#also hanging out with slash dating Americans

[chaseprice]

Me and Jen started Matt smith season of dw last night.

[cod-sins]

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

.ೃ࿐ Ratings: SFW

.ೃ࿐ Reader: Undisclosed

[A/N: I didn't proofread this so if you see a mistake no you did not.]

[Edit: I can't seem to add a read more option fellow mobile users I am so sorry]

𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 ‣. I see König standing at a whopping 6'10 (because I say so) meaning he's a big guy. He has trouble finding clothes that fit his size (especially pants). He gets alot of his civilian clothes tailored or he just has his Oma [ :')] do it for him. I imagine he wears a size 49 in European shoes (16 for Americans) and he prefers boots and sneakers instead of sandals and loafers. His usual outfits include plain colored tees, a jacket (usually dark colors; black, navy blue, hunter green), sweatpants [show off that dickprint] and combat boots. König doesn't wear his hood out in public, so he settles for black or blue surgical masks. He doesn't want to draw anymore attention to himself so dressing casual is his way to go. He's got big meaty thighs and hard abs with a sharp prominent v-line (mwah) to tie it all together.

‣. König has a cleft lip! It's on the right side of his mouth, he hated it as a child but grew up to realize it was apart of him. He has scars on his forearm from a hostile trying to slash him. They run deep and it was a pretty painful experience for him (he hates talking about it and he tries to wear long sleeved clothes but sometimes the weather ends up winning). He also has a bullet scar on his thigh as well. He keeps his nails short except one or two just in case he needs to pick something or scratch. I imagine his hair to be a soft strawberry blonde color. Something like this, this, and this. Because of the military he keeps it very short but he likes when his s/o styles it around. It looks similar to these styles. Despite what canon says I say his eyes are deep green.

‣. König is a Libra! His birthdate is August 22, 1995! [I know Libra's aren't born in August but for the sake of fanfiction shhhh let's pretend it is!] Making König 27 years old; He's very mature for his age!

𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈 ‣. König suffered from anxiety/social anxiety since he was 17 and still suffers till this day just not as much. He's able to turn it off in the field but once he's on leave and is around other civilians it comes crawling back. It has stopped him from making friends, hanging out with his fellow soldiers and even dating. He's still a virgin because of this (and because of work and him finding the right person but that's a later issue). However once you get past that shy exterior he's pretty cocky. He's proud of the fact that he is a colonel and he enjoys secretly flexing on his s/o. "Ja, I took down a group of terrorists and saved all the hostages by myself. No big deal (👀)." He's one of those quiet people who talks alot of shit in their head and sends side eyes instead of starting shit.

‣. König is relatively good at hiding his anger, especially since he wears that mask 24/7. He'll quietly brood in the corner--arms crossed giving off an aura that spooks the new recruits. He's very quiet not speaking unless spoken too or if he needs something. König is so sarcastic! He'll roll his eyes (secretly) or mumble smart comments under his breath––mocking whatever superior that pissed him off. If you're close to you him you'll notice when he's happy. He has a slight bounce in step and he walks with his chest puffed up proudly. It's a real cute sight honestly.

𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 ‣. König's favorite colors are earthy tones. He likes dark woodsy green, russet and navy blue. I imagine he loves the ocean and water. Especially creeks! Winter may not be his favorite season but he loves hiking through the snow in his hometown's nature trails. He enjoys hearing the sound of the snow and dead leaves crunch under his footsteps. Speaking of hometown his favorite dishes are things like beef stew or anything meaty and hearty. He really likes homemade jams and jellys. He prefers going to the farmers market and picking up his fruits and vegetables fresh.

‣.This man's house is HUGE. It would look maybe something like this. It's super spacious with a few spare rooms for guests. König showers more than he bathes. He's legs are too long to fit which makes him have to awkwardly scrunch himself up. He isn't around much because of his work so he never took to the time to properly decorate. If you're his s/o he gives you permission to decorate. Make it look really pretty for him please. He lives somewhere a little distant from the city; closer to the country but not too far. He still wants to be close to local shopping markets.

‣.I think König would prefer a fat/chubby partner over a thinner partner. He enjoys grabbing onto their body, holding them closely feeling the warmth radiate from their body. I see him liking a partner who is quiet. Not as quiet as him because he likes when your chatter fills the silence. But someone who's able to relax and enjoy the ambience of their surroundings. Someone who is able to point out the little details in things. He wouldn't mind an outgoing s/o, someone who speaks for him when he doesn't feel verbal that day.

König was once stationed by an ocean for half a year and it was the best moments of his life. It was so calming for him. Every night he could hear the waves gently crashing against each other it always soothed him. It was favorite lullaby (after the one his mom sings).

König always has his hands held behind his back or he holds them in the front. He enjoys grabbing parts of himself it helps keep him stable and grounded. He also fiddles alot. Like he constantly stretches and wiggles his fingers. Or he lightly traces his thighs up and down with his fingers.

One of his favorite genres of music is Electro Swing. His favorite band is Caravan Palace. He loves all their albums.

100% picks people up. If you're his s/o and you're in his way he's grabbing you by the waist and gently moving you over. If you're on the battlefield god knows he's treating you like a football; bro is slugging you over his shoulder if you get injured or he's tackling you down to protect you from grenades.

If he's stutters too much in a sentence he gets really mad. He doesn't find it funny when people mock his accent. Also!! There are certain English words that König just doesn't know. He's fluent in English and can write well but there are times he gets stuck on words he doesn't recognize.

Has a thing for chubby cheeks. Also really likes chubby fingers. If you have fat fingers please give him a massage, he would love it so much. It's such a nice contrast too; his rough calloused hands compared to your soft round ones.

Looves chocolate. Especially dark chocolate, he really enjoys candy bars with nuts and toffee in them. He adores American super-sized candy bars. He also really likes twizzlers and licorice.

He doesn't outwardly smoke but if you offer he won't refuse. He's makes sure not to make it a habit (his grandmother was very upset when she caught him smoking once), he'd rather die by a bullet than slowly kill himself.

I know I said he's 27 but I imagine him to be 35 in canon.

NATURE LOVER! Bro is enamored by the beauty of his home country. He loves observing the wildlife on walks. He has a journal where he keeps different leaves from different places he was stationed at.

Good friends with Horangi. Not like BFFS (they are) but they're drinking buddies. Horangi helps König with his social anxiety and König helps Horangi not fall back into gambling.

König's favorite meat ever is lamb. He fucking loves a tender lamb roast. Gets annoyed as hell when the meat get stuck between his gums but he thinks it's worth it for the delicious food.

Pretty particular about his beers, he doesn't drink anything he's a man of class! He'll go on this super long lecture about how German brewing is so much better than other countries and that non-German beer/alcohol can't compete. Him and Soap got into an argument about this.

He keeps his area as tidy as possible. He isn't a slob but isn't a complete neat freak. If he has a bunch of random items out he'll try and keep them in a organized pile.

Sometimes he leaves his guns out around his house.

Lowkey likes being needed. There are times when his fellow soldiers ask him for help carrying extra stuff or when children or the elderly ask him to reach stuff off the top shelves. Especially likes when his s/o ask him to carry them. He'll start to puff his chest out and walk around with a dumb grin under his mask.

Type of guy to see people down an asle and wait for them to move instead of saying excuse me. [Projecting fr fr]

A real crafty individual, his hood is just a tee-shirt with holes in it. His helmet is literally a bicycle helmet he modded with military gear. König knows how to sew and he can tailor a little. He prefers taking his clothes to a seamstress or tailor because his hands are very big and sewing can a take a long time and he doesn't have that much patience for it.

He LOVED arts and crafts as a child. He would make so much shit to bring him to his mom and grandma. His grandmother still has his things till this day.

His favorite English speaking bands would be The Smiths, Boâ and The Cranberries. He likes to quietly sing to himself it makes him happy. He also enjoys 70-80s music. I also think he likes the sound of nu metal/rock instrumentals.

If he had an s/o he would love to dance with them. He would/could never dance in public but behind closed doors god knows this man would shimmy with his partner. He doesn't care if you can dance well because he can't dance well, he just wants to let loose and have fun with you.

Broke a guy's ribcage once. It was during sparring and König was pretty pissed with the man because he did something cocky and stupid that caused them the life of another soldier. He didn't receive proper punishment because they successfully completed the mission but König decided he should deal his own form of justice. By putting so much pressure on his chest until he heard a satisfying crack sound.

I think he likes apple cider.

He was raised by his mother and grandmother so he has a softer spot towards woman. He enjoys being in their company.

Smells like one of those fireplace candles or something with sandlewood and cinnamon. On the battlefield thought he reeks of blood, sweat and gunpowder.

Absolutely hates when there is dirt under his nails (or anyone else's). He thinks it looks so gross it makes him wanna vomit.

His favorite animal is probably either a bear or fox. He also likes pigs, he thinks the little piglets are so cute.

König is texter not a caller. He'll send his s/o paragraphs of texts instead of small individual ones because he thinks the notifications would be annoying and the last thing he wants to be is annoying (please convince him he's not).

He always plans out conversations in his head. Before going to check-out he's going through a mental rundown of what the total is gonna be, how he's gonna pay and what the cashier is going to say. Being in the military lowkey made this worse. He's always over analyzing conversations because he's afraid of messing up and embarrassing himself.

He likes drama movies and psychological horror. Midsommar is one of his favorite horror movies.

König has stretch marks on his thighs and legs and a little on his stomach. His growth spurt was crazy as a child.

Requests: OPEN

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Complete Butterfly Outline

Howdy friends.  The following is the complete chapter by chapter outline for Butterfly.  Now that the fic is finished and some people want to see it, I figured there was no harm in sharing.  Maybe this will help some of you better your own outline process.  Note that not everything that appears here made it into the fic, and some things that did don’t appear in this outline.  Some events are also in different order due to me changing my mind during the actual writing.  Feel free to ask me questions about those discrepancies or anything else.  Please enjoy!

Butterfly

The first over-night trip off campus since the training camp is supposed to be a break from anxiety.  But between concerns of history repeating itself, a major research project, and a bleak introduction to chaos theory, Izuku has too much on his mind to properly enjoy the fresh air.  But those worries are a light breeze compared to the thunderstorm that accompanies what he finds on the outskirts of town.  Or rather, what finds him.

1. Chaos Theory -thankful -comic book assignments -sound of thunder -butterfly effect -field trip

2. Yakku -bus ride -small town hero work -interject about butterfly -Cheat-A demonstration -talk with all might

3. Small time -community engagement -reports of stolen food -first day tour and fun, photos with fans -heat lightning -second day early morning patrols -groups: Sero, Toruu, Deku with hero -different route than normal -bullies, can’t threaten with quirk, but has his body -investigate diner -dead bodies

4. Let’s Talk About Anything Else -deku falls back on a table -kitchen covered in blood and black feathers -body: slash across stomach and eyes, other exposed shoulder blades -three form a perimeter while hero investigates -backup arrives, kids dismissed -hug -might have gotten there sooner had they taken a different road -statements and debriefs -return to hotel, can’t eat -hang out in room, read to pass time -talk about comic projects -nightfall’s, others return -Momo makes plushies -animal jokes -can’t sleep

5. The First Rung of the Spiral -third day, more patrols -stolen food in the night -seminar “That was... definitely higher than in practice.”  “Oh good, it wasn’t just me.” -feels like a warm hug, full body feeling of when all might ruffles his hair -“this is mine.  This is me.” -izuku gets through but get sick afterwards from anxiety -secret lake, something in the distance, canceled -watahashi - cross bridge -hibiki - echo -takuya - open also -dead deer -sleep on bus by All might, anxiety subsides

6. Nothing is Okay -week passes -Tsuyu dreams of drowning, talks to Deku -anxiety returns with a vengeance -occasional intense back pain -counseling with hound dog, recommends something from home -pissed that they didn’t receive immediate grief counseling -speak with recovery girl about pain, nothing physically wrong -prescribes a sleep aid, anxiety meds left open -return to dorm to find his leftovers missing

7. Part of the Job -training: escort -dread and erased quirk -deku’s team loses fake civilian -takes it hard -stays later to talk to Aizawa -more complaints about missing food -Mineta brings thank you gift, gourmet popcorn -pain hasn’t stopped -return for movie night: Justice League: Crisis on Two Earths -brief talk with iida -if we were to meet ourselves, we wouldn’t recognize ourselves -“saying the same thing over and over isn’t exactly helping either.” -deku can’t sleep, returns to his own bed

8. Yakku’s Finest -small town investigation inconclusive, murderer remains at large but reports of stolen food have stopped -diner money left untouched but larder picked clean -blood set, attacked in the night -quirk discussion, vague, strained relationship, -teleported in from somewhere, teleported away -DNA testing to be done on feathers “Did you ever go to investigate the houses with stolen food?  When was the last instance reported?”  “Four days after the murder.”  “How far back can your quirk see?”  “One day.”  “How many days has it been?”

9. Dread -awake from pain -reading news updates -school forum rumors about stolen food

10. The Mind Killer -earthquake rescue training -keep notes on others to make up credit -dread not as bad -still has brace, sleepy and sick from concussion -pretends to be better -argument after almost throwing up -getting late -all might was never able to find his all star Superman trade reading online -picnic table with mirio, suneater, and eri -babysitters -talk about projects, mirio did shadow cat and suneater did animal man -brings up Superman’s suneater -all might approaches, chastises him for staring at a screen while he has a concussion, offers Superman trade instead -discuss the fall -what’s one more scar? -“why didn’t you tell me?” -“I don’t know” -“you could have been killed.” -dread tells him he only cares for one for all -phone call -mom going out of town -izuku lies -banging down the hall -getting closer -deku hides behind door -thing hesitates in his room, goes to door -wing claw and eye reveal -calls for help, thing vanishes -no evidence -“I felt it breathe on me.” -most don’t believe him

11. Ache -hospital -nothing wrong -can’t enjoy getting the brace off -another little scar -recoverygirl argues with nurse -all might arrives with stuff -tells izuku to call his mom -confesses to illness -schedule specialist appointment -nothing on cameras -explain Midoriyas condition -compare notes with Jakku -all might calls Gran Torino about izuku’s symptoms -aoyama thinks about Midoriya during earthquake simulation -others ask about the seizure but he doesn’t have answers -put together a card and nice dinner to welcome him back -try to make food himself -update from Aizawa : Midoriya coming back, tired, don’t bother him -izuku breezes past everyone, uraraka follows -has an attack on the stairs -never happened before -retreats to room, leaving uraraka behind

12. From the Outside -bakugo dreams of the sludge villain -sees deku in the crowd, yelling sorry -wakes up, goes to bathroom -finds a black feather, thinks it’s a prank -realizes he would have done the same thing back in middle school -destroys it (invisibitch) -thinks he’s being merciful -izuku keeps thinking he sees the creature out of the corner of his eyes -pain comes randomly -can’t sleep -anticipation of pain keeps him awake -rubbing against ribs -move up appointment -talk with midnight -fanmail activity -“I am the American father waiting on the porch with a shotgun for whatever pathetic excuse for a date is gonna try and take my little angels to the prom.” -wants to hug him, he hates hugs -“I can only do so much” “so much is better than nothing” -rumors of people suddenly unable to use their quirks -might be an illness or one for all hurting him -gives in to anxiety medication -needs to get in contact with a specialist for nerve damage -takes up hound dogs suggestion of something from home

13. Nostalgia For The Future -deku goes home for a plushie, brings todoroki -mom isn’t home -todoroki likes his house, feels small but full -nothing about his dad -“would being his son make his obsession more or less weird?” -declares intent to become a hoarder -confesses to dream about losing his quirk and father hurting him for it -Despite recent trauma, deku hasn’t dreamt at all -swaps a book from all might for one of mom’s -nerve specialist, dendrite -rash -“as a fan I was impressed, but the doctor in me couldn’t help but cringe”. “See?  He gets it.” -neurotoxin as anesthetic (but why) -all might watches procedure -“the scene brings to mind ritual sacrifices from old movies” -maybe attacked during procedure, mess with vitals and life support -chemical evidence that izuku’s brain is firing off pain response -common fixation in young empaths, recreate perceived trauma in themselves -“was there?”  “...I could see bones poking out...” -basic testing comes up negative -“When you hear hoofbeats, think of horses not zebras”. Here we have a zebra -someone is using an empathy quirk on him -someone ate his leftovers -old all might plushie pats bunny -he was so done.  So done, that as he laid down to make a futile effort at sleep, it crossed his mind that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to never wake up. -izuku did wake up; to see Mini-him standing on the ground with a hole in his chest and a slash across his eyes. -wake up to bunny plushy with tears that mirror original victims

14. The Rolling Thing With Wings -Aoyama saw it this time -“Midoriya’s villain is real”, -something is for sure on campus -Aizawa and other teachers immediately go out and search -cold rain -lights catch black feathered mass that rolls away -Aizawa can’t get a good look -thing tries to flee but keeps getting cut off -uses dread quirk, flattens teachers -finally sees it, it cancels his quirk before he can -vanishes -hound dog smells izuku -back to dorm, all might and students comforting izuku -plushie remains the same but camera footage shows nothing -Aizawa and izuku compare dread effects -realizes it may go after his mom

15. Bittersweet Release -Inko arrives at mustafu train station early in the morning -phone call from Aizawa telling her not to go home -wait to be escorted by heroes -calls izuku, he confesses to what’s been going on -doesn’t want to risk putting her in the line of fire -kids spend the nights in the dorm shelter -“The villain was able to hover right over Midoriya’s bed while he slept.  Any one of those nights he could have killed him.  And since we didn’t have any evidence, we assumed he was having nightmares like everyone else.  Do you understand the gravity of what your inaction could have brought on?” -discussion of feelings with hound dog -apologies for doubt -rejoin students -news, villain warning issued -connections to missing food -anyone paying attention could figure out victim is izuku -harsh criticism of UA -izuku elects to take responsibility -hound dog leaves for meeting

16. Table Scraps -hound dog comes in late, cloth tied around mouth in place of muzzle -villain smelled like Midoriya, that close -teachers check security, limited evidence, suggest a quirk that can reverse/move outside of time -connection to missing food -Noumu theory is proposed due to multiple quirks and black appearance -all for one still in prison, twice? -similar to Yakku, get in contact -pathfinder shows map of trails -only found perimeter -entered town to chase the bus -villain seemed to stop existing -one missing quirk: night vision -meanwhile, pro heroes patrolling near apartment -“oh please.  All mights had a kid at UA since my parents were in school.” -spot a figure go up the stairs and enter with a key/silhouette in the window -nobody from the family is supposed to be nearby -go inside and confront the middle school-aged boy, mass under shirt -find him wandering the house, ignoring them -introduce themselves -he goes to sit on the main bed, eating, heroes angry -“waiting” “for who?” “My family” -“my house” -“NO”

17. Voight-Kompff -stitches out -out running for the first time in weeks -one for all makes him feel whole, pictures the previous users welcoming him back into their embrace -breath deeper -“this is mine.  This is me.” -“izuku wasn’t a spiteful person.  Not at all.  He got angry at villains for hurting people, yes, but he couldn’t recall at time where it felt personal.  So it came as a bit of a shock when he found himself pondering if the villain’s wings were hollow, like in birds.  They would break easier that way.” -“hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.  But knowing his luck, he’d treat it like an inevitable.” -full cowl practice interrupted -“once it’s gone I can be with mom.” -medical exam with officers present -increase in students asking for sleep aids -izuku called back again, this time with teachers -karma for complaining about uraraka -gives back minihim -2 heroes murdered in his apartment the previous evening -it isn’t the artificial dread, it’s real -Like before: no security footage, food stolen, wiped search history, this time it seems clothes and personals were also stolen -“quirkless virus” show similar symptoms as victims of all for one -some have different quirks than before, usually minor -most are regular civilians, no hero, cop, or medical staff until murders -murder of diner owners still unclear -pattern, no pain on nights food is stolen -stealth quirks, likely to make another attack -DNA of feathers came back -same as izuku

18. Powder Keg -toga told to investigate league contact -warehouse trashed, dead everywhere -“Oh, yeah, no, they’re dead.  And whoever did it was super sloppy.” “Hang on, Dabs, I’m getting another call.” -answers dead guy’s phone -“how did I ever survive without the preserve jars?” -rumors of someone who broke into UA by themselves, after Izuku -elects to investigate -Superman presentation -outside heroes on campus -Outfield, izuku debates talking to him -unsure if they know the dna connection -calls mom, asks about family -we didn’t want you to feel like you were being replaced -class exercise, warned not to push it -izuku does something during exercise that spooks outfield -sleep in shelter past three nights -villain warning issued -other students don’t know about Izuku’s DNA -sleep in shifts -all might stays close -tries to text mom good night, signal can’t get through the concrete -eri is there, tries to cheer him up “Zawa said there’s a bad guy after you.” “She’s your biggest fan.”  “She might have to fight Kota for that.” -tells her she should go somewhere else since the bad guy is targeting him -she’s having none of it -later, eri and all might asleep on either side of him -keeps an eye on the door -hears sato’s phone buzz, he waves him off to signal his shift is over -lays back, tries to relax -sudden tightness in chest, opens eyes to see the other one standing on the ceiling directly above him

19. Fish in a Barrel -Aizawa realizes its a set up -the other one tries to stab him with the wing spike, eyes glowing red to erase his quick -rolls to cover eri and calls to the others -hits him in the head, disabling quirk -takes out lights -everyone tries to go for him, easily thrown back -slashed across multiple chests -the other tries to go for the door, todoroki freezes it -the other burns and breaks it down, vanishes -chase with bakugo, find toga -“my dad could breath fire” -teacher question how it could have gotten in with so many standing guard -it must have come in with them -mislead the heroes -comfort eri -wounds tended to -Tooru seriously hurt, crying, outlined by blood -idea floated to move izuku somewhere else -toga found wounded at the edge of campus

