ep. 31.

AO3

----------

In January, John says, Arthur, I want to see a movie.

“Damn it, John… fine. You know what? Fine! We’ll go sit in the dark and be perfect targets for someone! Is that what you want?”

He gives in, though.

Arthur can be stubborn. He can be foolish in refusal, often saying no just to say it. 

But to this?

To an innocent request, almost childlike in its intensity, and in its expectation of reply?

Arthur can’t hold out for that long.

Not when it seems to bring John such uncomplicated joy.

#

The movie is called Dancing Lady, and Arthur already knows nothing will ever be made like it again once the Hays Code has its way.

It’s a ridiculous love triangle, a “tarnished” woman (a concept Arthur finds absurd) torn between a rich sponsor and a poor lover, both of whom, at least, see her talent for what it is.

There are some scenes in this one. At one point, Clark Gable massages Joan Crawford’s leg, raising it above his shoulder, only hinting at the things that must surely be on display from Gable’s point of view.

Yowza.

It’s hard not to imagine Joan Crawford making the kinds of faces John describes, and Arthur can’t help a little bit of distracting response.

He focuses on his popcorn instead of anything else prone to explode.

“Those guys are a lot of silk hats and silk socks with nothing between,” says Clark Gable on screen, and Arthur laughs.

John huffs. Why are they being so particular about this?

“Particular about what?” says Arthur.

Tod, Patch, Janie. Why the fuck doesn’t she just lie with both of them? Why do they give a fuck?

Arthur is completely taken aback. “Well, it… I mean… she can’t do that.”

Why not?

Arthur has never in his life considered this question.

It’s about offspring, John decides.

“Ah… no, it’s not really—”

They demand monogamy so there can be no question of inheritance.

“She’s a dancing girl. She has nothing to inherit.”

Sure, but Tod does.

“Yes, but… that isn’t it, John.”

Then what is?

Arthur’s really not sure how to answer. What’s he going to say? That it isn’t the Christian thing to do? “I… it just isn’t done that way. Generally.”

Though in his musician days, he witnessed some truly unique romantic configurations.

It’s a lot to think about.

Stupid, pronounces John with fiendish delight, and continues to tell Arthur everything that’s happening on screen even though Arthur does not reply.

#

In February, John says, Arthur, I want to see a movie.

Arthur sighs. “John. I’ve been fucking stabbed.”

Only a little, says John. The three stitches are fine. You’re fine.

He is fine, honestly. It wasn’t that bad, and in the end, they took out the giant bug-thing that poked him.

He’s pretty sure he isn’t poisoned. Maybe that alone deserves celebration.

Arthur sighs. “Well. I suppose an evening of distraction isn’t such a terrible idea.”

Of course it’s not a terrible idea. It’s mine.

Arthur rolls his useless eyes, but can’t help a little smile. 

#

This movie, though. This movie hits different.

Death Takes a Holiday is about Death himself, who is tired of being misunderstood, and decides to go slumming among humans for a few days to see if he can figure out why.

And he falls in love. 

With a human.

Which can’t end well for that poor lady.

Arthur forgets his popcorn.

The drama is absolutely contrived and thoroughly effective. The struggles of the inhuman to understand the human—

The choice of the human to understand the strange—

“And tonight, I must go back to my distant kingdom,” says Fredric March, whose portrayal of Death is passionate, quiet-spoken, and rife with tortured drama.

“Will you take me with you?” says Evelyn Venable, who plays Grazia, the love interest, and whose name means grace.

“Take you?” says Death, who is pretending to be something he is not, who is carrying on a wild con with the goal of… enlightenment? “Take you? I should be so unhappy alone. Take you? Oh, no, no… don’t tempt me. But Grazia, give me one hour of you—let me hold you once, and feel your life.”

Holy shit, Arthur thinks, because he’s pretty sure he knows how Grazia feels.

Sort of. He’s no damsel, and whatever he and John are isn’t romantic, but still?

“Now you see me as I am,” says Death, at last revealed as shadow, as monster, as darkly divine.

“But I've always seen you like that! You haven't changed,” says Grazia.

She chooses him, knowing what he is.

She chooses him, knowing what it will cost.

The music swells, and Arthur finds himself tearing up. “Then there is a love which casts out fear, and I have found it! And love is greater than illusion… and as strong as death!” Death declares.

John cheers. She goes with him! She went with him! Yes, Arthur!

Does John see the parallels, too?

Arthur isn’t brave enough to ask.

He wipes his eyes, amazed, moved. Almost envious of that stupid made-up girl.

Yeah. This one hit different. 

He can’t help wondering, silly as it is, if this movie was based on something that really happened.

Death and Grazia, reaching across the gap.

It’s not him and John.

But then, who can say just what they are?

#

In March, John says, Arthur, I want to see a movie.

Arthur is tired. “Really? Now?”

Why not? We owe ourselves a little treat.

They do, but after Death’s little romance, Arthur’s not sure he’s ready.

He has decided “friend” is the word for them, but only because he doesn’t have a better one.

Its problem is, it’s not strong enough. It’s nowhere near strong enough.

Arthur is well aware that facing off against the damned pallid mask cult again is the reason for his mood, but what he needs to remember is they failed. 

He’s alive. 

John is still here.

John did not take his exit, his gilt and crafted fire escape, much to the cult’s confusion.

When Arthur destroyed their framework of magic and bone, John cheered him on.

John doesn’t seem to miss them, or regret Arthur’s success.

That means a lot.

Friend? Sure. In lieu of a better word.

Arthur sighs. “What do you want to see?”

#

Jimmy the Gent is bonkers.

Arthur half wonders if it pushes the bar so hard because the Hays Code is breathing down Hollywood’s collective neck, threatening to end artistic freedom forever.

He also wonders if anyone but James Cagney and Bette Davis could have pulled this plotline off.

Cagney plays an unscrupulous man who seeks out wealthy folks who died without a will, then produces heirs to rake in the moolah—heirs who aren’t even real.

The main conflict is his girlfriend balking at his techniques, bailing to join a competitor, and coming back again when the eponymous Jimmy shows himself to be slightly less wicked than the other guy.

There isn’t actually a hero. It’s not black and white; it may be comedy, but it’s comedy gray.

“The only thing he's got that I want is you, and he took you away from me,” says Jimmy.

Oof. Those are some words to hear, and Arthur struggles not to apply them.

“He's got ethics,” says Davis, the dame Joan.

“I don't care if he has carbuncles. The only difference between him and me is he's got a smoother line,” says Cagney as the eponymous Jimmy.

Haha… ah. Wow.

“You can't make yourself clean by making him dirty,” says Joan, and Arthur’s stomach twists.

Arthur slowly exhales. This is a poor allegory for the King in Yellow and him, isn’t it?

But it maybe isn’t so bad for him and Larson.

He’s a little bit better than Larson. Just a little. Is that enough to make him good?

John, funny enough, doesn’t wrestle with morality at all in this, but has a blast with the humor, and praises the cleverness of the characters. He particularly appreciates the way Jimmy puts on airs to win back his lady love. Goal achieved, intimacy earned, all for the price of a barrel of determination and a pinch of deceit.

Arthur is uncomfortable as fuck, and eats all the popcorn at the film, too much popcorn, and gives himself a stomachache.

Somehow, he feels it is deserved.

#

In May, John says, Arthur, I want to see a movie.

They end up picking one all about deceit, romance, and false identity.

The Thirty Day Princess is a heck of a ride.

Are you trying to tell me something? Arthur thinks at a god he doesn’t believe in, thinks at the King in Yellow who is and is not John.

“She Reminds Me of You,” croons Bing Crosby as the hero dances with the princess-under-false-pretenses, who’s filling in for her sick counterpart for a total of thirty days.

Who looks exactly like the ill royal, but most definitely is not her.

I'm standing all alone I've got nothing to live for She reminds me of you And she reminds me of you And it breaks my heart in two

Dear fucking gods.

John is not the King in Yellow.

Except that he is.

Arthur hasn’t processed this. Hasn’t figured it out.

I am the King in Yellow, sounds John’s voice in Arthur’s memory, and Arthur ends up physically ill at the end of the film.

John is quite concerned, but Arthur doesn’t know what to tell him when he asks what’s wrong, and leaves all his questions unanswered like unraveling thread.

#

In September, John says, Arthur, I want to see a movie.

Enough time has passed that Arthur’s resistance has worn down.

He refused two months in a row. He rejoiced (in silence) that the madness with the Order of the Falling Star prevented any such frivolity through August.

But now that’s done, and Kayne has another poorly defined deal that began with an entire group of cultists violently dead, and Percy has Arthur’s blood in a jar for some reason and a promise of future contact, and it’s done.

For better or worse, it’s done.

And it’s quiet.

And John wants to see a movie.

“You know what?” says Arthur, who could use the distraction. "There’s one I want to see, too. Do you know the poets Elizabeth Barret and Robert Browning? Well… Elizabeth wrote some of the most wonderful verse about love and longing that anyone ever has, and apparently, there’s a movie about it, so let’s go see.”

#

The Barretts of Wimpole Street turns out to be completely not what Arthur expected.

