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bitemealiienboy · 4 years

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Stay With Me | Dhawan!Master X Reader

REQUEST: ‘I have a request (with possible smut if you are ok writing it!) Dhawan!Master saves a female reader from something involving the Doctor (maybe the reader is bait for a monster that the Doctor is trying to take care of or something?) and takes her back to his TARDIS. They both have feelings for each other and at this point the reader is fed up with being at the whim of the Doctor and doesn't want to turn down the Master's advances any more, so she agrees to stay with him.’ (anonymous)

NOTES: Thank you so much for the request, I really liked this one, it was great fun to write, the ideas just came to me with this one so I kinda went crazy. Although there is no smut in this there is some making-out. This is set after The Timeless Children, so spoiler warning I guess. Hope you enjoy xX

WORD COUNT: 1728

WARNINGS: A lot of sadness, mention of injuries, slight mention of death, and some making-out. The gif is not mine, as always.

You had known the Doctor for years now, first meeting them when you were a teenager and they were a dark haired northern man. You never stayed with the Doctor for long, you’d stay for a couple of journeys and leave. But you’d always find yourself coming back to them and going on another journey. You’d seen the Doctors many faces, you’d seen them at their best and at their worst. But you’d never seen her like this.

Yaz caught you up to speed. She told you everything that you missed, spearing no detail. She told you about the Master's return to the Cybermen. From being sent to prison to Ryan and Graham deciding that their time with the Doctor was up. It was a lot, you understood why she was acting the way she was, but you didn’t like it. The Doctor was taking more risks not realising it was at yours and Yaz’s expense. She wasn’t thinking past tomorrow, this was why you stayed with her. The universe needed the Doctor, but not like this. She was also lying more, but that didn’t surprise you much. The Doctor had been lying long before all this, and you could hardly judge, you had secrets of your own.

You had seen the Master since the destruction of Gallifrey, he showed up on your doorstep, hurt and broken. Despite not seeing this new form of his, you knew it was him straight away. At first you wanted to slap him, for Martha, for Bill, for Missy. But the hopeless and painful look in his eyes made you stop. He was more damaged than before, you found yourself pitying him. Despite all you knew about the time-lord you let him into your home and helped him recover from his bruises and scars. He made you promise not to tell the Doctor he was alive, but not with his usual threats of violence. He sounded like he was begging you. He eventually left your home, but he kept coming back every so often. Sometimes he would have something new to say, to get off his chest and other times he’d say nothing, you presumed he just needed the company. As it became a regular occurrence you reluctantly gave him a spare key. You’d talk to him for hours, he was rather good company. Something you never thought you’d say. Over time you knew he was a changed man, he was far from Harry Saxon or Missy. The Master was an entirely different person. He was the reason why you met up with the Doctor again. You had to find out what was going on.

Which brought you here. Stuck on an alien planet, hiding from giant, hairy, flesh eating monsters who had a particular craving for humans that day. The three of you were hiding in an area of long grass trying to think of a way back to the TARDIS, which they happened to be guarding. Of course the flesh eating monsters had to be somewhat smart.

“I’m gonna see if there is another way,” the Doctor said as she army crawled out of sight.

“She’s gone too far,” you said to Yaz, keeping your voice down.

Yaz nodded in agreement, “I can’t keep doing this. But I don’t know how to tell her.”

“I understand,” you wished you could tell her that leaving the TARDIS was an easy thing. But it wasn’t. No matter how many times you had done it, it was always tough. You looked over at Yaz, “You should take Jack’s offer.”

“How do you know about that?” Yaz questioned in a hushed tone.

“Jack texted me about it, he probably wanted me to chase you up about it.”

“I just don’t know if I can leave the Doctor, not while she’s like this.” Yaz looked as if she was about to cry, you placed your hand on hers, to steady her.

“You’ll see the Doctor again, it’s never the end,” you said.

"I just don't think I could do it."

"Yaz, your life doesn't revolve around the Doctor," you said, getting a small laugh from Yaz.

"Maybe you should listen to your own advice," Yaz smiled, it was soft but there was a hint of sadness to it. “How did you leave the Doctor the first time?” Yaz asked.

“The first time I had no choice, the Doctor sent me and Rose home. Rose managed to save the Doctor, but I didn’t see them again till later that year. But the first time I left on my own was when Rose got trapped in another world. She needed some time alone to think.” You and Yaz both had a lot of time together to share stories of your travels, you told her the Doctors whole life story, well what you knew of it anyway.

“You think she needs some time alone again, to heal?”

“Yes,” you muttered just loud enough for Yaz to hear. “She needs to move on.”

The Doctor started shuffling back towards you, her face wasn’t showing any signs of hope. “Do ya want the good or the bad news first,” she said.

You and Yaz shared a look.

“Well, the good news is that I have a way out. The bad news is that it involves using myself as bait.”

“How are we meant to get back to Earth?” you questioned, “We can’t fly the TARDIS.”

“Didn’t I teach you, Y/N?” The Doctor said

“No.”

“I could have sworn I did," the Doctor scratched her head, thinking. "Huh…Maybe it was someone else.”

“Doctor use me as bait,” you said.

“No,” the Doctor looked at you, it was a look of warning. A look you never took any notice of before.

“Well my idea saves more of us and I wasn’t offering.” You didn’t dare look away from the Doctor. You wanted to try and see what she was thinking. You needed to outsmart her, just this one time.

“I just need more time to think,” the Doctor breathed.

“You’ve had hours,” you sighed, looking away from the Doctor so she couldn’t see what you were thinking. “Fine, five more minutes to come up with something Doctor,” you said, sternly.

You watched as the Doctor placed her fingers on her temple and began to think. You knew that she would probably be counting down the five minutes in that big brain of her as she thought of a solution. Two minutes passed, you looked over at Yaz as you slowly rose up from your spot. You smiled at Yaz, she knew what to do from here. You gave her a wink goodbye and started to sprint towards the monsters. You looked back, seeing that they were all following you. You could also see Yaz, putting the Doctor in the distance. You ran as far away from the TARDIS as you could, only stopping as you heard the little blue box leaving.

“Goodbye Doctor,” you whispered as you turned to face your death.

The sounds of the TARDIS came back, the monsters stopped in their tracks as they heard the sound.

“NO!” You screamed, “You weren't meant to come back! You idiot!”

It wasn’t the Doctor’s TARDIS that landed. Instead it was a little shack. The Master opened the door and didn’t move. He just slowly raised his arm and shot down all the monsters. It happened quickly. You just stood there blinking, struggling to process your thoughts.

“Are you coming or what?” The Master called out to you. He was a couple hundred meters away, he hadn’t moved from where he stood. He held out a hand, waiting for you to come to him.

You ran to him, you reached your hand out and grabbed his. He pushed you into his TARDIS, kicking the door shut with your foot.

“She shouldn’t have done this,” he began saying, his eyes searching your body for any injuries.

“It’s just a few cuts and bruises, Mas—”

“She really shouldn’t have done this,” he cut you off. His hand let go of yours, as he walked towards the kitchen and began rummaging through the draws. You followed him, jumping up onto the counter to sit down. He grabbed your arm again, putting plasters on your wounds. Even the small scratches.

You looked at your arm, now covered in plasters and back up at him. You raised an eyebrow.

“Too much?” He asked.

“Too much,” you confirmed.

He looked at you, contented, you could feel his warm breath on your face. You gave him a small half-smile.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. Your hand found his, your fingers touched his.

“It’s the least I could do,” he took your hand, his thumb gently traced the palm of yours. “Stay with me,” he said softly, “travel with me.”

“You want me to travel with you?” You were shocked. “What about my life back on Earth?”

“We both know you're addicted to this life,” the Master said the thing you could never admit to yourself. You always struggled to settle down on earth for a reason, it was the reason why you kept running back to the Doctor.

“I’ll think about it,” you said. You kissed the Master’s cheek, it felt like the right thing to do. You pushed yourself off the counter, your intention to leave the room.

“Y/N,” the Master grabbed you by the arm. He pulled you back. He looked at you for a moment, his eyes full of lust. He pulled you closer and then crashed his lips onto yours. You fell back in to the counter, while the Masters hands found their way to your waist. You thought about pulling away, never in a million years did you expect you’d be doing this. But at the same time it felt so right, like something you wanted for a long time. So, you placed your hands on his shoulders.

You eventually pulled away, both panting for breath. He pulled you into his chest, his chin rested on top of your head. You took in his scent, it was warm and calming. Your worry for the doctor slowly disappeared from your mind.

“I guess I could stay for a trip or two,” you said into his chest. A small smile appeared on his face as he planted a kiss on top of your head.

#doctor who imagine #The Master #the master x reader #the master imagine #Dhawan Master #dhawan master x reader #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #resquest

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itsalliepg · 4 years

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What Happened In Vegas - Drake x Erika (MC) - Part 5

SUMMARY: During Catherine’s engagement party, Erika (MC) learns the truth about Drake and Beth’s past.

PAIRING: Drake x Erika (MC)

RATING: Teen

WORDS: 2523

NOTE:English isn’t my native language. I write to practice and learn, so please sorry any mistakes. I hope you like it, and if you do, I’d appreciate if you like/comment/reblog!

Click here to read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Tagging @cora-nova @texaskitten30

Fanfic Masterlist

AO3 Profile

_You look incredibly gorgeous tonight – Drake said as he squeezed Erika’s hand. They were sitting together in the backseat of the car, the driver taking them to Roffinteau’s manor, twenty minutes from Erika’s Duchy. She smiled at her husband. He also looked very handsome in his new suit.

_And you should dress like that every day. It’s an amazing look for you.

_Nah, I still prefer my old jeans – he chuckled – but you look amazing in everything – he leaned down to whisper in her ear – in nothing either.

_Oh? – she smirked – I take that it’s your favorite look for me?

_Undoubtedly – Drake kissed her deeply, and Erika tangled her fingers in his hair. She wished they could skip the party and come home, so they could be together all night, but she promised they would be there, and Beth was really sweet to invite them. And probably lots of people would love to see them and congratulate them on the incoming baby. Five days ago, Erika posted a picture of her and Drake holding together a pair of baby shoes, and she confirmed in the description that they would be parents. Cordonian press was frantic, crazy about a picture or an interview of the Valtoria couple, as Drake and Erika were known to journalists and fans. That explained the number of photographers and reporters gathered in front of the mansion. Drake took a deep breath and Erika stroked his hair fondly – I hate it, Williams. I thought they would leave us in peace after the way we announced your pregnancy.

_Don’t worry, my love. We just need to answer what they ask and smile for the cameras.

_That’s the hardest part for me – he snorted, and she giggled.

_My adorable grump – she kissed his cheek – think of our baby, and I know you’ll smile – “our baby”. That sounded amazing, and right. Right – leave the rest with me – Drake got out of the car and reached for Erika. Soon, the couple were walking toward the manor, dozens of flashes lightning up, and a couple of journalists trying to get closer.

_Duchess Erika, duke Drake! Congratulations! You must be excited! – a reporter asked.

_We indeed are – Erika smiled widely – we always wanted children, and now our dream is coming true.

_Do you want a boy or a girl? – another reporter asked, trying his best to get closer with his microphone.

_Actually, we just want a healthy and strong child – Erika kept smiling. That was easier than she thought. Posing for pictures with Drake beside her was what she needed. How could this child not be his? Of course he was the father.

_We want a lovely baby that grows happy, smart and kind. We must give our best teachings – Erika smiled at Drake. She’d never seen him talking so sweetly about someone other than herself. That was adorable – but we already have Bartie in the family, so I’d love a girl, a little Erika – a wave of awwww’s filled the crowd, as Drake kissed her cheek, and the photographers went crazy trying to get the best shot of the couple. Erika smiled and thanked everyone before taking Drake’s hand and leading him to the hall – well, that wasn’t so hard – he sighed, relieved.

_I knew you’d be great, Walker – she kissed him quickly, and soon they were in the middle of a ballroom with a large staircase in the middle, very similar to Beaumont’s manor. Lots of silver-framed pictures and mirrors hung on the wall, and a picture of Roffinteau’s family was near the piano. Erika saw Beth in the picture, with a middle-aged couple and two young girls who look a lot like her – wow, it’s beautiful!

_I don’t even remember the last time I was here – Drake confessed.

_Drake! Erika! Welcome! – Beth approached them and hugged the couple, friendly. She was wearing a rose dress, made by a lightweight fabric, matching her delicate skin and face. As confident as she was, Erika felt somehow threatened by her figure – I love your dress, Erika! Is an Ana de Luca?

_Yeah, how do you know? – Erika asked, surprised, and Beth shrugged, chuckling.

_What can I say, I’m a huge fan of her dresses, although I chose something…French for tonight – she held the hem of her dress and Drake laughed.

_Always a show-off, you never change, Freckles.

_And you, in a suit! – she choked out in mock surprise – how did you convince him, Erika?

_I have my ways – Erika giggled, and saw a girl, one of the ones in the portrait, and a blonde young man, well-dressed and with perfectly straight hair. Beth smiled.

_This is my sister Catherine Roffinteau, and her fiancé, Henry Dobrev – the host couple shook hands with Erika and Drake – these are Erika and Drake Walker, duchess and duke of Valtoria.

_It’s a pleasure to meet you. And congratulations on the engagement!

_Thank you so much! And it’s amazing to finally meet you in person, Erika, I love your story, it’s almost a fairy tale – Catherine said in a shrill voice.

_It’s almost unbelievable how far you’ve gone due to your…background – Henry said, pompously – I admire that, tough.

_Oh, thank you – Erika answered, and Drake just rolled his eyes, discretely.

_Oh, look, it’s Penelope! Excuse us, make yourselves comfortable – Catherine said, and holding Henry’s hand, walked over to Penelope and her parents. Then Erika noticed the couple of the picture, Beth’s parents, looking horrified at her and Drake. Beth noticed too.

_I think my dad wants to talk to me, excuse me. There’re drinks on that table – Beth said quickly, pointing to a table near the stairs. They were trying their best to disguise, but Erika saw they were arguing with Beth, looking at her and Drake.

_I knew this would happen – Drake snorted, and Erika looked at him in surprise.

_What? What’s the matter with Beth’s parents?

_Let’s just say they’re the kind of nobles who make me hate nobles, Williams. They never approved my friendship with Beth, because I don’t have a title, and they never understood why Constantine let Liam and Leo be my friends. And of course, they don’t like you either, because you were a waitress before being named duchess.

_Ah, I see – she frowned and stroked his cheek – but we shouldn’t let them ruin our night. Let’s go find the gang and…

_Excuse me – Beth’s voice interrupted Erika. She brought her parents with her, and they didn’t seem happy to see them – Erika, these are my parents, Count Benedict and Countess Jacqueline Roffinteau. I’d like to introduce you Duchess Erika of Valtoria, and Drake, well…

_We know Drake very well – Benedict forced a smile and shook Erika’s hand – nice to meet you, Duchess Erika and, nice to see you again, Mr. Drake Walker, or should I call you Duke Drake Walker? – Erika was startled by his tone of voice and expression at Drake, as if her husband was a disgusting insect that needed to be expelled from there. Jacqueline smiled at Erika, but her smile was as forced as her husband’s.

_Nice to meet you, Duchess Erika. And as I can see, Drake is now one of us. Although his passport to nobility isn’t…legitimate – Erika knew Jacqueline was trying to humiliate her, but she wouldn’t give in.

_Well, as long as Liam recognizes, I’m a Duchess and Drake is a Duke.

_Liam was always like that, so close to the people… - Benedict made a face.

_That’s why he’s so loved by Cordonia – Drake replied.

_Look, mom, dad, is Viscount of Graham, why don’t you go greet him? – Beth quickly dropped the subject and nodded to a couple who were talking to Catherine and Henry. They said nothing and headed to their old friends. Embarrassed, Beth turned to Drake and Erika – I’m so, so sorry for that. I begged them to behave.

_Don’t worry, Beth. I should have known – Drake snorted.

_I can see we’re not exactly…welcome here – Erika frowned – but as I told Drake, we can’t let them ruin our night.

_You’re absolutely right – Beth smiled, and her smile widened when she saw Hana waving at them – I have to help Cathy play the hostess, but you should have fun with the gang – Olivia, Liam and Maxwell were next to Hana, and also waved to the Valtoria couple. They bowed and walked to meet their friends.

Erika was surprisingly happy. She suppressed the thoughts on the parenting issue and had a great time with her friends. She even had fun with Maxwell, being near him wasn’t scaring her anymore. She realized she should focus on the good things in her life, and everything would be alright. She was convinced the baby was Drake’s, and end of the story.

At some point, Erika went to the bathroom. When she was leaving, she could hear Beth and Jacqueline’s raised voices from a bedroom. The door was closed, but she could hear everything.

_I can’t believe you invited Drake, Beth! You know what your father and I think of him!

_What’s the problem? He’s my friend!

_Oh, I remember how close you were, believe me.

_Mom, he’s married now, and I wouldn’t do that!

_You wouldn’t? – Jacqueline laughed – did you forget about William? You almost destroyed his marriage! And now are you planning to do the same with Drake? I’m starting to think this is your fate. Catherine is younger than you, and is about to get married. Do you want to be a secret, a lover, the other woman, forever?

_No, mom, of course no! – Beth shouted – could you please stop treating me like a whore?

_Then stop behaving like this. You and Drake aren’t teenagers anymore, control yourself at once – Erika was immobile, but when she heard the door open, she quickly hid in the bathroom again. Shaking, she picked up the phone from her purse and texted Hana.

“Could you and Olivia meet me outside?”

“Sure. On the garden swing?”

“Okay”

Finding the garden swing wasn’t difficult, especially since Olivia and Hana were already there waiting for her. Erika ran to her friends and they noticed the tears leaving her eyes insistently.

_Erika! What happened? – Hana asked, worried. Erika sat on the swing, each of her hands holding Hana and Olivia’s. She told them everything she heard from the discussion between Beth and her mother.

_But the worst – she sobbed – is that Jacqueline implied that Beth and Drake had something in the past, when they were teenagers – Olivia and Hana looked at each other. Erika noticed – so, is it true? Did they date in the past?

_Yes – Olivia sighed – Drake was Beth’s first boyfriend, when she was fourteen, and he was sixteen. They secretly dated at first, only we, Liam, Maxwell and Bertrand knew, because we knew her parents would forbid their relationship. And that’s what Jacqueline and Benedict did when they found out.

_They dated for almost six months, and Beth promised she wouldn’t see Drake again. But they were still seeing each other in secret. Then her parents discovered again, and that’s why they sent her to Belgium to study and work. She would prepare for her family business and stay away from Drake, that was a win-win in the Roffinteau’s book – Erika gaped. Somehow she felt something weird between Drake and Beth, but she reprimanded these thoughts. Maybe her brain was messed with pregnancy, but she was right.

_So, they only broke up because her parents forced them? – Olivia and Hana nodded – and…in this case, maybe they’re still in love with each other?

_No, no, Erika! – Hana’s eyes widened – it was a long time ago!

_I’m sure he already forgot her – Olivia said – he liked Beth, but he truly loves you. I can tell by the way he looks at you, the way he treats you. He has never done this for anyone before – Olivia gazed deeply into Erika’s eyes – what I will say may be hard, Erika, but despite our differences, I trust Drake. Who I don’t trust is Beth.

_Oh? – Erika was surprise – but she’s your friend, isn’t she?

_That’s why we don’t trust her – Hana added, making Erika even more surprised.

_That William Jacqueline said is the Duke of Albanera, an old friend of Benedict. His son Antonio was engaged to Beth, until he found out she was having an affair with his own father. Victoria, William’s wife, wanted to make a scandal and tell everyone what happened, but in the name of her friendship with Jacqueline and Benedict, she didn’t. We know it because Beth told us, and she was sad that she wouldn’t see Antonio again. If she really liked him, why was she sleeping with William?

_And I’ve seen her hinting on Landon, Penelope’s father! – Hana revealed – she’s not afraid to seduce married men.

_I can’t believe! – Erika exclaimed – but she was always so nice to me and Drake…okay, sometimes I noticed something strange between them but…I thought it would be because of their friendship in the past.

_If you consider Drake, yes, but if you consider Beth…be careful, Erika – Olivia opined.

_We’re telling you this because we’re your friends – Hana took her hands – and we know Beth. She’s a nice person, but not when she’s around men. Married men – while they walked back to the party, Erika wondered what Hana and Olivia told her. She had no problem with Beth and Drake having had a relationship in the past. The present was what mattered. And if Hana and Olivia were right, now her present was in danger. What if she tried to seduce Drake? Would he want to revive their old days? No…how could Erika think something like this about Drake? Even Olivia trusted him, why Erika wouldn’t? How could she not trust his love? Her thoughts were interrupted by her husband, encircling her waist with his arms.

_Hey, Williams! Where have you been? I was looking for you.