20. Walk Without Rhythm -“you’re sending me away?” -talk about moving izuku to protect the others -say goodbye outside, the want to lure it -switch trains last minute -dread fades -Aizawa says goodbye -appearance change -tooru wake up in hospital with parents -They met all might, other kids here and awake -tiger comes in with brace, izuku broke his shoulder -all might went back to help -discuss, don’t think the nomu was intentionally hurting them -tell that to midoriya -what are they doing with him -encounters old bullies who act like fans -Aizawa back with the others, discuss -public place.  Hundreds of people. Broad. Fucking. Daylight. -pathfinder there, nomu was inside for hours, quirk that displaces itself -nomu is intelligent, understands aizawa -only superfans and former students know him -izuku mentioned his father was as much of a fan -toga unresponsive -maybe move him to another safe house, evidence that the other is locating quirks through police records, he’s gotten through most defenses -victims have minor records -mom moved around too, discouraged from contacting her -better to hide, all might’s house -end of the day, tired and sweaty -brush appearance change out of his hair, hug -it’s the first time all day he’s felt like a person -“I’m sorry I left you behind”

21. All in All -izuku stays up late to call his dad -argue about timing -“sorry I didn’t call.  I wasn’t sure of your schedule in this mess and I didn’t want to bug you. “Sure” -mostly unaware of what’s happening, mom told them to talk -changes the subject to the Jakku seminar, tries to relate to quirk hurting him -thinks his dad only likes him for his quirk -“you can’t keep crying like this every time you’re stressed.  Youre sixteen, way to old to be crying like this.  You’re a hero.  Villains aren’t going to wait for you to get yourself together.” -“look, if you’re not gonna be invested in the conversation, maybe you should hang up, and we can talk later, ‘Kay?” -Skype call with Toga -managed to talk to it briefly, voice changer -the villain didn’t like her, in denial -said he would fix it -crusty and gross, waste of a healing factor -deku-kun is here, isn’t he? -tells jokes to distract from Dad -all might’s in specialty housing for tall quirks, modestly decorated with comic merch and newspapers -device to hide his life signs -fanart from Young Izuku on the fridge, bought the magnets just to put it up -old classmates posting about him online, he’s a cool hero -forum trolls, could probably take them -“I thought you were supposed to be discouraging me from picking fights with villain’s every other month.” “Oh hey look at that, you made a quip” -talk about feelings ⁃ is my rambling annoying, endearing -“it’s okay to still be upset, you know.  You don’t have to move on right away.” -year newspaper -butterfly returns to U.A., breaks window, noises, squeezes through naked -students pretend to sleep, half in costume -it passes over them

22. Idle Imprisonment -day 2, report comes in, three critically wounded policemen not far from u.a. -izuku does class work ⁃ all Might pins points on a map, far off -day 3, more reports of missing and mismatched quirks: tracking and radar -day four: 4 civilians and 1 hero murdered, several others injured -feathers through the eyes -mt lady back in action -izuku can’t take it, wants to go out and confront butterfly -massive argument with all might, hides in room again -“cabin fever!?” -all might figures he’ll try to sneak out, overhears him struggle, his windows don’t open

23. It Matters -later that night, all might offers dinner, goes to watch tv -izuku slinks out and eats with him on the couch -“think I don’t know how it feels?  To be stuck inside safe while the thing that hurt you is running free to do more harm?” -“I miss it sometimes, but I get to spend more time with you” “I’m not worth it.” -“if it hadn’t hurt me, I might not have met you.  Either my time limit didn’t force me to hear you out or I might not have come back to mustafu at all.” -back and forth about izuku’s worth, “are you trying to convince me to be happy or regretful” -“ok, lets try this: what do you hate about me?” -“I hate that you don’t trust me.”  “And you constantly treat me like a little kid!  Hate that too!”  “You are a kid!” -“I want you to tell me one thing you don’t like about me.  As a person.”  “Why?”  “If I have to be honest about how I feel so do you.  You only ever say nice things.  You act like there’s nothing wrong with me but there is.  If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to keep guessing.”  “...  back in the shelter, after the villain attack...  that was the only time I’ve ever heard you truly laugh.” “...  that’s it?” -“I, I’m not a fan of how you talk about that video of my debut.” “But, But It was a great rescue-“  “It was awful,” he snapped.  Midoriya recoiled.  Good.  “It was so awful.  Hundreds of people died.  Most of the people I pulled to safety didn’t pull through.  I hear them screaming still in my dreams.  I hated every second of that night.  And I hate that you love it.”   -“That shot one shot, the one people plaster everywhere, of me coming over the ridge carrying a dozen people?  Half of them were already dead.” -“How did you even see that anyway?”  “Mom said the news was running a special for the twenty-five year anniversary...  I watched it with my dad...”  “and you would have been what?  Two, three?” -talk about debut -tells him about Nana and his childhood -hid from villain’s like this “I loved her like my mother.” “Did she love you as a son.” -“it doesn’t matter.” It does. -talks about how izuku is great -never initiated a hug before, what else could he do besides pull him closer? -“I hate yelling at you.  You’ve had too much of that in your life.  I just want you to be happy.” -“and I’m going to keep you here until you realize how much you matter” -caught between child and adult, wonder what he’d be like had he never influenced him -will the scars on his arm grow with him? -he wanted to just keep holding him, to make up for all the times he should have but didn’t. -carries him to bed -“I can walk.” “I want to carry you.” -he’s going to be okay.  He’ll grow up.  Conquer the world with his smile.  Be the unshakable pillar the world needs, all Might had no doubt.  But not tonight.  Someday, but not tonight.  Tonight, he is a small terrified child, separated from his family, and on the run from an unknown horror.  Tonight, he deserves a moment to be scared and sad, and be comforted. -life sign hider gone -prays he stays just this small forever -he’s like a son to him -he stays for a while after he falls asleep, just to be sure

24. The Other One -all might dreams of his death at the hands of all for one/wolfram -wakes up to alarm, needs to eat -izuku inspired him to keep living, gets up to check on him -remembers the dream theory, goes to check his fridge -closes it, butterfly is right there -smells him before he sees him -running down a list of ways to get a hit in, major blood vessel in the temple -“Hello” silence, “are you all might?” Ask about fighting the ‘same’ villain Beat him with the help of his student Butterfly gets angry, the other one -“he’s almost shocked to here a human voice come out of it...  a young voice.” Other what -comes into the light, more scar than skin -talks him down, reaches out to touch him -doesnt believe -same shoes, faded and frayed and falling apart, but the same -never one to talk down hostage/suicide -says his name -butterfly stunned, cries at the kind touch -hug -same eyes -he’s izuku again

Reveal post - https://lckhr.tumblr.com/post/175255988293/okay-villaindeku-is-so-popular-right-now-but

I want to add to this real quick because I just dug up my original notes I wrote at 2 am last summer when I first thought of this fic and it reminded me of some stuff. The world of My Hero Academia is set up in such a way that whatever bullshit power you can think of will probably fit.  A lot of superhero universes have that, but something about MHA makes it so much more pronounced.  Combine that with the idea of All for One, a quirk that lets the user wield an unknown number of powers, and there is some serious potential to absolutely abuse the setting. The idea was to create a lone villain that could perfectly counter everything thrown at it, to the point where it feels like a supernatural monster.  Security?  Quirk that prevents cameras and sensors from recording its image.  Evidence?  Quirk that rewinds time on displaced objects.  Witnesses?  Quirk that prevents people who are already asleep from waking up.

25. Butterfly: Origin -“as hard as he tried throughout his life, Toshinori knew he could never be Superman.” -“He wants to hurt your boy/ but he is my boy” -all might feeds him, too thin, still heavy -talks him into taking a bath while he makes him a warm meal -Texts his izuku to be silent and contact Naomasa -stolen possessions with his clothes, folding quirk, , flattening, sticker quirk -cries at the red shoes -butterfly comes back out, reveals wings -all might makes him a cutout shirt and sling for vestigial wings -its a cold night,hairdryer, hopefully izuku sees the opportunity -“he’s so gentle.  The boys arms are thinner than his.  It’s wrong.  He feels like any pressure greater than a brush will shatter bones.  He could break his fingers with a pinch.  But maybe he should.  This is a villain.  It tried to kill my boy.  But he is my boy.” -“did you ever fly?” “Once” -“it’s okay, you didn’t know.” -getting scolded for hurting himself is universal -so is being a chatterbox -considers Christmas present in the closet -tells him to lay down on the couch and watch tv -butterfly asks about one for all, consent -admits to killing Mirio -all might asks about all for one, vague backstory -noticed something was wrong after usj -“he said there was a time where there wasn’t a single child in Japan born without his permission.” “It was a mercy killing at that point.” -more time in a day, imprisoned for seemingly twice as long -drawn to yakku by picture of lodge that looks like apartments -“I heard someone say my name” -lie, offered to trade quirk, got in a drunken fight -has both parents quirks, implied to have killed Dad -wanted to scare his izuku into going home, no one was there, took it out -has mom’s quirk, “someone else lives there now.” -tried to find mom, “once he’s gone, I can be with mom.” -“I’m only hurting me. I’m not worth it -inter-dimensional quirk, -Inching closer to all might -you didn’t say that, the other you did -all might confronts him on his crimes, defense is that they started it -“you’re not right” -puts head in all might’s lap and moves his hand to his head -found izuku, jealous of his life, not sure what to do -realizes that izuku has one for all -“WHY” -describes the sludge villain incident -compare outcomes -butterfly gets upset, prepares to strike -all might says sorry

26. Bizarro -izuku listening in the whole time -attacks butterfly as he’s about to strike -wounds all might in the chest -butterfly screams accusations -brutal fight, bitten ear -izuku stands up to dread -ripped vestigial wings clean off -fight, flees at approach of heroes -wind and rain enter through broken window, mess up all mights hero shrine -izuku still feels like he has grime on his hands from the wing -its me -hospital, all might severely injured but stable -sneaks into room -stabbed where his lung used to be -“Did I ever apologize for saying you couldn’t be a hero?” -apologizes through tears for saying izuku can’t be a hero -sad hugs -tells nurse that he’s his son

27. Same -thinks butterfly is holding him -Aizawa says nurses told him all might was with his son, calls it inappropriate -hesitant to leave all might -please don’t take him from me -all might holds onto him for as long as he can -Aizawa wants to call them over dramatic, but this feels warranted -it’s me, i know -news from kids perspective -Sero -escorted everywhere, never alone -no way to tell what’s going on -wake up, check the news -need to confront butterfly -meeting in a moving vehicle -Pathfinder there, special sunglasses -how many were killed, lie -Butterfly’s notes, crinkled and overfilled, izuku can read them -addresses, quirks? -safe places, food,  Trying to find home -plan A, swan dive -he was trying to get me to kill myself -plan b, kidnap to other dimension and kill, pose as the same one having been tortured -what’s plan c? -more missing quirks and murders, offensive capabilities -pathfinder attacked, quirk stolen -team of heroes go over what they know about him -analysis of wing he ripped off -rapid nerve death, theorize that his healing quirk is killing him -why hasn’t it? Quirk preventing organ failure -once the body runs out of fat, it goes for muscle -after muscle, it goes for cardiac muscles -that’s what the dread is, empathy -perpetually on the brink of a heart attack -means they might be able to go all out against him -uses inter dimensional quirk to conceal movement -ask izuku what he could mean by the right quirk -memory alteration, body swap -all might Skyped in “You’ve been trying to clean up the mess the other you made, let me do the same.” -you didn’t fail, the other you did -how to restrict movement, only ever does it outside -shelters never built in his world -set a trap, need a place that doesn’t exist in butterfly’s world

28. The Net -go through the tunnels to the main shelter under the school -can’t discuss the plan Bakugou tries to ignore him and unpack his stuff Izuku flinches from contact -says goodbye to classmates I love you all, thanks for being my friend...  you have no idea what it’s meant to me -don’t talk like that, it makes it sound like you’re not coming back! -hugs -midnight cries -talk with Bakugou -shapeshifter butterfly -it’s a forced smile.  “Forced” is the only way to describe it yet if feels like it isn’t enough. -new bunker at UA -limited air conditioning -pathfinder walks him through messing with his quirk -i got your letter -did you know them?  They were good people -didn’t mean to be so harsh, people get hurt when you aren’t good enough -step outside briefly, the world is so much more vibrant without his quirk in the way -“it’s a tomb” “yeah.  Let’s make sure it’s not yours” -obvious trap, he won’t be enough -need bait -all might about to be discharged -agrees to stay as the casualties of the trap will be sent to the same location -inko enters, told to wait for her son there -got stolen stuff back -izukus first all might toy -talk with all might, maybe izuku’s Dad, left around the time he was quirkless -I want to push him forward, but also want to shield him from the world -welcome to parenthood -asked for blood drawn

29. You Shoot It -dream of deer in the woods, all turn to look at him together, one missing a face -toga disguised as izuku’s mom, distract him long enough to ceil the doors -no sign of butterfly -concern -butterfly enters by bending the door, an army of bugs -Izuku watches from another room, he’s a last resort -toga tries to convince him to stop fighting, can’t -something off -tries to stab him, nothing -turn around -cut to Aizawa -Bakugou seizing, that’s not Deku -“suit up” -strangled -fight -Cementoss seals the door -upgraded -pain sharing, metal feathers, ribbon skin, black bone, fero blood, wing spears, teeth bombs, throw feathers, telekinesis, fire breath -attacks do nothing -it’s an illusion -turn around, butterfly strikes while looking at him reveals partially healed form, antlers Flee out the room, fighters overrun by cockroaches Erasure is his most powerful quirk Izuku flanks him and kicks him in the skull, blocked by antlers -antlers become bendy and grab him Butterfly tries to go for izuku’s eyes using mom’s quirk -other heroes quickly tossed aside -chase down izuku through the maze -fold hole in the wall -punch in the jaw, teeth explode -izuku nearly overpowered -held down completely -strangled

-Aizawa and the class rush to the entrance, blocked off -must be a fail safe, butterfly was meant to break in -break down the doors -what if butterfly manages to escape -mina’s acid, strong punching, laser, explosions Aoyama asks for braces or someone to hold him while he blasts the ground -anger he doesn’t have the right quirk -knows his is the only one that can disable butterfly -they have to take the risk

-held down completely, erasure flickers -Pathfinder hits him with a baton and tries to choke him, distracting him -only one eye -izuku breaks free with 100% -smashes Butterfly’s eyesocket with his knuckle -blood splashes in his face as he flees -scream behind him -arm strained, can’t tell if it’s broken -pathfinder’s fate unknown -brief visions, body swap quirk Realize butterfly has been holding back because he wants a healthy body Test how much

-aizawa run through the maze -find pathfinder -hear screaming

-leap though illusion and snap off one of butterfly’s wings -tear membrane with own feather, cut between broken bones -it tries to crawl back to him -illusion breaks, revealing deer skull -flee, openly crying, bleeding tears -lock hands, izuku breaks others fingers, -wings burst from his back, heroes hold back wings -powers through pain and dread Leaps up and smashes the floor to pieces -butterfly screaming at him Jump at each other -Spears izuku in the back Break through the ceiling -Aizawa erases his quirks -restored appearance fades, more decayed than ever -izuku kicks and breaks his neck

30. YU SHOOT ITT -izuku was fading -a round face, a thin face, green eyes both -something shiny bobbing in and out of sight -butterfly stream of conscious -reuse lines from before -senses izuku in the other room -force shared pain and empathy as he’s dying -izuku screams in agony -felt his stomach split again.  A candle to a forest fire.  Pathetic. “This is mine.  This is me.” -shared perspective -why do you deserve to be happy and i don’t -you kill people, tired to get me to kill myself -but before, i didn’t do anything wrong -why did it all go so bad? -gets up, floats with his quirk -barely copies normal movement -Floats to the door -Aizawa stops him -hard to breath -feels his mom and all might comforting him -that’s really mom -force the connection harder -stop screaming i wanna hear what mom’s saying Aizawa cuts him off again, he cries Feels his bones sink -“do you think if I die in this world, I can still be with my mom?” -goes down struggling -“it’s not fair”

31. At Rest, At Last -izuku flatlines but is revived -undo the latches on his costume Taken back for surgery Sit in the hall and cry for hours -a defibrillator is for a different kind of heart attack -so that’s what it was?  A heart attack? Doctor rushes by with an ice box Explain to aizawa that izuku flatlined -butterfly is dead, new despair -took his stomach for izuku -inko and all might go to see butterfly -inko wants to see him, takes a moment to recognize him -that’s her baby -screams -hugs and apologies -all might would have gone to stay with him -they both despair but are thankful for their son -“he was barely five years old, and he was ready to accept that his family didn’t want him.” -goes back to izuku -his hand is bigger than hers, when did that happen?

-final casualty count, pathfinder dead (?) along with several police officers -doctor recounts the autopsy -butterfly was dead on his feet, practically killed him -barely enough muscle to hold his own head up, let alone stand -“in my unprofessional opinion, this was a mercy killing.” -Aizawa looks at the body, that’s midoriya -Aizawa wants to try and bring him back with eri, Might not work, Might traumatize her -argue, all Might says he was too far gone, they wouldn’t be able to shield him from criminal charges, record like his would net him the death penalty anyway, stuck in a cage again, all that hate and fear in his heart left to fester in a padded cell for the rest of his life -thinks he would come after izuku again, what do you think that screaming was?  He was trying to take him down with him. -not hurting anyone else, not hurting himself -“He said he wanted, more than anything, to rest/stop fighting/for the pain to stop, and now, he has.” -“Aizawa-kun. ..  Please let him rest.” -Aizawa leaves before he can break down

-toshi looks over butterfly -“an innocent butterfly, drowned in mud and crushed under the boot of the world.” -not innocent, but he felt someone should be there to see him off -Apologizes -runs hand through his hair, shushes him even though he’ll be silent for quite a while -hesitant to leave him -that’s my boy...  That could have been my boy -bodyswap lingers in his mind -kisses his hairline, touch of cold lingers -goes to wash his hands and face before returning to izuku -wakes up later -“he’s dead” “I know.”

32. All Those Moments -

-aizawa drives back to ua with midnight -she tries to joke with aoyama about makeup, he’s not having it -won’t go into details about butterfly -mic greats them at the gate, hug -comes back to dorms to welcome party “Midoriya’s villain is dead.” -they cheer -Bakugou pulls him aside to try and get answers -people who’s job it is to save lives should never celebrate the death of another human being, be relieved, be thankful, but do not celebrate -don’t cheer for death -cries while holding eri -mic and midnight ask him what’s wrong -he was just a Kid

-do you want to be buried or cremated, inko can’t stop thinking about that phrase -3 services in three days -mass wake for officers -izuku makes rounds, “your child/spouse/parent” saved my life -inko almost couldn’t get out of the car -izuku said he had to come -pathfinder funeral, mention the teens and neji -he saved my life, i want to be worthy -crematorium, limited service in his home town -service in jakku -speak briefly to stripes -ask to speak at the wake, doesn’t have the best luck with speeches -mom asks why, he didn’t really know him -Jakku heroes offer him a job, we’ll save you a spot says he never wants to come back here -pass a boarded up diner -I’m his mother, i should be here -never spoke with butterfly, never in the same room when he was alive -cold gripping horror at burying her own son -service ends in slow motion -no words exchanged -silent for the whole long drive home -dotes on izuku at home -not home, couldn’t bare the thought of sleeping where someone died -all might rented a place/or all might’s apartment -he carries around his all might and blankie -makes him food, watches tv -cuddle in her bed like when he was small -her sweet baby boy grew up to face unfathomable horror -wants to promise no one will hurt him again, they both know she can’t

-villain graveyard -“Izuku Midoriya, 16 years old, at rest at last tailored clothes around his wings, buried is his shoes -izuku goes to butterfly, stares His bones wouldn’t burn He suffered 16 years old, seventeen in a few months, he’ll grow.  Live. Make sure he keeps living ⁃ Took midoriya to view the body before it was buried.  Stared, said nothing -all might dusts of the grave, leaves a few flowers and food -still conflicted, butterfly was worse case scenario, uses it as motivation to protect his boy -he longs for some sign.  Waits for some great vision that the boy is well in the end.  A butterfly wing broken wings that still flies.  One on the tombstone.  It’s the dead of winter.  Him coming to him in a dream, face full and bright and back bare of those fowl wings that shackled him to the earth, and promising him that he’s not in pain anymore.  But it never comes.  Butterfly died in agony, after years of torture, alone. -“Toshinori wasn’t a religious man, but he still hoped that, if something did become of young butterfly in the en`d, that he at least got to rest.” -he might be moving into the same new building as the Midoriyas -picks up Izuku from first therapy session, not much to say -you’re my boy aren’t you? -don’t want to say anything that makes him spiral further Do you remember what happened before this all started? -we talked about Superman, you said your name was inspired by all Star Superman -and... -rumors about being his son, “I don’t mind” -cry, hug and a kiss on top of his head -sixteen years old, he’s my son -return home -izuku stares out the window Take him to the tokoyaki stand Sit on the beach wall -cuddle like they did the night before butterfly attacked -izuku crawls up his sleeve and presses his forehead -yeah.  Yeah you’re mine.

