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Happy International Women’s Day form the General herself!

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Seriously, Tumblr 🙄

Of course.

When a customer walks by my office:

So this gets flagged, but this p*rn blog doesn’t.

Hey, Tumblrstaff:

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Also he apparently liked the NASCAR and Disney experience so much that he was the voice of the bad guy “Chick Hicks” (what a name) in the original Cars.

Love how they tried to do his eyebrows.

Michael Keaton in Herbie Fully Loaded

For @vandeverefan, apparently Toy Story 3 wasn’t Keaton’s first Disney movie, it was this one.

I watched this movie a thousand times when I was a kid on DVD and I didn’t knew about Michael Keaton back then. I didn’t know how famous he was before this film, he wasn’t from my generation.

However, as soon as I started watching more Keaton content this last decade (Spotlight, Spiderman Homecoming), something in my head told me: ‘Hhhmm, why do I have the feeling that I saw this actor on Herbie?’ So I made my research, and yes, he was on Herbie Fully Loaded, omg! He did a good job playing this Ray Payton character, he really can do drama on a Disney flick.

And yes, I’m back on Tumblr ;)

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44, and loving it.

Reblog if you’re over 20 and still read/write fan fiction.

I’m curious!

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Hallelujah!!

Acting on a whim, I looked at a folder in my email account.

And I found a draft of Chapter 13 that has two more scenes!!!

What’s especially wonderful is these were two scenes whose details I don’t remember well, so it was going to be impossible to rewrite them as well as I wanted to!  Now I don’t have to!

The other missing scenes I wrote more recently, so I remember more about them.  They won’t be exactly as they were, but I can come close!

I can’t put into words how happy and relieved I am!!

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I believe in you, it sucks but you got this!

My Reaction When Chapter 13′s Draft Was Deleted.

What I wanted to do:

What I did instead:

This morning:

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Once again, best birthday present!

Happy (day after) Birthday, Jaucat!

@jaucat​ , as a belated present, here’s V.A.’s first scene in Chapter 13 (sorry, still needs polishing).

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“You missed the first half of the show.”  Keeping exasperation from his voice strained Vandevere.  He had heard the oohs and ahhs of ten thousand people behind him.  Remington had been deaf to it. “Seen it.”  J. Griffin Remington flipped through the pile of newspapers on the table in the lounge behind the Colosseum’s VIP seats. “You add anything since last time?  No.  Then I’m missing what?  Nothing, is what.”

Tonight, it was just Vandevere, Remington and Mrs. Remington in the VIP section.  V.A. regretted this choice.  The aim had been to focus Remington on the show, not on schmoozing.  Instead, there was no buffer between them, as Mrs. Remington had announced the need to powder her nose.  That had been before the Intermission.   Vandevere waved his walking stick impatiently. “Those acts alone are reason enough to understand why Dreamland attracts millions from around the world.  Even without Dumbo–”

“Without the animal you’ve got shit.  Far as I’m concerned. Maybe you shouldn’t have over-extended yourself.  Huh?”  Remington snapped a paper in Vandevere’s frustrated face.  "You seen the headlines?  Nobody’s buying this flying elephant act.“

One paper yelled, FLYING ELEPHANT OR PIG IN A POKE?  Another screamed,   FABULOUS FAKERY.  WAS DUMBO DONE WITH MIRRORS?  A third declared, PACHYDERM IMPOSSIBILITY.  MASS HYPNOTISM THE ONLY EXPLANATION FOR DUMBO.

“What about this?”  Remington slapped the papers with his hand.  "Your posters say ‘Believe.’  No one does.  For this you want me to stick out my neck?  Who’ll spend five bucks for a fake?“

"You saw –”

“I’m beginning to doubt what I saw.” Good christ, thought Vandevere.  "The headlines are nothing. Skepticism sells newspapers.  If anything, they bring in the crowd.  More people want to see something fail than succeed.“

”I don’t. This better work, Vandevere.  Understand?  You better make me happy.“

The financial magnate peered around, scowling.  "Why does it take women so damn long to powder their noses?”  To the usher he barked, “Get my wife.  I don’t care if you have to go in the powder room and peel her off the can.”

You’ve seen the miracle and remain indifferent, the impresario thought, bitterly.  What in god’s name can move you?  Can Milly’s new act do it?

