#sydney writers festival

[sigurism]

Richard E. Grant, Sydney Writers Festival

[musicalyikes]

omg omg omg

took my bereal with gabrielle zevin

[goldencuffs]

pls....come back...

i’m here!! just avoiding you all bc i still haven’t started the next chapter…… 😭😭

[actualhumancryptid]

The Melbourne Writers Festival program went live tonight and I’m not even sure there’ll be stuff I’m interested in. And odds are it won’t be one of the big ticket ones so there’s no rush. But predictably their website has immediately crashed and the fact of being denied has made me someone furiously determined to at least see the damn program. Though I know being one of the many sending requests to their poor server is doing nothing to help my efforts.

[fixated-dark-king]

Sooo, I had the amazing experience of attending a panel C.S. Pacat was part of during the Sydney Writers’ Festival on 25th May 2024. The panel was called “Creating a Monster” (with two other YA authors).

And finally a week later (because adult-ing is hard), I had time to actually go through my notes and write up some of the fascccccinating things Pacat had to say about: monsterous heroes, and villains, and enemies-to-lovers deliciousness, and queer identity!

I didn’t want to forget some of the interesting things said in this panel and thought others might be interested in hearing about them too? Please indulge the splurge. :)

(Please note that all bold headers are just my thematic summary of each section for people to jump to, not the actual question asked.)

WHAT APPEALS ABOUT ‘THE MONSTROUS’ TO PACAT:

From a technical writing standpoint, the ‘Monstrous’ is appealing because a villain will often do an act and the hero reacts to that. It gives unconscious clues to the reader that when the villain turns up, something exciting is going to happen. In that sense, villainous characters have a special sort of ever-present attention given to them (possibly because human nature is to always keep one eye on the dangerous thing that could harm you).

On a personal level: A) When queer characters are awesome but also ‘Monstrous’, Pacat says it can feel really ‘electric’ and empowering to reclaim/allow yourself to embrace the monster role that you’ve been told you fit into by society. Like in Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles where queer people are allowed to be beautiful/glittering & powerful & witty & have existential conversations about good and evil while fitting under the Monstrous label. Like heck yeh, that’s cool. And B) as an author, you can feel a ‘minority pressure’ to have characters be Good all the time and be the perfect ambassador for that minority, but sometimes you just want to be a vampire and take over the world, you know?

THE EXISTENCE OF ‘PROTAGONIST-CENTRED MORALITY’ WITHIN THE DARK RISE BOOKS:

When pondering whether it is hard as a writer to convince readers that a Monstrous protagonist is a likeable character, Pacat pointed out that the funny thing is that the question ‘How am I going to make readers like this monster?’ never really ends up being an issue because people actually really like monsters! The thing you might not expect is that the struggle is actually: ‘How am I going to make these readers who are barracking for the protagonist feel that this ‘monster’ is actually monstrous?’

Pacat explained that when a protagonist is also a monster, it brings into play something called ‘Protagonist-Centric Morality’ -- where you bond with that protagonist and want the best for them etc, so much that it can obscure when the protagonist is actually doing something bad. Pacat mentioned that he has found the Protag-Centric Morality fairly striking in the case of the Dark Rise books because people have said to him things like: ‘The Dark King Did Nothing Wrong Ever In His Whole Life’ and Pacat questioned whether the moral centre of the story was landing somewhere different than intended. He was curious whether the other authors had experienced that with their ‘monstrous’ protagonists too.

IF A HERO IS ALSO MONSTROUS, HOW ON EARTH DO YOU DIFFERENTIATE THAT FROM THE VILLIAN? When pondering over the distinction between a Monstrous Hero and a Villain, Pacat shared some thoughts from his lived experience. He said the times when he has felt most threatened by the ‘Monstrous’ is when that person isn’t clearly identifiable to others around you; where there isn’t a shared understanding between everyone that ‘yes, that person is a monster’. Extending from that, the Truly Monstrous is when that person has some kind of control over you and control over the narrative as well; if the monster is the one telling the story but casting you as the monster. Essentially gaslighting via ‘narrative control’.

ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE:

This is Pacat’s absolute favourite romantic trope. And he elaborated that he doesn’t mean that in the sense of ‘these characters sort of don’t like each other’, but rather to the point where two characters really hate each other and for a very good reason. He likes when a path between two characters feels IMPOSSIBLE to overcome.

This trope was first explored in the Captive Prince trilogy and Pacat loved it so much he just had to use it again for the Dark Rise trilogy. The planning behind it for CaPri was brainstorming: ‘What is the worst thing I could think to use?’ (Answer: Killing a character’s brother, which lands the bereaved character into a set of hellish circumstances.) But that meant when Pacat decided to use it again for DR, he had to extend that to: ‘Now I need to think of something EVEN WORSE THAN THAT (CaPri)’ in order to separate the main characters. So Pacat had to spend ages thinking about what could be the absolute worst thing to use this time -- and he hopes that he came up with something that is ‘truly, truly way worse.’ Which essentially had everyone, including the moderator, laughing loudly in fear. XD

WILL KEMPEN: FOUND FAMILY & THE LONELINESS OF INAUTHENTICITY:

Pacat spent a lot of time trying to develop a really meaningful platonic friendship between Will and Violet. It meant a lot to see a friendship like that reflected on page for Pacat because some of the most important friendships of his life were across gender lines. The reception to Will and Violet has been so pleasantly surprising, so Pacat supposed he wasn’t the only one with a hunger for that kind of friendship within the romantasy genre.

Pacat also reflected on Will’s complex relationship with his Found Family -- that having the support of a Found Family can be so essential, but in Will’s case that lifeline is undermined by secrecy, turning that Found Family into a different kind of loneliness. Because the thing is: if something so immense happens to you that you feel you can’t talk about, or you feel some way about yourself but think you can’t share that with others, it means you can’t really be your authentic self. But if you’re not being you’re authentic self, who are your friends friends with? They can’t be friends with the true You; they can only be friends with a facade/with a performance. So as long as Will is scared to show his true self and remains hiding himself away from even his friends, he will be alone. It’s a hard step to take. (Note from me: so heavvvvy but poignant.)

NOT DR-RELATED, BUT PACAT’S FAV MONSTERS FROM POPULAR FICTION: Pacat was so excited to namedrop his favourite monsters from popular fiction, he volunteered to go first LOL. The answers: 'The Brat Prince' Lestat (Lestat has been on his mind a lot recently because the AMC TV portrayal captures Lestat so well & has completely rejuvenated Pacat’s 12 year-old love of vampires. Total mood); serial killers such as in the Ripley series; and simply: American Psycho.

Great panel, right? Now it’s Europe’s turn!

[tackletofset]

“I didn’t see myself represented and it’s interesting that many monsters, like vampires, don’t have reflections. When nothing in culture is reflecting you, it can make you feel monstrous. So, there’s a revenge aspect to my writing. I was constantly being asked to identify with heroes who are not like me, so I wanted to force the reader to identify with a villain who is like me.”

—C.S. Pacat, Sydney Writers Festival 2022

[weemssapphic]

Hi how are you? I hope well! so i really like your writing actually ur my fav writer here on tumblr ;). So i had this idea for a fanfic by Miranda Hilmarson x reader. It was about Miranda being a traffic cop sometimes too and then she ends up giving the reader a ticket in one day and the reader gets really mad and even fights with Miranda, and then they end up meeting again, but what Miranda didn't know was that the reader would be her new boss!! From there I leave it to you, it can even be an enemies to lovers, you know.