⁃ When Butterfly was around, he never had nightmares.  Now that he’s dead, Izuku has nothing but. -izuku can’t sleep, -home doesn’t feel like home anymore -people died here, in this world, and the other one -has nightmares when he’s awake too, they’re memories -likes All Might’s thin arms, likes to be carried, better than those too big that held him like a pet while the bones in his back pulled away from the rest of his body. -checking himself in the mirror, scars on his chest fading fast, no evidence if he covers it up -asked the doctors to remove his scars when he went back to get his stitches out, just the ones from Butterfly, back to what he was before -regrets it -looked butterfly in the face, up close, in the eyes, and though: that’s not me.  It can’t be -looks at himself now, his own face in the mirror, and thinks: that’s not me.  It can’t be -too thick, skin to smooth, hand in his hair to search for antlers -I’m me, aren’t I? -text from friends, excited to have him back -compulsion to go outside, he does -it’s cold out without a shirt, starting to snow -I could just go -wants to run, from what? -doesn’t want to face the others How can he just go back to normal? -if i don’t say something now, i never will -wake up mom, I’m ready to talk about it now -sees all might in the kitchen again, mom too -visions of the other ones life

-Bakugou s body, swollen and broken -desperation to find a school that will take him -walk past the gates -sell blood -luxury apartment -All for one, first quirk are the cherub wings, small, but his -not the only one, testing multiple quirks, isn’t sure when he becomes the favorite -wings are painful coming in, all for one holds him -gave in eventually -can’t see all of the wings in the mirror, shine green in the light -lakies make fun of his failure, requests quirk to stop crying -creates copy of all for one -usj, something wrong, gets erasure -flees out the window, can’t get home, returns willingly -tested on with mutation quirks as punishment, cries when he discovers minor telekinesis -isn’t there for Kamino allegory, acts desperate to save Sensei, erases immortality quirk -tries to go home again, authorities mistake him for villain, programmed to attack -he finds Dad.  Dad, who hadn’t so much as touched him in a decade, picks him up and holds him like its nothing.  He kisses his head and calls him baby and tells him everything is going to be alright because he’s here now.  And it was for a while.  He fed him and bathed him.  He sleeps tucked close to his chest like when he was little, even if the wings took up a lot of space.  He has to comfort his father when he cries for mom, since he can’t cry anymore.  He and takes him to the doctor.  They don’t know how to help him.  He says he wants everything but moms quirk to go.  Dad doesn’t understand why he has it.  He doesn’t listen.  He never does.   At least you aren’t quirkless anymore Steals dad’s quirk to teach him a lesson about being quirkless Dad only came back for mom.  He said so.  He was missing for over a year and only came back after mom went missing.  He blames him.  He burns off the tips of his wings. -they think he’s a villain -Kills mirio -trades quirks for money, later just food -chase anything related to mom -wanders to Jakku, ua goes there around this time of year and he saw an ad for a lodge that looked kind of like home -hears his own name -demands the bridge quirk guy trade him, had enough -kills.  Jumps.  Sees himself, up on a stage in a hero costume from his dreams, smiling among deafening cheers.  And he shares his dread. -sees both of himself, locking eyes in the ambulance, round face, thin face, green eyes both, watching and feeling each other die

-run back inside -wake up mom and all might -i don’t think I’m me anymore -stuck with all this anger and hatred and fear -can’t tell the difference -all might says he feels guiltily instead of angry -but i am angry -writes as he talks -it’s like one glass of water being poured into another glass of water -hard to tell where the first ends and the second begins and you can’t separate them -did he take something from you -don’t know -“after all that, do you still think you made the right choice?”  “Never came into question.” -has his whole life ahead of him -going to die eventually -takes out notebook -“Butterfly” crosses it out, rights his own name -lies between the two people who love him most -all might’s hand on his chest, holding him -other arm curling mini him to his chest -mom has his blankie -izuku has his all might plushie -tomorrow, he goes back to all his friends at the best hero school in the country -people like him, he has fans -almost too good to be true -this is all butterfly wanted -all i ever wanted -more than i could have ever asked for No one stalking me, no one chasing me -I’m home -do i deserve it though? -have to make decisions, could spiral -have to go back out into the world and keep living -for now, he let himself feel happy -the two sides agree to feel happy -“this is mine.  This is me.  And there’s nothing I can do about it.” -and for now, I’ll let it make me happy -this is mine, this is me -deep under guilty happiness, lies dread he knew could only come from himself. -this dread could only be his own.  Maybe it was always. -it’s mine.  It’s me. -whoever i am, I’m alive -no matter what i do, whoever i am, I’m me.  I’m me.

[mypunkpansexualtwin]

misguided wingman is literally my shit i personally love seeing akira written as a lovestruck fool. also catch me still melting over "Were Helios half as radiant as my Chariot, the world would understand the folly of Icarus..."

Pear!!! Thank you so much, I’m gonna be honest I never expected my one-off idea I had almost a year ago to go from “yeah ryuji seems like the kind of guy to get a lowkey-confession-slash-coming-out like that and decide to support his bro by playing wingman at a guy he doesn’t realize looks like his American cousin” to blowing up into the 6 chapter thing that it is or for it to get the feedback that it has. I am so excited to post it, you have no idea, but I’ve been holding off because I know what happens when I try to post a multichap piece before it’s done and I don’t want to leave people hanging.

And if you like Lovestruck Fool Akira, I hope you also like Anxious Dork Akira, because we’re now past the date with Hawaii Guy and into “oh god I’ve cheated on Ryuji” “You aren’t even dating Ryuji” “I’ve cheated on him”. It’s fun stuff and based partly on my own real life experience, so that’s fun!

And the Helios line. Oh my god the Helios line. I’m so proud of that, I’m so glad I remembered to write that one down because that one was a Halfway To Sleep At 3 AM line that I had forgotten by the time I woke up. I tweaked it a little from the original thought, “Were Apollo half as radiant, the world wold understand the folly of Icarus was not hubris but reckless devotion” and I’m really happy with both versions. But Helios and Chariot seemed Especially Fitting, yanno? I’m not sure how I’m gonna top it in the spinoff fics I’m planning, but I’m definitely gonna try. At least in two of them, the third is just gonna be an even more self-indulgent chatfic between the rest of the PT taking bets on when/how they’re gonna get together.

[lettheladylead]

avoid the unhappy ending (ch8)

ships/characters: Goldie, Fergus, Downy, Fethry, Gladstone, Scrooge/Goldie words (ch8): ~1600 summary: Goldie comes to town to see Scrooge. Instead, she somehow manages to run into literally everyone else. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108943/

[1 & 2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Chapter 8 under the cut:

Sneaking over to Scrooge’s study wasn’t an issue. Goldie didn’t hear the sounds of Beakley or any kids moving around, didn’t see Duckworth’s ghost - finally she would just find Scrooge and talk to him for a bit and then leave.

Almost to the study door, Goldie frowned. Maybe she should hang around for a little longer than a bit after all the trouble she’d gone through to find him. But after spending so much time with the family already, just the idea of staying longer felt overwhelming. This was just supposed to be a quick visit, not some celebratory weekend vacation. There was no anniversary, no birthday, she just wanted to say hi.

She took a deep breath and opened the door, smiling brightly in preparation.

And...empty.

Goldie didn’t even bother to look around and check. This was just what she should’ve expected. She walked forward and sat in Scrooge’s desk chair, putting her feet up.

“Scroogey, Scroogey, Scroogey,” Goldie said in a sing-song tone. “Where could you be…”

She looked over the desk, checking out the headers of every paper. Eventually her eyes landed on a calendar, and Goldie excitedly sat up straight and grabbed it, using her pointer finger to find her way to the current date.

Nothing. It was blank. Looks like he had a free Saturday to do whatever he wanted. In this case: running around and avoiding his ex-everything. Or whatever he was calling her these days.

She sighed loudly and plopped her head down on the desk. Why was this so difficult? Was she having a bad day or was she just bad at this suddenly? She rotated her head so her cheek was shoved against the grain, beak tapping on the wood as she considered what to do next. There were so many rooms in this house, and knowing Scrooge...he probably didn’t waste any of them. He had reason to be in literally any room at any time. He could be looking for her by this point. Maybe she should listen to the hummingbird kid and just text him after all.

Goldie grabbed her cell phone out of her pocket and turned on the screen, taking a moment to enjoy her background. It was an old photo of Scrooge she’d taken when he was asleep and he looked particularly cute. He didn’t know about it and probably wouldn’t like the angle, but she could practically hear him snoring when she looked at it long enough.

She had a missed call and two texts she didn’t feel like responding to. What was the point of being on an adventure if she had responsibilities somewhere else?

Just as her thumb slid over to click on her messages, a phone started to ring.

Goldie jumped, not expecting the sound, and quickly scanned the room for the source. Scrooge had a shelf lined with different phones, all labeled, and one of them was ringing loudly.

After the fourth ring with no one coming to answer it, Goldie bit the inside of her cheek and exhaled. She stood up and walked over to the phones, staring at the one that wouldn’t stop ringing.

“Dismal Downs…?” Goldie said softly, trying to remember where she’d heard that name before. It sounded Scottish, for sure. Was it somewhere in Glasgow?

Despite all the traveling she’d done over the years, Goldie had never been to Glasgow. Going there without Scrooge’s invitation felt...wrong. Unlike breaking into his American home, which felt very very right.

Hesitantly, Goldie picked up the phone and held it up to her ear.

“...hello?”

“What?” the voice at the other end said in a thick, barely understandable accent. “Who’s this? The maid?”

“Not even close. Who’s this?”

“This is Fergus McDuck! Where’s Scrooge? His mother’s been waitin’ for him to call and the phone hasnae rang once!”

Goldie smiled. Now she remembered the name Dismal Downs. That’s where Scrooge’s magic immortal castle was keeping his family alive.

“Scrooge isn’t here, but I’ll be sure to let him know his Dear Ol’ Daddy’s upset,” she said smugly, imitating his accent.

The voice on the other end paused. “You’ve got quite the mouth on ya. Who is this?”

She considered, briefly, hanging up and not saying anything. But this was kind of fun. “The name’s Goldie.”

“Ach? Goldie? From Goldieburg?” He sounded genuinely confused.

“I’m sorry - Goldieburg?”

“Aye, Scrooge mentioned a Goldie back when he came to fix up the castle. Is that you?”

She felt an odd flutter thinking that he talked to his parents about her. What was that about? Just complaining? Especially back then...their relationship was still very new. He couldn’t have had many good things to say.

“Probably. I don’t think he knows any other Goldie.”

“Downy!”

“Yes, Fergus?” Goldie could hear a woman’s voice in the distance, similarly accented.

“Scrooge’s wee burd is on the phone!”

“Our Scroogey’s? Does she sound nice?”

“No, not in the least. Probably a good match for our son, then.”

“Oh, Fergus! Don’t be such a grump!”

Goldie wasn’t sure how to react to what she was hearing. They had the wrong idea, but also kind of not the wrong idea. It’s not like she needed to explain the whole situation to them. It’d probably confuse the old folks, or give them a very bad impression of their son.

“Let me talk to her!”

The mother of her long-time rival-slash-love-interest wanted to talk to her?

She hung up, grimacing. That started out funny, but quickly dissolved into too much. They were probably going to make a thousand assumptions that Scrooge would grill her about later. On the plus side, she was definitely going to ask about what the hell Goldieburg meant.

The phone started to ring again and Goldie bolted out of the room. The kids were still nowhere to be seen, it sounded like Beakley was back in the kitchen, and she didn’t feel the presence of any magic or ghosts.

It was time to continue checking the rooms one-by-one, then.

Goldie passed through the foyer, making her way to the other side of the mansion, when the front doorknob started to turn. She eyed the door suspiciously and waited to see who was about to enter. The front hallway wasn’t an ideal spot to greet Scrooge, but she’d take whatever she could get at this point.

The door swung open - it wasn’t locked? - and Goldie raised an eyebrow as she took in the image of the two ducks in front of her.

“I told you it’d be unlocked, Buddy!”

“Boy, Gladstone, when you’re right, you’re right!”

They looked up and made eye contact with Goldie. She stared back, unblinking, trying to figure out who in the world she’d just witnessed breaking into Scrooge’s mansion without breaking a sweat - she was supposed to be the only one who could do that.

The duck in the back smiled and walked forward a few steps, clearly about to say something to Goldie when his eye caught something on the ground. “Hey! Twenty dollars!” He leaned down and grabbed it.

Goldie gaped. How the hell had she not noticed that money? And also… “Wait a second, are you...Gladstone?”

He looked up at her, looked her up and down, and then tapped his beak. “Last time I checked! And you... look vaguely familiar!”

The other duck came up behind him and looked over Goldie as well. “Gladstone...don’t you know who this is?”

“Not at all!” Gladstone said more enthusiastically than necessary.

“This is...Mrs. Beakley!”

“Ooohh -”

“No I am not. ” Goldie crossed her arms over her chest. “Goldie. O’Gilt? And you must be Fethry, then. You two have certainly grown. What are you doing here?”

“Goldie! That’s it!” Gladstone plopped a fist into his open hand for emphasis. “I remember you kidnapping me once!”

She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t a kidnapping. Just...kid-borrowing.”

“Oh, oh! I remember that, too!” Fethry clapped his hands together. “I remember crying very very much.”

“Yes, there was lots of annoying crying,” Goldie said. “But I needed some good luck that day.”

Gladstone shrugged again. “Well, no one else would be able to help with that! And I won so many free pizzas.”

“Donald was so mad he almost tore up my hat!” Fethry laughed for a few seconds, before suddenly stopping and staring out into nothing.

The other two stared at him, expecting him to say something else, but he stayed quiet.

“Right. So, speaking of Donald, where is he?” Gladstone pointed at Goldie. “We’re supposed to be meeting him for lunch!”

“Oh, really?” Goldie asked with a raised eyebrow. “Last time I saw him, he was gardening by the pool. Didn’t look like he had late lunch plans.” She looked up at a nearby clock. “Very late lunch plans.”

“I got lost!” Fethry said with a smile.

“And I didn’t really want to be here,” Gladstone added. “But we have a Della-related surprise to talk about, so!”

She sighed and pointed behind her towards the back of the house. “He’s that way. Just go.”

Gladstone frowned. “That’s a lot of walking.”

“I’ve got you, Gladdy!” Fethry reached over and picked up his cousin, slinging him over his shoulder. “To Donald!”

“To Donald!” Gladstone repeated, happily lounging.

Goldie watched them walk away and sighed. Alright. She was giving up. There was no one left to ask except one person who she knew was just a few steps away. So what was the point in putting it off any longer?

She slowly made her way to the kitchen.

[aroworlds]

Fiction: The Pride Conspiracy, Part One

December isn't the best time of year for a trans aromantic like Rowan Ross, although—unlike his relatives—his co-workers probably won't give him gift cards to women's clothing shops. How does he explain to cis people that while golf balls don't trigger his dysphoria, he wants to be seen as more than a masculine stereotype? Nonetheless, he thinks he has this teeth-gritted endurance thing figured out: cissexism means he needn't fear his relatives asking him about dating, and he has the perfect idea for Melanie in the office gift exchange. He can survive gifts and kin, right? Isn't playing along with expectation better than enduring unexpected consequences?

Rowan, however, isn't the only aromantic in the office planning to surprise a co-worker.

To survive the onslaught of ribbon and cellophane, Rowan's going to have to get comfortable with embracing the unknown.

Contains: A trans allo-frayro trying to grit his teeth through the holidays, scheming aro co-workers, a whole lot of cross-stitch, another moment of aromantic discovery, and many, many mugs.

Content Advisory: A story that focuses on some of the ways Western gift-giving culture enables cissexism and a rigid gender binary, taking place in the context of commercialised, secular-but-with-very-Christian-underpinnings Christmas. Please expect many references to said holiday in an office where Damien hasn't figured out how to run a gift exchange without subjecting everyone to Santa, along with characters who have work to do in recognising that not everybody celebrates Christmas.

There are no depictions or mentions of sexual attraction beyond the words "allosexual" and "bisexual" and a passing reference to allo-aro antagonism, but there are non-detailed references to Rowan's previous experiences with and attitudes towards romance and romantic attraction as a frayromantic. Please also expect casual references to amatonormativity and other shapes of cissexism.

Length: 4, 914 words (part one of two).

Note: You'll need to have read The Vampire Conundrum for many references to make sense.

Rowan should be assumed an Australian character in an Australian city. Our Christmas, therefore, involves hot weather, short sleeves, barbecues and confusion at certain holiday traditions common in the Northern Hemisphere. 

They’re aromantic. How isn’t he obligated to help decorate her desk in as many pride-related ways as possible? 

“It’s Secret Santa slash December Holiday Gift Exchange!” Damien emerges from the meeting room, shaking a paper-scrap-filled jar with the gleeful attitude of a toddler attacking a pile of presents. In order to give the occasion suitable gravitas, he draped a rope of red tinsel over his shoulders, the fronds glittering in the flicker-prone lighting. “Come gather!”

Rowan looks up from his computer, biting back a groan. This isn’t a surprise, given that Shelby answered his interview questions about “workplace culture” with descriptions of their celebrating capitalist-infused Christian holidays, and the office more than lives up to that promise. A tree sits on the front counter, its branches crammed with baubles. Tinsel hangs on everything from which tinsel can be hung and rests in snake-like coils over the computer towers, screens, desk partitions and the large corkboard. Ribbon-wrapped pencils topped with felt trees, stars and stockings flowered, overnight, from everyone’s pen mugs; Melanie gave Rowan three of them for his frayro mug. Every desk features a red bowl of tree-shaped marshmallows, candy canes or that weird Christmas lolly mix common in dollar shops.

Only the lack of music renders bearable this explosion of festivity. Damien said he drew that line last year after Melanie and Shelby alternated between Michael Bublé and Josh Groban’s Christmas CDs.

Rowan doesn’t want to think about that sublime horror.

Christmas to him means slipping a few TSO tracks into his melodic metal playlists and gritting his teeth until the new year.

“O come all ye faithful,” Melanie sings, spinning her chair around. Every day this week she’s donned a different Christmas-themed T-shirt; today’s features a screen-printed Rudolph head with an apple-sized nose made from red minky fleece. Rowan doesn’t understand the American “ugly Christmas jumper” thing—why?—but Melanie appears to be replicating the trend via short sleeves and jersey knits.

Damien jerks his elbow at the largest whiteboard, half filled with the Banned Holiday Decorations List—items including “music, carols, hymns and singing”, “all types of fake snow” and “Cadbury Crème Eggs”. “Didn’t we talk about carols?”

Rowan doesn’t want to be accused of being a dreadful, fun-loathing millennial about which too many articles have been written on dislike of office gift exchanges … but he doesn’t know how not to be one, either. Why do people like this? Buying presents for people who aren’t strangers but aren’t friends, hoping that his attempt isn’t too generic only to open something tailored to feminine cliché ... followed by the apologetic explanation or justification that Rowan isn’t easy to shop for.

Can’t he save himself fifteen bucks and skip the disaster?

He’s never understood how he presents a difficulty that isn’t cissexism and a lack of imagination: buy him good thread, expensive coffee, dress socks, a nice mug, food storage containers or fancy kitchenware. He’ll even take a cheap box of chocolates, since his housemates will eat anything should they believe it food. Just get him something that isn’t a floral-patterned bath set followed by the hand-wringing apology that the giver just doesn’t know what to get someone as confusing as Rowan!

Why don’t they ask him what he wants?

He’s over spending money and time on gift exchanges only to receive cissexism, dysphoria or stereotype wrapped in paper and tied with a bow.

Rowan draws a breath and slips his fingers under his thighs. He should have sent Damien an email when Melanie started decorating, but Rowan was thinking about pushing their print date back two weeks and not thinking about Mum’s out-of-nowhere request that Rowan attend the family Christmas. “Uh … Damien? Can I … quick word?”

Why did he get himself a new psychologist? One who says terrible words like assertiveness?

“Give us a minute.” Tinsel rustling, Damien crouches beside Rowan’s chair. “Will here do?”

If everyone overhears, Rowan can pretend he’s talking to one person while knowing they all benefit from his explanation. Besides, going into the meeting room makes this a thing. “Yeah. Um. I … I don’t usually get the right presents from people in gift exchanges. By which I mean ... presents that aren’t a reminder that they think me female, and if they give me enough nail polish and heart-shaped jewellery and glittery handbags, I’ll admit it. I don’t want that? Really don’t want that?”

Why do his parents want to play at being a happy family? Does Mum want to show off to Uncle Keith and his new wife? Have they forgotten how badly last Christmas went? Or is this just more cissexist assumption that Rowan will discard his masculinity when needed? If they behave as though Rowan should fit their expectations, will he—eventually—surrender to them?

I’m not being difficult because I want my masculinity and transness respected. I’m not...

Melanie leans over to poke Shelby’s shoulder, her bright red lips forming a ring.

Damien blinks, hesitating as if he doesn’t know how best to respond. “That ... sounds like my niece’s favourite birthday. Although she took the bag, put one of my sister’s dumbbells inside and swung it at the boy over the road who wouldn't stop calling her pretty. And then made an army of neighbourhood girls wielding heavy unicorn bags.” He shakes his head. “I mean that … you obviously aren’t a certain kind of eight-year-old or into glitter, so...”

If only Rowan had the nerve to do that to Aunt Laura! “I bet he never did that again.”

“No. I’ll make sure … that the person who has you gets you something appropriate.”

Inappropriately-feminine gifts aren’t his only difficulty. Rowan doesn’t how to voice something so complex (to cis, gender-conforming people) about gender and gift-giving without sounding like he’s complaining for the sake of complaining—the demanding, difficult trans man of his parents’ accusations. Most often he endures a cis female celebrity’s latest perfume, but well-intended “accepting” people give him an Old Spice gift set—acknowledging his masculinity at the cost of his personality. How do cis people not chafe at gift-giving traditions that assume people can be reduced down to one of two categories with narrow behaviours and interests ascribed to each?

