#Anne visiting the stars for the first time was one of those things that happened without me needing to think too much

[nightunite]

I know we’re not there yet, but I was struck with the idea of Konig having this secret project that he won’t tell reader about once he’s proposed, and reader is starting to get anxious again because maybe she likes Konig just a little. But anyways. The surprise? Is a nursery Konig was putting together because he knew the wedding planning stuff was stressing reader out.

Listen I love this version of Konig the honorable good he is.

🕵️‍♀️

He truly is a good man isn't he? This took me a while to come up with, and my search results look weird now (we love getting ads that don't apply to us), but I'm hoping this turns out good! @beloveds-embrace COME GET YA FOOD

Konig spent a lot of time outdoors recently. She knows this is common, that between hunting season and visiting his lumber yards and his general avoidance of people, he spends more time camped under the stars than his own roof. It's why his return to the barony had stirred up the townsfolk in the first place, carrying rumors of a potential job on the breeze. His staying inside was unusual, owing to the winter being wetter than expected, freezing anything edible in the earth. However, she notes with a bit of guilt as she bites her lip, if anything that would free him to spend more time away from the town as a whole. He should have left to visit the various woods he lay claim to, overseeing and inspecting the lumberyards to ensure there was no decrease in quality as harvesting ramped up with trees long since dormant. No, he stuck around because a doe had wandered in from those very woods, carrying a fawn he intended to claim as his own. Since that night in the cellar roughly two months ago, Konig (Xander, she reminded herself, he will be your husband, call him by his first name) remained firmly at her side, only parting when necessary or to retire to their rooms for the evening, a gentle kiss pressed to her forehead before they both retreat red-faced. Thankfully he took to doing it only when no one else was present, lest one of the others playfully leer and tease them. The first time that happened Xander had pivoted on his heel so quickly he'd collided with a short table, knocking it and the vase atop it to the floor. She couldn't help her giggle at the sight of him, nervously fidgeting as he righted the table and had the workers clean up the shards of porcelain. Such a large man being so cute truly was a sight to see. Yet in the past fortnight, after Duke MacTavish's unexpected visit, he spent copious amounts of time in his workshop, a large shed of sorts set apart from the rest of the home. The sounds of machinery could be heard buzzing to life at the strangest of hours, dim light aglow from one of the windows in the dark of night. He snuck off to it during the day when she was resting or busy finalizing plans for the wedding as well, citing that he had no preferences one way or another for flowers or food, that it was her day. When she voiced her concerns of how the other nobility would critique her choices, he shrugged. "As I said before, mein ricke, let them talk. They have no say in our home, and if they come to our door I will send them away much like Duke MacTavish." Thankfully the ladies of the house had strong opinions on things, from who would walk her down the aisle (Felix would be honored to), to the type of bouquet (Edelweiss, Magnolia, Queen Anne's Lace, an all-white bouquet), to the desserts served (Kennedy would be handling those, already having her taste test during lunches; she was partial to chocolate, though that could be the baby's preference). It helped, having companions who could help her wade through the choice fatigue. Though, it would be nice if Xander showed some preferences of his own, a sign that he wasn't getting cold feet over this union. Can you get cold feet when you never had fiery passion to start? "Madame? The Baron requests your presence in the nursery." She jolts from her thoughts, sitting up from where she lounges on her bed. She follows dutifully after the young man, one of the gardeners, as he leads her up the stairs and to where her fiancé awaits.

Something else that keeps them preoccupied, preparing the nursery for the new arrival. Word had spread beyond the barony of the heir to arrive in the cradle of summer, the shocking news of the wedding rippling through the community only a week prior. While she focuses on the upcoming ceremony, he and Felix took to the renovations of a spare storage room. Xander requested her not to set foot in the nursery the past week for hers and the baby’s safety, fresh coats of paint applied and needing to properly air out. Stepping inside she sees him first, silhouetted by the evening sun streaming in from the wide bay windows, soft cream curtains pulled aside. The golden light wrapping around him a contrast to the gentle periwinkle walls, painting him like a heroic figure from one of those romance novels Emily giggles about. Her heart squeezes a little; he remembered her favorite color, despite her only mentioning it in passing once on a stroll through the garden. Yet what brings tears to her eyes, mouth covered by a shaking hand, is the sight of the furniture in the room.

They hadn’t yet picked any out, choosing to wait until the walls and flooring were finished before heading into town to browse and possibly commission some pieces. They discussed it frequently though when they were together, Xander gently massaging whatever part of her ached as they spoke in low tones. What color should the wood be for the crib, how high the changing station should stand, what type of chairs and how many. Xander walked her through her opinions on all of it, and she thought it was simply to have some idea of what to look for when they finally made their way to buy furniture.

Instead, every bit of what she told him had been carefully incorporated in the furniture already in the room. The two chairs with cushioned seats like those in his study, a dark-stained changing station set at perfect height so she wouldn’t be forced to bend down, thick circular rug under her feet to keep back the chill of the winter through the hardwood. But the masterpiece was by far the crib and she can’t resist stepping closer and stroking a hand along the top of it.

Perfectly crafted from birch wood, edges sanded down into gentle curves and sealed so as to prevent splinters. She traces along the curves, admiring the carpentry on the ornate designs, edelweiss and magnolia blossoms lining the headboard, amaryllis and sunflowers at the baseboard. No awkward edges, every piece seamlessly connected, as though simply carved as a single piece from a birch log. Hanging from it is a small wooden mobile, charms of various animals dangling below, gently spinning when she rotates it with her hand.

“I-“ She turns to look at Xander, finding him standing beside her, rubbing at his fingers.

“This is beautiful. All of it. Where did you-“ She cuts herself off, connecting the dots.

Birch wood, his main export from the lumberyards.

The questions about every possible detail, as though he were trying to pluck her idea and bring it to life.

The late nights in the shed, machinery whirring, creating all the artistry on display before her now.

“You cradle them for so long. I thought I should do the same.” He’s bashful, scratching at his neck and nipping his lip, ears aflame even in the evening glow. Saying it so simply, as though he hadn’t poured hours of time and years of experience into this. As though he hadn’t spent what little free time he had between the suit fittings and wedding invitations and still running a barony working his hands through splinters and cramping to ensure it was finished well before the baby was due. It's worth it though, for how she stares up at him, teary eyed and grateful, sniffling as she thanks him.

It's when he hunches over that she catches sight of something set atop the table. She steps around him, reaching down to poke at the little figures and almost immediately bursts into tears again. There, carefully set on a round crochet cloth, were the wooden figures of three animals. A stag with mighty antlers gently pressing his nose to a doe, with a little spotted fawn curled up beside her, a replica of their little family made by Xander’s own hands. She picks up the fawn, thumb sliding over the smooth wood, the little white spots a stark contrast to the rich brown of the wood.

“Do you like it?” He asks her, hovering once more. He worried over whether it was too much, too presumptuous of him to make them, crossing an unspoken boundary like when he implored she call him by his first name.

She gently sets the fawn down, turning to him and swiftly tugging his head down. He lets out a small noise when their lips connect before he gently cradles the side of her face, stepping as closely as her bump will allow. Her own hands settle on his chest, the rabbit-fast beating of his heart echoing in her own. All things considered, it’s a chaste kiss, no more than a few seconds, yet when she pulls back she’s slightly dazed, lips tingling and eyes opening despite her not recalling closing them. It takes a moment for her to realize what she’s done but it sets her nerves alight when it clicks.

“I’m so sorry Xander, I just-this was all so sweet and I wasn’t-“ She’s cut off when he gently runs a thumb over her bottom lip, tilting her head up from where she’d ducked down in embarrassment. There’s a simmering sensation in her stomach when she stares into his eyes, half lidded and pupils wider, the usual icy blue darkened as though melting under the heat. She can’t help but look at his mouth, think of how it felt against her own.

“You worry too much.” He tells her, settling his free hand on her hip.

“May I kiss you again?” He’s leaning in again, eyes on her mouth, wanting to see how red he can paint it with his own.

“Please” She whispers against his mouth.

So he does.

Over, and over, and over.

[beep-beep-imma-sheep]

I decided to read Anne Frank's Diary... What an interesting experience considering Venezuela's current events.

—

Our lives were not without anxiety, since our relatives in Germany were suffering under Hitler's anti-Jewish laws. After the pogroms in 1938 my two uncles (my mother's brothers) fled Germany, finding safe refuge in North America. My elderly grandmother came to live with us. She was seventy-three years old at the time.

This anxiety feels similar to... Pretty much what anyone who fled their home country would feel.

After May 1940 the good times were few and far between:

28th of July, anyone?

first there was the war, then the capitulation and then the arrival of the Germans, which is when the trouble started for the Jews. Our freedom was severely restricted by a series of anti-Jewish decrees:

Out freedom was severely restricted... Yeah. That speaks for itself.

Jews were required to wear a yellow star; Jews were required to turn in their bicycles; Jews were forbidden to use street-cars; Jews were forbidden to ride in cars, even their own; Jews were required to do their shopping between 3 and 5 P.M.; Jews were required to frequent only Jewish-owned barbershops and beauty parlors; Jews were forbidden to be out on the streets between 8 P.M. and 6 A.M.;

This is not the same, of course, but this also reminds me of how, even if there's no official curfew, no one dares to go outside after certain hour. I remember one of these nights my aunt woke up around 2 am and saw the military through the window roaming around were I live, probably looking for someone to arrest.

Jews were forbidden to attend theaters, movies or any other forms of entertainment; Jews were forbidden to use swimming pools, tennis courts, hockey fields or any other athletic fields; Jews were forbidden to go rowing; Jews were forbidden to take part in any athletic activity in public; Jews were forbidden to sit in their gardens or those of their friends after 8 P.M.; Jews were forbidden to visit Christians in their homes; Jews were required to attend Jewish schools,etc.

... Well, we haven't reached that point. But no one SHOULD get to that point-.

You couldn't do this and you couldn't do that, but life went on.

That sounds very 🇻🇪 to me.

Jacque always said to me, "I don't dare do anything anymore, 'cause I'm afraid it's not allowed".

Again, that feeling looks... Very familiar.

It seems like years since Sunday morning. So much has happened it's as if the whole world had suddenly turned upside down.

🇻🇪28th of July🇻🇪

It's more like being on vacation in some strange pension. Kind of an odd way to look at life in hiding, but that's how things are.

Coping mechanisms be like.

Whatever we do, we're very afraid the neighbors might hear or see us.

GIRL, SAME. There's Chavistas in my neighborhood, I'm s c a r e d that they'd end up ratting us out on being from the opposition so the police can put us under arrest.

Though the people who work there are not on the premises after hours, any sound we make might travel through the walls.

I know that fear.

We've forbidden Margot to cough at night, even though she has a bad cold, and are giving her large doses of codeine.

...

Of course, we can't ever look out the window or go outside. And we have to be quiet so the people downstairs can't hear us. (...) Not being able to go outside upsets me more than I can say, and I'm terrified our hiding place will be discovered and that we'll be shot. That, of course, is a fairly dismal prospect.

From July 28th to August 1st I didn't even dare to look out the window. And the fear of being shot is something I carry with me since I was a kid.

And sometimes they talk about Moortje and I can't take that at all. Moortje is my weak spot. I miss her every minute of the day, and no one knows how often I think of her; whenever I do, my eyes fill with tears. Moortje is so sweet, and I love her so much that I keep dreaming she'll come back to us.

Unrelated to the topic, but back in the last days of May my dog passed away (yes, I had the worst pride month). I resonated with this scared 13 y/o girl who had to leave everything behind, even her beloved pet.

Yesterday I had a horrible fright. At eight o'clock the doorbell suddenly rang. All I could think of was that someone was coming to get us, you know who I mean. But I calmed down when everybody swore it must have been either pranksters or the mailman.

Sometimes I remember the fact that a guard could just... Break into my house and take me or someone I love away. And that's terrifying.

[thislovintime]

Photo 2 by Anne Thorkelson; photo 3 courtesy of Written In Our Hearts on Facebook.

"My little sister doesn’t even think of me as her brother any more — she thinks of me as a TV star.” - Peter Tork, TV Guide, 1967

“I read in one magazine that Peter thinks I don’t think of him as my brother any more, I think of him as a star. Well it’s true I think of him as a star, but I do think of I’m as a brother too and a very nice one. Peter is the kind of person I’m sure every one who likes excitement would like to live with. He likes to play guitar a lot and will do most of the things you want him to. If you want to get him a gift, Peter likes good books, and groovy shirts like the one on the cover of ‘Last Train to Clarksville’ single. Peter is good at imitations like W. C. Fields. […] He can do Donald Duck too.” - Anne Thorkelson, 16 Spec, Summer 1967

“Peter ran away from home twice. This happened when he was three years old and lived in Detroit. The first time, he ran away from home to get out of going to nursery school; the second time, he ran away to go to New York. He didn’t make it that trip, but he finally did many years later. [...] Peter’s very first ambition was to dismantle our phonograph, and unhappily he did with great speed and great thoroughness. Peter’s first job was as a paper boy. None of us, including Peter, remember how much he made. He was always liberal when it came to money — and he still is. Peter loved to start clubs when he was growing up. He founded the Wild Goose Club in Madison and the Tiger Club in Mansfield Center. In the Tiger Club, all the members had code names Peter’s was ‘Phantom Tiger’ (P. T. — get it?).” - Nick Thorkelson, The Monkees: Here We Are (1967)

“Peter likes people around him. His old house had been too small to accommodate his many friends and acquaintances, so he had decided to buy a bigger one. The new house is almost too beautiful to describe, but I’ll try. Peter’s home sits on the side of a mountain, facing the valley, and on a clear day you can see all of Los Angeles from his terrace. It’s a truly breathtaking view. The shrubbery surrounding the grounds and the pool is a sort of desert brush, and there are orange and lemon trees growing on the side of ‘his’ mountain! The inside of the house is something else again. There are a total of 14 rooms, seven bathrooms including a sauna bath — and there are five fireplaces! Peter had one room made soundproof for those loud jam sessions musicians are known to have! During our two-weeks visit with Peter (which, by the way, was our first trip to California), we had a wonderful time. There was never a dull moment. We had barbecues on the patio, pool parties, and we went just about everywhere! Peter took us to Disneyland for an entire day, to the famed Coconut Grove nightclub, to Whiskey A Go Go, and we even went dancing at the Factory — a private club where all the stars hang out! But, of course, the nicest part of the whole trip was being able to spend so much time with Peter. The days seemed to just whiz by, and pretty soon it was time for us to leave California and go home. The last thing I remember was Peter shouting, ‘See you all soon!’ — as we boarded the plane that would take us back to Connecticut. After a few weeks, everything returned to normal. Then, late one August night — the eve of my 16th birthday, to be exact — my sister Anne heard a noise in the driveway. She went to the window and saw a strange car pull up. Before she had time to wonder who it was, out popped Peter! What a surprise — and what a birthday present! Peter was so exhausted after his trip from California that he fell asleep on our living room couch — moments after he entered the house! The next morning at breakfast, Peter was the first to wish me a happy birthday. Then he told me that his gift for me — a bright red MG-TF sports car — would be arriving in a few days! That nearly knocked me for a loop, and I couldn’t believe my ears! In Connecticut, we are allowed to drive at 16 years of age — and needless to say, that car was the greatest birthday gift I ever received! But Peter had a couple of additional surprises in store for us. He was wearing a beautiful silk shirt which he had especially made in Hollywood. And since my brother Nicky and I admired it so much — he reached into his suitcase and gave us each one! Anne was right there with her handy camera to take pictures of ‘The Three Musketeers’!” - Christopher Thorkelson, 16 Spec, Summer 1969

[drippingmoon]

Word Find Tag Game

Thanks a lot for the tag, @gh0stlywriting!<3 I took a look at the words and started smiling, because they give me many tender feelings in my wip, so thanks for that

Glass:

   “You knew those angels?”

   Anne clasped her hands behind her, and smiled a bitter smile. “Yes.”

   It wasn’t as if he’d never known. Detached as she spoke, he’d viewed those specters as if from out of his window, close but still separated by glass. He looked at her with sunken eyes, and a tongue like lead as he said, “I’m sorry.”

Smoke:

Light. So much light.

   Too much light.

   His pupils had turned white and orange from all that fire. Brazier by brazier, fires popped up throughout the entirety of Blackfoam. Conflagrations that roared in thunderous fury, drowning him in their cries. Clouds of smoke, grey seas flowing on currents headed for Heaven.

Scar:

   “Aren’t you a little too beautiful?” She laughed out loud, joy pouring from her heart. She touched her palm to one of them, but instantly retracted it with a hiss. On the surface of her hand, a small burn scarred her light.

   Stars rumbled, and her heart grew mellow. Hurriedly, she waved a hand at them. “No, no, that was my fault. I was careless, I didn’t think. It won’t happen again.”

Casual: my only casual in draft 1 is swamped in spoilers, I can't even redact here and there to solve that

Tagging whenever and if you want: @dontjudgemeimawriter, @stuffaboutwriting, @talesofsorrowandofruin and @pepperdee to find white, black, grey and blue. Otherwise, it really is an open tag haha

[darthstitch]

Down in the Underground

Kids were creepy sometimes.

Sarah likes kids just fine, which is why she works at a nursery. It helps pay for her additional schooling and the rest of the bills. She knows perfectly well that one must answer the imaginary telephone, drink the pretend tea, exclaim at the deliciousness of the flower and rock salad and, of course, praise the drawings as masterpieces of art.

But sometimes, kids said and did the darndest and the creepiest things. Like the time her baby brother Toby, at 2 years old, talked about the "pitty lady" visiting him at night.

The "pitty lady" was Grandma Amelia, who died just two months before Toby was born. They'd figured it out when he kept reaching for a picture of their grandmother in her younger years.

