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sleepykittypaws · 3 years

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Celebrate the Olympic Spirit

Sure, the Olympics aren’t a holiday, per se, but the every-four-year, or two if you count both Summer and Winter editions separately, massive international sporting events sure seems like a reason to celebrate, especially given their recent, unprecedented delay. And what better way to get into the Games mood, than by watching a sports movie?

Here are my favorite motivating, inspirational, and aspirational tales of athletic derring do…

Favorite Sports Movies

The Cutting Edge (1992) - This figure skating romance was released around the 1992 Olympics, and actually name-checks that year's winter host city, Albertville, more than once. It's not good in the traditional sense of great storytelling or athletic veracity, but I loved it so very much I saw it three times in the theater as a teen. Watching it at some point during every Winter Games is a tradition for me so, yeah, I can’t help it, I love this silly sports movie/romance, which also features a bit of holiday feels.

Wimbledon (2004) - It's a rom-com. It's a sports movie. It's a rom-com sports movie that really should be better known. Notting Hill but set at tennis' best-known event. Paul Bettany and Kristen Dunst have surprisingly great chemistry, and there's more sports-related tension than you'd think.

Friday Night Lights (2004) - A football movie for people who don't really like football. a.k.a. 🙋‍♀️. The TV series it spawned is also brilliant (”Clear Eyes, Full Hearts,” indeed), and well worth a watch, but the original movie, starring Billy Bob Thornton, is, honestly, a masterpiece. Definitely Peter Berg's best work and the original book, written by Berg's cousin, Buzz Bissinger, is a great read.

Muriel's Wedding (1994) - You mean you forgot this Australian export, which made Toni Collette a star, was a sports movie? Yep, one of my all-time favorite movies, of any genre, this absolutely brilliant, ABBA-soaked comedy is not only a girls-night go-to, but also a stealth Olympic sport classic.

Remember the Titans (2000) - OK, football isn't in the Olympics, but it sure does make for a good sports movie setting. Even if this early 1970s-set story is most definitely Disney-fied, Denzel Washington, Will Patton, Ryan Gosling and a baby Hayden Panettiere really sell this sort-of true story.

Invictus (2009)-Rugby isn't an Olympic sport, or even one most Americans know much about, but this Matt Damon-led, Clint Eastwood-directed, based-on-a-true-story tale made me care about a sport I'd only tangentially knew even existed before watching.

Hoosiers (1986)-I grew up in Indiana so, by law, I have to include this basketball classic on any "best of" sports movie lists. Also, it actually is really very good.

Rudy (1993)-Ditto the above. But, again, it's hard not to root for Sean Astin (and Jon Favreau!) in this love letter to the Fighting Irish. Plus, there’s no better scavenger hunt task or TikTok challenge than going into a bar and convincing a patron to allow you to put them on your shoulders and march around chanting, 'Rudy, Rudy, Rudy.'

Miracle (2004) - Given how much more popular the Summer Olympics are, it's weird that the Winter Games seem to get all the good movies made about them, but this Kurt Russell-led true tale is another Disney sports movie classic.

McFarland, USA (2015) - Disney, and Kevin Costner, just really know how to make a sports movie, damn it! This movie made me care about cross country for which it, too, could have carried the title Miracle.

A League of Their Own (1992)-The best baseball movie ever. Yeah, I said what I said. Tom Hanks, Geena Davis, Lori Petty—even Madonna and Rosie O'Donnell are making it work. 1992 was a weirdly great year for sports movies.

Moneyball (2011) - A movie about baseball, and math, and yet it's also great, I swear. In addition to all of the above, it's also a stealth Christmas movie and maybe Chris Pratt's best non-Marvel, movie role.

Creed (2015) - This surprisingly effective Rocky reboot starring Michael B Jordan as Apollo Creed's illegitimate son has spawned its own movie series which, in many ways, exceeds the original Rocky franchise.

Rocky Balboa (2006) - Maybe it's because I was a toddler when the original Rocky came out, so only saw the ever-worse sequels as a kid, but this mid-aughts return to the character for Sylvester Stallone, as both writer and actor, is a triumph.

Eddie the Eagle (2016) - That Hugh Jackman features in as many movies (spoiler alert) on this list as Kevin Costner surprised me, too. This story of the English ski jumper who became infamous for being, well, less than golden, is one of those non-Olympic triumph stories that really works. If you're going to watch one underdog-at-the-Games movie, I definitely prefer this this to the more ubiquitous Cool Runnings.

Love & Basketball (2000) - Only because I'm an anglophile is this great, chemistry-filled Sanaa Lathan and Omar Epps college basketball romance not my favorite sports-movie-meets-rom-com.

I, Tonya (2017) - Margot Robbie and a nearly unrecognizable Sebastian Stan are perfectly cast in this sarcastic, highly stylized look at the Tonya Harding scandal.

Pride (2007) - Apparently I like this swimming movie, which I think almost no one saw, better than critics, but I found this 1970s-set, Terrence Howard-Bernie Mac-starring story of inner city kids excelling in the pool emotional and entertaining.

Field of Dreams (1989) - This Kevin Costner magical realism baseball classic is often goofy and imminently tease-worthy and yet…It also works. Maybe it's no surprise that someone who loves cheesy Christmas movies as much as I do would have a soft spot for Field of Dreams.

42 (2013) - Chadwick Boseman is absolutely fantastic as legend Jackie Robinson. One of those movies that's ostensibly about baseball, but is really about so much more, except not in a pretentious way.

Race (2016) - Before Jason Sudeikis was Ted Lasso, he was famed track coach Larry Synder in this Jesse Owens biopic that is far from perfect, but still important. Plus, I honestly don't think Stephan James got enough credit for his relatively nuanced portrayal of Owens.

Goon (2011) - This overlooked gem starring Sean William Scott as a semi-pro hockey player whose main skill is his ability to take, and dole out, a beating, is surprisingly great.

Real Steel (2011) - This is a robot-boxing movie starring Hugh Jackman that is basically Rocky meets Over the Top—and yet it's actually really good. Yeah, I was surprised, too.

Forget Paris (1995) - OK, so maybe Billy Crystal playing an NBA referee doesn't really make this a sports movie, but it does begin and end (spoiler alert) at real NBA games, and I will die on the hill that this rom-com co-starring Debra Winger is wildly under-rated.

Bend it like Beckham (2002) - This girl-power sports movie has some highly questionable romantic dynamics (the coach is their love interest???) but this Parminder Nagra-Keira Knightley movie is also a heckuva sports movie and an inspiring immigrant story.

Bonus Pick: The Apple TV+ series Ted Lasso is one of the best things I watched in 2020, and I'm sure of that, because I watched it twice since, just to be sure. Jason Sudekis is absolutely perfect as an American college football coach taking over a UK Premier League team. This sweet show with a heart of gold is smart, funny, and absolutely impossible not to love—even for a cynic such as myself.

More Sports Movies Worth Watching

For someone not very into sports, I am, apparently, into watching movies about sports, so while not a comprehensive listing of the entire, vast genre, here are a few more suggestions I personally think are worth watching.

The Miracle Season (2018) - This movie about high school volleyball champs whose star player dies suddenly stars Helen Hunt and is a lot better than you'd think based on its tiny budget and, honestly, fairly small story. Just missed making my Top 25.

The Way Back (2020) - This Ben Affleck as a drunken high school basketball coach movie is a lot better than expected. Released just as the pandemic kicked into high gear, it was overlooked last year, but worth seeking out.

Fighting with My Family (2019) - Does it count if it's a show, not a sport? Either way (but that's why this isn't in my Top 25), this stealth Christmas movie/love letter to the WWE is a lot better than it ever needed to be thanks to some really great performances from Florence Pugh, Lena Headey and directer Stephen Merchant. Even The Rock reins it in.

Warrior (2011) - You couldn't pay me to watch an actual UFC bout, but this Tom Hardy story of (literally) battling brothers is incredibly compelling and well done.

Win Win (2011) - This movie isn't really enough about wrestling, even though its ostensibly centered around the sport, to make it into my Top 25, but it's still really good, and Amy Ryan gives an outstanding performance.

Fever Pitch (2005) - Drew Barrymore and Jimmy Fallon star in this remake of a UK film whose ending they had to shift when the Red Sox unexpectedly won the World Series.

Fever Pitch (1997) - This Colin Firth-starring, Arsenal-centered original is much smaller, more realistic and arguably better than the big budget Barrymore-Fallon redux.

We are Marshall (2006) - A real-life sports tragedy made into a sports-movie tearjerker starring Matthew McConaughy. And my tears were very much jerked by the end.

Coach Carter (2005) - Samuel L Jackson plays real-life basketball coach Ken Carter and, because it's a Disney movie, doesn't use the F-word even once. Now that's a feat worthy of its own sports movie.

Invincible (2006) - Yes, it's Mark Wahlberg, and another based-on-a-true-story, Disney sports movie that hits all the cliches, but dang it, that works on me. It just does.

Glory Road (2006) - If you're sensing a theme with me and Disney sports movies…Well, you're not wrong. This look at the first all-Black starting lineup at the 1966 NCAA Final Four does, unfortunately, center white coach Don Haskins, played by Josh Lucas (though I always mis-remember it as Josh Charles), making the important story it tells less than what it should be, but it still mostly works.

Million Dollar Arm (2014) - Admittedly one of the lesser Disney sports movie entries, and another that centers a white guy in a film mostly about people of color (not a great look), this Jon Hamm movie about a scout seeking an Indian cricket star who can make it in the Major Leagues still mostly worked for me.

The Mighty Ducks (1992) - One of the few movies on this list aimed directly at kids, this beloved peewee hockey saga actually is cute, and mostly does hold up.

Cool Runnings (1993) - Kind of shocked this movie that is part White Savior-movie and part-wacky kids movie essentially making fun of a real group of athletes of color came out in 1993 and not 1973, but the earnest charm of John Candy and a general Disney gloss keep this from being totally unwatchable and mostly just mildly, rather than extremely, offensive. Not really recommending, but feels like it belongs on an Olympic movie list.

Nadia (1984) - This made-for-TV, mostly true biopic, starring Talia Balsam as Nadia Comaneci, was a Disney Channel staple in that network’s early days.

Munich (2005) - It's a movie with the Olympics very much at its heart—namely the 1972 Israeli athlete hostage tragedy—that isn't really about the Olympics at all, but this Steven Spielberg-directed movie about national revenge is compelling, if problematic if you think about it for too long.

American Anthem (1986) - Is this Mitch Gaylord-Mrs. Wayne Gretzky (a.k.a Janet Jones) starring movie good, realistic and/or well-written? No, no and none of the above. But did I still watch it 8,000 times as a kid on HBO? Yes. Yes, I did.

Men with Brooms (2002) - Once, on a business trip to Canada, my husband was stuck in a hotel that only got three channels, and one of them always seemed to be showing curling, which actually got him weirdly into this obscure sport. This movie wasn't quite as fun as I hoped, but it's still a mostly charming, if slight, Canadian classic.

Unbroken (2014) - The harrowing and incredible real-life story of Louis Zamperini deserved better than this Angelina Jolie-directed movie delivered, but it's still a serviceable version of a worthy tale.

Chariots of Fire (1981) - I remember being bored out of my mind by this movie trying to watch this movie on cable as a kid, but no denying that, if nothing else, the score is iconic and indelibly linked to sports-movie magic.

Without Limits (1998) - Jared Leto’s Prefontaine beat this one to the theaters, but this Billy Crudup-starring film is the better of the two movies about the life of running pioneer Steve Prefontaine. There’s also a 1995 documentary, Fire on the Track: The Steve Prefontaine Story.