_I was outside with Olivia and Hana, sorry if I keep you waiting…

_No problem, I didn’t want to screw Little Lulu’s Club reunion either – they laughed – Catherine and Henry are about to make a speech and cut the cake.

_Oh, I’d like to see this – when Erika saw Beth near her family, she felt a flutter in her stomach – Drake, can I ask you something?

_Of course.

_Do you love me? – he arched an eyebrow.

_You know I love you, Erika, I say that all the time! – Drake hugged her – I love you more than anything, more than I’ve ever loved anyone – he noticed her frail expression, and a few tears leaving her brown eyes – hey, what’s the problem?

_Nothing, it’s just…I think I’m more sensitive because of pregnancy… - he smiled and pulled her into his arms again.

_If it makes you feel better, I love you, Erika Williams-Walker. I’ll always love you, no matter what happens – that last line clicked into her mind. I’ll always love you, no matter what happens. It doesn’t matter if Beth tried to seduce him. It doesn’t matter if that baby wasn’t his. Erika kept repeating that in her mind.

I’ll always love you, no matter what happens.

#the royal romance #drake walker #drake x mc #drake x erika #fanfic #choices fanfic #choices #playchoices

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lilacmoon83 · 5 years

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Witness Protection

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 6: Final Stand

David's face was stony, as he stared at the monster across from them. He had a lot of nerve, expecting them to be in the same room with him, let alone break bread.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't arrest you let alone kill you right here on the spot?" David questioned. Leopold smirked.

"I am not wanted for any crimes," the old man refuted.

"That we can prove...yet," David hissed in return. Leopold chuckled.

"There will never be anything to prove, Deputy. I warn you to stop this pursuit to send me to jail," he leered.

"Don't you dare threaten him…" Snow hissed at him.

"Living so far apart is not what I wanted for us at all, Mary. It's time for you to come home. And since your husband has a certain set of skills, I can even offer him a very lucrative position in my security team," Leopold said.

"Hard pass," David refuted.

"I will never put myself or my family under the same roof as you ever again. We want no part of the evil Empire you've built," Mary said with vehemence.

"Your defiance is tiresome, my dear. I encourage you to not force my hand," he warned.

"Stop making threats. This meeting is over," David said, as they stood up and he ushered his wife out. She hurriedly pushed the stroller out and she waited until they rounded the corner for the tears to start.

"We're never going to be safe from him," she sobbed, as he took her in his arms.

"Yes we are...he's not forcing us from our home this time," he assured, as he held her. But she shook her head.

"Oh David...I want to believe that. But you know him. He probably has his goons ready to move in on this town with one phone call," she cried. He wished that he could refute that claim, but he knew she was right.

"You're right...let's go pack a few things and maybe we can be in the wind before he can send them after us," he agreed, as they hurried home.

"Okay sweetheart...let's get you changed into a better outfit for traveling," she cooed, as she put their daughter on the bed, while he was hastily packing the essentials for them and their toddler.

"We're going to go on a trip, sweetheart. But you don't have to worry, because we'll be together," she added, as she finished changing her and then bundled her up again.

"Mama…where are we going? I like it here," Emma whimpered.

"Oh, I know sweetie...I wish it didn't have to be this way. There's a very bad man after us, but you don't have to worry, because mommy and daddy will protect you," she assured, as he sighed. He hated this. He hated that they had to run, because of Leopold again.

"I'm going to confront him. This has to end," he said.

"David...no! He'll have his men kill you!" she cried, as she rushed to his side.

"I can't lose you," she pleaded and he sighed, as he kissed her passionately.

"We may never be able to stop running if we don't take a stand," he reminded. But she shook her head.

"If running means that we're together, then we run," she said, as they grabbed a few bags and prepared to leave. But were stopped dead in their tracks when Leopold appeared in their doorway, along with two of his goons that she recognized as Rivers and Carny.

"I'm afraid your running days are over, my dear," he said.

"I gave you a chance to come home, but now you have forced my hand," he added, as he motioned to the two men, who brandished their weapons and held them on the little family.

"Please don't do this…" Mary Margaret pleaded.

"You have left me no choice," Leopold said, as they were led outside.

"The woods should do, Sir. There's plenty of cliffs we can toss his body off," Rivers said, as he pressed the barrel of his gun against David's head.

"No...please! I'll do anything! Just please don't kill him," Mary Margaret sobbed, as her father grabbed her arm roughly.

"March him toward the woods. Let's get rid of him and then we will return to Seattle where we belong, daughter," he said, as they walked in silence for a while, with the only sound being the crunching leaves beneath their feet and the sounds of Mary Margaret and Emma's sobs.

"Mary Margaret…" David called back to her, as Rivers roughly moved him forward.

"David…" she called, as Emma started crying harder and her father had a vice-like grip on her arm.

"I love you...and I love Emma," he said.

"I love you...father, please don't do this!" she begged.

"I have been patient with you, Mary...but your constant defiance has led to this," he hissed, as he brought her face close to his.

"You are mine, daughter...and it's time you take your place by my side," he growled.

"The hell she is," David growled, as he shoved Rivers away and grabbed her hand, as he took off into the woods. She yelped, as bullets rang out, sailing around them and Emma wailed now in fright. David pulled her along, but then stopped when he found none other than Mayor Fiona Gold in their way, along with more of her father's men.

"I'm afraid that it's the end of the line for this charming little family," she cooed.

"You...you're the reason he knew where to find us, aren't you?" Mary accused. She smiled smugly.

"Sorry dear...but I did my research on you the moment you stepped into my town. Your don't belong here and it's time you leave," she said, as Leopold and the other two caught up to them.

"There's a cliff side nearby. Shoot him and then you can be on your way," she stated, as Rivers and Carny began to march him toward the cliff.

"NO! Please...you can't take him from me!" Mary screamed, as she tore away from her father and hurried after them, but his men blocked her way. Leopold grabbed her arm and she yelped, as he slapped her face.

"You will learn your place, Mary…" he growled, as he held her arms and looked at her.

"Oh yes...you will learn your place," he leered and she spit in his face at that.

"Any final goodbyes...because now is the time," Rivers said, as he aimed the gun at David, as they arrived at the cliff. He would be shot and then his body would fall into the river, probably never to be found.

"The day I met you was the best day of my life. I love you so much...and I love our children," he said, as a few tears slipped down his cheeks.

"You're going to lose your life for me," she sobbed.

"It would have been better if you had never met me," she said. But he shook his head.

"No...my life became complete, because of you. You're worth all this and more, you and our babies," he said tearfully, as she sobbed uncontrollably.

"If I lose my life for love...well, I can think of no better reason to die. I just regret that I won't be there to protect you anymore," he replied.

"I love you...I'll love you for eternity. And I'll find you...I'll find you in our next life or whatever is after this one," she promised. He smiled.

"I know you will...and I'll be waiting for you," he said, as he prepared to take his final breath once he heard the gun cock. But several shots rang out, before David could be shot. Rivers and Carny fell dead to the the ground. The five other goons with them sprayed bullets into the woods from where the sniper shots had come from. David wasted no time and grabbed one of the guns and picked off three more, while holding his weapon on Leopold and Fiona. The last two went down, as Rogers and Weaver emerged from the woods.

"You two really like to wait until the very last minute," David quipped, as he saw that Leopold still had a firm grip on his wife's arm.

"Stay back…" he warned.

"Let her go, you sick bastard," David growled.

"You won't dare shoot me now...not while I have her," Leopold said, as he brandished his own gun.

"Let's go, my dear...our car is waiting," he said, as he started to move away from them. Suddenly...he heard a growling and Mary tore away from him, just as a wolf came out of nowhere and began to maul her father. Mary gasped and turned away from the carnage, as the wolf proceeded to rip him apart.

"It's about time you got here," David said, as he shielded her and Emma from the sight. Graham smirked and whistled, calling the animal back to him.

"Even I noticed when a bunch of goons dressed in black are moving around town," he drawled, as he proceeded to hug them both. Mary gently peeked around her husband and saw that her father was still alive, bloodied and mangled, as he tried to get to his feet. She gasped, as she saw him crawling toward Carny's discarded gun.

"David!" she cried, as he grasped at in a last attempt to shoot her husband, but Weaver was quicker and pumped three bullets into his chest. Leopold fell back and off the cliff side, into the river. She felt herself breathing a sigh of relief at that, as horrible as it was, but considering all the things he was about to do, she decided that she was entitled to that relief.

"It's over, my darling…" he promised, as Rogers hurried over to them.

"Good to see you both are okay," he said, in relief, as he hugged them both.

"It's good to see you too...how's Alice?" Mary asked. He smiled.

"You can see for yourself. She and Roni are back at the diner," he told her, as they watched Graham cuff the Mayor.

"You are under arrest, Mayor Gold," he announced.

"You set this up," she spat at Weaver.

"I knew when I sent them here that you'd spill the secret to Leopold. You both fell for it all, hook, line, and sinker," he said, in a pleased tone.

"Wait...you planned all of this?" David asked incredulously. Rogers snorted.

"Of course you did," he deadpanned.

"Relax...you were never in as much danger as it seemed, but I couldn't let anyone else in on it if it was going to work," he assured.

"Well played, my son…" Fiona complimented.

"The district attorney will have me out in no time, though," she added.

"Wrong mother...I have enough to make sure you go away for life. The whole case is already on the way to Augusta and the police department there will be here in the morning to escort you to prison upstate for trial. I doubt it will go your way," Weaver responded.

"Wait...she's your mother?!" David exclaimed.

"How is that? She looks younger than you," Rogers added.

"Nevermind...let's get this little one and our mother-to-be back to town. Roni is probably pacing a hole in the floor of that little diner," Weaver said, as they followed him, just as his cleanup crew arrived to take care of the bodies. It was mind boggling and surreal, but it was all over now, for good. David and Mary smiled at each other, as they realized there would be no more running in their future. Just happiness and family now that the shadow of her evil father was no longer hanging over them.

"I love you…" she sniffed, as he held her close to his side as they walked. Emma was calm again and falling asleep in her father's arms.

"I love you too, my darling," he whispered, as they shared a tender kiss

"Oh my God...there you are!" Roni cried, as they entered the diner. Mary rushed to her and they shared a tight hug.

"I've missed you," Mary confessed. Roni sniffed.

"I've missed you too," she replied, as Alice ran to her father.

"Papa!" she called, as she toddled to her father and he swept her up.

"Hello starfish," he cooed, as he cuddled her.

"Well, I'm not sure what happened out there, but I sense it was quite an ordeal. I hear our town has been saved though, so dinner is on the house while you tell me the whole story," Granny announced, as they found a large table and sat down together. It felt like family again and she smiled, as Roni took Emma from her, finally meeting her properly for the first time. They sat down together and for the first time since they had left Seattle, Mary and David felt true relief. They were safe now and they were going to stay that way, for the threat hanging over them was lifted at last. Now, they could just simply be a family and in love. She rested her head against his shoulder, as they ate and drank happily with the people they considered family, including their new friends they had made in Storybrooke. This was home now and they would never have to run from it again...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #feat little Emma #Modern AU #Evil Leopold #Roni #Weaver #Rogers #Alice #romance #family #adventure #witness protection

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kanasmusings · 6 years

Text

[Translation] Lycoris no Mori Drama - Track 2 Part A

Thank you for being patient for the second part! I had to divide it into two parts since it’ll be very long if it’s only in one part ^^ (It’s 34 minutes y’all XD)

TRACK 1 | TRACK 2 A | TRACK 2 B

Under the cut for length, enjoy~

TODD: The hell’d you say?! You let the prey get away?!

TODD: What sort of blunder--?! What happened to your reputation as a werewolf, huh?!

RANDOLPH: I went to the place as ordered but no kid wearing a red hood passed by.

RANDOLPH: Maybe he didn’t receive your instructions properly.

TODD: (clears throat) Tch, just when I finally got a buyer. And for a huge amount of money, too. To a quite infatuated person.

TODD: I thought I told you all about our prey in great detail.

TODD: His face and all parts of him that are candy to the eye.

TODD: I heard that he’ll taste very sweet.

RANDOLPH: Spoken like a true monster.

TODD: Yeah. Truly survival of the fittest.

TODD: Plus, the world revolves around money.

TODD: I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s most aware of that.

TODD: You’re someone who was sold by a relative for money, too.

RANDOLPH: It’s not my concern what happens to the prey.

TODD: Listen, Randolph.

TODD: You can’t ever escape this business.

TODD: Who do you think saved you from more humiliation?

RANDOLPH: (sighs) I know.

RANDOLPH: You don’t have to intimidate me. I won’t run away.

RANDOLPH: I’m bound to you with an invisible chain.

TODD: As long as you understand.

TODD: Oh, yeah. I’ll tell you something good about the prey so you won’t miss him next time.

TODD: He has fiery red hair and red eyes that shine like a jewel.

TODD: Simply being by his side is enough to make your day brighter.

TODD: That’s right. A child that’s truly like the sun.

TODD: His name is…

TODD: Blood.

RANDOLPH: …!!

RANDOLPH: Blood?!

TODD: I won’t forgive failure next time.

TODD: Are we clear? (laughs maniacally and then walks away)

(Todd opens and then closes the door)

RANDOLPH: Don’t tell me…! That boy is…!

RANDOLPH: Why does such a thing have to happen to an innocent and nice boy?!

RANDOLPH: A child under the same circumstances as I am…!

RANDOLPH: Do I really have to do it with my own hands?!

BLOOD: I love your smiling face.

BLOOD: It’s such a kind smile.

BLOOD: It’s our little secret, okay?

RANDOLPH: You made me remember a warmth I already forgot.

RANDOLPH: Would it have been better had we not met?

RANDOLPH: What should I do…?!

***

GRAHAM: Blood should probably—Ah, I don’t want to think about it!

GRAHAM: I had no other choice but to do this for me to live.

GRAHAM: This will again be another sin…!

GRAHAM: Please forgive me. Forgive me, Blood.

(Door opens suddenly)

BLOOD: I’m back!

GRAHAM: (is obviously shocked) B-Blood?!

GRAHAM: You—Why are…?

BLOOD: Um… I got lost and I couldn’t get to Alvin’s house.

BLOOD: It rained on the way, too, and, um…

BLOOD: I couldn’t keep my promise to not stray from the path.

GRAHAM: A-ah…! I-I’m glad that you’re safe!

GRAHAM: A-are you sure nothing happened? I was so worried!

BLOOD: Eh?

BLOOD: I thought you’d get mad at me… Plus, your hands are shaking so badly.

BLOOD: What’s wrong?

GRAHAM: T-there’s… There’s no way I’d be mad.

GRAHAM: It’s just that um… I was surprised.

GRAHAM: A-ah, that’s right! I remembered I had something to do. I’ll be going at for a bit, okay?

(Door closes and Graham leaves)

BLOOD: He didn’t hug me or say “welcome back.”

BLOOD: Big brother…

***

(Scene: In the village)

(Crowd chattering)

VILLAGER A: I heard they saw someone unknown in the forest.

VILLAGER A: That’s probably a werewolf, huh? Guess he’s wandering around there looking for something.

VILLAGER B: How frightening!

VILLAGER A: We have to be careful, too. I heard that werewolf’s got a scar on his face!

BLOOD: A scar on his face… (gasps)

BLOOD: Hey, is that true?!

BLOOD: I’m sure you’re just mistaken!

VILLAGER A: I can’t say I am. I mean, there were people who saw him.

VILLAGER A: Plus, it’s obvious that a werewolf is evil.

BLOOD: “Evil,” you say…

BLOOD: Even though you haven’t met him?!

BLOOD: He’s very kind!

VILLAGER B: You’ve met him?! The werewolf?!

VILLAGER B: How unbelievable! And to think you came out unscathed…!

VILLAGER B: Blood, don’t tell me you’re… The werewolf’s accomplice?!

VICTOR: Stop that!

VICTOR: Calm down. You’re talking to a kid, you know?

VILLAGER B: Ah…

VILLAGER A: Mr. Victor!

VICTOR: Blood, don’t say such careless things. Do you understand?

VICTOR: Now, won’t you tell me about what happened?

BLOOD: He let me stay with him during the rain when I got lost.

BLOOD: He’s a little rough sometimes but he’s really nice!

BLOOD: If he was really evil, I won’t be here right now!

VICTOR: Shh. Listen, Blood. I won’t say mean things but it’s better for you not to get involved with him.

VICTOR: A werewolf’s an unpredictable being.

VICTOR: Even if he puts up a nice face, it may only be simple lies.

BLOOD: That’s not true! He had such honest eyes!

BLOOD: My heart felt warm when I talked to him.

BLOOD: A-also, his laugh is so gentle! Very gentle!

VICTOR: He’s just deceiving you.

VICTOR: Or maybe he was just threatening you.

VICTOR: You shouldn’t get too close to a being with such an evil intention.

BLOOD: I have nothing to talk to you about! If you think I’ll listen to you, you’re very wrong!

BLOOD: You’re always like that! You think that I’ll just go along with what you say!

BLOOD: I don’t like that about you!

VICTOR: What about you?! You believe too much in the things you think are right!

VICTOR: You don’t know anything. Even about your own family.

VICTOR: Look at reality!

VICTOR: How many of your siblings have disappeared now?

VICTOR: They’ve been sent away to relatives far from here. It’s obvious so that your father would have less mouths to feed.

VICTOR: Why hasn’t your father come back?

VICTOR: Maybe it’s because you guys have been abandoned.

VICTOR: Plus, do you really think that brother of yours is someone you can trust?

VICTOR: I’m just worried about you, Blood.

VICTOR: Covering for a werewolf is a big deal.

VICTOR: The only one you can trust is me!

VICTOR: I can protect you.

(Crowd cheering)

VILLAGER A: That’s right! The werewolf is the enemy!

VILLAGER B: You’re our guardian, Victor!

VICTOR: Thank you. Thank you, everyone.

BLOOD: We promised to meet each other again! That we’d go and see a wider world together.

BLOOD: Randolph is my friend!

VICTOR: Randolph? Is that the werewolf’s name?

VICTOR: We can’t let him be. In order for the village to stay safe, we have to chase him out of the forest.

VILLAGER A: Yeah!

BLOOD: …!!

BLOOD: What did he do to you?! He hasn’t done anything wrong yet!

VICTOR: That’s why we’re stopping him.

VICTOR: So that he won’t have a chance to do anything to the village.

VICTOR: Men! Grab any weapon that you can! We will protect our village!

VICTOR: We won’t forgive an evil werewolf!

VILLAGER A: Kill the werewolf!

(Crowd starts cheering again)

VILLAGER B: Don’t let the evil one get away!

BLOOD: (scared and panicking) Victor, you idiot!

BLOOD: I HATE YOU!! (Blood runs away)

VICTOR: Blood…!

***

VICTOR: Is the preparation for catching the werewolf going well?

VICTOR: All we have to do next is to make our way to the forest, navigate in the dark, and then lure him out.

VICTOR: Protecting the village and making sure the people are at ease is my duty, too.

VICTOR: After all, I am this village’s hero.

(Wind starts blowing outside)

VICTOR: I am right.

BLACK HOOD: “I hate you, Victor!” (giggles)

VICTOR: What are you?

VICTOR: You’re an unfamiliar face.

BLACK HOOD: I am someone who understands you best.

VICTOR: This is my cabin, you know? Get lost.

BLACK HOOD: Victor~ The villagers passionately trust in you.

BLACK HOOD: You really are such a wonderful man.

VICTOR: It’s exactly as you say. Everyone would agree to it.

BLACK HOOD: Correct. You will become a hero in order to save the unsuspecting Blood.

BLACK HOOD: You have an attachment to Blood so you can satisfy that vanity of yours.

VICTOR: Th-that’s not true!

VICTOR: I think of no such things about Blood!

BLACK HOOD: You are tired of what you are right now and you are using him to satisfy your desire for power and prominence.

VICTOR: How preposterous! Would you stop it with your false accusations?

BLACK HOOD: It’s not a bad thing to be dishonest about your true desires.

BLACK HOOD: And even though your desires are bad, there’s no one who will reprimand you for them.

VICTOR: Yes, I’m only being truthful.

VICTOR: In order to avoid the worst situations.

BLACK HOOD: The werewolf isn’t the only evil being. You have to destroy them all.

BLACK HOOD: And the one who defeats evil is a hero.

BLACK HOOD: The only one who’s concerned with that victory is you, Victor!

VICTOR: My name is Victor!

VICTOR: I’ll open his eyes from his faults.

VICTOR: In order to guide him to the right path.

***

GRAHAM: Listen, Blood. Make sure to get to Alvin’s safely this time.

GRAHAM: Don’t ever stray from the path. Promise me.

GRAHAM: And also…

GRAHAM: You can’t take off this red cape no matter what happens, okay?

GRAHAM: Do you understand, Blood?

BLOOD: Y-yeah…

BLOOD: Um… Big Brother…

BLOOD: I’m scared.

GRAHAM: Oh my, what’s this?

GRAHAM: Even though you were so excited the other day? You’re such a weird child.

