#Australian Mystery Writers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

astraystayyh · 9 months ago

Text

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation.

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand.

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you.

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure.

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth.

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head.

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh.

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.

He’s beautiful.

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips.

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice.

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly.

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support.

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.”

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display.

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within.

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.”

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you.

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants.

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being.

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back.

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers.

“Touché.”

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed.

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you.

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?”

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you.

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.”

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you.

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move.

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around.

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen.

One hour later

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight.

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back.

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind.

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

“You made them?”

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief.

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears.

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before.

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth.

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head.

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two.

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both.

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.”

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.”

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it.

ii.

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you.

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention.

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago.

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours.

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.”

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.”

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose.

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly.

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.”

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek.

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying.

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her.

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten.

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.”

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror.

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door.

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch?

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.”

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend.

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.”

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well.

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.”

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements.

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair.

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth.

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest.

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows.

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.”

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue.

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him.

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it?

Your facade cracks. His voice wins.

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.”

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years.

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly.

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris.

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture.

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp.

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours.

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?”

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

“I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

“I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

“You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

“I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

“Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him.

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night.

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter.

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head.

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.”

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not.

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly.

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back.

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.”

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near.

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly.

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near.

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay.

One week later.

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat.

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm.

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair.

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing.

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face.

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess.

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm.

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems.

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling.

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter.

“Will she be okay?”

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?”

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks.

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up.

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode.

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak.

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on.

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze.

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps, despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.”

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears.

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.”

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away.

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.”

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before.

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help?

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock.

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide.

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.”

“Can I read what you wrote?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart.

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago.

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?”

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.”

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?”

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.”

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes.

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.”

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away?

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own.

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch.

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.”

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin.

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close.

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?”

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.”

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing.

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you.

You wished to be the only one Chris liked.

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out.

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair.

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold.

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper.

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it.

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could.

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.”

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date.

iv.

You’re avoiding him.

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks.

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh.

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory.

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you.

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question.

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!”

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?”

“Okay!”

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner.

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him.

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm.

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile.

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly.

“What happened to connected Chris?”

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place.

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again.

you win.

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck.

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later).

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face.

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly.

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both.

It's her first time calling you mom.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently.

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

#skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids reactions #skz angst #skz fanfic #chan fluff #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz au

7K notes · View notes

f1amour · 2 months ago

Text

˖ ࣪ 𖥔 DAYLIGHT — OSCAR PIASTRI

[ social media au ]

pairing: oscar piastri x sainz!reader

face claim ★ paola_cossentino

authors note: this is all fiction not hating on any drivers purposely it is just for the story. thinking of making this a little series if anyone has any requests form this pairing send them my way <3

navigation | masterlist (coming soon)

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yourusername endless bubble baths with lover boy 🫧🤍

➥ view comments below

user1 they say carlos is the good looking one of the siblings but…y/n is a goddess, she wins

user2 it’s almost been a year PLEASE TELL US WHO IT IS

carlossainz55 i would to know as well please. also please block me when you post photos like this.

landonorris same

charles_leclerc same

maxverstappen1 same (i already know)

alex_albon same

user3 she’s been in a relationship for a year and her brother and friends are yet to know is CRAZY

alexandrasaintmleux can’t wait to see you next week!! (and lover boy too i guess🙄)

charles_leclerc YOU KNOW?! TELL ME PLEASE MON AMOUR

carlossainz55 she knows but you haven’t told your family?😔

yourusername can’t wait to see you 🫶🏼

yourusername replied to carlossainz55 the family knows except you…sorry hermano. you might purposefully crash into him on the track.

lilymhe gorgeous girl ✨💗

iamrebeccad carlos is freaking out now. you basically told him lover boy is on the grid😭

user4 i love how none of the guys know but all the wags know about lover boy

user5 PAUSE. LOVER BOY IS A DRIVER OMG.

─────────────────────────

After weeks of speculating who may be the mystery boyfriend of Y/n Sainz sister of Carlos Sainz Jr. it was revealed a few days ago that Oscar Piastri is the guy she has been going out with for almost a year now.

Y/n Sainz is known for her fashion icon status but most known for her songwriting skills collaborating with artists like Olivia Rodrigo, Harry Styles, Billie Eilish, Niall Horan, Sabrina Carpenter, Ariana Grande, and Taylor Swift. She has yet to release her own music but it has been teased that 2025 might be the year she finally shares her own musical talents.

Y/n Sainz, 25 and Oscar Piastri, 22 arrived to the Melbourne airport ahead of the Australian Grand Prix next week which is the McLaren’s driver home race.

It had become gossip around the paddock regarding who the mystery boyfriend of the youngest Sainz sibling could be as only a handful of drivers were single. Some had started speculating Lando Norris was her new beau seeing as he has a close relationship with her brother but that was shut down when Lando was asked about the rumor in an interview.

It then became a rumor that the mystery boyfriend was Williams driver Logan Sargeant as they had shared a few hugs in the paddock and were seen at the same restaurant at the start of this year. But he has then shut down that rumor confirming he is in a relationship already.

Others started speculating Y/n was seeing Lance Stroll after he left a few likes and comments on her most recent provocative posts. Y/n was the one to shut the rumor down with a simple “lol. no.” on a comment left by a fan asking if she was dating the Aston Martin driver.

Fans started speculating the fashionista & song writer was back with her ex boyfriend, NBA player Devin Booker. They were in a long term relationship for 5 years but were constantly off and on. Fans believed Y/n was making up a cover story so everyone could focus on the drivers of Formula One and who she may be dating out of all of them instead of the fact she got back with her ex.

Y/n’s team refused to comment on the last rumor. The pair did not finish on the worst terms but not in the best either and have tried their best to avoid each other at any events they attend.

Now to the one who was not expected on this rumor mill up until now: Oscar Piastri. The 22 year old had shared his crush on the girl since being a reserve driver for Alpine in 2022. He even follows a few fan pages of the girl and was always one of the first people to like her posts.

Everyone teased him about it and still did during the 2023 season which was when he started dating the youngest Sainz. Y/n has shared a few moments with the McLaren driver but nothing that would alarm anyone into thinking they were seeing each other.

MORE ARTICLES BELOW…

Y/N SAINZ SPOTTED WITH OSCAR PIASTRIS FAMILY ON A DAY OUT AT THE BEACH

CARLOS SAINZ SEEN CHASING OSCAR PIASTRI AROUND THE PADDOCK

Y/N SAINZ AND OSCAR PIASTRI MAKE PADDOCK DEBUT

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liked by yourusername, nicolepiastri, charles_leclerc, mclaren, landonorris, and 457,385 others

oscarpiastri thanks for all the birthday wishes 🎉 special thanks to the gorgeous girl supporting me throughout this race weekend and for the rest to come. i love you to the moon.

tagged — yourusername

➥ comments below…

user1 ITS OFFICIAL OMG

user2 “for the rest to come” they are endgame.

carmenmmundt my favorite couple. happy birthday, oscar!

yourusername my favorite person. forever thankful to you. we would not be here if you didnt set us up that night lol

oscarpiastri thank you, like my star said we’ll forever be thankful to you setting us up

user3 “my star” HES DOWN SO BAD. also carmen set them up?! i love this so much

landonorris happy birthday mate!

yourusername just realizing your poster comes out in the last picture 🤨

landonorris even in photos i will thirdwheel 😌

yourusername i tried adding 23 candles but they said it could create a fire hazard. loser mclaren 😡

oscarpiastri we can have a redo at home anything you want

mclaren we have to keep our papaya queen safe✨

landonorris thought that was me 🥲

yourusername you’ve been replaced 😙

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liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmmundt, carlossainz55, landonorris, nicolepiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, and 1,495,538 others

yourusername my lover boy. my sunshine. my daylight. my world. my home. my safe space. all in one. getting set up on a date that we thought was meant to be a group dinner only to arrive at the same time expecting to see our friends but ended up just being you and i all night. it will be my favorite date ever. to know you is to know what love is and to have found a best friend in a lover. you are mine, my sunshine. te amo, oscar🏹☁️🤍🧸

tagged — oscarpiastri

➥ comments below…

user1 1m likes in 5 minutes is CRAZY. oscy/n nation has take over 😌

user2 she made him a playlist of songs that make her think of him AND RELEASED A SONG SHE WROTE AND SUNG. Y/N SINGING DEBUT!!!

user3 she wrote him a song?! what is it called?

user2 daylight! it’s the most romantic song she has ever written. give it a listen trust me you won’t regret it user3

alexandrasaintmleux my favorite couple 💗

liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri

charles_leclerc collab when?

yourusername when and where?😌

lilymhe so happy the guys will stop annoying us to tell them who the bf was

alexalbon yeah i won’t ever get over all the girlfriends and wives knowing about this but not us 🤨

georgerussell63 same

pierregasly same

maxverstappen1 same (again i already knew)

lewishamilton jokes on everyone i caught them making out behind the mclaren motorhome last year, they said i was the first one to know

nicolepiastri thank you for reciprocating his crush on you😂 the family loves you and how great you two are together 💕

yourusername had to make his dream come true🤷🏻‍♀️ thank you for raising an amazing son! i love you and the rest of the piastri family 🫶🏼

carlossainz55 he really makes you happy…

yourusername he really does. it’s all you ever wanted for me, right? i’m not a little girl anymore, carlos. you don’t have to protect me anymore

carlossainz55 i’ll always protect my hermanita but…i can see how much he cares about you. and how much he loves you. i’ll stop chasing him like a mad man around the paddock…for now.

landonorris good. poor lad was starting to almost pass out after he would escape you😂

oscarpiastri my greatest gift i have received is you (and deylight) my pretty girl, i’m forever going to love you until we are old and wrinkly and until our last day on this earth. i will love you in all other universes. thank you for loving me. the love of my life, you are my love and life

yourusername making me cry, osc☹️ hurry up and get to the hotel so i can kiss you

#f1 amour works #oscar piastri #oscar piastri drabble #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri social media au #oscar piastri x reader

869 notes · View notes

glossglamour · 8 months ago

Text

Full Robert Sean Leonard 'House'-a-palooza Interview: "As we know, I’m straight, but yeah, it’s like, homina homina homina."

May 01 2006 | By Maureen Ryan

Do you watch the show much?

"I can't watch it. I mean, Hugh doesn't watch it because he's anal and … eight years old. [laughs] And by the way, I don’t buy it, I think he does watch it.

“I watched in the first year. We live in New York and [my fiancé] was in California] and she likes it because I’m on it. But then she left, she had to come back to New York, and what are you going to do? The idea of me watching myself on TV, alone in Santa Monica, was just about... just short of, like, a bottle of Maker’s Mark and a shotgun away from shooting myself. [much laughter] So I haven’t watched it all season. But when I have watched it, I’ve been mildly confused and Hugh is appropriately grumpy."

I have this theory that a lot of my favorite shows aren’t even about what they’re supposed to be about -- they have to be set in a hospital or police station or outer space or whatever because the network can market that, but they’re secretly not even about that. Like, “House” is really about ethics and morality.

“Yeah, sure, I think that’s true.”

But you can’t pitch that show to the network. “Hey, we have this great show that examines personal morality!"

“‘It’s based on “A View from the Bridge.”’

