#...yeah he's berry and beauty's father screw it

[lune-redd]

I think Bubbles and Mike Believe would be a cute couple

[sagesparrow394]

Turn It Off

Fandom: Sanders Sides, The Book of Mormon

Ships: Intrulogical, Logan has a little unrequited thing for Elder Price

Summary: Elder Logan Berry is not homosexual, no matter what his newly assigned mission partner, Elder Janus Ceitful, might say. Definitely not. He is a good Mormon, one of the best, and will prove it by converting the two brothers in the neighbourhood who are ‘unconvertable’. It totally won’t backfire in any way.

----------

“Do you have any idea where they’re sending you, Elder Price?”

“Well, of course we don’t really have final say over where we get sent, but I have been praying to be sent to my favourite place in the whole world...”

Logan Berry couldn’t help but stare at Elder Price, pure admiration in his eyes, as he responded, “Well, if you prayed for a location, I’m sure Heavenly Father will make it happen. You’re like the most smartest, best, most deserving Elder the centre’s ever seen...”

It was true. Logan had lived his whole life labelled as the second best. His parents had always said to him he should be more like that Elder Price. But no... Logan knew he could never compare... Elder Price was destined to do something incredible. He was just so perfect, wonderful, handso-

No! Elder Berry, this is exactly why you aren’t as good as Elder Price! Turn it off, turn it off, turn it off...

“Elders! Form a line and step forward when your name is called!”

All the Elders quickly did so, Logan feeling his heart thudding in his chest as he found himself stood beside Elder Price. Imagine if they were put together as mission companions! Logan could finally learn from him, and make his parents proud. He hardly payed attention as the other Elders were put in pairs, now daydreaming about he and Elder Price going away together...

“Elder Price!”

“Yes sir!”

Please pick me, please say me...

”Your brother will be...”

Please please please!

“Elder Cunningham!”

Logan’s heart sunk. But... wouldn’t it make sense the best two Mormons would be put together? Then they’d be an unstoppable force, converting all the people in... where was Elder Price going?

“Uganda!”

Oh. Now Logan couldn’t help but feel sorry for Price. He knew that it was the other Elder’s dream to go to Orlando. Not to mention, his mission companion didn’t exactly seem very... well... sensible and focused. 

“Elder Berry!”

Logan perked up upon hearing his name, and stepped forward, straightening his tie. “Yes, sir.”

“Your mission companion will be... Elder Ceitful!”

Logan’s shoulder’s slumped, face paling. Oh no.

Elder Janus Ceitful was... well, according to Elder Ceitful himself, he did not align himself with the Mormon faith. In fact, he despised it. He’d rant about it being ‘homophobic’ and ‘racist’ and ‘a cult’. Apparently, he was only in the church because his parents forced him to be, and if he tried to leave the faith, his parents said they’d kick him out and cut him off, leaving him homeless and near broke. He claimed that the second he had a stable job and his own place to live, he was never coming to the church again.

So, in short, he would be no help to Logan on the mission.

Just great.

“And your location is... Orlando!”

They were going to Orlando? Logan knew a lot about Orlando, as it was where Elder Price always talked about wishing to go. He felt even worse now. He was living, no, stealing Elder Price’s dream...

-

Logan was extremely close to losing it.

He was waiting in the airport at the gate for his flight. His parents had long since left after saying their goodbyes, so now he was alone.

Alone with Elder Ceitful.

“I really don’t get how you can happily go along with this shit,” the Elder in question said, flicking through his copy of the Book of Mormon. “It is the single most disgusting thing I’ve ever read - and I had a friend in high school who wrote and then forced me to read a lot of kinky shit.”

This. Logan was going to have to deal with this for two years.

“Is it because you like Kevin? Is that the only reason you go along with it, to impress him? Because, I’m sorry to tell you, but the Mormon faith isn’t that fond of the homosexual lifestyle. I don’t think that plan is going to-“

“What?! I-I do not have feelings for Elder Price!”

“Please, the way you stare at him tells me all I need to know. You have a crush.”

“I am straight! I like women, just as Heavenly Father intended...”

“Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that...”

Two. Hecking. Years.

-

Logan and Elder Ceitful had arrived in Florida, and were currently being given a tour of the local area by their District Leader and his companion. Elder Foster was very bubbly, joy seeming to never leave his light blue eyes as he pointed out all the houses around, saying which had been converted and which still needed to be. His partner, Elder Picani, was a little more subdued, but still bright and talkative. As they walked around, Elder Ceitful was barely paying attention. It didn’t matter, though, Logan was listening for the two of them, and had a notebook out, taking notes on which households needed to be converted.

As they walked around, Logan noticed something. He frowned, before looking up to his District Leader. “Elder Foster?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“You missed out Number 46. 45 has been converted, 47 hasn’t, but you didn’t tell us about 46.”

Elder Foster and Elder Picani froze, sharing grave looks, before the former responded. “They haven’t been. But we don’t talk about that house. We don’t visit it.”

“What? Why?”

“Two brothers live at that house, and they’re unconvertable,” Elder Picani said. “The first one is bad enough. He lives a very openly homosexual lifestyle, refusing to talk to us because of it. When he opens the door to us, he just says ‘sorry, I’m a lifelong gay’, before shutting the door in our faces. And the other...”

“He’s the devil incarnate,” Elder Foster finished.

“What?” Logan raised an eyebrow in confusion while Elder Ceitful’s attention was caught by the conversation.

“He’s horrible. The first time we tried to talk to him, he said ‘I’m sorry, I’m currently busy sucking Satan’s... thingy’. Except he didn’t say ‘thingy’. Since then, he’s done all sorts of horrendous things. Told horrifying stories to the Elders, shown them graphic images and videos, and other even more disgusting things. Eventually, we had no choice but to give up. I hate to admit it, but I doubt he’ll ever be able to find salvation.”

Elder Ceitful smirked. “I like the sound of this guy.”

Meanwhile, Logan’s eyes were shining. This was it. This was how he showed he was just as great, just as incredible as Elder Price. This was how he would make his parents proud.

He, Elder Logan Berry, was going to convert the unconvertable.

-

The next day, after a hearty breakfast, a warm shower, and a little rehearsing his script to himself in the mirror, Logan found himself walking up to the door of the ‘unconvertable brothers’ at house number 46. Elder Ceitful trudged behind him. “You know this is never going to work, right?”

“Shush. I want you to not say anything, alright?” Logan hissed to him. “This is very important to me, and I will not have you screw it up.”

“Sure. It’ll be more fun to watch you completely and utterly fail.”

Logan huffed, rolling his eyes, before turning to the door. He knocked, putting on a friendly joyful smile. After a few seconds, the door opened.

“Hello! My name is Elder Berry, and I would like to share with you the-”

He was interrupted by a wolf whistle. “Well, would you look at this... They’ve sent the cutest guy they have to try and tempt me to convert, have they?”

Logan’s face burned light pink, and he looked up at the man at the door. And then his face burned dark red.

The man had green eyes that shone like emeralds in the sunlight, tanned skin, brown hair that was shown to have a slight hint of red in it when the light caught it. The only exception was a silver streak dyed in his fringe. He had a moustache that curled up at the ends that, though it seemed to be something an over-the-top cartoon villain would wear, suited him perfectly. He was tall, staring down at Logan with a sort of hungry lust in his eyes. He was wearing a crop top and rather tight shorts which showed off his toned physique.

Logan swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat, the mantra he had been taught since he was 13 repeating in his head. Turn it off, turn it off, turn it off...

Both the man in the doorway and Elder Ceitful smirked, the latter leaning over to Logan. “What was that you told me yesterday? ‘I like women, just as Heavenly Father intended’?”

Logan wanted to glare at him, but was still struck by the beauty of the stranger. After a pause, he did the only thing he could think of:

Run away.

As he left, he heard the two still at the door exchange a greeting.

“Jan? Is that you? No way!”

“Hey, Remus. It’s been a while.”

“No shit! Come on in, we have so much we need to catch up on! And I have a few new fanfics I need proof read!”

“Oh, I wish I could, but I’m required to stay with my mission companion at all times. Maybe you should invite us both in.”

Logan skidded to a stop, turning to his companion. “Don’t you dare!!!”

The man, Remus, grinned. “Why of course you can both come in!” He retreated back into his house, and Elder Ceitful followed, before pausing and turning to Logan.

“Come on, Elder Berry! You wouldn’t want to break the rules, would you?”

Logan hesitated. These thoughts that he had around Remus were unholy... but breaking mission rules was unholy too! He growled in annoyance, looking to his companion, who was giving him a sickly sweet and incredibly faux smile. 

Logan couldn’t win, could he?

He huffed before returning to the house, and unwillingly followed Elder Ceitful inside.

[lu-undy]

Chapter 6 - SBT

Here is chapter 6! Let me know what you guys think so far! ;)

Mundy drove to a quiet spot in the middle of the desert. He needed some peace and quiet to think. 

"Roight, what do I know…?"

The Australian was lying on his van's rooftop, his eyes on the night sky and yet not seeing the stars. 

"They did it in two times. What's that supposed to mean…?"

He liked the desert. It was a place of solace, a place of calm and paradoxically enough, despite its impressive size, the desert was where the tall man felt the most intimacy. The dust there knew him better than anyone. 

Really? He wondered. 

Yeah, actually. 

The dust knew him better than anyone. The cacti would hear him think and the boulders would answer in the echo of his own voice.

He shook his head to shoo away the thought and not fall in the trap of dwelling on it too much. 

"Roight, the 'gators, the bloody 'gators. Why would they get the job done in two times? They had more than enough cars to get them all in one go… They'd all have fitted!" 

He sighed as he realised what his comeback in the business meant. 

"Bloody hell…" 

He thought he had torn that page of his existence and burnt it away. 

"Bloody hell…"

He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't take it back again. It was insane. Insane and unreasonable. Insane, unreasonable and madly dangerous. It had cost him too much by the past, way too much. 

"No."

No. He wouldn't take the job. He would call Johnson first thing in the morning and he would refuse. 

No! It was bloody crazy! He had lost too much and for what? For animals? Animals? 

He had been clawed, bit, punched, kicked and shot. All for animals, some of them no one even cared about…! No one, but him. 

Crazed gunman. 

His father was right. He had become exactly that… 

Mundy sighed and opened another beer. 

So that was it, eh? He would abandon those alligators to basically die…? Hm, and why not? No one had saved him when he had needed it, when he was at the bottom of the pit, no one, no man or animal came to help. So why on Earth should he help rich-as-all-hell Johnson and his bloody crocodiles?!

No one had helped the solitary Australian man in a van. Like a sad ice cream truck, he would drive her around without any music on, dragging her around with him. She was more than a home on wheels, she was his home, and his best friend. She was all he had left. At least, she had been there. 

He would sleep in the safety of her arms, he would talk to her, and she was by far his most helpful companion. She knew how to listen to him when he needed an ear and was there when he had moments of happiness, to celebrate with him. Although… Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember any such moment since… Well, since a long time now that didn't seem that long. The past years seemed to all mash together to an inconsistent soup of non-events through which one thing had persisted. His solitude.  

That was his second best friend, after the van. At first he had hated her and couldn't stand her. She had invited herself in his life flinging the door to his heart wide open and without knocking. She had erupted in the most brutal fashion.

Then she made him like her. He didn't want anything to do with her but she cleverly managed to get him to do exactly what she wanted. Ha, some people say that a man only sees reason when he meets a woman. Those are lucky bastards who haven't met Solitude first. He hated that she controlled him, he hated that she had cut all his ties with his friends and any human contact that remained, she killed as easily as his kukri sliced a juicy melon.

Mundy was her prisoner. The only way to break free from her, was to embrace his condition and see it not like a constraint, but like a normal life. And so he did. He let her have her way without resisting anymore and had grown to like it. She had brought him peace and more free time that he ever thought was possible to have.

For what? Well, for the last thing he had, namely, himself. 

No one cared about him, so he had grown to care about no one but himself. Hidden behind the safety of his tinted glasses and under his brown hat, he felt as comfortable as a snail in his shell. He was sheltered, safe and protected in a zone where things were familiar and usual, and where he was the only one in charge. His best companion, Solitude, controlled everything so nothing went wrong and nothing surprised him in a regrettable way. 

That's how he had chosen to live for almost a decade now. Some would say it was sad, others would argue there was no point in living if it is to go through the days like that. Maybe they were right and he was just organically decaying, withering one day after the next, growing older and waiting for his conclusion to bow goodbye to no one but his van…? 

Maybe. 

Yet something had planted the seed of doubt in his heart. Something was tickling the back of his mind and almost his conscience. 

Yes no one cared about those alligators and in all honesty, now, neither did Mundy. But… When he had entered the enclosure, when he smelt those familiar scents of wilderness, when his hands touched the wood of the log, the blood on the wall, the dust of the tracks left by the trucks… When he started seeing the scene in his head, those men shooting the alligators, dragging them out and driving off… 

He had felt something that Solitude had taken away from him and jealously kept away.  He could barely recall what she was called, that other one. The one that made him see the orange of the desert, the blue of the sky, the green of the cacti. The one who made him smell the warmth and not the bitterness of his coffee, the one who made him taste the sweetness of the apples that he now had gotten used to crushing between his teeth not to enjoy them, but because crushing something outside of him was much better than inside. 