BLOOD: Big Brother you… love me, don’t you?

GRAHAM: What’s with that suddenly? Of course I do!

GRAHAM: You’re my little brother that I love more than anything else. Even more than my life.

BLOOD: Really…?

GRAHAM: Come now, Alvin’s waiting. Give your brother his good-bye kiss.

GRAHAM: Be careful on your way, okay?

***

BLOOD: The lycoris flowers are blooming so much.

BLOOD: They’re so beautiful! I’ll put some in the basket and give them to Alvin.

RANDOLPH: A red cape…!

RANDOLPH: It’s true then that child is… Why…?!

BLACK HOOD: Why are you so frightened? How is this one different from the others?

RANDOLPH: Shut up, keep quiet!

BLACK HOOD: How many lives have those fangs taken?

BLACK HOOD: It doesn’t matter whether they’re children or women.

RANDOLPH: Yeah, that’s right. It was for survival!

RANDOLPH: I’ll do it all over again in order to live!

BLACK HOOD: It was only a one-night affair.

BLACK HOOD: Saying ‘farewell’ shouldn’t be so difficult, should it?

RANDOLPH: No one understands it! No one!

RANDOLPH: These feelings are illogical!

RANDOLPH: This feeling…! This is the first time that I’ve felt that I wanted to see someone again so badly...!

RANDOLPH: We watched the stars together…

RANDOLPH: We promised to go to a new world together.

BLACK HOOD: Yes. Even those dead eyes of yours are shining brightly just like the stars.

RANDOLPH: That purity and that brightness… I saw real beauty in them.

RANDOLPH: It’s truly a miracle.

BLACK HOOD: No matter how beautiful his soul and body may be, he’s a mere human.

BLACK HOOD: He’s merely just flesh and blood for you to enjoy.

RANDOLPH: Even though other humans may be like that he’s different to me!

BLACK HOOD: That’s right~

BLACK HOOD: Before he gets killed by the hands of others, it’s better for you to do it yourself!

RANDOLPH: Kill him with my own hands?!

RANDOLPH: It’s because he’s important to me that I can’t do that!

RANDOLPH: But… if I leave him like that…

RANDOLPH: He’ll surely live a life worse than hell.

RANDOLPH: Damn it…!

RANDOLPH: What should I…?!

BLACK HOOD: Even if you let Blood run away now, his fate won’t change.

BLACK HOOD: If you don’t get him somebody else will.

BLACK HOOD: A cruel reality is awaiting him.

BLACK HOOD: And even if he returns to his brother, he can never be truly happy now, can he?

BLACK HOOD: Their connection is already broken after all.

RANDOLPH: Yeah…

RANDOLPH: I don’t… have a choice…

BLACK HOOD: Now come, let’s go on ahead. To the despised Alvin’s whereabouts.

***

(Knocking on door)

ALVIN: I had anticipated your arrival, Randolph.

ALVIN: Come and enter.

RANDOLPH: It’s because of this that you’re despised and are isolated.

RANDOLPH: This fortune-telling of yours.

RANDOLPH: So you say that you know everything about everyone?

ALVIN: You think so? I think it’s quite a useful thing, don’t you?

RANDOLPH: I still can’t understand what goes on in your head sometimes.

RANDOLPH: You’re an eerie guy.

ALVIN: How rude. And here I am thinking that we should get along as people hated by almost everyone.

ALVIN: Well, never mind. Have some tea and make yourself feel at home.

ALVIN: Here you go.

ALVIN: Your face says that you think it’s poisoned.

ALVIN: It’s all right. It’s a tea that you’re very fond of.

RANDOLPH: …!

ALVIN: Is it almost time for you to part, I wonder.

RANDOLPH: That’s right. You really do know everything.

ALVIN: For money? It’s necessary, isn’t it?

RANDOLPH: I didn’t do it.

ALVIN: I know that much.

ALVIN: My sweet child is troubled, isn’t he?

ALVIN: “Blood was fond of even someone like me.”

ALVIN: “He gave someone as despised as me something to be happy about.”

ALVIN: How much has he saved you, I wonder.

ALVIN: Blood is too pure to live in a cruel world like this.

ALVIN: On top of being pure, his feelings are sensitive and he’s fragile.

ALVIN: I’m pretty sure that his heart won’t be able to take being betrayed by someone he loves so much.

ALVIN: Oh, how cruel it is!

ALVIN: Being abandoned by their father, and even by his beloved brother.

ALVIN: And to top it off, he’s being targeted by a werewolf.

RANDOLPH: I’m…

ALVIN: I’ll give you my heart. A magician’s heart sells for a high price.

ALVIN: Just one bite of it will be more than enough. You can obtain immense power.

BLACK HOOD: Even without wishing for it, he’s almost about to die.

ALVIN: You don’t have to worry about the fact that my despised existence will disappear.

BLACK HOOD: In order to destroy Alvin’s sins towards Blood and his brother, he’s willing to offer his life.

ALVIN: My life is almost at its end.

ALVIN: At the very least, I want it to be useful to someone.

BLACK HOOD: What are you hesitating for?

BLACK HOOD: Kill Alvin and Red Riding Hood will be in your arms.

BLACK HOOD: Having more prey is ideal, isn’t it?

BLACK HOOD: What’s the matter, oh, cold-hearted werewolf?

BLACK HOOD: Why do you hesitate?

RANDOLPH: …!!!

ALVIN: I am aware of my own fate.

ALVIN: I am predicting that I will be dying soon.

ALVIN: My fortunes have never been wrong. Not once.

ALVIN: My one concern for now is that Blood may be surprised.

BLACK HOOD: Ah, because his one and only ally would be gone.

BLACK HOOD: No one can save Blood anymore.

ALVIN: That child is very kind so I wonder how sad he will be.

ALVIN: I don’t want to hurt him any more than this but…

ALVIN: I’m so sorry, Blood.

BLACK HOOD: Now! Kill him resolutely!

(Door opens, and blood starts dripping)

***

TO BE CONTINUED

#utapri #utapri translations #my translations #lycoris no mori #drama cd #tokioto #oh yeah it's still tagged as tokioto #try and stop me XD #anyway my boys just want to be happy together #is that too much to ask!?!?!?!?!?!?

197 notes · View notes

branlovestowrite · 6 years

Text

Complicating Factors: Chapter 7

This is my WIP that I have been posting over at FanFiction.Net. I am reposting the chapters here as I continue to write the new chapters.

Complicating Factors

Rating: M for language and smut in later chapters

Summary: Emma Swan is a single mother trying to contact her ex and father of her child, Neal Cassidy. While she expected some awkwardness when meeting Neal’s mother, Milah Gold, she never expected the undeniable attraction she feels toward Milah’s younger boyfriend, Killian Jones. No Magic, Modern AU. Captain Swan.

Previous Chapters: Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6

Also on fanfiction.net.

He was going to be there in 30 minutes, and Emma had no idea what to wear. She didn't want to dress too provocative and give him the wrong idea, but she also didn't want to look too matronly. She let out a grunt of frustration. She heard Mary Margaret laugh and say something to Henry before walking into Emma's room.

"I'm sure whatever you wear, you'll look great. Just be comfortable."

"Are you sure you're good with watching Henry? You spend all day with kids. I wouldn't blame you if you avoided them in your off time."

"It's no problem. I am happy to help. David says this is my penance for trying to be a matchmaker, but I will happily pay it. Besides, I'm going to need practice."

"Practice for what? You're a preschool teacher. You've seen it all."

"Yes, but I work with groups of kids. I'm going to need more practice handling a kid one on one."

"Wait...are you saying what I think you're saying? Are you pregnant?"

"Yes!" Mary Margaret said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "You're not supposed to say anything until after the first trimester is over, but you know I can't keep a secret. I made a deal with David that I could tell you, but we are keeping it secret from everyone else for now."

"I'm so happy for you guys!" Emma walked across the room and wrapped her arms around her friend. "When are you due?"

"October 23rd."

"That's my birthday."

"I know! You and Baby Nolan will be birthday buddies. But don't tell Henry yet. Four-year olds are worse at keeping secrets than I am."

Emma gave her friend a warm smile. "Lucky for you, I can keep a secret. I am so very happy for you. Have you thought of any names?"

"Well, if it's a girl, we want to name her Ava Ruth, after our mothers."

"That's beautiful. What about if it's a boy?"

"I like Leopold, after my father, but David says we'd set our son up for a lifetime of ridicule if we name him that."

"I have to agree with your husband."

"Where'd you get Henry's name?"

"A neighbor I used to have, Mr. Perkins. The one who taught me to bake. His first name was Henry. He was one of the first people to really care for me. I looked for him after I got out, but he died about a year after Henry was born."

"Oh Emma. I'm so sorry." Mary Margaret pulled her friend into a comforting embrace.

"It's ok. I mourned for him already. He was a good man, and I have my memories." She pulled away and looked at her bed, which was littered with nearly her entire wardrobe. "For now I need to figure out what to wear for this date. Do you think it's too late to cancel?"

"Don't you dare!" Mary Margaret scolded. She reached into the pile and fished out a pink dress. "This is nice."

"No way," Emma replied. "Mu bought me that dress for a sting she set up. I am not wearing that on a real date."

Emma finally settled on dark jeans, a silk blouse, and her black boots. It was casual, but still dressy enough. Mary Margaret approved, and Henry said "you look pretty mama!" She smiled at her son and looked at the clock. Graham was five minutes late. Despite her earlier reluctance, Emma was mad at him. She grabbed her phone and dialed his number.

"Graham. Where are you?" She paused, listening to his response, "You did? Would his name happen to be Killian? Yes, I know him. No, you don't- Okay. See you soon."

She hung up and immediately her anxiety returned.

"Killian?" Mary Margaret asked. "Isn't that Milah's boyfriend?"

"Ex-boyfriend," Emma corrected. "Did I forget to tell you they broke up?"

"You must have, because I wouldn't have set you up with Graham if I knew Killian was single."

"You too? Why does everyone want me to be with Killian?"

"Because you are obviously attracted to him, which is a rare enough occurrence to make it significant."

"Well, I'm gonna have to get past it. He's living in this building now. If there wasn't reason enough to avoid getting involved with him before, there certainly is now."

"Okay. Just so you you know, you're setting yourself up for failure. Do me a favor and let Graham down easy. He is a good guy."

"Stop that talk. You're not helping." Emma was ready to continue her argument, when she heard a knock on the door. She opened it to see Graham standing there.

"Emma, you look lovely. A thousand apologies for being late."

Emma softened upon hearing his sweet words. "Don't worry about it. You were doing a good deed."

"Hello Mary Margaret. Henry."

Henry turned around and leaned over the back of the couch. He gave Graham a critical look, looking much older than his four years. After a moment of intense silence, he finally spoke. "Do you like boats?"

"Um... I've never given it much thought. I have nothing against them. Just haven't spent much time on them."

"So..." Henry asked. "Do you like them?"

Emma laughed nervously. "Henry, go easy on him."

"Okay mommy," he replied, giving her a toothy grin.

She walked over and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Be good."

"Yes mommy. I love you."

"Love you too kid."

"Have fun!" Mary Margaret said as Emma and Graham walked out of the apartment and headed toward the elevator.

Killian felt more nervous than he had in a long time. Ruby, Emma, and Henry would be arriving within the hour. He'd spent the morning scrubbing the small apartment from top to bottom and rearranging the furniture to suit his liking. This Will fellow liked sleek, modern furnishings. They weren't really Killian's style, but they would serve the purpose.

He set out a few two-liter bottles of soda and a jug of sweet tea he'd found at the grocery store. He knew that sweet tea was not the beverage of choice in the northern part of the US, but he'd become addicted to the stuff when he lived in South Carolina. Milah never liked it. She always said that it was a waste of good tea leaves. Now that he was living on his own, he'd indulged himself and bought a jug. He got out three tall glasses and one plastic cup, picked up especially for the occasion. It was not specifically designed for children, but it had a sailboat on it, and he couldn't help but think of Henry when he saw it. And he figured it wasn't a bad idea for the lad to have a plastic cup, just in case.

He stood in the middle of the kitchen and looked down at his outfit for the tenth time since he'd changed. He was trying very hard to draw a balance between dressy and casual. He'd gone for dark jeans and a black button down shirt. It was more open at the collar than he preferred, mostly due to the fact that he felt overheated. The temperature in the room was comfortable, but his internal temperature spiked because of nerves. He couldn't help but wonder all day, and truly the entire night prior, how Emma's date had gone. Graham seemed like a decent fellow. He feared that Emma would fall for the detective and end all of his own hopes.

He was roused from these musings by a knock at the door. He jumped, looking at the clock and realizing it was already 5:30. He opened the door and found Emma and Henry standing there.

"Killian! I brought my pirate ship. You can be the Captain. Can we play?"

"Hang on Henry," Emma said. "Let's get inside and get settled first." She turned to look at Killian. "I'm sorry we're a bit early. He was so excited about coming over here. If it's too soon, we can go back to our apartment for a bit longer."

"No, no. I am glad to have you both. Although it may be a while before we can eat, depending on when Ruby gets here."

"No problem. I bought snacks," She said, holding up a grocery bag.

"Henry, lad, can you go set up the pirate ship by the couch? I'll help your mother put the food away and be right there."

"Aye aye, captain!" Henry said.

Killian showed Emma to the kitchen and helped her put away the salad, loaf of garlic bread, and bag of frozen mozzarella sticks. He started the oven to heat up the cheese sticks and pulled out a sheet pan, setting it on the counter. He looked up to find Emma standing close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin. He paused for a moment, unable to speak as his eyes searched hers.

"You alright, love?"

She looked nervous and frozen in place. She gestured behind him. "I was going to grab the bag of mozzarella sticks."

"Oh, yes. Of course." He stepped aside and began anxiously scratching behind his ear.

Once the appetizer was in the oven, they moved to the living room to join Henry. Emma sat on the couch while Killian joined Henry on the floor. They were caught up in their story when he heard the kitchen timer go off.

"That's the mozzarella sticks," Emma said. "I'll get them. You guys keep playing."

He heard her in the kitchen, preparing the appetizer. She opened and closed more than a few cabinets and drawers, getting her bearings, but she didn't call out for help. He was glad, as he will still learning where everything was and wasn't sure he'd be of much help. She walked back out and set down a plate with the sticks and a cup of marinara sauce on the coffee table.

"Mommy, can I have a drink?"

"Of course sweetie. Let's go in the kitchen and see what Mr. Killian has."

They retreated back to the kitchen just as there was another knock on the door. "That'll be Ruby," Killian called to them. "I'll get it."

He opened the door and let the other lass in. She was stunningly beautiful, but Killian could only see her as a friend. She burst through the door, filling the room with energy as she brandished an aluminium tray with what he assumed must be the lasagna, along with a square-shaped box.

"Sorry I'm late!" She said in a rush. "Granny hired a new night manager, Dorothy, and she gave me such a hard time about taking the lasagna. Said we were stealing profits. As if Granny doesn't throw out at least one of these every week. I bought a pie to appease her, so we have dessert!"

"Yum!" Emma said, coming from the kitchen. "What kind?"

"Apple," Ruby replied.

Emma turned to Killian. "Do you have ice cream?"

"I don't believe so."

"Well, good thing I always keep some on hand. I'll run down to my apartment and grab it."

"Later, Emma!" Ruby scolded. "Let's catch up now."

They all walked into the kitchen. Henry grabbed his new cup and held it up. "Aunt Ruby! Look at this cool cup!"

"Very nice!" Ruby said. "It's a sail boat. Are there any more cool cups like that?"

"I'm sorry, but no," Killian said. "I saw that while I was at the store and thought Henry might like it, so I picked it up."

"You got this cup special for me?" Henry asked. "He likes boats mommy! I like him better than the guy you had dinner with yesterday."

Emma flushed. "Henry, it's not polite to speak like that."

"Like what?" he asked with a confused expression.

Before Emma could reply, Ruby interjected. "You had a date last night? How do I not know about this?"

"Because I bribed Mrs. Roberts to not say anything."

"Sneaky..." Ruby said. "Tell me about him, who was he?"

"David's new partner, Graham." Emma's eyes flashed nervously to Killian's. "I can tell you more later."

They managed to get the lasagna started, and moved into the living room to eat the mozzarella sticks. Ruby told them more about her encounter with Dorothy.

"She kept stalling me every time I tried to leave. I think she was flirting with me."

"Could be," Emma said. "Do you like her?"

"Honestly? Yes. I've dated other women before, but never seriously. But I could see myself in a relationship with her. Is that crazy? We just met."

"Sometimes you just know," Killian said, without thinking. He looked up to see Emma's eyes. He could almost hear the thoughts in her head, screaming at her to retreat.

She stood up then. "I'm gonna go grab that ice cream."

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Killian, go with her. Henry and I can play pirates while you two work out whatever is going on with you."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Emma said. Killian stood in silent shock.

"Of course you don't," Ruby replied. "But despite whatever crazy thoughts are going through your head, you and Killian need to have a long overdue conversation to address the chemistry between yourselves. So go up to your apartment, have it out, and come back here when you're ready to have a pleasant dinner without all this sexual tension."

"Seshual tension?" Henry asked. "What's that?"

Before Emma could reprimand her friend, Ruby answered Henry. "It's when two grown ups like each other, but are afraid of their feelings."

"That's silly," Henry replied. "If they like each other, they should just be friends."

"Listen to the kid," Ruby said. She turned back to Henry. "Your mommy and Mr. Killian are going to have a grown up talk while you and I play some more pirates."

"Awesome!"

Emma stood in her kitchen. Killian was in the living room. She'd never wanted to run away more in her life than at this moment. She was effectively trapped. Ruby had her son and wouldn't let Emma take him home until she came to some sort of resolution with Killian. Ruby was very perceptive and would see through any attempts to deceive. Emma thought briefly of telling Ruby to go screw herself and taking Henry home, but then she'd have to deal with the fallout of losing her best friend and living in a building with a man who knew she'd rather break a friendship than talk about her feelings for him.

She took a deep breath and walked into the living room. "Would you like to sit down?" She asked, pointing to the couch.

He sat on the end closest to the door, and she occupied the other side. They both sat near the edge, putting as much distance as possible between themselves. The silence was deafening. Killian began scratching behind his ear again, which must be his nervous tick. Just when Emma thought she couldn't take the quiet any longer, he spoke.

"I am attracted to you, Emma."

"Well, I'm not going to lie. I was attracted to you when we first met. But then I found out you were dating Milah, and I tried to get past it. Is that why you broke up with Milah? Because you wanted to be with me?"

"No. She broke up with me because we always fought. And we want different things. I am trying to rediscover myself now that I'm on my own."

His confession struck Emma, and she relaxed a little. She stood momentarily and settled down on the middle of the couch, closer to Killian. "I know what that's like. I had to rebuild my life after I got out of jail."

"How did you do it?"

"I had Henry. And Regina, though it took her and I a while to get to a friendly place. And then Ruby and Mu, and everyone else. I guess it takes time. Friends help."

"I am finding that I don't have many of those."

"Friends? Well, I'll be your friend. You're a nice guy, Killian, and Henry really likes you."

"Just friends?" He asked, turning toward her. One of his eyebrows cocked up nearly to his hairline and his eyes held a playful expression.

Was he actually flirting with her? She felt a traitorous thrill in her heart at the thought. Against her better judgment, she responded. "Please. You couldn't handle it."

"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it," he countered, giving her a challenging look.

She looked at him. He really was incredibly attractive. His eyes were a brilliant blue, contrasting perfectly with his dark hair. His lips looked soft and full, and she couldn't stop herself from wondering how it would feel to run her fingers across his stubble. Without fully realizing what she was doing, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled his body to hers. Their lips collided in a deep kiss. She opened her mouth slightly and his tongue slipped through, gliding along her own. Her head moved and he moved with her, nipping at her lower lip. His hand came up to her head and tangled with the hair at the nape of her neck. She reciprocated, carding her fingers through the hair on the back of his head. They were perched on the edge of the couch, and she kept a tight grip on his shirt collar to keep herself from falling. The kiss was electric. She felt it all over, a warm, tingling feeling. It was better than any kiss she'd ever had. She wanted to be able to kiss him like this forever. At that thought, alarm bells went off in her head, and she pulled away, resting her forehead against his.

"That was..." he began.

She didn't want him to speak and break the spell. She moved to capture his lips again with her own, but froze just millimeters from his mouth. She couldn't do this, no matter how much she wanted it. So, instead, she finished his sentence. "A one-time thing," she said against his mouth. She released his shirt collar and stood up, walking into the kitchen. "Go back to your place. I'll be down in a bit. I just need to compose myself."

"As you wish." She heard him open the front door and exit, shutting it gently behind him.