Love disallowed by a sex-repulsed parent, physical illness barring the freedom afforded any ordinary adult, a stressful and creepy scene with incestuous undertones, and a decision to kill a beloved pet dog (which fortunately did not pan out) leave Arthur feeling absolutely weird about the whole thing.

The movie tiptoes a lot about morality, about right and wrong, about societal norms and familial expectations.

At least some of it reminded him of arguments with Daniel, after Bella had come down pregnant.

At least some of it reminded him of arguments with James, the day Faroe was born.

All of it reminded him of whatever he has with John, and he doesn’t know how to interpret that.

Norma Shearer as Elizabeth asking, “Robert, have you ever thought that my strength may break down on the journey?”

Frederick March as Robert answering: “It had occurred to me, yes.”

Arthur feels so very mortal, these days.

“Supposing I were to die in your hands?” she says.

“Are you afraid?”

Yes, thinks Arthur. I’m very afraid.

And then comes the line that hits hardest. “Yes,” says Robert Browning. “I am prepared to risk your life, much more my own, to get you out of that dreadful house and into the sun and to have you for my wife.”

Was that an okay thing to say?

Arthur doesn’t know.

He feels like he and John have each made that decision for each other, more than once.

But nobody’s a wife. 

Or something.

He’s not really sure what he’s internally protesting.

“I'm sick of fighting alone. I need a comrade in arms to fight beside me,” Robert says.

“But not one already wounded in battle,” Elizabeth says, who feels lesser, who feels so weak.

“Wounded but undaunted, unbeaten, unbroken. What finer comrade could a man ask for?”

Undefeated.

Arthur swallows hard. Maybe this one was pointed at him, after all.

That was kind of depressing, John pronounces with great cheer as they leave, having enjoyed every moment, and described it all to Arthur in an effort to help him enjoy it, too. I can’t believe he wanted to kill the dog! 

“Well,” says Arthur. “Some people are… cruel… when they lose.”

Someone should kill him instead, John says, and he is joking.

Probably joking.

It feels like John’s moral compass is more reliable than Arthur’s own, these days, so Arthur decides to just let that one go.

#

In October, Arthur says, “John—I want to see a movie.”

Really? You do? You want to hear one, you mean? says John, who’s being clever.

Arthur is able to laugh. “Yes, you whacko.”

John’s pleased. Arthur can feel it. I know you are, but what am I?

Arthur laughs again.

The back-and-forth is ridiculous, but feels so damn good in spite of that. Easy; effortless. Affectionate, knives long stashed.

Three whole weeks have passed since the Rancid Ruby case, and their successful retrieval of the jewel (and the minister’s daughter, whom they hadn’t even known was missing) has brought them enough business and enough income that Arthur has begun to believe John is right: they’re going to be okay.

It’s also put the final nail in the dismissal of their murder case. The minister stood as a character witness, and finally swayed the judge. Who knew?

Parker and Eddie’s deaths have been officially attributed to a burglary gone wrong—backed by Arthur’s wrecked car, miles from the scene; by hospital proof that Arthur, unidentified, had been in a coma; and by Arthur’s indisputable claim of amnesia, causing his disappearance for many months. 

Larson is MIA, having been carried off by the monstrous thing he summoned.

The Butcher is retired, having philosophized himself into a monastery, eager for hypocritical redemption and literal flagellation.

Kayne hasn’t called his favor, but right now, it’s hard to look toward that with horror.

Even this latest case worked out, with a wild showdown in Central Park, loads of witnesses, and the Jade MacGuffin returned to its owner.

It’s all coming up roses. Arthur is almost able to hope.

So what did you want to see? says John.

“Well, they’re saying this will be one of the last great movies—the Hays Code, and all,” says Arthur, who has tried to explain it, and shared John’s frustration at the enforcement of false human experience and morality on screen. “It’s about the great Egyptian queen Cleopatra—a tragic love story, and one that’s inspired all manner of art, music, poetry, and more for centuries.”

Sure. Sounds good. The theater on 15th has popcorn, you know.

That’s all Arthur needs to hear.

#

And it isn’t pointed, it really is not. But it sort of fits how he’s feeling, anyway.

“Together, we could conquer the world,” Cleopatra says, Elizabeth Taylor making every word so sensual that Arthur could drown in any one of them for a week.

“Nice of you to include me,” Warren William’s Julius Caesar replies, and Arthur chuckles, and John says, Hahaha! You can do better! and it’s such a beautiful, perfect shared moment.

And of course, she can do better—in the form of Marc Antony, played by Henry Wilcoxon.

Arthur loses himself in it all, even though he can’t see. The cast is huge. The effects (via John) are jaw-dropping. The music score is moving and expertly done.

When Taylor says, "On. Your. Knees,” Arthur feels some things he really doesn’t know what to do with, but the moment passes quickly.

Cleopatra is everything Arthur wanted in an evening of self-indulgent escape, and John’s continued enthusiasm only makes it more sweet.

Arthur sniffles at the tragic ending, even though he knew it was coming, which Taylor plays to the hilt.

It definitely doesn’t feel pointed like the other movies did. Arthur figures out why when it’s done, while he’s waiting for everyone else to file out so he can leave the theater unhindered.

A lack of communication and irreconcilable core values led to the tragedy on screen.

That’s not him and John. Well, it used to be; but Arthur is certain it’s not anymore.

John says, I think I understand her.

“Her? Cleopatra? How so?”

And with that unnervingly good memory John sometimes demonstrates, he quotes: ‘So Rome would forgive and take you back? And all they demand is for us to part. Why don't they ask the sun to fall right out of the sky?’

Arthur swallows.

That’s how I feel about you, says John, who has never said he loves Arthur, but has shown it, repeatedly and without hesitation.

Arthur has some thoughts on that. "I feel the same,” he says, who has never said those words to John, even though the King in Yellow called him on it months ago.

But Arthur’s fairly sure he’s shown it, too.

He's been thinking a lot about love, of late.

About what it really is, and how it is expressed.

About how the movies usually portray two kinds: romantic, and familial.

This love is neither. It’s different, loaded with unknown spice, broken free from a mold Arthur cannot name.

But it is absolutely real, and Arthur has come to a conclusion that shakes him to his core: he was already willing to die for John, many months ago, yes. But now?

Now, he’s willing to live for him.

Even if Kayne decided to offer me a body, I’m not going anywhere, John says out of nowhere.

“A body?” Arthur isn’t sure where that idea came from. “I doubt he’d do that.”

John says nothing.

Arthur tries to bridge whatever unexpected gap this is, squirming with things in the dark. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to obtain papers for you, if that happened. Make you all legitimate.”

Really. Is that so?

Arthur has to poke. “I’ll say you’re from Montana. That should explain away any obvious social gaffes.”

Gaffes! I’ll have you know I’m far better at handling people than you.

“Well, I suppose we’ll see, won’t we? In this theoretical future that probably won’t happen.”

There’s another slight pause. Arthur frowns.

I want my name on the business, John suddenly says.

Arthur snorts.

Arthur! I’m serious!

“Yes, yes. I don’t see why not.” Arthur is more concerned he might not get his sight back than that John’s name is painted on frosted glass. “Lester and Doe, Private Investigators For Hire.”

Doe and Lester.

“Excuse you. I was in it first.”

But I’m clearly the smarter partner.

Arthur laughs. “You dork.”

And will probably be better-looking, too.

“Now, that’s going too far,” says Arthur, chuckling. 

You’ll see. I’ll draw everyone’s attention with my glorious form, and that’ll give you time to riffle their drawers.

“That’s… not a horrible idea, honestly, though there are a few problems with that—namely, you have no body, and even if you did, I’d still be blind.”

Well, I… well, we…

“Gotcha,” says Arthur, smug, because it’s easier to laugh at this possible future than actually deal with any of it, though even the shadow it casts hurts.

You did not. That’s not even a point. Half a point, maybe.

“Lester and Doe, it is,” Arthur says, because it’s fun to poke the bear.

Instead of answering, John gasps.

Arthur knows John. Knows him well. And immediately stops walking.

“You know, just when I think you two can’t get any cuter, you go and wrap a bow on your dicks and call it Christmas,” says Kayne so close that Arthur can feel breath on his lips.

Arthur staggers back a few steps, then stops himself. Running won’t help. “What do you want?”

Kayne must have kept pace with him, because he speaks just as close, an inch away. “It’s your lucky day! Oh, did you tell him, snippet? Did you? I assume you would have by now, I mean, it’s not like you had half a year or something to figure out how to broach the topic.”

Oh, no. What?

It’s like the ground under Arthur’s feet is shaking, ground he’d thought was solid, but hides a deep and jagged fault line. “What is he talking about?”

Arthur, I—

“Too late now!” says Kayne, and there is a whoosh of air.

Arthur staggers. He didn’t move, but he did, and the sounds and smells tell him he’s no longer on the sidewalk, but in an alley.

And then comes a voice he hates.

A drawl, casual and arrogant, and it doesn’t even matter that it’s coming from waist-height, because his immediate urge is to attack it at once like a bird in a mirror.

“Well, this isn’t what I expected,” says Wallace Larson.

Arthur takes a step.

John reaches across his chest and grabs his arm, hard, like a physical restraint.

