Tumgik
#john morgan studio
garadinervi · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Garry Fabian Miller: 'Home Dartmoor', Designed by John Morgan studio, Filtow, Newton Abbot, 2012 [© Garry Fabian Miller]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
«The book is built around an extended conversation between Fabian Miller and Dr Tom Greeves, a cultural environmentalist and expert on Dartmoor. Contains archival material, maps and a group of new works, these selected for an exhibition at the Royal Albert Memorial Museum, Exeter»
16 notes · View notes
4youandi · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Javier Escuella
193 notes · View notes
boingopilled69 · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
this one is called brosdoomedbythenarrative.csp if that tells you anything
37 notes · View notes
envy-ghost · 1 year
Text
I haven't been feeling super inspired lately so I experimented with something different today! I think it came out alright, I've been thinking about silhouettes lately too so it was nice to play around with those sort of shapes
Tumblr media
133 notes · View notes
Text
11 notes · View notes
nightmare-galore · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
My Arthur vs my John holding a cup
Arthur looks like that one grumpy kid who doesn’t want to take their picture of in a group photo, while John is proud with his drink.
24 notes · View notes
jjasportstudio · 1 year
Link
2 notes · View notes
thongmarston · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Roger also posted a pic of him and Rob from dragoncon, of course i had to draw that one too. Decided to use the picture as reference to draw John and Arthur goofing around. And i told myself that i need to draw these together more ❤️
1 note · View note
crepesuzette2023 · 25 days
Note
Hold up ,,, Mal called Paul his love in his diaries?
Yes. In his autobiography. He also analyzed their relationship in his diaries. For some context, here's a longer passage from Ken Womack's book, Living the Beatles Legend (Chapter 31).
As January 1970 came to close, Mal began drifting into an emotional slide that has been developing over the past several years. "Seem to be losing Paul," he wrote on January 27. "Really got a stick from him today. He let me down," and ominously added "Fixing a hole," "Pepper," and "directorship" to a growing list of disappointments. Apparently, the conversation had turned yet again to the issue of Mal's servile role in Paul's life, with the roadie believing that the association was bounded by friendship and love. "A servant serves," Mal wrote, "but he who serves is not always a servant," he added, echoing John's philosophy from December 1968. "Love is as sharp and piercing as a sword, "Mal reasoned, "but as the sword edge dulls — you sharpen it. So love's keenness needs honing — needs honesty." *
[...]
On February 11, Mal joined John and Yoko for a lip-synched performance of "Instant Karma!" on Top of the Pops, with the roadie, clad in beige suit and a light-green tie, playing the tambourine. By this juncture, Mal's long-standing relationship with Paul was in freefall. A few days earlier, he have been awakened by a 1 p.m. telephone call from the Beatle. It went "something like this," he wrote in his diary:
Mal: yeah? Paul: I've got time at EMI over the weekend. Would like you to pick up some gear from the house. Mal: Great, man. That's lovely. Session at EMI?! Paul: Yes, but I don't want anyone there to make me tea. I have the family – wife and kids there. Mal: [thinking to himself] Goes my poor head, "Why????" **
By the next week, Mal found himself behind the wheel of the Apple van, moving Paul's gear from EMI Studios to Morgan Studios, another Northwest London facility where Paul could work incognito. At one point, Neil cornered Mal about Paul surreptitious recording sessions, demanding to know more. "Where's Paul?" he asked, to which Mal tersely replied, "Not telling you."
In other instances, Mal ordered a Mellotron for Paul, while keeping him fully stocked with plectrums and other gear. In late February, Paul asked Mal to move everything back to EMI, where he was set to record "Maybe I'm Amazed" in Studio 2. For Mal, everything came to a head at 7 Cavendish Ave., when "my long love, Paul, to whom I have devoted so many years of loyalty, turned around to me and said, I don't need you anymore, Mal." *** *, ** : Evans, "Diaries." [1963—1974.] 10 vols. Malcolm Frederick Evans Archives. Entries from Jan 27 & Feb 5, 1970.
***: Evans, Mal, 'Living the Beatles Legend: Or 200 Miles to Go.' Unpublished MS, 1976. Malcolm Frederick Evans Archives.
Tumblr media
125 notes · View notes
julianalvarez9 · 1 year
Text
named after you / john stones
author's note: my mind hasn't stopped thinking about that damn interview where john speaks about bernardo's dog named after him so i had to write this. started as a blurb, ended as a full fic + socmed au. i hate myself.
wc: 1.5k words.
pairing: john stones x footballer!reader (doesn't really impact much of the story, except she's injured).
face claim: esme morgan 💌
contains: excessive use of pet names, roasting jack grealish just because (i love you jack), they're in love but they don't know it, mentions of injury and a foot cast but nothing too detailed (because i don't know shit about injuries)
summary: your best friend is dumbfounded to learn that you've never had a dog, not even as a kid. he goes above and beyond to change that when the circumstances ask for a way to cheer you up.
Tumblr media
"you've never had a dog before?".
john can't believe his ears. but to be fair, everyone at the little studio set where you're filming the next video for city's youtube channel is as incredulous as he is. you just laugh at his reaction, before explaining. "well, i wanted one when i was a kid, but my parents said i was too small to have one. and then i just never asked again".
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
his brows just keep on furrowing, and it's like he had forgotten about the stack of cards he had in hand, with the 20 questions he was supposed to ask you for the video prepared by the team. "yeah, but you're what? 24 now? you could have a dog," he said, like it was obvious. to be fair, he was right. after all, you lived alone: no partner, no kids, no family in the country. having a little pet to take care of and love would make you happy, but you weren't sure if you would have the time to take care of a little dog now, with how packed your schedule is. maybe that's why you hadn't really thought about getting a furry friend. "i suppose. didn't think about it before," you shrug.
"fine. i'm getting you a dog".
Tumblr media Tumblr media
it's been months since that interaction, and you haven't thought about john's promise since. the video went live on the team's youtube channel a few weeks after, and as expected, everyone loved it. the friendship you had with the city player was always cherished by the fans, and you couldn't really blame them. he was your best friend since you arrived in the club, and having his support from the beginning really made the adaptation period easier.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
you realized how much you basked in his affection and care when you suffered a season-ending injury. it wasn't that hard, to be honest, but since the end of the season was less than a month away, you knew that the recovery period would be longer than what it took to get you back on the pitch in time for the last game. john has been there from the first moment, sending you a message as soon as he saw you went down on the grass. you only saw it after the medical exams were done, when the doctors had already told you that you probably wouldn't get to play again until next season.
facing the reality about you not being there for your teammates, not being able to help them in any way, shape or form, at least where it mattered to you -in the pitch-, was rough. you went from the training center for recovery to home, all day, every day, never getting quite far from the prefabricated route: your only focus was to get healthy again. you weren't even seeing john that often, with his schedule being as overwhelming as always and you don’t even daring to set a foot in the etihad if you weren't there to play.
but john, your good best friend john, knew exactly what to do to cheer you up.
“are you home?”.
the call alone was weird. john wasn’t one to talk much on the phone, and much less, while driving. if he wasn’t using free hands, you’ll kill him. “why are you calling me while driving, stones?”.