Emma's emotions came crashing down upon her. As a child, one of her favorite movies had been The Princess Bride. She'd always hoped for someone to say "as you wish" to her the way Westley had to Buttercup. The memory brought tears to her eyes as she replayed Killian's voice saying that very line. It alternated with the lingering feelings from perhaps the best kiss of her life. The attraction she felt for Graham was nothing compared to this. It was overwhelming, all consuming. Every cell in her body called for Killian. She wanted to be with him forever. But the memories of Neal's betrayal also played in her head. As much as she felt pain at the hurt Neal caused her, she knew it would be a thousand-times worse if Killian hurt her.

Fear won the battle among her warring emotions, and she began to harden herself against any further entreaties from Professor Jones.

Killian's head was reeling as he stepped out of Emma's apartment. He had gone from anxious and sad to flirtatious and hopeful in a matter of minutes. The kiss with Emma had been incredible. He could still feel a tingle on his lips. He reached up and softly touched them, letting out a long breath. She was a challenge. She obviously liked him, but feared the prospect of getting involved with him. He ran his fingers through his hair and walked toward the elevator as he agonized over what to do.

He returned to his flat to find Ruby and Henry on the couch, watching some cartoons.

"I hope you don't mind," Ruby said. "I found your Netflix account and put on a show for Henry."

"Not at all," Killian said.

Ruby looked at him quizzically. She stood up from the couch. Henry was engrossed in his show and didn't even register her movement. Ruby grabbed Killian's bicep and pulled him to the kitchen. "What happened? Where's Emma?" She asked, keeping her tone low.

"Nothing. Emma just said she needed a minute and she'd be along shortly."

She gave him a scrutinizing look. "No, there's something you're not saying. I can tell. I know we just met, but trust me, you don't want to hide things from me. I have an uncanny ability to sniff them out."

Her gaze made Killian uncomfortable, and he stared down at the floor. "She kissed me," he said, in nearly a whisper.

The brunette's mouth fell open in a wide gasp, but she quickly recovered. "Let me guess, she freaked out, told you it couldn't happen again, and asked you to go ahead without her?"

"Yes...that's nearly exactly what happened. How did you know?"

"I know Emma. She'll come back in a bit, make up some lame excuse, and take Henry home. She won't stay for dinner."

"I expected as much. I do wish she would talk with me about her fears."

"It takes a lot more to get her to open up. How was the kiss?"

Ruby's frankness startled Killian, but he also found it refreshing. "It was bloody brilliant. I've never felt a connection like that."

"Good. That's good. She'll come around. You have to give her space. Let her figure it out in her own head. But don't disappear, either. She's had enough abandonment."

"So I need to stick around but give her space? That's a bit contradictory."

"I know. She's a tough nut to crack, but she's worth it."

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because Emma never makes her own happiness a priority. She always puts everyone else first. She felt a connection with you the moment she met you, but she's denying it because she thinks she is obligated to. Even though she is loath to admit it, she wants to be with you. I think you could make her happy. I'm pretty good at reading people."

"Thank you, lass." He sighed. "I never thought I could love someone like I loved my Milah, until I met Emma."

"Definitely don't tell her that yet," Ruby laughed.

"Of course," Killian said with a smile.

Emma came back a few minutes later and did just as Ruby predicted. After Emma and Henry left, Ruby helped him prepare two plates for the Swans and they carried them to her flat. He did not linger, just provided her the plates and bid her and her boy goodnight. Afterward, he and Ruby had a pleasant dinner. He quickly found she was becoming a great friend. They parted with a congenial hug.

"See you around, Jones," she said.

"You too Lucas," Killian replied with a smile. He was grateful to have a friend and ally in all this.

On Sunday morning Emma was awakened by a text from what she assumed was Gold's number. It was just an address, nothing additional. She replied back to ask if that was the place for the meeting, but got no reply. She checked it out on the map. It was in the South End neighborhood, which surprised her. She'd expected this meeting to be in a shady part of town, not one of the most expensive places to live in Boston. She shrugged and forwarded the text to Regina. Regina was nervous about this plan, but went along with it. She'd bought a can of pepper spray and insisted Emma take it in case something bad happened. Emma knew how to take care of herself, but she appreciated Regina's concern.

She looked at the clock and decided to go ahead and call Milah to update her. She'd told Milah about the conversation with Gold on Monday, and Milah had readily agreed to come along. Emma dialed the number and waited for an answer.

"Hello?"

"Milah, it's Emma. I got the location from Gold. It's some fancy place over in South End. Does that sound right to you?"

"Yes, he owns a few properties in that neighborhood that he uses as short-term rentals for executives. He's probably got Neal staying in one."

"He owns more than one property in South End? How rich is your ex?"

"Too rich for his own good. But this is a good development. The location is upscale enough that he'll probably want to keep a low profile. I don't think he'll try anything stupid today."

"I'm glad to hear that. We're supposed to be there at 5:00. What time should Henry and I come by to get you?"

"How about 4:00? And we'll take my car."

"I don't mind driving."

"I know, but Neal won't know my car. Your Bug is very notable. Plus, I have a panic button on my key ring, so I can raise the alarm if need be. But I truly don't believe it will come to that.

"Okay," Emma conceded. "We'll see you at 4:00."

Emma and Henry spent the day tidying up and running errands. She willed herself not to think of Killian or the kiss they shared. It was hard, though, because Henry kept talking about how much he liked Killian. They were walking into the building after grocery shopping when they ran into the man himself.

"Swan," he said as soon as he saw them.

"Killian. How are you?"

"Significantly better than when we met in this lobby last week."

Had it only been a week ago? The past few days had been such a whirlwind. "Well, that's good. We need to get these groceries unloaded. I'll see you later?"

"Hang on, let me help." He followed them into the elevator and pressed the button for her floor. As the car began to move, he looked at her. "Can we talk?"

She looked nervously at him. "I don't know. I still have some chores to do, and we've got plans at 4:00."

"It won't take long. Let me help you put your groceries away?"

"Alright." The elevator stopped on her floor and Killian followed her and Henry to their apartment. Henry was being unusually quiet, but Emma put that down to fatigue. She looked at the clock when they got in. It was 2:30. "Henry, go lay down and take a short nap. I don't want you tired and angry when we see your grandma later today."

"Yes mommy," Henry said without any sign of protest. He must really be tired. He went to his room and closed the door. She would go check on him in a minute.

"You've got plans with Milah?" Killian asked.

"We do."

"I'm glad to hear that." He paused, and the tension in the room was palpable.

Despite her better intentions, Emma felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him. She rooted her feet to the ground, determined not to give in. She could take the tension no longer. "Killian..." she began, but he cut her off.

"I am sorry if things between us got awkward. I don't regret anything I said, but I also don't wish to pressure you in any way. I truly appreciate your offer of friendship, and I hope it is still available."

She melted at his words. "It is. I meant what I said about you being a nice guy. I'd love to be your friend." She extended her hand and he took it in a firm shake.

"Thank you," he said as he pulled his hand back. "Well, I will let you get back to your chores. Please give Milah my regards."

"I will."

She was grateful that Killian left then, because her resolve was crumbling. He really was a good man. She was glad she had not acted on her more sensual urges. She hadn't decided if she would tell Milah about the kiss, and a repeat performance would have complicated matters much further.

#cs fanfic #cs fanfics #cs ff #ouat fanfiction #killian jones #emma swan #complicating factors fanfic #milah

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ghost1643 · 4 years

Text

Hogwash-idea

(So since JK Rowling is asking like a trash again, I figured I’d posted the Hogwarts story idea I wrote when I was in middle school baed off of a tumblr idea about a few ideas a read on tumblr, mainly one about a Muslim student at Hogwarts, which happens to be Alma but, I never learned enough about the religion to feel like I could write it even remotely correctly.)

And pleas let me say that I also had plans to add two gay couples (one was two boys, one from Spanish boy from Slithern named Cole and one was from Raven claw, was an African American named Jack) (other couple was to girls, one named Oliva and was from raven claw and one was Abbigail who comes uo later in this rant part) a bisexual boy named Eric from hufflepuff puff ti the group and a trans griffindor girl, name Abbigal, who was supposed to have freckles and always wear pink just b/c she likes it.)

Year one, day zero

It was a normal day at platform 9 3/4. Wizard and muggle parents were hugging their children goodbye before they left. One family had a young eleven year old who was trying to escape his mother's grip.

Graham's mother was hugging him to death while giving him kisses. Each time she would kiss his blushing cheeks red lip stick stain in her lips place. Meanwhile behind his mother, his father was holding back a stiff laugh while his little sister hugged his legs tightly. Meanwhile his grandfather just watched from a distance with a look of disgust on his face as he saw muggles walk by. Each one of these family members had bright blond hair so, it was easy to tell who was related.

"Ma, stop it. You're embarrassing me!" Graham complained. His mother kept hugging him to death. Like always her long blond hair flew in the wind with ever move she took. As for her black dress, it went to the floor, covered her arms completely and had a red belt to it. She also had a grey cape over her back.

Meanwhile his little sister Tulip whipped her running nose on his black pant leg. She was wearing the same perfect red puff dress as always. Her hair was always in perfect curls too. The young six year old girl always found a way to look as cute as possible. Even while crying her eyes out.

"Melissa, we have to let him go. Even his owl is getting impatient." His father chuckled. Graham's mother let another snuffle escape her mouth as she let go of her baby boy. Tulip copied her mother but, ended up hugging her mom's legs instead.

"I know but, I can't help it. It feels like just yesterday I was holding him in my arms and now he's off to Hogwarts." Melissa sobbed looking at her young son. Her dark brown eyes were filled with almost as much tears that were in her daughter's brown eyes. She pushed her hands through her son's blond hair with a sad smile. Graham reached up and held his mothers hand.

"Mom, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. I'm gonna be just fine." Graham smiled. His mother gave him another sad smile before she walked over to her husband. She some how had escaped her daughter's grip. Which was probably why she was back to hugging his legs while crying.

"Tulip, I gotta go." Graham smiled as he messed with his sister's perfect hair. She looked up with big tears in her eyes.

"Don't forget about me." She begged as she finally let go.

"How can I forget my favourite flower?" Graham asked as he put his left hand back on his suit cases. Meanwhile the snowy owl that had been walking back in forth on it's cage was now trying to find a way out. The cage began rocking back and forth while sitting on top of his suit cases.

Graham just sighed as he began to walk into a large train that had just pulled up to the station. Meanwhile his crying mother and sister were hugging his father to death. Yet, his grandfather raced over and pulled him into a hug. Graham froze before hugged him back. His grandfather usually was never like this. Not even at his great uncles funeral.

"Stay away from mudbloods. They don't deserve to be with us today." His grandfather whispered in his ear. Graham sighed. Wizards born by normal non magic users were known as his grandfather's worst enemy. In fact, there were rumours going around his home that he killed two muggle children at a beach and was never charged.

Graham preyed that those weren't true. Yet, he knew there was a chance that this happened. After all his grandfather talked about being a death eater at house parties at their place. Were they true? Only his grandfather knew.

"I will." Graham lied. His grandfather pulled away with a Saturn smile on his face.

"Good." His grandfather stated as a loud whistle rung out from the train behind them. Quickly he turned his back and hurried into the train. A few more children ran in after him. You could hear them laughing an stalking with each other. Then everyone ran to the windows as the train began moving.

Graham hung out an opened window. His little sister, mother and father were waving goodbye from where they stood. That is until his sister as well as his mother chased the train with tear running down their faces. He waved goodbye whole yelling,

"See you all this Christmas!"

The he turned around to see six children staring at him. Quickly they all turned around but, he knew why they were staring.

(Sorry text is stuck like this for some reason now)

He was apparently related to a death eater. It was like a sort of disease at this school. Everyone hated them. They did kill a lot of people though. Like thousands of non-magic users and magic users. Thousands of families were ripped apart before the dark lords defeat in 1999. Yet, it was 2017 and no was one was over it. No one would ever be over it. There were even rumours of the dark lords child being around. So, every child was ready to turn on a slitherin or others if needed.

Graham quickly ran down a hallway looking for an open compartment. The first one he saw was full of ravenclaw second years. As for the second one, it was full of fifth slitherins. Now the third was full of fourth year griffindors. Then as you could guess, the fifth was full of third year hufflepuffs. After that when ever he would look in a compartment someone would close the door quickly. That is until, he entered a compartment with a brown haired girl in current world muggle clothing.

"Is this seat taken?" He asked. The young girl's bright brown eyes drifted from the window to him. Looking in them made him think of the best hot chocolate ever. Her eyes also made his heart speed up a bit.

"Nope. It probably won't be either unless you sit in it." She stated. Her voice was high pitched but, had a sort of tone that made it sound like she was singing a beautiful medley. It also lacked the same accent that everyone around him spoke. This some how made her more unique in his eye.

Graham sat down next to the strange girl. She was wearing a weird hoodie that was rainbow coloured with a symbols that read "nike". Graham assumed that 'Nike' was some sort of secret muggle club. She also appeared to be wearing long blue pants with rips in them. Which also look a little weird to him. There was also a golden heart necklace around her neck.

"I'm Graham by the way." He smiled as he extended his hand. A tiny cute smile spread across her large pink lips.

"I'm Melody. And if you don't mind me asking, what the fresh heck are you wearing?" She asked looking at his outfit. Graham was wearing a green fancy robe that had a black gem stone right under his neck. He kinda looked like he was a vampire or something. Or at least to Melody it did. Maybe she should stop watching monster movies with her family.

"It's a robe. A very fancy expensive one. Plus, I wanted to know what are you wearing?" He asked.

"This is common non-mag, I mean muggle clothes. What? Never seen a muggle born before?" Melody asked with a smirk. Wait, this girl was a muggle born? He had never seen one this up close before. Especially one who knew about the wizarding world.

"Your a muggle born? What's life like for you? No wait, is it true you have some sort of machine to wash dishes for you that can't use magic? Is it also true you have a machine to wash clothes? Is it true that ghost can talk to muggle too? What's your house like? I bet it's tiny! Oh do you have a pet? Not like a magic pet but, a normal pet that cane be handled by muggles. Is it true that you can adopt a large dog and have it be a hard dog for you? What's this LGBTQ I heard about?" Graham asked over 21 questions after these. Melody just felt her face heat up a bit until he stopped talking. After words a tiny bit of laughter filled the room. It was one of the prettiest things Graham had ever heard.

"You've never meet a muggle or muggle born before have you?" She asked. Graham shook his head no. With a smile she began to explain all of these things as the train continued down the track.

Eventually the two twelve year olds bought candies. Oka, Graham went to guy the candies then heard Melody stomach rumble. Then he found out she didn't have any money, just a couple sandwiches. Which she searched for and couldn't find. So he bought candies for them to split. What kinds? Well he got chocolate frogs, jelly slugs, Bertie Bott's every flavour jelly beans, acid pops, ice mice and fizzing whizbees. All of which Melody loved.

The two began joking around while, eating wizard candy until Graham put a single yellow jelly in his mouth. Then he had a look of disgust fell across his face. Quickly he stuck his younger out and tried to look for a place to spit it out. He raced around their art until a laughing Melody opened a window. He spit that out the window before she could say anything.

"W-what flavour was that?" Melody asked through a lot of laughter. Graham whipped his tongue on his hand once. Then he realized that the taste was still there. So he did it again. And again. And again. He ended up doing this 15 times before the taste was gone. While he did this Melody continued to laugh her butt off.

"Vomit. It was vomit flavoured." Graham stated. Melody laughed before saying one thing.

"This is going to be the best school ever."

~time skip~

The large sorting hat was placed on top of Melody's long brown hair. She looked as nervous as everyone else did. Yet, she didn't whisper which house she wanted to be in or not be in like everyone else now a days. Nope. She just kept whispering,

"Please let me have friends where ever I go for once."

She just kept repeating it over again and again. That is until five seconds later when everyone heard it say something. Which was...

"Hufflepuff."

Graham felt his face fall from where he was sitting. He had kinds hoped that Melody got sorted into Slytherin with him. Not so she could be the fist muggle born in there. Nope. So he could be friends with a non rich kid. Yet, this didn't mean they still couldn't talk.

Soon Graham found him self sleepily walking to the dungeon to the Slytherin dorm room. He rubbed the sleep out of his blue eyes as the people around him were laughing and talking. They had tried to avoid him. These kids seemed to hate him too. Who knows why!