“Oh, the webs we weave when we practice to deceive,” says Larson, who sounds fine and dandy, if a little shorter than before.

Arthur, says John, evenly. He’s not alone. He’s strapped to a weird, short table, barely fitting into the alley, and his legs are jammed against the wall. And he’s not alone.

And because this wasn’t fraught enough, the next voice is identical.

Identical. But it isn’t John.

You! Murderer!

“Yellow?” says Arthur, shock stealing sound and sense from this moment, tingling through his body so his face feels numb.

Kayne bounces something light off the side of his head.

“What?” Arthur startles.

“Sorry, thought you’d open your mouth for it, like a baby bird. Popcorn?” Another one hits right under his eye.

“Stop it! What are you doing?”

It’s time for justice! Yellow declares.

Oh, shut the fuck up, John snarls.

Traitor! bellows Yellow.

And Larson starts to sing. Insultingly, it is a hymn.

“Bury my body,” Larson croons in a surprisingly pleasing baritone. “Lord, I don't care where they bury my body. Lord, I don't care where they bury my body, ‘cause my soul is gonna live with God.”

Arthur is going to kill him. The rest of this can sort itself out. He takes another step.

“Hold on there, boyo,” says Kayne in the Butcher’s accent, and takes Arthur’s hand. “You’ll need this.”

That is the handle of a knife. A knife, pressed into his right palm, which means Kayne wants him to do this, and that pours cold water all over the whole operation.

The handle burns, but Arthur ignores that.

Go ahead, says Yellow. You’re already a killer. I see it in your eyes. I know you, Arthur Lester!

This can’t be happening.

“It is, though,” whispers Kayne in his ear. “Looks like Little John didn’t tell you anything, did he? That’s a real foundation for trust.”

“What?” says Arthur, who feels stuck like a skipping record.

You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, says John.

I do. He confessed. He murdered that man and fucking ATE HIM.

He did that because of you! John roars at Yellow. You’re the one who put him in the pit! You’re the one who sent him the gods-damned cannibal! What did you want him to do, just sit back and be eaten?

“What?” says Arthur, weakly.

Because for Yellow to have done that means—

I did? says Yellow, sounding as confused as if he’d been thocked on his phantasmal head.

“Oh, oh, oh yeah,” sings Larson. 

Arthur needs a moment.

“I’m not leaving,” he snaps before anybody can yell at him, and turns to stand at the entrance to the alley, just breathing.

He’s very, very glad he had no alcohol with dinner tonight.

“I dunno, pal, it might’ve helped you out,” Kayne says.

“What is this?” says Arthur.

“Isn’t it clear? No, I suppose it’s not—guess good old Liz (or maybe Henry) redirected the blood from your brain to elsewhere. You’re here to kill your enemy, my boy! End the torment. Flip the switch. Bring that hammer down.”

Arthur swallows. He’s tasting metal again—a thing he’s noticed only happens when he’s on the verge of panic.

Which he is. He doesn’t know what’s going on.

Arthur, I can explain.

“Shhh,” says Kayne, and touches Arthur’s lips.

Arthur tries for him with the knife. 

Of course, it only hits brick, jarring his hand. “Ow,” he mutters. “Damn it!”

“He’ll get to explain it all after. For now, however, you, being the key in this situation, being fully entangled with him, and thus, his representative with a physical form, have a job to do.”

“What job? I haven’t agreed to—is this my favor? For killing those cultists?”

Kayne laughs. “No, you sweet thing. It’s his.”

“His?” Arthur’s voice is small.

I… Arthur, I…

Get back here! Coward! Yellow calls from the alleyway.

“I have questions,” says Arthur, but he honestly can’t think of one.

Kayne tsks at him. “I can see you’re in shock, you tender soul, you, so let’s make this simple. Do this, or John’s gone.”

“Gone?” Arthur’s voice cracks.

“Removed. Incised. Purged, if you will. It’s what he agreed to.”

“John?” says Arthur.

This is what you wanted him in New York for? John says, sounding incredulous.

Arthur’s brain has skipped parts of this conversation like it touched an electrical fault, and he blurts, “Yellow is the King in Yellow, isn’t he?”

Kayne laughs. “Wow, are you behind! They’re both the King in Yellow, my darling rose. Snippet, what have you been teaching him? What, nothing? Well, this is on you, then.”

Get back here! howls Yellow. We’re not finished!

“I said all right,” Larson starts singing again. “You know it's alright. It's alright, c'mon.”

And it calms Yellow. It calms the piece of the King in Yellow, the copy of John that Arthur betrayed, that Arthur ruined so badly that he’s refused to think about it because there’s no fixing what went wrong.

“You are correct on that one,” Kayne confirms. “This is fun, and all, but boys… you’re losing my patience. It’s time.”

Arthur finds himself walking back into the alley.

It’s easy to follow Larson’s voice. 

To follow the sweet-syrup sound of that most hated man, who is awfully damn calm about this, and that is the one thought that surfaces. “You’re awfully damn calm about this, Larson,” Arthur snarls.

“Of course I am, my boy. I’m about to enter immortality. Little hard not to face that with some sorta joy, given all I paid for it.”

“Paid for it!” Arthur’s voice breaks. “You didn't pay for it! Your daughter did!”

“So did yours,” says Larson, who shouldn’t know that, who must have been told by Kayne. “We both got to where we are through that most unfortunate necessity, didn't we?”

Murderer! Yellow declares.

Six months ago, that would have been it.

Arthur would have lost it. Gone feral, melted into violent goo, stabbed and tore and shouted until he was covered in gore, until Larson was unrecognizable, until the form could compete with Uncle for mess and mayhem and pulp in bad places.

Today, he pauses.

It’s not the same, says John, calm, because this is only for Arthur. You know it’s not. We’ve been over this.

He killed his daughter! says Yellow.

He made a mistake and she died—and what the fuck are you crowing about? Your guy sacrificed his on purpose! One’s an accident and the other isn't! Fuck, how stupid are you? Did I get all the intelligence, is that it?

What? says Yellow, again taken aback, again stuttered to a halt in the middle of rage.

Arthur realizes with a little gut-twist that Yellow is weirdly naive.

Gullible. That’s the word. He just accepts what anybody says in the moment, then applies that black and white, childish morality.

Yellow would not understand half the movies they’d seen of late.

Why? Why was this?

“Because he didn’t get to spend a month all alone, silly,” says Kayne. “Isn’t that neat? It’s all about godhood and nature versus nurture and all that kind of thing. If you’d been awake the whole time, your John would be even screwier than he is. It’s almost like your bad luck scratches the itch of some eager, chaotic observers. Anyway! What’s the hold up? That’s the guy who hurt you, Arty. That’s the guy who made your teeth loose. You really gonna hesitate now?”

That’s the guy means Yellow, not Larson, and this just got more complicated. “What happens to Yellow if I do this?” says Arthur, because he never asked that before, and he should have, and it’s probably too late, but that’s just how his life goes.

“Hm? Oh, he’ll die,” says Kayne.

John gasps.

Shit. “And what happens to John, then?” says Arthur.

“Heck if I know. This is all new territory, which is why I’m being so patient. Don’t want to miss a thing.”

“Lead me, Jesus, lead me,” sings Larson. “Why don't you lead me in the middle of the air, and if my wings should fail me, won't you provide me with another pair?”

“So you’re crackers,” says Arthur. “Barmy. Lost your damned mind. This isn’t Jesus. This is Kayne. He’s not going to do anything good for you.”

Kayne gasps. “Such ingratitude!” And he laughs. “Next, you’re going to say you don’t want your office filled with music boxes.”

Okay, that—

Okay.

Arthur needs another moment.

“You don’t get one,” Kayne whispers in his ear. “It’s time. John didn’t tell you, and I’m glad he didn’t, because you are fucking glorious this upset, but it’s time. Kill him.”

“Why?” whispers Arthur, and means so many things.

Kayne doesn’t bother to reply.

I… Arthur, I….

“Will you be all right, John?”

I don’t know.

Arthur grips the knife. Its burning leather handle creaks, and Arthur accepts the pain in his palm, because something this messy should not be easy.

Yellow gasps. You’re going to do it in cold blood?

“I’m sorry, Yellow,” says Arthur, because Yellow is not really the King in Yellow, any more than John is. “It seems I fucked up for you all over the place.”

You’re a killer. I don’t expect anything better from you.

He’s human, says John. He’s made mistakes, and stayed alive. Your guy’s no better.

Yellow seems stunned again. He’s not?

Larson laughs. “Little guy, it’s all right. This is where it was always going. Why do you think I had to get you to New York? You’re my final step. My sacrifice. Your death’ll elevate me, son. Mister Lester, I’m fully ready. Do the deed. Let’s get this over with. Then, when I’m ascended, and I’m a god, I’ll be sure to stop by and say hi.”

Arthur’s throat is tight. “He can’t be serious.”

“His deals aren’t for you to know,” says Kayne. “Also, you’re out of time.”

“Wait,” says Arthur.

“Say goodbye to John in three,” says Kayne.

“Wait!” says Arthur, who has an idea, who suddenly thinks—

“Two,” says Kayne. 

With a choked, miserable sound, Arthur cuts Larson’s throat.

