#awns thanks francy! this is what i needed

[gojosexual]

🌹 That's the flower of positivity and love, because you deserve it. Also the 🐶 dog of happiness is barking at you to tell how special and important you are, and how grateful he is for you being alive ❤

[thehelpermouse]

Promise

“Oh goodness, Mrs. Ashtoreth thank goodness you’re here. It’s Warlock, I’m not sure you’ll be able to get him to school today, it’s fine dear. He’s just so upset. He won’t speak to me. I’m running late for some wives brunch. Terribly boring work, wish I could stay, please do have a talk with him.” Mrs. Dowling brought Nanny Ashtoreth up to speed and just as quickly she was out the door. 

She hadn’t let the nanny know where to find Warlock, not that she’d known herself, but she didn’t need to. The Dowling mansion had no shortage of recreational rooms to hide in when you wanted a spot of privacy, but Warlock always escaped to his treehouse when he was upset. So Nanny smoothed down her black jacket with gloved hands and walked the length of the marble hallway and out to the garden. 

It was still just eight A.M., too early for Azira-Brother Francis to be out tending to the garden, still gleaming wet with dew. Still, Mrs. Ashtoreth scanned the lawn through her sunglasses, as if she expected that he might be out on the patio for morning tea. Perhaps he saw Warlock and went to ask him what the matter was. Nevertheless, she would go see for herself. 

Warlock was huddled in the corner of the treehouse when his Nanny reached the top foothold of the ladder. “Go away, you don’t know the password!” he shouted without looking back, folding his arms tightly around himself.

“I’ve never needed one before, dear,” she said cocking an eyebrow. Warlock’s shoulders lowered and he turned to her, sniffling hard before wiping his nose on his sleeve. Usually, Nanny would scold him for such a thing, but instead, she gave him a sympathetic look. 

“Whatever is the matter my little prince of darkness?” she cooed, closing the trap door beneath her. 

“Stupid grown-up stuff,” Warlock mumbled, scooting across the floor to his Nanny’s side. She opened her arms and let him curl up into her side. She didn’t often coddle the boy, but there were special exceptions, usually the grown-up stuff.

“And it’s nothing you couldn’t solve with a little good old fashioned manipulation? Blackmail perhaps?” Nanny asked. She had taught Warlock many ways to deal with obstacles for a favorable outcome. There were few problems that couldn’t be solved by finding the right angle. Children’s feelings were an exception.

Warlock shook his head and snuggled closer into his Nanny’s bosom. She pet his hair allowing him to just wallow in self-pity for a moment. Warlock looked up at his nanny just as she pushed his bangs out of his face. His eyes were red and still teary. “Don’t ever fall in love with my father, Nanny,” he croaked.

Nanny laughed then. “My dear, I would never!” she chuckled. He wasn’t amused.

“Today mommy excused the blonde maid. She yelled at her and called her a whore and when I asked why she said she had to fire her because she loved father too much.” Warlock explained. “I don’t ever want you to have to leave, so you must promise you won’t ever love my father,” he demanded, clinging more tightly to her.

Nanny Ashtoreth’s face softened then, in a way that was both unlike her and entirely her in a way he couldn’t place. “My darling, I could never ever love you father. I promise to you that will never change,” she assured him. “Do I ever lie to you?” she asked.

“Never, ever, Nanny,” he admitted. 

“Wonderful. Now your mother has given us permission to play hooky for the day. How shall we spend it?”

The two got ice cream and played with fireworks on the tennis court for a while. Later in the afternoon Warlock was once again, content to run around the lush green lawn out in the gardens, pretending to be a king and a conqueror, a knight, and a monster. 

Nanny sat under the awning sipping a tall glass of iced tea, likely laced with a dash of something extra. Knelt close by, Brother Francis tended to the hydrangeas, laughing as Nanny chattered to him now and again, and suddenly Warlock knows where he recognizes that soft look on his typically stern Nanny’s face. The expression is love, and now he is secure that Nanny can love no one more than himself and Brother Francis.

[pandorica0011]

Christmas Time Blues 

Word Count: 2,182 (I didn’t mean for it to be this long lol)

There was just two weeks left until Christmas. 

Well, thirteen days, twelve hours, and fifty-nine minutes, to be exact. Not that Alfred was keeping track or anything. There was no reason to anymore; everyone he had invited to his Christmas party had turned him down. They all claimed “something came up.” What could be more important than his traditional Christmas Extravaganza? Everyone went to that! Every year! What would he do with all the decorations and food he was planning on making now? Even Mattie said he couldn’t help him make his favorite maple flavored candy. Mattie would never turn that down! 

With a sigh, Alfred plopped down onto the couch. He supposed it was a good thing he sent out those invitations two weeks early. What a waste it would have been to have had everything set up only to be left to clean everything up himself when no one showed up. 

No matter, he’d make the most of it. He still had AJ, at least. His sweet Golden Retriever would no doubt love to spend more time with Alfred. They could play that new video game Alfred just bought, they could make cookies, and homemade dog treats! Yeah, who needed everyone else, all Alfred needed was AJ. As if to reciprocate this sentiment, AJ hopped onto the couch and settled next to Alfred with his head in Alfred’s lap. 

…

Christmas Eve...

The line for the checkout was taking way too long for Alfred’s taste. He would have used the self-checkout station, but there was a long line for those too. This had to be the only thing he had to hate about the holidays. Everyone was packed in like sardines. There was no way in, and no way out. It would be ages before he could get his groceries taken care of. How is it that so many people waited until the last minute for gifts? 

This year, decorating had taken Alfred only a few hours as opposed to the two days he usually spent sprucing up his two story house from top to bottom, and inside and out. He was only looking to impress AJ anyway, and AJ was always impressed with him. His decorations consisted of a stocking for him and one for AJ, their respective names written on them in blue and red glitter. His house smelled like gingerbread thanks to the wax warmer Francis had given him last year as a Christmas gift. He wrapped a garland around the rails of the staircase and put up his huge Christmas tree, which AJ helped decorate, and Alfred placed a bowl full of candy canes and hot chocolate packets. This Christmas was at least going to be a cozy one. On the outside, Christmas lights bordered the roof and awnings, plastic candy canes lined the walkway up to the house, a snow man-one made of actual snow-stood on the snow-covered lawn wearing a beanie, mittens, and a scarf. 

When he could finally pay for his things and go home, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He stowed his things away and sat behind the wheel before pulling his phone out. It was a message from Arthur. It read: 

Are you busy later tonight?

It was weird, to say the least. Arthur didn’t text him unless Alfred messaged him first. It also frustrated Alfred. Sure, everyone bailed on him because they had other plans, but on the day he had plans to do nothing more than spend the evening cuddling with his dog, he’s asked if he has plans? No doubt an invitation to do something last minute because Arthur’s plans fell through. No, that wasn’t fair at all. He slipped the phone back into his pocket. This evening was his now; it was his and AJ’s. 

AJ greeted him at the door, jumping up at him and pawing the front of his sweatshirt. “Hey, buddy. You ready for the best Christmas Eve ever?” The dog barked once in response and sat back to stare at Alfred expectantly. Alfred ran his hand through AJ’s furry head and behind his ears. “That’s right, boy.”

The rest of the evening, Alfred baked cookies and dog treats with AJ sniffing happily at his side. He had given AJ a little Santa hat and let him sit the ottaman he had dragged to the kitchen to let him get a better look. His Bluetooth speaker blasted traditional Christmas songs that made Alfred’s heart sink a little.This would be his first Christmas alone. Well, not completely alone, but alone enough that he missed the crowd of friends that gathered at his house every year. Looking to his living room now, he realized just how spacious and empty his house really was. 

His phone vibrated a couple times and his music paused. More messages. Alfred wiped his hands on his pants and reached for his phone. The messages were from Arthur. And Francis and Matthew? But why? He had a couple from each person. From what he could read, they really wanted to get a hold of him. A part of Alfred didn’t want to answer them. They didn’t deserve to hear from him when they so rudely cancelled on him and his awesome party. He placed the phone face down and let the music play once more. 

While Alfred waited for the cookies to bake, he and AJ took to the couch to watch some Christmas movies. The only thing he found were Hallmark movies and, even though he didn’t really hate them, he grew sick of watching the same thing over and over again. Luckily he had a couple of DVD’s of movies he did enjoy. He grabbed some homemade popcorn balls and gave AJ some treats to munch on. 

Alfred had gotten through most of the movie when a few sharp raps echoed through the cavernous living room, making him jump and catching AJ’s attention. Oh god, it was a ghost wasn’t it? The ghost of Christmas Past. What did Alfred do to deserve this? The knocking came again. 

“Please go away, Mr. Ghost. I didn’t do anything wrong! Ask AJ!” He pleaded, burying himself into the cushions. 

“Oh please, I can name at least three times that make your claim a complete lie,” a familiar voice answered. 

This ghost sounded oddly like..

Arthur. 

Alfred groaned. Great, so much for a silent night. “Go away.” 

“Alfred Francis Jones, you will open this door immediately,” Arthur demanded, his tone making him sound like he was Alfred’s dad or something. 

“Why should I? Don’t you have somewhere to be?” 

“As a matter of fact, I do. And so do you.” 

Alfred rolled his eyes. “No, you all cancelled on me. I’m not going to be your second choice. Go bother Francis or something.”