It’s easier to draw the line at gifts that only avoid being the embodiment of the giver’s cissexism and donate everything else, as much as Rowan yearns for one year with a good present he doesn’t buy himself.

Will cis people ever understand that being trans means holding back on responding to cis nonsense?

“Thanks. Yeah, thanks.”

“Secret Santa slash December Holiday Gift Exchange rules!” Damien straightens, shaking the jar; paper rattles against glass. “Twenty-dollar limit, keep it fun, don’t give anything inappropriate for a professional environment. I want to be eating mince pies, not taking people into the meeting room for discussions on adulthood. We exchange on the last day, December 20.” He reaches into the jar, the neck a tight fit for his hands, and tweezers out a folded piece of paper before handing it to Rowan.

Damien shakes the jar again before offering another slip to Melanie and then Shelby.

Don’t people draw names themselves from the bowl or jar? Nobody else seems concerned by this lapse—Melanie starts laughing when she sees her name—so Rowan shrugs and opens his, deciding it must be normal enough.

The Aro Gods must be inclined to a little seasonal kindness, for he sees “Melanie” written in Damien’s handwriting.

No need to struggle through generic alternatives like food or wine; pride pins will make her happy enough. A pen? A mini aro flag? Choosing may be Rowan’s worst problem, but he can get her a few things and give her whatever’s over the limit after the exchange.

They’re aromantic. How isn’t he obligated to help decorate her desk in as many pride-related ways as possible?

“Rowan!” Melanie bustles over; he quickly slides his paper up his sleeve. She makes metallic jangling noises—words like “ringing” or “pealing” don’t apply—as she moves, thanks to a gold chain bracelet decorated with small bells at each link. Matching earrings dangle from her ears, clinking out of tune with the ones at her wrist. “Can I ask you something?”

He nods, hoping she’ll let pass unremarked his description of holiday cissexism.

“Where did you buy your flag patches? I want one. Well, maybe more than one, because there’s the aro flag, and the ace flag, and maybe one of the aro-ace flags, but I haven’t decided which one I like best since there’s several that are nice, and...”

Once-in-a-lifetime inspiration hits Rowan with finger-twitching force. “I don’t know,” he lies once Melanie runs out of steam. “Uh … a friend gave them to me and ... I don’t know where they bought them. Online, probably?” He swallows and tries for distraction, gambling his poor ability for falsehood against Melanie’s likely ignorance. “Maybe look on Etsy? I’d look on Etsy.”

“Etsy? What’s that?”

“Handcraft eBay,” he says in relief, thinking through his thread stash. “Where people sell handmade things. I don’t know when I’m seeing my friend next, but I can ask...?”

He’ll need purples, greens, greys, black, white—oh, and blues! A little orange, a little yellow. Has he enough fabric? What about time? Should he do the main ones first and then others as he can squeeze them in?

On the way home tonight, he’ll start by stopping at his local sewing store.

***

Rowan hits “send” on an email to Damien, ignoring Mum’s latest text, as Shelby bounds up to his desk. Like Melanie, she’s added Christmas T-shirts to her daily ensemble; unlike Melanie, Shelby’s T-shirts appear to come from a department store’s children’s section. Today’s shirt shows a cute-but-scientifically-inaccurate dinosaur in a Santa hat holding a red box. Also unlike Melanie, Shelby hasn’t added earrings, pins, necklaces, bangles or socks in honour of the season. “Yeah?”

Damien added “battery and USB-powered light-up objects” to the List after an office vote provoked by a flashing necklace that resembled miniature string lights.

Shelby whispers, meaning that she speaks in a raspier tone with volume enough that her standing on the other side of a crowded football oval needn’t impede one’s hearing. In fairness, Rowan has heard her speak over a hundred gossiping Year 7 students until they surrendered to the stubbornness of an older woman who doesn’t go to bed caring what they think of her. “Can you go through all the … the identities? Can you show them to me and tell me what colours go with them? Do they all have their own colours?”

Rowan can only sit and gape.

“Please? I need someone to go through them all.”

He lunges for his half-filled mug, hoping his perpetual need for coffee conceals his surprise. “You mean pride flags? Queer pride flags?”

“Please.” Shelby nods, grips his arm and gives a meant-as-comforting nutcracker-like squeeze before lowering her hand to fidget with her phone—a device likely dug up with the fossils from the dinosaur on her shirt. It doesn’t have a cover; he guesses she covered the back with multiple layers of washi tape coated in (yellowing) clear nail polish. He doesn’t ask why. “Maybe you can start with the ones you use, and that one Melanie has, and then tell me the other ones? There aren’t that many, are there?”

Rowan, lukewarm coffee in his mouth and heading down his gullet, chokes.

Several moments of spluttering and coughing, aided by Shelby’s enthusiastic back-pounding, pass before he can answer. “Uh … there’s lots, actually. Lots.” He considers explaining about Tumblr before deciding on the appropriate answer: a thousand kinds of nope. “Do you want gender ones, or sexuality ones, or aromantic ones, or...?”

Shelby’s blank, brow-creased expression shows that, if she read Rowan’s leaflet, his emails and the hand-outs provided by Damien’s trainers, the knowledge hasn’t stuck with her.

(They weren’t better than Rowan’s own and only mentioned aromanticism as a way of being asexual.)

“The ones you and Melanie use...?” She lowers her voice to a point where someone may, in theory, be unable to hear her from the other side of the room. “I want to get Melanie a little extra … something, this year. With a flag, maybe?” She jerks her elbow in the direction of Melanie’s mug, currently filled with something smelling of camomile and dish-water. “But I should know more about the other ones, too. Like yours. Can you show them all to me?”

There’s no way in this tinselled hell that Melanie can’t hear Shelby, yet Melanie appears engrossed in deleting emails.

Last week, Rowan said “aromantic” once to their newest volunteer in a conversation about the pride flags on their website. Seconds later, Melanie materialised from the hallway, passed over one of Rowan’s leaflets and introduced herself as aro-ace before giving a five-point rundown on ways to avoid casual amatonormativity—not that she’s yet comfortable saying the word—in the workplace. There’s no way she’s contemplating the mysteries of her trash folder while Rowan talks to Shelby about aromantic pride flags! Breathing “aro” aloud is now akin to summoning a demon—one revelling in the discovery of the identity that makes belated sense of her life.

“You want me to show you aromantic flags?” Rowan asks to clarify, baffled.

Shelby beams at him. “Yes, please.”

Melanie, frowning, deletes an email.

Did Damien have a word with her? Did the volunteer complain?

Rowan can’t say that he wants to play tour guide through the world of queer vexillology, but Shelby has gone five weeks without saying the phrase “you trans people” and two months without reassuring Rowan on the subject of pronoun-correction. He also knows Melanie and Shelby are friends outside of work, bonding over stage shows and music. If Shelby wants to support Melanie in her aromanticism, how can Rowan refuse?

While Rowan sat there planning the politest way to navigate the glaring error in the trainers’ leaflets, Melanie stood up, exclaimed that aromanticism isn’t the same thing as asexuality and demanded that they do some reading before engaging in “obvious aro denial”. He owes her. She scares him a little, but he owes her.

(Should Rowan master the ability to handle conversations and presentations, he may consider becoming a sensitivity trainer. That two-day workshop, while decent enough on gender and sexuality, left him again concluding that most queer alloros have no idea how to reference and include aromanticism in their conversations about queerness.)

Another Mum-authored text flashes up on his phone, displaying the words “Christmas”, “clothing” and “appropriately”.

No, no and hell no.

“Yeah, okay.” He bends down to grab his satchel, tucked against the left-hand side of his desk. A decent collection of patches and badges now covers the front flap, including his cursed-but-memorable “aro” patch. “That’s the trans pride flag, with the blue, pink and white, and beside it is the bisexual flag. The flag with the greens and black is the aromantic flag, and the allo-aro flag has the greens and gold. It’s pretty much the same as the aro flag, except with yellow and gold instead of grey and black.” He points at each patch as he moves through his explanation. “Allo—allosexual—aromantics are aros who experience sexual attraction.”

He’ll stick to simple definitions with Shelby, even if they lack ideal expansiveness.

Shelby nods, smiling.

“For me, it means I’m aromantic and bisexual. Aro-aces, like Melanie, are aromantic and asexual, meaning she doesn’t experience sexual attraction.” He almost asks her if she remembers what “aromanticism” means before realising that he’ll sound like a condescending primary-school teacher. “This flag with the blues, white and grey is the frayromantic flag, which designates the specific way I’m aro. The flag on Melanie’s mug—”

Shelby leans against his desk, her grey braid trailing over one arm. “So you have an aromantic flag and an allosexual aromantic flag? A special aromantic flag?”

Are they heading towards the sort of conversation that involves anger over “making up” identities outside the speaker’s reckoning of acceptable? Or does she mean “distinct”? “Ah … kind of? The green and black flag represents all aros—Melanie and me. The green and gold one’s just for me, and I don’t use her blue and orange one.”

For the first time in living memory, Melanie pays Rowan and Shelby no attention.

“I see! You want to reflect different types of aro.” Shelby almost says the word without unusual stress; Rowan considers applauding her but decides he won’t risk undermining his point on avoiding excessive overreaction to queer terminology. “Do you ever put the flags together? Like if you want to be both things at once?”

When isn’t he the state of multiple identities at once? Rowan decides she means “represent” instead of “be” and nods. “Yeah? Some people put a heart with the stripes of the aro flag in the middle of the trans or bi flags, but I don’t like that because using a heart to represent us all is a bit … eh. You know, heart, love, love hearts? Lots of people don’t care, though. I’ve also seen folks split them in an image, or have the stripes fade into each other. Like trans stripes fading into aro stripes.”

“And you like that better?” Shelby blinks, her blunt nails tracing the edge of the case. “Would Melanie like that? The aromantic flag fading into another one?”

There’s no way Melanie didn’t hear that—and no reason for her to say silent! Last month she told Rowan and Shelby to get mint chocolate cake for her birthday after walking in on them debating sponge versus cheesecake in the meeting room!

(Sponge, in Rowan’s opinion, is the classic cake format.)

“Yeah. It shows my identities together without using symbolism I find awkward.” Rowan lowers his voice, leaning closer to Shelby. “Melanie will probably go for the aromantic flag fading into or combined with the asexual flag, if you’re doing something with two flags. I don’t think she’d be into hearts, but a split image or fading? That’d work.”

Shelby straightens, beaming, and gives Rowan another firm arm-squeeze. “That’s great! Thank you so much for helping, Rowan!”

“Don’t you want to know more about aro-ace flags...?”

“No, that’s great!” Shelby, heading towards her own desk, no longer attempts to speak at anything not normal volume. “Aromantic into asexual! I’ll remember that!”

As Shelby turns, he catches a glimpse of the cracked screen on her phone—or, more specifically, the movement of her hand as she presses stop on her recording app.

Is that legal? It surely isn’t normal? Or is she an auditory learner, meaning she’ll learn best by playing the recording over … but in that case, why not say so? He could have directed her to YouTube videos and podcasts! Perhaps, though, she only shows her ignorance in digital etiquette, in the same way Rowan took Melanie aside to explain that the use of caps lock for the body of a promotional email violates good manners as much as—more than!—she thinks signing a form in red ballpoint? Should he complain about something suggestive of her willingness to understand him?

Rowan stares, shrugs and shakes his head as a third text pops up.

Sometimes it’s easier to just not ask.

Too bad that can’t apply as easily to family.

***

Rowan stands, yawns and stretches. His lunch half-hour beckons: sunshine spent with food, cross-stitch and a flock of pigeons tame enough to perch on the far end of his bench. Since today involved apologetic emails followed by a contrite phone call to his goddess amongst printers, time free of people feels like looming perfection. Just him, the pigeons, a sewing needle and the homemade pasty he hid from Matt inside a bag of frozen peas.

Any day in which he gets to enjoy his own cooking can’t be too terrible.

Perhaps he should do as his psychologist says: put a chest freezer in his bedroom and a lock on his door.

“Rowan!” Damien, his hair tousled enough to make Rowan think of a woolly mammoth in a sharp suit, carries a plate of something smelling like honey and chicken into the office. “While Melanie’s out, can you show me your mug shop? You said there’s a lot of aro-ace flags, right? Or would she want one like yours, the green one? I don’t get her something like your blue and green shield one, though?” He shrugs and sets the plate down on Rowan’s desk. “My wife’s friends with her sister and we got invited out, but there’s another swap. I don’t want to get her the wrong thing. Do you mind?”

At least Damien does the sensible thing of asking while Melanie’s out on lunch. Maybe this won’t take too long: Damien’s a terrible photographer with unreasonable expectations of Photoshop, but he does know how to buy things online.

“Yeah. Hold on.” Rowan opens up his browser just as his phone beeps. Nope, ignoring that. “I’ll show you what mugs I think she’d want.”

He hadn’t realised how many people here are friends with Melanie outside of work. It must be nice to have a regular social life that isn’t “being at work” and “sighing at housemates”, but there’s advantages in possessing the short holiday shopping list of family, a work gift exchange and a couple of friends. Besides, does anyone want one’s co-workers to know what happens at an outside party?

“Don’t ignore your phone because of me.”

“It’s Dad.” Since Rowan can’t find a pithy or amusing way to explain that Dad’s text message will be a guilt-trip ordering Rowan to come to Christmas for the sake of the family’s happiness followed by a second guilt-trip explaining how much his refusal to confirm has upset Mum, he just shakes his head.

You talked about this with the psychologist. Guilt. Trip.

He made an appointment for the second week of January; he should have made one in December as well.

“That bad?”

He can’t remember the specifics of his rant that day atop the desk, but he must have suggested at an interesting relationship with his parents. “Yeah.”

Did they forget telling Rowan that if he doesn’t like how they treat him, he can leave? They told Rowan that he isn’t welcome while he remains intolerant of them—while I expect them to treat me as I deserve. He left. Now they want him back to smile for the family photos?

What’s worse? Enduring a day of misgendering, deadnaming and cissexism, which shouldn’t result in unknown voyages of horror if he bites his tongue? Or avoiding short-term discomfort while gaining the long-term torment of the family’s schooling Rowan in appropriate Ross respect for blood and holidays? What chance is there of avoiding harassment if he doesn’t go?

Maybe he can leave off shaving for a week before Christmas and turn up with his new, albeit patchy, facial hair while wearing an op-shop debutante gown, so he “dresses appropriately” and “doesn’t confuse the relatives” as requested.

How many truckloads of Valium will he need for that?

“Rowan? Are you okay?” Damien, now sitting on an office chair, peers at him as though waiting for Rowan to do anything more than stare at the computer screen.

“Ugh. Sorry. Just thinking.” Rowan sighs and types in the shop’s name, bringing up their website, and then opens a second tab to another archiving different pride flags.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Damien asks in that gruffly-gentle voice, one that makes Rowan want to smash his fist through a window.

“Yeah, no.” Rowan draws a breath and points at the screen with a hand a too trembly for his liking. “So you’re going to want to know what flags represent what, because there’s a drop-down menu where you can choose from different flags...”

It’s easier to talk, easier to run through all the different flags in a depth of explanation Damien doesn’t request, easier to think about something that isn’t family—a subject with complexity enough to distract but without provocation enough to distress.

He doesn’t know if Damien asks questions from curiosity or kindness, but Rowan’s pasty becomes pastry crumbs scattered over his desk and keyboard; Damien’s chicken, half-eaten, sits cooling on its plate.

“So cupioromantic is the one where you want the relationship but you don’t feel romance?” Damien frowns and runs both oversized hands through his hair, now resembling a befuddled bear emerging after a long hibernation. “Why have a word for that? I mean, everyone feels like it isn’t one of those movies and dates anyway, so why specify that?”

“Where you don’t feel romantic attraction but desire a romantic relationship,” Rowan says, telling himself that Damien unknowingly regurgitates the tired “demiromanticism is normal” argument. Isn’t this better than looking at the fifth text message? “Some people need it to be a word. Movies aren’t that divorced from reality. They’re … too easy, too glossy, too perfect, too unrealistic, but...”

He sighs. Not dating brings many benefits, but Rowan has to admit that he misses the fun of falling in love, even if trouble always follows. Misses the fun of dreaming, hoping and fantasising; misses the bright, happy glow of being caught up in someone else. At risk of being considered a bad aro, he likes that glorious limerence pushing him to navigate people despite his gibbering anxiety! In some ways, knowing he’s capable of falling in love over and over feels heady and powerful; amatonormativity more than the nature of Rowan’s frayromanticism bestows difficulty on its aftermath.

I want to fall in love with you ... and after getting to know you, do it again with someone else, all the best bits of romance’s beginning on eternal repeat.

Instead, he avoids dating and the inevitable development of his partner’s hurt, surrendering to a world where his shape of attraction isn’t acceptable or reasonable. Albeit with a trace of bitterness that frayromanticism will be easier to navigate should Rowan not be an anxiety-plagued, bisexual trans man!

Of course, discarding romance makes pursuing his shape of sexual attraction unacceptable and unreasonable...

“How are they real? Nobody just sees someone and falls in love like that—”

“Dude, dude, I’ve fallen in love like that.” Rowan shakes his head and launches into the speech that’s the spiritual duty of any card-carrying aromantic: “Do you fall in love after you get to know someone? After they love you back? Do you know what ‘fall in love’ means to you? Because it’s easy to name all sorts of feelings ‘love’ and think they’re romantic when the world says you have to be alloromantic. It’s even easier to not be romantically attracted and not know! Have you thought about it?”

Damien, his eyes so wide that he reminds Rowan of a zebrafish with a brown wig, shakes his head.

“I swear, alloros like romance movies because while they’re a … a simplified, idealistic version of romance, they’re close enough to what people feel—or think they’re supposed to feel—that they … ring, resonate. They wouldn’t do that if it were complete invention. Just like science fiction isn’t real but talks enough about human experiences to have meaning to human audiences. Unreal, in so many ways, but just real enough. So—”

Damien holds up both hands, palms facing Rowan. “Stop. Stop.”

Now the anxious part of Rowan’s brain realises he’s lecturing at his supervisor in a way no need to avoid thinking of his family justifies; he gulps, fingers trembling. While the office code of conduct doesn’t specify things like unwanted speeches questioning another person’s belief in their romantic attraction, he doubts this acceptable behaviour. “I … shit. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I just...”

Will he ever stop causing a mess at work?

“You’re talking so fast,” Damien says, slow and careful in the way of a man talking to a panicked horse, “that I can’t keep up.” He sighs and runs one hand through his hair. “This isn’t something I thought we’d be talking about! I just wanted to check that everything was right...” He shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound annoyed or outraged. Just bewildered. “Okay. Right. What about all those sorts of things that we think are love? What do you mean by that?”

At some point during the resulting afternoon, Rowan sends an email thanking his printer for her willingness to amend the job queue, ignores his brother’s entry in the competition to provoke the most seasonally-appropriate guilt, and scribbles a note to ask the higher-ups if they’ll spring for a basket of expensive coffee and chocolates sent to said printer.

Damien nods several times, takes dot points on a flyer print-out and the back of the report draft for last week’s holiday event, asks more questions and promises that he’ll remind the higher-ups of their involvement in submitting January’s flyers two weeks late. After eating the rest of his re-heated honey chicken at Rowan’s desk and narrating the story of how his future wife followed him from pub to pub during a crawl for his brother’s buck’s night, Damien concludes that he only experiences attraction for someone after they express attraction for him.

Melanie, having rested her arms on the back of Damien’s chair to overhear the last half of the conversation, gives him a smothering hug and welcomes him to “the quiver” before cackling at Damien’s blank look.

Find a recipro mug, Rowan later scribbles on the bottom of his to-do-list.

At least that job doesn’t involve relatives.

[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

Crazy Rock and Roll Stories: Random Quarantine Thoughts

1. Members of 2Pac Shakur’s group, The Outlawz, upon his death smoked his ashes. I guess picture me rollin’ your ashes in a joint.

2. Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee of Motley Crue once bet each other, who could go longer without taking a shower. The bet would go on for a period of a few months. Why would you bet on that?

3. David Bowie in 1976 recorded the album, Station to Station. He was using so much cocaine at the time that he does not even remember recording the album whatsoever. In his defense, he was not eating and doing lines all day long, so you can not really blame him.

4. Upon Gram Parsons death, his father had decided to go against his wishes and give him a funeral. His manager knew that Parsons wanted to be cremated, so they stole his body, hightailed it into the desert, and set it on fire. The crazy thing was no arrests were made and he only received a $300 fine.

5. Prince used to go door-to-door in Minnesota as a Jehovah’s Witness. This was after he had become famous for his music. The artist formally known as Prince had the name of Brother Nelson when he was a Jehovah’s Witness. I wonder if he ever did it door-to-door with Michael Jackson?

6. Rick James made his debut to the television world on American Bandstand, while performing two songs and an interview with Dick Clark for an hour. People did not realize until later when he mentioned it in his autobiography that he was on quite a bit of cocaine at the time. The ironic thing is the fact that he sang about Mary Jane that day.

7. Everyone probably knows that John Bonham died from his own vomit. Perhaps, they don’t know that it was after consuming 40 vodkas throughout the course of the day. He was doing quadruple shots while recording with the rest of the band. That’s fairly insane.

8. This rumor has never ever been confirmed, but it is more than likely probably true. The Beatles were named members of the British Empire, and John Leonard mentioned that they smoked a joint in Buckingham Palace. George Harrison later denied this, but considering the fact that they probably smoked joints everywhere imaginable at the time.

9. Phil Spector once locked the Ramones in his studio forcing them to play music until 4:30 in the morning. Based on his other antics well known in the past including possibly murder, this should come as no surprise to anyone. He also once pointed a loaded gun at Leonard Cohen’s head. everybody knows that Phil Spector’s gun is loaded I guess.

