#and i was struggling to think of how louis could treasure it in a way that didn't feel almost. exhibitionist

[naivety]

sorry but i hate that claudia's dress is hung up like it's in a museum. i know why it is, and it's sweet and tragic and i don't blame louis for trying to both honor and grieve her in this way, but i hate it <3 that her clothes fitted perfectly just for her by her immortal companion, just like her diaries, her own private thoughts penned down throughout her life, have been preserved and made perfect in bright open spotlight for gloved hands and watching eyes to feast on even in death. kinda hate it here

[neigetriestheirbest]

kiseki ep 12

SO

so ,,,, so - ahem -

If I were to talk about this episode we'd be here all year so imma just mention a few things that made me want to smash my head into a brick wall and then weep salty soup flavourings into my empty palms

suffice it to say that I thought this episode was 🙌👏👏💪👄😳🤩👌👌👌

so diving straight into the 'chen yi gets ai di a gift to show how well he knows him and wants him back'.

sigh

It's a handgun. a hand gun. and a short barrelled shotgun. with a loveheart on it.

and, like, for real, ai di's feckin sheer elation and joy at getting this --- I STRUGGLE TO FUNCTION

and chen yi's note of simply, "come back" - a plea, nonetheless. fuck.

then we have ai di's chilli spice punishment = lol. chen yi be like PSYCH I'm actually into that. and the easy way he just, boop, sweeps ai di up into his arms, like he's so lightweight and small. I love it. I think ai di loves it, too. chen yi certainly does, the amount of times he's yeeted ai di to a secondary location (street smarts!)

now, the reconciliation, and the love scene, I think, were done perfectly.

"as long as we are alive, I'll share our birthday with you, and you only."

the way ai di looks at chen yi after chen yi tells him that he loves him -- HMMMMMNNNNNNNNNNNGG -

the way that their first two kisses are gentle, sweet, soft and chaste. It's comforting, assuring, testing and slow. It sort of speaks to their relationship, of how they have known each other so long, of how their feelings are so deep, so complicated and yet so true and simple - it speaks long-term. It points to a way of thinking that they have time, now. time for each other, and to take it slow, to enjoy it. because they're finally on the same page.

also the staring - the lingering watchful eyes. both of them simply breathing and taking the other in, documenting that this is real; savouring its realness - esp ai di who seems torn between the euphoria of surrendering to the pleasure of it and the struggle to believe that it's really happening. even when they're kissing, ai di's eyes are often open, and watching.

once they're both shirtless - and ai di goes to kiss chen yi, dive back in, but chen yi stops him, takes a moment to pull back and just look at ai di. a moment just to hold him, regard him and treasure him, like he wants to forever remember this moment - because it's been FOUR YEARS MY DUDES and then he's touching along his back, his shoulders; kissing his chest, his arms; making sure ai di feels loved, and relishing the feel of his body

and when chen yi flips them over, so ai di is trapped beneath him, his knees splayed as wide af to accommodate chen yi between them (heh) and ai di is curling his toes into the bedsheets - chen yi kissing down his chest, he mouths at the cupid's bow base of his rib cage and it's 👌👌👌

and then they both have their hands in one another's hair, cradling their skulls, when ai di reaches up to kiss ah yi - and NAT'S FECKIN HANDS. they're the freaking size of louis' HEAD.

and louis with his stupid freaking insane capacity of facial expression with so little direction or introspection. these boys.. aiiii......

I loved it. I could talk about it forever. I think I'm just gonna watch it again.

If these guys don't get another series of their own, I swear to -

imma fuck shit up

[ghouldump]

HIIII I was wondering if you have any writing tips?? I’m in awe of your work and you make it seem so easy!! Don’t feel obligated to help if it’s too much to ask I just would love to know!!

hey, yes, of course, i'd love to help 🩷 i would assume every writer may have their own way, but i’ll give you a rundown on what has helped me:

— music to set the tone. this is more personal; i love music and i listen to anything, as long as it sounds good. during this time, is usually when i decide if i will do angst, fluff, etc and a general idea.

— imagination. this is the fun part, i’ve joked about maladaptive daydreaming, but i was kind of serious (lol). you have your general idea from the music, and you can start imagining how you want things to go.

— turning the vision into words. this part can be frustrating, but you don’t have to have everything figured out, starting writing. beginning to form the same imaginative thoughts into words.

— grammar checking. i think it is helpful to have something like grammarly to try to fix as many errors you can spot, or if you want to improve your wording.

— limitations can be well limiting. i think one of the most important tips, i would say is, don’t limit yourself, especially if you plan to write something as interesting as gothic horror. not only should you find the beauty within these characters, but darkness. if i’m writing about vampires, the scariest thing they could is not just drink from a mortal, but could potentially be as sinister as you allow because they are literally damned.

— fiction is fake at the end of the day. no matter the fandom, you don’t have to stick to an exact plot. you could easily make up anything with your desired characters because, in the end, it is all fake. (example, lestat is a human explorer, on a voyage for treasure when he discovers the beautiful newly crowned king of the fae, louis)

— patience. the draft option is like my best friend (lol) sometimes you will only have an idea of what you want to write about and sometimes you will take days to come up with something, so give yourself grace and have patience because there will be times when you can't think of anything to write.

— comparison is the theif of all joy. lastly, i struggled with this years ago, when i first started. worrying about my mutuals who also wrote, this or that, because i felt like they wrote better, had a better plot, or had more interactions. however, as i continue to write, i fall in love with the craft more and more, so much so that while i enjoy to read others writing, i can appreciate my own. all of my fics that have the least votes are my favorite, while the ones that have done well, i didn’t like too much.

i hope these tips are helpful for you, and if not, then i hope that you are able to find your own methods. you can do it! you think of your idea and let it flow from your brain as you type it. as easy as it looks, i still struggle with things, one of them is becoming deeply emotionally invested in my stories, and depending on the genre i am writing, i am left feeling gloomy, angry, frustrated, etc. feel free to message me again, if you have anymore questions, because i don’t mind helping in the slightest. 🩷

[unchartedthelostlegacy]

(original story, not chlodine, pls read if you’re bored ty) tw: family abuse

“We shouldn’t be here.”

Ray’s voice was small and shaky, and yet the echo ran along the cavern walls. His brother ignored him. Or maybe Nick just didn’t hear.

Ray’s finger shook, even, as he traced it over the map, smudged tendrils of ink weaving in and out of each other. Ray could only see it by the torch his brother held above it; around them was pitch black.

“Where do we go?” grunted Nick.

“We should,” Ray said, and gulped, and continued, “We should turn back—oof!”

His brother had kicked him, knocking over the map, and strode past, the torch’s sphere of light leaving Ray behind.

“Wait!”

Ray grabbed the map and ran down the rough-hewn steps, the curving steps that led downward, after Nick. It was unsettling that they were in a chamber huge enough to hold their whole town and have space, so much space left—he knew so by the map, and the writings of E. Louis—but they couldn’t see it.

But Ray could hear how big it was. He swore even his breathing echoed, and his brother’s heavy footsteps sounded like there was an entire squadron walking with him. Every tiny sound spoke of the cave’s grandeur.

Nick had stopped, not to allow his brother to catch up, but because he’d come to a fork. Two wide banks of rock rose from the uneven ground, crackled and pitted. And dusty. Ray had never seen such patterns in stone before.

“Which way?” Nick muttered without looking behind him.

Ray’s whole body was shaking now. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, and swallowed. It felt like the cave, big as it was, ate light, making them smaller and smaller, closing them in.

“Ray.” Nick whipped turned to look over his shoulder, his face scrunched up in anger. Even with him being the older brother, his expressions hadn’t changed from when he was a child. “What does that map of yours say?”

There was an undercurrent of threat in his tone.

“We go back,” Ray said. His breathing wasn’t normal. “We go back. This is their—this is their graveyard, Nick. This is where they—URGH!”

His brother’s boot connected with his solar plexus, and Ray rolled back, his map, his guide, his walking stick falling aside. His brother had bent down before he even came to a stop completely, screaming into his face.

“I don’t CARE! You’re only with me to help me find it, got that?!”

I don’t care you’re only, I don’t care you’re only, echoed the cave. The sentence splintered, sounds reflecting off other sounds, getting distantly more unintelligible.

“This is where they buried their dead!” Ray yelled back, one hand on his stomach and the other behind him. “You’re gonna rob their—we need to respect their dead, Nick! We’re going back!”

“They’re just skeletons with treasure, idjit!”

Behind Nick, outside of the thin sphere of torchlight, something fell.

Ray didn’t think Nick heard it. But looking past his brother, he saw something else.

“Which way do we go?” hollered Nick, spit flying, but Ray didn’t even look at him. Behind his brother, the rocks were moving.

They were separating from the ground.

Another few chips hit the ground, and Nick’s face went blank, and he finally turned his body, his mouth pressed into a thin, straight line, to look.

The eyes, they only saw because they dully caught the torchlight. Half-blind cave eyes. Ray was struggling to connect them to a body, a shape, anything, but the paltry light they had only showed them one thing.

That those rocks had been claws.

And having raised off the ground a man’s height, the claws now slammed back down with a deafening smash, sending Nick swearing, bowled over backwards, the torch falling, and Ray reaching for it for fear of being utterly abandoned in blackness. But his hand never even made it. He was both paralyzed and trembling.

And as the torch flickered on the ground, as Nick cried out and clumsily reached for his sidearm, the eyes, wide as oil barrels, came into their tiny, visible space. A flat nose lay between them, Ray surmised, as the torch went ballistic; the creature was breathing. The eyes themselves were perfectly round, pale, filled with thick veins.

And then the mouth opened.

For God’s sake.

Each tooth was the size of a railroad spike—and looked like it was made of much the same stuff. And there were two, three rows. But the creature hadn’t opened its mouth to eat them.

“You.” came a voice like no other. A voice that sent no echo into the cavern, a voice Ray could have sworn was in his own mind.

Except for the fact that Nick screamed, “The bastard talks?!”

Talks, talks, talks…

“You,” repeated the ethereal voice, the timbre of thunder, “will not speak to him like that.”

And Ray realized it.

The eyes were on Nick.

And it had raised its claw so it could point to him.

Nick had found his revolver. The gunshots were deafening, echoing, and Ray pressed his palms over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, but it felt like they rattled the inside of his brain regardless. His brother had let the torch almost burn out.

Nick’s yells as he presumably tried to reload, in the dark, after aiming, in the dark, rang and echoed too as Ray patted the ground around him, heart racing, searching for his satchel. He found it, found his walking stick, who knows where the map had gone, but he rummaged in it, found the tinder-box—and then by him came a blur.

His brother’s heavy footsteps, dashing back.

Ray would be alone.

He shut his eyes—not that it would make a difference—and pulled his tinder-box forward with shaking hands.

“So loud,” said the voice, as he frantically struck the flint, as the sparks showed him the dead torch a few feet away, “So...hurtful.”

Ray should have crawled, on hands and knees, and grabbed for the torch. That was what his survival instincts were telling him to do, after all.

But he sat.

His heart’s pounding, his breathing’s quick and sharp dizzy-making push, came to him in the silence. But so did the voice.

“Mortal?”

“Mortal?”

It repeated the word until he swallowed, drew a lungful of breath.

And, hands shaking, reached for the torch.

Nothing hit or swatted or crushed or ate Ray while he struggled with the tinder-box in one hand and the torch in the other, trying not to set fire to his clothes. When he finally succeeded, he struggled with putting it back in his satchel, with holding it aloft while he searched for the scattered things around him.

But after a time, he had collected what he could, glancing around the dusty rock floor, and then he turned to what he’d been avoiding looking at.

The glassy and pale eyes.

“Mortal,” came the voice again. It did not echo. No, for certain, both he and his brother had heard it between their ears instead of through them.

“H-hello,” Ray said.

He did not know how big the creature was. The light only showed him its eyes and a nose that almost sunk into its greyish pitted face, above him, observing.

“Hello, mortal,” said the voice again. “You are injured.”

Ray gasped. Not because he had forgotten that Nick had kicked him, forgotten entirely about the pain in his solar plexus.

The fact that the monster was thinking of his wellbeing had just hit him harder.

Ray sank to his knees. He didn’t see the tears, but he felt them, squeezing his eyes shut.

[silverfoxlou]

In Louis’ Prysm Banquet Q & A, when he was asked “Did you have someone in mind when you were writing Fearless?” and he said: (12:36)

I always struggle to talk about this song because I don’t want it to come across as offensive and that (aka it’s a diss track but he won’t outright say it) but some people are immature little dickheads like me, and some people are really old in their thought processes. It was kind of just ‘I’ve seen you before when you were young, so let’s see a bit of that wreckless stupid side again.’

Sometimes I think Fearless might be about himself purely because of the “mom I did it” but then when I heard this interview it seems more like it might actually be subtle shade at someone he’s grown up with like a childhood friend or a bandmate, or an ex that he’s watched change as they got older. I know one person in particular from Louis’ life, who always hangs out with people way older than him which might have resulted in that “older, more boring, always playing it safe thought process” that Louis is referring to in the song. What’s your opinion on this?

Fearless is definitely the closest thing to a diss track on Walls. 

Could it be about himself? Maybe. Every time he talks about the song (Pryzm Banquet Q&A, track by track, for Apple Music) he talks about being at an age where he’s aware of life getting more serious, but wanting to reminded of reckless youth (something he echoed when he was describing Kill My Mind too though... even that song has other interpretations that aren’t just being young and doing stupid things). And that’s what he’s asking in the chorus of the song - being young and remembering what it was like to be brave and just live life. 

But he never really addresses the verses, where he’s almost looking down on the life the person he’s singing to has chosen (weekend treasures / suit and tie, a second wife / the life you design, that car on the drive) because he knows that it’s all lies. 

The verses, to me, don’t make sense to be dedicated to himself. But I also find it hard to believe this song is for a childhood friend. He’s conscious of working-class struggles that he wouldn’t direct a song like this, where he’s almost judging the person he’s singing to for enjoying material wealth, at his childhood friends. Especially when he talks about needing them to keep him grounded from the fame.

So, since he’s known this person for a long time, and has slowly watched the spark disappear from their eyes... It does seem likely that it’s a former bandmate. A former bandmate that went from being fearless and full of joy to cold and calculating in the pursuit of fame and money. Someone whose entire life has become a series of “safe” boardroom decisions that will protect his name and future legacy. And Louis isn’t exactly subtle about how he thinks this life is “offensive” and that they should be reminded of when they were younger and less controlled by the decisions made when they were older. 

tl;dr Yeah. It’s about Harry. 

[ericsonclan]

The Words I Always Wanted to Say

Summary

Overall Word Count

Chapter 1: The day of the proposals arrives with neither member of the couple suspecting what's in store.

Aasim had felt like puking all day. It wasn’t the sort of mood he’d hoped to be in on the day of his proposal, but he knew deep inside that postponing it wouldn’t make him feel any better. He’d already rescheduled three times and each day that was supposed to be the day had brought the same queasiness. His nerves would get to him no matter what. He simply had to power through.

Still, if he waited a bit longer then maybe he could rethink the whole picnic aspect of the proposal and spare his stomach the struggle…. No. Clementine would kill Aasim if he told her he was moving back his plans again. She’d already given him enough grief about the ring he’d held onto for a year. If he rescheduled for a fourth time, Clem wouldn’t need to throw Aasim to the walkers. She’d bite off his head herself.

Walking toward the front of the courtyard, Aasim spotted the object of his affections, his one true love. Ruby was making conversation with Clementine, something about the weather and what they should do about the vegetable garden if things got too stormy. Clementine spotted Aasim coming their way and excused herself, giving Aasim a knowing look before walking off. She and Omar were going hunting today.

Ruby noticed Aasim coming toward her a moment later. Turning toward him with a smile, she started to speak just as he did.

“Do you-” Both of them paused, waiting for the other to speak but the silence lasted a moment too long and they both started again. “I wanted to ask-” They stopped again, chuckling at their timing.

“You go first,” Ruby said, waiting patiently.

Aasim cleared his throat, swallowing the lump in it before he spoke again. “I was thinking today would be lovely for a picnic. Are you free?”

Ruby’s brows furrowed slightly. “Well, actually, I had some work I needed to finish up in the greenhouse,”

“I can wait,” Aasim leaned back against the picnic table, trying his best to look casual.

“Actually, it could take a while. Maybe you’d like to join me?” A small smile played on Ruby’s lips.

“…No. We need to do the picnic. Now,”

“But you just said you could wait,”

“I-I lied!” Aasim could feel his face heating up. This was a terrible start. Maybe he should abort today’s proposal after all.

Just as Ruby was about to say something further though, Prisha’s hand appeared on Ruby’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Ruby. I can make sure everything is sorted out in the greenhouse. It’ll be ready for you once you’re done with your picnic,” She looked meaningfully into the redhead’s eyes till Ruby sighed and nodded.

“Alright. It can wait a bit longer, I guess,” Turning back to Aasim, she slipped her warm hand into his. “Now whereabouts did you say this picnic was?”

