#aka what happens when you let me cook past midnight
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klonoadreams · 1 year ago
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Mama Rouge and Mako's mom get to vibe in the afterlife after giving their children the best futures they could and whilst living would've been preferable, they did the best they could and that's definitely a good thing.
😔
It's tough being a mom in the world of One Piece, where the World Government is corrupt as all hell jfc.
Can't have shit in this world lmaooo.
As far as I remember back, I just remember making Mako's mama from Amazon Lily and a Kuja Pirate. Papa is like just some rando who happens to be Fisher Tiger's brother.
And that's about it for Mako's lineage, because it's a god damn mystery from her mother's side, due to the fact that Amazon Lily inhabitants have to leave in order to reproduce. So good luck trying to find a lead.
Like the ambiguity of it, mainly cuz Mako really has been lucky. And the series of events that occurred after she was born. Honestly, she's like baby Kiyoko from Tokyo Godfathers in terms of luck and bringing people together. :V
Only time will tell if I go further into Mako's mama, but as an FYI, her name is Calystegia - after one of my favorite Persona Dancing All Night songs and also the flower theme of Amazon Lily, as it's a name for morning glory (one of many genera) :V
Mako got her hair and eye color from her mama, which is how she got her name.
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This is a calystegia macrostegia, aka, island morning glory. Kinda fitting, no?
of course, there is another that also fits
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Dolce Vita Morning Glory. This one is Ipomoea purpurea, which is the common morning glory and comes in many colors, the dolce vita one refers to this one specifically.
And if you know the meaning of dolce vita, then you can also see some irony with Mako and her Mama. :V (Grandma was named Ipomoea and in my head, I just see this lineage of women named after flowering plants in the asterids clade (of which includes the common daisy, forget-me-nots, nightshades, the common sunflower, petunias, lavender, lilac, jasmine, honeysuckle, and snapdragons).
That's about as deep as it currently goes, but it could get deeper, or it could not. Either way, Mako may not be living la dolce vita, but that won't stop her from enjoying her life to the fullest.
I'll just leave this here boop
(Ipomoea Nil)
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pumpkinspicelyn · 3 years ago
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Of Hearts and Heroes Chapter 1: The Moon Returns
CW: Mentions of death, strong language.
A/N: Please don’t hate on my style of writing. It’s what I feel comfortable with.
Memories of the past can often plague you when you least expect them to. They can be a haunting reminder or potentially foreshadow the future.
***FLASHBACK***
Oboro: Hey, Lulu!
Oboro Shirakumo ran up and wrapped an arm around the shoulders of a young Luna Midoriya.
Luna: Oboro! It’s so early! How can you be this hyper?
Hizashi Yamada and Shota Aizawa walked up.
Aizawa: Neither Shirakumo nor Yamada understand the concept of calm and collected.
Luna: *giggle* Hence why I went and got you coffee from your favorite shop, Sho-chan.
She handed him the coffee and handed Oboro and Hizashi their pastries that she bought as well.
Hizashi: You’re too good to us, Lulu. Hey, how’s your mom by the way?
Luna: She’s doing okay. Little Izuku is starting to talk now. My heart just melts when he calls me “Wuwu.”
Oboro: How old is he now?
Luna: Three.
Aizawa: Shirakumo. Midoriya. We’re going to be late for our work studies.
They said goodbye to Hizashi and went to go meet up with Nemuri Kayama, aka Midnight, to go to their work study with His Purple Highness. Little did they know that that would be the last time Oboro Shirakumo would be seen alive.
***PRESENT DAY***
Luna woke in a jolt after her memory dream ended with the day Oboro died.
Flight Attendant: Miss Phoenix? We’ll be landing shortly.
Luna: Thank you.
It’s been thirteen years since Oboro’s death. Luna had struggled with it, but she made sure to keep busy and left Japan to work in America about three years ago. She returns today due to accepting a job offer at the most prestigious hero school in all of Japan, U.A. Academy. Principal Nezu thought that her guidance and warm aura could be useful in assisting the students on their journey to become heroes. And her psychology degree, of course. The plane landed and began to let passengers off. Luna started on her way to baggage claim when she heard a familiar voice.
???: Luna!
Luna turned around and had to steady herself as her little brother, Izuku, nearly tackled her in a hug.
Luna: Izuku, you’ve gotten so big! Did Sapphire and Aurora come too?
Inko and Aurora Midoriya, Luna’s mom and cousin, walk up and hug Luna.
Aurora: Sapphire’s having boy troubles. She and Kacchan broke up.
Luna sighed. She knew that day would come sooner or later, because Katsuki Bakugo had a massive ego and god complex that overshadowed his ability to care for Sapphire.
Luna: Things will work out. Did the entrance exams already happen?
Izuku: Yep! Aurora, Sapphire and I all got accepted to UA!
Luna blinked as she looked down at her brother.
Luna: YOU got in, ‘Zuku?
Izuku: Yeah!
Inko: His quirk finally manifested.
Luna: So late?
Aurora: Yeah, it’s super cool!
Luna looked at her family and smiled softly as she ruffled Deku’s hair.
Luna: Well, I’m proud of you. I can’t wait to see what you do, Izuku.
Izuku smiled and blushed as they got to the baggage claim and Izuku picked up Luna’s luggage for her and they took it to the car.
Inko: We were thinking of having a big feast for your return. Sapphire’s already cooking at home.
Luna: That sounds great, Mom. I do need to run an errand though so after we unload my luggage, I’ll head out and be back in time for dinner.
Inko: Okay, sweetie.
The Midoriya family drove to their apartment complex and got Luna’s luggage up to her apartment next door to Inko’s. She had called the landlord to set her up with an apartment since her mom’s was getting a little cramped. Sapphire and Aurora shared her old room and her mom and brother each had their own rooms, so Luna knew she’d need to find her own space but she wanted to stay close to her mom, just in case she ever needed help with something since her father was overseas. When everything was settled, Luna borrowed her mom’s car to head to UA. She made her way to Nezu’s office when she arrived and smiled as she looked around.
Luna: Nothing has changed since I was a student. Good to know.
???: LULU!!!!!
Luna turned at the call of her name and she was immediately crushed in a hug by Nemuri, aka Midnight.
Luna: Nemuri, I can’t breathe!
Hizashi: Come on, Nem! Don’t hog her!
Luna smiled as Nemuri let her go and she hugged Hizashi.
Luna: Long time no see, ‘Zashi. God, your hair got long.
Hizashi: You should see it when it’s down. Nemuri likes to make Rapunzel jokes.
Luna giggled as the three of them started walking to Nezu’s office together.
Luna: I can’t imagine the amount of gel or hairspray it takes to get it like that.
Hizashi: A lot.
Nemuri: Does Shouta know you’re back?
Luna: No. He and I kind of lost touch after Oboro died, especially when he started working as an underground hero. Do you guys know what he’s up to these days?
Hizashi and Nemuri, who were well aware of Luna’s crush on Aizawa in high school, smirked at each other.
Hizashi: Oh, I’m sure you’ll meet up with him sooner or later.
Luna raised an eyebrow as she opened the door to Nezu’s office, only to bump into someone.
Luna: *rubbing her nose and rambling* Sorry! I really need to be more careful. Not even my first day and I’m already screwing up my first impressions.
???: Midoriya?
Luna froze at the deep voice that called her name. There’s only a few people who knew her at the school. Only one of them would call her by her last name. Luna looked up and stared directly into the black eyes of a now grown Shouta Aizawa. His hair had gotten longer since their school days and he looked more tired but also more rugged. Luna felt her face heat up and Nemuri and Hizashi smirked as they noticed her turning bright red.
Luna: Sh-Shouta. Wh-What are you doing here?
Aizawa: I’m a teacher. What are you doing here?
Nezu: Oh, is that Luna Midoriya? Let her in, Aizawa. She’s going to be an instructor as well as helping us with a new therapy program.
Aizawa looks back down at Luna with semi-widened eyes.
Aizawa: You’re working here?
Luna: Yep. The troublesome four are back together again.
Aizawa rolled his eyes and walked away, passing her without any further conversation. Luna watched him and sighed then looked at the floor.
Luna: I shouldn’t have expected anything different.
Hizashi: Give it time, Lulu. I’m sure he’s actually ecstatic that you’re back.
Luna: I hope you’re right, Hizashi.
Luna stepped inside Nezu’s office and got all of her paperwork sorted then returned home for a delightful dinner with her family. A few days later, Luna put her hair up in a similar style to Inko’s and dresses in her hero costume then heads to her mom’s apartment and Inko lets her in.
Luna: Kids, are we ready to go?
Sapphire, Aurora and Izuku walked out in their uniforms and Luna smiled as Inko started loudly crying, proud of her son and nieces.
Luna: *giggle* Mom, come on. Alright, kids. Grab your bags and let’s head out.
Sapphire: Is it too late to transfer?
Luna: You’re not going to give up on your dream school just because you want to avoid your ex-boyfriend.
Sapphire sighed as the four of them gave Inko hugs, put on their shoes and headed to Luna’s car. They loaded up and Luna drove them to UA.
Luna: I know this probably doesn’t need to be said, but I want you three to be careful. You’re training to be heroes, yes, but I don’t want you to get hurt or die before you even get to graduation.
Aurora: Don’t worry, Lulu. We’ll be fine.
Sapphire: ‘Zuku might not be. If his performance at the entrance exams means anything.
Luna: What do you mean?
Izuku: Nothing!
Sapphire: He can’t control his quirk and broke his whole arm.
Luna glared at Izuku in the passenger seat and he stared out the window to avoid eye contact with her.
Luna: Is this true?
Izuku refused to answer and was visibly sweating. Luna sighed as she pulled into the school parking lot and they all got out of the car.
Luna: Go get your class assignments. I have to stop by the teacher’s lounge.
The Midoriyas went their separate ways and Luna went to the teacher’s lounge to find All Might. Luckily, he was the only one in there and Luna closed the door behind her and locked it.
Luna: Toshinori Yagi, you are not leaving this room until you tell me why you thought giving my brother One for All was a good idea.
All Might looked up at her in surprise, so shocked he reverted to his “Small Might” form.
All Might: H-How did you know about that?
Luna: I did my work study with Nighteye and overheard you two talking about it a few times. I also worked with Dave a few times while I was in America. With him being quirkless and then all of a sudden having a quirk, there’s only one explanation as to why. Why him?
All Might sighed and stared out the window.
All Might: I saw myself in him. Someone who wants to save people with a smile. He ran into the face of danger when heroes just stood back and watched.
Luna: The slime villain. I heard about that. He saved Katsuki Bakugo, his childhood friend and his cousin’s boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend now.
Luna sighed and walked to the window to stare out at the grounds.
Luna: My baby brother has always wanted to be a hero. Ever since he saw that video of you.
All Might: He told me.
Luna: When he was diagnosed as quirkless, it destroyed him and his self confidence. Mom didn’t really make it better when he asked if he could still be a hero too and she just broke down and cried while apologizing. I was nineteen and didn’t know what to say either, but that might have been due to losing my friend two years earlier and he had a quirk. I didn’t want to think about what could possibly happen to Izuku. I helped raise him before I left for America. I can’t stop him from chasing his dream now, but I hope you know that I’m going to keep an eye on him and give him extra training to try and get his quirk under control.
All Might: As his older sister, I expected no less. Now, I believe Nezu said that you’d be co-teaching class 1-A with Aizawa.
Luna: Peachy.
Luna sighed as she put away her things then grabbed the paperwork that Nezu left for her and began reading over it.
Luna: **He’s expelled so many students. But then he reenrolls them? Does this have anything to do with Oboro, Shota?**
Luna shook her head as the bell rang and she put the paperwork down and went to the 1-A classroom. Aizawa was already in there, laying in his sleeping bag and sipping on applesauce packets.
Luna: You haven’t changed a bit, Aizawa.
Aizawa: You must be lost, Midoriya. This is my classroom.
Luna: Nope, I’m right where I need to be. This is my classroom too.
Aizawa: *glare* What?
Luna: Nezu wants me to teach class 1-A with you.
Aizawa: **What is that rat up to?** Fine. Alright, class, looks like you’re getting an additional teacher for homeroom. Meet Luna Midoriya, hero name: Phoenix.
Bakugo: Great. More nerds.
Luna: I have your mother on speed dial, Katsuki. Don’t test me.
With that, Bakugo shut up and Sapphire smirked.
Luna: Now, class, since I see my brother and cousins are also in this class, you are free to call me Miss Phoenix or Miss Luna. Now, from what I understand, we’re going to start with quirk evaluations so go change into your gym uniforms and meet Mr. Aizawa and I in the field.
The students left and Luna knelt next to Aizawa.
Luna: You’re going to have to get used to me working with you, Shota.
Aizawa: I’m not even used to working with Mic or Midnight.
Luna rolled her eyes and stood up.
Luna: Come on. We’ve got kids to teach.
Aizawa sighed and got out of the sleeping bag and they walked out of the room and out to the field.
Luna: Alright. We’ll put you through a series of tests to evaluate where you are with your quirks so that we can help you understand the strengths and weaknesses. The weaknesses are what we’ll begin focusing on as the semester begins.
Aizawa: However, if we feel as though you aren’t cut out for the curriculum, you’ll be expelled.
The students went silent and Luna sighed. Nezu informed her of Aizawa’s tactic when she was filling out her paperwork.
Luna: Let that be an incentive to show us the best of what you can do and save your position at the school.
The students shouted in the affirmative and the tests began. Luna and Aizawa watched them and took notes. Luna sighed and frowned as Izuku scored the lowest on all of them. Luna and Aizawa let the students rest and walked away from them.
Aizawa: How can your brother not control his quirk?
Luna: He’s a late bloomer. He just got it a while ago. I plan on giving him extra training so that he can try to catch up.
Aizawa: He’s going to need a lot of work. Both of you are going to overwork yourselves.
Luna: I know better than that, Aizawa. I’m more than capable of making sure we don’t overwork ourselves. We’ll be fine.
Luna walked back to the students and Aizawa sighed as he followed her.
Luna: Alright, so a lot of you really shined through, and others showed that you have some room for improvement.
Mineta: Especially the broccoli kid.
Some of the students snickered, Bakugo smirked, Sapphire and Aurora rolled their eyes, and Luna sighed.
Luna: Minoru Mineta, right? To be perfectly honest with you, on most of the tests, Izuku scored higher than you did, so I wouldn’t be one to tease. Izuku, we’re going to have you try the ball test one more time. Try to focus your quirk and do your best.
Luna handed Izuku the ball and he took a deep breath as he stood in the assigned throwing spot.
Aizawa: If you can’t even control your quirk and act recklessly, you don’t have what it takes to be a hero.
Luna turned on him with fire in her eyes, her quirk enabled wings activating, but before she could start her rant, Izuku threw the ball and it went flying, so far that it never came back down. When he turned to Luna and Aizawa, he had only one broken finger.
Izuku: Mr. Aizawa, with all due respect, I know I can’t control my quirk right now. I know I can be reckless, but I WILL be a hero. I want to save people with a smile on my face, just like All Might does, but most of all, I want to be a great hero like my sister before me.
Both Luna and Aizawa’s eyes widened at that.
Izuku: Even if you expel me today, I’ll find a way to become a hero. Ever since I was little, I’ve watched Luna grow as a hero and she’s amazing at it. I’ve never wanted anything more than to follow in her footsteps and be as great a hero as she is, so I won’t stop working until I achieve my goal.
Luna’s eyes watered and she hugged him as the girls in the class “aww’d” at Izuku’s speech.
Luna: As sweet as that is, I would really like it if you didn’t break every bone in your body when using your quirk.
Aizawa: And I won’t be expelling you today.
Luna and Izuku looked at him and he showed everyone his phone that was tracking the ball throws and it showed that Izuku had the highest throw out of the class, even more than Bakugo.
Aizawa: If you feel so strongly about becoming a hero, then you need to get a handle on that quirk. Phoenix and I will come up with a training regimen to help you get a better handle on it and you’ll need extra training time, also monitored by both of us.
Izuku smiled and his eyes watered as he bowed.
Izuku: Thank you, Mr. Aizawa. I promise I won’t let you down.
Aizawa and Luna dismissed the class and Luna took Izuku to see Recovery Girl. They got his finger healed and then met up with Sapphire and Aurora to head home.
Luna: Aizawa is right, Izuku. You really are going to need extra training. We’re going to find you some additional ways to fight as well as help you control your quirk.
Izuku: Okay, sis.
Aurora: Yeah, yeah, that’s all fine and dandy. Lulu, why were you sneaking glances at Mr. Aizawa when you were supposed to watching us?
Luna’s face turned bright red and Izuku choked on his water.
Luna: I-I wasn’t-
Sapphire: Luna wants sleepy old man dick.
Luna: Sapphire Midoriya!
Sapphire: I’m not wrong.
Luna: Sapphire!
Sapphire shrugged and Luna sighed.
Luna: Mr. Aizawa and I were classmates during my UA days. We met in second year. We were really good friends but we grew apart after we lost another dear friend during our work study. Then I moved to America and our gap grew wider. I had and do still have a crush on him, but I don’t think we’ll ever be able to get to a point where we can have a relationship outside of work. Now, I don’t want to hear anymore of this, okay?
The three teenagers nodded as Luna continued to drive home.
***AIZAWA POV***
Hizashi: *over phone* You know you’re going to lose any chance of being with her if you keep pushing her away.
Aizawa: Let’s pretend that I know what you’re talking about, Yamada.
Hizashi: Come on, Sho. Don’t even pretend like you don’t know what I mean. Nemuri and I both know that you have a crush bigger than Mt. Kilimanjaro on Luna.
Aizawa: I think you and Kayama need to have your prescriptions reevaluated. There is nothing between me and Midoriya.
Hizashi: Uh-huh. So all those couples’ dance competition trophies mean nothing to you.
Aizawa: School stuff and honing our skills so we could use what we learned in our training regimen.
Hizashi: Mother of pearl, Shota. Nemuri and I may be the ones who wear glasses, but I think you’re the one who’s blind. Remember what I said, Sho. You can’t push her away forever.
Yamada disconnected the call and I sighed as I sat down to start working on my lesson plans. After about twenty minutes, I realize that I’ve made no progress and take a break. I walk over to my trophy case and open it, then pull out a picture of Midoriya and I at our last competition before Oboro’s death. She was smiling brightly at the camera and I was looking at her with a soft smile and a slight blush.
Aizawa: She deserves better than someone who lets their friends die.
I put the picture back and put it down, so that it’s no longer on display, and go back to work.
TO BE CONTINUED……………..
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aliciameade · 5 years ago
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Have Your Cake
Title: Have Your Cake Author: aliciameade Rating: E for Extra Fun Pairing: Beca/Chloe...and Aubrey?! AKA the juggernaut that is: Triple Treble Summary: “I want you.” Beca grins and pulls her close, words spilling out without thinking. “I want you...and her.”
Fully inspired by/based on S1E4 of The L Word Generation Q and Alice, Nat, and Gigi.
Shout out to the peeps who waited 3 years for me to write this threesome in Finding Harmony only for me to never write it. (This isn’t part of FH, to be clear.)
Also on AO3
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
“Are we busy Saturday night?”
Beca watches from the other side of the dinner table as Chloe thinks about it and then consults her phone’s calendar.
“Nope,” Chloe says with a smile before setting down her phone in favor of her fork and the Thai-inspired stir fry they’d made together that evening. “What’s going on?”
“I got invited to this thing.” She knows she’s being too vague. She should have been more specific to prevent further questioning.
“Ooh, what kind of thing?” Chloe asks with a curious waggle of her eyebrows before she takes a sip from her wine glass.
“A party. A birthday party,” she amends.
Chloe perks up. (Not that she was un-perky before.) “Ooh, fun! Do you want to ask Aubrey if she wants to trade weekends?”
Beca glances at their daughter, oblivious to the conversation thanks to the joy of rice noodles. Sophie had commented more than once during their cooking adventure that the noodles looked like her own blonde waves and Beca knows they’re still not clear of the possibility that one of them will be washing fish sauce out of her hair tonight.
“Uh, yeah, about that,” she chuckles and nervously rubs at the back of her neck. “It’s, uh...it’s actually Aubrey’s birthday party? So we’d need to find a sitter.”
She sees the perkiness fade from Chloe’s face. “You’re going to Aubrey’s birthday party?”
“You know we’re trying our best to make this work,” Beca says quickly and quietly, hoping to mend the tear before it frays out of control. “It’s just a party. Amy rented out a whole club for the entire night. There’s going to be a ton of people there. It could be fun. You know we have to try—” she glances at Sophie who smiles up at her just then with an enormous ball of noodles wrapped around her fork and chooses her words carefully. “It’s for the best if we can all have a nice time together.”
“Mommy’s having a birthday party?” 
Beca winces; she could have chosen a better venue to bridge this topic with Chloe, such as any venue where the daughter she had with her ex-wife wasn’t in attendance. Her relationship with Aubrey had been sudden and a whirlwind, or more like a hurricane. She stormed into Beca’s life and somehow they married, had a child, and divorced within five short years.
And now she has Chloe with whom, Beca realized way, way late but apparently not too late, she was always meant to be. She was dumb to not realize it earlier. Then again if she had, she wouldn’t have married Aubrey, but then she wouldn’t have Sophie, and she can’t imagine life without her.
(The fact that Chloe and Aubrey had been best friends when they were all in college together had made for a lot of contentious conversations over the years.
Beca has always wondered if there was more to the contention than two best friends falling for the same person.)
“She is!” she answers. “But this one’s for her grown-up friends. You’re going to celebrate with her on her official birthday.”
“Okay,” Sophie says happily before refocusing on her noodles.
Beca’s own focus shifts back to Chloe. The tension that had appeared in her features when Beca had explained the event has faded.
“I was just surprised I wasn’t invited,” she says, seemingly explaining herself. “What time on Saturday? I’ll see if Abigail can stay with Soph.”
Beca relaxes and offers a gentle smile. “She said you should come, too. I should have clarified. I don’t think she intentionally didn’t invite you personally; it came up when we were texting the other day. And she told me 9:00.”
“So, 10:00?”
Beca can see the humor in Chloe’s eyes and finds relief. “Yeah, make it 10:00.” Chloe knows how Beca hates being first to any event whether a baby shower or a red carpet and something about that, as small as it is, makes her feel warm and fuzzy.
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
Inevitably, there are photographers waiting at all entrances to Aubrey’s party venue when Beca and Chloe arrive; Beca even asks the driver to circle the block hoping to find a clear entrance to no avail.
Pushing through shouting photographers and blinding flashes, they walk hand-in-hand into the very upscale West Hollywood club Amy’s commandeered for the festivities. They both take it with a grain of salt; after all, there’s no such thing as bad press and Beca’s been in the studio working on an album with a number one pop star and the sequel to Chloe’s sleeper hit indie film is opening in a few months.