“asked you a question first. answer, little one”.
the nickname alone made you roll your eyes, and he swore he could picture your annoyed face in his mind. the joke had been running between you two ever since you two meet, really, not only because of the slight age gap, but also, due to how he towered over you. wasn’t rocket science, it was what his position on the field demanded, while you, as a striker, only had to be quick. “yeah, dad, i’m home”.
“whoa, what an attitude. i’m about to get home, so you better fix it”.
you couldn't even process him calling your place home, or protest against him coming without a longer notice -not a 2 second warning, like this one, because he had already hung up before you could even mutter a confused “what?”.
if looks could kill, you’d be charged with a murder.
you’re glaring at john’s car from the second it sets a wheel into your front yard. he’s quick in parking the car and stepping out of it, but instead of going to greet you, standing on the doorway with your arms crossed, he goes to open his rear door.
“what are you doing?” you ask, almost screaming, to ensure that he hears even if he’s quite far from you. john appears to be arranging something on the back of the car, but he smiles when answering your question. “go inside. wait on the sofa. eyes closed”.
you’re about to make a funny comment, except his smile goes away the second you take too long to fulfill his wishes. you decide to quit being difficult and, with a bit of difficulty due to the cast shoe you have in your feet, make your way to the couch. your eyes remain open, though, watching the match your team was playing on the tv. once you heard the door closing, you shut your eyes.
“do you have your hands ready?”.
you frown, but still, your arms are extended with your palms up per john’s request. soon, you’re opening up your eyes when you feel a warm ball of fur placed on your hands.
“john, did you get me a dog?”.
you almost have tears in your eyes when you place the little jack russell on your lap, and it curls into a ball, falling asleep almost instantly. “isn’t he the prettiest boy ever?” john coos, squatting so he can get a good look at the little dog you’re holding. “john, i can’t have a dog. i’m never at home,” you rationalize once the initial emotion has settled in. you start to think about your schedule, how you’re seemingly always away. the worry must have painted on your face, because the man in front of you notices it, and is quick to find your hand, previously resting on the little canine, to squeeze reassuringly.
“yes, you can. you’re home now, aren’t you?” he smiles, and you’re rolling your eyes, again, for what feels like the hundredth time today. “he’s gonna help with your recovery. but you don’t have to worry about him being alone here once you’re back: our schedules don't always match. when you can't have him, i'll take care of him". the way he’s looking at you now, with his fluffy hair and sweet smile is making you melt almost as much as the sight of the little puppy resting on your legs. 
long seconds pass before any of you say anything, too focused on your little friend, before you realize john hasn’t told you how he’s called. “what’s his name?” you ask, and he looks up at you before shaking his head. “doesn’t have one. it’s up to you”. the smile you have on your face after hearing him speak, has your best friend thinking that you’re up to no good. and he’s proven right when you open your mouth again. 
"i'm naming him after you".
his eyebrows furrow and he’s shaking his head again, clear discontent in his face now. "what? you can't. i won't allow you to," he opposes in a high pitched tone, and you laugh before answering. "why not? he's my dog,” you point out, and the puppy on your lap suddenly wakes up, probably awakened by the small argument held between both of you. you direct your hand to caress his little head, and he rewards you by licking your palm, almost like a little kiss. “i think he likes it. don't you, johnny boy?".
he has to straighten up so you don’t see the smallest pink rose to his cheeks when hearing you say johnny boy. he always told you he despised the nickname, which was why you had stopped using it, but instead, he lied because he liked hearing you say it.
"but why john?" he presses, again, hoping that, maybe, it’ll make you change your mind. he knows it's wishful thinking: after being friends with you for so long, john is aware that when an idea pops into your pretty brain, it’s almost impossible to shake it off. "first, you're the one that got him,” you list off, and it has him rolling his eyes. you think it’s funny how the roles are reversed, and the smallest giggle escapes your list before continuing with your explanation. “second, he's a jack russell".
"and? you could name him after jack," he says, and he’s hopeful when the doubt is planted on your face. it takes you a few seconds before you’re shaking your head, scrunching up your nose in disagreement. "nah, he can't jump that high”. you’ve switched your focus now, from person-john to dog-john, and your voice gets a little higher when speaking to him. “when you grow up you'll jump as high as your daddy here, won't you, pretty boy?".
john feels like he could faint by the amount of pet names that seem to flow effortlessly from your lips. "okay that's enough," he says, and you laugh at how agitated he is. "it's settled then. john stones, meet john stones".
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by johnstonesofficial, jackgrealish and others.
yourusername everyone, meet john stones
View all comments.
jackgrealish glad to see he's into football like his daddy 😂 johnstonesofficial
yourusername such a talented little boy 🤍
johnstonesofficial john stones jr*
yourusername so you're john stones sr?
rubendias 🧓🏻🧓🏻
mancity bring him to training next time! 💙
yourusername will do 🤝🏻
376 notes · View notes
dweemeister · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You must face the age of not believing Doubting everything you ever knew Until at last you start believing There's something wonderful in you
Dame Angela Lansbury, who died at her home today in Los Angeles at the age of 96, is perhaps best known today as Jessica Fletcher in the acclaimed TV series Murder, She Wrote and in the Broadway stage plays and musicals in significant parts that Hollywood never gave her. But well before that, the Irish-British transplant to America (she and her family left Britain at the height of Nazi Germany’s bombing campaign of her home nation) made her career as mostly a character actress during the Golden Age of Hollywood. She may not have been a major star billed at the top of marquees and movie posters during her time while contracted to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM), but she would come to be a recognizable figure to audiences of multiple generations – whether she might be playing a tough saloon owner with a belter of a singing voice, a schoolteacher just making ends meet, Elvis’ mother (despite a nine-year age difference), princesses and queens, the amoral and scheming wife of a political candidate, an emotionally manipulative mother, or a teapot matriarch.
She stepped onto a movie soundstage for the first time at seventeen years of age, while making Gaslight (1944) for MGM. Because she was still technically a minor, she had to be accompanied by a social worker while working on set. Despite this, director George Cukor and her co-stars (including Ingrid Bergman) treated her as equals, all of them recognizing right away her professionality and acting ability. Perhaps producers and studio executives might not have done the same, saddling her so often with character roles, but Lansbury – by all accounts – extended that same kindness Cukor and Bergman afforded to her to so many others over the decades, leaving a legacy that goes beyond whatever personal disappointments she may have had over the more considerable roles she never got to play.
Her distinction as Hollywood royalty came later in life, as our connections of Hollywood’s Golden Age are almost all gone.