“If you’ll just follow me…” Aasim turned toward the admin building, his breathing gradually returning to normal. His heart however still beat a frantic staccato within his chest. As they walked, he looked down at his love. “I’m sorry if I was forceful back there. It wasn’t my intention,”

“I know,” Ruby gave her boyfriend’s hand a small squeeze, a soft smile on her face. “It’s sweet of you to put a surprise together for me. My plans can wait,”

“As soon as our picnic is done, I can head over to the greenhouse with you and help finish up whatever work needs to be done,”

“That’d be heavenly,” The sparkle in Ruby’s eyes set Aasim’s heart fluttering. He knew how much the greenhouse meant to her. And time spent together after the proposal, just the two of them, sharing kisses over the planters full of turnips and tubers, would be the perfect ending to what Aasim hoped would be a truly magical day.

Ascending the staircase within the admin building, the pair made their way to the headmaster’s office. Ruby looked round in mild confusion. “Are we grabbing snacks from here and then heading out?”

“Actually, I had a special spot in mind for our picnic today,” Aasim nodded toward the double doors that led out to the balcony. Ruby quirked an eyebrow then headed over to the closed doors. Opening them slowly, she gasped when she saw the spread set out before them.

A faded gingham picnic blanket held the treasure trove of treats Aasim had amassed in the last few weeks. A multi-tiered tea tray constructed out of welded pieces of scrap metal held a multitude of tiny sandwiches. Each was composed out of a pair of old saltines with various fillings in the center from sliced spam to stewed rabbit Omar had prepped in the fashion of pulled pork to garden veggie sandwiches with all manner of fresh vegetables nestled between the stale crackers. Beside the tea tray lay their three teapots, each chipped and broken but still retaining their original dignity and grace. The varied aromas drifting from them told Ruby they each held a different blend of tea. Their finest set of china was also stacked neatly to the side, ready for fine dining. A cracked porcelain container held a good portion of the sparse supply of sugar the group had stowed away accompanied by a small jar Ruby knew to be the last of their honey. A huge bouquet composed of various wildflowers gave the finishing touch to the romantic display.

“Oh, Aasim…” Ruby was at a loss for words as she took everything in.

Silently, Aasim wrapped his arms round Ruby and gently kissed her cheek as he hugged her from behind. “I wanted to put together a surprise worthy of you,”

“This is all too much! Why, if we use up the last of the sugar-”

“Then I’ll trade for more. Don’t worry, my dove. I always find a way,” Loosening his embrace, Aasim sat upon the picnic blanket and motioned for Ruby to do the same.

The two of them settled in for a decadent lunch, both of them eating their fill as the world went by around them, the clouds drifting lazily across the warm, sunny sky as the day went on. As Aasim poured another cup of chamomile tea for Ruby, he found himself lost for a moment in her bright blue eyes. He really could stay like this forever with her. And that’s exactly what this proposal meant: a promise of forever. Not just for things to stay the same but for them to build a future together. Feeling the panic rise within once more, Aasim did his best to keep his composure.

“Something bugging ya, Pookie?” Ruby looked at Aasim over the rim of her teacup as she took a sip.

“It’s nothing, my love,” Aasim paused for a moment, looking out at the courtyard below. Willy was on watch with AJ beside him. Both boys were chatting excitedly, clearly intrigued by something just beyond the walls. Likely a funny looking walker knowing those two. Louis and Violet were at the picnic benches, Louis mending a pair of pants while Violet worked on one of the rabbit hides she was in the process of tanning. Prisha had just emerged from the cellar with a box full of metal pipes balanced in her good arm, likely continuing her seemingly endless quest to restore the school’s plumbing. Turning back to Ruby, Aasim grinned. “Do you know why I chose the balcony for our picnic today?”

“The view?” Ruby mused, glancing through the repair section of the railing down at their friends below.

“That was certainly a factor, but not entirely the full reason. I wanted us to have our lunch up here in order to celebrate all we’ve accomplished. From up here you can see it all: the greenhouse, the vegetable garden, the paddock for Molly, Milky Way and Comet. Even a few years ago, we didn’t have any of those things. It shows how far we’ve come, and I think a primary factor in our success is each other. Together, you and I truly can accomplish anything, even returning a former wilderness to civilization,”

Ruby nodded, admiring their work along with Aasim. “We certainly have accomplished a lot these past few years. And that’s thanks in no small part to you. I don’t think anybody could compete with your work ethic, ‘Sim, not even me,”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Aasim turned back to Ruby, his eyes on her. “Perhaps it isn’t the most romantic thing to say, but one of the things that first drew me to you was seeing how hard you worked. Every day, rain or shine, without fail. At first I thought it was simply a matter of pride, as it is with me. But the longer I observed you, the more I realized why you really work so hard. It’s out of love. You work so that those you love can have better lives and I can’t think of anything nobler than that,”

“Sounds like you were watching me for quite some time,” Ruby looked down at the picnic blanket, her cheeks ruddier than usual. “Now that I think about it, I never asked you what the moment was that made you realize you were falling for me,”

“I don’t think it was any one moment. For a long time, I saw my admiration of you simply as mutual respect. But as the years went on, my feelings gradually shifted into something more. Seeing you grow from the girl who stole my pencil case on my first day at Ericson into such a beautiful, fiery woman of integrity and valor, I can’t remember when I crossed that line from liking to loving you. But I do know this, Ruby O’Donnel. I have loved you for a long, long time,”

Reaching into his pocket, Aasim pulled out the wedding ring. He’d spent the last few weeks polishing it night after night till it glowed with its original radiance once more. It was far too large for Ruby’s finger, likely a man’s ring before, but the beauty of the symbol was there nonetheless. Shifting so that he knelt with one knee forward just as he’d always seen it done in books and long-lost movies, Aasim held up the ring in both hands. “Ruby, my love, will you marry me?”

Ruby was quiet for a second. Then another. Aasim could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he held his pose wondering if someway, somehow, this had been the wrong move to make. Finally, Ruby broke the silence. “I want to show you something. Come with me,”

She could tell Aasim was nervous. Hell, she would be too if he’d left her high and dry after asking the question first. Ruby felt a twinge of guilt at leaving him so perplexed just for the sake of her pride, but she couldn’t say yes just yet. There was something she needed to do first, the very thing she’d been planning in the greenhouse before Aasim sprung the surprise picnic upon her. It wasn’t far to the greenhouse. Once they were there, he’d see why she’d brought him.

The courtyard was empty as they walked through it and the area surrounding the greenhouse too. Aasim looked more and more nervous with each step he took but followed Ruby willingly, obliging her when she opened the greenhouse door for him and motioned for Aasim to enter first. As soon as he did, Aasim let out a reverent gasp.

The entire greenhouse was aglow with candlelight. Mason jars of purple, red and green covered every inch of the space, lined up along the shelves, on the edges of planters, tucked along the sides of the walkways and even a few suspended above them. Some strands of twinkle lights also ran along the bases of the planters, bartered in a recent trade Aasim had been a part of. Flower petals were scattered over the ground, all leading to a central point before their feet. The petals there formed a simple message: I love you.

“Do you like it?” Ruby whispered, causing Aasim to turn round.

“Ruby, I… it’s glorious,” Aasim’s voice caught a bit, his eyes watering lightly.

“Now that you’ve seen it, I bet you’ve figured out why I wanted to go so badly to the greenhouse earlier today. And why I didn’t want to say yes just yet. Cause first I want to say my piece,” Clearing her throat, Ruby pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper from her pocket and began to read. “My love, I can’t remember the first time my eyes turned in your direction in that special way. I’d always thought you were cute, but considering that our early days started with me being more than a bit of a bully to ya, I never thought anything would come of that. Then the world fell apart and we were both so busy surviving I didn’t even let myself believe love was anywhere in my future.

But somewhere along the way, deep within my heart of hearts, I think I always wanted it to be you. Truth be told, our first kiss might have happened a couple days sooner if you’d just asked more politely. I’m happy with the way things ended up though. I’ll never forget our first kiss and I’ll never stop thanking the good Lord you came back to me that day.

This has been something I’ve wanted to do for a while. More than a while, probably from the very start. But I had all sorts of silly thoughts in my head that you had to be the one to propose first or it wouldn’t be proper. That was all a load of horse apples though. So, I put all this together to ask you a question, a question I hope you’ll answer the way I’ve been dreaming. Aasim…” Ruby paused, fishing something out of her pocket. Lifting it up, she revealed a tiny, glittery pink ring, so small it would probably only fit on Aasim’s pinky. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes! Yes!” Before either of them could say anything further, Aasim cupped Ruby’s face and pressed his lips to hers in a deep kiss. That kiss turned to another then another till finally Aasim pulled back and took the ring Ruby had offered. Slipping it as far down as it would go onto his pinky, Aasim held his hand out to admire it.

“Darn, it’s an even worse fit than I thought,” Ruby mumbled. “I’ve been searching all over God’s green earth for a proper ring of some sort and all I could scrounge up was this dress up ring I had from way back before the school even fell,”

“I love it,” Reaching toward the table behind her, Aasim grabbed a length of twine and the gardening shears and snipped off a portion of it. Slipping the ring onto the twine, he tied it around his neck, letting the ring rest just below the zipper on his hoodie. “Honestly, mine is probably an awful fit too. It’s embarrassing really,”

“Are you kidding? You propose with a bona fide gold ring while I use a cereal box prize and you’re acting as if it’s the same thing?” Ruby shook her head, taking the twine and scissors from him and cutting her own piece. Gingerly taking the ring from Aasim, Ruby looped it though the twine then tied it round her neck where it lay snugly just below the collar of her shirt.

The two of them smiled at each other, lost in the happiness of the moment before chuckles escaped their lips.

“I can’t believe it,” Aasim murmured, shaking his head. “For both of us to choose the exact same day… what are the odds? When you didn’t answer my proposal and brought me down to the greenhouse instead, I wasn’t sure what to expect, perhaps a rejection, but certainly not this.”

“Now that’s the silliest thing I ever heard!” Ruby exclaimed, lightly whacking her betrothed on the arm. “As if I’d ever say no to you! I just didn’t want you to steal my thunder!” Her eyes turned to the greenhouse, admiring the décor. “Thank goodness Prisha knew the last few pieces of the plan to get this greenhouse gussied up. I don’t know what would have happened without her help,”

“Prisha knew? She and Willy were the ones who made that tea tray for the picnic! She was in on both plans,” Aasim looked toward the door. “Was she the only one who helped you set this up?”

“Well, Louis was involved too. He was the first one I told about the proposal,”

“And if Louis knew then Clementine knew. Clem was the first one I confided in about the ring,”

The couple shared a look. How far did the others’ involvement go? The courtyard had suddenly been empty as they were heading toward the greenhouse. Was it still empty now? Hand in hand, the pair opened the door and stepped outside.

The courtyard was no longer empty after all. In fact, everyone was there. The others stood round one of the picnic tables, chattering excitedly. As soon as they saw Aasim and Ruby though, they suddenly went quiet. That was until AJ stepped forward.

“Happy wedding!” he shouted, tossing a handful of tinsel into the air. Willy joined him, throwing his own handful and blowing enthusiastically on an old kazoo.

“Boys, remember, it’s ‘happy engagement,’” Prisha corrected gently before her eyes returned to the happy pair. “Congratulations, you two. We couldn’t be happier for you,”

“It’s like I’m giving away my own children,” Louis commented, wiping a mock tear from his eye. “They grow up so fast,”

Clementine shook her head good-naturedly, taking Louis’ hand in hers. “Congratulations, both of you. Seeing as we all knew both your plans, we’ve been working on a little surprise of our own,”

“It’s PANCAKE DAY!” Willy shouted, jumping around ecstatically. Omar lifted up a plate of pancakes that had been hidden on the picnic benches, Violet holding a second plate. Both of them smiled at the happy couple.

Aasim and Ruby shared a smile of their own then stepped forward, joining the group for the celebratory feast. The day hadn’t gone how either of them had expected, yet it had blossomed into something more beautiful than they’d ever dreamed. As Ruby sat down at the picnic table, Aasim’s hand in hers, her family surrounding her, her cheeks glowed with excitement. “Let’s get to planning some weddings!”

[crowdvscritic]

round up // JANUARY 21

New year, not-so-new Crowd vs. Critic! It’s another batch of films, TV, music, and reads that were new to me this month and think you would enjoy, too. As we cozy up inside for the winter, nothing warms you up like a good piece of pop culture.

January Crowd-Pleasers

Wonder Woman 1984 (2020)

Does this sequel reach the heights of 2017’s Wonder Woman? No, but I wish more superhero movies were like this one. I explain why at ZekeFilm. Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 8/10

21 Bridges (2019)

A solid action crime thriller with a solid Chadwick Boseman at the center. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

The Lethal Weapon Series (1987-98)

I watched the first Lethal Weapon in 2017 for ZekeFilm, but now I’ve a decade’s pleasure of progressively over-the-top action sequences and progressively more absurd ways to destroy Roger Murtaugh’s (Danny Glover) house. The Murtaugh/Riggs bromance holds this progressively sillier series together, and an supporting cast of charismatic actors (Jet Li, Darlene Love, Chris Rock, Rene Russo) are game for whatever comes their way. Joe Pesci is the true MVP. Series Crowd: 9/10 // Series Critic: 7/10

The High Note (2020)

Tracee Ellis Ross’s Grace Davis is a diva in every sense of the word. A high-strung and highly successful singer, she’s also highly demanding of her assistant Maggie (Dakota Johnson), who wants to step out of her shadow and become a music producer. This rom-com-adjacent flick is one of the most fun escapes I’ve had from a 2020 movie, and it’s perfect for a girls’ night in. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10

Double Feature—Rom-Coms With a Magical Twist: Just My Luck (2006) + When In Rome (2010)

Disclaimer: These movies are not good. In fact, they’re junk, but they’re my kind of junk. In Just My Luck (Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 6/10), Lindsay Lohan loses her life-long lucky streak when she kisses schlimazel Chris Pine. And When in Rome (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 6/10), Kristen Bell attracts unwanted admirers (Will Arnett, Danny DeVito, Josh Duhamel, Jon Heder, and real-life future husband Dax Shepard) after she steals their coins from a wishing fountain. To their credit, both of these movies know they’re silly, which means you have permission to just sit back and laugh along with (or, honestly, at) them.

WandaVision (2021)

I sometimes fear for the world of entertainment when I think of how much intellectual property Disney has gobbled up, but WandaVision is evidence the company is a benevolent dictator at least for now. This odd delight is a send up and a tribute to sitcoms like I Love Lucy, I Dream of Jeannie, and The Brady Bunch, and Paul Bettany and Elizabeth Olsen are so charming and weird I don’t need whatever mysterious sub-plot they’re building.

Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

If you want to make the most of watching Robin Hood: Men in Tights, first watch Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991), an action flick I saw last February and didn’t include in my monthly Round Up. This Mel Brooks spoof is a direct response that self-serious Kevin Costner adventure, even down to copying its costumes. While I wish I could find a Mel Brooks comedy with any substantial female character (in every movie I’ve seen so far, the joke is either, “She’s got a great rack!” or “Wow, she’s an uggo!”), I still couldn’t stop laughing at this 104-minute version of the Robin Hood scene in Shrek. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10

Aliens (1986)

Peak ‘80s action. Peak alien grossness. Peak girl boss Sigourney Weaver. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/.510

Big (1988)

After talking about Laverne & Shirley with Kyla on SO IT’S A SHOW?, I had to check out Penny Marshall’s classic. While a few moments haven’t aged so well, its heart is sweet and the script is hilarious. And that Tom Hanks? I think he’s going places. Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 8/10

Unstoppable (2010)

I’ve laughed at SNL’s spoof of this movie for a decade, so it’s about time I got around to enjoying this action thriller very loosely based on the true story of a train that got away from its conductor. Denzel Washington (“You’re too old!”) and Chris Pine (“You’re too young!”) are our heroes in this over-the-top ridiculousness, and their chemistry is so extra it makes me hope they team up for another movie again. Crowd:  9/10 // Critic: 7/10

January Critic Picks

Double Feature—‘90s Space Adventures: Apollo 13 (1995) + Contact (1997)

I have no desire to join Tom Cruise as he films in space, but I know I’ll be pumped to watch whatever he makes because I love sci-fi and space  adventures. Apollo 13 (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 9/10) tells the story of an almost-disastrous NASA mission in the ‘60s, and it taps into our hope for the human spirit to overcome obstacles. Contact (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10) surmises what might happen if we received communication from extraterrestrial life, and it taps into our struggle to reconcile faith and science.

McCartney III by Paul McCartney (2020)

I spent January catching up on the albums on Best of 2020 lists, and the one I listened to for hours and hours was Paul McCartney’s latest solo album. Catchy, thoughtful, and musically surprising, it ranges from pop to rock to folk in 45 minutes and still feels like it’s over too soon. Like Tom Hanks, this Paul McCartney guy is going places!

The Thin Man Series (1934-47)

Like Lethal Weapon, I watched the first installment of The Thin Man awhile back, and Kyla and I even covered the series on our podcast. But thanks to a full series marathon on TCM earlier this month, I’ve now laughed through all five. When you talk about great chemistry, you’ve got to talk about William Powell and Myrna Loy, who make Nick and Nora’s marriage feel lived in and romantic as they solve crimes together. Witty, suspenseful, and jaunty, this series is still sexy cool over 80 years later. (Also, Asta? Still one of the cutest dogs in cinema.) Series Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

The King and I (1956)

Here’s your regularly scheduled reminder Hollywood works differently now, and many casting decisions of the ‘50s wouldn’t fly today. What has aged well in this film: The Rodgers and Hammerstein music and the sumptuous costumes and set design. I love extravagant musicals of yesteryear—perhaps it’s time for Hollywood to revisit and remake The King and I for modern audiences?

