#my only knock is that john was quite short and it was sort of silly

[thegonse]

so midas man was crazy

[365days365movies]

April 5, 2021: Arsenic and Old Lace (1944) (Recap: Part One)

Yeah, so...Spectrum exploded last night.

So, I'm unfortunately a little behind. BUT NEVER FEAR! I'll get back on time before you know it! So, uh...where were we last time? OH RIGHT! Let's talk about black comedy. And I don't mean black-and-white comedies, or comedies prominently featuring African-American culture and demographic. No, I mean dark comedies.

The "black comedy" functions off of macabre or taboo humor and jokes, and is often closely associated with biting satire and commentary in film. That definition is loose as hell, I know, but it's all about the subject matter. The most common subject matter for dark humor is death, of course, and related subjects to death. War, murder, strife, madness, and violence are also common topics here.

Some of the best comedies are black comedies, though. For example, Brazil (1985; dir. Terry Gilliam) focuses on themes of depression, dreams, terrorism, totalitarian governments, and madness. And it's GREAT. How about The Death of Stalin (2018; dir. Armando Iannucci)? The title ALONE should tell you everything you need to know about the tone and topic, AND YET...

It's HILARIOUS. And also informative! If you haven't seen it, I definitely recommend it. And again, that film is about, well...the death of Stalin, and the fallout of his disastrous and murderous regime. Dark, DARK topic, but very funny movie.

Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb is about war; Fargo is about murder in North Dakota; Heathers is about a toxic relationship and the death and murder of teenagers; Birdman, or The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance is about an actor's existential crisis and complete mental breakdown; and Trainspotting is about the devastating effects of drug addiction and features a DEAD BABY FOR CHRIST'S SAKE...and yet they're all full of laughs! Except for the baby scene. Fuck me, the baby scene in Trainspotting.

So, yeah, these are a diverse group of films, that's for sure. But where does it all start? There's 1942's To Be or Not to Be (dir. Ernst Lubitsch), which is about a Polish theatre company who need to escape in the midst of...well, 1942 Poland. If you don't get why that's dark, you should probably look up some history, bud. Charlie Chaplin would dip into the role in 1947's Monsieur Verdoux, which I mentioned last time. And there's the seldom-talked-about Kind Hearts and Coronets (dir. Robert Hamer), a 1949 film about murder for status, essentially.

But it's hard to argue that the most prominent early black comedy is 1944's Cary Grant vehicle, Arsenic and Old Lace.

Directed by Frank Capra, this film was based on a 1941 stage play, and is about...well, we'll get to it. While its prominence as a black comedy is one reason I'm watching this movie, the other is...well, to be honest, this is a movie I heard about CONSTANTLY from my Mom, as this is one of her favorites. And yet, like Dirty Dancing, I've somehow never seen it! Let's remedy that.

So, without further ado, let's get into it! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

The film starts off with a BANG, as a man calls me a “big simp” to my face! Actually, he’s screaming at a Brooklyn Dodgers game, where a massive fight breaks out. This fight quickly transitions to a city hall, where a line of people are waiting to file marriage licenses. Amongst the line is Mortimer Brewster (Cary Grant) and Elaine Harper (Priscilla Lane).

Brewster is hiding from the press, as he’s a famous reviewer, and author of the Bachelor’s Bible, and it would be quite the scandal for him to get married. And yet, he’s head over heels in love with Elaine. After going through an existential crisis about the whole thing, he gives into Elaine’s sweet demeanor, and the two file their marriage license officially.

It’s Halloween day, and we move from the city to the suburbs of Brooklyn, where two policemen, O’Hara (Jack Carson) and Sanders (John RIdgely) are on patrol. Sanders tells O’Hara of the kindly Brewster Sisters, the sweetest women on Earth, both of whom live in the neighborhood. Currently, they are being visited by Reverend Harper (Grant Mitchell), Elaine’s father. He’s speaking with Abby (Josephine Hull) and Martha Brewster (Jean Adair), the kindly aunts of Mortimer. 

Also living there is Mortimer’s brother Teddy Brewster (John Alexander), who apparently believes that he’s Teddy Roosevelt, which is...hilarious. Dude is hilarious, seriously. The cops come over to visit the two, and collect some clothes and toys for local charity. Also, Teddy only leaves a room by screaming “CHAAAAARGE!!!”, and running up the stairs, and I love Teddy a lot.

Reverend Harper and the cops leave for the night, and the sisters settle down for the evening. Abby and Martha state that their plans for Elaine and Mortimer should go as scheduled, which is probably talking about their marriage. Abby also mentions that she’s done something while she was away, to Martha’s delight and surprise. They tell Teddy that he’ll soon be digging a new lock for the Panama Canal...whatever that means.

Martha’s about to go to the basement to see what Abby’s done, but she states that because she was all by herself, the surprise is in the window seat. As she’s about to look at the surprise, Elaine shows up in the window, and the two arrive to give the happy news that they’re married. Elaine goes to tell her father of the news, while Mortimer goes to tell his sweet aunts. Afterwards, the two will be on their honeymoon, going to Niagara Falls. And I should say, they’re quite a sweet couple.

After telling the news to his aunts, he asks them where his notes are for his new controversial book, Mind Over Matrimony. They go to look for it around the house, and Teddy comes downstairs, dressed up in attire to “go to Panama.” Aunt Abby comes across a childhood picture of Jonathan, Mortimer’s brother and apparently a violent sociopath or some sort. She goes to burn the picture (geez), and Mortimer continues to look for the notes. He goes to the window seat.

Yup! It’s a body! Looks like Abby and Martha’s sweet old lady act is a guise for some myurder! Which I know, just because it’s the most famous thing about the movie. However, Mortimer thinks the murderer is Teddy, and tells his sweet old aunts about the body, asking that he gets put into an asylum. But Abby notes that Teddy didn’t kill the man, and they already know about the body!

Which, yeah, surprises Mortimer, obviously.

Abby cheerfully admits that the man, Mr. Hoskins, was poisoned by a tainted glass of elderberry wine, and that they did so on purpose, hiding the body before the Reverend came for a visit. The whole thing isn’t a big deal; it’s just Abby and Martha’s little secret!

After they leave, and brush off the whole thing as easy as needlepoint or macramé as a hobby, Mortimer, is completely broken by the whole affair, and is partially convinced that he’s dreaming. All the while, Elaine’s trying to get Mortimer to come over and speak with her father. But Mortimer can’t exactly forget about this whole silly murder thing, and goes to confront his aunts about it. He learns that Teddy’s digging not a lock, but a grave in the cellar. As he’s done with 10 other bodies. Or maybe it’s 11 others?

After picking up a phone call from Elaine, then hanging up abruptly (and understandably), Mortimer finds out how this whole thing started. See, the two have a “Renters Wanted” sign in their front lawn, and the neighborhood thinks that it’s there so the two sweet old ladies can offer help to anyone in need, even though they aren’t actually renting to anyone. In reality...well, they do it for another reason.

See, an older gentleman stopped by a bit ago, and he had a heart attack right there in the living room. After seeing how peaceful he looked, the two decided to bring in other lonely old men and bring in the same kind of peace. And from there...well, yeah, you get the general idea. They’ve been poisoning them with arsenic, strychnine, and cyanide mixed in with elderberry wine. Apparently, Martha’s got the mixture just right so that it tastes delicious. With all this explained, they offer Mortimer a sip of wine. Which he’s understandably nervous about.

But with all of that done, Elaine comes over to check in on him. But he’s not able to tell her anything, which greatly (and understandably) confuses her. He basically kicks her out (which enrages her, once again understandably), and calls a judge with the intent to frame the whole affair on Teddy, who’s always been.unstable. Which, for the record, is not even SLIGHTLY going to solve the problem.

But as he’s on the phone, a man named Gibbs (Edward McWade) comes in to rent an apartment. He’s all alone in the world, with nobody to care for him. And of course, this leads to the women trying to poison him with the wine. It’s a funny yet tense moment as he stops just short of drinking the wine, distracted by Mortimer’s freakout over the phone. But Mortimer gets off the phone JUST in time to scare Gibbs away and stop him from drinking the wine. And it is...VERY funny, goddamn.

As Mortimer tries to tell the aunts exactly what’s wrong with what they’re doing, the phone rings. It’s a call from Witherspoon (Edward Everett Horton), who runs an asylum that Mortimer wants Teddy committed into. However, they don’t quite have room for him, as they have too many Theodore Roosevelts at present. However, they do need more Napoleon Bonapartes. I love this goddamn movie.

Still, Witherspoon agrees to take him in despite that, and Mortimer head out to get the paperwork done. However, he asks his aunts to not do anything until he gets back, and he also proises that he’ll attend the “services” for their latest victim. He leaves, and kinda steals a cabbie’s car in the process (I love this movie, I’m telling you), and Abby and Martha start shutting things down for the night. However, as they do, they get a mysterious knock on the door. They pretend not to be home...only for a man with an ominous scar to enter the room regardless.

Let’s pause here, shall we? See you in Part 2!

[iwrite4obx]

hi love, could you do a jj fic where the reader is studying to become a nurse and jj would always go to her to patch him up but one time he just breaks down after a fight with his dad and realizes how she's always there for him and that he loves her? thank youuuu

Always There (JJ x Reader)

A/N: I can not thank you enough for the response to my last fic!!!!!! Over 120 notes!!! I love you guys! That aside, thank you for the request, love! This was really emotional and heartbreaking but I very much enjoyed writing it. I love when JJ opens up and feels his feelings ❤️ Requests are still open! But I might close them soon, I’ve got a list going. (For all you Sarah x John B shippers, I got one coming soon!)

T/W: mentions of abuse, blood and stitching up wounds. Sad angsty feels. Swearing.

If you are suffering from abuse please contact the authorities or some one who is in a position to help you. You are welcome to reach out to me to talk (that goes for everyone, actually. I’m always available for a chat or if you’re going through a hard time) but you should first reach out to someone who can truly help you.

Word Count: 1.3k

It's late. You sit on the floor, wrapped in a heavy blanket with a textbook open on your lap. You've been studying for hours now, and you're pretty sure you haven't absorbed any of the information for your test tomorrow. Nursing school is demanding and you are very dedicated to your studies, which means it is rare nowadays for you to get a full 8 hours of sleep. You are just beginning to drift off when you are startled by a knock at the door. You stand, letting the blanket slip to the ground and walk tentatively to the door. You crack it open and peer out.

Standing on the other side of the door is JJ a fellow OBX native and a friend of yours. You've know JJ for a long time, but the two of you have only recently begun to grow close. As a much as you love seeing JJ, as much as your heart flutters when you spy him in your doorway, you hate when he comes to visit. He only ever brings bad news. And sure enough, JJ is sporting a black eye and a small gash near his collarbone.

The first time he'd appeared at your doorway like this, you'd gasped, tears immediately springing to your eyes.

"Oh my God, JJ. What happened? Who did this to you?"

"Y/n, I don't wanna talk about it... Can you just patch me up, please?" His voice was thick with tears and his eyes were pleading, so you'd bandaged him up in silence.

As he began coming to you more and more, he slowly revealed to you his family life. Every time he visited, you managed to keep it together for his sake. Then, as soon as he walked out the door, you collapsed on your bed and cried for him.

You can't seem to find your voice, but you beckon JJ inside and shut the door behind him.

“Go sit on the couch, J. I’m going to grab a few things.” He nods an walks off to take a seat. You hate it when he's silent. Even when JJ is hurting, he can normally conjure up some sort of cocky comment. The fact that he doesn't say a word to means things are particularly bad.

You return a minute later with your first aid kit and medical supplies. You dump them on the floor and sit down next to JJ. You take a deep breath and focus first on the gash in his shoulder. It is still bleeding and looks quite serious. You apply pressure to the wound, but after several moments, you realize the bleeding isn't stopping.

"Shit JJ, this is bad. I think you need stitches."

"So stitch me up," He replies. His voice is raw. You can tell he's trying hard not to cry.

"No way! You need to go see a doctor!” you argue, concerned.

“I came to see a nurse.”

"You know I'm not an actual nurse yet, right?"

"Oh come on y/n. You take care of me better than any nurse would. Plus, you’re free." You let out a short laugh, but you immediately stifle it. Nothing about this situation is funny. Still, you are relieved that he's making jokes.

“JJ, I’m really not qualified to-“ you begin to argue, but he cuts you off.

“Please. I don’t want to- I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to keep this between us.” He begs, his voice cracking.

You sigh and give in, gently cleaning his wound, first with water then betadine. You have to dig around a bit to remove all the dirt. JJ grimaces the entire time, but he doesn’t cry out. You sterilize a needle with alcohol and retrieve the nylon sutures from your first aid kit to stitch him up.

"This is gonna hurt," you warn. JJ nods and reaches out with one hand to grip your knee, giving him something to hold onto. You lace the suture through his skin. He bites down on his lip, but is silent. You add 7 more sutures, tying each one off as you go. JJ looks relieved when you are done. He releases his grip on your knee and grabs for your hand instead. His eyes said "Thank you."

You reach for his shirt to pull it over his head. Every time he comes to you, he has either bruised or broken ribs, and while there isn’t much you for them, you still need to take a look. But he shoves your hand away in protest.

"Y/n, I don't think-"

You cut him off "Come on, let me see JJ. I wanna help," you say, tears already gathering in your eyes. If he’s trying to protect you from his injuries, they must be especially bad. He looks away and allows you to remove his shirt.

You can't stop tears from spilling from your eyes. His bruises are worse than you've ever seen them before. Splotches of blue and purple pattern his entire abdomen. He's even bleeding in a few places.

"JJ..." You whisper through your tears.

Hearing you say his name like that shatters the final shred of composure he was holding onto. He collapses onto you, throwing his arms around your shoulders, though it's clear from the way he fliches that it pains him to do so. He's sobbing. You can already feel his tears soaking through the fabric of your shirt.

"I don't know what happened, y/n," he stutters through his tears. "Last time, I promised I would never let it happen again. That I would fight back, hard. Even... Even kill him if I had to. But when he came at me I- I just froze. I felt like a little kid again. I let him beat the shit out of me. I took it all without throwing a punch."

"Shh... It's okay J. I'm here for you," you promise, stroking his back comfortingly.

"I know you are. You're the only one whose always there for me," he confesses. "You open up your door to me no matter how late it is. You don't ask too many questions, but you always listen. You're the only one. I- I love you y/n. And I know that’s fucked up to say, but everything about us is fucked up. And I hate coming to you like this because I know how much it hurts you but at the same time, there's no place I'd rather be. I just know that the only time I feel safe is when I’m with you.”

You are shocked into silence. Of course you've thought about JJ romantically, but it had just been silly fantasies. You've never once imagined that he'd confess to loving you. He's never before given you any indication that he thinks of you as more than a close friend. You are completely caught off guard.

When you finally found your voice, you say, "JJ, I don't think-"

"That I'm in a good place for a relationship right now?" He laughs bitterly. "If you don't feel the same way about me, then fine, but don't make excuses." He stares into your eyes. "Do you love me y/n?"

You lean forward and press your lips to his. It's a soft, gentle kiss, but you trust you lips to convey your feelings better than your words. They say to him the words you know to be true, but have always been too afriad to say out loud. I love you.

You fall asleep tangled together on your couch. But before your eyes flutter shut, you make JJ a silent promise. I will always be there for you. I would hold you tight, and I’m never letting go.

A/N: Anyone who sent in requests: I have not denied any requests thus far so if you sent me an ask, your story is in the works! But I have several stacking up, so please be patient as I fulfill requests in the order I receive them. Thanks in advance!

Also, would anyone be interested in being tagged in my future fics? Let me know!

[hedwigstalons]

Pool Toys

Another offering for #irrelief.  This is for @gumnut-logic who wanted something about pool toys.  

xoxoxox

“Grandma is not going to be pleased if you leave that junk all over the deck.  I hope you’re going to clean up that mess when you are done.”

“It’s not junk” Gordon surveyed the bricks, dive sticks, hoops and floats scattered round him, “I’m looking over the bits for my training session.”

John groaned.  “I thought I’d escaped this time.”  

The grin he received in return did nothing to lift his mood. It made sense that they each underwent training in the others’ specialisms but he was about as fond of water training as Gordon was of keeping up his space rating.  Each viewed the habitual environment of the other as a necessary evil.  He quite enjoyed swimming for relaxation, a chance to free himself from some of the effects of gravity, but on duty give him space any day. 

If John had paid better attention to the calendar he would have realised that his current Earthside rotation was likely to include a session with the Squid.  Sometimes that meant a dive in the caldera with the scuba kit, sometimes it meant being taken out into open water in Thunderbird Four and sometimes it was a gruelling session working on the core swimming and diving techniques.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fun.  We’re sticking to the pool so no wetsuits required.  Now go dig out your shorts and slap on the sunscreen, it’s time to get wet.”

John wasn’t quite sure he believed the assertion that it would be fun but it did at least look like they would be having a less than serious session.  He didn’t doubt that Gordon would work him hard though.  You never knew when you might be required to take a dip on a rescue and their resident aquanaut was a firm believer in keeping their swimming skills up to scratch.

Half an hour later all five brothers were gathered pool-side, wondering what fate awaited them.  John wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not that this had turned into a group session.  You never could tell with Gordon.  

The pool itself resembled an underwater obstacle course.  Hoops were suspended in the water at different heights tethered between weights and floats to keep them in place while objects littered the pool floor.  The aquanaut had evidently been busy.

If you could count on Gordon for one thing it was that he would only push you as hard as he pushed himself.  Unfortunately for his siblings, when it came to anything water based Gordon would push himself very hard indeed.

With a running jump that turned into a perfectly executed dive the aquanaut proceeded to show them just what was required for the first test.  He slipped through the course of hoops without touching them in one single lung-bursting breath, only resurfacing when he reached the far end of the pool.

He grinned at the assembled ranks in the same way a shark might grin at its prey and any last shred of hope that the session would be easy melted away.  

The brothers lined up to take their turn.  Might as well get it over with.  One by one they made their attempts to navigate the course under the watchful eye of Gordon.  None of them reached the end and more than one ring was knocked along the way but there were some valiant attempts and more than a little rivalry. 

Challenge after challenge was thrown at them, each designed to test a different water skill.  Some required teamwork such as lifting a large object from the bottom of the pool; others like casualty towing allowed Gordon to assess their individual skills.

By the end of the session the brothers were panting and gasping.  Lungs had been tested and lactic acid was building up.  It was with some relief that Gordon announced that all that was left was to clear all the remaining kit out of the pool and put it back in the box.  The poolside was soon littered with the collected equipment and Alan dragged out the crate from its locker to save carting all the pieces back individually.

As the crate was removed some brightly coloured bits of rubber were revealed that had evidently fallen down the back.

“Hey, I forgot we had these” Alan crawled into the back of the locker to pull out the shapes. 

“What have you found, Al?”

“The inflatables we got for Gordon’s pool party the first year we moved here.”

“I thought those were long gone.  Are they still ok?”

“Seem to be.”  He found a valve, brushed the dust off, and gave it an experimental blow.  The shape began to expand and take on the form of a dolphin, albeit a bright purple one.  “Whose was this? Virgil?”

“Nope, that was mine.  Virgil had a penguin” said Gordon, claiming the dolphin and giving it an affectionate pat.  “That was a birthday to remember.  I was so excited that we had our own pool and that I could use it year round.”

Scott grabbed one of the shapes.  “Palm tree was yours wasn’t it John?”  The inflatable was tossed across to the answering nod and John started blowing it up.

“This one was mine” said Alan, claiming the octopus “and I’m sure this last one is a seahorse.”

“Seahorse was mine.  You sure that’s it?”

“Positive”

“So where did the penguin go?  All the others made it back into the cupboard, why not Virg’s?  We could have had a rerun of the races”

The engineer shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of his eldest brother.  He had got rather attached to his inflatable and hadn’t wanted to consign it to the cupboard after the party.

“Virgil?”

“Fernando lives in my room.”

“Fernando” snorted Scott.  “What sort of name is that for a penguin?”

“Surely a better question is why did he name it at all?  I mean, it’s a pool toy?”

“Don’t you listen to the nasty man, Gloria”  Gordon stroked his dolphin.  “Just because he has a silly old tree rather than a nice, sensible animal.  Come on Virg, go dig out Fernando”

Virgil shrugged and headed into the villa to retrieve his inflatable.  How the others had missed that he had a 4 foot penguin living in the corner of his room was beyond him.  It wasn’t exactly an item you could easily hide.  Maybe they had just got blind to the fact it was there, like a piece of furniture you no longer really see because it is so familiar.

As he headed back through the villa, penguin under one arm, he could hear the shrieks long before the pool came back into sight.  It sounded as though the finding of the inflatables had given his brothers their second wind.

Sure enough the races had already begun.  Each brother was valiantly trying to stay atop their float while using a pool noodle as a paddle.  Progress was slow and erratic with a competitor frequently being pitched off their steed or toppling sideways into the water, often in response to a jab from an opposing noodle.  Even John, normally the most reserved of the group, was in the thick of it.

Virgil dragged a couple of loungers into a shady spot, put the penguin on one and stretched himself out on the other.  A spare set of sunglasses was retrieved from the waistband of his shorts.

“There you go Fernando, can’t have you damaging your eyes.” 

After giving the penguin one final affectionate pat he settled down to watch the unfolding drama in the pool, plus of course film if for future blackmail purposes.

[ficklepicklefandoms]

in dublin’s fair city ~ t.h

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Requested: no

Word count: 2,537 (my longest one ever!)

Warnings: Binge drinking, swearing, Irish slang and pure Dublin shenanigans.