Nine of the films Angela Lansbury appeared in follow (left-right, descending):
Gaslight (1944) – directed by George Cukor; also starring Charles Boyer, Ingrid Bergman, Joseph Cotten, and Dame May Whitty
The Harvey Girls (1946) – directed by George Sidney; also starring Judy Garland, John Hodiak, Ray Bolger, Preston Foster, Virginia O’Brien, Kenny Baker, Marjorie Main, Chill Wills, Selena Royle, and Cyd Charisse
The Three Musketeers (1949) – directed by George Sidney; also starring Lana Turner, Gene Kelly, June Allyson, Van Heflin, Frank Morgan, and Vincent Price
The Court Jester (1955) – directed by Melvin Frank and Norman Panama; also starring Danny Kaye, Glynis Johns, Basil Rathbone, and Cecil Parker
The Manchurian Candidate (1962) – directed by John Frankenheimer; also starring Frank Sinatra, Laurence Harvey, and Janet Leigh
Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971) – directed by Robert Stevenson and Ward Kimball; also starring David Tomlinson, Roddy McDowall, Sam Jaffe, John Ericson, Cindy O’Callaghan, Ian Weighill, and Roy Snart
Death on the Nile (1978) – directed by John Guillermin; also starring Peter Ustinov, Jane Birkin, Lois Chiles, Bette Davis, Mia Farrow, Jon Finch, Olivia Hussey, I.S. Johar, George Kennedy, Simon MacCorkindale, David Niven, Maggie Smith, and Jack Warden
Beauty and the Beast (1991) – directed by Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise; also starring Paige O’Hara, Robby Benson, Richard White, Jerry Orbach, David Ogden Stiers, Rex Everhart, Jesse Corti, and Bradley Pierce
Mary Poppins Returns (2018) – directed by Rob Marshall; also starring Emily Blunt, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Ben Whishaw, Emily Mortimer, Pixie Davies, Nathanael Saleh, Joel Dawson, Julie Walters, Meryl Streep, Colin Firth, David Warner, and Dick Van Dyke
302 notes · View notes
jonesyjonesyjonesy · 1 year
Text
Wildflowers (pt. xvii)
a john paul jones x fem!oc fic
summary: Julia Morgan knew nannying for three girls who had recently lost their mother would come with many challenges. But she never thought their father, the enigmatic musician John Paul Jones, would be causing her the most trouble. And while Julia is not in the business of saving broken men, her tenderness might be meant for more than little girls and wildflowers.
table of contents │ previous chapter
masterlist│ko-fi
notes: nsfw
a/n:  Merry Christmas from me to you. Hope it's worth the wait. 💖
Tumblr media
pt. xvii, mulberry
“I feel like following you into the woods is the beginning of a fable of which I am the victim.”
Two weeks without Annie. When the cat’s away, the mice will play. And play we did.
Of course, my time was beholden to the girls and now, without Annie, I had extra responsibilities. On multiple occasions, John asked if he could compensate me for this, but I refused. A complication of sorts, our work relationship versus our newfound personal one. I simply did not want to conflate the two with any more discussion of money.
I couldn’t get enough of John. By day, he was my employer. By night (and morning and sometimes afternoon if we could help it) he was my lover. We hadn’t spent a night apart since his return from Montreux. My bed had become our haven, a safe place for us to talk and touch and tease. Just as the studio had been. But now we were much, much closer than that.
In just the two short weeks, so much had changed. John lasted longer and longer, as he had promised so adamantly. We became more comfortable bearing our bodies to one another, although in the cloak of night, most things feel possible.
I also noticed with the passing days, that John wasn’t just skin and bones anymore. The brittle edges of his ribs softened; his belly curved a bit more. He was hungry again. I’d never claim that I was responsible for this change. It’s just what the excitement of fresh, possible love does to a person. In the first year with Nick, I’d gained nearly a stone, which my mother was not shy to let me know.
Two weeks without Annie. I was exhausted. Kept busy by the girls who I desperately needed back in school as soon as possible. Kept awake by John’s seemingly limitless adoration. Everything was slipping through the cracks. Phone calls and letters went unanswered and much needed alone time fell through my fingers.
And I was so bloody happy.
But of course, all good things must come to an end.
“Annie comes back tomorrow,” John remarked to me while we washed dishes after dinner.
This was our new, after dinner routine. I washed, he dried. Strange to think it had become usual. It would all change tomorrow evening when Annie returned for dinner from her makeshift maternity leave. “Thank goodness. My hands are raw from all the washing. Who knew there was so much laundry?” I said wryly, running a sponge over another dish.
“Three children? Lots of laundry? Utterly shocking,” John chuckled, then looked over his shoulder at the girls who were playing a boardgame without argument (so far). “So, listen, Mo’s mother wants to take the girls to buy new school shoes.”
I handed him the cleaned dish to dry and shook my hands off of the scalding water. “Yeah? When does she want to do that?”
“I told her tomorrow would be good. Give you a day,” he answered and then softly added, “Give me a day.”
We exchanged a glance, John’s blue eyes glinting mischievously. I blushed and returned to the stack of dishes left to be washed.
“Something have you blushing?”
“No, it’s all the steam,” I replied. “Very hot.”
John laughed softly and then leaned his hip against mine, the pressure just enough to be purposeful. Always trying to test the boundaries of what we could get away with when the girls were in the room. “Shame. I was hoping it was my doing.”
My heart fluttered. “Me blushing because of you? Never.”
“Hm…” John buffed the plate in his hand. “Sounds like I need to try harder.”
I handed him the next plate. “You’re playing a dangerous game…”
“Don’t act like you don’t love every second.”
I pursed my lips, trying to hold back a smile. I did love every second. And if I was honest with myself, there was a slim part of me that nearly wished the girls would catch us. I was craving this budding love to be witnessed.
Then there was no way it could be pretend.
The next morning, Mrs. Hegarty arrived at precisely nine o’clock. The girls greeted her enthusiastically with hugs and kisses all around.
“Good spirits, I see,” Mrs. Hegarty grinned.
John sighed, “Yes, they are none the wiser to the exhaustion behind the scenes.”
Mrs. Hegarty touched John fondly on the face before grabbing my hand.  “You look well, Julia.” 
“Oh, you as well. Something to do with all the sunshine, no doubt,” I replied, hoping she didn’t notice how much my hands were sweating. I hadn’t said as much to John, but I was terrified that Maureen’s mother would be able to sniff our dalliance from a mile away.
“How are you spending your day off?” she asked me.
“I…well…errands,” I said and then laughed stupidly. “You know how it is.”
“I do. Always something,” she rolled her eyes. “Especially with little ones.”
“You’re lucky you’re not taking Julia to get new shoes. They have to special order them, her feet are so large,” John remarked dryly.
Mrs. Hegarty smacked him on the arm. “John! Your mouth…”
I gasped in laughter at her unintentional double entendre. “Why didn’t you warn me about this?”
“Then you wouldn’t have taken the job,” she replied, shaking his arm. “You…”
John eyed me with a smug smile on his face. I glared with all my might: You’re going to get it later.
Thankfully, Mrs. Hegarty moved on, ignoring any bit of tension. “Alright, girls. Say goodbye and get in the car.”
The girls did not spend much time on goodbyes, except for Kiera who demanded a kiss from both her father and me. I would die from the joy of domesticity.
“Try to enjoy yourselves at least a bit, hm?” Mrs. Hegarty said with a pointed look toward John. “All the working…not good for a person.”
“I’ll try my best,” John replied, taking her arm in his and leading her out to the car.
I stood at the door and watched as they said another goodbye. The girls leaned out the windows and waved to me. “Julia! Find a flower for me!” Kiera screeched with a big smile.
I laughed to myself. We had spent so much time exploring the woods over the past two weeks, revisiting the Flower Fairy poems, trying to find all the ones we could. Each new flower we found, we’d pick and bring home to press in one of the big encyclopedias kept in the sitting room.
Excursing into the forest hadn’t been a part of my plan for the day. In my imaginings, I only could picture fucking as much as possible in as many rooms as possible. Break in the house as if it was ours, so each nook and cranny had a memory of the way we made each other feel. That way, I could never be forgotten.
