#she’s hitting you with the ‘erm actually’ because even though she can mail you to death

[itsafreetrialofdeath]

my collection of tavs ranging from:

- a paranoid cleric who forgot which god they worship and compensates by wearing talismans of every god

- an apathetic druid who thinks that when she eats people in wildshape it doesn’t count as cannibalism

- a flirty ex-paladin who can’t stay dead to save his life

- a socially inept ranger who has just now realized that his actions have consequences

[regicidal-defenestration]

Ringing in the Year of the Beleaguered Badger

In which Nobby and Colon celebrate the new year with an odd wooden companion

.

"It's looking at me all menacingly, sarge."

"Its not looking at anything, its eyes are painted on."

"Yeah, painted on menacingly."

Nobby and Colon considered the figure in front of them. It was certainly odd - a life sized wooden person, a wide grin and two bright blue eyes painted on its face, wearing an equally bright red uniform, with the occasional brown splotch that Colon was doing his best to not think about.

But it wasn't menacing, Colon was sure about that. It was just a toy owned by some rich nob, or else some sort of art display that pole rats (he was unsure of the exact term) like him weren't supposed to understand. Nothing menacing in the slightest.

Even so, Colon was glad of the window separating him from it.

"It just blinked!" Nobby yelped, hitting Colon in his alarm.

Colon scowled at him. Well - half scowled. Well - shared what may well have been a scared glance with his friend. But there was nothing to be scared of, not at all. It was just a bit creepy.

"You and your imagination, Nobby."

"It did!"

Nobby sounded genuinely shaken, which was worrying. Usually, when someone suddenly moved when they should have been still, it meant an opportunity for Nobby to sell back what he'd just nicked from their pockets. Not… whatever this reaction was.

Turning very deliberately away, Fred leaned against the building's wall. He imagined that he was sat back at his nice warm desk, making plans to go out and celebrate the new year properly, not out on patrol all because Vimes had insisted they go back to their roots as regular old officers. It was-

"It just waved at me Fred."

Colon's thoughts came to a screeching halt.

"How about," he said slowly, "we go back to our roots somewhere else?"

Nobby sagged in relief. And as the two of them made their way down the street, they ignored extremely hard the sound of shattering glass.

*

It was a nice, well lit, and most importantly, empty street, not a weird toy soldier in sight. Colon took his bell - a proper old Watch one, gods this probably hadn't been used in years - and rang it out once, twice, three times.

"Twelve o'clock and all is well!" he called over the loud clangs.

Nobby frowned.

"No it's not."

"Are you disrespecting a superior officer, Nobby?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, sarge. It's just that," he paused to allow Colon to raise an eyebrow, "it's not midnight yet, is it?. It's only half eleven."

Colon paused, took a moment to count on his fingers, then nodded in grudging acknowledgement. He swung the bell again.

"Half past eleven - yes alright no need to look so smug Nobby - and all is still well!"

"No it Isn't!" a third voice piped up, the capitalisation clearly audible.

The two men screamed, grabbing each other instinctively. They then spent an awkwardly silent few minutes trying to pretend like they hadn't just screamed and grabbed each other, and had, in fact, carried off the whole situation with a cool, calm, and collected air. It very nearly worked too.

Nobby was the fastest to regain a sense of composure.

"What d'you mean No it Isn't?" He looked around suspiciously. "Is that a threat?" There didn't look to be hosts of heavily armed thugs waiting in the shadows, but you never knew with these things.

"Oh no, mot At All! What I mean Is, All's not well Because we're Here!" 

The painted smile seemed to broaden.

A pause.

"We?" Colon asked, pointing between him and Nobby.

The Toy Soldier hummed for a good minute. Colon couldn't tell if the consideration on its face was faked, or if it was just Like That.

"Hmm, No, but I Do like your spirit! I'm Talking about Me and my Crew!"

Colon leaned in close to Nobby.

"Let me handle this, eh? Matters of diplomacy like this happen to be my four-tay, you know."

Nobby gave him a Look which was, in his (Colon's) view, was neither nice, nor sufficiently respecting of his (Nobby's) commanding officer. 

"And would you, fine citiz- nutcra- erm-" Colon paused as he scrabbled for a suitably diplomatic term, ignoring Nobby's snickers, "fine being, care to explain who the crew in question is?"

"And are you plannin' any funny business?" Nobby added, not willing to let go of his suspicion yet.

"Well, there's Me! There's Jonny, who is currently Beheaded, Nastya, who has Refused to Set foot on the Disc for Moral Reasons, Raph And Ivy, who are Helping Marius ask that man Vimes out to Dinne-"

"Well your Marius won't have much luck with that," Colon interrupted, undiplomatically. "Sam doesn't swing that way."

There was a moment of silence.

"Fred," Nobby began, putting on his best 'telling a figure of relative authority that they are, actually, spouting ideas that are even more incorrect than that time Aunt June got drunk at the Hogswatch party and began claiming that the world wasn't flat' voice.

"Mr Vimes'as been out for longer than I've known him. And you’ve know him longer than I have."

"But when I've gone about him being all strait-laced - you know how he gets - none of you bastards corrected me did you!"

Nobby was not a book-smart man. If asked what a thesaurus was, he'd probably say some sort of dead lizard. Whilst he didn't know his words though, he did know his friend.

"Fred," he said again, "d'you think strait-laced means a straight person who wears lace up boots?"

Colon opened and shut his mouth a few times, trying and failing to say something.

"Course I don't," he said at last, recovering admirably. "Just, keeping you on your toes."

Spinning to face the Toy Soldier and, he hoped, firmer conversational ground, he added: "Is Sybil aware of your Marius' advances on her husband?"

"Oh most Certainly! She has Even helped Plan Out his Speech!"

"Ah." Nobby nodded thoughtfully. "wuh-luh-wuh muh-luh-muh solidarity."

"Sybil likes women?"

"Course she does sarge. She was engaged to that lady nob, before Sam nat’rally, but they broke it off on account of her, the nob, not liking all them dragons."

"You know a lot of people, Nobby"

"Word gets around."

"Do you, er, have some sort of mailing list then?" Fred was capital-S Straight, but tried not to let that get in the way.

Nobby failed at holding in a snort of laughter.

“A mailing list? Blimey Fred, imagine me getting a Hogswatch card from Vetinari himself. An’ imagine all them just waiting eagerly to get my letter.”

Seeing Colon’s expression, he tried to school his face into a more serious expression, but it didn’t last long.

“Imagine- just imagine a letter showin’ up at the Watch House, well, multiple letters really, cause of the fact you’re the only straight an cis person I can name off the top of me head, after Archchancellor whass’name has an attack of the Genders last month, all them letters with their little rainbow wax sealing stamps-”

Colon cleared his throat loudly. He jerked his head over to where the Toy Soldier was standing, unmoving, unblinking. Creepy bugger, he thought, undimplomatically, but this time he didn’t say it out loud. Character development.

“I’m sure our... friend... here doesn’t need to know, eh, Nobby?”

“On the contrary, I Think it’s Marvellous! A Mailing list, what Fun! Oh, I Do so enjoy visiting you Silly little People, with your silly Little Ideas!”

The words themselves seemed insulting, but the Toy Soldier’s tone was still bright and cheerful. Although...  three consecutive sentences ending with exclamation marks is never a good sign.

“Oh! It’s nearly Midnight now, If you Wanted to ring your Bell Again- oh!” It clapped its hands together excitedly. “Can I Ring it? And say the Thing?”

Without a complaint, Colon handed the bell over. There was probably a Rule about not doing that somewhere, but his mind was still stuck back on Vetinari. Everyone knew the Patrician wore that black ring on his middle finger, of course, but he hadn’t actually thought properly about th-

Nobby’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“You’re slightly staring at it, sarge.”

“Wha-? Yes, of course, go ahead and er, say the Thing, if you want.”

“Twelve O’clock And all is Wel-”

Its final word was drowned out as the city bells began chiming.