Personal Best (1982) - Mariel Hemingway’s story of ambition at odds with love, is a sports and LGTBQ+ classic.

Olympic Dreams (2019) - The story of how this small, meandering movie was made during the 2018 Winter Games is, unfortunately, more interesting than the movie itself, but there is some charm in watching Nick Kroll as an Olympic dentist making his way through the real Village, while interacting with real athletes.

Foxcatcher (2015) - This excellently-acted story is more true crime than sports inspiration, but if you're seeking a look at the dark side of the Games—and don’t want to turn on a doc like Athlete A—this is very dark tale indeed.

Seabiscuit (2003) - Every great athlete deserves to have their story told.

Any Given Sunday (1999) - Oliver Stone and Al Pacino take on pro Football. 'Nuff said.

The Replacements (2000) - I mean, the movie isn't amazing, but Keanu Reeves is super charming and Gene Hackman is always worth a watch.

The Program (1993) - Another bit of a dark-side-of-football take, worth it if only for the fantastic cast: James Caan, Halle Berry, Omar Eps, Joey Lauren Adams.

Everbody’s All-American (1988) - Not a movie I particularly love, but this Dennis Quaid-Jessica Lange football story that spans decades has always stuck in my memory.

Bull Durham (1988) - Just let Kevin Costner play actual baseball already.

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litniche · 4 years

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For as Long as We Both Shall Live

Damie Fic, Read on ao3

From a few pews back on the bride’s side of the aisle, Flora didn’t look at all splendid. She looked perfect. She was beaming. Her eyes shone and her grin split her features as the groom recited his portion of the vows.

“I take you to be my lawful wife.”

Jamie balanced too many things in her hands as she tried to unlock the door upon arriving home. Like her, the thing was stubborn. Ultimately, she gave up and jammed the manila envelope she held in one hand into her mouth, holding it gingerly between her lips as she finally managed to twist the key and the knob at the same time--the trick to it.

“Well the queue was shite!” she called into the home, knowing Dani will have been home by now, “but I’ve got it. Our union is officially civil.” The gardener smiled at the notion, and tossed the documentation onto the catch-all by the door.

“To have and to hold,”

Dani had put on that movie again--the one Jamie couldn’t remember the name of, but knew had Audrey Hepburn. Dani couldn’t seem to get enough of the woman. Jamie might be jealous, but she wasn't the possessive type. Besides, as she curled up next to Dani, weaving their legs together as she opened a book, it turned out she needn't be. Audrey was good, but she couldn’t make Dani laugh the way Jamie could. As Dani grinned and chuckled at the movie, Jamie felt a small smile find its way to her lips. She planted a gentle kiss to the former au pair’s chest before leaning further into the woman to rest her head there. She felt Dani’s head rest atop hers. Dani’s heartbeat was strong and steady, and at peace.

“From this day forth,”

Jamie shook her head. She was already halfway home from the Manor. There was no point in turning around to go back now. She’d see Dani tomorrow or soon enough. Why go back now? Besides, the woman was clearly not ready to start anything. Though, if Jamie were being honest with herself, she knew that wasn’t true. The au pair was haunted--literally haunted. Her ex was taking up space in her life that he no longer had claim to. That wasn’t Dani’s fault. Jamie found herself thinking she would gladly chase away his dark shadow. Because Dani was ready. Every brush of Dani’s hand, every smile, every laugh, every mind-blowing kiss, and every tangential remark about a certain pub located just below a certain flat, was a gesture. Dani was ready. She’d made it pretty clear, in more ways than the gardener could count.

The problem remained: was the gardener ready? Up until now, Jamie fancied herself a lone wolf of sorts. People simply weren’t worth it. Plants took your devotion, your time, and they showed you something for it. From leafling to bloom, they rewarded your every effort. People, on the other hand, were more likely to punish you for it. Right now, her life was good. Boring. Dull. Of little consequence. But good.

So why turn around? Why go back to Bly Manor? Why ask Owen to stick around (because, let’s face it, Hannah was less and less there these days and someone needed to watch the kids if Jamie was going to steal Dani away)?

At last, the gardener paused on the road, because she finally knew the answer to her questions. Why go back? It was simple: it had been a rough day. Maybe Jamie’s life was good because it was boring, but what about Dani? The au pair could use a bit of boredom-- a break from far too much excitement that life was determined to send her way. From this day forth, Jamie had a strange feeling she’d fancy being that bit of boredom.

“For better,”

“‘I’ll have no problem setting up the bed, Dani!’” the former au pair quoted the gardener, eyeing her with accusatory daggers and gesturing toward the very-much-unfinished bed setup.

The gardener was busted. She had zero excuses. Quite simply, she’d forgotten to set up the bed, distracted by the far more interesting needs of their new shop, The Leafling. By the time she’d remembered the bed, and read the paltry leaflet of instructions, she’d discovered the bed's setup was more of a two-man job. Or, two-woman job, as it were.

“I’m sorry,” she started, giving Dani a sheepish, pleading look. She stepped forward, encircling the blonde in her arms and going for that spot on Dani’s neck that she knew Dani couldn’t resist. Before long, Dani giggled and the gardener could practically feel Dani’s eyes rolling, but her arms wrapped around Jamie’s shoulders as she laughed. The gardener held the woman even closer, slipping one leg between the other woman’s as one of Dani’s hooked around her hip.

“I’m sorry!” Jamie said again, chuckling.

“Better be,” Dani laughed out the empty threat.

“For worse,”

Something was wrong. Something had been wrong for a while, but Dani wasn’t telling her what it was. Here they were, about to be ‘officially civil,’ and Dani was pulling away. Jamie could feel it. She could feel every inch of Dani slipping away from her, but the woman wouldn’t tell her what was happening. And Jamie was afraid to ask. But that wouldn’t do, would it?

“ Are we going to talk?” Jamie finally managed to say, drying a pan Dani had handed her as the blonde scrubbed at a plate.

Dani was silent, scrubbing harder and refusing to look at Jamie.

Jamie closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds, disallowing the hurt to sink in. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” she said, and turned to put away the dish.

The gardener turned back to look at Dani, but the blonde didn’t appear to be staring at the water to ignore her--she looked possessed. Suddenly, Dani gasped and stood back, dropping the plate so that it shattered all over the kitchen.

“Jesus!” Jamie stepped toward the blonde, her brows furrowed with worry. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Dani was still staring at the sink; her breathing was irregular and heavy, like she was running from something, and tears trailed down her cheeks. “I saw-- I saw her,” she whispered. “She’s there.”

No. Not yet. No.

Jamie checked the sink and then looked back at Dani. “What did you see?” she asked.

“Her,” Dani whispered still. “I keep seeing her.”

“Okay,” Jamie nodded slightly. “Right.” She stepped over the larger shards of the plate and hurried to turn off the sink, letting the water drain. “Okay, it’s gone,” she said, hoping to reassure Dani. Everything would be fine. It had to be.

“Is it?”

“It’s okay.”

Dani just shook her head as she finally made eye contact with Jamie, a horrible expression of fear written all over her beautiful face.

Jamie shook her head, too. She refused to let this happen--to stand idly by. “You’re going to be okay,” she said. “You can’t think the worst, all right? Okay?”

“Jamie,” Dani whispered, unconvinced, and her gaze drifted once more.

“We don’t know what this means!” Jamie said with desperation now. “We--We could have so many more years together.” She held Dani’s face, trying to regain eye contact. “Dani,” she scanned the woman’s face, “we could have so many more years.”

The gardener didn’t know whether she was trying to convince Dani or herself at this point, but at last, Dani nodded.

“Okay? We’ll keep an eye on it,” Jamie said lamely, “and it’ll be fine.”

Dani breathed more easily now, and watched Jamie’s words form on her lips, as if concentrating on them would make them true.

“Okay? It’s going to be okay,” Jamie reassured her. She held Dani’s face in both hands, then rubbed her shoulders in an attempt to soothe away her fears. “I’ll do the washing up from now on. Yeah?” She cocked her head, saying “You’re shit at it anyway.”

Dani laughed. She laughed, and it was as if the air returned to the room. It would be okay, just like Jamie had told her. It had to be. They could have so many more years.

“For richer or for poorer”

Dani was biting her lip and carding her fingers through her bangs as she bent over receipts and invoices atop the counter in The Leafling . Her eyes - one brown, one blue - scanned her notepad as she double-checked her work and a smirk started to tease at her lips. “I can feel you watching me.”

Jamie’s brows arched as she played with a bit of baby’s breath, not really doing anything. “Oh you can, can you?”

Dani made a final swipe at their bank book with her pen before closing it, evidently finished. “Yep,” she said with a pop at the end. Her smirk was fully on display now and was downright devious. Jamie might have to figure out a way to wipe it off that beautiful face. For the moment, she watched as Dani crossed one leg over the other on her stool, her legs on full display beneath a little black velvet skirt.

Jamie’s eyes trailed their way from those far-too-tempting limbs up Dani’s form until their eyes met each other. Dani was practically grinning now. The Yank knew exactly what she was doing to the poor gardener. “And what if I like staring at you?” Jamie asked.

Dani’s grin disappeared beneath her teeth as she bit her lip in response. Anyone save Jamie might not have noticed that her eyes became darker and her chest moved up and down a little quicker as her breathing sped up.

It was the middle of the day and though things hadn’t picked up in the shop just yet, Jamie was expecting a rush. It was Valentine’s Day, after all, and Americans loved spending their money to show each other how much they care. At any moment, they might have been interrupted, and that was the only reason Jamie was still only staring. She could feel her own breath quicken and she made a conscious effort to remind herself that as soon as they closed, it was her and Dani’s Valentine’s Day, too.

“You seem in good sorts,” Jamie said and flailed to change the subject, “are the books looking good?”

Dani sighed, carding her fingers through her hair before leaning onto the counter. “They’re fine. We’re not poor, but we’re not rich.”

The gardener shrugged. “I’ll take it,” she said, turning back to one of their ready-to-go Valentine’s Day bouquets of red roses and baby’s breath to fiddle with its arrangement for the eighteenth time. Idle hands.

Jamie shiverred when a pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind. Dani caught one of her ears between her teeth gently before she whispered, “I’ll take you,” in a teasing manner.

Laughing and scrunching her nose in mock disapproval of the lame word play, Jamie stopped to hold Dani’s arms in place. They rocked back and forth, and Dani sprinkled soft kisses across Jamie’s shoulders. “I love you,” she whispered.

They could have watered the entire shop’s worth of flowers from the puddle those words had just made Jamie. “I love you, too, Poppins.”

“In sickness and in health,”

Dani looked ready for war. Upon returning from the drug store and banging around in the kitchen, she appeared armed with vapor rub, cough drops, nasal spray, warm wash cloths, honey and citrus tea (made under strict instructions Jamie had once left on a note on the fridge), tissues, and most of all, very big and very worried eyes. Jamie almost felt more sorry for Dani than for herself.

“You know, it’s just a cold, Poppins,” she said from the bed.

“You don’t get sick,” Dani said, and she frowned. She sat beside Jamie on the edge of the bed. “We’ve had The Leafling for years and I don’t think I remember you skipping one day of work before this.” She worried her lip as she looked down at the warm wash cloth she was folding.

Humoring her, Jamie closed her eyes and let the woman dampen her forehead. Then she let Dani apply the pungent vapor rub to her chest--that bit wasn’t so bad. Pillows were fluffed and her temperature was taken. Jamie drew the line, though, when Dani made as if to apply a tissue to Jamie’s nose for her to blow.