I just had this silly idea, maybe you'll like it and I'd be super happy if you wrote it.💗

another thing! English is not my language, I'm literally writing this through Google translator so if something seems strange to you, you already know ☠️

A/N: thank you sooo much, that is so kind of you! I really liked this request and enjoyed writing it - it's my first time writing for Miranda so I really hope it's okay <3 just gonna post this and go hide now ahhhh

not your fault

Words: ~7.4k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: slight enemies to lovers, mentions of Adrian Butler (ugh), reader has a temper - poor Miranda is on the receiving end, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol, employee-boss relationship, angry Miranda, but also adorable puppy Miranda, nsfw (smut) - vaginal fingering, cunnilingus

“Are you fucking kidding me…” You groaned under your breath as you snatched up the little piece of paper stuck between your windshield wipers - a parking ticket. You were already running late thanks to your cat having puked all over your carpet that morning, and thanks to the barista at the coffee shop who’d taken ages with your latte - and now you were going to be even later.

You whipped your head around, looking for the officer who’d given you the ticket. A tall, blonde woman in a police uniform was strolling down the line of parked cars, handing out tickets to each one. The officer turned as you stomped over, eyes widening as you advanced on her until you were standing right in front of her. You had to crane your neck up to look at her - in any other situation, you might have found this insanely arousing, but right now you were far too pissed.

“Care to explain this?” You waved the paper in her face - she went slightly cross-eyed as her eyes followed your movements. 

“Uh, that’s a parking ticket, ma’am.” The officer swallowed visibly, taking a step back.

“I park here every goddamn day,” you hissed.

“I’m sorry…” She seemed a bit dazed and distracted for a moment as she regarded you, her eyes darting between your own, before straightening her posture and clearing her throat. “There’s, uh, a festival downtown this weekend, they’ve closed most of the parking zones until it’s over. There’s a sign at the start of the road.” She nodded her head over to a single sign set up at the next intersection, one that you had clearly missed in your rush.

You were seething, a billion arguments ready on your tongue, but the clock was ticking - and in the end, she was right, no matter how pissed you were.

“You know what, fucking forget it. I’m already running late! Thanks for nothing.” You stomped back to your car and crumpled up the parking ticket, tossing it on the passenger seat and groaning in frustration - the officer stood rooted to the spot, watching as you drove away.

~~~

Not wanting to get a speeding ticket in addition to your parking ticket, you took your time driving to the police station for your first day on the job. You’d just moved to Sydney to replace Adrian Butler as he left his position to “focus on his marriage” - you hadn’t even started yet and had already heard rumors of his extramarital affair with a constable. Men are pigs, you thought as you strode into the station and took the elevator up to the third floor, half an hour later than you’d planned.

The room was buzzing when you walked in but as soon as you cleared your throat and made your presence known, everyone went silent.

“I’ll spare you all the usual ‘first day’ speech - you should know who I am. I’m sure we’ll all get to know each other well over the course of the coming weeks, but for now I already have my hands full with everything that Detective Sergeant Butler so generously left for me.”

Your eyes landed on an empty desk near the center of the room. “Who usually sits there? Are they out sick?”

Some of the men began to snicker - one in particular answered your question. “Oh, that’s Hilmarson.” He smirked and took a sip from his coffee mug as he leaned against the side of the copy machine.

You raised an eyebrow. “And? Where is Constable Hilmarson?”

The elevator doors opened behind you and you turned around, eyes widening as you were confronted with the tall, blonde officer who’d given you a ticket. Her own shocked expression mirrored yours.

“That’d be her.” The man - Constable Brown, you’d later come to learn - chuckled, his smirk widening.

“Constable.” You glared pointedly at Constable Hilmarson. “My office, now.”

She frowned and followed you to the small office at the side of the room. You closed the door behind her and took a seat behind your new desk, gesturing for the officer to sit. She scrambled rather clumsily towards the chair and sat down, looking like a child about to be reprimanded.

“Constable Hilmarson, is it? Miranda?” You regarded her carefully. Her cheeks were rosy with embarrassment, her eyes wide as saucers. And, God, were they blue. They were mesmerizing. Miranda bobbed her head up and down in answer to your question, a bit of her pale blonde hair falling in her eye. She raised a hand to her head, dragging long fingers through her hair to brush it back - you had to physically shake your head to stop yourself from getting distracted by her movements.

“I like to be prepared, Constable. So I was having a look at your file the other day, you see, and I was under the impression that you are currently on a homicide case with Detective Griffin. Or am I mistaken?”

“Yes - I mean, no, you’re not mistaken.” Miranda shook her head furiously. 

“Then pray tell, Constable - why on earth did you spend your morning handing out fucking parking tickets?” You couldn’t keep the venom out of your voice as you questioned Miranda - something about her was pissing you off (or maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t even been able to drink your coffee yet), and you were having trouble reigning in your emotions.

Miranda’s face was bright red and her hands shook slightly. “I lost a bet,” she mumbled, unable to meet your gaze.

“Louder.”

She cleared her throat, her eyes locking with yours. “I lost a bet. I had to take over Constable Brown’s duties for the morning.”

You sighed, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’m not here to play games. Do you understand that?” Your voice was sickly sweet, bordering on condescension - it was not lost on Miranda, who was starting to look like she wanted to argue.

Evidently, she thought better of it at the last second, for she simply nodded as she glowered at you.

“You’re here to do your job, not Constable Brown’s job. And I expect you to do your job well. So, seeing as you’ve not only made me late, wasted your entire morning, and wasted even more of my time with this silly conversation, I would appreciate it if you could get to work. Now.”

Miranda stood abruptly, sending a stack of papers flying from your desk as she stormed from the room. You rubbed your temples, wincing at the force with which she closed the door behind her - you were already starting to develop a headache, and it wasn’t even 10 am.

~~~

As the morning went on, you found yourself growing more and more agitated, unable to focus on anything. You realized as your stomach growled for the fourth (or was it the fifth?) time that, in your rush, you’d skipped breakfast. 

The second the clock hit 12 for your lunch break, you were on your feet. You’d have to work through much of your break to catch up, but you could afford to take a few minutes to grab a coffee and a granola bar from the vending machines in the lobby.

Passing by Miranda’s desk, you noticed that her chair was empty - the sight made your blood boil. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down - it was her lunch break, too, and she had every right to leave her desk during that time. Her messy, cluttered desk… You clenched your fists and headed for the elevator.

That wasn’t the only time her desk was empty, however. Throughout the afternoon, you would look up from your paperwork (you found that Adrian had been terrible at properly filing paperwork, making your job that much harder) every so often - and more times than not, the constable was nowhere in sight. With a frustrated sigh, you stood and strode over to open the window - you desperately needed the fresh air if you were going to make it home without strangling someone.

The sight of Miranda smoking a cigarette in the alley next to the station, just under your window, had you clenching your jaw, nostrils flaring. You couldn’t help yourself - you immediately headed towards the elevator and took rapid steps out of the station, rounding the corner and advancing on the constable, whose back was turned to you.

“Hilmarson!” you barked - Miranda flinched as she turned to face you.

“What did I do now? Am I not allowed to smoke or something?” She sounded agitated, and that made you even angrier.

“This is your fourth smoke break in the past two hours alone. If your habits are going to get in the way of your job, then I suggest you-”

“You know, you’re really stressing me out!” Miranda yelled back, gesticulating wildly as she spoke. “I’ll do my damned job, okay? You’re just really not making it easy.”

You laughed - it was hollow and sarcastic - and took a step closer to Miranda. Your face was inches away from hers now - this close, your eyes were drawn to her lips, soft and plush, trembling slightly with anger. A little scar adorned her top lip and your gaze lingered there for a moment, arousal pooling in your core - until Miranda brought the cigarette back to her mouth to take a drag.

Torn from your trance, you plucked it from her grip and dropped it to the ground, crushing it with your boot.

“Talk to me like that again and I’m sending you home for the rest of the day. Now get back upstairs.”

Miranda pushed roughly past you, her shoulder bumping into yours as she headed back into the station. You leaned against the wall and let out a loud groan, your eyes fluttering shut. Why was Miranda determined to make your day as difficult as humanly possible? 