There was also the time her cousin Anne's little girl once said, "I don't like this house, Mummy. I got sick here when I was an old lady and nobody came to help me."

Her cousins later learned that the house they were planning to buy used to belong to an old woman who died alone, as she'd been estranged from her family. Needless to say, Anne and her husband looked for a different house.

And there was Daniel, her next door neighbor Lyta's baby, who Sarah and her flatmate watched over sometimes when the usual babysitter wasn't available. Daniel was the sweetest little man, sunny-tempered and generally well-behaved, who had just discovered the wonders of crawling. Crawling, not walking, although Sarah figures with those strong little legs of his, it was definitely going to be a thing in the very near future.

So Sarah puts the kid down in his crib, for his nap, right? And her flatmate insists that they bring the crib out to the living room, just to make sure they always have an eye on him. No big deal - a healthy dose of paranoia where little kids were concerned didn't hurt anyone.

And without fail, once he's awake, she finds sand all over the crib and in his pockets. His mum complains about the exact same thing. She's pretty sure the kid's clean when she puts him down for his nap. But yeah. Sand. Go figure.

Her flatmate is no help at all. The first time this happened, Calliope just stared down at Daniel, who gazed back up at her with big innocent eyes and then, she muttered something in exasperation that sounded like "Ohneeross!" and then she laughed.

And then, Calliope tells her not to worry about the sand. They'll just sweep it away.

Now, it's this drawing by little Holly Wheeler. She's another sweet kid and usually did everything in bright pinks and purples. Her drawings are usually a riotous explosion of rainbow colors, which is typical for a little girl like her. And now, right in the middle of the pinks, magentas, yellows and purples, is a tall pale figure dressed entirely in black, with black messy hair and pure black eyes ringed with blue, except for where Holly attempted to draw yellow stars in them.

"Holly, who's this?"

"Oh, that's Mister Sandman."

Now, Sarah knows her fairy tales and nursery rhymes and she's very up to date on kids' cartoons. The last time she checked, the Sandman didn't look like Slenderman's Creepy Cousin. "Mister Sandman? He looks a bit scary, doesn't he? Looks a bit like Mister Nightmare to me."

Holly looked completely offended. "He's not scary at all! He makes pretty dreams and he sings with me and he even sent me the monster under my bed so I wouldn't be scared when Mummy turns off the light!" A beat. "His name is Mister Jargogle."

***

"My Lord?"

His Darkness, the King of All Night's Dreaming, was rather engrossed in the crafting of a new dream, so he might be forgiven for sounding a little distracted. "Yes, Lucienne, what is it?"

"There… have been an unusual amount of youthful visitors to the Castle lately."

"Hm."

"Not that I mind seeing little ones around but -- "

"Oh, Lucienne, is there another one of those dragonfish brabbles making nests in the library shelves? I'll have Mervyn put them in Fiddler's Green or… hmm… just a moment -- " A pale hand waved gracefully and a rather short, fuzzy-looking red-orange nightmare with golfball eyes appeared. "This is Snottor. I've been meaning to send him along to help you."

"Wakka wakka!" The Nightmare greeted.

There's a flap of wings as Matthew settles down on Morpheus' shoulder. The raven was rather proud that he'd finally gotten shoulder-perching privileges and made use of it whenever he could. "Hey, is that a Muppet?"

Lucienne shook her head. "I appreciate the addition to my staff, my lord, but the children -- "

"Children are often in and out of the Dreaming, Lucienne. I rather enjoy tending to their dreams; childhood is when much of their imagination and creativity are shaped and formed."

"Wakka wakka!"

"He looks a little bit like Fozzy Bear," said Matthew, flapping down to inspect the new Nightmare a little bit closely. "I always loved the Muppets. Kermit's always gonna be my main frog, y'know?"

"The children," said Lucienne, deciding that now was a good time to polish off her glasses, "all know you by name, my lord. And not through the stories you inspire, but they know you quite well."

"Wakka wakka!"

"Help!" Matthew cawed. "It's gonna eat me!"

***

Sarah might have forgotten all about Holly's grimdark Mister Sandman, chalking it up to a little girl's overactive imagination.

But here he was again, in another child's drawing.

This time, it was little Gregory Martens, who was in her afternoon class. He was a thin, quiet, withdrawn little boy, who usually shrank back from the rough-housing of the other children, preferring to draw or read quietly in a corner of the room. His mother had told Sarah that Gregory was especially close to his father, though he didn't see the man often, as he was in the military.

"This is Mister Sandman," Gregory explains. "I have bad dreams, sometimes. Usually about my Da." He sniffs. "I don't want him to come home in a box, like the way Mandy's mumma did last year."

"Does he make the bad dreams go away, Gregory?" Sarah asks him. Her heart hurts when he mentions "the box" and she pats his shoulder comfortingly.

Another sniff. Sarah hands him a tissue and helps him blow his nose. "Mister Sandman says that sometimes you just have to face the bad stuff in your dreams. I guess that means I gotta be brave, like my Da. Sometimes, Mister Sandman just walks me away from the box and just tells me stories."

"What stories?"

"I don't remember all of it when I wake up. But I think I will, one day."

***

Hob Gadling doesn't mind the damage to his clothes. He's watching his son, Robyn, finally making that important milestone from crawling to walking. The baby is clearly trying to stand up on his own, pushing up against the floor with chubby fists.

Finally, he makes it to a full standing position and Hob kneels, boisterously encouraging his boy onwards. Every detail of Robyn's face is so clear, the bright blue eyes that he'd inherited from his mother, the flaxen hair, the rosy, chubby cheeks. The little one takes one step and then another and then another, until he comes right to his father's arms. Hob sweeps him up bellowing with joy and the baby shrieks happily with him.

It is much, much later that Eleanor indulgently plucks the baby from his father's arms, because it's time for his nap and Robyn will be ill-tempered without it. Hob steps back and knows, without having to look, that Dream is there, right beside him.

"Thank you, love," Hob tells him, his voice thick. "I'd near forgotten what my boy looked like."

"It is the child's birthday today, is it not?" Dream draws him close and they take a moment just to breathe in each other's scent, before they sink into each other's embrace.

Hob's face is wet with tears when he wakes up but Dream is still there in his arms, waiting for him. There are whispered words of love and a sharing of memories and the deepest grief. There are clasped hands and kisses exchanged.

In the end, there is warmth, comfort and consolation.

***

Sarah sees the drawing of "Mister Sandman" again in another child's drawing, from the primary school classes, which were just next door to the nursery. He's in a few more drawings, as well, from different children, but the depiction is eerily the same - the tall slender figure always in black, amidst a riot of colors.

It was, she suddenly realizes, an honest-to-God meme among the nursery and primary school set. It was a freakin' creepypasta come to life.

Of course she takes pictures. Of course she asks the kids about the drawings, when she can. A dream of being a lady knight, riding to adventure on a dragon. A dream about the monsters in the closet or under the bed, or for one child, the monster who kept him company in his cupboard bedroom under the stairs. That one led to social services swooping in and taking the poor little boy away to finally live with his doting godparents, instead of the aunt who had so cruelly neglected him.

And then, she reads this story by her classmate and neighbor, Rose Walker, who'd gotten published in the university's literary journal. It's accompanied by an illustration, the artist signing his name as Will Byers.

"The King of All Night's Dreaming" was the title. A tall, elegant, pale figure in black and gold, jewelry sparkling in his hair, flashes of diamond and silver, with stars in his eyes, surrounded with colors.

***

The Guardians of the Castle Gate had loved the first child who was conceived and born in the Dreaming.

Their Lord had once walked out, seeking his son, only to find him held carefully, gently, in his Griffin's mouth. Orpheus was giggling, bright little sounds that warmed his heart. He had his father's eyes.

"The little lord wanted to play, sire," the Wyvern told him, a little abashed.

Morpheus was nonplussed but his little one was content and happy, and so he left them to it. Later, he knew that the little boy would come sit at his feet, happy to watch his father create dreams and nightmares. They would sing together, sing a song of shaping, and their delight would always draw in Morpheus' little sister to join them.

***

Rose Walker laughs when Sarah tells her about the "Mister Sandman meme" and points out the resemblance to the picture in Rose's story.

"Oh my god, I'm never gonna let him live this down."

"What."

"Okay, so, uhm, my friend Will just decided to draw someone we both knew as the Dream King in my story. It's kind of a joke. And well, I guess he really is magic with kids. Daniel just loves him."

"This guy," Sarah tapping gently at the ethereal figure in the picture, "is based on a real person?!"

"Yeah. He's very much real. Also he's not Slenderman. I think he'd be offended at the very idea." Rose paused for a beat. "Or maybe not. I really have to ask him about the nightmare thing."

"You're not making any sense here, friend and I'm still, quite frankly, creeped the hell out."

"Look, Sarah," Rose said, taking her arm. "I think you better come with me to my next class. You got the next couple of hours free, right?"

"Well, yeah, Richmond called off his classes today."

"Okay, come on."

Sarah realizes that Rose is leading her to Calliope's literature class. She hasn't had a chance to sign up for her flatmate's classes yet, though she's heard good things about it. She plans to do that next semester.

Calliope smiles at her in recognition when they take their seats. She's a great lecturer, animated and engaging the class in discussion. And then, she tells them that she's invited a guest to read some of Shakespeare's poetry for them, dark eyes impish with mischief.

And then, "Mister Sandman" glides in.

All right. So he's not Slenderman's Creepy Cousin. He's… okay, oh god, oh wow…. so Sarah feels the flush creeping up her neck and Rose rolls her eyes at her. What? She can't help it if the man is ridiculously beautiful, rocking out the Gothic vibe in the long black coat and the black boots.

He greets Calliope with a courtly kiss to her hand. "I hope you realize what you've done. He'll be terribly upset with me."

"Oh, I'm sure he will be, Oneiros," Calliope purrs. "I am also sure you'll enjoy every moment of making it up to him."

Some of the class, who were apparently in on the joke, titters.

"GO GET YOUR MAN, MURPHY!" Someone hollers.

There is a suspicious flush on those exquisite cheekbones but he simply shakes his head and then, does a little wave, when he notices Rose.

"You're hopeless, Uncle Dream," Rose calls out.

"Uncle Dream?!"

Rose nodded. "Yep, that's my Uncle Dream, who's a dork sharing his one braincell with my history professor. Now shush."

Rose's Uncle Dream takes the book of Shakespeare's sonnets from Calliope and reads.

"Reads" was an inadequate word for it. To be honest, Sarah's not sure if there was a word for how Dream's voice sounded, deep and rich and lulling, making her almost see the images evoked by every line. The class is spellbound for what seems to be an eternity, before he finally closes the book on the last line. There's a very audible sigh from everyone and it isn't long before they all applaud.

"Careful, Oneiros," Calliope teases him. "Or you might be snatched up for the theatre or teaching a class of your own very soon."

"In which case, I shall rely on my own dearest knight to save me from the ordeal," he responds, smiling gently at her. "Once I've apologized to him properly for the blasphemy of Shakespeare."

"I am sure he will, once you explain that he was very much in your thoughts whilst you read every line of that sonnet. You are besotted, Oneiros. And utterly ridiculous."

Once again, he kisses her hand in the same charming, courtly manner. "But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, all losses are restored and sorrows end."

"Oh, you're impossible!" She laughs at him as he takes his leave, sweeping out as dramatically as he walked in.

Sarah shrinks in her seat. Well. That happened.

***

There's another little boy making his way to the Dreaming.

Daniel Hall greets the wyvern, the griffin and the hippogriff with a happy crow and he's allowed to ride on the griffin's back, pudgy fists holding on to his mane. They spend quite some time playing until their attention is caught by a polite cough.

Dream of the Endless is watching them. An eyebrow is raised.

"The little lord wanted to play, sire," the Wyvern tells him once more in a helpful tone.

The Guardians are quite confused when Dream suddenly snatches Daniel up for a hug, nor did they understand the tears in his eyes, or

the sudden darkening of the skies in the Dreaming, threatening rain. Daniel only knows that he ought to hug Dream back, which he did, something that his own Mummy did when he was feeling sad.

He pats at Dream's cheek, making a clumsy attempt to wipe away his tears but Dream manages a soft, watery smile. "Shall we go and create a new dream today, little Daniel?"

Daniel nods happily.

-end-

Footnote the First: Sarah Williams was eventually introduced to the Hellfire Club and took to the whole D&D thing like a duck to water. She was also responsible for the sudden improvement in everyone's costumes and props. She did, eventually, find out who and what Dream really was, but that was only after her baby brother was snatched away by the Goblin King and she had to go through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered to take him back.

Footnote the Second: Matthew would like it to be known that Nightmares, even the ones that greatly resemble Muppets, are not allowed to eat His Majesty's Ravens. He appreciates Dream enforcing this rule and quite forgave him when all the Muppet Nightmares joined together to sing Bohemian Rhapsody as their idea of an apology.

Footnote the Third: Hob Gadling made sure to send Calliope a lovely bouquet of flowers, as a token of appreciation, once he'd heard about the "Shakespeare Incident" in her classroom. Dream had been very creative in the whole process of "making it up" to him, which was probably why it rained red roses, lavender and peonies in the Dreaming for the next two weeks. Hob could not be held responsible for the happy daze he spent the next day in. Twitterpated was probably the best word here and it was also an excellent word to describe the Dream Lord when he went about his duties afterwards. At least Lucienne now had a faithful assistant helping her clean up the flowers in the library, although he rather liked nibbling on the peonies. At least, he wasn't trying to eat Matthew anymore.

[that-gay-jedi]

hi friend!! for the wip ask meme, i am so curious about the "+ dreams" in the more devils 10 11 file lol (i am absolutely loving more devils than shoulders !!)

also... disaster daughters au ??!??

tell me all about it !!! <3

Hey. Hey guess what I should be working on right now instead of inhabiting tumblr. Take a guess. 😉

I'm sooo glad you're enjoying More Devils! The reception that fic has gotten so far since posting has made coming back to writing again after taking a decade-long hiatus Because Reasons(tm) into an even more healing and fulfilling experience than it already is. The appreciation from readers like yourself has helped me get this very important part of my life back.

Shortly before returning to writing I read a writing book which helped me develop the attitude that any words on the page, even ones that will be deleted later or that are embarrassingly bad, are better than no words on the page.

As a result of that book, my actual creative process has been markedly different than it was back in the day, and my longer works now often manifest as consecutive vignettes that get strung together into chronological order to make something coherent (or so one hopes it is). I mostly keep one chapter at a time in my WIP folder and move each one into an archive file upon completing and/or posting it.

A by-product of this is that sometimes I will sit down to write what I know will happen next, but instead what flows faster and more naturally in that moment is a scene that will happen later on, and I allow those to collect on the end of whichever chapter is currently being made and keep them in the bottom of the WIP document until the point where they're integrated into the story comes (this lil primordial abyss is also where outtakes from the chapters in progress go if I want to be able to access them faster than my scraps folder).

From some quirk of the structure of More Devils Than Shoulders and the way in which I outlined it, a lot of the plot-significant dreams and visions experienced by the characters have been coming to me early and forming a sort of traffic jam at the end of the document, to the point that I felt the need to amend to title so I'd remember to look for them during the relevant chapters.

I've spoken before about my love of stories about dreams, and how especially freeing Star Wars fanfic has been as an outlet for this. More Devils in particular has them as a driving force for many of the waking events and as an anchor for many of the canon-divergent happenings, being one of the first things I decided would happen in it.

For the curious, events that got me writing again went like this:

Tale Foundry video which recommended Bird By Bird by Anne Lamott to writers -> read Bird By Bird -> watched Star Wars and Anakin became my blorbo -> started visiting the Anakin Skywalker tag on AO3 -> read Equinox by lilyconrad which single-handedly turned me into a obikin shipper -> joined tumblr and AO3 while cramming more Star Wars media as research-> began to write again

The disaster daughters au is answered here :)

[kcrabb88]

Queer Movies/Books/TV Shows for Pride Month!

Happy Pride everyone!! For your viewing/reading pleasure I have made a (non-exhaustive) list of queer media that I have enjoyed! 

Movies/Documentaries

Pride (2014): An old tried and true favorite, which meets at the intersection of queer and workers’ rights. A group of queer activists support the 1985 miners’ strike in Wales (complete with a sing-through of Bread and Roses + Power in a Union)

Portrait of a Lady on Fire: On an isolated island in Brittany at the end of the eighteenth century, a female painter is obliged to paint a wedding portrait of a young woman (or, two young lesbians fall in love by the sea, and you cry)

God’s Own Country: Young farmer Johnny Saxby numbs his daily frustrations with binge drinking and casual sex, until the arrival of a Romanian migrant worker for lambing season ignites an intense relationship that sets Johnny on a new path (Seriously this movie is GREAT and doesn’t get enough love, watch it! It’s rough but ends happily)

The Half of It:  When smart but cash-strapped teen Ellie Chu agrees to write a love letter for a jock, she doesn't expect to become his friend - or fall for his crush (as in she falls for his crush who is another girl. This movie was so good, and really friendship focused!) 

Saving Face:  A Chinese-American lesbian and her traditionalist mother are reluctant to go public with secret loves that clash against cultural expectations (this is an oldie and a goodie, with a happy ending!)

Moonlight:  A young African-American man grapples with his identity and sexuality while experiencing the everyday struggles of childhood, adolescence, and burgeoning adulthood (featuring gay men of color!)