“I’m fine, Poppins. Honestly. I just need a day taking it easy. I’ll be back down in the shop tomorrow, love.”

The former au pair shook her head. “Only if you’re better.”

“I’ll be better,” Jamie assured her. She reached for Dani’s hand and linked their pinkies before bringing them to her lips so she could kiss her own thumb in a promise.

“Well, it’s a Tuesday. The shop shouldn't be that busy anyway, so I’ve left a note with our number in case anyone needs something. Meantime, I’ll keep you company.” She smiled and tucked a strand of Jamie’s hair behind an ear. “Can I get you anything else?”

The gardener nodded her head and curled a finger to direct the woman to come closer. Concern in her eyes, Dani hovered above Jamie as she waited for instructions. Instead, Jamie pulled her down on top of her, grinning when she heard Dani giggle with an “oof!” It made her laugh and that caused a bit of a coughing fit that made Dani spring back as if she’d scorched the gardener with a hot fire-poker. “I’m so sorry!”

“Oh baby, come here,” Jamie managed. She patted the spot next to her. “I swear to you, I’m fine.”

“Well, I think you should rest.” “Good, you’re my favorite pillow. Don’t make a sick woman ask again.”

Dani rolled her eyes, but climbed into bed after removing her shoes. After settling against the headboard, she guided Jamie to rest on her chest. “Do you want me to put something on? A movie?”

Jamie nodded as she nuzzled further into the woman, closing her eyes. “You pick.”

“I’ve already got a good one in. I’ll just play that one?”

“Sounds perfect,” Jamie said in a haze. She could feel herself drifting.

At some point, Jamie woke up, but it was dark out. She couldn’t tell if it was late evening or the middle of the night. She looked up to see that Dani was still awake. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours. You hungry?”

“A girl could get used to this,” Jamie smiled. She kissed Dani’s chest. “A bit of pasta with butter would sit right, I think.”

“I’ll go make it,” Dani said eagerly. She kissed the top of Jamie’s head and gently extricated herself.

“Dani?” Jamie called.

Dani stopped just before leaving the room. “Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

Dani’s expression softened. She leaned against the doorframe of their bedroom as she smiled at Jamie. “Anytime.”

“...for as long as we both shall live.”

The groom finished his vows and Flora’s grin was still brilliant. It was her turn now, and Jamie remembered all those years ago at Bly Manor--how Flora so enjoyed reciting her own lines. She was surprised Flora hadn’t written her own vows, in fact, but then again it had been many years since the budding theatre artist had written and performed anything as far as the gardener knew.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Jamie imagined saying to Dani. “Doesn’t she look happy?”

“Like us,” Jamie imagined Dani saying in return. Then she would have weaved their arms together as she leaned in close to her side.

“Like us,” Jamie nodded in agreement with the phantom Dani. She caught Owen’s tear-glistened eye and smiled fondly. The poor sap.

“He’s such a romantic . Always has been ,” Dani would have told her. Jamie could almost imagine the feel of Dani squeezing her hand. “Such as shame he never found anyone again,” Dani might have said.

Jamie disagreed with that. “The vows are ‘for as long as we both shall live,’ love. I don’t think anyone would measure up to Hannah for him. No one could ever measure up to you.”

Dani would have tsked and told her she hadn’t really tried. In truth, Jamie hadn’t. People were exhaustive. Every great once in a while, you might find the walking personification of a moonflower, but she’d already done that. She had experienced so many years of beauty and devotion and love. It hadn’t been enough, but it had been more than she ever thought possible.

The rest of the day blurred from one aspect of ceremony to the next. Before she knew it, Jamie was back in her hotel room. She checked the mirror, then the sink, and even the tub, but knew she would only see herself. With a crack in the door and the lights turned off, she was ready for bed. Or, rather, she was ready for a nap in the chair facing the door. On the off chance Dani might decide to join her, she would be waiting and ready. For as long as she lived.

#bly manor #thobm #dani x jamie #jamie x dani #damie #damie fanfic #damie fic #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #damie ao3 #thobm fic #bly manor fic #wlw #lgbtq+#wedding fic #flora wingrave #owen sharma

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leowenila · 6 years

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A Mother’s Forgivness

Hi! Thank you to the anon that recently reminded me to post this fic that I wrote a while ago. Please enjoy this random one-shot I thought of one night while rewatching the episode where Carolyn visited Derek in Seattle. I’m sorry for taking so long to post this. Please enjoy :)

Synopsis: Just as Amelia has found a steady pace in her life with her new family she’s created with her boyfriend and their baby on the way, Amelia’s mother unexpectedly visits Grey Sloan for a long-awaited reunion, in hopes at a second chance.

______________________________________________

Over the past several months of having a toddler in their home, Amelia and Owen found a steady routine from morning to night. The weekends were slightly altered but always remained a constant. Owen dressed and fed Leo while Amelia made breakfast for their family after putting a minimal amount of makeup on her already clear face.

Finishing their morning routine after a dreadful night of a teething battle, Amelia carried and strapped Leo into his car seat in the back of the vehicle as he held on tightly to his stuffed giraffe. Before closing the back door, Amelia placed a warm kiss on his cheek and sat in the front passenger’s seat beside Owen. The trauma surgeon released a sigh he was unaware of holding as he watched his girlfriend shut her tired eyes and began to pull out of their driveway.

_______________________ Having her arm linked in Owen’s muscular arm as they made their way into Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital’s entrance together, Amelia immediately halted in her position, as soon as she noticed her sisters speaking with a familiar older woman.

“Mia?” The trauma surgeon questioned her after he noticed a sudden shift in the young neurosurgeon’s facial expression change from overjoyed to paranoid. Before he was aware, Amelia removed Leo from Owen’s arms.

“I’m gonna take Leo to daycare. Don’t forget about our ultrasound in a few hours.” Amelia said to Owen before she abruptly walked away towards the hospital’s daycare with her hand on the small child’s back.

“Amelia!” He worriedly called out to Amelia as he started to chase after her before the older woman along with Maggie and Meredith walked towards his direction.

“Do you two ever answer your damn phones? I tried calling the both of you five times!” The general surgeon asked Owen after attempting to bring his attention onto her as his mind stayed preoccupied on what made Amelia run with Leo.

“Leo had a rough night and Ame- Mrs. Shepherd?” Owen asked in shock upon noticing his mother in law, finally placing the puzzle pieces together.

“And hello to you, Major Hunt.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Shepherd. But if you excuse me I have to get to work.” The trauma surgeon lied to Carolyn before he walked towards the emergency department, hoping to find Amelia along the way.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As she waited for the ultrasound technician to arrive in the silent room, Amelia began to toy with the hem of her brown cardigan, growing more anxious and more anxious as the minutes passed by. Glancing up for a moment, Owen suddenly noticed the constant uneasiness from his girlfriend and tore himself from the Seattle magazine

“I’m right here.” Owen calmly said to Amelia as giant tears began to spring in her eyes after he placed his strong hand into hers. Finding the only comfort for her anxiety to stare at Owen’s lake blue eyes, the young neurosurgeon was not aware of the technician requesting for her to lift her grey shirt.

“Okay Amelia, this might feel a little cold.” Ashley, the technician explained to the brunette before she immediately turned her head as cold gel touched her lower abdomen, suddenly the world around her began to move in slow motion and everything around her became silent. Half an hour passed by until Amelia felt Owen squeeze her hand while the technician carefully wiped off her stomach. Amelia touched the trauma surgeon’s face and noticed his wet stained cheeks from crying, he tilted his head at her touch.

“Our baby is okay?” The brunette fearfully asked Owen as tears continuously streamed down her face, attempting to read her boyfriend’s soft expression.

“Our baby is incredible.” Owen said to Amelia before he walked over to the patient bed where Amelia laid with her exposed and tiny stomach to passionately kiss her.

____________________________________________________

Coming home later than she expected from an emergency craniotomy, Amelia unlocked the door to her home where Leo greeted her with a smile on his face and a yellow toy car in his hands. The neurosurgeon picked up the small boy and planted a giant wet kiss on his cheek before she walked into the kitchen, where Owen pounded out fresh made pizza dough onto the counter.

“I’m sorry I am late. Halfway into the surgery, Tom had to take over because I wasn’t feeling well.” She explained to Owen, after he looked up and gently kissed her on the lips. He quickly began to grow concerned at her comment before his thoughts were cut off by the voice coming from the back of the house.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important, Major Hunt, but the soap in your bathroom is very low and you might want to buy some more your next time shopping.” Carolyn told her son in law before she stopped and noticed her daughter standing in the kitchen, standing just as shocked as she was.

“What are you doing in my home?” The younger Shepherd woman flatley asked her mother, before Carolyn had the chance to utter another comment.

“Meredith informed me about Bailey’s kindergarten graduation quickly approaching and I figured he would want to see his grandm-”

“What about when Zola graduated from kindergarten? You made a great effort to see her graduate. How about after Ellis was born?” Amelia questioned Carolyn after she handed Leo to Owen to wipe her oddly wet forehead.

“Or even better; HOW ABOUT THE DAY THAT I GOT MARRIED?! There is no worse feeling in the world than finding out on what was supposed to be one of the happiest freaking days of my life, that not EVEN MY MOTHER was going to be at my wedding!” The brunette shouted at her mother with everything inside of her before the small toddler in Owen’s arms starting to cry at the loud shouting in the room.

“Amy, I am so sorry, I can explia-” Carolyn started to explain before Amelia ran towards the master bedroom with Owen running right behind her after placing Leo down on the ground to allow the boy to return to playing with his toy car.

Several minutes after waiting for the couple to return from wherever they ran off together, Carolyn watched Leo joyfully play before she noticed that the trauma surgeon was alone. With an angry expression remaining on his face, Owen walked past his son and opened the front door. He watched his mother in law grow confused until he attempted to calmed down.

“You need to leave.”

“Pardon me, Major Hunt?” The older Shepherd questioned Owen.

“You need to leave, and please never come back.” He explained to her after noticed the brunette listening from afar in the hallway, Carolyn looked down at the small boy and later the trauma surgeon before she walked out the door.

Hearing the door shut, Amelia carefully walked over to Owen before he wrapped his giant arms around her delicate frame as a silent sob escaped from her mouth, remembering that the family she built with this man was the only family she needed.

Thank you so much for reading, sorry if it was long! I am accepting prompts, so if you would like to send me a request, please feel free! :)

#omelia #amelia shepherd #owen hunt #omelia fanfiction #greys anatomy #seasidescorsone #amelia and owen #owen and amelia #omeliafics

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amelia-blackshepherd · 6 years

Text

Record Time (3)

Last part from my mama and sister shepherd prompt!

“I’m going to bed.” Betty announces as she stomps into the house in front of us. She had refused to talk to us or tell us why exactly she had ended up in jail on the entire car ride home. All we knew was what the police had told us, that they picked her and her friends up after getting a call about some teenagers driving recklessly, thankfully nobody was injured.

“Stop.” Owen’s strong authoritative voice commands. “You aren’t going anywhere till you tell exactly what happened tonight.”

Betty turns to face us, her teenage face stone cold gaze looks onto us. When she made no attempt to begin explaining, “We are waiting…” I impatiently state, standing beside Owen staring back at her with my arms crossed.

She rolls her eyes at us before finally opening her mouth, “Some guys offered us a ride, it isn’t a that big of a deal. The cops are totally over reacting, it was probably just some lame person who saw the car go by their house and freaked out cause we were going like 2 miles over the speed limit.”