10. This was obviously prior to the #metoo movement. In the 1970’s, Steven Tyler convinced a 14 year old girl’s parents to sign her over to him, so that they could date each other. If that happened today, you would not hear from the band Aerosmith ever again.

11. Guns N’ Roses guitarist Slash had a mountain lion as a pet. His list of exotic pets would not end there as he also owned 100 snakes that lived in his living room.

12. Zakk Wylde of Black Label Society once drank so much that it actually saved his life. One night he endured not one, but three blood clots that would have killed any sober person. Yet, due to the amount of alcohol in his blood, it was so thin that the clots passed right through and saved his life.

13. Billy Idol was partying in a hotel for three weeks straight in Thailand. He caused lots of damage to the hotel, which required the military to step in to escort him to the airport and out of the country. Yet, he refused to leave the hotel, which prompted them to tranquilize him and take the singer to the airport on a stretcher.

14. During a birthday party at the Holiday Inn in Detroit, Michigan, drummer Keith Moon of the Who drove a Rolls-Royce into the hotel swimming pool. He was subsequently banned for life from every Holiday Inn in the world. Apparently, he would not be doing any Holiday Inn Express commercials either.

15. On an airplane, Izzy Stradlin of Guns N’ Roses did not want to wait any longer to use the bathroom. He went ahead and just urinated in the aisle of the airplane leading to his arrest.

16. James Brown once pulled a shotgun on people at his house for using his toilet. He would later lead police on a chase that led to him serving some time in prison. All you can say about this is PCP can be one hell of a drug.

17. Rod Stewart really loved cocaine, but he worried about doing damage to his nasal passages affecting his ability to sing. For years, he took cocaine anally using suppositories. I guess all you can say is that literally kicks ass I guess.

18. Ace Frehley of Kiss once drank an entire bottle of perfume when he realized that there was alcohol in it. He was clearly intoxicated at the time, and apparently a liquor store run was out of the question.

19. Slash once ran around an Arizona golf course screaming eventually breaking a glass door because he thought the alien from Predator was trying to kill him. He was so high that he even used a maid as a shield from the supposed predator. Unfortunately, Arnold Schwarzenegger was not available at the time to help.

20. Ozzy Osbourne was once hanging out with Motley Crue at a hotel pool. He was so upset when told there was no cocaine for him to do that he snorted a line of ants from the ground as a substitute. No words.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hi steph!! im looking for some domestic johnlock, could you direct me to some?? i want my heart to burn from the domesticity bahaha

Hi Lovely!!

BWAH OF COURSE I HAVE DOMESTIC JOHNLOCK. A huge list of them in fact, and I just checked my offline list and I can totally update the lists with some new fics I’ve recently filed! :D

DOMESTIC JOHNLOCK Pt. 5

See also:

Platonics and Domestics

Platonics & Domestics Pt 2 / Hugs, Cuddles & Kisses Pt. 3 / Tooth-Rotting Fluff Pt. 5 / Love Confessions, Slow Burn & Dev. Rel. Pt. 2 / Established Relationship Pt. 3

Platonics / Bromance / Friendship Pt. 3 

Domestic Johnlock Pt. 4

And When The Night Is Over by Simply Isnt On (K, 329 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Platonic Bed Sharing / Not Slash) – Sherlock and John sleep together.

You Should Have Let Me Sleep! by theraggedypond (T, 1,542 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Sleepy Sherlock, Cranky Sherlock, Domestics) – After a three day case with no sleep and hardly any food, Sherlock is recovering from it by playing comatose. John finds out what happens when you wake up London’s favorite consulting detective.

Happy Birthday John by Starlight05 (K, 1,580 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Friendship, John’s Birthday, Shopping, 3rd Person POV John) – When an important date comes up, Sherlock finds himself doing something he never has before - shopping! But will he succeed and manage to get his best friend a present?

Baskerville After Dark by Ttime42 (T, 1,921 w., 1 Ch. || THoB, Friendship, Humor, Bed Sharing, Missing Scenes, Cranky John, Cuddles) – John and Sherlock have to share a bed at Baskerville. Gen, but can be preslash.

Nothing Left Untouched by ForeverShippingJohnlock (K+, 2,617 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Romance, Bed Sharing, Oblivious Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Grumpy John, Fluff and Cuddles) – Sherlock rearranges the flat. So what if John’s bedroom is now a research library. It’s not like John needs a bedroom, he can share with Sherlock. They’re friends and John has obviously slept in close quarters with men before and it’s not like Sherlock sleeps much anyway. It’ll be fine.

Insomnia by TheSingingGirl (K+, 2,635 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Humour, Bed Sharing, Sleepy Sherlock) – Sleep is merely the next frontier in what has become the battle to keep Sherlock alive. It’s because of this that John ends up in bed with a sociopath.

The General Idea by agirlsname (T, 3,022 w., 1 Ch. || Retirement, Promise of Forever / Proposal, POV John, First Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soft Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Crying / Emotional Sherlock, Love Confessions) – After twenty years of friendship, John is used to Sherlock acting weirdly. But the news Sherlock finally brings himself to deliver change the carefully built dynamics between them, and John realises it’s time to act.

It’s Just Another Birthday by Vintage Tea Party (K, 3,207 w., 2 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Sherlock’s Birthday, Sherlock 3rd Person POV) – When John makes a birthday cake for Sherlock he thinks its an innocent enough gesture. But nothing is ever normal with Sherlock and this isn’t just another birthday.

Human Body Pillow by Lunavere (K, 4,122 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Five and Ones, Sleepy Johnlock, Bed Sharing) – A story about the five times John fell asleep on Sherlock, and the one time Sherlock fell asleep on him.

Sleepless nights by El loopy (T, 5,467 w., 3 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Panic Attack, Worried Sherlock) – Sherlock has a nightmare and John wants to know what it was about. Set during season 1. Three-shot.

On Favors and Keeping Score by Ewebie (G, 7,622 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Fluff, John Whump) –  John woke up to the horribly unpleasant sound of his clock alarm. Which meant he’d slept through his phone’s alarm. And for a moment he glared blearily at the noisemaker before smacking at it with his palm. Ugh, he felt like rubbish. The back of his throat was burning with the irritation that heralded a proper dose, his nose was threatening to drip every few seconds, and he had the uncomfortable flush that normally suggested a fever. Nothing high, just uncomfortable. Nothing deadly, just irritating. Nothing worth calling in sick with, just a full day of discomfort in the face of other people’s discomfort. It was going to be a day where he was forced to bite his tongue from telling people off. “You’re not as sick as I am, so off you pop.” Part 7 of Tumblr Shorts

Sometimes When We Touch by kedgeree (M, 7,755 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Kiss/Time, Inappropriate Giggling, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Virgin Sherlock, John Whump, Touching) – John might be touching Sherlock a little more often than is strictly necessary. Sherlock probably hasn’t even noticed. Right…?

You fit me, Sherlock Holmes by orphan_account (G, 10,077 w., 1 Ch. || It’s An Experiment, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Questionable Science) – An unfortunate series of events leads to John accepting being a part of Sherlock’s study in physical intimacy. As the days pass by, John realizes he might be in for more than he bargained for. He doesn’t entirely mind.

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalized Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by “accident”, it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

A Silver Sixpence by _doodle (NC-17, 16,400 w., 2 Ch. || LJ Fic || For a Case / Case Fic, Fake Relationship, Humour, Romance, Marriage Proposal, Awkward Idiots, Cuddling, Touching, Kissing, Love Confessions, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fake Until It’s Not, Schmoop and Fluff, Bottomlock) – “John, we need to get married. It’s for a case, not any romantic notions on my part pertaining to our partnership,” Sherlock said, with brutal honesty, and without even looking up.

The Winter Garden by Callie4180 (T, 31,213 w., 13 Ch. || Post-S4, Retirement, Christmas, Slow Burn, Grown-Up Rosie, Parenthood, Rosie’s Cat, Angst with Happy Ending, Holidays, Beekeeping, Magical Realism, Sherlock POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Future Fic, Sussex, Honey, Magical Healing Honey, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Scar, First Kiss, Touching) – As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he’s given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing. Almost… magical.

carrying up his morning tea by darcylindbergh (E, 34,504 w., 5 Ch. || Post S3, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Wakes/Funerals, Estranged John, Pining Sherlock, Depression/Insecurity, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain/Injury, Reconciliation, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Scars, Angst With Happy Ending) – His fingers tremble as he dials and he can’t force them steady. Familiar number, even though he hasn’t used it in two years. He isn’t even sure he should be calling it now, but she’d asked. She’d made him promise.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

[ussthunderquack]

Relationships for Bucky that would actually be interesting

Note: I do NOT necessarly mean “romantic” relationships. Though this could certainly help give a fanfic writer ideas.

Also, I’m going to copy-paste a few things from the Wanda and Tony entries, as well as the Winter-ships one. 

The guy whose parents he was forced to murder

I love Shuri, I worship Shuri, but Tony should have been the one to replace that arm, and you know why. What that would have done for their story arc. How much more powerful it would be than, rather than just “Oh BTW here’s an new arm yo.”

I’ll also drop here that Bucky knew Howard; Tony knows about torture and mental instability; both are psychotically protective of people they care about, both have colossal guilt complexes.

Tony supposedly has a conflicted friendship with Steve. Bucky supposedly is super protective of Steve. …………Fine. I’ll buy it. I can’t, actually, but I can pretend to. But Tony has far more reason to have a conflicted relationship with Bucky, and Bucky has ample reason to be protective of Tony. Basically, both’s supposed relationship with Steve would be far better used with each other. I think this is the basis of Winteriron, to be honest.

Basically you have these two goldmines of angst, played by brilliant actors, who have been given the angstiest possible connection to each other….. but there’s this red, white and blue wall of cardboard standing between them.

The other Hydra Guinea pig 

Again, I worship Shuri, but having her fix Buck’s brain and provide the new arm was such a cop-out. Tony should’ve made the new arm, for obvious reasons, and Wanda should’ve cured Bucky’s Hydra programing, or at least helped with it. (Maybe a combination of her mind-powers and Tony’s BARF tech) That is of course, after having to earn his trust. Bucky, if/when he learned her history, would likely despise her for a while, since she “volunteered” for the Hydra labs, and specialized in mind-control. In fact, did Bucky and Wanda perhaps already meet, back at Hydra? Was Wanda, or previous agents given similar powers, used in Bucky’s Winer Soldier programing?

On the other hand.... 

The Person who DID (for better or worse) fix his mind-control and give him his new arm 

Salty as I am about Shuri snagging the arm-replacement from Tony and the mind-fixing from Wanda and Mantis, I do still worship the ground she snarks on. Bucky already has a relationship of some degree with her, in canon. And I would like very much to see more of it. He needs some other friends besides Steve. 

The Guy Whose Story He’s Joined 

White Wolf is a “Black Panther” character in previous media, so God willing we’ll see Bucky became a vastly superior designated “chivalrous team leader who wants to help Bucky”  another hero’s sidekick. 

The other assassin for a sketchy organization 

Supposedly Ava Starr worked for Shield, but Nick Fury didn’t use her for the Avengers. Fans suspect it was Hyrda pulling her strings, as they were secretly running Shield all along. So Bucky and Ava might already have a history together, as partners on missions or as enemies. 

If you don’t ship it due to the age difference/shipping Bucky with someone else, there’s always the big-brother little-sister option. 

Also, both Ava and Bucky were known as “ghosts.” 

The Other Other Assassin From A Sketchy Organization

They dated in the comics. They fought in the past, in the movies. Nat already helped a friend with Mind Control issues. I never personally shipped it but I’d be a lot more invested in Bucky interacting with Nat than you-know-who. 

The Guy Who Leads a PTSD Group

...but the movies treat him like the Doubting Thomas sidekick to the “pure” and “noble”.... sorry getting offtrack. Anyway, I wasn’t into WinterFalcon, until remembering that Sam specializes in PTSD. I’m still personally not into WinterFalcon, but would love to see Sam help Bucky (and other Avengers) with PTSD. Also, they can bond over being Steve’s sane friends sick of his rash stupidity, and growing frustrated with his godlike reputation, being two of the only people who know what’s really going on behind the curtain. (Whether that’s a suffering Steve who needs their love or an asshole or both, I don’t care, because we’re not talking about Steve.)

MORE DAMN IT, I NEED MORE! 

Aside from the arm connection, Bucky also seems to be an animal guy. He takes care of goats to help recover from his trauma; he takes the name White Wolf, and was saved by a guy named Black Panther, and is maybe friends with another guy named Falcon. And then the above scene happens. 

Also, “We didn’t ask to be made!” 

And Rocket’s not the only Guardian Bucky should hang out with,. 

The Other Assassin Cyborg 

Captured, turned into science projects; given cyborg limbs--specifically, a robotic left arm!; trained to be assassins for one of the most evil institutions in their societies; have one adopted/surrogate sibling they rely on (Gamora, Steve); have both met the raccoon.

The Other Unwitting Pawn Who Helped a Villain Commit His Murders and who could help Buck with his mind-control issue 

Basically same relationship he’d have with Wanda, but with less trust issues, as Mantis was never with Hydra and was raised by Ego from a larva. (Though Wanda wasn’t exactly a grown-up either when she “volunteered” for Hydra, but I digress). 

The Other Cinnamon Roll With A Violent Alter Ego 

This would be so cute and painful we would all explode 

The Other Mind-Control Victim 

Hey Marvel, if you’re looking for something to do with Hawkeye, maybe have him help the other mind-control victim (though Hawkeye’s was microscopic compared to Bucky’s but still). Maybe the Bartons put Bucky up for a while as he gets re-integrated into American society (if he is pardoned, and doesn’t choose to stay in Wakanda) 

The Fellow Military Background Superhero Who’s Gonna Get Him Out Of The Soul Stone 

Both signed up for the U.S. military, “died,” was re-made into a super-human and trained in a new army that the old one knew nothing about, has amnesia, has a past with Nick Fury and (probably) Tony Stark, one is dusted/in the Soul Stone and the other is the key to saving everyone in the Soul Stone  

 The Other Former Villain Who Lives In His Heroic Adopted Brother’s Shadow   

The more I think of it, the more this seems like stretch outside of shipping. Still, imagine Loki piercing Bucky’s “armor” so to speak. (Not like that. I mean, unless it’s slash you’re writing. Then go ahead.) 

The Guy He Tried To Assassinate 

“Join the Avengers Initiative Take 2, and all is forgiven Barnes.” 

And finally.....

HIS FUCKING FAMILY FOR FUCK’S SAKE!

Yes, it’s been 70 years. But Bucky was the oldest of four. All three of his siblings could easily be alive, maybe even one of his parents. At least cousins and nieces and nephews. Old friends from his life. 

Would Bucky WANT to face them? Obviously not. Which is exactly why I want to see it. 

[thephilosopheroftheboudoir]

Grim History

The Moral Violence of John Brown: Abolitionism and the Start Of the Civil War

  Few acts of violence in American history have been as contentions as John Brown’s massacre at Pottawatomie and the Raid on Harpers Ferry. Had they not been done in the name of the abolition of slavery, they would be remembered, if remembered at all, as acts of gratuitous violence. The high moral purpose behind them, however, casts them in a more ambiguous light.

    John Brown, born in 1800, was raised in Ohio. His white family was deeply religious, coming from a strict Puritan and Calvinist background. His father was severe but morally righteous and raised his children with strong values that favored the equality of all people in the sight of God. These anti-racist views were not just progressive and radical but some would even say bizarre for their time. In any case, John Brown’s family made him socialize with Native American children who lived nearby. As he grew older, he also befriended an African-American boy; he had the misfortune of seeing his friend get beaten by a white man and Brown grew up, as a result, with a smoldering hatred for slavery and racial injustice.

    When he grew older John Brown moved on to the progressive northern city of Springfield, Massachusetts. He set up a tanning business and quickly immersed himself in the Abolitionist political movement. Springfield was a hotbed of Abolitionism and a major stop on the Underground Railroad. It was here that Brown met Frederick Douglass and went to work helping escaped slaves move onwards to Canada were freedom waited for them. At about this time, the US government ratified the Fugitive Slave Act, making the capture and return of runaway slaves to their owners compulsory, even in the northern states where slavery was illegal. In response, John Brown set up a clandestine militant group called the League of Gileadites to assist the freed slaves evade capture by bounty hunters. By this point, Brown saw the futility of the Abolitionist movement which was mostly comprised of pacifists who thought that slavery would eventually die out. He began to advocate for the violent overthrow of southern plantations at Abolitionist meetings; the response was one of sympathy but not support.

    In Springfield, Brown got married to a woman who would soon die; they started having a lot of children. His business failed. They moved to New York state and bought land near Lake Placid where he set up a homestead that welcomed freed slaves with open arms. In his sparse living conditions, black people and his white family members all slept side by side and no one had a bed that was better than anyone else’s; everybody was given equal amounts of work, pay, and food. John Brown built up a reputation as being a white man who truly trusted and loved African-American people.

    After establishing the farm in New York, John Brown moved to Ohio and got re-married after his first wife died. They went on to have about twenty children, almost half of which died. He tried to make it as a land speculator but failed at that so he moved on to Kansas where three of his brothers were running a farm. Kansas was a newly admitted territory to the USA at that time. Both pro- and anti-slavery factions saw it as up for grabs; the stage was set for the skirmishes that later came to be known as Bloody Kansas. Brown arrived at the beginning of that era when pro-slavery landowners would routinely hire border ruffians from Missouri to cross the state line and raid the farms of Free State abolitionists; sometimes the border ruffians were paid to cross into Kansas to vote illegally in local elections as well, thus ensuring that pro-slavery politicians stayed in power. The petty raids eventually turned into a larger scale attack; in 1856 the thugs from Missouri, led by a local sheriff,  sacked Lawrence, burning down a Free State news agency and a hotel as a warning that Abolitionists would not be tolerated in Kansas. After the destruction, John Brown started to arm his family in preparation for military conflict. The pro-slavery farmers continuously made threats to the Free State supporters. John Brown at that point had simply had enough.

    One night at the end of May 1956, Brown led three of his sons and a band of settlers to Pottawatomie Creek. Armed with swords, they dragged five men, all of them supporters of slavery, out of their beds and into a field where they proceeded to slice them up with their blades. Brown turned his back and stared off into the night while the posse went to work, slashing and stabbing their victims until they were nothing but a bloody pile of corpses in the moonlight. The families of the dead racists quickly identified the ring leader as John Brown so he escaped with his men to live in the forest until things cooled off. Meanwhile, the battles of Bloody Kansas began in response.

    John Brown and his men participated in two of these fights. In his absence, the army captain Henry Pate burned down his family’s farm and took two of his sons prisoner. The pro-slavery Pate and his army of ruffians from Missouri marched on Lawrence. In the Battle of Black Jack, Brown and his outlaw band emerged from the woods and hijacked Pate’s column. They captured some of Pate’s men and held them for ransom; Brown let them go in exchange for his two imprisoned sons. They took to the woods again and hid out until the Battle of Osawatomie. The backwoodsmen from Missouri led an attack on that town; Brown  arrived and saw his group outnumbered so they tried to scare them away by shooting in all directions, making it look like they were a bigger army then they really were. The pro-slavery gang set the town on fire and ran. Brown’s gang scattered in the other direction.

    John Brown, under cover of night, secretly escaped to Springfield with two of his sons. Inspired by recent news of Nat Turner’s slave rebellion in the South and Maroon societies living in the hills of Jamaica, he began to scheme up a plan to hatch a rebellion which would end slavery in America. He believed the Abolitionists were not acting aggressively enough so he dreamed up a plan to begin a guerilla war by seizing an arms depot in the South, quickly arming the slaves and sending them on to other plantations to supply other African-Americans with arms in order to kill their masters. All the freed slaves would then escape into the Appalachian Mountains and hide until a later date when they would emerge and establish a country, neither Unionist nor Confederate, where all people white, black, and Native American would live in equality. He even drew up a provisional constitution boldly stating that the first president of the new nation was to be a Black man. Brown began lecturing on the underground circuit, hoping to attract thousands of followers. Although he found no shortage of audiences willing to listen, he only inspired about forty men, both white and black, to join him. However, a group of rich Abolitionists, later to be called the Secret Six, agreed to fund the revolt. Brown and his followers took their money and sneaked off to Ohio where they bought a supply of rifles and pikes to be handed out to slaves once the rebellion started.

    John Brown and his small army rented some land near  in Virginia (now part of West Virginia) where they began training and drilling for the attack. In October 1859, the amateur soldiers marched on Harpers Ferry. They cut the town’s telegraph wires and a couple men were left at a railroad bridge to prevent anyone from coming or going. As a train came down the tracks, the men blocked the rails and began shooting until it stopped. A porter named Heyward Shepard got off the train to see what was happening. He saw the men with guns and, thinking it was a robbery, began to run. They commanded him to stop and he did not, so they shot him in the back. Shepard was a free African-American man and, ironically, the first casualty in John Brown’s proposed slave rebellion. For some unknown reason, they allowed the train to continue on; it stopped at the next town and a telegraph was sent to a nearby military stating that a raid was taking place.