Right! They’re really going to for that.

“Yeah. [laughs] I think it’s good, and when it’s right, when the show works, the mystery works. It has a Sherlock Holmes-ian feel to it, and you do kind of want to know what’s wrong with [the patients]. And it is interesting, the turns and twists that get you there. And there’s always a little bit of character-driven fun stuff in between, of who these people are and how they affect each other. And that’s it at its best. And I guess that could be true of any show.

“It’s tricky, you’ve got a lead character [who’s different from the TV norm] and you’ve got to be careful because those characters can be one-note. He’s the cranky guy, he’s the Australian guy, I’m the friend in one or two scenes a week. You just have to be careful, and I think we are, we have a really great team of writers. And the numbers are building, people are watching.”

So this two-parter on May 2 and 3, I think the unofficial subtitle is the “Festival of Foreman.” I guess they’re his Emmy episodes, and that’s fine. But you’re hardly in them, what’s up with that?

“Honestly, I’m okay. I don’t want an Emmy. This is what I want -- I know exactly what I want. I did play with a guy named Skip Sudduth, ‘The Iceman Cometh,’ seven years ago. I saw him five years later, and I said, ‘Geez, Skip, where have you been? I don’t see you at readings anymore.’ He said, ‘I’ve been on “Third Watch.”’ It sounded familiar but I’d never seen it. He said, ‘I’ve been doing it for five years.’ I said, ‘Holy crap!’ And he was back doing theater. That’s my dream.

“And it’s happening. I walk down the street and people say, ‘Where are you?’ and I say, ‘I’m on this show called “House.”’ My friend Lewis Black [from 'The Daily Show'] said, ‘What is it called? “Head”?’

“I’m okay. I’ve never been happier than where my career is now. And I don’t want it to change necessarily. Money’s good, and I’m glad I’m getting that, and I’m putting it away for later in life when I do more Tom Stoppard plays at Lincoln Center and make no money. But really, I’m great. I don’t mind working two days a week.

“Because those other guys, the Scooby gang, or the Mod Squad -- they are at that studio for 16 hours a day saying ‘tachycardia, lupus, blablahdeblah.’ Honestly, I’d kill myself if had to do those scenes for that long. I’m very happy with the size of my role, I don’t want it to get any bigger. I’m happy.”

So we won’t see the very special “House” episode where Dr. Wilson almost dies?

“That might be how I get off the show.” [laughs]

Well, you could die and come back as a ghost. Then it would be the “House Whisperer.”

“Yeah [laughs]. The hair makeup people were saying one day, ‘Oh, I love those scenes with you and Hugh, there should be more of that.’ And I’m like, ‘Shhh! Don’t say that!’ I’m the luckiest man in Hollywood. I work only with Hugh, pretty much, who’s great. And I work two days a week.”

Do you fly back and forth to New York then?

"No, not really. They don’t let me because they need me around, the schedule changes so much. I’m going to try to get away with that a little more [in the upcoming season]. Now that [my fiancé] is here, I really will kill myself if I’m out there as much as I was last year, without her.”

So five days a week you’re doing what – Botox injections? Going to the mall? Watching “Maury”?

“Rob Lowe once said the secret to being an actor in L.A. is sleeping as late as you possibly can and going to be as early as possible. I remember him saying, ‘I recommend pajamas by 4:30 p.m.’”

What’s interesting about this show is that they’re taken something that could be a very formulaic procedural and quite often turn it on its head.

“I didn’t know anything about TV, I’d never done [a TV show], but I now know very well that there are procedurals and character-driven shows. ‘Law & Order’ is a procedural and ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ is a character-driven show. The test [as to which category a show is in], someone once said to me, which I thought was hysterical, is this question: Did Sam Waterston sleep with [the assistant DA] on ‘Law & Order’? If the answer is ‘I don’t give a [hoot], I want to know the next element of the case,’ then it’s a procedural.

“Our show is weirdly, and there must be precedent for this, but it’s weirdly equally both. I think it’s very much a procedural, and without that sick patient every week, we wouldn’t work. And without the character stuff it wouldn’t work. And weirdly, people do care if House sleeps with one of our characters, and also care equally what’s wrong with this person and how they’re going to solve the case.”

I guess I like the character stuff better, but you’re right, it probably wouldn’t work without the suspense of the weekly case and somebody being critically ill.

“No, I think you need that. I think the echoes of Sherlock Holmes are too strong. The original idea of the show was House and Wilson, like Holmes and Watson. But it got away from that, and his team is Watson, if you want to be technical about it.

“I’m more like … the only way I’ve found to define it, and it’s so pretentious that it makes me want to jump out a window, is like King Lear’s fool. I’m like the only one who tells him the truth. And [Wilson] has nothing to lose. I don’t work for him and he doesn’t work for me. I’m the only character who chooses to be with him as opposed to being there because of a job. And because of that I have the freedom to tell him what I think. Not that Cuddy holds back much.”

I think her role is to say, "No! Bad House!"

“Have you talked to Lisa Edelstein [who plays Cuddy]? She’s so great. This Japanese woman once said to her, ‘You on “ER”!’ And she said, ‘I have been on “ER,” but now I’m on “House.”’ And [the woman says] ‘Oh yes, “House.” You say, “No, you don’t!”’ Every time we do the table read, I burst into laughter at some point, because there is the voice of that woman in my head, ‘You say “No, you don’t!”’ That’s the entire definition of Lisa’s character. Not completely, but we laugh [about it]. We have the same dilemma. We’re on this show that we’re … kind of on. Crew members say, ‘How long have you been on the show?’ ‘Uh, since the pilot.’ They really don’t know what we’re doing there.”

So in terms of the other stuff going on in your career, that’s going well, all the theater stuff?

“I’ve achieved everything I wanted to do. When I was growing up, I wanted to be Kevin Kline, Sam Waterston. I grew up watching the Public Theater and Shakespeare in the park and Marion Seldes. I mean, I may as well be gay.”

I’m not entirely sure you’re not.

[laughs] “But the thing is, I got it [i.e. his goals]. I’ve done 14 Broadway shows and got a Tony award, and now I’m making money and no one even really knows. I’m getting away with murder. If I come back to New York in two years and nothing’s changed, I’ll be thrilled. All I really want to do is [act in] plays, play with my dog, have kids. My desires are pretty simple. I don’t really want to do movies anymore. I’m pretty tired of camera acting.”

Why are you tired of camera acting? Is it the repetition of it?

“No, no, quite the opposite. We don’t rehearse enough. We do scenes where people barely know their lines, where people just about know their lines. In theater, you do it so many times and you get so familiar that then you can actually start having fun with it. And I really miss that feeling.

“It’s true of films too. I don’t know. I think I’m fine on film, but … I have walked offstage and thought, ‘Wow, no one has done that better. People may have done it as well, but not better.' I’ve actually had that feeling after ‘Long Day’s Journey Into Night,’ or a Shaw play or whatever. I’ve never felt that way with film. I always feel like, ‘Boy, Donald Sutherland would have done that a lot better.’ [laughs] I just don’t think it’s what I do best. I think I’m fine, but there are people who are eerily good at it. In all humility, of which I have none [laughs], that’s how I feel about my work on stage. I really do feel that I’m gifted at it.”

Just to change gears completely, what happens in the finale?

“Well, I think the finale is a bit of a cliffhanger. Something very exciting happens. It’s extremely exciting and freaky and I think it’s great. I can’t say what it is. You end this season very curious about how the next season is going to start. It’s a great final show and a big cliffhanger.”

So it seems like Hugh Laurie is so disparaging of his own talents. But he’s so good as House.

“Some people ask me, ‘Oh, why does Wilson want to hang out with House so much?’ and I’m like, ‘You idiot.’ [laughs] House is designed to be attractive! He’s brilliant, he’s self-deprecating, he has a limp. But yeah, Hugh hates himself and he’s very funny about it. There’s no better combination in my book. Like Lewis Black.”

But as an acting partner, he’s good to work with?

“Oh yeah. The thing is, with this part, Hugh has a huge obstacle he has to deal with, having an American accent. His problem isn’t our problem. We as the audience don’t have that problem, because what he doesn’t know is that he does it perfectly. But of course he doesn’t hear that. That’s why he can’t watch the show.

“When you’re doing an accent, you don’t feel like you’re interesting in the role. Even if everyone around is telling you that you are. And to be in a play is one thing, but to be on TV show that runs for years, I don’t know how he’s going to do it. To be that hard on yourself and be that disappointed in your own work. But as I said, and underline this four times, he’s wrong.”

And then he obviously hates when anyone calls him a sex symbol. You read his quotes when people ask him about that stuff and you can feel the embarrassment rising off the page.

“Yeah, he hates that stuff. And even more than the ‘sexy’ stuff, he hates the ‘you’re brilliant’ stuff. Of course there’s a part of him that likes him, there’s a part of all of us that likes that. [But him being hard on his performance], it’s not false vanity.

“I think Hugh does work he’s proud of and does work he thinks is good, I’m just not sure it’ll ever be this [show]. Having an accent… acting is letting go and forgetting yourself, it’s the opposite of ego. It’s flying away and getting away from yourself and forgetting. And when you’re doing an accent, it’s virtually impossible to do that.

“It’s hard when you're in a play, doing the same lines, the same way for eight months. Hugh learns 72 new lines a day and has to put an American accent on them. It really is an actor’s nightmare. I’ve done [with accents] Brian Friel plays, Martin Sherman plays, Tom Stoppard plays, and maybe five months into it you have a night where you kind of feel OK and kind of forget the accent and let go and let the scene happen. To have a strange accent in your mouth while playing a role, and then be judged for it, that’s hard stuff.

“And can I tell you, when you have dinner with Hugh Laurie [speaking in his real accent]… I miss that voice.”

Yeah. He called me once directly for an interview. I was expecting the publicist to put him through, but it was just that voice on the phone. I was sort of thrown for a minute.

“As we know, I’m straight, but yeah, it’s like, homina homina homina.” [laughs]

---- [source (part 2)] | part 1 | part 3 ---

it took me two hours to track this interview down. it might be the longest one he's ever done. first i tracked it down to tumblr pages posting about it with no source please stop doing that. then i found a short youtube video of laurie saying "homina homina" on an snl skit i think and someone in the comments mentioned the site where the rsl interview was posted. however the site wouldn't let me in, i guess they took it down so i headed to archive dot org. i didn't have a specific link though so that didn't really work out either. then for nearly an hour i tried a wide range of word combinations on google until i stumbled upon a livejournal page of rpf hugh laurie/rsl fanfic. SOMEONE tysm karaokegal posted the exact link i was looking for in the comments. quick trip to the wayback machine and here you go!

i should be on those ethical hacking competition things

#house md #hatecrimes md #gg.txt #robert sean leonard #rsl #interview #source hunting success #hugh laurie #james wilson #gregory house #i nearly went insane #trying to find this thing #part 3 is an interview w katie jacobs #part 1 is general quotes #muted

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37sommz · 1 month ago

Text

❁ : l'amour de ma vie . . .

✼. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: fluff. ✼. wc: 6k.

as much as michaela adores her sister, courtney, it's hard to find joy in leaving the year behind when courtney's love life is coming home for the first time. the new year brings michaela old friends in a brand new package.

✼. warnings: general language warnings. people in love.