Inauguration Day

In a year with no major televised events with celebrities in a room together, Inauguration Day felt like the most exciting cultural event in ages. We’ve been missing major fashion, but then we got Lady Gaga! We’ve been missing live performances, but then we got Amanda Gorman! And I got a lot of tears during that poem—not just me, right?

Good Reads

Writing that made me think and smile this month:

Steven Soderbergh’s list of everything he read, watched, and listened to this year, Extension765.com (2020) – An indirect inspiration for these monthly Round Ups!

“My Year of Making Lists,” NewYorker.com (2020) – I made a lot of lists in 2020, so I feel this author’s #mood

“Betty White Says She Will Spend Her 99th Birthday Feeding Two Ducks Who Visit Her ‘Every Day,’“ CBSNews.com (2021) - “Betty is a treasure,” I say as I watch The Proposal for the 99th time

“A Sculpture’s Unusual Journey to SLAM [St. Louis Art Museum],” SLAM.org (2020) – With a casual mention of an attraction I never knew about in St. Louis

“The Culture Is Ailing. It’s Time for a Dr. Fauci for the Arts.” WashingtonPost.com (2020) – An idea that occurred to me a few months ago: Why don’t we have an Arts Cabinet?

“The Arts Are in Crisis. Here’s How Biden Can Help.” NYTimes.com (2021) – Partly in response to that Washington Post piece, a historical look at how artists have made it through difficult times in the past and how we can revive artists’ livelihoods mid- and post-pandemic

“The Right’s Message to Silicon Valley: 'Free Speech for Me, But Not for Thee,'” TIME.com (2021) – A more thoughtful and less reactionary take on a volatile moment in the history of modern technology

“'It Makes Me Sick With Grief': Trump's Presidency Divided Families. What Happens to Them Now?” TIME.com (2021) – A study on how politics has done damage to family dynamics in America

“Help, the Only Cinema I Can Handle Is Zac Efron Prancing Angrily in High School Musical 2,” Vulture.com (2021) - In a lot of ways, same

“50 Easy Things To Do When You are Anxious,” ShopTwentySeven.com (2021) – I especially endorse coloring, puzzling, and watching happy movies!

Double Feature—Miss Marple Mysteries: Murder at the Gallop (1963) + Murder Ahoy (1964)

Remember when I was all like, “Watch these Agatha Christie movies so you’re not sad Death on the Nile is delayed”? Remember when I said I was just a few movies away from becoming an Agatha Christie junkie? Well, I think I’m there because I can’t stop with the murder mysteries! Margaret Rutherford is a treasure whether she’s solving a murder at a horse ranch or on a boat, and a cast of colorful supporting characters (including Rutherford’s husband) makes these breezy instead of heavy. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8/10

8½ (1963)

File this with 2001: A Space Odyssey—I don’t know if I really understood this film, but I think I liked it? Federico Fellini’s surrealist, male gaze-y drama blurs the lines between reality and imagination, love and dysfunction, and the past and maybe some future that involves clowns? What resonated with me was the story of a director with creative block, wondering if he’s already peaked and if he’ll create anything worthwhile again. Crowd: 6/10 // Critic: 9/10

Sense and Sensibility: The Screenplay and Diaries by Emma Thompson (1995)

Sense and Sensibility is not just one of my favorite Jane Austen adaptations—it’s one of my all-time favorite films. One of the co-hosts of one of my favorite podcasts has raved many-a-time about Emma Thompson’s journals from the making of film, so it was only a matter of time before I read them myself. Witty, informative, and all-around lovely, Thompson’s journals are an excellent insight into the filmmaking process and how novels are adapted.

Also in January…

I reviewed the new-ish documentary Flannery for ZekeFilm, which is all about the writer Flannery O’Connor and feels a little like going back to high school English class.

In addition to the Lethal Weapon and Thin Man series, I rewatched all of the X-Men series this month. You can see everything I am watching on Letterboxd, including favorites I love returning to (i.e. X-Men: Days of Future Past) and the movies I try that don’t make my monthly recommendations (i.e. The Wolverine).

Photo credits: Paul McCartney, Zac Efron, Sense & Sensibility. All others IMDb.com.

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Fourteen

Previous Chapter HERE

Warnings: Language, NSFW Language

Tags: @jennmurawski13 @kelbabyblue

Note: Apologies, this is a repost from yesterday for reasons I won’t go into now. i hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Fourteen

Sarah jostled with the mail as she entered their building, trying hard not to knock over the newest fresh plant currently adorning the entrance. They usually took it in turns to handle the post and whatever parcels the Supervisor had signed for that day but she was starting to feel a little short-changed as Shanna had consistently more post coming her way these days. Sarah realised she needed to get out more. Carting everything up the stairs was starting to become its own workout. Today’s treasures involved two Nasty Gal packages, a package from Pottery Barn, a box from Amazon, and what appeared to be a free sample of a Louis Vuitton fragrance. Sarah might just keep that last one to herself.

Jocelyn had sent another care package of sorts her way but it only served to remind Sarah that she had not called her folks in over a week. Ever since the accident, Jocelyn had been so consumed with worry that she had taken to sending Sarah articles ripped form magazines and gift cards for relaxation therapies. Despite Sarah’s many protests to the contrary, Jocelyn was sure Sarah was struggling with some form of undiagnosed PTSD. She’d read about it in a magazine. “If affects upwards of half a million American every year, honey.”

After successfully dodging the neighbour’s schnauzer, she eventually reached their floor and was just about to turn her key in the lock when the door swung wide open. Before she had time to react, she was brought face to face with a stressed-out Shanna, hair dripping wet from a shower. Not her favourite Shanna it had to be said. Not even in the Top Ten.

She grabbed Sarah by both shoulders. “I don’t know what I’m going to wear, Sarah! I’ve got less than an hour!”

“And hello to you, too!” Sarah smiled broadly, almost comically so, before Shanna lowered her head in embarrassment and moved out of the way so Sarah could physically get into her own home. She held the packages up. “Maybe there is something in here?”

Shanna shook her head. “No, they’re more summery. More formal.” She’d started fluttering around Sarah in a panic. “Do you still have that leather midi skirt? Do you think I could fit into it?”

“Uhh yeh it’s in the back of my closet somewhere.” she remembered. “Might be a bit warm, though? What are you gonna wear with it?”

“Well it’s a punky kind of bar, think it has live music and stuff so I thought maybe that Rolling Stones t-shirt and the maroon boots? Keep my hair down and casual?”

“So basically all of my clothes?” Sarah retorted. Shanna pressed her hands together in prayer and gave her the best pitiful smile she could manage, one she knew Sarah couldn’t resist. Shanna seemed to genuinely like this guy and if this guy was as charming and as smart as she told her he was, Sarah was sure she would like him, too. Hell, he’d be best friends with Scott and Chris in no time so long as he enjoyed football, Sam Adams, and didn’t put points on Shanna’s licence.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll see what I can pull together. Do you wanna borrow that heart necklace of mine? If you’re wearing your hair down, it’s probably best you avoid wearing earrings unless you want me to cut you out of them again.” Sarah shouted as she walked into her room unaware that Shanna had followed her closely behind.

“Oh god I hadn’t even thought that far. You know what, I might just cancel. This is just too much right now and I’m not even sure if he really likes me as anything more than a friend.” She feigned a dramatic flop onto Sarah’s bed, one arm landing across her forehead. Sarah delved through her closet to locate the desired items. If Shanna was threatening to cancel the date already, it must be serious.

“How many of you are going to this club?” Sarah asked, emerging from the closet doorway.

“Don’t know. Think three or four from my department and another couple from his?” she responded, hopelessness evident in her voice. Shanna never did well with vagueness where guys were concerned; everything had to be black and white with her.

“Come on, you’ve still got time.” Sarah encouraged as she carried some clothes and a couple of pairs of boots towards the bed. “Dry your hair and we’ll figure this out, OK?”

“Have I told you how much I love you lately?” Shanna pouted and Sarah tried to shrug off the pit growing in her stomach from her words. Shanna used every ounce of energy she could muster to get up and drag herself back into the bathroom leaving Sarah shaking her head.

It was only a rare occasion when Shanna took less time getting ready in the bathroom. Sarah had fond memories of shouting through the door back when they were at college and deciding to move in together required a complete 180 degree shift in her expectations. Still, in less than half an hour, here she emerged fully dressed, primer and foundation applied, and hair dried accordingly. It was a miracle of epic proportions and if she hadn’t shoved some false eyelashes into Sarah’s hand, Sarah would have snapped a photograph to send to the family as evidence that their little girl was growing up.

Thanks to her professional, steady hand, Sarah was always the eyelash-fixer among their group. While fixing a couple of lashes to the corners of her eyes, Sarah’s phone buzzed. It buzzed a couple more times in quick succession and she would have managed to ignore it had it not been for Shanna’a roving eye.

“Looks like someone wants you.” she murmured, trying her hardest not to move as Sarah held the glued lash in place with some tweezers.

“It’ll just be Audrey probably.” Sarah responded in no rush to check for herself, keeping a firm hold on what she was doing.

Shanna tried glancing to her side one more time to catch who it was but couldn’t quite make it out. It buzzed again. “I’d hate for you to miss out on a date with Greg on account of helping piece my pathetic love life together. Oooh maybe we could double-date!”

Shanna’s exclaim nearly caused Sarah to lose her grip on the tweezers but a sharp intake of breath convinced Shanna to give up the inquisition. “Sorry. Sorry.” she held her hands up as an apology before feeling Sarah’s hands relax as she moved across to the other eye.

Sarah was pleased to see Shanna eventually leave their apartment. Not because she wanted the peace particularly but just because it was nice to see her get excited over a guy that wasn’t Ben. She looked gorgeous, too. Sarah was quite proud of her work. If it wasn’t to be a proper date, it definitely would be after tonight. Robbie would be an absolute fool to miss out.

It was only when she slumped dow onto the couch and spent the next hour or so flicking through television channels that she remembered her phone had buzzed earlier on. She reluctantly peeled herself off the sofa and retrieved it from where it had originally landed on her bedside table. Honestly, it was like Shanna had taught her nothing.

From just two messages, Chris had attempted some mild flirtation with her before asking her if she knew what in God’s Name Penhaligon’s was.

Sarah 8.19pm: Perfume I think. Pretty old school brand. Why?

Chris 8.23pm: Mom wants it for her birthday. Never heard of it before. Scott thought it might be some kind of scarf??

She googled the name to make sure. Last thing she wanted was to end up ruining Lisa’s birthday celebrations with a present she absolutely did not want. Her birthday was something she took with increasing seriousness as each year passed by and her children and grandchildren grew older in front of her eyes. There was always a party of sorts, a massive cake, perhaps a theme, and a “suggestion list” for possible gifts. Well, they say “suggestion” but rarely did anyone dare deviate from “the list”. Sarah hadn’t yet considered buying a present but if Chris was already looking, she would no doubt need to catch up.

Sarah 8.34pm: Yep, pretty certain it’s a perfume. Pretty pricey. Good shout.

Sarah started scanning through her phone as another couple of messages caught her eye, some she had accidentally missed from earlier in the day. One from Audrey. One from Greg that she was not expecting.

Greg 7.02pm: Great news! 29th is set up. All you need to do is say the word! Don’t know how long I can hold the spot open so let me know as soon as you can. Have a great evening x

It took her a moment to register what he was talking about.

Chris 8.37pm: Cool THX What are you wearing??

Sarah stared down at the phone. She felt light-headed. There was far too much going on for this time of the day. She wiped at her forehead with her sweater sleeve and took a deep breath.

Sarah 8.41pm: You wouldn’t be interested lol

Chris 8.42pm: try me..........

He had a surprising habit these days of cheering her up.

Sarah 8.46pm: Nah I look a mess. Get out while you can.

Her phone started ringing almost as soon as she’d pressed ‘send’, Chris’ name flashing on her screen. She contemplated not answering now that her mood had taken a turn but she knew he would work out something was wrong and immediately dive over.

“Hey,” she answered, trying for a jovial tone but coming up just south of delirious.

“Hey you,” he smiled through the phone, happy to hear her voice. “In all the years I have known you, Bernette, not once would I describe you as looking like a mess.”

She laughed down the line. She made the right decision.

“...you are far too cute to ever be a mess. Do you know that? Like, I can already picture you with your sweats on, your hair tied up, soft skin...” he trailed off with a low sigh that she was sure was filthier than he intended it to be. “Man, that really does something to me.”

“You really know how to charm a girl. Have you figured this Penhaligon’s thing out yet? Was I right?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

She laughed again. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m not great with flirting over the phone. You should know that by now.”

“Then do it with me in person.” he proposed as if it was the easiest solution in the world. As if she wasn’t going to be distracted with thoughts of work and studies enough to not focus on him entirely. And he didn’t deserve to be second best.

It would have been all too easy to allow him to come over. Forget about overthinking things again. There truly was no one better at making her feel good about herself these days. Like, honest, through-the-bone good about herself, whatever that entailed. Goosebumps raised on her skin at the thought.

“I’m pretty whacked to be honest and...”

“What’s going on? Are you feeling alright?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. Whatever he had been pottering about with in the background had stopped all of a sudden.

“Yes! Yeh, I’m fine. Just...I dunno, boring. Plus, it’s Friday night! You should be out with the guys or whatever. Shan said Scott is having issues with Zach again. Is he OK?”

He laughed at her second lame attempt to deflect. He knew something was going on and he knew she knew he wouldn’t give up easily.

“Is Shanna there?” he asked.

“No, she went out with some friends.”

“So why don’t you ask me to come over and I’ll make you feel better than fine?”

She was lucky she was sat down or that her legs were crossed underneath her as she lounged on the couch, her back against the arm rest. His tone was causing her to feel things she shouldn’t be focussing on. What must it feel like to always be confident of your effect on people?

“Do you wanna come over?” she asked, treading lightly, not entirely anxious should he decline.

“I’ll be there in twenty.” He ended the call almost as abruptly as he had dialled it.

She remained where she sat for a moment, Greg’s text message still lighting up her screen. She wasn’t expecting for things to suddenly be so easy for her and it was strange how opening herself up to more possibilities could cause her to feel so immobile.

She would need to move at some point and as a helpless and as confused as she now felt, she knew it would look far too obvious to Chris if she bid to make herself up. She also didn’t really have the energy to do so. Lord, Chris really should have taken the out when he had the chance.

“Have I just walked into a teenage girl’s bedroom?” Chris asked, taking a look around as he entered the apartment not long afterwards. He clearly found the scene amusing although Sarah couldn’t under stand why. It was partly Shanna’s home after all. He should be used to girly mess. “What’s going on?”

“Shan has a date. I was helping her to get ready.” Sarah replied, humourously holding up the hairdryer like a trophy before dumping it back in her bedroom. “Sort of, actually. She doesn’t quite know if it’s a date date or a friend date.”

“I was told those didn’t exist.” Chris smirked, reaching for a bottle of water from her fridge.

“Well, she’s dressed up for one. Looks gorgeous.”

“I think you look gorgeous.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Chris, you don’t need to make any more effort, OK? You’re already in the apartment.”

“I think it bears repeating is all.”

He swallowed half the bottle of water before fixing her with a semi-quizzical stare. He tried to figure out what was going on as he watched her potter around the kitchen table, swiping something away into a cupboard, phone grasped in her hand. “What’s going on? You sounded weird on the phone and now you look like it as well.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” she answered far too quickly and tried to shrug it off but his body language told her he wasn’t buying it. She wasn’t sure what was bothering her more in this moment; him knowing her too well, or that he knew he knew her too well.

“OK, alright, well, it’s Friday night and I’m happy just hanging out and doing whatever but you can also talk to me as well. I’m not a monster.”

“It was her turn to look back at him, unsure of her next move or indeed his. she wondered if he was very likely regretting his decision to meet her now when twenty minutes in the opposite direction would take him to one of his favourite downtown dive bars. Instead, he rested against the side of the kitchen doorway, arms folded, a softness still present in his facial expressions. He seemed hesitant of what to say and she didn’t like the slight awkward air surrounding them. She didn’t want to venture into work-territory either.

“Do you want me to go, Sarah?”

She looked back up at him after a short spell spent staring down at her feet. “No. I don’t want you to leave. I’m just...there’s something...” she paused to re-evaluate her words. “You know what, it’s find. It’s nothing major. Of course I’m glad you’re here now.”

He pushed himself off from the counter and moved towards her, accepting of the greeting smile now covering her face, the bottle of water still in his grip. “Cool. Shall I follow your lead then, or...?”

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” she suggested, more casually than he would have liked. She didn’t know what to say to him now that all of her brain space was taken up with possibilities and wanting to call Audrey with the news. Chris hadn’t factored in watching a film but she seemed like she wanted a little peace and quiet and he had pretty much dived into the apartment as soon as she gave him the green light, eager as he was to see her without threat of Shanna walking in at any point.

“Movie sounds good.” He bobbed his head in agreement, content in their surroundings for now.