What was left to crush in his little empty self now anyway? Pff, nothing! Solitude, like the very efficient poison that she was, had done one hell of a spring cleaning and had got rid of anything that would make him feel any shred of life in his body. 

Life! That was her name! That's what she was called! That's the one that Solitude had taken away from him! His life!

He had felt alive again in that enclosure, for a fleeting moment, yes, but he had felt it! His heart pumping, his eyes excitedly looking for clues, his mind eagerly trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Mind you, he hadn't felt that in years!

So now he was faced with a choice. 

Either stay with Solitude and repeat his days like the verses of a song he knew too well, comfortably nested in rituals that she had laid for him; or risk it and take his life back, let himself work again, let himself feel whatever life would throw at him. Make the bet that he could find those alligators and get them to safety, for them, for himself and for his life. Screw Johnson long and large, he couldn't care less about the man. There was something about rich people that he couldn't stand. Their arrogance in thinking that they were owed everything because they had enough paper notes and metal coins to get it. He hated that. 

Besides, what was left to lose now, hm?

Mundy's eyes darted left and right as if he was looking in his own head, trying to find something that he would regret if he came to lose it. But nothing came to his mind… Absolutely nothing.

Solitude or Life?

Live his days like photocopies of each other or risk it all and feel again?

His mind was set and he slept on his decision. Solitude would be upset and would no doubt try and catch him back, but Mundy was ready to fight. He had survived long enough, time to live. Life was extending a helpful hand to him. Why not accept it when he had nothing left to lose?

The next morning, the Australian was driving to find somewhere to get his breakfast from. He looked for a place he hadn't been in a long time as the perspective of being recognised and dragged in small talk by anyone made him gag in his head. 

Ah but no… Not anymore… He had set his mind to cheat on Solitude and take risks. 

And it seemed to him that the van drove him as opposed to the other way around. She parked in that same place he had had a coffee the day before. 

"Roight…" Mundy took a deep breath and took a seat at the same table he had the day before, on the terrace. He looked around him. The city was waking up and people were commuting either to work, or parents with their children to school. The sun shone beautifully and not too brightly. All in all it seemed like a good day.

“Look who came back…!” It was the same waitress. He raised his eyes to her. 

“Oh, hey there.”

“Good to see you again. You liked my coffee, eh?”

Mundy smiled. 

“Well, was good enough for me to come back apparently.”

“Yeah, apparently.”

They exchanged a short chuckle.

“Should I get you the same?”

“Yeah. Uhm, actually, could I get a muffin with that?”

“Sure, which one? We’ve got chocolate with chocolate chips, classic with chocolate chips and classic with berries.”

“Uhm, classic with berries would be nice, yeah.”

“Alright…” She scribbled everything on her small notepad. “Anything else with that?”

“Nah, that’ll be more than fine.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome, beautiful smile you have.”

And on that note, she turned her heels and went away, leaving the Aussie surprised and confused. 

Beautiful smile you have.

He didn’t know what he looked like when he smiled anymore but she had found it beautiful. Mundy looked at his reflection on the metal sugar bowl. It was distorted given the shape of it but that was the only thing he could see himself on now. He tried smiling again and stared. Was that beautiful? He stopped smiling and looked away, pushing the sugar bowl further from him. 

No, he didn’t look anything like that, if anything, he looked strange when he smiled, he almost pitied himself…

“There we are…!”

The waitress stopped him right before he fell in a dangerous abyss.

“Black coffee and muffin with berries for the handsome man with the van…!”

She placed the coffee mug and the pastry on the table in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“Oh, what’s wrong? Did I get your order wrong?” The waitress got her notepad and flipped the pages quickly.

“No, nah, it’s fine.”

“You’re a very bad liar…”

She took a seat opposite him.

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” He asked, trying to earn some time and come up with an excuse.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Bah… It’s work stuff…”

“What is it that you do in your job?”

“I’m a hunter.”

“Ooh… What kind of animals d’you hunt?”

“The ones no one else can.”

Her eyes lit up at the mere thought of the level of danger that it involved.

“You got me interested there! Tell me more…!”

“Well, I don’t know... “ Mundy removed his hat and scratched his head.

“Oh, c’mon!” She insisted.

“That’s no sheila’s talk, y’know…”

“Who cares, imagine I’m a bloke and tell me, please…?”

Mundy sighed.

“I uh… I go after poachers.”

“You hunt poachers?”

“In a way, yeah.”

“D’you kill them?”

“No! Nah, never… I just give them a good fright and make them understand that they have to stop.”

“Hm, you make them understand, eh?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I think it’s the best way to put it.”

“So what’s it like?” She asked.

“What?”

“How does it work? Go on, give me an example!” 

Mundy was at a loss. She seemed to enjoy talking to him and asking him about his job. Of course he was mildly sugarcoating it. No sheila needed to hear the exact way that he dissuaded the poachers to ever take a job again. But maybe that was his chance. Maybe that waitress was a first point of contact with a fellow human being. 

“Well, there was this time where uh, you know the kangaroo and emu reserve?”

“The one outside of town?”

He bit in his muffin and nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah I see where it is.”

“Well, they had some problems cause they kept on losing the kangaroos. Thing is, those big ones don’t really have natural predators and certainly not around that reserve so they called me in. I took a bit of time to work out that it was a group of poachers who’d slip in at night and steal a few every so often. I waited for them to strike again and caught them red-handed.”

“Is it dangerous?”

Mundy bobbed his head left and right as he continued eating his muffin.

“Depends. For a few ‘roos, nah. People don’t want the kangaroos for their fur or anything. It’s just for their meat, which is a bit more expensive than beef, yeah, but not that ridiculous. It’s when they go for more rare or more pricey animals that it usually gets a bit more difficult.”

“Why?”

He gulped down and took another bite before answering.

“Cause usually if you want your hand on say some snake’s skin or some crocs’, you’re ready to make a fortune and you’re ready to pay whatever it costs to get it. You know that after you sell it, you’re gonna be filthy rich, that’s why…”

“Oh, I see… Do you ever get hurt and stuff?”

Mundy frowned as he wiped his hands on a paper towel.

“Oh yeah, countless times. It’s not an easy job on the body and on the mind but eh, gets the gas paid for the van and it’s honest work so can’t complain.”

Mundy had finished his muffin and was sipping on his coffee.

“Must be intense at times, yeah?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Although most of the time, nothing happens really.”

“Which I guess is quite nice, you got some free time, eh?” She answered.

He looked her in the eye.

“Yeah, yeah it isn’t that bad.”

Mundy finished his coffee and leaned back on his chair. He let the silence settle before he tilted his head on the side and asked.

“What about you?”

The waitress opened wide eyes and her cheeks turned pink.

“Well, I’m a waitress here.”

“Can see that, yeah.” 

They both chuckled. 

“You like it here?”

“Yeah, job’s easy and pays the bills and rent…”

“But..?” He anticipated.

“But I wish I could do something more… y’know… better.”

“What would that be?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Something with plants. I’ve always liked gardening but eh, bills aren’t gonna pay themselves.”

“It’s not too late to look for somethin’ in that area. Plenty of parks and stuff here.” He answered.

“Yeah but I don’t know anythin’ about it. Used to garden with my Granny when I was a little girl. She had a massive garden, always green no matter the season. We used to take care of it together.”

“You could try and learn. I’m sure there are places that could teach you or somethin’.”

“Yeah, I suppose I could…” She sighed.

“What’s stoppin’ you?” He asked. 

“I don’t really have the time with this job.”

“Got kids to take care of at home?” Mundy asked innocently but only realised that she didn’t after he saw a flash in her eyes.

“Nah, nah I’m alone.”

“Well then you could try and find sort of uh, night classes, or something that suits you for the hours, to still work here at the same time, I s’ppose.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

She smiled.

“What’s your name?”

“M.”

“Just M?”

He nodded.

“In that case, I’m E.”

She extended her hand to him. He stared at it for an awkward second. It seemed like he had been parachuted in the human race and didn’t know the customs of it… But he eventually shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you M.”

“Same.”

She stood up and took her tray. 

“Right, better get back to it before I get shouted at.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll walk to the counter with you, I need to go.”

He took his hat off the table and followed her in. She went behind the counter and he paid for what he had.

“Uhm, M?”

“Hm?” He answered as he put his change back in his wallet.

“Come back tonight, at about 8.”

He raised his head to her and his eyebrows twitched for an instant.

“I should be done with my shift by then.” 

Mundy’s eyes widened.

“Okay, alright…”

He turned his back and walked to the door.

“Don’t forget!”

His grip hardened on the door handle. He turned to her and nodded.

“I won’t.” 

[dem-obscure-imagines]

A Picnic with the Princess

Gil x Reader

Prompt: GIL X READER WITH LITERALLY ANY PLOTTTT

Note: Say no more.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.4k

Gil couldn’t remember the first time he’d heard about Belle. It seemed his entire childhood was littered with stories of her. The one who’d gotten away, as his father said.

“In another life, she’d be your mother, you know.” Gaston would comment casually, images of the queen and her beastly husband on the screen of the TV in the den. This was usually followed by Gaston asking Gil to get him another beer before he’d tell him, drunkenly. “Don’t make my mistakes, Gil. You find yourself a girl like that, you don’t ever let her go, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

And so he promised himself if he ever found someone he felt that way about, he’d do everything in his power to make sure he didn’t lose her, no matter what.

This proved to be easier said than done.

“Woahhhh, who is she?” Gil sat up a little straighter, looking at the people on the TV at Uma’s mom’s chip shop. There was a girl standing beside King Ben, a girl that wasn’t Mal. This one was wearing a yellow dress, a rose tucked into her hair, which was up in a bun.

“Have ye been living under a rock, matey? That there’s Princess (Y/N).”

“King Ben’s twin sister. Younger than him by four minutes. Four minutes shy of the throne. And I thought I got screwed out of a crown…” Uma chuckled. “All of the attention has been on Ben since like…forever, so I’m not surprised you’ve never heard about her.”

“She’s the princess?” Gil asked, grabbing an onion ring from the basket on the table and munching on it absentmindedly. “Huh…”

Whatever Uma and Harry said next went unheard. Gil was long gone, his eyes glued to the screen as they talked about the princess that had somehow escaped his knowledge for this long. She was beautiful. An enchanted rose in a world full of dandelions. He knew somehow, he had to meet her.

This dream went ignored for a long time. In fact, by the time the barrier finally went down and Gil finally got off of his hellhole of an island, he’d forgotten there even WAS a princess. Well, until he was sitting in his classroom at Auradon Prep and in walked the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life.

The breeze coming in through the open window gently blew her hair, and a single rose was tucked behind her ear. It was like time had stopped. She was walking in slow motion towards him, closer, closer, closer until she sat down in the seat next to his. She said something, but he couldn’t hear anything until Harry jabbed him in the ribs and he realized something had happened.

“Oh! H-hi, did you say something, y-your highness?”

“You can just call me (Y/N).” You giggled and motioned to the desk next to his. “I just asked if this seat was taken?”

“It’s not!” Gil jumped. “You can, uh, sit there if you want. You can sit anywhere you want, you’re the princess.”

“And you’re…Gil, right? Gaston’s son?” Holy shit, you knew his name?! Gil’s heart raced, and then dropped just as quickly when he realized that you knew exactly who he was. All of his chances with you had just gone down the drain.

“That’s me.”

“I was hoping I’d get to meet you! You…you were actually one of my picks for the first batch of VKs, but my votes usually get vetoed around here…”

“You…wanted me?” Gil’s expression melted and he looked at you in disbelief. All of his nerves had left, and instead warmth unlike anything he’d ever had on the Isle filled his chest.

“Of course. I’m a big believer in repairing broken bonds, making things right. I mean, if things were different, we would have probably been friends growing up.”

“Yeah, we probably would have.” He smiled softly.

Harry retreated to the back of the room, where Uma was sitting. The lesson started a few minutes later, and by the end of it, Gil was left utterly confused. Had he been too distracted by the princess sitting next to him to pay attention to the teacher? Maybe a little. But you noticed his lost look and waved a hand in front of him.

“If you need help studying, I can totally help you sometime. I’ve read this book a few times, so it shouldn’t be too difficult for me.”

“That would be great. Thank you so much!”

“Don’t mention it. Does tomorrow work? It’s supposed to be nice out. I could grab a picnic basket and we could make a little day of it.”

“I’d really like that.”

***

The next day came and Gil was…nervous. Was this a date? He liked you, obviously, but did you like him? You’d told him you wanted to bring him to Auradon a long time ago, so you must have at least known a little bit about him before. You knew that he existed at least.

So, Gil spent a little longer getting ready than usual. He traded his leather for a nice polo and shorts and put his hair up. He couldn’t remember a time he’d ever been dressed up. It wasn’t exactly easy to find clean clothes on the Isle; having a whole closet full of them was new.

He looked so different that when he walked down the stairs, you had to do a double-take.

“Woah, Gil? You look really nice!” You beamed. “You ready for our study date?”

Gil’s heart lurched at the word ‘date.’ “Y-yeah! So ready!” He reached forward and gently took the picnic basket from you. “Here, I’ll carry this.”

“What a gentleman.” You teased, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. This was the first time Gil had ever seen you without a flower resting there; this was a problem he would have to fix, he decided.