I let out a harsh laugh, “2 miles over the limit, Betty the cops told us how fast the car was going when they pulled you over. This isn’t a joke, you could have been seriously hurt or killed. Did you even know those guys before you got in a car with them?”

“Yeah, kind of, I’ve seen them around school before. Look, I am fine, nobody was hurt, so can we just drop it.” Betty says as she turns back ready to make a retreat to her room.

I look at Owen for back up, “No, we can’t just ‘drop it’ Betty. The rules are you have to tell us when you go somewhere else and that includes getting in cars with random boys.”

“Oh my God. You are so over reacting. Nothing happened, and they were just going to bring me here so why would I call to tell you that.” Betty voice is beginning to raise as the argument progresses.

“Betty, you were picked up 40 minutes from here. Do you really expect us to believe they were just driving you home?” I ask, and before she can try another lie, I continue, “And the next words out of your mouth better not be a lie.”

“Fine. Whatever, I’m sorry.” Betty mumbles.

“That’s it?” I ask raising an eyebrow at her, when all I get is a shrug in response, “Alright then, you are grounded. No hanging out with your friends, no going out, just school and home.”

Betty rolls her eyes, “Yeah, saw that coming. For how long?” She asks clearly not caring.

I look at Owen first, “Until you tell us the truth about tonight. The whole truth, no lies, no excuses. Oh, and if we aren’t home, you can come to the hospital and wait for us there.”

“What!” Betty exclaims, causing Leo to wake up in his nursery, “That is insane. You aren’t even my parents, you can’t do this.”

Her words sting me slightly, but I also know she is angry and lashing out, Owen takes over, “No we aren’t, but we are responsible for you. This is not up for discussion, go to bed.” Betty huffs off towards her room and slams the door causing Leo’s cries to become louder. “I got him.” Owen says as he heads off to the nursery.

When I reach the nursery, I am greeted with the sight of Leo being comforted by Liz, I completely forgot she was here with all the commotion. “Ah, thanks again for watching him for us. Sorry we took so long.”

“No problem, he was a perfect angel until all the fighting a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah, sorry about that buddy.” I coo to Leo as I let him play with my finger as he settles back into his crib.

As we leave the nursery, Liz voices the question I know she has been dying to ask since Amelia first got the phone call. “So, what exactly is the whole situation here? I wasn’t eaves dropping but it was kind of hard not to hear the fight. Who is the girl?”

Owen runs his hand back through his thin hair, wanting to be careful about how much he told Liz as Amelia’s relationship with her was still extremely fragile, but also knowing he had to offer some sort of explanation, “Well… her name is Betty and we are sort of taking care of her, she is actually Leo’s mother. See I am er we are fostering him, and then we met Betty. Betty was living on the streets, which is why she had Leo in the foster system and Amelia wanted to help Betty, who ah is a recovering addict.” I try to explain as simply as I can, but Amelia is right there isn’t exactly a word for this.

Liz is silent for a moment trying to take in the information, “Wow, that’s an incredible thing that you and Amy are doing.” I nod my head as we continue towards the living room, “But wait, if you two decided to foster does that mean you can’t have kids of your own.” Liz asks quietly, just as we come back into the kitchen where Amelia was cleaning up from supper.

I look at Amelia, knowing that it isn’t my place to explain all of our situation to her family. Liz follows my gaze to Amelia and waits for her to say something. “No. I mean, no we can have kids, well we probably can, it is just…. It’s complicated. I guess to really answer your question I will have to start from the beginning.” Amelia’s words tumble out of her, I can she would rather not have to dig up everything that has happened, everything she went through, and everything we went through together.

Despite not really wanting to tell my sister about how me and Owen split, how I ran after the pregnancy scare, how we became friends again and then Leo came into the picture and then Betty and then me and Owen came back together, despite how little I wanted to tell my sister every little thing that had happened that lead us here, I did. I even told her about the brain tumor and about Christopher, which was hard, I still wasn’t sure I could trust her with all of this, however, it did feel better to get everything out in the open.

Liz ended up spending the next 2 days with us, and it was actually really nice to have a real relationship with her again. I was sad when she finally had to go back home. I was surprised that she didn’t nag me at all about keeping some pretty big things secret, not only from her, but from mom too.

It wasn’t until the day after Liz left that everything began to implode. Within 24 hours of Liz leaving my house I had 12 missed calls, all from my family that a month ago I hadn’t spoken to in over four years. 6 calls were from my mother, 4 from Nancy, and 2 from Kathleen, and based on there angry messages I knew Liz had told them everything, or nearly everything.

For most of the day I tried to ignore my missed calls, but I knew sooner or later I would have to face the facts, they knew, and I couldn’t keep hiding it from them. So, first I called Nancy, I wasn’t ready to deal with my mother and I figured Nancy would be good practise as she was the most like mom. Plus knowing how close Nancy and my mother were and how my mother use to rely on Nancy to give her information on the rest of us I figured I could use that to my advantage. I could tell Nancy what mom wanted to know and that way I wouldn’t have to directly deal with her.

I was just hanging up the phone with Nancy when Owen came into the living room. He took one look at my drained face and moved behind where I was seated to massage my shoulders. “I wish I could help.”

“mmm…” I mumble relaxing into his hands, “Me too. I think I’ll call Kathleen and Liz next.”

“Want me to give you some space.” He asks, moving around the front of the couch.

I pat the seat beside me asking him to join, “No, these calls shouldn’t be as bad anyway.” I pick my phone back up and decide to call Kathleen first, seeing as she called me the least amount of times and from what Liz had told me, she has her own secrets she is keeping from mom, I doubt she will be as harsh on me for keeping stuff from her.

I was right, Kathleen was worried about me in her typical big sister kind of way, but she also understood why I choose not to tell our family some things. Next, I called Liz, when she picked up the phone I couldn’t help but say, “What happened to sisters covering each others’ asses?”

“I’m sorry, Amelia. You know mom and Nancy, the second I got back into town they were on me to tell them everything. I really thought they would see your side if I explained everything, that they would understand and give you some space so you could tell them on your own terms. I really am sorry.”

“Liz, did we even grow up in the same house? When have mom or Nance for that matter ever left things alone and let things sort themselves out.” As much as I want to be mad at Liz, I know she didn’t mean to cause harm and to be fair I have had years to tell them everything, but I hadn’t.

After I hung up with Liz, I looked over at Owen who had fallen asleep beside me at some point, I shake him gently, “O, why don’t we go to bed.”

He sleepily opens his eyes and smiles at me in his charming sleepy manner, “You finished all your calls?”

I look away from his eyes and play with an imaginary loose string on the couch, “I’ll call my mother tomorrow.”

“Amelia…” He draws out my name.

“I know. But what is one more day going to hurt?” I counter.

“Call her. Then we can go to bed. I’ll even give you another massage before we go to bed.” He tempts.

“Fine.” I accept, knowing it will be better to just get this over with anyway. So, I pick up the phone and call my mother.

She answers on the first ring despite it being fairly late. I try and ease my way into the conversation and surprisingly she lets me. We talk for a while, she has questions about why I didn’t tell her and if I am okay. She is hurt that I didn’t tell her about the brain tumor or about Christopher. But she also understands why I didn’t tell her about Owen after everything that happened with our wedding.

I stayed on the phone talking with my mother for nearly an hour, Owen sat beside me silently rubbing my back in support. After finally hanging up with my mother, I was exhausted. I laid my head back against the couch and closed my eyes. It was weird I felt so raw and open now that my whole family knew everything but I also felt like I was stronger then ever.

“I am so proud of you.” Owen’s strong voice softly says beside me. “I know how hard that must have been for you. And I love you so much for being so strong and telling them everything, that could not have been easy.”

I sit up and lean into him and press a tender kiss to his lips as my way of thanking him for being so understanding and for just being there. I couldn’t have done any of this without him and I want him to know that.

“You looked exhausted, let’s go to bed.” He pulls me to my feet and puts his hand on my lower back as he guides me towards our room.

I lean back into his hand and allow him to guide me even though I know exactly where we are going, “Lets. But before we sleep, I believe I was promised a massage.”

I feel Owen’s strong hands move up my back to my shoulders as he starts a light massage and then his warm breath against my neck as he moves my hair aside and kisses the exposed skin, “Of course, I always keep my promises.”

#omelia #omelia family #amelia shepherd #owen hunt #omelia fanfic #omelia fanfiction #greys season 15 #part 3

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muse-matters · 6 years

Text

Fay World (Draft)

It took Gwen ten minutes to explain to the deputies from the San Bernadino Sheriff’s Department that the enchanted green and purple bonfire currently lighting up her parent's backyard was harmless and entirely legal under the Mythic Magic Act. As she talked and answered their questions, they nodded but their eyes remained skeptical and their hands rested on their weapons. It was the kind of uneasiness Gwen had come to expect from most humans, especially humans confronted with a large group of Mythics.

“Look why don’t you come and see for yourself?” She gestured to the house. Though it was still two hours to midnight it was as bright as dawn, the electric lights inside combining with the bonfire and the tiny magical lights hanging in the sky. The babble of voices and laughter intertwined with the distant melody of someone playing a pipe and Mythics of all shapes and sizes were scattered across the unnaturally green lawn.

“I don’t think that will be necessary. We don’t want to interrupt your party.” The junior deputy said with barely concealed apprehension. Gwen tried not to smile at how easy they were to get rid of.

“Well then if there is nothing else?” She looked between them and her eye caught on something, or rather someone, behind them. If the officers had looked they wouldn’t have noticed anything but since the age of ten, Gwen had learned to detect the slight shimmer that came when Jack, her brothers best friend, went invisible. She gritted her teeth as he flitted about the car and hoped that whatever mischief he was up to wouldn’t land them all in trouble.

She focused back on the officers as they made their goodbyes and gave the standard warning about the penalties of illegal magic. She assured them again doing her best to look relaxed. They got into their car and Gwen held her breath, waiting for Jack’s trick to manifest. When the car was halfway down the long gravel drive and nothing exploded or seemed wrong she let it out in a whoosh.

There was a chuckle beside her.

“What did you do to the car?” She asked the night air.

“Something they won’t trace back to their visit here.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“They better not or I swear this time I will turn you in.”

“You are no fun.” Jack appeared before her, stepping into the night as if parting a curtain. Unmasked, his magic hit her; strong and unmistakably wild. Her traitorous heart skipped a beat, he was too close. She tipped her head to meet his deep green eyes.

“We have different definitions of fun”

“You used to like my tricks.” He said with a pout that didn’t fool Gwen for a second.

“That was when I was a kid and thought you and Owen were cool.” She didn’t add it was also when she’d had a ridiculous crush on him.

He gasped theatrically and placed his hand on his heart. “How dare you imply I am not cool.”

In spite of herself, Gwen smiled. “You are trouble.”

“Actually I’m a puka.”

“Same thing.”

He grinned wide enough for his dimple to flash and dipped his head as if acknowledging a compliment. His white-blonde hair looked purple in the bonfire light and Gwen tried not to notice how attractive he looked. He really was trouble. As a puka Jack was a natural born trickster and never let something as trivial as human laws get in the way of having fun. Worse he was always dragging Owen into his schemes and landing Gwen’s simple guardian faerie brother in jail.

A roar followed by laughter and cheering sounded from the bonfire.

“Looks like the dwarves have started brawling,” Gwen said.

Jack chuckled as he turned from her. “Trouble calls.” Then he stepped back into the air disappearing into the night.