"This year the password is mudblood." The perfect let out a crew smiled. Graham felt his face fall. He wasn't going to say that word daily just to go in his room. Nope! He would rather sleep in the hallway. So would two other Slytherin. Which they would end up doing in exact two days.

~~~~~~~…~💜~~~~~

Year one, day one

Character based on this head canon.

Graham could feel his eyes bulge out of his head as he saw a fimilar brunette race across the room to the ravenclaw dining table. Students were supposed to sit with their houses while eating. Not other houses. Yet, he soon realized she was talking to a girl with olive skin wearing a blue scarf over her head. The young girl she was talking to was sitting all alone at the end of the table. Which was probably why Melody was able to get to that seat quickly.

The two girl's laughed a bit as the scarf girl ate vegetables. Which seemed to be the only thing on her plate. The scarf girl's brown eyes seemed to be filled with as much joy as ever as she seemed to tell a joke. He only assumed it was a joke since it made Melody laugh so hard she snorted.

Then they seemed to talk about something else. Something Melody said made the scarf girl look that way. Her dark brown eyes were confused before she turned to Melody. Graham's face heated up as he saw this scarf girl saying something to her while pointing her long olive fingers at him. Melody's brown eyes flew over to him. A large smile spread across her face as she waved him over. Meanwhile scarf girl giggled a bit.

Graham looked to his left. Then his right. Afterwords the large table where the teachers ate. Luckily the teachers were all to gust talking to notice the hufflepuff sitting with a ravenclaw. Then there was also the fact that no one at this table would ever listen to him. He was really bored at this table anyways.

So he made a mad dash over to that table. Somehow he got over to the seat in front of the two girl's without being seen. Both girl's giggled a bit seeing the look of fear on his face. Plus his hair was a mess. Quickly he ran his hand through his hair before smiling back. Hopefully it was back to normal.

"Hi. I'm Graham." He smiled. The scarf girl giggled the same time Melody laughed. They both had large smiles on their face.

"Graham this is my friend, Almas." Melody smiled. Graham smiled as he extended a hand to her.

"It's nice to meet you Graham. Melody talks about you a lot." Alma smiled. She had a accent he had heard before. It was a nice accent. A beautiful one but, not as beautiful as Melody's voice all together.

"Nice go meet you Almas." Graham smiled. Almas looked at him for a moment before a large smile spread across her face.

"You know, you are unlike any other Slytherin I meet here so far." Almas stated as she ate a fork of vegetables. Graham sighed. That would make sense. Other Slitherns weren't exactly the make friends kind of people. They preferred to stay together like a wolf pack so that no one would judge them. It seemed to be the only thing anyone did any more.

"I know, I am the most handsome boy in the house." Graham smiled leaning back in his seat and holding his leg in the air in a bit. All while making something called 'duck lips' that Melody said models in the muggle world used. Both girl's giggled while looking at each other.

"I don't know about that." Almas smiled. Graham sat up straight before putting on a a fake pouting look on his face. This just made both girl's giggle again. Which in Graham's defence was his plan.

"but, you're the only one who has actually talked to me in your house and mine." Almas sighed. Graham could feel his face scrunch up. No one had talked to her? Why? She looked like any other kid here. So, why had no one talked to her yet?

"Like I said Almas, if you want I could always make them talk to you." Melody stated looking at her. Almas sighed.

"I know you can but, I still I just want one person in this house to talk to me on their own will. Not because they're forced to be my potions partner." Almas stated again.

"How many times do I have to tell you, that's not the reasons I talked to you for." Melody sighed. Graham looked at Almas again. Why would no one talk to her?

"If it helps, Melody talks to everyone. She likes everyone." Graham explained. Almas's eyes lit up as a tiny smile spread across her face. Meanwhile Graham was now frowning. Did she really think Melody didn't like her?

"I would never have suspected that." Almas smirked as she ate another bite of her supper. Melody rolled her eyes.

"I told you. Now, let's get back to the topic we were talking about before hand. Graham?" Melody asked. Graham jumped a bit hearing Melody say his name. Almas now had a larger smile on her face. Almost as if she knew something was there. Something that Melody wouldn't admit was ever there.

"Yeah?" Graham asked.

"Would you tell Almas that anime isn't all blood and guts! She's only heard of one and now she think all anime are bloody!" Melody complained throwing her hands up in the air. Graham stared at her for a moment.

"What the bloody hell is anime?" Graham asked. Melody's jaw dropped.

"You both have much to learn my apprentices. So much to learn." Melody explained.

#reblogs welcome #hogwarts #harrypotter verse #gay right #writing prompt #my writing #moregaypeopleshouldbeinhowarts #everyoneshiuldbeinhogwarts #dont matter who you are #we are all magic here #writing

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yeahwehadatime · 7 years

Text

Letter to My Younger Self - Noel & Julian

What would you say to your 16-year-old self if you could go back in time?

Noel Fielding - surreal comedian, 38

20-26 February 2012, by Jane Graham {x}

I was obsessed with football when I was 16. I was skillful winger and plating regular semi-pro. I hated school, except drawing, so I thought I’d either go to art school or become a footballer. I looked like a girl. I had long blonde hair and was very skinny. I remember being in a pub with my mate when I was at college and a woman came up to him and asked if he’d like to buy a rose for his girlfriend. I was furious.

I was definitely a late developer. But I think that’s quite good. There were boys in my year who looked like big massive men and they went out with grown-up women. They seemed to peak when they were 15. But you see then now and the look much older. You have all the time in the world to grow up. I don’t think you should rush it. it breaks my heart seeing kids at 11 these days, all grown up – is that it then, childhood’s over in 10 years?

If I met the teenage me now and someone told me he’d go on to do stand-up comedy and be quite outgoing and be on telly, I’d think, no way. I was quite sweet but I was very shy. And I didn’t look cool – I wore some bad chavvy clothes and had a terrible wedge haircut. But I think I’d see a glimmer of hope in that boy’s eyes, a sign of the art student, the beads and the strange ponchos to come.

The first time I did stand-up I was terrified. I did some performance art at college where I dressed up as Jesus, jumped off a big cross and danced like Mick Jagger. I had a water pistol with holy water in it. That went well so I booked some real gigs, but I constantly worried my stuff wouldn’t work. In those early days of stand-up I made myself ill worrying. I got hepatitis, which is made worse by stress. I’d do a spate of gigs and knock myself back and end up on the sofa for six months.

When I met Julian [Barratt, Fielding’s partner in The Mighty Boosh] it felt a bit like meeting a soul mate. My friends had told me I’d love him. They said he was a bit crazy and jazzy and he had no jokes. I thought he was amazing. I went up to him and said: “I’m just like you!” I think he just thought I was some weird kid but a couple of years later, of course, we were working together. Somehow out chemistry was there from the beginning.

I came from a working class background and I wasn’t very academic so I always thought everyone else knew more than me. I’d tell my younger self not to worry about that – no one knows what they’re doing. I think there’s a little bit of an attitude in some working class areas – “What, you’re going to go off and be a comedian are you, mate?” I’d tell the younger me not to listen to anyone lese. Take some risks – you’ve only got one life and it goes faster and faster.

If I could relive one day it would be the day I got into Croydon Art College. I didn’t get in at first, I was on the reserve list. I was hanging round with other people who didn’t have jobs and didn’t know what hey were going to do. Then I got a call telling me someone had dropped out and I had got into college. It was like a tiny door opening, an escape, and I thought – yes!

Julian Barratt - comedian and actor, 48

27 April 2017, by Jane Graham {x}

At 16 I was into jazz fusion. Not even jazz, just jazz fusion. Rock instruments played like jazz. Really not fashionable in any way. People like Weather Report, Jack Pastorius. My dad was bang into it, so I thought it was normal. Until I played some to my mates. Then when I saw their reaction, it became my dirty secret. I could play guitar pretty well. Or pretty fast anyway. Me and my mate had duels, trying to outspeed each other to become the fastest guitarist in Yorkshire. That was all that mattered to me.

One of my first pieces of advice to the teenage me would be not to go with the white Whitesnake-style suit for his first live gig. Though it did have the benefit of disguising my dandruff. I got into heavy metal because you could legitimately play solos. Van Halen was a big influence. At my first live gig I wore a white suit and I had long hair, quite curly but not much of it, quite thin hair, all round the front, parted just behind, with just a sprinkling of dandruff. And I played a lot of long, fast guitar solos. It wasn’t a very good look. And it didn’t get me any girls.

I was obsessed with particular girls, a feeling often unrequited needless to say. I remember a field geography trip to the Isle of Arran, when I was so in love with this incredible goth girl, Katie Kinaid. She was really into rocks. Not rock, geology. She didn’t notice me. But I was besotted. I just thought about her all the time, hoping for a glance. I was a late starter, quite naïve. Later on, I could see how being a comedian did help in that area. When you’re funny people sort of feel you must be nice, or at least not frightening.

I tried to leave home at 17 to become a jazz guitarist. We went to stay with a friend of a friend’s uncle but we came back after three days. We thought we’d make inroads into the jazz scene in London – we’d read biographies about guys who got gigs at Ronnie Scott’s and got spotted and immediately taken into someone’s band. So we told our parents we were leaving home. They gave us two days and we lasted three, so we outdid expectations.

If I met teenage Julian now, I’d see this shy person, with long hair, into odd music. But he is also becoming interested in comedy. I found it quite magical, finding people who made me laugh, thinking about how they did it. I remember seeing Vic and Bob and thinking, ah yes, that’s just what my mates do, that absurd humour, making an in-joke a public joke. Controversially, I quite like Bernard Manning. He had this particular kind of Northern delivery and timing. And when the jokes weren’t horribly racist, they were so funny. I mean, my grandad was a racist. You can’t do anything about these people, they’re from a different time. I remember Bernard Manning was shown a clip of The Mighty Boosh on a TV show, which was a great honour in a way. He said: “These two don’t have a fucking clue. As funny as a burning orphanage.” He had a real way with radical imagery.

I always hoped I could do comedy. I was never like Noel [Fielding] or Lee Mack, who are just funny all the time. No one ever said to me, you should be a comedian mate. But I watched a lot of stand-up at uni – people like Mark Lamarr, Sean Hughes, Eddie Izzard, just standing on a stage doing these phenomenal routines. And I could see how you could do it. So I started doing it myself, and I was so shocked when it worked. I remember one time I completely forgot what I was about to say, and I just ran out of the venue. There was a big lake in front of me and I thought about just running into it. Then the manager came out after me and said: “Get back in there, it’s going well.” So I went back. I suppose that was a big turning point for me.

I’m looking at a big poster of myself now and I know my 16-year-old self would see that and think, what is going on there? He would be amazed that people actually like what I do. When Noel and I started gigging together and found people were really enjoying it, it was such a thrill. It was a validation of what felt like a long process of growing up, coming up against all these difficulties if you’re shy and you have all these dreams and thoughts you can’t communicate. It was very exciting to finally find a way to express myself, and seeing people enjoying that. I suppose I’m interested in communicating a pretentious, pompous person a lot of the time, and I have to recognise there is that in me. I did a few serious things before I got into comedy, which make me shudder now. I remember having my mate film me, all shadowy, doing performance poetry. My goodness.

All the clichés about becoming a dad changing your life are true. When you don’t have kids and think about having this little creature to look after, you worry about it, you panic. But you just can’t imagine the amount of love you’ll have for these little things. You still worry but there’s such joy in it. I don’t tend to watch my own stuff, that’s a bit creepy. But when I watched The Boosh with my kids, it was like discovering it for the first time. I saw that we were making a childlike universe where you could be silly and go on adventures. Like Mr Benn. Lots of people think Noel and I just took lots of drugs and did whatever came to mind but we took it very seriously and worked very hard on it. I had this feeling that it paid off when I saw my kids enjoying it. ’Cos my other half, Julia [Davis, of Nighty Night, Hunderby, Psychobitches] – her shows are not appropriate for children at all.

If I could go to any time in my life I would just be swimming in the ocean in Majorca with my nine-year-old twins. That is it for me. I just love that. The thing about the media, the shows, the films… It does feel great when it works. But there’s an anxiety too. I don’t know about that stuff. It’s very exciting but it’s not what you have when you’re just floating about in the sea with your kids. That’s as good as it gets.

#noel fielding #julian barratt #THE BIG ISSUE #letter to my younger self #full interview #the link in noel's goes to boysandvoodoo's posting of the scanned copy - I didn't want to repost #the link in Julian's goes to the website for the interview - if anyone has scanned the hard copy plmk #sometimes we lose articles and i'd just like to work on helping us archive things so we can find them later

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unify-my-universe · 7 years

Text

More Mikey goodness in mine story...

Michael started to laugh. Obviously he thought Penny was joking.

“I think you’ve been watching too much Doctor Who darling, what do you mean you’re from the future? You’re 6 years younger than me!”

“It’s probably best to start from the beginning. You see I hated my life before, my parents didn’t give a shit about me, I had no friends and I wasn’t exactly getting acting jobs left, right and centre. The only thing that kept me going was watching Monty Python, you guys made me laugh and made me think is life really that bad? I begged to be taken back to the 70s, become friends with you guys then I’d be happy. The Doctor answered my call, yes The Doctor. He said he could take me back to 1974 during the filming of The Holy Grail and I could be friends with you guys. He knew of my crush for you but you see in my world in 1974 you’re married with children and I was told by The Doctor that I couldn’t jeopardise that otherwise it could affect events in the future. I also couldn’t tell you guys what was going to happen in your futures. However things went wrong…”

Penny was now in the TARDIS with The Doctor and his current companion Nardole. Her and The Doctor were discussing their favourite Monty Python sketches. Nardole had been instructed to keep his finger on a button. Trouble was, he’d been stuck like this for at least half an hour.

He felt like he had been forgotten by The Doctor and Penny.

“Hello Doctor?”

“Yes Nardole what is it?”

“Well you instructed me sir to keep my finger on this button, so can I let go now?”

“Are you still doing that? Should have told you 10 minutes ago to let go!”

Nardole let go of the button and the TARDIS started to make a funny noise. It jolted all over the place.

“You see The Doctor discovered that we had landed in an alternative 1974 universe. He found out that you were still single so I could become closer to you but couldn’t tell you about your future. So the TARDIS was stuck for a while till The Doctor managed to fix it. He gave me the choice of whether I wanted to stay in this universe or try to get back to my version of 1974. I said I wanted to stay here. He wanted to make sure that I really wanted to stay here as once I was here I couldn’t go back. I’d never see my parents again. I said there was nothing to keep me in the present so I’ve been here for about eight months or so, I think.”

Michael listened intently to everything she was saying. Penny wasn’t sure whether he believed her or not. Then she knew the proof she could provide.

“But your birth certificate and qualifications they say you were born 1948 and you graduated in 1970!”

“Yeah The Doctor forged the certificates, so I’d blend in. I still have the originals.”

She rushed into her bedroom and reached for all her certificates.

She passed them to Michael. It confirmed what she was saying. Her birth certificate said she was born on 20th September 1991 and that she’d graduated from university in 2011. How was this even possible? The fact that Penny had lied to him about this hurt him, the anger built up inside him.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before Penelope? Why wait till the night before our wedding to come clean?”

“I didn’t think you’d believe me for one. I was scared you wouldn’t want to be with someone who is technically 48 years younger than you.”

“I need to think. I’m going out.”

Michael grabbed his car keys and coat. Penny was worried, he wasn’t going to leave her was he?

“Michael don’t.”

“Please just let me process this. I’ve got to go out anyway.”

Michael slammed the door shut. Penny collapsed on the floor in tears. She’d lost him. The only man she ever wanted. Why didn’t she just tell him from the start? She’d never seen Michael like that before. He was so angry and hurt.

Michael was driving to London with tears in his eyes. He loved Penelope so much but how could she lie to him about this? He supposed she was right about her worrying that he wouldn’t believe her, it was very difficult for him to take in.

Yes he’d watched Doctor Who but that was fiction! All this talk about parallel universes was just theory! But he’d seen the proof. It had been right in front of him! Still he was looking forward to seeing the Pythons as they would cheer him up!

Of course he still wanted to marry Penelope, he just needed some space. He didn’t want to get angry with her.

Penny had been crying for about an hour now. What if he didn’t come back? Then the phone rang. It was Carol.

“Hello?” said Penny as she sniffed loudly.

“Hi Penny it’s Carol. Are you alright?”

“No not really. Me and Michael have fallen out and he stormed out the flat. What if he doesn’t come back?”

“Oh Penny, I’m sure he’ll come back. He’s gone to meet the guys for a sort of stag do hasn’t he?”

“Yes but I’m worried he’ll stay there and not come back. I can’t lose him, I love him so much.”

Penny started crying again.

“Oh don’t worry, Michael does tend to go off somewhere when he’s annoyed or upset, it’s because he doesn’t want to lose his temper with you. Do you fancy going out somewhere? Might cheer you up a bit?”

“Yes I’d like that.”

“Good, now you go and get ready and I’ll see you in about a couple of hours or so?”

Meanwhile Michael had arrived in London, he had no idea what the Pythons had got in store for him.

He soon found out that they hadn’t hired a stripper but instead they subjected Michael to a strip tease, well up to their underwear. It was like something out of one of their sketches. It was safe to say Michael would not be able to get the image out of his head…

Carol had decided to take Penny to a cocktail bar which made Penny take her mind off Michael for a while. Carol said that there was a surprise back at the flat for her and when she came back there were a couple of people there. She recognised Connie but not the other woman.

The woman reminded her of Michael. Then she realised that the woman of course was his mother. She came over to Penny.

“Penelope, wonderful to meet you at last! You don’t mind me calling you Penelope do you?”

“Well Michael calls me Penelope so I’m used to it by now! So you’re Michael’s mother?”

“Yes I am and I have to say he’s very lucky to have a girl like you! Oh he wouldn’t stop praising you when he spoke to me!”

“Really?”

“Of course, he’s always been very shy when it comes to girls so I’m pleased he’s finally found someone!”

Mary Palin and Penny chatted for a while, with Penny telling her about her love of history and her job at the library whereas Mary was telling her about what Michael used to be like when he was little. She even showed Penny some old photographs of him. It seemed Michael was a cutie even when he was little but that was no surprise to her.

The Pythons on the other hand had ordered a takeaway and were reminiscing about old times.

“So you sure you don’t want to film this series with us John?” said Eric.

“My mind’s made up. I told you, I feel that we’re just using old material and changing it slightly. I can’t keep doing Python the rest of my life.”

“He’s right you know, we can’t keep doing Python forever. We’ll take a few years off, spend more time with our families, probably do us the world of good!” said Terry J.

Michael was quiet. He was worried about Penelope. She must be so upset. Still by the time he’d get back, it would have given him time to get his head around it a bit more.

“Mike you alright? You’ve been a bit quiet tonight.” Said Terry G.

“Oh no I’m just thinking about Penelope.”

“Penny eh? Thinking about taking her to bed tomorrow are you?” said Graham.

The guys started teasing him about him consummating the marriage tomorrow. That was when he started making his excuses to go back as he didn’t want Penny to be on her own for much longer.

Connie had told Penny that things had slightly improved between her and John and that they were working through their problems for their daughter’s sake. Penny was happy for her because it meant that John was less likely to do something stupid.

They soon said their goodbyes and left Penny on her own. She hoped Michael would be back soon.

Then before she knew it, the flat door opened and there was Michael standing there. Penny was sat on the sofa, she had been crying some more so the mascara was all under her eyes. They were also red raw.

“Can we talk?” said Michael.

“Sure.”

He sat next to her on the sofa but not as close as he usually was.

“So what you’re telling me that there are different alternative universes and in your world in this year I’m already married with two children?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

“Michael I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“I get that you were worried I’d think you’d gone mad but you should have trusted me. If you’d have told me earlier I’d have had a few more days to wrap my head around it. But you wait till the day before our wedding, why Penelope?”

“I was scared. I was scared of losing you. You’re the most perfect man in the world and I thought you were so out of my league then I got the chance to go back in time and meet you. I didn’t think you’d ever fall for me, I mean look at me. Do you know how hard it is for me not to tell you about your future? I know so much and I can’t even tell you. Every day is a struggle not to spill secrets. I’m—I’m so sorry Michael.”

She burst into tears. Michael grasped her by the chin.

“Please don’t cry. It doesn’t bother me that you’re 48 years younger than me in reality, the thing that made me cross is that you didn’t tell me earlier. I love you so much and I told you, that you would never be alone. I keep my promises.”

He wiped the tears from her eyes and kissed her slowly.

“I love you.” Said Penny.

“I know.”

Penny blew her nose into a tissue and smiled. All was well.

“So how was your night with the Pythons?”

“Oh a night to remember! How about you love?”

“Well had a few drinks with Carol, she came back with me to the flat and she’d arranged Connie and your mother to come over for a sort of tame hen night?”

“Bloody hell my mother? I bet she’s been telling you some right embarrassing stories!”

“No they were really sweet and she showed me some pictures of you when you were little. Weren’t you a little cutie?”

She squeezed his dimples.

“Well as long as she likes you, that’s the main thing!”

“I think she does, she’s just glad you’ve finally found someone!”

“Yes that’s true! Penelope I know you can’t go into detail about future events but I did notice you were a bit rusty driving your car, are cars a lot more advanced in the future?”

“Yes they are and you have to wear your seatbelt now! So driving is a lot safer!”

“Well that’s good, so what year are you actually from?”

“2016.”

“Wow very far in the future, don’t worry I won’t pester you about what the future has in store for me, the future is meant for the future after all!”

She was relieved that Michael was so understanding. Well she didn’t expect him to understand the physics behind how she managed to time travel and end up in a parallel universe. However the main thing was, he accepted it.

“Hadn’t we better go to bed? Busy day tomorrow and all…” said Penny.

“Mm I agree love. God I can’t wait for you to be my wife tomorrow…”

Penny slept a lot better this time, as she had been completely honest about herself. Though she hated the fact she couldn’t tell Michael about what the future had in store for him. She was happy that she was going to be part of his future, she loved his travel programmes and couldn’t wait to support him during that time.

Penny and Michael set off early to London, as that was where they were going to get married. Luckily the wedding was in the afternoon! Michael dropped Penny off at Carol’s house so she could get ready there. Michael put his suit on at his house.

Carol helped Penny with her makeup and curled her hair at the ends, she even helped her into her dress! The shoes Penny had chosen were white with a slight heel as she was known to be accident prone.