But not with the knife Kayne gave him.

“Oh, foul!” Kayne cries. “Oh! Oh! Cheater!”

Andrew! says Yellow, sounding distraught. Andrew! No! No!

What did you do? says John.

“Improvised?” says Arthur, who has no idea what he’s done, except he had to save John, except the knife Kayne gave him was maybe special, except this complete guess was the only hope he had, and he’d only had time to stuff Kayne’s knife away and grab his own instead.

Larson gargles. He sounds like he’s trying to laugh.

Andrew! Yellow sobs it. Andrew! He doesn’t seem to be dying.

So it worked?

So Larson doesn’t get godhood?

Arthur’s hand is warm with blood. He doesn’t know what to do. He tries to clean that knife inside his jacket, where he hopes it won’t show.

Kayne sighs. Paces. 

Kayne punches the wall.

It’s a bad sound, cracking, crumbling. Something inside the building crashes down, and there are screams.

Arthur shakes.

“You know,” says Kayne. “I’ll give you this one. I’ll hand it to you. Didn’t predict it. That’s awful rare. So I’m really pissed at you, and you’ll feel that soon enough—but I can appreciate a good scam.”

“I didn’t pull a scam,” Arthur says, quieter, because Yellow has begun to sob.

It is an ugly sound, wretched, utterly unselfconscious.

He’s doing that because Larson is dead.

It doesn’t feel good. None of this does. Arthur isn’t the same as he was in Addison. “I’m sorry,” he says.

Yellow doesn’t stop crying long enough to answer.

Kayne shoves him suddenly, bruisingly, against the wall. “I am… really… mad at you. I won’t get to pull an experiment like this again for who knows how the fuck long. But… that was the deal. You did the deed. Technically, you’re off the hook. But you, Arthur—you still owe me a favor.”

“I won’t kill Yellow,” Arthur says.

Arthur!

Arthur takes Kayne’s knife back out of his pocket and throws it down, and the clang it makes in the alley is weird, wrong, otherworldly. “I won’t. I’ve done enough to him! Fuck you, I—”

He chokes.

There is a fist is in his throat, impossibly swelling, knuckles distending, expanding, distorting, threatening to tear him from the inside. Can’t swallow around it. Can’t—

It stops. 

Arthur gasps, ragged.

“Better idea,” says Kayne, and suddenly, Yellow’s sobbing is inside his head.

“John!” Arthur manages, gagging, terrified John was swapped into the dead man’s body.

I’m here! I—what the fuck?

Leave me alone! Yellow howls.

They’re both in there, equally loud, equally growly, and it’s too much, there is a weight to the fulness of an eldritch god in his brain, and his own soul feels pinched and battered and stepped on, and he can’t breathe, and—

“This should be fun,” he hears Kayne say, and then he passes out.

#

The arguing is what wakes him.

That doesn’t matter. I don’t care.

Then you’re a hypocrite of the highest order, John snarls.

What does that make you?

Look, you moron, just calling me things doesn’t make it—Arthur! The change in tone is remarkable. Arthur—are you all right? Talk to me, Arthur.

The sharp concern in John’s voice—tenderness mixed with violence, crafted for him.

Arthur recalls Yellow weeping over Larson, and he aches for him, and wonders if his own inner compass has gotten even more broken over the last day. “I’m… I’m here. Fuck, I sound strangled.”

He does. Haggard, raspy. 

Larson could out-sing him at this very moment, and he won’t be able to sing to calm Yellow for a while, and that is such an odd thought to have that Arthur’s face burns, and he rolls over to press it into the cool pillow.

Wait. Pillow?

Lucky, says Yellow, low and bitter. Yours woke up.

I told you he would. He’s remarkable.

Andrew was remarkable.

Wallace Larson was a motherfucking cheat who traded children and people’s lives all the time to seem interesting. Arthur does it all on his own.

Arthur feels not all on his own a little too much, right now. “Yellow.”

What? says the new voice, and the tone is fearful, and challenging, and tight.

Is he doing this?

He’s doing this.

Arthur already decided he’s doing this, and he may be many things, but he doesn’t easily change his mind. “I’m sorry.”

Both the voices in his head are still for a moment.

What? they say together.

“I’m sorry. I met you when I was… I was at the worst of myself. I lied to you, and tried to control you, because I was so afraid of losing you again. Losing… John again. Kayne told me you were him, and I thought… you know, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I fucked up, Yellow. I’m sorry.” It feels weak. “That’s all.”

There is a trembling inside, a non-corporeal shaking that feels like maybe the fault line has been transplanted into him.

How dare you? Yellow says.

I told you so, says John.

How dare you lie to me! You just murdered my… you killed him!

Arthur sighs. “I did. I wasn’t letting John get taken. No matter what shape I’m in, that’s… just how it’s going to be.”

That trembling again.

Larson was ready to sacrifice you, like I said—but you’re safe now, says John to Yellow, which Arthur did not expect. You’re me. He won’t hurt you.

That’s more faith in Arthur than Arthur has for himself.

I’m not you. We can’t even merge, Yellow says.

“You can’t?��� says Arthur, who’d forgotten that was a thing until this moment.

No. We… we’ve both changed too much. We can’t.

There is sorrow in John’s voice, deep and aching, a finality that communicates loss Arthur can’t fully comprehend.

It’s a farewell to a thing Arthur cannot even imagine needing.

He has no idea how to engage with it, so he goes for familiar ground. Not a poem, but the movie they just saw—a way to say, I love you, without saying those words. “‘You choose me, Cleopatra, against the world,’” he says.

John practically surges to respond. ‘Then we'll meet it! We'll smash it to pieces, put it together again and call it ours!’

Yellow is, understandably, confused. You’re going to smash the world?

“No, we… no. It’s a movie.”

What’s a movie?

John scoffs. Your asshole of a guy didn’t even take you to see a movie? We’ve seen six in just a few months!

But what is one? I want to see one! What is it?

Arthur is not going to see a movie right now. He feels like his head weighs a thousand pounds. “How did I get to a bed? Did Kayne bring me here?”

There is a distinctly guilty pause. So, says John. When you’re fully unconscious, uh. We. Um.

We have control of your hideous form, Yellow informs him. You’re in your hotel room.

“What? Wait, what?” Arthur sits up. He feels the same. Blind, left hand and foot numb. Head too heavy, but—“What?”

When you’re unconscious, repeats John, we have control. So we got you out of there, because there’s a dead body, and we don’t need to face the police again.

Cowards, both of you, says Yellow.

Maybe he should take Yellow to see some morality plays before the movies, or something. “Where’s the knife? It had my fingerprints.”

Fucking Kayne took it back. It was weird, Arthur. I’m glad you couldn’t see it. Even with me looking through your eyes, they bled.

Arthur stiffens and reaches up. Sure enough, there are dried tracks of blood from his eyes down his neck. “Fuck. Can you see?”

Yes. You seem all right. Just… that knife was bad.

Why—Yellow stops.

“Why what?”

Why didn’t you use it?

Arthur’s not sure he’s in any shape to verbalize this. “What I did to you before wasn’t right. What Larson was doing to you now wasn’t right. It’s time someone didn’t do the wrong thing by you, is all.”

Silence in response.

Whatever that means.

Arthur stands, shaky as a newborn lamb, and feels his way to the bathroom. He strips as he goes, dropping clothing in a trail.

Is it time for a rite? says Yellow, oddly hopeful.

Rite?

He’s naked.

So?

This is too weird, and Arthur does not engage. He turns on the shower. 

But… humans get naked for rites.

John scoffs. He told you that? What the fuck?

They don’t get naked for rites? Yellow sounds lost again.

“So what you’re telling me is fucking Larson never washed his arse,” Arthur mutters, and John laughs.

Don’t you know anything about humans? says John then, disgusted.

Of course I do! More than you!

They are clearly going to be at this for a while.

Arthur lets them, hoping they tire themselves out.

He’s scraped from the bricks in the alley. Bruised from Kayne’s manhandling, and, he thinks, inside his throat. His right hand, disturbingly, seems to have been slightly burned where he held that weird knife. He can’t be sure, but he thinks he’s lost his fingerprints.

But he’s okay. He made it.

He always makes it.

And for the first time in his life, weirdly, he feels like he might have a second chance at something he truly fucked up.

They’re still fighting about naked humans. It’s obviously a cleansing rite!

You’re a moron!

“Yellow,” says Arthur. “I’m sorry you lost your person. He was a monster, but… I get it, and I’m sorry. Good, bad—they don’t matter when there’s grief.”

Another trembling pause as the steam rises, and Arthur washes away the blood, the sweat, the dubious stickiness he finds where Kayne grabbed him through his suit jacket.

I… didn’t like it, says Yellow, soft.

“I know. I think we’ve all… we’ve all gone through some loss here, through no fault of our own.”

Don’t tell me you feel bad for taking that fucker out, says John. You’ve been wanting him dead for months.

Arthur knows clarification is needed, and it is the hardest thing to do, but he has to make this second chance count. “Since I learned he sacrificed his daughter for power, yes. It made me think of losing my little girl, and though that was… that was an accident, I couldn’t… imagine someone doing it on purpose. I went a little insane.”

A little? scoffs John.