Carol:  An aspiring photographer develops an intimate relationship with an older woman in 1950s New York (everyone’s seen this I think, but I couldn’t not have it here)

Milk: The story of Harvey Milk and his struggles as an American gay activist who fought for gay rights and became California's first openly gay elected official (the speech at the end of this made me cry. Warning, of course, for death, if you don’t know about Harvey Milk)

Pride (Hulu Documentary):  A six-part documentary series chronicling the fight for LGBTQ civil rights in America (they go by decade from the 50s-2000s, and there is a lot of great trans inclusion in this)

Paris is Burning (Documentary): A 1990s documentary about the African American and Latinx ballroom scene. Available on Youtube!

A New York Christmas Wedding:  As her Christmas Eve wedding draws near, Jennifer is visited by an angel and shown what could have been if she hadn't denied her true feelings for her childhood best friend (this movie is SO CUTE. It’s really only nominally a Christmas movie and easily watched anytime. Features an interracial sapphic couple!) 

TV Shows 

Love, Victor: Victor is a new student at Creekwood High School on his own journey of self-discovery, facing challenges at home, adjusting to a new city, and struggling with his sexual orientation (this is a spin-off of Love, Simon, and it’s very sweet and well done! Featuring a young gay man of color)

Sex Education:  A teenage boy with a sex therapist mother teams up with a high school classmate to set up an underground sex therapy clinic at school (this has multiple queer characters, including a featured young Black gay man and also in season 2 there is a side ace character!) 

Black Sails: I mean, do I even need to put a summary here? If you follow me you know that Black Sails is full of queer pirates, just queers everywhere.

Gentleman Jack:  A dramatization of the life of LGBTQ+ trailblazer, voracious learner and cryptic diarist Anne Lister, who returns to Halifax, West Yorkshire in 1832, determined to transform the fate of her faded ancestral home Shibden Hall (Period drama lesbians!!! A title sequence  that will make you gay just by watching!) 

Tales of the City (2019):  A middle-aged Mary Ann returns to San Francisco and reunites with the eccentric friends she left behind. "Tales of the City" focuses primarily on the people who live in a boardinghouse turned apartment complex owned by Anna Madrigal at 28 Barbary Lane, all of whom quickly become part of what Maupin coined a "logical family". It's no longer a secret that Mrs. Madrigal is transgender. Instead, she is haunted by something from her past that has long been too painful to share (this is based on a book series and it’s got lots of great inter-generational queer relationships!) 

The Haunting of Bly Manor:  After an au pair’s tragic death, Henry hires a young American nanny to care for his orphaned niece and nephew who reside at Bly Manor with the chef Owen, groundskeeper Jamie and housekeeper, Mrs. Grose (sweet, tender, wonderful lesbians. A bittersweet ending but this show is so so wonderful)

Sense8: A group of people around the world are suddenly linked mentally, and must find a way to survive being hunted by those who see them as a threat to the world's order (queers just EVERYWHERE in this show, of all kinds)

Books

Loveless by Alice Oseman:  Georgia has never been in love, never kissed anyone, never even had a crush – but as a fanfic-obsessed romantic she’s sure she’ll find her person one day. This wise, warm and witty story of identity and self-acceptance sees Alice Oseman on towering form as Georgia and her friends discover that true love isn’t limited to romance (don’t be turned off by this title, it’s tongue-in-cheek. This is a book about an aroace college girl discovering herself and centers the importance and power of platonic relationships! I have it on my TBR and have heard great things)

Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters: Reese almost had it all: a loving relationship with Amy, an apartment in New York City, a job she didn't hate. She had scraped together what previous generations of trans women could only dream of: a life of mundane, bourgeois comforts. The only thing missing was a child. But then her girlfriend, Amy, detransitioned and became Ames, and everything fell apart. Now Reese is caught in a self-destructive pattern: avoiding her loneliness by sleeping with married men.Ames isn't happy either. He thought detransitioning to live as a man would make life easier, but that decision cost him his relationship with Reese—and losing her meant losing his only family. Even though their romance is over, he longs to find a way back to her. When Ames's boss and lover, Katrina, reveals that she's pregnant with his baby—and that she's not sure whether she wants to keep it—Ames wonders if this is the chance he's been waiting for. Could the three of them form some kind of unconventional family—and raise the baby together?This provocative debut is about what happens at the emotional, messy, vulnerable corners of womanhood that platitudes and good intentions can't reach. Torrey Peters brilliantly and fearlessly navigates the most dangerous taboos around gender, sex, and relationships, gifting us a thrillingly original, witty, and deeply moving novel (again, don���t be thrown off by the title, it too, is tongue-in-cheek. This book was GREAT, and written by a trans women with a queer-and especially trans--audience in mind)

A Tip for the Hangman by Allison Epstein: A gay Christopher Marlowe, at Cambridge and trying to become England’s best new playwright, finds himself wrapped up in royal espionage schemes while also falling in love (this book is by a Twitter friend of mine, and it is a wonderful historical thriller with a gay man at the center).

Creatures of Will and Temper by Molly Tanzer: a very very queer remix of The Picture of Dorian Gray (which was already quite queer), featuring amazing female characters, a gay Basil, and a much happier ending than the original. 

Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston: The gay prince of England and the bisexual, biracial first son of the president fall in love (think an AU of 2016 where a woman becomes president). Featuring a fantastic discovery of bisexuality, ruminations on grief, and just a truly astonishing book. One of my favorites!

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston:  For cynical twenty-three-year-old August, moving to New York City is supposed to prove her right: that things like magic and cinematic love stories don’t exist, and the only smart way to go through life is alone. She can’t imagine how waiting tables at a 24-hour pancake diner and moving in with too many weird roommates could possibly change that. And there’s certainly no chance of her subway commute being anything more than a daily trudge through boredom and electrical failures. But then, there’s this gorgeous girl on the train (This is Casey McQuiston’s brand new novel featuring time-travel, queer women, and I absolutely cannot WAIT to read it)

The Heiress by Molly Greely: Set in the Pride and Prejudice universe, this takes on Anne de Bourg (Lady Catherine’s daughter), and makes her queer! 

Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters:  Nan King, an oyster girl, is captivated by the music hall phenomenon Kitty Butler, a male impersonator extraordinaire treading the boards in Canterbury. Through a friend at the box office, Nan manages to visit all her shows and finally meet her heroine. Soon after, she becomes Kitty's dresser and the two head for the bright lights of Leicester Square where they begin a glittering career as music-hall stars in an all-singing and dancing double act. At the same time, behind closed doors, they admit their attraction to each other and their affair begins (Sarah Waters is the queen of historical lesbians. All of her books are good, and they’re all gay! The Paying Guests is another great one)

(On a side note re: queer books, there are MANY, these are just ones I’ve read more recently. Also there are a lot of indie/self-published writers doing great work writing queer books, so definitely support your local indie authors!) 

[gretchensinister]

9 people I want to get to know better:

Tagged by @plush-anon and I am so glad for the procrastination opportunity 

favourite colour: Purple! Anyway here’s something I may be misremembering from childhood. There was this VHS I had called Wee Sing In Sillyville and it was basically children’s songs connected with a loose plot about a land of colors (people wearing all of one color outfits, red, green, yellow, etc.) except that they didn’t get along with or talk to each other anymore and the character the story followed was trying to get them to get along again, I think? And most of the colors were big groups of people, but the Purple Lady was one old lady in an all-purple outfit and she was the only one who agreed with the main character that the colors should get along and work together again and I was like ‘wow wise old purple lady.’ (Also in this the main character was colorful at the beginning and then SOMETHING happened and all the colors in her outfit went away and IDK if the story said it but I KNEW she was DYING. And then all the color groups were like ‘oh no what do we do we liked her when she visited us’ and purple lady was like ‘you need to work together’ and they gave her colors back by tying pieces from their own outfits to main character’s outfit and then she came back to life and was colorful again. And the colors started talking to each other again. I think! I cannot emphasize enough that this was a preschool/kindergarten-aimed story/song collection of the kind that kids lose interest in quickly outside of that age group, so I don’t remember it that well! EXCEPT at some point as an adult I was hit by the memory of this like a ton of bricks, because I think this was my first example of “unifying the elements is the correct answer/these things should never have been separated in the first place” in a story. Before The Dark Crystal (also importantly purple…hmm [hmmmMMMmmmm—I mean—]) for sure. And then I wrote essentially an epic fantasy novel with that as a huge theme. 

currently reading: 1) Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir—I hadn’t read anything else by him before and I love it? It’s for an SFF book club and I would never have picked it up if not for that because honestly I was making a lot of assumptions about what kind of science fiction by men gets popular and what kind of characters I’d see in such a book. Well, I was wrong. 2) Dragonflight by Anne McCaffrey—Admittedly I’m only at the beginning of this one but there seems to be ‘some people are just better than others because of birth’ baked into the foundation of the story and I’M STRUGGLING. There’s also already been plenty of times when I have asked myself “why would you, a woman, write women like this?” Also epithets all over the place. But then again without the epithets I’m bombarded by apostrophes. (I’m sure in the past 54 years someone has said something like this but this is my OC F’lan, he rides a caramel custard colored dragon and everyone thinks he’s sweet and loves him.) 3) Dawnshard by Brandon Sanderson—I would call it bonus material for The Stormlight Archives. That series BTW is a massive page commitment so like, enter at your own risk? 4) Why Are Faggots So Afraid of Faggots? Flaming Challenges to Masculinity, Objectification, and the Desire to Conform edited by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore—Essays by a wide range of queer people with a wide range of relationships to masculinity, I recommend this to anyone who wants to understand more about the breadth of what queerness encompasses. 

last song: Not sure what song I listened to last, but I currently have Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes stuck very completely in my head, so that’s what I’ll answer with. 

last movie: Annihilation. I love this movie. This time watching it I was drawn to the way the person in the old camp who was taken over by fungus is positioned on the wall in one of those ambiguous martyrdom/ecstasy poses. 

last series: Star Trek: TOS, which I only recently realized was available to borrow from the library. Get a library card and make sure you have something to play discs with, people. The library wants you to have access to as much free stuff as possible. Streaming services DON’T. Piracy is fine for big titles but the process of protecting my computer from viruses and/or removing a virus is something that’s an intimidating problem for me. Placing a library hold on a DVD is easy, legal, and free.   

sweet, spicy or savoury: Savory, though it’s not as if I dislike the others. Speaking of savory things, though, here’s a very simple savory snack which may mark me as some kind of gremlin but anyway: There’s this stuff called Better Than Bouillon, which you can find at the grocery store with the other bouillon/stock/soups, it comes in a little jar and it’s like a bouillon paste, which you’re supposed to use like bouillon cubes. Well, get that, in the roasted vegetable flavor. Then butter a piece of bread really thickly, THEN take just a little Better Than Bouillon and use the butter knife to work it into the butter until it’s like the butter got a noticeable tan. SO savory. Don’t do this if you’re concerned about your salt intake tho. 

coffee or tea: Coffee, for sure. It’s a treat and not an everyday thing for me, caffeine will reliably do things to my energy levels that I don’t want it to. You know, I think it might be the idea of a hot drink as a treat that makes me care less for tea? I can’t make a latte or a mocha at home, but in my area, home, chain coffee shop, independent coffee shop, any level of café or restaurant, any tea you get is going to be just the tea bag plonked in a cup of hot water. That doesn’t feel special! It means I have to decide when to take the tea bag out and then I have to deal with a wet tea bag and I don’t want this (no matter how fancy the tea bag is). I only want to be served tea by someone who knows significantly more about tea than I do. 

And now to tag. I think I’ll tag my nine most recent followers that seem to be real. Who are you all? This blog is not cohesively themed these days. So:

@retrocolaslasher

@scrunkley

@zoeloveconvers99

@stardewfarmboy

@creativemachine

@magicalbloke

@capulet4t

@aferalsquirrel

  @houseofflies

[blackswaneuroparedux]

I feel a sort of reverence in going over these scenes in this most beautiful country, which I am proud to call my own, where there was such devoted loyalty to the family of my ancestors – for Stuart blood is in my veins.

- Queen Victoria on Scotland

For a British monarch, Queen Victoria was extremely quick off the mark in making her first visit to Scotland in 1842, only five years after her coronation as Queen. Hooked on the stories of Sir Walter Scott, Queen Victoria toured the country with Prince Albert, spending several days in the capital at Edinburgh.

Then in September 1844 she returned to Scotland with Prince Albert and her young daughter Vicky at her side. This time she visited Blair Castle in Perthshire. They all enjoyed not only Scottish oatmeal porridge but its spectacular fresh landscapes, especially the Highlands, which captivated them both and inspired a rich new adoption of ideas. Later, they took on Highland life in the fullness of its tastes and traditions, something which was recorded in a wealth of artwork, not least in the Queen’s watercolours.

Victoria and Albert loved Scotland so much they inspired a trend for tartan and tweed across the kingdom. They returned over and over again, and after taking possession of Balmoral in 1848 they actually built a castle of their own.

Queen Victoria was a keen diarist and kept detailed records of her stays in Scotland, writing exhaustively about what happened each day: whether Albert’s hunting trips had been successful, who they dined with, her thoughts on the landscape, Highland pony riding, plans for scenes to sketch, details of the people she met, whether she liked them or not.

One of the most common urband legends of Victoria’s time in Scotland is that she and Albert got lost in the Highlands and sought shelter and hospitality in a poor family’s cottage.

Queen Victoria certainly never mentioned getting lost in the forest alone with Prince Albert on horseback, as depicted in the recent British drama series Victoria.

Queen Victoria never mentioned being forced to seek shelter with a kindly poor couple who cooked delicious trout over an open fire and let them stay the night, and there’s no record of her hiding her identity as Queen and learning to darn a sock like a “normal” person.

Still – you can see where this fanciful storyline came from. What we do see in her journal is that, for her, the wild Scottish Highlands were an escape from reality.

“After the constant trying publicity we are accustomed to, it is so pleasant & refreshing, to be able, amidst such beautiful surrounding, to enjoying such complete privacy & such a simple life,” she wrote in her diary.

And while and Albert avoided getting lost, they did have an idyllic pony ride accompanied by only one servant – as close to privacy as the monarch could really get.

“When I awoke the sun was shining brightly & it lit up the mountains so beautifully,” she wrote. “At 9, we set off, both, on ponies, attended only by Lord Glenlyon’s excellent servant, Sandy McAra, in his Highland dress, to go up one of the hills.

“We went through a ford, Sandy leading my pony, and Albert following closely, and then went up the hill of Tulloch straight over a very steep cabbage field, afterwards going round zigzag to the very top, the ponies scrambling up over stones & heather, & never once making a false step. The view all round was splendid & so beautifully lit up. From the top it was quite like a panorama.

“We could see the Falls of Bruar, the Pass of Killiecrankie, Ben y Gloe, and the whole range of hills behind, in the direction of Tay mouth. The house itself & the houses in the village looked like toys, from the height at which we were. It was very wonderful. We got off once or twice, & walked about. There was not a house or creature near us, only pretty Highland, black faced sheep.”

She added: “It was the most delightful, and most romantic ride and walk, I had ever had.”

Another time they cut it fine on a pony ride, with the Queen suddenly becoming worried about nightfall – “Got alarmed at seeing the sun sinking, for fear of our being benighted, & we called anxiously for Sandy to give a signal to Albert to come back. At length we got on the move, skirting the hill & the ponies went as safely & securely as possible.”

But they made it home just in time: “A long day indeed, but one which I shall not easily forget.”

And as for visiting a couple of unsuspecting-yet-kindly Highlanders at their cottage?

The only mentions of a “cottage” make clear this is no poor man’s house: “We got out at the Cottage, which is pretty & beautifully situated. There are some good Landseers in the room we went into.” With paintings by Sir Edwin Henry Landseer on the walls this is not exactly a poor man’s hut…

As she prepared to leave at the end of September, Victoria reflected on her time in Scotland: “I am so sad at thinking of leaving this charming place, & the quiet, liberty, & the pure air we have enjoyed. The action life we have been leading, peculiar in its way, has been so delightful.”

Having already lost her beloved husband Albert, Victoria found solace in Scotland and its people. John Brown was famously associated with Queen Victoria.

The Queen first mentioned Brown in her Journal on 11 September 1849, and from 1851 John Brown, at Albert's suggestion, took on the role of leading Queen Victoria's pony. In 1858, Brown became the personal ghillie (shooting guide and gun-loader) of Prince Albert.

After Prince Albert died in 1861, Queen Victoria went into deep mourning, becoming almost a recluse. In 1864, her daughter, Princess Alice, noted that the Queen had always been happy at Balmoral, especially when taking a ride in her pony cart. Why couldn't pony cart rides be made available at Windsor and at Osborne (the Queen's home on the Isle of Wight), with the Queen in the care of the man who so effectively led her pony at Balmoral? The Queen agreed and in December 1864 John Brown became a full-time servant. He was, as Queen Victoria put it in her journal, "indefatigable in his attendance and care".

By 1866 gossip about the relationship between the Queen and her extremely informal servant had started. Brown was the only person around Victoria prepared to "tell it like it was", and he often proved abrasive with members of the Royal Household: even, it is said, on at least one occasion giving the Prince of Wales the rough edge of his tongue. Rumours soon spread more widely, and Brown was featured in the satirical magazine Punch on 30 June 1866, and Queen Victoria came to be referred to by some members of her household (behind her back) as "Mrs Brown".

Speculation about Queen Victoria's 20 year relationship with Brown, following the early death of her husband Albert in 1861, started in court circles almost as soon as the unlikely friendship itself did when the queen was in her mid-forties.

Victoria's daughters joked about "Mama's lover", and the then Duke of Edinburgh (the queen's second son) claimed he had been evicted from Buckingham Palace because he refused to shake the servant's hand.