Arthur gave a loud sigh and after a few seconds of silence, Alfred breathed a sigh of relief. He was finally gone. 

There was a sound of keys jingling and the door clicked open. Damn, he had forgotten about the extra key he had given Arthur. Why did he even give him that stupid spare key? It wasn’t like he visited all that often. 

Arthur invited himself in and stood with his arms crossed in front of Alfred. 

“Can I help you? Your kinda blocking the TV. Look, now how am I gonna know if the guy can actually catch Santa’s sleigh?” 

Arthur only quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve seen this movie thousands of times, you know how it ends. Now, get up.” 

“No.” 

“Alfred, you’re being immature.” 

“And you’re being an asshole, now move.” 

Arthur looked like he wanted to scream, but instead he took a deep breath and plopped himself down next to Alfred. He watched the movie with little interest, his arms still crossed. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I moved,” was Arthur’s only response. 

For the life of him, Alfred had no response to that. He turned back to the movie; it was almost over now, just a few more minutes left. They sat in silence until the end credits rolled in. Alfred looked back to Arthur. He was dressed in a red argyle Christmas sweater, a pair of khakis, and black dress shoes.  

Arthur was watching him silently. He knew full well Alfred didn’t like silence. After a few agonizing seconds, he spoke. “Can I talk now?” 

Alfred nodded, unsure where this was leading. “Hold on, I gotta get the cookies out of the oven.” 

They both walked to the kitchen and Alfred pulled the cookie trays out with an oven mitt. He left them on the counter to cool. 

Arthur cleared his throat and turned his body to face Alfred. He leaned into the countertop before opening his mouth to speak. “See, we all got to talking, and we love your parties; they’ve become a tradition of sorts, but we decided we’d take a different approach this year. Something smaller, perhaps. Something we could all contribute to.” 

Alfred nodded, but couldn’t help but still feel a bit betrayed. “And you couldn't have just told me that? You guys just bailed on me with no explanation.” 

Arthur shook his head and reached over to pull Alfred into an embrace. It was only then that Alfred realized he had been crying, his tears soaking through Arthur’s sweater. “I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t think it would hurt you so much.We wanted to surprise you.” 

AJ joined them in the hug, placing his paws on Alfred’s chest and licked his tears away. Arthur held him by his shoulders. “Now, now. Enough moping, we have a party to get to.” 

Alfred wiped his face and ran up stairs with a huge smile on his face.They hadn’t forgotten him. He almost started crying again. He pulled on his favorite ugly Christmas sweater and nicest shoes. He ran back down to the kitchen, but stopped short and turned to Arthur. “Wait, shouldn’t I bring something? You said we’re all contributing, right?’” 

“Yes,” Arthur thought for a moment and looked down at the still-hot cookies. “But I think you’ve got that covered.” 

Not long after, Alfred, Arthur, and AJ were on their way to Matthew’s house. 

When they arrived at the familiar house Alfred bolted to the front door and knocked. A few seconds later a muffled “coming” could be heard before the door was pulled open and Matthew stood in his own ugly Christmas sweater and a Santa hat. “Mattie!” Alfred ran forward and pulled Matthew into a tight hug. 

Matthew laughed and returned the hug, patting at Alfred’s back. “Hey, Al.” 

Arthur could be heard behind them struggling to get a hold of AJ. The dog had jumped out of the car before Arthur could grab his leash, and he raced around the car. Arthur couldn’t keep up and fell in the snow.

Matthew gasped and Alfred laughed before pulling away from the hug and whistling to AJ, who came running, leaving Arthur to pick himself up. “Just lovely,” he grumbled. Alfred helped him brush the snow off his sweater and the trio and AJ made their way inside. 

The usual group of friends were waiting. Ludwig and Feliciano sat by the fire as Feliciano talked animatedly, Yao and Ivan admired the Christmas tree while sipping from Christmas themed mugs, and Kiku helped Francis cook and set up the dining table. 

Alfred released AJ and the dog ran straight for Matthew’s Samoyed, Kumajiro. The two pounced and ran around the living room. “Aw they missed each other,” Alfred said.

Matthew gave Arthur a sheepish look. Arthur gave him a knowing look and nodded. 

“So, Alfred,” Matthew began. He cupped his hands together in what looked to be an attempt at motivating himself to speak. “We’re so sorry we didn’t tell you what we had planned.” Matthew could be such a worrywart sometimes. 

“It’s alright, Mattie. I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” Alfred said, “ I’m glad it was surprise, this party looks awesome. Oh, that reminds me, I brought cookies.” Alfred handed his tupperware of cookies to Matthew. 

Francis slipped out of the kitchen, pulled off his apron, and gave Alfred a big hug. “Mon cher, I’m so glad you decided to come!” 

Everyone else turned to him and greeted him warmly with a chorus of “hi!” and “so glad you made it!” Alfred felt a bit embarrassed that he had even doubted his friends. They didn’t ditch him, they were only trying to surprise him, and it definitely worked. Everything was so amazing. 

Matthew’s house, although a bit smaller than Alfred’s, was big enough that the decorations and food everyone had brought in fit perfectly. Wait, Alfred wasn’t told to bring anything for decorations. “Uh, should I have helped decorate?” he asked. 

Matthew looked confused for a moment before laughing. “Nah, you’re good. You and AJ being here brightens the atmosphere enough,” he said, giving Alfred a pat on the back. “Now come on, I got some of that Christmas stuffing you love so much.” 

Alfred wasted no time in running into the kitchen after him. 

[cielizzydefencesquad]

Uh... Joanne x Lizzie? Joanne is a cutie pie and deserves more love 💗

Joanne x Lizzy is the ship I didn’t know I needed but am now in love with

Who is more likely to catch a cold? Dear sweet Joanne XD he doesn’t have a terribly strong constitution but wanted to try and impress Lizzy by taking her to the Summer Fair in Bath one warm June day. It was probably the most fun Joanne ever had—Lizzy held his hand willingly and together, they visited the various booths and stalls, immersed in the joyous cacophony of sound and color all blurred together in one heady swirl of merriment and summer sky.

But when evening rolled around and the skies darkened from delphinium blue to royal violet, raindrops began to fall from the heavens, soaking them through. Joanne’s cheeks were stained a permanent red from how the diaphanous material of Lizzy’s dress clung to her soft curves, how she laughed cheerfully as they ran to seek shelter under a nearby awning.

It was here that Lizzy turned to Joanne, lips warm and soft as they pressed against his cheek (and he wished, a touch embarrassedly, that she might move her mouth just a tiny bit closer, that he might have the courage to do so himself, so their lips might—just might—brush together). “Thank you for the best time, Joanne.” She murmured against his burning skin.

He could smell summer roses and pink cotton candy on her lips.

(And yes, the fever and cold he got the very next day was absolutely worth it.)

Who hogs the blankets? Joanne—he has a tendency to curl up on himself, sleeping in a fetal position on his side. He didn’t realize he was dragging the blankets with him and the moment he did, he was both embarrassed and horrified. What if…what if Lizzy thought he was lying? That he really did know what he was doing and just didn’t care? Because he did! He didn’t want Lizzy to think him thoughtless or crude or a…a liar like they did but—

“I don’t mind Joanne,” Lizzy began rearranging the comforter so that they both were covered. “It’s better now, isn’t it? We can sleep right next to each other so the blankets cover the both of us!”

Joanne didn’t dare breathe, didn’t dare move. “You—I…” he glanced away and then back at Lizzy, who was looking at him as if he…as if he mattered. “Are you sure?” He finally asked, a little afraid, a little hesitant, and so very much in love.

“I am.” She held out her hand, rose palm open. “Come to bed?” She asked, with soft eyes and a secret smile that made him want to dream of summers without end.

Who kills all the flowers? Neither. Joanne brings Lizzy bundles and bouquets of her favorite flowers (pink peonies) and ties them all with a green silk ribbon. He’s terribly insecure about the status of their relationship, constantly worried that Lizzy might leave him so he purchases beautiful and decadent gifts in an attempt to compensate for some invisible imbalance that, in Lizzy’s opinion, simply isn’t there.

Who eats all the candy before Halloween? Lizzy—but only because Joanne buys her her favorite Swiss chocolates by the boxful.

(That and he secretly likes kissing the chocolate off of Lizzy’s lips.)

Who takes the longest showers? Lizzy XD she’s a water babe and loves all forms of aquatic activity—swimming, boating, oceans, lakes, ponds, and yes, showers/baths.

Joanne doesn’t mind either. He loves using the bathroom right after Lizzy because it smells like her—roses and peaches and white sunshine.

Who goes to bed at 5am but wakes up at 8am? Joanne. But recently, the nightmares that used to terrorize him have been occurring less and less frequently.

(Joanne breathes in and the scent of late blooming roses and summer peaches fill his senses. He turns his cheek, lips brushing against the nape of her neck as Lizzy shifts in her sleep, folding herself into him as his arms come to wrap around her body, embracing her fully. It’s so easy to dream, he smiles softly, when she’s here beside me.)

Who makes sure the other has a healthy breakfast? Joanne. A habit he picked up at Weston that he’s never been able to shed.

But truthfully, Lizzy loves breakfast time with Joanne. They sit outside on the terrence balcony, a spread of warm croissants, hot chocolate, fresh cut fruit, soft-boiled eggs, and smoked hickory harm tempting them.

Conversation flows easily and smiles are readily exchanged.