*

At some point towards the end of Searching, Chris quietly excused himself to go to the bathroom. Realising something was about to happen and not wanting to have to explain it to him after he returned, Sarah put the film on pause and headed into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She had held him at an arm’s length for most of the night, the couch seeming longer somehow, but was now feeling a slight chill despite the thick sweater reaching midway down her thighs. He would no doubt have been cosy to snuggle up to but she was still pondering Greg’s message and couldn’t concentrate on much else.

Her demeanour hadn’t gone unnoticed by Chris. A couple of times he caught the glare from her phone screen illuminating her face from below and wondered who had gotten her attention this evening. He stopped himself from making an obvious joke and was disappointed that she hadn’t noticed him glance across at her several times during the movie. He wasn’t much interested in watching it. Telling the truth, he’d seen it via a DVD screener Matt had sent him months earlier but she’d mentioned she was looking forward to watching it and in all honesty, he had figured they would curl up together and he would have still gotten something out of it.

“Chris? Do you want a cup of tea?” she hollered from the kitchen doorway. No response for what seemed to be a long, long minute. She switched the kettle off and began pouring him one anyway. She could always drink two if he didn’t want it.

“Chris?” she shouted again.

She walked into the lounge to place the cups down and clocked the bathroom door ajar and seemingly empty. Maybe he left without telling her. In all fairness, she wouldn’t have been surprised or annoyed. She’d barely given him a moment of attention for the last two hours.

She wandered slowly down the hallway first passing Shanna’s bedroom before reaching her own and finding him stretched out across the bottom of her bed. She giggled and leaned on the side of the doorway. He looked rather comfortable. A little too comfortable. Maybe he wanted some company?

“What are you up to, Evans?”

He tilted his head up to find her standing there. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice I was gone.” He leaned up further and rested on one arm to fully take sight of her. His eyes appeared a little dopey, a thing that always seemed to give away his nefarious intentions. From the angle he was now lying in, the size of his bicep looked ridiculous. It could not have been an accidental move and she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t working for her.

“Are you bored? You can absolutely go if you have a better offer, I promise I won’t mind.” she offered by way of an apology but he stayed looking at her, not moving or responding to her offer. Being caught under his glare like this was unnerving to say the least. His hair looked a little messy from where he had been lying down yet he still made zero effort to move at all.

“I’m not bored.” He finally spoke, sincerity lacing his voice. “Are you? You seem distracted tonight.”

She didn’t know how to respond except to say he was right and to apologise again. She hadn’t figured out what to say to Greg yet so explaining her thought process to Chris wasn’t going to get her very far. It was times like this, when he was looking at her like that, that she wished she had the confidence to try and shut him up the old-fashioned way.

“Come here...” It was barely a whisper and she would have doubted he had spoken at all if it wasn’t for the hand he was now holding out towards her. He didn’t blink once.

She couldn’t refuse him and moved slowly to stand in the middle of his now-parted legs hanging off the end of the bed as he sat up. She watched as he closed his eyes when he felt her fingers smooth through his hair. There was something so calming about her touch, the deliberate graze of her nails sending little shocks down his spine. He wasn’t normally fussed by a woman playing with his hair even if occasionally he liked it when they pulled on it but something about her slow, tender touch was unlike anything he had felt before.

He moved his hands to the side of her thighs before pulling her legs down to either side of him. “I love looking at you from here.” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist making sure she couldn’t get away from him.

She moved in to kiss him, softly at first before she felt his tongue glide along her bottom lip, a wordless request for her to open up. He paused for a second, taking her in while she caught her breath before kissing her deeper than before. She pulled his t-shirt up from the hem and he reached up over his back to grab it and whip it off in record time. Not one of his proudest moments, it caught on his watch as he tried and failed to fling it to the side of them and he made a mental note to try that move again when he felt her chuckle against the side of his neck. He didn’t much mind being a dork in front of her. She knew he wasn’t as cool as he made himself out to be.

His hands found their way into her hair as he caressed the strands out of her face. He loved how silky it felt between his fingers and how faintly it smelled of coconut, her signature smell by now. Her hands gripped his wrists before slowly moving up his biceps and grasping at his shoulders while he pulled her down onto him to allow her to feel how hard he was becoming from her touch. He wanted to know she was only thinking about him. She felt him push up into her core and arousing her even more. His breaths were getting shorter while his hands moved down her sides in an attempt to hook into her leggings and drag them down and off her body. She moved a hand away from his shoulders to help him with his mission but a tapping sound soon broke her from her reverie.

“Wait.” she was still holding on to his arms to steady herself until things went quiet and his hands froze on her waist. Their breathing levelled out quickly and Chris threw her a confused look. “Do you hear something?”

“What?” He gasped. “No, nothing.” He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her back down to kiss him hard. His hands firmly gripped her ass until she was putting pressure back where he wanted it. She quickly forgot what she was thinking about while he moved her slowly along his growing length. He moved one hand up her side, dragging her sweater up with it so his fingers could finally feel her skin underneath. Her hands were pushing down on his chest a bit harder and in a moment that took her by total surprised he quickly flipped them over so she was lying underneath him, completely encased by his strong forearms.

Kissing her was so easy he couldn’t believe he hadn’t done it sooner. Her lips were soft, some of the softest her had ever touched. He figured she kissed like she wanted to be kissed, and he wanted to kiss her back like no boy had ever kissed her before. It was soft and hot and breathy and turning him on immensely. Neither was trying to win a battle but rather seeking and enjoying their closeness, the sharing of this one single sensation, outside world be damned.

The prospect of being uninterrupted was giving him all kinds of ideas. Her breathing was hot against his skin and he knew she was in the zone with him. They’d never particularly been slow and up until this point, he hadn’t much minded but he knew there was some part of her she was holding back and honestly, it was thrilling to him that he was determined to figure her out.

Pinning her underneath, one hand reached down and grazed the inside of her thigh. A little more pressure just over her clit caused her breath to hitch with a sudden squeak ever so slightly until they smiled back into their kiss, tongues massaging together. Honestly, he could carry on doing this for hours if he knew for sure there would definitely be another time they had this opportunity.

She opened her eyes to find him resting so close above her and evidently relishing the way she was lightly tickling the back of his neck with her fingers. Another languid kiss followed before he caught the side of her neck between his teeth and pushed himself against her core, her wetness increasingly apparent to him. She was growing accustomed to his need to tease her like this that she almost missed the scraping sound that had returned, only this time it was louder and sounded like it was coming from just down her hallway. She would have loved nothing more than to continue focussing on the hot breath now ghosting across her neck and shoulders but, panicking, she grudgingly pushed him off her.

“Fuck, what is that?”

Helpless and slightly dazed, all he could do was watch her get up from the bed to stand by the door. With an ear close to the gap, she listened out for another sound. Quieter than before, she swore she heard what sounded like shuffling followed by something being dropped on the ground.

Spying him about to protest, she shook her head. “Nope. Nope, that’s definitely something.” She proceeded to tiptoe out of her room and down the hall towards the kitchen, her bare feet treading ever so lightly and managing to dodge the one creaky floorboard. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find but felt a brief surge of confidence knowing the vision of Captain America might alarm whoever was attempting to break in to her home and presumably try to murder them both. He was 6 foot and built like a tank, he could absolutely save them both if push came to shove.

Of course, no one was there that she could immediately see. Maybe something had fallen off the wall instead, or perhaps had been knocked over by a strong breeze coming in via the open window in the lounge? Maybe she was hearing things after all or maybe it was a burglar but they got startled and ran away when they heard footsteps inside. Maybe it was just their neighbour moving around next door but it sounded a little too close for that. She resorted to the only thing she could think of in that moment and picked up a spatula just in case.

Chris was reluctantly putting his t-shirt back on when he followed quietly behind her, shaking his leg to relieve some of the tension in his boxers. Something banged again but this time she was sure it was coming from outside of her front door. He could now hear it as well but wasn’t entirely sure what she was hoping to accomplish with a plastic spatula in her hand.

She held her finger up to her lips to stop him from making any noise and peered through the peephole. She couldn’t see anything. Gingerly, she decided to open the door and jumped backwards when there, on the ground hunched up and leaning against the door frame, was a rathe intoxicated Shanna. Her bag had been emptied in a hurry like she’d been trying to locate her keys, and her coat was falling off her shoulders. She was half-asleep.

Chris snorted from somewhere close behind Sarah unable to contain himself, instantly familiar with the view in front of him. Sarah exhaled with some kind of relief that they were safe from a mass-murderer.

“I don’t believe it...” she spoken quietly.

“I do!” Chris could barely stop the laughter coming out now.

She and Chris moved to help her into the apartment, each grabbing her under one arm. Chris bared the majority of her weight while Sarah carried her bag and as a many contents as she could find. They managed to manoeuvre her into her bedroom where she promptly fell forward, head first, onto her bed,

“Fuckin’ waster,” he laughed heartily before Sarah punched his arm to stop him  from waking her. the room fell silent for a moment before the unmistakeable sound of Shan snoring took over. Chris closed the door behind them before following Sarah to the kitchen where she collected the remaining items that had fallen out of her bag. Picking up her phone, she checked for scratches.

“Well at least she didn’t lose it this time,” she held up the mobile to him but noticed he couldn’t stop grinning. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” he shook his head. “I just wish I’d taken a picture of her. Scott would have a heart attack. Always told her she couldn’t handle her drink!”

“i don’t know how you’d explain getting hold of a photo of her.”

“Oh yeh, good point.” he chuckled in reponse. They regarded each other for a moment, Chris clearly hopeful they could pick up from where they left off.

“I think you should go,” Sarah thought apologetically.

He paused before answering, expecting her to have been joking. “Why? She’s passed out on her bed. She’ll be asleep for hours. Do you have any idea how many times I have seen her like this?”

“Have you any idea how many times I have seen her like this? She’ll wake up in the middle of the night and get into bed with me and it’d be a lot easier to handle if I didn’t have to explain to her why her bother was also there.”

“Sarah, we could throw a rave and she wouldn’t wake up.”

He was making no effort to move, instead fixing her with a stare waiting for her to recognise how ridiculous she sounded. His hands pinched at his hips and he looked a foot taller than before

“Seriously, Chris, you’re just going to have to leave.”

He took a couple of steps towards her, bare feet padding along the hard, cold floor. “I haven’t see you all week.” He moaned, hands reaching out for her hoping the memory of where they had been would be enough to convince her he should stay.

“That’s not true. You saw me the other day.” It was a weak response. Even she knew that.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

She offered back nothing. She had no response. He was disappointed and equally as frustrated with his lack of a decent comeback. He should definitely stay. He should be rocking her world right this moment and whispering filthy things into her ear but instead, all he could do was stand there and shake his head in defeat. When he made eye contact with her again, she looked somehow smaller in some way and he found it hard to continue being frustrated with her. He understood what she was doing as much as he didn’t want to.

Resigned, he shuffled towards her and embraced her in a hug. She felt him semi-hard against her tummy, briefly doubting her choices. It stirred something exciting inside her to think she could make him feel that way and mentally chastised Shanna for cock-blocking her. She felt bad for kicking him out like this.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” she whispered.

He loosely pulled away from their hug and looked down at her. He playfully raised an eyebrow and looked down at her lips, still pink and swollen, before chastely planting a kiss on them.

“I am absolutely going to hold you to that.”

*

Shan finally made an appearance the following morning looking like death warmed up. She’d somehow managed to remove her clothes but had a pyjama top on backwards and her hair was sticking out in all directions. She had Sarah’s expert eyeliner and a false lash smudged down one cheek.

Sarah was eating breakfast and checking the news on her phone when she saw the creature from the black lagoon emerge into her kitchen. Stifling a laugh at the sorry sight standing before her, she felt a pang of sympathy seeing every step cause her pain. Shan just pouted at her before taking a seat at the kitchen table, resting her forehead in her hands while Sarah fixed her a glass of juice and some aspirin. She took it gratefully before groaning.

“Remind me never to do shots again.” she stressed. Sarah knew it wouldn’t last, not with that Boston blood coursing through her veins. “Was Chris here last night?”

Sarah froze, a sudden ring clouding her ears. “Erm, no, he wasn’t.” She turned to put her bowl in the sink and tried to hide any blushes. She didn’t know who felt more like shit in this exact moment.

“Oh I could have sworn I heard him is all.” Shan said, more to herself than to anyone else. “God, it’s good he wasn’t. He’d have a ball game seeing me in that state. How awful was I?”

“Not very,” Sarah lied again.

“How did I even get home?” she asked, trying to piece together the flashes of memories that kept racing through her mind.

“Um, I think your friends dropped you off in a taxi and you somehow managed to get up the stairs but then I guess you couldn’t find your keys...?” Shan managed a puzzled look. “You were slumped against the front door.” She refilled her glass with juice. “You’ve been in bed for, like, twelve hours.”

“Shit, we must have started early.”

“Well it happens to the best of us.” Sarah sat next to her and pushed a loose piece of hair out of her sweaty, red face. “Your hair looks OK! I don’t think there is anything stuck in it this time.”

Shanna laughed for the first time before her head panged in revenge.

“So? Did anything happen with Robbie?” Sarah asked, a cheeky grin crossing her face. By the look on Shanna’s face, the answer was a resounding “no” but it could very well have been the alcohol-induced hurricane currently running though her head.

“Well, it was a great night regardless. You’d love the bar. I think we ran into that guy, the porter from your hospital? Pat something? Did you know he plated in a band?”

“Um, no, not at all. Wow.” Sarah was trying to picture Patrick with an array of different instruments to see which suited him before remembering the awkward time he attempted to drum Phil Collins’ ‘In The Air Tonight’ with two scalpels. “Actually, he does seem the type. I’ll have to let Audrey know. She’ll love this.”

“He sounded pretty decent. It’s not just punk music or heavy rock. I think we should all go one night. Maybe as part of Mom’s birthday week.” Shanna perked up a little, proud of the idea that had materialised in her head against all odds. “It’s amazing what people can do when they put some effort in. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Where you might be now if you just took a chance.”

Following a night of heavy drinking, Sarah wasn’t expecting such an existential conversation at this point in the day. But it was a good point regardless. She grabbed her phone from the table and typed out a message to Greg.

“Yes. I’m in.”

*

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of November. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) That Summer Feeling | Explicit | 2093 words

"It was still a lazy summer evening, the sun was still floating in the sky and the balcony window was letting in a warm breeze. Harry thumbed at Louis’ hipbone, easing his lips off Louis’ skin just to mumble “Turn over, darling.” Louis cracked a small smile, turning over slowly and revealing the back half of his naked body. Harry’s tongue felt too big for his mouth. He swallowed as he took in the sight. He’d never get tired of this."

2) Like Sangria | Explicit | 4152 words

As he looked up to the ceiling he imagined what it would feel like to have this man all to himself, all night long. He wanted the man in his bed, spread out underneath him, his skin begging to be kissed by a little more than just the sun.

Harry let out a small chuckle at the thought because he hadn’t even wanted to come on this beach vacation in the first place - he had wanted to go sightseeing in New York City. However, Niall and Liam had outnumbered him and so two days ago they had all boarded a plane to Jamaica for a lads holiday celebrating Liam’s thirtieth birthday.

Digging his fingers into the man’s hips, Harry sent a silent prayer up to the heavens that he was currently not sightseeing in New York and was instead on his way to hooking up with the sexiest man he had ever encountered.

3) Bad Idea! | Explicit | 4247 words

“I’m gonna ruin you.” And words had never felt so real in his life. Harry was going to ruin him in every way and Louis knew it. He had memories scattered all throughout his brain of the pain and pleasure of being destroyed by Harry. The feeling of ecstasy he was currently experiencing outweighed how much it was going to hurt in the next morning when Harry vanished. He was melting under Harry’s touch and that was the only thing that mattered. He could feel Harry’s smooth and strong biceps under his hands as he arched his back against the car door, unsure if he was leaning into Harry’s lips or moving away from them.

4) You're Safe Like Spring Time | Mature | 4592 words

And it's bad enough that he's trapped in the library during a storm, but it's infinitely worse that he's stuck in the library during a storm with his teammate and sworn enemy - Harry Styles.

5) I'd Do Anything You Ask (I Wanna Hold You Bad) | Not Rated | 4664 words

Fifteen minutes in National Treasure, Harry pauses and movie and turns to Louis, nervously.

“Hey, Lou,” he says, with an edge of panic Louis has never heard before. “Can we talk?”

Of course. Nothing good ever fucking lasts, does it?

Louis cuts him off before he can finish. He can’t believe this is the same alpha who wears silk flowered shirts and tells interviewers that he thinks secondary gender shouldn’t matter. “You think just because I’m beta I don’t want to be loved and cherished?”

6) The Greatest | Explicit | 4703 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic, which is #2 on this list. 

It's been three years since Harry and Louis broke up, is it time for their second chance?

7) Sky'd Be Falling And I'd Hold You Tight | Mature | 6362 words

Note: This fic has an ambiguous ending.

If the world was ending you'd come over, right?

8) His Omega; His And Only His | Mature | 7393 words

Louis is an intern at Styles Incorporated, at least until he meets the CEO himself. Suddenly, he's working with his biggest crush and the most important man in the company. They instantly get along, but is it something more than friendly?