“A lot insane, then. Still. Yellow wouldn’t have landed in him at all if I hadn’t been such an ass.”

Actually, says John. About that.

Arthur has been thinking. “You made a deal with Kayne.”

I… yes.

Why? says Yellow.

To get back to Arthur.

Why? Yellow says.

He’s mine, says John.

“And, what? It was just about getting me to New York?”

Yes. He said if I did that, I could stay in you. He even hinted he might give me a body, if I paid his debt right, though it wasn’t… worded clearly. If I failed, and couldn’t get you to New York, I’d… I’d go back to the Dark World. But then we were here, and nothing happened, and I… I sort of hoped he’d forgotten.

“You could’ve told me.” It hurts a little. More than a little.

I’m sorry.

Arthur sighs. “I forgive you. We made it through. Just tell me anything else like that, all right?”

I will. I promise.

Yellow is quiet. 

Arthur has no idea how this conversation might stack up against whatever else Yellow has heard.

He dries off and limps back to the bed, where he falls face-first into the pillow. “No joyrides while I’m out. I need rest.”

You adapted to that news pretty quickly, says John, suspicious.

“I have not adapted at all. I’m simply too damn tired to engage with it right now. Tomorrow, I’ll have a proper panic over it, but for the next few hours, I mean it. No joyrides.”

Fine. No joyrides.

But what if we—

We promised. No joyrides.

I didn’t promise, Yellow grouses.

I did, and we are both the King in Yellow, and that’s our word. Shut up.

They are never going to stop.

Weirdly… it’s not that hard to tune them out.

It reminds Arthur of the strangest thing: those noisy, chaotic, wonderful days when Faroe’s “friends”—really just toddlers her age, in the neighborhood—came over, and everybody was yelling and squealing and laughing and demanding, and all the other parents (mothers, they were all mothers, and Arthur never fit in) clustered like chortling geese to add to the ruckus.

And it shouldn’t have been peaceful, but it was.

It shouldn’t have been the kind of noise he could sink into, but it was.

Why this is like that, Arthur doesn’t know.

Maybe he doesn’t need to know.

For some reason, John is now telling Yellow the plot of The Thirty-Day Princess. And then the Baron said, ‘We are on a wild goose egg!’

Yellow laughs.

Is it safe, to leave them unmonitored like this?

Then again, maybe they need it.

Arthur certainly needs it.

He has no idea what to do with this. He has no idea if he can keep them both in there. His skull feels oddly… strained.

But now, right now, he needs sleep.

John promised no joyrides. (Arthur will deal with that horror tomorrow.)

John’s promise, in spite of today’s unpleasant surprise, is good enough.

Yellow’s grief is real. That’s going to take time to navigate. Arthur feels he owes that much.

So… is everyone safe now? At least until Kayne returns?

Maybe.

Arthur doesn’t know how this works, and he’s no longer arrogant enough to assume he ever will.

Maybe he doesn’t have to know.

Maybe it’s enough to survive, and listen, and forgive, and try to make up for mistakes.

To take his chance to make up for one, and hold it with all his heart.

Arthur drifts off to the sound of John’s attempt at a Ruritanian accent.

Maybe it really is coming up roses, after all.

--------

NOTES

Of course, I had to do ridiculous research for this so it would all be accurate.

It's part of my self-indulgence. Hush.

Dancing Lady on Wikipedia, and you get to see the scene that made poor Arthur hot and bothered right here on YouTube.

Death Takes a Holiday is on YouTube in terrible resolution here, BUT if you skip to 1:04:44, you get to see where Grazia chooses to go with Death.

The romp that is Jimmy the Gent. The quip about ethics and carbunkles is right here, at 1:25.

The Thirty Day Princess was hard to track down, but I found a solid review of it, a clip of the Ruritanian accent, and of course, Bing Crosby's She Reminds Me of You.

The Barretts of Wimpole Street, including that DEEPLY uncomfortable clip where the father seems to think all sex is evil, then gets weirdly handsy with his daughter. Yowza.

Oh, Cleopatra... they don't make movies like this anymore. On. Your. Knees.

As for Yellow... well, I saw how he responded to Larson at the end of 28. He just... accepted whatever Larson said - weirdly innocent about it, which made Larson even creepier to me. I sort of figured without a chance to reset and think (like John had during the coma), he wouldn't be able to grow the same way.

The hymn Larson was singing, My Soul is Gonna Live With God. In your dreams, asshole.

#malevolentpod #malevolent fic #malevolent podcast #malevolent #malevolent kayne #arthur lester #john doe malevolent #malevolent fanfic #malevolent arthur #john malevolent #malevolent fanfiction

[deadcryptid]

comprehensive ldpdl alts list

mitski, ganymede, helen of troy, sufjan stevens, saint sebastian, miranda, ophelia, connie blackwood, janie crawford, george (who’s afraid of virginia woolf), frank stanford, emilio sandoz, david (giovanni’s room), lady macbeth, camille preaker, red riding hood, maren (bones and all), izumi hideko…

#he’s so eldest daughter core #this is not actually comprehensive its a wip please add #louis de pointe du lac #iwtv #interview with the vampire #iwtv 2022 #some of these are genuinely impossible to explainso just dw abt it

[cressida-jayoungr]

One Dress a Day Challenge

February: Coeli's Monochrome Picks

Dancing Lady / Joan Crawford as Janie "Duchess" Barlow

It's always weird to me to remember that Joan Crawford was in musicals. Even weirder to remember that Fred Astaire's screen debut was with her!

I particularly like the gown in the bottom photo; it's pure distilled 1930s, with the ruffled skirt and the broad, feathered shoulder silhouette. The backlit effect in the top photo is interesting and makes it look like the dress is nearly transparent; but I suppose even in the pre-code era, they wouldn't go that far...

Just found another photo. Never mind.

#dancing lady #coeli's picks #joan crawford #one dress a day challenge #one dress a week challenge #movie costumes #1933 movies #1933 films #1930s fashion #1930s style #30s fashion #30s style #pre code #pre code hollywood #pre code era #pre code films #pre code movies #black and white movies #black and white films #old hollywood

[steveconte]

“WE LIKE IT”  - Music

“WE LIKE IT”  - Music & Lyrics by Steve Conte & Andy Partridge

Steve Conte - Vocals, Guitars, Percussion, Handclaps

John Conte - Bass

Prairie Prince - Drums

Rob Schwimmer - Keyboards 

Backing vocals - Ian Hunter, Rick Tedesco, Kevin Tyler Preston, Glen Matlock, Prairie Prince, Thommy Price, Marshall Crenshaw, Tommy Henrickson, Kyf Brewer, Marc Broussard, Steve Lillywhite, Kasim Sultan, Jessie Wagner, Palmyra Delran, Genya Ravan, Simon Kirke, Danko Jones, Nasty Suicide, Dennis Dunaway, Kevin Salem, Danny B. Harvey, Jonathan Clarke, Robert Eriksson, Dregen & Majsan, Kevin March, Chips Kiesbye, Rich Ragany, Keith Roth, Damon Johnson, Rich Jones, Billy Hopeless, Alycia Jones, Jay Millete, John & Jennifer Kerns, Danni Action Michael Imperioli, Frank Lammers, Christian Keiber, Kerry McGann, The Brazen Giant Ensemble, Ryan Hamilton, Ben Rubin, Jan Verdoorn, Mickey Leigh, Westley Crawford, Janie Barnett, Nicki Richards, Lajuan Carter-Dent, Baz Conte

We Like It  (Conte/Partridge)

Yeah, yeah we like it

Yeah, yeah we like it

I’ve got something gonna make you scream

Yeah, yeah we like it

I’m the candidate pushing your American dream

Yeah, yeah we like it

All politicians got their pants on fire

Everybody knows the situation is dire

I’m no messiah and I ain’t no liar

But I know what ya want and I know you’re gonna like it

Yeah, yeah we like it

A tap in the kitchen, that turns on the beer

Yeah, yeah we like it

There’ll be no hangovers, they’re illegal here

Yeah, yeah we like it

Now everyone is beautiful from north to south

The only ugly things are what come out our mouths

Peace, love and fun is what it’s all about 

‘Cause I know what ya want and I know you’re gonna like it

Improve your life, husband or wife

Until you're bored or dead and done

Promise you cash, your own fat stash

You know we print it by the ton

You won't go belly up

i'll overflow your cup

'Cause I know what you want and I know your gonna like it

Yeah, yeah we like it

Yeah, yeah we like it…

*Produced by Steve Conte (Additional remote production by Andrew Hollander & Andy Partridge)

*Arrangers - Andy Partridge & Steve Conte

*Published by Thunderdog Music / Teosto (Worldwide), ASCAP (North America) and Warner Chappell / PRS

*Recorded at Renegade Studios, NYC 

*Mixed by Geoff Sanoff

#youtube

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Black Femme Character Dependency Dark Skin Directory: J

J: The Characters

Jack Starbright | Janai | Jane Amphibia | Jane Hayward | Janie Egins | Janine Teagues | Jasmine TD | Jasmine Davis | Jean Peterson | Jennifer Sisko | Jenny Jackson | Jenny Pizza | Jessica Crashing | Jessica Williams | Jill TUA | Jinna | Joana Coelho | Joanna Crawford | Jodie Landon | Jojo Williams | Jolene | Jonelle Abraham | Jordan Armstrong | Jordan Moore | Josie McCoy | Juanita Benson | Judith | Julia Freeman | Juniper Andromeda | Justine Dancer

J: The Entertainers

Jacqueline Moore | Jada Harris | Jade Eshete | Jaimi Gray | Janelle James |  Janelle Monae | Janeshia Adams Ginyard | Janet Hubert | Janet Jumbo |  Javicia Leslie | Javonna Charde’ | Jayden Rey | Jayme Lawson | Jeante Godlock | Jemima Osunde | Jennifer Hudson | Jerrika Hinton | Jessica Allain |  Jessieca Alford | Jill Marie Jones |  Jo Marie Payton |  Jobel Mokonzi | Jodie Turner Smith | Johnnie Hill | Joi Harris | Joie Lee | Jonica “Jojo” T. Gibbs |  Josette Simon | Jwaundace Candece

#BFCD DS Directory #BFCD Dark Skin December #BFCD Dark Skin December 2023 #DSD: J #J #Girl That's Queuedt #Black Female Characters #Black Women in Entertainment

[hollywoodfamerp]

Welcome to the Soneva Jani! 