What pets do they have? An Afghan Hound named Lady May and an Irish Setter named Timothy Westmond.

Wedding

Who proposes? Joanne.

“It…it isn’t as if you must say yes,” he tried, cheeks burning as paced back and forth, unable to look her in the eye. “It’s only—you’re wonderful. And beautiful, and—” He swallowed, trying to make some sense of his haphazard thoughts that were all jumbled together in a terrible, desperate array that he seemed unable to express. “You’re dazzling,” he breathed, eyes fixed on her soft parted lips. “Incandescent. You’re light personified and sometimes, when I look at you, it’s agony, Elizabeth. Because I don’t know why you would want to bind yourself to me when there are so many others out there who could adore you twice as well as I do—“

She rose, suddenly, and in three quick strides was standing before him, hands clutching his own as she brought them up to her cheek.

“I don’t want to be adored.” She whispered, eyes a wild fire of love and beauty and all the sweetest things in life. “It’s as mother said: I was born with an enormous need for affection and a terrible need to give it.” She pressed a kiss to his hand, etched with half-moon crescents from how tightly he’d clenched his fists. “And there isn’t a person on this world I want to love more than you.”

Who actually enjoyed the planning? They both do! Lizzy and Joanne are the connoisseurs of color, style, and taste.

Would their wedding be small or grand? Grand! Joanne, heir of the dukedom of Beaufort, and Elizabeth, daughter to the marquess of Scotney getting married would be the social event of the season. Anyone who didn’t receive a creme and gilt colored invitation would turn their noses at the affair all while begging friends and acquaintances who did receive an invite to please take them along.

Which guest was happiest to see them get married? Tough call but most likely Edward. Out of everyone on this earth, Joanne is probably the only one Edward would ever entrust his baby sister’s heart and affection to.

Children

How many children would they have? 5 or 6—a big family because Lizzy has plenty of love to go around and Joanne, who’d been a loner for so long, adores each and every member of his ever expanding family.

Would they adopt or have them naturally? Naturally.

Who is the strictest parent? Surprisingly, Joanne. He wants his children to grow up with morals and values, wants them to honor their commitments, respect their teachers, work hard towards the goals they want to achieve, and always treat others with the same dignity and kindness he wished someone (anyone) would show him at Weston. 

Are their children in homeschool or public school? Privately educated by tutors and governesses until they’re old enough to attend Weston.

(Yet when their bold, outspoken daughter Frances Claudia demanded the right to equal education, she cut her hair, stole her older brother’s clothes, and enrolled in Weston as Francis Dalles, a distant maternal cousin of Earl Phantomhive’s.

Joanne, upon discovering this, was more amused than horrified.)

Who is the favorite parent? They both are

Who checks on the kids in the middle of the night? They take turns. Some nights it’s Lizzy, other times it’s Joanne.

Who decorated the nursery? Lizzy and Joanne together. Pale blue walls with gold floral patterning, large crystalline windows to let in air and sunshine, gilt cradles with elaborate velvet draping, a collection of all the latest toys and trinkets from Funtom, and a bowl of red roses that Joanne replaces every other day.

[vintagemichelle91]

A Little Lesson in Healing: Chapter 2

Authors’ Note: Happy Sunday dear readers! Back with another little lesson on Rafael and Natalia’s healing process. We are so glad you guys enjoyed the first one, now here is another after Adam Conway and their trip back from Venice. Thank you so much for your amazing support!!! @rauliskafan and I hope you continue to enjoy!!!

**Italicized bits are from the past. 

           Freshly returned from Venice and jet-lag aside, Natalia somehow found the time to unpack and settle everything into place. Not wanting to put it off any longer, she sorted through some things that needed to be sent off to the dry cleaners. Maybe on his way to work, Rafael could drop the items off.

           Consumed with the task at hand, she still wasn’t ready to leave the enchanting city on the water behind. Because coming back meant that she had to face all the memories of those terrible days before Italy. The days where Adam Conway and Francis Devenue had reentered her life, had terrorized her… and her family.        

The violet gown remained in the same spot where she had left it. On the floor in the back of the closet. Natalia felt a shiver run up her spine when she laid eyes on the piece of purple fabric. In her heart, she knew she would never wear that dress again. Too many painful memories… not the sweet scenes of Venice but memories from her distant past, a troubled past she wished to forget and never think on again. She swore she would forget…

…but now she stood in the middle of the walk-in closet gripping the laundry basket tightly, turning her knuckles white.

How could she ever truly flee the images flickering through her mind?

She felt as if Devenue still had her in his power, his fingers digging deeply into her throat. Was the window closed? There was no air circulating around her, and she could feel her skin beginning to burn.

“Natalia?”

Struggling to find her voice, in desperate need of a fresh breath, Natalia let the basket fall to the floor, the voice of Adam knocking her down, of Devenue vowing to punish her for the other man’s crime flooding her mind.

“Stop it!” Natalia screamed as she bolted out of the bedroom, almost running right into Rafael.

“Natalia… wait!” Rafael called out, but she made a beeline for the front door. “Where are you going?”

“I have to get out of here,” she said weakly, grabbing a sweater and disappearing into the night without any further explanation, needing to escape the cage that seemed to reassemble, to trap her all over again.

           Rafael sighed against the door before entering. The outcome of the morning was not what he had expected. His name was cleared, and yet it was less than enough in the eyes of his new superiors at the DA’s office. A part of him thought it was ridiculous to head down there in his best three-piece suit and think they would automatically offer his old job again as if he had simply been away on some extended holiday.

           And yet, he hoped that he could right the ship and resume his life, to provide for his girls.

           Not to be. Not yet. Maybe never? Feeling like a complete failure, he wondered how he could face his girls now. Seemingly without a choice, Rafael let out an unsteady breath and opened the door before regret could get too tight a grip on him.

           “Atticus?” Natalia greeted as she descended the steps and flashed him a warm smile. “How did it go?”

           The eagerness in her voice set him slightly on edge. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint her. But…

“Not the news I wanted to hear.” Rafael loosened his tie with unnecessary force and walked straight over to the bar in need of a drink.

           “What did they say?” Natalia asked innocently, setting a few toys aside and watching her husband intently.

           “The powers that be are still in a flux, and they won’t lift the suspension anytime soon.” Rafael took a swig of the single malt scotch and immediately served himself another glass. All the while he avoided his wife’s concerned gaze.

           “Rafael, they’re probably just trying to sort some things out,” Natalia began to reason, but he shook his head.

           “There is nothing to sort out. I didn’t do anything wrong. But I’m the one still being held accountable for everyone else’s crimes!” Rafael’s voice grew louder, and he ran his hands through his hair as Natalia tried to quiet him.

           “Shhh… the girls are down for their nap.” Natalia moved closer and took the empty glass from his hand. “Atticus, even if you don’t back to Hogan Place, there will be other opportunities.”

           “No, my reputation is tarnished,” Rafael whispered harshly. “And the longer this lasts, the worse it gets.”

            “Atticus,” Natalia started, cupping his face in her small hands. “Everything will sort itself out. In the meanwhile, spend time with us.” She kissed his cheek sweetly. “I rather like having you around.”

           Unable to fight a strange feeling bubbling in his soul, Rafael glanced up and inched away from his wife. “I can’t… Natalia, I can’t do this. I can’t just sit here and stay idle forever.”

           “It’s not forever,” Natalia said. “Just a few more days in our ivory tower.”

           “It’s more like a cage,” he hissed. “And I don’t like feeling trapped.”

           “But, Atticus---”

           “Not now, Natalia!”

           She seemed taken aback as Rafael marched out of the townhouse, back into the chilly air without another word.

           He had no sense of direction as his feet pounded the pavement. The wind suddenly filling his lungs began to clear his head, and when he turned a corner, not realizing where he was, Natalia’s hurt face appeared in his mind’s eye. Along with the sharpest pang of guilt.

           He didn’t mean to snap at her like that. But this was his career, a career he had worked so hard for. Now it was slipping away through no fault of his own. Before the beauty that was Natalia entered his life, it was all he had to hang on to. And with it came a sense of purpose, a way of making wrongs right.

           It seemed the only way he could make a mark on a place called Earth, in a city named Manhattan.

           No longer true. Life was more than trials and motions and prepping witnesses for hours on end. His purpose was the beautiful schoolteacher, the family they had built. How could he ever lose sight of that?

           How could he say that he was sorry now?      

           Lacking an answer, he continued to trudge down the sidewalk when a storm broke out, and suddenly he was drenched. As the rain cascaded over his sorrowful form, Rafael ran across the street to a shop, ducking under the awning to avoid the deluge.

           Only when the door swung open did he realize it was a vintage record store. From which flew the strands of a familiar song. Hearing O soave fanciulla, he remembered the first night he took Natalia to the opera, the way her eyes lit up as she watched the stage and the way her pink silky dress felt against his skin in the moments when they skipped the second act.

Somehow even then, he understood that she was the missing piece to the puzzle that was his heart.

           How could he have walked away from her? A sudden waved of sadness washed over him as a cab sped off, the splash from a puddle staining his shoes. Even if the rest of this day existed as a testament to his other failings, he had to fix the one thing that mattered most lest the puzzle becomes a jumble of mismatched pieces once more, the organ only beating to keep him alive without the joy that was such a wonderful woman at his side, in that same heart.

           Running, growing wetter with each step, he finally found himself back before the townhouse for the second time that day.