Midnight in Ankh-Morpork, and thus, the New Year, was determined largely by consensus, each of the bells chiming slightly out of time with each other. The first to ring belonged to the Fools’ Guild, because there is apparently nothing funnier than getting woken up in the dead of night. The fireworks began as the big brass gong at the Temple of Small Gods rang out, bangs and explosions adding to the chorus of dings, clangs, bongs and jingles. By the time the big rocket exploded purple and red over the sky it was impossible to tell the bells from each other, except for the tongueless and magical bell of Old Tom in the Unseen University clock tower, whose twelve even silences could be heard even over the din.

The high point of the display was, as usual, the Alchemists’ Guild blowing up, this time with an aesthetically pleasing blue fireball.

Nobby whistled in appreciation.

"Happy new year Fred."

"Happy new Nobby. Happy new year Toy Soldier who's still following us around."

"Happy New Year old Chums!"

[polygamyff]

47. Part 4

Fixing my collars on my shirt while staring at myself in the mirror, I think I will leave the top button open; I look stupid with it all buttoned up to the top. I will just wear my shirt now, it’s evening and I am about ready to leave Atlanta, but I have to stay here, I guess “have you cooled off now? Are you going to not drink and also leave your dad alone, let him be?” looking behind me “kind of, but I can’t help but drink at events but I will have just water now, promise” that dress, it just does something to me every time, I just want to grip her back on that bed and fuck her “no” Robyn pointed at me, she knew “my bad, I just can’t help it. Like this dress just does something to me, keep it ok? Forever? Tell Adam to get you different colours in this too” I laughed “is it because of my boobs? What is it?” licking my lips “it’s because your body is just beautiful, like it gets me wild” rubbing my head “mhmmm I can tell, and next time don’t cum on my back” she hit me in the stomach, I laughed holding my stomach “but I cleaned it? Come on” folding up my sleeves “next time just do it in my mouth, how about that?” I groaned out, I swear I love this woman so much “you have to be the best pussy I have ever had, oh my god” I didn’t even realise I am following Robyn like a dog, she stopped abruptly and so did I “and the last?” nodding my head furiously as she turned to look at me “forever and ever” Robyn frowned at me “you can be such a dog at times” licking my lips staring down at Robyn’ body “for you, that is it” lightly placing my hands at the side of Robyn’ hips “don’t bother” Robyn tried to move away from me as I started to dry hump her “no! Maurice! No! Stop” she slapped my hand, I laughed moving away “stay away from me, like you can’t help yourself. I mean it” she walked backwards “stay there, I am going to put my earrings on. I need to put Reign to sleep so no, stay the hell there” putting my arms behind me smiling “I am waiting” I grinned, I could really just lay her over this bed and fuck her.

Robyn held my hand as we walked the lobby to the elevator “it is a nice hotel though, the room is very nice” I don’t really care for the hotel “well you naked makes it even better, I think since you had Reign you have gained, a little. I know your body, and you have gained in all the good places because when I am inside you, it’s all soft like cushions” Robyn is frowning at me again “you don’t just shut up, now I am fat?” shaking my head “no! I said you have gained in all the right places! I never said fat, why do you have to assume such things, you are so silly. I said you look good” pressing the elevator button “well I don’t want to be fat, you know” Robyn is funny, she is not fat at all. She is so perfect “if you are saying that me saying you are perfect is bad then fine, you are fat” Robyn hit my arm walking onto the elevator “shut up” I can see she is smiling from the elevator mirror, stepping onto the elevator “can you just not drink now? Seriously?” nodding my head resting against the elevator back “this is soo good for pictures, the mirrors!” Robyn spat, I guess this is where Robyn starts to get her phone out “like I knew” I said, Robyn is taking pictures “quick!” Robyn said, moving my head to the side looking at the mirror “I am not moving” I said, this is the best I will do. Robyn moved to the side, now my attention is gone. Poking my lips out looking at Robyn’ ass “have you ever had your ass ate? I will do it” biting my bottom lip staring “that is good enough me” Robyn laughed “huh” looking up, Robyn made her way over to me “this is so sexy! Got you staring at me” looking at the picture, I look like a creep in the back “I don’t think that is appropriate for a surgeon” Robyn stood next to me “be quiet, I will put as the caption. Now to drink the night away” I sighed out because I have been banned from drinking.

Walking behind Robyn as we made our way back to the little party “Jay? I thought you was supposed to search for us?” he is here sniffing about Ally “uh, I saw you walk off with Robyn. I ain’t dumb Maurice, I know where you went, I been living with you guys enough to know what you like” I busted out laughing dapping Jay “I know you nigga! Don’t be playing me” he knows us well “I feel like you have been living with us a little too long now” I am still laughing “this nigga wanted me to search for Robyn? I know you!” he is funny “ok, you got me there. Just checking on you” I said “I need to go and say goodnight to my daughter, have fun for the night” Dapping Jay again before walking off to see my daughter, catching her stifling out a yawn “awww Mi Amor, is she tired?” my dad has done it, he has finally held her “she is, I can put her to sleep?” my dad didn’t even wait to jump in “Robyn is, Reign can be difficult to put to sleep, Robyn has her way with her. You like grandad now? Is he nice?” touching Reign’ cheek, her cheeks are ever so red “I am going to take her to sleep now” Robyn said, my dad looked so sad that we said no to him putting her to sleep “well I will see you in the morning, I miss you already” my dad hugged Reign so close “goodnight little one” my mom said, taking Reign from my dad “someone has been a good girl, I love you so, so much. Be good for momma now” pressing kisses to Reign’ cheek “I love you, papa’ little girl” Robyn smiled at me “be good while down here ok?” nodding my head “you know me, I will be up soon. That mean you going to sleep too?” Robyn paused before nodding her head “I will have Reign, let my mom have some time alone. I feel bad” I guess she is right “ok, I will be up soon. Goodnight princess, night night” waving at Reign, she stared at me watching me wave “da!” she spat “awww Mi Amor, I know I am coming. Don’t worry, you see that? I am her favourite” Robyn just side eyed me as she walked off with Reign in her arms.

Drinking some of my water “erm, me and your mother will be off to sleep ok?” nodding my head “can we see Reign before we go?” my dad asked, I am surprised he is asking and not demanding “sure, we will have breakfast together, night. Terry” walking by my parents “I didn’t forget, shall we go to the lobby? I was like Terry will be the person I need to see, end of the night. Come” walking ahead of her “I trusted you would do Maurice; I adore your hotel. It’s beautiful, the whole event was” I grinned “thank you, I appreciate it. I think it’s been a long process, but I got there at the end. This was a bonus, you know. To take over Hilton, it’s really boosts us as a company and I am forever grateful the contract landed on my lap, they wanted to deal with me. Nobody else” making my way over to the seating area in the lobby “I did overhear that you had a lot of bookings for the night, that is amazing. It’s the name, it carries” sitting down, I am tired actually “That Davenport name, it does. You can get things if you are anywhere, it’s fun to have sometimes. But it’s about you, what is it I can do for you? Finally want that millionaire?” Terry laughed placing her wine glass down “no” she said through her laugh “I do not, I think I am happy to be with Thomas. I did think oh god, I will have to find another man, it’s scary because Thomas and I do know each other so well but he said it was a blip, he felt he was losing everything. We have been discussing a lot, even decided to start adopting, he wants to adopt. He goes he wants to bring up a child together and I am up for it, so I am going back. We are going to work on it, I have said to him. You need to speak to Robyn; you need to speak to Maurice. You have upset them so much, not just me. Before we even discussed this I said that you need to accept Maurice, you need to accept Robyn’ life. She loves you or even loved you and you ruined that, and I had to tell her the truth, he regrets it. He seems like he has not tried to move on at all, he calls and texts me constantly. He asked to see Reign, but I said no, not until you can get forgiveness from Robyn then you can see her, I won’t do that behind her back. So yeah, that has been happening” that is a lot, I blew out air all wide eyed “wow, that is a lot. Look Terry, who am I to judge, if you are happy. If he is treating you right then why not, as long as he has learnt his lesson, I am here for it. I am here for anyone’s happiness, yours too” Terry cooed out “also, I have something else” this is just great, another thing and I don’t mean it in a bad way, but I just want things to be good with Terry.