✼. notes: look at me being consistent. she's a writer (for real this time!!) this one was genuinely so fun to write. don't know if courtney & daniel are endgame but it might be a cute little side plot for future storylines. literally sat at my computer googling 'what do australians eat' before giving up :)

000.⠀⠀DECEMBER 31, 2020 › Gold Coast, Australia.

The Sommers' kitchen of their Gold Coast home, was aflutter with movement. Michaela's hands moved swiftly as they chopped vegetables for the New Years' Eve party. The room filled with the aroma of marinating meats and baking cookies, a contrast to the typically aroma-less existence Michaela lived in her Turin apartment. She felt a gentle warmth spread through her, a comfort she hadn't experienced in a long time. Her mother, Miriam, hummed a song Michaela couldn't recognize while stirring a pot of chili on the stove, occasionally adding a pinch of this or that from the spice rack.

Courtney, phone clutched tightly in hand, couldn't contain her excitement as she danced around the kitchen island. Her laughter was high-pitched and infectious, causing even the stern-faced Miriam to crack a smile. "Okay, okay," Courtney said, her thumbs typing away on the screen, "He's definitely on his way. Should be here any minute."

Michaela, her knife hovering over a cucumber, raised an eyebrow. "Who is this mystery boyfriend that's got you all giddy?" she teased.

Courtney giggled, her cheeks flushing. "You'll see," she sang, sidestepping her sister's question.

Michaela couldn't resist the bait. She set down the knife and leaned closer, curiosity piqued. "Is he from around here? Did you swipe right on some guy who got rich after high school?"

Courtney rolled her eyes dramatically, her thumbs still tapping out messages. "Don't be nosy Mick," she hummed, her smile still embedded upon her face.

Miriam, noticing the playful banter between her daughters, decided to join in on the bit. "She's been like this all week, Michaela," she said with a knowing smile, "It's like watching a teenager fall in love all over again."

Michaela's curiosity grew. Courtney had always been the more serious of the two of them, her Master's Degree in Chemistry from the University of Sydney was proof enough of the trait. So, the thought of her sister being swept off her feet was both thrilling and slightly concerning.

"You're not bringing an eshay home again are you, Courtney?" Ella asked, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth as she correctly used the Australian slang.

Ella Marshall had been Michaela’s closest friend since she was a teenager. The Brit was a classmate of Michaela’s when she first moved to England and they had stuck by each other’s side ever since. They didn’t get to see each other often with Michaela’s racing travels and Ella’s pursuit of her public relations degree, so the chance to share New Years’ together in Michaela’s childhood home was a welcome one.

Courtney rolled her eyes again, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth before flipping her younger sister’s friend off. Miriam scolded her daughter with a disapproving look, turning around just as Ella returned the gesture with one of her own.

The front door swung open and in stumbled their father, Tobias, with their uncle Travis and his wife Beena close behind, lugging a suitcase that was practically bursting at the seams. Quentin, their two-year-old son, was perched on Travis' shoulder, his eyes wide with excitement at the sight of all the new faces and smells.

"Look who decided to join us," Miriam said, her voice a mix of surprise and warmth as she wiped her hands on a dish towel and approached her brother-in-law and his wife. She kissed them each on the cheek before taking a suitcase from Travis' hand. "You're just in time to help set up."

Travis, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, looked over at his wife and son. "It's a miracle we made it," he said, setting Quentin down gently on the tiled floor. "This little rascal had us chasing him around Heathrow."

Michaela couldn't help but laugh. "Sounds like he's got the racing gene," she quipped, winking at her young cousin. Quentin giggled and ran towards her, his chubby legs moving at a surprisingly fast pace for his age. She scooped him up in her arms, feeling the weight of his pure joy, and spun him around. As they twirled, she felt the stress of her breakup and the looming season melt away.

Travis, his Australian accent thick despite years away in London, nodded in agreement. "He's a little terror, that one," he said with a proud smile. "But we wouldn't have it any other way." Beena, ever the perfectionist, picked away the lint from her husband's shirt as he pulled her into his side.

Michaela felt a pang of nostalgia, looking at the love between her uncle and his wife, and the easy conversation between her parents. Her thoughts drifted back to Olivier, and she couldn't help but feel the easy nostalgia turn to sadness. Their breakup had been mutual, but the ringing in of the New Year made it feel much more final. Hearing the boisterous laughter of her cousin as he bounced between adults, she pushed the feelings aside, focusing on the laughter and chaos that filled the home.

"Courtney, can you grab the drinks from the fridge?" Miriam called out, her eyes never leaving her cooking.

"On it," Courtney said, separating from her phone for the first time since Michaela had arrived home hours ago.

Michaela took a moment to study her sister. Courtney had always been beautiful, with their mother's sharp features and their father's warm hazel eyes, but there was something different about her. A lightness in her step and a twinkle in her eye.

"I don't know what's gotten into her," she whispered to Ella as she planted a kiss on Quentin’s cheek, "But she's gone a little crazy, hasn't she?" Ella could only hum in response as she found herself caught up in entertaining the toddler in her friend’s arms.

Quentin giggled and leaned into Michaela, wrapping his arms around her neck. His chubby fingers played with the ends of her hair as she spun him around again, the room becoming a blur of color and laughter. As they stopped, Courtney reappeared, her phone glued back to her hand. Quentin reached out for the older of his pair of cousins, Michaela swiftly handing him over to her smiling older sister.

"So, what's the secret?" Travis asked, his gaze bouncing between Courtney and her phone. "I haven't seen you be this excited for anything ever." Beena looked over at the chemist with her husband's words, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Michaela's eyes narrowed as she watched her sister's reaction. Courtney's cheeks flushed as she avoided eye contact with everyone, her giggle turning into a full-blown laugh. "You're all going to find out soon enough," she teased, her fingers poking at Quentin's full cheeks, receiving his loud giggles in return.

Travis glanced back at his wife, exasperated, as she chuckled in amusement. "Boyfriend?" She questioned out to Tobias who could only nod with a dramatic roll of his eyes. "She won't tell us who he is."

Michaela's curiosity was piqued even further. "Why not?" She asked, handing her father an iced tea before huffing loudly as she dropped down onto the couch next to him.

Courtney looked at her with a smug expression. "Because it's more fun this way," she replied, bouncing Quentin on her hip as she walked out of the kitchen, her phone chiming.

Michaela watched her go, feeling a mix of amusement and annoyance. Her mind raced with the possibilities of who this mystery man could be. "It better not be anyone I know," she murmured to herself.

"What was that, sweetheart?" her father asked, turning to her with a smile.

Michaela's cheeks heated. "Nothing," she said, sipping her tea to cover her embarrassment.

She didn't want to admit her fear that Courtney might be dating someone from the paddock, someone who could complicate their lives even more than they already were. But she couldn't shake the feeling that her sister's more frequent "innocent" trips to see her sister's races were not so innocent after all. Courtney had never particularly enjoyed the smell of burning rubber or the high-speed crashes that Michaela seemed to be enamored with.

The sound of a car engine approaching the house echoed through the house and Courtney's eyes lit up brighter than they had been all day. "He's here!" she squealed, bouncing an overjoyed Quentin on her hip before bolting to the door.

Michaela felt a strange mix of excitement and nerves. She had no idea who Courtney could be bringing home, but she knew her sister's taste was much different from hers. Courtney took off towards the driveway with her cousin still resting on her hip. Beena began to call after the excited 26-year-old but was quickly soothed by her tired husband.

"Let them have their fun," Travis said, his eyes never leaving his wife as he spoke.

Michaela nodded, taking in the warmth of the room as the anticipation grew. The engine grew louder until it was right outside the door, and she couldn't help but lean over the couch to get a peek through the window. She couldn't quite make out the identity of the tall figure with a dark mop of hair as he opened the door of his sleek G-Wagon. Her heart swelled for a moment as she watched him scoop up Courtney in a loving embrace that calmed Michaela's nerves. He turned to introduce himself to the suddenly timid toddler nestled in Courtney's arms, reaching out to lift him from his girlfriend's hip. Michaela felt the tension melt away from her shoulders. It was clear this guy—whoever he was—intended to treat Courtney and her family with kindness.

As Courtney and the mystery man made their way back into the house, the chatter grew more intense. The man looked up, catching her eye, and a jolt of recognition shot through her. It was Daniel Ricciardo. Her eyes widened and she sat up straight, her heart racing as she took in the sight of her sister's new love interest. Daniel was a friend, sure, but also a rival on the track. They had always maintained a close friendship, but the sight of him with Courtney was surprising to say the least.

"No fucking way," Michaela whispered under her breath as Daniel's eyes locked onto hers, the surprise etched deep into her features. She had seen the Australian driver in many different lights—behind the wheel of a Formula 1 car, in the media spotlight, and even at a couple of awkward dinner parties their teams had thrown—but never as a potential brother-in-law.

“Is that Daniel?” Ella trailed off, her almond eyes tracing over the tall figure and his dark hair.

Her father and his brother shared in Michaela's surprise, their eyes widening in recognition. Daniel had been a household name for the Sommers family, as every Australian driver before him had also been. But seeing him here, in their home, holding Quentin in his arms and he exchanged a sustained kiss with Courtney, was something none of them had expected.

The three finally made their way to the front door, Courtney swinging it open with an air of carefree happiness in her actions. Michaela felt the air leave the room as Daniel stepped into the house, Quentin in his arms, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Hi, everyone," Daniel said, his Australian accent thick and familiar. He looked around the room, his eyes lingering on Michaela before he nodded a greeting in her direction. "Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and all that jazz." He held Quentin easily in his right hip, his left hand balancing a six-pack of Tobias' favorite beer and a bouquet of Miriam's favorite flowers.

Miriam was the first to recover from the shock, a smile spreading across her face as she stepped forward to take the gifts. "Thank you, Daniel, you didn't have to," she said warmly, her eyes flickering between Courtney and Daniel, trying to gauge the depth of their relationship from his gesture.

"Couldn't resist," Daniel said, winking at Quentin, who was now playing with his dark curls hair.

Michaela's brain was racing. Courtney and Daniel? She had known that Daniel had a soft spot for her sister, but she had never seen it manifest into anything more than casual flirting and banter at the races. The sight of him holding Quentin and the ease with which he slipped into their family setting was surprisingly natural.

"Well, look who the cat dragged in," Travis said, his voice booming with a mix of surprise and good-natured teasing. Daniel let out a light-hearted chuckle as he carefully placed Quentin on the ground. He then warmly accepted the greeting, firmly clasping hands with Travis in a traditional masculine gesture. As they greeted each other, Travis gave a friendly pat on the back to the Renault driver.

"You alright, mate?" Daniel asked the day trader, a member of Michaela's family he had gotten to know quite well over two years.

Michaela felt a knot in her stomach as she watched Daniel interact with her family members. He greeted Beena, a respectful kiss to her cheek as he casually recalled the editorial she had been working on the last time he saw her in Silverstone. When he greeted Michaela's father with a firm handshake, Tobias brushed it off, drawing him into a quick hug instead.

"Welcome to the madhouse," he said, his gruffness belying the affection he had for the younger more.

Michaela felt a strange mix of emotions—shock, curiosity, and a hint of protectiveness for her sister swirling in her gut. Courtney had always been the brainy one, the one who never stepped a toe out of line. To see her with someone like Daniel, a man who lived life as if it were a continuous party, was unsettling. But as she watched the way his eyes lit up when he talked to her sister, she couldn't deny the genuine connection between them.