    Meanwhile, John Brown sent some of his followers around to the plantations to tell the slaves a rebellion was taking place and their help was needed. A small number of them reluctantly took guns and went along; most of the slaves refused to join, thinking the idea of a white man leading a slave rebellion to be bizarre and impossible to understand. Brown’s men seized the town’s armory which had been filled with a massive stockpile of weapons which they were planning to hand out to slaves all over the South until all the Black people were armed and ready to fight. Some of the town’s people took to the hills behind the armory and began to fire. Brown’s team killed several of them and held the fort. Then the army started to arrive and Brown decided to move his platoon to the engine house which was closer to the road. A night-long firefight ensued and several people on both sides got shot and killed. Brown knew he was outnumbered; their food and water supply was dwindling so in the morning he sent his son out with a white flag to declare a truce. The soldiers responded with a fusillade of bullets but they did allow the men inside the engine house to surrender and be escorted to the jail.

    The Raid on Harpers Ferry had failed.

    Fearing that the South was under imminent attack from the North, John Brown and his companions were quickly put on trial. Brown, suffering from a severe head wound, defended himself by stating that he committed a justifiable act of violence because the institution of slavery was an act prohibited by the Christian God whose law was higher than the laws of men. The trial lasted less than a week. Brown and his army were sentenced to hang.

    On December 2, an military unit came to Virginia to guard the gallows pole from anyone attempting to rescue Brown at his time of execution. Present in the squadron were Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson, John Wilkes Booth, and Walt Whitman who later wrote a laudatory poem about the hanging, praising John Brown for his courage. John Brown, alongside two of his fellow fighters, were hung at 11:15 am, quickly packed into coffins with the nooses still around their necks, and sent away.

    The Raid on Harpers Ferry led to panic and paranoia in the South. Previously, the Southerners thought the Abolitionists were too cowardly and weak to use violence but then the Southern bigots became scared. The  Secessionist movement grew rapidly and the Confederacy declared their independence from the USA. Soon the Unionist troops would attack and the Civil War would begin, culminating in the Emancipation  Proclamation that freed the slaves. John Brown’s acts of violence are now believed to be the first battles of the Civil War.

    The practicality, morality, and sanity of John Brown have been debated ever since. Some of the more militant leaders of the Civil Rights movement hailed Brown as a hero while some historians and scholars have concluded that his violence was rational and sane, even if a bit far-fetched and grandiose, given the context in which they happened. Others say he was delusional, psychotic, and stupid. People of the latter persuasion tend to be Confederate sympathizers who wish to vilify and demonize the man. There have also been some pacifists who claim that Brown’s attacks were unnecessary as they continue to tow the line that slavery would have ended peacefully in the end anyways. That idea is not widely supported by scholars. In the end, if John Brown had never raided Harpers Ferry, the Civil War may never have started  which leaves the possibility open that America might still be a legalized slave state to this day. John Brown reminds us that sometimes violence is moral and sometimes violence is necessary.

Reference

Reynolds, David S. John Brown Abolitionist: The Man Who Killed Slavery, Sparked the Civil War and Seeded Civil Rights, Vintage, revised edition 2006.

https://grimhistory.blogspot.com/

[alichter]

                                  🌈 IC PRIDE PROFILE 🌈

                                      made by @AKUMEIS   /   snatched from @raudrakos :*

IC.

NAME;   alexander gideon lightwood

AGE;   23

ETHNICITY / NATIONALITY;   american citizen ,   but i would like to hc he has a bit of spanish in there.

REAL LIFE FACECLAIM;   matthew daddario

IDENTIFIES AS;   homoromantic  &  homosexual

PRIDES ATTENDING;   around new york or brooklyn area ,  honestly wherever magnus or the squad takes him.

ATTENDANCE FREQUENCY;    whenever his friends are going ,  but not always.  his shadowhunting duties are a priority though he does his best to arrive on time ,  probably at the frequency whenever magnus is involved.  he probably just started around S2 of the season ,  like 2017 - 2018ish ... ?  then continuing to present.

TYPICALLY ATTENDS;   prefers to attend with friends and his boyfriend ,   but he does attend alone depending on his availability and mood.  

DEMEANOR IN ATTENDANCE;   subtle !!   he’s content to observe and enjoy watching other people’s joy.  though he does wear his colors through pins or clothing as courtesy by his fashion advise slash boyfriend / husband - to - be in collaboration with izzy.  he doesn’t speak unless spoken to and usually needs a long time to gather his courage and assess his surroundings while not to be overwhelmed when he initiates a conversation.  mundane celebrations are weird ,   and he’s not really a people person.

STALL HOSTING;   nope ,  he just walks leisurely around.  buys a thing or two for his squad.

OPEN TO INTERACTION WITH MINORS / PEOPLE OF FAITH IN ATTENDANCE;   alec says lgbtq+ and minor rights!   like said before,  he interacts if people start interacting with him or if he initiates it.  he’s very protective of the younger ones and gives them pointers on how to come out  (  “ hey do it on your wedding day ,  it makes a BOLD statement. ”  )  or just there to listen and give advice on coping with heteronormative expectations.   he does his best to be respectful and knowledgeable with people in attendance. 

OPEN TO GOING TO BARS / DRINKING;   he drinks depending on situation but watches his tolerance and frequency because he’s a MESS DRUNK.  also he lowkey hates the taste unless it’s conjured or made to a specific detail.  tolerable of beers ,  not sure about cocktails and whatnot ---  he has NO IDEA what these drinks are or what he prefers as long as it’s not sending him to the void.  help him.

OOC.

i’m ren at 22 years of being demiromantic/sexual !!   i just categorized myself as such now that i have the resources but i always felt like i have difficulty in connecting with others on an intimate level ,   and i prefer to get comfortable with them first.   sure i am attracted to people being aesthetically pleasing but that’s not enough to warrant a deep affection from me on first sight.  god i always thought i’m different because people my age would want to date but i just wanna hang out and   S L O W   B U R N.

enough about that ,   i’ve been only to PRIDE WA 2018 for a short time ,  respected a lot of people and had to bail out the last moment before it even starts because i had a panic attack on how overwhelming it is.  not used to the crowds and feeling like i’m alone because even if i met people ,   they just seem not to care so ,   shrugs.  i’m not keen to joining the parade this year or ever until notice ---  just until i get this mental scar over but i do support y’all who are far more confident and have companions with you to support you.

i saw my good friend eevee @raudrakos post this and thought why not.  so for the duration of pride month ,   feel free to tag or write with me on random pride starters ,  ic asks or memes.  welcome to indie & isolan mutuals and selective with non - mutuals.  this invitation applies to all my blogs from here on alichter to @osrule ,  @helltore ,  @haloese in which i am often online or active.

please don’t forget to send me your muse’s ic pride 2019 info using this similar tag.  i’m open to interact with blogs joining this event.  happy pride !! 

[searchingwardrobes]

Captain Swan is My Favorite Rom Com: Sleepless in Seattle 3/3

Rating: G (But the rest of the stories in Captain Swan is My Favorite Rom Com are rated T)

Can also be read on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @kday426 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @shipsxahoy @shady-swan-jones @tiganasummertree @artistic-writer @cat-sophia @hollyethecurious @coliferoncer @thejacketandthehook @dassala @branlovestowrite @allofdafandoms-blog @flslp87 @pocket-anon @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @onceuponaprincessworld

Some people might call Killian Jones an overprotective parent. His daughter Alice would probably agree. But Killian always argued that he had to be. For one, he was all Alice had now. For another, he knew all too well what kind of darkness lurked in the world. Alice saw it full of joy and possibility; and he would do all he could to allow her to continue to believe that.

Which was why he panicked slightly to hear a male voice talking to his daughter at their front door. He picked up his pace coming down the stairs, and even when he saw that it was just the mail carrier, he didn’t slow down.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” he demanded in his sternest voice. Okay, so maybe he was a little on the overprotective side, but when did the mail ever get hand-delivered to their door? “Alice, how many times have I told you to let me answer the door?”

Alice completely ignored his apparent panic attack. “Look at all these letters, Papa!”

The mail carrier shoved another fat stack of letters bound with rubber bands into Killian’s chest and beat a hasty retreat. Killian’s brow rose as he looked at the letters that he could scarcely juggle to the equally large stack in Alice’s arms. A fat packet fell to the floor and Alice bent to retrieve them, almost losing hold of the ones clutched against her chest. They made their way to the kitchen island and dumped them on top. As the loose ones fanned out across the formica, Killian spied postmarks from all over the country, and some from even farther away. Alice reached for one in a pink envelope and tore into it.

“Dear Sleepless in Seattle,” she read, “you’re the sexiest man I ever laid ears on.” She rolled her eyes, tossing the letter over her shoulder. “Yuck, that one’s a no.”

“Wait,” Killian said, slashing his hand through the air, “these are all addressed to Sleepless in Seattle?”

“Uh huh,” Alice said distractedly as she opened another letter. “This one sent a picture.”

She waved it in her father’s face, and Killian snatched it. Who knew what type of photographs these women had sent? He glanced at it, then let out a sigh of relief.

“She looks old,” Alice commented as she wrinkled her nose.

“She looks like my primary school teacher - “ he paused dramatically then gave the picture another glance, making his eyes bug out exaggeratedly, “Wait a second! She is my primary school teacher!”

Alice dissolved into giggles, and before she could reach for another letter, Killian unceremoniously began to slide all of them into the trashcan. Some missed the bin and went fluttering to the floor. He couldn’t expose Alice to God knew what might be in these missives. One that landed on his boot had lipstick marks on it. He kicked it aside, snatched it, then shoved it into the trash with the others.

“Papa!” Alice cried. “What are you doing? Your soul mate could be in there!”

“No, Alice, she’s not!”

“How do you know?”

“Because this isn’t how it happens.”

“Then how does it happen?”

Killian shrugged. “You . . . meet someone, and you feel this . . . spark.”

A sly grin filled Alice’s face. “You mean like when that lady ran into you at the airport?”

“Lady?”

Alice rolled her eyes. “Papa, please, you stood there staring at her with your mouth hanging open.”

Killian sighed and rested his elbows on the countertop. “Alice, listen, sometimes a person is attracted to someone, yes, but that doesn’t mean it will be the way it was with your mom. If I do this -” he lifted his palm when Alice eagerly retrieved a letter he’d missed beneath the stool she was perched on “and by this I mean date, not go through these ridiculous letters. If I date, I may need to sort of . . . try a few ladies on for size. See if they fit with our little family here. It may not be the fairy tale you’re imagining. Can you understand that, Starfish?”

Alice chewed on her bottom lip. “But if it’s true love . . .”

Killian groaned and massaged his brow. “Let’s drop this topic, shall we?” He turned to the kitchen pantry. “What do you say about spaghetti for dinner?”

Alice didn’t respond, instead surreptitiously opening the letter she had retrieved from the floor. But when she scanned the first lines, she gasped. “Papa!” She jumped from her stool and dashed across the kitchen waving the letter in her hand. “Papa, listen to this: Dear Killian and Alice, Hi. My name is Henry. I’m ten. My mom should be writing this letter, but I know she won’t do it. So I’m writing instead. This may sound weird, but – were you at Boston Airport a few days after Christmas? Cause I think my mom may have run into you – like seriously. Ran into you. Did you hear that Papa? The lady from the airport!!!”

Killian exited the pantry with a box of noodles in his hand. “Let me see that.” With narrowed eyes, he scanned the letter himself. “She’s blonde and has green eyes. I think she liked you, Mr. Killian. We also heard you on the radio. I don’t really know what else to say. I guess I’m asking if you could write back? To my mom, I mean. Or you could write to me too. I don’t mind. Your friend (I hope), Henry Swan.”

”See Papa, see?” Alice squealed, jumping up and down and pulling on her father’s arm. “I was right! Bumping into that lady was fate! You have to write back.”

Killian shook his head. “I can’t, Starfish.”

Alice frowned. “Why not?”

“A grown man can’t start writing letters to a ten-year-old boy. His mother would be livid, and rightfully so.”

“Then write to her,” Alice said with a shrug. “You have her name now, and her address.”

“Aye, I do,” Killian told his daughter, pointing at the envelope on the table. “Boston, Massachusetts, Alice, do you have any idea how far away that is from Seattle?”

Alice tilted her head. “A long plane ride?”

“American schools,” Killian muttered, shaking his head as he went over to the set of maps he’d put up above the kitchen table. He pulled down the one of the US. If she wasn’t going to learn geography or how to read a map at school, he was bloody well teaching her himself. “Now, where’s Seattle?”

Alice gave him a withering look, but pointed at the northwest coast anyway.

“And where’s Boston?”

“Somewhere . . .” she gestured vaguely to the right side of the map, “over there?”

“Aye, somewhere over there, here specifically,” he jabbed his finger at the coast of Massachusetts, “there’s what, two? Five? Eight? About two dozen states between here and there.”

“But Uncle Liam and Aunt Elsa are there!” Alice was raising her voice now, and Killian was losing his patience.

“Alice, I’m not answering a letter from a kid like some sick pedophile!”

“What’s a pedophile?”

“It’s a . . a, um . . . “ he rubbed his brow wearily, then bent down to look Alice in the eye. “That’s not important, Starfish, you’ve just got to trust me. Forget this letter. Okay?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, glared at him for a minute, then burst into tears. She turned and stomped up the stairs. “I hate you!” she yelled as she fled.

He collapsed onto the kitchen stool and dropped his head into his hands. Moments like this, he missed Milah more than ever.

**************************************************

Dear Henry,

You can probly tell this is Alice. I tride to get Papa to right write but he said no. He did run into your Mum. I think he liked her. Can you get her to write?

Your new friend Alice

****************************************************

Dear Alice,

I showed Mom your letter. She got mad that I wrote. We had a pretty bad fight about it. I think she was still mad about what I said to Walsh though. But he really did screech like a monkey when he saw that spider! My mom hates spiders, so I had to kill it. Oh, I guess you don’t know. My mom is engaged to Walsh. Yuck! Would your dad kill a spider? Or just stand there screaming? I don’t want Walsh to be my dad. He doesn’t even like me. Anyway, could you write back at least?

Your friend,

Henry

****************************************************

Dear Henry,

Of corse I can write! Walsh sounds awful. My Papa is very brave, and he is a good papa to me. I think he would like you. What is Boston like? Do you live by the sea? Papa says the sea com cam calms him. Owr house is right by the water. I like to draw, so I will draw a pikcher of our house and send it with my letter.

Your friend, Alice

******************************************************

Dear Alice,

Your drawing was really good! I can’t draw, but I like to write stories. Walsh laughed about one of my stories and called it “cute”. I was so mad! Mom says he’s trying, but I know he’s only nice to me because he wants to marry her. You have to help me stop the wedding! Are you sure your dad won’t write? Walsh wants to take us to New York City for Valentine’s Day, but he won’t even take me to the Empire State Building. He says its too crowded. I hate him! All he wants to do is take my mom to Tiffany’s and do mushy stuff with her. Yuck!

Your friend,

Henry

*******************************************************

Dear Henry,

We are both in tons of trouble! We have to get our parents together somehow. Papa had a date with this awful witch named Zelena. I am NOT kidding. I think she may really be a witch. She cakels cackles like a witch. She came to our house with tons of bags like she was goin to stay for a million years. She tryed to kiss my Papa too, but I screamed. Yes, I was spying OK? Papa and I will be in New York City on Valentine’s Day too! I got in a art comphu comp contest. Get your mum to The Empire State Bilding at sunset that day. I’ll get Papa there!

Your friend, Alice

****************************************************

Emma punched the elevator button so hard she was surprised she didn’t break it. When the numbers above the door still didn’t light up fast enough, she slammed both palms against it.

“Emma,” Walsh said, laying a hand over one of hers, “calm down. Just call the cops and let them deal with this.”

“What?” Emma snapped turning all her fury on her fiancé. “Are you fucking kidding me? My kid is missing!”

Walsh had the audacity to roll his eyes, and Emma almost punched him. “We both know where he went. He wouldn’t shut up about the stupid Empire State Building. I told you to do something about his attitude. He whines like a toddler. And now when we’re supposed to be having a romantic dinner -”

Walsh’s words were cut off when Emma’s fist connected with his jaw. He hit the floor before he had even processed anything. The engagement ring he had purchased that morning at Tiffany’s pinged off his forehead.

“Consider the wedding cancelled, asshole.”

***********************************************

“Henry! Henry!” relief flooded through Emma when she found Henry sitting on the ground next to a telescope on the observation deck. His cheeks were wet with tears, and Emma held him as close as she could in trembling arms.

“I thought they would come Mom,” he sobbed against her shoulder.

“Who Henry? You thought who would come?” she asked as she pulled back to look him in the eye. She tenderly wiped his cheeks with her thumbs.

“Alice and Killian. It was my last hope. To keep you from marrying that awful Walsh. He’s so wrong for you Mom, I couldn’t -”

Emma shook her head and pulled Henry close again. “Oh kid, I’m so sorry. Walsh is history. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I thought you needed a traditional family. The white picket fence, and the dog, and -”

“I’ll take a dog!”

They both laughed as they pulled apart. Emma massaged her son’s shoulders. “I haven’t screwed up too much, have I?”

“That depends?” Henry said teasingly, cocking his head. “Is Walsh really history?”

Emma nodded firmly. “With a broken jaw to prove it.”

Henry’s eyes grew wide in awe. “Sweet.”

Emma laughed. “And I threw the ring at his head.”

Henry gave her a fist bump. As Emma stood and tousled his hair, her son’s eyes grew wide. Emma turned, and her own jaw dropped.

“It’s . . . you,” the man before her gasped.

Emma blinked as she took him in: the same man from the airport. At his side was the same little blonde girl, her grin as wide as a cheshire cat.

“It’s me,” Emma replied, a tiny smile flitting at the corner of her mouth. In the rational part of Emma’s brain, the words made no sense. But in some other part of her, they made all the sense in the world.

“Hey Alice,” Henry piped up.

“Hi, Henry!” the little girl replied.

The handsome man in front of her arched a brow. The motion brought attention to his sparkling blue eyes. He ran his hand along his jaw, and Emma followed the movement, appreciating the stubble there.

“It seems our children have been corresponding.”

His accent made Emma’s stomach flip. Her half smile tilted up further.

“Is that so?”

“Aye,” he said, dropping his hand from his face and extending it to her, “so I feel I ought to introduce myself. Killian Jones.”

Emma swallowed at a sudden lump in her throat. Sleepless in Seattle. Just as Henry had said. She took his offered hand.

“Emma Swan.”

The elevator operator announced that the observation deck was closing.

“Shall we?” Killian asked.

Emma could only smile and nod in response. He had yet to let go of her hand, and in that simple touch, she felt it. Magic.

As the elevator doors closed, Alice and Henry looked first at their parents, then at each other with huge grins on their faces. Operation Sleepless Swan was a success.

**********************************************

“I’m Marcia Fieldstone live from Chicago on this Christmas Eve. I have some very special guests in my studio today. Many of you may remember last year when I spoke with a little girl named Alice whose Christmas wish was a wife for her Papa. Alice, can you tell us what happened just yesterday?”

“My Papa got married!”

“That’s wonderful, Alice. And listeners, I have here also the woman who has made this wish come true. Emma, it is so wonderful for you to join us.”

“Thank you, Marcia, it’s my pleasure. I was actually listening last Christmas when Alice called you”

“And did you imagine that you would be here a year later as a mother to Alice and a wife to Killian?”

“No, Marcia, I didn’t.”

“Well, I want to turn now to Sleepless in Seattle himself. Killian, last year I asked you what you loved about your first wife. What made you fall in love with Emma?”

“Well, just like last year, I would say it’s so many, many things. This amazing woman next to me, who I now am honored to call my wife, is feisty and determined. I have yet to see her fail. I never thought I could get over losing my wife, until I met Emma. Never thought I could love again. But the moment I touched Emma’s hand – no, before that – the moment she crashed into me, I knew.”

“What did you know, Killian?”

“Magic. Dr. Fieldstone. True love. That’s what I’ve found with Emma.”

“Well, listeners, it’s wonderful to report a dream come true for the holidays. Before I open the phone lines, it is our wish that you and yours will find magic as well on this Christmas Eve.”

Dr. Fieldstone pushed a button and the radio switched to a commercial. She motioned for Emma, Killian, and Alice to remove their headphones and exit the studio. Outside, Henry was waiting for them. He grabbed Alice’s hand, telling her about free cookies and cocoa, and the pair ran down the hallway. Emma stopped her husband with a hand to his elbow. When he turned towards her, she draped her arms around his neck.

“I love you, Mr. Jones,” she told him with a flirtatious smile.

“And I love you, Mrs. Jones.”

He bent his head and kissed Emma thoroughly. Emma’s hands drifted upward to tangle in his hair. The magic that coursed from his lips was so strong she was surprised the lights didn’t flicker. When they parted, Killian pressed his forehead to hers.

“Let’s go home, love.”

She smiled up at him, brushing one more kiss across his lips. “Yes. Let’s go home for Christmas.”