Hi guys! I’ve had this in my drafts since July which is highly criminal if you ask me! There’s a lot of things that I love about my fair city of Dublin (nickname comes from the song Molly Malone. Listen to this classic!) and I am so excited to be able to share lots of them with you through this one shot! Here comes the bad news... I have final exams in June and need to study hard to get the points I need for my university course. I’m hoping to get some things out to you guys before then but it may be Easter break before anything comes your way. Thank you for your constant support and love with my writing. Please make sure to request things in my ask box for the future! Love and hugs as always xx

My friends and I sat around a small table in The Temple Bar Pub nursing our third or fourth pint of the night. It was nearing 8 and I’d lost count of how many drinks I’d had. The Irish trad music lilting through the air and the harmonious laughter of my friends reminded me my pint was slowly emptying. It would fill up soon without a doubt on earth.

“Ah here now, would you fill your glass before you embarrass us!” My friend Faye called out to me with a large smile adorning her face.

“Well, my drink is nearly gone too so if you’re going you better fill mine too,” Jess called out to me. The rest of our large group agreed and knocked back their drinks.

“Only if you’re buying.” I hit back wittily, knocking back the remainder of the liquid and feeling the tiniest burn on my throat. I held out my hand and she placed a fifty euro note in my hand. I laughed knowing she was being scaldy and reached into my pocket to pull out another fifty euro note.

“Pints again there Y/N, you’ll need at least another two before you get a fella.” Emma laughed loudly and I rolled my blurry eyes. I scooted past Max and Sammy in our booth, collecting the empty glasses before Alannah followed me to help me carry the pints.

“John, we’re gonna need another round,” I called out to the barman. He sauntered over and took the money out of my hands. I placed the empty glasses on the bar and Alannah stood against it

“I assume yous all want the same again. Orchard Thieves or Heineken?” He asked with a chuckle, his accent thick and warm.

“What do you take us for, fecking eejits? Orchard Thieves, ya bollocks.” Alannah laughed and John moved to pull the pints. 

Our group was quite large. We all kept in contact after school ended and it was rare that we were all together like old times. 

John had pulled the first two pints and Alannah took them over to the table. I waited for the next two and did the same. Alannah collected her last two and I waited for my pint to be pulled. John handed me back far too much money for what we got but I accepted it, knowing it’d be a lost war.

I picked up my glass and began to head back to the table until my journey was disrupted by a body colliding into me.

“Ah swinging Jaysus watch where you’re heading!” I exclaimed as my pint went all over the floor. I silently cursed more in my mind as I was known in this pub for constantly spilling drinks. John never minded pouring me another on the house but I always felt guilty.

“I barely understood that but I sincerely apologise and I’ll buy you another pint.” A British accent spoke apologetically. I sipped what was left in the glass before meeting the eyes of the English man in front of me.

“Holy Mother of Mary I’m bloody locked if I think I’m seeing Tom Holland.” I choked as my drink got caught in my throat. Tom’s hand came in contact with my back gently as I coughed. 

“You’re seeing Tom Holland love, don’t worry about being locked or whatever you called it. What’s your name?” Tom said with a slight chuckle in his voice. His hand left my back and I felt the remaining warmth

Just then, Faye came running over. She was drunk and probably thought I’d left in her state.

“Y/N, sweetheart you need to be more careful with your pi- OH MY GOOD JESUS IS THAT THE SPIDERMAN FELLA?” She shouted. Tom looked alarmed and he seemed to be looking for someone. I hit Faye a smack on the arm and she rubbed it gingerly.

“Faye head back to the table I’m getting a pint with Tom. I’ll be back in a minute.” I ushered her quickly towards the group and she began gossiping as soon as she sat down. The boys at the table bounced excitedly in their seats, wanted to meet the movie star.

“So, that pint?” Tom laughed as we walked to the bar beside each other. “What’re you drinking Y/N?”

“Thieves,” I said waving my hand to John. “It went on the floor John, you’re gonna need a mop.”

“Ah, it’s grand love don’t be worrying. The same for your fella as well?” He smirked.

“Um yeah, can we get three pints?” He asked politely as he shifted from one foot to the other. I looked at him sightly funny as he ordered the three. “Harrison should be here somewhere, MATE!” He shouted as he spotted him. Harrison walked through the crowded pub and greeted his friend. I could feel the alcohol taking effect and I could hardly believe that Tom Holland was buying me a pint.

“Who’s the girl Tom?” Harrison asked as our pints came and Tom paid.

“Y/N, Tom spilt my pint and he owes me one,” I said with a wave as I began to gulp down the cider. “My mates are at that table over there, do yous want to join us?” I asked feeling a bit confident. My mind was buzzing Tom Holland had just bought me a pint and I wasn’t going to lie to myself and say I wasn’t attracted to him. And I also quietly thought of Max and Sammy, the Marvel geeks who’d kill to chat to the web-slinging hero. 

“Drinking with the prettiest girl in the pub? How could I say no?” Tom said as Harrison patted his back. I let out an embarrassed giggle and led them to the booth where my friends sat staring at us.

“Hey Y/N, the pretty girl with the short blonde hair, what’s her name?” Harrison asked as we made our way through the crowd carefully.

“Her name’s Alannah. She’s studying human nutrition in Queen’s up in Belfast. Slide in on her I doubt she’d mind,” I whispered quickly. I saw Alannah glance our way and Harrison waved softly.

“Tom and Harrison are drinking with us tonight, no objections. Tom and Harrison, the gang. Gang, Tom and Harrison. Play nice you wallys,” I said plopping down beside Tom after Harrison took a place beside Alannah, introducing himself quickly.

The group began chatting, Sammy and Max asking Tom about Spiderman and the sort. Alannah and Harrison seemed to be hitting it off quite well. Soon enough Tom and I started having a chat of our own. We talked about life, my law course at uni and his acting career. We had scooched closer together after the second pint, the cosy pub creating a homely atmosphere.

“So Y/N, where is one place I have to visit while I’m here? I know about the Guinness Storehouse and all that jazz but what’s your favourite place?” Tom asked me quietly as the group chatted around us. Without hesitation, I answered.

“The Iveagh Gardens without question. It’s so beautiful. We’re heading to a concert there tonight if you and Harrison want to tag along, Emma will get you tickets in minutes.” I said with a wave to Emma. She nodded her head and began texting on her phone. “She’s owed a favour by the lads at Aiken.” Tom smiled widely and placed his arm around my shoulders. I felt my body stiffen at his touch but I rapidly moulded into his body, enjoying the heat it provided. 

“I’m sure it’s beautiful but I doubt anything I see will ever be as beautiful as you.” He whispered into my ear. My cheeks were already quite red from the pints I’d been drinking but I swear at that moment I was officially a tomato.

“Y/N, polish off your drink there it’s nearly 10. Gates are opening in fifteen minutes. It's not too far a walk but you know what we’re like.” Max spoke to me across the table. He completed his pint as the table began to finish up their drinks and grab their coats.

My pint remained virtually untouched, Tom’s stunning eyes distracting me from it. Me being myself, I couldn’t let a good and full pint go to waste so, I did what any good Irish girl would. I decided to neck it.

“Hey Y/N watch it!” Tom laughs as he watches me intently.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s done it more than once.” Jess laughed. The girls started playing a drumroll on the table as I continued to knock back my pint. Tom’s eyes glinted with something I couldn’t quite place but he clapped loudly with the others as I slammed my glass onto the mahogany table.

“Right darlings, let us head to the gardens of Iveagh to hear the kings play,” I announced as I tugged on my leather jacket and grabbed my bag.

“The Kings? Are they some cool Irish band or something?” Tom asked as our group began to leave the pub.

“No silly, I just call them that. It’s a benefit concert for the homeless and there are tons of great Irish artists playing the gig. Walking On Cars, Keywest, Inhaler, Kodaline and the greatest band to come out of Dublin City, Aslan.” I waved goodbye to the barmen and John as the warm July air greeted me.

Tom looked visibly confused as we followed the group out onto the cobbled streets of Temple Bar.

“I’ve never heard of them before. Are they any good?” He asked curiously as we began our walk to the park at the back of the group. I could see Harrison and Alannah chatted animatedly and smiled to myself. I was hoping things would go well with the pair.

“Well you see, they were huge in the eighties. My ma was a huge fan of them and ended up becoming mates with them. She and her friends used to get all-access passes to the gigs in The Towers in Ballymun and they’d have a mental time.” I finished quickly with a sigh. My cheeks burned as Tom’s gaze held mine as we trudged up Grafton Street, the sound of buskers and their music made my heart warm.

“If they’re any good I might become of groupie myself.” Tom laughed as we passed by the gates of St Stephen’s Green.

“Luas! Quick leg it!” I shouted as the tram began to move along the tracks. MY group of friends yelled loudly as they rushed to get the other side of the tracks in one piece. Seeing that Tom had no idea what I was on about, I grabbed his hand and pulled him across the tracks with me, the two of us laughing loudly as we broke our hands apart to have a spontaneous race to the top of Harcourt Street.

We finished our race out of breath with Tom winning by the skin of his teeth. I want to emphasis that strongly. Skin. Of. His. Teeth.

“Not bad at all. But please tell me we’re almost there, I could use a drink.” Tom laughed as his body heaved, begging for air to enter his lungs.

“It’s a two-minute walk but we’ll need to wait for Emma. She has the tickets and I’ll have to name drop so we can get barrier.” I breathed, placing my hands on my knees as I gasped for air with a smile.

“You are one of a kind aren’t you Y/N.” Tom grinned as I looked up at him from my defeated position.

“Mr Holland, what  in the world do you mean by that?” I let out a schoolgirl’s giggle and silently kicked myself in the arse. I’d known this handsome man for no less than three hours and was slightly tipsy but that was beside the point. As I stared into his eyes, my heart began to burn with a feeling I hadn’t ever felt before.

“What I mean is, you don’t meet a girl like you ever Millenium. You’re unique and funny and seem to have the coolest life. I don’t want this night to end. Ever.” He replied. My cheeks flushed with an unknown feeling. My heart was fit to burst and I finally had the strength to straighten myself into an upright position.

“I’ll have you know that the night hasn’t even started yet. Our little group is on our tail so we’ll be in the gates where our night will begin in a matter of minutes.” I smiled. He stared back at me with a mixture of relief and happiness. “And this is completely off record, but when the night officially starts, I don’t think I’m going to want it to end either.”

He let out a breathy chuckle and took my hand in his as the group caught up to us. Alannah and Harrison were snuggled closely together thanks to Harrison’s arm perched around her shoulder. She sent a giddy smile my way and my heart exploded with pride. She had truly grown up now.

Our group seemed to be louder than the whole queue combined and it was no different when Emma flashed the tickets to gain us entry into the beautiful park. I had to become a storyteller to try and convince the lovely security man, Declan, to let us in to get barrier, but it turns out I didn’t have to.

“L/N? As in your mother is Y/M/N? Christy has you all sorted don’t worry. Take it as the babysitting money.” Declan smiled at me. I let out a laugh and thanked him graciously before he led us into the park for prime standing room.

“Whatever you need, just ask. Drinks are free. Christy’s orders. I’ll grab yous all some pints and I’ll be back in a few.” Declan smiled. We all shouted our thanks and stood to wait for the band to come on.

The 10 minutes came and went. Soon enough Aslan’s set began and I truly had an out of body experience. Tom kept his arm gripped around my waist as the set went on. I felt warmth and safety with his arm around me. 

“Oh my god, this is my favourite song!” I let out a loud yell as the chords of their song Crazy World were heard out of the speakers. Tom laughed as I wiggled out of his grasp to down my pint and start dancing. Everyone in the park could feel the cosmic energy that the band emitted as they played their most famous song.

Tom joined me in my dance, spinning me around and acting the eejit as I screamed the lyrics at the top of my lungs. When we locked eyes through our hazy, adrenaline-induced vision I felt like home could be anywhere as long as I saw his eyes.

“What would you do if I kissed you right here, right now?” Tom shouted over the noise as my breath caught in my throat. My mind went completely blank as I let my ‘fuck it’ mentality kick in. I did what any good Irish girl would do. I kissed him. Pure. Bliss.

In that very minute, Dublin became even fairer. And I had never felt more alive.

[benhardyisdaddy]

Just Between Us - Part 1

MASTERLIST 

(hello this is the story from the ask i was sent!!! im actually really excited bc ANGST ANGST and ANGST sksks this is just the first part and im excited for the second cuz i have so much planned. its not gonna be a slow burn i promise lmao i hope u all like this ily ALSO i DO NOT condone cheating whatsoever idc, im only writing about it for the sole purpose of the story idea that was given to me) 

Word Count: 2,302

“What do you mean you’re going on tour?”

Your best friend Freddie was sat in front of you at a small cafe he invited you to. The biggest smile ever filled his face as explains to you that his band, Queen, was taking off and fast too. He leans in closer and his eyes are wide with excitement.

“I mean exactly just that! Our management got a tour set for us! We’re going everywhere I always dreamed of going to, which is why I’m inviting, no, demanding you to come with us.”

Your eyes open wide as you laugh at his silly statement. You suddenly realize that he’s not joking and you stop. You shake your head and lean forward as well.

“Fred,” you start. “I can’t drop everything and leave. Besides, you have Mary. She should be the one going.”

“She can’t go. I was going to ask the both of you, because you’re the only person that can keep my feet on the ground. If you don’t go, I might actually go mad.”

He looks almost scared as he speaks to you. It breaks your heart knowing that you’re the only source of realism for this man. The way he clings to you as if you’re the very air he breathes. He needed comfort and you, his bestest friend in the whole world, were exactly just that. Like a security blanket he can hold onto when he gets scared. He watches you and looks down at his intertwined hands that are sat on the table. You think for a moment before slowly reaching forward and placing yours on top of his. He looks up fast as a gleam of hope washes over him. You softly smile at him.

“You better get ready to support me when I tell my job I’m leaving.”

Freddie’s once anxious look turns into another huge grin as he nods his head fast and stands up quickly, scooting his chair back. You stand as well as he rushes around the table and engulfs you into a tight hug.

“You’re my best friend. I’ll give you everything your heart desires.”

He pulls away as the two of you look at each other. You bring your hand up and stroke his cheek as he leans into it.

“And you’re my best friend, which is why I’m giving up literally everything for you.” you half tease, causing him to giggle.

“I promise you won’t regret this.” he whispers.

You smile and cup his face gently with both of your hands.

“I know.”

But sometimes promises just couldn’t be kept.

***

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

You stir around in your bed, now being awaken from a deep sleep you were enjoying. Today was the day the band would set off for their very first world tour. You had spent the last few weeks preparing yourself for the long adventure ahead. Mary had helped you pack four suitcases full of clothes and items you would need for the months ahead. And, of course, Freddie helped pay for all of it. When he makes a promise to you, he always keeps it. Or at least tries to.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

You roll over to your side and finally open up your eyes. That was most definitely knocking at your front door. You glance over at your bedside clock and squint your blurry eyes to make out 5:23 AM. You exhale and rub your eyes with your hands, trying to get rid of this fogginess in your head. Your nerves were insane at the moment too. Yeah, you were traveling with your best friend whom you’ve known since you were 5, but you were also traveling with a band who you have still have yet to meet. Ever since Fred joined this band, he’s been so busy with recording and writing new material. You’ve been so busy with your job as a receptionist and trying to make your failed relationship work, which wasn’t going well. You were terrible with goodbyes, so your soon to be ex would be greeted with a harsh slap in the face when he realizes you’ve left for a different country with another man. Men. Four men to be precise. You were eager to meet them and make a good impression.

“They’ll love you just like I do. They’ll see exactly what I see.” says Fred, helping you pack away some clothes.

“Fred, you make it sound like I’m something special.” you laugh as you tease.

He stops packing and looks up to you fast, his smile falling from his face as he suddenly gets serious. You pause as well and look to him.

“Because you are something special, y/n. Don’t you dare ever think less.”

You sleepily smile to yourself as you remember that conversation when suddenly another loud knock is at your door. You had completely forgotten about it and jump up from bed. You scurry around your dark room and try to find your robe. You eventually find it and slip it on, tying the string around your waist. You rush out of your room and attempt to fix your bed head.

“Who is it?” you yell out.

“It’s the one and only, darling! Now will you open the door, please?”

You smile to yourself as you turn the lock and open the door wide open. You freeze in your tracks and your eyes open wide. You were thinking you’d be greeted by one man at your door, not four. They all stare you up and down as they smile. Fred looks quite pleased with himself as he makes his way into your tiny apartment. Your tiny apartment that was not visitor friendly. You had been so busy with getting ready for the trip, you sort of put aside your clean up duties. As Fred walks inside, you move over allowing the others to follow behind him. Curly one, quiet one and blonde one, you think to yourself as they walk by. The blonde one glances over to you and smirks, causing you to look away fast and search for Fred.

“Freddie, it’s five in the morning. Why in bloody hell are you raiding my apartment?” you ask, walking up to him.

He’s just emerged from your kitchen holding a few glasses and a champagne bottle. He holds them up and smiles.

“Today’s the day we leave for the tour. Celebrating needs to start as early as possible!” he exclaims.

“I’m so sorry for intruding.” says the curly haired one.

“Yes, we tried to tell him not to bother you, but you know Fred…” says the quiet one.

You softly smile to them as the curly haired one holds out his hand for you to take.

“I’m Brian by the way. Nice to meet you.” he says sweetly.

You shake his hand and blush.

“And this is John,” he says as John holds his hand out for you. “And this is-”

“Roger.” says the blonde one walking up to you.

He holds his hand out as well and you take it. You can feel the hard calluses on his hands and instantly recognize him as the drummer.

“Nice to meet you.” you say, your eyes never leaving his.

You realize you were staring as you suddenly pull your hand back and look to the others.

“Nice to finally meet all of you.” you say fast.

Freddie walks up to you and hands you a glass of champagne as he sips on his.

“Fred,” you start. “I don’t think I should be drinking at almost six in the morning.”

He laughs and chugs the rest of his drink down fast.

“Darling, we’re rockstars now. This is a glimpse of your new life.”

All of the boys shake their heads and laugh as you smile at him. Roger walks up to you and looks around.

“Where’s your loo?” he asks.

“Oh, it’s in my bedroom on the right. Door should be open.”

He smiles and winks to you as he makes his way to it. Your stomach flips as you turn back to Fred.

“Alright, rockstar, at least let me change before you get me drunk before noon.” you tease as you walk to your bedroom and straight to a suitcase.

You unzip it and pull out the outfit you had planned for that day. You place it on your bed and turn around to grab some undergarments as your bathroom door opens up. Roger walks out and spots you, your back facing him. He smiles and watches you for a moment before speaking.

“So, you’re going on tour with us, huh?” he asks, making you jump and spin around.

You had almost forgotten he was in the bathroom. You nervously smile and nod.

“Freddie has a way of making me do what he wants.” you jokingly say.

Roger lifts a brow and laughs as he watches you grab your clothes from the bed.

“Lucky man.” he says before exiting your room.

You’re stood there by yourself as you stare at your door speechless. You come back to reality as you walk to your bathroom and take a quick shower and change. You finish getting around as you pack up the rest of your essentials that you will need for tomorrow. You place them in your luggage and walk back in the living room. Brian and John are sat on your tiny couch as Fred and Rog are stood by your kitchen counter, sipping on their drinks. They all go quiet as you walk out and you can feel your cheeks heat up. You walk up to Fred and take the glass from his hand and quickly chug it down. All of their faces turn into a mixture of shocked and impressed.

“Now she’s getting with it!” shouts Fred, making you laugh.

“If I’m gonna be stuck with you for months, I think I’ll need it.” you say winking at him.

“Smart girl.” calls out Brian.

Fred rolls his eyes then claps his hands together loudly, causing you all to jump.

“Well, we should get going.” he states as he walks in the living room.

“I thought we didn’t fly out until noon?” you ask, confused.

“Plans might’ve changed.” he says, spinning to face you. “The boys will help carry your bags to the van. Right?” he asks, looking at all of them.

They all nod and murmur yes as they stand up and look at you. You smile to them and show them all of the luggage you were taking. They oblige and begin rolling them out to the van.

“Are you ready?” asks Fred with a smile plastered to his face.

You take in a deep breath and smile back.

“As much as I can be.”

***

“Fred.” you say sternly.

You’re standing in front of the tiniest airplane you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s thin and short and you didn’t trust it one bit.

“I thought we were taking a regular plane.” you say, looking at him.

“This is a plane, darling. A jet actually.”

“A death machine.” states Roger, walking past you two and up the stairs of the jet.

“I hate flying, let alone on a plane this small.” you whine.

“Well like I said, we’re rock-”

“Rockstars. I get it.” you say, finishing his sentence.

He smiles to you and begins walking towards the plane. You follow behind him as you walk up the stairs and enter inside. It was tiny. A lady dressed in a white dress and her hair pinned up greets you with a warm smile.

“Would you like me to take your coat?” she asks sweetly.

You smile and thank her as you shrug it off and she takes it. You look around and watch as all of the boys admire the features of the inside. They go through the mini bar and mess around with everything they could touch. You shakily make your way to a two person seat and look out the window. A man who you assume is the pilot walks out of the cockpit and smiles to you all.

“Are we all ready?” he asks.

Suddenly, you hear a shout and look towards the opening of the plane. A man rushes up the steps all out of breath and holds up a hand.

“Sorry I’m late. Nobody bothered to tell me about the time change.” he says, looking at Fred.

Freddie just smiles and walks up to you.

“Y/n, this is our lawyer Miami. Miami, this is the most amazing human I know, y/n.”

You blush at his compliment as Miami reaches his hand out for you to shake.

“Miami?” you ask, confused at such an odd name.

He playfully rolls his eyes which makes the boys all laugh.

“Don’t ask.” he murmurs.  