The two of you walked out to the courtyard, where you led Gil to your favorite tree. You spread the blanket on the grass and sat down, patting the spot beside you. Gil helped unpack the snacks while you flipped through the questions on the study guide. The two of you talked about the book for a long time. It happened to be one of your favorites, a story about a little town with a lighthouse in a world without magic. You helped explain some of the themes and motifs and once he had a pretty good understanding, you busted out the snacks.

“Woah, blueberries?!”

“Strawberries, actually.” You giggled. “Blueberries are blue.”

“Right. I knew that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, reaching for one of the sweet berries to try. He’d never had a strawberry before, but he decided very quickly that he liked them. “These are really good.”

“I tried to pick things you didn’t have on the Isle, but it turned out to be a longer list than I thought it would be, so I grabbed a bunch of my favorites.”

“You have good taste.” He smiled. Gil looked around at the beautiful garden he’d found himself in. There was so much green here. After living here for a little while, he thought he’d get accustomed to it eventually, but he didn’t think he could ever take a place like this for granted. A life of dirt and rust and grime had given him a perspective he was grateful you’d never have to have. He’d never wish that life on anyone, certainly not on the princess who took his breath away.

“I’m really sorry, Gil. I’m really sorry you had to…go through everything you’ve been through. My dad thought he was doing something right, protecting people, but he was hurting people, too. I wish he’d realized that sooner.”

“It’s not your fault.” Gil shook his head. Your hand was resting on the picnic blanket, so he took the opportunity and slowly took it in his own, admiring each of your little fingers. “You and Ben and Mal…you fixed it. Yeah, it was bad, but you did what you could. And I’m here now, and that’s all we’ve ever wanted.”

“That makes me feel a little better.” You blushed, suddenly shy.

“Good.” Gil rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand. “So uh…what do you think it would take to get you to go out with me sometime?”

“A date with a princess? Well, I don’t have any plans tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow it is. Prepare to be swept off of your feet, princess. Tomorrow is the day all of your dreams come true.”

You smiled at him, watching as he plucked a rose off of the bush beside him and gently tucked it behind your ear. “I’m counting on it.”

[nerianasims]

Billboards #1 1972

Under the cut.

Don McLean – “American Pie” -- January 15, 1972

I grew up without having a clue what McLean was supposedly singing about, so I figured it was some weird fantasy thing. Maybe he meant it to be deadly serious, maybe not. He's always refused to explain it, which is the smart move. I find it fun like a big Broadway song.

Al Green – “Let’s Stay Together” -- February 12, 1972

I'm always predisposed to love soul music. And this is Al Green, singing a heartfelt song to his love that they should stay together forever, through everything. "Loving you whether, whether/ Times are good or bad, happy or sad." It sounds like marriage vows. Great song.

Nilsson – “Without You” -- February 19, 1972

I have to be in a particular kind of mood to enjoy this song. Cheerful enough not to mind pure, unadulterated soft cheese. Sort of the emotional equivalent of eating cream cheese plain. Nilsson sounds like he truly means it, which is what saves the song. It is fun to belt out the chorus along with him.

Neil Young – “Heart Of Gold” -- March 18, 1972

Okay but so why do you deserve a heart of gold? You've been searching and not found one, but maybe if you did things to draw someone with a heart of gold to you, it wouldn't be so hard. Yeah, the narrator of this song annoys me. To be honest, Neil Young's voice kinda does too. It's one of the rare songs where I prefer the instrumental parts to the sung parts. The harmonica's great. Actually I think I might prefer this song if it were entirely instrumental, because it is pretty. Otherwise, meh.

America – “A Horse With No Name” -- March 25, 1972

The subculture you're in is more important to your life than whatever bigger culture it happens to exist within. And in the 90s, my subculture loved Wally Pleasant, the local East Lansing comedy folk singer. On his album "Songs About Stuff," there's a song called "Lost Weekend Las Vegas." He takes off from a Michigan winter to Las Vegas. There, he meets a "real nice showgirl," and in a conversation with her, he brings up "A Horse With No Name." "You know that song/ By Neil Young/ She said you're wrong/ Neil Young didn't sing that song." I can never hear "A Horse With No Name" without thinking of "Lost Weekend Las Vegas."

Wally Pleasant at one point sings, "I've had about enough of this crazy stupid trip." I kinda feel like that silly humor song has more to say about life than "A Horse With No Name." But "A Horse With  No Name" sure sounds good.

Roberta Flack – “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” -- April 15, 1972

Roberta Flack is an amazing singer, and this is a good love song. But I don't like it. It's too drawn out and slow. It was originally about twice as fast, and that doesn't surprise me. When a song doesn't seem to have any type of beat, it can give me a headache, and this one does.

The Chi-Lites – “Oh Girl” -- May 27, 1972

Doing this list, I have come to realize how much I like the harmonica. I always knew I liked it, but never knew before that it's in my top tier of instruments, like the alto flute and cello. The harmonica in this song laments even better than the singer, Eugene Record, who is great. As for the lyrics, the singer has cheated, and it's pretty strongly hinted that peer pressure to be macho had a lot to do with it. "All my friends call me a fool/ They say let the woman take care of you/ So I try to be hip and think like the crowd/ But even the crowd can't help me now." He needs new friends. He's completely helpless, emotionally, without his "girl," and now he's gone and screwed everything up, and he knows it. A beautiful song with much more to say than about just one relationship.

The Staple Singers – “I’ll Take You There” -- June 3, 1972

This is a gospel/funk song about heaven. It's musically good, but so repetitive I can only handle about a minute of it.

Sammy Davis Jr. – “The Candy Man” -- June 10, 1972

So this is a thing that happened. "The Candy Man" is a song from the Gene Wilder Willy Wonka movie, which bugs me in the ways it changes the book's plot, though I still like it. The song should never have been a hit, let alone a #1 hit, let alone one sung by Sammy Davis Jr. He sounds embarrassed singing it, and I'm embarrassed listening to it. Sammy Davis Jr. deserved multiple #1 hits -- he was the best singer of The Rat Pack -- but not this one. It's depressing that this is what he got.

Neil Diamond – “Song Sung Blue” -- July 1, 1972

I don't like Neil Diamond. I don't particularly dislike Neil Diamond either. To me, Neil Diamond exists when I am reminded of his existence and then flickers out as soon as I am no longer forced to think of him. This song sounds like a nursery rhyme. Subject: Everyone gets sad sometimes and sings the blues. There are good songs about that. This is not one of them.

Bill Withers – “Lean On Me” -- July 8, 1972

This is one of them. Not just good, but great. The melody is simple, as is the concept. But it keeps building and building. Truly great.

Gilbert O’Sullivan – “Alone Again (Naturally)” -- July 29, 1972

Well this song is weird. It's jaunty, though it is in minor key. And it's about how the narrator was stood up at the altar and plans to kill himself. And how also his mother was destroyed when his father died. And how his mother died too. And now he's "alone again, naturally." I don't like it at all. It needs to be different musically, and even then I wouldn't like something this wildly depressing.

Looking Glass – “Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl)” -- August 26, 1972

A lot of sailors want Brandy, but she's in love with a man whose only true love is the sea and that's why she turns them all down. That's her excuse, anyway. I think she wants to be a sailor like the guy, and she understands not wanting to settle down because she doesn't want to either. It's a fun song to sing along to.

Three Dog Night – “Black & White” -- September 16, 1972

It's a song about racial harmony. It's simplistic, but that's okay, it's a pop song. I wish it weren't so musically simplistic.

Mac Davis – “Baby, Don’t Get Hooked On Me” -- September 23, 1972

The narrator is telling "you" that he can tell you're falling in love with him, and that you shouldn't. A guy did this with me once. Turned out he was actually falling in love with me and was projecting or something. So that's how I see this song. Except the song is worse, because it's incredibly annoying musically, with a weird beat and strange gaps. Also it's smarmy.

Michael Jackson – “Ben” -- October 14, 1972

Michael Jackson was only 14 when he sang this song, so I'm not going to get into it deeply. It's a friendship song to a killer rat in a horror movie, though so... that's a thing.

Chuck Berry – “My Ding-A-Ling” -- October 21, 1972

It's a 46-year old man pretending to be a little kid singing about his own dick. I can't begin to comprehend why it was a hit, or why it was even a thing in the first place. Yech. Moving on.

Johnny Nash – “I Can See Clearly Now” -- November 4, 1972

In the song, the narrator still has problems, but he can see how to solve them, finally. It's sort of reggae-ish, but very lightly. It's a great, optimistic song.

The Temptations – “Papa Was A Rollin’ Stone” -- December 2, 1972

This song takes a bit to get going, but I don't mind at all. The music and instruments keep changing up, and the great bassline propels it all. It builds up the tension in a great way. Then, finally, a Temptation starts, "It was the third of September." I'm not to that point listening to the song yet, and I didn't look it up. But I know this song. It's in my blood. It's unflinching. "Never heard nothing but bad things about him." The song doesn't try to pretend to any uplifting or hopeful message. But it feels so good. That's the blues, whatever genre it's slotted into.

Helen Reddy – “I Am Woman” -- December 9, 1972

"I am woman, hear me roar." She's not roaring. She's meowing maybe. Maybe if Reddy had sung the song with more power, people would have been scared by it. I like the lyrics, which are sadly still very relevant, though we have come far. But the music belongs with some peppy love ballad.

Billy Paul – “Me And Mrs. Jones” -- December 16, 1972

Oh god I love this song. Billy Paul's a jazz singer, and uses his voice like an instrument. And he gets every drop of sadness out of the song without melodrama. He's not self-pitying, and while he's heartbroken, he's still thoughtful. It's a beautiful song about an adult going through being a cheater. For someone with a conscience, "going through" is the right term. This guy's not sleeping around carelessly. "We both know that it's wrong." He fell deeply in love with someone else. It happens. The song is beautiful and heartbreaking and I adore it.

BEST OF 1972:  "Papa Was A Rollin' Stone" by The Temptations  WORST OF 1972: "My Ding-A-Ling" by Chuck Berry

[smolbeandrabbles]

Sway Pt.9 - Danny Rayburn x Reader (Bloodline)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6  / Part 7 / Part 8 / Here / Part 10 Author’s Note: This was originally the ending. So really THIS is the ‘Finale’ and pt.10 is ‘Epilogue’... At this point I’m running out of anything to say about this series other than I can’t believe we’re here... That mugshot though... Ammirite?! 😏😏 Disclaimer: Slight plot point changes from the show. And uh, I guess the police might keep evidence for a good long period of time? But screw it - for Reader this stuff was important. Actually holding my hands up about my own story here. When ‘Sway’ was MUCH MUCH shorter, Readers relationship with Marco was going to be heavily explored, and I started that plot point in pt.2 - but never really drove it anywhere until THIS part. (again, some of this was written in January). Because it’s SO important I’m not changing it. And as we know reader has been to the Keys a bunch of times this is still plausible, only I haven’t really explored his nick-name for her or their friendship... It all kinda develops here! Premise: You receive a call that wreaks your life... In trying to piece it all together you receive a letter that makes little sense... And a tape that might just save everything... Words: 8213

Warnings: major character death / swearing / death/injury detail / Angst

In advance... I am so sorry...

Hello summer, goodbye to my heart Blue skies and blue eyes, a hell of a way to start Letting him go would be the hardest part Hello summer, goodbye to my heart Yeah, he packed his bags, filled his tank with gas Man, it went by so fast Too good to last, yeah, just like that It was goodbye summer, you tore me apart Blue eyes and blue skies fade into the dark Letting go is the hardest part... Letting him go will be the hardest part Goodbye summer, hello to my broken heart ---

You were chilling on your balcony with your mom and your two best friends. You had a glass in your hand of sparkling juice, acting fancy when they were all allowed wine and you obviously were not. It was a great day, just so beautiful.... you wished it wasn’t just them hanging with you. Your phone rang, landline not mobile, so even though he was in your head he hadn’t quite reached your phone yet. “Oh, Geeez! I better get that! Hang on!” “If it’s that freakin’ man tell him to get his ASS back to Miami You’re PREGNANT!!” “Amanda geez! Shut up!” You laughed, placing your glass on your table you crossed to the phone. “Hello?” “Hello. Is this F/N M/N Ervin?” You raised an eyebrow, who the heck would ever call you by your full name? If it wasn’t Danny and his sarcastic ass, which it wasn’t. “This is she?” “M’am... Does a Daniel Robert Rayburn live with you?” Well, that was relative, Danny had around 5 different addresses and he was currently living in the Keys. “I guess when he’s in Miami he does....” You trailed, and got suddenly worried “... Wait. Who is this? This seems kinda official...?” “This is Islamorada police department m’am.” “... What did he do?!” It was your first thought “Is he in trouble?!” Danny had been in trouble many a time for stupid things but he never ever gave your name or address. Especially in Miami. But you guessed he wasn’t in Miami anymore. Danny’s voice suddenly resounded in your head – The Key’s wasn’t done with him – what kind of trouble had he got himself into down there? You’d thought sending Nolan cash was weird – but it was Danny and it didn’t have you worried until now. “M’am...” his tone of voice scared you suddenly, “M’am... we regret to inform you...” “No... No... No,No,No,No,No....” you started before he’d even got the words out; “... Daniel Rayburn’s body was found...” “NO!!” It wasn’t anything like you’d ever thought... it was worse. So much worse. Your knees gave out and you slid down the kitchen wall; weak. He was trying to calm you down, he was trying to tell you something else... but... your world had stopped.

