#i was listening to jolene one day and just came up with the idea

[poetlcs]

2024 album listens

Recording all the albums I listened to in full for the first time in 2024. Albums released this year are marked with a *

Making Movies by Dire Straits. 5/5 Top 3: Romeo and Juliet, Hand to Hand, Tunnel Of Love

Light, Dark, Light Again by Angie McMahon 4/5 Top 3: Saturn Returning, Divine Fault Line, Staying Down Low I liked this album but I thought some songs sounded a little samey samey. It reminded me of Punisher a lot.

I Put a Spell on You by Nina Simone 4/5 Top 3: Feelin' Good, One September Day, July Tree I've listened to a lot of the songs on this album but never the whole thing top to bottom. I love her voice so much. I just think some of the best songs on this album are a LOT better then some of the lesser songs.

Summer Days by San Cisco. 3/5 top 3: summer days, lost without you, high I love San Cisco but lately their music hasn't hit as much. I thought this was a fairly so so album. Songs were nice but it felt a little uninspired

MADRA by newdad. 4.5/5 top 3: nosebleed, angel, sickly sweet BANGER of an album. Super cohesive with some really interesting riffs and bits and bobs on each song. I was shocked to see this is a debut album. one of those albums where you immediately go back to relisten to the songs. only took the 0.5 away cos I think it's slightly too long

Loss of Life by MGMT. 3/5 top 3: dancing in babylon, bubblegum dog, nothing changes It's okay - I just thought it didn't really stick. Like not much REALLY stood out

eternal sunshine by ariana grande. 4/5 top 3: supernatural, I wish I hated you, we can't be friends & bye This was close to being perfect but I really think it needed a powerful ballad in the middle and the writing to me was okay in parts but overrall i really liked it. her vocals sound amazing this is the first ari album I've truly enjoyed since thank u next

the rise and fall of a midwest princess by chappell roan 4.5/5 top 3: after midnight, red wine supernova, coffee bit late to this one IM SORRY but wow this is such a fun and excellent album. I couldn't stop smiling the entire way through. I love that it also has some more slow and intimate moments too. Really embodying the idea of the rise and fall in the way the tone goes up/down sad/happy you know. It feels both familiar and new at the same time which I love. Sort of reminded me of melodrama in the structure which I LOVE. The ONLY reason I took off the 0.5 is because I feel the start of the album was a lot stronger then the end. I even think possibly one song could be cut. But it's very good! loved it!

grace by jeff buckley. 4.5/5 top 3: lover, you should've come over, hallelujah, forget her I've probably listened to 70% of this album just never sat down to listen to it all in a row. anyways LYSCO/Hallelujah has to be one of the craziest back to back song pairings ever. This is suchh a beautiful album my ONLY issue is I don't like eternal life and don't think it fits the vibe. Amazing album though

cowboy carter by beyonce. 4/5 top 3: texas hold em, bodyguard, blackbiird I thought the production of this was the highlight. Also loved how stylistic it was, I love a concept album. Thought the first half was stronger and it's too long, which is why it's a 4 star. Blackbiird cover was GORGEOUS, Jolene cover I don't love as much. The original tracks are great with a feww I don't love as much. Overall very good! I will be listening a lot

found heaven by conan grey. 3/5 top 3: killing me, winner, alley rose I think I wanted to like this more than I did. I really love new wave and the production was GREAT, literally sounded like a song off an 80s album. But I overall found it kind of derivative. It was like oh yep thats the elton song, thats the joy division song, thats the queen song. It felt almost inauthentic at times, and maybe it's just because cowboy carter just came out and showed us all how it's done but it just felt too much like copying music rather than being inspired by. Some of the songs were big misses for me, and the highlights were definitely the ones with more vulnerable lyrics and singing.

the tortured poets department. not rated yet top 3: but daddy I love him, down bad, fortnight I am so torn on this album. There is some songs I love a lot, and some I don't care for much. This is hard for me to say because I LOVE Taylor and I'm an original fan. But this synth pop sound isn't my fave. I found myself irritated by the sound of some songs, especially fresh out the slammer and my boy only breaks his favourite toys. I don't like how with Antonoff's production I can recognise familiar melodies and synths from previous songs. I was hoping this song would be the return of some real GUITAR AND DRUM and it isn't as much. That said, I've been streaming it a lot. I like how confessional the song writing it (despite some clunky moments) and a florence feature is so exciting to me. I love the modernised love story with BDILH and I think I can do it with a broken heart is a fun song. I also liked whose afraid of little old me as a concept song. I think it's hard for me because I know I'm biased toward Taylor and will ultimately find something to love in everything she does, and I think for her this was a blurt and drop album. and so you just have to take it for what it is. But. I am really hoping for something a little different with the next release.