The news of 1866 carried a piece in the Gazette de Lausanne, a Swiss paper, that read, “On dit…that with Brown and by him she consoles herself for Prince Albert, and they go even further. They add that she is in an interesting condition, and that if she was not present for the Volunteers Review, and at the inauguration of the monument to Prince Albert, it was only in order to hide her pregnancy. I hasten to add that the Queen has been morganatically married to her attendant for a long time, which diminishes the gravity of the thing.” Most assuredly, no British paper carried such a tale, but once the word spread of the Queen’s supposed affair, there was no reining it back in.

In the United Kingdom it was Alexander Robertson’s pamphlet “John Brown: A Correspondence with the Lord Chancellor, Regarding a Charge of Fraud and Embezzlement Preferred Against His Grace the Duke of Atholl K. T. of 1873” that first openly suggested that Queen Victoria and John Brown had married morganatically - this being related to, or being a marriage between a member of a royal or noble family and a person of inferior rank in which the rank of the inferior partner remains unchanged and the children of the marriage do not succeed to the titles, fiefs, or entailed property of the parent of higher rank.

Citing one Charles Christie, ‘House Servant to the Dowager Duchess of Athole at Dunkeld House,’ Robertson claimed that John Brown was regularly noted as entering Queen Victoria’s bedroom when the rest of the household was asleep. Robert purported that Victoria married Brown at Lausanne, Switzerland, in 1868, with Duchess Anne standing as witness. The Duchess of Atholl vehemently denied Robertson’s allegations. Robertson went on to make other incendiary allegations without any proof including that Brown and Queen Victoria had a love child which as given up for adoption in Vaux, Switzerland.

Meanwhile, in our more recent times  various newspaper revelations went as far as suggesting that the two had actually married based on newly unocvered letters from Victoria’s courtiers. Indeed a film was even made: "Mrs Brown" became the title of a 1997 film about the relationship, starring Dame Judi Dench as Queen Victoria and Billy Connolly as John Brown.

In 1872 John Brown knocked down a would-be assassin in what was the fifth attempt on Victoria's life. John died at Windsor Castle on 27 March 1883, aged 56, by some accounts because he was too devoted to Victoria. It is suggested that had he taken to his sick bed at the first sign of a chill, he would have survived, but his sense of duty was such that he carried on working until it was too late. He was buried at Crathie.

Were Queen Victoria and John Brown married? Historians are divided over this contentious claim. Those that have believe it have based their views on four pieces of information, none of which is in itself conclusive. But they believe that, when taken together, help swing the balance of probability in favour of a wedding having taken place:

After Victoria's death, two sets of mementos were placed in her coffin, at her request. On one side was placed one of Prince Albert's dressing gowns, while on the other was placed a lock of Brown's hair, along with a picture of him and a ring worn by Brown's mother and given to Victoria by Brown.

The published diary of the Liberal MP, the 1st Viscount Harcourt, for 17 February 1885 related a second-hand story told to his father, the then Home Secretary, by a renowned gossip, that on his deathbed in 1872 the Revd Dr Norman Macleod, the chaplain to Queen Victoria,stated that he had conducted a marriage ceremony between John Brown and Queen Victoria.

The Daily Mail on 2 September 2006 reported a similarly second-hand story in which a late senior member of the Royal Family had said that documents confirming a marriage had many years earlier turned up in the Royal archives at Windsor, and been destroyed.

After Victoria's death (a full 18 years after John Brown's own death), Edward VII tried to destroy everything connected with Brown, including busts and photographs. A life-size statue of Brown at Balmoral, commissioned by Queen Victoria after his death, was only saved by being moved to an obscure part of the estate where Edward was unlikely to find it.

My own view is that it’s a much ado about nothing. Although much of the gossip about John Brown and Queen Victoria was seen as ridiculous steps were taken to suppress information, for instance, when Queen Victoria died her daughter Princess Beatrice removed pages from the queen’s journal ‘that might cause pain” in her own words. People have msiread the intent behind such actions. The Royal family down the ages have always doused more petrol on the fire by simply trying to quell any rumours of impropriety that it invites unfounded wilder speculative tittle tattle.

It is clear, despite public gossip, there was nothing immoral in Queen Victoria’s relationship with John Brown. Queen Victoria would never have contemplated sex with a servant. People forget how rigid social roles really were and how seriously people viewed them in Victoria’s age despite the hypocrisy we have come to see them with.

Furthermore, she was never alone to carry out an affair having court ladies always within shouting distance. That was the whole point of having a royal court and doting ladies in waiting about the place.

The significance of Queen Victoria’s attraction to John Brown was that he - at worst - made a career out of her. He never married, had few holidays and devoted his life to the queen, and he was a walking encyclopedia of her like, dislikes, moods and needs. As a downright selfish person this greatly appealed to the queen. She liked him because she needed to be fussed, cosseted and spoiled. He told her the truth, spoke boldly to her and importantly too; unlike her family and senior courtiers, he was not afraid of her. Above all, when Prince Albert died Queen Victoria needed a male friend — she never really made close friendships with women — and someone to lean on. John Brown supplied all that.

Victoria’s visited Balmoral in her beloved Scottish Highlands in the late autumn of 1900. The Queen could not know it, but it was the last time that she would see the new castle which Prince Albert had erected in her words as his ‘own work… as at Osborne’ and which had become a box of intensely personal memories.

So deeply did the Queen feel her first visit to Balmoral after Prince Albert’s death in May 1862 (in pouring rain) that she wrote with painful dread to her eldest daughter, the Crown Princess of Prussia of the strange reality of everything: ‘Oh! Darling child… the stag’s heads – the rooms – blessed, darling Papa’s room – then his coats – his caps – kilts – all, all convulsed my poor shattered frame!’ (cit., Delia Millar, Queen Victoria’s Life in the Scottish Highlands, 101). Even the Queen’s lonely pursuit of spinning wool, which later became synonymous with her early widowhood, had been a vigorously traditional Highland activity (Ibid, 76). Now her widowhood of waiting was drawing to an end, forty years later, with the Queen’s approaching death.

The Queen’s unknowing leave-taking of Scotland took place gradually, over these last days at Balmoral. Touchingly, she was still referring to ‘tea’ – although by now, it consisted only of arrowroot and milk  – drinking it at her secluded Highland retreat of Alt-na-giubhsaich. Queen Victoria’s last day included luncheon in Prince Albert’s rooms with her youngest daughter, Princess Beatrice and her Battenberg children. She left Balmoral fittingly, with the weather ‘wretchedly gloomy & dark’ whilst with her, she had a wreath to take back to Windsor, to place on the tomb of the Prince Consort at Frogmore; possibly it also contained the Balmoral heather she loved so much. Perhaps there may have been a presentiment, within the sentimental.

The Queen’s trusted doctor, Sir James Reid was with her at Osborne when she died, so presumably, the Queen would have had the comfort of a Scottish voice at her side, in between her lingering states of consciousness.

After her death, the Prince of Wales spoke a moving sentence of gratitude for Reid’s devoted service: ‘You are an honest straightforward Scotchman… I shall never forget all you did for the Queen’ (read Christopher Hibbert, Queen Victoria: A Personal History, pg. 494).

Significantly, the Queen instructed amongst the many sentimental items to be put in her coffin ‘some of which none of her family were to see’, a photograph of her devoted Highland servant, John Brown, which she ordered to be placed in her left and, with a lock of his hair. These were both tactfully hidden inside a silken case, the handiwork of the Queen’s late wardrobe maid Annie MacDonald, wrapped in tissue paper.

Afterwards, the Queen’s left hand was covered with Queen Alexandra’s flowers. Also put into the Queen’s coffin was a simple sprig of Balmoral heather, which Sir James Reid covered with a quilted cushion – made especially to fit the coffin – to preserve the Queen’s privacy in death.

Scotland was at her funeral, in the form of her Highland ghillies, as the Queen’s German grandson, Ernst Ludwig, Grand Duke of Hesse, wrote in his private memoirs: ‘[The moment] when her coffin was lowered in the mausoleum at Frogmore, remains unforgettable to me… I remained a moment there alone. When I looked about me, there were kneeling near me all of her ghillies [Highland servants] from Scotland, all strong, sturdy men, who were weeping there uncontrollably like sons for their mother…’ For her funeral, the Funeral March by Handel was substituted as per the Queen’s instructions, for music by Chopin and Beethoven and importantly, Highland dirges.

The sarcophagus or tomb chest was hewn from a flawless block of grey Aberdeen granite from the quarries at Cairngall in Scotland. Three attempts were made before this one was successfully carved out and it is purportedly the largest of its kind ever to have been hewn for such a use.

It was an appropriate Scotch bed for the Queen’s final sleep. Upon this sarcophagus, the effigies of Prince Albert and Queen Victoria lie still, a more sublime rendering of their marriage bed, staring into the beyond. Touchingly though, the head of Queen Victoria’s effigy is half-turned towards that of Prince Albert, as if it somehow suggesting that he died before she did. As in life, she is leaning, straining after the beloved husband that she mourned for half of her life.

The fact that their sarcophagus was quarried in Scotland is an appropriate choice for a royal couple who loved that country so much, becoming a little more Scotch with every visit. Appropriately for the Queen, parts of Eastern Central Scotland still celebrate Victoria Day, the last Monday before or on 24 May, Queen Victoria’s birthday.

Scotland was indeed with them, in the end. And continues to be with the House of Windsor.

[mercuryonparklane]

I seriously debated keeping this one in the drafts...

Okay, I felt compelled to analyze the timeline of all of Taylor’s rumored/alleged boyfriends (barring any that she supposedly dated pre-fame) and why I believe they could have been fake/pr setups...

Disclaimer: this is all speculative and is just my opinion. No one has to agree... we don’t all have to agree because really the only people who know the truth are Taylor and those she has shared it with. I do have a very skeptical view of the entertainment industry and pr, so that is a bias I will own up to. I especially think Taylor, for a very long time, was willing to play along with the pr side of things, but eventually reached a breaking point (as any normal human under that amount of pressure and scrutiny likely would). Whether that means she has faked all of her public relationships or some of them or just aspects of them... I can’t really, truly know that. So, just keep in mind that this is one little, insignificant person’s view of Taylor’s public relationships and that I do not personally know any of the people involved...

Don’t take this too seriously, peeps... I’ll even tag it as crack theory...

Joe J.: June/July-September/October 2008

If nothing else this feels like a typical pr setup of two young stars. He had Camp Rock, a Jonas Bros’ album and a tour and concert film to promote. Camp Rock came out on 6/20/2008. The Jonas Bros’ third album, A Little Bit Longer, was released on 8/12/2008. In August, Taylor joined the band on stage during the filming for a concert movie that would be released in February 2009. 

Taylor had an album that was released just weeks after their alleged breakup. An album which contained a few songs that would be attributed to Joe J. due to the publicity surrounding their relationship. Hmm... what a great way to drum up interest in an album that includes quite a few heartbreak songs. Not saying I know that is the case, but they both had a lot to promote between June and November 2008.

Lucas T.: March-April/May 2009

He was in the Hannah Montana movie, which was released 4/10/2009. Taylor had a cameo in that movie and also wrote a song for the soundtrack. Lucas also played Taylor’s love interest in the mv for YBWM, which premiered 5/2/2009 on CMT. He was in one of her Myspace vlogs in April 2009. IMO, this was a setup to promote the Hannah Montana movie and the YBWM mv, but it didn’t really take off. Lucas later said they dated briefly, but he realized that he just saw her as a friend...

Taylor L.: August-December 2009

 They played a couple in Valentine’s Day. In September, just days after the VMAs where KW interrupted Taylor on stage as Taylor L. stood a few feet away, Taylor went to an Owl City concert at the Bowery Ballroom where she met the man who would supposedly inspire “Enchanted”. Umm... “please don’t be in love with someone else”... even though I am currently dating Taylor L. and he is my forever crush, but like, I am totally crushing on you actually. I have no clue if any Swifties have ever picked up on that discrepancy.  

Oh, and Taylor L. also “dated” Selena in early 2009 and I doubt Taylor would go there, even if they ended on good terms. I mean, it’s possible, but idk it seems unlikely to me. 

John M.: December 2009-February 2010

I think Taylor admired him as a musician (this seems to have been mutual with John praising her talent multiple times) and she may have seen him as a mentor at first. I do not believe that anything happened between them beyond that. I think he was so thrown off by “Dear John” because of that. He was already tweeting in the spring of 2009, hinting at wanting to collaborate with Taylor. The album their duet was on came out in November 2009, right before they started “dating”. Although it wasn’t released as a single until June 2010.

Besides, Liz (friend or otherwise) has remained a fan of John and even went to his concert a few years back. So, either she didn’t care that he screwed one of her supposed good friends over or it didn’t go down how people were led to believe it did.

Jake G.: October 2010-December/January 2011

Unless this relationship started much earlier than everyone has been led to believe, it is very unlikely that ATW is about him. It certainly seems to have been written prior to the maple latte/scarf/sister’s house articles that were abundant after that pap walk. Either Taylor used him as a scapegoat for a song that wasn’t about him or he was a willing participant in a pr scheme to make sure people thought the song was about him. 

He couldn’t have been setup with his costar, Anne H., because she was already in a long term, committed relationship. At the time Taylor was still good pr since she was still known as a kind of girl next door, all American type with genuine talent. 

I’m not saying I know for a fact it was fake. I’m saying there are plenty of reasons why I think it was. Everyone has different perspectives... mine is that this was purely a pr setup.

Will A.: sometime in 2010 and/or mid or fall 2011-January 2012 or May (?) 2012

They were likely just friends, but people did think they were dating back then. The songs that people think he wrote about Taylor (”White Dress” and “Kiss Me Slowly”) were recorded in 2010. So, if she started dating him in September 2011, which people think because the dress she wore to his May 2012 birthday party was the one she is wearing on the “Begin Again” cover art, then those songs aren’t about her. About the party dress...  Sarah B., who took the picture, was also friends with the Parchute guys, so maybe the photoshoot that the picture on that cover art came from happened earlier that day. 

He was friends with Liz’s ex Jason and one of his best friends is still to this day very close friends with Liz, so that’s probably how he met Taylor. I think Taylor hung out with that crew a bit back then. AND those times Will and Taylor were seen hanging out in late fall/early winter 2011, Jason and/or the other friend were there. Yes, I am saying that Taylor was hanging out with Jason in November/December 2011, just a few months after he and Liz supposedly broke up. She was also still hanging out with Liz a lot at that time and after, though, so I think it was all good.

Conor K.: July 2012-September/October 2012

This was Taylor’s worst pr. If it was a real relationship... it is borderline predatory. If it is fake... still a big yikes... I don’t have much to say about this one. I think it was fake and an attempt at making him the muse for “Starlight” (how cute, this song she wrote about his grandparents sort of became about them), “Begin Again” (nevermind that the copyright record say the song was written in 2011), and EHC (nevermind that the song was written in May 2012). It would have been great pr, though, if he was a couple years older. Taylor should have fired Paula after this one... (because the public should have never known about it, real or fake).

Harry S.: November 2012-January 2013

Similar to all the others before (and after), there were “random” sightings, including a birthday trip to “the lakes” and blatant pr (go on and wear that fox sweater and paper airplane necklace, Taylor...). That NYE kiss, though...

Calvin: February 2015-May/June 2016

Taylor finally dropped her old publicist and brought on Tree. First step, was to erase the “boy crazy”/“man eater” label (and possibly the “professional beard” label) and become an independent woman who just wants to have fun with her gal pals. It got a bit gayer than expected (whether Kaylor was really a thing to some degree or not is irrelevant to the point). The gay rumors were actually catching on even faster and people were like “oh, that’s why she couldn’t keep a man” (sexist/homophobic as all of this is/was, ofc). 

Enter Calvin... a playboy DJ who some might deem “tall and handsome as hell” (peeps, I am not really the best judge of a man’s attractiveness, so this is just how I think people see him). He seems sooo straight. I don’t know how else to say it. All of her other supposed boyfriends had gay rumors, whether or not those rumors were just people gossiping or had some basis in reality... I think he is the only one that doesn’t have them, that I know of anyway. 

I know a lot of people think they were really together, but I think this was an attempt to have her in a more serious, long term relationship to counteract both the gay rumors (not necessarily as a cover for a woman because I don’t think all of the guys have been or need to have been covers for a secret relationship with a woman, it’s about appearing straight) and the “can’t keep a man” narrative that had followed her around. Even if they were in some sort of situationship (not what I think, just theorizing here), it wouldn’t have been a steady thing and they seemed to not like each other very much when all was said and done.

I still laugh that he said Taylor was the opposite of his type (and specified that he likes brunettes) in November 2014 and then he allegedly dated her for almost a year and a half, starting literally a few months after he made that comment. If that was a real relationship, he was either playing it cool when he said that or he misjudged her or Taylor was determined to date him because it was a challenge.

Either way, it seems like her team controlled the public narrative and maybe Calvin was okay with that at first, but over time it seemed like he wasn’t a big fan of that. Maybe that visit to the strip mall massage parlor was a bit of a rebellion... 

At least they both got some royalties out of it...

Joe A.: September 2016-Present

Taylor’s team absolutely has control of the public narrative and he seems okay with that. He is a literal mirrorball. He is whatever Taylor supposedly says he is in her songs/whatever Swifties want him to be.

He likes to drop fun facts like how his family jumps into a freezing pond at Christmas or that he worked at a yogurt shop as a teenager. Whether they are real or not... he seems to be playing into the pr. Dropping little bits of information that will tie him to her songs... it is very “maple latte”/“paper airplane necklace”/dark jeans and Nikes... OR Taylor is just taking the few facts people know about him and using it to pin songs on him.

If he is a beard (which imo he likely is), I think he gets along with Taylor and doesn’t mind the minimal pr of it all.

I don’t think he is WB, either way...

Again this is just my view of things. This has no bearing on which women Taylor may have dated. I could do a separate post on what I think that timeline might look like.