Terry laughed “you look nervous, don’t be. It’s nothing bad, so you know I am going back. Monday, I will be packing up to go. I feel like you both will be fine, I think it’s time for me to go back because you both have your life now, you both have this bond now and I need to go and do my own thing but I am always there for you, call me and I will be here but it’s time. I just want you to make sure you handle my daughter with care, she seems to have taken to New York she says she misses Cali but she is enjoying herself here, and it’s you of course but she will be ok. I just want you to both be well, just be there for her. She has her off days, I know. She gets her moody time but honestly, you take it so well now. I am happy to see you both, but please get Reign in her own room soon, please. It is working on her last nerve” I laughed out “I got you Terry, I got Robyn. I just needed Robyn to be here with me I think we will be fine; I am getting used to it. Things take time, I adore Robyn so much and I will give her the world, I am just thinking. I’m telling the whole world that Robyn is a Davenport, but it hasn’t been done on paper, without causing so much I may just do something small and quick until we can, but I need to speak to the boss. Which will be a no” I know how Robyn is “she will say no, I know that girl of mine but that was me just talking generally speaking, so Thomas went back to the home to pick up some mail of his, I said for him to open my mail. Let me know if I am missing anything. He was like are you sure? I said yes, I facetimed him while he did. Makes it easier to see what you are looking at. There was a letter arrived at the home, it was addressed to Terry Henderson, I goes Thomas that is weird. That was my surname before marriage, who would really knew that. So, he opened it, he read it to himself at first. He said, well looks like you got some answers you need to give to these people, I said what do you mean. So skipping over it, the letter was from Rell’ mother, she said along the lines, I see this girl in my face that looks like my boy, I am not seeing things. I don’t know how she got my home address; I have messaged my sister; I can imagine she was the one they would contact first because my sister lives on that side. But the letter Thomas was saying it was pretty much I want answers, I am being shown this girl on these news websites, I could be wrong. Now I am like oh dear, I have hid Robyn for so many years away from that family, they are good people, in their hearts but they are always up to no good, three of those family members are locked away, now I am like do I just ignore and move on. I just don’t want to ignore when Robyn may want to know that side of the family but I also don’t want to bring it up to her when she is just at her peak of just settling down with you” that is crazy, I wasn’t expect that now.

Rubbing my chin thinking “they for real just seen Robyn now? Like that is wild, she lives in Cali? Then again it’s a big place, erm wow. I would like to say get rid of them but that is not on me, that is on Robyn. So, they seen her what, on TV?” I questioned “she put in the letter that she saw Robyn on the TV; her smile was just like her father’ and I know his smile. I want answers, that is what she said and now I am like what do I do, I am going back to Cali Monday, so I am asking what you think to it? You think I should say it to her, let Robyn make that choice because as a baby I made it for her but now she has that choice” nodding my head slowly “I think you need to let Robyn make that choice and erm, who are we to tell her no, it would be nice if she did and I will of course support that” Terry cooed out “I will never be negative about it because that is just wrong, I loved Rell a lot and I wish he was around for Robyn’ life. I just probably know they hate me, twenty seven years and they never knew, I can only imagine what she felt when she saw Robyn because I feel it. I always like to know how you feel about things because then I get a feel for what Robyn will be like” now I get why Terry does this.

[artistjojo1228]

Rock and Roll Storytime #9: The Decline and Early Death of Brian Jones (including details I’ve found through personal research)

It was a cool spring morning when, while I was goofing off in art class, I got the bright idea to try writing about the 27 Club for one of those YouTube documentaries. The plan was simple: I was going to talk about Robert Johnson, Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Mia Zapata, Kurt Cobain, Kristen Pfaff, Amy Winehouse, and Anton Yelchin, seven because of being the “Tragic Seven” and the other three because I found their stories interesting (I actually first heard of the club not long after Anton’s death). 

And then, in about as much time as it took for me to come up with that idea, I went from being obsessed with Kurt Cobain to being obsessed with Brian Jones. Most likely, in my opinion, because of the mysterious circumstances surrounding his early death. I guess, in a way, all it took was me hearing that there were conspiracies saying he’d been murdered to convince me to look into his story. After all, very early on in my Nirvana obsession, I went through a regretful phase where I believed Kurt had been murdered. I didn’t want to make a similar assumption again. 

What I’m trying to say, is that this will be about Brian’s ousting from the band he created, his death on the night of July 2, 1969, and the steps I took to figure out what the hell happened. 

By mid-May, I’d already come up with my first theory: that Brian had an asthma attack and drowned as the result of that. Around this time, I learned that Brian: a, had a sister, Pamela, who’d died at the age of two from leukemia (he was just three), and b, within the next year, he suffered a severe bout of croup that left him with lifelong asthma. While I was researching in the usual way I do, I’d also heard that chlorine can trigger asthma attacks or allergic reactions, especially when there is organic material in the pool (e.g. sweat).  However, it wasn’t until September that I stumbled upon Brian’s autopsy report, so until that point, I’d had little to no idea that the coroner ruled out an asthma attack. Even then, I’d already been hearing my fair share of complaints that the autopsy report was perfunctory, so I’d just made the assumption that the coroner had somehow missed that if it had happened that way.  

I don’t know why my early perspective started changing. I just know that the one constant was that I refused to believe that Brian was murdered (sitting through Stoned on May 31, 2019, certainly didn’t help matters). 

Throughout, I began to learn of Brian’s life story, and how he eventually found himself kicked out of the very band he brought to life. 

In short, Brian used to play in jazz clubs, and it was on April 7, 1962, that Mick Jagger and Keith Richards saw the young blonde calling himself “Elmo Lewis” play slide guitar on stage for the first time (one of the first Britons to master it, through no small amount of effort). In May 1962, Brian placed an ad for musicians in a local newspaper, and was shortly thereafter joined by Ian Stewart, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Dick Taylor, and Tony Chapman. In December 1962, Taylor was replaced by Bill Wyman, and in January 1963, Charlie Watts replaced Tony Chapman. There’s also how the band got their name, but I’d prefer to save that for another storytime. 

What I should probably talk about instead, is where the first cracks started to form in this partnership. 

See, when the Rolling Stones were on tour in October 1963, it was revealed that Brian had an arrangement with the financial advisor, Eric Easton, which basically stated that Brian, as leader of the group, would receive five pounds more than everyone else (this equates to $137.30 today). Everyone else, who was under the impression that they were all earning the same amount of money from each gig, was kind of pissed about it, and maybe rightfully so. However, I don’t see why this should be enough for Mick and Keith to uphold a fifty-six-year-long grudge that includes what is essentially damnatio memoriae, but I guess that’s their business. But keep in mind, Bill Wyman has since stated that, at that time, they were earning 193 pounds per week at this point (roughly $1,963.75 in today’s money). That’s only seven percent of the band’s total income at that point. It still seems like a stupid reason to me for Mick and Keith to still be getting on Brian’s case for something like that fifty-six years later (and before anyone says anything, yes, I know there’s more to it than that, but it’s stupid that it all started with five pounds).  

Going back to my personal search for answers for a moment or two, it was now June 2019, and I was also starting to look into the murder theory, if only for posterity. I remember vividly being on a trip to France and accidentally convincing one of the girls on the trip that Brian had been murdered when I was telling her about him. 

Erm... whoops. 

Even so, in that one brief moment, I allowed myself to entertain that possibility. After all, most of the sources I was reading at that point were all saying that Brian’s death had probably been manslaughter, if not murder, and what was definitely consistent was that the witness reports weren’t consistent, and it just seemed easier to believe that. After all, Brian’s death was suspicious enough, so why not?

Easier...

It only took a day or two for me to remind myself why I had refused to believe it for this long: because of my regrets in believing Kurt had been murdered, and because I no longer wanted to take the easy route. 

If I was going to say Brian was murdered, without a shred of doubt, I had to do more research. 