“How you feeling Penny?”

“Nervous! Especially when Michael is being so secretive about our honeymoon!”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about that! I know that where Michael is taking you, you’ll just love it!”

“Hm okay then!”

The wedding was a quiet affair, only Michael’s family and friends were the guests but that was okay for her.

The wedding march started and Michael turned round and saw Penny looking absolutely stunning. She really was the most beautiful woman in the world and she was going to be his wife!

When Penny was stood next to Michael, he held her hand and whispered in her ear.

“God you look so beautiful.”

Penny saw how handsome Michael looked and she finally noticed he’d had his hair cut! Only a trim but she loved Michael’s hair that length anyway.

“And you look very handsome!”

“Do you Michael Edward take Penelope Lucy to be your lawful wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“Do you Penelope Lucy take Michael Edward to be your lawful wedded husband?”

“I do.”

Michael held her face and kissed her deeply. Penny couldn’t believe it, she was THE Mrs Palin! None of it felt real but as soon as she saw that ring on her finger, it was confirmed.

The reception was a little messy with plenty of alcohol! Penny found herself chatting mostly to Michael’s mother and father. His father was very quiet so only asked Penny a few questions about herself.

Michael was busy chatting to the other Pythons until the dreaded wedding dance came up. Problem was, Penny didn’t know the song at all and it seemed everyone knew it!

Michael held Penny by the waist and smiled. He could tell a mile off Penny didn’t know the song!

“I’m guessing you’re not familiar with the song?” Michael whispered in her ear.

“No, it’s not really a song that’s played at wedding receptions these days!”

“Don’t worry love just follow my lead!”

Penny smiled to herself. Michael had unintentionally quoted some lyrics off a song by Ed Sheeran, Shape of You.

She’d have much preferred dancing to Perfect by Ed Sheeran but this was the 1970s! Ed Sheeran wasn’t even born yet! Ed was in fact Penny’s age, shame she couldn’t tell Michael about his music as she thought it would be the kind of music he liked.

The reception finished and they headed back to Michael’s house. Strangely enough it was the same house that in her time he lived with Helen and his three children.

“Welcome home Mrs Palin!”

Michael picked her up and carried her over the threshold. It was a wonderful feeling. She’d never seen Michael’s house from the inside before but it was everything that she expected. Tidy with lots of books!

“God that’s wonderful to hear you say that!”

“Oh I bet, so what do you think of your new home?”

“Very nice! And very clean, you really are self-sufficient!”

“Well I’m a man of many talents! Right we’d better get changed!”

He kissed Penny on the cheek then ran upstairs. She followed suit.

It seemed that this was going to be their bedroom, it was very large with a king size bed and a spacious wardrobe. It was just perfect.

Michael and Penny after getting changed into their normal clothes and Michael sobering up with drinking plenty of water set off to Devon.

The Caravan Park was very nice, not too far from the beach and plenty of entertainment for children. The weather was warm but not as warm as it would have been if they were in another country. They spent a lot of time taking romantic walks on the beach, going on walks through the countryside and swimming in the indoor pool. Michael was quite a good swimmer and he loved to see Penny in her bikini!

The day after they returned to London, they were off somewhere else. All Penny knew about this next destination was that it was very romantic. So it was a tossup between Paris and Italy.

The taxi pulled up to take them to Heathrow Airport. Michael locked the house and put their luggage in the boot.

After checking in, Penny looked at the scheduled flights, she saw the only flight that was flying the time Michael had told her was Rome.

“We’re going to Rome?”

“Told you we were going somewhere romantic!”

As expected on the night of their wedding Penny and Michael finally gave into their temptations and boy did it feel wonderful!

They were lying in bed together, Michael had his arm around her and was stroking her shoulder.

“Worth the wait?” said Michael.

“Oh god yes!”

She knew she was wise to trust Michael on planning their honeymoon!

Rome was a lot warmer than Devon which meant they could get a good tan! They enjoyed visiting historical places like The Colosseum, The Roman Baths and the beautiful scenery. Naturally they sampled many cocktails too. They even managed to go on a few walks in the countryside and on the beach.

It was on one of their beach walks that Michael pressed Penny for more information about her origins.

“What was it like growing up in the 90s? Was it very different from my childhood in the 40s and 50s?”

“I was very lucky in the sense that I didn’t live through a war. I don’t imagine you remember much about the war, I mean you were only 2 when it ended but I know rationing went on for a long time after the war, I think it was abolished 1954? I was always well fed, I just wasn’t shown love. I was from the era where kids didn’t play outside as much, they were stuck inside watching TV.”

“No I don’t remember much of the war but yes I do remember the rationing. You seem to know a lot about the war, did you learn about it at school?”

“Yes I learn about The First and Second World War at university. Seems you were right about people at university learning about the Two World Wars in the future.”

“Well it’s a useful thing to learn about. It’s a shame that children don’t play out as much, I want my children to play outside, appreciate nature and the countryside.”

Penny put her hand on top of his and smiled.

“Don’t worry our children will not be stuck inside watching TV!”

Penny felt like telling Michael about the development of game consoles like The Gameboy and Play Station 1 but she knew once she started talking about the future, she wouldn’t be able to stop. The Doctor’s warning echoed in her mind.

“If you tell Michael about the future, I’ll know and I will find a way to get back to this universe and take you back to your time.”

It seemed the romantic ambiance that Rome glowed certainly had an effect on their, ahem bedroom performance.

The honeymoon went so fast that before they knew it, Penny was back at work and Michael had started filming Series 4 of Flying Circus. Penny luckily had managed to ask for a transfer to work at a university library in London which allowed her to do a qualification paid by the university to become a librarian.

Sadly their busy schedules meant that Penny and Michael didn’t see each other that much during the day. However Penny made a few cameos in Python! She soon realised that being a television actress wasn’t her scene, as she only wanted to work alongside Michael and the gang. She wanted to go back to her university days, being on the stage. She missed performing on stage.

Therefore whenever Michael was busy at the weekend filming Python, Penny took part in performances at small theatres. She knew that her true love was history and working in a library, specifically in the humanities section was her dream job. There was a sense of equality in their marriage. Penny accepted Michael’s commitments to Python and he accepted her love for history and the occasional stage performance!

Michael was so proud of Penny’s acting achievements on stage that he attended every performance of hers.

After the filming of Python had ended, Penny saw a lot more of Michael (in more ways than one!).

Although Michael had taken a break from Python, he was still busy in acting roles.

“I’ve got some good news love.”

“Oh yeah what’s that?”

“I’m going to be an adaptation of Three Men in a Boat with Stephen Moore and Tim Curry, my first big role outside of Python!”

Penny was expecting Michael to tell her about this role sometime soon. Three Men in a Boat was one of her favourite Michael roles and she was a big fan of Tim Curry too! Not only did Michael look drop dead gorgeous with a moustache but he was brilliant as Harris!

“Oh yes I had been waiting for you to tell me about this. You’ll have so much fun and you’re so lucky that you’re going to be working with Tim Curry, he’s one of my favourite actors!”

“Tell you what why don’t you come along to the set when we start filming and I can introduce you?”

Penny smiled widely.

“Oh my god really? Oh Michael you’re the best!”

She jumped into his arms and hugged him tightly.

However she felt that something was missing in both their lives…

Penny knew that Michael wanted children (well he wasn’t getting any younger!) and there was nothing she wanted more than to be a mother, so she brought up the conversation of trying a baby to Michael.

“How about us trying for a baby?”

“A baby? What’s brought this on Penelope?”

“Michael I know you want children and so do I, so let’s try it.” Said Penny with a wink.

“Well okay then, only if you’re ready love.”

“Course I am, I’ve been wanting to have your children since I was 16 years old…”

#don't worry it's all happy fuzzy stuff #michael palin #fanfiction #monty python

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andburning · 5 years

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The Exhaustive Train of Queer Decision Making

I remember watching Night of the Living Dead for the first time in my mid twenties and thinking to myself that I empathised deeply with those terrified people, trapped in a farmhouse late at night, surrounded by a horde of ghoulish creatures, shambling around looking every bit like normal people at first glance . I thought to myself — this is what it feels like to be at odds with society. This is how it feels when you’re the ones who don’t fit in. It feels like being locked in a small house, surrounded by a mob of ghouls, hungry for your flesh. It is difficult to express sometimes how it feels to have such a core part of your being be regarded as outside of what is ’normal’. A lot of my experience of being queer, gender non conforming, or a faggot in general, is just being tired. Tired all the time. Everything is exhausting. Unimaginably so. I imagine that the experiences of all oppressed peoples align on this at some point. I used to be angry, and hold my ground, and speak my mind. But more and more these days, it feels like a war of attrition. It feels like a siege. I feel like those people trapped in that farm house in Night of the Living Dead, hounded by ordinary looking people, pounding at the doors and clawing at the windows. Once I had the desire to fight but now, I am older, and have lost the belly fire, and I’m just so, deeply, deeply tired.

Small things become huge ordeals when you do not conform. Things that for many people are utterly inconsequential for me have associated mental risk-assessments. Just a simple thing as mentioning a partner in passing becomes a small puzzle to navigate. Which word should I use? Should I use ‘partner’ in order to obfuscate my meaning, or should I just bulldoze the status quo and just say boyfriend? This again becomes even more calamitous if my current partner is also gender non-conforming and doesn’t want to be called a boyfriend or girlfriend because of the gender implications. I have learned to make these risk assessments very quickly. Who am I talking to? Is the conversation casual or formal? Who else is in the room? How likely am I to be grilled on my life experience? This is all the work that goes into the sentence: “I’m having dinner with my boyfriend tonight”. Simple things. The way we sometimes frame ‘coming out’ is as a thing you do once, at sixteen, when you sit down with your mum and dad or parental guardian or whatever, and you admit that you’re a massive faggot and that you want to kiss boys instead of girls. Or vice versa. Or maybe you want to kiss both. Whatever it is, you have a sexuality (or gender identity) which is outside the heteronormative expectation. It is, however, not as simple. It is sadly not something you can pluck up the courage for (what a brutal thing to expect young queer kids to go through by the way) perform once (and it is a performance) and be done with. Coming out is something that must be done over and over and over again. It is something that happens whenever we meet new people. Whenever we start a new job. Whenever we join a new school. Whenever we take up a martial arts class, or a pottery class. No matter how far in life we get, how comfortable we are — in any new experience, any new group, any new situation — until we have revealed that we are gay or queer or transgender or whatever — we are back ‘in the closet’; and it is as uncomfortable and lonely as it was when we were thirteen years old deleting our browser history on the family computer at one o’clock in the morning. Isolation, and loneliness, and fear are part and parcel of being queer in the world we live in.

And once again, every time we have to come out all over again, even if we want to, even if we are excited and proud to do so, we must make another internal risk assessment. Usually we will leave it a while before we admit to our sinful difference when starting a new job — scoping the territory, getting the lay of the land. We scope out who seems like a safe bet — “that person seems not too stern, they’re fairly young, they wear fashionable clothes, they seem like they’re probably not a bigot — not like that old grim looking man with the too tight necktie and the corduroy — he seems like a real fag basher”. I am being hyperbolic but also not quite. Sometimes it is often that black and white.

In the workplace — or in school — these things matter but there are levels of protection. There are rules in place that everyone needs to abide by. It’s unlikely that someone will just get up and sock me in the jaw in the middle of the office. Unlikely but it could still happen.

Coming out in public is an altogether different experience. The risk assessment process has to be completed quickly, and repeated, over and over, on a street by street basis. It’s impossible to walk down the street side by side with my partner without constantly thinking about what everyone around me is thinking. Very small things, things we should take for granted, are calculated and considered. Holding hands, a peck on the cheek, hugging before they step onto the train, an arm around the waist. It’s so deeply tiring to not be able to do these things without having to first scan the crowd around me and think about the consequences of my indiscretion. I have held many of my boyfriends’ hands in public and every time it felt like I was breaking some rule, engaging in something taboo — something filthy and sinful. It’s taken me a long time to realise that this is not my own personal moral failing but the moral failing of the society that ostracises and makes pariahs out of gays, lesbians, and transgender people.

The way queer people have been depicted in culture has been by and large a vision of Sodom and Gomorrah: fornicators, sexual deviants, something that needs to be cured, or wiped out, or punished. We are to be kept away from children, and the vulnerable. Growing up with this as a framework is hard work. I remember feeling so utterly alone as a teenager, not knowing anyone who was like me, not knowing who I could talk to, not knowing what to do. I very clumsily came out quite early at school. I remember ‘gay’ being thrown around as a pejorative in the same way I imagine a lot of people my age remember it. I was in a fairly unique position in my school in that I was exceptionally tall for my age and pretty much as open about being gay as a fourteen year old can be (in that I didn’t understand it at all but it was 2002 so we all knew who Graham Norton was). Gay was something to be avoided. It meant you were lesser. It meant you weren’t a real boy. It meant you were a pansy, a girl, a sissy. The truth is we were all of us working on the information we had at hand. We all heard our family members subtly reinforcing this narrative at home whenever Dale Winton or Lilly Savage came on the television on Saturday Night. All of us grew up in families that had lived through the AIDS crisis and the moral panics of the 60s and 70s. I heard stories about how my grandmother refused to visit her local hair salon for months after she found out her hairdresser was gay. I remember watching a television programme when I was a teenager. A gay character on screen kissed his partner. My grandfather, whom I loved dearly, said nothing and simply walked out of the room. It hurt me very deeply.

Both my grandparents are dead now and I never told them that I was gay. I never felt I had the time, or the words. It never felt like the right place. I never felt like I had the right reason. It always felt narcissistic of me. I remember when my grandmother was dying I visited her one last time in hospital and I regretted not talking about it then. I regretted it at the time but now, nearly ten years later I think I probably made the right decision. It was as my grandmother lay dying though that I came out to my mother. I was twenty-one. Something about the situation made me feel like I should be open finally about who I was. I don’t regret not telling my grandparents I was gay — firstly because it would have caused extra tension and emotional difficulties which I already had enough of as a teenager to be perfectly honest, and secondly because it wouldn’t have made me feel much closer to them anyway. What I do regret however is that it’s something that I even had to consider. I regret growing up in a world where that was something I had to keep secret. I regret growing up surrounded by people who made it very clear to me that they would be ashamed of me were I to reveal myself to be ‘one of those’. I resent that I had to put up with that. When I came out to my mother, both of us sat on my bed while everyone else was downstairs, she said something to me that glanced off my hardened emotional armour at the time, but that has since wormed its way inside me like an ancient piece of shrapnel in an old soldier — she said “I always knew”. It meant nothing at the time. These were words I had come to expect. The more I think about it, and I think more about it the older I get, I start to wonder to myself — if she always knew, why didn’t she help me? Why wasn’t she the emotional support society and the media and my school and my friends weren’t? It hurts now to think how much she left me to suffer alone in the darkness of my bedroom at night, thinking I was never going to feel the sort of love that everyone else got to.

I still feel like those people trapped in the house, surrounded by zombies. Sometimes I worry that the further we progress towards liberation, the more precarious our situation. The height we climb is equal to the potential distance we could fall. In the last couple of years the struggle for queer liberation was focussed specifically on so-called ‘same sex marriage’ — the right for someone to marry a person of the same sex as themself. It was a fight for me that felt like it had no particular weight. Of course I feel I should be able to marry another person of my sex, should I choose to, and so should everyone else, but it felt like it didn’t address the real and tangible inequalities which add to a profile of persecution. A gay couple, married, perhaps even with children, will walk down the street making those same risk assessments as I do with my boyfriend, to whom I am not married. Very little has changed. I still don’t feel safe. Every time I see a news story from the United States about the moves that administration is making towards curbing LGBTQ rights, when I see fascists being elected on ‘family values’ tickets in Brazil, or when I see opinion pieces in the Guardian claiming that giving trans people the right to claim their own identity is a moral dilemma here in Britain, I am reminded that we have so much to lose, and our victories are precarious and must be defended. When the National Socialist party burned books in Germany in the 1930s, many of the books they burned contained over a decade worth of progressive research into sexuality and gender studies from the library of Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld and the archives of the Institute for Sexual Sciences in Berlin. It is impossible to not remind myself of this, when my thinking gets complacent, when I think that what we have achieved can never be taken away. It is a terrifying thought, but it keeps me vigilant, and lights the fire within me to push harder always for the liberation of people like me. I think always to the future when we might live in a world where queer people can kiss in public, hold hands in public, and feel shame only for the tweeness of showing affection in public, not for who they are showing that affection to. I don’t want the next generation to grow up feeling like those people trapped in a house, surrounded by ghouls, I want us to be able to grow up feeling comfortable with who we are, to be who we are without fear of reprisal. I want to live in that world now. There is still much work to do but I am no longer a scared and lonely little boy who can’t tell people who they are. I want to know that there is a time, not long from now I hope, where we won’t have to worry about being who we are, and we won’t have to regret not having been honest and open about who we love.

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anavoliselenu · 7 years

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Anchor me chapter 6

“Unless we settle, probably at least another week. Then it’ll depend on how long the jury’s out.” “We’ll do drinks when you get back,” I say. “Or you’ll drink, and I’ll look longingly at your scotch.” “Sounds like a plan. Love you.” “Back at you,” I say, and when I hang up, I see that I have a voicemail from Bijan. I call him back right away, and he apologizes that their PR department sent the newsletter before he’d spoken with me. I assure him it’s not a problem, we schedule a call for Wednesday to go over the specs and set the first round of Dallas meetings, and I manage to control my squeals of joy and delight until after the call ends. Then, of course, I call Justin—to give him both the good news and the bad. “He just left the office for a meeting,” Rachel says. “But congratulations!” “Twitter?” “Instagram, actually. That picture of you on the lawn of your old house. But the caption was good news, and so I asked Justin and—” “It’s all good,” I say, cutting her off. “How long do you think he’ll be out of the office?” “He didn’t say. I’m not even sure who he’s meeting with. He was over in the apartment, and when he came back, he said it had just come up. Do you want me to leave him a message?” “No, that’s okay. I’ll send him a text. He’ll call me when he gets a chance.” “Sounds good. By the way, what are you wearing to the premiere? I’ve never been to a red carpet thing before.” “I’m wearing a white dress with black trim on the bodice and a completely unreasonable slit up the thigh. I was excited about it before, but now I’m thrilled. I figure I should take advantage of the occasion since pretty soon I’ll be in maternity clothes. But as for you, you can do a gown or a cocktail dress. Either one’s appropriate.” “Gown, duh. It’s not like I get the chance that often. Besides, I think Graham Elliott might be there,” she adds, referring to the A-lister she actually met once for about seven seconds. “He and Kirstie Ellen Todd broke up, you know, so maybe I have a shot now.” “Maybe you do,” I say encouragingly. “And if not, there’s always Lyle Tarpin.” “He’ll definitely be there,” I say. “He’s not only starring in the movie, but he’s the incoming celebrity sponsor of the Stark Children’s Foundation.” “That man is seriously hot. I mean, there’s like lava flowing under that whole innocent Iowa boy vibe he’s got going.” I fight a grin. “You think?” “Definitely. Except I think the nice guy routine is real. I mean, you never hear about who he’s dating, and he’s only recently started going to red carpet things.” “Maybe he doesn’t like the whole Hollywood lifestyle.” “Oh, no. That’s not it at all. He loves Hollywood. He just values his privacy.” Her tone is almost solemn, and I can picture her shaking her head vehemently, then leaning forward and cupping her hand around the mouthpiece of the phone as she shares some big secret. I adore Rachel, but she’s significantly more fascinated with Hollywood than I am. Which isn’t saying much, though now that I live in LA, I try to at least pay enough attention that I can follow Jamie’s conversations over drinks. That thought reminds me that I’m meeting Jamie for lunch and I want to get some actual work done before that. I finish up with Rachel, then text Justin. Got the job! Call when you can. Want to share that good news and tell you something else, too. XXOO. Almost immediately, I get a reply. Never had a doubt. Soon, Mrs Stark . . . I hug my phone close, because I sure as hell had doubts. But I truly believe that Justin didn’t. Where my career is concerned, he is my most ardent fan. I text Jamie next, telling her I’ll be at Art’s Deli on Ventura at noon, which only gives me half an hour to go through all my emails and handle any crises. Except I’m not in the mood to work. Not at all. And since my office is less than a mile from the restaurant, I decide to walk there and do a little window shopping along the way. In the grand scheme of things, I haven’t lived in Los Angeles all that long. But Ventura Boulevardhas changed a lot in my time here. More restaurants, more shops. Jamie’s condo is just a few blocks off Ventura, so we came down here all the time to grab a drink or a bite or poke around in the bookstore housed in an old, converted theater. Now, I’m looking at the street with a different point of view. I see toys in windows. A shop with designer baby clothes. A store with what has to be the Rolls Royce of baby carriages and a crib that is the most precious thing ever. A darling little onesie with a giraffe catches my eye, and I veer toward that window, thinking that it’s a shame that it’s way too small for Jeffery. Almost the second the thought enters my head, I realize that I don’t have to focus my baby shopping on Jeffery—I have my own baby on the way. I can shop for Ashley. And so I do. In under twenty minutes, I manage to do significant damage to my credit card. Or what I would have considered significant in another life. The amount I just spent is probably less than what Justin has in his pocket at any given moment. That’s something that has taken me some getting used to—this constant proximity to money. The fact that I don’t actually have to think about how much things cost. Not as a matter of survival, at any rate. I still cringe at the thought of paying jacked-up prices just because the store or the designer is trendy. But the point is, I can. Which is why my shopping bag is now filled with a variety of undoubtedly overpriced baby clothes, all of which are just so darn cute that I couldn’t say no. They’re also all unisex, because even though I’ve started calling the baby Ashley, I’m not completely delusional. I’m just hopeful. “Congratulations again, Mrs. Stark,” the clerk says happily. “Come again soon.” “Thanks, I will.” I head out of the store, swinging the pretty yellow shopping bag as I hurry toward the crosswalk because, naturally, now I’m running late. I pull out my phone as I wait for the light to change, just in case Jamie has texted. She hasn’t. I glance to make sure the light is still red before I start to scroll through my emails. And that’s when I see the woman on the other side of the road. Mother? A nearby man turns sharply toward me. “Excuse me?” I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud, but I don’t bother to answer. Instead, I step forward off the curb. “Mother!” I say again. “Elizabeth!” But no one responds. It’s just a crush of people on the opposite sidewalk, all hurrying to and fro during the lunch hour. I curse under my breath and take another step, determined to get across the street. To find her. But now I don’t even see a blond head in the crowd, which is a miracle in a city like LA, and for a moment, I just stand there, defeated. Until someone screams my name—and I turn toward the voice and see a fast-moving BMW coming right at me.