With a heavy sigh, you opened your eyes and pushed off the wall, following the constable back inside.

~~~

Your second day on the job started out significantly better than your first. You managed to eat breakfast, get coffee, and make it to work on time, all without getting a parking ticket or arguing with a certain constable. Miranda had been at her desk when you’d walked past it and, mercifully, hadn’t said a word to you - though you could feel her eyes on you as you disappeared into your office.

When you left your office for your lunch break, you found the main office empty - you figured most of your officers were taking their lunch break as well. You strode over to the little kitchen, reaching for the handle when the door swung open in your face - your body colliding with a much taller one. You heard a gasp above you and looked up to see Miranda standing directly in front of you, eyes wide, mouth hanging open in shock.

It was then that you realized your shirt suddenly felt a bit wet - your eyes fell to the half-empty bowl in Miranda’s hand, then to your torso, which was covered in milk and little pieces of cereal.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” you growled, pushing past Miranda and ignoring the apologies that poured profusely from her mouth. You grabbed a fistful of paper towels and dabbed at your shirt, quickly realizing that it was no use - you’d have to get changed.

You spun around when you felt a hand on your arm, glaring up at Miranda who looked down at you apprehensively. At your furious expression, she pulled her hand away as if burned. “Do you need help?”

Sighing, you closed your eyes and attempted to reign in your temper. “No,” you grit out. “It’s fine, you’ve done enough. I just have to go home to get changed, I guess.”

“Well if you don’t have a shirt with you then you can borrow mine?”

Your eyes flew open, meeting Miranda’s soft gaze before flickering down to her torso. “W-what?”

“I mean, I have an extra shirt in my locker.” Miranda gestured back towards the elevator with her thumb, a faint smirk playing upon her lips - the fact that you had just basically ogled her chest was not lost on her, apparently.

You could feel your cheeks turn red and you looked down at your own shirt, clinging to your chest - it had turned slightly see-through, and you could see your bra through the thin fabric. The drive home would cost you your entire lunch break, and Miranda did owe you for this… You sighed heavily.

“Yeah, sure.”

Miranda smiled, her eyes lighting up and crinkling at the outer corners - it was the first time you’d seen her properly smile, and it was beautiful. She crossed the kitchen and peered out the door into the office.

“The coast is clear,” she said with a grin, gesturing for you to follow her. You rolled your eyes and the two of you headed down to the empty locker rooms.

“I always bring something to change into after work,” Miranda supplied as she busied herself with opening her locker. “It might be a bit big on you but at least nobody will be able to see your bra.”

You started to unbutton your shirt, feeling Miranda’s eyes on you as you did so. It was hard to focus with the constable in such close proximity - you struggled with the buttons as you found yourself growing more and more flustered.

“Here, let me help,” she murmured, and before you could stop her, her hands were on the buttons of your shirt. Her fingers brushed against the swell of your chest, just above the fabric of your bra, and you shivered visibly, your mouth going dry.

“T-thanks but I got it,” you mumbled, gently pushing Miranda’s hand away. “Could you turn around?”

Miranda furrowed her brow, her face flushing. “Oh, sorry!” She placed a baby blue t-shirt on the bench next to you, then turned and studied the bare wall with great interest as you got changed.

“You can turn around again,” you said, clearing your throat. Miranda did as she was told, her eyes getting stuck on your chest for a moment before meeting your gaze. Your anger had all but dissipated, replaced with an unfamiliar and somewhat unsettling tension as you looked at Miranda, your stomach flipping.

“Uh, thanks,” you whispered. “For the shirt.”

Miranda’s lips curled up into a smile. “Yeah, of course. You know, I’m really excited to have another woman on the force. Last night I was looking into your case in Auckland before you got promoted - I talked to Robin about it, even she was impressed.”

For once, you were left speechless. For all the crap you’d given Miranda since meeting her, she seemed so genuine and excited to be speaking with you in that moment - you could feel yourself get flustered again, and all you could do was nod your head as she spoke.

“Oh, my lunch break is over so I have to go meet Robin but, uh, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

You nodded absentmindedly, stuck on the way Miranda’s hands moved as she spoke and the brightness of her eyes. She shot you one last grin before turning and taking long strides out of the locker rooms, leaving you to stand there in a daze, holding your wet shirt.

~~~

It was finally Friday and you’d been invited to go to the bar for drinks after work to celebrate the end of your first week - you stood in the lobby of the station, waiting for Robin to join your group before heading out. 

Since the little cereal incident, you were trying to actively avoid thinking about, looking at, or talking to Miranda, but she was making that damned near impossible. When you’d returned her shirt back to her, freshly washed, she made sure to allow her fingers to brush against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. She wasn’t at her desk much throughout the day, off investigating leads with Robin, and for that you were grateful - but every time you saw her desk, littered with empty takeout containers, paperwork, coffee mugs, you felt a twinge of annoyance, followed by a sinking feeling of guilt that you couldn’t quite place. As a result, you spent much more time than you wanted sitting at your desk, dissecting your feelings for the blonde but coming up empty.

The door to the station opened and a civilian walked in with a small goldendoodle on a leash. A gasp sounded to your right and you couldn’t help yourself - your eyes followed the sound just in time to see Miranda crouch down and extend her arms towards the dog, which jumped excitedly up at her, trying to lick her face. 

You couldn’t tell who was more excited about the interaction - Miranda, or the dog. The blonde was letting out little squeals of delight, cooing at the dog as she buried her fingers in its fur.

“Pull yourself together, Constable,” you grumbled, annoyed mostly at yourself for the way your stomach was reacting to the sight of Miranda cuddling the dog. It was childish and unprofessional… You most definitely did not think it was cute. Not even a little bit, no… You blushed and looked away as Miranda stood up, missing the look of disappointment in her puppy-like eyes.

After that, though, you found you couldn’t even enjoy getting drinks with your colleagues - your mind was going in circles and you were unable to shake off this weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You sat at a booth near the back of the bar, nursing a beer as everyone around you joked around and slowly got drunk. 

You couldn’t keep your gaze from wandering towards Miranda, who was seated at the opposite end of the table. She sipped her beer, smiling occasionally at something one of the others said - your eyes, once again, got stuck on her smile. The upward quirk of her lips, the subtle scrunch of her nose, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. When she caught you staring, however, she quickly looked away, the smile sliding right off her face.