9) We Had A Threesome And Now Everything Is Shit | Not Rated | 10476 words

The one where Harry and Louis have been friends for years and Louis and his boyfriend are having bad sex, so Louis wants Harry to fix it.

10) Something Deep Inside | Mature | 17254 words

The five times Louis had to hold back his feelings, and the one time he didn't.

11) Tonight's the Night | Explicit | 21434 words

A Dexter AU where Harry is Dexter, Liam is Doakes, Niall is Masuka and Gemma is Deb.

12) Playing To Win | Explicit | 36732 words

The one where Louis really doesn’t want to like Harry, Harry is struggling to quell his growing fondness for Louis, but sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t fight fate.

13) Play Pretend, Find a Friend? | Explicit | 40296 words

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

14) You Put the Sun in Sunday | Mature | 42319 words

Louis is a love-brainwashed-teenager of hope drenched in dreams, clad in oversized clothes damaged with holes, and standing waist-high in novels. Harry is a selfish closeted football captain with a head too big for his heart, and a bad habit of not thinking before he opens his mouth. No one ever said love was easy, Louis learned the hard way.

15) Latibule | Mature | 54254 words

A Spirited Away AU of sorts where Louis just wants to heal and be left alone, only for all his plans to be destroyed by the hands of an infuriating British God.

16) Nothing Worsens, Nothing Grows | Mature | 102505 words

Or, another roadtrip au featuring Harry as the misunderstood hipster, Louis as the bitter psych major, Liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and Niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[ythmir-writes]

onee-sama, If you could, will you write about the midcin suitors and their swords, pretty please? :) I've been seeing plenty of amazing weapons on my dash and I thought of you hehe. Stay safe and stay healthy too!

a/n: imouto – you are asking me??? to write about swords?? Ahaha! Ahahahahaahahh –  yes

do i love weapons? yes. have i been heavily influenced by growing up and seeing amazing weapons in games and anime? absolutely. did i research this? somewhat. do i have absolutely any idea how to describe swords in a fantastical way? i tried. 

any discrepancies as to timeline, i ask you dearest reader to indulge. the term sword is a broad term used to refer to all bladed weapons which are longer than knives. To properly describe a sword, one must look at the historical epoch, the region, and the intended use. Its precise definition thus may appropriately vary.

With all that done, I think we can begin.

Midnight Cinderella Suitors and the Swords they chose (or think they did)

Alyn Crawford has carried many swords to battle, but he favors a double-edged pallasch, grooved and ridged on both faces. It is a practical thing, resilient and heavy in his hands, bare of any decorations save his own Captain’s crest – the snarling mouth of a long-eared dog – carved on the knuckle guard, and twin droplets of rubies at the base of the blade.

Alyn received the sword as a gift from the Wysterian King on the eve of his acceptance into the Royal Guard select. Alyn remembers there had been no moon that night. He does not remember if the King had ever looked so sorrowful.

He carries it with him wherever he goes, sheathed, polished, and sharp, as a knight’s weapon is expected to be, ready to be drawn and used at a moment’s notice. The gleam of the silver blade does not give away its age, how many battles it has triumphed through, how much blood has been cleaned from it.

Alyn has named his sword Excidium, and tries very hard not to roar alongside it during war.

Leo Crawford similarly favors the practical and resilient sword, and carries an estoc. Much like his twin’s, Leo’s sword is bare of any decoration, save for red flames engraved and crisscrossing on the dull grey blade, from base to tip, and the Crawford crest of a bird in flight drawn on the leather wrapped around the hilt.

But unlike his twin, Leo prefers to leave space for some ingenuity. At the center of the blade is a smooth and edgeless portion that allows him to grip the weapon with his other hand to deliver a more powerful blow, or a more poignant point, thrusting and piercing into armor with relative ease and the quiet simmering rage he is careful to never display.

Leo has taken care of this sword since he was twelve. A relic, he would describe it, if he was flustered; a nightmare, if he was about to be damned. He carries it with him when he takes long and winding walks, whenever he visits the Crawford estate, and on days he thinks it would rain.

Leo will never say he has named it Ignis, after the embers stretched out in the sky on the night he had dug it from their parents’ grave. Nor will he ever say that whenever he wields it, he could, ever so faintly, hear their voices whispering to him again.

Louis Howard has never been one to participate in any degree of violence but a Duke must carry a sword, if not for practical purposes then at least, something decorative. It took a long time for Louis to truly choose a sword – until it was too little, too late.

The walloon he carries with him was not chosen so much as the only thing back then nearest to him that he could grip with his one functioning hand, to try to defend the one person he loved the most. And from then on, he had turned to it over and over again.

It is a beautiful thing, with a polished iron guard that had punched holes in the shape of flowers, and a blade the color of the sky that glowed whenever Louis held it, and sang whenever it cut through air. Louis tries not to relish how the sword is like an extension of his arm now, that he has never been seen without it, and that he sometimes stares at it transfixed through the night.

Louis has named his sword Agonist. But Louis really need not struggle, need not resist. He only need carry it with him always – or risk losing a loved one again.

Giles Christophe’s affinity with swords had always been in his blood, in his name, in his soul – so when he had been unceremoniously disinherited by his family without having been bequeathed a weapon, Giles threw everything he had into making his own.

His schiavona is an intricate thing. Forged to be slightly lighter than most to suit his needs, and with a sharper double-edged blade and pointier tip to make up for what he does not have. The guard is a dizzying and complex black metal work in the shape of an unfurled wing, formed by thin strips bending and curving around the hilt and enclosing most of his hand. One might even notice the distinctly shaped cat’s-head pommel – if they were lucky enough to get a close look. But who can really say?

Giles rarely carries his sword with him as his duties as Chamberlain require only his wit as a weapon. Many people are thankful for this, because it never bode well for anyone when Giles appears wielding his stark black blade.

Giles has named his sword Vindicta. He longs for the day when he could finally carry it without shame. He has not had enough of its screaming.

Sid carries a claymore, a daunting thing, with a long, straight, and broad double-edged blade, serrated at the tip, that would have made anyone else look gangly while wielding it. The angled guard made the hilt take the shape of a cross, and it is encrusted with multiple sapphires on both ends which glinted like the All-Seeing Eyes of old.

But do not mention this as Sid has never been one for superstition. The sapphires were there as pawn pieces, he would maintain, not because he they had been the first thing that caught his attention when he won them in a card game, not because he had always been able to predict a blow coming from behind. Not because, and this he would adamantly insist, the Eyes help him see.

Sid never walks the streets without his sword and makes a point to brandish it whenever conducting his business. Sheathed, if he was feeling charitable; through a body part, if not. A dark blue weapon that seemed to coax even the most unwilling tongues to speak.

Sid has named his sword Attestation. It would be best to never ask him why he keeps telling you the sword knows when you lie.

Rayvis Harneit carries a sashka, the curved, narrow blade and guardless hilt an ideal weapon for the streets the Nightwatch patrols. It is a striking thing, the blade unnaturally white like bone, and was carved with fangs on both edges, making it look as if it were serrated. Rayvis is careful not to touch them – too many have bled even when hit with the blunt end.

The scabbard that holds the sword is equally striking, gray painted wood that ended in a wolf’s snarling mouth. It would have been less unnerving if not for the stubborn stains in the shape of a hand around it.

Rayvis carries his sword only during his patrols as it is the last thing he received from his parents before their untimely end. A memento precious and useful. He hopes it would not be the last thing he is holding when he meets his own death.

Rayvis has named his sword Venari. He can feel its hunger grow with every strike.

Byron Wagner’s sword is a katzbalger, with an owl distinctly etched on its pommel. It is a mysterious thing, with a double-edged blade so black it seemed to have been sculpted from ink. It would not have been noticeable in the dark if not for the dozens of tiny gemstones peppered into the blade that sparkled at the barest hint of moonlight. It is no exaggeration to say that whenever Byron took his blade, it looked as if he wielded the night in his hands.

He received the sword from his father the moment he learned to speak. A treasure, surely, and the only gift he had received from the mad king that did not outright give him grief.

Byron carries his sword in the same way as the Steiner kings have done before him: sheathed in an even darker scabbard carved with ancient, looping Steiner symbols for eternal rule; always with him even in his sleep; and held as close as possible to his person, as to replace his heart.

Byron has named his sword Kaalam, and hopes to make a world where he does not always have to turn to it to make people understand.

 Albert Burckhardt’s zweihänder is a heavy thing. It stands up to his chin, with a double-edged blade and a large diamond shaped onyx where the hilt began. The hilt, in turn, is cruciform, brown on black and brown, and had just enough space for Albert’s two hands – not that Albert needed both to lift the giant of a sword – but everyone else’s seem to be an ill-fit, their grip not quite right, always slipping, always grasping it wrong, or unable to carry its full weight.

The sword is a family treasure, passed down the Burckhardt line to the child who was to truly serve the Steiner King. Albert remembers his mother had confessed to him that it was not Albert accepting the sword. It was him who was had been accepted. No one else could hold it without cutting themselves on the blade.

Albert carries the sword at his back with a special double leather sheath, its straps running across Albert’s chest to secure the heavy sword behind him. Sometimes, it almost feels as if it were giving him a tender embrace.

Albert has named his sword Ardent, like all the wishes he does not have the courage to say.

 Nico Meier does not look as if he knows how to wield a sword, and this grossly inaccurate impression has always worked to his advantage. The rapier he keeps at his hip only added to his veneer as an attendant, looking more decorative than useful. His sword had a golden hilt and a scabbard with gold rings at the bottom, both intricately carved with falling petals. The hand guard, though only two strips of curved metal, was masterfully done and inlaid with small tourmalines.

The rest of the sword was deadly – Nico makes sure of it. He keeps the point finely polished to prick at the slightest touch, and the edges of the slender blade sharp. What looked like a strictly piercing weapon could inflict a thousand cuts. Like its master, it is a misleading thing, and the story of where he came to own it changes every time he tells it.

Nico carries his sword as he would any delicate china, lightly, playfully, and with a certain flair, able to switch from his right to his left and back again with relative ease. The duality is second nature and one must do their best to keep up, or perish.

Nico has named his sword Constante, and ironically is the only true thing he believes in in this world.

 Robert Branche would always prefer holding his paintbrushes over a weapon, even to save his own life, but he does own an old schweizersabel, its knuckle guard still intact despite the wars Robert had tried to bury it in.

The sword’s blade is long and curved without compromising its sharp edge. And though it is a slightly dented thing, its re-curved quilliones scratched in every place, it has never lost a speck of its elegance. The green hilt still had its sheen as if in its prime, the knuckle guard still glinted despite several decades of neglect, and at an angle the carved runes on the blade would even seemingly shine, as if holding in some mysterious power, as if proud that despite all of Robert’s efforts, the sword remains by his side. Robert can read them. He will never translate it out loud.

It is hard for Robert to shake off old habits – the sword will never let him – so he continues to carry it wherever he might go, even for running simple errands for his home or his art. His grip would be iron-tight, keeping it firmly in its scabbard. And though it had been lifetimes since he had used it last, he knows he can never be too careful with a sword untouched by time.

Robert has never named his sword. He is afraid of its memories.

[missytearex]

Hi! So I’ve decided to do monthly recs instead of weekly recs from now on, which mean this list is kinda long, so I put all the under 10k fics under the cut, but be sure to check them out too! And remember to leave kudos and comments when you do ❤

Tired Tired Sea by @mediawhorefics — [fic post]

larry | 113k | mature

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Not That Gone by @a-brighter-yellow --- [fic post]

larry | 61k | explicit

A few weeks after Louis and Harry, *ahem*, reconnect at their high school reunion, Harry temporarily moves back home. Louis isn't sure he has the emotional fortitude for a prolonged fling with the man of the dreams.

Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl — [fic post]

larry | 40k | explicit

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

I Just Want You to Stay by @sadaveniren --- [fic post]

larry | 34k | explicit

Louis and Harry have been roommates for four years, comfortable in their routine and their relationship. But all of that is about to change.

The Spaces Between Us by @justalittlelouislove — [fic post]

ziam | 33k | explicit

Liam is a ghost bound to nothing, feeling nothing. Until he finds Zayn and learns what it means to feel everything.

Give A Little Sing To The Singles by @londonfoginacup --- [fic post]

larry | 31k | teen and up

Harry Styles is an adult now, with a real adult job (and benefits! Whatever those are!). He spends his days at the copier. Copying things.

That being said, no one told Harry that being an adult came with a confusingly chaotic boss, a copier machine that would be hell-bent on ruining his life, and a coworker so good looking that Harry might just have to quit. After all, Christmas is coming and if their office doesn’t win the decorating contest, Louis has threatened to break several laws and kneecaps in retaliation.

Happy Christmas, here’s to many more.

The Goat Guy of Bethlehem by @lululawrence --- [fic post]

larry | 25k | not rated

every year, Harry and his family attend a church festival called Bethlehem. Harry's freshman year of high school Bethlehem expands, bringing in new vendors, including one that just might change everything for Harry. But first, he has to see if Anne and Robin are willing to part with him for the price of a few goats.

reach the stars by @disgruntledkittenface — [fic post]

horshaw | 19k | mature

Spring 2021. Four years after breaking up with Louis and moving to New York with his best friend Aimee, Nick runs into Niall and they start dating. When their relationship gets serious, Nick struggles to tell Niall how much he means to him.

Everything I Do by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 16k | explicit

the one where Harry finds a book of Elizabethan courtship rituals which sets in motion a series of events that can lead to only one conclusion.

High Heels, Red Dress by Anonymous --- [fic post]

larry | 15k | explicit

Louis answers the call when Pearl Harbor is attacked and there is no way around it. The United States is at war. Hiding his queer identity isn't so hard until he attracts the attention of a particular soldier. It's all lies and secrets until the war is finally over. Maybe then Louis can finally have his happy ending. It's up to fate to decide.

when half spent was the night by @juliusschmidt --- [fic post]

larry | 14k | mature

Hi Harry,

I’ve skimmed your website and am interested in hiring you to be my doula. I’m 7 ½ months pregnant and not keen to do this whole labor and birth thing alone. After looking around, I thought you might be a good fit because you mention enjoying unusual people with unusual birth requests. I can meet up any day this week.

Lou

You are the feeling of drugs, pulling the chain of my love by @peujeune — [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 10k | explicit

Louis gets bored with all the questions by the next week and tells everyone, in no uncertain terms, to fuck off, in a Facebook post he subsequently deletes the next day. Instead, he chooses to ignore all his friends.

And text Nick.

you’ve set my soul to dreaming by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed — [fic post]

larry | 9k | teen and up

Thirty year old Harry Styles goes to bed single on Christmas Eve, only to wake up on Christmas morning with a husband in his bed and a son down the hall.

The Truth I Can’t Explain (Smoke and Mirrors) by @fallinglikethis — [fic post]

larry | 9k | mature

Louis Tomlinson scans the horizon. It’s dark, but his werewolf eyes are equipped for that. He sees clearly in the inky black of the forest around them. He and every other wolf can see the moment the first blood mage crosses the boundary into their compound. The mages must think they’ve disabled the wards on the edges of the boundary but the wolves did that themselves when they found out the mages were coming. Louis’ pack has opened the door and put down the welcome mat. It’s up to the mages whether that mat becomes stained in blood.

on the same page by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 8k | mature

The one where Louis doesn’t know what the hell is going on.

You’re a Nightmare, I’m a Disaster by @lululawrence --- [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 7k | not rated

the one where Nick is a writer, Louis works in a bookshop, and things don’t exactly start off on the right foot, but they might just end on it.

The Gingerbread Show Off by @homosociallyyours --- [fic post]

larry | 6k | general audiences

The Gingerbread Show Off is the biggest event of the year at Harry's still sort of new to him job, and when he's given a spot to compete in it he's beyond excited. When he realizes that he's going to be paired up with Louis, the man who's been sneakily stealing his ideas since almost their first day of working together, he's understandably frustrated.

He still wants to win, though, and he's not going to let his office enemy bring him down.

The Circle of Life is Not a Circle, it’s a Stick by @lounonymouse --- [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 5k | teen and up

This is a story about Louis, his husband Nick, their daughter Ella, and her pet stick insect Mr Sticky McStick-Face.

B-Sides & C-Cuts by @bitter-leaf — [fic post]

shiall | 5k | teen and up

Niall’s stuck in Toronto the day before Christmas Eve. Shawn plans to make the most of it.

A Not So Silent Night by @lightwoodsmagic --- [fic post]

ziam | 5k | teen and up

Liam's had a crush on Zayn for months, every time they talk on the phone just making him grow fonder. He's just never met him in real life. When he finally gets to meet him, it turns out that he can't take his eyes off him dancing on the table at the bank's Christmas party. Especially when he starts taking off his sweater.

Summer Love by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 5k | teen and up

Summers at his lake house are Harry’s favorite time of the year. They’re treasured moments in time spent with Louis, his favorite person. The boy with the bluest eyes, the brightest smile and loudest laugh. Harry’s best friend for all of his summers. He’s gonna marry him someday. All that Louis needs to do is ask him - again.

my heart got caught on your sleeve by @foliealou  — [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 5k | general audiences

Louis Tomlinson decides to come out: a story in three acts.

it's getting bluer (and you can't keep faking) by @dinoflangellate --- [fic post]

nessie | 4k | explicit

For a second, Niall can’t move, pinned in place by Bressie’s casual words. Get you sorted could mean so many things, things he wants, and his brain almost explodes.