“Soneva Jani is nestled within the tranquil waters of the Noonu Atoll, where sun-drenched blue skies and azure seas stretch out in every direction. One of the world’s lowest density resorts, there are just 51 over-water and three island residences, the largest and most luxurious villas in the Maldives, each designed for the ultimate privacy, space and breathtaking ocean views. Relax in iconic Water or Island Villas for the ultimate indulgence.”

UNDER THE CUT, YOU’LL FIND THE LIST OF ROOMMATES!

Unless we got a message from you telling us you wanted to be with a specific person or were not in the ships list - you were included in the generator. If you do not see your FCs name on this list, please message us POLITELY and let us know - sometimes a name gets missed getting put into the generator. We’re human and it happens! At the same time, if your FC is on there twice by any chance then please let us know. Again, mistakes happen. As we accept new applications and people come into the group before AND during the event, this list will be updated. Same will go for if people get unfollowed or ask to leave the group. We posted the pairings in advance so that you may reach out to your roommate and get new interactions going! Even if a mun is on hiatus, be sure to reach out to them so that you can see if you can head-canon some interactions or plan for something when they are off hiatus. All trips are to encourage new interactions and unlikely connections!

PLEASE LIKE THIS NOTICE WHEN YOU HAVE READ IT AND SO THAT YOU CAN KEEP TRACK OF THE LIST UPDATES!

Akanishi Jin and Lee Sunmi

Alexis Kaufman (Alexa Bliss) and Taylor Swift

Ana de Armas and Eiza Gonzalez

Andrew Garfield and Lily James

Andy Biersack and Camila Mendes

Anna Kendrick and Brittany Snow

Anya Taylor-Joy and Renee Paquette (Renee Young)

Ariana Grande and Florence Pugh

Ashley Fliehr (Charlotte Flair) and Billie Eilish

Ashton Irwin and Luke Hemmings

Austin Butler and Wong Kunhang (Hendery)

Ava Max and Geoff Wigington

Awsten Knight and Miley Cyrus

Bella Hadid and Nick Robinson

Ben Platt and Emily Bett Rickards

Beyonce Knowles and Gong Yoo

Bill Skarsgard and Lucy Hale

Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds

Brett Tucker and Sarah Drew

Brittany Baker and Tyler Hoechlin

Bruno Mars and Shelley Hennig

Byun Baekhyun and Timothee Chalamet

Camille Rowe and Elizabeth Gillies

Carrie Underwood and Molly-Mae Hague

Cate Blanchett and Julianna Margulies

Chace Crawford and Kaia Gerber

Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul (Ten) and Jackson Wang

Choi Minho and Kim Ahyoung (Yura)

Choi San and Jeon Junkook

Chris Evans and Jade Chynoweth

Christian Yu and Kim Jisoo

Christopher Bang (Bang Chan) and Hwang Hyunjin

Cindy Kimberly and Niall Horan

Colby Lopez (Seth Rollins) and Rebecca Quin (Becky Lynch)

Crystal Reed and Valentina Zenere

Damiano David and Olivia DeJonge

Diamante Quiava Valentin Harper (Saweetie) and Kim Hongjoong

Dove Cameron and Noah Cyrus

Dua Lipa and Jonathan Good (Jon Moxley)

Dylan O’Brien and Maika Monroe

Dylan Sprouse and Madelyn Cline

Eduardo Franco and Peyton Meyer

Emilia Clarke and Jake Gyllenhaal

Emily Osment and Meryl Streep

Emma Mackey and Nick Jonas

Emma Stone and Maura Higgins

Florence Welch and Gigi Hadid

George MacKay and Saoirse Ronan

Grace Van Dien and Harry Kane

Grace Van Patten and Lily Collins

Hailey Baldwin and Joey King

Huh Yunjin and Jerome Flynn

Jamie Campbell Bower and Zendaya Coleman

Jesse Lingard and Ryan Gosling

Jessica Chastain and Robert Pattinson

Jessica Lange and Sarah Paulson

Joe Keery and Maya Hawke

Joseph Quinn and Riley Keough

Jung Yoonoh (Jaehyun) and Lee Taeyong

Kang Seulgi and Karlie Kloss

Kathryn Hahn and Liam Hemsworth

Kehlani Parrish and Selena Gomez

Kim Jongin and Lee Taemin

Kim Jungwoo and Lucas Wong

Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi

Kim Taehyung and Jung Wooyoung

Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) and Mark Lee

Lee Felix and Lee Know (Minho)

Lili Reinhart and Zoe Kravitz

Louis Tomlinson and Ross Lynch

Lupita Nyong’o and Tessa Thompson

Madelaine Petsch and Otto Wood

Maia Mitchell and Mike Faist

Margot Robbie and Sebastian Stan

Mason Mount and Taylor Hill

Mazz Murray and Shay Mitchell

Megan Jovon Ruth Pete (Megan Thee Stallion) and Park Seonghwa

Meghann Fahy and Victoria De Angelis

Mercedes Varnado (Sasha Banks) and Pamela Martinez (Bayley)

Natalia Dyer and Tom Holland

Perrie Edwards and Sabrina Carpenter

Shawn Mendes and Sydney Sweeney

Vanessa Hudgens and Zac Efron

Xiao Dejun (Xiajun) and Yoo Jimin (Karina)

Lauren Jauregui and Elizabeth Olsen

Zoey Deutch and Park Jinyoung 

Alycia Debnam Carey and Hailee Steinfeld

Pedro Pascal and Sadie Sink

Avril Lavigne and Olivia Rodrigo

Sarah Hyland and Jenna Ortega 

Jade Thirlwall and Kathryn Newton

#hollywoodfameevent #hfrpmaldives

[marvelobsessed134]

In this post I will talk about everything to do with requests.

I don’t respond to vague requests meaning ones like “Nikki and a breeding kink” I need some more details especially if I’m going through writers block ykwim 😭

How to request:

Click on the button of my page that says “ask me anything 🤍” and submit an ask either publicly or anonymously. Here you will be able to write and request anything your heart desires.

My favorite people/characters to write for are: Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Kate Bishop, Dwayne and Paul from TLB, Tommy Lee, Nikki Sixx, Vince Neil, Mick Mars, Tom Keifer, Eric Brittingham but I of course love to write for the other people listed below 🩷

Who/what I write for:

Bands/rockstars:

Motley Crue (all members)

Tom Keifer

Eric Brittingham

Gene Simmons

Tommy Thayer

Paul Stanley

Guns N Roses (all members)

Blackie Lawless

Kirk Hammett

James Hetfield

Courtney Love

Kurt Cobain

Dave Grohl

Elvis Presley

Joan Jett

Lita Ford

Bret Michaels

Jani Lane

Stephen Pearcy

Robin Crosby

Sebastian Bach

Peter Steele

Celebrities:

Marvel cast

Taylor Swift

Lana Del Rey

Pamela Anderson

Cindy Crawford

Sydney Sweeney

Michael B Jordan

Marvel men:

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson

Peter Parker (Tom Holland and Andrew Garfield only)

Tony Stark

Thor Odinson

Marvel women:

Natasha Romanoff

Wanda Maximoff

Carol Danvers

Valkyrie

Kate Bishop

Yelena Belova

Kamala Kahn (Platonic only)

Jennifer Walters

Peggy Carter

Julia Cornwall (Sydney Sweeney)

Daisy Jones and The Six:

Daisy Jones

Billy Dunne

Karen Sirko

Warren Rojas/Rhodes

Stranger Things:

Steve Harrington

Billy Hargrove

Robin Buckley

Euphoria:

Cassie Howard

The Lost Boys:

Paul

Dwayne

Star

Topics/prompts I DON’T write about:

Dom!Reader

Age regression/play

Piss kink

Switch!reader

Suicide (whether that be self harm or the act itself)

Body image/EDs/Body insecurities

G!PReader

Angst without a happy ending

Male reader (female reader only)

OCs (I do not write for any original characters that aren’t mine or reader with a face claim)

Male on male sex. I will write MMF threesomes though

Anyways, my requests are always open, so ask away!