"So, you two are..." she began, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words.

Courtney beamed, her eyes sparkling. "Dating," she said, her voice filled with a giddiness that was unusual for the typically composed woman. Michaela's eyes nearly twitched as she watched her sister's manicured fingers reach for her boyfriend. Courtney leaned into the Perth native with a lovesick expression on her face, one hand wrapped around his bicep and another resting proudly atop his chest.

The room was silent for a moment, the only sound was the sizzling of meat on the stove and the distant pop of fireworks. It was Miriam who broke the silence. "Well, it's about time you told us," she said, her voice filled with a motherly warmth. "We've been waiting for you to bring home someone special for ages."

Courtney blushed, looking down at the floor, while Daniel's grin grew wider. "It's been a bit of a whirlwind," he admitted, glancing down at Courtney who was now clutching his hand tightly. "But she's worth every second of it."

Michaela couldn't argue with that. Her sister looked happier than she had seen her in years. The way Courtney leaned into Daniel, the way he looked at her with such affection—it was clear this was more than just a casual fling.

"Well, come on in," Miriam said, breaking the silence with a warm smile. "Let's get you something to drink."

Michaela couldn't help but watch as Daniel stepped further into the house, his arm casually draped around Courtney's waist. She had seen him charm sponsors, journalists, and fans alike with his easy-going manner, but this was different. This was personal, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

As Miriam led the way back into the kitchen, the sound of her sandals clicking on the tiles, Daniel looked over his shoulder at Michaela. "Surprise," he mouthed with a wink.

Michaela felt her cheeks heat up as she nodded, still processing the revelation. Courtney had always been the more cautious of the two, and to see her so openly affectionate with someone was a shock. As they all moved back into the kitchen, she couldn't help but feel a bit like an outsider in her own home. The conversation between her family and Daniel grew more relaxed as they discussed the couple's relationship, leaving her feeling slightly left out.

"I'll be right back," she murmured to her father, who simply nodded with a gentle squeeze to her shoulder, and Ella whose attention was planted firmly on the surprised couple. Michaela excused herself from the room, needing a moment to collect her thoughts, to make sense of the new dynamics that were unfolding.

Michaela stepped out onto the porch, the balmy Gold Coast evening air wrapping around her. The scent of barbeque and chlorine from the neighbor's pool mingled with the distant smell of the ocean, reminding her of childhood summers spent at this very house. She leaned against the railing, taking in deep breaths. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing backdrop to the rush of emotions running through her mind.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft thud of the kitchen door closing behind her. Daniel's footsteps approached and she felt his presence before she saw him. He leaned next to her, looking out over the well-manicured lawn that led to the beach.

"I know it's a surprise, Mick," he began, his tone sincere. "But I promise, I'm not here to mess with Courie's head or anything. I really like her." The casual nickname, one only Courtney's closest friends used, slipped out of Daniel's mouth with an ease that only increased the pounding of Michaela's head.

Michaela turned to face him, her expression a mask of skepticism. "You know what you're doing, right?" she asked, her voice a mix of protectiveness and curiosity. "Courie's not exactly the grid bunny type."

Daniel chuckled, leaning back against the railing. "I know, and that's what I like about her." He took a moment to survey the view, his eyes lingering on the horizon where the sky was beginning to lighten with the promise of a spectacular New Year's sunset. "She's got depth, you know? Makes me think twice about shit just so I don't embarrass her."

Michaela couldn't help but smile at that. Her sister had always had a way of making people want to be better. "So, how did this happen?" she asked, gesturing between the two of them.

Daniel shrugged, a boyish grin spreading across his face. "We just sort of clicked," he said, his eyes shifting towards Courtney as she chatted with Beena, Ella, and Miriam in the kitchen. "It started out as friends, you know, just catching up at races, flirting just to flirt. But she's got this... I don't know, this spark that just makes you want to be around her."

Michaela studied him, looking for any signs of deceit or insincerity, but she found none. At that moment, she knew that her sister had chosen well. Despite the initial shock, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. Maybe this was what Courtney needed—someone to challenge her—to bring out the side of her that was hidden under layers of academic seriousness and family responsibility.

"Well, don't let me keep you from her," she said, pushing off the railing. "You guys have a lot of catching up to do. I know she just got back from that big conference in Singapore." When Daniel failed to stifle a laugh, Michaela stopped to eye him skeptically.

"What?" She muttered, unamused.

"You're telling me you didn't know she was going to see me?" Daniel said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I picked her up from the airport, you know."

Michaela's eyes widened. "No, I had no idea," she replied, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. The revelation that their relationship was more serious than she had thought made her feel even more protective. "But I'm happy for her, for you both." She meant it. Despite her reservations, she knew Courtney was capable of making her own decisions.

Daniel's grin grew. "Thanks, Mick. I know we're both a bit... unexpected, but it works." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And just between us, I'm kind of relieved you're cool with this. It would really suck if you didn't approve when I've already told her I love her."

Michaela's eyes went wide, and she slapped his arm. "What?" she hissed, half-laughing. "Shut up, how long did it take you?"

Daniel nodded, his cheeks reddening slightly. "I might have jumped the gun a bit," he admitted, a sheepish look on his face. "But she's just..." he trailed off, his gaze drifting back to the kitchen where Courtney was now helping Miriam prep the table for the meal.

Michaela felt a twinge of something in her chest—envy, perhaps? She had always been so focused on her career that she had never allowed herself to truly open up to someone the way Courtney had with Daniel. The sight of her sister in love was both beautiful and unsettling. It was a reminder of what she had given up to pursue her dreams.

"She's everything to me," Daniel finished, his brown eyes glazing over for a moment as he watched Courtney approach the sliding door. The sight of him looking at her sister like that, with pure adoration, was something new to Michaela. She had only ever seen that look on her parents' faces, a look both heartwarming and disconcerting.

"Well, don't fuck it up," she said, her voice softer than she had intended.

Daniel chuckled, turning to look at her with a knowing smile. "I won't," he promised, his hand resting on her shoulder. "Your sister's got a killer disappointment face."

Michaela rolled her eyes, shoving him playfully. "That's not what I meant and you know it," she said, but her voice held no malice. The tension between them had dissipated and she found herself smiling back at him.

"I know," Daniel replied, his eyes still on Courtney. "But seriously, I'm going to make sure she's happy. She deserves it."

Michaela nodded, unable to argue with that. She knew that underneath Daniel's golden retriever persona was a genuine heart. He had been there for her countless times during the tough moments of her career, offering advice and a shoulder to lean on when things got too heavy.

They both turned as Courtney and Ella stepped out onto the porch, Courtney’s eyes searching for Daniel while Ella’s held concern for Michaela. Courtney looked beautiful, with her hair down and a flowing dress that caught the light just right. When she saw her boyfriend, she beamed, their hands involuntarily reaching for each other as if controlled by a magnetic force.

"Everything okay?" she asked, her gaze flitting between Daniel and her sister.

Michaela nodded. "Yeah, just catching up," she said, her voice lighter than it had been moments ago.

"Good," Courtney said, stepping closer to Daniel. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting."

Michaela felt a pang of something she couldn't quite identify—it wasn't jealousy, but a strange sense of displacement. She had always been the one who knew all the details of Courtney's life, the one her sister turned to for advice. Now, here was Daniel, fitting into their lives so seamlessly, with secrets of his own. She pushed the feeling aside, reminding herself that it was her sister's happiness that mattered.

"That's okay, hon," Daniel murmured, pulling Courtney back into his side with a shared smile.

When Ella silently pretended to gag behind their backs, Michaela rolled her eyes dramatically as they became lost in each other's gaze. "Okay," she huffed, pushing herself off the railing behind her. "We’ll go help Mum and leave you too alone."

Courtney giggled as Daniel wrapped an arm around her waist, his eyes never leaving hers. "Thanks," she called after her retreating sister, her voice filled with affectionate teasing. "We'll be back in a minute," she hummed, her eyes still focused on Daniel's.

Michaela's heart warmed at the lovesick tone in her older sister's voice though the moment was quickly shattered in typical Daniel fashion with a cheeky, "We're gonna make out for a little bit."

Michaela and her best friend groaned with a hint of genuine disgust as Courtney could only giggle in response. She turned to head back inside, shaking her head.

The sound of their laughter followed her into the kitchen, where Miriam and Beena were busy setting out plates and silverware. She felt a strange sense of familiarity wash over her as she took in the scene—it had been so long since she had been part of their domestic routines. Despite the chaos of her career, the comfort of her family's warmth remained unchanged.

The evening rolled into night, and the party grew louder and more festive. The smell of BBQ filled the air as additional guests spilled onto the patio, their laughter and chatter blending with the distant pops of fireworks. Daniel had fit into the celebration so well that it was as if he had always been a part of their family gatherings. He had even charmed the toughest critic—Michaela's grandmother—who couldn't resist his charm and his genuine interest in her stories Michaela had heard about a million times.

Michaela found herself watching Courtney and Daniel from a distance, the way they interacted with each other, the way they shared a secret language of looks and smiles that she hadn't noticed before. It was clear that their relationship was more than just a fleeting attraction—there was a bond between them, a quiet strength that seemed to anchor them amidst the whirlwind of their lives. Daniel seemed to anticipate Courtney's next move throughout the night, casually handing her a napkin or a salt shaker before she could ask for it with a soft peck to her forehead and a whisper of an inside joke.

The party was in full swing, and the family had moved into the living room to watch the countdown on the television. Quentin, now sleeping soundly in Courtney's arms, had been the life of the party, dancing to the music and playing with the confetti that littered the floor. As the clock struck midnight, everyone shouted their goodbyes to 2020 and welcomed the New Year with a chorus of cheers and the popping of champagne bottles. The sound of glasses clinking and kisses on cheeks filled the air.

Michaela couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness as she watched her sister and Daniel share a passionate kiss in the corner, their love on full display. She had never felt like this before, not even when Olivier had been so distant when they were together. Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle tap on her shoulder.

"You okay?" Ella’s voice was a soft rumble in her ear. She turned to find her friend’s concerned eyes searching hers.

Michaela forced a smile. "Yeah, just tired," she said, taking a sip of her champagne. Ella had become friends with Michaela in a similar fashion. An introvert lost in her thoughts as she sat alone before an extrovert forced her to open herself up, Michaela knew she could see right through her facade.

"You know, you're not alone, right?" she said, her hand coming to rest on her shoulder. "You don't need to be with that arsewipe to be loved. We're all here for you."

Michaela nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. "I know," she replied, her voice thick with unshed emotion. "It's just... different now. Everything's changing."

Ella squeezed her shoulder. "Change isn't always all bad, Mick," she said, her own eyes misting over with emotion. "Look at you—Miss McLaren. You've come a long way from giving those boys night terrors in your go-kart."

Michaela chuckled, the memory bringing warmth to her chest. "Yeah," she said, looking around at her family, "But it's weird, you know? Courie's always had her head in books and now she's got Daniel Ricciardo whispering shitty jokes in her ear."

Ella laughed, taking a sip of her drink. "Well, Daniel’s not the worst person in the world for Courtney to be dating," she said, her eyes lingering on the couple across the room. "Remember when your Mum's sister started dating that comedian after her divorce?"

Michaela snorted, the memory of her aunt's unexpected romance bringing a smile to her face. "Yeah, I didn’t even know she could smile," she said, her gaze drifting back to her sister and Daniel.