One point I will reiterate is that I do not think that a beard would always be a cover for a secret relationship with a woman. I think it sometimes is, but it can be more of a general cover for someone who is gay. So many people think Taylor is the straightest person who has ever lived simply because of her public dating record. I mean, heteronormativity and homophobia also play a big part in that...

Edit: I completely skipped Tom lol. I just don’t buy that one either. Maybe he thought it would be good publicity or maybe he was led on to think it was more real than it was or maybe he was just having fun. Idk. All kinds of articles written about them at the time included some caveat about how they seemed fake or were maybe filming something...

[letterboxd]

Savage Cinema.

From anarchists and adultery to milk baths and massacres, Matthew Turner shares five of the weirdest and wildest highlights of Hollywood’s pre-Code era, as #PreCodeApril comes to a close.

Pre-Code April was directly inspired by Noirvember, a month-long celebration of noir cinema instigated by Marya Gates (Oldfilmsflicker). I did Noirvember for the first time in November 2019, really enjoyed it, and thought it would be great to do the same thing for pre-Code movies. Although I’ve watched most of the classic 1930s films, I realised there were a huge number of pre-Code films I’d never seen (of my Letterboxd list of over 900 Pre-Code films, I have only seen 200).

As a sucker for a bit of wordplay, no matter how tenuous, I picked April partly because it’s six months away from Noirvember and partly because of the shared “pr” sound in April and Pre-Code. I’ve been absolutely delighted by the response—the #PreCodeApril hashtag on Twitter is a daily treasure trove of pre-Code-related joy, but I was genuinely thrilled to see the response on Letterboxd (here is my watchlist for the month). It’s been a real pleasure to see pre-Code movies constantly popping up in my ‘new from friends’ feed. My hope is that it’ll be even bigger next year—and that maybe TCM will want to get involved, the way they do with Noirvember.

Produced between 1929 and 1934, pre-Code cinema refers to films made in a brief period between the silent era, and Hollywood beginning to enforce the Motion Picture Production Code censorship guidelines (mandatory enforcement came in from July 1934). The “Code” in question was popularly known as the Hays Code, after then MPPDA president Will H. Hays. As the depression set in and box office declined, theater owners needed fare that would drive cinema-goers to the movies. It was a wild time to be a scriptwriter; they threw everything at the page, designers added even more, and actors played out the kinds of scenes, from the suggestive to the overt, that would otherwise be banned for decades to come.

The following five films demonstrate some of Hollywood’s craziest pre-Code excesses. They’re still jaw-dropping, even by today’s standards, and notably give female characters an agency that would be later denied as the Christian morals of the Code overruled writers’ kinks.

Madam Satan (1930) Directed by Cecil B. DeMille, written by Elsie Janis, Jeanie Macpherson and Gladys Unger

A critical and commercial flop in 1930, Cecil B. DeMille’s utterly insane musical comedy stars Kay Johnson as a straight-laced wife who plots to win back her unfaithful husband (Reginald Denny) by seducing him at a costume party, disguised as a mysterious devil woman. The location of this party? Oh, nothing too fancy, just on board a giant zeppelin. (“Madam Satan or: How the Film gets Fucking Crazy on the Blimp,” as Ryan reviewed it.)

Madam Satan is not by any stretch of the imagination a good movie (the editing alone is laughably bad), but as a piece of pre-Code craziness, it really has to be seen to be believed. Co-written by a trio of women and set in just three locations, it goes from racy bedroom farce to avant-garde musical to full-on disaster movie after a bolt of lightning hits the blimp.

The film is justly celebrated (in camp classic circles, at least) for the wildly over-the-top costumes paraded in the masquerade ball sequence, but there’s weird outfit joy everywhere you look. Keep an eye out for an enterprising extra who’s come dressed as a set of triplets.

Call Her Savage (1932) Directed by John Francis Dillon, written by Tiffany Thayer and Edwin J. Burke

Adapted from a salacious novel by Tiffany Thayer, Call Her Savage was former silent star Clara Bow’s second-to-last film before her retirement at the age of 28. She plays Texas gal Nasa Springer, who’s always had a “savage” temper she can’t explain. In the space of 88 minutes she goes from wild teenager to jilted newlywed to young mother to prostitute to wealthy society girl to alcoholic before finally (it’s implied) settling down with her Native-American friend after discovering that she’s half-Native-American, something the audience has known all along.

Bow’s performance is frankly astonishing, to the point where you simply can’t believe what you’re seeing from one moment to the next. Sample scenes see her savagely whipping both a snake and her Indian friend, smashing a guitar over a musician’s head and violently wrestling her Great Dane… and that’s all in the first five minutes. She’s also frequently in a state of near undress throughout—one funny scene has her maids chasing her with a dressing gown because they’re afraid she’ll run down the street in her négligée.

The rest of the film includes alcohol, adultery, strong violence, attempted rape, murder, syphilis (not named, but heavily implied) and baby death. It’s a veritable smorgasbord of outrageous content and Bow is pure dynamite throughout. The film is also noted for being one of the first on-screen portrayals of homosexuality, when Nasa visits a gay bar in the Village frequented by “wild poets and anarchists”.

Smarty (1934) Directed by Robert Florey, written by Carl Erickson and F. Hugh Herbert

This deeply problematic sex comedy features pre-Code stars Joan Blondell and Warren William (often nicknamed ‘The King of Pre-Code’) at their absolute filthiest. Blondell plays Vicki, a capricious, happily married wife who gets an obvious kick out of taunting her husband, Tony (William). When he cracks and slaps her at a party, she divorces him and marries her lawyer, Vernon (Edward Everett Horton), whom she also goads into slapping her in a deliberate ploy to win back Tony.

Essentially, Smarty hinges on Vicki liking rough sex and it’s completely blatant about it, ending with her sighing “Hit me again” (the film’s UK title!) as they sink into a clinch on a couch, a rapturous expression on her face. It’s a controversial film because on the surface it looks like it’s condoning domestic violence, but it’s very clearly about Vicki’s openly expressed sexual desires—she wants to be punished and dominated, she just has a rather dodgy way of getting what she wants.

It might be unsophisticated, but in some ways Smarty is remarkably ahead of its time and ripe for rediscovery. To that end, it would make a fascinating double bill with Stephen Shainberg’s Secretary (2002). Oh, and it’s also chock-full of lingerie scenes (like most pre-Code films), if you like that sort of thing.

Massacre (1934) Directed by Alan Crosland, written by Sheridan Gibney, Ralph Block and Robert Gessner

Several pre-Code films (notably those made by Warner Bros) took a no-punches-pulled approach to their depiction of social issues, and star Richard Barthelmess actively sought out such projects. Here he plays Joe Thunderhorse, a Native American who’s become famous on the rodeo circuit. When he returns to his tribe to bury his father, he ends up fighting for their rights, taking on corrupt government officials and religious authorities.

Massacre is fascinating because on the one hand it’s wildly insensitive—Barthelmess and co-star Ann Dvorak are both cast as Native Americans—but on the other, it burns with a righteous fury and does more than any other Hollywood film (before or since) to champion the rights and highlight the injustices dealt out to Native Americans. That fury is encapsulated in a horrifying and rightly upsetting rape scene (it happens off-screen, but the cuts leave you in no doubt) that the film handles with surprising sensitivity.

In addition to being a passionate fight against racism and social injustice, the film also has some genuinely shocking sexual content. Most notably, Joe is seen making love to a rich white woman (Claire Dodd, who’s also in Smarty) who has an obvious sexual fetish, flaunting him in front of her friends and making a shrine in her room with Native-American paraphernalia.

The Sign of the Cross (1932) Directed by Cecil B. DeMille, written by Waldemar Young and Sidney Buchman

Yes, this is Cecil B. DeMille again, but no list of weird and wild pre-Code films would be complete without the jaw-dropping ancient Rome epic, The Sign of the Cross. Adapted from an 1895 play by Wilson Barrett, it stars Frederic March as Marcus Superbus (stop sniggering at the back there), who’s torn between his loyalty to Emperor Nero (Charles Laughton) and his love for a Christian woman (Elissa Landi), while also fending off the advances of the Emperor’s wife, Poppaea (Claudette Colbert).

The film is racy enough in its sexual content alone: highlights include the famous scene of Claudette Colbert taking a nude milk bath and an erotic “lesbian” dance sequence, where Joyzelle Joyner’s “most wicked and talented woman in Rome” does ‘The Dance of the Naked Moon’ at Frederic March’s orgy, trying to tempt Landi’s virtuous Christian, to the obvious arousal of the gathered guests.

However, it’s the climactic gladiatorial-arena sequence that will leave your jaw on the floor. Lasting around twelve minutes, it includes: someone getting eaten by a tiger, a tied-up, naked women being approached by hungry crocodiles, pygmies getting chopped up by female barbarians, elephants stomping on heads, a gorilla approaching a naked woman tied to a stake, a man getting gored by a bull, and gladiators fighting to the death, complete with blood and gory injury detail.

The whole thing is genuinely horrifying, even for 2021. Best of all, DeMille pointedly critiques the audience (ourselves included), by showing a series of reaction shots ranging from intense enjoyment to abject seen-it-all-before boredom.

Matthew Turner (FilmFan1971) is a critic, author, podcaster and lifelong film fanatic. His favorite film is ‘Vertigo’. The films in this article are also listed here: Five of the Pre-Code Era’s Most Outrageous Films.

[masterofmunson]

all i ask of you (4)

Harry Styles x Fem!Reader Broadway AU

Summary: You’re forced to work with your famous ex boyfriend on Broadway.

Word Count: 6.1k+

Warnings: language, drinking, drama, cliff hanger!

Author’s Note: woohoo! i’m back baby! so sorry for the long delay of part four of the story. please tell me what you think! reblogs, comments, and asks are encouraged and appreciated <3

Jane nearly tramples you as the two of you make it out of the basketball arena with your college diplomas in hand. You laugh and hold on to her tightly as you walk through the arena to the front doors where you know your entire family is waiting. 

“We did it! We graduated college!” Jane shouts. 

“I know! Can you believe it?” you ask her. It had been a long and hard four years for the both of you. You constantly questioned if it was worth it. People always doubted you. They didn’t believe you could have a promising career with a Music and Theater degree. It didn’t matter if you had prospects on Broadway in the near future. No one but your closest family and friends believed in you. 

You walk out the front doors and eagerly search for your family. Jane tugs on your arm, finding your families first. You hurry over to your mother and brothers, hugging them tightly in a group hug. Your oldest brother, Garrett, lifts you off the ground into a tight embrace. You laugh and cling to him before your family friend Glenne tackles you for a hug. 

It surprises you that she’s here for your graduation. You knew she’d been invited, but you hadn’t expected her or her boyfriend to come. It makes you slightly upset that they took the time to come celebrate your accomplishments with you, but your boyfriend Harry couldn’t. You understood why, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. He wanted to be as private about your relationship as possible, even though he could’ve still come to support you as one of your closest friends. No one would ever know that the two of you were dating if Jeff and Glenne were around.

“What are you doing here?!” you laugh as Jeff kisses your cheek and hugs you tightly. “I told you that you didn’t have to come!”

“Nonsense!” Glenne shouts with a growing smile. “We wouldn’t miss this for the world, and we brought a surprise with us!”

Your eyebrows pinch together as you stare at her. What surprise? Your loud mouth baby brother surely would’ve spoiled it for you. “What do you mean?” 

There’s a soft tap on your shoulder and Glenne smirks nodding her head at the person standing behind you. Jane gasps in surprise as she stands between her dad and sister. 

You spin around and your eyes meet those of your handsome, rockstar boyfriend. You gasp and he grins, taking you in his arms. You cling to him and he secretly presses a kiss behind your ear. 

“You said you couldn’t come,” you whisper in his ear as he holds you. 

“I would never miss my girl’s biggest accomplishment, even if it means I’d have to hold off from kissing her until we're in private,” he answers back sweetly, making your insides all warm and fuzzy. 

…. 

On opening night, you made the executive decision to let bygones be bygones. You wanted the show to succeed, regardless of how you felt towards Harry. Everything is water under the bridge. You’ve moved on. You’ve healed. You’re a different person now than you were four years ago. At least that’s what you’ve convinced yourself. 

So as a sign of good faith and a step towards the right direction, you went to your favorite coffee shop and bought Harry a coffee and bagel for breakfast. You had a good feeling about tonight. You always do when it comes to opening night. It doesn’t matter how nervous you are. 

Keying into the back entrance of the theater, you open the door and walk down the hall into yours and Harry’s shared dressing room. The door is already open and the lights are on which tells you that Harry’s inside. You take a deep breath before stepping into the threshold of the room. 

What you don’t expect are the amount of visitors this early in the morning. The first person you recognize is Kendall. You know you shouldn’t be surprised that she’s here. They were together before you were with Harry and are still friends. It never sat right with you while you were dating, but you never told him that. You were too busy falling in love with him. 

Then you recognize his sister and his mom. You’d only met them a handful of times, while you were still friends and when you were dating. They’re lovely women and you liked spending time with Gemma whenever she visited. There’s a few others sitting on the couch when you realize they’re a part of his band. 

It’s silent when you stand at the door. They’re all staring at you and you feel like you can’t breathe. This wasn’t how you wanted to start your day, especially today of all days. Right now isn’t a good time to give his friends and family a tour of the place, especially when curtain call is 10 hours from now. 

Harry moves to approach you from his spot next to his mother. You immediately exit the room and walk down the hall away from prying eyes and ears. Harry gently places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to spin around and face him. You recoil from his touch and shove the food and drink you bought him in his hands. 

“Here,” you say. “Consider this my olive branch.”

Harry murmurs your name gently. “Listen, I had no idea this many people were coming to the show and wanted a tour of the place beforehand. I didn’t know Kendall was coming. I’d gotten the okay from Frank and it was Jeff’s idea—”

You interrupt him with a bitter laugh and shake your head at him. “Right, because nothing is ever your fault. Whatever, Harry. I don’t care. Invite whoever you want, I don’t give a shit. Stop acting like you feel the need to run things by me. I’m not your girlfriend. Just do what you want and leave me alone,” you snap at him. You walk into Aaron’s dressing room and shut the door loudly behind you. 

Harry frowns, staring at the empty hallway before walking back to the dressing room with the bagel and coffee in his hands. He avoids the shocked looks directed at him as he enters the room, especially from Gemma and his mother. He tries to pretend not to notice. 

“Jesus, Harry,” Gemma chastised him. “Why didn’t you tell us you were in a show with your ex girlfriend? Especially considering how things ended!”

Anne gently slaps her eldest in the arm. “Now’s not the time, Gem,” Anne answers for her son. “He needs to focus and we should all leave. It’s unfair to the rest of the cast to be a distraction, including Y/n. I’m sure seeing all of us just scared her.”

“That’s painfully obvious.” 

Everyone leaves the room and exits the theater, leaving Harry alone. He sighs, sitting down in his chair. He runs a hand through his hair and groans in frustration. He’s so sick and tired of messing things up with you. Harry understands why you’re so cold and hostile towards him. He knows he deserves it. 

Having his family, friends, and even Kendall in the dressing room scared you. He knows that but did it anyway. You don’t know what he told them when your relationship ended. Did he put the blame all on you? Did he make you the bad guy? The aforementioned crazy ex girlfriend never to speak of? Knowing how terrible of a boyfriend he was to you at the end of your relationship, he probably did. 

Harry reaches for the cup of coffee you bought him. He takes a gentle sip and hums in approval. Even though it’s been several years, you still know that he takes his coffee black. You always teased him about it and called him grandpa as a result. He thought it was sweet. 

He pulls the bagel out of the paper wrapping and takes a bite. You remembered his favorite bagel too, even after all these years. Even after all the things he did. There’s just some things you don’t forget, no matter how small. 

In Aaron’s dressing room, you finally reveal the true nature of your relationship with Harry to him. Jane couldn’t contain her smirk or laughter as you rant about your famous ex boyfriend. 

“Wait, what?!” Aaron shouts, shaking his head at you in disbelief. “Your ex boyfriend, the ex boyfriend that made you choose between him or Broadway is Harry? Harry Styles thought he could make you choose him over your career?”

“Yes, Aaron,” you say for the umpteenth time. “I know it’s a shock that the Harry Styles is and was an asshole considering what his brand is.”

Your co-star frowns in response. He stops pacing the room and takes a seat beside you on the couch. He takes your hand and gives it a firm squeeze. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

You nod your head in response before sipping at your coffee. “It’s okay. It’s history now. I’m over it, and despite what happened, I forgave him. I know in my heart that he’s a different person now than he was when we were together but he just made me realize that I shouldn’t be with someone who isn’t willing to put in the work or compromise to be happy. Maybe that’s why I’ve been single ever since,” you laugh, leaning into him. 

There’s a soft knock at the door, causing you to sit up. Aaron shouts that the door is open and Harry pokes his head in. He laughs nervously and scratches the back of his neck. Both Aaron and Jane glare at him. 

“What do you want, Harry?” Jane snaps at him, standing up from her spot on the couch. She puts herself between you and the door, blocking you from his view. 

“I just need to talk to Y/n. I have something for her,” Harry answers, peering over Jane to look at you. 

You sigh and stand up from your spot on the couch. You pull Jane away from the door and walk out of Aaron’s room without a word spoken to Harry. You return to your shared dressing room without anyone else inside. Harry trails behind, shutting the door. Taking a seat at your makeup table, you watch Harry carefully pick up a bouquet of beautiful lilies in a glass vase. He sets them on your table and you smell the flowers immediately. 

“I know I keep messing things up between us. I say something stupid and I do things without thinking. I’ve been incredibly selfish and despite the fact you want nothing to do with me, you’re still helping me because you want the show to be a success regardless. I’m really sorry and I also wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done,” Harry apologizes with a gentle, sincere smile. 