#request #requests #fanfic #fanfic request #motley crue x reader #marvel x reader #marvel women #marvel men #marvel cast #marvel fanfic #Cinderella x reader #cinderella band #kiss x reader #kiss band #rocknroll

[dwreader]

I found your post about female literary characters Louis may be interested in or paralleled with fascinating. Do you think Louis would be a fan of Zora Neale Hurston? I think he would find a kinship with Janie Crawford.

I totally agree!! Its interesting cause the book came out in 1937 which is ep6 timeline and that would've been a great time for Louis to read it, but I almost wonder if the show didn't show him reading it cause its a) too contemporary in that louis isn't the type to read the new releases and b) it possibly would've been too on the nose like-

there's even a murder trial over the death of a lover and the fact that the entire book is her recounting her life's story to someone else, as well as her being desired as an object by various men who don't see her for herself.

Anyways I'm gonna pretend he was reading it in one of these scenes where we can't see the book

#asks

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Uh-oh, I'm back on my self-indulgence

—-

Psst: it’s ready!

AO3 || Tumblr

Anybody want a feel-good one-shot Malevolent fic involving thought-provoking movies, surprise visits, brutal murder, and Arthur being REALLY clever?

I need to read it over again, but I think it'll be ready to post tonight.

Have a snippet.

Full story coming tonight!

--------

The movie is called Dancing Lady, and Arthur already knows nothing will ever be made like it again once the Hays Code has its way.

It’s a ridiculous love triangle, a “tarnished” woman (a concept Arthur finds absurd) torn between a rich sponsor and a poor lover, both of whom, at least, see her talent for what it is.

There are some scenes in this one. At one point, Clark Gable massages Joan Crawford’s leg, raising it above his shoulder, only hinting at the things that must surely be on display from Gable’s point of view.

Yowza.

It’s hard not to imagine Joan Crawford making the kinds of faces John describes, and Arthur can’t help a little bit of distracting response.

He focuses on his popcorn instead of anything else prone to explode.

“Those guys are a lot of silk hats and silk socks with nothing between,” says Clark Gable on screen, and Arthur laughs.

John huffs. Why are they being so particular about this?  

“Particular about what?” says Arthur.

Tod, Patch, Janie. Why the fuck doesn’t she just lie with both of them? Why do they give a fuck?

Arthur is completely taken aback. “Well, it… I mean… she can’t do that.”

Why not?

Arthur has never in his life considered this question.

It’s about offspring, John decides.

“Ah… no, it’s not really - “

They demand monogamy so there can be no question of inheritance.

“She’s a dancing girl. She has nothing to inherit.”

Sure, but Tod does.

“Yes, but… that isn’t it, John.”

Then what is?

Arthur’s really not sure how to answer. What’s he going to say? That it isn’t the Christian thing to do? “I… it just isn’t done that way. Generally.”

Though in his musician days, he witnessed some truly unique romantic configurations.

It’s a lot to think about.

Stupid, pronounces John with fiendish delight, and continues to tell Arthur everything that’s happening on screen even though Arthur does not reply.

#

In February, John says, Arthur, I want to see a movie.

Arthur sighs. “John. I’ve been fucking stabbed.”

Only a little, says John. The three stitches are fine. You’re fine.

He is fine, honestly. It wasn’t that bad, and in the end, they took out the giant bug-thing that poked him.

He’s pretty sure he isn’t poisoned. Maybe that alone deserves celebration.

Arthur sighs. “Well. I suppose an evening of distraction isn’t such a terrible idea.”

Of course it’s not a terrible idea. It’s mine.

Arthur rolls his useless eyes, but can’t help a little smile. 

#

This movie, though. This movie hits a little different.

Death Takes a Holiday is about Death himself, who is tired of being misunderstood, and decides to go slumming among humans for a few days to see if he can figure out why.

And he falls in love. 

With a human.

Which can’t end well for that poor lady.

Arthur forgets his popcorn.

The drama is absolutely contrived and thoroughly effective.The struggles of the inhuman to understand the human - 

The choice of the human to understand the strange -

“And tonight, I must go back to my distant kingdom,” says Fredric March, whose portrayal of Death is passionate, quiet-spoken, and rife with tortured drama.

“Will you take me with you?” says Evelyn Venable, who plays Grazia, the love interest, and whose name means grace.

“Take you?” says Death, who is pretending to be something he is not, who is carrying on a wild con with the goal of… enlightenment? “Take you? I should be so unhappy alone. Take you? Oh, no, no… don’t tempt me. But Grazia, give me one hour of you - let me hold you once, and feel your life.”

Holy shit, Arthur thinks, because he’s pretty sure he knows how Grazia feels.

Sort of. He’s no damsel, and whatever he and John are isn’t romantic, but still?

“Now you see me as I am,” says Death, at last revealed as shadow, as monster, as darkly divine.

“But I've always seen you like that! You haven't changed,” says Grazia.

She chooses him, knowing what he is.

She chooses him, knowing what it will cost.

The music swells, and Arthur finds himself tearing up. “Then there is a love which casts out fear, and I have found it! And love is greater than illusion… and as strong as death!”

John cheers. She goes with him! She went with him! Yes, Arthur!

Does John see the parallels, too?

Arthur isn’t brave enough to ask.

He wipes his eyes, amazed, moved. Almost envious of that stupid made-up girl.

Yeah. This one hit different. 

He can’t help wondering, silly as it is, if this movie was based on something that really happened.

Death and Grazia, reaching across the gap.

It’s not him and John.

But then, who can say just what they are?

#malevolent #malevolent fic #malevolent pod #malevolent podcast #malevolent arthur #malevolent kayne #malevolent john

[ausetkmt]

The Black Woman As God

The Black Woman as God is a concept that has been explored in art, literature, and religion for centuries. The idea of the Black Woman as God is often seen as a way to empower Black women and to challenge the dominant white supremacist narrative.

There are many different ways to interpret the concept of the Black Woman as God. Some people see it as a literal interpretation, meaning that they believe that Black women are literally God. Others see it as a more metaphorical interpretation, meaning that they believe that Black women embody the divine feminine. Still others see it as a combination of both literal and metaphorical interpretations.

There is no one right way to interpret the concept of the Black Woman as God. It is a complex and multifaceted concept that can be interpreted in many different ways. However, all interpretations of the concept share a common goal: to empower Black women and to challenge the dominant white supremacist narrative.

The concept of the Black Woman as God has a long and rich history. It can be traced back to the ancient world, when Black women were often worshipped as goddesses. In many African cultures, for example, the Earth Mother was worshipped as a Black woman. The Earth Mother was seen as the source of all life, and she was revered for her fertility and her ability to give birth.

The concept of the Black Woman as God also has a strong presence in the Bible. In the book of Exodus, for example, Moses is led to the Promised Land by a Black woman named Miriam. Miriam is a powerful and prophetic figure, and she is often seen as a symbol of the Black Woman as God.

In the New Testament, the Virgin Mary is often seen as a symbol of the Black Woman as God. Mary is a Black woman who gives birth to Jesus, the Son of God. She is seen as a symbol of love, compassion, and strength.

The concept of the Black Woman as God is also present in African American literature and art. In the novel Their Eyes Were Watching God, for example, Zora Neale Hurston writes about a Black woman named Janie Crawford who is on a journey to find her true self. Janie eventually comes to realize that she is a goddess, and she embraces her power and her divinity.

The concept of the Black Woman as God is also present in the work of many Black artists. For example, the artist Faith Ringgold has created a series of paintings called "The Black Madonna." These paintings depict Black women as Madonnas, and they challenge the traditional image of the Madonna as a white woman.

The concept of the Black Woman as God is a powerful and empowering concept. It is a concept that can help Black women to see themselves as divine and to claim their power. It is a concept that can help to challenge the dominant white supremacist narrative and to create a more just and equitable world.