“Remember when we used to start our nights at midnight?” Beca asks over the music as they check out the lay of the land in the club. “It’s barely 10:00 and I’d like being in bed right now just as much as this. Maybe more.”
She means to be whining about how they’re getting older; after all, they’re at Aubrey’s 35th birthday party. However, in classic Chloe fashion that makes Beca roll her eyes just as much as it makes her smile, Chloe leans close to whisper hotly in her ear, “I promise, you’d like being in bed right now a lot more than this.”
“Keep it in your pants. We at least need to make an appearance before dragging me into a dark corner.”
“Like I’d really have to drag you,” Chloe says before pressing a kiss to Beca’s cheek, followed by her neck. “And I’m wearing a dress, not pants.”
Beca smirks to herself and slips her arm around Chloe’s waist. They’re still making up for a decade of lost time together and Beca is as wildly attracted to her now as she was when she was 18.
Dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb. 
Well, not that dumb. She was wildly attracted to Aubrey when she was 18, too. Aubrey was just the one that was brave enough to make a move. Beca can still remember the vitriol laced with sadness seeping from Chloe when she walked in on them kissing in Aubrey’s hotel room in New York while traveling for a competition.
When she spots a few members of the cast of her current favorite TV show, Beca muses to herself how absurd it is that the three of them found the success they did. The indie movie about dragons (with questionable special effects) Chloe had booked to help ends meet in grad school had blown up far past the core audience of the readers of the book it was adapted from. She now has three more films lined up—more adaptations of books in the series (with better special effects). It had almost been a joke when she auditioned and now she was one of the biggest movie stars in the world.
Aubrey started with Lighthouse Television as an intern on their legal team. Seven years later, she had a corner office on the top floor. Four more years and a massive corruption scandal that she blew the whistle on, and she was running the entire network.
Of the three, Beca’s the only one who planned to end up with the career she has today. But the fact that any of them have the careers they have at all is, she knows, more than a little unlikely. She remembers a journalist once asked Chloe what was in the water back at quaint Barden University.
When they finally find Aubrey, she’s talking to several people Beca doesn’t recognize but she can tell they all recognize her and/or Chloe by the looks on their faces as they approach.
“You guys came!” Aubrey says, interrupting her own conversation to leave the group and rush over to hug them, first Chloe, then Beca. She’s wearing a sparkly black dress, fitted at the bust with a free-flowing skirt that stops a few inches above her knees. Her hair is down, save for the bit that’s clipped back above her left ear, and for a moment, Beca remembers the things that made her fall for the woman all those years ago.
Beca feels her linger a second or two too long and eases out of their embrace. “Happy Birthday!” she says. “This party is amazing!”
“Oh, you know how Amy is,” Aubrey says with a wave of her hand. “The word ‘understated’ doesn’t exist in her vocabulary. Where are your drinks?” she continues, barely stopping to breathe. She’s already tipsy; Beca can see it in the color of her cheeks and the way her shoulders aren’t holding their perfect posture. “Let me get you a drink.” Her hand is up and snapping before either of them can politely offer to fetch one themselves. “These two are my best friends,” she says to the waitress who appears from seemingly nowhere. “Get them anything they want.”
She and Chloe exchange a look at Aubrey labeling them as her best friends. They’ve been little more than strained acquaintances since Beca and Chloe got married, keeping up the bare minimum of civility required when co-parenting a child of divorce.
“What can I get you?” they’re asked.
“Bourbon,” Beca answers. “On the rocks.”
Chloe eyes her and Beca knows what she’s thinking: that she hasn’t anything stronger than wine in a long time. They’ve both been so busy with work and family that nights out have been few and far between. “Vodka soda with a splash of cranberry,” Chloe orders for herself and Beca gives her the same look.
Maybe they’re both in dire need of a fun night.
Chloe shrugs in response and threads her fingers with Beca’s.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m actually in the middle of a business conversation,” Aubrey says with a glance over her shoulder at the group she abandoned. “Go enjoy the party. I’ll find you guys later, okay?”
“Working at your own birthday party?” Chloe asks. Beca thinks there’s more than a hint of judgment laced with the comment but Aubrey just nods in response before returning to her presumed colleagues.
“Come on,” Beca says to distract Chloe from whatever weirdness is happening. “Dance with me.” She gives her hand a tug to lead them toward the dance floor.
“But our drinks,” Chloe says with a glance over her shoulder even though her feet are following Beca.
“She’ll find us.” Beca reels Chloe in close when they hit the polished black dance floor; she’s determined to have a good time tonight. “Dance with me,” she repeats and watches Chloe’s distraction disappear. 
Chloe’s arms slip around Beca’s waist to hold her just as closely. “It’s been a while.”
“Exactly,” Beca says as she leans in to touch her lips to Chloe’s as they fall into an easy rhythm together.
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
The waitress definitely found them.
Beca’s hanging on to Chloe to keep herself upright as they laugh. She doesn’t even know what they’re laughing about but it’s so hilarious she can barely catch her breath and Chloe’s laughter in her ear sounds prettier than any song Beca’s ever heard. Chloe runs a hand through her fiery curls and it stirs up her perfume. It draws Beca in like a magnet and her lips are on her neck while Chloe continues to laugh.
Not that Beca minds. A happy Chloe is the most attractive Chloe there is and Chloe’s hands are moving over Beca with possessive purpose. Parties like this, full of “industry people,” are the only places they’re safe to act like themselves. They can’t go to a regular bar on a normal night without causing an uproar, let alone feel each other up on the dance floor without angering their publicists with tabloid photos and trending on Twitter or becoming a meme.
She never got that freedom with Chloe; Beca was already walking red carpets when they finally found each other. Their entire relationship, they’ve had to do their best to be “appropriate” (whatever that means) in public. 
Tonight, though, Beca’s teeth nip at Chloe’s neck playfully when she feels Chloe’s fingertips slipping under the waistband of her black pants to tease her.
“What are you doing?” Beca asks before lifting her head to kiss Chloe instead of letting her respond.
“What does it feel like?” Chloe mumbles against her lips before cutting off any follow-up questions by giving Beca’s tongue something better to do.
She loses track of time after that. She can feel the edge of the bar digging into her back as Chloe presses against her like she can’t get close enough. They haven’t stopped kissing except for the brief moments needed to breathe or down their very, very strong drinks that keep appearing on the bar behind Beca without anyone asking for another. Chloe’s managed to undo at least three buttons on Beca’s white blouse and Beca is grateful that she isn’t wearing a front-clasping bra because if she was, she knows Chloe would undo it and people would really get a show.
Even so, Chloe knows exactly what she’s doing and how to touch Beca to have her teetering on the sharp edge of climax without having to unbutton her pants and Beca’s having to fight off the orgasm Chloe’s managed to drive her to. Not because she doesn’t want to come, but because she doesn’t want to come in a room full of people. At least, not tonight.
Her eyes flutter open when Chloe shifts her attention back to Beca’s neck and in the strobing, flashing lights of the club, Beca notices Aubrey a few yards away. She’s not sure why she noticed her of all the people in the club in the two seconds her eyes were open. Maybe it was because Aubrey’s eyes were already on her. Or them? Watching.
Maybe it’s the bourbon, but something about that manages to turn Beca on further. The hint of jealousy she can read. The memories of the times she and Aubrey were all over each other in a club under the shield of anonymity. The way she was always able to crack Aubrey’s resistance to risky behavior and have a lot of fun together over the course of their hot, heavy, and tumultuous relationship.
And it’s not like the divorce magically made Beca’s attraction to her disappear overnight. Sure, it has waned over the years. It’s hard to notice anyone else when Chloe’s in the room.
She still notices Aubrey, though, and makes a point of guiding Chloe away from her neck to give hers the same treatment. Aubrey doesn’t look away; in fact, a hint of a smile touches her lips when Beca holds her gaze while her tongue glides along Chloe’s skin.
Beca’s too slow to react when Chloe pulls away, intent on kissing her again, when she notices Beca’s eyes aren’t closed. Or even trained on Chloe.
“Who are you looking at?” Chloe asks, slurring a little as she turns to follow Beca’s gaze.
“No one,” Beca says. She knows she maybe should panic when Chloe spots Aubrey, at least a little, but the bourbon and lust are sitting so warm in her belly and brain that she just kind of smiles as she says it.
When Chloe turns back to her, she looks a little sympathetic. “She’s really beautiful.”
“You’re beautifuller,” Beca says as she tries to lean in for another kiss.
“Wait, wait,” Chloe giggles, though her question is serious. “Is there a tiny part of you that still wants her? You can tell me, you know. I trust you.” Her hands are still moving, caressing Beca’s face and neck and the bare skin of her chest where her shirt is open.
“I want you.” Beca grins and pulls her close, words spilling out without thinking. “I want you...and her.”
It’s the bourbon. It’s definitely the bourbon. And the arousal throbbing between her legs. A flash of regret zips through her when she realizes what she said. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought about until 30 seconds ago.
“Right?” Chloe says after a surprised silence. Her smile looks devilish before it’s kissing Beca again. Then she’s turning to wave at Aubrey. “Hey! Come here! We need you!”
Beca doesn’t know if Aubrey can hear Chloe but she crosses the room anyway, tottering a little on her heels with a drink in her hand.
Beca can’t help it. She can’t help but stare at her ex-wife and remember how every inch of her skin tastes and feels and the way her voice sounds when she— 
“Hi,” Aubrey says with an easy smile.
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
Beca’s not sure who brought whom to the club manager’s office but Chloe’s closing and locking the door behind them when Beca feels Aubrey’s hand on her lower back.
She also doesn’t remember a discussion happening. She remembers replying to Aubrey’s, “Hi,” with a “Hey,” of her own and now she’s standing by while Chloe and Aubrey seem to size one another up with a level of heat and intensity that shouldn’t exist between two former best friends.
Chloe glances at Beca who just nods, because whatever this is, whatever is happening, she wants it to continue.
And then her current wife is leaning in to kiss her ex-wife.
It shouldn’t be hot; she ought to be angry or jealous but instead, she bites her lip to stop the moan that wants to escape just from watching Aubrey tilt Chloe’s head to slip her tongue into her mouth. If Beca’s underwear weren’t already ruined from Chloe’s advances earlier, witnessing that would have done it.
And Beca thinks Chloe would have every right to be angry or jealous when the kiss ends and Aubrey turns toward Beca, but instead, Chloe’s hand is on the back of Beca’s neck, guiding her right into Aubrey’s kiss with a look of excitement.
She’d almost forgotten what it felt like to kiss Aubrey. She was a precision kisser, calculated even in their wildest moments, always working to make Beca’s toes curl and this is no different. Her tongue teases over Beca’s with skill and familiarity that makes it easy for Beca to shake off the last vestiges of hesitation about what’s about to happen.
What is already happening.
She’s barely getting used to it when the hand at her neck guides her away from Aubrey and pulls her into Chloe.
Unlike Aubrey’s precision, Chloe’s kisses are wild and barely contained, always walking the line of passionate sloppiness without crossing it (well, sometimes she crosses it when they really get going). She feels a third hand on her back, and then just two again, as a third tongue slips its way somehow into their kiss.
It’s not like Beca’s never done this before. She and Chloe have what Beca feels is a very active, adventurous, healthy sex life. They’ve taken a woman on a date, intentions and possibilities known and agreed to by all, and brought her back to a luxury hotel room (because they would never bring a stranger into their home) for sex. Not because they were bored with each other, but to the contrary: they wanted to see how wild and daring they were comfortable getting.
She thinks, foggily as she bows out of the triple-kiss to re-introduce herself to the way Aubrey’s neck feels under her tongue to let Chloe and her get used to each other, that having a ménage à trois with her former and current wives is pretty damn wild and daring.
There are hands on her, out of synch in their missions but familiar in their confidence. There’s one on her ass and she knows it’s Aubrey’s. There’s another in her shirt, somehow fully unbuttoned now, holding her breast and she knows it’s Chloe’s. 
Her own hands are roaming and long to touch Aubrey in places she hasn’t in so many years. It’s automatic to reach for and find the zipper at the back of her dress and, to her surprise, there’s already a hand there.
The fact that it’s Chloe, and that Chloe is on the same page, makes her dip her other hand right between Chloe’s legs, under her dress, to press against her.
She hears Chloe’s soft moan and feels Aubrey react to it (or to the fact that they’re both unzipping her dress), the hand on her ass gripping harder. Beca has to look because there’s no way this is happening (right?) and she eases back from sucking on Aubrey’s neck long enough to see that she’s found her wife’s chest and is quite actively toying with Chloe’s nipple, which is so hard Beca can see the details through her dress even in the dark of the room. It makes her mouth water.
She needs four hands and two mouths. That’s the only way this night isn’t going to be a constant battle of satisfaction versus frustration.
At the very least, they need to not be standing in the middle of the room. She’s about to push them toward the large sectional couch along the far wall when Aubrey starts to pull both of them in that very direction.
Aubrey lands first and she pulls Chloe down with her to resume a kiss that Beca knows, from first-hand experience, is surely melting both of them. Beca follows, everyone shifting further backward, and molds herself to Chloe’s back, chin hooked over her shoulder to watch them.
She lets her hands move over Chloe, over her chest to feel for herself how hard her nipples are, down to her waist and hips and thighs to notice that Chloe’s landed with her knee between Aubrey’s, straddling her thigh as she kneels.
It’s quite a show, Beca thinks, watching them kiss. They kiss like they’ve been waiting to kiss for years.
Beca would know. She’s been that person.
And she has a front-row seat to it as she clings to Chloe’s back, chin on her shoulder as her arms frame Chloe’s hips as her hands rest on Aubrey’s thighs. She can feel Chloe’s restlessness, shifting and twisting every few seconds that is a clear tell that she is starting to get desperate for touch. Chloe getting turned on by Aubrey turns Beca on even more. She can’t help but bite at Chloe’s shoulder, bare next to the strap of her dress.
Aubrey’s eyes flutter and their eyes meet before they’re closed again, Aubrey whimpering as Chloe’s entire body shifts forward to press closer. It makes Beca reach for Chloe to flatten her palm and run it under the hem of the top of her two-piece dress. She feels Aubrey’s hand skate over her own to run up Chloe’s body until it’s shifting to reach for Beca. Her hand finds Beca’s face and cradles it as Beca’s mouth shifts to Chloe’s neck.
She can feel Aubrey’s fingertips as they trace her hairline, the edge of her ear, the line of her jaw, the softness of Beca’s bottom lip until her finger is slipping into Beca’s mouth.
It makes Beca moan and she takes Aubrey into her mouth, lips traveling to her knuckle before she pulls back, sucking as she goes. Her hands move up over Chloe’s ribs until Beca’s hands are over her breasts. She squeezes and Chloe’s reaction is to kiss Aubrey more deeply, the two of them moaning.
But Aubrey retreats, pulling back from Chloe’s kiss enough to get her attention and turn it toward Beca with a tilt of her chin. Chloe turns to look just as Aubrey’s finger slips from Beca’s lips. Beca feels the tip of it under her chin, guiding her up to kiss Chloe—not that she needed guidance—who kisses her hungrily.
Aubrey’s hands are on Chloe and Beca knows it. Their hands are crossing paths as they both reach for her, grazing at her chest and bumping at her hips.
“Please,” Chloe whispers against Beca’s lips as they kiss. She doesn’t say what she wants, but she doesn’t need to. Beca pulls and pushes at her hips until she gets the hint and turns, falling back against Aubrey whose arms immediately encircle her. Beca takes a step back for a second, just to watch as Aubrey’s hands push Chloe’s top higher and higher until her bra is exposed, as Chloe tilts her head back so she can find Aubrey’s mouth, how Aubrey’s legs part so Chloe can sit between them.
Chloe’s hands reach out toward Beca and Beca makes her wait, just for a moment or two, until Chloe whines and drops her hands, one to Aubrey’s thigh and the other two her own. It quickly moves up Chloe’s thigh and Beca’s about to reach for it and stop her from getting too far when Aubrey does it for her.
She looks up to find Aubrey watching her, still kissing Chloe as she pulls Chloe’s hand away from herself with audible protest. It makes Beca reach for Chloe, hands skating up her thighs to hook her fingers into the waistband of her thong and pull it down her legs and past the heels Chloe is still wearing.
It takes the last ounce of self-control Beca has to not immediately reach between Chloe’s legs. Instead, she moves up, dropping kisses over Chloe’s bare stomach and the swells of her breasts where Aubrey’s hands are, to Chloe’s throat and chin until her mouth is on Beca’s instead of Aubrey’s.
Chloe’s entire body rolls with their reconnection, or maybe it’s because Aubrey’s hands are at her back unhooking her bra. She feels Chloe’s repeated plea against her lips more than she hears it, but Aubrey definitely hears it. Chloe’s suddenly being pushed toward Beca, guided until they’re both upright and on their knees. Beca blindly pulls Chloe’s loosened bra away and the top of her dress being removed interrupts their kiss for a second only to resume with even more fervor.
Beca can feel Aubrey moving and with a brief glance, sees her on her knees as well, behind Chloe so close as she kisses Chloe’s neck just inches from Beca. She can feel Aubrey’s hands moving between them; they’re on Chloe, on her stomach and on her breasts, but Beca’s so close that they’re touching her, too, and her impatience gets the best of her.
She stops drawing out the foreplay and skates her hand up Chloe’s thigh under her skirt until it’s between her legs.
Chloe’s mouth slips away from Beca’s with a startlingly loud moan and Beca can feel just why that is. Chloe’s so wet that it actually takes Beca a second to feel more than just slick wetness beneath her fingers.
“Fuck,” Beca exhales. She savors it, her own breath catching when she feels how swollen Chloe is. When she opens her eyes she’s expecting to see Chloe’s face but instead, it’s Aubrey’s. Her eyes are dark and fixated on Beca’s. Beca’s compelled to lean forward and kiss her and she knows Aubrey wants the same. They try, but with Chloe between them, they can’t quite reach one another. Instead, they stare until Aubrey’s eyes fall closed and there’s another, this time surprised, moan spilling from Chloe’s lips.
Chloe’s head lolls back to rest against Aubrey’s shoulder and she looks down her nose at Beca, nothing but wild lust in her eyes before her hips rock forward. It pushes Beca’s hand further between her legs and it’s Beca’s turn to moan. Her fingers bump into something she hasn’t felt between Chloe’s legs before: Aubrey’s hand. 
Specifically, she can feel where Aubrey’s fingers disappear into Chloe as Aubrey reaches her from behind.
It’s an out-of-body experience, really. To be sharing her wife with the woman with whom she used to share so much. With whom she still shares so much.
She and Aubrey had never done something like this, not with a third person. They’d been young and wild but in a different way than she and Chloe are.
“Oh, my God,” Chloe says through another moan as Beca feels Aubrey’s fingers start to slip in and out. Her hips follow and the motion spurs Beca’s own fingers into proper action.
Her fingertips press against Chloe and move in the way she knows can drive Chloe over the edge in a few short minutes. It isn’t that she wants it to end quickly, but she’s overwhelmed by the need to make Chloe feel good, to help Aubrey blow Chloe’s mind.
Hands grab at and touch Beca all over; she can’t keep track of whose hands they are and she doesn’t care to try. She’s too busy fucking Chloe with Aubrey, 
She loses herself in it, the cadence the three of them fall into, fingers and hips moving in a coordinated, if frantic, rhythm. Hands clutch at her hips and she knows Chloe’s close and fighting it. Beca opens her eyes to watch it happen and she meets Aubrey’s gaze first as Aubrey’s lips and tongue move across Chloe’s shoulder to her neck to her ear.
Beca sees the words Aubrey whispers in Chloe’s ear more than she hears them; it’s difficult to hear over Chloe’s voice and their empathetic answering moans.
Chloe comes with a wanton cry, one hand gripping Beca’s wrist between her legs, the other clutching the back of Aubrey’s neck.
It’s a beautiful sight and for a moment, Beca thinks she could come, too, right there, from watching Chloe’s experience and sharing in it with Aubrey.
Aubrey, who’s staring at Beca with a look she hasn’t born witness to in years. A look that Beca’s never forgotten and neither has her body if the way the ache between her legs spikes in intensity because she knows what it means.
Chloe’s still coming down from her high, half-collapsed against Aubrey when Chloe mumbles a breathless, “That was so hot,” followed by a whimper. A few seconds later, Beca notices Aubrey has her own fingers in her mouth and Beca knows they’re the same fingers she’s just withdrawn from Chloe.
Chloe, in her uber-relaxed state, slumps to the side and Beca and Aubrey help to slow her collapse. They’ve barely finished getting her situated when Aubrey’s surging forward to kiss Beca.
It makes Beca’s head spin. Aubrey tastes like Chloe and she moans into the kiss as Aubrey’s hands start to undress her.  Her shirt, already unbuttoned, is pulled down her arms, followed by her bra.
She doesn’t remember when her pants had been unbuttoned but they’re already loose around her hips when Aubrey’s pushing them down. They don’t make it far, still on her knees as she is, but Aubrey’s solution to that is to grab Beca’s hips and turn her to trade places.
“Up,” Aubrey says against Beca’s lips and she doesn’t understand until her ass hits the back of the couch. It’s deep enough that Beca is able to slide onto it to sit and as soon as she’s seated, Aubrey’s working her pants past her knees.
At the same time, Beca feels her heels be slipped off though Aubrey’s hands are definitely on her pants and she glances down to see Chloe, though still dreamy-eyed, has come back to herself and is helping Aubrey undress Beca.
Two different hands pull at her underwear and Beca knows she’s about to find out just how hot it was for Chloe to have the two of them fucking her. She feels dizzy and digs her nails into the edge of the couch and leans back against the wall, almost fearful of passing out because her heart is beating so quickly.
She already knows what Aubrey is going to do; the look she’d given Beca was her warning and she watches as Aubrey guides her thighs apart and gets onto her own hands and knees to be able to put her tongue on Beca.
It feels like it’s in slow-motion as Aubrey’s pointed, purposeful tongue draws a line between her legs, moaning as she does so.
It makes Beca’s jaw drop and her hand fly to the back of Aubrey’s head, fingers twisting into soft blond hair she hasn’t held this way in so many years. She’s sure she makes some kind of sound, probably a sound she’d be ashamed of in any other scenario. It hasn’t even finished escaping her lips when Chloe’s mouth is on hers.
She moans again, senses quickly overwhelmed by the dormant memories of how Aubrey used to make love to her roaring back to real life and Chloe’s wild, passionate kisses that seem to be as reassuring as they are purely sexual.
There are hands at her breasts and they aren’t moving in sync. One caresses while the other squeezes. One pinches while the other pulls.