           Ever so slowly, he entered.

           The warm, comforting scent of meatloaf filled his nose, and he saw the older girls setting the table for dinner.

           “Papi! You home just in time!” Violetta cried excitedly, rushing towards him as Rafael knelt to take her into his arms.

           “I missed you, muñequita,” Rafael said with a kiss to her cheek.

           “Me, too!” Violetta beamed. “But why you take an umbrella if you go out?”

           “Papi made a mistake,” he sheepishly admitted. “One he won’t make again.”

           Accepting the answer, Violetta returned to folding the napkins. And Rafael shuffled into the kitchen in search of his wife.

           “Mi hermosa flor?”

           Turning to face him, her face was soft, her lips a straight line. No doubt she wanted to give him a piece of her mind, and while he had no real excuse for his actions…

            “I’m so sorry for lashing out at you,” he began. “I was upset. Angry. But still, I never should have---”

           Shaking her head, the line of lips forming a smile, she circled her arms around his neck. “Nothing to apologize for,” she said. “You needed a moment to yourself. Now you’re home. Where you belong. That’s all that matters.” She kissed him sweetly and leaned her forehead against his.

           “It was still unfair of me to---”

           “What’s unfair is that you’re so soaked!” Natalia laughed, kissing him again.

           “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, seeking out her lips again. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

           “But there’s nothing to forgive,” Natalia assured him. And in that moment, Rafael felt his soul soothed, the bad feelings left out in the rain, and the perfect puzzle in place and the picture complete.

           Upon returning to the townhouse, Natalia noticed Rafael sitting on the steps, waiting. Knowing her husband, the man would have held vigil all night if necessary.

           “Are you alright?” Rafael asked, quickly approaching her the second their eyes locked. Suddenly feeling shy, she wrapped her sweater tighter around her body.

“Yes, I’m a little better,” she said.

           Rafael offered his hand to her, and she took his palm quickly. “You want to talk about it?”

           Natalia let out a shaky breath and sat beside him on the steps.

“I… when I saw the dress… it all came back,” she started. “It was just too much to take So I ran. And I… I’m so sorry.” Tears began to stream down her cheeks, and Rafael immediately held her to his chest.

           “Hey, shhh,” he whispered. “There’s nothing to forgive. You’re back. You’re home. And that’s all that matters.”

He tenderly kissed the top of her head, and Natalia released a heavy sigh, happy to have him close, longing to leave the past behind…

…and knowing that her heart would always mend when it beat in time with his.

[dragonbat2011]

Reaching Out ‘Til We Reach the Circle’s End—Chapter 6

For earlier chapters: https://dragonbat2011.tumblr.com/post/621379453957865473/reaching-out-til-we-reach-the-circles-end-toc

(Or read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24326794?view_full_work=true)

Rumple had known that his cover wouldn't hold up for long, but he certainly hadn't been expecting a confrontation this soon. He knew exactly the kind of man he had been, the same man he still was, deep down. And that man had learned early to tamp down any show of spirit, any display of temper, any hint of anger or resentment. That man cringed and groveled and kissed boots, hating himself for it, but knowing that it kept him alive and it kept him and his son safe. At least, it had until now. "I'm here to help," Rumple said. "Truly." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the contract. "A pledge of good faith?"

His younger self was still frowning, but he reached out and gingerly accepted the rolled-up scroll. As he unfurled it and began to read, his eyes widened. "How did you…?" His voice trailed off and his eyes grew hard once more. "So, you do mean to take him."

Rumple blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, no," his younger self said, his voice cracking a bit. "I saw the way you looked at him last night, for all you tried to hide it, and I wondered, but with this…." He shook the contract for emphasis. "Only three people knew that this document existed: myself, Fendrake, and my wife Milah. And she was lost to me years ago. I'd thought her dead, but if you've come here to—" Abruptly, he turned away. "We were happy together once," he said bleakly. "Before I was called to the front. Before I… Well, never mind that. I've heard tell that when a love dies, the lovers may well move on to another, but when they do, they often to gravitate toward those who remind them in some way of their first. Well, even I can see the resemblance, but you'll forgive me if I'm not flattered."

He could scarcely believe the turn this conversation was taking. "I-I'm not—"

"While things were never right between me and Milah after my return," his younger self continued as though Rumple hadn't spoken, "I know she loved our son. She'd never have left him if she hadn't been abducted. And I suppose, once she was free, she decided that she'd have a better life without me, so she never returned. And, I surmise that she's found h-happiness with you." Rumple tried to pretend that he didn't hear the sob in his younger self's voice. "Well, how can I blame her? For trying to do better and for wanting our son with her? But since she's been gone, Bae has been everything to me. And if you're thinking that now you've voided that contract, I'll just settle down with someone new and have another child to replace the one you mean to carry off, then you have no idea what it means to be a parent!"

It was a good thing that the band of ruffians who'd accosted her yesterday had been so unnerved by Rumple's little display (or so excited by the acquisition of her pendant) that they hadn't noticed her earrings. And an even better thing that she'd removed them before approaching the tavern last night and had the sense not to wear them in the open today. Unlike her pendant, the earrings weren't magical, but they were eleven carats worth of the finest emeralds Oz had ever produced. Zelena knew that if she needed to, she could sell them, but she'd need to find the right time and the right buyer.

With bandits about, it certainly wasn't going to be safe carrying large amounts of coin. And the sentry's reaction to her innocent queries had told her that a stranger looking to sell something as valuable as those gemstones was certain to arouse suspicion. She'd need to find someone who wouldn't ask too many questions. Or better yet, make the acquaintance of someone trustworthy who could handle the sale, perhaps in return for a cut of the proceeds. One thing was certain, though: she wasn't about to hand them over in exchange for tourist information or the privilege of looking up some information that ought to be common knowledge! Were there no schools in this Frontlands place? Were there no libraries—libraries open for any to peruse without having to petition some ducal flunkey for permission?

Well. Once she learned the way of things here, she had no doubt that her fortunes would take an upturn. She just needed to find her mother and show her that there were other ways to acquire power without becoming royalty!

Dismay rolled over her. She didn't have any sort of power right now, thanks to that Charlotte wench. But perhaps there was a way to get the pendant back. Or perhaps there was some other way to regain her magic. For pity's sake, she'd been using magic before she could walk; surely losing the pendant couldn't take that away from her permanently! Well. She could think about that after she'd found what she sought. Meanwhile, it was clear that she wasn't going to last long without some local currency; bartering hours of washing dishes for dinner and a room for the night was only a stop-gap.

She realized that she was fast approaching a market stall with a number of clearly serviceable-but-not-new garments dangling from its awning. Thoughtfully, she removed her cloak and approached. "I was wondering whether you'd be interested in buying this off me?" she asked with a hopeful smile when she caught the owner's eye.

In an earlier time—though later than this one—Rumple might have laughed aloud and at length at the sheer ludicrousness of his younger self's imaginings. As it was, he couldn't quite keep back a guffaw as he exclaimed, "What?"

"No," his younger self said, flushing a bit. "Please, don't play the fool. And don't think you can play me for one either. You've been a bit too familiar with things—and people—with which you've no reason to be. And what rich relation chooses to neither stay at lodgings befitting his status, nor make his presence known to those he seeks, but chooses instead to bed down with animals? And any fool can see you've a greater interest in Bae than you do in me. So, if you haven't come to take him from me, then why are you here?"

"To save him," Rumple replied, looking his younger self dead in the eyes. "And save you from losing him, I hope."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that if they haven't already lowered the draft age to fourteen, they'll do so in the next three months."

His younger self's eyes when wide and near-soundless cry escaped him as he half-doubled over. "You're certain?"

"I am. So, if you mean to flee with him or send him away, now's the time."

It was the wrong thing to say, and Rumple realized it the moment he saw his younger self's eyes narrow once more, and his face twist again in uncharacteristic rage.

"Send him away?" his younger self repeated. "With you, you mean? So, you are here to take him!"

"No," Rumple insisted. "I'm here to protect him! And you."

"Why? If you are my uncle, why magically appear now? You might have learned of my existence somehow, though how you could have known to make inquiries and track me down is puzzling, since you wouldn't have even had my name as a starting point. But if you're here to protect Bae, then that would mean you knew about him before you even came here. How? Who are you?"

"I told you," Rumple said, holding his hands up in a placating fashion, more than a little unnerved by the hysteria in his younger self's voice. "I'm—"

"No more lies! No evasions! I-want-the-truth! Tell me!"

"I'm you!" The words erupted from his throat and were past his lips before he even realized he'd answered. There was no way to call them back now.

For a moment, both men looked at one another, with near-identical stupefied expressions. Then, his younger self took a staggering step backward, stumbled, and nearly fell onto his stool. The look on his face could now best be described as stunned disbelief, as he tilted his head inquiringly toward his houseguest.

"I'm you," Rumple repeated more gently, nodding as though to confirm his words. "I'm you."

The cloak fetched two silver and Zelena strongly suspected she'd got the worse end of that deal. Still, one coin not only gained her access to the guild records, but even the services of a youth named Gragur who was presented to her as an apprentice clerk.