Milly herself could, but Vandevere would slit Remington’s throat if he even suggested he’d give a loan in exchange for so much as a kiss from her. The only other thing that moved Remington was money.  Tonight had to prove that people would buy tickets.   Vandevere glanced at his wristwatch. He’d sent Sotheby to fetch Milly.  Colette had refused to tell him what clothes she’d selected for the girl.  Since Milly hated being stared at, no doubt she’d reject anything glamorous for something politely decorous. V.A. didn’t care; Milly could wear a burlap bag and he’d salivate.  But she’d be seated in the wanna-be VIP area, where he would barely see her.  The section was for ambitious suck-ups, lesser known business owners, up-and-coming Broadway and film stars, and city councilmen with aspirations.  They fought for hierarchy like dogs over a slab of beef.  V.A. didn’t want Milly to be their meat. If she wore simple, understated clothes they’d be confused why she was among them, judge her as an outlier, and no doubt attempt to insult and dominate her. She could certainly look after herself – he knew that well!  – but this was a level of Society with which she had no experience. To distract himself, Vandevere pointed out to the banker, “We’re sold out.” “For tonight. So what?” Remington grunted, fiddling with the chain of his pocket watch. “Tonight’s VIPs and Society and the press and your employees.”

“The Colosseum seats ten thousand, and over three thousand in tonight’s audience are every day people. We sold affordable tickets to the general populace.  Regular people are Dreamland’s bread and butter.  If they enjoy it, and tell everyone they know–” “Huh.  As long as they stay in the lower seats, where they belong.”  J.G. bellowed, “Goddammit, where’s my wife?”

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Yes!!! Here we go!!

The Opening Scene of Chapter 13 of “Baby, Mine.”

For Valentine’s Day (it stills needs polishing).  Not able to write today because still doing Pre-Spring Cleaning.  Apologies to those waiting for this chapter!!  Thank you for waiting!!

*************

Chapter 13, Baby, Mine.

Colette beamed. “Tu es magnifique.”

Milly didn’t know enough French yet to translate it in her head.  But the woman’s shining eyes spoke as much as her words.

Is that me? she thought, astonished. Though her entire life she’d witnessed the transformation of perfectly normal faces into magical, frightening, and comedic ones, Milly Farrier had never personally experienced it, with the exception of Halloween makeup with tiger stripes or a ghost’s white face.  But the entire point of that was to been seen as something she absolutely wasn’t.

But this…. Colette’s touch with powder and rouge had been light.   Yet the face Milly saw was so different from what she expected.

When did she ever look in the mirror?  Even when brushing her teeth or braiding her hair Milly was always preoccupied with her thoughts.  What reason did she ever have to look at herself?

Until now her mental image matched how her father treated her, a young teen, all elbows and knees.  She never considered how her body had changed, even when answering its demanding Call.

The emerald dress revealed how lush her breasts and hips had become.  The makeup flattered the definition of her high cheekbones, large eyes, and full lips.  She felt naked without a brasserie under the dress’ supportive bodice, with panties, not bloomers, which were no more than a whisper of silk.

Colette had said her legs had no need of stockings.  The open shoes covered in green sequins made her two inches taller, emphasizing the curve of her calves and giving her a heightened perspective in more ways than one.

Her freshly washed hair fell loose almost to her waist.  When had it grown so long?  Milly realized she’d worn it in braids nearly her entire life, partly to keep it out of her way, and partly because of Mom’s warnings about its tight curls drawing hostile attention.  It hadn’t been cut since before Mama died. “I look all right?” she asked. “Milly, you are already a girl to gather the praise of men’s eyes.  But now, you are Cendrillon of Charles Perrault.  Non, this one you do not know by that name.  In English, the girl of the cinders.”

“I don’t want to be Cinderella,” Milly blurted, blushing.  "I don’t want to be saved from my life.  I love my life.  I don’t need a prince.“ Colette watched the girl chew her lower lip.  She recognized the turmoil, though she herself had eagerly and happily embraced her coming of age.   God knew her family of devout Catholics had given her every warning, but Colette had never hesitated to pursue all her passions.  From the age of seventeen she’d had lovers spanning from her own age to men older than Vandevere.  Heartbreak and joy came and went..It wasn’t religious dictates or fears of society’s condemnation that Colette saw in Milly’s merciless judgement of her reflection.  It was the terror that this would now be the definition of her, with all its limitations.

”Oui, you are you, not a fairy tale,“ said Colette.  "Now!  The piece de resistence.” Colette took a square, black velvet box from Milly’s bed and opened it.

Sparkles exploded from it.  Lying on black velvet was a diamond necklace with a large emerald pendant surrounded by more diamonds, and matching, dangling clip earrings.

Milly’s eyes widened at the magnificent jewels.  But her hand instinctively, protectively, touched the key at her throat.

I can’t wear both.

She hadn’t removed the key since Mama, with her dying breath, gave it to her.  Not when washing in the tin tub in Joplin before Max bought Mrs. Jumbo, not bathing in the white porcelain tub here, not when she swam in his pool.  In the mirror, Milly watched her fingers trace the key, over and over.