She has to tear her mouth from Chloe’s to try to catch her breath but it offers little reprieve; Chloe’s lips drop to Beca’s chest instead to suck hard. She glances down and regrets it instantly because Aubrey’s hand is tangled in Chloe’s hair, pushing her mouth to Beca’s breast just as Chloe’s hand covers Beca’s to push Aubrey closer.
It sends her over the edge without warning, gasping for breath as she shudders. She can hear Aubrey moaning; she’d always gotten off on making Beca come, and she wonders if she’s touching herself and coming. Or if Chloe’s touching her. Or if she’s coming just from the intensity of the moment like Beca nearly did.
It’s the last coherent thought she has before she can’t think any longer.
She’s still trying to recover when she feels Aubrey disappear from between her legs. She whines at the loss and starts to protest when she sees the reason for her absence: Chloe’s pulled Aubrey away by her hair and is pulling her—not gently—back up to her knees until she’s claiming her mouth.
All Beca can do is watch; she’s too spent to do anything but watch as Chloe kisses Aubrey deeply. As Chloe’s hand disappears between Aubrey’s legs. As Aubrey’s head tips back with a groan.
They quickly lose themselves in each other but they don’t forget about Beca. Aubrey’s hand, the one not holding on to Chloe, roams Beca’s body. Chloe’s hand is on her thigh, just holding on as though she’s keeping Chloe from floating away.
Maybe she is, Beca thinks as, mind still hazy, she notices her hand is between her own legs.
She notices it almost distractedly, like an afterthought, that she’s touching herself while her wife and her ex fuck right next to her.
There’s no room to care about modesty or feel ashamed. She’s still so turned on that she has to press hard to get any friction against herself. Soaked in the same way Chloe was—and probably still is.
Aubrey and Chloe’s voices sound so good together, she does manage to note, and she focuses on them. It’s too difficult to keep her eyes open to watch so she listens. She listens to Aubrey’s increasingly desperate moans, to Chloe’s sighs and words of encouragement, to the unmistakable sounds of wetness—her own and Aubrey’s. She feels Aubrey’s fingers tugging on her nipple and Chloe’s nails on her inner thigh. Feels her own fingers on her clit.
She hears how close Aubrey is and, unexpectedly, how close Chloe is as well.
Chloe had been the sole giver when Beca had closed her eyes and she has to open them to see what’s happening, to see the way Aubrey’s hand moves between Chloe’s legs and how their hips buck as they ride each other’s fingers.
It yanks Beca right to the edge just as they climax and her own rushes through her in tandem with theirs.
All she can register beside her ecstasy is how good they all sound together. Just like they used to.
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
Beca is still drunk.
It’s the first thing she notices when she wakes up. She’s also thirsty and feels like she needs a shower.
It’s also far too early to be awake—it’s still dark—and she turns over to move in closer to Chloe, warm and soft next to her.
She’s just drifting off again when there’s movement behind her and an arm slipping around her waist followed by lips on the back of her shoulder.
Her mind is foggy and it takes a few seconds to register that it isn’t Chloe because Chloe is in front of her, not behind. Then she catches a whiff of familiar perfume.
The memories of last night surface and though Beca thinks she should probably be horrified or embarrassed, she’s instead filled with a kind of warmth and she moves her foot backward to slip between Aubrey’s.
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
The next time she wakes up, the bedroom is alight with the orange glow of dawn. She’s no longer drunk and she’s awake and is alone with her thoughts and memories until she feels Chloe stir.
She’s awake, too, and wiggles until she’s turned over to face Beca. “Morning,” Chloe says with a sleepy smile. For a moment, Beca wonders if Chloe remembers what transpired the night before until Chloe asks, “How are you?”
“I’m good,” she replies. And she is, Beca thinks. She’s okay with what happened. It was a wild, drunken encounter between three consenting adults, all of whom trust and care for the others. “Are you?”
Chloe beams at her, even through her hangover, and nods.
“Oh, my God, my head is pounding.”
The voice startles Beca as it breaks their whispered conversation. She cranes her neck to look over her shoulder at Aubrey sitting up next to her, one hand holding the sheet to her chest, the other clutching her forehead.
“I can make coffee,” Chloe says helpfully and starts to move but Beca touches her hip to tell her to stay.
“It’s okay, I’ll do it.” She’s been awake long enough that the threat of physical movement causing instant nausea has lessened.
She detangles herself from the sheets to crawl off the foot of the bed; there’s a familiar graze of fingertips across her shoulder and it stirs bittersweet nostalgia within her. It’s only when she’s on her feet and turning back while she tugs a T-shirt over her head to face what’s in her bed that the gravity genuinely sets in. She’s out of bed, out of the bubble, and she feels it pop.
She slept with her ex-wife last night.
So did her wife.
Nausea rushes her and she thinks she might gag but her reaction to the stress is interrupted by the pounding of a tiny fist on the door.
“Mama!”
“Shit,” Aubrey hisses, suddenly coming back to life as she scrambles out of bed.
“Just a minute, sweetie!” Chloe sing-songs and Beca can hear the panic in her voice.
Beca feels stuck and her brain is struggling to process; she doesn’t know what will happen if Sophie walks in to find her Mom, Mama, and Mommy having a sleepover together.
“Can I lock the door?!” Aubrey whisper-shouts as she frantically searches for items of her clothing to get dressed. 
“Yes, you can lock the door!” Beca manages to say, brain beginning to work and feet starting to move to find shorts to put on. 
“It wasn’t already locked?” Chloe asks from the bed she’s making while she’s still in it.
Aubrey’s running around so quickly, Beca’s not sure she won’t set the floor on fire. “Aubrey, she can’t see you; slow down.”
“I’m supposed to pick her up for our trip to the aquarium in—” she looks at a phone she finds on the floor—“five minutes!”
“In your dress from the party?” Chloe asks as she crawls out from under the covers and to the end of the bed.
“Walk of shame, I guess,” Aubrey says she tries to shove her arms into the sleeves of her dress that’s on backward.
“Oh, my God, here,” Beca says as she finds and hands Aubrey another of her tees.
Aubrey looks at it and frowns. “Budweiser? Really?”
“Turn it inside out.”
“You know, there’s no shame in—” Beca starts but Aubrey cuts her off.
“I’m going to go around the back and ring the doorbell, okay?” she says, already heading for the sliding glass door. “Crush some aspirin and put it in my coffee? I’m dying.”
“Yeah, sure,” Chloe says from her spot on the bed. She’s eating a piece of cake and Beca does a double-take. She has no idea where she got cake from.
“Savior,” Aubrey says before she disappears, still holding her heels instead of wearing them.
“Mom!” Sophie shouts again.
“Just a sec, sweetheart!” Beca calls in response as she starts toward the door, only to stop and look at Chloe, naked in bed eating mystery cake with a smile. “Are we...fine?”
Chloe shrugs and sucks the frosting off the tines of her fork. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
Beca makes a mental note to circle back on this situation once they’re both clear-headed and pulls open the bedroom door just as the doorbell rings. “Good morning, my big girl!” she says as she reaches down to lift her daughter and hug her good morning. “Did you hear the doorbell? Mommy’s here! Let’s go say ‘hi’!”
Aubrey looks impossibly flustered when Beca opens the front door and, she realizes, the morning panic was unnecessary. It’s not as though Sophie is old enough to understand what a Walk of Shame looks like or what it even meant for Aubrey to spend the night with Beca and Chloe.
“Morning,” she says with a smirk as she hands her wiggling-with-excitement daughter to Aubrey who immediately showers her face with kisses.
Aubrey doesn’t quite make eye contact, instead choosing to stay focused on making Sophie giggle.
“I’m making coffee.” The words drift past them as Chloe makes her way to the kitchen. “You’re welcome to join us for a cup,” she adds.
Aubrey does meet Beca’s eyes then as if questioning the invitation, or maybe asking for permission.
“Come on in,” Beca says after a beat, stepping aside to let Aubrey [back] into their home.
She doesn’t understand what transpired between them. Maybe she isn’t supposed to. She doesn’t regret it, at least not yet. It was fun. It was hot. And Chloe actually inviting Aubrey [back] into their home this morning and not being upset is a relief. Their long-held and only-somewhat thinly veiled contempt for one another has been exhausting for Beca to navigate and, at least for the moment, seems to have evaporated.
Beca can’t say she minds as she closes the door to join them in the kitchen.
It would be kind of nice to have Aubrey around more without the tension.
And if there was tension...Beca thinks as she watches Chloe tease Aubrey by tickling at her lower back...they have a pretty good way to relieve it.
The End
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ftkd-arts · 5 years ago
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HC: Dumbbell
Remember Dumbbell, Rainbow Dash's old bully? He's a main parent in Harmonyverse, the bo of not one, but two of the Mane Six.
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Throughout his foalhood, he took his frustrations out on pegasi runts, because his father had repeatedly told him he himself was a runt. That doesn't excuse Dumbbell's actions, of course, but that's where the seed of poor self esteem was planted, resulting in Dumbbell being a chaotic bully figure. He was the kind of bully that was sometimes your rude friend too; the type you invite over for a game of baseball or something every once and awhile. Basically he was a Buford from Phineas and Ferb-esque bully.
Dumbbell is a mountain of a muscular pegasus. Despite his job at the Weather Factory, which he was forced into taking as a teen after his cheating father ditched his sick mom, Dumbbell never truly have up on his life goal; weightlifting. He wanted to become a famous sportsman, so he could have the money to take care of his mom, brothers and sisters.
The "Boy Bullies" are all brothers, only a few of their numerous siblings. He was the oldest boy, so it fell to him to be the breadwinner until their mom recovered from an illness. Hoops had too much riding on him with the basketball team, and Score was already an intern for an Equestrian Hoofball company. It made the most sense for Dumbbell to quickly snag a full-time gig at the Weather Factory. Score and Hoops managed to get part-time spots.
As an adult, Dumbbell quite likes his job and the world of meteorology. He still hasn't given up on bodybuilding, and one day wishes to hold the world record for lifting weights.
That's where Dumbbell met Lance Barbell, better known as Bulk Biceps. Cloudsdale was holding a weightlifting competition that Dumbbell caught wind of, only by his co-workers complaining about the Oatstrian rock of a pegasus that kept winning. Dumbbell got his bros to cover for him, determined to prove himself against this loud stallion... And thus, a rivalry was born.
Dumbbell was baffled by the sheer strength of Bulk Biceps. Bulk kept one-uping him, and Dumbbell was well pissed by the seventh time that dumb stranger won over him.
Like the idiot he is, Dumbbell ended up spraining his back. Thankfully, Bulk Biceps is also a physical therapist, and offered to fix Dumbbell right up, free of charge. Reluctantly, Dumbbell took the offer. He was basically just insulting Bulk Biceps the entire time... and didn't seem to notice when the insults became playful banter.
Afterwards, Dumbbell kept running into Lance at the gym, day after day, until eventually, the two started waiting for the other to show up. Their rivalry was soon filtered in friendship.
Bulk Biceps, very nervously, cracked up the courage to sing Dumbbell a song he had wrote about him... a love song, that is. Dumbbell turned into a stammering beet red dork, of course, so the only way to answer his friend's love declaration was to kiss the shy stallion.
They married young and quickly, Bulk opted to have a child, twhich Bell agreed, after some convincing. Their only son is one Featherweight. Dumbbell festered a lot of fear over parenthood, hating the idea of ruining his kid or becoming his own asshole of a father. When Featherweight was very young, Dumbbell kept a distance, and started taking up more shifts at the factory. Due to his absence, Bulk Biceps started to become lonely and clingy towards his husband. This only drew Dumbbell farther away, as he was uncomfortable with how dependant everyone was on him...
Bulk and Bell struggled for a long time, until he missed Featherweight's nineth birthday party. Featherweight had waited all day for his Pops to come. Then he waited until midnight. 1 AM. 2 AM. Soon enough, it was 6 o'clock in the morning. He ended up falling asleep in Bulk's arms, with snot and tears coating his fur.
Dumbbell finally arrived home at seven. He had forgotten about the special day, since a crowd of pegasi were trying out for the Wonderbolts and he had wanted to watch. He had been with one try-out all night... He swore to Lance nothing happened despite the signals that mare was sending him, but Bulk couldn't forgive Dumbbell for missing their son's birthday, just so he could flirt. "Maybe, if you don't plan on showing up for your son's birthday... you shouldn't show up at all."
And so, the pair divorced. Bulk Biceps took primary custody of Featherweight.
Dumbbell threw himself into his work after that. He climbed the ladder until he managed his own team of employees. He was doing so good that when the Wind Rider took a tour of the establishment, he offered to set the chap up with his daughter!
Fresh off a divorce, but Dumbbell couldn't refuse a date with a celebrity's kid, espiecally when that celebrity kept joking about ending Dumbbell's career if he hurt Wind Rider's daughter. So, a blind date ensued.
Wouldn't you know it, the mare turned out to be that try-out flirt, a miss Lightning Dust. Their relationship was always rocky and filled with arguments and pettiness, but they did genuinely love each other. When Lightning Dust came up pregnant, Wind Rider pressured the two into a shotgun marriage. From then on, they had even more things to disbute over. Wind chose the name of their first son, Thunderweight.
The first big chip at their love was when a colt Thunderweight attempted a dangerous flight trick that Lightning Dust had promised was harmless. A baby could do it, she insisted! Well, little Thunder landed right into the hospital with multiple broken bones and a concussion. Their house was brimming with fights over the past few days, until Dumbbell threatened to take the matter to court (and take Thunderweight away, permanently). Lightning Dust eventually agreed to dismantle the Washouts and join a different team, the Shadowbolts; a group of quick pegasi racers.
They had three more children-- Phoenix Ashes, and the baby twins Hailstorm and Whirlwind. Dumbbell finally had enough of Lightning Dust's smooth manipluations when it was discovered that Phoenix had a personality disorder caused by her mother's "tough love", aka how Light would only give Phoenix attention if she did what she wanted. If not, Lightning Dust acted as if her eldest girl didn't exist. What Dumbbell hated more was how Lightning Dust just shrugged and dismissed this, thinking her race was more important than this "dumb little visit".
Dumbbell divorced and convinced the court that the children would be better off with him. Even Wind Rider couldn't muster up the lawyers to get custody for the kids.
Dumbbell tried being a very present, very good single dad. He had to give little Phoenix a bit more care than the others, stirring up some resentment among her siblings. Thunderweight became her ruthless bully, as he blamed her for the divorce, and even roped a child Hailstorm into preying upon Phoenix Ashes. She became terrified of her brothers and stopped leaving her room. Dumbbell was so exhausted caring for all of them and working full-time... it was so, so hard; he didn't know how his mother had done it.
In her mid-teens, Phoenix Ashes ran away from Cloudsdale. Dumbbell was beside himself with worry and was a shade from a mental breakdown, when Whirlwind suggested that maybe if he found someone new to love, he might be happier. He didn't go out right away; he waited frantically until he got a call from Featherweight, claiming that Phoenix was staying with him for a while.
Dumbbell hadn't talked to his first kid in so long. They talked for hours and hours, simply exchanging life stories. Turns out, Featherweight was now a professional sports photographer and the hotshot Editor In Chief of the Ponyville Newspaper. The scrawny pegasus was even about to be a father himself! It felt so nice getting to know his son again. Dumbbell promised that they would talk more. To Featherweight's delight, he's kept it.
Knowing his daughter was safe gave Dumbbell a chance to relax for a moment. He had been scaring himself with nightmares and terrible daydreams of what might've happened to her. He took a few weeks to breathe and reconnect with his family.
Dumbbell knew that Thunderweight and Hailstorm, though a surly duo, were just scared kids deep down, missing their mother terribly. Dumbbell tried to get closer to them, and encouraged their special talents, beauty and art respectively. He even got his boys to workout with him, sometimes. That's not to say their behavior went unpunished-- Dumbbell refused to let Thunderweight tryout for the Wonderbolts and he took away Hailstorm's art supplies. ("You can go back to whatever you're doing when you learn some manners, colts. You're not children anymore, so stop acting like it! Phoenix Ashes is your /sister/, your flesh and blood, and you drove her away. Both of you should be ashamed of yourselves!")
Thank Celestia his youngest wasn't an asshole. Whirlwind had been cooking up some date for a while now, and she was so happy when dear ole dad finally accepted to go. Whirlwind couldn't help spilling her idea.
Whirly wanted him to go out with a girl he had briefly dated in his teenage years... Rainbow Dash. Reluctantly, Bell gave her a call. He was surprised that he actually heard back from her; and even more so when she said yes.
Dumbbell scrambled to the date, nervous but cocky, and was a bit shaken up when he found out Rainbow Dash had brought her wife to the date.
The Earth Pony was very excited to meet him. Her name was "Pinkamena Diane Pie, but all my friends call me Pinkie Pie!"
Dumbbell was very confused and very awkward. He went on with it nervously, but ended up having a great time. Pinkie Pie was so upbeat, energetic and funny, and Rainbow Dash was still a proud showboat dork. They had another date. And another. And another. And another.
Eventually, Dumbbell was the wives' official boyfriend. They didn't mind that he had kids, seeing as they had their own herd nicknamed "the Quad Squad", consisting of Airhead, Creampuff, Starburst and Jawbreaker.
After Thunderweight got his own place, Dumbbell soon moved to Ponyville. He lives with Pinkie, Rainbow Crash, Crash's parents, Whirlwind and Hailstorm.
Dumbbell's parenting skills have definitely improved, but he still doesn't think himself that great of a dad. He tries to be there for all his children now, and that's really all he can do at that point. He's so sorry that he missed so much of Featherweight's life, or how he didn't see how severe the bullying was on Phoenix... He slightly hates himself for not being a better father sooner. But he can't change the past, so at least he can be there for them in the present.
Other notes~
- In the Humanverse, Dumbbell comes from mixed background, but is mostly Brazilian. He is a hybrid of vague horse breeds in Ponyverse, but is very tall, muscular, and fluffy. His design is partly inspired by Lopoddity's art of him, and his father walking out on him was her idea too.
(Design description; his fur turns the color of his mane at the uncolored parts, the darkness on his ear tips and shoulder blades resemble the hue of chocolate, and the color of his hooves match that of Hoops' pelt color. I imagine his eyes as more of an icey blue than moderate azure.)
- Featherweight is the father of Apple Bloom's daughter Candy Blossom. The four prominent adults in her life share her; Feathers, AB, AB's girlfriend Diamond Tiara, and Feather's bf Pipsqueak. Dumbbell is always ready to visit his wittle granddaughter, yes yes
- Dumbbell's mother did recover from her illness after a hassle of years. It was hard, but they got there.
- Bulk Biceps enjoys a quiet, if not distant, friendship with his ex-husband. He's happy that he's a better pony now, but he wasn't going to wait for that to happen. Instead, he remarried to a strong mare by the name of Maud Pie. Featherweight's half-sibling is called Smoky Quartz.
(Since Maud is no longer with Starlight and Trixie in my verse, I've moved them around a bit. Trixie is now the wife of con-artist Flim and nature enthusiast Mudbriar, carrying their two children Willow Wisp and Wildflower, the minions of Prince Janus. I haven't decided who Starlight Glimmer is with yet- suggestions are appreciated!)
- Dumbbell's brother Hoops went onto become a local sportspony, a celebrity in Ponyville. His main gig is basketball, which to the ponies translates to punching the ball with your head or chin instead of hands. Hoops is a confident, secretly insecure boyo, that also turns into a beet red dork at the notion of romance.
Hoops is married to ex-single mother Ditzy Doo (nicknamed "Derpy Hooves" by Ponyville), and is stepfather to her daughter Dinky Doo. Hoops had his own son with her named Butterhoof after adopting a young teenage Screwball.
- Score is a tubby, socially awkward fella with social anxiety and shyness over his stunted size (he's rather short and chubby for the stallions in his family). He was the push-over type; he wasn't ever really /the/ mean bully, but the one that would encourage him and repeat what he said. He still doesn't speak up often, but is more outspoken than he was as a child or in his early to mid 20s (which is when the show takes place to me).
Score would take a paying job in Appleloosa for a small business interested in teaching sports to the youth. There Braeburn would charm the socks off Score, impressing him with shows of his Apple strength, community influence, bravery, and the flowers he kept sending his winged co-worker. Score just couldn't refuse that daring smirk when Braeburn asked him out.
Their relationship would go strong for many years... And they still are. They're that pair that argues like a married couple before they're married (they are btw), while simultaneously they're those lovebirds that can't stop snuggling each other. The two have tons of pet names, and even more embarrassing nicknames for their son Snapple.
- Dumbbell and Rainbow Dash love to shit talk Lightning Dust together. It's one of the many things that ensured their quick romance. Other reasons include endless banter, shit talking literally everything, routine workouts where they pushed each other to the limit, racing competitions, competitions in general (they hoof-wrestle a lot), flustering the hell outta the other, etc. In short, they're jerk jocks in love.
Dumbbell's relationship with Pinkie isn't as sweetly bitchy as his with Rainbow Dash. Pinkie Pie loves snuggles, kisses all de time, and is a big fan of physical contact. Her love language consists of touch and/or verbal affection. Dumbbell is thankful he found someone who is always trying to teach him something new and exciting.
She likes laying on Bell's back, teaching him how to bake, helping him through his daddy issues, encouraging his pre-existing passions, and using his shadow as shade. Dumbbell is patient with Pinkie the most of all; she is a bipolar, autistic dwarf-- though she may fall hard into depression, or may not understand something right away, it doesn't mean that's bad. It just takes bit more time, and her partners are willing to give it.
- Jawbreaker and Dumbbell box all the time. Pseudo father/son bonding time
- Dumbbell's full name is Buck Dum Belle. Pinkie calls him Bucky. Rainbow Dash calls him Dummy.
And that's all folks, my dumb hc for this one-off character that I've grown attached to, hope you enjoyed ✌️ don't take my headcanonnnn or y'know also my art. I actually redid the drawing (the other was completely different, undetailed, plain, and bland) and I'm so glad I did. This one is sooo much better you don't even know. (Yes, I did upload this on Pastelglitchesxx, but I didn't like the format so I changed it up.)
HC: Screwball; https://www.deviantart.com/gayswillrule/art/HC-Screwball-815984452
HC: Derpy Hooves; https://www.deviantart.com/gayswillrule/art/HC-Derpy-Hooves-notes-818998776
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ayakashiramblings · 6 years ago
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Koga the Phantom Thief
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Oooh, interesting! I hope I can do your idea justice! I’m so sorry for the later reply but I got a little caught up with activities and honestly, I actually wasn’t so familiar with the term phantom thief. You can PM me if the writing isn’t good or not accurate! Also, since this Sunday is Tanabata, I decided to weave in some aspects of the Star Festival.