It affected you more than you would care to let on - as soon as her smile was gone, you wished for it back - desperately. And it was stupid, really - she’d somehow managed to sour your mood every single day this week, and yet your body was reacting to her in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time. With a sigh, you drained your beer and ordered a second one - this was going to be a long night.

~~~

If you’d thought your second week on the job would start better than the first, well - you’d quickly find out just how wrong you were.

Monday morning started like any other - you strode into the office with your coffee to-go cup, passing by Miranda’s empty desk. There was a half-empty bowl of cereal at the edge, stacks of manila folders and paperwork strewn over the surface, an empty, crumpled paper bag from the local bakery that had been tossed unceremoniously onto the computer keyboard. It stirred up a twinge of annoyance in you, but you tried your best to shake off the feeling.

Looking up and seeing the blonde standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen, you quickly averted your gaze and hurried to your office.

Your mind began to wander as you answered your emails and a flash of blonde through the window in your office caught your eye. Miranda walked back to her seat, a mug in her hand. She reached her desk and distractedly looked up, talking enthusiastically with Robin as she placed the mug down on a teetering pile of papers.

You looked on in horror as the pile slowly toppled over, spilling coffee all over her desk - you couldn’t bear to watch anymore, dropping your head into your hands in frustration as you heard Miranda let out a gasp.

Not my problem, you thought, trying to take steadying breaths. It wasn’t your desk that she’d spilled her coffee on, after all. 

You stood and made your way to your office door, calling out for Robin.

“Yeah?”

“Did you manage to get a copy of the autopsy results already? I really need them.”

Robin shifted slightly from foot to foot, a frown growing on her face - you really didn’t like the look of that.

“Actually, I sent Miranda to get them this morning.”

Raising an eyebrow, you looked past Robin at her colleague, who was frantically wiping up the spilled coffee from her desk. “Hilmarson, can I get those autopsy results?”

Miranda looked up, freezing in her movements. Her eyes darted between you and her desk and her cheeks were rapidly turning pink. “They, uh… Got a bit soggy.” She strode over to you with a piece of paper in her hand. You took it gingerly, a look of disgust forming on your face as the entire thing was brown and dripping wet.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” you growled. Miranda shrugged sheepishly and muttered out an apology - you glared at her in return. “I need you to get me a fresh copy by this afternoon.”

Miranda opened her mouth to speak but you interrupted her, balling your hand into a fist and crumpling up the paper, tossing it on her desk. “And tidy your fucking desk like a grown up,” you snarled.

Miranda’s face was red as she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the office, taking large strides towards the elevators and disappearing from view. 

“She grows on you,” Robin supplied quietly, watching you watch Miranda. You snorted.

“I doubt it.” Your stomach churned uncomfortably even as you said those words. Why did this woman have such an effect on you?

“She’s been having a rough time, ever since the breakup with Adrian.” Your eyes widened at this piece of information - you’d known about Adrian’s affair, of course, but you’d never thought it would be with Miranda. “They were going to have a baby together, you know.”

You coughed, choking on your own saliva. “They what?” You couldn’t picture Miranda as a mother - she was far too clumsy and chaotic… and goofy. And generous. Okay, maybe you could picture it, a little bit. Your stomach churned uncomfortably - you didn’t know the details of the affair, but breakups were rough - you’d moved across the country after your last breakup. You suddenly felt ashamed for being such a bitch to her. 

“Yeah, well…” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I have a lot of work to do, so if you don’t mind…” You forced a smile and Robin raised her eyebrows, nodding and leaving you be. You tried to focus after that but you couldn’t, your mind wandering quite insistently to a certain constable. Guilt began to gnaw at your insides after having been so harsh with her. You’d have to - you wanted to - apologize for your behavior.

You locked yourself in your office and finished replying to your emails. Even half an hour later, Miranda was still not at her desk - nor was she in the kitchen, the locker rooms, or the alley under your window. You finally found her behind the station, looking out over the water and smoking a cigarette. 

“Hey,” you called, your heart clenching when you saw Miranda flinch as she turned to face you.

“Oh fuck. Look, I’m sorry, okay, I-”

“I’m the one who should apologize. Robin told me it was you.”

Miranda’s face scrunched up in confusion. She dropped her cigarette and took a step towards you. “Sorry?”

“You know, with Adrian.”

Recognition flooded Miranda’s features and she dropped her gaze to the pavement. “Oh.” She let out a hollow chuckle and turned again, walking towards the water and lowering herself to sit at the edge. You followed and took a seat next to her, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you. 

“Men are pigs, you know?” Miranda said after a moment’s silence. A loud snort escaped your lips, causing Miranda to laugh - you hadn’t heard her laugh so freely before, but it made your heart soar and you thought it might be your new favorite sound in the world. It wasn’t quite melodic, not necessarily akin to birdsong - it was loud and unabashed and very Miranda, and for some reason you found you really liked that. You couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“You’re alright, you know that, Hilmarson?” you said with a grin, gently bumping your shoulder into hers. Miranda’s laughter slowly died out but the smile remained on her face, accompanied by a faint blush.

“Thanks. You are, too.”

~~~

“Hilmarson.” You slung your jacket over your shoulder as you strode past Miranda’s desk the following day around noon. Her eyes grew wide and she dropped the pen she was holding, straightening her posture. “Come with me.”

Miranda scrambled to get up, slipping her phone into her pocket and following you to the elevators and out of the building. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, confusion evident in her tone as she scurried after you. You bypassed the parking lot, heading down the street instead.

“You’ll see,” you said with a smirk, wordlessly offering Miranda a cigarette. She fumbled around in her pocket for a lighter but you were quicker, holding up your own. “Hold still,” you murmured, holding the lighter up to her cigarette and lighting it for her, your eyes catching on the way her long, slender fingers held it, as if it were a delicate thing. 

Your destination was a nearby coffee shop, and you held the door open for Miranda to step through. “After you,” you purred, smirking at Miranda’s wide eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, she scrambled into the cafe, waiting awkwardly for you at the counter.

“It’s on me,” you said before ordering yourself a latte and a sandwich. “Get anything you like.”

Minutes later, you were sitting together at a little table in the corner.

“Look,” you started with a sigh. Miranda tilted her head. “Can we start over? I haven’t exactly been fair to you. You aren’t the reason I was late last week. I was angry and took it out on you, and that was really shitty of me.”

“I did spill cereal all over your shirt, though,” Miranda murmured with a sheepish grin, her cheeks turning adorably rosy.

“Yeah. Yeah, you did,” you said with a laugh. “That’s not the point, though. You’re too good to let yourself get walked all over, you know that?”

Miranda shrugged, unable to fully meet your gaze and focusing instead on her panini, out of which she took a huge bite.

“Not by me, not by Constable Brown, not by Adrian - you’re a solid officer and you have potential, you just need to stand your ground more.”

“Oh god,” Miranda spoke through a full mouth, her voice slightly garbled, her eyes wide. “Is this a performance review or something?”

You laughed, your stomach flipping as her blush deepened. “No. I just…” You hesitated, biting your lip and looking away. I just really like you. “I just wanted to apologize. I want us to work together, not against each other.”

“Really?” Miranda grinned, her eyes sparkling - the hope written across her face nearly made your heart stop, and you nodded. “I was so scared when I found out you were my new boss. I really thought you hated me.”

“I did, too,” you said with a laugh. “But… for the record, I don’t. I hope you don’t hate me.” 

Miranda’s cheeks puffed out as she chewed and she smiled widely. “I don’t.”

~~~

Ever since your lunch “date”, your feelings for Miranda were only growing. Your heart skipped a beat when you caught sight of her at the station, your stomach fluttered when you heard her voice. You even found yourself timing your smoke breaks with hers, just so you would have an excuse to chat with her and bask in her presence.

The following Friday at the bar, Miranda chose to sit down next to you. She placed a beer in front of you and offered you a wide smile - you felt your face flush as you muttered out an uncharacteristically shy “thank you”.

The two of you listened to your colleagues talk and banter - or rather, perhaps Miranda was listening, but you definitely weren’t. You were far too focused on the constable and your close proximity to one another; the way her shoulder bumped yours every so often, the way her hand flexed around her beer bottle, the way her throat bobbed whenever she took a sip.

Miranda laughed, throwing her head back, her shoulders shaking. She looked to the side, meeting your gaze - you couldn’t help but grin giddily back at her, chuckling a bit, and you could see her cheeks turn red as she returned your grin. 

After your third beer, you started to feel a little daring - you placed your hand gingerly on her thigh, your touch feather light as you were afraid of crossing a line. To your surprise, Miranda placed her own hand on top of yours - it was warm and soft and large, and you could feel your pulse pick up as her long fingers curled slightly around yours. When you dared to steal a glance in her direction, you could see a soft smile playing upon her lips.

~~~

“Hey.” A low voice coming from the doorway to your office caused you to look up from your laptop. A smile involuntarily spread across your face seeing Miranda leaning awkwardly against the doorframe, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Hi,” you replied - Miranda hadn’t come into your office proactively since you’d started working at the station, but you supposed a lot had changed in the past few days. “Do you need something?”

Miranda shook her head. “No, I, uh, I actually wanted to ask if you’d want to come over to my place for a beer or something tonight?”

“Oh.” A swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach at the prospect of spending one-on-one time with the blonde - who was looking increasingly like she was about to throw up, the longer you took to reply. “Yeah, yes, I would love to.”

Miranda’s eyes widened. “Okay, great. I’ll send you my address. How’s 7?”