"I'm sorry, Goodwife," the teen said, coming to her table with an armload of scrolls. "There is no Princess Ava in the Northern Kingdom, presently. I even thought, well, not all spellings are standard, so I checked to see if maybe she spelled it with an 'E' or even an 'I'; pronunciations vary, too. But apart from the dowager queen Eva, daughter to Count Humboldt of the Eastern Escarpment Lands who married into their ruling house two generations ago, there's no Royal of that name there now."

"Dowager queen?" Zelena repeated. That couldn't be right. Ava… or Eva, no matter how one spelled it, had been a princess, but she'd become queen of Leopold's kingdom, not her own.

"Apparently, she's well-liked," Gragur said, unfurling another scroll. "At least, some of the minor nobility, them as hopes to curry favor with their higher-ups, have been naming some of their daughters after her. But as yet, no princess."

"Well… well, what about King Xavier of Eagle's Peak?" Zelena asked testily.

Gragur shook his head. "The king of Eagle's Peak is his Majesty Henry II, whom some call the Eagle's Talon." He frowned. "I believe…" He unrolled another scroll. "Yes, his third son is named Xavier, but he's unlikely to be crowned king with two brothers ahead of him and both with heirs of their own. Oh!" He pointed to another entry. "The crown prince, Francis does have a son by that name. Might he be who you mean? If so, it seems as though you're a bit early."

Zelena started to glower, but whatever retort she'd meant to snarl died on her lips. "A bit early," she repeated in an undertone. "A bit… Gragur?" She asked in a rather different tone of voice, "Do the merchants here treat with other realms? Might you have records from those lands as well?"

The youth nodded. "It's not as frequent, Goodwife. Finding passage between worlds is a costly affair and magic beans used to be far easier to procure. It does happen periodically, though."

"Could you show me any records you might possess here from Oz?"

Twenty minutes later, Zelena was stumbling out of the hall of records, her stomach churning as she felt as though she might faint. Although Gragur hadn't been able to provide detailed maps or genealogical tables, as he had for the kingdoms of the Enchanted Forest, he had shown her a trade agreement that had been signed between the Duke of Tower Cliffs and the Gillikins of Oz, just 'two years ago,' according to the young clerk. At first, Zelena had been annoyed. The Gillikin land was, ironically enough, Oz's 'northern kingdom'. And they had no business entering into trade agreements with anyone without clearing them with her first! She'd started reading the agreement to find out the names of the individuals who had brokered it, resolving that she would have quite a bit to say to them on her return—Oh. Of course. In this time, she wasn't yet the ruler of Oz. How could she have forgotten? She smiled a bit at her own folly, as she read on. But then, she'd come to the last paragraph, and the line, 'Signed and dated in the fifth year of His Majesty, King Pastoria of Oz,' and her smile dropped. The fifth year of... Pastoria? The name was vaguely familiar from the history lessons learned at her adoptive mother's knee. But his reign wasn't recent. He hadn't sat on Oz's throne since— Her blood suddenly ran cold. There had to be some other simple explanation for—

"Are you certain that this is only two years old?" she demanded. "It hasn't been misfiled?"

Gragur blinked. "I-I don't see how it could have been, but I'll inquire," he'd said. A few minutes later, he returned, escorting a woman some ten years Zelena's senior to her table.

"You're most fortunate, Goodwife," Gragur said, smiling. "I've the honor and fortune to present to you Mistress Ilona, one of the signatories to the agreement before you."

The richly-attired woman looked at her curiously. "I'm not sure why it's a concern to you, Goodwife, but yes, I was in Oz nearly twenty months ago and that trade agreement has been quite the boon to his Grace's armies. We may yet see the ogres routed by winter, if the shipments continue."

Zelena forced herself to smile, as she pushed back her chair. Then she bolted, pretending she didn't hear those two calling after her.

A bit early, Gragur had said. He'd spoken truer than he could have guessed! She was more than two hundred years early! She knew nothing about this period of history and nothing about her earlier antecedents. Her knowledge of her family tree began with Cora and she had no idea of the names of her grandmother or grandfather, let alone anyone who'd come before that.

She didn't even know her father's name; it had never been important before. But if she'd come this far back in time, then any chance encounter, any word she spoke, any action she undertook might somehow interfere with any one of the crucial meetings that needed to take place among all of the ancestors whose lineage she would bear. If she—even accidentally—killed one of her great-great grandfathers… If she paused to talk to her great-great-grandmother and inadvertently delayed her, so that she never met the man she should have wed… The slightest error, the slightest misstep, and she might erase herself from existence.

She'd gone back in time to change her past, but it had never occurred to her that in so doing, she might obliterate her future! And she couldn't very well ensure that her ancestors' lives continued unmolested when she had no clue who they even were!

She wanted to scream or sob or... she didn't even know what. But perhaps, she could figure it out on her long walk back to that inn. Because going by the way he'd reacted yesterday, it was very likely that she'd find Rumple in that area. And while she wasn't fool enough to confront him when he had his magic and she had none of her own, she knew that if she could discover his specific whereabouts, if she could discern what he was planning... Then she might yet be able to turn things to her advantage.

The temperature was beginning to drop, and she wished she still had her cloak, but she pressed her forearms to her sides and gripped her elbows as she turned to begin the long walk back to Pen Marmor.

[wizardswithin]

Wizards Within brings you Cosmic Leaping by Jan King

https://janais.wordpress.com/

FULL MOON in Aries, October 13, 2019 – Transforming power

Hello Dear Ones. Welcome aboard to Cosmic Leaping. The days are getting shorter and the world is getting more insane. What else is new? .Did you know that peace is a good thing? Oh, I know it makes no money. Oops!  I saw a spider working its way down from an awning to a hedge the other afternoon. It says the reality in my life is created by me so if I do not like it dig deeper and change it.  And things are not as they seem. A ha! “The time has come,” the Walrus said, “To talk of many things: Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax— Of cabbages—and kings— And why the sea is boiling hot— And whether pigs have wings.”. (Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass) Full Moon in Aries is just about ready to show its face and it may bring a feeling of being stuck. What can you do? Stop being entranced by the Matrix and start to take a major look within. What do you think? Are you ready to do that for a new beginning? Something came to me this morning as I opened my eyes ready to start my day. Something said stay still. I did and a whole scenario came to me and it was about astrology and how it is a basis for looking at oneself and one’s life. Many have no interest because they say it is against the Divine. In my life my mother who was a very spiritual church-goer presented me with a hardback book about astrology when I was ready to graduate from college. She said I needed to read this book so I would understand life and others who were in my life. I took the book and just went on. About 10 years later it showed up buried in a box, I opened it and my life changed. I was already seeing this but my brain was doing something else. I worked on charts with a pencil (remember them) and a notepad and proceeded with logarithms and calculations by hand. No computers back in the 80s. And my point is this. What do you know about the individual who you say you like or do not like? Did you know that by looking at a chart you can see anything about anyone? Just to give you an example—Donald Trump has his rising sign (Leo) in an anaretic degree (last degree of sign). That is fated. His Sun sign is in Gemini which means his mind is constantly working whether in a positive or negative depending on aspects to it. All those who hate him see him differently. His career is secure in Taurus. He needs no one since he is quite independent. And he will go after anything that matters to him in a concerned way. And beneath it all he has a deep knowing which he at most times he does not let out. Astrology does not lie. That is why the elite use it. A few items — Did you know that the entire human genome can be sequenced out of an MMR shot. Can that be part of what is causing AUTISM? Seattle public schools have stated there is no correct answer in math…and you are a racist if you claim that there is. Pope Francis wants to combine religion and it will be called Chrislam. Are you kidding me? How much crazier than someone asking “Why do we need 8 inch or 10 inch kitchen knives with points?” Where am I? So they shut down the power in parts of California and it isn’t because there are wildfires pending. If that is the case they could cut the tree branches away from the lines. And they are saying that Ham Radios will be outlawed. The Full Moon in Aries is upon us. And it is about bringing the harmony back into your life. Of course there are many aspects which will affect that process. The Full Moon in Aries comes in on Sunday, October 13, 2019 at 5:07pm EDT; 2:07pm PDT; 9:07pm GMT in 20 degrees 13’. The Sun is in the exact degree in Libra. The Full Moon and Sun are square to Pluto in Capricorn within minutes. The Full Moon Aries is trine to Jupiter in Sagittarius. Here we go with a conflict that can actually turn from fearing something to the betterment of your life and a new beginning. Watch for emotional confrontations as you wander through life at this time. Pluto is the transformer and at this time it will take you from the depths of your fears. Are you feeling threatened? It will bring you to a type of rebirth that will help you stand in your power. The bottomline is that you need to let things go. It is a time of rebalancing relationships and letting that passion flow. It is all about emotions which are deep so will you go with the expression of them or will you blow up and blame? Weathering more storms may be on the horizon. And any ideas that were rejected before may come to pass since Mercury in Scorpio is sextile to Saturn in Capricorn. Think before you speak. Also, Neptune in Pisces is sextile Saturn in Capricorn which talks of blurring of boundaries which in the case of the world today can indicate some kind of cover-up or it could be about changing perspectives. It is not a hard aspect so it may not be as unusual and hard as it can be. With Pluto going direct on October 3 and Saturn also in Capricorn in forward motion this may be a time that you reap what you sow for better or worse. That includes beyond the scope of the personal too including on a bigger scale. Keep that in mind dear ones. If you are looking for a civil war you may get what you are wishing. This is a great time to make positive changes since Jupiter in Sagittarius is semisextile Pluto in Capricorn and is also good for spiritual growth and creating more wealth and advancing in your career. Kozminsky Symbol for degree of Full Moon – A man is struggling with a fierce serpent whilst others armed with large knives are hurrying to aid him. Victory is temporary in a dualistic world. Those who are affected most intensely are: 16-23 degrees of Sun signs/Rising signs of Aries, Cancer, Libra and Capricorn. If you have any personal planets (Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars) at these degrees they will be influenced. Birthdays included are: April 7-14; July; 9-16; October 10-17; and January 7-14. Aries- Good fortune may come about. Relationships and partnerships in forefront. Yet it truly is all about you this time around. Take that energy and be you for once. Taurus – No matter what others tell you as to what is going on it is about your intuitive feelings that make the difference. Pay attention to this in your life and it is beneficial. Gemini – Someone new may enter your life. Look for people who share your ideals. New ways of thinking may come to you. Watch for problems in a friendship. Cancer – You may get charged up as usual and it may just take you to a new direction/career. Right now you need to hide nothing. You came a long way. Be you. Leo- Good things may show up on the travel front along with education and creative gifts. Stop for a moment before a big step forward. Find a way to keep your energy going. Virgo- Use your common sense to make any choices now!  Do not take any big risks at this time. Even though the money may be tight, you do know how to do it. Libra – It is a time for tact when broaching a topic so no one takes it personally. Good fortune may show up through those you know or just meet. Light the fire within. Scorpio – Before you open to someone and trust them take a good look at the connection first. If you believe in something even if there is a risk, you know what to do. Sagittarius- If you are looking for an opportunity, then now may be a good time to open to it. Also it is a time for sharing yourself and your gifts with others. Be generous. Capricorn – Forget the emotional issues that are now bombarding your life. Look at those achievements that you have. Let others know you care and put them at ease. Aquarius- Looking for a new friend then get yourself out and about in the next few days. You may even want to start planning a trip so you can do something different. Pisces – No need for emotional urgency even though this is a fiscal type energy for you. Enjoy getting out there with others. Moderation is the key. That ship coming in is close. Thank you for reading and sharing. I would love to hear your experiences as the Full Moon takes place.  Stay in balance even when any shifting takes place. And stop letting the energy of those who are not in your favor stop you from leaping forward. Keep your heart open to love. May you be blessed. Until again, love Jan https://janais.wordpress.com/ Read the full article