I Knew From The First Time by Anonymous --- [fic post]

larry | 4k | teen and up

Harry spent weeks picking out a gorgeous ring, and months planning every little detail of the perfect anniversary trip to propose to Louis. Except it doesn't go as planned and the ring disappears.

Harry Styles Plays with Kittens While Answering Questions by @sadaveniren — [fic post]

larry | 4k | teen and up

Louis runs a Youtube channel and Harry is his celebrity guest

to love you in word and deed by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 4k | general audiences

Louis loves everything about living with Harry. Except for Harry’s effusive proposals. Because the problem is, it’s getting harder and harder for Louis to keep reacting like they’re jokes.

Roll the Dice by @allwaswell16 — [fic post]

larry | 3k | explicit

Louis has been in love with Harry since they were eighteen. It isn’t until Harry’s thirtieth birthday in Las Vegas that Louis must finally decide to either tell Harry how he feels or let him marry someone else.

molecular by @dinoflangellate — [fic post]

zouis | 3k | teen and up

The team pushes into the lab, jostling each other through the sliding glass doors. Eenie, meenie, miney, mo. There they are, the four of them, present and accounted for. Louis shoves his way in last, looking sweaty and triumphant, and the hand around Zayn’s heart finally unclenches.

Unto You by @londonfoginacup — [fic post]

larry | 3k | teen and up

Louis is a lamplighter celebrating the saturnalia season in his own way.

Harry is heavily pregnant and new in the city.

The holiday of Christmas is yet to be created.

Brring Brring (that’s the land line) by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 3k | general audiences

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles have been dating for six months and two weeks.

It’s one in the morning, and the phone rings.

Snowdrops and Mice Pops by @ohharold --- [fic post]

larry | 3k | teen and up

The boys are stuck at Hogwarts over Christmas incapable of taking the Hogwarts Express back to London. A botched together friends Christmas would have to do.

step into christmas by leighbot

zarry | 2k | general audiences

the one where Zayn's written a Christmas book for children and Harry brings his son to a local reading.

Oh Valley Girl by @londonfoginacup — [fic post]

larry | 2k | general audiences

Out past the rolling hills and the churning sea sits a little fishing village, nestled in a valley where its residents are protected from the elements, as well as from the outside world as a whole.

Harry lives in this little fishing village, and she loves nothing more than feeling the earth beneath her and seeing the sky above her and sometimes dreaming of adventure.

Then one day a ship arrives.

Tricks and Treats by @homosociallyyours --- [fic post]

larry | 1k | general audiences

wherein Louis receives a package not intended for him, Harry has a brilliant idea, and the two of them meet properly at a Halloween party.

Gratuitous puns, bone® jokes, and creepy neighbors abound!

This Is Halloween by @hadtobelou --- [fic post]

larry | 1k | explicit

Louis' Halloween doesn't go as planned.

Scarily Incompatible by soidiallednine 

larry | 666 | general audiences

Harry seems perfect for Louis. Lottie certainly thinks so. But one really scary choice by Harry will doom them before they start.

something weird (but it do look good) by @uhohmorshedios — [fic post]

larry | 666 | teen and up

Harry’s upset that Louis didn’t appreciate his attempt to put a very-Harry twist on a Halloween meme and Louis tries his best to make it up to him.

take my hand (i won’t let go) by @tempolarriefix — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

in which zayn and liam are in love, niall doesn’t want to third wheel, louis hates scary things, and harry works in a haunted house.

aka the ficlet haunted house meet-cute that you never knew you needed.

The Devil Went Down to Georgia by @kingsofeverything — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

Louis just wants to fall in love for eternity.

the future reflected by @louandhazaf — [fic post]

larry | 666 | not rated

Louis didn’t take the stupid game seriously. Maybe he should’ve.

The Literal Gates of Hell by @evilovesyou — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

Louis has a passion for the supernatural and tends to drag his friends into his ghost and demon hunting adventures. His guardian angel isn’t too pleased when they set out to find one of the actual gates of hell.

You Win by @ziamhaze --- [fic post]

ziam | 666 | general audiences

Based off this AU: A werewolf finds a human who is strolling in the woods late at night, and just before the werewolf goes to attack the human, the human then starts to beat box and the werewolf is too intrigued to attack them.

I Still Follow by @smoke-flowers — [fic post]

zarry | 606 | general audiences

The sky is cloaked in black velvet, but he swears he sees stars.

[dumbhoe411]

I’m about to make a very ‘not anti not Larry but very houis’ rant get ready:

After harrys recent interview I’m so sick of seeing people talk about “staying strong” and not letting the het narrative get to them and that there was inevitably going to be some “straight songs” on harrys album blah blah blah. Why do you need to “stay strong”? Why do you all feel like you’re being victimised in this situation? Why do you feel that you are being targeted And by who? Who do you think is looking at what you’re saying and thinking “oh they’re on to us, we need to keep this relationship that’s been going on for almost a decade a secret in 2019 while Harry is out and proud and they’re both adults with their own voices. Ah these larries, too smart for us” no one! Literally no one. Harry and Louis are grown adults, they’ve been in the industry for many years, they can handle themselves, they can say what they want it’s their choice. There is no reason at this point for them to be forcibly closeted. And if their is please inform me because I’m struggling to see it, I’m always open for a conversation about it.

oh now let’s move on to the BLATANT misogyny towards harrys ex gf and yes as much as it hurts some of your fragile minds they did infact date, for real. It’s not some conspiracy to fight against you big brained larries out there who “know the truth” it was a relationship with a human being that Harry obviously treasured enough to write most of his album about. Everyone attacking camille, saying she was a stunt and down right disrespecting her are hurting Harry under the assumption they are “helping” him. You are causing this man emotional pain with every hateful word you say about her. You are saying things based on an assumption you’ve made, that by the way doesn’t make sense these days, and hasn’t for a long time, you need to open your eyes and realise your fairytale is over and you are hurting people who you think you’re helping. You say you love harry and Louis so let them move on with their lives, let them be happy with the people in their lives. Do not base your love for them on who they date or the fact that you ship them together. If you really loved them you would support them no matter who they dated. He makes music and entertainment for us, he’s not a walking soap opera.

My position still stands that I think harry and Louis had some form of relationship at one point in time and have since gone their own ways and there has been nothing to say they are still close to this day, they had something special I understand that but not everything is sunshine and rainbows and not everything in their lives revolves around each other, some people make everything they do about their potential relationship and can you imagine how demeaning that could be? That no matter what you do or what you say you are shut down by people and told that is not the truth, he can’t say anything these days without people telling him he’s wrong about his OWN LIFE, you are basically defining his whole self around a potential partner, nothing is his, everything is related back to louis. Please treat Harry and Louis with kindness, treat the people in Harry and Louis’ life with kindness. Do not base your respect and support for them on who they date. It shouldn’t even be any of our business.

[letterboxd]

Ghosted Films: A Director’s Nightmare.

To mark a conversation with Peter Medak about his new documentary The Ghost of Peter Sellers, which details a particularly tumultuous early 1970s film shoot, Dominic Corry looks at how the inherently nightmarish pursuit that is filmmaking has informed other movies.

“Every frame you set up references yourself and your entire life, so bits and pieces indirectly of your life go into every movie.” —Peter Medak

On a certain level, filmmaking is an essentially traumatic experience. The extreme number of moving parts, umpteen tiers of variables—both creative and practical—and the cacophony of egos involved all amount to what in the best-case scenario could generously be considered organized chaos.

And for the most part, it all falls on the director’s shoulders. Although the long-prevailing auteur theory is regularly and healthily challenged these days, our default perception tends to be that whatever happens, good or bad, it’s the director’s fault. Some directors process their filmmaking nightmares by writing a review of the film on Letterboxd. But in the case of journeyman filmmaker Peter Medak (The Changeling, The Krays, Romeo Is Bleeding), he chose to process his filmmaking trauma by… making a film about it.

The Ghost of Peter Sellers revisits the making of the 1974 Peter Sellers-starring pirate comedy Ghost in the Noonday Sun, an infamous folly of a film that has long haunted Medak. It’s also one of those rare films on Letterboxd: at the time of writing it has just two reviews, and only 26 members in a community of two million have noted seeing it. Giving it one and a half stars, EWMasters writes: “Pretty awful. I mean talk about throwing it on the stoop and seeing if the cat’ll lick it up. There is one very good sequence where the crew goes to town on this big plate of fish and vegetables that’s really well done—but otherwise, this is really only worth the time of a Sellers completist”. (Perhaps the main character’s name—Dick Scratcher—should have sounded alarm bells.)

Medak is not the first filmmaker to spin non-fictional gold out of a director’s nightmare (in this case, his own). His movie follows in the footsteps of legendary documentaries such as Fax Bahr and George Hickenlooper’s 1991 film Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse, which revealed the full extent of the already infamous insanity that comprised the making of Francis Ford Coppola’s 1979 classic Apocalypse Now, and used extensive footage shot at the time by Coppola’s filmmaker wife Eleanor (filmmaker spouses are handy to have along for the ride, as Nicolas Winding Refn also knows). And there’s Keith Fulton and Louis Pepe’s 2002 work Lost in La Mancha, which detailed Terry Gilliam’s (ironically?) Sisyphean efforts to film an adaptation of The Man Who Killed Don Quixote.

In both instances, the films in question were (eventually) made—and released to some acclaim (one considerably more than the other)—but as The Ghost of Peter Sellers shows, the shooting of Ghost in the Noonday Sun was such an epic boondoggle that the unfinished film sat unreleased for years and was much later released to no acclaim whatsoever.

The uphill battle to make his never-released horror movie Northwestern made indie filmmaker Mark Borshadt an unlikely filmmaking hero thanks to the breakout success of Chris Smith’s 1999 documentary American Movie. Like with Ghost in the Noonday Sun, the efforts to make a film proved more interesting than the film being made.

Jennifer Jason Leigh and Kevin Bacon in ‘The Big Picture’ (1989).

There are several narrative films of note that have successfully captured the specific pandemonium of filmmaking. Richard Rush’s 1980 cult classic The Stunt Man follows a fugitive who stumbles his way into the titular job on a big chaotic Hollywood production (Peter O’Toole plays the Machiavellian director), while Christopher Guest’s under-appreciated 1989 comedy The Big Picture stars Kevin Bacon as a hot young director who is roughed up by the Hollywood machine. It’s a notable and often overlooked antecedent to The Player, and like the Robert Altman classic, is more about ‘the business’ overall than the specifics of filmmaking, although in both cases Hollywood proves itself analogically appropriate.

Playwright, writer and director David Mamet’s own filmmaking experiences obviously inform his 2000 comedy State and Main, in which a Hollywood production takes over and smothers a small town with its singular thinking. It’s not hard to imagine Mamet processing his own filmmaking trauma in State and Main, just as the Coen brothers famously did in Barton Fink, their ode to writer’s block supposedly inspired by the difficulty they had penning the screenplay for Miller’s Crossing.

Charlie Kaufman channeled his own creative struggles into the screenplay for the 2002 masterpiece Adaptation, then built on those themes with his wildly ambitious 2008 directorial debut Synecdoche, New York, whose more maddening aspects arguably capture the irrational nightmare that is filmmaking better than any film directly ‘about’ filmmaking.

With her 2018 documentary Shirkers, writer Sandi Tan gained some measure of closure regarding an indie film she had starred in and written in her home country of Singapore, in 1992. The documentary (which shares its name with the original movie) has her revisiting the footage from the never-released film, which was stolen (!) 25 years previously by its director—and Tan’s filmmaking mentor—George Cardona.

Back to Peter Medak. In The Ghost of Peter Sellers, which premiered at Telluride Film Festival in 2018 and has just had its virtual screening release, we learn that Hungarian-born Medak was a rising directing star in the early 1970s in London, hot off the Oscar-nominated Peter O’Toole film The Ruling Class. Unable to resist an offer to work with Peter Sellers, then comedy’s reigning superstar—mostly thanks to Blake Edwards’ Pink Panther films—Medak set about shooting a treasure-hunting pirate film on the island nation of Cyprus in the Mediterranean.

In addition to the usual production problems associated with shooting on boats, Medak had to contend with the titanically and infamously fickle Sellers, who quickly turned on him and attempted to get him fired. Sellers also antagonized the other actors, then, after failing to get the production shut down, brought in his friend and longtime creative collaborator Spike Milligan to try and salvage the film, but things kept going wrong, leaving Ghost in the Noonday Sun unfinished and Medak with the blame for the production’s troubles.

Director Peter Medak with Peter Sellers (as Dick Scratcher) and Spike Milligan (as Bill Bombay) on the set of ‘Ghost in the Noonday Sun’, finally released in 1984.

Although Medak’s career recovered, he has clearly been carrying around a lot of hurt associated with the experience, and it’s remarkable watching him work through that on screen by revisiting Cyprus, telling the story of the shoot, and talking to some of the people involved. Sellers (who died in 1980) looms large over the film, but it also has interesting content surrounding the great Spike Milligan, who died in 2002.

Why did you decide to revisit this experience with a documentary? Peter Medak: Because it’s been haunting me for all these years. Because it should’ve been a really very successful film and I was blamed for everything going wrong, when in fact it had nothing to do with me. It was due to Peter’s changing mind and state of mind, and all kinds of things had physically gone wrong on the film. It was always easiest to blame the director for everything and my career at the time was very high up after [The] Ruling Class and this should’ve been the icing on the cake and it wasn’t.

It really bothered me for many years afterwards, even though I went on working. I was asked to do it by the producer of the documentary and I originally said “It’s the last thing I want to do”, because it would mean I would have to go back to Cyprus where I shot the original movie and go on the water, and I never want anything to do with water anymore because a lot of the disasters on the film, production-wise, were all connected with shooting at sea, which is totally impossible to do. Then I thought: well, you know, I should just do it and try to explain what happened on the film. And because some of the explanations were funnier scenes than the original film. So that’s why I did it.

Peter Medak fishing for answers in ‘The Ghost of Peter Sellers’.

In the documentary, you talk about needing to free yourself from the experience by making this film. Do you feel like you achieved that? Well, I think I did because I had a wonderful time doing it. A very sad time at the same time because when you go back to places where you shot 45 years before, it creates a very strange kind of illusion inside your mind, your heart and everything of the time. And having been there then and then being there again, it’s a very strange kind of a supernatural feeling in a way. It felt like you have died and your ghost is actually revisiting all these things you know. I called it The Ghost of Peter Sellers because it sounds good and also because the original film was called Ghost in the Noonday Sun, and this ghostly feeling of mine of revisiting that island after all these years, it’s a very, very strange feeling and somehow the film captures that emotionally.

Do you feel like the large distance from the shoot was necessary to be able to revisit it? It’s not that I thought about it every day of my life, but I talked about it to all the people who I worked with in my following career. When I was doing Romeo Is Bleeding with Gary Oldman, my darling Gary said to me one day, “You know, we are crazy, what we should do is make a movie about your movie, but I don’t want to play Peter Sellers, I want to play you, with your Hungarian, broken-English accent.” We had a script written but we never did it. That was a good 25 years ago.

Peter Medak in front of a promotional poster for ‘Zorro, The Gay Blade’, his 1981 film starring George Hamilton and Lauren Hutton.

So you had considered doing a scripted version of it? Yeah, but I don’t know quite what we would’ve done. I said to Gary at the time: “I never want to go on a boat again”, and so I thought in my mind that the scenes would start each day [with] the characters getting off the pirate ship and they come ashore—that’s where the scenes would begin. I’m sure we would’ve done something quite wonderful, and it would’ve maybe explained the things the [documentary is] trying to explain because I guess that’s what has unconsciously driven me. Because [for the documentary], we didn’t write one word of it, I just completely did it out of instinct. Where I want to shoot, what I want to shoot, and how we should go from here to there. I loved it, so going back on to it was quite easy. It did show me actually what a wonderful medium it is, documentary, because you can do anything with it. It’s a much freer form than scripted movies. Which is rigid. And this is liquid.

Did you have any other documentaries about filmmaking in mind when you went into this? Not really. I knew Terry Gilliam’s Lost in La Mancha, because I love Terry and I love his films and we know each other and knew each other. Terry was very fortunate, because he had so much trouble before on Baron Munchausen, that he decided to have a documentary film crew filming the whole process, so he had the material available, which allowed him to make his film. I said to him after [a screening], “You were lucky because you didn’t make the movie. I had to suffer through 90-something days of shooting with Peter [Sellers].” But of course since then, Terry made the film, and he made something slightly different than what he was originally gonna do.

Peter Medak retraces his steps in ‘The Ghost of Peter Sellers’.

Did any of your subsequent films feel nearly as difficult? Most movies are very difficult to make, and always when you anticipate problems, they never seem to happen. When I did The Changeling, everybody said “George C. Scott is very, very difficult to work with” and he was an absolute angel with me and [it was] the easiest thing to do. It was a wonderful ghost story. I’m very proud of that film. It will live forever. All movies are like your kids, your own children, because you put so much emotion, so much of your soul. That’s what I’m saying to [Ghost in the Noonday Sun executive producer] John Heyman [in The Ghost of Peter Sellers]: the director’s viewpoint is completely different from the producer’s because every frame you set up references yourself and your entire life, so bits and pieces indirectly of your life go into every movie. Because of that it becomes an incredibly personal journey when you put your absolute soul on the line. When it gets criticized or not accepted or whatever, one takes it very personally because the whole thing came from a very personal experience, even though the subject may be nothing to do with you.