Everyone takes their seats as someone sits beside you. You turn thinking it would be Fred, but it’s not. It’s Roger. You’re a bit surprised as you turn around to spot Fred watching you. He shrugs confused as he sits next to John. Roger smiles to you and you return one. You look forward and make sure your seat belt is buckled. The intercom pops on and the pilot speaks.

“Our flight is about to take off, so please make sure you’re seated and buckled in just like how the stewardess showed you. Our destination from London to Tokyo, Japan will be approximately eleven hours and forty minutes. I’ll let you all know when it’s safe to unbuckle and roam around. Have a good flight.”

You look to Roger quickly and your face falls.

“Japan!?” you ask.

He doesn’t know what to say to that. You look behind at Fred as he notices your nervous expression.

“Japan!?” you ask again even louder.

He awkwardly smiles and raises his shoulders a bit.

“Surprise?”

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[all-the-love-harold]

Chapter 16- Goodbye For Now

Master post 

Come and Talk about Harry and Poppy 

Previously: 

Danny lived on the other side of London in a dingy old flat that Harry was only able to find because he’d been there once before, to help Danny bring some supplies to set for the photoshoot.  He climbed up the stairs, opening lines running through his head “Do you really want a kid mate?”, “you don’t know the first thing about being a dad”, “You can’t just swoop in now, after everything you’ve put her through and expect to be a happy family.” None of them would do, he knew what he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to say it – He needed Danny to know how much he’d hurt Poppy, and how much this baby meant to her, but there were no words that could express how both Poppy and Harry felt about this baby.

Harry reached the top of the stairs on Danny’s floor and made his way down the hallway to his door, a boozy smell surrounding it. He drew in a deep breath and knocked on the door, unsure what he’d be greeted with. After a few seconds, a drunken Danny answered the door, squinting at the harsh light in the hallway.

“What the fuck do you want dick head?” He slurred at Harry “Come to buy my silence or summat?”

****

“I just want to talk” Harry said, scrunching his nose at the smell omitting from Danny’s apartment

“It’s not your kid- it’s not your business” Danny slurred

“Well, she’s my wife, so it is my business”

“So she does suck your cock to get your money” he laughed “Good at it isn’t she?”

Harry drew in a breath, in an attempt to calm himself “Don’t you dare talk about her like that, she’s wanted this for too long and I won’t let you come in and ruin it for her”

“Ruin it? I gave it to her, didn’t I? If I remember correctly you were the one that set us up”

“And if I remember correctly, you said you didn’t want a thing to do with it”

“Didn’t” he hiccupped “do now”

“You can’t just swoop in and pretend everything’s been fine” Harry said through gritted teeth “it hasn’t been fine, this isn’t a fairy tale”

“You married her like it was one” Danny countered back

“That has nothing to do with it, our marriage is between us, but I can’t let you come in and ruin this for her, she’s waited too long to have this baby, she knows you didn’t want it and she gave you an out” he sighed heavily “take it”

“I’ll take it, as long as you have nothing to do with the kid either”

Harry looked at him incredulously, amazed how petty he was and confused about what he had done to make Danny hate him so much “I guess you’ll be talking to my lawyers pretty soon then.” He stepped away from the door and took his car keys out of his pocket and walked away, wanting to say more, to make sure he went away, but remembering what Poppy had said just before he left.

The drive home was a haze, he couldn’t remember how he got there, his mind too busy running through potential scenarios in his head. He wanted to understand where Danny was coming from, if he was in that situation, would he be acting the same way? Sure, he’d want to be apart of his baby’s life, but not out of spite. There weren’t many normal things in his life, but Poppy and this baby were his chance at the life he’d always dreamed of, he couldn’t let Danny in and ruin it.

“H?” Poppy called as she heard the front door slam shut. Silence. She stood from the couch, and left her mum  watching the 7pm news and walked towards the entryway. As she rounded the corner, she saw Harry, walking up the stairs to their bedroom, looking defeated “Harry” she said softly.

He turned his head, running his head through his hand “I need to call my lawyer again”

“What happened?” she asked, walking up the stairs to meet him

“He’ll go away if I go away” he refused to make eye contact with her again “I’m going to call my lawyer, see about a divorce”

Poppy looked at him in disbelief, “divorce?” she whispered, aware that her mum was probably listening in “That’s not a solution Harry”

He heard Linda shuffling around in the next room and took Poppy’s hand, leading her into the bedroom, closing the door behind him “You’ve wanted this your entire life Poppy, I can’t be the reason you don’t get it” tears were forming in his eyes now, as he came to the realisation that this was all his fault.

“Harry” Poppy wrapped her arms around his waist “I want a family with you, this little prince is as much your son as he is mine, no one in their right mind is going to take him away from me, which means that they’re not taking him away from you”

“If I’m out of the picture, Danny goes away”

“I don’t want you out of the picture, I can’t do this alone” the room was dark, lit only by light from the street lamp that flooded in forming shadows on their faces “We’ll figure out what’s going to happen with Danny, but you see these” she toyed with wedding rings on each of their fingers “these mean we’re in this together”

He smiled weakly at her “This entire situation is my fault, you know”

“Hey” she lifted his head so that he was looking at her “You’re not the one who slept with a stranger, because she was too afraid to tell her best friend that he was the love her life”

“You forgot the bit where you forgot to use a condom” he smirked

She giggled, resting her head on his shoulder “shut it Styles”

“Don’t be silly” he laughed “wrap your willy”

“Ok” she said, taking her arms away from his waist “I’m leaving now” she turned and walked out the door “you call your lawyer, get us an appointment for tomorrow morning and  I’ll sort out dinner because clearly you forgot”

“Sorry” he called as he watched her walk back down the stairs “I’ll only be five minutes and then we can work dinner out”

***

September 12th 2017 – 22 Weeks  

Harry had Poppy up early the next morning, so that they could meet with his new lawyer. The meeting was set up for 8am, because Poppy had to get to work and Harry had to pack for tour. With the wedding and everything else that was happening, the start date for his tour was quickly creeping up on him, and now it was the day that he was set to leave for the American leg, and he was yet to pack a single item.

The mornings were starting to get cold now, so Poppy grabbed her coat from the wardrobe and poured her morning tea into a travel mug while Harry got dressed. When the were both ready, they left the house in silence, mostly because they were still waking up and they found it much easier to be quiet at this time of the morning.

They followed the legal secretary into an empty conference room and sat down in the two chairs at the end of the long table. Harry was nervous, Poppy could tell by the way he was playing with his lips and she had to admit, she was feeling the nerves too. She knew that no one was going to take the baby off her, but she didn’t want him to have the confusion that came with shared custody.

“Mr and Mrs Styles” an older man, with a kind smile walked in holding a file “I’m John” he held out his hand and Poppy and Harry both shook it.

“Thanks for meeting us on such short notice” Harry said, taking his seat again

“My pleasure Mr Styles”

“Please” he said “call me Harry”

“Alright, Harry, why don’t you give me the rundown on this situation, Kate’s given me the general overview, but I’ll admit I was a little confused”

“Fair enough” Poppy nodded her head and John smiled at her

“Basically, the baby isn’t mine, we weren’t together when he was conceived, but now we’re married the father suddenly wants custody”

“How much do we know about the father’s financial situation”

“He’s unemployed, but he was paid quite well from a job that he did a few months ago” harry said and Poppy smiled to herself, knowing exactly that Harry had offered him opportunity because he needed it.

John took down some notes on his legal pad “what about his living situation?

“He lives in an old one bedroom flat in Hackney” Poppy said

“and has he filed any motions for custody yet?” John asked, putting his pen down

“Not yet” both Poppy and Harry said

“Right- and Harry, Kate mentioned something about him wanting you out of the picture?”

“I went to talk to him last night and he told me that if I had nothing to do with the baby, then he wouldn’t either” Harry said, putting his hand on Poppy’s knee

“Ok” john said, looking through some of the papers in the file he’d brought with him “Because there hasn’t been any custody motions filed yet, there’s very little we can do, but what I’m going to suggest is that, when the little bundle of joy is born Harry adopts him, which makes you both the child’s legal parents.” Poppy looked over at Harry and saw that he was trying to hide a smile “that will make it harder for the biological father to be granted custody when and if he does file for it” John saw the unsettled look on Poppy’s face and continued “I don’t know a judge that would grant full or even part custody to parents in such vastly different situations, so more than likely, the most the fellow will get is weekly visitation rights”

“Good” Poppy said smiling at Harry who beamed back at her, obviously excited about the adoption

“Am I right in saying your leaving the country today?”

“I am” Harry nodded “Poppy’s staying here, that’s not a problem is it?”

“No, not at all, there’s not much we can do until he’s born anyway, I think it’s pretty unlikely that the father will find a lawyer that will file a custody suit for an unborn child, because they almost always end in the mothers favour, so we’ve got nothing to worry about for now” John nodded “I’ll have the adoption papers drawn up, and if you’ve decided on a name, I can have it all ready to file once he arrives”

Both Poppy and Harry looked at each other, in all the chaos of the last few weeks, from moving in together to deciding to get married and having to organise a last minute wedding, the thought of a name for their little prince had never even crossed their minds. “He, uh, doesn’t have a name yet” harry said quietly

“That’s fine” John took out his pen and scribbled a few more notes on his legal pad “I can have it all ready anyway, and once he’s born all we’ll have to do is have you both sign the forms and fill his name in – when are you due Poppy?”

“Early to mid-December, I have two different C-section dates set, he’s likely to come early because of a medical condition that I have”

“Ok” John nodded “If you don’t mind me asking, has this been a complicated pregnancy?”

“It’s considered high risk” Poppy admitted, putting her hand over Harry’s which was still resting on her knee

“And has there been extra costs associated with that?” he asked, looking at her sympathetically

She looked to Harry, who nodded at her to continue “Yeah, in the first trimester I had to have weekly scans, which incurred an extra cost, and once I reach 30 weeks, I’ll be having them weekly again”

He scribbled that down “And I know this might seem invasive, but it may be helpful when and if the father sues for custody, were the costs covered by yourself or Harry?”

“Harry” she said, squeezing his hand

“I’ll make note of that” John said, scribbling it down “It may be irrelevant, but his absence during a complicated pregnancy is definitely something to be used against him”

“Great” she smiled

“Ok, I think that’s about all we can do for today, I’ll make sure those adoption papers are ready as soon as possible, just in case we need them sooner, and Poppy I might get your email address too, because it might be easier to contact you while Harry’s away” he said, handing her a pen and his legal pad

“Of course”, she wrote down her work email, and handed him back the pen “Thank you for all your help”

“You’re welcome” John opened the door and ushered them both out. Harry held her hand as you walked down the hallway and out the door, both feeling much less nervous about the whole situation now.

“Feel like being late to work today” Harry asked as they both got back into his car

“Depends” she said, trying to suss out his plans

“Breakfast? Like old times, at that café that Ali used to work at?”

She gave him the side eye and looked at him suspiciously “wanting to run into ali again are we?”

“No” he said, without missing a beat “just like the food there”

She giggled and rested her head on his shoulder as he put the car in reverse to get out of the parking spot “I’ll text big boss ben and tell him I’ll be late- Mumma’s hungry”

***

The rest of Poppy’s day was a nightmare, the second she walked into the office she was bombarded with things to do, emails to answer, and a spread to organise for London Grammar who were in for their Live Lounge performance. She also had to 3 meetings to go to with Ben, where she had to be concentrating enough to take notes, so by the time she made it home she was exhausted. But she didn’t have time to rest now, Harry’s flight left in a few hours and she had to make sure he was packed and ready to go before she took him to the airport.

“Dinner first. Pack later” Harry said to Poppy as she stressed about finding his favourite jumper that had gone missing in all chaos of her moving in “You have to feed my little boy in there”

“He’s not yours yet styles” she  smiled at him

“Heyy” he looked up from the kitchen counter where he was serving her dinner for her “Eat. I’ll go look for the jumper one last time”

She gave in, taking a seat at the kitchen table to eat her meal. She was starving, she hadn’t realised how hungry she was until she took her first bite, and before she knew it she’d finished it and were onto her seconds

“Found it!” Harry yelled from upstairs and Poppy rolled her eyes

“Where was it?” she yelled back, mouth full of food

He walked back into the kitchen, holding the jumper up triumphantly “was in your drawer” he looked at her accusingly

“’s soft” she admitted “an it smells good and it fits the bump”

“Were you hiding it?” he asked, stealing a piece of chicken from her plate

“Maybe”

He looked at her, and back at the jumper, and back to her “Keep it love, I have plenty more that I can take”

“Are you sure?” she took the jumper from his hands and wrapped it around her shoulders “You love this jumper”

“I love you more” he kissed her cheek and served himself a plate of food.

Once they’d both finished eating, Harry took his bags out to the range rover and double checked that he had everything that he needed. His stylist had all of his suits packed up for him, all he needed to worry about was his casual clothes for between shows and a few bits and pieces to keep him entertained on the road.

“You ready?” he asked Poppy when he was satisfied that he had everything he’d need

“Yeah” she grabbed the keys off  their hook and opened the front door, she was driving him to the airport so that she could say a proper goodbye just before he got on the plane. This was something that she’d always done before he left for tour, even when she barely knew him, she drove him to the airport and made sure he got on the plane safely. This time was different, they were married now and this was his first time being on the road solo and by the time tour finished they could both be parents.

“I’ve written Jeff’s number down on a piece of paper and stuck it on the fridge” Harry said as they pulled up at a red light “if you need anything and I’m not picking up for whatever reason, he will and he’ll get any messages to me that you have”

“Thanks” she smiled

“And don’t forgot you need to be writing down all of your symptoms for your OB and you’ve got that growth scan on Friday so call me as soon as you know what going on and don’t forget to keep taking your vitamins and you..”

“Harry” Poppy said, interrupting him “I’ll be fine, Mum’s here to keep me on top of things, and I’ll keep you updated on everything that’s going on”

“And if Danny tries anything, call me”

“You know I will” she pulled up to the quick stay car park at Heathrow airport and helped Harry load his bags onto a trolley and as she walked up to the departures gate, Harry was met by airport security, in case there were any fans or paparazzi around.

“This is it love” he said as he reached the point where he had to check in. He wrapped his arms around her and she rested her head on his chest

“I’m going to miss you H”

“It’s only 3 and a half weeks love, then I’m home for two weeks before I go again”

“I know” she nodded, choking back a few tears

“I’ll miss you too” his said placing a kiss to her forehead “look after yourself”

“Gotta look after the little prince H”

He moved his hands from her waist to her belly “That’s right, our little Prince needs you to look after yourself”

“I love you Harry”

“I love you too Poppy” he kissed her again “We’ll do what we used to do yeah? I’ll facetime you everyday”

Poppy  nodded, pulling away from his hug and placed one last kiss on his hand as she removed it from her belly “Call me when you land.”

[bri-rog-deak-fred]

In Good Company (Part 4: Finale)

Brian May x Reader: The reader is the 5th member of queen, and she sleeps with Brian when they were both drunk and she finds out she’s pregnant half way through a tour, causing her to try and hide the pregnancy from everyone, especially Brian. Rock stars don’t have babies, right?

Note: Alrighty folks, the time has come!! This is the 4th part to the In Good Company series. Thank you to everyone who has read and continues to read this. It’s been a pleasure writing this all for you! Now, it does say finale, but I was thinking about writing maybe a BONUS part 5 about life having the baby with Brian. Let me know if anyone would interested in that sort of thing. Anyways, I’ll leave you to some angst to fluff. I sure enjoyed all of your company! Keep requesting, I have two new projects, a request and maybe a Cinderella-esque story, so keep an eye out for those! Kisses! xxx

PART 4:

 Many things ran through your mind, like why wasn’t the door locked? What were you going to say? Brian looks awfully faint… Uh-Oh. You felt your body drain of all warmth when you looked up and realized it was actually Brian staring at you and your middle, face twisting in odd concentration.

You act quickly, throwing the guitar to the side and swiftly moving across the room, pulling on a dressing robe, closing it quickly over your stomach, thanks to your ill-fitting night shirt. You felt your heart pound.

“You should’ve knocked.” Was the only thing you could muster, wishing you could shrink yourself and hide. Brian was still shocked. He swallowed and took in a deep breath. His hand found the back of his head, still desperately trying to understand why you were hiding something to huge.

“You’re…” He began finding himself still at a lose for words. You clenched your teeth, feeling your arms shaking. “You’re pregnant? Since when? How-“ Brian tried again, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. He opened his eyes again, trying once more. “You’re pregnant?” He asked, voice going up a few octaves, barely loud enough to hear.

You took in a deep sigh, wishing that the stars would grant you courage, but you still found yourself scared, and weak. “Yes. I’m pregnant.” You answer slowly, biting your cheek.

“Since when- No, how- Why didn’t you tell anyone? Brian questioned, quickly closing his mouth that had been hanging open. His face suddenly twisted into frustration and he crossed his arms. He blew out a long exhale, sounding exactly how he did when he was pissed during an audio take and Roger would goof off. It wasn’t a good sign. You couldn’t reply, not knowing how to answer, truthfully.

“So… You’re pregnant. You’re having a baby…and you just weren’t going to tell anyone? Not Freddie… Roger, John. Not even me?” His voice was harsh and annoyed, hanging on to a little jealousy too. “Just for you to go about, risking hurting yourself… or even the baby for that matter, every night on the stage and pushing yourself to exhaustion, and everyone away from you? What about when we get home? Did you think you were just going to come home one day with a baby and think hmmm, this’ll be fine?” Brian was getting more upset by the second, more frustrated than anything. He didn’t realize how loud he was being.

You felt your eyes sting and you pull in a shaky breath, feeling your chest tighten at Brian’s words. “I was being safe on stage, you know that. Tonight was different. I haven’t felt that close to you in ages! I’ve been safe! I-I couldn’t say anything, Bri. I couldn’t ruin this tour for us, for Queen. For anyone’s reputations. A baby would send the media crazy and suddenly there’ll be photographers peeping in through our windows. They’d make stories about you or Roger or Deaky or even Fred and I couldn’t do that to you all. I knew from the second I found out that I was pregnant that life would be very hard, hiding it or not. I honestly-  I don’t know what I’m going to do, I can’t do this alone…I just..I-I… I’m scared Brian.” You say, voice mixed with short gasps and tears beginning to fall. “I’m so scared.” You breath finally, hiding your face by burying your face in your hands.

Brian’s face immediately softened, feeling his heart pang for the poor girl in front of him. He let out a gentle sigh. Brian May bit his lip and shook his head, putting his hands on his hips. He walked around for a moment, just to come back to his same spot, heart breaking for you. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really had no idea. Y/N/N love, I’m sorry for yelling.” He said softly, feeling terrible for getting so upset, but you understood his anger and frustration. You felt the same way towards yourself. He looked at your figure and let out deep breath, slowly approaching you. He held out his arms and you were hesitant at first, but the look in his eyes was different. He gently held you, calming you momentarily, before he sat down with you, on the edge of the bed you had just been laying in.

He took in a deep breath and sat up straight, prompting you to do the same as you wiped you eyes with your sleeve. “I didn’t mean to get so upset, Y/N. I really didn’t. I hope you can forgive me for being this way. It’s just a difficult thing and I wouldn’t want any harm to come to you or the baby. I just care… so much for you. Having a baby is huge. It’s life changing for some and I really wish you would’ve told me. I thought I was your best friend.” Brian let out a gentle laugh, voice still soft and comforting. “Am I not your best friend?” He asked in a silly way, trying to meet your eyes through his eyelashes.

You swallow and look to him. “Brian, you’ll always be my best friend.” You smile, laughing gently too as more tears fell from your eyes. You sniffled and let out a breath. “It’s just… Brian.” You try, not knowing how to begin with bringing up the fact that you actually very much loved him and that you were carrying his child.

“Hmm, what?” He asked, tilting his head a little to look at your face. His eyes were hazel green once again. The same hazel green of that night.

“Do you remember anything that happened on our holiday that week we were driving through Arizona?” You ask very quietly, cheeks going pink with embarrassment from the memories that were all coming back and flooding your brain.

Brian gulped. “Yes, I-I do.” He answered. “Why’s that?” voice sounding a little suspicious.

“I’m not crazy, am I?” You ask, sighing and looking down to your stomach. “I just… I remember that we went out for drinks and that I asked you to come over to my room that night.” You begin, picking at your cuticles on your fingers. “And, if I’m not mistaken. I believe I told you that I loved you. Very much so and then we-“ You gasp a little, feeling your cheeks burn bright, eyes meeting Brian’s for a moment. You looked away.

“I always thought that maybe I had imagined that… or that I saw it in a dream or something.” Brian let out a breath of relief. “So, I really wasn’t dreaming? You love me and we actually …had sex?” Brian said, laughing slightly as he smiled greatly. “Afraid so. I thought maybe you had forgotten and I didn’t want to ruin a friendship over a drunken wet dream or something along those lines.” You say, chuckling with him too. “I just… I wanted to tell you that… I really do have feelings for you. You make me feel so safe and at home, Bri. I love every inch of you and the things you do. I love you, truly, Brian May.” You confess with watery eyes.  

“I love you, Y/N L/N. I don’t think I could love someone anymore.” He smiled, eyes shining with the light of the Milky Way.

You smile and laugh under your breath, shaking your head.

“There’s something else I should tell you, since my secret is out and I’m talking to you now.” You rolled your shoulders back and held your chin up high.

Brian’s face grew a little scared once more. ‘What more could happen now?’ He thought.

“Well, I’m sure you’re a little curious as to how this- “ You gesture to your round stomach. “-Happened.”

 Brian shrugged a little. “I’m sure whoever it was would be thrilled to know a rock goddess was having their child.” He said, trying to be chuffed, but inside he was a little jealous of the person, whomever they were.

“You… were… the first and only person I happened to have slept with on this entire tour.” You say, pursing your lips and looking around the room, before you found Brian’s face, hoping he understood.