But the house was not mine, would never be mine even if John and I continued our intimacy beyond secret rendezvousing. Admittedly, from time to time, I would feel the blunt edge of guilt against my throat.
Warren House was Maureen’s. John had told me as much on the first day arrived. While I was not superstitious and did not believe in ghosts, her trace was in every room. Even the purchasing of the house was entirely for her. After all, she would be the one spending most of her time here and raising their children. In this way, I was overstaying my welcome. There was no part of the house I could claim as my own with John other than my little room.
For this reason, the woods…presented quite an interesting opportunity.
John watched the car peel off, his hands on his hips, his backside looking absolutely edible in his slacks, waiting until it was completely out of sight and then some before turning around to look at me.
We remained quiet as he came to meet me in the doorway. He slid his hands in his pockets and then leaned forward to kiss me. “Well,” he whispered as he drew away. “How would you like to begin?”
I did not reply, instead turning on my heels and making my way through the house to the sitting room. John followed eagerly behind me, but once I opened the door onto the terrace, he faltered.
“Where are you going?”
“For a walk.”
He frowned in confusion.
“You want to come?”
“I’m really not properly dressed.”
I shrugged slightly and then continued on my way outside. John followed without qualming any further, catching up to me and wrapping his arm around my hip. “You’re impossible, you know.”
“Am I really?” I asked and slipped out of his grasp once again, picking up the pace.
“Am I going to have to come after you, then?”
“I guess that depends how bad you want it.”
John’s pupils jumped wider. He cocked his head and curled up his lips. I knew that look. If I didn’t get ahead of him, he’d catch up to me too quickly. And so, I sprinted off in the direction of the woods, leaving him in my wake. He was not far behind me. My heart galloped like a rabbit running from a fox even though I was laughing breathlessly.
I arrived at the mouth of the forest first, where the trees bent like an archway, serving as the gateway into a different, verdant world.
“Alright, you win,” he said through gravelly breaths, approaching with slow strides. “Christ, I didn’t know how out of shape…”
I leant up against one of the trees, waiting for him with a smile. “Have to get out more, John.”
“Suppose so. Although with you around that doesn’t seem to be a problem,” he murmured.
I tucked my hands between my back and the bark. “Well?”
John approached me slowly, eyes scanning me up and down, until he was right in front of me. Too close if we were strangers. Much too close for my employer. He was still trying to catch his breath, each measured one softly touching my cheeks. “Well, what?”
I tilted my head back with a smile.
John didn’t tease me further; he kissed me softly, a hand to my waist and another by my head against the tree. One kiss turned to two, to three until he broke away and muttered, “If I couldn’t run from there to here, I really doubt I can get a leg over up against a tree.”
I cackled, grabbing his hand. “No, no, we’ve got to go for a walk first.”
John resisted me, feet staunchly planted. “I feel like following you into the woods is the beginning of a fable of which I am the victim.”
“Are you calling me a temptress?”  
“Yes. Absolutely,” he answered adamantly. “You’re a witch.” 
I tugged on him harder. John took several steps toward me. I was weakening him.
“You like to spirit a man away from his home and trap him with your feminine wiles,” he added.
“It gets lonely in the woods, how could you blame me?” I asked, adding to this mythology we were creating. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”
John clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes.
“Come with me, John,” I lilted.
He sighed, looking back up the hill and then to me.
“Are you scared of the woods?”
John scoffed, “No, I’m not scared.”
“I’ll protect you,” I replied. “Don’t you worry.”
John didn’t respond. I pulled again on his hand, a few more steps into the forest, the world growing verdant and shady. Something was keeping him, but I wasn’t going to let him abandon me here. “Fine. I’m coming. I’m a weak man,” he finally conceded.
I turned, not dropping his hand. “Come on. I have things I want to show you.”
We weaved through the forest, quiet at first. Eventually, John relaxed and followed without me having to guide him by the hand. When we came to the stream, I requested he take off his shoes.
John was wary at first and waited for me to remove mine. It was funny that a man in a profession such as his seemed afraid to take hold of his freedoms in a place such as this. And both of us being from the city, I understood his hesitation. If I hadn’t had my time at the farm with Auntie Gin and Graham, I probably wouldn’t feel as confident to claim my place here.
But for dust we are. And to dust we will return.
“Fuck, it’s cold,” John grumbled, poking his toes into the water.
I slid one of my feet against slimy, mossy rock. “You’ll get used to it.”
If I really was a witch, my spell had worked on him. He followed without hesitation. “I have to admit, this is not what I had in mind when I thought about spending the day together…”
I giggled as I carefully stepped further into the trickling stream. The cold water sent pangs through my ankles until I got acclimated to the frigid temperature. John followed behind me, his pant legs cuffed so as not to get wet. “What did you have in mind then?” I asked.
The forest sounds of rustling foliage and the tweeting of birds were only interrupted by the sloshing of our feet in the water.
“I expected to be more naked, I suppose.”
I laughed and gave him a smile over my shoulder. “Our feet are bare. Does that count for anything?”
“If I were that kind of man, perhaps.”
“John.”
“Oh, don’t be mean, Julia. People like what they like.”
“Right, like you like walking behind me right now, hm?” I flirted, glancing over my shoulder at him.
John reflexively looked down at my behind and then back at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t be shy. People like what they like.”
“Oh, hush.”
I laughed and walked a few more steps before stopping suddenly. John ran into my back and grabbed onto my waist with a gasp. “Julia!”
“Sorry, I thought I saw a tadpole! Didn’t want to step on it,” I said innocently, grinding my hips into him.
John tightened his grip on me. “Aren’t you just an absolute angel?” he asked through gritted teeth.
Before I could reply, he smacked his hand against my ass. I let out a ream of laughter and squirmed away. “Yes, I am. I care for all of God’s creatures. In all sorts of ways.”
“I’m familiar with your care, Julia.”
We returned to our pattern of walking through the stream, me leading, John following, pausing our conversation to take in the sounds of nature around us.
“How much longer?” he asked after a bit.
“Not too much.”
“I’m starting to think you really are lur – her – hah!” John cut himself off with an exclamation, accidentally slipping on a particularly mossy.
“Careful,” I warned.
“I was being careful!”
I gave him a look I would give one of the girls when they were being dishonest.
“I was! Swear!”
I started forward again, but not another step forward and I heard the same water sloshing, the same ridiculous exclaiming, and, this time, a loud splash. I turned to find John laid out in the water on his bottom, having caught himself to keep himself mostly upright. “I told you to be careful!” I cried out.
“The rocks are slippery!”
“Not if you’re careful.”
John growled to himself, looking like a drenched chick in a nest. He extended a dripping hand toward me. “Help me up.”
“Oh, no. I know exactly what you’ll do with that.” I turned back around and continued walking. “You’ll take my hand and then pull me down and then we’ll both we wet and –”
The rocks were indeed slippery, as evidenced by my feet sliding out from under me, throwing me straight onto my bottom and into the water. I was stunned into silence, gasping as cold water twinged against my skin and my dress soaked.
John stared to laugh. “Not if you’re careful, eh?”
I splashed him with water. “Shut up!”