As the party wound down and guests began to say their goodbyes, the family gathered around the kitchen table, the warm light from the pendant lamp casting a glow over their tired but happy faces. Courtney, now yawning, shifted Quentin in her arms, his body rigid with sleep.

"I can't believe we're already into 2021," Courtney said, her voice filled with wonder. "Feels like just yesterday we were all freaking out about Y2K."

Michaela's father scoffed in disbelief at Courtney's misguided reminiscing. "You were five years old, what do you remember about Y2K?"

Courtney shot him a playful glare. "I remember enough to know it was a big deal, Dad," she slurred, and the room was filled with laughter.

Michaela watched the exchange with a smile, feeling a strange mix of nostalgia and anticipation. Her own future looked so different now—both personally and professionally. She had a new team, new challenges, and now, a new dynamic in her family. As the night grew quieter and the last guests trickled out, she found herself sitting on the porch with Daniel, Courtney, and Ella, the warm breeze carrying the faint scent of fireworks and the distant murmur of the ocean.

"So," Ella began, her voice a bit tipsy from the champagne, "What's the deal with you two? How long have you been keeping this a secret?"

Courtney's cheeks turned a rosy shade as she met her sister's gaze. "August?" She hummed, turning to Daniel for confirmation. He nodded with a knowing smile. "Yeah, since Barcelona, actually."

Michaela's eyes widened. "Barcelona?" She repeated, trying to recall the race weekend. It had been a pretty good one for her, finishing 6th after having qualified 11th. "How did I miss that?"

Courtney and Daniel shared a knowing smile. "It was the weekend you had that big meeting with Ferrari," Courtney said.

Michaela nodded as she remembered that initial meeting with Mattia Binotto. The one where he reassured her that Ferrari was keeping their options open for 2021. The meeting before he completely shattered all her dreams just two months later in Imola.

"I had a layover in Spain and just... decided to surprise him."

Michaela couldn't help but chuckle at the image of her sister, the meticulous planner, pulling off a spontaneous rendezvous. "So, what happened?" she questioned, genuinely curious.

"Well," Daniel began, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Your sister showed up at my hotel room with nothing but a bottle of wine and a goofy grin."

Michaela playfully smacked him on the arm. "That's enough," she protested, though the corners of her mouth twitched with amusement. Courtney rolled her eyes.

"You know what we mean," Ella said, poking the older of the sisters in the side. "How did it all start?"

Daniel leaned back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful. "It's hard to tell," he admitted. "We've known each other for a while, obviously. But it was just... one of those moments where everything makes sense."

Michaela nodded, understanding that feeling all too well. Her own career had been built on moments like that—instances of clarity and purpose that had propelled her to where she was today. "So, what's the plan now?" she asked, looking at the couple.

"Well, I finally convinced her to take one of my Renault polos," Daniel said, his voice filled with contentment. "But I'm hoping she'll join me on the European leg of the season."

Courtney blushed even more deeply, and Michaela felt a twinge of happiness for them. Despite her initial surprise, she couldn't deny that they made a good pair—both strong-willed, but with a tenderness that seemed to bring out the best in each other.

"You guys are going to be a nightmare at the races," Michaela teased, her voice filled with affection. "Everyone's going to know."

Courtney looked at Daniel, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe that's the plan," she said, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth.

Ella groaned dramatically. "Please tell me you two won't be wearing matching outfits," she said, her tone half-joking, half-horrified.

"Oh, you know it," Courtney quipped, her voice filled with playful spite. "It's going to be a sea of that god-awful yellow and black." Michaela laughed, shaking her head.

"And I’ll have that atrocious papaya car to look at," Ella muttered jokingly, taking another sip of her drink.

The conversation grew more comfortable, the three of them discussing their upcoming travels and the excitement of the new season. Despite her initial skepticism, Daniel had managed to charm his way into her good graces, and she found herself warming to the idea of him being a part of her family's life.

As the night grew late and the party wound down, Daniel and Courtney eventually disappeared upstairs, leaving Michaela to sit on the porch swing with her best friend and her mother, the three of them lost in thought as they watched the last few fireworks light up the night sky. Miriam reached over to grab her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm happy she chose him," Miriam said, her gaze still on the distant explosions of color. "He's a good man. And he makes her happy."

Ella nodded, the swing creaking gently beneath them. "Yeah," she murmured, her voice a little thick. "They do seem good together."

Miriam leaned closer, her eyes searching her daughter's face. "And what about you, darling? How are you holding up after everything with Olivier?"

Michaela took a deep breath, the cool night air brushing against her cheeks. "I'm okay, Mum," she said, her voice steady. "It's been a tough few months, but I've got a great season ahead of me with McLaren. That's all I need to focus on."

Miriam studied her for a moment before nodding. "You know, sweetheart, love isn't just about the big moments," she said softly. "It's about finding someone who supports you in your dreams and makes you happy in the quiet moments too."

Michaela's eyes searched her mother's, finding a well of wisdom that she had missed. "I know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... different without him, that's all."

Miriam leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. "You're stronger than you think," she assured her. "You've come so far, and I know you'll find someone who loves you just as fiercely as you deserve."

Michaela swallowed the lump in her throat. She squeezed her mother's hand and felt the warm embrace of her best friend’s arms wrap around her, a rush of love and gratitude. "Thank you, guys," she said, her voice small. "I just hope I don't screw it up when I do."

Miriam tilted her head, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "You won't," she said firmly. "You're a Sandile. We don't screw up love, we just take our time to find it." Michaela smiled at her mother's use of her maiden name.

The porch light cast a warm glow over the three women, creating a warm bubble as the rest of the house grew quiet. "I know it's hard to imagine now, but love has a way of finding you when you least expect it," Miriam continued. "Look at Travis and Beena. They've been through hell and back, and they're still madly in love."

Michaela nodded, taking a moment to reflect on her mother's words. The thought of finding someone who truly understood her, and who could handle the demands of her career without feeling overshadowed or left behind, was something she hadn't allowed herself to dream about for a long time. But watching Courtney with Daniel had sparked a hope within her, a hope that maybe, there was room for love in her fast-paced world.

❁ :⠀taglist.⠀feel free to send in an ask/comment to join the taglist <3

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samueldelany · 8 months ago

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Thyme Travellers: An Anthology of Palestinian Speculative Fiction, to be released autumn 2024.

Thyme Travellers collects fourteen of the Palestinian diaspora’s best voices in speculative fiction. Speculative fiction as a genre invites a reconfiguring of reality, and here each story is a portal into realms of history, folklore and futures.

A man stands on the shore waiting to commune with those who live in the ocean. Pilgrims stretch into the distance, passing a stone cairn with a mysterious light streaming from it. Two Australian women fervently dig a tunnel to Jerusalem. Men from Gaza swim in the sea until they drown, still unconcerned. A father and son struggle to connect over the AI scripts prompting their conversation.

Building on the work of trailblazing anthologies such as Reworlding Ramallah and Palestine +100, this volume is the first of its kind in Canada. Editor Sonia Sulaiman brings together stories by speculative fiction veterans and emerging writers from Australia to Egypt, Lebanon to Canada.

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akajustmerry · 7 months ago

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hey merry! i noticed you just started the show, so how're you liking dark winds so far?

I started and finished it in less than a week. suffice to say, I really enjoyed it! here's some quickfire thoughts (note: I'm Aboriginal/First Nations "Australian" so I'm speaking as a non-Native to the so called US) <3

Something I loved about it as an Indigenous person is that every character has a different relationship to their ceremony and cultural beliefs. You have Bern who's totally immersed, Joe who wants to but struggles because of his grief, and Jim who's skeptical af. I liked that so much because it's very real. at least in my family and community. Everyone's degree of belief is different for different reasons!!

Bern and Jim oh my FUCKING God. I was GIGGLING and KICKING MY FEET. a+ culturally specific slowburn. when he asked her about her tribe?? when she gave him the protection medicine? when he says there's nothing on the rez for him and she says "I'm here"? WHEN SHE LEAVES AND HE RETURNS THE PROTECTIVE JEWELLERY??? 🥹🥰🥹🥰

I preferred the first season to the second. I think it was shot better and had a better executed mystery. The cinematography in season one was so gorgeous. It had a very distinctive almost sunny yet gothic feel, but the second season was shot more conventionally. I hated the colour splash sequences.

Emma's sub-plot of helping other women avoid forced sterilisation was so awesome. Deserves its own show to be honest. That sequence where she tells the patient in Dineʼ (under the guise of translating for the white doc) that she should not have her baby in hospital because the white doctors will sterilise her? One of the best character intros I've ever seen, and I love how it tails off in season 2 with her agreeing to go public with what's happening.

I love Bern so MUCH. Jess Mattern is so GOOD. her encounters with the witch are CHILLING. Her pure dedication to her cultural beliefs is so inspiring. She's also one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen and I'm so gay. My only thing is......in WHAT universe is becoming a BORDER PATROL officer gonna mean you encounter LESS injustice. smh!!!

Kiowa Gordon as a 1970s suave FBI deserter turned hire out of a highway hotel private eye full of love for his community?? That's my dream gender!!!!!!! Also......it must be said....i need him.

Finally, even though I could tell Graham Roland and the writers made HUGE efforts to shift the white gaze of the novels Dark Winds was based on, there was just some moments/attitudes in the series that felt Off. maybe I'm over sensitive to copaganda idk but yeah there was just a little too much.......rampant individual American heroism and pro-cop/military stuff at times that made me roll my eyes as a non-usAmerican viewer

anyways, looking forward to having a reason to stay alive until 2025 (when season 3 comes out!)

#nero-neptune #dark winds

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theblurbwitchproject · 7 months ago

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Weyward by Emilia Hart

Published: February 2, 2023 Publisher: HarperCollins

The Author

Emilia Hart is a British-Australian writer. She was born in Sydney and studied English Literature and Law at the University of New South Wales before working as a lawyer in Sydney and London. She is a graduate of Curtis Brown Creative’s Three Month Online Novel Writing Course and was Highly Commended in the 2021 Caledonia Novel Award. Her short fiction has been published in Australia and the UK. Weyward is her debut novel. She lives in London.

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The Story

In Weyward, the narrative intertwines the lives of three women spanning five centuries. In 2019, Kate seeks solace in Weyward Cottage, escaping from London and her abusive partner. She slowly unravels a mystery hidden within the cottage's history, hinting at secrets from her great aunt's past and the 17th-century witch hunts. In 1619, Altha faces trial for a murder she didn't commit, relying on her unconventional nature magic to defend herself against accusations of witchcraft. Meanwhile, in 1942, Violet feels trapped by societal constraints and the prison of her family's estate, yearning for freedom and the memory of her mother, who was rumored to have gone mad before her death. The only remnants of her mother's existence are a locket marked with a mysterious "W" and the word "weyward" etched into the bedroom's baseboard. This novel masterfully weaves these women's tales together, revealing a compelling narrative of strength across generations and the transformative influence of the natural world.

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The Vibe: family lineage, nature magic, self discovery, witch trials, feminine strength, betrayal, forging your own path

The Style: historical fiction, magical realism, multiple povs, part epistolary, part narration, emotive

Trigger Warnings: imprisonment, domestic abuse, spousal rape, car accident death, entrapment by pregnancy, emotional abuse, suidical ideation, mention of stillbirth, “hysteria”, hysterectomy, abortion, misogyny

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The Review

I picked Weyward up on a whim and am so pleased that I did. Historical fiction mixed with magical realism and a dash of incredibly rich writing made it a real pleasure to read. The narrative weaves between three women across five centuries, deftly showcasing the myriad ways in which women demonstrate resilience and bravery under difficult circumstances.