You swallow hard. You hadn’t expected him to apologize. Knowing he planned to apologize with a bouquet of flowers that symbolize forgiveness twists something inside of you. You don’t know what it is exactly, but it feels good. It’s a step in the right direction. 

You laugh softly. Despite not seeing each other since the break up, you and Harry still seem to be in tune with one another. Of course he would get you flowers, a personal favorite of yours, on the day you bring him breakfast. Some things are harder to break than others. 

“What?” 

“It’s just funny to me that even after all these years, we’re still in sync. You brought flowers for me on the same day I brought coffee for you. I guess some habits are harder to break than others,” you answer softly. 

Harry laughs too and the room falls silent. “Thank you, though, for the apology. I understand that you’re just excited. I was too. All I wanted to do was introduce my family to the cast and show the sets when they flew out to watch me in Cats for the first time,” you tell him, rubbing your hands on the top of your thighs. You bite the inside of your cheek and Harry winces the moment the words leave your mouth. You shouldn’t have brought it up. 

When you started your career on Broadway in Cats, it had only been two and a half months since the messy breakup with Harry. You had blocked his number, but you were too afraid to do anything else normal couples would when they broke up. You didn’t want his fans to figure out or piece together scenarios if you unfollowed him on social media or deleted the photos you had together off your profiles. As far as they knew, you were only mutual friends because of Glenne, Harry’s manager’s girlfriend. Jane took you out drinking for a week straight after the break up to try and cheer you up. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I didn’t mean to mention it like that, only that I was just excited as you are now.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says quietly. 

You cough and quickly change the subject. “You should definitely invite your family and friends to the after show after party. I’m not sure if anyone’s told you yet but we always have a massive party after the premier of a show. It’s always at The Plaza and it’s all for the publicity for the hotel and luxury sponsorships so the cast spends the night free of charge. It’s a lot of fun.”

“Aaron told me about it yesterday,” Harry confirms, nodding his head. “I already gave them invites.”

“Sweet.”

There’s a sharp knock on the door before it’s pushed open. One of the photographers, Trevor, steps inside. You smile warmly at him and hug him quickly. 

“Hey, sorry to interrupt. Frank wants cast photos before everyone starts to get busy with vocal warm ups, hair, make up, and costume changes,” Trevor tells the two of you. He shakes Harry’s hand and introduces himself. 

You nod your head and Trevor holds his camera up to his face. You pose, grinning at him as he takes a photo of you. He takes a quick glance at it. 

“Absolutely stunning,” he says before leaving the room. 

You leave the room first and Harry follows close behind. You make a quick stop to Aaron’s dressing room and link your arm with Jane’s as you walk to the stage. Walking through the curtain, you and Jane move to the front of the stage and take a seat on the floor. 

The rest of the cast walks on stage as a group of photographers move to the front. Everyone squeezes together for a variety of photos. Harry and Aaron join you and Jane on the floor in the front. Frank points to the small space left between you and Harry. 

“Get closer,” Frank directs the two of you. Harry glances over at you before inching closer. He carefully places his arm around your torso. It makes your heart stop. 

The photographers take a number of photos before Frank dismisses the cast except for you, Harry, and Aaron. Harry’s careful to touch you as they take photos of the two of you. Trevor looks out from his camera lens. 

“Aaron and Harry, kiss Y/n on the cheek!” he says. 

“I dunno—”

“It’s fine, Harry,” you interrupt with a gentle smile. 

Harry’s mouth touches your skin and you hold your breath as Trevor captures the photo with Aaron and Harry pressing their mouths to your face. They pull away and you scratch the back of your neck bashfully before returning to your room. 

Kelly, your assigned hair and makeup artist, enters your dressing room a few minutes later. You hug her tightly and the gorgeous redhead laughs. She sets her kit on the table. Mandi, the costume coordinator enters the room and makes a beeline towards the hanger rack with the dresses. 

Kelly helps you secure your hair in a wig cap before gently placing the wig of Christine’s gorgeous, long, curls on your head. She moves it in place and teases up the loose strands. She pins it to the cap and it looks as if the hair is your own. It’s your favorite part of becoming Christine. 

Harry arrives a few minutes after Kelly starts working on your stage makeup. Zoe and Bridget work with him on hair, make up, and his costume at his table. Music plays softly in the background as the two of you get ready side by side. You sing along softly and ignore Harry’s gentle gaze. 

He’s always been terrible at trying to hide the way he looks at you, even now. 

Mandi helps you change into the first costume Christine wears for the first few scenes. Despite the fact that you’ve grown so used to the costumes, changing into them, especially with Harry close by makes you feel weird. 

You continue your vocal warm ups and drink water as Kelly works on your makeup. You’re careful to relax your eyes and face as she works on your foundation and eyeshadow. 

The dressing room door is pushed open and Trevor reappears with your manager trailing behind. He takes behind the scenes photos of you and Harry getting ready for curtain call. 

“I have your dress for the after party,” Gretchen, your manager tells you, side eyeing Harry from her spot on the couch. “I’ll bring it inside when the show’s over.”

“Sweet, thanks, Gretchen,” you tell her. 

“There’ll also be journalists and reporters at the after party red carpet, so you’re more than welcome to speak to them. Talk about the show, how you felt it went, whatever.”

You hum in response as Kelly lightly applies lip gloss to your mouth. You keep your eyes closed when you hear Jeff come inside and greet Harry. They talk quietly and Jeff tells him what kind of questions to expect at the red carpet. You’re guessing it has to do with you, knowing that the gossip columnists will more than likely ask about what it’s like working with Harry since they only knew that you’ve met in the past. They don’t have a clue that you and Harry used to date. They care more about linking Harry to any woman he knows rather than his music or other accomplishments. 

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” Kelly compliments you. 

You grin and wink at her. “It’s ‘cos I have you to make me look all pretty,” you say. It makes her laugh. 

“When you and Harry are done getting ready, I wanted to take photos of the two of you in costume if that’s okay,” Trevor says, snapping photos of you and Harry at your respective makeup tables. 

You nod your head and Harry does the same. You hop off the makeup chair and take a sip of water before leaving the dressing room to the stage. Trevor follows behind before you pose for photos in character until Harry’s done getting into costume. You start some vocal warm ups in the meantime as you wait for him to join you on the stage. Jane appears in costume and starts her vocal warm up with you. Trevor takes photos of the two of you together as you sing and dance with your best friend. 

Harry appears on stage with Jeff and Gretchen behind him. You glance over at him and you swallow hard. You try not to think of how handsome he looks in costume. His hair is parted down the middle and the costume fits him perfectly. Your eyes meet his briefly as he approaches you. He leans forward and presses an unexpected kiss to your temple. You cough uncomfortably when you hear Trevor’s camera click, capturing the image. 

“How cute,” he says, smiling at the two of you. You fake a smile and bite the inside of your cheek. “Harry, can you hold Y/n like you’re dancing with her and dip her close to the floor? I want to catch the intimate relationship Christine and Raoul have with each other.”

He nods and you turn to face each other. You carefully wrap your arms around his neck and his hands settle on your waist. You slowly dance with each other and your heart starts to race. Harry’s hands slide to your upper back as he dips you down towards the floor. You cling to him as you feel yourself start to fall. He laughs softly as your noses touch and a loose curl of his touches your face. It makes your heart stop. You hear the camera click before Harry gently pulls you up. You take a step away from him to put space between the two of you. 

“Fantastic, thanks,” Trevor says, quickly looking at the photos he captured before running off the stage, leaving you, Jane, and Harry on stage. 

“I’m going to go decompress before curtain call,” you say to no one in particular before hurrying off to one of the practice rooms. You shut the door behind you and let out a loud breath of air you were holding in. 

You settle on the piano bench and rest your fingers gently on the keys. You press the keys softly as the music fills the room. You sing quietly and don’t hear the door open until you see Jeff out of the corner of your eye approaching you at the piano. You turn to face him. 

“Hey, I just wanted to wish you good luck before curtain call. Harry said you’d be in here,” he says. 

Your hands drop from the piano and into your lap. You move to the end of the bench to make room for him. He sits down next to you. 

“Thanks. Now why are you really here?” you ask with a soft laugh. 

Jeff laughs too and shakes his head. “Nothing gets past you, huh?” 

“You’re Harry’s manager, Jeff. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why you’d come and talk to me without Harry if there’s something that concerns you about your client and their image.” 

“I just want to warn you about possible gossip columnists. They’ll try to link you to Harry regardless of what either of you say. They’ll ask incredibly intrusive questions and—”

“Jeff, I know,” you interrupt him. “Only a select few know that Harry and I dated and they know better than to say anything to anyone. I know how to handle it. I’m not a crazy ex girlfriend.”

“I know.”

You stand up from the piano bench and rub out the wrinkles of your dress. “Then don’t worry about it. Harry’s image is still safe. Can you imagine the uproar if his fans found out how terrible of a boyfriend he was to me? They’d somehow make it my fault.”

You leave the practice room and return to your dressing room. You finally have the chance to relax without Harry looking over your shoulder and staring at you.  

“They’re starting to let the audience in,” Jane comes to tell you with less than two hours to spare until the show starts. 

You thank her quietly and lightly touch up on your makeup before walking around back to try and find Harry. You find him with the makeup artists that are putting on the beard for the opening scene. You laugh softly from behind and he turns to look at you. 

“At least it makes you older,” you tease. 

“Sexy, right?” Harry asks. 

You nod your head. “Oh, yeah, definitely,” you pause and scratch at your hand. “I just wanted to wish you good luck.”

Harry stares at you, surprised that you’d go out of your way to wish him good luck on his first opening night in his first Broadway show. He smiles at you. 

“Thank you, darling.”

You ignore the twist inside your stomach. 

….

Adrenaline is racing through you as you hear the orchestra start. From behind stage, you watch the dancers and ensemble cast move on stage. You trail behind Jane and the rest of the dancers as you dance on stage. 

Your muscle memory kicks in and you become Christine. You move across the stage as Christine. You sing as Christine. 

As the show progresses and as you change in and out of costumes, you get closer and closer to All I Ask of You. 

Off stage, you quickly change into another one of Christine’s gorgeous dresses. You run on stage and Harry’s not too far behind. You grab at his shoulders as the music starts and the two of you begin singing. 

The two of you move together perfectly on stage and his touch lingers. It makes your heart race as you approach the lyric right before you’re supposed to kiss him. 

“Say you love me,” you sing to him as Harry reaches to hold your face. Harry smiles gently and brushes a stray curl out of your face. 

“You know I do,” Harry sings back to you. Your hands squeeze each other’s tightly and you take a careful breath inward as Harry leans in to kiss you. 

The music roars in your ears as his mouth meets yours. You cling to him as Harry spins you around the stage with your mouths still together in a loving, passionate kiss between Christine and Raoul. 

The audience cheers when the song finishes and you kiss Harry two more times before the curtains close for intermission. You quickly run off stage with the rest of the ensemble cast and change into a new dress before running to the bathroom. Kelly is hot on your heels and helps you with the overflowing fabric before you hurry back to your dressing room for her to touch up on the wig and your makeup. 

Harry returns to the dressing room and Zoe and Bridget touch up his hair and stage makeup, quickly fastening the microphone in the right place. He takes a few gentle sips of water and watches you sit back against your chair as Kelly fixes the fallen curls on the wig before placing the crown on top of your head. 

The five minute warning bell rings and both you and Harry hurry back to the stage. You shake out your nerves. There’s only 45 minutes left of the show. It’s okay. You can do this. 

Harry reaches for your hand and you nearly pull away when you realize you have to hold his hand as you go on stage. He squeezes your hand tightly before leading you on stage. 

Music rings throughout the theater. Harry holds you securely as you dance and go through the scene. 

Time flies and before you know it, you kissed Harry for the last time on stage for the night before curtain call. The last song fades out and the audience begins to clap and cheer for the cast and crew. 

Harry’s hand leaves yours as he goes for his curtain call. The audience screams and claps in admiration for him, of course. He’s Harry Styles for crying out loud! 

Then it’s your turn to run out and bow in front of the audience. You take great pride in knowing that the audience was significantly louder for you than for Harry, and he’s the superstar. 

Once the curtains close, you reach for Harry. You squeeze his hand and give him a hug. “You did amazing, Harry,” you compliment. “Congrats on finishing your first Broadway show.”

He grins at you. “Thank you. That means the world to me coming from you.”

You smile again and the two of you walk together towards your shared dressing room. Kelly and Mandi are talking with the women in charge of Harry’s makeup, hair, and costume when the two of you arrive. Kelly and Mandi both give you congratulatory hugs before you settle down in your chair. 

Kelly quickly and carefully takes the wig off your head and sets it down. She works with the wig cap and unclasps the pins to your hair. She takes it off and you sigh in relief, leaning back in the chair as she combs through your hair. 

You take off your stage makeup in record time. You feel like your pores can actually breathe now. 

“Here’s your dress!” Gretchen exclaims, entering the room. You gently take it from her and gasp. It’s a gorgeous black dress with beautiful lace and embroidered flowers of a variety of colors. 

Kelly helps you change into the dress and fixes your hair. Jane comes into the room wearing a yellow dress. She grins and steps to the side. You scream excitedly when your brothers step into the room. 

You tackle the two of them into a hug. They laugh and Gretchen chastises you. “Don’t ruin the dress!”

“What’re you doing here? Mom said you were busy, especially with Molly!” you tell them as you stare at your brothers. 

“And miss your premier? No way,” Garrett laughs as your sister in law comes into view with your three year old niece in her arms. 

“Auntie!” Molly shouts, reaching for you. You immediately take her in your arms and shower her with tickles and kisses. “You look like and sing like a princess!”

“Thank you, baby,” you tell her. “I missed you so much. I’m so happy you’re here with your mommy and daddy.”

“Me too!”

Jeff walks in with Glenne and Harry’s suit in his arms. You scratch at your arm and Garrett glares at Jeff and Harry. Your little brother Nolan does the same and they cross their arms over their chest. You didn’t anticipate having to put yourself between your brothers and Harry. 

“Garrett, Nolan, you remember Harry,” you introduce them to each other once more. 

“How could we forget,” Nolan responds bitterly. You glare at him as Molly clings to your neck. “Nice job, though.”

Harry smiles uncomfortably and you hand Molly back over to your brother. You quickly say your goodbyes to your family before they leave the theater for the hotel. You gather your things together as Harry changes into a pink suit. 

“Gretchen and I think that the two of you should arrive at the after party red carpet together,” Jeff tells you and Harry. “Y’know, since you’re playing love interests. It would create good publicity.”

Your eyebrows crease together in confusion as you stare at Jeff. “I thought you didn’t want the columnists to speculate? If they found out that we have history, they’ll have a field day. They’ll do anything to try and link us together as a couple.” 

“That’s not the reason why I think you should go together. Just show them that you get along with each other off stage. Some are starting to speculate a strained off stage relationship between the two of you,” Jeff replies. 

You scoff and roll your eyes at him. Of course they are. Jeff doesn’t want to make it seem like Harry is hard to work with or a diva. It’s all about protecting his image. “Fine.”

The two of you leave the dressing room together and walk out the back door where the limousine driver was waiting. Screams immediately reach your ears the moment you and Harry step out of the theater together. Cameras flash at the two of you and you’re immediately sent into a daze. You stumble back into Harry and he carefully guides you to the vehicle. His hand finds yours as he blocks the cameras from your view. 

He opens the door for you and you climb inside. He quickly shuts the door and you carefully pull your hand out of his grasp and set it on your lap. The driver pulls out of the alley and takes you and Harry to The Plaza Hotel for the after party. 

“Is it always like that when you leave places?” you ask after a few minutes of silence on the road. “Fans screaming at you and people taking photos of whoever you’re with?”

“Yeah, I suppose. I’m used to it though. ‘M sorry you had to go through that. It can be overwhelming if you’re not used to it,” he answers. 

You hum and fall into another awkward silence. You arrive at the hotel ten minutes later and the driver opens the door. Harry gets out first and screaming fills your ears again. He reaches into the car and holds out his hand for you. You hesitantly take his hand and he squeezes it reassuringly. 

He helps you out of the car and shuts the door behind you. His hand wraps around your torso and you momentarily forget that he’s your ex boyfriend. The feeling of his hand settling on your waist feels strangely comfortable, almost as if you’ve missed the feeling. You swallow hard and one of the event workers guides the two of you to the start of the red carpet. You walk on together and pose for the photographers until you’re pulled away for individual shots and interviews.  

“You were absolutely fabulous tonight, Y/n!” a reporter compliments you. “How does it feel to work with someone like Harry? Is it any different than when you shared the stage with John?”

“Thank you!” you grin at her. “It was definitely intimidating at first, considering his level of fame and stardom, but he just wants to be treated like everyone else. I have to help him here and there since he’s new to Broadway, but he’s a fast learner.”

It goes like that for a while. Reporters compliment you and then immediately ask you what it’s like to work beside Harry. Now your own accomplishments are being overshadowed by his stardom. It bitterly reminds you of the break up. 

When you make it inside the hotel and into the ballroom, you make a beeline for the bar and order a Jack and Coke. You find your seat beside Jane and you cheers before taking a generous sip of your drink. Harry doesn’t join you until dinner starts.  

Everyone at the table makes small talk as you eat when Kendall takes the empty seat next to Harry. Great. Just what you needed. Kendall says her hello’s before she turns her attention back on to Harry. You nudge Jane under the table when you realize that she’s glaring at her. 

You stand up and head to the bar to get more drinks. You just wanted the after party to go by as fast as possible. You don’t want to be near Harry, and you certainly don’t want to be near Kendall. You return to the table and Harry leans towards you. 

“What?” you ask him. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Harry. Just leave it alone,” you mumble. 