John flinched, grinning ear to ear, and then splashed me back. Flecks of water hit my face. I scrambled toward him in the stream and sprung myself on top of him, enveloping him in a kiss. He caught me, nearly falling back all the way into the water. Despite being chilled to the bone, the kiss warmed us both right up.
“Well,” John murmured against my lips. “Now that we’re soaked, should we head back?”
I shook my head. “No, no. We’re almost there. Follow me.”
We helped one another carefully out of the water, rivulets of water flowing down from our clothes, creating sounds of trickling as we continued down the stream.
Only five more minutes of walking. Then, came the welcoming sight of the craggy rocks where the water spilled out from. I found the footholds up the bank that had been there since before I had discovered the place and John followed. At the top of the embankment, we could see it. My little pond.
Since I had discovered it back in May, I had been several times to lay out in the sun, to swim, to contemplate. It was somewhere I could escape to. And while I wanted to save it for me, I want more to share it with John.
“Are we here?” John asked, looking out at the water.
“Yes, we’re here,” I replied. “I come out here a lot when I can. To think.”
“Hm.”
“And to swim.”
John chuckled, “To swim. You’re something of a free spirit, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I admit, I haven’t spent much time in the forest. It always seems very frivolous, I suppose,” John said in thoughtful quiet. “Then again, I was here so rarely that I had to be with the girls.” He pursed his lips tight. He wanted to say more and was holding it back.
I had noticed this more often now. Moments that he would go somewhere else. When Mo, I assumed, would cross his mind. He would leave his present form, burrow into a memory, and time would stop. It was best to leave him to it. But not for too long, else he’d get lost for too long.
I walked over to a small tree, one that had become a friend of mine, with its branches extending like hands. I started to undo the zipper on the back of my dress. “You want to go for a swim?” I asked, pulling the bodice of my dress down my arms.
“Julia!”
I turned back to John, my dress hanging down over my hips, only wearing a bra on my upper half. His eyes darted to my tits. “What are you doing?” he whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” I giggled and then pushed the dress over my hips to expose my lower half.
“You can’t go swimming like that. Not in the middle of the woods.”
I shook my head, hanging the dress up in the branches of the tree to dry. “Oh, John. Don’t pretend like you’re all innocence, hm?”
“What if someone walks through and sees you in your…you know?”
“Well, they won’t,” I replied, undoing the clasp on my brassiere.
John’s eyes opened so wide I thought they might plop out of his head.
I couldn’t look at him as I took off my bra. Even though we’d be naked with one another, it was never in the pure light of day. I tried to hold back a blush, more exposed than ever. I thought about all my little imperfections that would be clear in the light: cellulite, body hair, and errant zit on my thigh. All of those things made me feel less like a woman and more like an ogre just because I had striven my whole life to be an unattainable perfect body.
Through the fear of being imperfect, I wanted him to see me.
I hung the bra on another branch on the tree, my nipples shriveling in the air, erect and prominent. “Besides, our clothes have to dry, don’t they?”
“I…I…” he burbled like a baby. “I suppose.”
I took off my underwear without much fanfare and hung them on the tree too. And then, shaking my hair off my shoulders, I walked past John to the rock I always jumped off of into the water. I felt his eyes the whole way over. It was nice to know that despite whatever violent delights he’d experienced in his strange, hedonistic life that he could still be surprised.
I dove into the water and left him on the bank. When I came back up for air, I looked up at John. His shock had morphed into a disbelieving smile.
“Come in the water,” I say, letting my feet float up to the surface.
John touched the bottom button of his shirt and nervously twiddled it in his finger. “Turn around.”
“What?!” I scoffed.
“Just…turn around, Julia.”
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen, John.”
“I know but…” he bashfully replied, looking away.
I couldn’t blame him; I had felt the same way.
“Just please,” John said with a pleading look.
I did. “You better be getting totally naked. No knickers.”
“Promise.”
I waited for a bit, trying to determine what sound I was hearing. The belt clacking, the trousers dropping, the leaves on the branches shuffling.
“Alright, I’m coming in.”
I started to turn.
“Don’t look!”
“John!”
“You promised!”
“You saw me. Can’t I see you?”
John let out a garbled sigh. “Just don’t act like you’re looking, alright?’
I sucked in my lower lips and smiled. “Alright.”
“And don’t say anything.”
I didn’t reply, turning my head slightly. In my periphery, I could see the peachiness of his new form, undetailed and bare. I turned a little more, finding him standing on the rock in glorious nakedness. There he was. Everything I knew so well and yet, in this light, so much better.
The things that in ourselves we define as imperfections were the things I gravitated toward. The slight paunch of his belly on his incredibly slim form, the disproportion of his long arms to his height, his flaccid penis looking shy and unsure, but full of a potential I’d grown to crave.
John was beautiful.
“You’re staring,” he muttered, wrapping his arms across his chest to hide his nipples.
I looked away. “Sorry, sorry.”
I didn’t watch as John leapt into the water, just felt the spray hit my face. The water stilled where he entered for the briefest moment. Then, he burst through the surface, gasping for air. “Bloody fucking hell!”
I started to laugh. “It’s not that bad.”
John pushed the sopping strands of his hair out of his face. “God, you really are a witch. Having me jump in frigid cold water completely…” He trailed off when his eyes met mine.
I sucked my lower lip under my teeth. The water almost came up to my chin with my feet touching the bed of the pond while John’s collar bone was visible almost entirely.
“What?” he asked softly.
I shook my head and then sunk under the water, pushing off with my feet and propelling backward, away from him. The water usual dampened the sounds of the rest of the world, but now I could hear John’s own movements in the water with me, coming closer and closer, until his hand wrapped around my ankle. In the soft slowness of the water, I let him drag me back toward him, my body curving, slipping down the length of his body until my feet were again touching the pond bottom.
We emerged from the water at the same time, a joint breath, the water now just beneath my breasts and John only an inch away, his hand having traveled up from my ankle to my hip.
I placed my hands on his chest tenderly. I wanted to explore every part of him, study him, make a topographical map of his body. I wanted to keep him. I traced my fingers along his clavicle to his shoulder, feeling the sharpness of his bones.
John leaned forward. I thought to kiss me. But instead, he nudged his nose against my cheek and pulled me into his arms.
We held each other for a while there in the water, arms encircling one another. Endless.
“Why are you scared?” I asked against his ear lobe. “For me to see you?”
I felt John’s simmering laugh in his chest. “Because no one’s looked at me in a long time,” he answered. He nuzzled his nose against my cheek. “And because you’re so utterly…not scared.”
I hooked my hand on his shoulder, leaning my head against his, shutting my eyes tight. “You’ve got it all wrong, John. I’m terrified.”
John hummed like he learned something he hadn’t expected.
“And you’re beautiful,” I added, my voice infused the way the leaves moved in the trees, so particularly quiet and ever-present.
“Oh, I’m not much.”
The last time I said that to a man was to Jimmy in the gardens of Plumpton. A shock of his memory panged in my brain. I pressed my face to his cheek, needful to forget the intrusive thought of Jimmy Page. “You’re really beautiful,” I repeated.
John didn’t shrink away. In fact, he gravitated further into me, turning his face to meet mine, his lips hungering against mine in a kiss. Our hips locked together, the water around us sloshing softly.
Water is a quiet thing until it is overwhelmed. It is pure until it is violent. And while John and I had communed and communed and communed together so many times, this was different. This was…
Holy.