You were sobbing uncontrollably and had no idea what to do, let alone how to stop yourself. Your scream had not gone unnoticed by your friends and your mom, who all ran in. They all looked confused, concerned, they were all talking to you, but, you couldn’t hear them either. Your ears were ringing, echoing... and you had a horrible feeling that all the echoes were Danny... that just made you cry even more...

Your mom took the phone; “Hello?... No... This is her mother...” and then quietly whilst your friends wound their arms around you, in the knowledge that whatever it was you needed comforting; “...oh. Oh my god. What happened?” You realised that you had cradled your stomach, the bump was small but it was showing... This baby... and Nolan... that was all you had left. Just like that Danny was gone; your lover, your EVERYTHING was gone. The life you’d been trying to plan out the future you had dreamed about, GONE. In 10 seconds.

And John Rayburn didn’t even have the guts to call you from his own police department.

 ***

2 Weeks Later…

“Y/N...?” Your moms voice barely registered... “Y/N... honey...” you twisted towards her... propping yourself up on your elbow. You were wearing sleep shorts and one of Danny’s shirts. But not just one of Danny’s shirts – because, hell, that’s all you’d been wearing these days - But one of his chefs’ whites. D.Rayburn embroidered not just across the pocket... but across your heart.

You mom sat at the end of your bed. You were a mess and you knew it. You had barely slept, barely eaten, you left the bed if you so happened to be hungry, if you needed coffee or fresh air... and every so often you changed your shirt. You wanted to be surrounded by him. Because if he couldn’t hold you then at least his shirts damn well could. “Hmmm?” “Darling... don’t you think you should...” she stopped, even your parents were finding this difficult. They both loved Danny. They loved you together. But even they could not fathom how utterly devastated you were. You hadn’t done anything in days. You couldn’t listen to music, you couldn’t read, or write, or work or... you just lay here. And every thought of Danny made you cry, only now you couldn’t cry anymore. You were done. You were completely numb; empty and broken. You rolled onto your back; “Mama... I don’t... I don’t want to do anything....” “I know...” she took your hand “Baby I know... but... it’s not just you...” she placed a hand on your stomach “I know he’s gone... baby... I know... but if you want any part of him to remain yours, you need to take care of this baby...” “Devan...” tears ran down your face again “...Danny named... our baby... Devan...” you sobbed between words. And this time your mom cried too; “Devan??” She almost laughed “that’s so Danny...” then she began cried again “Please... baby please... no more tears... I don’t want to see you crying any more darling, please...” You rubbed your eyes “I can’t stop... momma... I will never see him again... He’s gone...”

Ever since Islamorada had called you, you’d been here. Your friends, and his, had sent you a bunch of messages that you couldn’t bring yourself to face – even though you thought you should be surrounding yourself with support right now, you didn’t want any of it. You wanted to be alone. You’d made the effort once, in 2 weeks and you’d seen Nolan. But with the both of you just in tears it wasn’t exactly the best of social interactions. You couldn’t face that apartment alone; you couldn’t be in that bed without Danny knowing he wasn’t coming back. Everywhere you looked you knew you would see just another memory of him. You didn’t want any of that, as much as you DID want it. You would drown in your sorrow and memory there; or you would drown in something else. And you knew enough to know that it was a road you couldn’t go down. Not with Devan. Your unborn baby was counting on you to get through this – but right now, you weren’t sure if you could.

 **

 The next time you ventured out of your room for coffee your father was at least glad to see you were wearing a different variation on your Danny shirt fascination. You poured yourself half a coffee, then stopped, tipping it out and pouring yourself a large glass of water instead. You opened the cupboard and started gathering together anything that made you think of healthy; of real actually good food. Because Danny had always got exasperated at you eating anything else – ever since that first trip shopping he’d basically been in charge of your kitchen supplies. And he’d end up on long rants about what was good for what – meaning you better believe the second you’d told him you were pregnant he was calling you every time he thought of something else you should or shouldn’t be eating… You pulled out of your back pocket a prenatal pill packet and swept your hair back into a ponytail. “...You doing okay?” You turned to him; pouring out cereal, switching milk for yoghurt, you threw on a bunch of seeds and berries and sat on the kitchen counter. “No... but...Mom’s right about my baby...” Your dad crossed to you; “That man would have given you the stars...” “He did...” you said through a mouthful of cereal “...He always did...” You father took a breath; “... Y/N...I would have let him give you the world. So now... I want to give you a piece of his.” You took another spoonful and swallowed thoughtfully; “You what?” He smiled, placing some papers on the counter “... I would have done this so much sooner, if he’d let me. And I would do anything to get you to smile again Estrellita... And he... He would want me to...” You raised another spoonful to your mouth and swallowed before bringing the papers closer. Then you froze; “You- Oh my god! You-!” Printed at the top of the page was an address you knew all too well. Viva Caputa. “It’s in your name. Not mine.” You held the piece of paper close to your chest, looking up at him with the spark in your eyes he wanted to see so badly; “... How?!” “As you can imagine. It was an expensive piece of real estate. He owed a lot of money. The loan was huge... That restaurant has one hell of tag attached. But you think that mattered to me? All I’m asking is you go out there, and you put Danny Rayburn back on the map.” You looked back at the paper “It’s all mine?” “Yours.” You pressed your hands together in front of your lips “...I need to go back...” He tilted his head; “Yeah?” “Before I do this...” You nodded to yourself decisively. “Danny said the Keys wasn’t done with him... I don’t think it’s done with me either...”

 ***

You wandered into the police station stoic, calm almost. But you weren’t sure if that was just because you were numb to it all. Or whilst you were here you had to be numb to it all. You approached the front desk; “Miss Y/N Ervin. I was told I could pick up the articles of Mr. Daniel Rayburn.” “Yes, M’am... what relation are you?” “I’m not. I’m his girlfriend.” You noticed the person hesitate as you didn’t use ‘was’. “... He lives with me... I’m the one that was called when you found him. So, if it really matters that I’m not related to him you better find me someone to talk to...” You had it up to here with anyone so much as mentioning Danny in passing, so if they told you you couldn’t collect his things you were likely to end up arrested yourself. “Hermannaaaa!” You turned to Marco’s almost joyous tone; “Mi hermanita! What can I do for you?” “I just... needed to collect his things... Marco, then I’ll go...” “Ay! Say no more!” He turned to the desk “Get all the paper work for Danny Rayburn ready I’ll deal with her.” “But, Sir, she’s not-” “Do I make myself clear?” His voice turned authoritative and the man behind the desk replied weakly as Marco steered you out of the reception area; “You’re really showing you know!? Kids are going to look good on you!” He beamed, for once you were actually glad of a little positivity. “Do we know if it will be Daniel or Daniella yet?” He weaved you down a corridor into the evidence room. “Devan. Actually. And no, I don’t want to know.” “Devan? Danny’s choice?” “It’s what he gave me... I can hardly change it now.” “No, I would think... Coffee? Can you have coffee? Water?” “Actually coffee would be great...” “Atta girl...!” He sat you down and approached a different counter; “Can you collect all the cleared evidence relating to the Wayne Lowry case that belonged to Danny Rayburn please?” “Of course... Is there anything that didn’t clear?” “... Well I’d hope not... Check into it...” Marco turned back to you “I’ll be right back Hermana!” And off he went again; leaving you alone with your thoughts before he came back with two cups of coffee. “It’s super-hot and not that great but it’s still coffee...” He sat with you to wait for evidence, “As far as I know all his stuff is clear. No-one’s come to claim it as yet... I wasn’t sure if you’d even want to come. But, I guess material is better than nothing.” “Is his truck here?” “The Chevy? Likely in impound; I’ll take you ‘round. Did you drive down?” “Nah. With the full intention of driving back.” “Oh. Then, by all means we’ll get the truck. Uh... now, you can’t have weapons... and you can’t have illegals, obviously...” You put your head in your hands; “God I knew it couldn’t be good.” “We’ll deal with them, Y/N... I promise.” “I appreciate it Marco. I do... I just...” You were at a loss for words again, so just sat in silence and sipped your coffee. You were glad of something hot running through your system at least. Finally the lady behind the desk came back with a box. “Marco, here’s his cleared evidence.... There are a couple of uncleared pieces, if you want the paperwork...?” “Yeah, lemmie take a look.” You had the feeling Marco would likely just hand it all over. There was always something about him that you really liked, Meg didn’t know what she was missing. He motioned you to follow him into another room and pulled the chair out for you; “Let’s get this done, sweetie, then you can get on your way home. I wouldn’t want to stay here longer than I had to either...” He took the lid off the box and surveyed the contents for a minute “... Huh! His bag must be in a locker.” He fished out some keys secured with yellow tape “It’s cleared, though. Let’s see... those look like car keys... wallet... photographs... oh- I see.... phone?” He produced the flip phone that looked like it had seen better days. You’d always cracked up at it. Who was using a flip phone in 2015?! “.... I mean there’s cigarettes and a lighter in here! You’re not a smoker right?” “The red lighter?” “Significant?” “I’m not sure that even matters to me anymore, it’s him...” Marco nodded, and you knew he knew he didn’t quite understand. “... Y/N... I’m sorry to bring it up, but... Do you know what happened?” “...I’d rather not think about...” “But they told you the story right? About Lowry? And how they found him but how he actually-“ You nodded vigorously to get him to stop; “God, geez... I’m sorry... that was over the line I... I’ve just upset you I know...” You took a deep breath to stop any more tears from forming “Why do you say... story, like that?” “I’m asking if you believe it. You knew him, Y/N. Even John said nothing he said surprised you. Maybe you knew Danny better than anyone. I’m wondering if you’re buying what they are selling.” “You think it wasn’t Lowry?” You tilted your head confused “I mean, the end result is the same. Story or no.” “When you last talked to him... He didn’t... say anything, or..?” “You know he came back? He got all the way back to Miami before he turned back around and two days later, he was gone. That’s what I know.” You didn’t really mean to snap at him, but it hurt to remember that you’d held Danny in your arms back in Miami and thought he was finally home.  Marco walked you around the back of the station to the car compound. The old black Chevy sat alone; worn but still good. You couldn’t help but smile – exactly like the man who drove it. “I’ll go open this locker...” He handed you the box “This is yours now, Y/N. I know you’ll take good care of it...” He jogged back, clearly intent on not holding up your drive back to Miami. You turned back to the truck, fishing the key out of the box you unlocked the passenger door. Placing the box gently onto the passenger seat you studied it for a moment and thought about maybe belting it in. “Here! I’ve even signed out your restricted stuff..!” He handed you a plastic wallet of paper; “They look like pay checks, and a bunch of stuff they found in the glove box... some USB... I guess they found something on there but, tough. Oh, and, that phone won’t mean a thing without this...” The smaller bag between his fingers contained none other than a SIM card. “I figured, his voice mail would be somewhere you’d want to go... From time to time...” “Marco, I... don’t know what to say...” “I don’t want you to say anything Hermanita... I already know you’re thankful... You just need to say you’ve collected everything at the front desk and I can set you free... I’m assuming you don’t want to see John?” “No. I don’t want to see any of that family... it’s just... No...” Why would you? You didn’t think they deserved him – and yet for the last few days of his life they got to have him, and you didn’t. “What did he say to you when he got back to Miami?” “He didn’t. He wouldn’t... and now you’ve said... That’s what worries me.” “Shoot, I’m sorry.” “Whatever... I just don’t think seeing any of them is a good idea...”  “This seems like a dumb question... I’m not even sure it’d make you feel better... but, do you want to see-” you knew where Marco’s line of questioning was going and you cut him off, with a sad smile; “I know how I want to remember him Marco. I can’t see him. Not like that.” He placed a clipboard in your hands; “This is it. From front desk… Just let me check there’s no more…” He rubbed your shoulder “I am, truly sorry Y/N… You were good together. If there was anyone Danny was trying his best for… gonna change for… it was you.” * You were leaning against the car signing off the final paperwork when Marco came back outside, final check complete. You wanted to get out of here, but a lot was weighing on your mind. “Can I see it.” “What?” “The case file. I want to see what you’re doing. Is there anything I could be helping with? Do my answers to your questions… help?” It wasn’t a police interview he was conducting, but everything you said about Danny, it could help them uncover what had really happened. And to you, there was nothing more important. His eyes shifted, and he looked a little uncomfortable before he lowered his voice “Guess I can show you the room. But I didn’t show you or tell you anything. We have to be quick and quiet.” You nodded, you were down with that.

 Marco pushed you gently ahead of him into the room when he’d checked it was all clear. Your eyes wandered the board; falling immediately on the mugshot photograph. “Sorry—?!” You blinked twice “is that really a mugshot?!” “Direct from Miami.” “I don’t know whether to laugh or ask for a copy...” You ran your fingers over the glossy photograph, it made you hurt but…You had to admit to yourself it was gorgeous… You still weren’t sure if it’d hit you that he was really gone yet… But you knew you missed him. God, did you miss him. “You’re calling him Daniel?” “Mmm. Official stuff.” You took a breath “And you’re sure he drowned.” “Positive...” You sat back on one of the desks, pressing your fingers to your lips “I can’t take it Marco...” He walked over slowly, to sit next to you and give you time “... it’s so...” you couldn’t even find the word in your vocabulary “... The idea he was murdered was bad enough.” You were surprised at the strength in your sentence and opted to continue “... But at least... If he was shot, or if they’d done something quick... heck, explosions can be quick right?” That was the cover, after all. “...It would have been over... you know, he would have died and that was it... but...” you shook your head “In the final moments of his life... and what I have to live with knowing... is that in the final moments of his life, Danny suffered. He had to fight for breaths he couldn’t take... As if he hadn’t suffered and fought his ENTIRE life. That isn’t how it was meant to end for him. It shouldn’t have to end that way for anyone. What did he think about?? Was he scared...? Did he think about me? His kids? Did he beg for it not to end like that?! Didn’t Danny go through enough?!”