And now for part two of Brian’s Jones’ slow decline: his relationship with Anita Pallenberg and the subsequent fallout from it. Now, Brian and Anita met on September 14, 1965 (my grandmother’s seventh birthday) after a Rolling Stones concert in Munich. The two apparently found an instant connection, thanks to Brian’s ability to speak German (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5N-O8_eB34). However, the relationship afterwards was very much mutually abusive. Keith said in his autobiography that he would sometimes see Brian with a black eye, and in September 1966, Brian broke his wrist. The “official” story was that Brian broke his wrist in a climbing accident, but other stories suggested that he instead broke his hand during an argument with her when he hit his hand against a metal window frame (though in one more salacious telling I heard, he broke his hand on her face, which doesn’t sound entirely possible to me). 

Meanwhile, he did write and perform the soundtrack for her movie, Mord Und Totschlag (A Degree of Murder), which gives us a rare glimpse into Brian’s extraordinary musical talent and genius. That was probably the only good thing that came out of all this. 

Then of course, in 1967, Keith’s home, Redlands, was busted, and the Glimmer Twins were charged with various drug offenses. Their lawyers recommended they should get out of the country for a while, so Mick, Keith, Brian, and Anita traveled down to Morocco for a little while. However, in Toulouse, France, Brian became ill with pneumonia, and spent the next few days in the hospital. 

Meanwhile, as Brian was celebrating his 25th birthday in the hospital, Anita and Keith went on ahead of him, and they began seeing each other behind Brian’s back. When Brian was finally able to join the group, he surely noticed the newfound chemistry between Keith and Anita, especially considering Keith wasn’t very confident around the ladies at this point in time. He knew he was losing Anita, and apparently, he welcomed the confrontation. In mid-March, 1967, he paid for the services of two “Berber whores,” and when Anita returned to the hotel room, he told her to join them in a foursome. Stories vary as to what happened next, what is typically a constant in this story is that she refused. According to Keith, Brian started throwing food at her (apparently, in a fight sometime around then, Anita had broken two of Brian’s ribs and one of his fingers), and she fled out of fear and humiliation. Bill, in his book Stone Alone, alleged that Brian beat her savagely, to the point where she was in fear of her own life. The abysmal movie Stoned just claimed he sexually assaulted her (which, yeah, I don’t believe happened). Whatever happened that night (lord knows, Brian can’t speak for himself), Anita fled to Keith’s room, where he convinced her to leave with him, basically giving her the “You deserve better” speech and saying that Brian might try to kill her if she stayed with him (which also doesn’t seem likely to me, even being fully aware of Brian’s violent streak). 

In either case, the next day, Mick, Keith, and Anita all left Morocco, leaving Brian stranded there for the next two days. Several years after his death, his own father would claim that Anita was the one who broke Brian’s heart and sent him into a fatal downward spiral, but in Paul Trynka’s book, those who knew Brian like Linda Lawrence (mother of Brian’s fourth child) and Stanislaus “Stash” Klossowski (friend of the Stones’) were of the opinion that it had rather been Mick and Keith’s betrayal that had sent Brian into that deadly spiral. 

Personally, I’d say it’s a toss-up

In either case, Brian’s drug and alcohol abuse worsened. 

Meanwhile, some fifty-two years later, it was July 2019. The fiftieth anniversary of Brian’s death had come and gone, and as my first (emotionally abusive) relationship was reaching a long-overdue close, I decided to get Stone Alone in the mail. Naturally, I had a few reasons for being a bit skeptical, not the least of which included the fact that Bill had dated a thirteen-year-old when he was forty-seven (EW), but still, I had to know what he said about Brian, so I decided to get it anyway. As I was flipping through the pages once it’d arrived, I found the account of Brian’s second child, a daughter whom Bill called “Carol.” 

I’d probably heard about how she’d been diagnosed with temporal lobe epilepsy once or twice in the past, but for some reason, I’d refused to consider it. Reading about it this night, something clicked. Thanks to the way Bill explained, it, it seemed plausible enough that, somehow, Brian had never been diagnosed with epilepsy. After all, it can be hereditary, and mental health wasn’t understood very well back then. 

That brings me to major theory #2: Brian had a seizure in the pool the night he drowned, and given that he was alone when he died, this seemed the most likely explanation. 

After all, Brian had punctate hemorrhages in his brain when he drowned. It made sense to me, as Brian must’ve been thrashing around quite a bit in his last few moments alive (punctate hemorrhages are typically found in shaken baby syndrome)

It seemed to me at that time that I finally had an explanation for what happened to Brian Jones, but naturally, I wasn’t done with the search yet. 

Naturally, with everything I read, the search for answers continued on, even though I thought I’d had it all figured out. 

I was trying to write about it for a post I made on Amino, and as I was trying to provide some facts, I remembered that I’d found Brian’s toxicology report not long before then. Looking at it now, I observed the fact that the coroner said that the 1720 micro gms of an amphetamine-like substance found in Brian’s body was likely because of prescription Mandrax. 

Mandrax was the brand name for quaaludes. 

This brings me into major reason #3 for Brian’s decline: his own drug arrests and convictions. I explained this more in another post (https://artistjojo1228.tumblr.com/post/188166689760/rock-and-roll-storytime-6-the-rolling-stones), but I’ll give the skivvy anyway. On May 10, 1967, just as Mick and Keith were being formally charged with drug possession, Brian’s home was raided by police. Although he’d cleaned the place up, police still managed to find a bit of cannabis, and Brian and Stash were arrested. On October 30, 1967, Brian was convicted of cannabis possession and allowing his home to be used for the smoking of cannabis, and was sentenced to a grand total of 12 months in prison and a fine. Apparently, during his night at Wormwood Scrubs, the guards taunted Brian, threatening to cut off his long, blonde locks, which left him quite shaken. He appealed his case, and on December 12, Brian’s sentence was reduced to three years’ probation. 

However, not long after, on May 21, 1968, Brian’s home was raided again, and once more, police found drugs, even though some sources state that Brian was so paranoid about drugs by now, that he wouldn’t even allow friends over if they had so much as prescription pills on them. Brian was found guilty for the second time, but the judge took pity on him, and only fined him, also giving him a stern warning to not end up in court again. 

Once again, in the year 2019, it was September now. I was just starting college, and trying to survive my first semester (not easy when you’re a chronic procrastinator), and one night, while I was browsing the internet, I found Brian’s autopsy report. 

Morbid fact about me, this was far from my first time reading through death certificates and autopsy reports of celebrities. Also, I’d developed a sort of obsession with medicine after Anton Yelchin’s death (to the point where I was considering being a nurse for a while), so I was familiar with the medical jargon used by now. 

So, here we are, major theory #3 and the most likely scenario in this case: Brian, trying to get clean, had relapsed on the sleeping pills he’d been prescribed, and had become incapacitated at some point during the night. 

This wasn’t the catalyst for me believing this, but it most certainly reinforced my theories. 

As I stated earlier, quaaludes were once sold under the brand name Mandrax, and had been prescribed for such things as insomnia and anxiety, both of which Brian likely would’ve had after facing the threat of prison twice. This was also before anyone realized just how addictive quaaludes can be, so there is no doubt that Brian probably relapsed, and took one or several too many sleeping pills that night. 

And now, reason #4 for Brian’s firing from the Stones: his increasingly lacking contributions to their music. 

As time passed, Brian stopped showing up to recording sessions, and when he did show up, he was usually intoxicated to the point where he was unable to contribute. In an interview years later, Mick said that one of Brian’s last major contributions to the Stones’ music was the slide guitar on “No Expectations” from Beggars’ Banquet. It got to the point where, on Let It Bleed, Brian only played on two songs: congas on “Midnight Rambler” and autoharp on “You’ve Got the Silver”.

On neither of those songs does he contain the enormous presence he once had over the Stones’ music. 

I can’t really say why Brian stopped contributing. 

What I can say is what the final nail in the coffin was: Brian’s inability to get a work visa in the United States. 

See, by the summer of 1969, the Stones were planning on going on tour again, but as time passed, it became increasingly obvious that Brian would be unlikely to get a work visa in the United States due to his past drug convictions. 

Even then, Brian just hadn’t been in the studio long enough or sober enough to learn any of the new songs. 