Brian laughed, wondering how both of you could be so scared to even discuss it in the first place. He began to nod, tisking, not really understanding quite the reason behind you telling him your sex life, until it hit him like a tour bus. “Wait, you’ve only had sex with me? Wouldn’t that mean that…” He looked from you to your belly, back up to you. His face was absolutely astounded, surprised and smiling. “I’m going to be a dad?” He asked, soul blooming so wildly in his chest.

You couldn’t hold back your smile as you nodded in confirmation, your hand holding the side of your stomach for support and comfort.

“If you’d like… yes. I-I wouldn’t want anything more than to be yours and have this baby with you Bri.” You admit and took his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Only if you want, though. I know it’s very sudden for me to spring this onto you. Don’t think that I’m holding you back should you find someone else-“ You shook your head before Brian stopped you with a deep warm kiss, wrapping his arms around your body.

He held you so close, looking at you as if you were the most brilliant constellation in his universe. “I would like nothing more than to have this baby with you, Y/N. I would be honored to do this with you. I love you. But, I am going to have to take you on a few dates to know you better.” Brian joked and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We can even turn my room into a nursery if you’d like, when we get back.” Brian suggested, head swimming with thoughts of becoming a father and having a baby with Y/n’s beautiful eyes and her gorgeous Y/H/C hair.

“I love you too… so much Bri. I’m sorry about all of this.” You began.

Brian interjected before you could even start apologizing again. “No, I’m sorry for not noticing that any of this was going on. I should’ve known. I really should have.” He sighed and stood up. You stand with him. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to grab a few things, then I’ll be right back. I’m staying with you tonight.” He teased, shutting his eyes and pursing his lips. “Tonight and tomorrow night and the night after that…” You began, laughing and kissing his nose as he bent down until his face could meet yours. ”Forever.” He smiled. “Or until Queen breaks up.” You roll your eyes. “Hey, okay. Don’t say that.” Brian opens his with a dramatic gasp.

“Oh you know we’ll all be old and well into our 70’s still doing all of this. We’ll be relics, but legends. I just know it.” You beam, taking Brian’s hand. “Can I show you something quite incredible before it ends?” You ask, feeling a familiar flutter in your middle again.

“Oh, anything!” Brian said excitedly. You take a step back and untie your robe. You took in a deep breath and let it fall open. Brian’s eyes fell to your swollen belly feeling so oddly protective. His heart swelled knowing that it was his baby. He smiled fondly as you took his hands and gently placed them on your belly. You hiss, his fingers chilly against your sensitive skin.  You held up a finger to Brian, telling him to be patient. A few moments passed before you felt the kicks again and moved his calloused fingers a little more upwards.

Brian starred down in awe, feeling the tiny fluttering against his hand. “Oh wow….” He said so softly, voice ever so gentle and calm. “They’re so strong already, my goodness. Oh my goodness.” He kept repeating, unable to process it fully. “They really only started doing that today. All through the show tonight. I felt the strong flutters every now and again. It makes it feel all the more real. Even to me too.” You sniffle and feeling a very strong urge to protect this child you were giving life to.

Brian looked up to you with teary eyes and stifled back a cry of joy. You would always remember the way he looked up in such admiration as he got to experience the baby for the first time. You felt guilty that you hadn’t just told him in the first place. “That’s really our baby, isn’t it?” He breathed out, feeling pure unadulterated joy, getting down to his knees. You let out a heavy sigh, placing your hands on your back, feeling a little twinge by the base of your spine.

Brian pressed a gentle kiss to where the flutters were occurring, before you heard him beginning to whisper softly. You smile fondly, feeling as though your heart would explode from the happiness and domestic moment you had always longed for with Brian.

“What are you saying, dear?” You asked, eyes finding Brian’s. He had a cheeky smile on his face.

“I’m telling our little one how much I really do love their mother, and how proud I am to be called their father… and that they will never be a drummer.” He hummed, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his comment.

“Go get your things, Bri. We need to rest. We’ll need to have a chat with everyone once we’re on the tour bus back to the airport.” You help him stand, kissing once more.

And so he did, leaving to grab his things. You put your robe back on and stood in the door way, helping him move his things inside so both could share a space together once again.

When he was finally settled, you both were excitedly talking about the baby and plans for it, leading to Brian waiting to feel the baby kick once more, and then you two cuddling up in bed, Brian holding you so securely. You nuzzled your face into his chest, inhaling his scent so deeply. He smelled so wonderful you couldn’t help but shiver. Brian noticed and silently pulled the covers up a little more to warm you up, thinking that maybe you had shivered from getting cold. You pressed a gentle kiss to his sternum, feeling him return the kiss gently to the top of your head. You finally drift off to sleep, feeling so happy and whole with Brian at your side.

 After everyone had finally woken up and started to pack all their things, you couldn’t help but feel nervous having to tell your band mates about your pregnancy and relationship with Brian. You look through your clothes, picking at the many things you wish you could be wearing, but you sigh and frown.  Brian notices your struggle. “You know, I don’t think you really need to hide it anymore.” He said, coming behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Plus, I think you look stunning like this. You are a true vision of Aphrodite.” He hummed and kissed your cheek.

“Are you saying I should wear nothing?” You giggle, playfully tickling his side. You sigh and click your tongue. You rummage through your suit case and find a beautiful bright red sun dress that had ruffled baby doll sleeves and a high waist line. It was long and flowed down your legs. It would actually hide your stomach perfectly. You smile at it, remembering wearing it that night you danced with Brian.

“Close your eyes for a second.” You say, smiling to yourself as you hid the red dress from Brian’s view.

He put his hands over his eyes. “Uhm… why?” He asked. “Just wait a moment.” You say, struggle in your voice as you undress and get the red dress on over your head. Your chest was a little too big for the top of the dress, hoping your boobs weren’t as fully on display as you felt, but the rest hung off your body perfectly. You quickly strap on a par of wooden wedge heels and fixed your hair, ruffling it up a little. You let out a deep sigh, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. “Okay.” You said quietly.

Brian opened his eyes and found you, eyes widening at the sight of you in the beautiful red dress you had gotten from New Orleans. He drank in every ounce of your being, from your gorgeously feathered hair, to the read capped sleeves that sat lightly around your shoulders. Or the lovely, tiny tied white bow on the front of the dress, heaving as your chest did with every breath. The lovely flowing red fabric over your body, and your hands to your sides as your belly poked through the dress only slightly.

“What do you think? Is it too much?” You ask, hoping his silence was for good reason. “Out of the whole universe, how did I get so lucky to have had so many moments created for me just for this one to occur? I’m… You steal my breath away, Y/N.” Brian said, head almost feeling dizzy with your beauty. A true Renaissance painting you were. And you were his.  “I think you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever saw.” He says quietly.

You blush hard, feeling your throat tighten. “Bri..” You laugh and hide your face from embarrassment. You shook your head. “Come on, they’ll leave without us.” You say and press a kiss to his cheek as you begin grabbing all your things. You throw your faux fur jacket on about to pick up one of your suitcases before Brian swiped it up first. “Nope. No heavy lifting, Y/N.” He said, struggling with all his bags. “I’ll be okay, Brian. You have a lot of your own. We’re just taking it to the bus.” You chuckle and grab your bags and guitar case.

 Once everyone was settled on the bus, you all chit chatted while the bus began its last stretch of the journey to the nearest airport. You sat next to Brian, hands occasionally brushing up against each other’s as you talked with Freddie over a riveting game of scrabble. You watched Brian play his words, gaining a great idea about how to tell your friends about your news. “I call next round.” You say, squinting your eyes around the table at John and Roger and then Freddie, sending him a suspicious grin and a wink.

Once Freddie was declared winner (yet again, somehow), you take the bag of playing tiles, shaking them up quite a bit. “Alright, I’m sure they’re shuffled, Y/N. You’re not going to win by warming them up.” Roger laughed, ashing his cigarette in a glass bowl behind him, on a window ledge.

“Just hold on.” You roll your eyes at him and begin to spell out words on the board, getting confused looks all around. You smiled quite proudly to yourself when you were done, turning it around so the boys sitting across from you could read it.

Across the board you had spelled out:

        I M PREGNANT

Freddie starred before looking up to you with a wide-open mouth. “What?!” He shrieked.

John smiled happily to you, chuckling to himself and your little secret with him.

Roger took a moment longer, looking at you and then to Brian and then back to you. He looked back to the words and then back up, before it struck him. “You’re having a baby! Holy shit!” He shouted, laughing. Freddie climbed over the seat, standing by your side, scooping you up into a large hug. “Congratulations! Oh my goodness, my dearest darling, you’re having a baby!” Freddie laughed wildly. Everyone had huge smiles and felt so happy for you. “You shouldn’t just be congratulating me, though.” You say and Freddie looks at your face lips pulled taught. “What do you mean by that? Roger, what did you do!” He accused him, flipping his hair, turning to him with his hands on his hips and a sour look on his face. John and Brian laugh too.

Roger gasped and shook his head. “No! No! I didn’t do anything I swear!” He began defending himself like a little school boy. You laugh hard, cheeks turning bright pink. “No, Fred. It wasn’t Roger.” You grab Freddie’s hand, meet his eyes once again.  Brian cleared his throat and stood, his hand hesitant before it wrapped around your waist. He looked to everyone and then to you. All the boys were silent, and Freddie looked to Brian’s face, smile pulling hard at his face, enough for tears to form in his eyes.

 “Brian and I are having a baby.” You say and hold on to Brian’s hand.

 Freddie got choked up, taking a moment to collect himself as he broke down from happiness, fanning his eyes. “Oh look at me! You’ve made me a into a bubbling mess!” He said, laughing softly. “Oh lovies, I never thought it would happen, you two were too stupid to see your feelings. Congratulations, my darlings.” He said, playfully punching Brian’s arm before pulling you in a great hug. The punch to Brian had everyone starting to laugh, apart from Roger. He quietly fumed in the corner. You notice and look to him, biting your lip.

“Roger? What’s wrong?” You asked, pressing your back against Brian’s chest.

“I owe Freddie 50 quid for betting you two wouldn’t actually get together, and I owe John another 20 quid for betting that Brian wouldn’t have any sex on this tour.” He huffed. Brian send up a look of daggers and you couldn’t help but snicker.

“Dear, you’ll have to let me help decorate the nursery.” Freddie began, taking your hands and sitting back down, talking up and down about the baby and how excited he was for you both. Roger insisted that his new name would have to be Uncle Rog, the cool uncle. Once you got a second with John, he began to babble on and on about his baby and what he and Veronica had been through and suggested that you all have a double date and discuss. You smiled, finding yourself in truly good company.

(let me know if you wanna be) Tagged: @sleep-paralysis-demon @mazzello-lee-jones-malek @t0r @geek-and-proud @im-grac3ful-but-fi3rc3 @kellypenac @awkwardangelshezza @brenna-xoxox @leah-halliwell92 @kiwi-coconut-dreams @sunflower-borhap-boys @fruityfreddie @neymarlionelmessi7 @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives @stephydearestxo 

[chyrstis]

You won’t be the one (2/2)

I love how an excuse to write about a drunken radio call has lead to this weird weaving back and forth that I really did think was mostly going to be silly banter. At least at first?

Pairing: F!Dep x John Seed (the strange pseudo-flirting really can’t be denied here) Rating: T Word Count: 3.2K

Link to AO3!

___

A conversation in two parts. (Part 1)

______________

She was drunk. Not just a little, but heading full on into embracing whatever chaos the night might lead into, dare or no dare provided.

Sharky was her primary instigator, working harder than usual to keep her from thinking back to the mess they’d made of the convoys in the afternoon. It didn’t make sense. They should’ve found a way to make a serious dent by now, but for every one lost, another two took its place, like some sort of strange vehicular hydra.

It was an exhausting dance. One Hana knew was going to be painful from the start, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept, or forget. Especially when John knew which resources to lean on as a counter.

So, with that frustration fresh in her mind, she let one drink turn into two. Then into four. With Sharky by her side, she tacked on one more after that, and he reminded her that breaks like this really did lead to better ass kicking tomorrow.

“Just flush all of that negative shit out, double-down on you being you, and it’ll be smooth sailing. Trust me,” he said. “We’ll be swimming in so much Peggie ass tomorrow.“

She nearly choked on her drink. “Kicking. You mean we’ll be kicking so much ass tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah! What’d you think I said?” he asked, nearly spilling his shot. The fact that it was on fire – courtesy of him, and not Mary May - should’ve been a concern, but she was well within swatting distance if she needed to intervene. He put it out and knocked it back before she could say anything else. “We’ll be kicking it up, and fucking them up. Cause that’s how we do things.”

At least, that’s how they were planning on doing things. Tomorrow.

Within the hour, Hana was dragging him upstairs, barely able to stand on his own two feet. Even after somehow losing a bet and promising to get him his weight in accelerants, she wasn’t about to let him stumble up there alone, and helped deposit him into the room Mary May was letting her crash in.

Sharky faceplanted onto the bed, and after draping the blanket over him, she made him promise he wouldn’t suffocate on his own hoodie – while also making sure he actually wouldn’t. She would’ve felt awful if he did after teasing him about it. Lucky for her he was listening, but the minute said hoodie hit her in the face, she wisely decided it was time to cut out and leave.

With that she was left alone and free to roam. Her head buzzed, the sensation more pleasant than not, but standing there idle with a half-finished beer wasn’t going to help her burn any of that energy off.

So, she wandered outside, taking a moment to stand on the Spread Eagle’s porch.

In moments like this it was easy to see how someone could’ve fallen in love with this place. How she could’ve fallen in love with it before things went straight to hell and back.

The breeze ruffled her hair as Hana followed the road to the outskirts of town before cutting across the grass, looking to head to the hills. Glancing skyward, she took in the stars above, marking old constellations that she used to love as a kid.

Orion. Always Orion, with his belt of stars, one, two, and three. Cassiopeia, with the zig-zag of the W. If she squinted, there was at least one of the dippers to find too.

Out here, the lights above weren’t drowned out by the city below. She pointed up, running her finger from one bright point to another, her head bobbing as she tried to trace out the image. Rough as it was, there was still a picture to be made even if she had to blink fast to keep it in focus.

But her finger came to a stop, resting right on the edge of the horizon. Right where the white, glaring eye sore stood out up in the mountains, drawing her attention completely.

She chucked her empty beer bottle in the general direction of the YES sign, and didn’t care that it wouldn’t come anywhere close to reaching it. It shattered somewhere nearby, her annoyance rising at having fallen short, and she stood there, staring out over the fields as she forced herself to relax. To curl back into the peace out here. To breathe in and out.

In and out.

She took in her fifth breath, hearing it whistle between her teeth, before reaching down for her radio. Silence wasn’t going to cut it any longer, and she’d take anything else at this point.

Not bothering to check to see just which station she’d picked was a mistake. Mostly harmless, but still a sizable one given her current mood. With the Peggie station came a chance of hearing each of the Seed’s songs. She’d heard most off and on, but only for short bursts due to the cultists playing them.

John’s followers, however, seemed to take this a step further. Seemed to play his theme with a frequency that grated on her more and more every time she heard it, and hearing it now out of the blue? Here, well in view of his lasting mark on the valley?

That was the cherry on top of her irritation-flavored sundae.

Oh, John! The words ran right on repeat through her mind, and there it was. A melody that was going to stick around right up until the point that she passed out, mid-curse into her pillow.

“Petty fucking amusement, my ass,” Hana muttered, messing with the radio. “I’ll show you who’s a joke.”

If that was how her night was going to go, fine. Maybe he did have a point, and maybe, just maybe, he could be hers.

---

“Brother John?”

He didn’t raise his eyes from the papers set in front of him on the table, but when the Chosen didn’t respond further, he waved his hand for them to continue. At this hour interruptions were few and far between, but not impossible. “Go on, I’m listening.”

“Our channel’s been picking up on a strange message. One that’s been repeating, but doesn’t appear to be an SOS. It hasn’t stopped. Not once.”

John turned towards her, and set his pen aside. “If it’s not an emergency, or a threat, then what is the problem?”

The Chosen’s posture straightened as more of his attention was turned on her, but she held up her radio and stood her ground. “It’s been the same thing over the last five minutes. Cutting in and out, just…noise at first, but it sounds like singing.”

“Singing?” John raised an eyebrow.

She turned it on, and the voice came through in bursts, some of it too difficult to understand at first. Once the words started coming through, however, he listened, taking in the melody as it became quite clear which song it belonged to.

He set his chin in his hand, and let his eyes slip shut. That was his name being said, and this song was one he did admit a degree of, albeit prideful, fondness for. Even with the words slurred and the voice exaggerating each note’s rise and fall.

But this voice, this one, he was used to hearing nothing but provocations from. In a way, this also fit the bill. After the crude defacement of his message, along with the taking back of the Widowmaker, the county’s only free deputy kept on going as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

And while he had seethed over her actions - and her dismissal of him days back – other areas had demanded his attention first.

Her time to atone would come. She would take those steps, willingly, if he had his way, and from there progress could truly be made. If he needed to guide her further he would, but it was so much more satisfying to see what steps she might take unprompted. Especially when those steps lead to instances like this.

This wasn’t an immediate problem. It wasn’t another blow to their resources or a strike to their convoys. It was a distraction at best, which didn’t require his intervention at all, but the temptation remained. Like before, she was reaching out to him. Calling for him, even if only to provoke him.

It was still an effort, and it lingered in the back of his mind when he motioned for them to hand over their radio.

“Allow me. Maybe there’s something to this after all.”

---

"My dear Deputy-“

The radio flew out of her hands, sailing through the air towards the ground, as she fumbled it completely. It landed on a patch of grass, the tumble making only static come through for a few seconds. Soon enough, however, John’s voice was back.

“How unexpected. I wasn’t aware that song left such an impression on you. To hear it come straight from your lips, to hear it repeated so fervently. I’m amazed.”

Hana stared at the radio, both hands still clasped over her mouth, and felt the blood rush straight to her face.

“And over such a public medium as well. What would the others say if they heard you?”

If they had the right idea, they would’ve turned off their radios long ago. Hopefully before John actually decided to tune in, but too late now. She’d deal with that in the morning, along with the massive hangover she’d be courting.

She grabbed for the radio, struggling not to trip over her own two feet trying to pick it up fast, and almost forgot to hit the button before replying. “This isn’t about them. It’s about…shit.”

“You? I’d suggest myself, but after hearing what I have for the last few minutes or so, that might be presumptuous of me.”

He was back to using that strange teasing tone of his again, and none of it sat well with her. Not after what he’d shown her a few days back, but if he was willing to do this, she’d gladly dish it back.

“You liked that? Hearing your name over, and over, and over?“

“Very few would object to such a thing. Especially when said so…enthusiastically.”

Her face flushed again – or had it stayed that way? – and she kicked herself for being just that damn petty. The words had been messy from the start, and she’d looped back to that simply because her poor brain had hit a snag and couldn’t get past repeating variations of it.

“Jesus, John. Hearing this shit would grate on a normal person.”

Hearing it from her? Drunk and garbled? It should’ve been irritating. That was exactly what she wanted to begin with. Instead, he was a mix of amused and delighted? Shouldn’t he have already ambushed her and carried her off to God-knows-where days back just for the damn sign?

What the hell did she actually drink? Mary May said it’d been strong before she shot it, but -

“Why are we speaking, Deputy? I have a feeling there’s something on your mind. Intoxicated or not.”

You. She nearly bit her tongue. Bugging the shit out of you. “I thought my intent was pretty damn clear.”

“No, I think there’s more to this. A reason for you to seek me out. Are there regrets? Looking for another chance to consider-“

“No.”

“Deputy.” He almost sounded disappointed. “So quick to say no.”

“After listening to you tell me how, if given the chance, you were going to ‘open me up’ and, or, peel me like a fucking apple, did you really expect anything different?”

He paused. “Ah. That.”

“Yes, that.”

John chuckled, but didn’t offer up an explanation or an excuse. Just his amusement at what she was sure was her expense. That put a shot of anger through her.

“Real cute asshole, but you’re going to have to give me more than that.”

“I was merely suggesting you could share a part of yourself with me.”

Not just one, Hana reminded herself. Multiple parts. Multiple layers.

“Suggesting, huh? Suggestions are made about movies, and songs to listen to. Both usually to share and enjoy with those closest to you. And okay, people do that too. Sharing, and baring just enough of themselves to see if they’ve got a good thing going, but applying that to us, John, just doesn’t work. Because one, we’re just not that cozy, and two, we’re sure as hell not that close.”

“Hence, the suggestion.”

“I might have a few for you, if we’re going to stick to this topic, but none of them are going to be that nice.”

“And I’m sure you would love to go over them in extensive detail with me, my dear. Some of which I might even entertain, given just how you might choose to pitch it to me.”

She wasn’t even sure what topic they were on anymore at this point. “Oh, I think you’d like my delivery. Maybe even my pitch.” Yeah, she’d lost it, and the breathy tone was laying it on way too thick.

“Deputy!” The smile her mental image conjured up for that was a wicked one. “You’re far from shy, aren’t you? Just be sure to remain clear on what exactly you’re hoping to accomplish. Otherwise, I may end up drawing my own conclusions on the matter. But don’t worry,” he said, almost imitating her. “No matter what you decide, you won’t have to be nice with me.”

Jesus. This was getting weird. Way too weird for her to keep on going with it. “Now I know you’re just trying to keep me talking. Dangling shit like that in front of me hoping I’ll just, I don’t know. Ramble on about something interesting, or just make a bigger ass of myself in the process. Either or.”

“We’re simply talking. Trading pleasantries, and possibly even a step beyond that. Surely that can’t be a problem.”

“Nothing is ever simple when it comes to you. At least, that I’m learning.”