Marco knew there was nothing for him to say. Nothing he could say would have the effect you wanted to. Every question was rhetorical. The only person that could answer them, as you had just thoroughly explained, was gone. You looked to him, face and eyes serious. Although you looked numb, hollow. “I’ll do it.” “What?” “Help your investigation. Answer questions. Do anything...” you swallowed the lump in your throat “The monster that murdered the best thing I’ve ever had in my life needs to be caught. Needs justice. Marco, if I don’t help you, I will regret it for the rest of my life...”

*

He sat the tape recorder in front of you; “... I’m not pressing play. Yet. I want you to know I can stop this any time you want me too... you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to. There is no pressure and anytime you want to walk away, just say so...” You nodded “I’m ready, Marco...” He clicked it into place; “Okay... Marco Diaz interviewing Y/N Ervin with regards to the Case of Mr.Daniel Rayburn...” his eyes flicked to yours; “Ms.Ervin, when was the last time you saw Danny?” You knotted your fingers together, and took a deep breath “... Two days before his death. He caught the first bus back from Miami to the Keys... that’s around 5am...” “So, Danny did in fact go back to Miami?” “He was in Miami barely four hours... I must have picked him up around 1:30...” “And he came back to the Keys?” “He said he had unfinished business...” “Did he tell you what that was?” “No.” And you weren’t all that sure you’d have wanted to ask, either. “Did he tell you what he was doing down here in the Keys?” “Apart from working for his parents? No.” He nodded, Marco had a decision to make but he wasn’t about to drag you down that road; “Can you confirm how long you were in a relationship with Mr.Rayburn for...” “Oh... Wow.. uh, nearly... 4 years I guess.” 3 and a half…? Did it matter? It was too short. FAR too short. “Continuously?” You wondered where this was heading “...Yeah.” “Could you explain why he would text Chelsea O’Bannon that he was heading back up to Miami and not you?” Your face possibly said it all, was Marco insinuating Danny was having an affair...? Or... was that a genuine question? Marco leant over the tape “For the record Ms.Ervin looks visibly confused.” “Oh-! I’m sorry!” You shook your head, police investigation. Right. “No. But... are you sure?” “Yes?” “To clarify. Danny didn’t text. Not even me. Why text when he could talk? And boy could Danny talk... He even sent me emails rather than texting I’ve never seen him text anyone.” Marco stared at you hard for a minute “So, you’re saying it’s out of character?” “Very. If Danny was coming back to Miami, he would have told me no exceptions. Even if it was through text. He knows I wanted him back more than anything. No way he wouldn’t tell me. Not even to surprise me.” Then you tipped your head “Moreover if he wasn’t going to tell me I don’t see why he’d tell anyone else.” “He was borrowing her car.” “He’d call. Danny never text.” You were adamant. “Okay... so when is the last time you heard from Danny?” You thought “He called me... between 9-10am? When he got back to the Keys.” He reached for his pen but you shook your head indicating he shouldn’t write that down. “Then he used to call me around the time he’d done his work and I’d finished mine. So, he would have called me the night he got back between 7-8pm...” “And that’s the last you heard?” “Yeah...” “Because the only other point we have between Danny disappearing off the face of the planet and his body being found is that text. Concrete. John said he called and said he was attending the Pier dedication, and he was dressed for it, but he didn’t turn up... You’re essentially telling me he didn’t send the text. Did he call you every night?” You shook your head “... No... sometimes he was super busy or I was, nightly wasn’t normal and it didn’t bother me... it couldn’t have, or he would have called... surely his body...?” “Time Of Death is a lot harder to determine when you burn it...” You looked to the table “You’re telling me any time between him calling me and him being found he could have...?” You lowered your head onto the cool wood “I shoulda called him...” Marco paused the tape “This isn’t your fault... Y/N...” “Oh my god... That’s nearly 2 days!!!” “Y/N sweetheart... we don’t have to do this...” He opened his file to realign his papers causing you to raise your head; you caught a glimpse of a photograph and reached for it. He was quicker, slamming his hand over the top; “No.” “Marco!” “I am not letting you do that to yourself, Y/N, no way in hell! I would never forgive myself!!” “He-” “If you don’t want to see him, you do not want to see those. Trust me, it’s worse.” He took the folder off the table from under your hand and sat on it. “... look I don’t know what’s going on. But do you see what I mean, this story is suspicious at best... Lowry and his crew are dangerous Y/N... I’d rather not get you involved...” He pressed play again “This is Officer Marco Diaz terminating the interview.” Then stop. “... if I need anything else I’ll call. But by the look on your face, and for the sake of your baby I’m not putting you through anymore...” You placed your hand over his “When you know... you’ll tell me?” “Absolutely... you’re gonna be the first person I call. I promise you. Not his family. YOU.”

He walked you back to the Chevy and accepted your hug graciously; “Go on. Get off to Miami. Get home.” “Thank you...For everything…” He shook his head “It’s my job. And for you, it’s nothing. I should be thanking you, Y/N, you might just have given me a break…” You didn’t know if you were smiling in thanks, or in some strange sadistic wish for revenge; “I hope so. Finish it Marco. I know you can.” *** You pulled the Chevy smoothly into the lot next to yours. Finally. His stuff was back home, where it belonged. You stopped by your box to collect your mail on the way up and balanced it on top of Danny’s things. Unlocking your front door you placed the box on your kitchen counter. You touched it gently with your fingertips... Nope. You couldn’t do it. Not yet. You picked your mail up off the top and began to flick through it, bills and the like... Then you stopped suddenly and almost dropped everything; The written envelope was small, inflexible. But it was Danny’s writing. You put the rest of them down and turned it over. It was plain, simply addressed to you. The post mark said it was from the Keys. Posted no sooner than the day before he died. You hesitated for a moment; why was Danny writing to you? He’d seen you not even a couple of days before that. Possibly hours before this letter was posted. What? You couldn’t put it down, though. Looking to your window for a minute you looked back down at the rest of the mail. And noticed something else; Attn: Mr.N Rayburn, C/o: Miss. Y/N Ervin. It was heavy looking, and held a legal watermark in the top corner. “Danny what have you done...” You flipped over the card and delicately prized then envelope open. The card inside was accompanied by a few pieces of folded up paper. Upon opening they looked carefully written. Not rushed. On Rayburn House headed note paper and clipped together with another note; “This is what I went for...” You remembered him writing, about 4 sheets, double spaced, but he’d never read it to you. It had taken him a lot of time and rewrites and you were sure even then he wasn’t completely happy with it because it had to be perfect. He’d clearly copied it out for you... but why? You opened the note card, looking suspiciously like something you’d get from a gas station. His writing was tiny, he’d crammed as much as he could onto all three sides of blank 3x5. And he’d been in a hurry, every so often words blurred slightly where his left hand had smudged the ink as he wrote.  ‘Dearest Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you are going to have to read this. And I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. Not to your face, not this. Because I had to go back. And if I’d have said any of this to you, you never would have let me out of your apartment. I think I’m in a lot of trouble here, and I don’t know what the state of things will be when you read this. I hope better. I fear maybe not. I can’t drag you into this so if you’re thinking of reaching for those car keys don’t you dare. I can’t screw this up for you, for Nolan, for our child. If I get back to Miami I swear to you I will never come back here, but please understand right now I have to be. I left to give that speech and I never did. I should have. You know the majority; I would never keep that from you. But you need to know it all to know why I went back, because they need to know it too...  Hopefully this arrives before my legal documents, so I can quickly explain why I filed them. Maybe that’s why I came back? I’m just glad I got to see you again. Contained in that legal file, for you at least until Nolan is old enough, is my Will. Yes. I know. It is that bad. And I’ll write this a lot I know, but I’m sorry...’ You looked to the other envelope - a Will?! Danny had written a Will?! What the HELL was going on in the Keys?! You remembered the official story that you had to hear through your mom, (thankfully she spared both your best friends and your father from “the truth”) oddly enough she didn’t exactly sound convinced that Danny (the Danny she knew at least) would be capable of any of that.  Come to think of it even Marco had imposed the idea on you that it was a spun story... too convenient... it all fit too well... You turned back to the card and read on; ‘What you may hear, I want you to know is true. I got in with the wrong people and drugs have been involved. But, and this may sound crazy, If what you hear comes from John. Please. Please. I beg you not to believe it. I’m going to tell you the truth right now; if ANYTHING is out of place with what I write I want you to know, this isn’t what killed me.’ You stopped, did he know? Did he know when he went back to the keys he was going to die?!?  ‘I would urge you not to believe anything my family tells you. But you’re a smart girl, and I think you already knew that. When I get back to Miami I will tell you everything, I promise. Every question you ask I will answer. But I can’t even tell you this over the phone… I just had to write it. I hope you understand. Please don’t ask me when you next call. Please, wait for me to be home. I love you, and the last thing I want is to hurt you and my kids. Danny x’ You were confused. So did he think he was going to die or not!? And why didn’t he just TELL you!? Because now he was dead and this note card only told you half a story. It seemed to at least half corroborate the one you’d been told by the police department though – drugs and those in the running of such things who had caught up to him after something had gone wrong? Yet, something told you Danny was trying to tell you if anything happened to him. That wouldn’t be it. You opened the second envelope and unfolded it. The thick sheets of paper didn’t hold a lot of information. Danny’s life was heartbreakingly short to give out. But you smiled, Nolan was the name on the envelope – he was the oldest, it would all go to him first. And he’d be old enough for it not to be care of you for very much longer either. But this was a solid place, a solid address. You carried Ervin as your last name; which meant if there were any problems… Well, no it meant there wouldn’t be any problems. But underneath Nolan’s name was written and any subsequent children. You touched a hand to your stomach. Danny’s Will was for his kids. Absolutely it was, everything he’d worked for was always for Nolan… He would have given anything to yours too. You put the letter down and walked to your calendar making a note to ring the lawyers and Nolan. Maybe it was time to take control of your life and everything that had happened over this past month. There was no better reason than Danny’s children… ***

 3 Weeks Later...

It was odd for you how numb you seemed to get about the whole situation. How you expected yourself to be sad, still, but really felt nothing…? Or nothing you expected yourself to be feeling. Half of that might have been that you had something to work on now. And it was hard work, walking back into that restaurant was tough enough. But now you were helping your dad clear the building and redraw from scratch. With numerous sources and photographs - including Danny's own refurbishment plans. Because you didn't want one single part to look any different when anyone walked in. That meant you had drafted in people who knew Danny and knew the restaurant best to help, and the best days were when Jason and Javi dropped in…

You got up, you headed out, you worked hard, you got tired, you came home. That was your schedule... With the every-so-often check up on 'Devan'... Which you hated. Because all you had left was Danny's children. Nolan was a law unto himself, but if anything happened to your baby now...

You shook that thought away. Maybe you were just bitter. If the Rayburns had held any kind of memorial service for him you certainly hadn't been invited. And you would have found it a little more than ironic if they did. Yeah right, as if they were going to miss him like anyone in Miami did. Nolan wanted answers that you couldn’t give him, so he took off down to the Keys. You were certain from reading Danny's letter alone that he would never get any. But you weren't going to stop him leaving - because yeah, you guessed, the Rayburns were his family too.

You hadn't touched the Keys to Danny's apartment just yet - but you knew there was no way it was going anywhere. Besides, that might finally give Nolan a place of his own. And everything of Danny's that had never quite made it to yours was still stored there... Driving Danny's truck around made things easier from time to time. But even that you'd parked for a bit because you wanted to focus on anything that was remotely positive and not drown yourself in your own sorrow again. You'd only just got out of that one. Marco kept base with you - which was sweet of him. Every so often he'd send you a case update, or call just to see how you and the baby were doing. You liked that, he wanted to tell you a bunch of things about Danny that he'd just "remembered" too. And the fact that you always laughed, rather than cried, over his stories at least made you feel like you were healing.

Today you had decided to take some time for yourself for a stroll down the promenade with the sun, the sea and your music. You were not about to waste a glorious day like this stuck inside. You were returning home with a smile on your face, and possibly minor sunburn, humming along to about the most summer-y songs you could think of when the porter for your building stopped you; "OH! Y/N!" You stopped and turned back "Hey! What's up!" "Package arrive for you..." "Oh! Awesome..!" He placed the large box on the table; "...It uh... Just that it’s from the Keys..." You raised an eyebrow, true, after Danny's letter and all the legal documentation that kept turning up (that you'd also expertly been dealing with) you'd asked him to keep an eye on everything that came from anywhere Danny related. But who from the Keys would want to send you anything? Marco - perhaps? Was he sending more evidence he'd cleared? "Oh... Well that's okay... I'll sign for it..." He nodded and handed the document over for you to clear the parcel. "Thanks!" "It’s okay! I told you I'd keep a look out!" You laughed, "That you did..." Walking to the lifts you studied the address label. Strange. It wasn't Marco’s writing. In fact it wasn't writing you recognised at all. And the return address was a generic Keys zip code... Who or what could this possibly be?