Being totally honest, I often struggle with split narrative timelines in novels. I can’t be the only one who has found themselves bored with one section of a book, willing the boring chapters to end in order to get back to the characters I am invested in… right? Thankfully, Weyward’s leading ladies are all so fabulous and their stories so engaging, that I was invested in each timeline equally. This actually sped up my reading as the story progressed, as I wanted to find out how each character was doing in their timeline more and more desperately. If you want to read a moving story with wonderful characters that emphasizes the transformative power of nature, please pick this up!

Witch. The word slithers from the mouth like a serpent, drips from the tongue as thick and black as tar. We never thought of ourselves as witches, my mother and I. For this was a word invented by men, a word that brings power to those who speak it, not those it describes. A word that builds gallows and pyres, turns breathing women into corpses.

One thing I will say before really digging in to the review, is that there are a lot of trigger warnings for this novel (see above for a summary). Reading through the list, it may seem that this is a tome of sheer doom and gloom, but it actually didn’t feel that way to me. Obviously, a lot of the trigger warnings may be Hard Nos for some people, and that’s totally fair, however I found this story so engaging and the characters so strong, that the TWs didn’t beat me down as much as they could have. Being set across five centuries, this book explores a number of methods by which patriarchal societies abuse women. From the outright cruelties of the 17th Century to the more insidious offences of modern society, there is a lot of violence and misogyny at work here. It can get difficult in parts, but I found myself uplifted by the women’s strength in the end.

Now, I’ve discussed how strong the characters are; let me properly introduce them to you! Kate, living in her 2019 timeline, wants to escape a violent partner and discover the truth about her family. Violet, in 1942 and the midst of the Second World War, wants to escape the societal confines and expectations of femininity and live a life she chooses. Altha in 1619 just wants to survive. I loved them all. I cared about them all. I may have even shed a tear or two over them (and books don’t make me cry super often). I particularly loved Violet and her sheer determination to live her own life. I really appreciated seeing her as a teen from her own perspective, as well as from Kate’s perspective looking back at Violet as an old woman. (I want grow up to be an eccentric old lady with the witchiest house in the world just like her!) The interlacing of their stories is so well conceived, it really feels like you’re seeing a cohesive timeline rather than random sections plonked together.

Perhaps one day, she said, there would be a safer time. When women could walk the earth, shining bright with power, and yet live.

There is so much witchcraft detail in this book, dropped in so sneakily and creatively, I just loved it! All the leading ladies have Witch Marks (which definitely need to be used in witchy stories more frequently), but they’re not overly emphasized… they’re just there and mentioned in passing in various subtle ways. The way the Familiars work is also super cool; not every animal can be a familiar, and they aren’t necessarily easily controlled, but they provide emotional support and do their witches’ bidding when needed. I especially loved the constant presence of the crows, which at first seem wild and dangerous, but eventually become as important to the plot as the leading characters as symbols of power. And I love, love, love how the magic stems so much from the witches’ connection to the natural world. It just felt so right to me.

One notable factor in Weyward for me was how deftly Emilia Hart wove historical facts into the narrative. From the Lancashire Assizes to the Pendle Witch Trials and King James I and his obsession with Witch Hunts, Altha’s timeline felt so based in history as to be almost visceral. This sort of thing really happened to living women. I was especially impressed by the use of the Great Comet of 1618; Hart definitely did her research in order to place her story firmly in the real world, with an additional magical touch.

There was something about us – the Weyward women – that bonded us more tightly with the natural world. We can feel it, she said, the same way we feel rage, sorrow or joy. The animals, the birds, the plants – they let us in, recognising us as one of their own. That is why roots and leaves yield so easily under our fingers, to form tonics that bring comfort and healing. That is why animals welcome our embrace. Why the crows – the ones who carry the sign – watch over us and do our bidding, why their touch brings our abilities into sharpest relief.

Weyward has become one of my favourite reads for 2024, and has 100% got a solid seat in my Top Ten of the Year. It is endlessly impressive to me that is was Emilia Hart’s DEBUT NOVEL. Seriously, my hat is off to her for creating a story that felt so real and so magical at the same time. I will definitely be reading more of her work as it is published. If my recommendation isn’t enough, Weyward also won Goodreads’ Best Historical Fiction title in 2023. And if you buy a physical copy of the book, you get a neat little flip book of a crow flying in the page corners. If all that doesn’t sell it to you, I don’t know what will.

#Weyward #Emilia Hart #book review #bookblr #reading #books #witch fiction #witches #witchy #witchblr #witchy books #witchcore #witchy vibes #witch #witch books

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astoundingbeyondbelief · 9 months ago

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Kaiju Week in Review (February 11-17, 2024)

vimeo

Warner Bros. unfurled the second trailer for Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, which seems to be going over much better than the first. There are multiple glimpses of the ice Titan Shimo throughout, and an even briefer look at Mothra reflected in Jia's eye. (My favorite shot, of course, is Kong decking Skar King as he's holding out Suko like a wriggling shield.) The rough shots from trailer #1 still look rough, but at least the new footage is more impressive.

The new issue of Empire (how fitting) has a short article on GxK—the big revelation there is that Godzilla Evolved is pink simply because that's director Adam Wingard's favorite color. Collaborations are also popping up. Circle K is offering a movie-branded sandwich, chocolate bar, and Froster drinks/cups. Godzilla and a seriously wizened Kong are also entering the mobile game Lords Mobile.

I don't know much about Oscar politicking, but Takashi Yamazaki's strategy of bringing a model Godzilla with him everywhere he goes seems like a winner. Both appear in the "class photo" taken of all the nominees at the Oscar Nominees Luncheon. At the same event, Yamazaki and Godzilla met with Steven Spielberg, who told Yamazaki he had seen Godzilla Minus One three times. Posting their photo together on Twitter, Yamazaki said he had "met God."

Toho's English Godzilla YouTube channel also uploaded a six-minute video on Minus One's VFX, with a focus on the various ways the production was able to shave off costs. Officially translated behind-the-scenes featurettes for Toho Godzilla films are a rarity, a sign of how badly they want that little gold statue. It's worth watching just for Yamazaki scooting his chair around the office.

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Shout! Factory's onslaught of old Toei tokusatsu films on its streaming service turned out to be a prelude to offering them all on disc. The Classic Tokusatsu Collection Blu-ray set includes Planet Prince (1959; called Prince of Space), Invasion of the Neptune Men (1961), Watari the Ninja Boy (1966), The Golden Bat (1966; called Golden Ninja), Magic Serpent (1966; called Dragon Showdown) , Ninja Scope (1969), and Terror Beneath the Sea (1966). None have ever been released on English-friendly Blu-ray before; some haven't even made it to DVD. The set is $70 and limited to 2,500 copies.

Major caveats seem to accompany every English-language release of vintage tokusatsu these days, and unfortunately this set's no exception. Despite the existence of English dubs for at least some of these films (two of them riffed on Mystery Science Theater 3000), only Terror Beneath the Sea is dubbed; the rest are Japanese-only. And the dubbed Prince of Space well-known to MiSTies was actually an amalgamation of Toei's two Planet Prince films, only the first of which is present here. (Even the first film seems like it's going to be in upscaled standard-def, going off the streaming version.) No special features in the production description either, although one person who got the set early reports that at least one trailer is included (for Invasion of the Neptune Men).

IDW has announced still another Godzilla miniseries, Godzilla: Skate or Die. First-issue description:

It's Australian skater punks versus Varan and the King of the Monsters in this thrilling debut issue by writer/artist Louie Joyce (A Fistful of Pain)! Four years ago, four best friends and die-hard skaters found the perfect location for a DIY skatepark. After months of hard work, they created the world’s sickest spot that they could enjoy for the rest of their lives… That is, until the ferocious Varan appeared in the middle of central Australia and started making a beeline for their beloved park. Why is Varan on a rampage? Why did Godzilla just appear off the coast? What does their beloved skate spot have to do with this? And most importantly…what are these punks willing to do to save it?

Sounds like there's a lot of author appeal here, as Joyce is Australian and calls the tale "inspired by all the amazing DIY spots I've had the privilege of skating[.]" And a meaty role for Varan is a pleasant surprise.

Perhaps inspired by the success of Troll on Netflix, we've got another Scandinavia giant monster movie on the way. Kraken will be directed by Pal Oie (Dark Woods) from a script by Vilde Eide. No cast yet, but here are the plot details divulged by The Hollywood Reporter:

[T]he thriller will follow Johanne, a marine biologist who encounters several strange occurrences while researching a fjord, including the brutal deaths of two local teenagers. “At the bottom of Norway’s deepest fjord rests a mythical monster as large as a mountain, with a myriad of arms ready to crush and devour anything they can grab,” the film’s synopsis reads.

Krakens are certainly having a moment in giant monster stories right now, between Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken and the three that somehow wound up connected to the Monsterverse. (To wit: Na Kika was originally called Kraken, the unnamed antagonist of Skull Island bore the same name internally, and the guardian of Atlantis in the Justice League crossover comic is a Kraken as well.) This seems like a more back-to-basics approach.

#godzilla x kong the new empire #godzilla #king kong #shimo #skar king #kraken #godzilla skate or die #godzilla minus one #shout factory

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ultranos · 10 months ago

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Hello,

You mention some podcast you love once in a while and I gotta tell you they are usually very good recs and have made me discover some great ones. Do you have a rec list somewhere, or a few podcasts you'd like to give a shoutout to ?

Thanks a lot !

Sure! I don't have a rec list, but I'll make one now here of what's in my general rotation (or was, if it's a limited series):

Ongoing

Behind the Bastards (https://www.iheart.com/podcast/105-behind-the-bastards-29236323/) A podcast about the worst people in all of history, hosted by Robert Evans (former war correspondent and Cracked.com writer). My current binge-listen, it's highly engaging on some of the most difficult to process subject matter there is, that being human atrocities and the people who commit them. It's a deep dive into the history and background of these people that in every case that reminds us that all too often "history's greatest monsters"...are just people. (As a note, Evans acknowledges fucked-up things as fucked up, but he doesn't pretend they didn't occur)

This Podcast Will Kill You (https://thispodcastwillkillyou.com/) A podcast about diseases and epidemiology, as well as other medical mysteries. Each episode will go over the biology of a disease or condition, the history of it, and the current state of where we stand with it in the world. Also, each episode comes with an original cocktail and mocktail recipe.

Criminal (https://thisiscriminal.com/) The only true crime podcast I listen to, hosted by Phoebe Judge, the woman with the most soothing podcast voice ever. It's a podcast about crime, but unlike a lot of true crime podcasts, it's just as likely to be a story about the victim or the people caught in the middle as it is the actual perpetrator.

5-4 (https://www.fivefourpod.com/) "A podcast about how much the Supreme Court sucks." Three lawyers dissect and analyze SCOTUS cases, and not just present ones, that illustrate just how reactionary and adversarial the Court has been throughout almost all it's history.

Noble Blood (https://www.grimandmild.com/nobleblood) Host Dana Schwartz takes you on a trip each episode into the lives, bad decisions, and usually very bloody ends of many of history's royals and nobility.