Koga The Phantom Thief (AKA: The Time the Red Oni becomes a Blue Oni)
The Tengu also becomes fried chicken, the seer becomes blind and the instruments are very out-of-tune like a screeching Nekomata
I’m Sorry
“Heh. Sir Aoi, thy talents in the scullery are without match.”
“Yeah? Well, I wished SOMEBODY… or even better, TWO SOMEBODIES wouldn’t light a match here in front of all of us in the summer.”
In the same heated air, the intoxicating waft of fried onions, sizzling steak and coal-fired peppers drifted towards flaring nostrils. The dining table in the parlour groaned under the weight of the plethora of dishes all ready to be devoured by the famished team. Yet, even as Aoi was setting down a wooden bowl of freshly cooked rice right smack dab in the middle of the plates, a certain pair was oblivious to it all. The sheer irony of it all was that Koga had been the one to suggest going out for dinner that night while his inamorato offered up her home.
To be fair, it hadn’t escalated to anything scandalous. Mere, fleeting glances at first just subtly transforming to adorable gestures on the pretext of offering food to one another. It was only the uncomfortable whistling and marked eye avoidance from her friends that made MC rethink her stance and break eye-contact. 
All she could do was hide her face in her sleeves with a mortified groan. "Oh no," she mumbled, her words muffled against thin yukata fabric. "Why didn't you say something sooner, Koga?"
"Uh…because I liked it," came his blunt reply, trying to poke MC from her clothed haven while ignoring the censorious glare he received from Aoi for that bit of honesty. As a Satori seer, even if he tried not to peer into anyone’s hearts, it was near impossible to avoid emotions running sky high. Then again, no one could really ignore them, including a certain Nekomata.
“Is it just me or has our house gotten crowded? I don’t even know if there’s enough paper now.”
“Oh! Tanzaku!”
Smirking at her squeal, Nachi started handing out the slips of the long, narrow paper for writing wishes on and small sticks of bamboo grasses. Well, at least to those conscious. He was sure Kuya wouldn’t swallow the currently fluttering paper going up and down with each snore taken.
“Lemme see something from Koga!” “Haha, no little kitty, the wish would be broken.”
“Or I could steal the wish.”
“I’d steal it back.” “Then, prove it.”
“What, no? What’s there to prove?”
“... Chicken....”
It was then tension was almost tangible within the walls of the tiny house. Thick, like a shroud, confining and oppressive and distinctly uncomfortable to the point Kuya woke up. MC would have whipped out her Kagura wand but she had a feeling no purification could stop the damage inflicted. 
“... What…”
“The bird I’d eat for breakfast if there really wasn’t any dried fish?”
“... Oh, it’s on.”
As the sheer chaos unfolded, MC thought to recruit the rest of the comrades… only to find them all on the side of Nachi. 
“... Has he been talking to a certain fox by any chance?” The question mark that appeared visibly atop of Kuya’s head was quickly knocked by Gaku’s snarky retort,
“I dunno, Toichiro is pretty possessive of his title of being Koga’s Headache.”
“It is almost time for a midnight patrol…” Ginnojo conceded with what could have passed off as indifference… were it not for him suddenly drawing up several maps and marking out several positions.
“This is going to beest most wondrous!” came the most mature reply from Yura.
Her last hope came in the form of Aoi but of course, he stomped all over her dreams of having a normal Star Festival.
“I’m not saying I’m doing this for what happened earlier… I’m doing this for EVERY time he did those things in my face.”
And now we can start on what could have been MC’s torture session as she found herself sighing like Aoi usually did.
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By the time she had returned home from school the next day, she was in no mood to discover the chaos that had been left behind in their wake. She'd had a rough start to her day and it wasn't getting any better. MC had been late for her first class and had missed several portions of her second class due to the demanding need to banish wraiths every ten minutes for the Afternoon Patrol. To cap all of that off, her feet had begun to swell in her shoes after all that running back and forth, with, of course, a detention slip for sneaking out of classes too many times. In short, her day had been hell and, by the time she returned home, all MC wanted was to kick off her shoes and enjoy a cold glass of milk.
So she let herself into the house with a weary grunt, dropped her backpack on the floor and made an immediate beeline for her room to change because, wow, dashing around like a headless chicken was NOT a good look.  As a result, she didn't immediately register anything amiss in the place. It was only after she exited the bedroom, that she realized.
She had not tripped over any mess… the entire day. Not even Nachi’s weird lizard offerings.
Her tension fairly soared off the charts as she was brought up short by stumbling upon the ghastly state of her living room. For once, she was glad her father was far away in another precinct as she swam about the chaotic mess, her mouth hanging open in shock. 
"What the hell happened in here...?" 
It looked as if a clothing-dessert-random-knick-knacks-and-everything bomb had detonated right in the centre. Shirts, shoes and pants were scattered all across the floor with a concentration of biss-cuts, jelly, dried fish and other treats the only things being plated delicately on the tiny tea table but surrounded with barbed wire. Upon opening various dresser drawers, she found paint supplies, several decorative fans and even toolboxes spilling out of them. 
“I have finished… Mission #1.”
Of course, MC did the most natural thing in the world.
“IMMA GONNA CLOBBER YOU!!!”
Her swift strike had only been preemptively blocked by the gentlest grip an intruder could have and she whirled around to confirm her suspicions,
“Ko...ga?”
The dashing gentleman definitely had the confident gait of her boyfriend. But she had never seen such a getup in his closet before. A trim and cut tuxedo, fit with sleek fabric and a smooth collar. The shirt underneath, as pure and white as Shizuki’s snow, was crisp with excellent care. The vest was adorned with designs of complicated swirls, coloured a crimson red, nearly indistinguishable from the eyes barely hidden by a golden mask. A neatly folded tie was the same red, tucked underneath protectively. The entire arrangement was picture perfect, from the flawlessness of the suit's cloth to the shine of spotless dress shoes. 
“... Were we supposed to have a date because I thought you have just finished the patrol around the Asakusa park?”
At his usual hearty chuckle, she found herself considerably relaxing as he casually explained,
“Nope, this was part of their challenge. So while patrolling with Ginnojo, I just first took… whatever Kuya surrounds himself while sleeping since he usually doesn’t care about a particular object and decided it matched the room,”
Koga only paused to hand her an actual calling card of The Phantom ‘Theif’… that was probably created by Masanobu. As if the glitter, scratchy handwriting, bad spelling and random car stickers pasted all over wasn’t evident enough, her beau continued,
“, Then I met Masanobu who was kind enough to make cards with Aoi’s art supplies which I took while I used a lady disguise to distract Oji to distract Aoi who was busy squabbling with Oji.”
“, Then, of course, as we went to Ginnojo’s place after that 5 minute separation period, I swiped out his books with Kuya’s empty ones.”
“Wait, you did all of that in 5 minutes?”
“Yup, and finally, your house, when I knew there was an ice-cream truck outside to distract Yura and Gaku. Except that ice-cream truck was my carriage and that whole line was Masanobu’s friends that helped me out after I won a game of tag while I took their things. The only reason why they’re last is that I wanted to see you after school.” 
Before his smirk and MC’s blush could fully burn her entire face, an infuriated feline stomped into their space, practically spitting out a scroll at Koga’s feet and longingly eying the dried fish before hissing out,
“Well done, Phantom Theif. You have finished your first task, BUT there is one more before you are deemed worthy.” 
“... Nachi… he has seen you as a cat. Also, you’re talking in that voice you use to intimidate a butterfly.”
“AHEM! You… will need to steal… yours and MC’s wishes.”
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“Alright, Kuya’s first.” Koga announced with a sweep of his cape. That grand flourish and declaration earned little more than an eyebrow raised by the Onmyoji.
“Kuya? As in the one who just woke up apparently according to Nachi grumbling earlier?”
All he did was wave her concern away as they continued their pursuit, barely making a sound. 
“He’s probably the one hiding to nap and give orders. And where better than here?”
The place he had taken her turned out to be the Twelve Stories Tower. While the streets were normally crowded, only a scattered few passers-by wandered now and then - perhaps due to the ridiculously late hour. She gazed around the interior column of the brick tower. She certainly didn’t remember the viewing platform being this high up… or maybe it was the fact Koga was somehow strolling along, even skipping. Thank goodness he had reached a hand to help her up the last steps. When the climb was finished, Koga’s theory had proven to be true upon spotting a familiar pair of black wings. 
What was unfamiliar was the detective coat he sported, although MC wondered if he was properly wearing or it had been shoved down his head by a certain seer.
“Geh, this sucks. Whatever, here…” was all Kuya said… before he gave them the biggest smirk MC had ever seen on his usually tired face.
With a flick of his wrist and a snap of a fan, a large twister descended upon the three, carrying the two slips of paper expertly into nimble hands that snatched them away. In a dizzying swirl of water, Ginnojo rode on his tsunami far away from them.
“Great, it’s in the most dangerous detective’s hands…” was all she heard from Koga before he, ever-the-fool, launched himself straight towards the Mizuchi Dragon.  
Somehow, they remained suspended in the air long enough to exchange a few blows so furious that MC would have remained gawking were it not for her senses returning to her, dashing down the stairs… but not before grabbing Kuya’s coat… and covering the tengu who had decided to fall asleep in the middle of it all.
Of course, just as Koga had tugged off the detective’s coat from Ginnojo, the silent warrior had to toss them to the unexpected pair... or was it more accurate to say duet? Either way, Gaku's resounding strike of his drums had enabled his brother to snatch away the papers.
“Prepareth to square! I needeth to avenge mine own fallen dess'rts!”
To MC's surprise, she had caught up with the duelling ayakashi, but only because they stopped to have some exaggerated battle moves she had only witnessed on kabuki nights with Toichiro and Shizuki. It was becoming a tad ridiculous and MC really didn't want to waste her energy chasing them so she took her time. Eventually, Nachi, the very instigator, and Aoi came strolling along, her pet stating the obvious,
"OK... This... Is somehow embarrassing." 
"Yeah? Wonder who suggested this?"  was both Aoi and MC’s reply.
As the time limit was... still not approaching fast enough, somewhere in the midst of the struggle, the papers landed on the road... just as a carriage trotted by. 
It was as if a sudden nuke stopped the war. 
"Um..." 
"Koga, may I suggest thou prostate with a sincere apology at hand?"
"W-what? But I'm not the only one to blame!" 
"W-we'll apologise.. just, after you." 
And then, she snapped.
“All. Of. You. Inside. NOW!”
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So there they were, sitting formally with their backs ramrod straight. MC was honestly just using a cat teaser but to them, it was the whip of discipline as they all waited, as falling into formation. Gently but with the fire still burning in her pink eyes, she prodded each one of them on the shoulders until she reached the twins,
“Now, can anyone tell me why I’m mad? Yura?”
“Is't because I am the oldest h're?”
“Er, technically, I’m just as old as you are, brother.”
“As the oldest, you two should have known better!” “You, Kuya!” “... I should have slept more?”
“Exactly!”
“Aoi! Ginnojo!”
“... We made use of our powers.”
“I mean if you hadn’t lost your wish as well… oops…”
“Why, Nachi, why? It’s all your fault anyway!”
“I just wanted to enjoy my afternoon, dusk and midnight nap.”
Once again, the blame game was being played and MC slammed her bell wand against the table.
“SHUT IT! It’s all of your faults and everyone has to take responsibility! Didn’t anyone teach you not to mess with dreams, of all things?”
And then the lecture continued, with her even bringing over a chalkboard and placing the dunce cap on the stoic Ginnojo. By the time she had gotten to her 23rd point, there was a still lot more she wanted to say but allowed Koga to signal to the others,
“We all know what to do, men.”
Together, they all bowed,
“FORGIVE US!”
Rolling her eyes but finally smiling, she nodded… before abruptly producing two very, very familiar tanzaku.
“So… here are our wishes, Koga.”
As she gently patted them into a starstruck oni’s shaking hands and was leaving the others to gape like fishes, her last words were,
“Please boys, you could be the Phantom Theif or detectives with some cool cloaks but I’m a refined lady who wisely wished to win. Y’all were doomed from the start when the only thing really stolen was her heart.”
It was at that moment Koga knew: He had to steal a wedding ring.
Epilogue
He didn’t. But he did buy one.
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wolfenwingsshop · 6 years ago
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I will always yell at the bird to eat his cookies.
So, here we go, fam. This is gonna be a long one.
So, Christmas Eve evening, just this past year. We had exchanged gifts already, my family had gotten me some socks (including some Mega Man ones with X on them!!) and Nova and Poi had secretly downloaded Breath of the Wild to our Switch while we slept that night before! I was watching the husband finish up his first tour in Smash Ultimate's "World of Light" campaign and was finishing up our family batch of Christmas Cookies.
I had a few snowmen left, so I decided to make a snow X. Then a snow Zero. And finally a snow Axl. I also made a few stars into Starmen. Why not, right? I posted my cookies to my Twitter with the tags of #Christmas, #MegaManX, etc. They didn't look too wonderful, Zero put in a bit too much milk when he helped me out to make the frosting. ^^;
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Then Protodude retweeted it, as well as the MM Network's twitter, unbeknownst to myself at the time. My husband, Zero, had just finally found X and Zero's souls at the end of WoL, and just had rescued X when my phone started buzzing like mad. It had just struck midnight, Christmas morning. I figured it was probably some of my netfriends wishing me a happy holiday, and I'd get to them in a bit when I was done with the cookies and my fingers weren't covered in frosting.
My phone starts going off even more. Like, to where if I didn't know better, I'd say there's an emergency. Finally, I pick up my phone to a swamp of retweets and likes. Sooo many people. I start spazzing, natch.. and then I notice a "sonicmega" aka Sean Chiplock aka fucking Revali in the goddamned game I just got for Christmas today fucking Christ I KNEW HE WAS A MEGA MAN FAN BUT WHAT WHY IS HE LIKING MY CRAPPY COOKIES THEY LITERALLY LOOK LIKE WHITE TURDS ---
So noticing the fuggin voice actor that has happened across my cookies, I thanked him for even acknowledging my crappy work.
I'll let the next image explain itself.
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OK SO TO SAY THE LEAST I WAS FLOORED. HE WANTS MY CRAPPY COOKIES. ARE YOU KIDDING ME.
Ok, ok, so I responded that I would, as soon as Christmas was over. ..and MagFest, kinda forgot MagFest.
Zero got laid off less than an hour onto his first day back from his vacation to MagFest. I mean, we were planning on having him look for a new job, come spring, considering how crappily paid he was compared to similar engineering jobs in the area, but now we at least had more free time to make cookies!
So as soon as that was over, I was chomping at the bit to Zero. "Hon. We need butter and milk so I can make Mr. Chiplock's cookies!!!" "Right, right..." and off Zee would toddle back into Wal-Mart or Aldi or whatever to get the required item. (I have a bad back and a bad knee that loves to flare up this time of year thanks to the cold, and my husband is the least broken of the two of us.)
Regardless, that weekend after MagFest we got to work and made the batter. Zero cut nothing but snowmen and a few stars and cooked them, the next night I went and made the frosting. We set aside the required colors to make more X, Zero, and Axl snowmen. We made a few starmen too.
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So these guys came out a lot better! After they were done, I included a picture to Mr. Chiplock via PM.
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Lol, yeah he liked 'em.
I froze them until Zee and I were ready to send. (I wanted to wait until Zee started getting his Unemployment checks. I also wanted to do a picture and include the recipe so Mr. Chiplock can make his own if he wanted to.) I forgot to take a picture of the finished art but here's the WIP:
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Anyhoooo.. I just sent them off today. Here's hoping they make it over there okay! (N.Y. to Cali... whew!)
He's a Mega Man fan. He's one of US.
We Mega Man fans gotta stick together.
163 notes · View notes
plasticparker · 6 years ago
Text
even in the dark I see your lights somehow
WHAT UP BITCHES this is some really pointless angst. will my plot (term used very loosely for this drabble) be deemed incorrect when a4 comes out? ya forsure. do i care? no. 
AU in which the reader survives Thanos ~snap~ and Peter doesnt (aka 2 years later, Peter comes back, angsty reunions)
word count: 3.7k 
Two years ago, Thanos snapped his fingers and ended the world. 
Or, technically, killed half of it. 
10 months ago, the remaining Avengers dragged themselves back together at the arrival of Tony Stark and Captain Marvel. 
6 months ago the world found a new normal. With half the world gone, most businesses, government offices, and schools closed. The few that were left were sparsely populated, but functioning. Everything was consolidated. The orphanages were stocked full of homeless children in the beginning, but luckily, parents who lost their own children by Thanos’ hand had taken to them, and families grew by double every day. People stepped up because they had no choice, and it had worked. Things weren’t the same, and they never would be. But you were alive, you were going to college in the fall, you had a place to stay. 
It was bad for a long time. No one really knew what had happened at first, even after Steve Rogers face was broadcast on every TV and he explained that half the world-half the universe-was dead. 
When Tony Stark made it back to Earth, though he was only here for a few days at most before joining the rest of his team in search of Thanos, he came right to May’s door. He found you and May in the wreckage of her apartment building and had Happy set you up in a small house outside of the city. Close to Avengers headquarters. To keep an eye on you, he’d said. To alleviate some of his guilt, you knew. 
You tucked the phone between your shoulder and ear, shouldering the door open and carefully setting the box down on the table. It was labeled Stark Industries, as were most of the packages you found on you and May’s doorstep were these days. 
“Pretty sure Tony sent us something else,” you said into the phone, inspecting the box. 
You could practically hear May rolling her eyes. 
“Seriously? What is it this time?”
“Not sure. Let you know when I find out.”
“Hopefully it's a new microwave,” She said. You laughed; the microwave had ended up on fire a few nights before in one of May’s attempts to make mug cookies. She had an oven, and you’d been wondering aloud why she wouldn't just make real cookies when you heard the sparks and the microwave started to smoke. 
All of Tony’s gifts, sent through Happy, inevitably, were thinly veiled excuses to try and make up for what happened on Titan. Tony Stark blamed himself for the whole thing, but mostly Peter’s death/disintegration/whatever people were calling it those days. You still don’t know exactly what went down on that planet, but you know enough. You know enough to know it wasn’t Tony’s fault. And though you didn’t share the sentiment, you know it made him feel just a little bit better to take care of Peter’s aunt and his…you. 
Hence, the tech and appliances and other things that are supposed to make your lives easier. But really, the only thing that would make your lives easier would be Peter, and that wasn’t something Tony could buy. 
“Cross your fingers,” you said. You pulled a knife out of the block on the counter and popped the box open. Prying it open, your gaze landed on a swatch of red and blue fabric. Your hand stilled and the knife clattered onto the table. 
“I’ll call you back, May. Am I cooking tonight?” You said, hoping your voice came out even. 
May laughed on the other end, luckily not picking up on your tone. 
“Funny. I’ll get takeout on my way.” She hung up, and you let out a shaky breath.
You stepped back from the box so you couldn’t see the contents. 
Peter’s suit. Not the Iron Spider Tony had created for him: that suit died with him. But the first real suit he had. When he moved away from bright blue sweatpants and a hoodie to the smooth patterned material that solidified his status as a hero. The suit he’d been wearing when you found him, bloody and near death on your balcony. 
“No-no-hospital,” the boy pleaded. His words were slurred through the mask, and though you tried to pull it over his face, he refused to let go. 
“Whoever you are, I swear, I won't tell. If you bleed out on this fire escape, I’ll figure it out anyways. Now let go,” you said, not an inch of room for him to argue. The boy let out a sigh and leaned back against the brick, peeling the mask off.  
Peter Parker. 
You took a breath. Went back to the table. Carefully pulled the material out of the box. 
Beneath it was a note. 
It belongs to the people who loved him the most. - T
You closed your eyes and brought the fabric up to your nose, inhaling. It smelled a little bit like smoke, a little bit like sweat, a lot like Peter. So much like Peter you nearly doubled over at the pang of longing that shot through you. The scent brought on an array of memories, all painful and all full of Peter. 
You were starting to understand that you would never get over Peter Parker. You’d never get closure, you’d never get to say goodbye. The same could be said for every single person that had disintegrated, for every single person you’d lost when Thanos snapped his fingers, but something about Peter kept the wound of losing him open and raw. It was like having a cold; you could breathe well enough, but you felt it with every inhale. 
-
We’ve got him. 
That was all the text said when it woke you at midnight. It was the one you’d been waiting for since Tony made it back to earth and promised that Peter would, they all would, too. You didn’t believe him then, and you still didn’t, not as you ran out to your car, not as you drove the short distance to headquarters, not even as you sprinted up the stairs leading to the top floor of the building. 
You’d only been three times since Thanos, after Tony came back and reached out to May and you. But then, it was only to get some things of Peter’s Tony had that May wouldn’t come to get, as she hadn’t spoken a word to Tony since the minute he told her what happened. 
“We have an elevator, you know,” Tony said as you pushed through the doors and into the room. You knew then that it had worked; avengers who’d been missing for two years, sitting around the room. All exhausted, some in varying states of injury, being tended to. But no Peter. 
“Too slow. Where is he?” 
As if on cue, a door across the room swung open and Peter stepped out, digging his hands into the pockets of a black hoodie that was a few sizes too big. You were struck with how young he looked; somehow, you’d forgotten that while time had passed for you, it hadn’t for him, or any of them. They’d ceased to exist, and when Thanos had been sacrificed, it was like a trading of souls, Thanos and all the lives he’d taken for the ones lost on earth. At least, that was how Tony had explained it. The SparkNotes version. 
Your breath caught. He met your gaze, and for a moment, just a moment, he didn’t recognize you. You had gotten older, after all. Changed your hair. Lost everyone you’d ever loved. Little things like that. 
And even though you’d spent two years imaging this moment, dreaming of it, practically tasting it, now that he was here, in front of you, it was wrong. You were wrong. 
You backed up, scrabbling for the door handle behind you. You just had to get out. 
“I-I have to go,” you said, before turning and slipping out and into the hall. Then you were running, heading for the staircase you’d come up. The door slammed behind you and Peter called your name. Something snapped around your wrist, tugging you back. Two years ago, it might have made you laugh. Now, the minute Peter caught you by the shoulders you yanked the web off your wrist and jerked away, stumbling. You caught your balance on the wall, meeting Peter’s gaze. 
The hurt on his face was impossible to miss. Shame coiled in your stomach, hot and sharp. 
“What’s going on? Are you alright? Your hair-“
“I’ll explain later. We should get home, Peter. May’s waiting,” you interrupted. You’d called her frantically on the drive, telling her to come home the second her night shift ended. If you were lucky, she’d be waiting, and you could put off this conversation for a little while longer. Even better, May could give him the bad news: he’d missed two years, and he wouldn’t get them back. 
The words caught his attention and pulled it away from the very subject you wanted to avoid. 
“May? God, she’s going to kill me. I didn’t even tell her I was leaving. I don’t even know how long I was gone.” 