 You erred on the side of caution whilst opening it and were presented with folded plain letter paper. You unfolded it carefully, the writing was the same as on the box - definitely not someone you knew by the tone of the letter.

‘Miss F/N Ervin, Danny wanted you to have these. There is one addressed specifically to you. Of that, I do not know the content. The other two should be self-explanatory. I have followed his instruction.’ What!? It wasn't even signed. You looked back into the box and removed the bubblewrap.

"...Danny... What are you doing now..." You lifted out the contents. All three of them were cassette tapes. You turned them over. Case #573459-83 was imprinted on all of them. You raised an eyebrow "Oh, I get the feeling these aren't playlists...." You set them down and checked the box again but you hadn't missed anything. Danny had sent you a bunch of tapes - or had got someone to send you a bunch of tapes  - but he hadn't included anything himself? You turned the boxes over until you found the one with the tiny sticker in the corner that held your name in Danny's writing. How the hell were you supposed to listen to it though? It wasn't like you owned a cassette player? It wasn't like your mysterious benefactor had sent one either. Was he expecting you to buy one? You picked it up; if you had to have it transcribed or copied across onto something else then someone else could listen to it, and it was clearly meant for your ears only... You stared hard at it for 5 minutes like it would miraculously give you the answer. But thinking on Danny gave it to you. His truck. His truck had a cassette tape player in it!! You remembered that because you'd specifically laughed at him that night after his fathers funeral for getting at you for creating a playlist on your ipod when he hadn't created you one when he had a player in his truck, if he was so adamant they had to be on tape. And he'd asked when the hell you thought he'd had time.

You opened your kitchen draw and grabbed the keys. Time for you to take a drive... * In fact, you drove as far out of Miami as you could to a little spot you knew where you and this tape could be alone. Because you didn't know the content, you knew that driving with it on was dangerous. You held it in your hands for a long time working up the nerve to even put it in the player. You guessed he would be talking on it. And you'd last heard his voice over the phone what seemed like years ago. You weren’t exactly sure how hearing him would make you feel. On Marco’s offer you'd called his voice mail, but it wasn't a great long rambling thing like yours. 3 words didn't feel like enough. it wasn't enough. You felt like this could be too much.  Eventually you placed it into the cassette player - why were your hands shaking, why were you getting so worked up over this!? You took a deep breath, and pressed play. There was static for a few seconds, and then you jumped; "Y/N." That was enough to send a shiver through you. You let out a noise that made you cover your mouth. SHUT UP! DON'T BE SUCH A CHILD! "God. I really hope you never hear this." Danny don't.... don't say this... "If you do... Darlin'... If you're listening right now I am so sorry. I'm so sorry that after so long it didn't work out." Danny don't you DARE. "Sweetheart, I wish I was there. You know I wish I was. You know I was an idiot for wanting to go back. And you let me, and then you let me come back again. I want you to know it was never your fault. So I don't want you to ever think that..." Bit late for that kind of apology... You sat back and crossing your arms you placed them against your forehead and took another deep breath; looking from the player to the sea in front of you. "...I screwed up. Badly. And if you're listening then REAL badly. I do know this. I have protected you, our baby, Nolan... the best that I possibly could have. So I don't want you to worry about that. OK? If there was one thing I did right it was that." He cleared his throat "Okay. Let me confess everything, right now. Everything I did wrong so you know why this is happening to YOU... You know I needed money right? Of course you did you offered help enough. But I was too damn stubborn to accept your help. So, I got in syphoning fuel here... Then... Then I decided I could do more and started running drugs for those guys." You rolled your eyes with a heavy sigh; that idiot. He'd probably started taking them too, you were sure that your apartment wouldn't ever have been a one-time thing. "Only, you know, I ran them through the Inn..." Your eyes widened at that; So, he'd tried to plot the perfect revenge? If Danny went down, the family went down too? "John told me the DEA were investigating... But... Whatever, right? Only - cuz they knew what I was doing - my siblings moved all the drugs. Well, now that just gets me in trouble with the people I'm working for, don't it?" He fell silent for a minute and shuffled around "So you may have noticed I'm recording this on a case tape." Wait, why was he switching gears!? "...Well, it’s the case tape for my case. Cuz I'm sick of it, Y/N. I'm sick of all the lies. So I'm erasing all the bullshit my mom put into the heads of my siblings so they could lie and protect my dad and tell everyone that instead of beating the shit out of me, heck, all my injuries happened in a car accident. My God I just..." You almost paused the tape for a minute. HANG ON. Sally!?! Sally did this!? SALLY did all this!?! What the hell - you'd just let Nolan go to these people!?!? What had you done!?! "...Whatever. The point is, my well thought out plan hasn't exactly worked out. SO John, bigger man as ever, stuck me on a bus back to Miami… John, what a fucking saint he is… Guess he wants me dead, you won’t believe what happened at little Motel… Geez, why worry you with that? You’re gonna be worried enough…” There he was again, putting ideas in your head about who… or what had actually killed him. And although he was trying to reassure you and his kids were safe; you weren’t sure it was the drugs gangs he was really warning you about. It made you instantly wonder what might have been on those last two tapes. Danny had a way of talking that made you think it was the undertones he was hinting at you should really be listening to…“...Only he decided to put the idea in my head that the people I'm working for might have people up in Miami too. Well, that puts you in danger don't it? SO there is no FREAKIN' way I could have stayed. I needed to come back down here and fix this. So that's what I'm doing. Or hope I've done. But, Gezz, Baby if you're listening to this... I'm sorry it didn't work out that way... But I swear to God, you, the kids, everyone from Miami is safe... Because I'm not there. Ironically. I hope I get to destroy this thing. I hope I get to see you again. I hope that I get to tell you all this to your face on your balcony back in Miami and we can laugh about it, and you can call me a fucking idiot. Because I am. And I never have to see the Keys again..." You didn't like his wishful thinking, or him calling himself an idiot. Even if he was. This was the tape that essentially was him telling you he wasn't coming back. You didn't want him to end with him thinking of himself as anything less than perfect. Danny didn't deserve his lasting memory to be him dragging himself down. He was a better person than that - he always deserved better than he thought of himself. Than really ANYONE thought of him. "Y/N - I love you. I love you so much." There was a significant pause in the tape, you'd heard his voice crack, so you knew at the time of recording Danny was desperately trying to hold it together and not cry until he finished this. He had to be strong and finish this for you. Which is why you couldn't cry until you had finished listening to him. But it was coming.... "... I have never loved anybody the way I love you. I'm sorry I never got down on one knee, I'm sorry I never got to marry you..." God, now he was just making himself sad, he couldn't hide the deep shaky breath he took "...I'm sorry I never got to see Devan grow up." DANNY NO. You couldn't help it. You let out an uncontrollable sob and the first tear rolled down your cheek; it wasn’t alone for long "I'm so sorry Y/N.... But God, Baby Girl, you are the best thing I ever had. And I am the damned luckiest guy on the planet to have got to know you, to hold you, to love you for this long... Please just always remember, I'm here. I'm always going to be here. And I love you. I love being the better person you created. The relationship you share with Nolan. Every single time you looked out for me, or defended me, or just... Were real. Called me out. Kept me grounded..." Then he let himself laugh, which made you laugh through your tears "Thank you for loving me." There was another few seconds of static before the tape clicked. And you were left with silence and your tears. You leant forward on the steering wheel and let everything you'd been trying to keep bottled up inside you - become almost numb to - flood itself out. Danny why? Why did he have to end it like that? Why did he have to leave you with something so devastatingly beautiful...? Why did you already know that there was never going to be any getting over Danny Rayburn?  You gasped suddenly and placed your hands to your stomach. For one second you were shocked out of crying; and then only cried more as it happened again. These tears may well have been happy ones – at nearly 19 weeks your baby had just chosen the perfect moment to move for the very first time.

--- As usual I write Danny these really beautiful monologues that I can hear E-V-E-R-Y word of... and I just...

 @stcphstrange - One? Do we really only have ONE more part!? Oh god I’m so sorry...! I’m so so so sorry!!! @happyskywhale

Gosh... Danny, baby, I’m so sorry...  #DannyMoodBoard for Pt.9...  I want to use soooo many gifs now I need to stop myself... One to go... I can do this *takes a deep breath*

[la-knight]

BOOKS I (RE)READ IN 2018: FURTHERMORE BY TAHEREH MAFI

"Alice Alexis Queensmeadow, 12, rates three things most important: Mother, who wouldn’t miss her; magic and color, which seem to elude her; and Father, who always loved her. Father disappeared from Ferenwood with only a ruler, almost three years ago. But she will have to travel through the mythical, dangerous land of Furthermore, where down can be up, paper is alive, and left can be both right and very, very wrong. Her only companion is Oliver whose own magic is based in lies and deceit. Alice must first find herself—and hold fast to the magic of love in the face of loss." "Red was ruby, green was fluorescent, yellow was simply incandescent. Color was life. Color was everything. Color, you see, was the universal sign of magic." "Love, it turned out, could both hurt and heal." "Narrow-mindedness will only get you as far as Nowhere, and once you're there, you're lost forever.” "Alice was an odd girl, even for Ferenwood, where the sun occasionally rained and the colors were brighter than usual and magic was as common as a frowning parent." "Making magic is far more interesting than making sense." So I actually read this book a few months ago and then recently reread it via audio so I could remember all the details for this review. I was first introduced to Tahereh Mafi’s work through her book Shatter Me, her debut novel. Ironically, it wasn’t through any of the ways I normally hear about books - Booktube, Goodreads, my best friend, Booklr - but from my husband’s aunt. She runs - or used to run, not sure if she’s still doing it - a book review blog. And she posted a review of Shatter Me and I was like, “What a weird, interesting writing style, lemme check this out.” At this point the entire Shatter Me Trilogy plus novellas had been published and I devoured all of them (still need to review those, too). So when I heard Tahereh Mafi was writing a middle grade book, I got super excited! Especially because this was during a time when I was too stressed out to read any YA, since most of the YA I like involves having to save the world and all the stress that entails. I need to lay out some trigger warnings real quick: the main character, Alice? Her mom is incredibly abusive, both emotionally and physically. It’s treated as not such a big deal in the book, which is honestly the story’s only real flaw, but it’s bad. It took me seven tries and resorting to an audiobook (and even with a fantastic narrator, that short audiobook took me almost a month to get through) because the abuse was so bad. So:

TRIGGER WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS EMOTIONAL AND PHYSICAL ABUSE OF A CHILD BY THEIR PARENT

Let’s get started, yo! First of all, the setting. OMG. See, I love tthis thing called Victorian fairy tales, which is something you can find in books like Mary Poppins - these super fantastical bits of whimsy that just warm your heart and make you grin because they’re so creative and fun. In the Mary Poppins books, you can jump into chalk drawings and go to a circus amidst the stars and make friends with a woman who sells living candy-cane horses. In Catherynne Valente’s Fairyland series, there are shadow balls and talking phonographs. And in Furthermore, there’s light raining down from the sky in literal drops, sticks of magic you use like money, and forests full of invisible berries. The way the world is put together and described, so full of color and imagination, is awesome and beautiful and I could picture it perfectly. It reminded me in all the best ways of books like The Phantom Tollbooth (one of my favorites). But I wouldn’t want to live there, because Ferenwood is full of colorism and ick. Alice, the female lead, is an albino in a world where color is important and the darker you are, the more magical you’re considered to be. So Alice gets treated like garbage. 