A violent screeching accosts my ears as the smell of burning rubber insults my nose. My upper arm burns from where someone has grabbed it too tightly, and I turn, startled, to face Jamie. “What the fuck?” she shouts, looking more agitated than I’ve ever seen her. “Selena! What the hell are you doing?” “I—I thought I saw—” “Come on.” She gives my arm a tug, yanking me back onto the sidewalk. “But I saw my mom again,” I say, stupidly. “She was right there.” I point across the street in the general direction we need to be heading. “Your mom?” she repeats, and I nod. I watch as a full spectrum of emotions play over her face. Worry. Disbelief. Shock. Fear. She squints as she looks that direction, then shakes her head. “She’s not there, Nik.” “But—” “And even if she were, that’s not exactly a good reason to get pummeled in traffic. You scared the shit out of me.” “I know. I’m sorry.” I scared the shit out of me, too. I draw a deep breath and realize that my hand is resting protectively over the baby. “Jamie, I—” She holds up a hand. “Hold that thought. Come on.” This time when she takes my arm, it’s gentler. She leads me across the street in the direction where I saw my mother, then down a block to the deli where we were supposed to meet. We sit in silence until she’s ordered for both of us, then she leans back in the booth, stares right at me, and says, “What the fuck?” I don’t even know where to begin, but I suck in a fortifying breath and dive in. “That wasn’t my imagination. I saw her, James. I’m sure of it. She sold her house, and now she’s here.” She leans forward, her elbows on the table, then immediately leans back again because the waitress is sliding coffee cups in front of us. I expect her to say something, but instead she adds about a gallon of cream to her coffee, stirs, and then takes a sip. She puts the cup back down, then exhales slowly. “This has the potential to be seriously fucked up.” “No kidding.” “But if she moved here, why not say something to you? Why just keep popping up in the background like some freakish version of Where’s Waldo?” “To torment me, obviously.” “Maybe,” Jamie says, but she sounds dubious. “So what’s your theory?” I say, leaning back. I want to take a sip of something warm, but I can’t do coffee, and I’d been too out of it to change the order to herbal tea. “Nothing. I don’t know. You’re probably right. Your mom’s freakish enough to think that gaslighting you is a time-honored mother-daughter bonding technique.” She isn’t looking at me. Instead, she’s concentrating on running her finger around the rim of her coffee cup. “But . . .?” Her shoulders rise and fall. “It’s just that you’re the only one who’s seen her.” She lifts her head to look at me. “I’ve been with you twice now, and I didn’t see shit.” “That doesn’t mean—” “No, it doesn’t. But you’ve never caught up with her, and she disappears like Santa Claus.” “She sold her house.” “Lots of older women do. Maybe she wanted to live in a garden home and use the money she spent on landscapers to travel to Europe.” “Or Los Angeles,” I mutter, but Jamie doesn’t hear me. “Okay, fine. She sold her house and me seeing her is just a coincidence. Just my whacky imagination.” “Don’t act like that doesn’t make sense,” she says. “You know it does.” She starts to count out the reasons on her fingers. “First you were putting together that Dallas proposal, so she was on your mind. Now, you know she’s moved, so duh. Come on, Nicholas. We both know you’ve got mommy issues. And that’s got to be on overdrive now.” She glances at the little yellow shopping bag on the seat beside me, then bites her lower lip. “I mean, doesn’t it?” A sharp stab of guilt cuts through me, and I deflate. “I swear I was going to tell you at lunch—we didn’t start telling anyone until today. When did you hear?” She screws up her mouth. “I saw on social media when you were in Dallas. That’s why I called, actually. But then you told me about your mom moving, and I thought I should just wait until you told me about the baby.” “Oh.” I frown, feeling like a horrible best friend. “Listen, James,” I begin, but at the same moment, she reaches across the table to grab my hands, saying, “God, I’m such a bitch!” She pulls me into an awkward across-the-booth hug. “Congratulations,” she squeals, then plunks back down into her seat. “Oh, my God, I’m going to be an aunt!” “So you’re not mad at me?” “Are you kidding? Not even.” I laugh, happy and relieved and contrite all at the same time. “I really am sorry,” I say, but she just waves the apology away. “Oh, please! I should have told you I knew. I was just—doesn’t matter. I’m so freaking excited for you.” She props her elbows on the table and peers hard at me. “You’re excited, too, right?” There’s genuine concern under the question, and it reminds me of just how well she knows me. “I was freaked at first,” I admit. “But I’m over it. Now, I’m excited. Still nervous about—well, everything—but it’s a good kind of nervous.” Even as I talk, I realize that I’m more confident than I was yesterday. “Morning sickness isn’t my friend,” I continue. “But it’s part of the experience. And I’m even okay with not drinking coffee,” I add, then take a sip of water. “Oh, shit. I wasn’t thinking.” She drags my coffee to her side of the table, then adds cream. “I’ll just take that temptation away.” “How about you?” I ask. “Are you excited or nervous or both?” I expect her to bounce in her seat with typical Jamie exuberance, but all she does is stir the coffee. “You mean about the red carpet thing? It’s cool. Exciting, you know?” “Um, yeah. Hugely exciting.” The waitress slides the sandwich we’re sharing into the middle of the table, and I grab a French fry, then use it to point at her. “What’s going on?” “Oh, hell. It’s just that I thought the gig was the start of a promotion. It turns out it was the start of an audition. And I’m already failing, which means that the premiere is going to be my first and last time to walk a red carpet or do celebrity interviews or any of that stuff. And then I’m back to an anchor desk—which is a great job, don’t get me wrong, but now that they’ve dangled the entertainment reporter carrot . . .” She trails off with a frustrated sigh while I try to filter through everything she’s just rattled off and make some sense of it. “I’ve already asked Jane and Lyle.” “Asked them?” “To do an interview with me,” she explains.

“They said no?” That doesn’t seem like something either one of them would do. “They said yes. The studio said no. I can catch them on the red carpet to chat about their outfits and how excited they are about the movie, but no one-on-one interview. Apparently, the studio’s already set up exclusives with another network.” “So you’re telling me that you have to go out and set up your own interviews? That sucks.” “Tell me about it.” She looks more morose than I’ve ever seen her. “Jackson knows Graham Elliott,” I say, referring to another A-lister. “I thought of that,” Jamie confesses. “But he’s in Vancouver on a shoot. I thought about asking Bryan,” she adds, referring to her ex-boyfriend, Bryan Raine, “but just the thought gave me hives.” “Besides,” I say, “you don’t want to give that asshole any free publicity.” “True that.” She sips her coffee. “We should have done happy hour. I could use a shot of bourbon in this. But I guess you’re a no-go on happy hour these days anyway.” She sighs. “I’m so fucked.” “The whole thing makes no sense. Do they think you can just pluck celebrities off a tree? And aren’t you the talent? Isn’t there someone behind the scenes whose job it is to line up the interviews for you?” “That’s the way it works once you land the job. Right now, I think it’s all about proving how much I want it. How spunky I am,” she adds with a very non-spunky snarl. “So we just need to find you one juicy story that gets their attention?” “I think so.” She shrugs. “I hope so.” I nod slowly, realizing now why she’d really called when I was in Dallas. And why it had sounded like she had my resume in front of her—because she’d been preparing interview questions. I reach for another French fry as I consider. Because while I hate the idea of putting the spotlight on Justin and me and the baby, I’m not naive enough to think we can avoid it forever. So maybe it’s better to jump right in and take control of the conversation from the get-go? I draw a breath, then jump into the deep end. “What about me?” I ask as she lifts a section of club sandwich to her mouth. “Or, actually, what about Justin?” Because goodness knows I’m not that interesting. But Justin has been in the public eye for decades. She drops the sandwich back to the plate, but her mouth stays open. “James?” “Are you serious? An interview with you and Justin? If you mean it, that would be amazing.” “I mean it,” I say. “And you could have asked when you called me in Dallas.” She sags, looking a bit sheepish. “I thought about it, obviously. But I know how much you hate interviews, and you were freaked about your mom, and—look, Nicholas, are you sure?” “Totally. I’d rather do an interview with you than have rumors floating around out there.” “And Justin?” “It’ll be fine,” I say, and she just nods. We both know that if I ask him, he’ll do the interview. “We’ll do it on the red carpet,” she says. “And you’ll keep it short?” “Hey, it’s fine by me,” she says. “I figure short is one hell of a lot more than any other reporter will get, right?” I laugh. “Only you, James,” I promise. “Only you.” She thrusts her hand across the table. “Pinkie swear,” she says. “Best friends forever, and we’ll always have each other’s backs.” “Always,” I agree. “And you’ll get the job, James. You’re awesome, so how could you not?” “Speaking of awesome and jobs, what happened at your interview? Any word yet?” “I got it.” Just saying the words makes me giddy all over again. “I found out this morning, actually.” “Ha! That’s fabulous! And damn, but we are an awesome pair.” “I’m just hoping I can survive morning sickness, stay awake long enough to finish interviewing possible new employees, and get everything done on time and on budget.” I bite my lower lip. “This is a make or break project, James. Am I allowed to say I’m nervous?” “Welcome to the club,” she says. “You’re also going to totally nail it. I’ve got your back. Justin’s got your back. Seriously, you’re swimming in a sea of well wishes.” “And a few sharks,” I say. Her brow furrows, but before she has the chance to ask what I’m talking about, I open my phone to my messaging app and pass it to her. “I figure they’re from somebody who’s pissed off I got the job and they didn’t. Or pissed that I was even invited to interview, because the first text came before the offer came in.” I watch as Jamie scrolls through the three messages. “Maybe Ryan can trace them?” Jamie’s husband is the head of security for Stark International. “I don’t think so,” she says. “We were talking about that once when we were watching some really bad action movie. He said it’s seriously hard to trace a text message. And odds are good this is coming from a burner phone, too.” “I hate not knowing who it is,” I admit. “Oh, please. I know. It’s some dickless wonder who thinks he’s all that, and that a gorgeous woman with a rich husband can’t have a brain. Fuck him.” I can’t help but smile. As far as I’m concerned, Jamie’s assessment is dead-on perfect. “What makes you think you can handle it?” she says, quoting the first text. “It.” She repeats. “Huh.” “What?” I ask. She shakes her head. “Probably nothing. It’s just that you said the first one came before you got the job. Did it come before you fainted, too?” I frown. “No, it was after my interview, actually. Why?” “It’s just that the rumors that you were pregnant had started by then. So maybe it doesn’t mean the job. Maybe it means the baby.” “I thought of that.” I press my hand over my belly. “And Giselle’s here.” “What?” Jamie turns in her seat. “Where?” “No, in LA. I saw her at the Tower this morning. She had a meeting with Justin.” “No shit? I bet she’s got a serious grudge going. What did Justin say? Does he think she sent the messages?” I pick up a sugar packet and start fiddling with it. “I haven’t told him about the messages yet,” I admit. “Have you lost your mind?” “I know, I know. But I just got these last two today. And as for the first, I figured it was a one-off, and why get Justin all riled up? But with today’s texts—well, I was actually about to tell him this morning, but then Ollie called, and then I headed out to meet you, and . . .” I trail off lamely. “Not an excuse,” she says sagely. “Trust me. Over the last few months, I’ve learned quite a few things about the marriage code.” She leans forward conspiratorially. “Did you know there are actually rules and expectations?” I feign shock. “No!” “Yes. It’s quite the minefield to navigate.” “I’m sure Ryan is happy to carry you over all the little bumps and incendiary devices.”

“My feet barely even touch the ground,” she says wistfully. “You’re loving it. I’m so happy for you.” “You know, on the whole, it feels pretty much the same as being single. Except with jewelry,�� she adds, waggling her left hand and showing off her wedding band. “Bullshit.” “Hey, we were practically married before. So it was really no big deal to tie the knot officially.” I just smile, because I know how big of a deal it was. Jamie’s fear of matrimony almost made her blow the best thing that ever happened to her. “So where is the man of your house?” I ask. “You were attached at the hip when you first got married. But that was months ago on Valentine’s Day.” I make a sad face and try not to crack a smile. “Has the bloom worn off?” “Ha ha. We’re both working to prep for the premiere,” she says. “Which means I’m here negotiating high-level interviews with techno-savvy socialites—” I make a face. “—and he’s with his slave driver of a boss, otherwise known as your husband, to talk about tightening up security.” She glances over my shoulder toward the window and the view of Ventura Boulevard. “Actually, maybe he’s not.” I frown, then turn around to see what she’s looking at. Right there, parked just outside the window, is a shiny red Bugatti Veyron, one of the world’s most expensive cars. And one of my husband’s favorite toys. Within seconds after I notice Justin’s car, my phone pings with an incoming text. Here. Now. I grimace, then glance at Jamie. “Apparently, I need to go. You’ll get the check?” “Rules,” she says. “It’s a minefield.” “I’m pretty sure I’ve tripped a detonator,” I say as I remember that my iPad was in the apartment. And that my text messages flash across the lock screen. “Good luck,” she says, then grabs a section from my half of the sandwich. I give her a wave, then head outside. Then I draw in a deep breath for courage before I get into the car and stow my shopping bags at my feet. Sure enough, my iPad is sitting in the passenger seat. It’s quiet now, with nothing on the screen. But I scowl at it, anyway. “Traitor,” I say. “On the contrary,” Justin says. “I’m considering offering your iPad a job in security. Certainly it’s doing a better job keeping me informed about threats to my wife than the lady herself is managing.” “I was going to—” He holds up a finger, then waves it back and forth, indicating that I need to stay silent. “But—” “No.” I press my lips together and lean back in the seat. I know well enough that it’s best not to argue. Not yet, anyway. “Where are we going?” I ask as he pulls into traffic, and though he doesn’t say anything, in a few moments, I have my answer. He turns into the parking lot of my office condo, kills the engine, then gestures for me to follow him. We walk in silence up to my office, and the moment the door closes behind us, he grabs me and pulls me to him, holding me in such a tight embrace, I think I just might suffocate. “Justin—Justin.” He releases me, but before I can say another word, his mouth is on mine, his hands roaming my body, pulling up my skirt, tugging down my panties. I’m gasping, my contrite guilt at not having told him about the texts disappearing under a wave of pure arousal. “On the desk,” he says, but before I have the chance to move there, he’s lifted me up and sat my bare ass on the polished wood. He spreads my legs, drops to his knees, and buries his face between my thighs. I shudder with the building excitement, then lean back, putting my weight on one hand. I spread my legs even wider as I use my other hand to slide my fingers in his hair and hold his head as he goes down on me, his tongue licking and teasing and turning me on so much that all I can think of is the building explosion. Then he pulls back, and I whimper with a disappointment that fades as quickly as it came. Because now Justin is standing between my legs, and his fly is open and his cock is out. He holds my ass in one hand and scoots me to the edge, so that his cock is right at my core. And then, with one wild, hard movement, he thrusts deep inside me, fucking me hard, punishing me beautifully. “Lie back,” he orders, and I do, resting my back and shoulders on the desk. He lifts my hips, then tugs me toward him even as he buries himself deeper and deeper inside me. He needs this, I know. Needs to feel that I’m safe and here. Needs to know that no matter how wildly the world around us spins, he still has some measure of control—even if it’s only the control of my body, my pleasure. Even if it’s only ensuring that he and I are together, always. And so he takes from me as hard as he gives. It’s wild and brutal, and I’m so wet and turned on that I know I will explode any minute. I reach my hand between my legs, teasing my clit with my fingers and also stroking his cock as he enters me, harder and faster, until finally his body lurches and he bursts inside me, falling on top of me and pinning me down as the final throes of the orgasm rack through his body. I squirm against him, seeking release as he recovers. “I shouldn’t let you come,” he murmurs. “More than that, I should spank your ass.” I’m in no position to argue. Instead, I just beg. “Please,” I say. “Justin, please.” He slides his hand between us and teases my clit with firm, sure motions that have desire building anew inside me. Higher and higher, until I’m so wound up that when the explosion comes, I open my mouth to scream. Only a squeak gets out, though, because he captures the sound with a kiss. That’s for the best, I think as sanity returns. I hardly need to shock Marge. We sprawl on my desktop, half naked and sated from this wild, unexpected encounter. Soon, though, Justin gets up, then tugs me to my feet and leads me to the couch. “Why?” he says, taking a seat beside me and adjusting my clothes. “I saw the message flash on your screen, so I opened your app and saw two others with it. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” “The first time was in Dallas before I went to see Ashley. I thought it was a one-off, I swear. And then I forgot about it.” “And the others?” “Both today,” I tell him. “I sent you a text, remember? Saying I had something to tell you. This was it.” He rubs his temples. He doesn’t look happy, but neither does he look pissed. “Who?” he asks. “Any ideas?” “At first I thought it was about the job—which means it could be anyone. A competitor. An employee at Greystone-Branch who doesn’t like me.” I shrug. “But then I thought Giselle. Or even Sofia. Or,” I add, looking down at the floor, “maybe even my mom.” For a moment, he’s still and silent. Then he stands and starts to pace. “I can’t believe Sofia would do that.”

I press my lips together. I can believe a hell of a lot worse about her, but considering she’s all the way in the UK, I’m not going to argue. “And not Giselle. She’s newly married to a man who doesn’t like controversy and has a hefty bank account. I don’t think she’d risk that.” I nod, that seems fair enough. Everything she did before was with an eye to saving her cash flow. “Your mother,” he says slowly. “You really think she moved here?” “I think I saw her today,” I admit. “I’ve been seeing her around town, remember? Maybe that was her warm-up act for the texts.” “Maybe,” he says, though he doesn’t sound convinced. “So what do we do?” I ask, as he reaches down to help me up. “For now, we wait. And you tell me the instant you get another message.” “I will,” I promise. “What else?” “Now we try and forget about it, at least for a little while.” “Oh.” I grin. I like that idea. “Are you heading back to work?” “Actually, I thought you might want to do some more shopping.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Unless you already got your fill?” “Of shopping for the baby? Not even close,” I meet his smile with one of my own. “In fact, I found the most darling crib . . .” 13 Justin’s already up by the time the sound of the ocean and the soft light of morning teases me awake. I slide out of bed and stretch, wishing that we could stay here all day. Not possible, though. We both have empires to run. The thought makes me grin, because it’s true. My empire’s significantly smaller than his, but it’s growing, and if I’m going to keep it chugging along, I need to park myself at my desk and get through some of the initial tasks for Greystone-Branch. Before that, though, I have one key appointment, and as I look at the clock, I realize that I should probably hurry. I’d gone to bed naked, and now I pull on a fuzzy robe and tie it around my waist before I head out in search of my husband. I expect to find him in the kitchen, and I’m surprised when I realize that the entire third floor is empty. The house is ten thousand square feet—large by normal human standards, though small in the world of billionaires—but still plenty big enough for a man to get lost in. When I don’t find him at his desk on the mezzanine level, I assume that he’s gone all the way down to the first floor to take a swim or work out in the gym. Unfortunately, I’ve assumed wrong. I’m about to give in and call for him through the intercom when I realize that I know exactly where he is. I head back upstairs to the second floor. Early in our marriage, this floor went mostly unused. Once Syl and Jackson got together and their kids came into our lives, however, we’d furnished one of the rooms as a kid-friendly guest room and another as a playroom. There are still two more rooms that have sat empty, filled with random furniture, miscellaneous boxes of mine, and some packed-up files of Justin’s. Now, I find him leaning against the door jamb of one of those unused rooms, just staring in at the mess of boxes and scattered, mismatched pieces of furniture. “Hey,” I say, easing beside him and sliding my hand into his. “What do you see?” he asks, nodding toward the room’s interior. “Boxes I need to sort through. I think some of those have clothes I’m never going to wear again.” I tilt my head to look at him and the wistful expression on his face. “What do you see?” “The crib we bought yesterday against the far wall,” he says, pointing to the spot he’s chosen. “It’s close enough to the window for the ambient light, but far enough away that the sun won’t shine in the baby’s eyes.” He turns to me. “Can you see it?” I nod, thinking about the sturdy white crib we’d decided on after looking at every single one on display in the upscale baby furniture store. None of them had been quite right, but then we saw one with a headboard design that had two elephants, their trunks twining into a heart shape, and a line of zoo animals stenciled on the outside. It’s absolutely darling, and both Justin and I fell in love with it immediately. It’s a special order, but it will be delivered soon. “It has a mobile hanging over it,” I say. “Another zoo theme.” I imagine a musical mobile hanging above the crib, tiny giraffes and lions and penguins going around and around above our little girl as she coos and kicks and reaches for the pretty animals. “And my rocker by the window,” I add. It was the only other piece of furniture we bought yesterday. When we’d set out, Justin had said he wanted to spread out the shopping. To take it slow and savor every moment and only buy one piece per trip. I was all for that plan until afternoon exhaustion snuck up on me, and I ended up sitting in the most amazing rocker in the history of the universe. And then I informed Justin that there was no way I was leaving that store without being absolutely certain that the rocker would soon be mine. “We need to figure out colors next,” I say. “And we need a changing table and a chest of drawers and maybe a rocking horse.” He grins at me. “I don’t think we need the rocking horse just yet.” “Okay, then. A giant stuffed bear. In fact, a whole menagerie of stuffed animals who can watchover her at night.” “And a bassinet,” he says. “Because she’s sleeping in our room at first.” “Definitely,” I say, as he starts to lead me away from the room toward the stairs. “And a baby monitor. Audio. Video. And a backup system.” “You read my mind.” We continue describing her room as we walk. What I want stenciled on the walls. Where to installspeakers so we can play her soothing music. The colors for her bedding. “Only about seven more months if Dr. Cray is right,” I say. “We’ll know Monday.” I nod. I don’t have to ask if he’s going with me to the appointment. There’s no way he’d miss it. And just that simple reality has me smiling again. “What?” he asks. “Just thinking how much I love you.” “Careful, or I might not let you out of the house. And I think you told me you had a full schedule today.” “I do,” I admit. “Today and tomorrow. I’m trying to get ahead of the game so that we can enjoy Friday.” “In that case, I suggest a sensual evening of working together in the library,” he says. “Two glasses of sparkling fruit juice. A coffee table littered with spreadsheets and computer code.” I laugh. “Sounds like the evening will have all the makings of an epic romance.” “So long as you’re with me, then yes,” he says, then pulls me close and kisses me hard. “You’re seeing Frank this morning?” he asks when he breaks the kiss, referring to my prodigal father. “Do you want me to come with you?”