Peter Sellers on the set of ‘Ghost in the Noonday Sun’.

Even within the canon of famously difficult performers, Peter Sellers is notorious. How would you describe him to a modern audience? Well he was a genius, there’s no question about it. But he was a manic-depressive person. And it’s a generalization, but most of the great comics are manic-depressive. And he changes his mind all the time. One minute, he loves you, next minute, he hates you. One minute he loves the subject, next minute he doesn’t wanna do it, he wants to get out and all that. So it is very up and down. When you’re running film with a crew of 150 people, and boats on the sea, and weather’s changing and everything, you can’t have that, because you fall behind the schedule and things go wrong.

At one point very early on, all he wanted to do was get off the movie. And then he did everything he [could] to sabotage the film so the film would close down and he wouldn’t have to finish it. But it didn’t just happen on my film, it happened with all his biggest successes, including the Pink Panther movies. Because if you look into Blake Edwards, each one was an absolute nightmare for the director and for the film company, United Artists. And I was gonna include that in the documentary but it had nothing to do with the Ghost in the Noonday Sun so I didn’t. I actually shot some scenes with one of the executives from United Artists at that time who had to deal with the insanity of Peter and also Blake Edwards. I say ‘insanity’; I didn’t want to say it too much in the documentary because I love Peter, even today. And it’s wrong for me to accuse him of those things because it sounds like I’m excusing myself. Peter was crazy. There’s no other way one can describe it. Touched by God. And so was Spike Milligan. But Spike had the love of goodness. Peter had kind of a nasty streak on him when he turned on people.

There’s a moment in the documentary where you suggest that Spike Milligan is more influential than he gets credit for. Do you think he’s under-appreciated? Totally. Totally. Totally. Because his talent was absolutely, monumentally genius. I always say this, but Spike basically created Peter Sellers through [legendary BBC radio programme] The Goon Show. And he also gave him all those various characters and developed those voices for him. It’s all in The Goon Show. The Monty Pythons, they were inspired by The Goon Show and they made it into television. Not story wise, but style wise. That kind of zany, insane humor. Spike was a total genius. Not that Peter wasn’t, but they stood together, completely overwhelmingly wonderfully insane. But Spike was quite something. He was incredibly human, he was incredibly gentle. And incredibly kind. Peter was incredibly combative. And he had that most incredible ego.

But all our lives come from our backgrounds and what our past was and where we come from, and Peter had a very sad upbringing and a very sad life and he was tremendously influenced by his mother. When his mother passed away, he kept on talking to her for ten years. When he came to Cyprus to make the movie, he arrived with big blow-up [photos] of Liza Minnelli—who he’d just broken up with a week before—and his mum. And it sounds terrible when one says it, but psychologically, some of the answers are there. But at the same time, both Peter and Spike, I can’t tell you what a gift it was… I mean the reason I did the film is: who could give up the chance of actually working with Peter Sellers and Spike Milligan? It doesn’t matter what the fucking script is, you know? It was a wonderful thing and I would do it all over again tomorrow.

Related content

Our Showdown on films within films

‘The Ghost of Peter Sellers’ is screening in virtual theaters now. It will be available via video on demand services from June 23. A list of all the films mentioned in this article can be found here. Comments have been edited for clarity and length.

[jlf23tumble]

Agree so much with your post about the teams and fan engagement ! And love the way you articulated all of that. Although now I definitely am interested in knowing what your notes about the specificity of each team/artist cause I feel like they'd be fascinating to read. Hope you'll post them some day, and thank you for sharing your thoughts with us ! 😊

Awwww, that’s very kind! It’s definitely head canon city, I litcherally have ZERO clue what goes on behind the scenes (and I can’t stress this enough, none of us do), so this’ll look hilariously dated when we find out that blah woof was true all along, lmao (me @ myself, thinking of some random Grimshaw interviews from last fall, oh, bless). Let’s dig in!!

For those of you who just stumbled upon this post, it’s related to the one I made last night about how I think the management teams of all these men (mid-20s means = you’re a man, not a boy) are not, in fact, sabotaging them. They negotiate a lot of tricky interconnected arrangements that none of us are privy, to, plus they’re at least trying to achieve the goals their clients are going for. And they’re doing it—the trick is these goals are highly individual and not 100% sensical (at least given our own view from the afternoon, Arctic Monkeys ref, holllllllah!!!).

In addition, these goals constantly shift, as does the music industry itself—I drive my own self loony when I lurk on blogs that are seemingly broadcasting from 2012, confused by why xx’s team is so “terrible” because they aren’t throwing good money after bad to get on a radio playlist, or why they haven’t announced yy “properly,” as if they’re being paid to worry about this level of shit (which fires me up on about five levels, deep breaths in, deep breaths out). I’m much nosier about the signals we’re getting when we hear them talk in their beautifully media-trained way about their musical interests, when we get some of that sweet, sweet fan service with a Gallagher or a Capaldi, when we get that heads up about who’s attending what concert, stuff like that. These signals don’t necessarily indicate future collaborations, but they DO indicate what kind of image these guys want to have, the kind of music they want the public to associate them with.

Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself…their personalities and goals at the moment are all so vastly different, and I truly do love seeing how their teams are workin’ it accordingly. Again, please @ god, don’t @ me…opinions, massively unpopular opinions, dead ahead!

* Zayn. My read on Zayn is that he enjoys the creative process, loves writing and singing, digs collabing with people, but he doesn’t seem to give two shits about the biz side (and why should he? that’s called living the dream at this particular point in his career). His website recently added “tour,” which EYEBALL EYEBALL, but he doesn’t seem to be all that interested in putting himself back out on stage or into radio/print/etc. anytime soon, and again, why should he? His numbers are HUGE without pushing himself through the anxiety-provoking churn he endured for four years, so there’s no real drive for him to do any promo if he doesn’t want to (see: the netflix-like binge dump of Icarus Falls, which could be “sabotage,” or it could just be, “fineeeeeeee, here’s some stuff for you, enjoy”). What other artist gifts his fans with gorgeous covers of such a wide variety of songs that indicate he’s more interested in sharing them than selling them. Accordingly, his fan interactions seem fairly pure and not all that promo-y: he has a keen interest in fanart, he’s done some fan pop-ups/listening parties that are pretty low-key and *seemingly* fan-focused, and recently (with zero anything to really promote), he’s been posing for cute pics and chatting with randos on the streets of NYC. I recently read that his mgmt team is no longer with him, but that sort of folds into my feeling that he’s not pursuing anything biz-wise, hence no need to jump through those particular hoops (I think he’s also struggled with a lot of demons, so yeah, why add one more). Could he be adrift? Maybe, but the next guy is the posterman for lack of focus….

* Liam. Honestly, I worry about Liam most of all. His post-1D career seems very much adrift, and I like to joke that he’s giving me that tell-all about the D one sentence at a time, but goddamn, are people listening? The struggles with alcohol, the lack of focus on every level, the reliance on his dad’s career advice (which more clearly reflects his dad’s financial class, background, and history than it does Liam’s), and the overall confusion about look, sound, and direction also flow back directly into his team. I get the feeling that they aren’t sure what to do because LIAM isn’t sure what to do or what he wants, so they follow in his wake. He’s agreeable to a fault, so seeing him at a meet-and-greet at an HMV in Birmingham last week felt like a step back into 2010 for no real reason, just like hearing that he was more or less coerced into full nude photoshoots for an underwear ad (the decisions to say yes to both of those—who’s steering this ship? If it’s Liam, he needs to tell the team his overall goal, so they can plot a course he and his fans can follow; if it’s the team, ditto). Like Niall, Liam’s actually pretty good at the SM game: lots of selfies, snapchat filters, outfits, gym service, twitter interactions. But generally speaking, his promo is confusing, and that’s probably because there isn’t much *to* promote at this point, other than a mix of collabs, clothing endorsements, spon con, horse farms, and an album that’s always on the horizon. This might be tied to the general post-1D jolt they all went through, like a plane coming off autopilot and into the hands of someone who’s just learning how to fly it. Zayn debuted at number one, so his bump wasn’t as harsh, but the others are slowly, steadily finding their footing after taking some time to find themselves and their sound, releasing songs/albums, performing (or in Louis’s case, going through unspeakable tragedy). Liam’s still adrift…and somewhat admittedly, which is kind of telling in its own way. Just know that my nervousness on his behalf ratchets up every time he feels the urge to assure us all that he’s happy.

* Niall. Truly the one following the original 1D template, right down to working with most of the same people but with more of the overall control in his hands instead of a faceless management squad. Of any of them, he seems the most ambitious, the most scientific about the sound he’s after and how he’s gonna get there. His promo is a mix of new and traditional—radio shows, talk shows, podcasts, special events, twitter interactions with fans, twitter interactions with entertaining celebrities—and it’s all hustle hustle hustle, build build build, as if he were a new ingenue instead of coming up hard on solo album number two. He’s explicit in his goals, which is refreshing, but it means he walks a weird line with fans: on one hand, he’s done with their bullshit, get ready to get rekt if you start commenting on his boring food seasoning or home décor. But on the other hand, he fully recognizes how much he needs them, which is why we get so many peeks into his “normal” life (yet zero percent of his actual personal life). It’s also probably why the blatant tweets of the last two days seem so jarring to me (I might be alone on this one, but I’m not a fan of directives in general, and asking me to call radio stations on behalf of a rich white man to become even richer just rubs me the wrong way, same with asking me to stream stuff to get you to number one…you’ve been there, buddy, how about you calm down and build some character at number 51). And speaking of calming down, it does fascinate me that both Niall and Louis namecheck Taylor Swift as someone who gets the whole fandom push/pull thing right, so watching them try to reverse-engineer her secrets is fun. Louis nails it (that hotspot treasure hunt: chef’s kiss), but Niall’s heavy-handed easter egg dump in NTMY, she would never!! I think Niall’s team needs to watch “Calm Down” about five more times before they try that again.

* Louis. I think Louis honestly has an AMAZING team in place, and they’re all clearly on his side, which makes for a refreshing change. Like Niall, he has publicly praised Taylor Swift for how she engages with her fans, but I think he’s missing a key point: she doesn’t let her fans dictate strategy, and I HOPE that’s the case for Louis, too. His old team *was* shit, so yeah, encouraging people to do fan projects to get the word out was a good idea, but turning that spigot off to let a good (paid) team step in and take over has been, uh, challenging. He’s dealt with more than his fair share of personal tragedy, but every time he gets some momentum going, it feels like something bts pushes him back off track, and he tends to keep it private, which only makes his hardest-core fans scream “sabotage.” Rightly so, he’s focusing on his personal life, and rightly so, his team is giving him the space to do that, even when it costs cash money and throws a lot of shit seriously for a loop. It makes my heart soar to see the potential of what his team can do/is doing, how much space he’s being allowed to process what he needs to process. Weirdly, that’s an unpopular opinion, and a lot of people want to indulge in an angst wank fest where Louis’s the victim of a terrible team that won’t DO anything (nevermind the fact that he’s probably ASKED them not to do anything), so they undertake a tremendous amount of performative unpaid labor that ends up being counterproductive on just about every front. Even worse, most of them can’t seem to process the fact that losing your mum is a blow, losing your SISTER is a blow, juggling other siblings or close friends handling some serious demons of their own in the aftermath of all of *that* is a blow, let alone handling your own personal coping mechanisms, nope, they want Louis to release release release, perform perform perform, c’mon, what’s holding him back, he *said* he wanted to release an album this year, there’s “no reason” for a delay, gotta be his shitty team, free him. It drives me ‘round the bend because it’s the same talk from late last year, you know, when we later found out that at least one family member was losing a fight with drug addiction. Louis’s fan engagement/promo is therefore hella fraught: he has to balance LouisTM on twitter (Mr. Donny, he’s hard, mate), his werk IG posts, and his constant edging because nobody can remember or trust that he’s got this, that multiple things are in play. But he also knows his fanbase, knows that it’s resistant to any kind of change, so I hope he pushes through and stays true to what he wants to do. I was really encouraged with his last promo round because he seems to have narrowed in on a something solid, he’s got a plan, and it’s not, “hey mr dj, put my record on,” it’s getting his fans to trust that he and his team know what the fuck they’re doing, and spoiler alert, it ain’t radio, but go ahead and keep pissing off djs by sending angry tweets their way. (Related: why is it so bad to avoid the radio when all of us admit that radio music is garbage? Is it because it’s more about you than him? Much to think about.)

* Harry. My very favorite head canon is that Harry is Jeff’s nightmare client: what was perfection at first because the Azoffs are old-school promo all the way (no SM, baby, gimme that sweet, sweet paper), and that dovetailed nicely with post-1D Harry, but it quickly veered into mulish teeth pulling. Low profile can quickly spin into no profile, and that really doesn’t work too well when you’re trying to sell sell sell, even if your brand is Harry StylesTM. HS1 and Dunkirk in their own separate ways worked VERY hard to push past the still-persistent way the general public views Harry as boybander Harry Styles, or more accurately, former boybander Harry Styles who dated Taylor Swift (if you venture out and ask someone who’s not a fan), but what I love about Harry is that much like Zayn, he doesn’t seem to be too bothered by all that. Sure, he’s ambitious, he wants to challenge himself and do things, but he’s no Niall Horan. He’s put in his time! If he gets a number one, then cool, but he’s not gonna chase it. And this is where Harry’s team really reflects his goals and energy: sure, they want him to do some promo (that “Do” tweet, the entire bit about the fan in Australia and Harry Lambert’s follow, goddddd, I loved it, petty Harry, resigned Jeff), but they clearly aren’t forcing him. He drops a song that makes a HUGE splash, and the follow-up is…liking some tweets and going to a John Mayer concert (not a John Mayer fan, so that wouldn’t be my first choice, but I respond to the zero fucks given about the whole thing). The music industry has changed a LOT in just two years, so it’s kind of cool to see team Harry pivoting a bit, seeing more SM interaction, the kindness generator, etc., but that said, the team takes their cues from him, and he clearly doesn’t want to do a whole promo circuit beyond persons a, b, and c, and magazine R, F, and A. Does it make sense to have Rob Sheffield write a profile about Stevie Nicks-blessed shroom-eater Harry Styles when his new song sounds like the Zarry combo of my dreams? NOPE, but that’s okay, Harry wanted to talk to Rob, so that’s what happened. The new song is more streaming friendly, and thank CHRIST, a lot less crusty white dude stuck in the ‘70s, so I can only hope that the rest of the album is thus, but we shall see! We’ll also see if Harry’s fan engagement shifts any further into the active zone…so far, it’s been “I’m gonna follow some larries, like these fun generator posts, check out a few dads” and staged photo ops with the same familiar faces, but I think he’s dealing with his own major bts issues as well (album delayed at least twice; that entire stalking situation). I still contend the album’s coming in the next few weeks, so it’ll be interesting to see if/how any additional promo rolls out in this new world order post-gryles landscape, how many interviews he’ll do, but I like that there’s a strategy that seems less stodgy…kudos to the new SM team, at least!!

Oh man, that got really long! Hope you enjoyed, and YES, opinions opinions opinions, and they’ll be stupid in about three weeks’ time, thanks for coming to my already dated buzzfeed article

[karasunonolibero]

2019 writing self-evaluation

so i did this over on my main last year, and since i had what i felt was a productive year, i wanted to do it here! i’ve included all works, from every fandom i wrote for, so there’s definitely a variety but also a clear distinction of when i stopped writing 1d and started writing for haikyuu, heh. anyway, i’m proud of all the work i’ve done this year, so here’s to 2020!