“Let me see you,” I said breathlessly.
“You are.”
“No, let me –” I started to reach for the spot between his legs.
“Don’t,” John exclaimed, knocking my hand away. “It’s too cold, I’ve…retreated from the chill.”
“That’s such a polite way of putting it,” I giggled. 
He swallowed as he looked down at my breasts. “Well, I’m a very polite person.”
I traced my fingers down his arms to his hands and led him once again. He was under the spell completely now that he’d followed me into the water in the middle of the forest, naked. I had him around my finger. Just as I wanted.
To the shale rock on the shore that inclined out of the water, under a broken shaft of light where I often sat and sunned myself like a lizard after my swims. I spun him around and cornered him up against it. John braced himself. “Julia.”
“Up,” I demanded.
John swallowed, but followed my instruction. He sat on the rock, slowly backing out of the water.
My eyes immediately went between his legs where his cock that had indeed shrunk in the water, was now starting to come back to life in the sun. I crawled up onto the rock between John’s legs, regarding it with adoration before looking back to John. He was on high alert, sitting straight up as a pole.
“Lean back, John.”
He leant back on his elbows warily.
I ran my hands up the length of his legs, from his ankles to the tops of his thighs and back. I pressed a kiss to the inside of his ankle.
“Julia, listen…”
“Hm?” I continued a deathly slow trail of kisses up his calf.
“I know what you’re doing.”
“Mhm.” I kissed the inside of his opposite knee and drew my hands up to his thighs again.
John’s leg jerked and he let out a puffy sigh. “You know I won’t last, you know I won’t.”
I raised my gaze to him. “I don’t care.”
John’s breath halted in his chest as he stared at me.
“I want you in my mouth,” I murmured. “Would you let me?”
He blinked, mouth falling ajar. Then, he nodded.
I smiled, my eyes not leaving his as I returned to my trail of kisses. I didn’t want to miss an inch of the pale inside of his thigh. His skin was broken out in tight goosebumps, sheeny with pond water. Closer and closer until I got to the crux of his thigh and groin. I planted a long kiss to his hip bone before eyeing his member. His cock had recovered stupendously, hardening still by the second, foreskin tensing nearly all the way back from the head. I burrowed my nose into his shroud of damp pubic hair, teasingly close. 
“For Christ’s sake…” He was getting antsy. I loved making him squirm.
I kissed the base of his cock softly. It was hot, especially compared to the water we’d just emerged from. I trailed kisses up his cock, all the way to the head, following it as it curved to right onto his stomach. “You want to be in my mouth?”
“Uh-huh…”
“Want to feel the back of my throat?”
“Fuck. Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
I smiled, the head of his cock pressed to my lips. Our eyes met across the plane of John’s shimmering torso. I tucked my tongue under the ridge of the head, causing him to wince. “Sensitive…” I whispered and then popped the head between my lips like a lolly.
John’s thighs tensed around me. I placed a hand against his belly to steady myself as I slid him further into my mouth. Up and down, I bobbed. Painfully slow.
Every small noise John made was music to my ears, from the movement of saliva in his mouth to the way his breath was starting to wane to a whimper. I caressed the base of his shaft as I took him deeper and deeper.
Abruptly, John’s hips stuttered, shoving his cock up against the back of my unprepared throat. I drew back and gagged.
“God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“S’okay…” I replied, licking my lower lip, steadying my breath. “You can fuck my face if you want.”
John looked at me dumbfounded. “What?”
I blinked. I couldn’t imagine he hadn’t heard anything like that before or done anything like that before. “Why do you keep acting surprised by the things I’m saying?”
“Because I am!” he replied on a laugh. “Because…” His ruby lips twisted to the side as did his gaze.
“Say it.”
John’s cerulean eyes jumped into mine again with stolidness. “Because when I met you, you seemed like such a good girl.”
I smiled astonishedly. I hadn’t realized how much I’d subverted his expectations. And while usually I was annoyed that people assumed my purity, this time, I loved it.
“But you’re really…”
Bad. Naughty. Dirty. I didn’t care. I put him back in my mouth and returned to my rhythm before he could finish his sentence. John’s whole body tightened. Now, primed to take him entirely, I worked him into my mouth faster and faster, until the head of his cock pressed up against the back of my throat again.
John collapsed, groaning. “Fucking hell…” One of his hands found the back of my head; he knitted his fingers through my hair, encouraging and unforceful.
I took him deep and fast as I could. I was sloppy, but I knew it would serve my purpose. To taste him. With one hand, I massaged his scrotum; the other found his empty hand. John took it tightly, squeezing our palms together so that my fingers splayed wide. He needed me. Needed to hold onto me. First he’d been afraid to get naked and jump in the water and now he was at the mercy of my mouth in the middle of the woods.
John’s eyes were shut tight, mouth lolling open between gasps, curses, and –
“Julia…”
I had learned how he said my name warningly. But I didn’t need the warning. I could feel the skin tautening around his balls, ready to burst the moment I hit him just right.
“I’m g-getting close.”
I hummed to get his attention. John opened his eyes again and watched me wrench my hand around the base of his cock.
An anticipatory breath. Hand gripping my hair.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Can I cum?”
“Mhm…” I hooked my thumb under his scrotum and pressed it against his perineum. And just like that…
Boom.
John cried out nonsensically, mewling like an injured animal. He writhed and twisted as the orgasm consumed him. His seed painted my mouth in spurts as his cock spasmed, tangy and hot. I slid him out of my mouth and swallowed before the texture became repulsive. Then, I rested my head in the cradle of his hip bone, watching his stomach rise and fall to catch his breath.
His fingers wove through my hair back and forth. A growl of satisfaction rolled up from the pit of his belly.
“So good,” I murmured against his skin.
John finally stabilized and lifted his head to look at me. As soon as our eyes met, he smiled. “Fuck.”
I giggled and kissed his navel.
He ran his hands over his face, pushing back tendrils of wet hair. “Fuuuuck.”
“Good or bad?”
John laughed. “What do you think?”
I could have spent a lifetime between his legs, hands on his thighs, gazing up at him. “So if I’m not a good girl, what am I?”
John lopsidedly grinned and tugged on my arm until I was tangled up against his chest. Like we were laying in bed together in the morning. “A very good girl.”
I bit my lower lip and nudged my nose against his, inviting a kiss which he bade me.
John sighed heavily. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing.”
“But all I’ve done is –”
“Pleasing you pleases me,” I whispered.
John did not contest this; he pulled my leg across his waist and we laid there in our afterglow.
While pleasing a man with your mouth can be a thankless job, it doesn’t feel that way for the right person. When the pheromones are correct and the way their moans hit your ear send chills down your spine, that’s a whole different kind of getting off.
That’s power.
John and I could have laid there on the shale rock for eons and become a part of the scenery. Birds, leaves, lovers. What is more natural than that?
Our silence was interrupted by a grumble in my belly.
“Should we go back?” John teased, touching my waist.
“Mm-mm. Here.”
I got to my feet and climbed to the tip of the rock, naked and unafraid. It abutted a mulberry tree, pregnant with fruit. I picked some ripe berries and brought them back to John who eyed me suspiciously.
“What’s that look?” I asked, popping a berry into my mouth.
“You know it’s historically a bad idea to take fruit from a beautiful woman,” John said.