[zhenyakatava]

🄼🄰🅂🄾🄽 🅁🄸🅂🄲🄷 ⋆ 24, real estate agent, timothee chalamet

about ⋆⋆⋆ the youngest of a relatively large family with two seemingly happily-married parents and successful, smart kids / as the baby of the family, he grew up under his mother’s thumb / his mother, who was pta president and team mom and volunteered at every event while also working full time as a real estate agent in the vegas area, was a force to be reckoned with to say the least / expectations were always high and punishments for not meeting them even higher, because everyone was always watching / this made mason both diligent and paranoid, taking on his mom’s tendency to assume that everyone around him was always judging and critiquing his every move / he was never the quickest learner in school, never the best at sports or model un or whatever he put himself into, but his perceived mediocrity only made him work harder to try and measure up / he ended up deciding to go to uc berkeley for college, but the transition was really hard on him and harder on his mom, who sort of went crazy with an empty nest and no one to micromanage / still, mason got close with a childhood friend and old flame from vegas who also went to berkley, latching onto her for stability and companionship when he had none / on a whim, mason decided to propose to her during their sophomore year after just over a year of dating and she... surprisingly said yes / he made a little life for himself at berkeley, graduated with a degree in business, got a job and a little house with his wifey, and everything seemed pretty great / and then.. it wasn’t. nothing dramatic happened, the two just drifted apart, and she sprung the divorce papers on him about a year and a half ago, after three years of being married / now, he’s retreated back to vegas with his tail between his legs, getting a job that he has no idea how to do because his mom just gave him it, trying to figure out where to go from here / he’s doing great! seriously! 

needs ⋆⋆⋆ now that i’ve written a novel! i’m going to put up a couple requests (hopefully) for him so stay tuned for those!! but generally, he needs his family. i haven’t figured out any specifics but they’re basically the typical all-american family, all probably college educated and hiding their own battles from the world (whether they do it successfully or not is... up for debate lmao). now that he’s a little lost and confused i’m sure mason is trying really hard to reconnect (or connect in the first place) with his family in hopes that it’ll help him gain some footing. also maybe his parents are getting a divorce! idk! 

for friends, i’m really imagining his upbringing sort of like big little lies (minus the murder) with a bunch of mom friends/frenemies and their kids hanging out because their moms wanted them to, being weirdly competitive over everything in school, knowing all of each other’s family secrets because they eavesdropped during boozy brunch at ms. jenna’s house or wtfever. 

aaaaand obviously if someone wants to make his ex-wife go for it! this isn’t really a romantic request but he’s #struggling pretty hard and if she’s around would probably be That Bitch and go to her just for something familiar. i also think it would be fun & dramatic & angsty for them to try and work through their problems and try to be civil slash friendly because, hey, they were friends once! and they know each other better than anyone else so they’d be good friends for each other to have!

REQUESTS EVENTUALLY BUT FEEL FREE TO MESSAGE ME IF U WANT MY DISCORD IS: 🗣🗣🗣 morgan 🗣🗣🗣#3278

[artificialqueens]

Twist Of Fate - Ch08 - (Trixya) - katyahzamo

A/N: The time has come, squirrel friends, to finally see a tiny bit of Trixie’s side of the story! There will be one more Trixie POV until the end of the fic, so enjoy it while you can and let me know what you think!

A reminder: Trixie is a hairdresser and Katya is a struggling photographer slash yoga instructor. Lesbian AU. Read the chapters on AO3 and/or come hang out on my tumblr katyahzamo. Comments are welcome and encouraged!

Trixie Mattel used to read a lot of romance novels growing up. Living in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by endless fields that stretched for miles, there weren’t many other things to do during summer months, when school was out and the heat reached its peak, forbidding her to walk through the tall grass hours on end.  Instead, she would sit on the small porch, propped up by pillows she’d bring down from her bedroom, and read one shitty romance novel after another, bought in grocery stores for a dollar or two.

It used to be the only thing that transported her somewhere else, away from her alcoholic stepfather and the poverty her family endured for years on end. The romance novels have always been painfully straight and extremely cliché – but Trixie wasn’t complaining. She’d read them, and reread them if she ran out of pocket money to buy new ones, and daydreamed about running away one day to have an adventure of her own. Her favorites were those that included love triangles, a woman stuck between being infatuated with two men, choosing one and leaving the other broken-hearted. She loved them because she thought them to be fiction – no person could love-love two people at the same time, right? It was stupid.

Many years down the line, Trixie Mattel stopped reading romance novels, when empty fields got replaced by Bostonian buildings, streets and little cafés, and she started working and began worrying about real problems, like paying rent, eating regularly and keeping herself hydrated. The romantic part of her never died, however, even though she had issues with keeping herself in relationships for too long. At first it was because the internalized hatred and shame for who she was, endless attempts at dating men that didn’t work out, women who were emotionally unavailable and those who called her emotionally unavailable. Later – it was just a lack of time and energy, and determination to go far in life with her hairdressing career.

When Katya walked into her life in her mid-twenties, Trixie was instantly enamored by her charm, wit, and the perfectly white, broad grin that always seemed genuine and warm. First time she found out Katya loved women, Trixie found herself fantasizing about going to candle-lit dinners with her, kissing in the dark movie theatres and dancing with their fingers intertwined. The fantasies never stopped, even after finding out that Katya was in a serious relationship, despite herself, and always secretly hoped there would come a day when they would break up and Trixie would get that chance. She often indulged these fantasies, especially lying in bed at night and staring at the ceiling, even though she knew it was never going to happen. No one could ever love two people at the same time.

Getting an offer from Berlin had come in the right moment, when her attraction to Katya became almost unbearable, words always at the tip of her tongue and ready to spill over the edge. It was also a sign from the universe that keeping to her career was the best thing she could do for herself at that moment in time. Kim and Bob had practically jumped up and down after hearing about the opportunity Trixie has gotten, and shut down every doubt Trixie had about moving. It was exactly like she’s told Katya all those years ago: there was nothing tying her to Boston, and she was far from home anyway.

The life in Berlin had been easy – and fun, despite her horrible, broken German and shitty sense of direction. The city itself, huge and full of history, made her fall in love at first sight. Not staying in contact with Katya , while something she berated herself over for the first two weeks, became a blessing in disguise since she could finally move on. People, especially at the salon where she worked, made her feel like home and took her out to gay bars every chance they got, happy to have a lesbian American among them. Foreigners are chick magnets, her co-worker would say, you’ll be drowning in German pussy in no time.

It was funny then, or maybe a little ironic, that the first girl she would get a gigantic crush on was an American DJ, and a famous one to boot. They met one cold winter night while Kim was visiting, and told her that the new girl from Honey Salon, Adore, invited them for a party in Berghain, Berlin’s biggest nightclub. When Trixie saw Pearl for the first time, she decided that her type were definitely fit blonde women with pale eyes and a beautiful smile. Talking to Pearl would turn out to be the easiest thing in the world, even in the light of the following day when they went out for coffee. When they kissed in front of Trixie’s apartment later in the evening, Trixie felt butterflies in her stomach for the first time in forever.

It took her a long distance relationship with Pearl, who was almost always on the road, to make Trixie realize that long distance relationships are hard, maintaining solely on FaceTiming, talking over the phone and counting days until the next time they would see each other. Still, Trixie was very proud of herself for having a functional romantic relationship, even long distance, and Pearl always made it easy even though she wasn’t a romantic type. Soon after that Trixie realized that she felt lonely in Berlin, with all of her friends and her girlfriend living one ocean away and the city being now familiar enough, all the thrill of novelty gone. When she found herself crying over her morning cup of coffee in her empty apartment on a Sunday morning, Trixie decided it was time to go back.

There were many things that Trixie expected to stay the same in two years of her absence: that small coffee shop at the end of the street where Honey Salon was, the delicious ribs in a restaurant close to her apartment, Latrice’s beautiful booming laugh and lovely sunsets over Boston’s townhouses.  What Trixie didn’t expect to stay was that dumb smile of Katya Zamolodchikova that walked into the salon on the first day she came to visit her friends and beg Latrice to let her work at least part-time.

Talking to Katya felt… the same and different at once. The two of them were still the same people with the same sense of humor and mutual understanding no one but them shared; but now with different circumstances. Trixie soon found out that the absence makes the heart go fonder was unfortunately horribly accurate, even though she now had no reason to fantasize, even after finding out that Sharon was out of the picture. Pearl was in the picture now, and Trixie was in love, and loving two people at the same time was impossible. Right?

When Trixie wrote I Know You All Over Again during the worst week of her life, saying goodbye to her favorite aunt and crying in Bob’s arms for hours. When she wasn’t crying, her old guitar was in her hands, Bob by her side, picking at the guitar strings until something that made sense finally came out. Trixie was certain that it was about no one in particular, and just a little bit about Pearl. That was at least what she told herself for the entire week leading up to Adore’s and Bianca’s party. She knew she’d made a mistake telling Adore that she wrote a new song the moment Adore brought it up in front of everyone, but decided to perform it anyway. Only after she’s seen Katya sitting across from her, another girl’s hand in her lap, and that dumb grin on her face, did Trixie realize there was no point in pretending anymore. Loving two people at the same time was impossible, but over the past three weeks it’s not been Pearl that she’s been thinking about all the time, not Pearl she wished was with her back in Wisconsin, not Pearl she wanted to show off to her homophobic family. She loved Pearl, yes, but not like she loved Katya.

That is why she’s on the balcony now, getting fresh air away from the loud music and the laughter of her friends, feeling like she’s betrayed absolutely every single person that cared about her. When she hears a voice behind her, Trixie is quick to wipe her tearful eyes and laugh bleakly at the choice of words that Katya used, transporting her to two years back when she’d ask the same question.

Penny for your thoughts?                            

There is no way that Katya remembers that night of her farewell party when Trixie almost kissed her on three different occasions, right?

Trixie turns around to meet her eyes with Katya’s, noticing a very little smudge on the edges of her lips and smiles, hoping the balcony was dark enough that the other doesn’t see her red eyes that still prickle uncomfortably. Trixie swallows and then shrugs casually.

“I’m thinking how horrible my singing must have been to make you run before I was done.”

Teasing Katya is one of the easiest things in the world, especially when it’s rewarded with this gorgeous laughing that sounds like a squirrel fighting for air. It makes Trixie laugh too, the knot in her throat loosening.

“Bitch, it wasn’t your singing! I don’t have to explain my bowel movements to you, do I?”

Trixie scrunches her nose in Katya-you’re-gross kind of way but she’s still laughing.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want, Katie.”

“You’re a disgusting, vile human being.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

They laugh again but then Katya comes to stand next to her, arm propped on the railing, head tilted up a little bit since Trixie is wearing heels and she is most definitely not.

“Okay, how about this: your song is really good and your voice is amazing.”

Trixie feels her cheeks heat up and she has to look away. Since when was Katya this open with complimenting her? Diffusing the situation in her head, Trixie clears her throat, ready to fish for more.

“Oh but I fully know that.”

“You do? Good. Okay—“ Trixie watches Katya raise her index finger and presses it to her own chin, pretending to be thinking, glasses on top of her head making her messy hair even messier. Trixie wants to tuck the stray strands so badly, but doesn’t think her own heart can bear it.

“Let me try again: I think that you’re talented in everything you do and you’re seriously underestimating yourself.”

The tone that Katya uses when she says that is as neutral as if she’s talking about the weather, but Trixie has to blink once, twice, the corners of her mouth twitching into yet another smile. The knot in her throat is back, however, and when she opens her mouth to speak, nothing comes out. Instead, her eyes fill with tears and she exhales shakily pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Trix?” The last thing she needs right now is Katya coming even closer to her, but she’s there anyway, fingers wrapped around her wrist comfortingly, and Trixie flinches at how cold Katya’s skin feels.

“I’m fine I just- your fingers are really cold.”

“Trixie-“

Next thing she knows, Katya is pulling her into a hug, one of the tight ones Trixie always hoped to get more of, and her own eyes close shut when she leans her cheek on Katya’s shoulder.

“I got you, it’s okay.”

“I’m getting mascara all over your dress.”

“That’s why I always wear black dresses.”

“In case girls decide to cry on your shoulder?”

“Yes, and to keep up with my bat aesthetic.”

That makes Trixie hiccup, then laugh, before she pulls herself away and wipes the tears from under her eyes, grateful she didn’t go with heavy makeup today.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine I just— this week’s been a lot.”

Katya nods thoughtfully and rubs Trixie’s upper arms before she fishes for cigarettes in her pocket – of course Katya’s dress would have pockets - and asks Trixie if it’s okay if she smokes, to which Trixie nods, still finding it hard to speak.

“Your aunt?” Katya asks again when she exhales smoke in a direction opposite of where Trixie is standing.

“Yeah, and… other things.”

“Yeah?”

Trixie wants to tell her all about it. She wants to tell her how fucked up she is, and how bad of a person she is, how her girlfriend is in this very house downstairs with all their friends and all she can think about is stepping closer to Katya and kissing her. How she doesn’t deserve someone like Pearl, or Katya. Trixie wants to tell her how a part of her wishes she never went to Berlin because she’d have been there when Katya and Sharon broke up. She also wants to tell her how the last thing she wants is to hurt Pearl whom she loves and who has been nothing but great to her, but how her heart goes insane every time Katya is around. She wants to tell Katya other things, even more personal , and wants to tell her just how irrationally she’s in love with her, even though they still don’t know a lot of things about each other.

And yet, she doesn’t.

“I’m just tired, and I don’t really know what I want anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s kind of a long story, but just, you know, general things. Work, life, being back in Boston…”

“Having a hard time readjusting, huh?”

“Kinda, yeah. And the girls at Honey are great but recently I’ve been thinking about opening my own salon but I don’t have the stability to, you know, mentally or financially.”

Katya nods along, and the absolute understanding Trixie finds in her eyes makes her want to cry again.

“A wise woman once told me: follow your gut and stick with it.”

“Was the wise woman you?”

Katya laughs, and Trixie finds herself smiling again.

“No! But I’ll tell you this: I believe that everything you set your mind to, Tracy, you can achieve.”

“You really want me to start crying again, don’t you?”

“Wet my shoulder baby one more time.”

The shriek-laugh leaves Trixie and eventually Adore finds the two of them laughing loudly together, both having long forgotten what exactly it was they have been laughing about.

Pearl goes home with her later that evening, and as they climb up the stairs to her small apartment, Trixie still thinks about Katya leaving with Kameron little before them, trying not to feel too bitter about it. Her own emotions aside, Katya has absolutely every right to move on from Sharon, and it would be selfish to feel betrayed or sulk about it. After all, Pearl is right next to her, with her arms around her, mumbling about how tired she is and how she can’t wait to get into bed.

Trixie watches her take off her clothes and go into the shower, and does the same once Pearl is out. Feeling mentally and physically drained, Trixie snuggles into Pearl under the covers in her king-sized bed that’s more than big enough for the two of them.

“I’m going to miss all of those bitches when I leave.”

Pearl’s voice is low and rumbling with her lips pressed to Trixie’s forehead, Trixie snuggled into her embrace and arm slung around Pearl’s bare, toned stomach.

“I’m going to miss you.” She adds, and Trixie looks up to find her blue eyes searching for hers, feeling a whirlwind of emotions from the night, from the week, from this moment, tearing her apart from the inside.

“I’ll miss you too.” Trixie finally croaks out, and she’s not lying. These past couple of weeks has been the longest she and Pearl have spent together, and Trixie’s gotten used to having her around. Waking up with Pearl and going to sleep with her has been her favorite part of the day, because she loves the feeling of being protected and safe, and loves having Pearl’s arms around her. She wishes, with all her heart, it was enough.

“You smell so good.” Pearl says then, and her lips are already leaving small, lingering kisses down Trixie’s face and her jawline. Once her teeth find Trixie’s neck and bite down playfully, Katya temporarily leaves Trixie’s mind. All she can think about are Pearl’s lips and Pearl’s hands running down her sides and fingers digging into soft flesh of her waist under her T-Shirt.

“Yeah?” She breathes out, scooting closer, suddenly hungry for physical touch, Pearl’s touch, always so attentive and knowing of what Trixie wants and needs.

“Mhmmm.” When she sees Pearl smile and trail kisses down her bare stomach, her long fingers pushing Trixie’s underwear down her thighs before she settles between them, Trixie thinks she can make this work. Maybe she has been wrong all these years. Maybe it was possible to love two people at the same time after all. She will think about what to do about that realization tomorrow.

.

.

.

Trixie is thankful that Kim is back on Monday, and they embrace tightly in the middle of the salon. She requests every single detail from the New York seminar, and Kim has just finished talking about how Brianna got food poisoning from one of the small delis when customers start pouring in. Without having to say anything, Trixie knows Kim wants her to talk about Adore and Bianca’s party, because Kim and Bob are the only people who knew about her liking Katya back then, two years ago. It has been the only thing that kept her sane through everything. Neither of them know about Trixie’s realizations now, because saying them out loud would mean that it’s true, and Trixie is not ready to admit it to herself just yet.

Luckily for her, Kim is a really good reader of people.

“Come on, Trixie, I know you’ve been dying to tell me about the party all morning.”

They finally manage to sit down hours later, for lunch, and Trixie knows she doesn’t have a lot of time before their next appointments walk through their door.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell you Kimberly, it was a housewarming party. Alcohol has been drunk, songs have been sung, we’ve all been roasted by Bianca at least once, Katya and I talked twice…”

“Katya was there?”

“Yeah, you know how much Adore loves her, of course she was there.”

“That must have been awkward, huh?”

“A little bit, yeah, but not too much. She hugged me on the balcony after I started sobbing right in front of her so that was fun.”

“Why were you sobbing?”

Trixie suddenly feels like she’s in a dark room, set up for interrogation. She feels she might as well tell her best friend about it, since mulling over the situation alone during the weekend did not help at all.

“Everything just hit me at once, and I am just so confused Kim-“

“So you still have feelings for her, huh?”

Kim asks the question with her eyebrows slightly raised, slurping on her noodles, and Trixie feels her heart swell. Kim Chi was never a judging type when it came to serious things, despite her jokes and judgment on every other occasion.

“I- I don’t know. I literally don’t know. It seems like those two years in Berlin did nothing to help me forget her. I feel like a dumbass.”

“And Pearl is in the picture.”

“And Pearl is in the picture.”

Trixie pokes at her own noodles unenthusiastically, sighing with a groan.

“I wish I had your problems.” Kim says then, and Trixie gapes at her with a scoff and an incredulous look on her face.

“Bitch!”

“Bitch nothing! You have these two gorgeous women fighting for you and you’re here being useless, complaining-“

“Katya isn’t fighting for me; I don’t think she even sees me like that.”

“Trixie please, she was here the first day you were back-“

“She didn’t know I was back, Kimberly, you’ve seen how surprised she was. And it doesn’t matter anyway; she went home with Bianca’s cousin that Adore invited only to hook them up so…”

“Oh. That sucks.”

Trixie half-shrugs, half-nods, shoving the fork full of noodles in her mouth. They both chew in silence for a couple of moments before Kim speaks up again.

“I still think you should talk to Pearl. This isn’t fair to her.”

“I know. I just don’t know how to bring it up. I think I’ll do it after their photoshoot thing on Friday.”

“Good idea. Oh! Speaking of which, I don’t think Brianna is going to make it for that.”

“Still sick? Yikes.”

“Yep. Adore will probably ask you to fill in, so just a heads up.”

“Why can’t you fill in, Kim? Katya and Pearl are both going to be there.” It’s futile to say that her pouting does not work on her best friend.

“I can’t, they will need a hair person and I do make up. But even better! You can look and them both and decide which one you wanna bone for the rest of your life.”

“Kimberly!” Trixie laughs loudly, splattering her noodles everywhere.

“What? It’s a win-win! And I’m not cleaning up your shit. You’re on your own.”

.

.

.

Kim was right, Adore does storm into the salon on Tuesday morning, begging Trixie to help her out with the photoshoot on Friday, and Trixie does not see the way of turning it down without seeming suspicious. Adore, despite being a stoner who talks slowly, is incredibly smart and intuitive, and Trixie could have sworn she gauged at least some of the feelings Trixie has for Katya. And, Adore being one of Pearl’s best friends, is definitely the worst person to get suspicious right now, since Trixie wants Pearl to find about everything from her and not anyone else. That is why she promises Adore to be there on Friday, and spends the rest of the week between preparing for it mentally and helping Pearl pack.

Pearl is busy enough not to notice the shift in Trixie’s behavior, or at least that’s what Trixie wishes, with her getting increasingly jittery about Friday and genuinely not knowing how it will all end. A large part of her hopes  in vain that whatever she felt during these past couple of weeks have just been emotions intensified by the loss of her aunt, and not something that could potentially change her life, make her lose Pearl and fuck up her friendship with Katya. She’s a mess, and she needs time she doesn’t have to process just how much of a mess she is.

When Friday finally rolls around, Trixie and Pearl go to the agency together, and Katya is the first one to greet them in the hallway, giving them both tight Katya hugs and looking much less tense than when she’s seen them at the party. Trixie wants to ask her about Kameron, but they barely get the chance to talk to each other for majority of the day. Katya, on the other hand, looks at Trixie with a newly found wonder Trixie can’t place, crinkles around her eyes she’s earned by constantly laughing, and Trixie finds herself wanting to know every single thing that makes Katya tick.

Watching Katya and Pearl work together is an… experience, and she cannot tear her eyes away when Katya runs to Pearl to fix strands of her puffy blonde hair or talks to her with her arms flailing all over the place. Pearl, being herself, feels absolutely unfazed by Katya’s chaotic energy and the way she bursts out laughing at whatever Katya says makes Trixie’s nerves spike. After talking to Kim on Monday, she knows that she needs to do something about this stupid situation, but now, looking at the two of them laughing when Pearl made a funny face and flipped Katya off, Trixie knows that at least one person will end up hurt. Love sucks.

Katya runs up to her during one of the breaks, begging her to do something with her bangs that keep falling into her eyes, and Trixie spends fifteen minutes laughing at the stubborn blonde strands, attracting curious glances from all of their friends. Katya watches no one else but her, murmuring jokes and egging her on even more, and Trixie swears that no one, not even Pearl, exists around them for a hot minute. Selfish.

Once the individual shots are done, the group shots follow, and Adore and Trixie watch the entire thing unfold, standing just off the side where Katya was kneeling and shouting instructions at the girls and Michelle is sitting and watching it happen.

“Katya’s insanely talented, man.” Adore comments, her arms folded, her and Trixie’s bags half-packed besides their feet. It’s the last set of the day, and Michelle promised to buy them all dinner afterward.

“She is, she’s always talked about how she wanted to be a photographer when I met her.”

“Oh yeah, you’ve known each other for a long time, right?”