“You didn’t tell anyone,” you said darkly, turning and walking away to avoid seeing your words hit him. 
“I didn’t have a choice. I had to go after Thanos-“ he caught up to you as you reached the bottom of the staircase and pushed out the doors into the darkness.  
“You didn’t have to do anything.” 
He touched your arm and you looked at him instinctively, before you could stop yourself. God, he looked young. 
“What are saying? Of course, I did.” 
Nights spent curled in May’s arms, tears staining your cheeks, flickered behind your eyes. You wondered if they’d have happened if Peter hadn’t climbed out the window of that bus, all that time ago. 
You kept walking. Peter jogged to catch up. When you got to the car, Peter almost walked right past it. It wasn’t the one you’d had back then. So many things were different; maybe too many. 
“When did you get a new car?”
“It’s from Happy. Shittiest model we could convince them to give us,” you said. He tried to ask questions all the way back to the city. But each time you told him later, or I don’t know, or could you please be quiet my head hurts, which all really meant, please stop talking or ill cry. And he saw through it, because he was Peter, but he didn’t push it, also because he was Peter. He’d been through a lot in the last day. No one had had the time to sit down and explain all this to him. To any of the returned Avengers. The world was too busy scrambling around the reappearance of 3.5 billion people. 
And when you got back to the apartment, you were able to slip off as he and May reunited. You went out under the guise of running errands and stayed out well past dark, well past the time May texted to tell you goodnight, your cue to come back. By the time you reached the apartment, both their doors were shut, and you dropped onto the couch, drifting off to the sounds of the city out the window. 
-
The nightmare ripped you from sleep and you jerked to a sitting position, gasping for air. The apartment was dark around you, thick and heavy with the night. A glance at your phone told you it was nearly 4 AM.
Your gaze strayed to Peter’s closed door. You’d overtaken the room a long time ago when you’d unofficially moved in, but had quickly cleared your things away while May and Peter reunited before escaping the apartment. 
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you pulled the blanket off your legs and climbed to your feet. You made your way to Peter’s door, stopping in front of it. You took a breath before turning the knob. You stepped into the moonlit room-Peter’s window was wide open-and your gaze landed on the sleeping boy in the bed. His eyes snapped open when you pushed the door shut. He sat up and you stopped, like a deer in headlights.
He looked the same as the day you’d lost him. He’d just turned 18 when Thanos came to Earth; he hadn’t even gotten to graduate. Not that you technically had, either. School didn’t come back into session in New York City until 5 months ago, when you’d gone back to a school with a quarter of the people and walked the halls of a ghost town for three months. There had been no ceremony; there were too few names and too few parents. You’d been given a diploma.
The few colleges that remained open had open enrollment so you’d signed up for classes beginning in November.
You just turned 20. The few months you had on Peter turned into years. Years. Two of them. Spent mourning with May; mourning your family, most of your friends, and of course, Peter. Always Peter. 
It was almost worse, the disappearing. With your family, dying in the initial attack on the city, there was nothing to hope for. But the people that disappeared left ashes behind, and with them, hope that no one could manage to sweep off the streets. 
Somehow, he was still your Peter. Hair mussed up and a bit too long, lips pulled into an ever-present line, heart pulsing on his sleeve. The one you saw in your dreams, the one that hadn’t been broken or lost. It didn’t seem possible that he was standing there, whole. 
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just wanted-I was checking.” Checking to see if you’re still there. He scanned your face, still a little drowsy with sleep.
“You’re older.” He said, something incredibly sad bleeding into his voice.
Your brows pulled together, heart twinging.
“Two years will do that,” you said. The reality was, it took time for the surviving Avengers to scrabble some semblance of a team together. It took time to figure out how to bring everyone back and maintain the timeline and kill Thanos all at once. 
You wished you could say it had been minutes or hours or days. You wished you could say it had been quick and painless.
But it hadn’t been. Peter’s disappearance had ripped you to pieces. Your family’s deaths had ripped you to pieces. You’d mourned them and missed them and moved on, and your family would never be coming back, but Peter was here, and you didn’t know what to do with that or how to feel about it. You wanted to close the distance between you and climb into bed and wrap him in your arms and hold him to make up for two years of hurting.
But you didn’t know if you still had the right to. Though no time had passed for Peter, time had passed for you. You were different. Would Peter want the You you were now?
“I’m not the same. It was bad for a while. I had to be a bad person. I might still be a bad person,” you said.
Peter shook his head.
“That’s not true.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you.”
“Peter.”
“You found a bleeding vigilante on your balcony, stitched me up, and didn’t ask any questions. You saved my life. A good person wouldn’t do that. Nothing that happened in the last two years changes that.”
“You don’t understand.” 
“Then make me understand.”
You let out a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. Pressure was building behind your skull, pounding its fists and making your headache. You couldn’t explain the time he’d missed.  
You reached back for the doorknob, a beat away from turning to leave when Peter said, “Wait.” It came out a little frantic, a little panicked. You clenched your teeth.
“This was a bad idea. I’m sorry.” You said.
“Wait,” he said again. You blinked and he was off the bed, another blink and he was in front of you.
“Did I do something? Because I’m sorry if-“
“What?”
“I said, I’m sorry if-”
“You didn’t do anything. This-none of this is your fault.” 
Peter looked miserable, shaking his head.
“Just talk to me. Please,” he said quietly.
Your lips parted. A flood was swelling behind your teeth, and you knew you should just let it out, tell him why you’d been pushing him away, why you were the way you were now.
“Do you remember when I used to sneak up the fire escape? And sneak out before May woke up?” You asked softly. Peter’s lips pulled thin, something sad in his eyes.
He didn’t deserve all this. He didn’t deserve the wall you’d put up against him. For him, the time had passed in a blink. But there were so many skeletons in your closet, pushing their fingers through the cracks. Peter had been through enough. And maybe you were too broken now.
“Of course. You had to hide under the bed one time,” he said. You resisted the urge to smile. Memory lane was not the road you should be taking.
“She always knew. But she let me keep doing it because she knew we weren’t doing anything. She didn’t know that I was usually tending your wounds.” 
“We were spooning at most.” 
You laughed, and it unlocked something in your chest. 
“I used to spend hours watching videos and looking at pictures. It was all I had left of anyone. It was all I had left of you,” you said. 
“I didn’t even know May was alive. I came-I came to your apartment because I was alone and hungry and I knew May had that disposable camera with the pictures from Prom and I just-“ you slammed to a stop, shutting your mouth. 
“You were gone a long time. Everyone-everyone was gone. My parents were dead. I was on my own for months. The things I did to survive-“
You clamped your mouth shut. Peter frowned, waiting for you to finish.
“I’m not the person I was. The person you knew. The person you lo-“ you stopped before the word loved slipped out. You hadn’t used it in a long time.  
“I know who you are. Okay? I’ve always known,” Peter said. You bit your lip. You wanted to argue with him, to tell him about the people you’d let starve so you could eat, the things you stole from people who surely died after. But you didn’t want him to look at you the way he would inevitably look at you. You wanted more time.
He was standing there, exactly the same as the day you lost him. But you’d watched your bridges burn and then you burned what was left, because you had to, because that was what became of the world.
It wasn’t fair to him. It wasn’t fair to you. None of this was fair to anyone.
“You look different. So does May. There’s this gap of time that I can’t see or fill or fix,“ his brows furrow, confusion dotting his features.
“I’m so sorry for leaving you. I’m sorry for everything that happened and everything you had to do because I was gone.”
Your heart broke in half.
“You wouldn’t be you if you hadn’t gone,” you said, softening. 
You stepped closer, reaching up to cup his face with a hand. He leaned into your touch with a sad, boyish smile that made your chest ache.
You let your hand drop to the place where the fabric of his shirt fell down over his collarbone, fingers brushing against his skin. He stilled beneath your touch.
You let out the breath you’d been holding since the day Thanos snapped his finger.
Peter placed his hand on top of yours, gripping your fingers with fierce intensity. It was like he could feel the last two years on your skin. He could feel the nights you’d woken screaming his name, May running to console you, holding your shaking body still, telling you over and over that Peter isn’t here, she’s so sorry, Peter isn’t here.
“I don’t care about anything you did. I don’t care about any of it. You’re here, you’re alive, and that's all that matters. May said-she told me what it was like. How many people died. So, whatever you had to do to stay alive, I don’t care. It’s better than the alternative,” he said. 
You closed your eyes. 
“I think maybe we were the lucky ones.” 
Opened them. 
“We got to escape all that. For a while.” 
“Nice little vacation.” 
He snorted. The familiar pieces fell back into place, just a few of them. He bent his head down to your shoulder, breath warming your skin through the fabric of your shirt. His nose skimmed up your throat, along your jaw, stopping at your ear. 
He whispered, “Stay.” 
You said yes, even though you probably shouldn’t have, even though it was probably stupid, even though there were so many things to deal with and talk about. But right then, you just wanted to go back. Back to a world where every bridge was still intact and every stone was rightly turned. Just for a little while. 
And so you both curled beneath the covers, tucked together under a swath of darkness, limbs tangled together. Just like it was. Just like it could be, again.
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flapperfromthefuture · 5 years ago
Text
I’ve been experimenting with a couple of new ways to beat the winter blues—baking with such frenzy that I have to buy the 18 egg cartons and the person at the register asks me, “Big weekend plans?” every. single. time, and expanding my horizons with such gusto that I nearly got dropkicked by a jazz enthusiast.
Let me explain.
After watching a beautiful tombstone-grey sunset at 3:30 one October afternoon, I had the urge to bake because “You can’t stick your head in the oven if there’s other stuff in there.”
So I have been baking. Like, obsessively.
I’ve even gotten fancy. I made a povitica, the Aaron Burr of breads, with raspberry and then apricot jam (very sticky, but tasty). Then I wanted to try a savory challah, so I experimented with adding different amounts of cardamom and THEN za’atar.
I tried making challah with harissa because it seemed like a good idea at the time. It was super messy working the harissa into the dough and then braiding it before the whole loaf could fall apart, but the end result was delicious and made my kitchen smell like a spice market in the midst of somewhere warm that is not Michigan.
I made two Bienenstich, or bee sting cakes, which I hadn’t attempted since my brioche class. I managed not to overdo the topping this time! No almond-induced structural collapses here.
Then I made this gigantic cinnamon roll, which the recipe claimed was an Estonian Kringla, and since the best cinnamon roll I’ve ever had was in Estonia, I tried it out. And it was pretty good, but didn’t quite get me to pre-winter euphoria levels, aka enough energy to stay awake past mid-afternoon because it’s so dark outside.
My sister really wanted to make Halloween desserts together, which translated into me buying all the supplies and then baking everything myself while she lay on the floor.
She had just run a half-marathon . . . five days earlier.
I don’t like making Rice Krispie treats as they are a tactile nightmare. Everything you touch sticks to you forever and then continues to stick to you even after you die. I also gravely miscalculated how many marshmallows to buy (because weight and volume are different, apparently? School never covered that) and my mom will not let me live it down—anyone who stops by the house is asked, “Do you want something to drink? Or maybe some marshmallows? Elizabeth bought a thousand.”
Stella likes to say, “God knew you’d be too powerful if you were good at math.”
I don’t enjoy cooking as much as baking, but I made my yearly stab at sides for Thanksgiving. These harissa sweet potatoes looked beautiful but were a little too spicy for my weak-ass family.
(I also may have put in too much harissa. But it’s expensive and I wanted to use it all!).
A and I are officially in the throes of cabin fever, and when our beloved Midnight Madness rolled around, she decided that we needed to mix things up and elected to check out a jazz club downtown that we had never visited. Our friend Julia was with us and her mom was in town from the East Coast, so A thought we’d show them a sophisticated time . . . after visiting the holiday petting zoo, of course, and making a quick stop in the Himalayan Bazaar to see if the Yeti was around—he was not, because he never is, BUT I WILL SEE HIM NEXT YEAR SO HELP ME. 
Stella did not join us for Midnight Madness, electing instead to stay in and watch The Crown, which in hindsight, was too much of a gamble to take without supervision.
We swept into the jazz club with our heavy coats and dorky beanies and I immediately felt way too square to chill with the jazz cats. Everyone had sleek scarves and trendy eyewear and even the gorgeous modern light fixtures seemed to judge us as we sat at our table.
There was a lady wearing sunglasses inside. At night. In winter.
It was below freezing out. I thought, “Is this an awards show?”
I had only eaten roasted almonds and hot chocolate for dinner so I needed something revitalizing . . . or barring that, mozzarella sticks.
This jazz club did not have mozzarella sticks. Mozzarella sticks aren’t cool. They had charcuterie plates, pate, foie gras PB&J (why?), and charred baby octopus (WHY?), and everything was super expensive, but there was a jazz quintet onstage that seemed really legit, so I was excited to get some culture, even at the expense of mozzarella sticks.
A stared down at the menu like she could intimidate it into submission. She will eat anything, but draws the line at baby animals that have been set on fire.
“I don’t know what to get,” she said. “This never happens to me.”
“What are you guys ordering?” I asked Julia and her mom.
And then, out of nowhere, SLAM, a hand smacked our table loud enough to make me jump. An older man glared at me and said, “I’m not paying to hear you talk.”
He looked a lot like Santa, which made it even more distressing. I don’t want to get in trouble with Santa!
A is from Chicago and doesn’t take anyone’s shit (which is good for me, because to quote John Mulaney, “You could pour soup into my lap and I’d apologize to you“), so she looked Santa right in the eye and said, very calmly, “You don’t need to take that tone. We’ve never been here before and we’re trying to figure out what to order.”
Santa scowled and said, “Just be quiet.” Like we were children, which we are not. We patronize jazz clubs!
Just so we’re clear, A was the most well-behaved child who ever childed and practically showed up to preschool with a briefcase. No one has ever told her, “Just be quiet.” And I was so hyperfocused on craft kits and Legos that no one ever told me that either. In fact, adults scolded me to be less quiet because “You’re like a little ninja.”
“That wasn’t very Midwestern,” said Julia. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Mom. People in Ann Arbor are usually very chill.”
“He’s probably a boomer,” said Julia’s mom, who is a boomer herself, and incredibly cool.
We ordered our drinks and tried to enjoy the jazz.
Here’s the thing about jazz. People think they enjoy it, because music, right? Who doesn’t like music? Everyone loved La La Land, and there was jazz in that, right?
But what you don’t know about jazz, until you’re trapped in a jazz club with incinerated child octopi and furious boomers, is that the average jazz song is about fifteen minutes long. There’s the normal part, that sounds like a song and tells a story you can follow and enjoy, and then the improv starts. Every musician starts playing scales or hitting the drums in a way that should be exciting but really isn’t, and should build to something musically but really doesn’t, and then when they’re done the audience claps and the next person does the same thing, but it’s like listening to several minutes of joke set-ups with no punchlines. Over and over, until they just stop and then the next song starts.
“Are they going to do this for every song?” I thought about saying, but then did not, because I didn’t want to anger the man.
Instead, I checked my phone for a quick primer on jazz appreciation.
I still hadn’t eaten anything and A had declared that we wouldn’t be ordering any food so we could leave sooner . . . but not soon enough.
Other people were chatting and eating and enjoying the music, but I wasn’t doing any of those things.
A was glaring daggers into the back of Santa’s head.
Julia and her mom weren’t super into it either, to the point that Julia claimed that if she rushed the stage and pretended to be the next act by riffing on a triangle, no one would question it. Her mom was supportive of this, so it was time to go.
We said good-bye outside, relieved at finally being allowed to speak freely.
“That drum solo went on FOREVER,” said Julia.
“I thought the cymbal crash meant it was over but it just kept going!” said A.
“I really liked La La Land an hour ago and now I hate it,” I said.
So my journey to find something that will beat seasonal affective disorder back to whence it came continues. Will I go complicated and attempt to make my first panettone, which can take 24 HOURS to bake?
Or keep it simple and just get some mozzarella sticks?
          Baking vs. Jazz: Holiday Showdown I’ve been experimenting with a couple of new ways to beat the winter blues—baking with such frenzy that I have to buy the 18 egg cartons and the person at the register asks me, "Big weekend plans?" every.
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abalonetea · 6 years ago
Note
Ahem: For the OTP asks, any and all questions for whatever ship needs some extra love this fine day (aka whomever you haven't gotten to talk about enough). And for that last one, let's go with, What is one spoiler about this couple that makes no sense out of context? Just, throw me a random fact that you like that sounds like nonsense.
hello yes but i love you and i love this ask!!!
honestly, you always come up with the best asks! there’s just so much in them, it’s great. and this was so much fun to write up!
Part One! i’m sorry in advance that this is so long but! you said any and all questions so! i just went ahead and did all of the questions i haven’t had a chance to do yet! i hope that’s okay!!!
i actually got roughly the same amount of asks in for everyone, so??? i’m just alternating between my two favorites which are, predictably, the two main pairings!
What was their first impression of each other?    wow that kid is scrawny thought Red, ducking into the small alley between buildings.   at the other end of the alley, Bolte picked up a large rock and thought that kid looks like he could eat me shit   
What is their ship name?   dgksdfsd ship names are both my favorite thing and the bane of my existence so! probably it would either be blocke, Blue Knight, Science Sweets, or cocoashipping depending on your preference. blue knight orcocoashipping are probably my favorites though!
Describe their relationship dynamic.   is they would die for each other a good enough response? there is literally nothing that Bolte and Red wouldn’t do for each other, from taking dangerous hits in a battle to becoming something cruel in the name of safety.   each one just tries so hard to keep the other safe and happy, it’s this loop they’re stuck in where they put themselves last out of necessity. Bolte can come across as very mean but Red is also pretty sarcastic, and they just. try so damned hard! Bolte makes the calls on the surface, but it’s really Red that has the final say in pretty much everything.
What was their relationship like before they got together?   they were absolutely the best of friends! Locke and Blue had already been living together for a while before they started dating, and it was just one of those things that rolled from one title into the next.  
How would they describe each other?   he’s the coolest person i’ve ever met, Red would say. boss is the best. strongest guy i’ve ever met.   too kind for his own good, Bolte would say. Red is what everyone should strive to be. he’s stronger than anyone else i’ve ever met.
What do they love about each other?   Locke loves Blue’s sense of humor, and how smart he is, and the way his eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles.   Blue loves Locke’s optimism, and how much effort he puts into everything he does, and the sound of his laugh when he finds something really funny.
What do they have in common?   Red and Bolte are both incredibly stubborn, fairly lodged in the self sacrificing category, dealing with health issues, have the world’s most horrible sense of humor, the same taste in food, a love for animals, and the deep buried interest in being a good person. 
What are some differences between them?   Red prefers not to fight if given the chance, Bolte is actually decent at cooking, there’s still a belief on Bolte’s end that Fara Falls can be returned to some semblance of a decent place, Red is more eager to trust and give second chances.
Do they get married? Who proposes and how?   nnnn probably not, but only because i can’t picture that as being something either of them would think about. that being said wouldnt that be a fancy fix-it au drabble to write?
Who dies first? How does the other one react?   hey! you know the great thing about time loops? both of them “die first” within the confines of the story! fun! i know this answer very well!   to be very blunt, Red gets extremely drunk and, during Fara Falls time, generally kills himself to “speed up the reset” unless Captain happens to find him first, at which point he generally moves in with her. his death doesn’t actually affect the speed of the time loop starting over but, obviously, it means he doesn’t have to be around for it. this decision is spurred on only because Red is aware of the time loops and has done some amount of research and testing on them in the past.   i’ve said in text posts that Bolte would burn the world if something happened to Red, and I mean this in a very literal sense. during the occasion when someone kills Red, be it Kee or a character within Fara Falls, destroying said person becomes Bolte’s driving force. frequently, he has Captain right there watching his back.  but not in Fields of Fara, no, in Fields of Fara he has Blue at his back, and that world will burn, too
Are there any love rivals?   not really! 
Describe your favorite moment of that ship!   dfjv sdjfvdsbsf all of them!!! they’re all my favorites! i love the soft moments, when Bolte pulls Red into the rare hug, when Locke runs his fingers through Blue’s hair. i love the serious ones, where Red willingly follows Bolte back into Hell because where one goes, the other follows, and the thought of Locke sitting up at night waiting for Blue to come home, of him taking on Midnight’s interest to pull it off of Blue.   I love how much they love each other.
Describe or write a really fluffy scene!   red sits down on the back porch, mug of cocoa in hand, and the borrowed sweatshirt looks good on him. it’s bright in a way that matches his eyes, mostly revealed by the mask that’s pushed onto the side of his face, early morning sunlight catching on strips of old scars, on sharp teeth starting to go nubby.   there are many horned deer grazing in the distance, long tongues wrapping around the puff flowers pushing out through the snow, the sugar weed. bolte wraps an arm around red’s shoulders, tugging him up against his side, and the look that the paladin shoots him is nothing short of surprised, brows lifting in a silent question.   bolte doesn’t know what sort of answer to give, though, so he stays silent too, just sits there and relishes in the fact that this is okay and the fact that they are more safe here than they’ve ever been.
Describe or write a really angsty scene!   the corner’s of Locke’s mouth twitch into something that isn’t quite a smile, breath stifled out beneath his own good intent, hands shaking as he runs them through his loose, unkempt hair. “it’s okay,” he swears. “it’s okay, it’s - it’s okay.”   but the check hangs between them like an omission, a hymn, and blue has a look on his face like maybe nothing is ever going to be okay again. “locke?”   “i swear,” says locke, and that’s not desperation in his voice but it might be something a little closer to hysteria, too high pitched to be anything close to level, to calm. “it’s okay.”   they both know it’s not.   it hasn’t been for a really really long time.
Talk about a headcanon you’ve never talked about before.   oooh, difficult, but fun!    for locke and blue - Blue has nightmares a lot, and it’s part of why he and Locke have been sharing a bed for a while; Locke’s Good Intent helps keep them away, and it helps to have someone around when he does have one.   for bolte and red - whenever Bolte is having a really bad day, Red will rub his hands or his knee or whatever’s acting up for him.
What does a typical date look like for them?   red and bolte have never been on a date before, oops, and the concept is actually very foreign to them. it’s likely never something they do in a traditional sense.   locke really likes going places and even though that’s not really blue’s thing, sometimes he’ll surprise locke by splinching them out to the Capitol for a nice meal somewhere! usually they just eat at the house and play cards and listen to music.   sometimes locke convinces blue to dance with him oops
What’s a really significant moment in their relationship?   the first moment that Bolte realizes, so long as they’re in Fields of Fara, he can actually have some semblance of a relationship with Red, that he realizes he can lean over and kiss Red and not worry about someone finding out and use it as leverage against him. and he does. he catches Red by the shoulder and kisses him and you could honestly knock Red over with a feather.   for Blue and Locke, it’s probably shortly after Blue realizes that, hey, they are dating and suddenly a lot of the things Locke has been saying and doing makes more sense. Locke looks at Blue from the other side of the couch and says, “you’re so cute in that” and Blue’s whole face turns bright red and he thinks, oh i really like this.