“You were the one that called me. Let me remind you of that, yet again,” he replied, an edge creeping into his tone. “But this is the longest we’ve talked so far. I’d like to call that…progress.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to make progress here.”

“Given my role, I’d have to disagree. Progress is precious. All too delicate and easily lost, much like trust. And I understand yours is not given easily, Deputy.”

She took in a slow breath and let it out through her nose. “What do you want, John?”

“Let me be honest with you. Not that I haven’t been from the start, but if you need to hear it, need me to tell you this directly, then I will.”

“To build trust?”

“To build progress. But that could lead to trust, if given the opportunity.”

This was swinging back in the other direction. Back to a topic that she knew they shouldn’t be heading towards, and the repeated question came out harsh. “What do you want, John?”

“Let me make my offer again. To give you a proper chance to-“

“Confess?” That made her want to pitch her radio right out over the hills. “You never quit with this shit, do you?”

“Have I become that predictable?” he asked drily. “But yes, I doubt I will, because it's not in my right to deny you that. That chance. That opportunity. It still remains, even now.”

“You want to hear a confession? Hmm? You really want to? Like the actual reason why we’re talking right now? Why I made an ass of myself earlier singing at you?”

Hana held the radio right up to her mouth as she hissed out the next few words.

“I hate this song. I hate it every time it comes on, and I hate the fact that this entire county only has two stations to choose from. That if I get into any vehicle, or if I walk to any area within reach, there’s a decent shot it’s playing, and I have to spend the next five minutes listening to it crooning, ‘Oh, John,’ over and over until I can flip the damn switch.”

“It should be a source of inspiration, to bolster, and-”

She pressed the button on the radio to cut him off. “I blame the subject. He’s kind of a self-absorbed prick.”

He grew silent after that, and she knew she was getting close to hitting a nerve.

“John the brave. Building us a family, and working hard to keep us safe. Isn’t that how it goes?”

“I would. All of you, if you’d let me.”

“It’s not that simple of a thing, John. To wave your hand and brush away everything. To wipe the slate clean.”

“It’s not about forgetting or dismissing memories, thoughts, or actions. It’s about accepting them for what they are, and finding a way past that. To wash them away, opening yourself up to the possibility of becoming something greater. We all have things that we regret, don’t we?”

Staring down at the radio, she wet her lips and wished like hell she had another beer nearby. This was not a conversation she wanted to have with him of all people.

“I know you’ve felt that. Not just here, in this place. But before. Long before coming here. The difference is that this time, you wouldn’t have to be alone.”

Coming from the same man that had promised to spill her guts out in front of him earlier, to dig for all that she’d keep from him, stung.

“Stop, John.”

“I would listen. Patiently, until you’ve given me all that you could offer. Every word, every action, as we name these things we bury, these sins, and from there they can be shed. So you can begin anew. Unburdened and unashamed.”

“I don’t want to do this with you,” Hana said, the buzz giving way to a weight in her body. “I don’t.”

“But you could. Just say yes.”

Yes.

A shiver ran through her, sinking deep into her as it spread.

“That night by the lake. The Cleansing, or whatever you called it, you remember that? Holding me down as I kicked and screamed my lungs out?” He went silent, and her head swam as she tried to steady herself. “You were going to drown me that night, weren’t you? Right up until Joseph spoke up. Saving me from you.”

She held the radio in her hand, waiting for a denial, acknowledgment, anything.

She’d suspected it. But this, after hearing him say those things to her, spoken low, intimately, was the icing on the goddamn cake.

“If anyone’s going to save me, it’s not going to be you,” she replied, hating how the words wavered. “Good night, John.”

She hit the switch and the radio slipped out of her hand, landing right on the grass by her feet. She'd know where to grab it come morning, she thought, leaving it behind.

Sure enough, she would.

[lothiriel84]

Only last night I found myself lost (by the station called King's Cross)

Here follows another of my long rambling travel blogs. You have been warned. 

Saturday 8th September

It’s fair to say that I have a complicated relationship with Stansted Airport; on the one hand, it’s my default gateway into the UK (I’ve only ever landed at Gatwick Airport exactly once, and of course Edinburgh Airport on my one trip to Scotland). On the other hand, it’s stupidly far from London, and I’ve been seriously sleep deprived every single time I set foot in it. (Oh, and there’s also that one time when I actually missed my flight, but let’s not dwell on that.)

Still, it’s been way more fun than it had any right to be to stand on the train platform right outside the airport, and watch the music video of Single-Bilingual by the Pet Shop Boys on my phone. It’s quite a silly video, and it’s actually been filmed at Stansted Airport. I hadn’t been this much into Pet Shop Boys’ music on my previous visit, or, you know, at all; now they’re probably my favourite musical group, and a brilliant sountrack to my trip on top of that.

But I’m digressing. The thing is, rather than going straight into London from Stansted, I took a train to Cambridge instead. As it turns out, Cambridge is relatively close to Stansted, and as I had recently watched (and fell in love with) James Ivory’s Maurice, I was really looking forward to seeing one of the main locations of the film/novel. Given how I was planning to go on the Ghost Bus Tour in London that same evening, I was on a rather tight schedule; still, I managed to visit King’s College and its chapel (which is one of the locations where Maurice was filmed), and Queens’ College with its Mathematical Bridge. 

After that, I had to rush and take a train to London; and as it happened, my train arrived into King’s Cross station, which is not only the title of a Pet Shop Boys song (yeah, I’m going to bring up PSB a lot throughout this post, I’m not even sorry), but also the location of a statue dedicated to Sir Nigel Gresley, of Infinitely Bad fame. 

In the end, @smegandtheheads and I both succeeded in reaching Northumberland Avenue on time for the first Ghost Bus Tour of the evening (sorry again, Lizzie, for making you dash all the way there at such short notice). Neither of us had ever been on that specific tour with Peter Davis as the conductor, so it was quite brilliant; Peter is such a sweetheart, and terribly funny on top of that. Here’s a picture of the man himself, looking as if he’s some kind of ghostly gentleman. (Sorry.)

On a side note, I’m absolutely sure he added the final “Get out of my bus” specifically because he knew Lizzie and I were on board. I really can’t wait for the re-release of the old Monster Hunters episodes, and the new ones to follow.

(Peter also hinted that there might be a fourth season in the cards, which would be absolutely amazing.)

I was really quite tired after that - not only I had had very little sleep prior to, or even during, my flight, but I had been carrying my cabin baggage on my back all day long, both in Cambridge and in London. I’m so glad I eventually decided to accept when Lizzie invited me to join her and her boyfriend for dinner, along with their podcaster friends. I had such a fantastic time listening to Max talk about all of Definitely Human’s past, present, and future projects - including the Monster Hunters re-release, which is probably the one I’m most excited about at this moment in time. 

(Well, that, and the final few episodes of The Infinite Bad. I’m so going to die before it’s over, the one thing that still needs to be seen is whether that will happen out of dread, grief, or both of those things at the same time.)

Anyway, for those of you not in the know, The Monster Hunters is an absolutely brilliant comedy/horror podcast, set in swinging London in the early 1970s; written by and starring Peter Davis and Matthew Woodcock, featuring (among others) the incredibly talented voices of Simon Kane and Laura Marshall. All existing episodes will be re-released under the Definitely Human label, each one featuring a short commentary from the creators themselves; there will also be additional Patreon-exclusive content, and new episodes coming up in due course. 

(And, well, sorry Max if I sounded much more excited about MH than any of the other projects you’re currently involved in, but I’m so grateful that DH stepped in to make the rest of series 3 happen, and so much more.)

Sunday 9th September

Sunday was a rather quiet one, as I was still tired from the previous day. Passing through Brixton I accidentally discovered they have a David Bowie mural there, which I hadn’t known in spite of having very nearly walked past it on two previous occasions, and it was a nice surprise to find out. 

Eventually, I did reach the Festival of the Great North Wood in Sydenham Hill Wood, which I think I had previously heard about from one of Carrie Quinlan’s tweets. It was a relatively small event, but they did have a few birds of prey on show, including this lovely little chap.

They also did guided walks through the wood, and it was lovely to be able to join one of those. Our guide talked us through the history of that particular wood, and the railway that once ran through it; it was quite nice, even more so as I do tend to spend quite a lot of time in parks and green areas whenever I’m in London.

After that, I headed to Crystal Palace Park, which is not very far from there. I had already been there before, but it’s always nice to see those big dumb Victorian dinosaurs loitering in the shrubbery.

Monday 10th September

After spending quite some time on Google Maps trying to work out whether it made any sense to attempt a day trip to Ottery St Mary (for much obvious Cabin Pressure reasons) or anywhere else in Devon, I had eventually settled for Dorset as a much more feasible option. Quite apart from some rather specific associations that I’m not going to mention here, Poole was the perfect place for a Jurassic Coast boat trip; and given how the stunning Durdle Door is quite a difficult place to reach, that was the next best thing, at least as far as I am concerned. 

The coastal cruise, sailing from Poole Quay, allowed a really stunning view on Poole Harbour and Old Harry Rocks; and after a brief stop at Swanage Pier, it circled back, giving us passengers another chance to admire the chalk cliffs on our way back to the quay. 

Once back on dry land, I went to visit Poole Museum, and also stopped by an old sweet shop which somehow reminded me of Carolyn Knapp-Shappey. It’s even called Truly Scrumptious, which is - an interesting coincidence, I guess?

And then, back to London, where I had a bit of a random walk, ending up in the approximate spot - facing the Palace of Westminster across the Thames - that is featured at some point during the music video for West End Girls. Which I then proceeded to watch on my phone. (Nothing to see here, guys - just a completely normal human being, doing completely normal stuff. Yep.)

Tuesday 11th September

Having worked in a mail centre for a little over two years, I thought it would be fun to go and visit the Postal Museum, even more so as they give you the option to ride the Mail Rail, which was basically an underground railway used to move mail between sorting offices. The museum was nice, and the ride was quite cool, albeit rather short.

On my way back to my hotel I made a detour to St Pancras Gardens, where the tomb of Mary Wollstonecraft is, and also that rather curious landmark that is the Hardy Tree. Plus, I very cleverly accidentally located the Mornington Crescent underground station, which is apparently the subject of a game I literally know nothing about, save for its name. 

In the evening, I went to the first preview show of An Execution (by invitation only), which was the actual reason why I was in London in the first place. I will probably try and write a proper (-ish) review as a separate blog entry at some point; for now, suffice to say that it was weird and brilliant in equal measure, with quite an unusual set design combined with decidedly intense performances from all four actors. 

(The cast included Simon Kane, Tom Lyall, Greg McLaren and Shamira Turner. I assume most of you will at least be familiar with Simon’s voice as featured in John Finnemore’s Souvenir Programme; as for Tom Lyall, he played a rather magnificent Oberon in last year’s Mighty Fin musical A Midwinter Night’s Dream, as well as the delightfully over-the-top boss of a record company in The Devil Gets All The Best Tunes.)

After the show, I took a detour in order to get a few pictures of the Post Office Tower (yeah, I do realise it’s mostly referred to as the BT Tower these days, but to me it will always be the Post Office Tower of Monster Hunters fame) and King’s Cross too, despite having already been there on Saturday. 

(Sir Nigel Gresley still hadn’t turned into a mass of writhing hands, which I decided to take as a good sign. I still hadn’t listened to the episode of The Infinite Bad which was due to be released the following day, which definitely had me screaming at the unexpected turn of events. Well.)

Wednesday 12th September

As I was planning to go to the Wellcome Collection, I decided I might as well have a walk through Regent’s Park first. The weather was a bit changeable, and it even rained for a bit; still, it was nice, and I accidentally stumbled upon the Frieze Sculpture 2018, which included some rather curious works by contemporary and modern artists. The malevolent looking penguin was quite a treat, giving off such powerful Infinitely Bad vibes - though there were no carcasses of supernatural stags knocking about, much to everyone’s relief.

(On a side note, how long has the Wonderpass under Marylebone Road been there? I’m pretty sure I’ve been in that area at least a couple of times before, but I might have simply failed to notice it, I guess?)

In order to gain further dread, I then proceeded to visit the Teeth exhibition at the Wellcome Collection; it was a must see for a fan of The Infinite Bad, and I had been hoping to be able to just sit outside the exhibition area afterwards, and listen to the new episode. As it turned out, data roaming was just awful inside that building, and as it was getting late I was forced to postpone the listening. 

(Which I then ended up doing whilst packing my bag for my flight back home, much later that night. Not exactly ideal for such a detail/reveal-packed episode, but still.)

That evening I went to the second preview show for An Execution (by invitation only); it was still as good as the first time around, with the added bonus of a rather - shall we say, interesting? - poem about a spider, which had apparently been added in the space between the two shows. 

And, well, that’s it for me this trip, I guess. Or, rather...

Thursday 13th September

As it turns out, there’s about one thing that can make a forty-five minute walk to Victoria Coach Station at four in the morning marginally more bearable, and that’s listening to Pet Shop Boys’ music. 

What is rather less pleasant is having your flight departure delayed by over an hour - though thankfully with us passengers already boarded, or I would have literally fallen over - because they had taken too long to load the baggage onto the plane, and the flight plan had expired. Which, I’ll admit, is an interesting piece of information for a Cabin Pressure fan, but it doesn’t quite help when you’ve had no sleep and there’s no way you can actually manage to doze off on one of those contraptions that Ryanair insists on calling a seat. 

(Arthur, dear heart, as much as I adore you, could you please stop referring to takeoff delays as ‘brilliant’? And we didn’t even have Monopoly to play, such a shame.)

[charlinert]

As Easy as Falling 37/?

New Chapter of As Easy As Falling….

Summary:  Felicity Smoak had everything figured out until tragic news causes her to rethink her life. As part of dealing with tragedy she embraces her adventurous side in the form of skydiving. Will love be waiting for her between the clouds or will she let tragedy keep her away from falling?

Read from the BEGINNING AO3

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

CHAPTER 37

It’s the morning of December 31st. It’s her wedding day and in the distance she can hear faint voices downstairs and the moving of furniture as the Queen Manor is being transformed into the wedding venue they have spent the last few weeks planning this big event around.

The day starts off with spoiling, first with breakfast in bed served by Raisa, followed by a long relaxing bath in one of the guest suites she’s gotten comfortable in, reserved specifically for her bridal preparations.

Sitting at the vanity in her fluffy robe, she takes in the image staring back at her through the mirror. The dark black circles under her eyes are almost completely gone. The redness of her cheeks is back and the long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders is an image she hasn’t seen in months.

It’s strange seeing the long blonde hair again, especially since she’s grown used to her bald head and short curly hair of the wig for quite some time now. She’s sure Oliver will be surprised as well, she just hopes he’ll like it, seeing that she hasn’t seen him in two days.

Not seeing each other isn’t something they exactly planned, but with all the last minute preparations for the wedding and her moving into his apartment, which Oliver and Dig decided they would handle on her behalf, they became so busy and before they knew it, they were in two different buildings; Oliver in their apartment and her under the watchful eye of Colonel Thea Queen.

Their apartment – it still seems strange thinking about things as theirs now and although it’s been challenging not waking up next to him these last two days, by the end of the night they will never willingly be separated again. They will be husband and wife!

The excitement of this realisation brings her attention to the butterflies in her stomach as she plays with the blonde locks between her fingers.

She wanted to do something different with her hair for their wedding. It’s not that she didn’t like the wig she was wearing, she just needed something special for her special day. She made an appointment with Gina to discuss if this could be made possible, maybe an updo wig, anything that was different from what she normally wears.

Of course when Felicity arrived at the appointment Gina completely freaked out at the news of Felicity getting better and almost did a back flip when she saw how Felicity’s hair was already growing out and blonde for that matter. Gina assured her that she had the perfect solution for her wedding hair and it wasn’t long after that, Felicity was scheduled for an appointment at Fab Hair Studio with world renowned hair stylist Linda Fernandez.

Linda was so excited to meet Felicity, especially after speaking to Gina on the phone. What Felicity thought was the styling of a new wig, turned out to be no wig at all. Linda created a new product that is going to revolutionise hair extensions as we know it and Felicity didn’t mind one bit having to be the guinea pig for this product. If she didn’t have to wear a wig again, she would be as happy as a pig in mud.

So here she is. You can barely see where the extensions were attached to her own hair. She loves her new look because she looks, in the words of Linda, fabulous baby!

She smiles at herself, recollecting the events of the last few days and it makes the excitement even more palpable.

“Aunty ‘listity!” she hears the three year old calling, evidently very confused about the amount of doors in one hallway.

“I’m here Sara, follow my voice honey!” Felicity calls back, when the door to her room opens with quite a bit of force and the cutie pie comes running straight for her, her little arms stretched out for a hug.

After the hug, Felicity’s attention immediately moves to Sara’s hair and the dusty pink bows carefully styled between her natural curls.

“Look at your hair! You look so pretty!” Felicity fusses, putting Sara right into princess fairy mode, twirling in the middle of the floor so Felicity can have a full three sixty degree angle of her hair.

She’s extremely adorable and Felicity makes a mental note to ask the photographer to take some pictures of Sara twirling in her flower girl dress.

Once Sara is done twirling the little drama queen does a small curtsy and walks back to Felicity, who playfully picks her up and places her on the vanity so they are eye level.

“So, what have you been doing today?” she asks the toddler who is gently tangling her chubby little fingers through the new blonde locks.

“We had bweakfast with uncle ‘liver.” the tone of her little voice slightly increases as she gets to the end of the sentence. Something new Felicity notices is that Sara is suddenly substituting her ‘r’s’ for ‘w’s’. It’s not on every word though. Must be something she must have acquired from her friends at the new kindergarten she’s been attending twice a week.

“Oooh, uncle Oliver’s breakfasts are the best.” Felicity agrees. “What did he make you?”

“We had pancakes with fwuit and sywup. I like the sywup ones but mommy says Sara can only have one.”

“That must have sucked. I also like the syrup ones.”

Sara nods her head in agreement, “but daddy says I must listen to mommy because the baby makes mommy grwumpy.”

Baby? Is Lyla pregnant?!

“Baby?” Felicity asks innocently.

“Yes, the baby in mommy’s tummy silly!” Sara jokes, still stroking Felicity’s hair.

John and Lyla probably decided not to announce it yet with everything going on, so she decides not to press further. They will announce it when they are ready.

“So cutie, does uncle Oliver like your hair?”

“Yes, but daddy says he has hearts in his eyes.”

“Hea…”

“Sara Diggle!” a stern voice interrupts Felicity before she can ask the next question.

The little girl immediately drops Felicity’s hair sitting up straight where Felicity has placed her on the vanity and her little eyes become as big as saucers. She obviously knows that voice. The familiar voice of her mother clearly spelling out ‘you are in big trouble young lady’.

“What have I told you about running off like that?” Lyla asks, coming into the room.

Sara holds out her arms so Felicity can put her down on the ground. She immediately moves over to her mother.

“I’m sowwy mommy. I wanted to show aunty ‘listity my hair.” Sara looks down at the ground, pouting her lips.

This little girl is very crafty. She knows exactly how to play her parents and Felicity has to hold her laugh otherwise it might complicate this situation.

“It’s okay honey.” Lyla says sighing at the sight of her three year old and bends down to Sara’s level. “There’s a lot of strangers in this house today okay, so please don’t do that again. If I lose you, where am I going to find another Sara?”

“From the internet?” she asks innocently.

“The internet?” Lyla asks confused, probably thinking that they will have to have the ‘where do babies come from’ conversation earlier than expected if her daughter thinks you can order babies off the internet.

“Yes! Uncle ‘liver says aunty ‘listity can find anything on the internet.”

This little statement makes them both laugh as Lyla hugs her little girl, telling her she’s not angry anymore.

“I’m sorry about that Felicity. I hope she didn’t bother you.”

“She’s no bother at all. She’s my favourite.” Felicity answers winking at Sara as the toddler attempts to do the same ending with both her eyes closing at the same time.

“Speaking of hair. Yours looks stunning! Is it a wig?”

“Actually no, it is a wedding gift from the company that made my original wig. It’s human hair extensions and now I don’t have to wear wigs anymore. I got it done yesterday.”

“So I gather Oliver hasn’t seen it yet?”

“No he hasn’t. I just hope he likes it.”

“Felicity, you could wear a garbage bag and that man will still look at you as if you hung the moon.”

Felicity can feel the blush on her cheeks thinking about how intense their gazes can get at times.

“And by the looks of it, you’re sporting heart eyes too.”

‘hearts in his eyes’

“Oh heart eyes!” Felicity exclaims, putting two and two together now.

“I have known Oliver Queen for a while now and he’s changed quite a bit, but one thing is for sure…he will never be able to change the way he looks at you.”

Felicity’s far off gaze is quickly interrupted when the Colonel and the hair-and makeup team start to bundle in the room.

“Come on Sara, let’s leave aunty Felicity alone, while she gets ready.” Lyla instructs the toddler, who is mesmerised by the equipment being packed out in the room.

She runs over to Felicity and kisses her cheek. “See ya later!” she yells as the runs to catch up with her mom already halfway out the door.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

“Knock knock.” Felicity looks over at the bedroom door seeing her mom peeking through.

“Come in mom. Thea’s just zipping me up.” Felicity says with a smile as she takes in her appearance in the floor length mirror in the guest suite.

“Oh honey!” Donna exclaims, “you look absolutely beautiful!”

Felicity spins around meeting her mother’s outstretched arms, “I can’t believe my baby is getting married!” squeezing her daughter tighter.

“Yeah, it’s kind of surreal for me too.” Felicity softly says still embracing her mom.

“Now, now ladies, no smudging our make up today okay?” Thea instructs, but she can hear the strictness of her voice has some sort of crack in it. They are all feeling a little emotional today, with good cause. There’s so much promise in today. Not just is she marrying the love of her life, she’s also on the verge of being in remission after she thought she would never have a future. She tries to take a deep breath, pushing back the forming tears in her eyes and focuses on Moira also joining them in the room.