At the suggestion of Ian Stewart (himself demoted unfairly from the Rolling Stones by Andrew Oldham in 1963), Mick and Keith decided they needed a new guitarist (Bill and Charlie had no part in the decision itself). By May 31, 1969, 20-year-old Mick Taylor, formerly of John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, was starting to record with the band. That just left it up to Mick and Keith to resolve the issue with Brian. On June 8, they went over to Brian’s home at Cotchford Farm in Hartfield, Sussex, and told him that he was being fired, bringing Charlie along in case a fight broke out. 

According to some sources, Brian had been expecting this would happen, and agreed to leave the band in either a temporary or permanent split. Mick and Keith left the press statement up to Brian, and possibly to save face, he made it appear as if he’d left the band on his own terms. 

I shared the statement in my post about the Altamont fiasco (https://artistjojo1228.tumblr.com/post/188181237510/rock-and-roll-storytime-8-motherfing-altamont), but I’ll write it out again for those of you who don’t want to go post-hunting: “I no longer see eye to eye with the others over the discs we are cutting. We no longer communicate musically. The Stones’ music is not to my taste any more. The work of Mick and Keith has progressed at a tangent, at least to my way of thinking. I have a desire to play my own brand of music rather than that of others, no matter how much I appreciate their musical concepts. We had a friendly meeting and agreed that an amicable termination, temporary or permanent, was the only answer. The only solution was to go our separate ways, but we shall still remain friends. I love those fellows.”

At the same time, Mick and Keith also released a press statement on the matter, also saying that Brian had left the band, not that he was fired. 

There are so many questions in my mind surrounding what Brian was doing in the last month of his life. Would he really have started another band, or was he, according some who saw him at that time, musically spent? Did Mick and Keith really agree to give Brian a sort of retirement pension, or was that just to tide him over? (Sadly I wouldn’t put it past them). Was he taking a break from music or was he going into an early retirement?

And most important to me, was he really trying to kick the drugs, like so many have said?

So many questions that we’ll never have a proper answer for. 

The only thing that is certain, is that at around midnight on July 3, 1969, Brian Jones was found motionless at the bottom of his swimming pool. 

I guess I’d better back up a bit, and explain the chain of events leading up to that moment. 

Wednesday, July 2, 1969, featured hot, humid air full of pollen, which affected Brian severely, given his asthma. Throughout the day, he was with Anna Wohlin, his Swedish girlfriend, Janet Lawson, a nurse, and Frank Thorogood, a builder who’d been doing work on Brian’s property. It is worth noting that there are many discrepancies between the witness accounts of what happened, up to and including whether or not the parties involved had been drinking (and if so, how much), whether or not the parties involved watched TV, and even who found Brian, lifeless in the pool, and who pulled him out. The most commonly agreed upon version of events was that Brian and Frank decided to go swimming. Anna was reluctant, but was somehow persuaded. Janet, meanwhile, decided to stay out of the pool. After a while, Anna left Brian and Frank there. When Janet last saw Brian, he asked her to grab one of his inhalers, as he was apparently having difficulty breathing. At some point, Frank also left the pool. When Janet returned some time later, she found him at the bottom of the pool, facedown and motionless. Apparently, she ran off to get help (despite being a registered nurse), and eventually, Anna, Frank, and Janet (or at least two of them) managed to pull Brian out of the pool and began resuscitative efforts. Anna later claimed that she felt Brian’s hand briefly grip hers, but to Janet and Frank, he was very clearly dead. Paramedics arrived soon after, and Brian was pronounced dead after midnight on July 3, 1969. 

Based on the small amounts of drugs and alcohol found in Brian’s system at the time of his death, as well as the fact that his heart and liver had been enlarged by substance abuse, his death was ruled as misadventure. 

Naturally, as it would seem whenever someone dies young, conspiracy theories also began to circulate not long after. To make this somewhat easier on myself, I’m just going to start listing some of the theories that have popped up in regards to Brian’s death (note: much of this will be taken from Brian Jones: The Making of the Rolling Stones). 

The most popular of the conspiracy theories states that Brian (who was noted as having mistrusted Frank Thorogood) fired the builder at some point in the 48 hours preceding his death (though, if that were the case, why would he invite him back for a pool party?). After Janet ran off to get Brian’s inhaler, Frank, either in a purposeful act or a bout of horseplay gone wrong, drowned Brian. Not helping Frank’s case is that Tom Keylock alleged that he heard Frank confess to the murder on his deathbed (his daughter has since denied this). Frank’s daughter, Jan Bell, did also claim that her father witnessed an argument between Brian, Mick, and Keith over ownership of the name “Rolling Stones”, during which Keith pulled a knife on Brian (if this did happen, it was likely earlier in the year). Also not helping matters is that after Frank’s death in 1994, Janet and Anna also made their beliefs that Frank was responsible for Brian’s death known (though one of Anna’s friends has since stated that she didn’t start believing Brian had been murdered until later in life). In 2005, this version of events was turned into the movie Stoned, and for those of you who may not have seen my other posts on the subject, I found this movie quite abysmal (��So, I guess you could say this movie... DROWNED on arrival?”)

In 1983, the notion that Brian was murdered first became popularized with Nicholas Fitzgerald’s book Brian Jones: The Inside Story of the Original Rolling Stone. In it, Fitzgerald claimed that Brian had been intending on starting a band with the likes of John Lennon and Jimi Hendrix (those close to Jimi at the time have since dismissed this), and that he and another friend witnessed three men participating in Brian’s murder, and that he had been threatened by someone (likely Keylock) into silence. Most likely, these allegations were used to promote his book, because, you know, there was a real chance for a while that he could’ve been charged with being an accessory to murder after the fact. 

A. E. Hotchner in his book Blown Away: The Rolling Stones and the Death of the Sixties claimed that another two witnesses had seen Brian murdered at a party. It is notable that this story claims that Linda Lawrence had been a witness, and that in the years since, one of the witnesses recanted his testimony as “nonsense.”

Another man, David Gibson, claimed that he had been fitting carpets at Cotchford Farm, and that on the day of the murder, Brian and Anna had been away for most of the day, and when they returned, Brian begged him not to leave. He alleged that Tom Keylock had Brian murdered, and that Princess Margaret had been at Cotchford Farm. Those who believe this will likely also believe that Gibson never came forward because of threats and murder attempts. 

Laura Jackson’s book, Brian Jones, The Untold Life and Mysterious Death of a Rock Legend, also claimed that Brian had been murdered, and this time added the detail that Frank had drugged Brian with a mysterious substance that stumped even seasoned toxicologists, thereby allowing him to hold Brian’s head under the water with no visible signs of a struggle. I don’t know, if it weren’t for those last couple chapters, I’d probably have an easier time recommending this to Brian Jones fans, because I thought it was pretty enjoyable otherwise. 

Geoffrey Giuliano’s book, Paint It Black, alleged that a random guy named “Joe” held Brian’s head underwater for shits and giggles. Last time I checked, that’s not really something people do for shits and giggles. Also, the book claimed that Frank had fled the scene shortly after Brian’s death, despite Frank being noted at the scene when police and paramedics arrived at the scene at 12:10 AM the morning of Brian’s death. 

In 2009, Sam Cutler claimed that private detectives hired by Allen Klein found that Tom Keylock was responsible, citing his attempts to blame Frank, his theft of some of Brian’s belongings, and the fact that he apparently told Janet to conceal the fact that she was his girlfriend at the time. However, in 2013, he expressed doubts as to whether it existed. Seems safe for me to say that this was all a big hoax. 

In general, several conspiracies center around Tom Keylock. The big problem with this though, is that Tom was in London at Olympic Studios on the night Brian died. Still, I think it is safe to say that he probably stole some of Brian’s belongings after he died, at the very least. 

I guess it’s high time I explain one of the big reasons why I always stopped myself from going down that road of believing Brian was murdered (without proper evidence). If Brian was really murdered, and if people did, indeed, witness it, then why the hell didn’t anyone say anything before 1983? I know, I know, some of the theories outright say that the people involved were threatened into silence (Anna claims she was spirited back to Sweden soon after Brian’s death), but even so, I don’t think the people making such threats would’ve had enough sway or power to actually pull off this sort of conspiracy. 