Also I think Alice may be autistic, but I don’t know if she’s deliberately coded autistic or if Tahereh Mafi did it by accident while trying to make Alice eccentric, but she comes across as autistic. I’ve actually begun to pay more attention to that sort of the thing in recent years, being autistic myself, and I see it a lot - authors giving their characters autistic characteristics, often without meaning to. I just touch on it here because Alice is already treated badly for being albino, but she’s also considered a freak because of the way she behaves - like an autistic preteen. And I wonder if Tahereh Mafi did that on purpose as a sort of commentary or not, because while Alice is treated badly by the people of Ferenwood for her behavior, the Narrator (who is an actual character in the story; love when that happens) always sides with Alice in this regard. The storyline is sweet and I love it. Alice tries to compete in the magical testing all the preteens do on their twelfth birthday, and so she dances. And her dancing is magical but it’s not Magical, you know? So she fails the test. Well, turns out a boy who passed the test the year before, Oliver (the brat), needs Alice’s help fulfilling a quest - rescuing Alice’s missing dad. So they go on a quest together, although Alice hates Oliver (and rightly so, he’s rude). They go to a dozen different and cool places, all of which are dangerous and all of which are different. I wish we could’ve spent more time in those places but I understand why we didn’t. The only annoying thing is there’s an origami fox on the cover but it only pops up in one of the worlds for like two pages and then it’s gone and I thought we could spend more time both in that world and with that creature since it ended up on the cover. But alas, not. I understand why - middle grade is often cursed to be short, especially if it’s the author’s first MG novel ever. Once you get big and bad like Rick Riordan you can start tossing out gihugic tomes like Son of Neptune or Blood of Olympus on the regular. Oliver’s reason for needing Alice was one I didn’t see coming, nor was her magical talent - a talent they hint at throughout the book but never explain until near the end, at the perfect moment. I thought it was an interesting commentary on how young girls perceive themselves, that Alice hates this marvelous, amazing talent she has of bringing color into the world from nothing...because she can’t use it to change how she looks. Society has trained her already, by the age of twelve, to discount something incredible about herself because she can’t use it to make herself into what society wants her to be. That’s pretty impressive for a book this short. I loved some of the more deliberate messages in the work - the thing I mentioned about society’s pressures on young girls, and also that it’s okay to tell boys to screw off if they’re mean to you, and to have hope and to look for second chances (Alice thinks she only has one chance to pass the test and believes her life is over when she fails, only to find out she can try again the next year). I love all of that, and the lyrical and whimsical quality of the prose, and the world building is so creative and also makes me a bit hungry (people eat magic in this book, among other things; I wonder what it tastes like). Now...let’s talk about the abuse. That’s my biggest issue with the book. Alice’s mother is a total bitch. And not in a cool, kickass way like the lady in the show Empire. She’s vicious, she’s cruel, and she’s abusive. Alice knows - and the Narrator confirms - that she turned bad when her husband went missing, and apparently the worry for him and the strain of raising four kids on her own is making her hard and sad, but I don’t give a shit. I was hoping Tahereh Mafi would’ve gone all Hansel and Gretel on this lady and when Alice comes home with her dad, the wife’s dead or something. She beats Alice (at one point she beat Alice for chasing a boy out of the place where she was sleeping, even though he kept staring at her in her sleeping clothes, because apparently the boy - Oliver - had the right to break into their barn at 3AM and ogle Alice???), she verbally abuses Alice, she sends her to bed regularly without dinner, is constantly criticizing, won’t hug her or kiss her, and - this one really got me, for some reason - forces her to do illegal things. Those invisible berries I mentioned? Alice can find them and bring back whole baskets because of her magical gift, and so her mom sends her out to pick them all the time. If she brings home enough, her mom smiles. If she doesn’t, her mom yells and calls her names and sometimes beats her. Guess what? Picking those berries is illegal. We don’t find this out until much later in the book, but it is. The thing I didn’t like about the berries is that Oliver, who’s thirteen, is less concerned about Alice’s mother beating her for not picking enough contraband berries and instead focuses on how her ability to find the berries in the first place means Alice has really impressive magic. NOBODY seems to care how much Alice is being abused, not even the Narrator. The Narrator sympathizes with Alice’s hurt feelings and despair over her missing Father, but it’s never objectively stated that her mom is abusing her AND SHE IS. Yeah, her mom is sooo glad to have her back after Alice almost dies on her trip with Oliver, but so what? My roommate’s mom is so abusive that my roommate’s clergy leaders, doctors, and psychological therapist all said my roommate needed to cut ties with said mom, even though my roommate’s mom has also exhibited the same kind of “oh baby I’m so sorry, I love you so much” bullshit. That’s what abusers do. So I hate Alice’s mom. She literally makes her daughter feel like if she doesn’t risk her life numerous times AND bring her father back, there is no chance her mother will ever love her. And if she pulls that stuff off (which she does), then MAYBE her mother will love her. Nuh-uh. Nope. Hate that bitch. Other than that, I really loved this book. The characters felt real (Alice is me, but without my anger), Even the ones I didn’t like were still REAL, and well-drawn. The world building and word choice is fantastic. Basically, if you can get past the evil mom, read this book. World Building: 1 star Realism: 1 star Word Choice: 1 star Plot: 1 star Characterization: 1 star - ¼ star because Oliver Newbanks is an obnoxious little creep - 1 star because the mom is AN ABUSIVE EVIL BITCH - ¼ star because NOBODY DOES ANYTHING ABOUT THAT +½ star because Alice is amazing and has a genius brain and I love her Total score: 4/5 stars Would I Buy It: Yes! I own it and loved it enough I got the sequel for Christmas (in...2017...I've been sitting on this review for months...)! Would I Recommend: yes, but with trigger warnings. Again, highly abusive evil bitch mom who somehow doesn’t die.

[ourdallasvideofestthings]

Bart Chat  9/14/2020

Greetings all,

I hope you are safe and sound and you enjoyed the Topaz Festival, last week.

This Friday begins the new year for us Jews. It’s a time to reflect on the year, on our lives, our shortcomings, and our hope for what the new year could bring. I’ve been on this planet now for 67 years and I’ve never experienced a year like this one. I hope next year will be much better for all of us—for our health and the health of our country. I hope we can be together, in person and I hope that we can think of zoom in reference to cinematography and not a daily meeting platform. Wishing you peace and good health in 5781.

We are getting into busy times here at VideoFest. On October 1st, we will have our first ever Drive-in/Online hybrid of DocuFest. Boy, do we have some great films for you. On top of the upcoming festival, the Frame of Mind series officially starts next Thursday night with a very special program we call “At the Crossroads…Again,” a look at 40 years of racial issues in the Dallas/Forth Worth area.

But this Thursday, we have an unofficial Frame of Mind called “Building the American Dream” which will be shown several times throughout the week on KERA. This film, by Chelsea Hernandez, shows the human cost to the buildings we see coming up around Dallas and throughout Texas. We see workers whose salaries are stolen by their bosses and we follow the fight to have water breaks, leading to one very saddening and maddening exchange in a Dallas City Council meeting. Please check this out.

Let me tell you about one of the films we will be showing at DocuFest Drive-in. Opening Night, we are showing a film I’ve been hearing about for a long time. Miles Hargrove documented, with his Video8 camcorder, the harrowing battle to get his father back from being kidnapped by the FARC in 1994. He has finally gone through this footage to create this magnificent film with so many twists and turns. This is a rare look inside what it means for a family to negotiate for a loved one’s life. Like many films, this was supposed to show at in-person festivals, but we’re proud to bring it to you here, where Miles lives and works in the film business.

We end the drive-in experience with a new film from Mark Birnbaum called PROOF, about the photographer Byrd Williams IV. As well as sharing his name with the other Byrds, he shares their passion for photography. This Byrd is obsessed with old heavy analog cameras and preserving the photos of the other Byrds. It’s a beautiful cinematic portrait.

In between these films, we have films about Chuck Berry, Herb Alpert, Jimmy Carter, Josephine Baker, and James Baldwin. We also have films about the opioid crisis, how corporations have changed (and not in a good way—this from the maker of the corporation), how tipped workers are getting screwed, missing bodies in Brooks County, Pepe the Frog and don't forget the spirit-lifting, CatFest. I’ll share more information on the festival next week.

This week, on Cinematic Conversation we are going to be talking about Fellini’s Amarcord. Our guest is someone I have wanted to have on since I came up with the idea of the series. Scott Churchill has been teaching at the University of Dallas, well, for a long time. He writes and talks about film and this week he will talk to us, yeah!

Amarcord is streaming for free on HBO Max, The Criterion Channel, or Kanopy. You can also find it for 3.99 at Amazon and a few other places. It’s a semi-autobiographical film. I have not seen it since 1973, so I’m looking forward to seeing it again and talking about it with you as usual at 7:30 CT on Zoom.

I have a few suggestions for things to watch on Netflix this week. The Social Dilemma goes into great detail about how social media has affected us in ways that are truly anti-democratic and unhealthy for our world. I almost didn’t watch this because there is another good doc about this called The Great Hack, which is also on Netflix, and I thought the message would be the same. However, this film features the people who developed these platforms discussing the hazards of their creations. We think we know why people around the world are so divided, but this film helps us understand why and how.

Also on Netflix is Capital in the 21st Century, a film that gives us an Econ 101 lesson on how capital has affected the world. The way Justin Pemberton visualized the concepts in the book written by Thomas Piketty is powerful and helps us better understand economic theory. To be honest, I wanted to show this at DocuFest, but it’s on Netflix. We will do a Cinematic Conversation about this film soon. #NTxGivingDay #txartsaree #DVF33DocuFest

[skyruemonroe]

A draft:

Xylvia’s Teenage Angst: Narra Prologue

Thirty six years ago, Xylvia July was shown her birthworld, Narran. She was accompanied by her family. Her step brother and father were from Earth, meaning this world had marvels beyond their wildest imagination. Xylvia fell in love, but her eight year old brother whined and tugged on her braids every time she took time to admire the brilliant and glistening glass buildings, the roads paved with dried clay in a smooth manner as opposed to Earth’s bricks. Her dark brown skin shined gorgeously underneath the two Narran suns. The air was fresh and untainted with anything other than pollen, but her stepfather was wasting it by using it to flirt with her mother and try to play “father” with her. It had always just been her and her mother, they were fine alone together. Now everything was changing and Xylvia hated it. 

To distract herself from her family she went sightseeing. The palace in the capital was the most breathtaking of it all. There lived the queen, Queen Moonstars. The palace was the only building made from Earth’s stone and mortar. Xylvia wondered if the queen perhaps had the same experience as her: Born in Narran and raised on Earth. 

Because of this, she longed to visit the palace, and meet the queen but everytime she tried, some Narra with bodies of stems, bark and leaves were demonstrating. 

“We deserve to be heard!” They protested in unison. The leader of the Nature Narra was raised up on a bed of flowers suspended by vines. They led the chants of people through a wooden cone.

The human girl in the mix strutted up to one of the protesters and tapped them on the shoulder. “Excuse me! What’s going on!”

The Nature Narra she tapped spun around, “The queen wants to turn us into slaves and silence us. We are fighting against it. Will you join us?”

“Um, I’m sorry, I don’t...live here,” Xylvia took a couple steps back and ran off. How was she supposed to believe those things when this world was so beautiful. The ruler of all this wonder couldn’t be bad, couldn’t be an enslaver or right restrictor, right? On Earth the bad leaders turned cities into smog and smoke lounges. This world was nothing like that. Plus there weren’t that many demonstrators, she figured if a whole race was threatened to be enslaved then the whole race would fight back. It probably was some conspiracy theories supplied by those who didn’t like taxes or something. Did they have taxes in Narran?

Xylvia stopped by the castle everyday waiting for the noisy protesters to disperse so she could see a tour of the palace and perhaps request to meet the queen. After the disappointment of seeing the palace courtyard occupied, she strode to the libraries and museums. She spent hours in books written with burn marks on sheets of sturdy gord paper, written in water colors, squid ink and spelled out in crystals. The records were gorgeous, Xylvia couldn’t help but dig deeper and deeper. 

While exploring her birthworld’s history she learned the Nature Narra were in control of Narran’s most valuable resources, all the flora and fauna. However, instead of allowing all Narra to use their resources to advance society, they used them in savage ways and are rioting against peace treaties. It then dawned on her the rioters weren’t only inconveniencing her, but ruining this entire world. 

Next time Xylvia passed the Nature Narra, she knew they were sneaky vines trying to strangle the life out of the beautiful. The glare on her face attracted some Narran Army recruiters. Two guards approached her, both with bodies made entirely of water. At first Xylvia was panicked she had done wrong, then the guards handed her a flyer, “Hello, young soldier, we need people like you to fight against the Vines. The queen is looking for world jumpers and humans alike to serve in her army.”

The bottom of the flyer fluttered in the breeze as Xylvia held the middle and scanned through it. “What’s in it for the soldiers?” She crossed her arms and looked up to them with a raised eyebrow and shifted her weight to the left. 

“It depends on how you serve the queen,” the guard to the right responded. “The best soldiers receive the best rewards. For instance, the higher you rank the better housing, power and money you acquire.”

Xylvia hmmed for a moment. She checked both of those boxes. She was human and she jumped through worlds and dimensions with her mother until she met Jared Monroe on Earth. Xylvia crumpled the flyer in her hand. Before Xylvia even knew this man well enough she was shoved in a room with his four year old kid. This was a chance to fight for a life she wanted to live and win. “How do I sign up?”

On the date for enlistment, she had stormed out of her mother’s hotel room straight to the palace courtyard. She expected to find the guards sitting at the recruit table, but instead the queen herself was atop the staircase in a blue ball gown and red cape. She was flanked by guards formed of fire or water, but somehow not sliding through the blue and red sheen armor they brandished. With a wave of her hand a flaming guard spewed fire out of their molten hands, burning those of the vine leader. The people screamed and scattered.

Xylvia stayed put until the vines were gone. She watched in shock as the leader crumbled into ash and the platform it was using to raise itself followed soon after. She couldn’t help but admire the use of power. Why was the queen looking for world jumpers and humans when she already had such an effective way of weeding out the offenders. 

“Ah your highness,” one of the water guards approached Xylvia, “this is the one we told you about. The young soldier with potential.” 

It was a few weeks of questions with the queen. Xylvia knew her mother was going to take some convincing, but to Xylvia’s relief the queen quickly smoothed it over.  When she asked how, Queen Moonstars explained it’s Xylvia’s job to serve Narran...as someone who was born there. Before she could officially register the new life she was entering the queen had put her in what had had to be the gorgeous room of the planet, and her family had returned to Earth. 

In the years to come, Xylvia learned of strategy. Take down a leader, the rest will scramble. Show the offenders’ lack of worth and the defense will band together. She learned of the different weapons in development meant to put an end to vines. When she was first deployed, she took out vine agglomerates closer to the inside of the capital where the disdain for them was strongest. 