“Three years, more or less. Violet brought her to the salon one day and she just kept coming back.”

“Until you left?”

Trixie looks over at Adore, and Adore’s looking at her with an expression Trixie can’t quite read.

“Yeah, I guess so. I didn’t really keep tabs on my American customers once I moved.”

“Uh huh.” Adore nods and looks away and at the girls again, and Trixie can’t help but feel a little bit uneasy.

“Is everything okay, Adore?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

It’s the first time Trixie has noticed a tiny bit of hostility from an otherwise chill Adore, and it makes her heart sink. She knows, she knows, she knows. It’s unsure how Adore knows, but it’s the only thing that would explain this behavior. Trixie opens her mouth and closes it again, and they don’t speak again until the set is done and everyone is doing a group hug and Trixie is painfully aware of Katya’s arm around her waist from her right.

Trixie and Pearl don’t stay for dinner, since Pearl’s plane is at 4 am, and Trixie is the one taking her, so they need time to get her all packed up. When they finally zip up the second and final suitcase hours later, Trixie can feel the heart in her throat and when Pearl comes to hug her, she knows that this is the time to make a decision. If she stays silent, she will take Pearl to the airport, kiss her goodbye, and they will be back to their long distance relationship until November.

It could be enough time to figure out her feelings, Trixie thinks in one fleeting moment as she hears Pearl’s heart beat under her cheek, but then remembers Kim’s words and how unfair it would be to the girl that has been nothing but kind to her. If they stay together, it might take weeks, months, even years until her feelings for Katya fade, and Trixie doesn’t know if she can bear kissing Pearl one more time with Katya on her mind. If they break up now, and Katya doesn’t like her back, Trixie will have to live with the consequences and it’s nothing less than she deserves with getting herself into this situation. And if Katya does like her, somewhere down the line… that scenario scares her as much as it excites her. That thought alone makes the final decision that much easier.

“Pearl?”

“Yeah babe?”

“What time is it?”

“Five minutes after midnight.  Do you want to go eat something? We still have time.”

“Sure. But uh…”

“What’s up, Trix?”

“We should talk.”

[whitecanary-lance]

BASICS.

Full name: Sara Quinn Lance

Nicknames: 

Age: 31

Date of birth: December 25, 1987

Zodiac sign: Capricorn 

Gender identity & pronouns: She/Her/Hers

Sexual orientation: Bisexual 

Faceclaim: Caity Lotz →

CHARACTER.

Relationship status: Single and content 

Place of birth: Starling City General 

Birth order: Second Born

Spoken languages: English, Latin, Arabic 

Accent: American 

Parents & siblings: Quentin Lance ( father ), Dinah Lance ( mother ), Laurel Lance (sister)

Hometown: Star City 

Key relationships: Laurel Lance ( sister ), Felicity Smoak ( pseudo-sister ), Nyssa al Ghul ( ex lover ), Jason Todd ( ex boyfriend ), Ray Palmer ( friend/teammate ), Amaya Jiwe ( friend/teammate), Nate Haywood ( friend/teammate ), Mick Rory ( friend/teammate ), Jax Jefferson ( pseudo brother / former teammate ), Martin Stein ( friend/ former teammate ), Carter Hall ( friend/teammate ), Kendra Saunders ( friend/teammate ), Leonard Snart ( friend/teammate ), Candice Reeves ( teammate ). →

PERSONALITY.

Positive traits: sly, steadfast, adventurous, loving 

Negative traits: tactless, scornful, extreme, sordid 

MBTI type (x): ISFP -- The Composer 

Moral alignment (x): Chaotic Neutral 

Enneagram type (x): The Protector 

Temperament (x): Sanguine 

Big Five personality type (x) Openness  →

PHYSICAL.

Hair color & style: Sara, naturally, has dirty blonde hair with the ends lightened with all the sun exposure. 

Facial hair: None-- but let’s be real if she did, she’d still be beautiful as hell. 

Eye color: Blue

Complexion: Fair with freckles along the tops of her cheeks and along the bridge of her nose. 

Ethnicity: Eastern European/ French 

Height: 5′6

Weight: 126

Physique: Sara is a tiny person but she carries a more muscular build. 

Strengths: Physically speaking, Sara has a mastery in long and short sword. An extensive knowledge in tai chi and other mixed martial arts. Due to her time spent abroad, Sara’s capacity to endure different climates and elemental changes has formed her ability to adapt. She also has a sickeningly high pain tolerance.

Weaknesses: Sara’s inability to connect on an emotional level when dealing with her own demons leaves her open to the bitter chill; this affects the way in which she deals with certain moral situations. 

Movement: Fluid yet precise much like in the teachings of iaido ( a style of japanese martial arts )

Mannerisms & habits: Sara is an excitable human being. She talks with her hands and pretty much every part of her body when she feels like it’s needed. She can also communicate feelings and thoughts through subtle movements. Sara doesn’t allow life to swallow her faith in the future. It’s within that class of thought that allows her to being life and humor into everything she does. 

Tattoos: Sara has two little ‘X’s on her wrist as well as a small canary tattoo on the inner corner of her heel. 

Piercings: Piercings are prone to being ripped out. She used to have multiple piercings as a teenage.

Scars & birthmarks: Sara is scarred over 35% of her body. Small marred patches of skin along her back from crash on Lian Yu. Long slash marks across her back from her initiation into the League. A cluster of shrapnel removed and scarred along her calf from a grenade in Algiers.  A single bullet hole on her shoulder from a .38. A wide gash like scar from being impaled by a spear. 

Clothing & style: Sara has quite the street style way of dressing. A lot of henleys, utility jackets, and combat boots. Considering her time on the waverider, her chose of dress is also dictated by where they are geographically in time.  →

BEHAVIOUR  & HABITS

Personal habits/addictions: Sara is a pacer by nature. She likes to constantly be moving. Moreover, it’s one of the last lessons of the League. You couldn’t be killed if you’re always on the move. She also has a slight addiction to anything overly sweet ( like gummy bears ). 

Morning routine: Sara starts her day reviewing the temporal map that outlines all the anachronisms with Gideon. While the rest of the crew is still sound asleep, she trains in the cargo bay for about an hour and a half. Finally, when everyone’s wake, she reconvenes in the Captain’s quarters for some zen time. 

Afternoon: By the afternoon, something has either busted, broke, or is on fire. Sara is usually zoom in and out of time. 

Evening routine: Some evenings don’t find their end. If there’s a tear in time, she can hardly feel the shift between day and night in all the chaos. 

Sleep habits: Sara’s sleep averages between three or so hours. She’s very restless with all the pressure that came with her position on the ship. On top of her duties, Sara is naturally a night owl. It’s the time she feels the most herself. 

Does this character snore? Sometimes. 

Any special talents or skills? Besides being an amazing lover ( lol ). Sara is quite the baker. It was a passion she had before stepping onto the Gambit. There weren’t many things that she could best Laurel except when it came to cooking. Sara often used to watch their mother in the kitchen when they were young; it all seemed to stick. 

What is s/he particularly unskilled at? Sara isn’t particularly skilled in the art of compromise. It’s the Star City in her that coated her with an unfathomable amount of stubbornness. 

Does s/he have a supernatural ability? If yes, describe it. Does being kick ass qualify? 

→

OTHER

Current address: Sara currently is a resident of the Waverider. The Time Bureau wasn’t tried to collect the stolen time ship ( woo! ). When she isn’t floating about time, Sara shacked up with Star City’s other technical genius, Barbara Gordon in her old watch tower. 

Does s/he rent or own? As Captain--she technically owns the waverider. 

Does s/he live with anyone? If so, who? Her team of course! 

What is their bedroom like? Sara’s quarters are decked out in chrome, per the general aesthetic of the waverider. She has pictures of her family scattered along the love hanging curve of the ceiling. Her belongs nestled in a black duffle by her bed for a rapid exit.

FOR FUN: What side would they land on?

Neutral

Morally Grey

[grapevynerendezvous]

Chocolate Watch Band - No Way Out

Chocolate Watch Band (Watchband) is considered by some to be the ultimate Garage Band. They played early, if not the earliest psychedelic punk music.They had a heavier take on responding to the British Invasion that was in full swing when they formed. In their early stages they were interested in the music of The Who, but it is obvious that they owe a debt to The Rolling Stones, and perhaps were America’s answer to the hard edged blues-rock and swagger of the Stones. Their recordings certainly supported that, and their live performances reflected it as well. As a warm up, and to show their abilities to producer Ed Cobb down in Los Angeles in 1966, the first song they recorded tracks for was Chuck Berry’s Come On. This also happened to be the first song the Stones ever recorded. - As written about by Vladimir Bogdanov, Stephen Thomas Erlewine and Chris Woodstra. The style of music they played has been defined in a number of ways, garage rock, proto-punk, psychedelic, (definitive) psychedelic punk. In the bands’ website History - The Story, it even goes so far as to label their music as “Anglophilic blueswailing”. Music critic Bruce Eder said “they were a unique phenomenon -- based on their recordings, they were a world-class garage punk act, if that's possible, beating the Ramones to the punch by a decade, He further “described the material on the album as "highly potent, slashing, exciting, clever pieces of music”. While I’ve not seen it mentioned I would go so far as to surmise that they may have been influenced by the psychedelic blues-rock offered by The Yardbirds as well. Eder further says “…the album (No Way Out) was largely overlooked at the time of its release and had gone out of print by the early 1970s’, By the early ‘80s I started hearing about the demand for their original albums which eventually spread across the planet. Eder said that around that time their albums “were changing hands for $100 apiece or more.” In later writings I have seen up to $1000 being estimated. I firmly concluded early on that no way would I ever sell my copy of No Way Out.

Before going further it must be noted that the use of Watch Band in their name appeared in two places in particular, the albums No Way Out and inner Mystique. It is apparent in all other ways that the name as created by the band early on is Chocolate Watchband. In no place I’ve researched have I seen a reference or explanation for this. In my opinion it was either an error on the part of label and/or producer, or it was done intentionally. The latter would make some sense since producer Ed Cobb certainly did a lot of rogue tampering when it came to the production of their recordings. There was another band called The Chocolate Watch Band based in London, England. That group released two singles, ironically in 1967, the same year No Way Out was issued. I seriously doubt that the San Jose CA-based CWB was aware of that band. In any case, the name Chocolate Watchband (or CWB) will hereon be used.

When I discovered their album No Way Out in my favorite record store across the road from my high school it must have only been out a short time. I’m not sure I had heard of them, but the album was attractive enough to listen to and I bought it immediately. It’s possible that a friend of mine may have known about them because I found out pretty quickly that they were “local”, since I lived in Palo Alto, in Santa Clara County (aka, in time, Silicone Valley).

The band was originally formed at Foothill College in Los Altos Hills in 1965 by Mark Loomis and Ned Torney. This was prior to my tenure at Foothill, but I have heard they played there many times.  As to how the band name came into being I happened to find this information from Tim Abbott: “The story is that the band was sitting around the Owls Nest up at Foothill College trying to come up with a name for the band. The idea was to find two cool words that sounded good together. Somebody said chocolate and somebody said watch()band and that was it”. Chocolate Watchband eventually dissolved when Torney and the lead singer at the time, Danny Phay, moved over to a band called The Otherside (The Other Side in some examples) followed by another CWB member Jo Kemling. This left Loomis, drummer Gary Andrijasevich and bassist Rick Young with no band. After a foray into The Shandels Mark Loomis decided to resurrect Chocolate Watchband, calling on Andrijasevich once again and pulling Shandel bandmates bassist Bill ‘Flo” Flores and Topsiders guitarist Dave ‘Sean” Tolby into the fold. The final piece was added when Loomis recruited David Aguilar as lead vocalist. Aguilar, who had just become the lead singer in the band The Mourning Reign, explains how it came about:  “…as I moved around the stage at the Brass Rail with a tambourine in one hand and a microphone in the other, I saw two guys with long blond hair, Sean Tolby  and Mark Loomis in the front row of the audience watching me. I didn't think much of it. There was always other band members hanging around checking out the competition. Later that evening, while I was struggling with chemistry homework in my bedroom, my Dad called up the stairs and said there was someone on the phone for me. It was Mark Loomis. He said he was forming a new band called the 'Chocolate Watchband'. Was I interested in joining it? It took almost a nanosecond to decide. "Hell Yes!" "Good" he said. "We meet next Thursday night at 6 PM at my house. Here's my address. " That was all we said to each other. When I drove up four days later, drums and cymbals were being thrown out the front door onto the lawn. I could hear yelling going on inside the house and a woman wailing in her high pitched voice. Out came the last remnant of the old Watchband, a drummer cursing and flipping off some invisible entity inside the house. I was thinking, wow this is one hell of a reception! When I got inside, everything was peaceful. Mark had a broad smile on his face. He was standing in front of his mother whose face was redder then a ripe tomato. All he said to me was, "Well, that's done. Let me show you where we're going to practice.” He led me past the kitchen, through the family room and out into the garage. In those days, the garage was where all good and bad bands ended up. …Mark's garage was awesome. No cars, no crap, just a garage with soundproof walls, carpet remnants on the cement floor and two little neighbor girls ages 11 and 12 with pimples on their chins sitting in lawn chairs with wide grins on their faces. It was time to rock and roll!”

The new line-up made their debut performance in February 1966, quickly becoming one the hottest live acts in the wider Bay Area and beyond. During their brief heyday period in 1966-1967 Chocolate Watch Band played many concerts, including at Fillmore Auditorium, Oakland Coliseum, The Whiskey in L.A,, Coconut Grove in Santa Cruz, and others. The played bills with The Mothers of Invention, Jefferson Airplane, The Grateful Dead and The Doors among others. They also performed at the first rock music festival in the United States, KFRC’s Magic Mountain Festival at Mount Tamalpais in Marin County CA. After the Mothers gig at The Fillmore, Bill Graham wanted CWB to be one of his personal house bands at his new venue, Fillmore East, along. with the Airplane and the Dead. They had just signed a contract to be managed by local promoter Ron Roupe a week before so that did not happen. Roupe went on to secure the record deal with Green Grass Productions which lead to their meeting producers Ed Cobb and Ray Harris, according to Richie Unterberger. By the fall of ’66 they got signed up by Cobb to the Capitol Records’ subsidiary Tower Records. Two singles, Sweet Young Thing  backed by Dylan’s It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue (1966) and Misty Lane backed by She Weaves a Tender Trap (1967) were released and failed to chart to add to the already recorded, but yet to be released, Come On.

During this period the band was featured in two Sam Katzman films released by American International Pictures. The first one, Riot on Sunset Strip, an “exploitation movie par excellence rushed out to theaters in early 1967” which, according to Eder included “a couple of excellent numbers, "Don't Need Your Lovin'" and "Sitting There Standing," and (the band) managed to appear in the movie, which has since become a '60s cult classic.” It was at the height of their musical powers. The next film, The Love-Ins, was released later in July. The band was supposed to have a major role in it, but most of that was cut before release. It is rumored that it was due to some band misbehavior on the set. However their song, Are You Gonna Be There (At the Love-In),” ended up being used in the movie according to Eder. When asked by Amanda Sheppard for her 2018 Article “No Way Out for the Chocolate Watchband!” in PleaseKillMe,  “Is it true that you started a food fight on the back lot of MGM while you guys were filming Riot On The Sunset Strip?” David Aguilar had this to say, “Yes, I may have started a food fight but what can I say…I was a young rocker in a strange land! Important Safety Note: You would think a hamburger has stable aerodynamics when tossed…it doesn’t….probably the pickles are to blame.” I guess the possibility of the band creating havoc on the set was real.

Along about this time Chocolate Watchband was also recording tracks for their first record. What ‘The Story’ on the band’s website history site calls “mysterioso studio trickery on (‘the’) (be)half of producer Ed Cobb” could also apply to other various details about the No Way Out recording project in general. There is no specific information about studio recording dates, exact release date, and what songs actually featured the band. Per one source the recording period was in mid-1967, which would be true, but not very precise. Based on what information there is, four of the tracks on the album actually featured the entire band. According to biographer Bruce Eder only two songs, Come On and Gone and Passes By made it to the album intact. Amanda Sheppard points out that the label, pressuring Ed Cobb to rush production, lead him “to record multiple songs he wrote with the sound engineers, while the band was out on tour”. There are actually two instrumentals written by engineers Richard Podolor and Bill Bennett, plus two more written by studio musician Don Bennett and a co-writer. Don Bennett’s lead vocals were also recorded for at least three of the tracks and ended up on the record rather than David Aguilar’s. This was notedly true concerning what is generally considered  the most popular song, Let’s Talk About Girls. On some tracks entirely different musicians were used in the recordings. The song No Way Out is stated in one source as the only composition by the band, but Ed Cobb credited it to himself, which is what became official. There is even one source according to Eder that says “Frontman Aguilar began writing material for the band, including originals like….”No Way Out….”. He further states that it was “an instrumental spawned from a studio warm-up, with spontaneous Aguilar vocals, that Cobb later took credit for”. In his AllMusic biography of the band Eder says it was “Cobb-authored”. Mysterioso indeed.

Amanda Sheppard writes, “To further complicate matters, Chocolate Watchband’s label, Tower Records, had mistaken the group for a black rhythm and blues band and farmed out their distribution to Uptown Records who sold their albums in Oakland, instead of their top market in San Jose. Uptown even booked the Watchband on soul revues with Jackie Wilson and The Coasters.” In the same article with Sheppard she asked David Aguilar about soul revues: He replied, “We did one soul revue that I can remember. We had just been signed by the Attarack Corporation, we had cut some tracks in Los Angeles and in some bizarre turn of fate, someone at Capitol Records apparently looked at our name and decided what the ‘chocolate’ must indicate in our name, THIS WAS A BLACK ROCK AND ROLL BAND. They assigned us to the Uptown Label, a distributor of black rhythm & blues and 50’s black performers. Chuck Berry was notorious for showing up at a show, playing with a locally hired band, and then getting paid in cash before he left the theater. So, we stepped in and played as his backup band…paying off the theater bouncer to get rid of the original hired band when they showed up to play. It worked! The shows were set in the ‘50’s revue set-up…lots of performers, 3-4 songs, and then the next group came on stage. With Chuck, we did “Johnny B. Goode”, “Little Queenie”, “Sweet Little Sixteen”, and “Roll Over Beethoven”. The Watchband played “I’m a Man”, “Little Red Rooster”, “Better Man Than I”, and “I’m Not Like Everybody Else”, which really fit for that show!”

About the time the album came out Loomis, Andrijasevich and Aguilar had all left the band. It had become clear that Loomis preferred a more melodic style of music and he and Andrijasevich ended up in a folk-rock band for awhile, The Tingle Guild, with early CWB vocalist Danny Phay. Since there was still a heavy performance schedule to fulfill guitarist Tim Abbott, drummer Mark Whittaker and vocalist Chris Flinders (members of the San Francisco Bay Blues Band) joined the remaining Flores and Tolby and the band. While being somewhat different, the band maintained a level of success. Abbott and Flinders left the band before the end of 1967 however, and Aguilar came back briefly, but the band was essentially history by the end of the year.

A memory I have about the No Way Out album involves a party that included primarily members of the high school choir which I was in, and our friends. The party was at the home of one of my choir mates, She and two of her sisters were all friends of mine in high school. I brought along some record albums, amongst them was No Way Out. I put side one on and when the second cut, the bands’ wicked version of Wilson Picketts’ Midnight Hour, came on I suddenly found myself being asked to play it again, and again, and again. There were some people there who just couldn’t get enough of it. I don’t know, maybe it was the weed. No one else seemed to care so I, and a few other people, put it on several times throughout the night. Luckily, other music got played as well.

I recall hearing about a new drummer joining CWB not long after I got the album, and that he had attended my high school. The name was familiar and one day I was walking near my house and I ran into him outside his. He had graduated that year, two years before I did. I decided to ask him and he said that he had joined CWB. It turned out to be brief, but it was cool that I had a neighbor who was in Chocolate Watchband. Around 2010 or 2011 I got to know Gary Andrijasevich and Tim Abbott. Gary lives in Santa Cruz and is still an active percussionist. I met him when I saw him playing with one of the bands he regularly plays with, EXTRA LARGE. He also plays with other bands at times, like my friends Beach Cowboys.

Chocolate Watch Band has been playing off and on since 1999 and after I became publicist at the now-defunct Don Quixote’s in Felton CA I did some research into what they were up to. I discovered that Tim Abbott was now the ongoing guitarist for them. I decided to reach out to him and we communicated about the potential for them playing DQ’s. Eventually they were scheduled to play thanks to my friend DJ Sid Presley, but due to David Aguilars’ acute health issues it was canceled. I later met up with Tim when CWB premiered at San Francisco’s The Chapel in 2015, seeing them once more in 2019 just as they were releasing their newest album, “Sweet Young Thing”. Prior to that I got to see Chocolate Watch Band for the first times twice on the same day in 2002. They played a co-bill with The Electric Prunes presented by the BayPop Festival at The Great American Music Hall in SF. That afternoon both bands played at Amoeba Records in Berkeley. I picked up CWB’s 2000 ‘Get Away’ album written primarily by David Aguilar at Great American that night.

Chocolate Watchband is alive and well, recording singles and making videos real time as I write this, Tim Abbott told me. There is just no way out of it, folks.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Chocolate_Watchband

https://www.thechocolatewatchband.com

https://www.thechocolatewatchband.com/history

https://www.allmusic.com/artist/the-chocolate-watchband-mn0000774791/biography

https://pleasekillme.com/chocolate-watchband/

https://rateyourmusic.com/artist/the_chocolate_watchband 

No Way Out full album https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FaO2yDAia8

LP31