You're Wrong About (https://yourewrongabout.com/) Events, people, and phenomenon from the semi-recent past that have been miscast in the public understanding. From McDonalds Hot Coffee to Princess Diana to Sinead O'Connor. Also you'll probably learn more about the Satanic Panic than you ever thought about before.

If Books Could Kill (https://www.ifbookspod.com/) Does the idea of "two hosts ripping into really terrible nonfiction bestsellers that have causes some really harmful ideas to spread" sound entertaining? Because that's pretty much what this is. You're not going to look at airport books the same way again.

Queer as Fact (https://www.queerasfact.com/) Four Australian historians explore queer historical topics and figures from all over the world and from different time periods. The research is often damn good, especially considering how thin on the ground sources can be, and they take pains to not limit themselves to the usual Eurocentric view of history.

99% Invisible (https://99percentinvisible.org/) Probably the longest-running podcast in my rotation, host Roman Mars and crew say it's a podcast about design. It's probably more accurate to say it's about the design and impact of the things we don't usually see or think about, the little things we take for granted that have been designed and developed and have had a profound impact on people's lives, in both the hyperlocal and global sense.

Limited Series

Ars Paradoxica (https://arsparadoxica.com/) Sci-fi audio serial drama. Time-travel, the Cold War, secret agencies, and human choices.

The Big Dig (https://www.wgbh.org/podcasts/the-big-dig) 9-ep series produced by GBH hosted by Ian Coss about how Boston's Big Dig happened. It's also about American infrastructure and politics, and how the local sometimes is the national.

#nos answers things #Anonymous #podcasts

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albatris · 4 months ago

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Writerly Questionnaire!

thank you @davycoquette for tagging me :3

About You

When did you start writing?

I started when I was a lil kid, probably about 6 years old!

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

No, they're much the same! Horror, sci-fi, fantasy, mystery :3

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.)

It's just me n my laptop wherever we end up! Usually on the couch or in bed! I love writing in coffee shops but I'm often too anxious to be around other people ^^;

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

Playlists, baby!! Or watching/reading something that scratches the same itch as the stuff I wanna write. Usually some good horror :3

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

Oh, absolutely! My works are very Australian in nature!

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

There's themes of uhhhh.... isolation vs. connection, that's one that comes up a lot. Mental and physical illness too. The bendy nature of reality. Anti-capitalism. I'm often surprised when the same themes pop up over multiple works, since I don't often plan it that way haha

Your Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.)

My favourite character currently is Alex! Alex is from "A Rental Car takes a Left Down Rake Street and Disappears". It's a vampire lawyer who preys on despicable predators human society will never hold accountable. Alex is an intensely private person who prefers to keep to itself, but it's also deeply kind and always looking to help others when it can. It enjoys gardening, sleight of hand magic and expensive wines :3 Alex has my favourite character arc in the trilogy!!

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life?

Ripley!! Her sense of humour is similar to my IRL best friend's. She's loud, boisterous and silly, and the fact that she talks so much means I wouldn't have to talk as much which is always a bonus c:

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

Quinn. They're such a shady bastard. They'd hate me and I'd be scared of them lmao

How do you picture them? (As real people you imagined, as models/actors who exist in real life, as imaginary artwork, as artwork you made or commissioned, anime style, etc.)

Here they are!

The characters of my two main projects, drawn by me :3 A Rental Car takes a Left Down Rake Street and Disappears on the top and All the Doors are Open on the bottom!

Your Writing

What’s your reason for writing?

It's my way of communicating with the world and connecting to others!

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

When people tell me they resonate with my stories in terms of, like, shared experiences... I love that! Some of the comments I still think about all the time have been from fellow psychosis-havers telling me they resonate with my depictions of psychosis or that my stories made them feel less alone. But I adore all comments!

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work? (For example: as a literary genius, or as a writer who “gets” the human condition; as a talented worldbuilder, as a role model, etc.)

I wanna be thought of as... spooky... >:3

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Characters and worldbuilding! By worldbuilding I don't mean Creating Worlds (I suck at that) but crafting unique premises and putting my own spin on things like vampire lore and interdimensional portals :3

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.)

I'm very happy with it!

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

Probly. I think I'd go stircrazy without it. It's my way of understanding and processing the world and my feelings on it. Plus I'd get bored otherwise.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence?

Both! But I'd say I mostly focus on what I might enjoy!

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fanaticsnail · 5 months ago

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I just saw your OC Tobiuo. Super pretty, I love the idea of pupil less eyes, don't know why but I seems so cool & pretty & mysterious. I love her for Heat. You're my go to for Heat fanfix. I just take everything you say as like gospel. I've been seeing literally almost every other writer for Heat say he has a foot fetish, so I have to ask, in your world does he? I have to take whatever you say as truth so like I'm asking you as the great Heat Oracle. I need your input cause I can't decide if he does or not? Also I love your writing.

Heat and Feet:

We don't yuck yums, and if Heat yums feet, who are we to yuck it?

Fetish speak below the cut. MDNI just in case.

Of all of the fics I've read with Heat, they all do give him a foot fetish, don't they? All of the Kid Pirates have a kink in my opinion.

These are my hot takes:

Kid: Praise - He's a good boy, let him know.

Killer: Subbing - He needs to relinquish control, let him think of nothing other than pleasing you and taking it.

Heat: Worship - He will be your zealot at your alter, let him kneel.

Wire: Domming - He will take all control and try your limits safely, let him test you.

I haven't written for foot fetishes before (from my recollection, anyway), but I feel like he does have a thing about it. He gives off more of a "worship" vibe to me, and I feel like the feet thing stems from "worshiping the ground you walk on."

All in all: he's a sweet guy, and I feel like he's into it. Every shape, size, webbing and all. Shoes, socks, stockings, bare: give the man what he wants. Let him kneel at your feet and worship you.

I am also loving the fact that you're here for Heat. He's gorgeous and I adore him. I need to write more for him.

Thank you for your compliments on my OC, I really appreciate it so, so much. Tobiuo is my love letter to Auslan (Australian Sign Language), and it's been nice to express another aspect of creativity for the One Piece world.

#one piece #ask snail #snail answers #Tobiuo #tobiuo oc #one piece original character #one piece oc #oc x canon #op heat #heat x oc #op heat x oc #my art #he likes feet #one piece fan art #op oc

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serialkilluh1996 · 4 months ago

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☆The star's rabbit☆

Writer-Billy Loomis x actress- @yourgraveisnothere

Warnings➛: Nothing in particular. It's pretty appropriate besides a few mentions of death and murder/Written in third person

Author's note: this is specifically written for the tagged blogger above, but feel free to read it anyway. This is only a bit of a drabble as I'm having a slight break down. That being said, this may go somewhere further with a part two depending on what my mental state does.

"This script is fucking ridiculous." Ray slams the stack of paper on the coffee table, folding her arms and leaning back into the rolling office chair, sassily letting it spin the other way.

"Ray, darlin', you CANNOT keep throwin' hissy fits every time ya see somethin' in the writing you don't like," her manager, Keith, explains, scratching his goatee as he speaks in a flamboyant Australian accent.

"Well, I can't necessarily focus if he keeps rewriting it." She rolls her eyes. "Listen, honey, you are an ACT-O-RESS. You don't write. You act. Miller makes the characters, you just play them." "Keith, they don't care about Miller or his stupid movies. His last good film was 'WEREWOLF', and he didn't even put in the effort to give it a meaningful name. The only reason people even watch the shit he makes is to see ME." She spins back around, her brown-eyed gaze locking onto Keith.

"Let's just be honest. The people don't want Miller. They want me. My face is on all of the movie cases. I'm the one that brings in all the cash in this establishment, and I expect to be treated as such." She pouts, prompting Keith to release an exaggerated sigh of annoyance.

Every day, he asked himself how much more of her bullshit he could take, and everyday, he took more.

"What. What do you want." He throws his hand up, the question coming out flat like old soda. "I want Miller to use at least a penny of his brain and think of something a little more creative. My brain cannot handle another thousand rewrites before he settles on the same stupid damsel story. Why do I always have to play some needlessly ignorant stuck up bitch who spends half the movie screaming?"

"Ray, you know the gimmick. They're not going to give someone with a face like yours a meaningful story or personality." "That's because people keep letting all these old and disgusting perverts become successful writers." Ray takes another spin in her chair, giving Keith attitude he was already too irritated to deal with.

"On the contrary, Ray. I'm a very desirable and young pervert." Both Ray and Keith turn towards the direction of the shady voice, eyes landing on the beholder standing in the doorway of the lounge. He was definitely desirable. There was something mysterious about him.

He looked about 6'0" with dark eagle eyes complimented by his sharp brows. He had thin, perfectly shaped lips, almost like a doll, hiding a set of killer teeth that could ruin self esteem with even the laziest smile.

He looks like the type of guy your parents tell you to avoid, but you don't because you're simply too drawn in by his crow-like beauty to do so.

"Ah, Forgive me for my vulgar behavior. I'm William Loomis, Co-director and writer. But, please, call me Billy." He circles in on them, hands behind his back as he stares Ray down with his manic, sleepy eyes like a vulture. They look big, almost excited, if not for the dark edges underneath that gave him an eerie glare.

Without breaking eye contact, he smirks, letting that smirk turn into a devilish grin as his eyebrows raised. He leans in on her.

"You must be Ray. I've seen your movies before. Astonishing, really." He reaches out to shake her hand, in which she squints and complies, giving him her freshly manicured hand as a sign of low hostility, even though her heart was beating out of her chest.

"And your hands. They're remarkable." He compliments, to which she snatches her hand away.

"So, you're also responsible for this stupid fifth rewrite of 'STAB'? How the hell are we gonna get this damn movie out there if a group of idiots can't even finish writing it?" She yammers, now visibly maddened by the mere sight of his handsome face. Now Ray was finally face to face with one of her tormentors.

"Fifth rewrite? What? You still think we're doing that mess of a movie?" He yanks the 'STAB' script of the table, carefully ripping it to shreds in front of them, Keith looking absolutely leveled by this new turn of events.

"The fuck are you doing?" Keith asks with audible frustration. " 'STAB' is out of the picture. It was a trash movie and now it's finally going where it belongs?" Billy throws it in the garbage bin.

"After a bit of persuasion, Miller has decided to let me take matters into my own hands. We're making a new movie," Billy leans in uncomfortably close to Ray, his eyes bouncing between her and Keith. "A better movie." He chuckles, pulling back.

Ray and Keith shoot each other a look, both undeniably confused by everything.

"You're sick and tired of being the same basic ass damsel in distress. Sick of being the frightened little girl they make you pretend you are. Don't you want change, Ray? Don't you want... a twist?" He gestures with his hands, knuckles clenching with excitement, Ray raising an eyebrow at the question.

"What if, for once, you get to fight? You're a strong woman, arent you? Playing in all these movies can only make you crave a certain... violence. You start to imagine yourself in the eyes of your attacker." He walks behind her chair, tucking her black and blonde split hair behind her ear before grabbing a handful.

"You see, when you imagine this...you see yourself when you're in your attackers eyes...." he lets go of her hair, crouching down," You imagine what all these fake killers see when they chase you....." He pokes her nose. "A rabbit. A fast bunny with a cute face and quick feet.... You see the appeal. You want to feel what they feel. You want a bunny to chase, don't you? You're sick of being the prey." He pulls out a hunting knife, placing it in her hand before pressing her knuckles down to ensure she gripped it.