ALL FICS MUST HAVE POSTED ON AO3 IN 2019

1. Number of stories (including drabbles) posted to AO3: 50

2. Word count posted for the year: 147,038

3. List of works published this year (in order of posting):

two loves have i (5 january)

it’s only your imagination again (25 january)

the pain’s only temporary (8 february)

blow a kiss, fire a gun (9 may)

waiting to be found (14 may)

a swim with a shark (6 june)

sweet and lowdown (19 june)

one more time as if we planned it (24 june)

always be my thunder (23 july)

will your mouth read this truth (30 july)

tumblr drabbles & prompts (last updated 3 august)

I’m on my way up (’cos you make me bliss out) (completed 4 august) (collab with Rider_Of_Spades on ao3)

even mountains crumble into the sea (7 august)

we’re on each other’s team (14 august)

dangerous, tainted, flawed (20 august)

life can do terrible things (25 august)

the night before life goes on (1 september)

when the letter says a soldier’s coming home (17 september)

when the air ran out (19 september)

something missing tonight (21 september)

built castles from sand (26 september)

underneath the stars we came alive (8 october)

sweet talk and sugar (10 october)

got my name on this treasure (11 october)

just a little taste, babe (14 october)

iwaoi horror week drabbles (completed 1 november)

don’t let the tide come (31 october)

daisuga week drabbles (completed 24 november)

how (not) to put on a condom (26 november)

taste the tension, now i’m begging (2 december)

kiss the boy (7 december)

till tonight do us part (11 december)

i wish i could be there now (13 december)

on our way to twenty-seven (15 december)

for the dream far away (24 december)

a collar full of chemistry (25 december)

fall down and commune with me (28 december)

a little of love’s electricity (31 december)

the city is at war (last updated 31 december)

4. Fandoms I wrote for: (stats pulled from the ao3 filter feature on my works)

haikyuu!! (41)

one direction (9)

the legend of zelda: breath of the wild (3)

all time low (1)

crystalline (1)

5. Pairings: (i didn’t count side or past pairings)

iwaizumi hajime/oikawa tooru (14)

sawamura daichi/sugawara koushi (13)

oikawa tooru/sugawara koushi (4)

azumane asahi/nishinoya yuu (3)

kuroo tetsurou/sawamura daichi (2)

kuroo tetsurou/yaku morisuke (1)

akaashi keiji/oikawa tooru (1)

sawamura daichi/sugawara koushi/terushima yuuji (1)

sawamura daichi/terushima yuuji (1)

sugawara koushi/terushima yuuji (1)

link/revali (1)

mipha/zelda (1)

louis tomlinson/harry styles (5)

louis tomlinson/zayn malik (1)

alex gaskarth/louis tomlinson (1)

liam payne/louis tomlinson (1)

zack spade/pixel fade (1)

6. Story with the most:

Kudos: two loves have i (275)

Bookmarks: two loves have i (34)

Comments: two loves have i (25)

9. Work I’m most proud of (and why):

on our way to twenty-seven! i was digging into some identity and sexuality issues that i myself have dealt with in the past and writing about it was the first time i’d really dove into some of that stuff, so i really enjoyed writing it and i think it’s some of my best.

i’m also really proud of i’m taking back the crown and i wish i could say why. i just really like the way it came out. writing oikawa as this desperate dethroned prince trying to reclaim his kingdom at any cost only to be beaten at his own game in his own home was just...ugh. it was so much fun to write.

10. Work I’m least proud of (and why):

one more time as if we planned it, definitely. i just felt super rushed writing it. it was for the one direction rarepair fest, which was super fun, but i had Just finished a longer fic a few days before this one was due and i initially tried to drop out because i thought i wouldn’t be able to finish it, but i did, but i still feel like it’s rushed and just not as good as it could have been if i’d planned better and given it some more time.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

im gonna do what i did last year and post more than one, because 1. i can’t decide and 2. i quite honestly am pretty proud of a lot of what i wrote this year

from when the letter says a soldier’s coming home —

Tooru’s squealing somewhere behind them, and Hajime’s gruffly trying to get out the door, and he’ll have to call the school and make up something about being sick so he can spend the day catching up with Daichi, but it can wait. It can all wait. Because Koushi’s waited long enough. It’s about time the rest of the world waits for him.

from strawberries on a summer evening —

Suga hums against him, licking strawberry seeds from between Daichi’s teeth, like he’s just as intoxicated by Daichi as Daichi is with him. Daichi could live here, in this feeling, ignoring everything except how Suga sounds (like bliss personified), smells (like sunblock and sweat), tastes (like sugar and salt). He’s the hottest part of the summer, high noon in mid-August, just this side of too much to handle, but addicting in how it leaves you at its mercy.

from on our way to twenty-seven —

“Sorry, what was your name again?”

Tetsurou opens his mouth to say his American name, but he catches Daichi and Suga looking at him, and he swallows it down. “My name is Tetsurou. Tetsurou Kuroo.”

“I thought you wanted people to call you Tyler,” Timothy says.

Tetsurou shoots him a glare and says it again, feeling his confidence start to grow. “My name is Tetsurou Kuroo. Tetsu is fine, too, but I don’t go by Tyler anymore.”

12. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

any time tasteofsummersnow left me a comment, it made my heart go doki doki!! her comments are so in depth and so very sweet and it’s so much fun to see her real-time reactions to my writing. i go back and reread them like once a week they’re so nice ;_;

13. A time when writing was really, really hard:

the spring/early summer in general was tough, like from march to june. i didn’t post anything between february and may, and i feel like i was struggling a lot creatively around like may/june of this year. i think it’s because a lot of stuff in the 1d fandom was really turning me off at the time and that’s when the burnout fully hit.

14. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

definitely sugawara in the city is at war. i was writing that first chapter and initially i just wanted to see him step up when daichi wasn’t around but he very quickly turned sadistic and ruthless and scarily sharp, which is just so much fun to write him as. and his relationship with daichi is just—ugh. love that violence-fueled romance. they would kill a hundred men for each other and be turned on once they were finished.

honestly, all of the city is at war has surprised me. the idea came to me in a dream on a long bus ride, of all the clan leaders having a meeting and being attacked, and i woke up and banged it out in 36 hours. i meant it to be a oneshot but as i wrote it, i realized i loved the au so much there was no way i could leave it at that. so now it’s got a whole plot and all that. fun!

15. How did you grow as a writer this year:

last year i said i felt i grew writing angst and exploring different emotional themes, and i think i built on that even more this year. i did a bunch of shorter pieces this year and i feel a lot of them really explored emotions and characters more than plot, and that’s been so much fun. and then as well, like i said before, i’ve branched out into the crime-action genre with the yakuza au. and! iwaoi horror week was my first real attempt at spooky/creepy/horror-type writing, and, it was a fun challenge for sure.

i also said i wanted to just keep writing and be spontaneous and i definitely did that this year. i posted so many fics not caring how long it had been since the last one—sometimes it was less a day. numbers stopped mattering to me. i posted just because i wanted to put my writing out there and share it with the world, knowing there had to be someone out there who’d like it.

16. How do you hope to grow next year:

i feel like 2019 was a year of trying a lot of new things, so in 2020 i’m hoping to explore some different ships and tropes. the sheer number of characters and ships in haikyuu means there’s a ship for just about every trope and au out there, and i want to play around with some dynamics i’ve never written before.

17. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

as always, a shoutout to the loggies, who have been a fantastic source of inspiration and support all year even after i retired from 1d fic. and i would also like to thank the people i met via various hq discord servers—you know who you are!! thank you for the sprints, the encouragement, the inspiration, and the friendship. as someone brand new to the fandom, the support and sense of community has been nothing short of amazing, and you guys are part of the reason i felt so comfortable in this fandom so quickly.

18. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

actually, yeah. even mountains crumble into the sea was written the night before i broke up with my ex. i wrote it as an exercise to get all my feelings out, lay them all on the table where i could see them and pick through them, and then imagine the best possible way the scenario could go.

19. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

honestly—just write! write what you’re happy with. write even if you don’t post it. write, because everything you do is practice that’ll help you improve.

and don’t be afraid to write out of order or write more than one project at a time. i know that won’t work for everyone, but for me, if i didn’t immediately write what was on my mind, i probably wouldn’t have posted half of what i did this year.

20. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

hey remember last year when i said i was gonna finish the breath of the wild au?? L M A O i’m really gonna finish it next year i swear!!

i have a fic posting in the spring for the nsfw big bang which i’m ALSO very excited about! i’m lucky to be working with such a talented artist and the end result is gonna be amazing and i’m so so excited.

i also want to keep going with the city is at war, because that plot was a pleasant surprise. and there’s an ever-growing list of fic ideas and aus that i’m so excited to write—some of them were originally for larry aus but i’ve repurposed them for haikyuu pairings and that’s helped breathe new life into some old ideas.

21. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

anyone who sees this and wants to do it! just tag me, i wanna read your answers!

[mydarlingvioletine]

‘Just a Puppy Crush’ - Chapter Six

Ship(s): Violet/Clementine Media: The Walking Dead (Season 4)

          Clementine’s name snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up at Brody, who was smiling down at the journal in her hands. Violet had moved back to her original position, sitting stiffly with her eyes on the trophy case. 

So, she blacked out for the entirety of Violet’s origin story. She was having a bone thrown at her to learn more about the mysteriously cool blonde to the left of her, but she dropped the ball.

         Real good detective work, Clementine.

She knew bits and pieces. That her dad was a drunk and that she barely spent time with her mom because she worked a bunch of jobs. To pay for her husband’s very expensive habit. That Violet had a “someone” in her past, named Minerva. Louis brought her up once, but dropped it because Violet was visibly upset. That was the last she’d heard about her.

       “‘A girl and her brother arrived here the other day. Her father got a teaching opportunity here, so they moved across the country. Mr. Everett’s cool. He’s a good teacher. His wife is really nice, too. I went in for pre-session and met her. She brought in coffee and an omelette for Mr. Everett, and told me that she had a daughter around my age. Clementine. She warned me she was a little grizzly, but had a big heart and could use a friend right now.’“

“Carley..” Clem scoffed to herself, pinching the top of her nose with a mix of frustration and adoration. “Did she pay you to talk to me too?”

        Brody giggled, shaking her head and flipping the page. 

“‘I met Clementine today. She’s a sweetheart. A little bit standoff-ish, but really kind. We passed notes during math class, and she doodled flowers on the bottom of my classwork.’“ Brody held out the journal, finger on a scrap of paper with a couple detailed flowers, taped to the page. “‘She’s talented, really really talented. She’s even better at realistic stuff.’“

      Clementine’s smile dropped in an instant, noticeable to Violet and Louis. Brody, oblivious, kept reading, skipping a couple pages ahead.

“‘I didn’t mean to do it. I don’t have heavy footsteps, I just walk quietly on instinct.’” Brody’s eyes flickered towards Clementine, who nodded, biting down on her thumb. “’I saw her drawing in a sketchbook, and leaned over her shoulder to look at it. It was so, so realistic. It didn’t even take a full glance for me to realize who it was of. I told her it was really good, but she was embarrassed, and got mad at me for sneaking up on her. She made me promise not to te-’”

         “-Um, have you guys seen Captain Marvel? Carley works at the police station and she was able to snag an illegal version of it.” Clementine interrupted loudly, quickly rising to her feet. Brody took the hint, and clasped the notebook shut, upset with herself that she’d almost broken her promise.

“No, yeah, let’s watch it.” Brody stammered, shoving her diary back into her bag so it couldn’t hurt anyone else. Louis and Violet exchanged a worried look, as Clementine rounded the corner and darted up the stairs.

        She couldn’t find the movie. Carley had lost it or dropped it somewhere, and she had to go back to them empty-handed. Stalling, she took solace in James’ presence, standing beside him to help with the dishes.

They had a routine that dated back to when Clementine first got here. Clementine washed, James dried. AJ usually spot-checked, but he’d gone to sleep hours ago. They both worked in silence, both wracked with nerves and concern. 

       “James?” Clem broke the silence, soaping up the inside of a glass. 

“You okay?” James asked, setting the bowl down to look at his younger sister, her face struck with something sad that anybody other than her family would have missed. 

      Clementine cleared her throat, scrubbing the frosting off of the cake-covered plate. “I’m good. I just.. good.”

James nodded, not wanting to push her past her point of comfort. He took the plate from her hands, rinsing it off as her focus set on the window, vines from the garden flowing down the side of her house like her own curly hair.

     “You have no idea how good it is to see you,” Clementine breathed out, swiftly wrapping her arms around her brother, burying her face into his college sweatshirt.

James returned the hug, resting his chin on his little sister’s head. “Back atcha, kid. I really missed you.” Clementine stepped away from her brother, her eyebrows shooting up as she heard Louis singing off-key from downstairs. “I’ll be here all break, you know. C’mon, don’t miss out on your own birthday.”

        Clementine pursed her lips, and let out a hearty sigh. “Hey, James?”

“What’s up, Clem?”

“You don’t have to answer. It’s kinda dumb, but... I’m just curious. Were you sure Charlie liked you when you asked him out?” Clementine whispered, resting her elbows on the kitchen counter.

         A soft smile crept over James’ lips, and he softly shook his head. He turned towards her, and held out his pinky. “Promise you won’t tell Mom.”

Clementine nodded, wrapping her pinky finger around his. They shook on it, and James pressed his back against the kitchen counter, hands gripping the railing as he started recollecting.

     “I didn’t know, Clem. All I knew was that I was tired of carrying it on my back and just wanted it out there. And with the help of my good friend, Mr. Alcohol, I was able to say ‘fuck it’ and just go for it.” James smirked, sternness crossing his face after a couple seconds. “Don’t take this as advice. I also took a whole bite out of a pumpkin that night.”

Clem giggled, her stress lifting into nothingness as she laughed. “You’re telling me, James Abbott, honor student, class president, star of the lacrosse team and salutatorian, drunkenly asked a guy out and took a bite of a pumpkin, all in one night. Illegally, might I add.”

     James playfully shushed her, slinging his arm around the little sister he cared so much for. “Why are you asking, exactly?”

Clementine’s shoulders stiffened, and her cheeks turned pink in an instant. “No reason in particular.”

             “It’s Violet, isn’t it?”

Clementine grabbed a spoon out of the sink, and pointed it threateningly towards him. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

       James looked down at the adorable, rosy-cheeked kid who he’d made an internal oath to do anything for, the day he met her. The day of Lee and Carley’s wedding, she dropped her hat into the lake, and he jumped in without thinking, completely ruining his suit. 

He didn’t care though; Clementine’s relief and smile as she put the sopping wet hat back on her head was reward enough.

       “Honestly, Clem, it’s almost impossible to know for sure. Even if you were 100% sure your feelings were reciprocated, it’s human to be nervous and unsure. But..” He paused, pursing his lips together in thought. “You won’t know if you don’t act on your feelings. I think you’ll be okay, Clementine.”

Clem huffed as James pulled her into a side-hug, crossing her arms tightly across herself. “Thanks, weirdo.”

         “No problem, weirdo.” James paused for a second, then grabbed at his backpack, strewing the contents across the kitchen table. He gave a short “aha!” before cupping his treasured picture of him and Charlie in his hand, leaning it towards Clementine so she could see. “The risk is worth it.”

With a solemn nod, Clem started back down the stairs, opening the door to the lounge room. Louis was on top of the coffee table, holding a hairbrush as if it were a microphone, screaming the lyrics to American Boy by Estelle. Clem internally thanked whatever was out there that the soundproofing was good in this room.

        He wasn’t alone though. Brody was laying across the couch, holding her phone high as the music played. Her eyes landed on Violet, who took Louis’ hand and allowed herself to be twirled around the table. She was singing too, though it was almost impossible to hear over Louis.

Louis’ eyes landed on Clementine, and he stopped in his tracks. Violet didn’t get the memo though, swaying happily, a water bottle in her hand being her choice of a make-shift microphone.

“Like the way he’s speakin’, his confidence is peakin’ Don’t like his baggy jeans but I might like what’s undernea- SHIT”

Violet clasped her hands over her mouth, wide eyes on Clementine, who she’d just noticed was standing in the doorway. Brody quickly struggled to pause the music, and Louis stepped down from the coffee table. 

    “Uh, so you mentioned karaoke earlier but you left, and Brody has a karaoke app on her phone so we just... uh,” Violet stammered, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

Clementine rolled her eyes, grabbing the hairbrush from Louis’ hands. “You were really singing an Estelle song without me? In my house? On my birthday?”

      “Uh... happy birthday?” Louis squeaked, ducking just in time to dodge a pillow Clem flung at him. She cleared her throat, and climbed onto the coffee table with Violet’s help.

“Brody, if you will,” Clem stretched her arms over her head. Brody happily hit the play button again, and Clementine jumped in right in time for the chorus.

          “Take me on a trip, I’d like to go someday”

Clementine reached down for Violet’s hand, and twirled her as she sang. Taken aback, Violet’s movements were stiff and cautious. It didn’t take long before she melted into the rhythm, singing along, her voice hardly over a whisper.

          “Take me to New York, I’d love to see LA”

Clementine hopped down from the table, the floor shaking beneath her impact. Her grip on Violet’s wrist, she slung her free arm across Violet’s shoulder, dropping the hairbrush to the floor.

           “I really want to come kick it with you”

Violet took in a deep breath, cautiously placing her hand on Clementine’s shoulder. An encouraging smile from Clem was all she needed to calm her nerves, her volume almost matching Clementine’s. 

           “You’ll be my American boy”

They fit well together. Violet’s slight rasp and gravelly voice complimented Clem’s smooth, silvery tone in an intimate way. Violet’s breath tickled her nose, reminding Clementine of how close they were. Inches away from Violet’s face, she pondered how easy it would be to just press their lips together. She knew she couldn’t, though.

               “La, la la, la la eya~”

Fuck it. Clem’s hands found their way to the small of Violet’s back, and she took a prominent step forward, dipping the flustered blonde as far as she could, given her prosthetic.

        Brody and Louis were clapping and hollering at the performance. Clementine pulled Violet back to her feet, and dropped her hands back to her sides. With a lopsided smile, she turned towards her friends and bowed. Oblivious to the breathless Violet behind her, Clem grabbed her water bottle off the table and took a huge gulp.

Once the song petered out, Violet set foot back in reality. Eyes wide and lips parted, she let go of the breath she’d been holding in when Clementine placed her hands on her back. Holy shit.

     The confidence that struck Clementine disappeared as quickly as it entered her life, leaving her stunned. The spark that hit her when she took Violet’s hand was still sizzling through her nerves, her stomach warm and full of butterflies.

She turned on her heel to say something, anything to Violet, but she had disappeared.