Amongst the nematode bombs and flamethrowers, she met a human man with bright red hair. His name was Resonance July. He was tall and lanky, a bit eccentric, but he made the daily job more exciting and the night less lonely. 

“So you’re a world jumper?” Resonance asked, reloading the pink tubes that would drill into the ground to pump lead into the homes of nature narra. They were sitting by a bonfire roasting berries in a tin. Their fragrance wafted through the air. 

“No, I was born here,” Xylvia responded, taking out bread made at the last Narran dominated primarily by metal and fire narra. “But I was raised on Earth.”

“So was I. In Frida, California. Do you miss it?” Resonance began sealing off the tubes by screwing them back into his gun. 

“No way! I’m from Frida too. Well...my mother lives there with her family...but no...I don’t miss it I didn’t really feel like I was home there.” Xylvia sighed and pulled a knife with a diamond carved into the hilt. She cut some of the bread. 

“Neither did I, I guess the outstanding on Earth find each other in Narran, eh?” He asked, putting his gun beside the log he was sitting on. He got up and moved over to Xylvia’s. 

“Yeah, they do. No one can hate us for being who we are here, we’re the heroes. No one can force us to leave.” As Xylvia hated how her mother forced her into new lifestyles as a child, she hated Earth even more. Xylvia had dark, beautiful skin, but that world treated her as if it were a weapon. 

“Right No one can harass or make fun of me here because everyone respects us.” Resonance was autistic, back on Earth he was ridiculed, teased and well...dehumanized. Here they see him as a genius, as someone extraordinary. He looked to Xylvia as she smeared the warm jam over bread slices and smiled. Her movements were so fluid. She glowed in the fire light and the length of her braids dangled over her shoulders, giving her this gentle innocence. 

Xylvia nodded in response. “It’s nice to have someone who gets it,” She looked to him with the corners of her lips ticking up just a bit. She handed him a finished slice of bread. “You know you did a really good job today, taking out those Legume Nature Narra, they were especially hardy.”

“Oh? Thanks Xylv.” Resonance eyes shot open as he realized what he did. “I mean General Diamond.”

“Xylv is fine, I like it,” Xylvia shrugged, biting into the flakey bread. 

After that night, Xylvia would wake up with him on her mind after dreaming of him at night. Her closest friend in the army and wizard world jumper, Samuel Play had noted what was happening and would spend their free time between nematode bombing to tease her. 

“So you and Resonance huh?”

“Shut up.”

After work, Xylvia and Resonance would learn about each other and tumble into deeper conversations. Soon their team work was of the utmost admirability. They finished each other's eradications the way they finished sentences.  Falling in love wasn’t the plan for Xylvia, but it happened. 

The war ended, and Samuel retired from the military and fell in love with a woman named and had a child with her named Thomas, Thomas Play . Xylvia wanted to retire also then start a new life, a stable life with Resonance.  That’s when the Royal Scientist, Morgan Clay delivered the news. 

“Your highness, I finally made a breakthrough with our Nature Narra Research.” Royal Scientist, Morgan Clay burst into the royal office and approached the queen’s desk setting down several graphs and diagrams in front of her. 

“Our research?” The queen dared with a raised eyebrow. “I mean your...research you highness.” Morgan submissively bowed his head and took a step back from the queen. 

“Right. After all, I am the one who funded it because I believe in your competence.”

“Sorry your highness.”

“No fret my gem, continue with the news.” The queen waved her hand. 

The royal scientist perked up once again. “When Nature Narra wilt, they release three orbs filled with genetic material and chemical elements required for spawning Narran life.”

“Do they only release upon age induced wilting or other causes?” Moonstars inquired further. 

“Both your highness.” 

“Lieutenant General Diamond, tell the General to bare branches.”

Xylvia had wanted to inform the queen of her choice to retire, to start a life where her future child could decide if they wanted to be in the military or not. 

“Already? But your highness, there’s so much more we could learn-,” Morgan interjected. 

“Ah, I hired you to investigate, not advise Dr. Clay,” The queen snapped. “Leave now.”

With that Morgan Clay left. Xylvia opened her mouth to tell the queen, but she was cut off with a wave of the queen’s hand. 

Xylvia rushed out, blinking back the tears in her eyes. “Xylv!” Resonance ran into Xylvia in one of the palace hallways and offered her the head of a daffodil. “I found this wonderful neighborhood in Starry, Pennsylvania back on Earth. We can start there-”

“.When we’ve survived uprooted every last one of those damn vines, we’ll move to Starry.”

Xylvia and Resonance along with other world jumpers survived the one sided war. They took part in mass eradication of all Nature Narra not just close to the capital but all throughout the world. As soon as all was done Xylvia and Resonance ran to Starry, Pennsylvania to start their life together.

A couple years after the war, Xylvia gave birth to a baby girl named Imerical Janet July. All was splendid, they were a family. Xylvia had her stability, a new life she chose to live, but it was ripped from underneath her when she heard the ripping sound of a dimensional ridge. World Jumpers. Could it be her mother? Samuel had relocated to Earth with Thomas after his wife went missing. It couldn’t be them. Alert, Xylvia snatched a children’s tennis racket off the table and approached the living room. “Who is it?” She called out from behind the door.

“Morgan Clay.”

Dread pooled in Xylvia’s chest as she slowly opened the door. 

“I’m sorry to do this lieutenant general, but Queen Moonstars orders you return to Narran and surrender your daughter to the capital as all continuees of your bloodline and all parties born in Narran are obligate to-” Morgan’s voice was drowning out as the panic and Xylvia’s mind grew louder. Just as quickly as the queen had told her mother that Xylvia could and was obligated to serve Narran, they were back in Narran standing before the queen. 

“I have the most exciting news, Lieutenant General. Do you remember why I had chosen to bare branches?” 

“Yes, the  Nature Narra release those orbs upon wilting. We were using them so all of Narra could have natural resources.”

“Yes, but unfortunately there was an oversight by Dr. Clay. No more vines means no one to control the flora and fauna. So we’re using some of the remaining orbs to turn your daughter into a genetically engineered Nature Narra. She will be Narran’s savior. Just as you were. Is that not incredible?”

Xylvia clasped her hand over her mouth. She couldn't express this was a terror, but her heart wouldn’t let her lie. “Excuse me your highness,” she choked out.

On the day of the surgery, only Imerical’s doctor, Morgan Clay accompanied her. Her parents were too overcome with having...a vine...for a daughter. 

Chapter 1

“So Imerical it’s a big day!” Morgan Clay, the royal scientist walked into the room where Imerical sat on a long, cushioned table in a hospital gown with cutesy succulents decorating it.

“Yes, yes it is. “Imerical beamed. Today was her first mission after finishing years of combat and diplomatic training. She was now being deployed into Narran to help rectify the messes Nature Narra had left behind before they destroyed themselves.She sat fidgeting with the long strings of her robe, ready to head to the train station and ride that glass box all the way to the town of fishes. She couldn’t wait to see the smile on their faces when she arrived to take out the monster plaguing their town with destructive fits. “Can you tell me about the mission?”  Morgan asked while equipping himself with a needle and sanitizing the top of it. 

“Whoa,” Imerical put her hands up looking up at the needle. “Is that //more// immunosuppressive drugs? Is my human side still rejecting my plant side?” Imerical asked, kicking her feet back and forth as they dangled over the tilted floor. 

“No no, it’s been thirteen years since your surgery. Your body stabilized at the ten year mark, but you’ll be using your florakinesis a lot more, so this’ll make sure your body can handle growing in both your human and nature narra form.” Morgan lied. 

“Oh, thank you! You really are the expert of transition surgery,” she giggled.  Imerical sat up straight, watching as Morgan wiped her skin with an alcohol wipe. “I’m supposed to incapacitate a beast that keeps stomping water narra into the ground. It’s large and made mostly out of cherry bark,” Imerical elaborated, wincing as the needle broke her skin.

“Yes, yes I am,” Morgan rolled his eyes endearingly. “Alrighty July, you’re good to go, anything else you wanted to talk about or address while we’re here?”

“Nope. Thank you so much Morgan,” With that Morgan waved and left the patient room. Imerical hopped down from the table and dashed over to the rack where her uniform was hanging. It was red plants, a blue tee shirt and green jacket fashioned with the daffodil epaulets she received at her graduation. For a moment, she stood there remembering it: 

Imerical looked straight ahead, eyes focused on the back of the room, the large oakwood doors loomed over the pews made of glass. Thomas, her closest friend pressed the Narran flag corners down. The red to the right shoulder and blue to the left. The queen stooped to pick up daffodil shaped epaulets from a purple cushion. She pressed them down onto the respective shoulders, and then stepped aside to present Imerical. 

The entire ordeal felt like a dream. Then there was when Imerical walked into her palace room for the first time: 

The walls were a shimmering shade of rose gold. The closet! Oh it was gigantic and a walk-in. There was an array of ballroom dresses, shorts, jackets, Narran uniforms and-Imerical gasped. In the undergarment section of their closet there were a series of light brown binders, Clothing that made their chest flatter. How had the queen managed not only to get these, but the right shade of brown? Imerical sighed happily and spun around until she landed on the silky and satin bedding. Imerical brought the sheets to her face and squealed. 

Now, in the present, Imerical was headed to shooting off to the queen’s office. She traveled through the halls draped with velvet curtains and lit with candles. Imerical didn’t quite understand the choice to use candles when they had electricity, but the queen said it was how she wanted her hallways to look. Imerical felt it was ominous and a bit eerie. Those thoughts were washed away by surprise as she entered the queen’s office. There stood the queen and Thomas, he looked pale as if he just had something wicked wash through him. “Good morning your highness,” Imerical greeted Thomas,  putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” She asked, turning him towards her. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Thomas straightened up. “Just nervous about the mission today.” He lied. 

“We’ve got this, we’ll be fine! Right your highness?”

Queen Moonstars turned her previous glare into one of pride. “Absolutely my darling!” So I expect you both have come to recieve your itinerary and train tickets?” She asked with a smile. She pushed to collections of paper forward, one to Imerical and one to Thomas. “Here you are my gems!” 

Imerical and Thomas took their respective folders. Thomas, expecting a briefing found a cryptid note telling him to stay after Imerical left. 

“Alrighty then!” Imerical cheerfly declared. “I’ve finished packing, I’m going to start heading to the train station. Thank you Queen Moonstars.” She began walking to the door after a wave from the queen, but stopped when Thomas didn’t follow. “Are you coming Toma?” 

“Yeah! I’ll meet you at the gates. Catch ya in a minute.” With that, Imerical left and Thomas was alone with the steely gaze of the queen. 

“Morgan put her on new drugs this morning. Most of the hate will be turned to praise, but hate crimes are going to be more vicious in the countryside. You can’t let her see anything. Use your magic to shield her. If she discovers  the truth, she’ll be less willing to serve me, that would result in your immediate termination. Don’t disappoint me, son.”

“Understood your highness. Please don’t call me son,” he requested. He knew his mom was still out there somewhere and he didn’t want the queen to steal that role from her. 

Thomas met Imerical at the glass train station. He remembered the first time he met Imerical, when they were kids. She was mystified at how everything was made of glass and the train traveled by the will of Wind Narra. It was incredible coming from Earth Thomas supposed, but he had only left on Earth for five years and he barely remembered them. 

The wind whistled through the glass building surrounding and jostled Imerical’s bright red curls about and the bright sun highlighted her green eyes. She sat down on the train station bench and pulled a small tin out of her backpack labeled Cream Bops, tiny little drop shaped wafers with various types of cream flavoring. 

“Can I have the chocolate ones?” Thomas asked, checking his watch for the train. Its blue hologram ticked down from 3 minutes. “Nevermind I’ll just wait till we get on the train.”

“Alrighty, but Thomas, why did you stay behind? Are you getting a promotion?” She raised and lowered her eyebrows teasingly and moved in closer. 

“No,” Thomas pushed Imerical’s face away with two fingers. “She just checked in to make sure I was okay,” Thomas lied.

“Ah,” Imerical smiled. “She’s so awesome, and she really cares about us y’know?” Imerical flopped back into the bench just as the train arrived causing her to put the lid back on her cream bops and shove them into her bag. 

The glass doors of the train slid open; Imerical and Thomas walked on. 

Imerical was quiet for most of the train ride. She stared outside, frowning on the barren landscapes. The original nature narra were so selfish. If they hadn’t detsroyed one another, this land would still be flourishing and Narran would be progressing at a steady pace. As the wind whistled through dry top soil and pale tree stumps, Imerical grew excited about the work ahead of her. She had to regrow a planet, this world was depending on her. She was the hero. There was no more going back and forth between Earth and Narran. On Earth, she didn’t fit in. America was a black or white world and she’s black and white...She didn’t fit in. Not only that, but there was something, Imerical could never tell what it was, but she always felt on the outside looking in. She felt as if she made real connections with the people she reached out to. She felt isolated. That could be because she was constantly going between worlds or maybe it was because of something else, something Imerical didn’t understand yet. 

The hero was snapped out of her daydreams as a passerby on the train whispered, “Beautiful flower.”

“Thank you!” Imerical beamed with a sweet wave then slumped back in her chair, feeling a little dizzy as her vision went from focused to blurry to focused causing her to just miss the shocked face of the stranger and Thomas’s grimace.