[damajority]

DaMajority Fresh Article https://www.damajority.com/officers-ball-second/

Support for Police and Fire Personnel Resonates at Second Annual Officers’ Ball

Press Release 19 December 2017

  Support for Police and Fire Personnel Resonates at Second Annual Officers’ Ball

Chairperson makes presentation to One of the Lifetime Achievement Awards receivers Mr. Leon Francis

Make it Happen Chairperson Raquel Duboulay Chastanet with hosts Isai Hall and Coaks

Venezuelan Ambasssador, Carnival Queen and Culture Minister Hon. Belrose

It was all about raising funds for Saint Lucia’s Police Force and the Fire Service when the Make It Happen Foundation staged the Second Annual Officers’ Ball at the Sandals Grande Beach Resort and Spa on the evening of Saturday 16th December 2017.

Hundreds of persons attended the function which has become a popular charity event on the local December calendar, largely because the event is more than just about glitz and glamour and is about giving back to an essential service in our society – our hard-working police and fire personnel. The event also has the added excitement of encouraging guests to support the local fashion industry through its “dress Saint Lucian” theme.

Organizer of the event and chairperson of the Make It Happen Foundation, Mrs. Raquel Duboulay-Chastanet, wife of Prime Minister Honourable Allen Chastanet, profusely thanked all attendees and sponsors, and explained that whilst the organization has been able to provide some relief to officers, there is still so much to accomplish.

“Tonight is a night for us to celebrate and honour the men and women of the police force and fire service who work year round to protect us and keep us safe,” Mrs. Duboulay-Chastanet said in her address to the gathering. “The Make it Happen Foundation was launched over a year ago with the aim of raising funds for and being able to address small infrastructural needs around the island. However, when we looked at the urgent needs of our officers, in particular the dire conditions of many of the police and fire stations, we decided to make remedying them our first project.”

The foundation, through the proceeds from last year’s event and various donations and support from corporate partners, was able to provide assistance in 2017 to several stations including: the Choiseul Police Station which received a new fence, new AC units, new lockers and showers, the Gros Islet Police Station which received a new lounge and some refurbishments, the Marchand Police Station which received a new  kitchen and television, the Gros Islet Fire Station which received an updated kitchen, the Laborie Police Station which received new water tanks. The Foundation was also able to give the Odsan Combined School their very first library! During a short video presentation the audience was able to see the impact that the Make It Happen Foundation has had throughout Saint Lucia.

The Annual Officers’ Ball also takes the opportunity to honour long-serving officers. This year’s awardees for Lifetime Achievement Awards were former Inspector Mr. Leon James Francis, former Superintendent Mr. Ellis Black and former leading fireman Mr. Allan Smith.

Mrs. Duboulay-Chastanet was ever thankful to sponsors of the annual event and supporters of the Make it Happen Foundation which included, among others, Sandals Resorts, Brice & Company, Harris Paints Coco Palm Hotel, Model Homes Ltd, IGY Rodney Bay, Caribbean Awnings, Star Publishing Company, Duboulay’s Bottling Company, Libyan Embassy, Courts, Flow and JE Bergasse.

“All of these donations make such a difference and really have allowed us to maximize the impact that we would have had otherwise,” Mrs. Duboulay-Chastanet stated. “I spoke last year about the many sacrifices our police and fire officers make on a daily basis in the most difficult of circumstances and I do hope after tonight many of you are inspired to work with us to try and improve their working conditions. We know that taking care of our officers is the Government’s responsibility but until such time as Government is truly able to provide them with the level of support that they require I believe that it is up to us as the private citizenry to step up and help where we can.”

Mrs. Duboulay-Chastanet also explained that a little goes a long way and in some cases police and fire stations needed basic administrative office items, kitchen items such as pots and pans, fans, chairs and other miscellaneous items.

The event also featured a raffle, door prizes and the stirring and increasingly competitive auction segment which raised double what it did last year. Awards were given to persons who best represented the Saint Lucian dress theme and the host herself was ever thankful to local dress designer Queen Esther of Kuumba Designs for her two couture gowns.

Following this year’s event the Make It Foundation has plans to work with the teachers and nurses associations.  

St Lucian themed Best Dressed Couple!

Support for officers at this charity event

Ricky T entertains the audience

Prime Minister Hon. Allen Chastanet greets guests

END.

For more information on the Make It Happen foundation in Saint Lucia and to see the work the foundation has done please visit: https://www.facebook.com/makeithappenstlucia/

[edeuchar-blog]

Final Colloquium Paper

Emily Deuchar

Professor Arnold

Colloquium

Research Paper

LGSM: From Movement to Myth to Movie

           In 1984, amid the worst strike in Britain’s history, a group of lesbian and gay men came together to raise money for and support the miner’s strike. This group, which became known as Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners or LGSM would have a profound affect on the mining communities they supported as well as on the gay rights movement in the Labour Party. But how did a group of lesbians and gays, in a time where they were persecuted and AIDs was just beginning, manage to come together with small mining communities in Wales, where most people had never met a gay person in their lives and there was a very machismo culture? In this paper, I will explore how LGSM and the South Wales mining communities came together to support one another, including the community’s reaction to LGSM, how AIDs may have affected the group, and the breaking off of lesbians from the group to create their own support group.

           LGSM first started when Mark Ashton, along with his friend Mike Jackson, took buckets to the 1984 Pride march to collect money for the miners strike. After earning a few hundred pounds, they decided to put an ad out in a local LGBT newspaper, Capital Gay, and on Sunday, July 15th 1984 the first meeting of Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners was held. Eleven people attended the first meeting, most of whom had already been donating or collecting money for the miners through their jobs or their unions, and the group inly continued to grow from there. While the group contained people from all sorts of political backgrounds, including members of the Young Socialist Party, the Labour Party, and the Communist Party, the group decided to leave politics out of it (minus their collective hate for Margaret Thatcher and the Conservative government) and focus on one thing, and one thing only, supporting the miners in any way they could. LGSM’s constitution, written on September 2nd 1984 reads, “The aim of the groups is to organize amongst Lesbians and Gay men in support of the National Union of Mineworkers in its campaign against pit closures and in defense of the mining communities [and] to provide financial assistance for miners and the families during the national miners’ strike,” (Tate 127).