Part Two!
What is one spoiler about this couple that makes no sense out of context? Just, throw me a random fact that you like that sounds like nonsense.
Red and Bolte: bolte wears red’s mask
Locke and Blue: blue tells locke to quit smiling
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weekendwarriorblog · 4 years ago
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The Weekend Warrior 3/19/21: SXSW, Zack Snyder’s Justice League,The Courier, City of Lies, Happily and More!
Remember a couple weeks back when I stated the plan was to bring back the Weekend Warrior as a regular weekly series again? Yeah, well if you looked for a column last week and wondered what happened, I just didn’t have time to write one. And I also just haven’t been able to get back on the ball in terms of writing reviews. It just takes a lot of time to watch all the movies let alone review them the way I did last year. I honestly have no idea how I did it last year, but things have been busier than ever at Below the Line, which does throw a bit of a spanner into any extracurricular plans.
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The big event this week is the annual SXSW Film Festival, which I’ll be taking part in virtually, and somewhat tangentially, watching as much as I can while still doing other things. It’s been a while since I’ve attended SXSW in person, but it tends to have great docs, especially music docs. In fact, this year’s Opening Night Film is the documentary, Demi Lovato: Dancing with the Devil, about Demi Lovato’s drug overdose from 2018 and its aftermath. Other music docs of interest include Poly Styrene: I Am A Cliché, about the late frontwoman from early punk band X-Ray Spex through the eyes of her daughter; Mary Wharton’s doc Tom Petty, Somewhere You Feel Free made from archival footage of the late singer making his 1994 record “Wildflowers”; Alone Together about Charlie XCX’s pandemic record; Under the Volcano about George Martin’s AIR Studios Montserrat; and it gives another chance to see Edgar Wright’s excellent, The Sparks Brothers, which was picked up by Focus Features after Sundance. There’s also an amazing doc about Selma Blair’s fight with MS, Introducing, Selma Blair, which is equal parts heartbreaking and inspirational.
SXSW also has pretty solid Midnighters, and there’s a number of those I’m also looking forward to, including Travis Stevens’ Jakob’s Wife, starring horror legends Larry Fassenden and Barbara Crampton, who were so great in my buddy Ted Geoghegan’s We Are Still Here. (No coincidence since Stevens produced that movie.) And I hope to watch a few others like Lee Haven Jones’ The Feast, Jacob Gentry’s Broadcast Signal Intrusion, and Alex Noyer’s Sound of Violence. We’ll see how much I get to see this week, cause it’s a lot of movies over only a couple days, basically from Tuesday through Saturday.
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Closer to home at the Metrograph, the still-closed movie theater is doing a virtual series called “Bill Murray X6” which has already shown Lost in Translation and What about Bob? With Rushmore screening until Thursday, and then The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou available through Friday. Become a digital member for just $5 a month! This past weekend I saw a really amazing 7-part doc series called Untitled Pizza Movie by David Shapiro. In fact, I stayed up late on Sunday to watch the whole thing since it was leaving the digital screeners, but it’s a very entertaining, intriguing and personal story about the director, his friend and partner in crime Leeds, who he went around to different NYC pizza shops in the ‘90s trying to find the perfect slice, and then they come across pizzaman Andrew Belluci at the world-famous Lombardi’s in Soho. The project that took over 20 years to make follows what happened to the three men, but mainly Leeds and Belluci as they have ups and downs that ultimately leads to Belluci starting his own pizza joint in Queens. Everything that happens in between is quite fascinating.
I saw a couple other movies this past weekend including Robin Wright’s Land, which I quite enjoyed, and the rom-com Long Weekend, which came out last Friday but I totally missed. Land is a pretty amazing directorial debut that’s mostly a one-woman show with her character alone in the wilderness until she runs into trouble and meets Demian Bichir’s kindly Samaritan and they become friends. Directed by Stephen Basilone, Long Weekend stars Finn Wittrock and Zoe Chao in what starts as a meet cute rom-com and turns into something much deeper with a couple sci-fi-tinged twists, a bit like Palm Springs, but much more grounded. I loved the two leads and how Basilone made a romantic comedy that actually was romantic and very funny, as well. Both movies I recommend.
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Getting into some of the streamer offerings this week, ZACK SNYDER’s JUSTICE LEAGUE will hit HBO Max on Thursday, so we can finally see whether or not that extra money and work paid off. I’ll be reviewing this over at Below the Line, so won’t spend too much time here. I figure that anyone who has been waiting for this will watch it, as will anyone who has been curious about it. As you can read from my review, I was quite impressed by the film as an achievement in finishing what is clearly a far superior film to the 2017 theatrical release. Some of the highlights include great stuff between Ray Fisher’s Cyborg and his father, a far more fun introduction to The Flash that was cut from the 2017 release and just some insanely crazy good action. I can’t wait to watch the movie again.
Kicking off on Friday is the anticipated Marvel Studios series, THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER (Disney), bringing back the title characters played by Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan, who were introduced in one of the MCU’s better movies, Captain America: The Winter Soldier. I was sent the first episode and unfortunately, there’s an embargo until Thursday afternoon, but I do think that MCU fans are gonna be thrilled with the first episode, especially with the Falcon’s opening action sequence, which is like something right out of the movies.
Okay, fine, so let’s get to some new movies and some real reviews…
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Probably the movie with the widest release this weekend will be THE COURIER (Lionsgate/Roadside Attractions), starring Benedict Cumberbatch, which I’m guessing will be in 1,000 or so theaters. The movie premiered at Sundance way back in 2020 under the significantly worse title of “Ironbark” with plans to release it later in the year, but then COVID happened. I’m not sure if Roadside Attractions planned for this to be an awards movie, but after a few delays, releasing it in mid-March just days after the Oscar nominations, I’m guessing probably not?
Directed by Dominic Cooke (On Chesil Beach) from a screenplay by Tom O’Connor (The Hitman’s Bodyguard… wait, WHAT?), this Cold War spy thriller set in the early ‘60s stars Cumberbatch as Greville Wynne, a British businessman who is coerced by agents from MI6 and the CIA (repped by Rachel Brosnahan) to smuggle Russian secrets from military man Oleg Penkovsky (Merab Ninidze). Greville’s trips to Moscow start getting more and more dangerous under the shadow of the Cuban Missile Crisis, and his wife (the always great Jessie Buckley) wants him to stop taking the trips. It all leads up to a pretty exciting second act as the KGB starts to figure out what Greville and Oleg have been up to and work to put a stop to it.
I have to admit that as much as I enjoy a good spy-thriller, a lot of this reminded me of Cumberbatch’s earlier film Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy – yes, the John Le Caree adaptation, which I was never a particularly big fan of. This has similarities in that it starts out fairly slow, making me think this might be one of those well-made, well-acted movies that are just plain boring cause the subject doesn’t interest me. I’m sure when this was greenlit, there was probably more relevance to the situation between the U.S. and Russia, although this is obviously a British production and maybe something better to watch on the Beeb than in a movie theater.
In general, the stuff with the two men and their families tends to be the best part of the movie. I wasn’t familiar with Merab Ninidze beforehand, but he’s a really good actor who holds his own in scenes with Cumberbatch. Although Cumberbatch’s performance is significantly better here than in The Mauritanian, that’s definitely a better movie, so even in the last act which sees Wynne in a Russian jail, it just doesn’t compare. This is the second film with Rachel Brosnahan in which she didn’t really impress me much after hearing how great she is on Mrs. Maisel. Even so, the movie did make me want to go back and rewatch the beginning again to see if maybe I wasn’t as focused on it, as it should be.
As far as box office, I don’t have much hope for this making more than $2 or 3 million this weekend, since it seems more like a prestige platform release that would have to build audiences from rave reviews or positive word-of-mouth. Coming out so long after its festival debut (kinda like that Thomas Edison movie a few years back) may have helped people forget about the midling festival reviews. Even so, this movie just doesn’t have much buzz or interest from #FilmTwitter who has had its tongue so far up the superhero movie ass this week between Zack Snyder’s Justice League and Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier to pay much attention to this. (Hey, facts is facts!)
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Johnny Depp and Forrest Whitaker star in Brad Furman’s crime-thriller CITY OF LIES (Saban Films), which is about the real-life search for the killer of the Notorious B.I.G. aka Biggie Smalls with Depp playing Detective Russell Poole, who ended up on the case in 1997, and Whitaker playing reporter Jack Jackson, doing a story on Smalls for the 20thanniversary of the unsolved murder.
Based on the book “Labyrinth” (the movie’s original title), it’s a story that takes place in two time periods, Los Angeles in the ‘90s after the Rodney King beating and L.A. riots and how it’s made the criminal element that surrounds rap mogul Suge Night. It begins with Poole investigating the death of a black police officer named Gaines, shot by a white police officer (Shea Whigham) in what is seemingly a road rage incident. As Poole investigates, he learns about police corruption in the force including a number of officers tied directly to Knight.
As Jackson interviews Poole to try and find out who killed Biggie, we flashback to Poole’s investigation and interaction with some of those corrupt cops and being put into extremely dangerous situations. The movie isn’t bad, especially the scenes between Whitaker and Depp, who gives a far more grounded performance than we’ve seen from him in recent years. Even so, the performance that really impressed me was Toby Huss as Poole’s superior, who just brings something new to the tough head detective role we haven’t really seen.
Regardless of what you think of Depp’s activities off-camera, this is a fairly solid crime thriller (as was Scott Cooper’s Black Mass), and though you never actually get to see Biggie, Tupac or Suge Night, it’s an interesting examination into a period in L.A. that seems so long ago but still rings true to what’s been going on in the last year.
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BenDavid Grabinski’s HAPPILY (Saban/Paramount) is a dark comedy-thriller starring Joel McHale and Kerry Bishé as Tom and Janet, a happily married couple who annoy their friends by still having sex on the regular whenever they possibly can. In fact, their friends decide to uninvite Tom and Janet to their planned couples’ weekend because they’re so annoyed by them. One day, a mysterious man (played by Stephen Root) shows up at Tom and Janet’s house, one thing leads to another and they kill and bury him. Thinking that the man’s visit might be part of a friend’s prank, they go to the planned couples’ trip, trying to figure out if the prankster has gotten suspicious about what they’ve done.
For the sake of transparency, I met Grabinski at my very first Sundance ever as he was friends with some of my colleagues, but I never spent a ton of time talking to him. This film impressed me, since it’s a prtty strong debut from him, one that benefits greatly from a strong cast that includes Paul Scheer, Breckin Meyer (who I didn’t even recognize!), Charlyne Yi, Natalie Morales and more, making for a really solid ensemble dark comedy that reminded me of the tone of last year’s The Hunt or Ike Barinholtz’s The Oath or a great lesser-seen movie from last year, Robert Schwartzman’s The Argument. Dark comedy isn’t for everyone, and this is definitely a little mean-spirited at times, but more importantly, it’s very funny and tends to get crazier and crazier as it goes along.
More importantly, I loved Grabinski’s musical choices from Devo’s “Working in a Coal Mine” to not one but two OMD songs, and great use of Public Image Limited as well. The way Grabinski puts this together comes across like a hipper and fresher Hitchcock, and while it might not be for everyone, I could totally see this killing at a genre fest like Fantastic Fest or even this week’s SXSW. It’s clever and original and rather intriguing how Grabinski puts all the various pieces together.
Hitting Shudder on Thursday is Elza Kephart’s horror-comedy SLAXX (Shudder) about a possessed pair of jeans brought to life to punish the practices of a trendy clothing company, which it does by terrorizing the staff locked in overnight. Didn’t get to watch this before getting bogged down in SXSW but definitely looking forward to it.
Another horror film coming out this week is the horror anthology PHOBIAS (Vertical), exec. produced by the filmmaking team “Radio Silence” (Ready or Not) with segments directed by Camilla Belle, Maritte Lee Go, Joe Sill, Jess Varley and Chris von Hoffman. The stories follow five dangerous patients suffering from extreme phobias at a government facility with a crazed doctor trying to weaponize their fears.
Jeremy Piven stars in Paolo Pilladi’s LAST CALL (IFC Films) playing real estate developer Mick, who returns to his old Philly neighborhood and must decide whether to resurrect his family bar or raze it. I actually watched a few minutes of this, but apparently, IFC Films isn’t allowing reviews, so I have nothing more to say about the movie beyond the fact that it’s coming out on Friday.
Opening at the newly reopened Film Forum – currently doing a hybrid of in-person and virtual cinema – is Chris McKim’s doc WOJNAROWICZ: F**K YOU F*GGOT F**KER (Kino Lorber), premiering virtually on Friday. It’s about David Wojnarowicz, one of the loudest voices in the ACT-Up movement during the ‘80s who died of AIDS himself in 1992. (Correction: Film Forum actually isn’t reopening until April 2.)
A few other things this week include Aengus James’ doc AFTER THE DEATH OF ALBERT LIMA hitting Crackle about Paul Lima, a son obsessed with capturing his father’s murderer who has remained at large in Honduras due to a failed legal system. Because of this, Paul travels to the Honduras with two bounty hunters to find and capture the killer.
Lastly, streaming on Topic Thursday, there’s Parliament, directed by Elilie Noblet and Jeremie Sein, about a young man named Samy who arrives in Brussels after the Brexit vote trying to get a job into the European Parliament without really knowing how it works.
That’s all for this week. It might be a while before I can get The Weekend Warrior back into some sort of fighting weekly shape, but I’m doing the best I can right now, so let me know if you’re reading any of this.
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katiebruce · 5 years ago
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adieu, 2019.
Here we are at the beginning of not only a new year, but a new decade. This past year went by so quickly (why are they always going by so much faster? Is this the true curse of aging?) that sometimes I had to hold my breath in an attempt to secure a quick moment for myself amidst it all. That is, I’m not trying to complain, nor say that 2019 wasn’t so incredibly fantastic to me; I digress. It’s just that I’m finding that the older that I get, the more challenging it becomes to live the life I want to live and still have time for myself at the close of the day, let alone to sit down and write about it. I am still deep in the throes of my Saturn Return, and so I know this is to be expected—and again, I don’t wish to complain about how bountiful my life was the past year. I simply state this in a moment of honest reflection, in hopes that in recapping my year, I can learn from it and make the new year ahead of me adopt a pace that isn’t so exhausting and altogether overwhelming. (It’s ironic that I wrote this pledge to myself a full week ago and have just now found the time to sit down and finish this silly, old little tradition I have for myself).
So, here it is, 2019. A final dance for you and I:
It started in the dark, with very loud soul music. My first NYE with a guaranteed kiss—my sweet prince Taylor. A New Year’s Day hangover dinner with some of the greatest at Parson’s, aka negroni slushies and fried chicken heaven.
My sister and Mom visited; the annual trip. Except this year something was different—Kelly’s hand was adorned with a newly acquired diamond weight. The engagement excitement had officially begun, and our usual visit of shopping, eating, drinking and comedy was suddenly buzzing with the anticipation of a wedding lurking somewhere around the new year’s corner.
I braced for the transition into my thirties—and the week it came couldn’t have been any sweeter. I’d just begun my seventh year as a flight attendant and was ready for a celebration of my twenties, and the journey they had taken me on. Taylor took me out for sushi and Shakespeare and we ended up sitting by the fire at a bar near my apartment when the clock struck midnight, and my twenties officially ended. The next day brought with it the promise of my best friend, Kris, and to my surprise, my best friend Nicole—a surprise trip that Lauren, Taylor, Kris and she had been in cahoots about without my knowledge. I returned home from target (of course) to a decorated apartment, loads of tears, and a hug so loving only your best friend could be the one giving it to you.
We played games, drank, ate, and stressed (something somewhat new to me, at least on my birthday) about the weekend’s plans ahead of us.
What was supposed to be a big night out, ended with me too drunk to finish a single drink at the bar. An impromptu house party and some drugs of choice (as well as the now famous Mom’s Whiteclaw—a combination of vodka and whiteclaw) saw me panicking in the bar bathroom and pulling an Irish exit. Feeling overwhelmed by social obligations, as well as celebrations where I am the center of attention, was new to me—I’d always loved it. But with the start of a new decade of my life, and the new chapter that came along with it, I realized that perhaps this wasn’t the person I was anymore, and instead of making myself feel guilty about it, I should perhaps try and embrace it, and learn from my experience instead.
This was the first of many changes within me that occurred in 2019.
Like, for example, when I fell out of love with eyeliner. Silly as it may sound, my densely winged look had become my signature style for so many years and suddenly it had started to feel more like a costume than a form of honest self-expression. Then it was my hair, my style—an identity crisis in the finest of forms—and still, at the close of this year I find myself uncertain of where I define myself stylistically—a minor problem, all things considered—but the uncertainty that comes along with it makes me lack my sense of direction, my sense of self, and my sense of expression. How can I still not know who I am, and who I want to be? How can it be possible to wake up one day, and suddenly feel so entirely disconnected to yourself, and the life you have so carefully curated for yourself—so separate from your desires, aspirations, and goals? What happens to a person that causes this change to occur so seamlessly? And do we all experience it? How are we supposed to find the time to cope?
I felt plagued by this question and still do. Just because a year ends, doesn’t mean everything has a specific ending. Correct punctation. Symmetrical narrative. Cohesive closure.
So it goes.
Spring came and along with it, Taylor’s first trip to Europe: Germany, Austria, and the Czech Republic. We drank beer, ate sweets, and visited some of the finest bars Europe has to offer (seriously—Prague has the best nightlife ever. I cannot wait to return and be haunted again by a glorious bartender who changes into the get up of a tarot card-bearing alchemist when a certain drink is ordered).
Our feet hurt and our jetlagged worsened but we were both eager with wanderlust, drunk on the idea that the interview Taylor had had the day before we left might just be the final one he went on, the ending to our nearly year-length long-distance woes, and the start of a new future together residing in the same city again, the stress of visitation no longer so troubling.
Turns out, it was.
A few weeks later, I took a trip to Maui on a whim. I spent the weekend at the beach, eating pineapples and drinking craft beer. I saw the oldest tree in the nation and felt deeply rooted in this new person I was becoming—am becoming—and felt inspired by her many offspring and how they’d all taken root themselves, baring their own identities, spawning off of one nucleus, off one single stump. I felt I was beginning to spawn, myself, and felt comforted in the seemingless infinite possibilities I would have to re-root, myself, in my own lifetime.
May came and I watched as my Kristopher turned thirty, his own new journey beginning, and celebrated sweetly amongst friends in his new apartment in Denver.
Taylor and I flew to Sweden on a whim—through London, of course—and spent an entire week with the flu falling in love with Stockholm… even though over-the-counter cold medicines are illegal country-wide. Taurus season being what it is, we argued, didn’t sleep, and flew home feeling worse than we had when we arrived. But, despite all that it didn’t spoil our trip. Instead it made us both realize that there are things worth fighting for in life, and that our relationship was one of them—we truly fought for it on that trip, and we both threw punches only to immediately tend to each others wounds, embarrassed we’d been so bold as to injure one another in the first place. I felt a sense of peace in this discovery; a sense of honesty that isn’t always pleasant but is, regardless, helpful.
It’s also worth noting that I ate the best veggie lasagna ever created and drank loads of loads of Meade—seriously—Sweden is the fucking coolest.
Summer came and went, and with the temperature hardly rising above eighty degrees in the city, I felt relieved. I helped Taylor move cross-country over the weekend of the Fourth of July and felt both excited and scared about our new adventure in the same city—hoping he’d love it but allowing him room to adjust and make his own judgements, without my influence.
We decorated his apartment, dealt with a lot of issues that come along with settling into a new city, and still we managed to grow stronger.
And then the wedding chaos began.
I planned a bachelorette trip for my sister in Nashville, and as her maid of honor, the stress was real. We planned surprises, arranged flights and travel plans, and found an Airbnb large enough to play home for all of us. I was dreading the trip until it actually came. We spent four days having fun, celebrating love, and listening to lots of emo music. I was incredibly proud of my sister, and excited for her marital bliss to final arrive that she has waited so long for.
Before I could even process it all, the wedding weekend came, and I watched as my sister took the hand of the man who is now my brother. I have never seen a bride more beautiful or had a celebration more perfect. But windy. Oh boy, was it windy.
Riot fest approached, and with it, Taylor and I’s one-year anniversary. In many ways, it was our year and a half anniversary, but that’s a story for another time. We started a tradition of finding gifts for each other at the Renegade craft fair and then ate our weight in Indian food on what was a particularly cool day in September.
October came, and with it the promise of a long-awaited trip to South Korea. What I initially called “Taylor’s pick” (as a form of explanation, when people asked why we were going there) quickly became one of my favorite places I’ve ever been to. We spent eight days learning the culture, seeing the immensely large city, revisiting the tragic history and eating the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten, day in and day out. I seriously cannot express how much I loved Seoul so simply; it was an experience I will cherish for the rest of my life. We visited the border of North Korea and felt the tragedy of a country at war firsthand and then visited the beautiful rural island of Nami and reveled in the fiery, changing, vibrant fall leaves. We played with meerkats and cooked our own barbeque and visited the birth site of the infamous Gangnam style. I drank a sweet potato latte and ate snow cheese. I cried as we spent our final morning walking Namdemoon market, feeling that a great change had come along with that experience, and that I’d never quite get that specific feeling back again.
My birthday was revisited again, in the form of receiving my present: two tickets to see Harry Potter and the Cursed Child on Broadway in NYC. Taylor had got us first row balcony seats for the two-part play, and we spent an entire weekend running around (picture me showing him all of the settings of scenes from Catcher in the Rye—it was his first time in the city!) and crying during what was a breathtaking, phenomenal stage production. We ate chocolate frogs and drank wine and I felt truly in love with man sitting beside me, who was generous enough to make one of my dreams come true just to see me smile.
In November, we traveled to Brussels (I know—so many trips this year—I’m tired just typing about them all) to see Vampire Weekend and explore. We ended up drinking our way through the city, eating chocolate, meatballs and waffles everywhere we went. We discovered our new favorite beer—a kriek—and drank more of it than we did water for an entire weekend. I felt young on this trip, and though tired, excited for the busy weeks that lay just ahead of us.
Thanksgiving came so fast, it hardly felt real. And then, like clockwork, Christmas arrived. Time at home is always so relaxing, but also so stressful—old toxicities arise and are hard to combat in the moment. I guess part of growing is also realizing that facing these problems head on may not be pleasant, but is ultimately best for both your mental health and the experience of those around you, and that some demons never go away but instead just become tamed in the back of our minds, and we need to accept that.