She had carried grief for her mother for almost two years.  If she removed this, was it a betrayal?  Would she lose the memory of her mother, and of her father before he was broken? Mom said there’d be times when my life felt locked behind a door.  She said when I have that feeling, imagine that door and just turn the key.

The key didn’t help in deciding which door to choose.  It was a symbol of a time before.  Before Dumbo.  Before him.

If I truly choose to go through that door…there’s no going back.  Who I was when Mama gave me this will be…not gone.  Evolved.  Isn’t that what Darwin would say?  I’m not losing who I was.  I’m…adding.  I change, and I can’t know exactly how.  I’ve imagined over and over how bad it can go wrong.  Because things went wrong for so long I can’t dream of things going right.  There’s only one way to learn.  I can stay ignorant and stuck.  Or…. I can answer the Call, finally.

Colette dared not speak while she read conflict in the young woman’s face. “Did he give these to–” Milly began.

“Non. These were not a gift from anyone.  Except from myself, to myself.”   Colette grinned with satisfaction as she raised her chin.  "The Queen of the Heavens can buy herself treats.  But these, like the dress, he has never seen.“  Softer, she assured the girl, "They will be new to his eyes.” Milly griped the key.  "Please help me take this off,“ she asked, quickly, before she lost her resolve.

Deftly, Colette reached under Milly’s hair and unclasped the chain.  As it slipped from her Milly realized that, for the first time in almost two years, her neck was bare. She closed her eyes and felt the cool weight of the new necklace embrace her, the tight pinch of the earrings on first one, then the other earlobe, and the slide of the ring on the middle finger of her left hand. She had locked herself in a chrysalis of mourning and foreboding.  She opened her eyes to what had emerged.  Blinking rapidly to avert the moisture threatening the light touch of mascara, Milly grinned from ear to ear.

Colette smiled, relieved and pleased.  "Your hair. How shall we do?”

Milly inhaled and set her jaw.  "I want to keep it like this.“

In Paris Milly’s hair would have caused exclamations of admiration.  Men would have followed her down the streets,  begging to kiss it.  The French woman well knew what reaction it could evoke in Dreamland.   Milly’s determined expression proclaimed she knew even better, and refused to be afraid.

Milly sat at her desk as Colette combed through her hair with the pick Vandevere had given the girl when she used his shower.

Colette placed an iridescent peacock blue cape on Milly and raised its hood.  She peered inside.  "Are you ready?”

Milly nodded, trying not to nibble away the gentle touch of Vaseline on her lips. When the door opened at the appointed time Sotheby looked professional and polished, his hat set level on his head.  "Good evening, Miss  Farrier. Mr. Vandevere wishes you to ride to the Colosseum —“ His mouth dropped open. From the depths of the silk hood huge, green eyes blinked back.  Her lips shimmered as she said,  "Oh, Mr. Sotheby, thank you.  But it’s not far. I don’t want to put you out.”

“It is not an inconvenience.”  Sotheby found it extremely difficult to speak.  "It is an honor.“

Sotheby’s strange tone made Milly squint.  His behavior around her had changed, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly how.  She smiled as reassuringly as she could.  "Thank you.”  Self-conscious, she shrugged and laughed.  "I’m as ready as I’ll ever be!“ . Oh, you are very ready, Colette thought, watching them depart. But is V.A. ready for you?  Knowing she’d done well, Colette chuckled, then set off for her own transformation.

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Happy Valentine’s Day to Me!

From Russia with love...

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Love comes in all shapes and sizes. Don’t knock it til you try it.

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So a friend of mine sent me this for my birthday:

I said I was so glad to be a Solo.

My significantly younger brother responded with this:

He may be right.

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Today is my Obama birthday! I think it’s going to be a great year. My goal is to be able to afford this :

By next year.

Wish me luck!

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@vandeverefan & the rest of the Villy Dreamers

Shit they found us!!!

Me writing a very niche au, that caters to mostly me(and possibly eight other people)

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OMG, now that’s a dress. Old school glamour done right! ❤️❤️❤️

FLORENCE PUGH 2020 Vanity Fair Oscar Party — February 9

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@vandeverefan He is looking really good tonight.

Michael Keaton Supposedly Will Present Tonight!

Hey, Keaton watchers!  I’ve heard he’s supposed to be a presenter, but not for what.  Of course, this could be wrong, or plans could change.

So gab some munchies, maybe some drinks, cuddle up and keep watch!

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Beautiful

V.A. Quote.

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This is amazing! No such thing as too high. Can we keep him?

VAV Cosplay.

Found on Twitter.

VAV on the Throne.  I love it!