With that in mind, I believe that Brian had an overdose on sleeping pills the night he died, maybe suffering a seizure as well, either from his possible epilepsy and/or as a side-effect of taking Mandrax. Of course, unless Brian is exhumed and a second toxicology report is drawn up that can maybe confirm what was in his system on that fateful night (which is unlikely, due to both the length of time and lack of interest in the case beyond occasional murder theories), there is no way for me to confirm this theory for sure. Besides, either way, there is no way to prove whether he had epilepsy or not. Whilst it is what I believe happened, and does line up with the original verdict of misadventure, I have to keep in mind at the end of the day that this is just me speculating. 

Even so, the story of Brian Jones is one that is fraught with betrayal, hubris, and a path filled with perfectly preventable errors. It’s haunting to think what might have happened if Mick and Keith had been nicer to Brian (or at the very least spoke a bit more praise about him after his death rather than just shit-talk him all the time), or if the effects of drugs had been better understood, or if Brian hadn’t stopped contributing to the Stones’ music, or if someone had been with Brian in the pool when he became incapacitated. 

I’ll be honest, I think the reason I keep coming back to Brian’s story is because of how conflicting his life as a whole was. I’ve seen his life inspire equal parts idolization and vilification, even within myself. 

Because even if Mick and Keith would rather forget, it is my honest belief that more people will continue to find out about Brian, and my hope that they actually take the time to learn about him. 

Sources/Further Readings: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3tFfzTzOwQ8&t=4s https://asthma.net/living/swimming-pools-triggers/ Stone Alone by Bill Wyman Life by Keith Richards Brian Jones: The Making of the Rolling Stones by Paul Trynka Up and Down With the Rolling Stones by Tony Sanchez https://clearcomfort.com/why-asthma-allergy-sufferers-should-avoid-chlorine-pools/ http://timeisonourside.com/chron1967.html http://timeisonourside.com/chron1969.html Brian Jones, The Untold Life and Mysterious Death of a Rock Legend by Laura Jackson https://people.com/music/anita-pallenberg-rolling-stones-keith-richards-brian-jones-love-triangle/ https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-lists/the-27-club-a-brief-history-17853/ https://ultimateclassicrock.com/brian-jones-found-dead/ https://ultimateclassicrock.com/brian-jones-murdered/ https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/just-why-was-brian-jones-so-important-to-the-rolling-stones/ https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/obituary-brian-jones-189861/ https://www.denofgeek.com/us/culture/music/281978/the-rolling-stones-and-the-mystery-of-brian-jones-death https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/brian-jones-sympathy-for-the-devil-182761/ https://www.mojo4music.com/articles/15989/brian-jones-it-was-murder http://davidcomfort.org/brian-jones/

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19. Part 2

“I miss you too, are you going out or staying in?” I said speaking to Robyn, I am just getting out of bed “well I am just going out with some of the team, just a little get together. Is Mel there? Did you not see the pictures? There is a picture on Instagram and some stupid page and Daily fucking Mail made out you was meeting another woman, there is pictures of you hugging Mel. I was so angry, I commented saying that is my best friend dumb ass” laughing out a loud “they stupid as fuck, I ain’t even get to catch up with that. We went to the studio, Mel came along and she is now. I think making food, seeing as you are there” I said in annoyance “you know I had to come here, I just needed to get away from the home” sighing out “yeah but you left me here, we had things to talk about. Listen, I don’t want to argue just have a good night” we are in different countries and anything could happen “I just need to free my mind Chris, didn’t you want this?” Robyn questioned “I want you happy but I can’t do that can I, I love you Robyn just be good” let me get off this phone “I love you too Chris, believe me when I say that I miss you” licking my lips breathing out, I miss Robyn so much and she didn’t need to go. I have so much to say to her “are you going to put this phone down first?” Robyn said in a whisper “who put the phone down first last night? You need to do it first this time” Robyn sighed out “fine, I miss your face. Bye” the phone disconnected, things can be so difficult.

Mel is staying over at the crib and honestly I enjoy the company she is cool people’s, we get on and she cooks. We just been chilling, went to the studio and she heard my new album which I am blessed that she loves. I think I am ready to release it now but I need to go London first “morning” Mel said smiling at me “I made pancakes and you came down just in time” watching Mel hold the two plates “I was going to knock on your bedroom door but I heard you was talking so I started making food��� puling the dining table chair back “yeah, Robyn is just I don’t know but thank you for this. You didn’t have too, also I wanted to ask” shuffling the chair in “you are staying in LA right?” pouring the OJ out of the bottle “yeah I am” placing the bottle down “you can stay here, I will tell you all the codes. Stay here” this looks so nice “awww but no, I can’t. I am staying at Jen’ for a while” picking up the knife and fork “but I want you too” I am trying to be a good friend here.

Mel can cook, these women from Barbados can cook “are you nervous about seeing Mijo? He will be coming soon” sitting back on the chair “kind of but I expect the worst so it’s ok, he is going to say get rid of the baby but I am not doing it Chris. I don’t want money from him, I am just letting him know” she shrugged “yeah, I am just thinking. Once I know what Robyn is like, if I can control her with what she is like. I will say it, unless you want too?” I pointed at Mel “honestly, I am more scared to tell my best friend, she is going to be angry, hurt, upset. I feel so sad for her because she was waiting for the perfect man, no disrespect to you Chris but you took your time. You took so long and her time was going, she waited and waited. I goes to her Adam will do anything for you, try for a baby but she wouldn’t. I think deep down she knew she wouldn’t be with him long enough, for someone to have everything. Robyn feels she missed the blessing, remember what I said to you. Emotions, don’t shy away from it. Don’t bury it, don’t let Rihanna fool you. You both need to cry it out, she may be numb to the situation but when you are there she will break very slowly” I need to remember this.

Watching John Wick, I have seen this movie but Mel has never seen it and I can’t beileve she hasn’t. Looking over at Mel “what are those!” she spat, looking down at my feet “this nigga is wearing Rihanna’ slides, look at those toes” busting out laughing hiding behind the pillow “ok, I am done” she ain’t shit “why are you airing me out for?” moving the pillow back and she is still recording me, throwing the pillow and it hit the phone out of her hand “negro, I am posting this now. Those pink slides suit you” resting my head back smiling “I can barely fit my foot in it, and they was just there so I wore them, and now you are laughing at me” hearing the buzzer go off “you won’t be smiling now” she threw the pillow back to me as I got up from the couch, kicking Robyn’ slides off of my feet “look at this” Mel laughed turning her phone to me, she legit posted it “In nothing but your slides on, Chris Brown loving his pink slides” I read the caption out loud “I got you, I swear” I pointed at Mel shaking my head at her, I was so calm and she ruined it for nothing “you been recording me all that time and laughing” I didn’t even notice that shit at all.

Dapping Mijo “good coming out bro” pushing the door close “well I was gong to take Maleah to ballet but you said you needed me to come, if this is something stupid” pressing my home button on my phone, my bodyguards will be here soon. I need to leave for London “yeah well I don’t have much time” making my way to the living area “Mel, Mijo. Mijo, Mel. Say hi friends” walking around the couch “Hi Mel” Mijo said “hi, Barry” sitting down on the couch, Mijo sat across from Mel “who was wearing the slides? Rihanna here?” shaking my head “she is in London still, Mel is here though. I am not going to just sit here and pretend like shit is cool so Mel, I don’t have the time to just sit here. I need to pack for London” I don’t want to be sat here and we all talking about random shit “I am pregnant” my eyes bulged out, see I didn’t think she would have just blurted it out. I think it would have been nice with a little introduction “Rihanna pregnant?” Mijo said, dragging my eyes up to Mijo “no homie, she is not pregnant but Mel is and clearly your fat ass is the father. I fucking told you nigga, I fucking said to you stop fucking with her. She is family” I am so angry at Mijo, he kept going back too.