“Well, it’s also a historically bad idea to take it from a beautiful man as well. So,” I shrugged, licking my thumb clean of berry juice.
John smiled and took one from me. “I guess we’re both going to hell anyway.”
“I’m glad you’ve finally caught on,” I replied and put a so-purple-it’s-black between my lips for him to retrieve.
With a smile, John put his lips to mine, tongue curling around the berry. Ginger and intimate.
We gobbled down the berries, tart and sweet, the seeds getting stuck between our teeth and juice staining our fingers. And then, with full bellies, we reclined again on the rock, retreating into the warmth of the sunlight. Idle conversation, little kisses, long glances full of something unspoken to. 
Ashdown was our Garden of Eden or our Underworld, depending on who you believe tempted who.
But fullness and warmth commune together to create an inconvenient sort of thing: sleep. And despite everything, John and I drifted off together in the blanket of nature.
I guess I’d be remiss not to admit that I was falling for John, although I would not let myself think the word “love”. How else would I have been able to fall asleep in the duff in the middle of the woods if not having him by my side? There was no pretense to what was between us. We already knew the shade of each other. Now all we had to do was bask in the light.
John jerked awake first with a sharp inhale. “Aw, fuck. I fell asleep.”
“Me too.”
He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”
I squinted up at the sky. The light had shifted significantly, sun directly up in the sky. My body was completely dry and my hair like straw.  “Early afternoon.”
“Shit. Shit.”
“The girls, what time will they be –‘”
“I don’t know, I didn’t think to ask because I didn’t think we’d be leaving the house. I thought we’d be –” John stopped and then looked back at our clothes, his forehead and lips tightening. “Shit.”
I grabbed his bicep. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay. We’ll just go back. And if they’re back early, I doubt their grandmother would say no to more time with them.”
John shrugged me off and bolted off toward our clothes, scrambling around the shoreline over the moss-covered rocks. “Yes, and what will she say when you and I trip inside looking all raggedy and strange when you said you’d be running errands and I said I’d be working. She’s not an idiot,” he said whilst ripping pieces of his clothing off the tree.
I watched him, wrapping my arms around my legs, feeling myself caving in. “We just went for a walk.”
John scoffed. “Not to mention the girls will have questions. And what is it that you say? They always know more than they let on or whatever.”
I didn’t recognize John through his mania. He had been so calm and confident, even teasing me in front of Maureen’s mother. Why was he trembling now? Why was he afraid of being seen with me?
He looked back to me anxiously. “Put your clothes on, yeah?”
I nodded and hurriedly followed his instruction. No romance, no playful flirtation. Didactic and direct.
Like we once were. All those months ago. I hadn’t felt like the girl, the ghost, in a while. But it all came flooding back to me now as John’s cold demeanor returned.
I followed him back through the forest, neither of us speaking. The long walk made even longer by the pounding of my heart and the deep wound of abandoning our haven. I had forgotten something important; Eve abandoned the Garden. Persephone didn’t want the Underworld in the first place.
They were temporary.
And John and I…
Temporary.
I shook off the thought.
Finally, we made it to the heath. I could still hear the laughter from hours before, except now we were silent and beads of sweat were rolling down my back from the hot sun hanging in the sky. I longed for John to look back at me just once to let me know that I was okay. That we were okay.
John went in through the sitting room doors ahead of me; I snuck in quietly behind him. He stood in the middle of the room, waiting.
The house was stupendously quiet.
“They’re not here yet,” John said softly.
“No.” I sucked on my lower lip.
John turned around to look at me. That coldness and worry had dissipated. He was smiling.  
All the worry in my heart disappeared. That’s how you know you’re doomed. When at one moment, you can feel like sorrow over the one you adore will kill you one moment and then, the next, they can make you feel like you’re on top of the world again. It’s like getting high. It’s like cocaine.
I suddenly felt so young.
“God, I was panicked,” John laughed.
I laughed too, shallowly. “Sorry, we should have just stayed at the house. I don’t know what I was thinking or –”
“No, no, no,” John cut me off and came over to me. He encircled his arms around my waist. “Your cheeks are red.”
“So are yours,” I replied. I couldn’t look him in the eye.
John touched my cheek. It was tender, sun-singed. “Have I upset you?”
I shook my head. “No, no. You just scared me. I don’t want to be a problem.”
“You’re not.”
“What I mean is, I don’t want to get in the way of –”
“You’re not, I promise.” John kissed my temple. “I’ve been so – uhm – caught up these past two weeks. Sometimes I get so lost that I feel like I’m a child.” His breath hitched in my ear. “Then I remember. Everything that’s happened to me. And to you. And…”
I played with one of the buttons on his shirt as he spoke. The thread was coming loose. I thought I’d love to fix it for him.
He swallowed. “I like how you make me feel, darling.”
I smiled.
John pulled at my skirt, bunching it in his hand until his fingers grazed my bare leg. “And perhaps against my better judgment, I’ll follow you into the forest anytime you like.” He kissed my neck. “Would you like that?”
I giggled as he peppered me with kisses. “Yes.”
“And since we have time, maybe we –”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!”
I gasped and pushed John away. Annie stood in the doorway, clutching her heart as if she might have an arrythmia. “Annie!”
“Are you two mad? What the devil is wrong with you?”
“It’s not –” I began.
“Don’t,” she cut me off, fire in her stare.
John tucked himself behind one of the wingback chairs as if distance somehow erased what Annie had just seen. “What are you doing here? So soon? We weren’t expecting you until this evening!”
Annie glared. “Clearly.” Her eyes reminded me of storm clouds. “I thought I’d get the house in order before I started on dinner. Was worried you’d burnt the place down, but clearly you had other things on your mind.”
I gulped. “We can explain.”
“Both of you sit. Now.”
John and I exchanged a nervous look. We might have been grown adults, but a mother’s wrath still shook us to our cores. John sat in a chair while I found an uncomfortable spot on the sofa a few leagues off.
Annie walked to the middle of the room, taking the floor as if it were a courtroom. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”
“Annie,” John tutted as if he was speaking to one o the girls. “Really, this is –”
“Hush, young man.”
John zipped his lips together. I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing.
“Something funny, Julia?”
I shook my head, hand still plastered to my mouth.
“Good. I’m not trying to be funny. There are responsibilities in this house. You both have responsibilities to the children. And getting tangled about like that is nothing but distraction.” Annie looked at me. “How long has this been going on?”
John tried to calculate. “Just a couple weeks.”
“No wonder you were so eager to shuffle me out the door. You wanted to gallivant about without a witness, mm?” Annie paced back and forth, shifting her ire between us. “Well, don’t think I haven’t noticed the road you two’ve been on. With all the stolen glances and little giggles. Not to mention the night you two slept in the same bed, trying to pass that off as –”
“We really did just sleep, I promise,” I interrupted.
Her attention shifted to me like she was a bird of prey. “Don’t interrupt me.”
I swallowed my tongue.
“I just expected you both to be better than this. Especially you, Julia. I expected more from you, Julia.”
“Me? What about him?” I cried out incredulously.
She rolled her eyes. “You know better. You know how men are.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad I lived up to expectations,” John mumbled.
Annie crossed her arms. “Where are the girls?”
“Out. With their grandmother,” he answered.