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doodlewash · 7 years

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My story is not typical of many of the artists who have been featured here. I came to art late in the game. I didn’t draw and doodle much as a child. I didn’t study art in school or college. My path was very different.

I grew up in rural northern Indiana. I love the rural Midwest landscape, especially trees and fields. I went to college in Utah, where I learned to appreciate the desert landscape and mountains. I graduated and came back to Indiana and earned a Ph.D. in linguistics from Indiana University, where I taught for 26 years. During that time, we moved to forty very rural acres in Solsberry, Indiana. We had two children, made a beautiful garden, and I learned to weave and dye.

In due time, I started a side business selling hand-dyed yarn and handwovens. In 2011, I started blogging about our rural life and all the crazy things that happen out here. Those disparate activities taught me a lot of important things. As an academic, I learned to study and ask questions. To be a better dyer, I learned everything I could about color theory and color mixing. To be a better blogger, I learned photography and composition.

One day in 2014 on Facebook, I was tagged in one of those memes where you have to answer 20 questions about yourself and one of the questions was: If I had the time I would _____________. I found myself answering: If I had the time I would study painting. I had recently turned 50 years old and it had always been a secret dream of mine to be a painter.

I thought about that for a long time and then decided that just studying painting was a great way to start. I still study all the time: many different artists, styles and mediums. I study color. I study composition. That Christmas I got myself a little ‘how to watercolor’ book and did a few of the exercises. I let myself paint a lot and didn’t worry if it was bad. I painted the same scenes again and again. I took a few online Craftsy classes in watercolor and got a lot of encouragement. I took a watercolor class offered through the local community college and again got a lot of encouragement. The instructor invited me to join the local watercolor society, which I did.

I kept painting and painting and sharing my work with others. Someone suggested that I submit one of my pieces to the juried member show of the Watercolor Society of Indiana and it was accepted. At that point I got serious about watercolor. I took multi-day workshops with nationally known artists. I painted and painted.

What I like best about watercolor is also what is most challenging about watercolor. It’s unruly. The truth is, a lot of my life is that way. Our forty acres are big and messy and vulnerable to the caprices of nature. I spent years photographing and blogging about our life out here but I could never quite express the feeling of all that sky meeting all those trees meeting all the rest of rural Indiana until I started painting it. I love it when folks look at one of my landscapes and say, ‘Oh, that reminds me of home!’ I try to put as much home as possible in every painting. Things may not be tidy out here, but they sure are interesting. That’s what I paint.

The one thing that has made the biggest difference in my art has been my choice to be confident in my approach. Sometimes this means I paint confident garbage, but mostly it means that I am painting more and more good things. Using professional quality materials is a big confidence booster. I paint on Arches 140lb cold press paper. I use tube paint from Winsor & Newton, Daniel Smith, Mission, M. Graham and Sennelier. A single color can differ from maker to maker. It’s OK to experiment and try several different makers. Right now I really love how M. Graham and Sennelier have such intense colors and easily wetting paint – they are both made with honey and won’t dry on your palette. (As a beekeeper myself, I love that!)

Those are my beehives and I really do paint them bright colors like that!

My process is to gather several reference photos and then start putting together thumbnail sketches of the basic large shapes in my composition. I don’t try to make my painting match any photo. I might do a notan. Then I decide what colors to use. I might do a color harmony swatch or two. Or five. Then I dive right in on a 10 x 14 inch piece of paper and do the first draft.

This first draft is just that: a DRAFT. It’s not going to be perfect. I adjust colors. I take things out. I put things in. I pencil in possible corrections to the composition. I get a lot of feedback. In the end, this draft is usually a mess.

Getting feedback from multiple sources is really important to the process. It’s necessary if you want to find out whether or not you’re communicating what you think you are in your painting. It’s easy to get really focused on something and forget what else might be there. Feedback helps remind you about the whole painting. If they all say, ‘What’s that blob?’, then perhaps you need to work on it. But if one says, ‘Oh, I love that red shed’ and another says, ‘I don’t like that red shed’, then you know it’s fine, it’s just a matter of taste.

Feedback also tells you about the person giving the feedback. I once had someone spend 15 minutes telling me why a ½ square inch of my painting ruined the whole thing for her. It was a reflection of where she was in her life, her own issues and insecurities. I listened politely and she left feeling happy that she had set me on a better path with that piece. I did not make the change she suggested.

A great way to get feedback is to start a critique group. You can meet in person or start an online group. Find people who are interested in improving their art, not just getting positive feedback on any attempt. It doesn’t have to be watercolor – all art deals with color, shapes, value and composition. Find people who can give and take suggestions with grace and tact. Learn how to give suggestions with grace and tact. A good way to suggest a possible change is, ‘What if…’ or ‘Have you considered….’ Often, when I post a piece to my crit group, I do have an idea of what I’m unsure of in the piece and I come right out and say it. That helps focus the feedback on exactly the areas I want to work on.

Once I get some feedback, I make whatever changes I need to and start the next draft. As I work, I take the time to sit and look at the piece. See how it looks from 10 feet away. If your studio space is too small for that, then snap a pic, pull it up on your computer and take a look. If the painting works SMALL, it will work BIG.

Once a piece is finished, I set it aside and move on to something else. Then I come back to it after a few days/weeks to see if something jumps out at me. I make any changes and sign it, photograph it and frame it. Framing is an important step for me. It’s a way to give the piece some polish, to send it out into world, best foot forward. I use conservation quality mats and frame myself using ‘Best Practice’ techniques that I glean from professional framers and museums. Once the piece is framed, it is ready for immediate sale, shipping or exhibition. That saves a lot of last-minute fussing later.

My personal challenges these days are around color (always) and brushes. I try to take regular, everyday type rural scenes and paint them in an innovative way using unusual colors. I’m trying to work larger and that is forcing me to try new brushes and larger ones. My favorite brushes are the Princeton Long rounds, but I just got a size 30 round Mimik and I have to say I’m loving it for the big work. Every once in a while I try a piece using only a 2 inch flat brush. That’s a real challenge for me.

I will continue to study and paint and see where the art takes me. I hope my story has given you confidence to pick up a brush or pencil and just start. Wonderful things will happen, even late in the game. There are many paths to becoming an artist. I hope you find yours. And when you do, I’d love to hear about it!

Robin Edmundson Website Blog Facebook Instagram Pinterest Google + Twitter Etsy shop (hand-dyed yarn)

#WorldWatercolorGroup - GUEST ARTIST: "Many Paths Lead To Art" by Robin Edmundson -#doodlewash My story is not typical of many of the artists who have been featured here. I came to art late in the game.

#WorldWatercolorGroup #aquarelle #art #artist #farm #featured #inspiration #painting #rural #watercolor #watercolour

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nofomoartworld · 7 years

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DIS Magazine: Gogo Graham FW17 Lookbook

Model Cecelia Gentili Photography Serena Jara Hair Sonny Molina Clothes and Styling Gogo Graham

Intro by Devan Diaz

Four women sat atop a Brooklyn roof in February; a designer, a photographer, a writer, and a model. Arriving from Texas, Gogo came to the city to be the dressmaker for a population of invisible women. Serena, from Minnesota , was there to capture the day with the sort of tenderness that the job required. I was there to extract the truth, as all writers hope to do. This pursuit caused me to leave Nashville behind six years ago. On this unusually warm day, we all assembled ourselves around the model. Even the sun positioned itself in observance of her, creating the light needed for the shoot. We orbited around Cecilia Gentili, the reason for our gathering. To call her a model would be to simplify her role. With the austere of a Grand Dame, Cecilia is the matriarch for many transgender girls that come to New York seeking asylum. Gogo, Serena and I were just a few of those girls.

Gogo’s inspiration for the collection was born out of respect. When thumbing through the collection, she turned to me and said “She’s mommy. She deserves it.”

What took place was an intergenerational conversation that has no precedent. Our collective history is largely un-documented, but not for long. While the three of us were coming into the world, Cecilia was creating the path. When we embarked on womanhood, women like Cecilia offered a hand. This collection was a love letter to the past with an eye to the future.

An interview with Cecelia Gentile

Gogo: You know that like… you are the reason why me and so many other people are here

Cecelia: Thats very nice, thats a beautiful thing to say and I’m flattered, you’re gonna make me cry but I won’t… but you know, its not because of me its because of you… you had the audacity to be yourself and do what you want, I was just there, and I was able to help you in the process.

And that deserves credit, don’t get me wrong, I take my credit, I want my credit right, but its like… you get the real credit, you with your courage and your strong will to do what you needed to do to be happy. so, i was there, so i was able to help you, and thats a beautiful thing. Not just for you, its a beautiful thing for me you know, its a beautiful thing for me.

And… realistically… it was also my job, I got paid for it! How cool is that? How cool is that, to get a job being able to help somebody do whatever the fuck they want with their lives, with their bodies, its amazing.

G: You definitely facillitated that, in the most real, concrete way… I dont know if you remember when I first called…

C:I do…

G:I remember I called you, I was like… this is “deadname,” I want to know about the trans health program…

C: Let me tell you some secrets… English is my second language, so I have a real hard time understanding people sometimes, I have to make an effort to understand… So when you talk in such a quiet, intimate way… I’m like what the fuck did she say..

G: You were like yeah, just come to the orientation!

C: Just come to the orientation, maybe I can read your lips, girl lol

G: Lmao maybe there was a reason I was so quiet then though…

C: I hope I’m not offending you with this but, I just heard like… this really sad child.

G: Oh my god, yeah.

C: This really sad child, you know… and being able to help somebody…I don’t know if you did get out of that sadness, I hope you did, and it shows like you did… you’re like a new person, you’re bubbly… and happy overall, I see you happy. With some shit that may go down in your life just like anyone else, but its not that feeling of sadness.

And when I met you, not just you of course, with many people it happens, but with you specifically I can say… I saw a lot of myself, I was a young girl, in the big city, going to school and wanting to transition… No I wasn’t! There was no doctor, there was no Cecilia, there was nothing. So being able to assist you in your process is so rewarding, because then you do see that some things are changing, and it’s amazing… I can say that I love all the people I was able to help, in this transition process.

G: That’s a lot of people.

C: Yea, when I left it was like 600 people. 600 people… And I guess for some reasons you make special connections with some of them, and you were one of them. Actually, your group of friends are all in that group, you know like Serena… Now, we’re doing pictures, and I’m wearing your clothes, and Serena is taking the pictures.

And its like… we became family, and I know you do have a wonderful family, at least I know you have a wonderful mom, I don’t know the rest of your family… I don’t have any family here–I just have a partner–so you became my family… and I hope somehow, I became your family too…

G: You did!

C: And that’s what this process is about, because… if we’re not family to each other, what are we?

G: Chosen family…

C: Yea. Its so nice being a mother when your children are already grown, I don’t have to worry about you… I don’t have to worry about like, the milk being too hot, I don’t have to worry about your first time… its done and dealt with! But you know, it’s so good to have this experience.

G: I think, all of us, my friends who you just talked about, we all feel this way.

C: It’s just so wonderful, I lived so isolated for so many years, sometimes my partner will be like, ‘oh golly, you have so many friends!’… And I’m like, they’re not enough, I have to make up for all those years I lived isolated, and didn’t communicate with anybody.

G: I feel the opposite. I mean, we obviously didn’t have the same experiences and stuff, but I’m so cautious meeting people. I feel like there are alot of good people I haven’t met yet, but I’m so worried I’m going to find myself with bad people… It’s paranoia, I probably shouldn’t have even said that, but its the truth…

C: We have that, being trans, living everyday… comes with this anxiety. Is this person I’m going to walk across on the sidewalk going to be indifferent– which is awesome, if you’re indifferent to me, I’m happy— or are they gonna be a fucking psycho, or are they gonna be somebody who will let me know that they know I’m trans and they’re ‘ok with it’, which is kind of fucked up.

I think that’s part of trans people, especially trans women, that we have all this anxiety of how people are going to perceive us, and it makes sense that you are closed to finding that out, because if you don’t make an effort to find out, that’s better…

G: And even people who you know, or feel like you know, sometimes they suprise you… even today, I walked into this market, and this guys who’s always super extra friendly.. always commenting on whatever… in an extra way, and then one day he’s having a bad day and he decides to be like ‘Hey whats up man’. And its like, oh, now.. today I’m ‘man’…

C: Or if you didn’t pay him no mind, its just so usual, guys coming to you trying to pick you up, trying to be funny… and when you’re like ‘no, thanks’, they’re ‘oh you fucking man’… and I’m like– wait, let’s back up 2 minutes–

G: If you’re looking for a man lol…

C: Yea, whats up with that? But you know, it makes sense why so many of us are so resistant to establishing that kind of engagement with people.

I am kind of over everything, I’m 45, I’m like fuck everything, I don’t care, but for so many years its like, its better if I dont communicate with anyone, its easier, but then I was super isolated for so many years…

But then I changed and I allowed myself to kind of like open up to different people. Not everybody was great, I had bad experiences but during that process I got a lot of good people in my life, and that was pretty awesome.

G: Well, Serena shot this thing, and another thing I wanted to ask you about was the work you’re doing with Serena, and also your own work.

C: Well.. I have this super boring job– it’s not boring, it’s nice, and I’m really happy with the work I do, but for many people, looking from the outside, it’s like sitting in all office all day… But I really enjoy the work that I do, and not just that but having this title… like she’s the director of policy at this major organisation– deputy director of policy at GMAC.. who would have thought that this trans woman without a Masters would have such a powerful position in such a widely known organisation. So I enjoy that that is me!

I also do a lot of storytelling events where I just tell the story of my life. I have a lot of sad and horrible stories but I choose to tell people stories that are funny or fun, nice and easy to hear. I don’t think I’m ready to tell my painful stories yet, and someday maybe I will, but for now I just choose to focus on the fun part of being trans, and finding this way of liberation… So I do that, and I enjoy it a lot, and it makes me happy.

So with Serena, for her thesis at school, she’s been working with my stories, and doing photographic work around my stories, and we were able to do a couple of shoots that were really successful, the material she comes up with is so freaking amazing.

G: Both of you are!

C: I was working with her in this project, doing pictures for her, wearing your clothes… This opportunity came about and I was super happy to do it. Mind you.. I’m fucking 45 years old, I don’t know if I want to spend Saturday afternoon on a roof, with the wind and the cold on freaking high heels. But I wouldn’t change it for the world, I’d do it all and much more…

G: It was weird… the whole setting was just like perfect, don’t you think, for the middle of winter..

C: Yeah, it was the middle of winter, we had this really warm day-

G: The sun was out…

C: And I got there and Sonny did my hair so beautifully, and my makeup was so nice, we started doing the pictures and all the clothes just fit me so perfectly, the sun was nice and everything went so perfect… and I felt so comfortable, so comfortable.

G: Even in those fucking uncomfortable ass boots.

C: No, the boots were great, the only thing I didn’t enjoy was the sandals, the red sandals, I just need to feel my foot supported, I hate those. That’s the life of a model, you have to wear all this shit they want you to wear!

But as I said before… I’m 45, I weigh a couple of pounds more than I would like to weigh, my body doesn’t look like it did when I was in my 20s, it doesn’t look that much like how I want it to look like… but I came to love it as it is. I put it down to age in part, but I don’t think its just aging, I know some people get to… I think it was a process of empowering myself and being empowered by my community to accept my body as it is.

So although I may not look the way I want to look, or aspire to look… Modelling clothes for a photoshoot is like, hey my body is beautiful and I can do this. For so many years I felt so uncomfortable with my body, that at this age being able to be ok with it and happy with it as it is, is so empowering and so beautiful… and having somebody make clothes that look great over this body is so gratifying and so important for me.

G: I mean– you looked so fucking incredible that day, you look so incredible as you sit before me now… it shows in the photos I think.

C: The photos are fucking amazing, I can’t wait to see them out.

G: You look so powerful, I mean you are– you’re a very powerful woman.

C: Thank you, thank you, I like to think that I am, I could be humble and I wish I could say, ‘oh nooo’, but no, I am fucking powerful, and I like to come across as being powerful. It has nothing to do with being trans– no, it has to do with being trans, it has to do with being a woman, it has to do with being a person of colour, it has to do with being a Latina with a fucking accent– I have to come across as being powerful, otherwise people walk all over you.

The intersection that people like you and me have, being trans woman of color– I always like to say non-black trans woman of colour– you have it very hard from many sides, being trans woman, being a woman, being a person of colour. For me, it’s important to come across as powerful, and I do make an effort, even when I don’t feel powerful, I do make an effort to come across as powerful. Again, I’m going to put it down to age, I’m fucking 45 and you’re not gonna walk over me, no– not this time, I let this happen for so many years, that today nobody is gonna walk over me. Or if you are, it’s because I want you to walk over me, sometimes I like that kind of shit lol

G: lol yeah

C: But you know, it is important to be in a place where I can control the way people perceive me. Things like gender are a lot about perception, being able to manipulate the way people perceive me has been fundamental to the way I am. Which is like– I’m whoever, it’s not like I’m anywhere, I am in a space where I am comfortable and happy but…

When we talk about success and talent, I feel… I don’t want my story to put any kind of pressure on, you know, the new generations, the girls are like 17, 18, I don’t want anybody to have any pressure to be successful in any concept that is not your concept of success. You can not let me or anybody else make the determination of what success should be for you. And you know, we talk about success like– Oh, Gogo is a successful designer, Cecelia is a successful trans woman of colour– What the fuck is success. That’s not success, that’s my idea of success. Maybe being a designer is her idea of success, it doesn’t mean everybody has to be successful… Maybe being successful for you is doing your nails, painting them green–

G: Getting out bed–

C: Yeah. We have to be very careful when we talk about trans people, specifically trans women, when we talk about success. Let’s not define success for others. Let people define success for themselves. I feel like… I’m always overdoing so much because for so many years I let this idea of success that wasn’t mine become mine. Nowadays I have to stop everything and say, hey, am I doing this because I want to or am I doing this because I want people to see me as this successful person.

So, I wanted to say that because we keep talking about success and talent, and you know, those are very individual concepts that we should not translate to others. You know? Ideas of success and talent are very different for everybody. I come across this concept of “every trans woman can get to be successful” like yeah, they can be successful as what they think success is. Not as anybody’s idea of what success is. Did I repeat this so much?

G: No, I think I kind of, for me, I feel like if some little baby trans person sees some stupid shit that I’m doing and then they think, wow i’m not gonna kill myself today! Then that’s totally enough for me, that is success. And like you said I think it’s important for us to recognize that success means something different for everybody.

C: Yeah there’s enough pressure that we have to be careful not to put more pressure with this idea that we have to be successful. This pressure to look a certain way, to act a certain way, to do these hormone treatments, you know… I’m old school, it was very square, the idea of being a trans woman, you do this this and this, you’re gonna be this kind of woman and you’re gonna look this kind of way and it took me so many years to be like… hmmm maybe this is not what I wanted to be, maybe I didn’t want to look like Sofia Vergara, I mean she’s beautiful. Maybe because I’m Latina, everybody thinks I should be this kind of woman… which usually is Sofia Vergara in everybody’s minds, and I think she’s beautiful, but I dont have to be like her or look like her.

When I’m like, ‘I want to change my tits’, people are like ‘oh you’re going bigger?’ And I’m like, no I want to go smaller, I don’t want tits actually… and people are like why?! I just dont! All the big tits, big ass, long hair with highlights is not what I wanted to be totally, it’s mostly what everybody around me thought I should be. You know if you have big tits and a big ass we like you better, we’re gonna accept you because you conform to this… And I did that for so long… that I’m at a point where I can allow myself to let go of all that. Does that make sense?

G: Yeah I sometimes think about that too, where I’m just like… do I even need to be on hormones? Do I need to grow my hair? And you know it’s difficult as trans women when you walk into a place and you know in your mind, oh, if I’m not wearing high heels, a pencil skirt and lipstick, people are going to misgender me. If I am, then they’ll always expect you to look like that, and if you don’t, then they’re like, ‘oh, are you going back’?

C: Yeah… there’s no way to win. But again when you get to my age, I don’t know why I keep putting it on age. I think when you get to my age you may be able to get to a point where you’re like fuck that, fuck everything. Whatever. But I dont think I would be here if it wasnt for you guys, and this is the part where I thank you all helping me seeing you girls.. These fucking girls they just don’t give a fuck about anything. You know me, not shaving my armpits…

G: (lol) This actually freaks me out, but as a political statement, I have to have it.

C: How many girls are like, I dont care! And seeing all these young trans girls that have been able to live their femininity in a way that they want to and not in a way that was imposed has been fundamental in me being able to be like, i’m gonna shave my head and whatever. And letting go of that stereotype and this gaze… That’s so important to me. And your clothes say a lot about that. I felt super feminine when I was wearing them without feeling the stereotype of femininity that was imposed on me and that’s so cool. Maybe it’s just because I love you. (lol)

G: I’m glad you felt that way.

”

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