“7 is perfect,” you said with a growing blush, chuckling as Miranda rushed back to her desk to grab her phone - your own phone pinged with a text moments later: an address.

~~~

You showed up promptly at 7, your heart pounding fiercely against your ribcage as you knocked on the door to Miranda’s apartment.

The door swung open to reveal the tall blonde, wearing the blue shirt she’d loaned you after spilling cereal all over you, as well as a pair of shorts. 

“Blue is definitely your color,” you said before you could stop yourself. It really was, though - it brought out the blues of her eyes, making them shine and sparkle against her pale skin. 

“Thank you,” Miranda said with a laidback grin, gesturing for you to enter her apartment. It surprised you to see that it wasn’t as messy as you’d have assumed it to be - it was definitely lived in, but it was clean and had very home-y vibes. More than anything, the first thing you noticed was the smell. It smelled like Miranda - light and clean, but with the faint scent of cigarettes clinging to the air. Her shirt had smelled like that, too, when you’d borrowed it, and though you never would have admitted it back then, you’d buried your nose in the fabric more than once before begrudgingly washing and returning it.

Miranda offered you a beer and guided you to her living room, settling on the couch and motioning for you to join her. The couch was relatively small and though you tried to leave some space between you, your knee ended up pressing lightly against Miranda’s thigh.

Despite your nerves, it somehow felt right to be in her space. You felt as though you were able to see a whole new side to Miranda - a side that you really liked. As the two of you engaged in some timid small-talk, you couldn’t help but wonder why she’d invited you - you hoped it was for the same reason that you’d said yes.

“God, I was so nervous to ask you to come over,” Miranda said with a cackle, shaking her head at herself before taking a swig of her beer.

“Were you?” The thought amused you greatly, and it gave you a shot of confidence. You dropped your voice an octave and leaned forward. “Do I make you nervous?”

Miranda looked like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes widening. Your eyes flicked briefly to her lips, to her wet, pink tongue darting out to lick them, and you found yourself leaning even closer. 

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?” you murmured, scanning Miranda’s face for any sign of discomfort. Miranda’s pupils dilated and her lips parted slightly.

“I would kiss you back,” she whispered, her gaze landing on your lips.

“Yeah?” you whispered back with a smile. Miranda nodded slowly.

“Uh-huh.” 

You closed the gap, your lips meeting hers - she tasted like beer and cigarettes, and her lips were impossibly soft. She kissed you back eagerly, whimpering a little as your tongue darted out over her lower lip.

You pulled back, your cheeks covered in a light blush.

“I’m sorry, I hope that wasn’t-” you started, but Miranda interrupted you with a second kiss, this one deeper and hungrier than the first as her hands grabbed your cheeks, holding you in place. Her tongue licked greedily at the seam of your lips, which you immediately parted for her. You let out a deep groan as her tongue slipped into your mouth, dancing with yours in near-desperation.

“You taste so good,” Miranda moaned, her voice low and sultry, and desire pooled in your core.

“Mmmh,” was all you could reply as your hands gripped at Miranda’s waist and you swung your leg over her lap to straddle her. Her hands slid down to your waist, then your hips, then came to rest on top of your thighs. She gave them a squeeze and you found yourself involuntarily grinding your pelvis into her lap, her touch sending your body into overdrive.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, Miranda swallowing your words as your bodies pressed against each other, a steady and suffocating heat building between the two of you.

The constable’s hands slipped under your ass and she turned you onto your back - breaking the kiss only briefly to position herself above you. One of her knees came to rest between your legs and she pushed it against your core, drawing a groan from your throat. The pressure was delicious against your aching sex and you bucked your hips to get some much-needed relief.

Miranda’s lips left your own and began to trail down your chin, your throat, your chest, stopping at the top button of your shirt - hot, wet, needy. She lifted her head and you looked down to meet her gaze - her pupils were blown wide with lust, her cheeks gorgeously flushed, her hair tousled.

“We- fuck,” you started breathily, finding it almost impossible to think as Miranda’s knee pressed against your clit. “We should slow down.”

Miranda nodded, her eyes widening and her cheeks bright red as she reluctantly pulled her leg away from your cunt. You bit down on your lower lip to stop a whine from slipping out at the loss of friction.

The constable settled half on top of you, leaning against the back of the couch and propping her head up on her arm. She closed her eyes as she tried to steady her heavy, ragged breathing. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with want. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Miranda’s eyes snapped open and she met your gaze, a slow, easy grin spreading across her face. “You’re not. I want this.”

“I don’t think I just want this,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and swallowing hard. “I want you.” 

“I want you, too.”

You opened your eyes and met Miranda’s bright, eager gaze, searching her face for any hint of doubt or hesitation. “Are you sure?”

Miranda nodded and you lunged forward, your lips crashing into hers as your hand snaked its way around the back of her head, holding her in place. Your fingers threaded through her hair - it felt like silk under your skin.

Your other hand settled on her waist, tugging her on top of you - her body weight pressed you down into the couch and you groaned at the feeling. You needed more, you wanted more, so your hands found the hem of Miranda’s t-shirt and you slipped underneath it. Her bare skin was impossibly smooth, and you felt electricity coursing through your body at the feeling of her soft hips in your hands. Your hands found their way up her back and you raked your nails over the expanse of it, pleased with the hungry growl that escaped Miranda’s lips.

Finding the clasp of her bra, you unclipped it, slipping a hand around to the front of her torso and under the loose fabric to palm her breast. She grasped desperately at your waist as your warm palm rubbed over her nipple, rolling it into a hard peak. Miranda let out a breathy sigh and sat up, straddling your waist and pulling her shirt off. Her bra followed, and both were discarded on the floor behind the couch. 

You felt the air leave your lungs as you stared up at Miranda - your mouth going dry. Her rosy nipples contrasted against her pale skin, her abdomen rippled with every heaving breath that she took. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch her, caressing her hips, her stomach, her breasts - flicking your thumbs over her pert nipples and watching them harden further.

Sitting up, you hungrily took one of the rosy buds into your mouth, sucking greedily and soothing your tongue over it as you felt Miranda’s hands thread through your hair. You repeated the process on her other nipple, thoroughly pleased with yourself when Miranda let out a soft, breathy moan - one that was so deliciously pornographic that you felt a wave of arousal course through you, your panties growing damp.

You released Miranda’s nipple, your hands drifting down to the buckle of her belt and making quick work of undoing it. Miranda took the hint, removing her pants in a hurry and then focusing her attention on your own clothes. Your own shirt was unbuttoned and tossed aside in an instant, your pants tugged down your legs and dropped onto the floor with the rest of the clothing.

Miranda’s bare skin was hot against your own and you pulled her back down on top of you, your pussy throbbing as her nipples brushed against yours. You kissed her with hunger and passion, your left hand palming her ass as your right hand found its way between your bodies to cup her pussy over her underwear.

The constable groaned, immediately grinding against your hand - you noticed that she’d soaked through the thin cotton of her underwear. You pulled the fabric aside and curled your fingers against the length of her slit, letting out a gasp as you felt her dripping for you.

“I need you,” she whined, shuddering as your fingers explored her folds - letting out a strangled whimper when you smeared her wetness over her clit and began to draw lazy circles over the bundle of nerves.

Miranda turned out to be as loud as she was sensitive - you found it easy to bring her to the edge, time and time again, your fingers applying a gentle pressure to her clit and pumping easily in and out of her, her slick walls drawing your digits in and clenching tightly around them. Her unabashed moans filled the air, echoing off the walls of the living room and having you wondering - only briefly, though - how thick those walls were.