“You haven’t been mucking about in front of them, have you?”
“Of course not!” John replied.
Annie sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. There’s still time for you to undo all of this then.”
The word undo implies that there’s a way to return to the way things once were. That was not this. Even if we wanted to or tried to, I was not sure we could ever undo what had been done.
“Why are you so upset with us, Annie?” I asked. “We’re not hurting anyone.”
“Definitely not hurting,” John said under his breath.
I bit back a laugh. “John, please. 
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
We exchanged childish smiles, two troublemakers in the headmistress’ office.
“Really, be serious, won’t you?” Annie said, the tone of her voice having shifted from that of attack to resignation. “No. You’re not hurting anyone. Not yet.”
Not yet.
Annie straightened out the boddice of her dress and adjusted a bobby pin in her tight bun. “I don’t want to pick up the pieces of anyone. Understand? I’ve done far than I’d like to of that. I can’t have any more hurt in this house. No more.”
I suddenly understood Annie’s gut response; she’d been traumatized by the love she’d witnessed in this house. The profound loss of a matriarch, the suffering of her children and widowered husband. She could only see the potential for loss between John and me.
“Annie, I think you’ll find we’re both rather happy with the situation as it stands,” John said carefully. “Right, Julia?”
I smiled. “Yes. Happy is a good word for it.”
Annie shook her head. “You’ll have to be good. I won’t tolerate for any foolishness around me or the girls.”
“Of course. Wouldn’t dream of it,” John replied.
She started to back away to the door. “I’m going to the kitchen now to tidy up and get started on dinner. Don’t you even dare think about going back to shaking sheets or –”
“We won’t. Promise, Annie,” I said, leaning forward, hoping for any sort of sign from her she wasn’t upset with me. She really had become my mum.
Annie’s eyes hardened on me. I couldn’t tell if she was angry at me for being loose or hurt for not telling her. Or perhaps playing out my future like an auger who knew more than she’d like. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she muttered on her way out the door.
John and I sat for a moment in silence before he got up. “I’m going to go try and smooth things over with her.”
“Alright.” I’d felt sad I hadn’t even been able to ask her about Bethany and the baby. The little boy.
John came to me and kissed the crown of my head. “It’ll be fine.”
Once he’d left, I realized how utterly exhausted I was. The long walk and the sunshine, the whiplash of emotion in just the past half hour.
I’d gotten my wish. For us to be witnessed.
And contrary to how I had imagined it, it felt absolutely terrible.           
tag list: @jimmys-zeppelin, @kari-12-10, @grxtsch, @edal-weis, @ritacaroline, @kyunisixx, @salixfragilis, @rebel-without-a-zeppelin, @jimmypages, @dollyvandal, @cassiana-on-dark-side, @thepinklovewitch, @babyl222, @faisonsunreve, @sastrugie, @seventieswhore, @raptorcat1960, @t4ngerinedr3am, @mayspringcome, @barrettavenue, @foreverandadaydarling, @glimmerofsanity, @matty-heally, @lzep, @jimmysdragonsuit13, @n0quart3r, @larsgoingtomars (let me know if you’d like to be added 💋)
59 notes · View notes
mixamorphosis · 2 months
Text
Blog post and linked up tracklist [HERE]
Tracklist
01. Ron Rinaldi - Mexican Summer (Spacetalk) 02. Jam Band '80 - Jammin' (With The Jam Band) (Rush Hour Music) 03. Sunset Gun - Be Thankful For What You Got (Thanks But No Thanks Edit) (Balearic Blah Blah) 04. Carrie Cleveland - Love Will Set You Free (Kalita) 05. Nana Love - Love Feeling (Dance Mix) (BBE) 06. Rob - Make It Fast, Make It Slow (Soundway) 07. Baby Huey - California Dreamin' (Curtom) 08. Experience Unlimited - Functus (Black Fire) 09. Marvin Gaye - Right On (Tamla) 10. Jeff Floyd - Don't Leave Me (City Of Dreams) 11. Jaye P. Morgan - Let's Get Together (How Do You Are?) 12. Reuben Wilson & The Cost Of Living - Together (Cadet) 13. Frederic Castel - Open Up (Leng) 14. Billy Paul - It's Critical (12" Version) (Philadelphia International Records) 15. Oby Onyioha - Enjoy Your Life (Soundway Records) 16. John Ozila - Funky Boogie (Spaziale) 17. Bokoor Band - Onukpa Shawarpo (Strut) 18. Roy Ayers - Africa, Centre Of The World (pitched up) (Polydor) 19. BB Seaton - Dancing In The Moonlight (Studio One)
Download available via [Hearthis]
6 notes · View notes
Text
Note: Before anyone mentions it, I know Dwayne Johnson is attached to the project. I just think he’s better suited to play Hakim the Book of Love than Cody, mainly because I can’t see him playing “boring, insecure suburban dad”.
0 notes
shefanispeculator · 2 months
Text
Today, Hendricks can look back at a spectacular career, having produced 116 Top 10 singles, 75 of which peaked at No. 1. All toll his number one records have spent 117 weeks (over 2 years) at the top of the chart. He has earned six awards from the Academy of Country Music, two from the Country Music Association as well as an Emmy Award for his production for the theme song of Monday Night Football with Hank Williams Jr. His production credits include the best of the best: Restless Heart, Alan Jackson, Brooks & Dunn, Faith Hill, John Michael Montgomery, Trace Adkins, Dan + Shay, Jana Kramer, Michael Ray, William Michael Morgan and Blake Shelton among many others. He achieved perhaps the ultimate distinction in this age of reality TV when he joined Shelton four times as a mentor on NBC’s The Voice.
By the time he began his studies at OSU, Hendricks was ready and eager to pursue a career in music. He miraculously found a job working in the Audio Visual Center on campus where he met Tim DuBois. They recorded many of their songwriting demos there, starting on a 2-track recorder and then graduating to a 4-track. Hendricks also started playing guitar in a Top 40 band called Marin. Eventually, once hearing a better guitar player, Greg Jennings, he volunteered to become the front of house mixer. When he found that the school’s undergraduate programs didn’t quite fit with his ambitions, he took the initiative to create and gain approval for a unique degree in architectural acoustics. The school mapped out a curriculum that included classes in engineering, music, radio/film/television and the graduate program in architecture. The end goal was to find a way to get into a professional recording studio one day.
With his Marin bandmate, Greg Jennings (who later became the guitar player in Restless Heart), Hendricks relocated to Nashville just one day after they had earned their degrees, not bothering to wait for the cap-and-gown ceremony. Through his numerous trips to Nashville with Tim DuBois pitching their songs to publishers, Hendricks had a job lined up following graduation working at a company as a recording studio acoustician and salesman of recording equipment. Hendricks then befriended engineer and fellow Oklahoman Ron Treat at the Glaser Brothers’ Studio, where he spent every night after his day job assisting Treat and watching legendary producer Jimmy Bowen work. There, he witnessed some of country music’s greatest recordings.
In 1984, Hendricks and Tim DuBois took a chance on recording an unnamed band to secure a record deal. That band became Restless Heart and was signed to RCA Records. Many hits followed including the iconic song “I’ll Still Be Loving You”. This launched the 30+ year career of producing.
5 notes · View notes
jjasportstudio · 10 months
Link
0 notes