“Oh my, Felicity! You look simply radiant!” Moira compliments squeezing her hand and giving Donna a side hug.

Her two mothers have become relatively close and she’s thankful for it. They are two very different women but the thing she admires from them the most is that they both are strong and she’s learned so much from both of them.

“I think you all look absolutely beautiful too.” Felicity compliments the three ladies now standing in a semi-circle around her.

“Since everyone is here now, I think we can start with the gifts?” Thea proposes looking over to Moira and Donna who nod in response.

“Okay, I’ll start.” Donna says as she takes the gift bag from Thea. “Honey, my gift to you for today is ‘something old’. Before your grandma Amelia died, she gave me the garter that she wore on her wedding day in the hopes that I would do the same on my wedding day. I didn’t exactly have a traditional wedding, since it was a spur of the moment thing at a Vegas chapel, but I kept this safe, hoping that one day I could pass it on to you on your wedding day.” Donna hands Felicity the gift bag and Felicity retrieves the garter. It fits in perfectly with the rest of the wedding colours as well and the little detail on the garter resembles her earrings.

“Mom!” is all Felicity manages to say embracing her mother, trying very hard to fight the tears forming again. “This is so special. Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure baby girl. And who knows, maybe one day you’ll be able to pass it on to your daughter too.” her mom’s eyes are swimming in tears and she can no longer keep the tears from spilling.

“I hope so too mom.” she embraces her again.

Thea sees that it’s inevitable - neither one of them is leaving this room without smudged makeup and starts handing out tissues.

Donna helps Felicity sit down on the bed while she slides on the garter up to her thigh and Thea hands Moira the jewellery box containing the rose gold and diamond belt.

Once the belt is removed from the box, Felicity straightens her dress and turns so Moira can fit the belt around her waist and fasten in, making sure the ribbon falls perfectly with the back of Felicity’s dress.

“Okay, so we have ‘something old’ and ‘something new’ covered. You took care of the ‘something blue’ and I got you ‘something borrowed’.” Thea says and hands Felicity a small jewellery box containing two hair pins.

“Oh Thea!” Felicity gasps as she gently takes them out of the box, inspecting the detail on them much closer.

“It’s not real stones or anything like the rest of the gifts, but there’s a lot of sentimental value to those pins.” Thea explains, earning a sympathetic smile from everyone standing in the room. “My dad had a rule that he would never be away from home at long periods of time but there was one time when he couldn’t help it. QC was in the middle of huge negotiations on a project and it caused it him to be away from home almost the whole month, only seeing us for a day or two in between trips.” Felicity sees Moira fiddling with her fingers thinking of her late husband and without a second thought she links her arm with Moira’s as a sign of comfort.

“I hated that he was away for so long, but when he came back from his last trip to San Francisco he handed me these little pins.” Thea smiles at the memory. “Apparently he was on his way to a meeting when next to the side of the road he saw a street vendor selling costume jewellery. He said the pins immediately drew his attention, making him think of me. It was beautiful yet bold and he couldn’t help but stop and buy it for me.”

“He was late for his meeting that day but he said that he didn’t care because we would always be his first priority, he always thought of us when he wasn’t with us. It was the least expensive gift he’s ever bought me but this gift to me held the most value, because I knew, no matter where he was he would always think of me, think of our family.”

If Donna’s story didn’t bring them to tears, Thea’s sure did.

“I wanted you to wear it today because I know he would have loved you Felicity, just as much as we do….and in some way you wearing these, I know he’s here with us today, sharing in the joy.”

Felicity gently leaves Moira’s arm and embraces her sister. No need for legal titles or papers, this is what Thea Queen has become to her….a sister.

Felicity sits down behind the vanity again as Thea inserts the pins carefully into Felicity’s hair.

A quick touch up of everyone’s makeup and Felicity takes a last glance in the mirror.

“I’m ready.” she says with a broad smile on her face.

“Okay then sis, let’s get you hitched!”

Thank you to everyone who’s supporting this fic by reading and commenting and liking and such! You guys are truly awesome!!!

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[unify-my-universe]

Third part of the story!

“Come on Michael, I’m intrigued what else have you got planned?”

He was quiet for a few minutes. The butterflies entered his stomach. He realised how inexperienced he was in these matters. Yes he’d been with girls before but Penelope wasn’t like them. She deserved somebody perfect. And he was far from perfect.

“Will you walk with me Penelope?”

They walked further along the mountains, the moon shining ever brighter. Michael was trying to find a suitable spot. He wanted it to be just perfect.

Penny didn’t mind all the walking, she loved nature but she just wished Michael would get on with whatever he’d got planned. She didn’t exactly have much patience!

Finally Michael had found the perfect spot. Well he hoped.  The moon in this spot was really shining against the mountains. The hill wasn’t too sloped down which meant Michael wouldn’t fall flat on his arse at any point. A big relief for him as he didn’t want to make a fool of himself!

“Michael I don’t mean to sound like a complete bitch but can you please tell me what’s going on?”

“All will be revealed soon…”

“Yes but how soon? I mean I’m filming tomorrow and I don’t want to get in trouble with the two Terry’s for cocking up my scenes!”

“Penelope, don’t worry I’ll sort them out. I’m sure you can deliver a scene on limited sleep!”

“Hm I suppose so, or maybe you just overestimate my acting ability! Michael I really don’t mean to be rude especially when you’ve gone to all this effort for me but I hear my bed calling me so can you just tell me, please?”

“Come and sit next to me.”

They both sat on the slightly damp grass, much to Penny’s annoyance!

“Penelope, you know I care for you a great deal and even though I’ve only known you a short amount of time I can’t really imagine a life without you in it. It’s silly really.”

He got up suddenly and pulled out a box from his pyjama pocket.

Oh my god is that what I think it is? It can’t be can it?

Michael went down on one knee and opened up the box.

“Marry me Penelope.”

The box contained a beautiful, intricate diamond ring. Simple but beautiful.

“Pardon?”

She had to make sure she’d heard him right.

Wait a minute is THE Michael Palin proposing to me? Me?????

She felt extremely light headed all of a sudden.

Oh god I’m gonna faint!

“Marry me.”

“You’re asking me to marry you?”

Talk about being in a state of shock!

“I know it’s a bit, well, spontaneous but I’ve just really fallen for you. I don’t know how it happened. You’re just so down to earth. And I know you’ve been alone all your life but I want to make a lifetime promise you won’t be alone any more. I know I’ll be busy with all things Python the next few months but I’ll always have time for you. I promise to look after you, spoil you, and shower you with love always.”

Penny was speechless. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her, her of all people!

“Oh Michael don’t know what to say!”

“Say yes maybe?”

“I just can’t believe this is happening. I’m not special and you deserve someone better than me. But it’s true I’ve always liked you a lot, not just for Python. The more I got to know you, the more I fell for you. I mean it is about time I settled down, I am 25 so yes I will marry you Michael.”

Michael proceeded to slowly put the ring on her finger. He looked into her eyes and put his hands on her waist.

“God you look so beautiful in the moonlight.”

He kissed her deeply. It was something he had been wanting to do for days and he certainly showed it!

“Well we’d better get back my love, as you said your bed’s calling you! Wonder what the others will say when we tell them the news?”

“Probably go into a state of shock like I have?”

So they set off back to the hotel, Penny again falling asleep in the passenger seat. Michael looked over at her momentarily and smiled.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be marrying such perfection.” He said to himself.

Penny mumbled in response.

They soon got back to the hotel and Penny was about to head back to her room until Michael pulled her back.

“Why don’t you sleep in my room tonight?”

“Um okay? Sure.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Michael don’t be silly. Course I’ll sleep next to you tonight, sorry I’m still in shock about all this!”

“I suppose it is hard to take in! Don’t worry I won’t try anything, I’m pretty tired myself!”

Michael and Penny soon got into bed, Penny was feeling a little cold so snuggled up close to Michael.

“Well goodnight then Penelope.”

Michael planted a small kiss on Penny’s cheek and they both drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, both were awoken by loud knocking on the door. Michael sighed.

“I bet that’s Terry, wait there Penelope, let me handle this!”

Michael slowly opened the door and saw that it was indeed Terry Jones. Michael rubbed his eye out of tiredness.

“Morning Terry.”

“Come on Mike we have to get cracking on the filming, I did knock on Penny’s door but she didn’t answer.”

“She’s probably a really deep sleeper! Anyway, we’ll—I’ll be out in a few minutes just give me chance to get washed, dressed and into my costume.”

“Don’t be too long!”

“Yes sir!” Michael said with a mock salute.

Terry wasn’t very impressed.

Michael turned back to Penny who was sat up in bed with a big smirk on her face.

“I’m guessing you heard all that?”

“Yep.”

“Right well you’d better get dressed love, Hazel will probably sort out your costume for you!”

Penny kissed Michael on the cheek before heading back to her room to get washed and dressed. The door was gently knocked and of course it was Michael, armed with a small breakfast. He really was a sweetie.

“Thought you might like some breakfast love.”

“Ooh yes that would be lovely thank you Michael!”

Michael cheekily nicked some of Penny’s breakfast. She tapped him on the arm.

“Oh it’s alright Michael you just help yourself…”

“Sorry love couldn’t help myself! Right I’m off to meet Terry so I’ll see you in a bit?”

Michael darted out of her room so quick, she didn’t even get a kiss off him! She didn’t see what costume he was wearing so she guessed she’d find out when she arrived at the set what scene they would be filming first.

Penny finished off her breakfast and drove to the castle. She saw Michael was dressed as what she thought was King of Swamp Castle. He was having the finishing touches put on him, the wig and thick beard. Not one of Michael’s best looks!

She sniggered to herself as she got closer to him. Michael had soon noticed that Penelope was laughing at him.

“Ah you made it then?”

“Of course. Nice look you got going there.” She said whilst laughing.

“Hey I wouldn’t start laughing if I were you, you haven’t seen what you’re going to be wearing yet!”

“That’s true! Oh well I’ll leave you to it!”

Terry Gilliam came over to Penny, it looked like he was positively beaming!

“Oh hi Penny you made it! Jonesy was saying he couldn’t wake you up earlier! Sadly this role you’re doing today, the Prince Herbert wedding scene is a non-speaking part but at least your costume will be nice!”

“Oh no Michael told me you were after me but yeah I don’t mind a non-speaking part if as you say there’s a nice costume! I’ve just had a right laugh at Michael’s costume!”

“Yes it is very, uh, hairy? Anyway I’ll let Hazel sort out your costume and that!”

Penny’s costume obviously followed the theme of a wedding which consisted of pretty flowers in her hair and a plain dress.

Michael spotted straight away what Penny was wearing and became very captivated by her appearance.

“Wow Penelope you look beautiful, is this a sneak preview to how you’ll look on our wedding day?”

Ah yes the wedding. How quick does he want to get married? I mean I know filming probably won’t be wrapped up till June so is he hoping to get married after they’ve finished filming? Must discuss this with Michael later.

“Ah who knows? Guess you’ll have to wait and see.” Penny said with a wink.

Filming soon starts and Penny had to stop herself from corpsing at Michael’s appearance, this means that they have to do a number of takes much to the annoyance of the Directors and John.

“Penny look I get Michael looks funny but we really want to get this scene wrapped up sometime soon!” said Terry G with some degree of annoyance in his voice.

“Yes I understand, sorry.”

Unfortunately for everyone else Penny had got the serious case of the giggles and the take was ruined again.

“Penny for Christ’s sake can you pull yourself together?” Shouted Terry J.

“Oh come on Terry don’t speak to her like that, just let her compose herself for a few minutes then do another take.” Said Michael.

“Mike, we’ve done seven takes on this now, it’s getting beyond a joke to be quite honest.” Said John.

Penny felt awful. She’d pissed off all the Pythons, well except Michael and Graham who wasn’t in this scene. He was probably off drinking somewhere! She didn’t even realise she’d started crying until Michael pointed it out.

“Now look what you’ve done with your unnecessary shouting!”

“Alright Palin calm down, why you so concerned about us supposedly upsetting her?” said John.

“Because she’s my fiancée and we’re getting married that’s why!”

All the Pythons looked in shock at Michael, mouths fully open. Had Michael really said that? Had he finally found himself a decent woman?

“What did you say?” said Eric.

“I said she’s my fiancée.”

“Oh Mike this is brilliant news!” said Terry J in a very excited, high pitched voice.

He went over to Michael and gave him a great big hug. Michael thought he was going to die from lack of breath due to Jonesy squeezing him so hard!

“Thanks Terry.”

“Well Mike this is a surprise, congratulations are in order!” said John.

He shook Michael’s hand then turned to Penny.

“Well Penny Michael has stolen your heart eh?”

“Yes it seems so.”

“And I have no intention of taking it back!” said Michael jokingly.

Penny felt uncomfortable when John was talking to her. She got a sense that John wasn’t too keen on Michael having feelings for her. If that was the case, it meant that things between John and Connie were not good.

“Uh guys? As lovely as this is, can we get on with this take?” said Eric.

“Oh yes of course, places everyone!” said Terry Jones.

Finally they got the perfect take and it meant they could have their lunch, which everyone was quite relieved about!

Penny went to the costume tent to put on her normal clothes and just when she’d finished putting them back on, she felt a presence behind her. At first she thought it was Michael but when she turned round it turned out to be John.

“Oh John hi, you alright?”

“Oh I’m fine yeah, just a bit surprised about this, how shall I put it? Whirlwind romance between you and Michael.”

“Well there are such things called love at first sight…”

“I suppose so if you’re a soppy sod like Michael.”

“Can’t you just be happy for Michael? It’s not our fault things aren’t great between you and Connie.”

“Alright I admit it. I like you, probably a lot more than I should and yes things aren’t great between me and Connie. I suppose we’ll get through it like most couples do.”

“Look I’m sorry that things are a bit shit right now but my heart belongs to Michael, it always has.”

“So nothing I can say that can make you change your mind?”

“John you’re married and I’m engaged. You’re a lovely man but you’re not, well…”

“Mike?”

“Yeah exactly, you’re not Michael and he’s all I want.”

“Well can’t say I didn’t try.”

Penny put her hand on John’s shoulder and smiled.

“I hope you manage to work things out with Connie, she seems a lovely woman.”

Michael then popped his head into the tent. Of course he had heard every word that John had said. He knew that Penelope was fully committed to him.

“Everything alright John, Penelope?”

“Oh yes fine Mike, right, well, I’d, uh, better get going! See you later at the pub?”

“Yes we’ll see you there John.”

John made a swift exit out of the tent and left Penny and Michael on their own. He hoped that Michael hadn’t managed to overhear what he’d been saying to Penny. As Michael would be very cross with him and the last thing John wanted to do was fall out with Michael.

Michael put his arm around Penny. Penny had noticed that Michael was out of his King of Swamp Castle costume and now looked relatively normal. Well actually to her, he looked incredibly handsome.

“Alright love?”

“Yeah I’m fine, I’m guessing you heard everything John had said to me?”

“Unfortunately yes. Course we’re all aware of the rough patch him and Connie are going through but that’s no excuse to try it on with you. Anyway I won’t let on that I know, we’re at each other’s throats as it is without another argument being added to the mix. I’m proud of you Penelope. You showed to me your full commitment.”

Penny wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck.

“Well I only want you…”

She reached up and kissed Michael deeply.

“Cor blimey get a room you two!” said Eric.

Penny and Michael suddenly jumped.

“Well we were under the impression we were on our own…” said Michael.

“Oh don’t think I got chance to say congrats to you both. Nice one Mike you’ve certainly bagged yourself a nice one there, eh? Know what I mean?” said Eric.

Penny started laughing at Eric’s Nudge Nudge impression. It was one of her favourite Python sketches. Which was surprising considering most of her favourite sketches had Michael in them!

Michael rolled his eyes as Eric had an annoying habit of going into the sketch pretty much every day…

“See Mike your girl has good taste, she likes my Mr Cheeky character!”

“That’s probably because she hasn’t had the pleasure of hearing it every single day…”

“Alright, alright, anyway seriously Mike I’m really pleased for you. If you need any help with picking a suit or how to have your hair I’m your guy! Said Eric with a wink.

“Thanks Eric.” Said Michael.

“So, uh, I’ll see you at the pub later?”

“Yeah we’ll see you at the pub later. Then we can go into more detail about our news!” said Penny, she put her hand on top of Michael’s as she said this.

Eric left them in the tent on their own.

“Honestly we can’t have some time on our own without some Python interrupting eh?” said Michael.

“It seems not love.” Said Penny.

“Hey are you guys still here?” said Terry G.

Michael and Penny looked at each other and grinned. Yep The Pythons really were the ultimate cock blockers.

“Yes it seems we are.” Said Penny.

“Well hurry up lovebirds we’re off to the pub soon!”

“We’ll see you there.” Said Michael.

Once Terry G had gone Penny started to laugh.

“Yep the Pythons are officially cock blockers!” said Penny.

Both Penny and Michael headed off to their respective rooms and had a shower. Michael heard a scream coming from Penny’s room and knew that she’d experienced yet another cold shower. Michael laughed to himself.

Penny on the other hand after she’d had her shower, a not very nice one at that, put on minimal makeup with some jeans and a t-shirt. She was just about to head out when she remembered she hadn’t put on her engagement ring.

Man I have to get used to wearing a ring…

Michael had also chosen to go casual in his clothing. He’d started going through wedding dates in his mind. He knew it would have to be after he had finished filming The Holy Grail. He didn’t want the engagement to be long. He wanted Penelope to have stability as soon as possible.

Michael knocked on Penny’s door to check that she was ready.

“Well, well, doesn’t my fiancée look absolutely gorgeous?”

“Well, well, doesn’t my fiancé look completely and utterly handsome?”

Michael held her hand and admired her ring. A good choice even if he said so himself.

“That ring suits you.”

“You still haven’t told me when you got the ring.”

“I got it when on one of your day offs during a lunch break.”

“Without the others knowing?”

“Yes I was quite surprised about that. I think they’ve been that occupied with arguing with each other, their observant skills must have slipped!”

Michael and Penny made their way to the local pub and spotted the other Pythons in their usual spot at the back of the pub. They soon spotted them and came up to Michael and Penny hugging them and kissing them on the cheek. Penny that is, not Michael.

“I hear congratulations are in order Penny and Michael, jolly good news to hear!” said Graham.

It seems one of the Pythons had told Graham the news, it looked as if he’d had enough to drink already!

“Thanks Gray.” Said Michael.

Throughout the entire night, the Pythons were very intrigued as to how this romance between Michael and Penny had blossomed as they thought it had all happened so fast! Of course they were happy for them it was just a big surprise for them.

Penny grew increasingly worried about Graham’s alcohol consumption. Surely The Pythons were aware that Graham’s drinking was becoming a problem? They couldn’t just turn a blind eye to it?

Yep definitely going to speak to Michael about this later. Wedding talk can wait, Graham is the priority.

The Pythons proceeded to try and embarrass Michael by telling Penny humiliating stories about him. Michael was turning red but Penny just found them hilarious. Michael really was a sensitive soul but that was one of the many things Penny loved about him.

“So Michael really hid in Carol’s wardrobe?”

“Yes, he was after some prop or something so he says and because he didn’t want to wake Carol he stayed in the wardrobe all night!” said Terry J.

“Oh Michael what are you like!” said Penny, she squeezed his dimples.

“Oh well, least you know what you’re getting yourself into marrying me!”

“Yes I’m marrying a very silly man! What complete torture!”

Penny loved hearing stories about Michael, she’d probably end up hearing stories from Michael’s mother when she meets her! That was something Penny was feeling very nervous about!

After a good few hours in the pub, the Pythons and Penny headed back to the hotel.

“Sorry if the guys were bombarding you with questions and telling you embarrassing stories about me. Honestly I could swing for them sometimes!”

“Michael it’s fine, I can deal with them you know. So am I sleeping with you tonight?”

She put wrapped her hands around Michael’s waist.

“Only if you want to.”

“Course I do.”

“Well that settles it.”

Michael and Penny were soon lying in bed. It seemed Michael wanted to talk about wedding dates but Penny wanted to first address Graham’s drinking problem. His extremely evident drinking problem.

“So! Wedding dates.”

“Can we hold the wedding talk just for a few minutes?”

“Uh yes, of course what did you want to talk about instead Penelope?”

“You guys are aware of Graham’s drinking problem right?”

“Ah that. Well we know Gray likes a drink a bit more than us and that…”

“Michael, the guy’s an alcoholic! He slurs his words, he forgets his lines, he needs help darling.”

“What can we do? It’s not really our place to say anything.”

“Not your place to say anything? You’ve been working with him for the past 4/5 years! If you can’t say anything, who can?”

“Well I suppose David could have a word with him.”

“David being his partner right?”

“Yes he could try and talk some sense into him.”

“And what happens if that doesn’t work? You just let him drink himself into oblivion?”

“Alright Penelope, calm down.”

“Look darling I’m sorry for going on a rant but I know you care a great deal about him as do the other guys and I don’t want Graham to ruin himself just because of you lot trying to be all bloody macho!”

This was why Michael was marrying Penelope. Because she knew how strong the friendship was between the Pythons and cared about Graham even though she hardly knew him.

“Well I suppose I could say something to him…”

“Look Michael I know you’re not the confrontational type but you have to be there for him, otherwise it’ll be too late and all that wonderful talent Graham has will have gone to waste.”

Michael held her face and smiled.

“God I love you Penelope, you’re so kind and caring.”

“I love you too Michael. Now what was this talk about setting a date for the wedding?”

“Oh yes the wedding! Well I was thinking we finish filming 2nd June? So we could make the wedding 10th?”