After her fifth orgasm, when the stimulation finally became too much for her, Miranda whimpered and shifted her pelvis away from you. Taking the hint, you pulled your hand out of her underwear, your fingers shining with her arousal. You lifted them to Miranda’s face, smirking when she immediately opened her mouth and allowed you to place your fingers on her tongue. She sucked them clean, her flushed cheeks hollowing out, her kiss-swollen lips wrapped around your knuckles. 

You leaned forward to kiss her as she released your fingers, eager to taste the remnants of her orgasm on her tongue. The taste was heavenly - you were almost sorry that Miranda was so overstimulated - you’d have given everything to go down on her.

She pulled back from the kiss, her hot, heavy breath ghosting over your face as she rested her forehead against your own, trying to steady her breathing. A bead of sweat had collected on her forehead and you reached up to wipe it away, tucking a strand of mussed hair behind her ear. It was too short, of course, and immediately fell back into her face - it made you smile, and Miranda smiled - no, beamed - back, her eyes sparkling.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” you whispered into the silence - Miranda blushed and shook her head no. Her fingers danced along the waistband of your underwear, lightly at first as she leaned in for a languid kiss. Then her fingers curled under the waistband and began tugging, her lips trailing down your jaw, your throat, your sternum, your stomach - soft, warm, wet, hungry. She tugged your underwear down your legs, her lips immediately replacing the fabric as she pressed kisses to your mound, to your inner thighs - finally disappearing between your legs. 

You felt her tongue lap hungrily at your folds, little noises of pleasure coming from between your thighs and vibrating against your cunt. It was both adorable and extremely hot at the same time, how eagerly Miranda ate you out - sloppy, yet determined (and very skilled, you noted mentally, letting out a filthy groan as her lips latched onto your clit, her tongue flicking at the sensitive little bundle).

By the time Miranda was finished with you, your thighs were trembling and your breathing was ragged. The constable pressed one final kiss to your clit, before sitting up and grinning goofily down at you. Her chin was coated in your slick and her cheeks were flushed, and you couldn’t help but loop an arm around her neck and pull her close, licking your own arousal off her face before meeting her lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

After what felt like hours holding each other, kissing and regaining your breaths, you felt your eyes begin to grow heavy and you sighed.

“I should probably get going,” you murmured, your voice slightly hoarse.

“Yeah - of course.” Miranda blushed as she pushed herself off you. “Can you just wait here?”

You nodded, furrowing your brows as the constable stood and walked out of the room. You heard the tap running, then she came back with a wet washcloth.

“Is it okay if I…” Her eyes darted down between your legs as she took a seat next to you.

It was your turn to blush. “Yeah, that’s okay. Thanks.”

Miranda cleaned you up with great care, being extra gentle as she soothed the washcloth over your clit. When she was done, you got dressed in silence, then allowed Miranda to walk you to the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

“Would you want to…” she trailed off, not quite able to meet your gaze.

“Are you busy Saturday? Would you like to go on a date with me?” You couldn’t help but smile as Miranda’s eyes widened and she began to nod, a look of relief washing over her face as her lips curled upwards.

“Yeah - I’m not busy, I would love to.”

“Good.” You smirked, leaning in to press your lips to Miranda’s - her breath hitched in her chest. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

You turned to leave, exiting the apartment and walking down the hall. Turning around to wave goodbye, you could see Miranda smiling as her head poked out from behind the door. 

That night, you fell asleep with a soft smile on your face and a warmth in your belly - already mentally planning your date.

x

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Join my taglist here!

[sgiandubh]

Asymmetric Bars

Spent much of last night - and I could not really afford to do so: oh, well - watching the event unfold from the comfort of my couch.

Very pleased with all of the enthusiastic live reactions. They are better than any of our keyboard comments, simply because nothing can replace direct experience and personal perception.

I once told a (French) writer friend she couldn't properly start a novel about Russia without going there, irrespective of anything else. She was horribly pissed off and the new-ish friendship went down the drain - but I was honest and (it is my deep belief) also right. All things considered, same applies here: you were not in Sydney, well - all you can do is second-hand comment on what others saw.

I never pretended to be neutral, so I picked my trusted source and went with it, in my reblogs. So, there is no need for me to translate what @samheughanswife saw and shared: these are her things and this is her well-deserved privilege. But to me, it is the vicarious reactions that tell perhaps the most interesting tale and this short comment is about them, solely.

Hormones were obviously off the roof, disguised as they could, from gratuitous bitching to infantile drooling. That bracelet, FFS, it's a fan gift! What did you want him to do? Not wear it and they would have screeched he is dismissive and entitled. Wear it and they screeched it was tacky and 'classless' (according to one of the worst, shameless mythomaniacs in this fandom).

Funny how some (the same people, actually) see fan service where it is obviously not and conveniently forget about it exactly where it is absolutely obvious.

He looked tired. He looked hungover. His outfit sucked: who was the person expecting to see, I wonder, Houdini? JAMMF? POTUS? Michael Jackson? Benny Hill, so popular in their gif repertoire? His outfit was the one he always wears at cons, lately. There is nothing to write home about, but when you are a BBB (slainte and make it a triple), adding boredom to the mix, anything goes to feel alive and important.

It's always been about S, the most peculiar thing, really. Their OTT reactions to a happy go lucky, festive event justify why I don't give a damn about whatever they could ever say about anything else. Being vocal about something is directly proportional, in that group, to having no knowledge or exposure to that something. It is absolutely clear, now.

You wonder perhaps what happened next to my French writer ex-acquaintance. Well, she never wrote that novel. Instead, she went ahead and published a decent one about Nadia Comăneci, something she had a direct experience of.

I still have that email, somewhere.

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

06/11/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys Darby; Nathan Foad; Vico Ortiz; Rachel House; AdoptOurCrew Message; Pink News; #MoonGlowingWithPride; TellTaleTV Round 3 Reminder; Watch Parties; Articles; Fan Spotlight; LoveNotes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

== Rhys Darby ==

More pictures of Rhysie outside and in the hot tub! Is that an OFMD hat I spy?

Source: Rhys Darby's Instagram Stories

== Nathan Foad ==

Nathan posting cute pics on IG again.

Source: Nathan Foad's Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico is attending Dyke Day LA!

Source: Vico Ortiz Instagram Stories

== Rachel House ==

More pics with Rachel at the Sydney Film Festival!

Source: sarussellwords Instagram

== Adopt Our Crew ==

Did you know it's the 6 month anniversary of the first cancellation? Our AOC Crewmates sent out a lovely message.

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Instagram

== Pink News ==

Have I mentioned how much I love Pink News lately?

Source: Pink News Twitter

== #MoonglowingWithPride ==

Our absolutely stellar crewmate @xray-vex is leading a new way to celebrate queer joy, community and healing! Please join him and other crewmates on June 20-21, 2024 for the OFMD Full Moon & Solstice Event! See more information below!

Source: @xray-vex's Twitter

== Tell Tale TV Round 3 ==

Round 3 is up! This is the final round! Thank you to @ofmd-ann for these adorable graphic reminders! Please vote here and often!

Source: OFMD-ANN's Tumblr

== Watch Parties ==

Good Omens Season 2

Dates: June 10-14, 2024

Times: 3:30 pm PT, 6:30 pm ET, 11:30 pm BST

Episodes: M-Th: 1-4, F: 5-6

Where: RhysDarbyFaction Discord Server

Need access? Reach out to @gentlebeardsbarngrill on tumblr or @aspirantabby42 on twitter.

== Articles ==

== Fan Spotlight ==

== Cast Cards ==

Tonight's Cast Card from our sweet @melvisik is Eliza Jiménez Cossio, one of our writers!

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== OFMD Colouring Pages ==