"You want to be a predator....don't you, Ray?" Billy asked, looking Ray dead in the eyes as he holds dearly onto her hands, making sure she can't reject the weapon that was quite obviously not one of the props. Her face heats, eyes struggling to focus on his.

Keith looks between them, standing up in a ready stance to break up anything that happens.

"That's enough." Keith says firmly. "No, no. It's fine, Keith. Tell me more about the rabbit. About my rabbit. " Ray is enamored by the look of chaos in his eyes. She knows simply by his anxious glare that shes in for some wild ideas. He gives a hearty chuckle, flashing her with his perfect set of ivory chompers.

"Let me tell you about a woman by the name of Sidney Prescott."

Thanks for reading!

You can support me by liking, reblogging, or cashapping me @ $Fundsbrownie

#☆nova writes #fanfiction #black literature #ghostface #horror movies #scream #writers on tumblr #horror #reqs open #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you

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a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives · 1 year ago

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Luke Arnold: "There's a lot of me in Fetch, more than I'd probably like to admit".

Luke Arnold is an Australian actor, director and writer who rose to fame in 2014 for playing John Long Silver in the television series Black Sails. Throughout his career he has participated in various theatre and television productions that have allowed him to grow as a person and professional. In 2020, in the midst of the pandemic, he published his first novel, The Last Smile in Sunder City, which arrived in Spain a year later through Gamon Fantasy, the fantasy imprint of Trini Vergara Ediciones.

The work, winner of the BookNest Award for best first novel, places us in a world in which magic has disappeared and the magical creatures that inhabit it are gradually withering away due to the lack of magic. With hints of mystery, fresh, witty humour and light-hearted action, The Last Smile in Sunder City introduces us to Fetch Phillips, a private investigator with a drinking problem but a lot of charisma, who seeks to help any creature who requires his services, whether it be to find a missing person, solve a murder or ensure the safety of a client during an exchange.

Shortly after the publication of The Last Smile in Sunder City, Dead Man in a Ditch, the author's second book, arrived on our shelves as part of The Fetch Phillips Files that began with his previous work. Most recently, April 2023 saw the publication of With One Foot in the Abyss (One Foot in the Fade), which continues Fetch's adventures.

On the occasion of the release of this latest book, Luke Arnold has made a stop in the city of Barcelona, during his literary tour, to tell us a little more about his urban fantasy novels that are conquering readers from different countries. In Cuánta Cultura we have had the opportunity to interview him to bring you a little closer to this author who has arrived on the scene.

Photograph of Luke Aronld with two of his books (La última sonrisa en Sunder City and Con un pie en el abismo) in the Gigamesh bookshop (c) Pol S. Roca

Cuantra Cultura (CC) : In The Last Smile in Sunder City you dedicate the book to your father, who opened the doors to fantasy for you. I'd like you to tell us what fantasy means to you, how important it is.

Luke Arnold : I've always been drawn to fantasy since I was a child and it was this genre that shaped my imagination as a reader. I find that, as a writer and creator, I find the complexity of the real world too overwhelming. That's why I like the freedom that the fantasy genre gives me, a freedom that allows me to explore, also, very complex aspects of a completely invented world, whether social, cultural or political, without having the need to be tied to reality.

C.C : As an actor, if you had to play Fetch Phillips, how would you play him?

L.A : Actually I already do a bit of Fetch Phillips when I record the audiobooks in English and I think this is the only time I'm going to play him.

For anyone playing this character it's important to keep in mind that he has a lot on his mind: about the kind of man he thinks he needs to be, the kind of masculinity he should embody, what it means to do good and whether he's the one to do it… It's true that Fetch tries to project that vision he has (that he wants to have or thinks he should have of himself), but underneath it all he's just a nervous, anxious, repressed, fearful, sad, hopeless, guilty little boy.

However, there is a part of him that does like being the tough guy who gets drunk. It is very important for anyone who has to play this character to keep all this in mind.

C.C : We would like to know what made you take the leap into the world of literature. What was the spark that made you pick up your pen and create such a charismatic character as Fetch?

L.A : When I was a child, it was clear to me that I wanted to write. The first time I played something were stories that I had created. I would put ideas in my head, shape them and then act them out. That's when I started performing things in front of other people.

What tends to happen with these things is that, when you perform something, you tend to get called back for more stuff. They say "hey, we're going to do a play, we're going to do a short film, come and present this act" and as a teenager it's a lot more fun to perform than it is to be in your room alone, writing.

In that sense, life took me down that path, even though I was very clear that I was still a writer. It's been a process of finding myself as a writer again.

I remember, when I was young, I wrote a short story that was a prototype of both Fetch and Sunder City, but it was a very superficial vision. It was more of a typical tough-guy detective going around, investigating. There were some elements that still exist today, like the disappearance of magic, but the character of Fetch was more of a stereotype of what a young kid imagines that idea of the adult to be.

It wasn't until I got to a point in my life where I realised I had enough perspective to look at the vision of masculinity, maturity and growing up that I really started to get excited about writing this. I found myself able to set aside some of my time to dive in and sink my teeth into this world and this story.

"John Long Silver and Fetch Phillips have very different ways of dealing with their personal tragedies and their conception of the world as a dangerous place." - Luke Arnold

C.C : You talk about things you wrote a long time ago like the story that was the germ of Fetch and Sunder City, can you tell us, if you remember, what were the first stories you created?

L.A : I don't remember exactly what I wrote first, but I do know that a lot of the short stories I wrote as a kid were very much inspired by the comics I read. I would write my own comics or create stories based on probably whatever I was reading at the time, things with a lot of action. At that time I was already leaning very much towards fantasy and magical realism, in fact I have some of the comics from primary schools and they're all blatant plagiarisms of the Nightmares books or the X-Patrol comics.

Photo of Luke Arnold after the meeting that took place in the Gigamesh bookshop (c) Pol S. Roca

C.C : Writers tend to pour a part of ourselves into the story and the characters, both consciously and unconsciously. Is there anything of yours (way of thinking, any experience, lived feelings…) in the Fetch books that you have captured?

L.A : There's a lot of me in Fetch, more than I'd probably like to admit. In the end, I think books serve to explore a lot of things, they allow us to introspect and find out about ourselves. In this case, Fetch grapples with the idea of how to be a good person in a society that is broken.

When we conform and follow the herd, we become complicit in certain events that are happening in our society. At the same time, if we go against the tide, if we decide to rebel, the act itself has a cost, a price. And I think that in our world, whatever position we are in, we are all facing these same questions, the personal responsibility we all have for the society and the world we live in.

Many of us right now are in a dichotomy of whether to try to do good things for ourselves and our immediate environment (for our neighbours, family and friends), or whether to try to change the social fabric around us. This obviously leads you to wonder what the people you are rebelling against would do or how what you do will change society. The Sunder City books are a safe way to be able to explore, through Fetch, all these questions before you go out and start kicking things around.

C.C : For Black Sails you played the well-known fictional pirate John Long Silver, a character with a brutal evolution and a great charisma throughout the series. Those of us who have seen the series can't help but imagine Fetch a bit like Silver, although it's true that Fetch is a character with a great sense of guilt and a bit broken, but I'd like to ask you, first, if there's anything you took away from your performance as Silver and, of course, if there's anything of Silver in Fetch.

L.A : In my opinion, I think they are two very different characters, both in their view of the world and their place in it and how that manifests itself in their personalities. In the end, John Long Silver and Fetch Phillips have very different ways of dealing with their personal tragedies and their conception of the world as a dangerous place.

Silver is a very capable character, who knows how to take care of himself because it is clear to him that no one is going to do it for him. That's why he adapts so well and so well. It's also why his story starts out as a fish out of water in Nassau and eventually manages to cope. Not only does he get what he wants, but he also goes all the way to the top.

Fetch, on the other hand, has done terrible things trying to fit in. He did what the people around him told him what to do, what to say, what to think. In that sense I think they are very different from each other.

Photograph of Luke Arnold during the interview he gave me at the Gigamesh bookshop (c) Pol S. Roca

C.C : Who or what is your greatest inspiration when creating (films, theatre, actors, directors, etc.)? Tell me about your greatest idols.

L.A : I find it really hard to choose when I'm asked about top ten, favourites, etc., so I'm going to talk about more recent things. The first books that really caught my attention in that sense were Joe Abercrombie's books.

Lately I've been reading The Ultimate Revenge and The Heroes and I find it extraordinary how he, dealing with such big themes and ideas, is able to keep it all very much rooted in the characters and in the humour. Joe Abercrombie, in fact, I think I've only got a couple of books left to read. And then there's Terry Pratchett also for the same thing, for how he deals with these very complex ideas with humour and how he manages to stick with the characters. These two authors are very much reflected in Sunder City.

Another thing that Abercrombie has in common with Pratchett is that they both don't take themselves too seriously and that's very important when you're trying to deal with very big issues from a social-political point of view.

C.C : In an interview you said that one of your favourite fantasy books is Peter Pan. Everyone knows it from the Disney film, but there are many who have not read J.M. Barrie's work. What do you like most about this story? What would you say about it to encourage people to read it?

L.A : It's going to be difficult to answer this question because the first film I made as an actor was an adaptation of Peter Pan and I haven't read the book since. This was in 2002 and from then on I spent a lot of time working in the specialist department of fencing choreographers. Now what I have in my head, above all, is the film that I made and probably also the Disney adaptation. I think it's a good reminder that I need to pick up the book again and read it.

C.C : Would you be up for writing a pirate novel?

L.A : It would be super fun. The truth is that I don't see myself writing a realistic pirate novel, something from the Golden Age of piracy, a very historical work. It would have to be set in a fantasy world that takes the elements of pirates that we all love so much. What I'm still not clear on is how I would do it, what exactly that would look like.

In the Sunder City books, Fetch hasn't even been near the water yet, so that's a tough one, but my agent occasionally brings up the idea of pirates. I think my publishers would love it, it would certainly be a lot of fun, I just have to find a way to approach it.

Photograph of the three books by Luke Arnold (The Last Smile in Sunder City, Dead Man in a Ditch and One Foot in the Fade) published by Gamon Fantasy (c) Cristina García Trufero

The Fetch Phillips archives are not only urban fantasy noir novels to enjoy and pass the time with, but they also contain a reflection on what it means to grow up, to lose that innocence and see yourself involved in an adult world where the magic that existed in your youth is completely lost. It talks about the responsibilities one has towards oneself, but it also criticises today's society through a narrative with fantastic elements that lead us to ask ourselves certain questions about the world, its evolution and our role in it.

During his visit to Barcelona, in the meeting that took place in the Gigamesh bookshop, Luke Arnold announced that he was working on a fourth book of The Fetch Phillips Archives, so we will be able to enjoy a new adventure of this peculiar private investigator in the future. This is undoubtedly great news for all fans of his work.

From Cuánta Cultura, we will follow this author who has made us enjoy so much with Fetch very closely. We are sure that he will continue to surprise us not only as an actor, but also through his fantasy stories.

Photo credits to Libreria Gigamesh's Facebook official page and Cuanta Cultura

Translated with DeepL Translator

Source: Cuanta Cultura

#black sails #luke arnold #john silver #book signing #book event #the fetch phillips series #cuanta cultura #interview #libreria gigamesh #gamon fantasy

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