Gwen shook her head, telling herself she was glad to be rid of him. Without really thinking about it she pulled out her phone to text her sister, Elaine, knowing she would understand.

Jack is the worst

Gwen stared at the screen and the five previous messages she had sent with no reply. Unlike Gwen, Elaine was hard to get a hold of and always traveling. Ostensibly she was hunting for a gateway back to the Otherworld but from her social media, it seemed the only thing she was hunting was the best photo-op. Despite her trooping faerie ways, this was the first year Elaine had missed the annual Samhain party. Gwen had been up since dawn working with her mother to accomplish what was usually a three-person job. Though working in the kitchen was vastly preferrable to making small talk with the gnomes from Arizona, Gwen couldn’t help but be resentful that her sister had left her to face the party alone.

She put her phone back in her pocket as she weaved through the various vehicles, motorbikes, pedal bikes and a school bus painted neon green that littered the driveway and front lawn. Though many guests had arrived via magic more and more Mythics were growing practical and adapting to human modes of transportation, thanks in part to the recent changes in the laws. Changes that Gwen had helped enact, not that any of them knew or cared.

The porch step creaked as she trudged to the door. If Gwen didn’t go back into the kitchen to report about the police her mother would send someone looking for her. Steeling herself she opened the door and stepping inside.

The various types of magic, overwhelming and impossible to sort out the origins, hit her like jumping naked into a glacier lake. Taking a deep breath she reminded herself that it would be easier once she adjusted to it. As she struggled to acclimate Gwen scanned the room for her mother.

She wasn’t part of the knot of pixies that were listening to Amy Takanaka. By the laughing and sly look in the kitsune’s eyes Gwen assumed she was telling about tricking her latest human boy toy. Even knowing that Mythics existed Amy still managed to fool a surprising number of men. Beyond them was Henrik, a tall, lean, Nordic elf, talking to Chetna. The naga’s snakelike eyes looked mildly interested so Gwen guessed that she didn’t yet need saving from Henrik discussing his pet wolf’s bowel movements. Scanning further over the eclectic assortment of Mythics filling the room Gwen realized her mother must be in the kitchen.

She was wondering if it would be easier to sneak outside and around the house when a frisson of magic pulled her up short. It pressed upon Gwen, making every hair stand up and her heart pound. Liquid smoke wrapped around her legs before pouring itself into the shape of a human woman in front of her.

Gwen didn’t know if all jinni had the same annoying habit of ostentatious materializing but for as long as she could remember it was how Afiya had moved even short distances. The pressure of the magic eased as Afiya took form and Gwen gave a sigh.

“If you spent more time around magic it wouldn’t affect you so strongly,” Afiya said before its mouth had fully formed.

“Nice to see you too, Auntie.” Gwen gave a sweet smile. Ignoring the advice Afiya had already given her a hundred times. Afiya was a family friend and one of the first Mythics Gwen’s parent’s had met when they came to America. Sensing its unique, powerful magic they had followed it to a cave in Death Valley. Afiya, like so many American Mythics, was a refugee and luckily had taken a liking to Branwen and Cormac despite their British origins.

Afiya wrinkled its nose, it had chosen an aristocratic one this time. “You even smell human. Our kind was never meant to spend so much time with humans.”

“So you have told me. Just as I have told you that it’s a good job, doing important work for all Mythics.”

“Your generation! The very idea of taking worthless pieces of paper and plastic instead of bartering is offensive.”

Gwen didn’t bother pointing out that Afiya’s power made it easy to disdain currency because it didn’t need it to survive. Just as it didn’t care about the Mythic laws Gwen worked on because humans couldn’t enforce them on it.

“You need to spend more time with your sister. She will teach you how to be a true guardian faerie. Where is she?”

“Not here.” Gwen couldn’t keep the sharpness from her voice.

“And you resent her for that? She is doing the work she is meant for, the most important work of all. All of this nonsense about taking orders from humans will cease when your people finally open a gateway back home.”

As it spoke Afiya began to turn smudgy at the edges and its eyes, shifted from a deep blue to an unnatural orange. Magic rolled off of it in waves and Gwen gritted her teeth to keep herself from an angry retort. With a huff, the jinni abandoned its form entirely and became a swirl of smoke that spun up to the ceiling. Gwen hoped it went out the chimney and didn’t come back so that she wouldn’t be tempted to tell it how wrong it was.

While it was true that Gwen and her family were guardian faeries and that their kind had always been the keepers of the crossroads, with abilities to both sense where doorways were possible and to open them between the worlds. It was also true that no doorway had been opened for 26 years, almost all of Gwen’s life. Afiya talked of going home but America was the only home Gwen had ever known.

Pulling out her phone she sent Elaine another message.

I almost yelled at Afiya. This is what happens when you aren’t here to run interference.

As an afterthought, she added a smiley face so Elaine wouldn’t think she was angry.

“Hey.”

Gwen looked up to see her brother Owen approaching.

“Hey.” She put her phone away.

They were of a height, his purple eyes a match to hers, but his hair was short and grass green, framing his pointed ears while hers was dyed black and shoulder length, ears safely hidden. The excess magic in the room didn’t seem to be bothering him at all as he smiled and took a bite of a honey cake that Gwen had helped make that morning. Exhaustion swept over her and she longed to grab his cake and go hide in her old bedroom.

“What did you say to Afiya?” Owen waggled his eyebrows and Gwen was sure he had a good idea of the conversation.

“I was polite. Afiya just doesn’t want to accept the truth.”

“You mean your truth that the doorways are locked forever?”

“Remind me how many doorways you have found in your ten years of looking?”

“Ouch, little sister, no need to rub it in. And to think I was going to give you a gift.” Out of the air he produced another honey cake and offered it to her with a smile. The small magic was a party trick Jack had taught them when they were younger, though Gwen had never managed to master it.

“What do you want?”

“Can’t I just do something nice?”

Gwen raised her eyebrows.

“Fine,” he said. “I got into a bit of legal trouble and I was hoping you could help me out.”

“Ow-en.” She half groaned.

“It’s not a big deal. We don’t even have to talk about it now. Just after the party before you go back to L.A.”

“Okay. After the party.” He broke into a grin and she held up her hand “But I need two more honey cakes and you have to run interference with Mom for the next hour.”

“Done.”

They didn’t shake on the bargain but Gwen knew it to be magically binding by the zing up her spine. Normally she wouldn’t make a bargain so cavalierly but Owen was her brother she trusted him not to take advantage. In quick succession, Owen produced two more cakes. Gwen took them with a smile.

“I’m going upstairs to my room,” she said.

“I will make sure you are undisturbed.”

“And tell Mom there were no issues with the police.”

He gave a mock salute before turning and plunging back into the crowd towards the kitchen. Gwen went the opposite direction to the sagging old staircase.

Laying in her old bed Gwen sucked the last bit of honey from her fingers. The full moon streamed through the window bathing the dark room in silver. Below and outside the party continued but at this distance the gathered magic faded into the background like hearing the pounding of waves from a beach house instead of having them break over her and drag her into the ocean.

Her families first Samhain party had been a small affair, just her parents, a nymph named Laurel they had met on their way to America, five-year-old Owen, three-year-old Gwen, and one-year-old Elaine. They had made the traditional foods and stayed up until midnight trying to catch glimpses into the world that had been suddenly closed to them. But there had been nothing to see, the Otherworld was hidden from them even on the night when the barrier between worlds was thinnest. Owen said that they sang songs and danced under stars until dawn in defiant joy but Gwen only remembered the feeling of emptiness and the desolation on her mothers face.

The next year, after her parents had made countless Mythic friends traveling the country, their small apartment had been bursting with guests and the party held a week before Samhain. Her parents had said it was to avoid upsetting their human neighbors by having so many Mythics gathered together on a day of power but Gwen was never sure that was exactly true. Especially because it seemed every year, no matter where they were living, the police were always called about the party. Gwen was wondering who had called them this year when she heard a thud from Elaine’s room.

Holding her breath she sat up and strained her ears, which were more acute than a human’s. Over the sounds of the party, she heard the faintest of footsteps and the scrape of a chair. Gwen frowned. Who could possibly have a reason to be in Elaine’s room? If it was a hobgoblin looking to do some cleaning in exchange for more food she wasn’t going to stand for it.

But when she got to Elaine's doorway the occupant wasn’t three foot and hairy nor was he cleaning. The stranger appeared to be almost six feet and was inspecting the contents of a desk drawer a red ball of faerie fire glowing above his shoulder.

Gwen switched on the electric light. The stranger reared up hitting his head on his faerie fire and cursing.

“What are you doing?” Gwen demanded as she stepped into the room.

He turned to her scowling as he rubbed the back of his head. “Was that necessary?”

“What? Who the hell are you? And why are you snooping in my sister's room?” Gwen crossed her arms trying to figure out just what kind of Mythic he was.

“Just exploring.” He flashed her a smile that would have been charming under different circumstances before continuing in a smooth accented voice, “Sorry if I scared you.”

“You didn’t scare me.” Gwen wondered if she should be scared of his magic but when she tried to feel for it all she got was the weak pulse from the faerie fire. “You’re human.”

“And you are a Mythic.” He tipped his head slightly, and a dark curl slipped onto his forehead. His face was narrow and handsome despite the slight crook in his nose.

“Why are you here?” Gwen looked at the open desk drawer. There was nothing but junk in it. Elaine didn’t really use it but this man clearly didn’t know that and his accent made it unlikely he was a local attracted by the light and noise.

“I was invited by my friend. Couldn’t pass up a chance to see a real Mythic bash.”

“What’s your friend's name?”

“John.” He barely paused but Gwen knew in her gut he was lying. She hated liars.

“No, you’re not.”

His lips twitched. “No, I’m not. Quite clever aren’t you.” He smiled and it was sharp at the edges. “Well, now that we have established that I don’t belong here shall we make a deal?”

Gwen frowned. Nothing good could come from a bargain with this man but she had finally placed his accent, some variety of British, and in spite of herself she was intrigued.

“What would be your terms?” She asked.

“I will tell you who I am, why I am here, and leave immediately if you answer one question.”

“What question?”

“First promise.”

Gwen put her hands on her hips. “I am not stupid enough to agree to anything without knowing the full terms. Especially with a human who could easily break their word.” Human’s had a choice in bargains but for her it was always magically binding. A fact she had learned painfully as a child.

“So untrustworthy.” He gave a shake of his head. “Alright. I want to know where Elaine is.”

Ice stabbed Gwen’s heart. What had Elaine gotten mixed up in now? “I will tell you what I know about where Elaine is if you tell me who you are, why you are here and leave immediately.” She hoped he hadn’t noticed her change to his wording. But his smug smile eased her fears.

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.” Gwen felt the zing up her spine sealing the bargain. “You first.”

He grinned broadly like a poker player about to lay down a winning hand. “I’m a private investigator and I am here because my employer suspects that your sister kidnapped Vivian Jamison. My job is to find Elaine and turn her into the authorities.”

“What? That’s insane. Elaine and Vivian are friends. She wouldn’t kidnap her.”

He shrugged. “And yet Vivian Jamison is missing and was last seen with your sister. Elaine’s innocence or guilt isn’t really my business. I am here to find her, turn her into the authorities and collect my money.”

Gwen was appalled by his naked avarice. This was her sister's life they were talking about. She thought of all the unanswered texts and her stomach clench in panic.

“When did Vivian go missing?”

“That wasn’t part of the agreement. Now tell me where is Elaine?” He stepped closer.

Gwen wanted to throttle him and his smug smirk, he had deliberately given her information so she would know she was selling out Elaine. She was now grateful for how little she knew.