“Yes that sounds great!”

“Wonderful, well I’ll ring my parents to tell them the good news!”

“Sounds great, well, goodnight Michael.”

Penny kissed him on the lips.

Penny went to sleep with the thoughts of an upcoming wedding. She was expecting to wake up and find that it had all been a dream. To her surprise, she woke up and Michael was sleeping next to her, snoring slightly. She laughed to herself.

God he even looks cute asleep.

She moved a piece of hair from his eyes and kissed him on the cheek.

“God I love you Michael.”

[geekmama]

Cake for Breakfast

Written for the the First Argument prompt for May 18th of Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017, this is the 20th fic I’ve written for my post-S4 series, ‘Time of the Season’...

“No, you bloody cannot have cake for breakfast!” was the roar that greeted Molly as she trudged up the steps to 221B after a very long night at Barts. 

It had been her first graveyard shift since Daisy’s birth, an emergency for which Mike Stamford had begged all hands’ assistance. She’d been glad to do it, but she’d forgotten how exhausting such hours could be when one was no longer used to them. But Sherlock’s shout, no doubt directed at their young sons, made her sputter with laughter, and she suddenly felt lighthearted. 

She trotted up the few remaining steps and as she entered the flat she grinned at Sherlock, saying, “You’ve certainly changed your tune, now that you’re a staid middle-aged man and a father!” 

Cries of Mum! Mummy! Can’t we have cake? It’s almost like scones, You let us have scones for breakfast all the time!, rang out from Will and Jon as they rushed to her, nearly knocking her over with their enthusiastic hugs. 

“Thank God you’re home,” said Sherlock, looking both frazzled and angry. “I don’t care what Stamford says, no more graveyard shifts for you until the baby’s weaned, she was up half the night, refused to take a bottle, and now here are these brats trying to filch cake for breakfast when I specifically told them hands off!” 

“You said there’d be scones,” Will complained resentfully. 

“Will,” said Molly, sharply, “that’s enough. Though Mrs. Hudson did say she’d be baking this morning.” She turned to Sherlock. “Where is she? Is she alright?” 

“She’s fine, but her sister was taken ill and she’s gone off to Devon.” 

“Oh, no!” Molly exclaimed, “Is it serious?” 

“No, just a virus of some sort, but she’s pretty knocked up and Hudders is likely to be gone a few days. I just hope she doesn’t catch it herself.” 

“I’m sure she’ll be careful--” But Molly’s words were cut short by a wail from the bedroom. 

Sherlock groaned in frustration and gripped his already messy curls. “I just got her to sleep!” 

Molly said, “Well, one can hardly  blame her, with all the shouting. But don’t worry, I’ll give her a good feeding and she’ll go back down like a lamb -- I’m fairly desperate to nurse, so it’s as well she woke up. See if she needs a fresh nappy, and I’ll start some porridge for these young savages, how does that sound?” She smiled down at her adorable (if occasionally maddening) sons. “Porridge with a bit of butter and honey?” 

“Yes, please!” said Jon eagerly. 

“Alright,” said Will, sulkily. “But can we try the cake later?” 

Sherlock growled, “You so much as breathe on that cake and you’ll regret it. Your uncle sent that over specifically for your mother!” 

“Did he really?” Molly raised her brows, surprised and delighted. 

“It’s Princess Cake, from the dinner he attended last night at the Swedish embassy. He said it reminded him of you -- or wrote, actually, he sent the box round by courier with a note attached. Talk about misuse of government funds. Yes, Daisy, I’m coming!” 

As he stalked off to the bedroom, Molly herded her little sons into the kitchen, sat them down with half a banana each to tide them over, and proceeded to put their porridge together. It was only half finished cooking when Sherlock came in with a snuffling, tear-stained Daisy. 

“Here, you take this one,” said Sherlock, handing the baby over, “and I’ll finish making breakfast. And I may be middle-aged and a father, but I am not and never will be staid!” 

Molly chuckled. “I thought that would rankle.” She sat down at the table, and as she prepared to nurse her eager and now smiling daughter she continued. “But don’t’ you remember our first real argument? About you wanting cake for breakfast!” 

He frowned at her. “That was years ago!” 

“Not fair, Dad!” said Will. 

“You be quiet or you can do without breakfast,” Sherlock told him.

“I remember it very clearly,” Molly told Will and Jon. “Uncle John was away and your father wanted me to assist him with an experiment, and promised me breakfast if I’d come over after my shift. But Mrs. Hudson had gone out with some friends and the only thing edible in this flat was half a chocolate cake John had bought a few days before. I was not happy, to say the least.” 

Sherlock shook his head. “What a fuss you made!” 

“I’d been working all night and I was starving! And my mouth was all set for that fry-up and scones you’d promised me.  And then trying to fob me off with tea and that horrid cake? You can’t blame me for being enraged.” 

“I took you to breakfast.” 

“So you did -- and pouted the whole time.” 

“Counts as our first date, at least.” 

“It does not! You didn’t ask me out, I just insisted you take me.” 

“And I just gave in,” Sherlock huffed, then added provocatively, “No make-up sex on offer, either. I’d say you still owe me for that, Dr. Hooper.” 

Molly gaped. “But it wasn’t… we weren’t… ” But then she saw the teasing glint in his eye. 

“What’s make-up sex?” asked Jon. 

Molly felt herself blushing, and gave Sherlock a glare. 

But he merely looked down his nose at her and said to Jon, “It’s when mummy and daddy cuddle and hug and kiss for hours.” 

“Ewwwww!” said both boys together. 

Molly couldn’t help laughing. “You’ll understand when you grow up,” she told them, “just as your father has now seen the light, about that and about cake for breakfast.” 

“Well, not entirely,” Sherlock said, giving the porridge a final stir before taking the pot off the flame. “As an adult, I reserve the right to eat cake for breakfast whenever the mood strikes. You two, however, will eat porridge and like it.” He ignored the boys’ protests as he poured the cereal into their bowls, added just a dab of butter, a dribble of honey, and a moat of cold milk to each, and presented them with a flourish. “There you go. Eat up.” 

“Or starve?” Will said, cocking his head. 

“Exactly so, precocious brat,” returned his father, carefully not smiling. 

Molly said, “It looks delicious!” 

“There’s enough for you, if you don’t want cake.” 

“Oh, porridge, please, by all means! We’ll share the cake later -- if everyone is very well behaved today and allows mummy to catch up on her sleep.” 

Sherlock prepared two more bowls, one for himself, as well, and presently the whole family was peacefully enjoying a nutritious breakfast.

This state of affairs only lasted for a very short time, however. There was suddenly a rap at the door of the flat, a raucous voice calling “Hallo!!” and the sound of a light footfall that resolved itself into the person of Rosie Watson. “We’re going to the zoo!” she announced happily as she entered the kitchen. “Can Will and Jon come with us? Do you all want to come? Oh, please say yes!” 

The boys, who adored their lively “cousin”, had already burst into a chorus of, “Can we? Please?” when John walked into the kitchen, grinning at his daughter’s enthusiasm, but saying, “That’s enough, finish your breakfast, lads. Settle down, Rosie, can’t you see they’re still eating?” 

“I’m finished!” cried Will, pushing his bowl away, and Jon, of course, followed suit. 

Sherlock was eyeing the considerable amount of uneaten porridge in their bowls with disapproval, but before he could say anything, Molly told the boys, “You must finish it all, and quickly, too, if you want to go.” When she saw them obediently retrieve their bowls and tuck in, she turned to John. “Would you mind just taking the boys? I was at Barts all night, and Daisy wasn’t happy about it at all.” 

“Ah!” said John, and turned to Sherlock, not quite deadpan. “So that’s why you look like something the cat dragged in.” 

Sherlock sighed. “I’d tell you to shut up, but if you’re going to take these brats off our hands for a while I’d do better to kiss your feet. Metaphorically speaking, at least.” 

“You’re certain you don’t mind, John?” asked Molly, once more. 

But John chuckled. “They’ll be fine -- or they know they’d better be, at least.” 

“I’ll take care of them,” said Rosie confidently. 

Will grinned, and Jon looked at her adoringly and said, “Rosie always takes good care of us!” 

* 

A very few minutes later, the zoo-goers headed out, descending the stairs like a herd of small elephants. Molly and Sherlock sat listening to the racket fade away, and end as the door to 221B was closed behind them. 

Sherlock sat back with an exaggerated sigh of relief. “John is a bloody saint!” 

Molly smiled. “Rosie, too. And, incidentally, your daughter. Look!” Daisy had fallen sound asleep while nursing, and now lay back in her mother’s arms, limp and entirely lost to dreamland. 

Sherlock’s eyes were soft upon his baby girl, but after a few moments he raised them to catch Molly’s gaze. Their softness took on a distinct glint. “It’s nap time and no mistake,” he murmured. “And wasn’t there a recent mention of make-up sex? I could have sworn…” 

“There was. It was you who mentioned it, actually -- though you owe me, Mr. Holmes, not the other way around.” 

“You have my sincere apologies for ever indicating otherwise,” he said as he stood up and came around to her side of the table to take Daisy from her. “Now, if you would care to accompany me to the bedroom, we’ll stash this one in her cot and I can begin to make amends.” 

But Molly just sat there, a tired, silly smile on her face. Amends. And a long nap after. And Princess Cake. What did I do to deserve such happiness? She sighed blissfully, and said aloud, “I love you, Mr. Holmes.” 

He rolled his eyes and, pretending to lose patience, said, low but intense, “I know you do, isn’t that the bloody point? Come on, Hooper! Get your sweet arse off that chair and into my bed immediately!” 

He led the way, carrying the baby, and she followed, chuckling. 

It was only later, when they’d finished and lay in each other's arms, sated and exhausted and on the edge of much needed sleep, that she heard him whisper, “I love you, too, Mrs. Holmes. More than my life,” and she had to rouse herself to kiss him, just once more.

 ~.~

[goodra-king]

Transcript of Creating a Brand Name That Sticks

Transcript of Creating a Brand Name That Sticks written by John Jantsch read more at Duct Tape Marketing

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Transcript

John Jantsch: Hello and welcome to another episode of the Duct Tape Marketing Podcast. This is John Jantsch, and my guest today is Jeremy Miller. He is a brand strategist speaker, founder of Sticky Branding and the author of Brand New Name: A Proven, Step-by-Step Process to Create an Unforgettable Brand Name. So Jeremy, welcome to the show.

Jeremy Miller: Thanks John. It’s a pleasure to be here.

John Jantsch: So I have to tell you, I’m going to have a confession. You know my brand name is Duct Tape Marketing.

Jeremy Miller: Yes.

John Jantsch: But my original company name was Jantsch Communications.

Jeremy Miller: I love that you changed your name then. It’s one of my favorite marketing names that has been unforgettable, and following you for eight years, it’s in that range that it just sticks.

John Jantsch: Well, Jantsch Communications was terrible as a name, because it was-

Jeremy Miller: Well, it’s your name. You can’t knock your family name, your parents worked hard on it.

John Jantsch: It was my name, but people thought I sold long distance or something, I don’t know. I’m dating myself, right? What’s long distance? But anyway, yeah, we’re going to talk about that. Let me ask you the first question. What’s the job of a brand name? What does a brand name need to do to be successful?

Jeremy Miller: Well, I think of a brand name as a label in a file folder in your customer’s mind. It’s that thing that people refer to when they have a need. When you go to a grocery store, when you are talking to someone, we think in words, we think in names. It’s the way we identify something. There’s this classic scene in the Simpsons, I don’t remember if you recall, but Mr. Burns loses his power plant and he becomes a normal person, he has to do his own grocery shopping. He’s sitting in the grocery aisle and he’s looking at catsup and ketchup, and just back and forth, “Ketchup, catsup,” and everyone down the aisle are looking at him, “What’s this crazy person doing?” He doesn’t have the words to know how to buy something. And that’s the purpose of a name. It’s that thing that gives you meaning.

John Jantsch: Well, and full disclosure, I lucked on to Duct Tape Marketing. I mean, I just thought that that sounded like a good name, but I didn’t do all kinds of extensive research. But what everybody kept telling me every time I would say it is like, “I get it. It tells a story.” And so without really knowing, I think I kind of lucked onto really one of the key attributes of a great brand name, isn’t it?

Jeremy Miller: I think so. And I think a great name absolutely does tell a story, and that’s what makes it memorable, that we understand it. Now, not all names have to tell a story. A name could be an empty vessel. When you look at Kodak, George Eastman’s vision was to create a name that meant nothing, that he could breathe life into so that it became a story of the Kodak moment. So you took a descriptive metaphor and were able to apply it to marketing. We understand what duct tape is, we understand what marketing is, but by putting them together, it creates this aha moment. But it all depends on the entrepreneur’s strategy. What do you want your business to be? And then you choose the name that fits it.

John Jantsch: Let’s go to that Kodak example, because yes, in hindsight, huge brand name, everybody knows what it meant or what it stood for at one point, but when you come up with a name like that, does it require then that you’re going to invest so much energy in having to explain to people and describe it and maybe even spend years getting it to become a household name?

Jeremy Miller: Yes, absolutely. So when you choose an empty vessel such as a Kodak or a Verizon or Hulu or any of those types of names, then you have to breathe life into it and make it your own, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s your opportunity that when people interact with your business and your products and your service and your people, that’s how you’re inserting meaning and value into that name, but you’re going to have to work harder to promote yourself. So you have that balancing act, but that’s actually part of the strategy too. The biggest reason why we are going towards empty vessels is that there’s a trademark issue.

Jeremy Miller: There’s actually a naming drought. In the United States alone, we are registering 564,000 new small businesses every single month. That’s 2% of the United States population starting a company at any given time, and that’s just a mind boggling number for me. Now, not all these businesses are going to survive, but they all need names and they all need websites and then a chunk of them are going to do trademarks. And so we’re, today, experiencing an issue where all the available .coms, if you’re going to go buy a website, chances are you’re going to have to buy it from someone else. It’s like real estate. But if you throw the trademark element to the mix, now we’ve got really complicated things.

Jeremy Miller: So being able to register something like Duct Tape anything today, it’s going to be really hard. You got in at a moment in time that allowed you to create this powerful brand story.

John Jantsch: Well, and I love the Hulus and the names that you threw out there when they really evoke emotion for me. Even if I don’t know what it means, I like the sound of it or something, or even then when it’s explained to me what it means, sometimes. But can we also get too clever? I mean, I see a lot of people doing stuff where I’m kind of like, I can’t even say that, let alone spell that.

Jeremy Miller: Well, I think there’s absolutely that. So my advice if you’re inventing a word is focus on something that is a phonetic spelling versus a Latin or Greek spelling. It’s a lot easier to say Hulu than Verizon, and it’s a lot easier to remember that, same thing with Uber and other things, even though they’re short. Acura is an example of a phonetically spelled word that was invented or Swiffer is another one. We speak and think in sounds, whereas something that has more of, say, a pharmaceutical type of nature is a lot harder to remember. So there’s that element of our programming as people.

Jeremy Miller: But I would also just say this, that name is strategic. What you choose to name something should represent your brand, your positioning, what you’re trying to create. So if you called, say, a chain of retirement living centers, purple taco, you probably have got the wrong strategy, even if it sounds kind of cool. So the name has got to fit what you want to create. So your strategy is where everything starts.

John Jantsch: The name thing is hard, because you can come up with and test some names … I’ve found over the years, you’ll get feedback, people, “Oh, that’s terrible. That’s awful.” But then you go with it and 10 years in it’s like Frisbee. Probably a stupid sounding name the first time somebody heard it, but then became … And again, not everybody’s looking for naming a whole category of a device, but isn’t that a good example of sometimes you got to throw stuff out there at first maybe doesn’t just sound right?

Jeremy Miller: I’m going to come back to the Frisbee story in a second, but yes, a quirk, something that is odd or doesn’t quite fit, like Slack. How could a product focused on team collaboration have all these negative connotations? But the name is just great. Same thing with Banana Republic. If you look at the history of what banana republics are, calling a clothing brand that, is a pretty risky, bold move. But those quirks are what makes something so memorable. You mentioned Frisbee, that’s actually a story I tell in the book. Fred Morrison, who was the inventor of the Frisbee, hated that name. He thought it was the dumbest thing. The original name was called Pluto platters.

Jeremy Miller: So Frisbee was bought by Wham-O. They were the guys who created Hula Hoop and Silly String. And so [Fred Knerr 00:00:22:52], who was one of the founders, went out and he visited Fred Morrison in Connecticut near Yale, and he saw all the kids were calling this thing Frisbee. And it turns out Frisbie was a pie company in Connecticut, and what the kids did before Netflix and internet and iPhones, they would take empty pie tins and throw them around the quad. So they took the name of the pie tins and applied it to these flying saucers. And Fred Knerr was just a brilliant marketer and he saw what the customers were already calling it and took that.

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John Jantsch: So tell me this. Does everything need a name? In other words, should we be naming our processes and our products and our divisions and our job titles? Brand it?

Jeremy Miller: Yes, 100%. I think you can go probably a little too crazy on it, but I would say for something to exist, it needs a name especially in the professional services world, if we’re selling thought leadership. You look at just how you name your systems, how you name your services, not only does it give it gravitas from a customer marketing perspective, it gives it gravitas from an internal perspective. So that if you are talking about your efficiency and the way you deliver customer service, simply by giving that thing a name creates value. And so naming is probably the most important construct of language, because once something has a name, it gains meaning. And if you are deliberate on this, you are making choices of how you are going to grow your business.

John Jantsch: Yeah. And I think sometimes, you said gives it meaning, but it also makes it tangible. It’s almost like, “Oh, here’s proof that we have a 37 step process to make sure that your product or your service gets done right.” Where everybody else is just saying trust us.

Jeremy Miller: Exactly. And in the world of differentiation, especially if we’re looking at small businesses, often we are selling something that somebody else is already selling. So how you describe your services, how you describe what makes you unique and why you do what you do, those simple things of giving them names are what affects meaning and give you credibility when you describe your 37 step process for delighting your customer, then people go, “Oh, that’s why you do that.”

John Jantsch: And I know the answer to this is yes, is there a process for coming up with a name?

Jeremy Miller: 100%.

John Jantsch: You want to share that with us?

Jeremy Miller: Sure. Let me tell you a bit of where it came from. I’m a serial entrepreneur and you are too, and we work with lots entrepreneurs, and naming is one of those vexing things that consumes so much time and every time you find a great name you find someone else has taken it. And so the reason why I wrote this book was I tried to answer the question of, what do I wish I had when I went through that naming process? And so Brand New Name draws on the ideas of the GV sprint and agile project management. And the idea is over the course of two to four weeks, it gives you three stages to build your strategy, generate lots of ideas and test and select the right name for your brand.

Jeremy Miller: And so in stage one we need to build a strategy, what does it mean to have a great name? And how are you going to know it when you see it? And step two, I believe in employee co-creation, which is how do we get everybody on our team to participate and generate as many ideas as we can over the course of five days? And then the hardest part of naming isn’t coming up with ideas, it’s that vetting process. How do we find one that resonates, fits the brand and most importantly, we can own it? And so that’s what the book does. In the span of that book, everything you need to name something, whether it’s a company, a product or service is all there in those pages.

John Jantsch: Go back to number one for me, because I think that’s actually the hardest part for a lot of companies, because they don’t have a strategy anyway. And so a naming strategy is like a subdivision of strategy. What are the actual steps in that?

Jeremy Miller: So what we start off with is defining, what is it you’re naming. And so it’s the simple question of, what are you naming? Is it a company? Is it a product? Is it a service? And then describing it. My first book, Sticky Branding, I talked about this idea called simple clarity, which is the ability to describe who you are, what you do and who you serve in 10 words or less, and so we build on this a little bit. Part of what we look at in developing your strategy is to be able to answer those basic questions. What are we naming? What are the criterias? Who are our customers? How do they buy? Who are our competitors? What are the naming trends in that space? And what is it going to take to stand out?

Jeremy Miller: And so we go through those questions so that you could set some naming principles. But what you said was very interesting, it’s a subset of strategy. Oftentimes though, when we are doing a naming strategy or when I introduce this to somebody, this is the first time they’ve actually ever considered some of these questions as brand, because we’re not necessarily thinking about brand all the time. So naming is the first step for many people to actually ask the deliberate questions of, who are we? Where do we play? How do we win? How do we want to be known? And by simply getting that down on paper, starts to set the guidelines for what it’s going to take to find a brilliant name.

John Jantsch: I’ve worked with a lot of small business owners and we go through the whole strategy thing, and just like Jantsch Communications, I talked about, was a lousy name, I have to deliver the really bad news that we need to change the name of your business. Is that something that … I mean, you’ve probably faced it before, and if the name’s wrong, I mean, I suppose we can live, but we’re not going to get the message across, we’re not going to get the differentiation across. How do you address or approach that idea of maybe the name now is going to be sort of the leading edge of our strategy, because it’s going to be something that we’re going to have to change everything about? I mean, how do you address that?

Jeremy Miller: Face forward and deal with it head on. So we deal with name changes all the time in our practice. And so for example, a large part of my work is with multi generational family businesses, and we did a naming project a couple of years ago where it was called A-1 Shipping Supplies. It was made for the yellow pages basically, but 35 years later, there is no yellow pages and A-1 looks cheesy as hell. Oh, by the way, they’re doing food packaging, primarily not shipping supplies. And you deal with it. When your name is causing dissonance or hurting your credibility or preventing growth, you change it. Now, in their case, they changed their name to Rocketline, and they created a quirky, whimsical name that didn’t have a lot of meaning, but it allowed them to shape what they want to be.