#The Black Woman As God #god #Black Woman #Youtube

[brooklynislandgirl]

From my beloved @mouthoftheocean Optional tag: Music-fiends, you know who you are. 1.   a song you can listen to on repeat Red Right Hand || Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds Whatever It Takes || Imagine Dragons 2.   a song from one of your favorite albums Alive || Pearl Jam - 10 Levon || Elton John - Madman Across the Water 3.   a song you loved when you were a teenager or kid Mr Brownstone || Guns N Roses Me and Bobby McGee || Janis Joplin The End || The Doors 4.   a song that makes you feel strong The Warrior Song - Leviathan || Sean Householder Wolf Totem || The Hu 5.   a song that makes you sad Indian Sunset || Elton John The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald || Gordon Lightfoot Pirate’s Plea || The Musical Blades 6.   a song that cheers you up Can’t Stop || Red Hot Chili Peppers Mwahahahah || Ookla the Mok Survivor Evolved || Neebs Gaming ft. JT Music {{RIP Thick44}} 7.   a song that reminds you of your friend(s) Lux Aeterna || Clint Mansell Throw Your Arms Around Me || Hunters and Collectors Sugar in the Hold || The Jolly Rogers Friends in Low Places || Garth Brooks 9.   a song that reminds you of yourself Texas Longhorn || Django Walker Closer to the Heart || Rush A Pirate Looks At Forty || Jimmy Buffet 10.  a song that brings back good memories Get the Funk Out || Extreme Amarillo By Morning || George Strait Sex Type Thing || Stone Temple Pilots {feel free to ask why} 11.  a song that grew on you Smooth Criminal || Alien Ant Farm {cover} On a Boat || The Lonely Island 12.  a song from a musical Music of the Night || Michael Crawford - Phantom of the Opera Right Hand Man || Jonathan Young and Caleb Hyles - Hamilton You’ll Be Back || Jonathan Young - Hamilton Falcon in the Dive || Terry Mann - The Scarlet Pimpernel Into the Fire || Douglas Sills and Original Broadway Cast - The Scarlet Pimpernel Madame Guillotine || Original Broadway Cast - The Scarlet Pimpernel Stars || Phillip Quast as Javert - Les Miserables 13.  a song with a great music video Sweep the Leg || No More Kings Jack Sparrow || The Lonely Island 14.  a song that’s better as a cover Temple of Love || Johnny Hollow The Plagues || Jonathan Young and Caleb Hyles -Prince of Egypt Old Town Road || Richaad EB and Jonathan Young 15.  a song that’s better acoustic Down in a Hole || Alice in Chains Radioactive || Daughtry {cover} 16.  a song with great lyrics Anybody Listening? || Queensryche Comfortably Numb || Pink Floyd 17.  a song for summer Santeria || Sublime When the Sun Goes Down || Kenny Chesney Toes || Zac Brown Band 18.  a song for heartache Snuff || Corey Taylor {Slipknot} Fuck You || Cee Lo Green and Daryl Hall

19.  a song for car rides Life is a High Way || Rascal Flatts Free Fallin’ || Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers Calypso || John Denver 20.  a song for the rain Featherstone || Paper Kites What Kind of Love || Childish Gambino Nocturne #20 in C Sharp Minor || Chopin 21.  a song for dancing Can’t Dance || Cooper Allen Rodeo || Garth Brooks What I Love About Sundays || Craig Morgan 22.  a song for making out Hole-Hearted || Extreme More than Whiskey in Mind || Christian Kane Bad Romance || Lady Gaga 23.  a song for a lover Hallelujah || Jeff Buckley A Thousand Years || Christina Perri I’ll Be || Edwin McCain 24.  a song from before you were born White Rabbit || Jefferson Airplane Killer Queen || Queen 25.  a song from a band that’s no longer together Blow Up The Outside World || Soundgarden Big Empty || Stone Temple Pilots 26.  a song you’ve seen live Operation LIVEcrime || Queensryche {{yes the whole album/show}} 27.  a song you want to see live Hollywood Pirate || The Musical Blades House Rules || Christian Kane 28.  a song by a band you don’t usually like   Bang Bang || Jessie J, Ariana Grande, Nicki Minaj 29.  a song you recommend Montero || Lil Nas X

#Turtle Music #If you know...you know and msg me

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Black Femme Character Dependency Dark Skin Directory || Characters Masterlist Pr. 1 (A-J)

A

Abbie Mills | Adelaide Wilson/Red | Agent 355 | Agura Ibaden | Aleesha Morrison | Alexa Brandt | Alexandra Crane | Allison Sawyer | Amanda Stern | Amari Peters | Amber Bennett | Amie Sammuelson Conde | Amina Ramsey | Amy Bellafonte | Anaya Imanu | Angel Dynamite | Angela Abar | Angela Goddard | Angela Moore | Angela Vaughn | Anissa Pierce | Anita Fthe13th | Annalise Keating | Annie Keller | Annie Pearson | Antigone | Aphasia | April Sexton | Apocalypta | Arabella | Artemis | Ashley Banks |  Ashley Collins | August King | Ava Coleman | Aya Al-Rashid | Ayo | Azima Kandie 

B

Barbara Howard | Becca Palmerstone | Beckett Mariner | Becky | Becky Todd | Bella Crawford | Belle Newman | Betty | Billie the Reaper | Bilquis | Bisma | Blackfire | Bo | Bobbi | Bow Kid | Bree Matthews | Bumblebee

C

Caprice Winters | Carmen Eguiluz | Carol | Carol Lockhart | Carole Clarke | Catherine Halliday | Catty Noir | Celeste Bisme Lyons | Celie Johnson | Chantelle Blades | Charlotte Page | Cherise | Chondra Unkrich | Clash | Claudia Grant | Cleo Sowande | Cleopatra Jones | Cobra | Coffee | Cocoa Cookie | Coco Conners | Coco Monvoisin | Condola Hayes | Conny Spalding | Cressida | Cynthia Rose Adams

D

Daisy Grant | Damita | Dana Mythical Quest | Darli Dagger | Dayna Mellanby | Death of the Endless | Deja Pearson | Delilah Benson | Denise Hayworth | Denise Johnson | Diana Freeman | Doc McStuffins | Doctor Slone | Donna Siren | Donna Meagle 

E

Ela | Elektra Abundance |  Elena Felton | Ella McFair | Elzora | Enchantress | Erin Cortland | Esi Jiwe | Esther Hopkins | Ethel Peabody | Evangeline Williamson | Eve Doll 

F

Fanta | Farah Black | Felicia | Foxxy Love | Fringilla Vigo

G

Genevieve Quik | Georgiana Lambe | Girl 6 | Grace Hitchens | Grace James |  Grace Monroe | Grace Ryder | Grace Sienar | Grace Walker | Grandmother 

H

Hailey Collins | Hallie McDaniel | Hanna Lovecraft | Hannah Grose | Hannah Steale | Harley Hidoko | Harper Bettencourt | Harriet Lennox | Harriet Tubman | Hattie Mitchell | Hazel Levesque | Henriette | Hippolyta Freeman | Holly | Honeybear | Hunter | Hunter B 15 

I

Ikora Rey |  Imane Bakhellal | Imani | Imani Izzi | Indra | Inquisitor Reva | Irene Federic | Iridessa | Iris Watkins | Ironheart | Isis

J

Jack Starbright | Janai | Jane Amphibia | Jane Hayward | Janie Egins | Janine Teagues | Jasmine TD | Jasmine Davis | Jean Peterson | Jennifer Sisko | Jenny Jackson | Jenny Pizza | Jessica Crashing | Jessica Williams | Jill TUA | Jinna | Joana Coelho | Joanna Crawford | Jodie Landon | Jojo Williams | Jolene | Jonelle Abraham | Jordan Armstrong | Jordan Moore | Josie McCoy | Juanita Benson | Judith | Julia Freeman | Juniper Andromeda | Justine Dancer

...

I ran out of time. LOL. I’ma work on it tho...

I got 2 jobs. Sometimes, I’m not gonna have the things I intend to bring.\

If anybody want me to tag them whenever I finish actually making this list, just leave it in the replies and I’ll tag everybody once I finish K-Z characters, hopefully before the month is over. 

#BFCD Dark Skin December #Black Female Characters Masterlist #Black Female Characters #dark skinned beauty #Girl That's Queuedt #December #tags masterlist #BFCD Masterlist #neshatriumphs #blackfemmecharacterdependency #source: blackfemmecharacterdependency #List will be updated as needed #A-Z #BFCD DS Directory

[brookstonalmanac]

Birthdays 1.19

Beer Birthdays

James Watt (1736)

George Bechtel (1841)

Frank Reisch (1842)

Frank H. Bechaud (1848)

Henry “Zadie” Benesch (1920)

Five Favorite Birthdays

Lester Flatt; bluegrass musician (1914)

Janis Joplin; rock singer (1943)

Richard Lester; film director (1932)

Robert MacNeil; journalist (1931)

Tom Yeates; cartoonist (1955)

Famous Birthdays

Ursula Andress; actor (1936)

Julian Barnes; writer (1946)

Henry Bessemer; engineer, inventor (1813)

Paul Cezanne; French painter (1839)

Auguste Comte; French philosopher (1798)

Michael Crawford; actor (1942)

Phil Everly; pop singer (1939)

Shelley Fabres; singer, actor (1944)

Terry Hanratty; Pittsburgh Steelers QB (1948)

Tippi Hedren; actor (1935)

Patricia Highsmith; writer (1921)

Alfrederick Joyner; olympic triple jumper (1960)

Ken Keyes; writer (1921)

Dogen Kigen; Japanese spiritual leader (1200)

Robert E. Lee; Confederate general (1807)

Paul McCrane; actor (1961)

Mohammed; spiritual leader (570)

Robert Palmer; rock musician (1949)

Dolly Parton; country singer (1946)

Edgar Allan Poe; poet, writer (1809)

Simon Rattle; conductor (1955)

Paul Rodriquez; comedian (1955)

Katey Sagal; actor (1954)

Junior Seau; San Diego Chargers LB (1969)

Lysander Spooner; philosopher (1808)

Jean Stapleton; actor (1923)

Isaiah Thomas; printer, patriot (1749)

James Watt; scientist, inventor (1736)

Shawn Wayans; actor (1971)

Fritz Weaver; actor (1926)

Alexander Woollcott; writer (1887)

#Birthdays