The group would raise money by standing outside of gay bars and clubs in London (where the group was based out of), such as The Bell and Heaven, or popular gay spaces like Gays the Word bookstore where the group would sometimes hold meetings, with collection buckets. They had to collect in pairs of at least two in case of attacks or harassment, and often were not allowed inside of these spaces because club or bar owners did not want the group bringing up politics or serious matters in places where their customers came to relax and indulge in what was then seen as a very hedonistic gay lifestyle. At this time, being gay, especially out in public was a very dangerous thing, as gay bashings and police harassment were common occurrences. In one instance, a few members were outside of Gays the Word collecting, standing right underneath the stores awning that they were told by the storeowners was their property so they should be allowed to collect there legally with their permission. However, the police came by and told them they could not be out on the public street collecting, and when the group fought back they were told that they would all be arrested if they did not leave and they would think of something to charge them with on the way to the station. So, the group had to go back inside the bookstore and came back out when the police had left. The police came back almost every hour and told them to go and they would sit in the store a few minutes and come right back out, (Tate 144). It was not only like this for gay organizations, but for all LGBT people at the time. Even though being gay was technically decriminalized in 1967, it was still illegal to have gay sex under the age of 21 and many ran the risk of arrest simply for touching or dancing with a person of the same sex in public. This homophobia was heightened in the public by the media who viewed gay people as “metropolitan” “perverts” who wanted to infect children and working class men their gayness. Even through their own persecution, LGSM and its members fought back in order to help the miners, a group historically known for its homophobia, because as founder Mark Ashton said, “One community should give solidarity to another. It is quite illogical to say, 'I'm gay and I'm into defending the gay community but I don't care about anything else’. It’s important that, if you’re defending communities, you also defend all communities," (Dancing in Dulais, lgsm.org), and at that time the miners were being persecuted just as the gay community was.

Even though they were able to collect money for the miners, LGSM needed to find a way to get it to them. Sending money to the National Union of Miners or NUM was unreliable, because the government kept trying to sequester their funds since no ballot had been held to declare the national strike, so it was according to the government-run National Coal Board’s new laws, illegal. Due to this, many support groups would twin with a mining community to directly support them. However, LGSM was worried about finding a mining town who would respect them and be willing to take the money they had collected. Luckily, a member of LGSM knew Hywel Francis through the Communist Party, and he was apart of the Neath, Dulais, and Swansea Valley Miners Support Group in Dulais. So, the group reached out to him and he agreed to take the money, not caring that they were gay. He sent Dai Donovan, who had been traveling often to London to raise money for the community, to meet the group and that is how this unexpected relationship started.

Mike Jackson, after meeting with Dai Donovan, wrote to the support group to formally ask to twin with them. However, neither Dai nor Hywel had told the group prior to their meeting that they were going to meet with them and accept their money. When the letter was read out at the support group’s meeting it was met with a bit of laughter and shock that Dai had actually met them, as Christine Powell explains “ ‘Silence. Shock. I mean gays were people who existed elsewhere’,” (Tate 133). The support group decided that it would twin with LGSM and did not mind too much the fact that they were gay. The support group needed about £3,000 a week to supply families on strike with food parcels and additional support, and LGSM donated about £400-500 a week, becoming the largest donating group.

As their relationship grew, the support group decided to invite LGSM to their meeting hall in Dulais to meet the communities they were supporting just like they had with all of the other groups that they twinned with. There was a little rumbling about whether or not a gay group should be allowed to come, but these were quickly quieted as the members of the support group felt they had helped a lot and should be treated just as all of the other groups. When LGSM arrived they stayed with various families throughout the communities, went out to a few picket lines, and came to the Dulais meeting hall where they met others in the community. The men were a little shy at first, but the women warmed up to LGSM quickly and loved that all of the gay men would dance with them, something the men in South Wales never did. Though the men were a bit more reserved, they respected LGSM and thanked them for the help. Overall, LGSM’s worries about not being accepted by the South Wales community were unfounded, and the groups got on quite well. Both groups felt that it was powerful and important that they got to meet one another. Those from the support group found that the members of LGSM went through the same sort of police harassment that they did for picketing and having the media portray them as the “enemy within” and that they had more in common than they thought. The members of LGSM found that staying with these families and seeing the poor conditions they were forced to live in due to low or no income during the strike made them more passionate to raise more money. The biggest trouble the support group had with LGSM was the fact that most of the lesbians and some of the gay men were vegetarians or vegans. This was something that was most certainly NOT in Wales and they found it hard to feed them while they stayed with them. Even the threat of AIDs did not scare them. The only objection from the LGBT side was people outside of the LGSM who thought, “Why should we help the miners, what have they ever done for us?” This meeting caused friendships to flourish and the bond between them to strengthen.

Over the next year, LGSM visited South Wales multiple times and the support group would also come up to London and stay with LGSM members, where they helped collect money and go out to gay clubs and bars and learn more about the gay community. Members of LGSM who were dealing with AIDs, like Jonathan Blake who was one of the first men diagnosed with HIV in England just a year before, confided in the women of the support group. They did not want to hide who they were and wanted to be transparent with the women they had gotten so close to. One of LGSM’s most successful benefit events was their Pits and Perverts concert at the Electric Ballroom in Camden headlining gay group Bronski Beat, where they raised £5,000 and about 1,500 people both miners who got in free of charge and gays attended, (Kellaway 1). Here Dai Donovan got onstage and gave a powerful speech, “ ‘You have worn our badge, “Coal not Dole”, and you know what harassment means, as we do. Now we will pin your badge on us, we will support you. It won’t change overnight, but now 140,000 miners know that there are other causes and other problems. We know about blacks, and gays, and nuclear disarmament. And we will never be the same.’”(LGBThistorymonth.org 1). LGSM also purchased the support group a van, which they desperately needed to deliver food parcels and help take miners to the picket lines. The van was emblazoned with LGSM’s logo, which the group thought was great because it would make people stop and stare and then think about the gay community which most people there did not often do. LGSM continued to support the group until the end of the strike on March 3rd, 1985 almost a year after it had started on March 6th, 1984.

During the year that LGSM supported the South Wales community, a group of lesbians within the group decided to break off and form Lesbians Against Pit Closures. Some members of the group felt that this was ridiculous, but others welcomed it as another way to help the cause. The women who left wanted a group that wasn’t dominated by men and that would be able to collect at women only spaces and teach the women in the mining communities about feminism. The support group did not care much that they formed a separate group, though some preferred LGSM because they did not like all of the talks and politics of Lesbians Against Pit Closures, not to mention the horrible vegetarian food at their meetings. Lesbians Against Pit Closures remained a small group and raised about £1,000.

That June LGSM had planned to walk in the Pride march and invited the mining communities of South Wales to join them. They were not sure if any of the communities would come, but on the day of Pride so many people showed up to march with them that they had to be moved to the front to lead the march. Later that year, gay rights had made it onto the Labour Party’s ballot to decide whether or not it be something that the Labour Party adopted into their agenda. They won by 600,000 votes, with the trades-unions pushing them through. The NUM had come out in support of gay rights and since they were the largest union, all of the other unions followed them, and gay rights officially became a Labour Party issue. This is mostly due to LGSM’s support of the NUM in the strike, which changed many miners’ opinions about gay people.

By the late 1990’s, LGSM and their unlikely friendship with mining communities in South Wales had become merely myth among the LGBT community. Some people knew about it, but no one was quite sure if it was true. In 2010, writer Stephen Beresford told film producer David Livingstone that this myth was one he wanted to explore and turn into a movie. So, he found past members and interviewed them as well as those from the support group in South Wales, and in the fall of 2014 he premiered the movie Pride based on the true story of LGSM and the miners, (Kellaway 1). The movie was a huge success and caused LGSM to reform and many new, young members joined. The group has also formed new sects of itself such as Lesbians and Gays Support the Migrants and other Lesbians and Gays Support… groups. However, according to their website, lgsm.org, that in 2015 the group was stopping campaigning to focus on keeping their legacy and history alive. Even so, the movie encouraged many young gay people to get involved and support causes and communities like the LGSM did, and gave birth to a new generation of gay activism.

What happened in 1984-85 between LGSM and the South Wales mining communities was remarkable and changed the game for both communities. Even though they ultimately lost the strike, many families would not have been able to last in the strike that long if it was not for LGSM, and they gave the community a new understanding of gay people and created an air of tolerance and acceptance. The miners in turn helped get gay rights into the Labour party agenda, which subsequently led to the lowering of the age of consent for gays, anti-discrimination laws, and the legalization of gay marriage. This story of two very different groups persecuted by the government, has inspired many, and with the help of the film Pride and the recently published book by Tim Tate of the same name, this story is being shared with the world.

 Works Cited

Kellaway, Kate. “When Miners and Gay Activists United: the Real Story of the Film Pride.” The Observer, Guardian News and Media, 31 Aug. 2014, www.theguardian.com/film/2014/aug/31/pride-film-gay-activists-miners-strike-interview.

“Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners in Their Protests for 'Coal Not Dole'.” Claiming Our Past, Celebrating Our Present, Creating Our Future, LGBThistorymonth.org.uk/lesbians-and-gays-support-the-miners-in-their-protests-for-coal-not-dole/.

“LGSM.” LGSM, lgsm.org.

Tate, Tim, and LGSM. Pride. John Blake Publishing Ltd, 2017.

[caveartfair]

Alleged Conflict of Interest Pushes Beatrix Ruf to Resign from Stedelijk Museum—and the 9 Other Biggest News Stories This Week

Catch up on the latest art news with our rundown of the 10 stories you need to know this week.

01  Beatrix Ruf resigned as director of Amsterdam’s influential Stedelijk Museum on Tuesday amid allegations of conflicts of interest.