More Our Flag Means Pride pages from @patchworkpiratebear and distributed by @adoptourcrew! I'm very excited to colour in the Rosy Maple Moth!

Source: AdoptOurCrew and PatchworkPirateBear's Tumblr

== Love Notes ==

Happy Taika Tuesday Lovelies. I gotta be honest, I'm not sure what to say tonight. I'm feeling very raw about a lot of different things, fandom related and home related. So tonight, what I'd like to do is share with you a mindfulness poem by Thich Nhat Hahn called "The River of Feelings".

" There is a river of feelings within us, and every drop of water in that river is a feeling. To observe our feelings, we sit on the bank of the river and identify each feeling as it flows by. It may be pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. One feeling lasts for a while, and then another comes. Meditation is to be aware of each feeling. Recognize it, smile to it, look deeply into it, and embrace it with all our heart. If we continue to look deeply, we discover the true nature of that feeling, and we are no longer afraid, even of a painful feeling. We know we are more than our feelings, and we are able to embrace each feeling and take good care of it. - Thich Nhat Hanh"

Our feelings are very important lovelies. Bad feelings are just as important as good ones. The more we understand them, the more we understand ourselves and others as well. Please be kind to yourself tonight crew. Tomorrow is a new day.

Img Source: The Latest Kate's Tumblr

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's theme is balls. Gifs courtesy of the brilliant @ofmd-ann and @neverswungonswingingstars

[mortalfollies]

fucking ridiculous that laura tingle has to defend herself for saying australia is a racist country oh my godd

i hope peter dutton explodes. anyway. really classy statement. unfortunate that she has to say peter dutton isn't racist despite it being an undeniable fact.

[brian-in-finance]

Video 📹 from Instagram

Image: Chris Smith / The Wrap

The 18 Buzziest Films for Sale at TIFF 2024

Mike Flanagan’s “Life of Chuck,” Angelina Jolie’s “Without Blood” and Ron Howard’s “Eden” are all looking for buyers in Toronto

While the Toronto International Film Festival won’t officially launch a sales market until 2026, this year kicks off on Thursday with multiple buzzy titles for sale starring the likes of Ben Stiller, Sydney Sweeney, Jude Law and Tom Hiddleston.

Hollywood descends upon the Canadian metropolis for starry world premieres and the unofficial start of awards season. But for years now TIFF has also been a place of serious business. Last year the Glen Powell rom-com “Hit Man” sold to Netflix for $20 million at the festival after a raucous screening.

“They’ve very much shaped this festival with a sales environment in mind,” Intrepid Pictures CEO Trevor Macy told TheWrap as he prepared to head to TIFF with the Hiddleston-fronted Stephen King adaptation “The Life of Chuck,” from writer/director Mike Flanagan. “It seems like buyers are showing up in force.”

And to prove his point, Sony Classics scooped up “Jane Austen Ruined My Life” on Tuesday ahead of the festival.

Over 270 films are on the market this year, and Macy said that the demand “for strong titles in this moment of the market is going to exceed the supply of what good distributors have made internally.” He pointed to the success of Neon’s “Longlegs” this summer — the Nicolas Cage horror film grossed over $100 million off a strong marketing campaign — as an indie that connected with moviegoers theatrically.

But Jay Cohen, a partner at Gersh who heads film financing and is selling titles at the festival, cautioned that studios may only be looking to buy must-have titles, not filling out their slates. “There are really interesting films going to TIFF, but distributors already have pretty full slates,” he told TheWrap. “So the market will be driven more by passion less than need.”

Which means that only top quality films with identifiable audiences will attract buyers. Still, one agent noted that many of the buzziest sales titles, while officially unsold, already have distribution deals that have not been announced.

Macy and Intrepid are aiming to utilize what TIFF brings to the table — specifically when it comes to audiences — to find the right distributor for “The Life of Chuck,” which is a detour for horror filmmaker Flanagan, best known for “The Haunting” series on Netflix and the “Shining” sequel film “Doctor Sleep.” The new film is more “Stand by Me” than “The Shining,” and buyers haven’t prescreened it at all, so they will be seeing it for the first time at its world premiere in Toronto.

“From the time we made this movie, our first choice was Toronto because of the audience,” Macy said of the decision to debut at TIFF. “Our movie is fun and life-affirming but kind of sophisticated, so you want the right audience for that.” He and Flanagan had success a decade ago with the indie horror film “Oculus,” which found a buyer in Toronto and grossed over $44 million against a budget of just $5 million. It jumpstarted Flanagan’s career.

Will “The Life of Chuck” have the same success? Here’s TheWrap’s rundown of that and 17 of the other buzziest sales titles playing at TIFF this year.

Nutcrackers • Eden • The Life of Chuck • The Deb • Without Blood • On Swift Horses • The Last Showgirl • K-Pops • Daniela Forever • All Of You • Ick • Relay • The Friend • The Last Republican • Vice Is Broke • From Ground Zero • The Assessment

The Wrap

Remember to follow the link to read synopses of the 17 other films.

[annabelle-creart]

Just as a little reminder (and spoiler) part. 2 Life of Rescue Bots Au

The Burnses siblings' mom IS NOT DEAD, AND IT IS NOT NAMED NORA.

Some irl context: I started to think the Au since August's last year, by that time I wasn't aware of the fandom and the things I did were related to MY headcanons and MY friends thoughts about what I have been telling them, like entire books :v

One of that things was the fact about the Burnses mom, who came up to the series (in my Au) for Family Week (a festivity in Griffin Rock that I created as an excuse to present the living families of the bots and the humans and talk about the ones who had been gone), one of them was Beatrix, Charlie's ex-wife (and actually I wrote that in the headcanons post), and I decided to make it this way because trauma in the Burns family wasn't an option, and because I was bored of the dead mom context, THE TRAVELLER AND SOMETIMES AUSENT MOM IS MORE INTERESTING FOR ME, OK???

But then, like 1 month ago, when the Rescue bots Zine arrieved an THE FREAKCING WRITER OF THE SERIES COLLABORETED AND I READ ABOUT NORA BURNS, jeez, it was cool, but I decided to not to use it for the Au because, not because the writer writted about it is canon (like She-ra and Catra's boy that the director made in a live once), and that's all.

Now, the in the Au context: Beatrix Sydney, before knowed as Beatrix Burns, she's a TV reporter who pass most of her time traveling and going from one place to another. After Cody's 8th Birthday she decided that she wanted to REALLY live her dream, even if her family worth it she never wanted to stay in Griffin Rock all her life (she divorced from Charlie a little later after Cody was born, he was basically the reconcilation but didn't work :v) so she made her packages and some job interviews and in some months she managed to become a really viewed reporter, but always maked calls to her kids and managed to return to Griffin Rock to visit and stay a while, she has a really tense relationship with Kade since the divorce, but both really care about the other. She stills treats Dani as her little girl but is very proud that she become a great pilot. Graham and Cody are still her little cute babies and always be and is a little sad that they are now starting to live their own lives but is also happy they are all following their own dreams and desires just like she did, and Charlie... well... they still love each other, but long distance relationships are hard...

(Ps: she loved the fact that there's actually transformers in the island (she knew since the first day), she loved it so much that had the same problem like with Prescott (her nemesis) but the family was capable to manage it (obviously she could make some interviews))

And that's all, bye🎶

[qnewsau]

Hannah Gadsby drops lineup of Netflix special Gender Agenda

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/hannah-gadsby-drops-lineup-of-netflix-special-gender-agenda/

Hannah Gadsby drops lineup of Netflix special Gender Agenda

“The last time Netflix brought this many trans people together, it was for a protest. So, progress,” Hannah Gadsby jokes in their new genderqueer comedy special Gender Agenda.

The Australian comedian signed a big deal with Netflix in 2022, after publicly slamming the streaming service for its handling of celebrity transphobe Dave Chappelle.

But at the time, Hannah, who uses they/them pronouns, had a request: that Netflix create a stand-up special featuring genderqueer comics from around the world.