Jeremy Miller: But the key in changing a name is that all that meaning and all those experiences people have had with you are associated with the one name, you have to deliberately pour those contents into the other vessel. And so you have to have a marketing strategy and a communication strategy of how you’re going to convey what your new name is and why you’re changing it to customers, prospects and whoever it is. The nice thing is as a small business, you could probably call up all of your customers and tell them face to face or over the phone why you did it, whereas if you’re talking about a large global or multinational company, it’s a lot more complicated. But generally speaking, it’s not that hard, and so if your name hurts you, change it.

John Jantsch: Is there a place for a transition? In other words, go through two name changes or something? You’ve seen people do that, where they blend the logos or something like that. Does that make sense or does that just make it harder?

Jeremy Miller: I guess you would have to tell me what the strategy is. I think within mergers, that sometimes makes sense, but those are probably larger entities with a larger communication strategy. What I would suggest is go with the name for the brand you want to be. So whatever you look at three, five, 10 years, don’t worry about what’s happening in the next 18 months, think about where you’re going and choose the name for that. What you need, though, in your communication strategy is … Where most people underestimate is how long they should be communicating the change. So they do say a 90 day or a six month campaign to communicate the change, but-

John Jantsch: “We did a press release.”

Jeremy Miller: Yeah. It’s 18 months minimum. 18 months.

John Jantsch: Yeah. You already mentioned this idea of domain names. I mean, have you ever come up with a name, and then first thing you did was look for the domain and just said, “No, it’s a nonstarter, because we can’t get a good name.” I mean, are we at a point where that is dictating branding?

Jeremy Miller: If you asked me this question five years ago, I would have said yes, 100%. Today, no. I think domain names are losing a little bit of relevance. So now, we add a descriptor. So for example, say you wanted to call your company Grant, and you want a grant.com, well I know that’s available right now, but it’s $10,000 a month on lease. I don’t know about you, but I got better ways to spend that kind of money on an annual basis. So what you look at is … So Tesla was Tesla Motors until very recently, or Buffer ran as Buffer app until their second round of funding and they could afford to buy the .com. Focus on creating a great name, and then put a descriptor on it or get creative.

Jeremy Miller: One of my favorites is Zoom, they have zoom.us or Zoom us, so they made their name a verb. The only place people are seeing domain names primarily today is in your marketing collateral and your business cards. When you go to a browser, you type in the word not in the URL, and when you see it on a website or somewhere else, you click the link, or more likely you’re going to be talking to Siri or Alexa and not even saying the URL.

John Jantsch: Yeah. Well, and there’s, as you just mentioned, .us and .ios and all those I think have become pretty … People are very accepting of those. And I think you’re right. I’m sure there’s a zoom.com, I haven’t Googled it, but I’m sure there’s a zoom.com, and so then if somebody has the exact name and a .com, that probably could lead to some confusion.

Jeremy Miller: It could, but it’s like trademarks, are they in the same space and the same category? Like you have Pandora, which is jewelry and Pandora, which is a streaming music service. So you can have multiple companies using the same names, but because they operate in different places, they can get away with it, and especially small businesses. Chances are we are local, and so the fact that there’s someone else named what you’re named in another state, it may not be all that relevant.

John Jantsch: You’re right, the behavior has changed. It used to be .com or nothing else, and I think that now, as you said, it’s not so important that people are typing it, as long as you do the fundamental SEO stuff with it.

Jeremy Miller: Here’s my most fundamental comment to branding, and this is a bit of a flippant, but build a great business. The classic example is you see a restaurant, comes out with brilliant marketing, brilliant ad campaign, beautiful restaurant, great everything, and then you get food poisoning. So the brand is, “Don’t go back to that place, I got food poisoning.” None of the marketing mattered. And I think you could actually start a small business with a terrible name, but do such great work that people love you and they come back and they refer you, and that’s your brand actually. It’s two parts. A brand is based on what you’ve done, so the results that you have delivered to your clients, and branding is what you’re going to do.

Jeremy Miller: Now, if the name starts to hurt you or you grow beyond it, now you need marketing that needs reach and that crappy name doesn’t work for you anymore, absolutely change it, but never lose sight that the quality of your business is the number one predictor of the quality of your brand.

John Jantsch: Yeah. I’ve often said, and listeners of my show will recognize this, that every business has a brand, I think it’s just whether or not they are directing it intentionally, so that goes so much to that. Jeremy, where can people find out more about you and your work and of course, pick up a copy of Brand New Name.

Jeremy Miller: Well, Brand New Name will be sold wherever books are sold. It comes out on October 8th, so Amazon for sure. And the best way to find me is just to Google Sticky Branding. Stickybranding.com is my website, and I’m on all the social networks @stickybranding, and I’d love to connect with everyone.

John Jantsch: Awesome. Thanks for taking the time, Jeremy, and hopefully we’ll see you out there on the road soon.

Jeremy Miller: Awesome. Thanks John.

from http://bit.ly/2mKQHti

[filosofablogger]

I’m not quite sure how it came to be Monday again already, but according to all my calendars, the one on my phone, on my laptop and the wolf calendar on the kitchen wall, it is once again Monday.  I can account for only 5 days since the last Monday, so perhaps Congress passed legislation making the weeks shorter, and nobody thought to tell me.  But alas, it is my duty … and pleasure … to start your week out with a chuckle, a smile, a hug and some love, so that is what I will do today.  Grab a cup of coffee and pull up a chair, and let me show you what I’ve found for us to smile, chuckle, and ‘awwwwwww’ about this morning!

You all remember Necco candies from your childhood, right?  It was never my favourite, rather a ‘meh’ sort of candy, but they seemed to always be popular.  It seems that New England Confectionery Company, the makers of Necco candy, are seeking a buyer.  The company, which has been around since 1847, has said that if a buyer is not found by early May, it will begin the process of shutting down as early as May 6th.  Now here’s what’s interesting … the candy is not popular, is often referred to as America’s least favourite candy, and yet people are going wild over the news that the candy may soon be no more.  I don’t get it!  The candies have described as “tropical drywall” and “plaster surprise,” according to The Wall Street Journal.

CandyStore.com, a Los Angeles-based bulk-candy retailer, reported that people began “panic-buying” the wafers on March 12, the day the Boston Globe reported Necco chief executive Michael McGee’s announcement that the candy company could shut down if it did not find a buyer.

Floridian Katie Samuels made an offer to CandyStore.com …

“I offered to trade my 2003 Honda Accord for all of their stock. I knew it was kind of a silly thing to say, but I’m serious. I don’t have much right now, so I was like, ‘I’ve got this car, and I want all that candy, so maybe they would consider it.'”  They didn’t.

Another online retailer, Candyfavorites.com sold more Necco Wafers on Wednesday than it would normally sell in six months, depleting 90 percent of its Necco Wafer inventory, said owner Jon Prince.

“We’ve had people offer to purchase our entire inventory. I had an older lady who offered to send me chocolate chip cookies for the entire year if I were willing to sell her beyond our limit. I was tempted because I love baked goods. But I didn’t do it.”

While a box of 24 rolls of Necco typically sells for between $21 – $35, they are now going on ebay for as much as $300!  People are apparently thinking to get rich off these undesirable little sweets!

And for your daily dose of cuteness …

It was windy in upstate New York last week.  So windy that it blew a little baby girl squirrel right out of a tree.  The squirrel broke the bone in her tiny left-front leg.  But take heart!  She was rescued by the Orphaned Wildlife Center, who took her straight to the Catskill Veterinary Services in Rock Hill.  They are taking good care of the little girl squirrel, and put a bright green cast on her little arm.  Awwwwwww ….

I bet you cannot watch this short clip without saying “awwwwwwww” at least once!  You can check her out on Facebook.

I have long bemoaned the state of higher (and lower) education in the U.S., the fact that we seem to be ‘dummying down’, the standards are not as high, and the focus seems more on job and techno skills than on the humanities, social sciences, literature, and teaching young people how to actually think.  A professor at Southern New Hampshire University (SNHU) has driven my point home.

The class project was to compare a social norm between the U.S. and another country.  Student Ashley Arnold chose ‘social media use’ for her norm, and for her country she chose Australia. But when Arnold got her grade back on Feb. 1, she was shocked to see her professor had failed her. Why? Because, according to the teacher, “Australia is a continent; not a country.” The professor, who has a PhD in philosophy, had given Arnold zero points in multiple sections of the assignment because she believed that Australia wasn’t a real country.This led to a bit of back-and-forth via email:

Ashley: I believe I got zero or partial credit because the instructor said, ‘Australia is a continent; not a country. However, I believe that Australia is a country. The research starter on the SNHU’s Shapiro library written by John Pearson (2013) states, that Australia is the ‘sixth-largest country in the world’ (n.p.). The full name of the country is the Commonwealth of Australia, meaning Australia is both a continent and a country. Therefore, these sections of the rubric should be amended.

Prof: I will gladly re-examine your week 2 milestone project report. But before I do I want you to understand that any error in a project can invalidate the entire research project. Research is like dominoes, if you accidentally knock over one piece the entire set will also fall. Australia is a continent; it is not a country. That error made it nearly impossible for you to accurately complete your week 2 research outline correctly. As I mentioned above I will look over your week two paper once again and see if you earned more credits than I gave you.

Ashley: Australia is both a country and a continent. It’s the only country that is both. I provided a resource in the first email that clarifies that for you. If you need further clarification google or the SNHU Shapiro Library has that information you. Again I mean no disrespect but my grade is affected by your assumption that Australia is not a country when it in fact is. Thank you and let me know if I need to provide further resources proving Australia is a country.

Prof:  Thank you for this web-address. After I do some independent research on the continent/country issue I will review your paper.

No, folks, sadly this is not a joke … it really happened.  Ashley was ultimately given a grade of B+, refunded her money for the course and received an apology from the university.  The professor is no longer employed at SNHU.

And finally, in Austria (which is also a country, by the way), a man posted a snarky warning about speed checks on his Facebook page, whereby he referred to police as ‘Smurfs’. 

Authorities in Tyrol province imposed the fine of €160, or nearly $200 USD, for violating “public decency” by “defaming two police officers.”  As I’ve said before … you want to be careful what you post on Facebook!

And that, my friends, depletes my supply of ‘jolly’ for the week.  Time for me to tackle the never-ending pile of laundry and start a bit of spring cleaning, on this snowy Monday in April!!!  Today I will tackle the baseboards, walls & trim in the downstairs bathroom.  Wish me luck!  Have an awesome week … and friends … please make sure to share those smiles I am seeing … they are far too gorgeous to keep to yourselves!  Keep safe, my friends.  Love ‘n hugs from Filosofa!

Jolly Monday … WHAT??? Already??? I’m not quite sure how it came to be Monday again already, but according to all my calendars, the one on my phone, on my laptop and the wolf calendar on the kitchen wall, it is once again Monday. 

[suddenlyallatonce]

Family Dinner | Ellen, Jo & Dean

Thread with joannahunts and the-ramblin-man -- moving thread history over here!  Please tag this blog on the next post that’s my turn :)

Jo wasn’t exactly looking forward to the night. She’d sort of sprung the night on both Dean and her mother, and she was sure there would be screaming before the night ended. That was exactly the reason she’d decided to leave Billie at home with a babysitter, where she’d be safely away from any fighting.

This would be Ellen’s first time seeing Dean since the two women had nearly died helping him. She had a very strong feeling Ellen wouldn’t be as willing to forgive the man as Jo herself had been. Jo only hoped that Ellen would understand that Dean was good for her, good for Billie. And that was all that mattered to Jo right now. She hadn’t exactly meant for Ellen to find out about Dean yet, they’d only been dating a few weeks so far, but Billie, excited about his visit, had spilled the beans about ‘Unca Dean’ spending the night and that she’d seen the two adults kissing and the next then Jo knew, Ellen was insisting on a dinner with the two of them.

As she walked towards the door to her mom’s front door, she desperately wished she’d brought a flash with her. She could really use a drink right now, a nice dose of liquid courage seemed pretty necessary. She was putting on a brave face, trying to convince Dean things would be alright, but she was sure he didn’t believe her. “You ready?” she asked, glancing to Dean for a moment before bringing a hand up to knock on the front door.

Facing Jo for the first time since the battle that almost claimed her life had been one thing. Somehow, despite the guilt he had over getting her involved, he had managed to earn her forgiveness and even her love. The relationship had been new, he wasn’t even quite used to calling her his girlfriend yet. It was also long distance in ways, but he still talked to her on the phone frequently and had even facetimed with Billie.

Yet now Dean Winchester found himself facing an entirely new challenge, one that nearly scared the sense out of him. He was confront Ellen for the first time in seven years. Not only that, but now he was dating her daughter. He knew they should have told Jo’d mother earlier, but it was too late for that now.

Heart racing, he stood beside his girlfriend as she nocked on the door. “No,” he answered automatically before trying to muster up a smile for her. He started to wish the three year old was there as a distraction….or at least a shield. Surely Ellen wouldn’t go for her shot gun if her granddaughter were there. Either way, Dean knew he was screwed.

Dinner.  That was the best course of action, right?  Ellen tried to remind herself that it’s what Bill would have done, or would have wanted to do, if she’d let him.  But hell if there wasn’t a damn precedent for this situation.  Her daughter was dating the man who nearly got them both killed, the son of the man who had gotten her husband killed.  Who could say they were inviting that history to dinner?

If it hadn’t been Billie who had “broken the news” so sweetly to her, she probably would have been even more livid.  Even if you set aside the Harvelles’ history with the Winchesters, dating a hunter was a whole lot more difficult and dangerous when there was a child involved.  It was one thing for Jo to get herself mixed up with “ramblin’ men,” but for her to drag Billie into this?  Alright, she was still pretty pissed.

She couldn’t blame them for keeping it from her, though; there was no way she could react well to the news.  She had long since stopped trying to tell Jo that she had shitty taste in men; the girl seemed to crave heartbreak, as far as her mother could tell.  But Dean Winchester was still a step too far, even if it wasn’t unexpected.

But Billie also made it pretty damn impossible for her and Jo to deal with shit like this the way they used to:  just stop talking until they needed each other again.  Her grandbaby would have none of that.  The little girl didn’t get tension, she didn’t get grudges, all she could understand was not being able to see her Nana, and she would throw a fit.  Which made Ellen smile a little.

So the only thing for it was to try to deal with the damn problem head-on.  As difficult as it was for Ellen to think of it as “three adults discussing the elephant in the room,” helping Jo raise a child had shown her a growth in her daughter that she might’ve struggled to see for a long time.  And Dean…  Well, hopefully seven years had made a damn bit of difference with that boy.

Recent years had given her some practice cooking again, though Billie hardly ate anything other than junk food anyway.  But she hadn’t timed the ham quite right, and there were still twenty minutes on the timer when she heard the knock at the front door.  She swore under her breath and shifted the green beans off the stove before she strode over to the door, still wiping her hands on her jeans.

“Hey, Jo,” she said automatically when she opened the door, and she raised eyebrows with surprise at just the physical change in Dean Winchester.  It hadn’t really occurred to her that he would have aged, as silly as that would sound out loud.  “Dean,” she said, and she couldn’t help the grim drop in her voice when she said his name.  She cleared her throat to try to bring it up again and stepped aside.  “Come on then, you’re lettin’ the bugs in.”

“Hey, Mom,” Jo said with a smile, resisting the urge to panic and run. She hadn’t been this afraid to talk to her mother since… well since she’d shown up at the Roadhouse six months pregnant. Reaching out, she grabbed Dean’s hand, pulling him inside after her. She knew he had to be panicking just as much as her, if not more. She was used to fighting with her Mother, Dean… not so much.

“It smells amazing in here,” she said, trying to stick to safe non-confrontational topics for as long as possible. “Oh, before I forget.” She paused for a moment, reaching into her purse to pull out a bottle of rather expensive whiskey, one of her mom’s favorite brands. “Saw this at the store and knew I had to get it for you.”

She offered the bottle to her mother, a gift, a peace offering, a bribe to hopefully keep the night running smooth. “I’m not sure Dean’s tried this brand,” she said, a slow smirk spreading across her lips as she glanced up at Dean. “His taste in whiskey is terrible sometimes,” she teased, knowing it wasn’t exactly true. Hunters tended to stick to what was cheapest.

While Dean’s heart was beating rapidly as he waited for the door to open, as soon as he saw Ellen, it stopped altogether. Or so it felt like. The disappointment was clear in her features and he swore he could even hear it in the way she said his name. It was the kind of the thing that he figured he should be used to at this point: disappointing parents.

Jo’s hand woke up him from his thoughts and he followed her in. As she presented the whiskey, he suddenly felt inadequate, as though he should have brought something as well. Would flowers be too cliche, he wondered. Mercifully, Jo tried to break the tension with a little joke. “Hey, my wallet would have to disagree,” he told her with a smirk. Their bickering over whiskey brands was almost a ritual at this point. Not that he minded. It reminded him of the days when they first met and would bicker over everything.

When he looked up to see Ellen again, the smirk disappeared. “It’s uh, been a while.” I missed you, sounded lame to him, even in his head. “You look good. It’s a nice house.” He was floundering, hoping she’d say anything to put him out of his misery.

Seven years had changed so much, yet as he looked at the woman he once called family, he could recall their last day together as though it were yesterday. She and her daughter had nearly died, all because of his plan. Shame made it difficult to even look her in the eye, but he held his ground as best as he could.

Ellen closed the door behind him and hadn’t really finished taking in the change in Dean Winchester when Jo called her attention to the bottle she was revealing from her purse.  A small smile spread on her lips, and she gave Jo a knowing look.  She knew what her daughter was trying to pull here, and she might even know where she’d learned that trick.  All the same, she appreciated it.  Just the fact that Jo wanted her to be here, to be happy for her, was a surprisingly good feeling.

Taking the bottle from Jo’s fingers, she leaned in to hug her with one arm.  “Thanks, baby girl.”  Straightening, she held up the bottle to see the actual label and gave Jo an impressed flex of her eyebrows.  “Buffalo Trace?  That’s a hell of a find!”  She was already walking over to the liquor cabinet, but the comment on the smell reminded her to check on the ham, so she set it down instead.  “Get a few glasses out, would ya?” she said over her shoulder as she dipped down to see into the oven.

Satisfied that it still needed a few minutes, she pulled the mitt off her hand and smacked it into the other absently.  Turning back around to face them, her eyes fell back on her nervous guest.  And realizing that he was nervous made guilt twist in her stomach.  With the physical growth digested, she couldn’t ignore that it was still Dean.  Not Jo’s boyfriend, not John’s son, not the idiot boy who almost got her and her daughter killed – just Dean.  The boy she’d babysat, the one she’d called for help, the one she knew, the one she had trusted.  And she’d missed him, too.

Dropping the mitt on the counter, she stepped up closer.  “You’re taller than I remember,” she told him with a tease in her voice.  Instead of raising herself up, she reached up to squeeze his shoulder and bring him closer so she could hug him proper.  “Or maybe you just look short next to your brother,” she continued when she withdrew.  “How is he?”

Jo couldn’t hide the proud smile as Ellen was impressed with her choice of whiskey. Sure, the gift was maybe a bit on the nose, her Mom was smart enough to know it was meant as a bribe, but… the woman seemed to accept it easily, so that was a good sign.

“Sure, I can do that,” she said with a nod. She was completely familiar with her mom’s home. They had dinners together basically every other week, and often they worked together to finish cooking the meal. She knew exactly how to find everything she might need.

Moving to find glasses, she looked to Dean and flashed him a reassuring smile. She could see nervousness written all over his face, and it was… more than a little adorable. She understood that feeling entirely, her stomach had been in knots all day, and despite the delicious smell wafting through the house, and the fact that she hadn’t eaten all day, she found she wasn’t actually hungry. She was too worried about the fight that would inevitably happen. Jo tried to hide that worry, though, and watched her mother carefully as the woman approached her boyfriend.

“Well… In Dean’s defense, everybody looks short next to Sam,” Jo piped in, smiling softly as she watched the two hug, hoping that was a sign of her mother’s forgiveness. She knew that wasn’t something that was given easily, but Dean deserved it.

As the women moved about, getting things ready for dinner, Dean felt entirely out of place. He shifted his weight, wondering what he was supposed to be doing. In any other situation, he’d feel perfectly at home and would be already working in the kitchen, even with no idea of where everything was. He mentally chided himself for acting so foolish. It was only Ellen.

Ellen. The woman he nearly got killed.

He took a steadying breath, but before he could say anything, he saw the older woman walking over to him. He wondered if this was when the fight would break out, but instead she smiled and hugged him. It was like the first time he had ever met her: awkward, yet oddly comforting. He patted her on the back in a half hug, feeling the nervousness start to subside. When she moved back, he looked to Jo with an amused smirk. “Yeah and you look like some elf thing next to him.” Their own height difference had amused him for some time, but seeing her stand next to his brother could be downright comical at times.

“He’s good,” Dean finally answered as he turned back to Ellen. “We’re livin’ in that old bunker now, dunno if Jo told you. With Cass. They’re good. All things considered.” There was always a new big bad to fight which tended to put a strain on things, but for the time being, there weren’t too many complaints aside from the British Men of Letters. Things had certainly been worse. “What about you? It’s good to see you again. What are you doin’ these days?”

“A Bunker?” Ellen asked, eyebrows raised high as she looked between them.  “Sounds like something Bobby would’ve loved.”  The words were out of her mouth before she realized they’d hurt, and she tried to force a smile as she stepped back and took one of the glasses Jo had finished pouring bourbon into.

“Good to hear Sam’s still in the game.  Kinda surprising though.  And Cas is still around, too?” she asked idly as she sipped the drink and pulled serving dishes from the cabinet.  It was intended to be small talk, but such things were dangerous and full of landmines for hunters.  Nearly anything could be a trigger for an unpleasant conversation.  But they were adults here, as they were so insistent on making clear.

Turning to Jo as she shifted green beans into a dish, she asked, “Who did you leave Billie with?”