He looks like he wants to argue, but lets it go. He knows better than to start a fight with you when Jane won’t hesitate to cause a scene. 

Music starts and Jane grabs your hand, pulling you to the dance floor. You drink, laugh, and dance together. You don’t notice Harry watching you. 

After some time, you and Jane are both drunk on the dance floor. You can’t seem to control your giggles as you sing and dance. You stumble towards your table when Harry catches you before you fall. 

“You okay?” he asks, helping you to your feet. He pushes hair out of your face. 

You smile drunkenly and nod. “Perfect, H,” you answer, swaying on your feet as Harry struggles to keep you up straight. 

He laughs. “You’ve had too much to drink, darling. Let’s get you to your room.”

You pout, whining at him. “No! I’m having fun. Leave me alone!”

Harry gently guides you to your dinner table and grabs your bag. He helps you out of the ballroom and into the hotel elevator. Your head rests on his shoulder. 

“Why are you helping me?” you ask him softly. Your warm breath hits his skin and it makes him shiver. 

Harry shrugs. “I dunno…. I think there’s always going to be a part of me that always wants to look out for you. I think that’s why.”

You hum and the elevator doors slide open. You step out, holding Harry’s hand as you walk to your room. He fishes through your bag for the room key. 

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

The door clicks open and he tugs you inside. “I think there’ll always be a part of me that always wants to be with you, despite how things ended between us,” you confess drunkenly, sitting on the bed. 

Harry stares at you with wide eyes and your eyes linger on his lips. Your hand reaches for his tie and you tug him towards you.

Without a second thought, you kiss him. 

[papermoonloveslucy]

MEET THE PRESS

August 3, 1969

You are clued into the frank and tough talk to come by the way Lucille Ball swipes away with her handkerchief at the flies threatening the hors d’oeuvres The kerchief almost snaps like a wet towel. 

The scene is the pool patio of her home on Beverly Hills’ Roxbury Drive and a cocktail party is in progress for visiting television editors. 

Lucy has just emerged from the main house. She wears a powder blue double-breasted slack suit and saucer-sized sun glasses. In the blazing sun her orange hair has the color intensity of hot coals. 

She has counted heads. Husband-producer Gary Morton is there. So are Desi Arnaz IV her son, and Lucy her daughter. And her TV side-kick Gale Gordon with his wife. Plus a half-dozen of her staff and CBS emissaries. There have been introductions all round to the newspaper types. It is time, she announces, to talk and she waves everybody into the big and comfortable pool house. A table has been positioned so that she can sit there presiding as she used to do at the stockholders’ meetings of the old Desilu Studios. 

Almost immediately some wag fields her the question: “Lucy do you run the show?” She flashes him that big innocent TV look of hers. A staff member jumps up “Let’s all answer that one for her” There is a resounding “YES” from family-and-cast. Everybody laughs uproariously.

Very few questions are required to prime the pump. Lucy, it seems, has some matters of personal irritation on her mind and as far as she is concerned they come tumbling out without any prodding from her would-be interrogators. 

First of all, she asks rhetorically, what’s all this business about whether she would retire? “I never said I wanted to quit or retire. There was a time when I was willing to quit but nobody asked me. Now I’ve set a date when I’ll retire” 

A lot of ears perk up Somebody asks slyly — when? She’s waiting for that. Her answer is smilingly emphatic: “When I drop dead in my tracks.” 

She turns then without anybody’s questioning to the matter of her longevity in television. This is her 18th year on the tube and it used to be talked about that she traded her popularity to CBS in return for its buying other shows produced by her company. This evokes an almost visible jet of steam out of the top of her carrot locks. “I never at any time sold any of the 20 shows our company produced on the basis of my returning each season. I’ve said that literally hundreds of times and nobody believed it.” 

She went on to make it clear that she also dislikes the “big business” image which has adhered to her over the years. “I never like to talk about big money. I make my deal and that’s all. It’s been mostly a matter of legal procedures.” 

As the star wades into these fiscal subjects your eye roams over the assemblage. Young Desi in tennis togs impassively studies the smoke curling up from a cigarette. Young Lucy clutches her hands around her knees and stares intently at her mother. Husband Gary sitting on a ledge at the back of the room swings his legs and smiles. 

There has been no mention of Desi the elder the former husband Lucy’s co-performer and co-founder of Desilu Studios (now sold). Earlier this writer had chatted briefly with young Desi. He said he saw his father off and on and spends his summers as a rule at the father’s beach home at Delmar, south of Los Angeles. 

The youngster asked if I knew his grandfather Dr. Desiderio Arnaz who lives in Coral Gables.  (1)

But back to Lucy She’s telling us how many years it took to realize that as Lucille Ball she had attained V.I.P. status.

She reviews the years she spent trying to make it in show business, first on the stage, then as a model, and finally in the movies. Much of the time she says she stagnated. Until television came along. 

“I never had any sense of importance. I was very pliable always willing to do what I was told It wasn’t until one day I saw in print somewhere some actress described as a ‘Lucille Ball type’ that I knew suddenly I was somebody and a part of the business.” 

From there on the interview jumps from subject to subject. 

I ask her whatever happened to the project Dean Martin’s producer Greg Garrison had for starring Martin, her, and Jackie Gleason in a revival of the musical “Guys and Dolls.”  (2)

“I never said I would do it. Garrison kept publicizing it, but he never cleared it with me. I do still want to do ‘Diamond Jim’ with Jackie It’s just a matter of finding the time.” (3)

A lady editor wants to know how Lucy keeps her sinuous figure. 

“I don’t particularly like food. I’m not very fond of meat, for example, except in the morning.” 

Which brings a snort of disgust from her husband. “Can you imagine what it’s like to have to watch her eating corned beef or hamburger at 6 o’clock in the morning?” 

The questions now go to the children. What are Desi’s plans? Does he want to make acting his future? “I want to be an actor for awhile but I don’t think I ever want to be one certain thing.” 

Young Lucy, who, at 18, is two years older than her brother, is more sure of her future “I’ll go to college for awhile but I like acting. I’ll stay at it if I can.” 

Would she somebody asks join the campus protest and carry a sign? Only if it says ‘wet paint’ quips she. 

Lucy now introduces her cast veteran, Gale Gordon. He pays her extravagant compliments and talks a bit about his radio and early television days. 

The interview’s late arrival is venerable George Marshall, who is now the show’s director. Lucy introduces him as “our sexy senior citizen.” Marshall goes back to the dawn of movies and is filled with fascinating anecdotes about his years in the business. (4)

The conversation turns to TV’s talk shows. Somebody suggests to Lucy that she would be a highly likely guest for Merv Griffin’s new show starting on CBS Aug 18. (5)

Lucy's answer comes lancing back “That’s what you think. I don’t like him.” Which rocks everybody back. Why not? “Because he doesn’t know how to interview. He’s rude to his guests and he monopolizes the conversation.” 

She doesn’t wait for the next question. “I’m wild about Dick Cavett (on ABC) I think he’s great And I told Bill Paley (board chairman of CBS) he should have him on our network. But Bill said ABC got him first and we’re out of luck.” (6)

Everybody is suddenly distracted by three teen-age girl fans leaning over a fence way up front. They’re begging to be allowed on the grounds. Morton jogs forward to shoo them away. 

“This happens all the time,” says Lucy. “My God they used to picnic right in front of the house until our police department stopped them. Jimmy Stewart, who lives up the street, finally told me how to keep them away. Turn on the lawn sprinklers.” 

Morton returns and takes everybody for a tour of their luxurious but very lived-in home. Lucy tells us a funny story about how Jack and Mary Benny had once been their next door neighbors sold their home then asked her to try to mediate a re-sale of the place back to them. Then we take our leave.

#    #    # FOOTNOTES FROM THE FUTURE

(1) Dr. Desiderio Alberto Arnaz y Alberni II (1894-1973) was a Cuban politician and the father of Desi Arnaz. He graduated from the Southern College of Pharmacy in 1913 in Atlanta, Georgia. Desiderio Arnaz II was the youngest mayor of Santiago de Cuba (1923–32). When president Machado was overthrown in August 1933, Arnaz was arrested and jailed. Six months later, he was allowed to go into exile. He married Dolores "Lolita" de Acha y de Socias in 1916 and had one son, Desiderio "Desi" Arnaz III. He later had a daughter, Connie Arnaz (1932), with Anne M. Wilson, whom he married in 1941.

(2) Guys & Dolls was a 1950 stage musical by Frank Loesser, based on the stories by Damon Runyon starring Robert Alda, who appeared on several episodes of “The Lucy Show” and “Here’s Lucy”.  It was filmed by MGM in 1955. During that time, Lucy and Desi were also under contract to MGM, so they prevailed upon “I Love Lucy” to insert a clip from the film into “Lucy and the Dummy” (ILL S5;E3). After its initial airing on October 17, 1955, the clip was removed from the film print, and for legal reasons, has never been restored. It is unclear whether Garrison’s project with Martin, Ball, and Gleason would have been a film revival, or a stage production. Whatever it was to be, Lucy wanted to have no part of it, perhaps remembering the rigors of performing on stage in Wildcat (1960). During her film career, Ball was in two films based on Damon Runyon material, The Big Street (1942), a film she claimed as her favorite, and Sorrowful Jones (1949). She also did a radio version of Runyon’s “Tight Shoes” in 1942. Ball and Gleason would have been cast as Miss Adelaide and Nathan Detroit, while Dean Martin would have played Sky Masterson, the romantic lead. Those roles were played by Vivian Blaine, Frank Sinatra, and Marlon Brando in the film. Obviously, the project never came to be. 

(3) “Diamond Jim” was a project that Lucy dearly wanted to make with Gleason. He would play Diamond Jim Brady (1856-1917) to her Lillian Russell. Ball even went so far as to have a script written to further grab Gleason’s attention. Despite their best intentions, Gleason and Ball’s schedules never allowed for enough time to make the film. 

(4) George Marshall (1891-1975) had directed Lucille Ball in Valley of the Sun (1942) and Fancy Pants (1950).  He was considered an expert at location shooting, so when “Here’s Lucy” wanted to spend the first four episodes of Season 2 on location, Marshall was hired as director. He stayed on for seven more episodes of the sitcom before bowing out. 

(5) Despite Lucille Ball’s rather harsh public assessment of Merv Griffin (1925-2007) at this August 1969 press party, Ball appeared on “The Merv Griffin Show” four times between 1971 and 1980! During her first appearance, the aforementioned George Marshall was also a guest! 

(6) Lucille did seem to enjoy doing the talking to Dick Cavett, although she only got to do his chat show once, on March 7, 1974, in conjunction with her press tour for Mame. 

[asagi-s-garden]

WB is the worst when it comes to DC. It's no coindence that Constantine is leaving 'Legends of Tomorrow" in the wake of the upcoming HBO Max show. And this pandemic ruined a lot of plans. As you said "BL" wasn't meant to be in the Arrowverse put when it happened they were all gung-ho for it. They had plans for Jeff to visit Central City and for Anissa and Grave to chill in Gotham. But then the pandemic and whatever BTS drama that got "BL" canned. Like *something* happened. It got an early renewal in Jan then it was cancelled in Nov. And CW didn't even bother to have proper trailers for new episodes. Don't tell me somebody on the show didn't rub the network the wrong way to result in that level of pettiness

Yeah, WB isn't just the worst with DC, but really the worst with favoritism in my personal opinion

They tried so hard to make the DC streaming service a huge success but as soon as they saw it wasn't going to be they got rid of everything like it was on fire, HBO Max is the new golden child so they're cutting their own throats in other areas to make it succeed- IE: Theaters

My poor Suicide Squad 2 ;_; no I won't say "my THE Suicide Squad" it won't roll off the tongue it was a sacrificial lamb to the damn streaming service :(

I know it's an unpopular opinion to not be all over streaming but they're really clearly cutting way more than just corners in order to feed that specific beast and try to make it compete with Disney+, that's why they're starting to draw the string on the Arrowverse :/ The same thing happened, I think, with the DC streaming service though, when they saw that the biggest success of DC was the Arrowverse, they decided to pull their dying streaming service as well as the DCEU into it to pump the Arrowverse up more, now that the Arrowverse is starting to go under- with three shows being gone, Batwoman being in questionable territory, and the two biggest successes of the year being largely disjointed from it (Superman and Stargirl), I think they're going to try to scramble it like eggs :/ They're doing the same with the DCEU to a degree though, by having loosely connected stories that do more universe hopping and tone changes (IE: Joker coming out just months before Birds Of Prey and having been preceeded by Shazam!) I think since they're seeing more promise in that approach right now for the movies, they might be trying to do the same for TV- or they're just trying to let the Arrowverse die of neglect so they can pump up HBO Max like you said

Ofcourse now that WB has been bought by Discovery, we might get some big changes to this; Discovery already said they wanted to pour seven BILLION dollars into DC properties specifically in the first year alone, and I know the rumor is that they're only going to try to gloss up DC so that they can sell the assets to the highest bidders once their "probation" period ends but like.... seven billion is a hell of alot of gloss..... and if they can start pulling in more numbers like Joker, Superman & Lois, and The Suicide Squad (wich may have not been a huge hit at the box office but wich reportedly smashed the HBO Max numbers enough that WB is circling James Gunn like a starving shark), then I have a hard time believing they'd be wanting to get rid of it, especially when, let's face it, DC is easily the most well known and most marketable asset Discovery has ever had and probably ever will have purely because of Superman alone, you can't find a person anywhere who hasn't atleast heard of Superman, regardless of how much the film properties are hit-and-miss financially, I have a hard time believing anyone would just throw that kind of name power to the wolves....

But onto Black Lightning, I actually have a pretty strong theory about that one

I'm almost certain that China Anne McClain is why the show was canned

And do not get me wrong, I don't mean that in a snippy way, but China quit Black Lightning pretty urgently- to the point that she only wanted to do limited episodes for the final season

Backing up a moment here though, let me explain why I think this was the nail-in-the-coffin

Black Lightning was very quickly becoming centered around Lightning specifically

That doesn't mean to say that it wasn't still Jefferson's story and that Anissa wasn't still important, but Jennifer was getting set up to be The Powerhouse of the show, with the bulk of the drama probably surrounding her and the thought of her potentially taking on her father's mantel

It seemed like the idea of Black Lightning retiring or atleast putting on the suit a little less was starting to become a thing, and with Jefferson firmly accepting his daughters as part of the world of Metas at that point, that would have lead to Anissa and Jennifer taking much more of the spotlight than they had in the beginning- that's a natural progression of things, and although I actually prefer Anissa's storyline (it's just more my personal cup of tea), I will readily admit that Jennifer was the one who had the ability to carry an entire season's worth of story on her shoulders.... not so much Anissa, who has her wife (so romantic subplots are pretty toned down), her powers are developed and stable (nothing quite like the learning curves Jennifer was facing), she has a stable job and a stable superhero identity- two, in fact-, so no literal schoolyard drama or issues with "Am I in my father's shadow? Is this how the world sees me and do I want them to see me this way?" much like what Jennifer was starting to experience in the end of the show either

TLDR Anissa mostly had her shit together, wich is great for her, but it doesn't lend to being able to carry the most dramatic storylines like it does with Jennifer, who's still figuring out pretty much everything

I think Jennifer was already starting to take a very large amount of the story as of the last season and even starting to steal the spotlight before that, if they were to come back for more I feel like she would have been in a place of being much more obviously groomed to take on the main charector status wile Jefferson stepped back just a little bit to be more supportive to her journey instead of the other way around

And the show could still exist very much as Jefferson's story wile that story happened to center on Jennifer

.....Buuuuuuuuuuuuut that's where the problem comes in

China said before the show was cancelled that she was going to step down from playing Lightning because she wanted to focus on her faith more and be removed from anything that wasn't "in service to God", wich is totally fine for her, but it does put Black Lightning in a bit of a difficult position because the charector they were gearing up to make their breakout star was suddenly going to either have to pull a Winn and just... be.... gone.... or have to get recast

To be entirely honest, I'm not sure why they didn't stick with the recasting instead, I thought Laura Karuki did a fantastic job as Jennifer and the "Am I Jennifer or am I JJ?" story would have been a great thing to explore for an entire season, but if I had to guess, they maybe just didn't want to mess with it?

Black Lightning had good numbers but it wasn't in the top five or anything to my recollection, not since it's premiere season anyway, and it could have been a compound decision of "We weren't going to keep this up much longer anyway so let's just take this as a sign to wrap it up", although I think that the way the recast was done could have presented a stable option for them if they had decided to give it a go for a full season, although maybe that's just my opinion and they initially made the recast so that the people behind the curtain could see if Laura would work well enough as Jennifer and when they decided that the vibe wasn't right they went on ahead and pulled the plug rather than risk getting the same um... resistance.... than Batwoman met over their recasting choices

Although I could go on for days about why that situation is different (to be clear: I do like Ryan quite alot but I don't think the Batwoman situation was nearly as seamless as Black Lightning's in terms of recasts, but that's another story for another day)

TLDR I think if China had stayed aboard they would have gone on for atleast another season or two, but there are some shows where members of an ensemble cast are so essential that their leaving is too big of a blow to stay through

It's much like when Dylan O'Brien had to bow out of Teen Wolf for a little wile, I think you'd be hard pressed to find a fan who absolutely loved season six, and even before that people were having a hard time staying with a lack of Tyler Hoechlin, with some even stepping away when Crystal Reed left, even though- at both of those points- most of the core cast was still there and at no point did the titular main ever leave, I feel like Black Lightning's situation is very similar, people were just too invested in Jennifer

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the unseen one - 05

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: drinking

A/N: mentions of absinthe. fun fact, my parents favourite drink is absinthe and it is just awful (take it from me, your friendly non-drinking friend who had to drink it once during a friend’s wedding tradition) however i do feel like bucky would enjoy it, idk why. hope you like this chapter, lemme know.  enjoy xx

Next Chapter >>

Hecate rushed with James to Groves of Persephone. These grounds stood in the Elysium, the better part of the Underworld and Hades’ gift to Persephone once she became his wife. It was a beautiful place but even James had to be stunned by, at the height of its beauty it always had various flowers and plants flourishing by and climbing up the white marbled columns of Persephone’s resting place. After Persephone and the original god of Death disappeared from the Cosmos, the Grove became part of James’ possessions as lord of the underworld.