“I don’t know where she is. The last time we spoke she was in Edinburgh.”

He glared and took another step into her space. “She was in Edinburgh five days ago. You agreed to tell me where she is now.”

“No. I agreed to tell you what I knew about where she is. That’s all I know. My end of the bargain is met.” She felt the confirming coldness wash over her. She owed this man nothing.

“But you have an idea of where she might have gone or where she might be?”

This time she stepped toward him with a sickly sweet smile. “That wasn’t part of the agreement. Now leave before I call my jinni friend up here to make you leave.”

She was close enough to see that his eyes were a deep blue as they flashed and he looked on the verge of arguing but then he broke into a laugh that took all the bravado out of Gwen. She stepped away confused.

“Well played, little fae.” He sat on the desk and eyed her speculatively “You know there is no reason for us to be enemies.”

“You are trying to get my sister pinned for kidnapping.”

“If the price was right I could be convinced to help you instead.”

“So all you care about is your payday?”

“A man’s got to eat.”

Gwen felt sick at his words. She wasn’t even sure if he was being honest or if this was just another attempt at getting information from her.

“I don’t need the help of a human bounty hunter to find my sister.”

He considered her for a long moment before nodding. Then he reached into his black motorcycle jacket and pulled out a card. “In case you change your mind.” When she didn’t move to take it he set in on the desk. He gave her one last smirk before sauntering past her and down the stairs.

She watched from the top step as he closed the front door and then went to Elaine’s window and watched him jump into an unremarkable sedan with California plates. Only when his taillights had disappeared into the dark did she move to go find Owen.

#for betas to read #to delete in a a day or so #comments welcome

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drreporting · 7 years

Text

Echo Pt.3

1st June 2019.

She heard voices speaking in hushed tones around her.

“She performed a spinal drain in the field, with just a frickin’ catheter,” one voice said.

“No way,” the other voice commented in awe.

“And she had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder with a damaged forearm.”

“That’s hard core.” They didn’t sound like people she knew.

—

“Amelia?” Owen managed to mumble as a light shone in his eye.

“I’m right here,” he heard her say. Moments later she was in his line of vision, holding his hand, “Don’t try to move, there’s a catheter in your back.”

“What happened?” he asked, squinting as he tried to move, “Where am I?”

Nathan put an arm on his shoulder to keep him in one place. “Plane crash.”

“Am I okay?” he asked as tears came to his eyes, “I don’t want to die. I don’t want-“

“You’re not going to die,” Amelia angrily said as she combed a hand through his hair, praying to God that she could keep that promise.

—

She opened her eyes to find three doctors, in light green scrubs, hovering over her bed.

“Crap, she’s awake,” the first voice from before said, dashing out of her patient room. The others quickly followed him. Interns, she thought as she analysed her surroundings. This was not Grey Sloan, but it was a hospital. One of her hands was thoroughly bandaged, while the other was filled with needles pushing drugs into her.

“She should be waking up very soon, especially since everything went well,” a voice said.

“Thank you so much for taking care of them, Dr. Moreau,” she heard Derek say.

“Amelia?” Meredith called as she, Derek, and a doctor, entered her room, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” she answered as if it was the most normal thing that she was pulling out her IV, “There’s morphine in this bag.”

The doctor looked at her in confusion. “It’s for the pain…”

“She has a drug addiction,” Derek explained to the surgeon. With her bandaged hand, she was struggling to rip the IV out, so Derek walked over to the IV line and stopped the drip. “You’re going to be begging for this medication very soon once you feel that pain.”

“I think I’ll live,” she answered curtly, “Where am I?”

“We are in a hospital in Maryland,” Meredith responded, “The chief is organising to have you all transferred to Grey Sloan in a couple of hours.”

“Where is everyone?” Amelia continued, “Where is Owen?”

“Alex, Jo, Nathan and Maggie are okay,” Derek told her, “In total it’s just broken ribs, dislocated joints, some internal bleeding. But they’re all mostly okay.”

“Derek, where is Owen?” Amelia repeated herself, knowing he was ignoring that part of the question.

“Cross is temporarily paralysed until they do a surgery to restore blood flow; Edwards had a brain bleed that they evacuated. Oh, Maggie has some really bad PTSD…” he rambled on.

Looking to Meredith now, whom had remained grimly silent for the whole conversation, Amelia asked, “Mer, where is Owen?”

The general surgeon hesitantly looked at her husband, then the surgeon, before looking back at Amelia. “He’s…in the room next to yours.”

“Is he okay?” she asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes, “Can I see him?” Everyone looked at her, no one wanting to talk. She noticed these sombre expressions on their faces and knew immediately what was wrong. “He’s in a coma or something, isn’t he?” Their looks of pity were all she needed to know that everything she’d done to try to save him was all in vain.

“I should have never done that lumbar puncture,” she berated herself, feeling a dull pressure in her arm, “I should have never given him that stupid IV.” Meredith watched as her vitals became slowly elevated on the monitor.

“Amy, that is not true,” Derek said, “You practically saved Owen’s life with your quick thinking. No one else would’ve imagined doing a lumbar puncture in the field, or creating a hypertonic saline bag out of salt and saline, not even I.” When she didn’t acknowledge his words, he added, “There are news reporters, and chiefs of surgery from hospitals all over the country, who are dying to interview you. You and I both know if you hadn’t done what you did, Owen would be brain dead right now.”

“He’s in a coma, Derek!” she shouted, feeling her heart racing in her chest, “That is almost the same thing!” Her monitor began beeping, displaying concerning vitals as she hyperventilated.

“Okay, you two need to leave,” Dr. Moreau insisted as he called a nurse, “And she needs to go back on that pain medication.”

“No,” Amelia enforced through her panic attack and the pain in her hand, “Tell them, Derek. Please.” There were tears in her eyes now. “Just let me see him.” It killed him to see her like this.

He and Meredith were kindly let out of the room as nurses entered to control the situation. It was a mess of screaming and fighting and restraining between Amelia and the nurses. At one point, Derek had to look away; he couldn’t handle to see her like this. It reminded him of when she’d OD’d. He would never be able to forget the look of pure fear and desperation on her face as a young, 16 year old Amelia begged and cried for him to make them stop what they were doing; to make them stop hurting her. He was seeing that little girl now, as they restrained her and injected a sedative into her IV. It brought tears to his eyes. He hated himself for not being able to do what she needed.

5 months ago.

Owen ran his hand along her side, under the cover. “It’s impossible that everyone’s been this quiet for so long. I can’t believe it.”

“Shh, don’t jinx it,” Amelia whispered to him as she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, looping her leg around his waist, “Who knows when next this’ll happen.”

Owen chuckled in agreement. “So…should we go again?”

There was silence on her end before she sighed loudly and stretched. “I don’t see why not.” He laughed at her feigned indifference as she brought her lips to his.

Just then, they heard Ryan’s muffled voice. “Mom, two people are at the door!”

Amelia groaned in frustration while Owen said, “I’ll get it.” He slipped out of their shared bed.

“No, ignore it,” she told him, pulling on his hand to bring him back.

“Ten minutes and then we’ll finish this, okay?” he promised her. Begrudgingly, she agreed.

About 8 minutes later, Ryan came up to Amelia’s bedroom, knocking first. “Mom?”

“Come in,” she said, throwing on Owen’s shirt.

Ryan opened the door, looking concerned. “Owen’s been staring at the door for a really long time.”

Amelia furrowed her eyebrows. Wasn’t someone supposed to be at the door? “Did he open the door?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, who was at the door, Ry?” she inquired further.

Ryan shifted his weight from side to side. “A girl and a boy in green clothes.”

“A girl and a boy in green clothes?” Amelia repeated.

“Yeah,” Ryan confirmed, “They had a bunch of medals on their shirts and they were wearing weird hats, too.” It was only then that it clicked. The army had visited Owen.

“Owen?” Amelia called as she ventured downstairs. Ryan remained at the top of the stairs, staring through the bars at the interaction. Like Ryan had said, the trauma surgeon was staring at the front door, motionless. “Owen,” she tried again, pressing a hand to his shoulder.

He turned around to face her, his eyes red with tears. “They found her.”

She was at a loss for words. Instead, she pulled him in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck as she caressed his hair. “It’s okay,” she told him as he broke down in her arms, “Everything will be fine.”

His legs buckled as he fell on his knees, overtaken by grief and guilt. “I stopped looking for her.” She dutifully followed him to the ground, never letting him go. It was one of many, many breakdowns he’d have in the coming months, breakdowns that’d eventually tear their marriage apart; if only they knew.

3rd June 2019.

She finally opened her eyes to familiar surroundings. Without even asking, she knew she was back in Grey Sloan. There was a cup of jello and a metal spoon on a table next to her, but when she reached for it, something held her hand back.

“Welcome back to Seattle,” she heard Derek say. Looking to her right she saw him lounging on the patient room’s sofa.

“Really?” she asked as she lifted her handcuffed arm.

“You had a psychotic break in Maryland,” Derek justified.

“I didn’t have a psychotic break,” she dismissed, “I was simply in pain and worried about my husband.”

“And what did you expect from acting like that?” he countered, “To be treated as if everything was okay? They had to sedate you, Amelia. A lot.” He laughed to himself. “You just wouldn’t go down.”

She began giggling too. “I remember, I was there.”

“You’ve been asleep for over 24 hours because of it,” he said, settling into a soft chuckle.

Amelia shook her head and smiled. “Whatever. I’m not a psycho.”

“Okay, psycho,” Derek teased, making her roll her eyes, “Owen is awake, by the way, so you didn’t kill him, like I told you.”

“He is?” she confirmed, her heart fluttering at the news.

“Well, he’s usually not awake for long,” he explained, “And he doesn’t talk much, just mostly asks for jello and water. Maybe you can get him to talk a little more.”

“Can I see him?” she inquired.

Derek smiled. “Yes you can see him, but only if you promise not to carve my eye out with that spoon.” Amelia rolled her eyes.

—

“Are you sure you should’ve given her his medical chart?” Meredith asked Derek.

“Definitely,” he answered, “If she’s anything like me, which she is, she’ll need to know exactly what’s been happening, in detail. For her peace of mind.”

Amelia looked through the chart, reading the various notes recorded, from their initial hospital visit, to when they were all moved to Seattle. They’d noted everything she’d done to him in the crash, even. Thinking back on it was hard for her to do; it brought her so much anxiety knowing things could’ve gone so much worse.

“Why are you looking at my medical chart?” she heard Owen say. Looking up, she was met with his crystal blue gaze and confused expression, his head snugly wrapped in gauze.

Amelia smiled, relieved to see his eyes again. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“A patient shouldn’t be looking at my medical chart,” he quipped, eyeing her apparel and the IV bag that was next to her on a stand.

“Very funny, Owen,” she said, “But, how are you feeling? Any pain or pressure?”

“Hey, you’re awake again,” Derek said as he and Meredith entered the room, “How are you feeling this time around?”

“So we have patients running around pretending to be doctors now?” Owen asked, referring to Amelia, “Why is she in my room reading my chart?” Amelia sat there in confusion, wondering why he was being so hostile.

Derek furrowed his eyebrows, pulling out his penlight. “Owen, what year is it?” he asked as he shone the light in both his eyes.

Owen remained silent for a long moment. “Uh, I-I’m…”

“Okay, what is the last thing you remember,” Meredith tried now, hoping to jog his memory.