Mijo is not saying a word “least you got four kids now, more then what I got. Congratulations” I want this over with “it’s not even mine” Mijo said, he really got the nerve to say it “yeah you right, it’s the fucking ghost I had sex with in that hotel room. Mijo it is yours but I don’t care, I don’t want your money and I don’t even want you, I will raise this baby on my own. I am actually very happy, you gave my life a new meaning” putting my head down, I wish Robyn was pregnant. Mel is so full of life, she really has a new meaning of life “nah, I can’t even beileve this. This is bullshit, no fucking way you are pregnant” Mijo pointed “new record for you bro, two women” Mijo rubbed his hands together “you can’t even get one pregnant” Mijo said aloud, he stared at me in shock like he wasn’t supposed to say those words “that was low you piece shit nigga” Mel spat, clenching my fist but he is not worth it “you sticking up for her, I didn’t mean it” I am not going to fight him “bye Mijo, get out of my crib. You disrespected me and my wife and the baby she lost” my voice broke “your life is in shambles, this is on you. Fuck you…. Bro” I can’t believe he would say that shit, like why would you even say that.

I dropped Mel off with Jen, I am still upset about what Mijo said. He is supposed to be my brother and he said that, I feel so disrespected. I am way more then hurt, I couldn’t even hit him because he shocked me. I am hoping to have a nice ass sleep before I get to London. Mel is going to let me know where Robyn will be so I can just meet my wife, resting my head back on the seat “you look stressed as fuck” Cass said across me “more upset then anything, can’t even trust your own family” pulling my hood over my head, I still need to figure out how to talk about it. Maybe I should bring up the subject, I will start the conversation off and then hopefully it will start something. My phone started ringing on the table, looking over at the caller I.D but it is Robyn. Crossing my arms across my chest resting my head back, let me sleep for a while before we get there.

I feel like shit right now, it’s morning here but yet it was just turning night in LA. I hate this time difference shit, Mel has done her deed though. Robyn is in a meeting with her peers but this meeting is with Harvey Nichols, I never know what she is doing. Maybe it’s clothes, or maybe it is make up, I have no idea “it’s this the place” I pointed at the building, the car came to a halt outside “yes it is” there is a bunch of fans here “alright, pay him” I said to Cass “also I need to leave my stuff in this car, can you stay around until I come back? I will pay” the white guy turned in his seat “I will do as you please” Cass got out of the front seat “thank you, I will be keeping Frank behind. You can sit in the car” I won’t be leaving my things just here, I have thousands of dollars worth of jewellery in that trunk. Cass opened my car door, getting out of the car “oh my god, it’s Chris fucking Brown” the fans screamed, Cass placed his arm on my shoulder as we walked, waving at the fans as I walked by.

The receptionist stared at me all wide eyed “Mr Brown” she looks speechless “yeah, I come to see my wife, which room?” she got up from the chair “erm, I must let them know” she said “uh no, just tell me the room. That is my wife so I can go in there, I will say you was on a break. Just tell me” she smiled at me “I am such a big fan oh god, if you go down the hall. Pass every room and the end room she is there” smiling at the white lady “thank you” staring at her name tag “Lauren, I will take a picture with you when I come back” she is blushing mad hard, walking by her “stay here” I can’t take his big ass with me, I know her team won’t be happy. I always side track Robyn but I don’t care, staring into every room as I walked by them all. Seeing the last room , she will be in there. Taking in a deep breath pushing the door open, the chatter of people quietened so quick. Staring at the people’ face and then noticing Yusef “Chris” Robyn spat all shocked getting up from her seat, pushing her seat back “Oh my god, what are you doing here? I mean what” she I said half shocked, walking over to me “I came for you” Robyn is in total shock “talk amongst yourselves” Robyn said before looking at me “I am in shock” placing my hands over her cheeks, lowering my head and pressing a kiss to her lips “I missed you” moving my hands “come in, sit with me. Help me make decisions” Robyn grabbed my wrist pulling me in, Robyn’ photographer smiled at me, this is so awkward for me.

I have no idea what is happening, I am just going to sit back and agree “I want a section in the store just for my make up, I am giving Harvey Nichols exclusives. Nobody else will have it” catching Jay Brown looking at me but he turned his head away “I have bought testers for you all” I have missed my wife so much, Robyn looked to me “so good to see you” she said in a whisper “same, I am so tired. I don’t even know where I am” Robyn touched my leg “I am nearly done” placing my hand over Robyn’ “what do you think?” Jay Brown asked them “what you should be saying is when will you sign the contract, you telling me Rihanna’ name does not sell? If you don’t wish to have it then I know Selfridges will, ain’t this what y’all want? Sales, she gave you the testers now ask her to sign the contract with the section in the store she wants” the executives stared at me in shock “Robyn has a meeting with Selfridges next so she will be in touh with you” I am selling my wife, getting up from the seat. Robyn looked up at me “yes I do have a meeting with Selfridges” Robyn agreed, I don’t know if she has but it’s a damn lie I think. I am bored of hearing this back and forth shit, it’s so tedious “no, we want it. I accept it. We will give the section and everything you want” smiling down at Robyn “under one condition, exclusive lipsticks just for us? We want them made just for Harvey stores” Robyn nodded her head “I agree” I am glad that lie worked.

I can tell they have been having long nights here, drinking too “don’t your ex live down the road from this hotel” Robyn picked up the empty wine glass from the side of her bed “he does, my ex. Which is in the past” pressing my hair down “so is everyone sharing this room? Well the top floor?” following Robyn to the kitchen area “yes we are, so anyways. What is this? Why are you here? Mel lied to me, she told you” nodding my head “she did” don’t shy away from it, I think I should just say it “I came to support you, to hug you” Robyn placed the wine glass down on the side “I was coming back home” she said lowly “was you? I feel you hate me, don’t speak. Let me just speak on this. You left for London and it was my bad for letting you go and let you leave, you looked at me and cried. You didn’t let me hold you or even speak to you, you saying I don’t get upset about this shit but I do. Just because I am a man not going through or don’t mean I do not care. Ok I didn’t want a child because I didn’t know about life, I didn’t know what was happening about us. I am scared to be a father, no doubt about it I was. I promise you now I wanted you to be pregnant more than ever, when I saw they was negative I was hurting but we just deal with it differently. And when you said about the termination I don’t really speak on such things but I will admit that it was wrong but we was so young, I do think about it. I think how that child would be what ten going on eleven but you see the shit that happened between us, it was no time to bring a child into that. We are ready now but you need forgive yourself” Robyn shook her head rubbing her arm with her hand sobbing out “I can’t” walking over to Robyn.

Grabbing a hold of Robyn’ hands “baby, this was all of our decision not just yours. I am to blame too and I am so sorry for what I said about Mijo, I am so sorry for letting you down when you was waiting for me all that time. I am so sorry I didn’t show you how much I am hurt, you didn’t just lose a child but so did I. We both terminated that baby and we both lost another baby” Robyn moved her hands away from my hands and fell into my arms crying “this hurts so much” Robyn cried out, holding Robyn close closing my eyes as tears fell from my eyes. I didn’t hold her like I should have, I didn’t show emotion to her “I am hurting too Robyn, I promise you that I will do everything we can. It won’t bring back little MaxPower” that just came to mind, I did actually name that child. Robyn laughed but then sniffled “you was so stupid, we was happy but then the adults got involved and then we realised we would be stuck but I wish we was. I told you I was pregnant and you took is so well and called it MaxPower, but then the very same night you went to the club. You wasn’t around for the termination, I was so alone but I got over it. I went on tour, and that was it” wiping my face with my hand “I was stupid, the child would have been stuck with two childish parents. I wasn’t ready but I promise you Robyn when I lay there I do think of it. I don’t say shit because that is me. You my wife, I want you to carry my seed. My future king or queen. I want that so I don’t want you to think I am heartless because I am not and I don’t want you to be blaming yourself, listen to me when I say this” placing my hands on her shoulders “this was never your fault, we did it together. We going to heal together, I am staying here for you” hugging Robyn.

[johnny-and-dora]

oh, what a beautiful morning

jake and amy's egg-cellent morning adventure - or the one where jake falls asleep to the sound of amy sifiting through paperwork and wakes up to the sound of her making him breakfast, much to his great amusement and only minor heartbreak. (early season 2 fluff) read on ao3

The first time Jake Peralta wakes up in Amy Santiago’s apartment, he wakes up to sunlight streaming through floral pattern curtains, a mildly concerning burning smell heavily permeating the air, and a string of loud expletives coming from the kitchen.