That project is now titled Gender Agenda, and arrives on Netflix on March 5 with Hannah hosting and a lineup of seven performers.

They are Jes Tom, Alok, Asha Ward, Chloe Petts, DeAnne Smith, Krishna Istha and Mx Dahlia Belle.

Jes Tom has written for queer favourite Our Flag Means Death and recently wrapped the Elliot Page-presented one-person stage show Less Lonely.

Alok headlined the NYC Comedy Festival in 2021, and has appeared in Cara Delevigne’s Planet Sex and Netflix’s Getting Curious with Jonathan Van Ness.

Asha Ward is best known for being Saturday Night Live‘s youngest-ever writer.

Chloe Petts is currently touring standup show If You Can’t Say Anything Nice.

DeAnne Smith featured in Netflix’s Comedians of the World and is a regular on the Australian comedy festival circuit.

Krishna Istha was a writer for Season 4 of Sex Education and is currently working on a trilogy of performance pieces about trans motherhood.

Mx Dahlia Belle founded the Portland Queer Comedy Festival and took on Dave Chappelle in a high-profile open letter in 2021.

Hannah Gadsby explains Netflix stand-up special

Hannah Gadsby told Variety, “There is such a wealth of brilliant genderqueer comics out there, but such a dearth of representation on the major streaming services.

“Meanwhile jokes about trans people are becoming more and more lucrative.

“So it seems only right that at least some of those jokes be told by actual trans people themselves.

“I am beyond thrilled to bring this lineup together, showcasing seven extraordinarily talented comics and to use my platform (and Netflix’s…) to hopefully help catapult them into the spotlight that they deserve.

“They (and I mean ‘they’ in every sense of the word) are some of the funniest, smartest genderqueer comedians from around the globe, and it was an utter delight and true honor to share the stage with them.”

Back home, Hannah’s new solo stand-up show Woof! tours Sydney and Melbourne in March and April.

Lots more on Hannah Gadsby:

‘Amoral algorithm cult’: Hannah Gadsby rips Netflix

Hannah Gadsby signs new deal for more Netflix specials

Hannah Gadsby talks their marriage with ‘spouse lady’ Jenney

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[fearsmagazine]

Filmmaker James Croke discusses his feature film debut LATENCY.

In filmmaker James Croke’s feature debut he introduces us to Hana, a gamer with agoraphobia who is asked to test new gaming equipment that uses A.I. to read her mind, the line between reality and the subconscious begins to blur and she starts to wonder if the device is helping her or serving a more sinister force.

James Croke is a freelance writer and director with extensive experience in the field of design for both stage and screen, and graduated in 2005 with a Master of Arts from the Australian Film, Television & Radio School. Starting his career in stage design, James was based in London before returning to Sydney, Australia, where he began working in the Australian film and television industry. James’ 2014 short film, Shift, which he wrote, directed and produced was screened at over twenty film festivals worldwide, and received many accolades, receiving two Australian Cinematography Society awards and the Australian Production Design Guild award for design on a short film.

Director James Croke and actress Sasha Luss on the set of LATENCY.

LATENCY will be in US theatres beginning June 14th, 2024, from Lionsgate.

The music heard in the background during this episode is from Latency, by composer J-Punch.

Read Our Review of LATENCY - HERE

[magenta-somethings]

the other panelists (paraphrasing): you can finish a painting or record a whole album in a day, wouldn’t it be nice to do that with a book

samantha shannon: well, i’m sure brandon sanderson has at some point

— my attempt at transcripting an exchange between samantha shannon, garth nix and shelley parker-chan @ the sydney writer’s festival

[netherworldwritersguild]

Did You Always Want To Be A Detective? #SnipSun

 Anthology:

For the Love of Winter

Anthology Genre:

Holiday Romance

Buy Link:

https://books2read.com/b/baqw6y

Publication Date:

December 6, 2023

Ebook Price:

$3.99 (Amazon pre-order)

Book Blurb:

Bake your cookies, light some candles, trim your trees, and be enchanted with thirteen sweet-to-spicy Chanukah, Christmas, and New Year's novellas that will sweep you from colonial days to contemporary times—each bearing a gift of happily-ever-after grand finales. This joyous collection is...

A Winter Mating by Lia Davis. He returns to Willow Glen with one goal, to claim his mate. Convincing her that she belongs to him will be his toughest challenge, but he's not above using seduction to get what he wants.

One Night at Christmas by Danica Winters. As the busy owner of a veterinary clinic, Emily Avery always has her hands full of puppies but empty of the one thing she really isn't sure she wants anyway—a man. When the kind-hearted Derek Night makes an emergency call to help his mom's naughty pup, they both must step outside of their shells and let the magic of Christmas and one mischievous pup bring them together.

The Christmas Crash by Tessa Lyons. Sparks fly when a relentless optimist and a grieving veterinarian are snowed in together at Christmas. Can they rediscover the magic of the season and find love in the most unexpected place?

His Christmas Date by Sara J. Walker. In this heartwarming story of seasoned romance, Dino Dudley and Hilde McQuire must navigate family drama and their own emotional baggage to find true love.

Jordyn's Christmas Gift by Marie Morton. Jordyn Billings, a busy marketing executive, is gifted a holiday getaway to Chateau D'Or by her family, where she discovers an unforgettable and life-changing Christmas gift.

Four Chanukahs and a Wedding by Merrie Angel. Widowed and alone in 1973, Millie explores a professional photographer's life, and stumbles upon Adam--an insatiable adventure seeker related to Jackie Kennedy. Will they find a way to ignite a flame that burns far beyond Millie's expectations and set ablaze their own festival of lights?

Recipe for Romance by Gloria Ferguson. Ashley McClain wants to win the Holiday Bake-Off with her late mom's cupcake recipe. Can she join forces with her friend and neighbor to claim the prize and a bit of romance just in time for Christmas?

Before the Rising Sun by V.L. Czerny. Their romance blighted at a colonial ball, Gertrude and Nicholas, forgetting their past acquaintance, are maneuvered by the Christmas spirit to set love loose and so refashion time's expected plans.

Unexpected Angels by C.L. Hart. Sometimes the best things come together when everything is falling apart.

Christmas Market Magic by Tessie Benton. Sydney Hawthorne hires an escort for a business date, but he's not what he appears to be, and their mutual deception sparks desire while careers hang in the balance.

A Merry White Christmas by Sally Murphy. Merry London, tasked with organizing an opulent Christmas ball for the McPhersons, faces an unexpected challenge in the form of Joel McPherson, whose fiery charm threatens to melt her icy exterior and unravel her meticulously laid plans.

Lavender and Love Restored by M.J. Gates. Chief architect Jess Carlson is restoring a haunted historic hotel and helping a friendly spirit while reclaiming her life and love before the hotel's grand reopening on New Year's Eve.

Marry Me by Midnight by Leah Miles. Navy SEAL Kendall Nelson can't manage a successful proposal, and single mom Luisa Sanchez has no time for romance.

Proceeds benefit the First Coast Romance Writers, an independent non-profit organization helping writers hone their craft and expand their knowledge of the publishing industry.

Snippet

Read the previous snippet here. 

http://www.naughtynetherworldpress.com/2023/11/his-new-friend-mfrwhooks.html

Macario climbed into the car. As the men set off into the pounding rainstorm, Pika waved to them. The speed Dom drove would normally not have worried Macario, but he could hardly see the road ahead.

“I’ve never heard of Snowman Railways before,” Macario said, trying to distract himself from the velocity of the vehicle.

“Only elves and snowbirds have,” Dom laughed. “So, an FBI agent. Fascinating! Did you always want to be a detective, or did you fall into the profession?”

About the Author:

C. L. Hart, the owner and sole employee of Naughty Netherworld Press, is spoken of in hushed tones. She is described as The Mad Scribe of the Northeastern Colorado Plains, The Terrible Old Woman, and The Author That Should Not Be.

When not penning sanity-destroying works of dystopian fiction, Lovecraftian fantasy, or old-school horror with the occasional sweet romance thrown in to upset the cosmic apple cart, Ms. Hart enjoys creating baked goods she hopes will be considered palatable.

Ms. Hart shares a home in a remote rural town of 134 souls with her adult son and three cats. Her sense of fashion is best described as Early Twenty-First Century Unmade Bed. This disabled former nurse can usually be found arguing with herself about subplots or rehabilitating eldritch horrors.

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