Owen thought long and hard for a couple minutes before answering. “I think I was having lunch with you and Derek. Uh…you were mad at him because…” He got quiet again as he thought. “He was trying to convince me to drive his sister from LA.” He brought a hand to his temple. “I…I can’t remember exactly what her name was.” Owen looked back to the woman staring at him, with his medical chart in her hands, before looking at Derek again. “I don’t want to be rude, but can you make her leave? I don’t really know who she is and she’s making me uncomfortable.” Derek looked at Meredith and they both looked at Amelia, who was staring mindlessly at the closed chart in front of her. They couldn’t read her expression, but they were almost certain it was either one of shock or grief, or both.

“Owen,” Derek said slowly, “My sister’s name was Amelia…”

Owen raised an eyebrow. “Okay…”

Pointing to Amelia, Derek said, “This is Amelia.”

Owen raised both his eyebrows now. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

“Amelia is your wife, Owen,” Derek finished, unsure of how the information would affect him. Amelia looked up at Owen, hoping to see some sort of glimmer of realisation in his eyes. Instead, his facial expression became even more confused, irritated even.

“Is this a joke?” the trauma surgeon asked, “Because it’s not funny.” Looking at Amelia, he said, “Get her out of my room. Now.” When no one made any movements, he became more vocal. “Did you hear me?” He looked directly at Amelia. “Get out!”

#echo #owelia #omelia #amen #amenfics #oweliafics #omeliafics #rymelia #rymeliafics #amelia shepherd #owen hunt #ryan shepherd #derek shepherd #meredith grey #au #au fics #fanfiction

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thepanicoffice · 5 years

Text

The Life & Exhaustive Works of Richard O. Jones - Part II

[...]

Chapter V: Untold Riches (or, The Lost Years)

In 2014, Jones came into the third of his seven inheritances. He invested heavily in Lego, amassing a collection to rival that of the Sultan of Brunei.

It was at this point that he made a calculated move into the political arena. Becoming the MP for Wenchlett North with exceptional ease, despite having never lived near, visited, or even mentioned the Northumbrian town. During his time in Parliament he helped to improve the working conditions of librarians – an act for which he receives little recognition by the Librarians Guild of the UK – and calculated a new tax policy that had the undesired effect of making domestic products, such as corn and beef, too expensive to actually be harvested. He was also an advocate for returning to the gold standard, stating that “Every man should be able to build even the most minor fortifications with his own personal wealth. One could scarcely gather together a coherent nest if one possesses only bank-notes, and such a thing would be ludicrous”[1].

This career, like all his others, was to be short-lived. He was soon dismissed from office for using a ceremonial cannon to mix alcoholic beverages in. Embarrassed, he fled to Morocco, where he became chief of a Bedouin tribe for a spell. Finally, in 2015 returned to England, destitute and addicted to citric fruits and Elm-bark.

His ignoble return was heralded by a ballsy, if incoherent, letter to me, which read as follows:

Maslin, you pisswhiskered cad!

I am returning. Be ready at once and let me fulfil you sexually.

Ensure the larder is stocked with bergamot oranges – I have developed a keen taste for them. I will suck the sharp, bitter seeds from your bellybutton!

Fear me! Love me!

Yours, in zesty, erotic longing,

R.O. Jones

He returned and, after a restraining order and several payments, the threat of erogenous interference was lifted.

_____________________________________________________

Chapter VI: A Foray into Health

At around the same time that I received a promotion at the British Medical Association, Jones predictably decided to purchase a medical licence from a dubious Hawaiian university and illegally set up practice as a doctor. He initially specialised in acute internal medicine and gastroenterology, before changing completely to urological surgery – a move he explained simply in a letter to a friend, saying “slicing up penises makes me unaccountably happy”.

His contributions to medicine in this period were not so much contributions as detractions. Some conservative critics estimate that during his brief occupation as secretary to the Surgeon General he set modern medicine back at least 20 years. The ever-scathing critic J.P. Scritchling goes so far as to say that, were it not for his involvement, the Zika virus would have been wiped out some time in the early 2015.

Perhaps mercifully, he retired from medicine only a few months after he had first started, but not before claiming a very lucrative pension from the NHS.

_________________________________________________________

Chapter VIII: The Age of Omar

In March 2015, tiring of his bachelor lifestyle, Jones decided to alleviate the inevitable loneliness that attends the superwealthy by acquiring a dark black feline companion. This was Omar, a mild-mannered, sweet-natured puma, who Jones won from a big game hunter in a drink-fuelled round of partnership whist.

Omar was to become Jones’ closest companion, in many ways the closest thing to a true friend and a competent financial advisor that he ever had. Together, they whiled away long evenings smoking cigars, drinking brandy, and sharing tales of the Orient. Jones’ long-time housekeeper and occasional lover, Susan, also grew especially fond of Omar, treating the puma like the child that Jones had so consistently refused to give her.

_________________________________________________________

Chapter VIII: Shouting at Cripples and Early Retirement

Having been visited one night by three ghosts, Jones found himself racked by a strange gnawing feeling. Doctors later confirmed that this affliction was a sense of guilt. In an effort to rid himself of it, he took a position with a disability charity in Brighton. He found this work incredibly fulfilling, later saying to a tribunal, “bellowing at cripples until they sort themselves out a bit is hard work. How fortunate I am that my hobby is now also my job!”

His diligent service was never properly recognised by his employer, an inveterate alcoholic and practitioner of witchcraft G. Mumblewasp. The two feuded horribly before this acrimony was cut short by her untimely spontaneous combustion. Shaken by the death of his nemesis, he briefly fled the country, before realising that the police had recorded a verdict of accidental death. He then entered into early retirement.

In emulation of his long-time hero Tony Blair, he toyed with the idea of a return to the political sphere. Inspired by the shock Brexit vote of 2016, he decided to stand as a prospective parliamentary candidate for the Panic Party[2] and push for a referendum on ending what he described as “the nation’s decadent over-reliance on paperclips”.

Ever a moth that strays within flirtatious proximity of a flame, he was taken into custody for ballot tampering. Prima facie, the Crown’s case against him is a damningly robust one: he was found at the wheel of a van full of postal votes originally bound for Kettering, where Mr Jones was standing. Given that he was stopped driving at full speed toward the precipice of Beachy Head, some 150 miles away, his defence of ‘post-election stroll’ fell on understandably deaf ears.

As such, for several weeks he remained at Her Majesty’s Pleasure (and, knowing the incorrigible rascal as I do, I’d venture to say at Her Majesty’s Utmost Satisfaction) until he was able to pull together enough funds to enlist a stout defence counsel. Fortunately, they soon spotted the key to his extrication. Due to an unusual and poorly worded Kettering byelaw, an individual can only be prosecuted for ballot tampering in the event that they have done successfully and won the election. So rare is it that a person who rigs an election manages to finish, as Jones himself did, only a distant third place, that the rule evidently failed to apply to his foray into the world of electoral fraud.

In spite of his exoneration, he nevertheless made a bewildering and unnecessary attempt to escape the prison at HMP Crudswill. Some days after the audacious breakout[3], Jones was seen doggy-paddling away from the coast of Zanzibar with a waterproof briefcase clenched between his grizzled teeth. He returned to his Brighton home some weeks later, having remembered that he had a lecture on Clive of India to deliver at the British Museum.

_________________________________________________________

Chapter IX: The Complete Life

As biographer-elect, I find myself in the difficult situation of needing – of necessity – to outlive my subject. No biography worthy of the name should be considered complete while the subject yet has anecdotes to live through; while there are still events in the life to come, so too must there be ink in the quill. And yet, I have no hope of outliving him by natural means. Mine is a weakened constitution, subsiding as I do on a wholly inadequate diet of unidentifiable meats, sugar paste, and miscellaneous proteins. Conversely, he is in rude health, owing perhaps to the many years he has spent eating only poached eggs. Therefore, I find myself in the unusual position of being obliged to end my subject’s life, to ensure that this chronicle remains exhaustive, definitive, and complete.

On what I will optimistically describe as the last night of his life, Jones returned from visiting friends in Charing Cross to his Brighton home. The door (a forbidding ivy green slab) has been closed and the latch clicked. I have seen a light go on in what, based on my previous attempts to break in, I believe to be his study.

Red, animal details, such as the trajectory of the bullet, the biogeographical location of the entrance and exit wounds, etc., etc., shall be fleshed out in the fullness of time. Assuming the gaol or prison (however it pleases Her Majesty) in which I will find myself following my arrest will supply me with paper and pen then I hope to have the final chapter concluded within a few months. But, dear reader, please rest assured that whether scrawled in a cell or spat down from a black thundercloud on high, I will conclude this biography - The Life and Exhaustive Works of Richard Owen Jones, to preserve his wretched existence and stand in his judgment eternal.

I have loaded the gun. Wish me luck.

_______________________________________________________

Chapter X: After the Murder

Publisher’s note: We have yet to receive the final chapter of this book. The author was last seen entering the home of Richard Jones on the 11th May 2019. Has not been heard from again.

________________________________________________________

[1] Amis Feckbat, Obscure Matters of Parliament: 2014-15, [2nd Ed.] (Avon: Occiput Publishing, 2016), (p.709)

[2] Slogan: “Bewildering policies for a bewildered electorate”

[3] Confidential reports suggest that he persuaded two washerwomen to dress as prison guards and smuggle the head warden out under some clothes, while, in the sheer confusion, he walked quite serenely through the back door.

#Maslin #Editor #Richard Jones #Deputy Vice Editor #Vile Calumny #Biography

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secondjellyfishpretends · 4 years

Text

Book Club Options!

1. The Lying Game

2. The Immortalists

3. The Rules of Magic

4. The Woman in the Window

5. Death on the Nile

Descriptions below. Enjoy!

1. The Lying Game:

On a cool June morning, a woman is walking her dog in the idyllic coastal village of Salten along a tidal estuary known as the Reach. Before she can stop him, the dog charges into the water to retrieve what first appears to be a wayward stick, but to her horror, turns out to be something much more sinister... The next morning, three women in and around London—Fatima, Thea, and Isabel—receive the text they had always hoped would NEVER come, from the fourth in their formerly inseparable clique, Kate, that says only, “I need you.” The four girls were best friends at Salten, a second rate boarding school set near the cliffs of the English Channel. Each different in their own way, the four became inseparable and were notorious for playing the Lying Game, telling lies at every turn to both fellow boarders and faculty, with varying states of serious and flippant nature that were disturbing enough to ensure that everyone steered clear of them. The myriad and complicated rules of the game are strict: no lying to each other—ever. Bail on the lie when it becomes clear it is about to be found out. But their little game had consequences, and the girls were all expelled in their final year of school under mysterious circumstances surrounding the death of the school’s eccentric art teacher, Ambrose (who also happens to be Kate’s father). Atmospheric, twisty, and with just the right amount of chill that will keep you wrong-footed—which has now become Ruth Ware’s signature style—The Lying Game is sure to be her next big bestseller. Another unputdownable thriller from the Agatha Christie of our time.

2. The Immortalists

If you knew the date of your death, how would you live your life? It's 1969 in New York City's Lower East Side, and word has spread of the arrival of a mystical woman, a traveling psychic who claims to be able to tell anyone the day they will die. The Gold children—four adolescents on the cusp of self-awareness—sneak out to hear their fortunes. The prophecies inform their next five decades. Golden-boy Simon escapes to the West Coast, searching for love in '80s San Francisco; dreamy Klara becomes a Las Vegas magician, obsessed with blurring reality and fantasy; eldest son Daniel seeks security as an army doctor post-9/11; and bookish Varya throws herself into longevity research, where she tests the boundary between science and immortality. A sweeping novel of remarkable ambition and depth, The Immortalists probes the line between destiny and choice, reality and illusion, this world and the next. It is a deeply moving testament to the power of story, the nature of belief, and the unrelenting pull of familial bonds.