For a second, as his vaguely familiar surroundings swim before him, he thinks he could be back home - he’s lost count of the number of times his mom has started their mornings together by burning every breakfast item imaginable, as if she’s got some kind of arsonist agenda he should probably arrest her for (although, to be fair, it was a blessing in disguise when she accidentally singed off his ponytail in high school).

But then his brain finally shifts into gear and, with a jolt, he realises that it’s Amy’s voice fiercely arguing with various kitchen utensils next door. It’s Amy’s usually delicately folded guest blanket that is haphazardly yet somehow also carefully draped over him - and it’s Amy’s couch that he’s presumably been sprawled all over since he fell asleep midway through working that seemingly impossible case with her last night.

The case. Right. Definitely the only reason he would ever want to wake up in Amy Santiago’s apartment to Amy Santiago making him breakfast. After they spent the night together working a case, because they are respectful and professional police colleagues and will never be anything more.

Not that he’s ever thought about being more, obviously, right? Not like it’s basically consumed every waking thought he’s had ever since that stupid bet, every second of being undercover, every weird moment they’ve shared since he came back. Not at all.

He gets up, immediately feeling like a jerk for being here in the first place - shoving down a pang of guilt for so rudely taking up her couch like that and invading her privacy. She should have woken him up and let him shuffle back to his lumpy mattress and mail tub in peace; now she’s making him breakfast and he’s inevitably going to find some way to make it awkward for them for the rest of the day. Great.

Between the brick wall he’s hit this week trying to crack this case (literally, one of his perps actually threw him against a brick wall the other day) and...other things on his mind, he’s been basically narcoleptic for the past few days and now – well, now, Amy’s going to be scrubbing the Jake off of everything in her living room for weeks.

At least he hasn’t stained or broken anything – yet.

He thinks about leaving quietly, not wanting to intrude any further – but she draws him to the kitchen anyway, because he woke up in Amy Santiago’s apartment, and he’s going to enjoy every second he can get of her shouting match with her stove before she can notice him.

And right, okay, cool, Amy is still just as beautiful as usual when she’s wearing sweatpants and an old NYPD t-shirt, that’s cool. That’s fine.

And, of course, she’s still just as breathtaking when she’s becoming increasingly frustrated with the pan of char-grilled scrambled eggs she’s currently close to either arresting or unceremoniously flinging (he theorises, making a mental note not to piss her off so much that he has to peel the great egg monstrosity off of his face later) but that’s fine. No big deal. He can deal with that.

He has to deal with that. There’s no alternative to solving this mess he’s gotten himself into with this dumb crush. That’s all it can be - she’s with Teddy, and they’re probably going to get married and have loads of nerd children and live happily ever after. Even if she wasn’t, why would she ever want to be with him?

But for now, just for this one tiny barely significant moment, he indulges himself in a stare he can’t normally risk with Charles lurking around; leaning comfortably against the doorframe, unashamedly drinking every inch of her in.

Just for one moment.

And then he ashamedly forces himself to look away, because that’s creepy and unprofessional and definitely not something just a police colleague should ever do. As beautiful and chaotic Amy is at – he checks his watch – 7:30 in the morning (an ungodly hour, might he add) he finally decides to clear his throat, stepping into the kitchen.

“Are you...making me breakfast?”

She jumps slightly at the sound of his voice, whipping around and wielding a frying pan with such force and anger it might as well be a lightsaber. For a fraction of second Jake’s genuinely worried she might split him in half before he starts to laugh and she relaxes slightly, letting her weapon drop to her side as she casually tries (and fails) to look nonchalant, leaning back against her kitchen counter.

“No! What? Maybe...I, erm, felt bad for leaving you on the couch.” “Awww, Ames – was I just too adorable that you couldn’t bear to wake me up?” “No, I just didn’t want to go anywhere near your drool.”

“Oh, ew. Gross.” Jake runs a hand through his hair, suddenly achingly aware of how much of a mess he must look – at the same time as Amy realises she’s still wearing her pyjamas and her cheeks flush a light shade of pink.

So really, he’s nailing the whole not making it awkward thing. Score.

“Sorry for...umm. Yeah. Falling asleep. Didn’t mean to intrude.” “Oh, it’s fine. You were kinda out cold and I figured you could use the rest. This case has been kicking our ass.”

“Yeah. So, anyway, what did these eggs do to you to deserve this? Must be a serious felony.” Jake gestures to the pan Amy’s been wrestling with for the past ten minutes and she rolls her eyes, smiling in the way that always catches in his chest.

“Shut up, Peralta. I was trying to do something nice.” “Are you sure you don’t want me to call in Major Crimes to make this bust?” “I will force feed you this if it kills me, and it will probably kill you.” “Should I file a report for police brutality?” “I swear to God-“

“Okay, okay, I’m done.” He holds up his hands in mock defeat as she turns the stove off, wafting the air in an ineffectual attempt to get rid of the lingering smoky scent. He’s only quiet for a minute, though, before he just can’t help himself –

“Really, I think you’re an egg-ceptional cook. I’m not egg-aggerating at all.” “...I will destroy you with this frying pan.”

“C’mon, Santiago, that’s a bit egg-streme. I’m egg – “Before Jake can even finish, she’s chasing him around the kitchen, whacking him while he half laughs, half cries in pain. They both almost collapse in laughter on the tiled floor, every inhibition or awkward moment forgotten; and yeah, it hurts that maybe they’ll never be more than police colleagues in that way.

But the way his stomach aches from laughing shows that they’re definitely friends. And for this morning, that’s enough.

It’s more than enough, really.  Enough doesn’t even begin to cover how grateful he is to find someone who’ll let him sleep on their couch and make him breakfast and still enthusiastically belt him within an inch of his life with a kitchen utensil.

He’s lucky to have her. He’s way too uncomfortable with emotions to ever be able to let her know that, but he is.

“I was going to say sorry! I’m egg-sorry!” “Do you want breakfast or not, because at this point I’m more than willing to just let you starve.” “...I’ll eat the rest of the pizza if you make some coffee?”

Amy sighs and shoves her blackened amalgamation of a breakfast into the trash, wrinkling her nose in disgust as Jake helps himself to the rest of last night’s leftover pizza.

She pours herself a bowl of cereal and makes them both coffee, and it’s...nice. It’s surprisingly natural, actually, as he sits on her kitchen counter, swinging his legs back and forth and making fun of her parchment scroll length itemised shopping list tacked neatly to the fridge. Like he belongs there.

He sifts through the files that are still strewed haphazardly on the coffee table as Amy gets dressed – showing up two days in a row to work in the same clothes is pretty normal for him anyway, so he doesn’t have to worry about that. They’re both ready for work by the time Jake’s alarm normally goes off, and for once he can guarantee that this time he’s not going to be late.

He can’t wait to see the look on Holt’s face.

“Ready to go?” “Yeah. Um, thank you. For, y’know. Breakfast.”

“That’s okay.” She smiles warmly at him and he can practically feel his heart bursting out of his chest. God, he’s such an idiot. They just sort of stare at each other for a moment before her face lights up.

“Oh, by the way, sleeping beauty – I totally solved the case while you were out.” “What? No way!” “Uh huh. It was the contractor’s wife; she used two fake ID’s, a Mexican passport and the bread knife we found in the dumpster. Want to help me make the arrest?” “The wife! I knew it! Obviously I was so close, really I was just sleeping to give you a chance to –“

Her pointed look cuts him off, and she rolls her eyes as he gives her a dorky grin.

And, just for this one tiny barely significant moment, his stupid crush on Amy Santiago isn’t so overwhelmingly, well, crushing, and everything between them is so, so good.

Even if the smell of smoke around them is still lightly suffocating, and his heart still starts beating way too fast every time he looks at her, and Amy will be scrubbing the orange soda stains off of her couch for weeks.

(Of course, the next time he wakes up in Amy Santiago’s apartment it’ll be in her bed, with Amy Santiago sleeping softly beside him, and everything between them will be better than he could have ever possibly imagined.) (But he doesn’t need to know that.)

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”