(Artsy)

The allegations stem from Ruf’s operation of a private art advisory service while serving as director, and the terms attached to a major donation to the institution last year. Ruf’s resignation comes less than two weeks after a pair of investigations were published by the Dutch daily NRC. One of the reports revealed that Ruf earned €437,306 in 2015 from her private art advisory company, Currentmatters. The Stedelijk’s annual report from the same year—which specifically provides a space for the museum to disclose its director’s activities outside of her employment there—includes no reference to Currentmatters, which is registered in Switzerland, nor to any income she derived from it. A statement posted on the museum’s website cites “speculations in the media over the past weeks that may have an impact on [our] reputation” as reason for Ruf’s departure. Ruf is frequently cited as among the contemporary art world’s most influential players, and served as the director and chief curator of the Kunsthalle Zürich for nearly 12 years before taking up her post at the Stedelijk in 2014. “We brought extraordinary collections to Amsterdam and significantly deepened our relevance to society and our communities,” she wrote in the statement posted on Tuesday morning. “I value the interests of this outstanding institution, and place the interests of the Stedelijk first, above my own, individual concerns. In light of that, I feel that this is an appropriate moment for me to step down.”

02  Controversial Russian performance artist Pyotr Pavlensky was arrested in Paris after setting fire to France’s central Bank.

(via the New York Times)

On Wednesday, the artist and his partner Oksana Shalygina stood before a Paris judge, charged with “damaging property in a way that put others in danger,” according to the Times, after starting a fire at the Banque de France. Photographs of the performance began circulating on social media on Monday. Pavlensky is known for his spectacular and often gruesome political art; in one notorious performance, he nailed his scrotum to Russia’s Red Square to make a statement about political apathy. Pavlensky also set fire to the Moscow headquarters of Russia’s Federal Security Service (FSB) in November of 2015. Both Pavlensky and his partner applied for and received political asylum in France earlier this year, following allegations of sexual assault made against them in Russia, which the couple argue were untrue and politically motivated.

03  Protesters gathered outside James Cohan in Chinatown in response to Omer Fast’s transformation of the gallery into a faux Chinese business.

(via DNAinfo and James Cohan)

Fast transformed the white cube gallery into “the waiting room of a Chinatown business,” according to its website. But critics charge that Fast’s depiction—replete with broken ATMs, a damaged awning, and hole-ridden walls—amounts to “poverty porn” that stereotypes the very Chinese businesses being forced out of the neighborhood by gentrification. Dozens of activists, including members of the local artist collective Chinatown Art Brigade, demonstrated inside and outside of the gallery earlier this week to protest what they called its “racist narratives of uncleanliness, otherness and blight that have historically been projected onto Chinatown.” In response, the gallery stated that “people are free to draw their own conclusions about art, but they should also be given the opportunity to do so—without censorship, barriers or intimidation.” In his own statement, Fast defended his piece but said he was “truly sorry that some persons find the installation insensitive or offensive.”

04  A jury began hearing arguments on Tuesday in a lawsuit brought by 5 Pointz graffiti artists against the real estate developer who destroyed their work.

(via the New York Times)

For decades, the 5 Pointz complex served as a graffiti mecca, attracting dozens of street artists and thousands of visitors to Long Island City, Queens. The artists who coated the building complex in their colorful and dazzling work acted with the permission of the owner, Jerry Wolkoff, since 1993. But in 2014, Wolkoff redeveloped the site, demolishing the buildings and, in the process, destroying the graffiti. The artists sued Walkoff for monetary damages under the Visual Artists Rights Act (VARA), a rarely tested federal law that, among other things, entitles artists to certain rights over their work if it is of “recognized stature,” even if that work is public and on someone else’s property. Oral arguments in the case began Tuesday, with a lawyer for the artists—who have tried to make the site a landmark, or even buy it—asserting they were not given 90 days’ notice prior to the demolition, as required under the law. The jury will hear from art experts who will testify that the 5 Pointz graffiti works meet the definition of recognizable art. Lawyers for Wolkoff will argue that his ownership gives him the right to demolish the building as he pleases.

05  German citizens and cultural figures have signed an open letter, protesting the appointment of a member of Germany’s far-right party as chairman of the country’s Committee on Cultural and Media Affairs.

(via Artforum)

Siegbert Droese, a member of the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD), was appointed to head the German Bundestag’s cultural committee after the AfD secured 12.6 percent of the vote in last month’s elections. The open letter, published on September 26th in response to the appointment, warns that the AfD cannot be allowed to “[inject] its nationalist poison” into German cultural policy, arguing that the radical right-wing group is “unashamedly undermining the principles of our co-existence in this country.” Among the letter’s 25,000–plus signatories are directors, writers, producers, journalists, actors, musicians, and politicians, all prominent figures in Germany’s art and culture sector. In response, Droese said, “Our young party has specifically made the preservation and promotion of tradition, art, and culture a central task. The development of our culture as the sum of national and European values can provide cultural self-definition as well as give stability, purpose, and meaning to people of other cultures.”

06  The copyrights to works by deceased Aboriginal artist Albert Namatjira have been returned to his family after years of campaigning.

(via Reuters)

Namatjira, who was described by Reuters as “Australia’s most famous Aboriginal artist,” sold part of his works’ copyrights to his friend John Brackenreg in 1957, and upon Namatjira’s death two years later, the artist’s will transferred the remainder of them to his widow. But in 1983, the trustee of the Northern Territory, the Australian state that administered his will, sold those remaining copyrights to Brackenreg’s publication company without consulting family members, some of whom fell into poverty since losing the rights to Namatjira’s work. Aided by an arts organization, the family campaigned unsuccessfully for years to get the rights to reproductions of Namatjira’s watercolors and paintings, one of which was given to Queen Elizabeth II in 1947. And last weekend, those efforts finally were successful, thanks to Australian businessman Dick Smith, who knows the Brackenreg family and intervened on behalf of Namatjira’s descendants. “It’s a just cause,” Smith told Reuters.

07  Christie’s will auction a Fernand Léger painting estimated at $65 million without a guarantee.

(via Art Market Monitor)

After being held in the same family collection for a little over six decades, Léger’s Contraste de formes (1913) will hit the New York auction block as the star lot of the Impressionist and Modern sale at Christie’s on November 13th. The auction marks the first time the painting has ever been at auction, and Christie’s has high expectations, estimating the work at $65 million—roughly $25 million above Léger’s previous auction record, set in 2008 for the painting Étude pour La Femme en Bleu (1912–13). Notably, the work is being put up without a guarantee, according to Art Market Monitor. The star lot of October’s Post-War and Contemporary auction at Christie’s, Francis Bacon’s Study of Red Pope (1971), went unsold without a guarantee.

08  A Spanish court ruled that the tarot card reader who claimed to be the daughter of Salvador Dalí must pay for July’s exhumation of the artist’s body.

(via AFP and Artsy)

For decades, tarot card reader Pilar Abel claimed to be Dalí’s daughter, arguing in a long-running paternity lawsuit that DNA tests would prove her correct. The judge presiding over the suit ruled that body of Surrealist artist Salvador Dalí would be exhumed to gather a DNA sample, but subsequent tests showed that Abel is not, in fact, Dalí’s daughter. Earlier this month, the judge dismissed Abel’s case and required her to pay for the ordeal. Abel had previously argued that Dalí had a “clandestine love affair” with her mother, Antonia Martínez de Haro, in the 1950s, while she was an employee in the artist’s summer home in Port Lligat on the coast of Spain. While the court has yet to specify the cost of the exhumation of Dalí’s corpse, which is kept in a crypt in the Figueres museum dedicated to the painter’s life and work, the process required the removal of a 1.5-ton slab. According to AFP, the Dalí Foundation has not yet evaluated the total cost, and it’s still possible that Abel can appeal the court’s judgement.

09  The Matisse family has prevailed in an ownership lawsuit over two of the artist’s cutouts.  

(via The Art Newspaper)

A French appeals court ruled that two Henri Matisse cutouts—collectively valued at $4.5 million—belong to the family of the artist’s son, Pierre Matisse, and not Jérôme Le Blay, a French dealer who claimed he held good title to the works. The pieces were consigned to Sotheby’s in 2008, but the auction house pulled the works after receiving a letter from Georges Matisse, the artist’s great-grandson, claiming ownership on behalf of the family. The Matisse heir asserted that the pair of works are two of hundreds that went missing while in storage. It later emerged that a company called Rozven, registered in Hong Kong, consigned the works to Sotheby’s. Rozven claimed they acquired the works from Jérôme Le Blay. But the Versailles appeals court found that Rozven was actually a “cover mounted by Le Blay” to confound scrutiny, according to The Art Newspaper. This latest court victory, which Le Blay can appeal, creates the possibility that hundreds of missing pieces could be recovered if found.

10  The World Monuments Fund added locations damaged or destroyed by recent hurricanes and earthquakes to its 2018 heritage site watch list.

(via The Art Newspaper)

The World Monuments Fund (WMF) added locations in the Caribbean, U.S. Gulf Coast, and Mexico to its list of sites currently or previously threatened by conflict, change climate, and natural disasters. The fund’s director, Joshua David, said, “Just as we were concluding our review process, Hurricanes Harvey and Irma, and the earthquakes in Mexico, hit one after another,” according to The Art Newspaper. He added that the WMF put sites impacted by the recent disasters on the list in order to bring attention to the need for their conservation. Sites already on the 2018 heritage list included the historic Souk of Aleppo, damaged during the Syrian Civil War; the Blackpool Piers in England, which are at risk due to rising sea levels; the Italian city of Amatrice, which was destroyed by a 2016 earthquake; and locations in Alabama connected to the Civil Rights Movement.

Cover Image: Portrait of Beatrix Ruf by Robin de Puy. Courtesy of the artist.

from Artsy News