3. The Rules of Magic

Find your magic. For the Owens family, love is a curse that began in 1620, when Maria Owens was charged with witchery for loving the wrong man. Hundreds of years later, in New York City at the cusp of the sixties, when the whole world is about to change, Susanna Owens knows that her three children are dangerously unique. Difficult Franny, with skin as pale as milk and blood red hair, shy and beautiful Jet, who can read other people’s thoughts, and charismatic Vincent, who began looking for trouble on the day he could walk. From the start Susanna sets down rules for her children: No walking in the moonlight, no red shoes, no wearing black, no cats, no crows, no candles, no books about magic. And most importantly, never, ever, fall in love. But when her children visit their Aunt Isabelle, in the small Massachusetts town where the Owens family has been blamed for everything that has ever gone wrong, they uncover family secrets and begin to understand the truth of who they are. Yet, the children cannot escape love even if they try, just as they cannot escape the pains of the human heart. The two beautiful sisters will grow up to be the memorable aunts in Practical Magic, while Vincent, their beloved brother, will leave an unexpected legacy. Alice Hoffman delivers “fairy-tale promise with real-life struggle” (The New York Times Book Review) in a story how the only remedy for being human is to be true to yourself. Thrilling and exquisite, real and fantastical, The Rules of Magic is “irresistible…the kind of book you race through, then pause at the last forty pages, savoring your final moments with the characters” (USA TODAY, 4/4 stars).

4. The Woman in the Window

#1 New York Times Bestseller – Soon to be a Major Motion Picture starring Amy Adams, Julianne Moore, and Gary Oldman

For readers of Gillian Flynn and Tana French comes one of the decade’s most anticipated debuts, to be published in thirty-six languages around the world and already in development as a major film from Fox: a twisty, powerful Hitchcockian thriller about an agoraphobic woman who believes she witnessed a crime in a neighboring house.

It isn’t paranoia if it’s really happening . . .

Anna Fox lives alone—a recluse in her New York City home, unable to venture outside. She spends her day drinking wine (maybe too much), watching old movies, recalling happier times . . . and spying on her neighbors.

Then the Russells move into the house across the way: a father, a mother, their teenage son. The perfect family. But when Anna, gazing out her window one night, sees something she shouldn’t, her world begins to crumble—and its shocking secrets are laid bare.

What is real? What is imagined? Who is in danger? Who is in control? In this diabolically gripping thriller, no one—and nothing—is what it seems.

Twisty and powerful, ingenious and moving, The Woman in the Window is a smart, sophisticated novel of psychological suspense that recalls the best of Hitchcock.

5. Death on the Nile

Agatha Christie's most exotic murder mystery. The tranquillity of a cruise along the Nile is shattered by the discovery that Linnet Ridgeway has been shot through the head. She was young, stylish and beautiful, a girl who had everything – until she lost her life. Hercule Poirot recalls an earlier outburst by a fellow passenger: ‘I’d like to put my dear little pistol against her head and just press the trigger.’ Yet in this exotic setting’ nothing is ever quite what it seems… In Death on the Nile, Hercule Poirot’s Egyptian adventure aboard a glamorous river steamer descends into a terrifying search for a murderer when an idyllic honeymoon is shattered by violent deaths. This sinister tale of obsessive love and its murderous consequences plays out in an epic landscape of danger and foreboding, with enough shocking twists and turns to leave audiences unsettled and guessing until the final, shocking denouement.

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amylanchester · 7 years

Text

PitchWars #PimpMyBio

Hi, I’m Amy.

This is my first ever PitchWars, and I’m hyped af.

About My Manuscript

Title: More Fierce Than Fire (title comes from here)

Genre: YA Contemporary Fantasy

Word Count: 75,000

Comps: The Young Elites by Marie Lu, The Story of Owen by E. K. Johnston

Sixteen-year-old Abigail Hunter, the best healer in Grady Hospital’s Magical Trauma Ward, has a secret. Ten years ago, Abby wished her mother dead on the worst possible day—the day dragons awoke and brought magical powers to everyone in the world. Abby's angry wish became the powerful spell that ended her mother's life.

Abby has devoted her life to healing magic to atone for the sins of her past. Though she’s still afraid of losing control, she has become increasingly aware of the threat the dragons pose and frustrated that she is helpless to do anything about it. Hoping to develop the skills required to protect others, she joins a new United Nations-sponsored program which promises to give her the chance to work directly with the dragons and their victims. Training with some of the best young mages in the world, she prepares for the war to come.

And the war is coming. When a group of unregistered mages leads the dragons in a deadly attack on American cities, Abby must decide if she’s ready to join the fight against them, or if she’ll be stuck reliving the mistakes of her past forever.

A Note About Diversity

Diversity is extremely important to me in my writing. Most of the characters in my book other than my MC are POC and/or LGBTQ. I did not feel that I had the skill or experience to write a first-person perspective for a POC/LGBTQ character, so I didn’t. However, I have been fortunate to grow up in an extremely diverse place, so I’ve included a number of POC/LGBTQ characters (loosely) based on real people. I feel that authentic, thoughtful representation is important in all forms of media and am hoping to find a mentor who feels the same.

MS Pinterest Board

Novel Aesthetic (Quotes & More on My Instagram)

About Me

Let’s start this the way you did back in pre-school. My name is Amy Lanchester, and I’m twenty-eight years old. My favorite color is pink (and has been since long before millennial pink became a thing #ILikedItBeforeItWasCool). More Fierce Than Fire is my first novel.

I’m “from Atlanta” in the way that most people who say they are “from Atlanta” are “from Atlanta,” in that I actually grew up about thirty minutes away and only moved to the city as an adult. I set my book here because I feel that entirely too many books are set in NYC, London, or Chicago.

I’ve been funemployed for the past year.

I started my first “real job” before I’d even finished my master’s degree, and after working there for three years, I decided I wanted to do a few things before I’m too old/settled. So I’ve traveled Europe:

ALL

OVER

EUROPE

and the western United States:

ALL

OVER

THE

WILD

WEST

and I finally achieved a life goal in writing this book. I highly recommend taking a “gap year” to anyone who is able.

I live with my boyfriend and our beautiful asshole of a cat, Bret. We found him about two years ago at a local McDonald’s hanging out near the drive-thru. We went back the next day and lured him out with bits of hamburger, and he’s been our lovable jerk of a pet ever since.

Why You Should Mentor Me

- I am really, really serious about this. I’ve devoted an insane amount of time, energy, and research on this project in the past year and fully intend to see it through all the way. I love and believe in my work.

- I am crazy meticulous. I come from a STEM background, and I use the tools I learned there in my work. I’m a firm believer in spreadsheets, outlines, automation, and using technology to the fullest. I am a grammar nut who googles everything she isn’t sure about and spends hours nerding out reading style guides and grammar blogs.

- I take criticism well. I’m a fairly self-critical person who is realistic about her flaws and shortcomings. Though I love my work, I know it is far from perfect, and I am greatly looking forward to receiving a thoughtful critique. You won’t hurt my feelings. I want my work to be the best it can be, and I know that takes knowledge and experience I don’t have.

Writing History

I had the idea for my MS in May 2016. It was inspired by this tumblr post which made its way to reddit (a site I love and hate and spend entirely too much time on):

I decided I could write that book, and so I did. I wrote a prologue that I cut and part of the first chapter on a train from Warsaw to Berlin in September. I made an outline when I got back home in October, and I wrote the rest of the book during NaNoWriMo 2016. I did finish my 50,000 words in November, but the book wasn’t done. I had a completed (terrible) first draft of about 55,000 words by the first week of December.

My first draft was mostly just dialogue and action. I discovered that I hate writing description as much as I hate reading it. So my next several drafts mostly involved adding description to scenes, and it took forever. I cut several scenes and characters entirely during this process and added a few more scenes and characters, bringing my final word count to 75,000 words. My current draft contains very little from the original NaNoWriMo draft, and believe me, that’s for the best.

Writing Style

I am definitely a planner. I would have gotten nowhere without my outline or character spreadsheet. However, most of my character’s personalities came out through writing their dialogue. I used dialogue (that I went back and cut because it was boring and redundant) to solve plot problems and work out motivations in scenes. If I ever got stuck, I just started writing a conversation between my characters, and it solved basically all of my problems.

How I Write

I started writing in Scrivener, a program I’d gotten for free when I worked at the Apple Store back in 2010. It helped me a lot with organizing scenes and research. I transitioned to Google Docs after a save file got corrupted and I spent an evening panicking that I’d lost everything (I hadn’t, thank God). Google Docs sucks for long documents, but it saves to the cloud every few seconds, so I suffered through it.

I write at night almost exclusively. My best creative work comes after midnight, and usually once I’m already in bed.

I dread having to get back on a normal schedule because the night owl life is best for my writing.

Favorite Writing Resources

- Excel/Google Sheets

- Grammar Girl

- Chicago Manual of Style (I’m too poor to actually own this, but I use their FAQs and this hyphenation table all the time.)

- Hemingway Editor

- Grammarly

- ProWritingAid

Upcoming Projects Preview

I have so many ideas. I think of new project ideas every day, and I constantly struggle not to get distracted by my newest, shiniest concept. Here are a couple of things I’ve started planning:

- Shakespeare’s plays retold in a combined setting like into the Woods or Marissa Meyer’s The Lunar Chronicles. A central, overarching series plot with individual volumes devoted to some of the plots of the original plays. I’ll be combining side characters from one show with main characters from another.

- A space opera/sci-fi series centered on a girl who rescues an alien from a hostile species at war with Earth’s space empires. The aliens have superior technology and are annihilating the space colonies, but we can’t communicate with them. My MC and her android nanny devise a method for rudimentary communication and are captured by government forces who have ulterior motives.

Stuff I Like

Books

- Harry Potter, obviously. Prisoner of Azkaban is my favorite. I spent years convincing myself I was a Gryffindor like Hermione, my hero, but I’m really a Ravenclaw.

- The Young Elites by Marie Lu

- Exit, Pursued by a Bear by E. K. Johnston

- A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin

- Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

- Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov

- 1984 by George Orwell

- Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes

TV Shows

I freaking love TV.

I’m convinced that if Ray Bradbury had lived in the Golden Age of Television that we’re living through, he would never have written Fahrenheit 451.

A short list of shows I love: Futurama, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Parks and Recreation, BoJack Horseman, Game of Thrones, The Handmaid’s Tale, Breaking Bad, The Wire, Jessica Jones, Broadchurch, Steven Universe, Stranger Things, You’re the Worst, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend

Musicals

I love Broadway so much.

I’ve been in (school productions of) Once on This Island, Les Miserables, Into the Woods, and Dreamgirls. Other shows I love include Hamilton, The Book of Mormon, The Last Five Years, Aida, Phantom of the Opera, Evita, The Sound of Music, Fiddler on the Roof, and West Side Story.

Cosplay

I picked up cosplay a few years back. I didn’t own a sewing machine, didn’t know how to sew, and had limited crafting experience. I taught myself using books, online tutorials, and YouTube videos. Some of my projects:

Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones

Chell from Portal

Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter

Elsa from Frozen

Joy from Inside Out

Eleven from Stranger Things

That was entirely too long, and I’m sorry.

If you read this far, you’re probably my soulmate. Please send me a message on Twitter and let me know. :)

#pimpmybio #pitchwars #writers on tumblr

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