It was where the noblest of souls laid rest and James’ himself could not believe that the Groves of Persephone were part of the Underworld due to the its sheer beauty. However, once he stepped in, the once bright, flourishing, green and colourful themes that gave that place the beauty it did was disappearing. Most of the flowers were dead and some wild plants were breaking through the marbled floors leading to where Persephone and Hades used to lead. 

      - What happened? - James turned to look at the goddess of sorcery, hoping she was playing a trick on him.

     - The Groves are dying. - Hecate pointed at the brown coloured plants. - Is this your doing?

     - Well, yes Hecate. I decided to destroy the only surviving thing from Persephone that gives Demeter some solace.

     - I know you’re joking but it sounds like something you’d do.

     - Call Demeter and everyone else who’s a god of plants. Anthousai, Chloris even Gaia if necessary. This has to be fixed. - James turned on his back not wanting to deal with that right now. Demeter didn’t personally hate him, he hadn’t kidnapped his daughter. However, she thoroughly missed his daughter and has such would visit her Groves every once in a while and gave him the job of protecting Persephone’s jewels. If he destroyed any of those, he’d have to hide forever from the goddess or probably would be turned into a plant. He returned to his office, picking a few books and dumping them on his desk, trying to find a way to figure out what had happened.

The Groves had been tended to by Persephone in the past, with some of Hades’ books even describing it as her regular past time and where the throne room once sat, however, after their disappearance from the universe and James taking the throne, it became tended by the underworld nymphs, the Lampades, which followed Hecate in her night-time reveals and hauntings. He knew them to be extremely loyal to Hecate, more to her than to him, he also knew Hecate to pay her respects to the long gone goddess of spring so that meant the Lampades wouldn’t stop caring for the Groves. 

He spent most of the days going through the books and those letters which Hades used to write to Demeter about his daughter but nothing spoke of any issues with the Groves. 

    - Hades. - he raised his head from the books to see Demeter at the door. Demeter was always one of James’ personal favourite goddesses, mostly due to her demeanour. She was a tall woman, always with sun kissed skin, dressed in green soft fabric dresses covered by ivy plants which contrasted with her always perfectly groomed red hair which always had a crown of wheat placed upon it. Hecate used to say that along with Persephone, Demeter was one of the biggest oponnents to Aphrodite’s beauty. However, with the loss of the daughter and the continuing, ever lasting grief of her lost daughter, gods said the immortal goddess had allowed time to take its toll on her. Nevertheless, Demeter was a kind, fair and mature goddess, knowing exactly what to do and  when to do it. - Hecate has filled me on the occurrences. 

   - Any chances the Lampades might’ve forgotten to care for the Groves?

   - The Nature is dying even with care. Not sure why exactly, I can try and come a few times to tend for the nature. 

   - Any chance Persephone would’ve spoken about anything wrong with the groves in the past?

   - My daughter never really spoke with me after she was forced to leave her husband every year. 

   - I’m sure Persephone shared no hatred towards you. However, the groves are part of the Elysium, we cannot permit any death in the Elysium.

   - I’ll work with my nymphs personally and see what we can do. 

Meanwhile, Y/N hadn’t sleep throughout the day. After James had dropped her off and Anne had returned to her home she just couldn’t sleep so she spent most of the day with a bowl of strawberries by her side, cashmere blanket wrapped around herself as she read her book with the TV on for background noise. It was the weekend, she had mostly nothing to do expect checking her phone every few hours to check for any teachers’ emails, but even them didn’t text them on Saturdays.

She would have ended up her Saturday by falling asleep on her coach if it hadn’t been for Anne climbing through the window by the fire escape. Y/N titled her head up to see Anne in a satin blue dress, her regular unruly locks held behind with some star shaped pins.

  - We’re going out. - she said pushing the cashmere blanket away from her.

  - I don’t wanna go out. - Y/N groaned, cuddling against a pillow.

  - We can only go out on Fridays and Saturdays, since you spent Friday with tall, dark, and handsome, you owe me this.

  - Fine. - she got up from her coach, walking to her room to grab something deemed for going out. She ended up with open toe dark boots, high waisted jeans and a white blouse whose lower fabric she wrapped around her waist.

Anne always went to the same bar. The same old beat up bar that Y/N was 100% sure was more of a spot for drug vending, weird rituals and gang meetings than a bar, however Anne was sure that was the best place to be. The two girls walked into the bar, a weird, unknown tune playing in the background. There weren’t too many people inside, only 5 maximum. However, Y/N’s eyes immediately set on a man sat by the bar. James. She could recognise him anywhere.

   - Anne, I think that’s James. - she casually whispered to her friend, who very unceremoniously turned to check. - Be more discreet will you?

   - You gotta go there. 

   - No, I don’t wanna bother him. He’s alone here by a reason.

   - Now, you listen to me, Y/N. - she unbuttoned two of her friend’s blouse. - You go over there and you ask him for his phone number and you’ll only return once you have his contact name on your phone. 

   - Stop it. - she slapped her hand off but her friend only pointed in his direction: Y/N mumbled a few curses under her breathe, trying to button up the blouse in a manner which wasn’t so bed inviting. As she was about to tap him on the shoulder, he noticed her first.

    - Y/N, I didn’t fancy you one to enjoy these parts. - he spoke in his raspy voice tone. He sounded tired and Y/N wondered if like her he couldn’t sleep. 

   - It’s Anne’s favourite place in town. - Y/N took a place next to him in one of the worn out high chairs. She noticed the fancy cup containing green liquid he was holding. - What are you drinking?

   - Absinthe. 

   - Doesn’t absinthe cause hallucinations? - she furrowed her brow, still mildly interested in how green the beverage was. 

   - Wish it did. - he gestured to the bartender who brought another fancy glass and a nice silver spoon. She watched him prepare something before sliding it over to her. - Give it a try. 

   - Will I hallucinate?

   - Promise you won’t. - he lifted his own glass, cheering it up to her. Y/N downed a bit of the drink, finding it sickeningly sweet, almost like licorish iced tea. Something she didn’t know what to feel about. - I see you don’t like it.

   - It’s too sweet.

   - Sweet people normally don’t like sweet things. - he almost mumbled it under his breathe, but Y/N could hear it which made a heat cripple over her cheeks. 

   - You know, we normally have quite a few outings in my friend group. If you’d gave me your number, I could tell you when. - Y/N didn’t know exactly how to ask him for his phone number. She didn’t want to sound desperate, or too forward.

   - I’m afraid I don’t have one of those, sweetness. - she gave him a nervous smile trying not to show how the small rejection. - However, if you give me yours I can try to get in touch.

   - How would you get in touch without a phone?

   - I could get one or could use a pay phone.

   - That’s old school, don’t you think? - she grabbed one of the small napkins, scribbling her phone number on it and sliding it to him.

   - I like old school, sweetness.

   - I should get back to my friend. - Y/N scratched the back of her neck, noticing Anne waiting for her. 

   - I’ll speak with you later, Y/N.

   - Later, Bucky.

[westallenfun]

A Most Unexpected Love, Chapter 6

WestAllen secret santa gift  

From: @jade4813

For: @sophisticatedloserchick

Author Notes: For the lovely @sophisticatedloserchick from @jade4813! Merry Christmas, and I hope you like my first fic after a long hiatus!

Title: A Most Unexpected Love

Rating: PG

Synopsis: Iris has loved Eddie Thawne Allen her entire life. When she returns home just before Christmas, it looks like she might finally have a chance to catch his eye…unless an accident puts his older brother, Barry, directly in her path. Story inspired by Sabrina (with some quotes lifted more or less directly from the source material).

Chapters: 6/7

Chapter Six

Iris still loved Eddie.

If he’d thought about it, he would have realized that would of course be true. She’d loved Eddie all her life. She’d loved him when she was growing up, the entire time she was away at school, and upon her return. Twenty-four hours in Barry’s company was hardly likely to make a dent in such lifelong devotion.

But, still, the thought made him feel slightly sick inside. Iris loved Eddie.

And Barry? Barry loved Iris.

He didn’t know when it had happened. He couldn’t put his finger on the first moment he’d fallen for her. Maybe he’d fallen in love when her earlier that day, when the two were working together to make the most pitiful gingerbread house ever erected (or, rather, not) by man. Maybe it had been the night before, when she’d told him she saw him, or the night before that, when they danced under twinkling lights that shone like stars.

Maybe it had been earlier. When she was a sad girl of sixteen, trying to be brave through the pain and her heartache to be stuck with the wrong brother. Or before that, when the chauffer’s son once tried something he shouldn’t and she’d laid him out with a punch before Barry could even get two steps in her direction. When she raced across his back lawn on her bright red bike, pretending like she was a racer in the Grand Prix. When he’d taken her to see her first horse and her eyes had grown as large as saucers, as though it was the biggest thing she’d ever encountered in her life.

Maybe he’d loved her as long as she’d loved Eddie. And just as hopelessly.

Iris loved Eddie. She would be happy with him. And maybe she’d fooled herself into thinking she saw him now, but that was just an illusion. An illusion he’d created, maybe without intending to, because he’d told himself she deserved better. Better than to love a man who was engaged to someone else. Better than to spend her days in idle boredom while the man she loved recuperated. Better than to be loved and abandoned with diamond earrings and a bracelet as a consolation prize.

But that was selfish of him, to steal away her time like that. It was arrogant of him to assume his brother’s intentions were less than pure. After all, Barry knew Iris was the most incredible woman he’d ever known. Was it so far beyond the realm of possibility that Eddie had come to realize the same thing?

So what was standing in their way, other than him? Well, him and an engagement Eddie had accused him of orchestrating. He didn’t think he had, but maybe he was to blame. Maybe he’d put so much pressure on his brother to grow up, to be something he wasn’t, that Eddie had fallen into an unwanted engagement because he’d felt he had no other choice.

Well, Barry couldn’t fix everything. He couldn’t fix his own broken heart, for one. But he could fix this. The engagement was off. It would cost the company a pretty lucrative merger, but what did that matter? If it made his brother happy. If it made Iris happy.

Of course, there would be repercussions. The papers had painted an image of Eddie as that of a playboy without conscience. They had gleefully predicted that his engagement would never end in a wedding. He’d left a trail of broken hearts behind him; what was one more? A diamond ring was no talisman against his reckless romantic immaturity. When the news broke that their suspicions had been proven correct, they would tear his reputation apart. He would be eviscerated in the press, and Iris would be dragged down with him.

Unless she wasn’t here to see it. Unless Barry took control of the narrative, painting a picture of lovers who had been cruelly kept apart for far too long. By his family. Maybe even by him. The press already thought he was stoic and unfeeling; they could think him a villain too. For the sake of business, he’d kept the two apart and shoved his brother in the direction of another woman, and his plan had almost worked. Until Eddie’s reunion with Iris had brought all those old feelings back to the surface and they realized there would never be anyone else. Under those circumstances, there would be nothing they could do but run away from it all for a while. They would celebrate their reunion, the merger would fall flat, and Barry would play the part of interfering meddler who had come to accept the inevitable when confronted with true love.

But where should they go? Where did lovers go when they wanted to get away from it all? Ah, yes. Paris. The most romantic city on Earth. Iris had spoken fondly of visiting it once with her dad; he was confident she’d be thrilled to see it again.

Ignoring the pain in his chest, he picked up the phone and dialed his secretary. “Yes, Margaret? I’m going to need you to take care of some things. A trip to Paris. No, not for me. For – for Eddie and Iris. Iris Ann West. I’ll need two tickets to Paris for…ah…could we do the day after Christmas? For two weeks? No, at least a month. You know what? Maybe leave the return open-ended; we may need to play this by ear. They’ll need an apartment. Do you think you could find something with a fireplace? Paris gets cold in the winter, and Iris—” He broke off, hating the way his voice quivered with emotion at her name. Was he doing the right thing? Could he really do this?

Outside the door, he heard her soft laugh and the low murmur of his brother’s voice as they walked past. It was enough to remind him of his purpose and strengthen his resolve. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “She hates being cold…”

“Barry, you’re still here!” Iris greeted him brightly when she came into the kitchen to grab breakfast and a cup of coffee on the morning of Christmas Eve. Then, seeing the man at his side, she’d pulled up short and blushed slightly. “Oh. Good morning to you, too, Eddie. I-I didn’t realize you – You’re looking much better today.”

“I’m feeling much better,” Eddie acknowledged with a grin, stepping forward to take her hands in his. She didn’t pull away, but she did shoot a quick look at his brother over his shoulder. “I can move around a lot better now, so Barry suggested I join the two of you for breakfast. If you don’t mind.”

“No, of course I don’t,” she replied quickly, ignoring his attempt at mild flirtation.

Turning his back to the pair for a moment as he stepped around the other side of the kitchen island, Barry hid his scowl as he refilled his cup of coffee and poured a fresh cup for her. When he was confident his feelings were safely hidden once more, he turned back around and slid the cup across the island in her direction, followed immediately by the sugar he knew she always added to her morning cup. “Actually, there’s another reason I wanted you here. I got you an early Christmas gift. Both of you.”

“Both of us?” Iris repeated, confusion warring with curiosity in her tone.

Temporarily unable to speak through the swell of heartache that threatened to steal his breath, Barry nodded. “Yes,” he finally managed. “Two tickets to Paris. For, ah, for the two of you.”

Eddie looked like he’d been hit by a two-by-four right between the eyes, and Iris didn’t look much less confused. “The – the two of us?” she repeated, as though the words had inexplicably become incomprehensible to her.

“You’ll leave the day after Christmas,” he explained, pushing the envelopes he’d received by courier that morning across the island after the untouched cup of coffee.

“For how long?” Eddie asked, clearly trying to catch up.

He tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t come. He had to look away, hiding his grimace behind his mug as he took a sip of coffee to stall for time. Once he had regained control of himself, he looked back at his brother, meeting his eyes unflinchingly. “For as long as you both want.”

Beside Eddie, Iris visibly reacted, her head drawing back as though she’d been struck. His brother might not have mentally caught up with the conversation enough to understand what was going on, but she did. He was sending them away.

Of course, he’d assumed the news would make her happy, but maybe she was simply too surprised to know how to react. Or to understand that she was finally getting what she’d always wanted. She was getting the man she loved.

“I-I don’t…I thought you—”

“I’m sorry I can’t stick around to hang out the rest of the day,” he broke in, unable to bear the thought of her repeating whatever it is she was about to say. Hating himself because she looked wounded, though he told himself she would soon be overjoyed when the truth sank in. “I’ve had fun the last couple of days, Iris. Thank you; I really needed the break. But I’ve got to get back to work now.”

“But I—” she tried again. As though unable to look at him any longer, she glanced away, but when she looked back at him, her composure had returned. Tilting her chin up slightly, her voice was a challenge when she asked, “This is awfully sudden, Barry. It isn’t like you. I know you, remember?”

“If you don’t think this is like me, then maybe you don’t know me at all,” he countered in a soft voice.

Iris scowled, but she picked up her tickets and glanced at the names. Returning Eddie’s to the counter, she slid hers into her pocket and said brightly, “I suppose I should thank you. I’ve always wanted to see Paris again. If you’ll excuse me.”

She started to turn, paused, and then swept the discarded remnants of their failed gingerbread house into her arms, tossing them into the trash on her way out the door.

A long, uncomfortable silence fell between the two brothers in her absence, until Eddie finally broke it by asking, “Okay…do you want to explain to me what’s going on?”

“I’m cancelling the engagement,” Barry explained, dumping the rest of his coffee in the sink and rinsing out the cup. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I pushed you into it. It wasn’t right of me, and you shouldn’t have to pay for my mistake.”

His younger brother just stared at him, mouth agape. Finally, he managed, “You…okay.” Giving his head a slight shake, he asked, “Is this a joke? Are you messing with me?”

“No,” Barry replied firmly, grabbing Iris’s abandoned mug to rinse it out, as well. “It isn’t a joke. I want you to take Iris to Paris. You can stay there until…until everything dies down. Stay as long as you want! Just…be happy.”

Afraid he wouldn’t be able to conceal his feelings much longer, Barry tried to scoot past his brother, intending to walk out the door. But while Eddie wasn’t likely to be running any marathons any time soon, he was able to move fast enough to cut him off. “Wait. Just tell me…Iris was right. This isn’t like you. Why are you doing this?”

He scowled, dropping his gaze, and swallowed heavily as he fought back the tears. It didn’t work the first time, so he tried again. His second attempt seemed more successful than his first, but he suspected he still didn’t entirely mask his feelings, as his voice quavered slightly when he explained, “I screwed things up, but…but I can fix it. You don’t have to marry Patty. You can—” He broke off again, pressing his lips together to keep them from trembling.

After a moment, he urged his brother in an hoarse voice, “She’s loved you all her life. You’re what she really wants. You’re what she’s always wanted! Go on. Go to Paris. Forget about Patty, forget about the merger. Just…be happy. Make her happy.”

Something that almost looked like understanding dawned across his brother’s face. “I see,” he murmured softly.

Barry couldn’t bear it much longer, so he pushed past his brother and strode quickly out the door. Eddie and Iris would be leaving for Paris in two days, which meant they had a lot of packing to do. And Barry? Barry would always have work.