I watched as Nicole, my Nicole, turned thirty and simultaneously dealt with some particularly hard times. It can be so hard to want to keep our friends safe in our arms, away from the rest of the world and its harms, without realizing that we each have to face certain things alone and experience the growth that that process allows. Adulthood really is tragic, and I want to be—you guessed it—the catcher in the rye, saving all my friends from succumbing to it, falling of the ledge of adolescence, and all the woes adulthood brings along with it.
So here we are, on January 8th, and I’ve finally found the time to draw this to a close. At the end of this particular year, it’s hard not to only reflect on the 365 days passed, but at the decade as a whole. In 2009, I was a horribly depressed twenty-year-old who suffered from terrible insomnia and a heartache I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from. The past decade has seen me both drop out of and return to college and then get into grad school. I have watched so many around me fall in love, get married and even have children, and even more break up, fall apart and divide themselves. I moved to Chicago and began flying, and though I’m tired of it now, I can truly say the experience of it all changed my life and who I am entirely. I traveled to over twenty countries, some even by myself. I fell in love—three times, to be exact. One is now married, one lives over 4,000 miles away, and one is sleeping next to me, forever snoring his way into my heart and wherever the future may take it. I struggled to deal with who I was, who I had been, and who I was becoming. I grew. I grew so much, sometimes I’m not sure I would even recognize the former version of myself, though I’ve left her pressed between the pages of certain books, in certain countries, to be forever immortalized in her own glory over time—even if that specific glory is no longer my own.
2020 has started rough—a long week of work, and six days in, a mental break down that took a fistful of medication and a bucket full of tears to properly silence. In twelve days, the first chunk of my novel has to be written, and in all honesty, I’m struggling. By the end of March, half of it will be complete, and come August, I will not only have my MFA, but the manuscript to a novel in my possession. If this doesn’t produce anxiety in you than I’m not sure what will—we’re talking 80k+ words in eight short months... but I’m trying to focus on a daily word count, and see what I can accomplish on a smaller scale, rather than get swept away by the big, looming picture as I did just a few days ago.
This year I will visit Israel and Egypt—and who knows where even else—I haven’t had the time to think about it. I will fly my eighth year, and hopefully be able to hang my wings in retirement at the close of it.
In a few short weeks, I will be 31 and I will struggle to accept that fact. Where does time go? Why does it seem to go by so fast anymore—and will it ever slow down? I’m looking forward to a more relaxing year but know that I’m lying to myself in even simply hoping for it. I will feel lost, defeated, and at times, hopeless. And I need to be okay with that.
I know one thing for sure, and it is this: I will write. This year, I will write so much, it actually terrifies me. But that’s what life is all about, and what I want to conquer more of in my thirties: my fears. I will cry, and sing, and fight, and fuck and be tired as I do it all, surely. I will explore, I will stay in, and I may even get a taste of some of that sweet, sweet, legal marijuana Chicago now offers.
I look forward to a year full of uncertainties, and I look forward to looking back on it in a short amount of time and seeing how much I’ve grown from where I currently am now.
Happy New Year, friends—and remember—just because a year has a specific expiration, we don’t have to align our hopes and aspirations along with it. Grow for yourself, and bloom when you can. Who cares if it’s in the middle of winter, or the first week of June. Symmetry isn’t natures strong suit, and we should stop forcing our expectations to line up with a silly calendar. Live how you want to live for you, and the rest is just decoration. This is my resolution for the new year—not to set expectations—and to instead let each chapter unfold naturally, to let each page feel crisp and unread under my eager, oily fingertips. Cheers.
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113-things-to-see · 5 years ago
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2019
... aka the one where my blog is still broken. Don’t fret, not all is lost, but due to technical difficulties I had to re-import my blog content and 70 posts just fail to show any photos. I will eventually fix all of them but have decided to completely revamp my blog at another point, especially since I will be busy writing my Master’s thesis during the coming semester. So until then, we still have Tumblr. Anyway, I decided to continue the yearly tradition of reflecting on the past 12 months and setting new resolutions (how original!).
In my New Year’s post of 2018 I described a challenging year and was firmly set on improving my self-care in 2019, fully committing to mental health recovery. 2019 was the year where I would start DBT, hopefully the turning point in my mental health journey after feeling stuck in a continuous downwards spiral. I went into 2019 feeling hopeful and expecting change. Spoiler alert: I am in a much better place now. However, getting there has been the most difficult challenge I have ever encountered.
When I set off into the New Year feeling positive and hopeful, I did not foresee that a) this would last for about a week and b) that the turning point I needed lay elsewhere. The packed days leading up to Christmas behind me, the events from the last year started to catch up with me. Re-traumatised by experiences in the mental health system I felt more misunderstood and lonely than I had in a long time and it felt like like the carefully assembled house of cards was finally collapsing, destroying whatever it could in its wake. Although DBT was giving me skills I desperately needed, I found myself at a point where I was unable to listen, so caught up in the over-powering emotional intensity that comes with BPD, so caught up in the downward spiral, so caught up in feeling undeserving of help. The nexts months were chaos. Somewhere amidst the storm, I managed to celebrate my friend’s birthday and then my own 23rd, which was the biggest emotional roller-coaster of all. My mum and me went to Sketch and saw Les Mis, the latter meaning a dream coming true. But blowing out my candles at midnight, all I could think of was how on earth I would make it to 24.
It wasn’t DBT that presented the turning point in my life. Neither was reaching rock bottom or my turbulent birthday or seeing crisis services. No, the turning point happened only when I decided on it. The truth is that BPD (and probably most mental illnesses) will always convince you that you aren’t sick enough. That others have it worse. That xy needs to happen before things change. That you haven’t quite reached rock bottom yet. All in all, I was waiting for a turning point that would never come. That could only created by myself, by deciding that enough was enough. By deciding that I deserved better. By committing to recovery despite my emotional/impulsive side definitely not wanting recovery but quite the opposite. And this was when things finally started to shift. No, it hasn’t been easy and I can’t say that there haven’t been any setbacks. But that’s okay because recovery is 5 steps forwards and 3 steps back. I have now been doing DBT for almost a year and the sessions and skills I have learned have been life-changing (along with medication). Although BPD is still my daily companion, we can co-exist now. I am no longer thrown around between my emotions, no longer in so much distress that pain is the only way I know to cope, no longer feeling unworthy in a group of people. BPD is not me, I am so much more. To spread awareness, I continued to be vocal about my struggles on social media and shared my experiences in blog posts that many others related to. And it was the realisation how commonly people with BPD suffered in the MH system, ranging from re-traumatisation to being left acutely unwell with no support, that made me start my own petition - Lives on the (Border)line. (Eternally grateful if you signed it!).
In non-mental health related news, 2019 was the year I graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology. Although my graduation day was one of the hottest of the year, I got to celebrate if with my family and best friend, drinking cocktails above the roofs of London - it was wonderful and almost let me forget the stressful months of revision leading up to this moment. But despite the stress, studying Psychology has been of the best decisions of my life, allowing me to grow so much academically and personally. Plus I will miss my class a lot, they taught me what kindness and looking out for each other mean. I have now started my Master’s in Clinical Forensic Psychology which includes a placement in a medium secure unit and so far, I have been enjoying it and can see myself working in that field – or another field of clinical psychology – in the future. I can’t believe that I am about to begin my last semester and that by the end of 2020, I will be looking for my first graduate job. I am proud of myself for coming this far and I am so grateful for the opportunity to help others recover.
2019 came with so much more than mental health recovery and a degree. As so often, it is the small things that made the biggest difference. Study sessions that ended in Thai food and wine on the balcony, picnics in Hyde Park, movies, musicals, birthday celebrations, Christmas carols at the Royal Albert Hall, falafel wraps (if you know you know), amazing books and adopting new plants (that are still somewhat alive). I read more classics than ever, partly due to the fact that I struggled with physical illness this year. Following sinus surgery a couple of weeks ago (this one had been coming for years really), I am no longer feeling ill every day and I am excited to be able to well, breathe. Despite illness, I had an incredible summer during which some of my closest friends and my sister came to stay – think mostly really good vegan food with the occasional play at the Globe Theatre (that makes me sound a lot more fancy than I am) and walks along the river. Last but definitely not least, my brother and me spent a week in Crete – think more excellent vegan food, paired with blue lagoons, beaches and cats. Generally, 2019 was a year of friendship for me, both online and offline and then there are those friendships that start online but turn out to be one of the best offline as well and feel like you have known each other for 8 years rather than 8 months. The kind of friendships that become your rock during difficult times (and make you get doughnut deliveries).
Again, I didn’t do too badly on my new year’s resolutions from 2018. I have said that 2019 would be the year of healing and talking openly about mental health and it has been, although I still have a long way to go. My second resolution last year had been to take care of my body and I have, even though being ill forced me to go at a different pace than thought. Lastly, I have managed to meditate more and at least I got further than ‘Necessito un sombrero’ on Duolingo this year. So far so good. So what about 2020? The new decade? (sorry I had to). This year, I not only want to focus on recovery but also on self-acceptance and improving potentially the most important relationship in my life, the one with myself. I want to slow down, take things ad they come and practice gratitude. At the same time, I will continue to raise awareness for mental illness – and mostly BPD – online and share my petition to hopefully get our voices heard. I do believe that together we can make a difference – even if the process is slow, each step will get us there and break the stigma. As said last year, I want to nourish my body and take care of it and I can’t wait to pick up swimming again (and please make me cook something different than pasta every single day, I need ideas (although pasta is pretty darn amazing)). I am also planning to continue my zero-waste journey and start buying my clothes second-hand, something I have wanted to do for a very long time. Last but not least,I want to improve my Spanish, especially since I am planning to visit one of my closest friends in South America this year and talking about hats won’t really sustain a conversation with her family. But until then: hasta la vista.
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newkpopships · 7 years ago
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Ship with 17 (hip-hop unit) pretty please~.
I’m a Female Libra who is 5'5 with long caramel colored hair (it’s over 3 feet long), bluish-green eyes (they change color sometimes their green, sometimes their blue) & like 80-90% tomboy. I love blogging, singing, archery & just being myself 100% of the time. I’m a bit of a thrill seeker/adrenaline junkie so I absolutely love doing things that most people wouldn’t/would be too scared to do because I have 0 fear/am not scared of anything. I’m the type of person who will willing ride all the crazy rides at a Carnival or an Amusement/Theme Park lul. Though I do have a bit of a calm/relaxing side where I love being outdoors in nature when I can be (aka when I’m not blogging), cooking & baking (not to mention I’m great at both of them) & listening to music as well as singing whenever I can (which is basically all the time lul). I have 3 older brothers, so not only am I the youngest, but also the only girl in my family (besides my mom lul). My eldest brother I share a birthday with (we were born exactly 12 years & 12 hours apart lul). I have a (very) high pain tolerance & currently have a total of 6 ear piercings (3 on each of my ears) & my end goal is to hopefully have both of my ears pierced all the way up & around. I also hope to one day get a few tattoos. Though I want my first one to be of an ombre blue & red water dragon on the outer side of my calf on my right leg (to match my eldest brothers one that he has on his upper arm). I have a very laid-back/casual sense of style/fashion. When I’m lounging around the house I prefer wearing a baggy t-shirt & yoga shorts/short shorts (or a baggy t-shirt, a baggy hoodie & yoga pants depending on the season lul). Though when I go out I’ll wear a simple t-shirt with a tank top & shorts with wedged sandals/flip flops (or yoga pants with a baggy hoodie & wedged shoes/boots depending on the season). My favorite colors are black & red (like legit 90% of my clothes are black lul). My favorite season is Autumn, my favorite holiday is Halloween & I’m a big fan of Horror/Gore movies (go figure right lul), but I do like other types of movie genre’s too, just Horror has & always will be at the top lul. My all time favorite Horror movies are all of the Halloween, Friday The 13th, Chucky, Texas Chainsaw Massacre & Nightmare On Elm Street movies & I’ll be glued to the t.v whenever their on t.v (especially if it’s a marathon of them lul). I absolutely adore/love all types of animals/pets & they seem to adore/love me right back because once an animal sees me it won’t leave me alone/leave my side (tbh I prefer being around animals then people). I currently have 2 pets, a Black Lab/Collie mix dog (Sparky) & a Sugar Glider (Midnight) whom I both love very much. I tend to mask/bottle up all my emotions/feelings & have a hard time trusting people as well as letting people in due to a lot of personal issues I’ve been through in the past. I tend to give off quite a cold/bitchy & mysterious vibe since you never know what I’m thinking or what I’ll do next (I’m basically the Queen of Resting Bitch Face lul), but I’m a very open minded & extroverted person who has no filter & always speaks her mind. I like to keep things real without sugar coating it & call it how I see it which is why I got the nickname Queen Bitch from my close friends. I have a very fiery temper with a short fuse & a silver tongue so when I go off it gets a bit nasty/chaotic (a kind of “red rage” because all those bottled up emotions/feelings I have come out), but I do have a very bubbly, sweet & caring 4D personality that makes up for it all. I absolutely love skinship & pda whether it be giving or reviving it & once in a blue moon if I’m in a good enough mood I’ll even end up breaking out some aegyo (it’s rare, but it does happen sometimes lul). I will say though I have a bit of a soft spot for guys that do/try to do aegyo (even if it’s “failed aegyo” I’ll still find it adorable). I may get a little too clingy at times, but there are also times where I like to disconnect myself from the world & everything around me & just keep to myself (i.e I’ll just go really quite/stop talking & won’t talk again for a little while) & enjoy the quietness of life while being left alone to ponder my own thoughts & to just let my mind wonder. ~Extra~ I’m an INTJ~ I’m Straight Edge (I don’t drink, smoke or do drugs) I’m a “textbook” definition of a “Kuudere” I’m a Creature of The Night/100% nocturnal (I don’t go to bed until 8 or 9 am, but I will take a 1-2 hour nap if I get really exhausted/tired at night) I’ve always been known to be a “lone wolf” (tbh I don’t really mind it lul) I have a “kitten-like” sneeze (it’s cute, but does scare people who don’t know about it) I’m more of a leader than follower (I absolutely hate it when people try to boss me around or tell me what to do) Sun: Libra Moon: Gemini Ascendant/Rising: Aquarius Mercury: Virgo Venus: Leo Mars: Leo Jupiter: Capricorn Saturn: Aries Uranus: Aquarius Neptune: Capricorn Pluto: Sagittarius Mid-heaven: Sagittarius
Sure dear here you go! ♥︎ @katiekittybones (I usually don’t do units though~)
Seventeen (HipHop Unit)
I ship you with: S.Coups
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Thank you for your request and I hope you like your ships! Feel free to request more in the future! ♥︎ ~ Admin J
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scexonctarios · 7 years ago
Text
Ship
For @katiekittybones
“Ship with B.A.P (hyung line)/Monsta X (hyung line)/Infinite (hyung line) pretty please~”
I don’t do no more written ships for Infinite,
I’m a Female Libra who is 5'5 with long caramel colored hair, bluish-green eyes (they change color sometimes their green, sometimes their blue) & like 80-90% tomboy. I love blogging, singing, archery & just being myself 100% of the time. I’m a bit of a thrill seeker/adrenaline junkie so I absolutely love doing things that most people wouldn’t/would be too scared to do because I have 0 fear/am not scared of anything. I’m the type of person who will willing ride all the crazy rides at a Carnival or an Amusement/Theme Park lul. Though I do have a bit of a calm/relaxing side where I love being outdoors in nature when I can be (aka when I’m not blogging), cooking & baking (not to mention I’m great at both of them) & listening to music as well as singing whenever I can (which is basically all the time lul). I have 3 older brothers, so not only am I the youngest, but also the only girl in my family (besides my mom lul). (part 1)My eldest brother I share a birthday with (we were born exactly 12 years & 12 hours apart lul). I have a (very) high pain tolerance & currently have a total of 6 ear piercings (3 on each of my ears) & my end goal is to hopefully have both of my ears pierced all the way up & around. I also hope to one day get a few tattoos. Though I want my first one to be of an ombre blue & red water dragon on the outer side of my calf on my right leg (to match my eldest brothers one that he has on his upper arm). I have a very laid-back/casual sense of style/fashion. When I’m lounging around the house I prefer wearing a baggy t-shirt & yoga shorts/short shorts (or a baggy t-shirt, a baggy hoodie & yoga pants depending on the season lul). Though when I go out I’ll wear a simple t-shirt with a tank top & shorts with wedged sandals/flip flops (or yoga pants with a baggy hoodie & wedged shoes/boots depending on the season). My favorite colors are black & red (like legit 90% of my clothes are black lul). My favorite season is Autumn, my favorite holiday is Halloween & I’m a big fan of Horror/Gore movies (go figure right lul), but I do like other types of movie genre’s too, just Horror has & always will be at the top lul. My all time favorite Horror movies are all of the Halloween, Friday The 13th, Chucky, Texas Chainsaw Massacre & Nightmare On Elm Street movies & I’ll be glued to the t.v whenever their on t.v (especially if it’s a marathon of them lul). I absolutely adore/love all types of animals/pets & they seem to adore/love me right back because once an animal sees me it won’t leave me alone/leave my side (tbh I prefer being around animals then people). I currently have 2 pets, a Black Lab/Collie mix dog (Sparky) & a Sugar Glider (Midnight) whom I both love very much. I tend to mask/bottle up all my emotions/feelings & have a hard time trusting people as well as letting people in due to a lot of personal issues I’ve been through in the past. I tend to give off quite a cold/bitchy & mysterious vibe since you never know what I’m thinking or what I’ll do next (I’m basically the Queen of Resting Bitch Face lul), but I’m a very open minded & extroverted person who has no filter & always speaks her mind. I like to keep things real without sugar coating it & call it how I see it which is why I got the nickname Queen Bitch from my close friends. (Part 2) have a very fiery temper with a short fuse & a silver tongue so when I go off it gets a bit nasty/chaotic (a kind of “red rage” because all those bottled up emotions/feelings I have come out), but I do have a very bubbly, sweet & caring 4D personality that makes up for it all. I absolutely love skinship & pda whether it be giving or reviving it & once in a blue moon if I’m in a good enough mood I’ll even end up breaking out some aegyo (it’s rare, but it does happen sometimes lul). I will say though I have a bit of a soft spot for guys that do/try to do aegyo (even if it’s “failed aegyo” I’ll still find it adorable). I may get a little too clingy at times, but there are also times where I like to disconnect myself from the world & everything around me & just keep to myself (i.e I’ll just go really quite/stop talking & won’t talk again for a little while) & enjoy the quietness of life while being left alone to ponder my own thoughts & to just let my mind wonder. (Part 3)~Extra~ 1. I’m an INTJ~ 2. I’m Straight Edge (I don’t drink, smoke or do drugs) 3. I’m a “textbook” definition of a “Kuudere” 4. I’m a Creature of The Night/100% nocturnal (I don’t go to bed until 8 or 9 am, but I will take a 1-2 hour nap if I get really exhausted/tired at night) 5. I’ve always been known to be a “lone wolf” (tbh I don’t really mind it lul) 6. I have a “kitten-like” sneeze (it’s cute, but does scare people who don’t know about it) 7. I’m more of a leader than follower (I absolutely hate it when people try to boss me around or tell me what to do)
From B.A.P I ship you with
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Himchan
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Even though you don’t trust many people and bottle up your emotions I’m sure Himchan can change it. He’s one of those people you can tell everything and he’ll listen well to you and If you need will give some advise. Also he wouldn’t mind you being clingy. At first he might be a bit taken a back by it and suprised but after a few seconds he’ll adapt to the new situation.
From Monsta X I ship you with
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He’d love PDA with you so be ready for him hugging you a lot. Also Wonho would totally adore your tatoo and piercings. He’ll take care of you really well but you’ll have to take care of him too. He also likes casual clothing so you can match clothes easily.  But don’t worry he’ll probably still go everywhere half naked to show off his abs.
From Infinite I ship you with
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chewie-redbird · 6 years ago
Text
Prologue
Author : chewie-redbird
Word Count : 2,826
Warnings : uh…….none yet
Summary : Lady Brooke Redbird returns back to the town she helped build and calls home to attend the highschool. It is hear that she meets someone who will forever hold her heart and will never forget about.
Characters : OC Character (Lady Brooke Redbird, and others), Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore & I think that's it…..
*A/N : I wrote this a while ago and posted it to Quotev on my account their. This was what got me back into writing and has helped me with dealing with the death of my Mom and 3 uncles that happened in 2 years time. It is because of these that my ability to write has fluctuated over these past months and only worsens with my Mom’s 1st Anniversary coming up on May 23rd…..3 days after my own birthday on May 20th. I am wanting to continue writing and finish this story as I have it all planned out in my head, just gotta get it onto here. I will try to focus more on this series but I may jump back and forth between a lot as I tend to come up with ideas and want to write them down and share them with you all. So I hope you guys like this story, it does have a few similarities with my fav char on The Vampire Diaries, the Myth, the Legend, the Baddest Bitch of All…...Katerina Petrova aka Katherine Pierce!!! And it will contain story elements or plots of many TV Shows or movies I love throughout it. All of which I do not claim any rights to anything that does come from other works!! They are supposed to be just shoutouts and show I love their work. Lady Brooke is loosely based off Sophia Bush’s character on One Tree Hill. I love her on the show and she was easily my fav char!!! Well I hope you enjoy and I’ll add the next chapters when I can!!
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Screams echo….
People running….
I’m can’t move….
I’m scared….
A man moves towards me with a smile….
I scream for help….
I jolt up, looking around, slowly breathing, calming down seeing the back of the limo, I sigh when a voice says to me,
“Lady Redbird, we have arrived in Beacon Hills and are 20 minutes from the Redbird Manor” my driver says,
“Antwan, for the last time please, call me Brooke” I say smiling at him then look out the window.
I look down to see I my travel outfit, black silk with lace trim tank top, black cotton sweater with a couple of buttons down up, black leggings, red flats, emerald and diamond bracelet and an antique black iron necklace attached with a square emerald crystal. My sweater is a little wrinkled from me moving in my sleep, so I slightly get up smoothing it out. Then I continue to look out to see Beacon Hills while memories flash in my head. I remember when this town was a village back in 1890 and when I helped fund the new school in 1941.
We pull up to Redbird Lane, which my family’s manor is located on. As the limo turns onto the familiar driveway, we stop at the gate.
“Antwan Delaver” Antwan says passing his ID to the guard, who scans it, nodding to let us in as he buzzes the gate open.
We drive on in, passing big beautiful willow trees blowing in the wind, all which I planted as seeds and helped grow. Arriving at the front doors to Redbird Manor, Antwan gets out and helps bring in my luggage,
“Thanks Antwan, go unpack, get some sleep” I tell him while giving him a hug,
“Sure thing Brooke” Antwan smiles as he walks back to the limo driving it to the garage, grabbed his luggage and then heads towards his room on the 2nd Floor in the East Wing.
I head on up the staircase at the end of the hall leading to a landing, that splits off towards the East and West Wings. I head towards my master room located at the other side of the stairs, in between the East and West Wings. I begin to unpack, as I buzz Shelia on the intercom,
“Hey, Shelia can you come to my bedroom for a minute?” I say sweetly.
I am halfway unpacked as Shelia knocks on my bedroom door
“It’s open” I say putting new clothes I got while in my loft at Miami,
“Brooke, how was Florida?” Shelia says coming up to hug me,
“It was great, I loved the beach, especially all the shirtless guys” I tell her while smirking,
“And no shopping?” Shelia asks saddened,
“Well one must always make time for shopping” I say matter of factly,
“So how was my lovely assistant’s flight in the new jet?” I ask curious,
“You mean how much I love the new astronomically big jet”
Shelia smiles remembering her time on the jet.
I smile, happy that she was happy,
“So is the Beacon Hills High School’s Principal meeting me tomorrow?” I ask her.
“Yes, Principal Matthews will promptly meet you at 8:00 in the morning, I have already sent your grades over when I got here and already told him you were to start as a freshman as you were held back because of the homeschooling” Shelia tells me checking her cell phone smiling as she knows my grades and homeschooling are a lie,
“Thanks Shelia, your dismissed for the night, please tell the staff also.” I say in my closet looking for something to sleep in.
I finally decide on some new sleepwear for tonight, which all I got from Miami. My emerald green silk satin chemise with luxurious bespoke embroidery. Matched with black ultra thin tulle, scalloped edge and leavers-lace trim pantie briefs. And my emerald-green liquid-like silk-satin and midnight-black whisper-fine Chantilly lace frame robe besides my bed if need be.
After changing, I check my cell, calling someone I haven’t called in a while,
“Cleo? How’s Egypt?” I ask,
“Great, Redbird Industries is up 5% here” Cleo states,
“I miss you. I arrived back to our home” I say sitting on my king sized bed,
“I miss you too Brooke, I miss home” Cleo says at little sad,
“Maybe we should move up our yearly meet to next week?” I ask,
“I can after my fundraiser next week, but you know Amara hates short notice, she loves the Amazon too much” Cleo says laughing with me as we know how Amara will react,
“I’ll call Amara, but you have to call Mariko” I say playfully,
“Ugh come on, you know Mariko is still mad at me for Jason!” Cleo says a little annoyed,
“You two need to patch things up anyways, it’s been two years” I say lying on my emerald green fleur-de-lis and black background polyester blanket.
Cleo sighs, “Fine, but who’s gonna tell Bethany?”
“I will, since I’m making you reconnect with Mariko” I say
“Okay, I need to go, I have a lot of paper work to finish” Cleo complains,
“You always wait for the last minute to do your homework” I say laughing,
“I so don’t miss highschool, I don’t know how you do it” Cleo states,
“I love school, it helps me keep human, but I need to go to bed anyways” I say sleepily,
“Okay, goodnight sister” Cleo says,
“Goodnight sister” I say then hangup, putting my cell on the bedside table.
I lay back, curling up under my blanket and everything starts to go black as I drift off.
I wake up hearing a knock on my door,
“Yes” I sigh,
“Brooke, breakfast will be ready in an hour” Shelia tells me through the door,
“Thanks Shelia” I say sitting up yawning.
I get up putting on my emerald robe and walking to my bathroom, using the sink to splash water on my face. I turn around, walking to turn the shower on, then pick out a playlist to listen to. Eventually deciding on Bethany Joy Lenz, I walk over to hook up my cell to my stereo and play my music. Returning to the shower, taking off my robe and clothes, hopping in. After 15 minutes of singing along to “Elsewhere”, “When the Stars Go Blue” featuring Tyler Hilton, “Halo”, “Feel This” featuring Enation, “I Want Something That I Want” featuring Grace Potter and “We Belong”.
I get out and put on my robe, heading to the walk-in closest to pick out my outfit for the day. Looking through my clothes, I decide on a underwire strapless seamless bra, bowknot scalloped zigzag pattern lace brief panties, wine red polyester knee-length off the shoulder 3/4 length sleeves with lace fit and flare ball gown dress. I then put on my makeup, a black smokey eye with flared out eyelashes, blood red lipstick with bright lip gloss and blood red nail polish with a clear coat.
I decided on my emerald antique necklace, pear-shaped emerald with sterling silver ring on my right ring finger, emerald and diamond with sterling silver bracelet on my left wrist and square emerald with sterling silver earrings. I just let my reddish brown hair down and styled it so the ends feathered out.
I put on my black Louboutin six-inch ankle-heels, grabbed my wine red Prada tote purse, walk to my bedside table. Putting my black Gucci wallet and red Samsung Galaxy in my Prada tote purse, heading towards the door.
I eventually walk in the dining room, where on the side table is this beautiful breakfast. There's fruits, different types of eggs, hashbrowns, bacon, rice, sausages, oatmeal, cereals and yogurts. Milk, juices, water, mimosas and ice cubes in a bucket beside the food.
The big cherry wood dining table is set up with the red silk cover, white moth orchids in the center and red with gold fleur-de-lis porcelain plates.
I walk over to grab some watermelon slices, removed-calyx strawberries (calyx is the leafy steam), pitted-cherries, mango chunks and peach slices. Grabbed a core 16.5 oz. blanc wine glass, poured a special mix of port red wine and blood from a decanter. Bring my plate and wine glass to my spot at the head of west end of the table, sitting down starting to eat.
“So how's everyone doing with the move hear?” I ask taking a drink,
“Good, the kids have settled down just fine Lady Redbird” Miss Carlotta Byrd says, my Head Cook,
“Same here” Miss Slim Ventura says, my Head Maid,
“They love it out here in California”, my Stable Master McKenzie Hart says,
“Awe, does Haley and Seth liking their new school? How do Simone and Lana like the new mall? Is Ryan and Clark liking the school’s athletic department” I ask, eating a strawberry,
“Good, Haley and Clark are liking Devenford Prep, their favorite class is History” Miss Carlotta says eating some hash browns and scrambled eggs.
“Yes, Seth and Simone have settled in quite comfortably in their new rooms. Seth is trying out for the lacrosse team and Simone is loving the new mall” says Miss Ventura,
“Lana has already bought some new outfits for the year and Ryan is also trying out for the lacrosse team” Miss Hart tells me,
“We like to say thank you for putting in a good word so the kids will be in the same classes” Miss Carlotta tells me,
“Awe, no need you guys, you are family, hell, those kids feel like my nieces and nephews. You guys don’t know how much of appreciation I have for you keeping my family’s secret. Your families have been in service to mine for generations, I will do anything to repay the debt. As long as you love it here, I’m happy, you know why my family must constantly move. You know of the danger and yet you still stay here, so thank you” I say smiling.
I finished my breakfast when Antwan comes into the dining room saying,
“The limo is out front Brooke”,
“Thank you Antwan” I tell him as he turns walking back to the limo.
As soon as I get in the back,
“Head to Beacon Hills High School” I tell Antwan as he begins to drive.
We drive through town, passing buildings and houses as I am on my way to another new school year. I begin to remember the other new “first days”, remembering why I keep coming back to school….
“We are 5 minutes from Beacon Hills High School Brooke”
Antwan tells me,
“Thank you” I tell him, smiling at him.
I continue to look out the window, then after a few minutes, we end up driving onto the BHHS parking lot. As soon as we pull up to the school’s front doors, Antwan gets out and opens my door,
“Thank you, I should he fine until 3 o’clock” I tell him, giving him a hug then walking up the stairs towards the doors.
I walk past students staring at me with awe, smiling as I make my way to the principal’s office. As I am almost there, I walk past a very pretty girl with long strawberry blonde hair arguing with a very handsome guy with dark blonde short hair. Obviously an athlete as he was wearing a BHHS Jersey. I walk towards the principal’s door, opening it and walking in,
“Hello, I’m here to see Principal Matthews” I tell the secretary,
“Yes, hello Miss Redbird..” she was saying picking up the telephone,
“It’s Lady Redbird” I interrupt her,
“Oh, sorry, Principal Matthews is waiting for you” she says smiling apologetically while putting down the telephone,
“It’s fine, thank you” I say walking towards and opening the door,
“Hello Principal Matthews, I’m Lady Brooke Redbird, I’m sorry to say my parents couldn’t make it” I tell him while shaking his hand,
“Hello Lady Redbird, I’m sorry I won't be meeting your parents. I have checked your profile, I see you do well in your classes, and even have amazing letters of recommendations from tutors. And all of this while also running an worldwide company and hosting of many charities. You would be an amazing addition to BHHS, and we would love to have you” Principal Matthews says, smiling at me,
“Thank you, Principal Matthews. My parents have sent their regards along with a 500, 000$ check and asked me to offer the Redbird Manor to host a BHHS Fundraiser” I tell him, handing over the check,
“Oh no, that’s too much” he tries to say,
“No, we would love to. Besides, it’s not like my family can’t afford it, education is very important” I say smiling,
“Okay, thank you Lady Redbird, also tell your parents we are very thankful. So here is your class list for the semester, I am a little confused as to why someone with your caliber would wanna start out as a freshman in mid-year?” he asks confused,
“Its fine, I prefer to work my up to graduating normally instead of smart-jumping” I say taking my schedule,
“It’s been a pleasure, Principal Matthews.” I tell him standing up giving him a handshake,
“Welcome as always, Lady Redbird” he say shaking my hand, as I turn around walking out to the hallway.
I begin to look at the schedule, a little confused as I have no clue where my class was.
Brunch : 9:30 - 9:50
English : 9:55 - 10:35 in room 106
Chemistry Lecture : 10:40-11:20 in room 121
History : 11:25-12:05 in room 110
Math : 12:10-12:50 in room 117
Lunch 12:50-1:25
Free Period 1:30-2:10
Economics : 2:15-2:55 in room 120
I look at my cell, seeing it’s 8:20, I begin walking down hallways checking classroom numbers. I see classroom after classroom, students wondering the halls, and then I finally find my locker. Opening it up, I put some of my school stuff there, pens, pencils, booklets, some makeup and a mirror on the locker door. I close my locker, begin walking around the school. I was doing Redbird Industries work on my phone when I was bumped into by someone in a rush,
“Rude” I say as I dropped my phone,
“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. You must be new here, I haven’t seen you before?” this really cute guy with an uneven jaw asks me as he picks up my cell,
“Yes, I’m Lady Brooke Redbird” I say smiling grabbing my cell after he gives it back,
“I’m Scott McCall” he tells me giving me a smirk,
“Well Scott, I got a class to find, so have a good day” I tell him as I walk by,
“Well I could help you…” he begins as he grabs my arm which sent shivers down my body,
“Well, I do need to know where English 106 is?” I ask him while smiling still turned away from him,
“You need to go down the hall, turn right by those stairs, and it should be on your left” Scott tells me while still holding onto my arm,
“Ok, thanks, you have been a kind gentleman” I say as I slightly turn towards him looking at where his hand is still,
“No, problem, it’s the most I could do after running into you” Scott says while smiling, I look at him, seeing that his dark chocolate eyes sparkled a little in the sunlight, which then I realized how close we were to each other,
“Um….care to let me go?” I ask shaking my right arm giggling like a schoolgirl,
“Oh, right sorry, MiLady” Scott says with a serious tone with a hint of joking while smiling at me,
“Its fine, its just if I am to find my classroom, I kinda need my arm” I say laughing while turning to walk away as his smile made me feel butterflies and my arm feels weird without his touch,
“I can show you where the classroom is!” Scott says with a bit of excitement running up to stand next to me,
“I am a lady of House Redbird and ladies don’t need to be shown where to go” I say smiling at him as I turn forward to strut away from him.
I have this feeling of my plan to not be interested in guys will obviously not work out. Because the way that gorgeous dark brown haired, dark chocolate-eyed, uneven jaw guy smiled gave me the butterflies. The way his touch sent shivers down my body, the way I missed the feeling when he let go. Ah, hell, I giggled like a school girl in front of him, which I am not that type of girl. Scott McCall, you are by far the most hottest and a must-avoid guy here back home. All I know, is this time being home is definitely not gonna be boring.
@mummybear @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @dylanobemineforever @spxderbarnes @blueraindrops @obrosey-af @rememberstilinski @mysterysiria @mf-despair-queen @hayley-noelle-salvatore19 @bilesbilinskix @dumbass-stilinski @twilightparker @totesem @agapate-stin-anagki
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jafreitag · 6 years ago
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Grateful Dead Monthly: Carousel Ballroom – San Francisco, CA 2/14/68
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On Wednesday, February 14, 1968, the Grateful Dead played a show at the Carousel Ballroom in San Francisco, California.
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The Carousel Ballroom, formerly the El Patio Ballroom, was “a swing-era dance palace,” according to Wikipedia. Dan Healy, who succeeded Owsley “Bear” Stanley as the GD sound guy, estimated that the venue’s capacity was 800. The gdwheel blog has a Relix mag quote about the Carousel from Healy:
“It was closed all the time, and had been closed down right after the Swing era. It was still in its original state, right out of the ’20s, right down to the chandeliers in the place. The interior was beautiful. It wasn’t at all torn up; it was in mint condition.
[Bob] Matthews and I met this guy who happened to have a four track tape machine we wanted to rent, at a place called Emerald Studios. He was in the Irish League in San Francisco and knew about this place. We were looking around for places to play. He said, ‘Hey, I know where there is this ballroom,’ so he took Matthews and me over there. Here was this beautiful old ballroom.
So, we went back and talked to Rock Scully and Danny Rifkin. We decided to cook up a plan to see if we could score it and do some gigs there. We got hold of the people and they were real good about it. They said, ‘Sure, you want the place, take it.’ So we built our own stage in there and put on our own rock and roll shows.”
So the Carousel became a home for Bay Area psychedelic rock bands, competing with the Fillmore Auditorium. LN discussed the Carousel/Fillmore thing a few months ago, when we featured 11/8/69. Basically, the Carousel Ballroom became Bill Graham’s Fillmore West. Here’s a cut and paste from that blogpost:
In the mid-to-late ’60s, Bill Graham, whose Wiki awesomely calls him “a German-American impresario and rock concert promoter,” booked shows at a venue called the Fillmore, which was named after the city district where it sat on Geary Boulevard. Around that time, several local bands – the Dead, Jefferson Airplane, Big Brother and the Holding Company, and Quicksilver Messenger Service – collectively booked their own shows at the nearby Carousel Ballroom on the corner of Market Street and South Van Ness Avenue. Graham was having capacity problems at his place; the bands were having money problems at theirs. So Graham moved his business to the Carousel and rechristened it the Fillmore West in 1968.
(That happened in/after August of ’68? It’s hard to tell from Deadlists, which says the first FW show was 8/20/68. Deadlists has Carousel Ballroom shows until 6/19/68 and Fillmore Auditorium shows until 12/21/69. I wasn’t born until 10/8/69, so I’m late to the game. If anybody can help clarify below the line, thanks.)
According to the great Jerry’s Brokedown Palaces blog, “the Carousel Ballroom is now the service and repair shop of a Honda car dealer. Go up the wide stairway to see it.”
Anyhoo. The Dead played the Carousel Ballroom on Valentines Day. It’s a classic, and formed most of Anthem of the Sun. The Deadlists commentary is particularly good:
“The Dead played their first set, then Country Joe and the Fish played, then the Dead did their second set. Only Country Joe and the second Dead set were FM broadcast. Much of this show was used for Anthem of the Sun … China Cat Sunflower and the Eleven blend seamlessly together; evidence seems to imply that they were one and the same song during this period (see David Gans’ interview with Robert Hunter in his book ‘Conversations With the Dead,’ p.24) … Some copies in circulation do have the continuation of the Midnight Hour encore patched in, after which the following announcement is made: ‘Hey remember, we’re all prisoners till everybody is free. So tomorrow come out to San Quentin – they need our support. One o’clock, or one-thirty, or two o’clock. Anytime around then. Country Joe and the Fish came here from New York tonight, uh, and so when they left it was about four o’clock their time (in the morning) and they got up at eight. They wanted to stay around, jam some more, but – uh – their gonna rest up and come out to San Quentin tomorrow – as well as the Dead, and some of the Airplane, and some of the other bands.’ Then the KMPX radio DJ then comes on and questions [whether] they will play some more, determines that they won’t, and then says that the time is now twenty past two.”
I didn’t sic that passage, obviously, but there’s alot to unpack there. The most important thing, to me, is the fact that a young GD played as late as 2:20 a.m. Wow. I’d sell my left nut to transport back and help them schlep their gear back to 710 Ashbury.
The Grateful Dead of the Day blog calls this show “the joyous, bacchanalian embodiment of raw, unreserved psychedelic energy, the mainline of straight up primal Dead.” High praise, echoed by the Daily Dose of the Dead blog, which says that the end of the second set “encapsulates everything that was brilliant about the Grateful Dead in the late 60’s.  It’s a raunchy, exploratory experience of such pure bliss that it’s hard to find its equal in the catalog.” Daily Dose continues:
“[T]he opening combo of Morning Dew > Good Morning Little Schoolgirl is a powerful way to begin. Schoolgirl, in particular, accelerates for what seems like hours until everyone comes together in one enormous blues explosion near the end. After a short Dark Star, the band plays China Cat Sunflower into The Eleven, a combination that the Dead only attempted a few times during the first months of 1968 (and once in May 1969). This is an exciting transition, especially if you’re not looking for it, and it could have held up on its own over time if the band had kept it intact, although I’ll take China>Rider and St. Stephen>The Eleven over this any day.
The second set is just one long exercise designed to push the audience’s sonic framework to as close to the breaking point as possible without actually shattering minds.  It opens with a mighty The Other One>New Potato Caboose and then this twists and turns through Born Cross Eyed and into an elaborate Spanish Jam, which begins sparsely and ends up sounding like Metallica playing Grateful Dead tunes for one of the longest Spanish Jams I can remember. All of this pinwheels into the aforementioned Alligator and then things really hit the stratosphere. Suffice to say, the Dead leave nothing on the shelf here – this is unbridled playing, uninhibited by anything or anyone – the music is truly playing the band. After almost ten minutes of what is called Feedback (it should really be called Deep Space) Pigpen comes back out to lasso the crowd with In The Midnight Hour. The band is gassed at this point, but the song manages to hold together until, finally, they bring things to a close ten minutes later.
If you are not used to 1968 Grateful Dead shows, this one is going to shock the senses.  The band’s tone is so much rawer than it would ever be again (even in 1969) and the energy is through the roof (see Jerry’s first short “solo” on Midnight Hour as a classic example).  But once you hear this, you can never go back to who you were before.  This is ear-altering stuff.”
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ECM didn’t send me any of his own commentary on this show. (FYI, he’s fitting in well at LNHQ, and enjoying the “nap pod” that we installed in his office. He brings JTB coffee most days, which is nice, and they have plans to walk dogs. Whatever.) Instead, he referred me to those blogs, as well as some choice reviews from the LMA.
Arbuthnot: “This is a mesmerizing, acid-laced stunner, a remarkable historical document that compares favourably to pretty much anything else from the period; bathe yourself in this beauty and be transformed.”
L. Rosley: “This show is the best of a great run of February shows. 2/2, 2/03, 2/14, and 2/23-2/23 Kings Beach Lake Tahoe (aka, Dick’s Picks Vol. 22) are all outstanding shows in an outstanding run of Anthem shows. This is better show than Dick’s Picks 22. Also excellent audio and mixing.
The second set is Anthem of the Sun live: the complete album with the order of the songs as on the album. In fact, much of this show was used on Anthem of the Sun. Plus, a Spanish Jam thrown in for good measure.
If it were just the second set, this would be a great show. But the first set is also great. It starts with typically Morning Dew of the period, with Pigpen’s keyboard supplying the groundwork for the Jerry-Phil-Bob jam. Dark Star, still less than two months old at this point, and still a short, but it’s tight. DS goes into China Cat – they hadn’t written St. Stephen yet for between Dark Star and the Eleven. This is pretty rare, as the played China Cat in this sequence only for a few months before dropping it for St. Stephen. I love the sound of this China Cat, fast and raw and together, with Jerry really in the zone. It then takes off into the Eleven. Driving with energy, Pigpen’s organ pushes the Eleven along. It’s also clean and tight with great vocals. The Eleven resolves neatly into Turn on Your Lovelight, continuing the force of the set. This is only the second time they played Lovelight, but it’s a dandy.
Jerry dedicates the second set to the memory of Neal Cassady (“Cowboy Neal”), who had died the previous week. A fitting dedication. Then comes a nearly perfect Anthem of the Sun set, and it’s easy to see why they used it on the album. Cryptical > Other One is pure dynamite, and crips and clean and tight, the way performances of Passenger from 1977 are tight—everything is in the right place.
One thing great about this show is that the transitions are smooth and flawless, including the one into New Potato. This features some artful improvising by Phil after the vocals. Jerry lets Phil go at it alone and then comes in with some rhythm guitar licks, slowly building in intensity. It’s masterful. The rarely performed Born Cross-Eyed is a natural capper, but the action doesn’t end here. After all this energy, the Dead go into a spacy, long Spanish Jam that ebbs and flows, and evolves in mood.
Pigpen’s vocal isn’t loud enough in Alligator, but the Alligator jam is fabulous. Following Jerry in this jam is like following Coltrane. Things then speed up for Caution, and the Dead go off into another zone altogether. Caution and feedback are inspired, building to controlled chaos before receding into nothingness.
TERRAPINCANE: “this is a marvelous example of primal GD, with one hell of a setlist and a fun performance…good SBD for ’68, and a necessary part of every GD collection…I mean, when else are you going to find a New Potato>Cross-Eyed>Spanish Jam combo??!!!!”
JackStrawFromWichita: “This is such an amazing show. In Phil’s book he recounts how the band had just found out about Neal Cassady’s death down in Mexico, dead on the railroad tracks from exposure. Typical Neal, dyin’ on the tracks. Phil said the band was trying to capture Neal’s energy through this show, and I think that is one reason why this show is so smokin. Neal was obviously a one-of-a-kind that epitomized the scene of the sixties.”
capn doubledose: “Great show – Get it for the Alligator from Anthem of the Sun. This is how they rolled in those days – chock full of thumping psychedelia. Like the China > Eleven. Close your eyes and you can see the gelatin screens and smell the acapulco gold.”
Transport to the Charlie Miller transfer of this show on the Live Music Archive HERE. And this show is also an official release (Road Trips #2.2), so it’s on Spotify. Enjoy.
This is a classic, guys. Don’t miss it.
And Happy Valentines Day to the real JF. I love you so much, babe.
More soon.
JF
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