the tortured poets department: the anthology. not rated yet top 3: the black dog, the prophecy, the bolter Some of the above applies but I think overall I like this second album more. I think the black dog is one of her best releases yet and the prophecy is heartbreaking. It made me cry upon listen. I love Aaron Dessner. I do think there are some forgettable songs on this side as well though.

Silence is Loud by Nia Archives. 3/5 top 3: forbidden feelingz, cards on the table, nightmates I was surprised by this, the single doesn't sound like most of the album. This had more singing/talking than I expected and I kinda wish it had more dance/bangers. I did really like some songs though, but others were a bit forgettable. I think some more time with this could change my opinion a little though, though i'm not sure if that time will be agreeing it's forgettable or finding myself uncovering a little more here.

Oxalis EP by Swapmeet only 5 songs - mellow and laid back. Sort of a perfect driving in the car at night sort of sound, and I think I might revisit this album in that setting. Honestly don't think this was long enough to say much more. I'm intrigued, I'll look out for more! But I can't see this being a huge thing I revisit.

Fever by Kylie Minogue. 4/5 top 3: love at first sight, in your eyes, can't get you out of my head but duh so also more more more and dancefloor pop perfection I fear. unbelievably catchy melodies. I knew the popular songs ofc but the whole album really is a gem. I love the dance sound and cohesiveness of this album.

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT by Billie Eilish. 2/5 top 3: CHIHIRO, birds of a feather, bittersuite I wish I had liked this more. I'm ultimately not sure if Billie is really an artist I vibe with after I also found happier then ever a let down. I honestly just found this a little boring and repetitive. The singing style doesn't quite work for me. THAT SAID, the production in parts was excellent, specifically CHIHIRO I find myself coming back to a lot because I like how it sounds soo much. So that song is a real highlight for me in an okay album. I sort of just feel this album is lacking a story, I don't know what she was trying to tell me with this exactly. Maybe I'm just not the target audience.

[flowerygoblincroissant]

Weeks had passed since I had been cursed by my ex-husband's mistress, telling me I could either take him back so he could have my riches and she would lift my curse or have my name despised for all eternity so no one would ever love me. I didn’t want to be in what I quickly realized was a one-sided marriage, so I decided to rush into the forest where I heard the fae lived. My goal wasn't to trick the fae into taking the name, I didn’t have it in me to do so, but to offer something for them to take my name, even if what I had was depleted at the moment as the curse took over my once loving father, who held all my family's wealth. Desperately, I searched the woods for any signs of the fae, but I began to lose hope and gain fear that even the fae were affected by such a spell placed on me. Slowly, but surely, I gave up, resigning to try to live alone in the forest, though my mental health was never good when I was alone for too long, it was better than trying to befriend people and being chased out. As I sat on a log, trying to figure out how to make a shelter to live in for the rest of my life, when a very beautiful woman with long burnt orange hair, green eyes, and flawless skin came up and sat down next to me. I blushed as such a gorgeous woman next to me, especially since I had been casted away by many because the witch my husband loved so dearly.

"What brings a pretty woman like you to this part of the forest, you know the fae live here, correct?" She asked.

"They probably hate me so badly that they want to stay away, I'm actually surprised you're saying such nice things to me." I replied.

"Nonsense, why would you say such a thing?"

I explained my plight and she listened calmly and quietly, her kindness in contrast to the cruelty I had suffered at the doing of that witch bringing me to tears. I felt compelled to tell her everything, from how my husband told me he loved her and stayed for my money to the curse took hold a few days after that witch casted it to why I was in the woods.

"Why not just trick a fae into taking your name, I'm sure that witch would if in your shoes." She asked.

"I couldn’t do that, just like I couldn’t be with someone who only loved me for my family's money and truly loves the witch." I replied.

"What is that witch's name, by the way?"

"Jolene Foster."

Her eyebrows narrowed at the name, but then she smiled sweetly at me, though I could tell by the look in her eyes that an idea was forming in her mind.

"I see... tell you what, I'll take your name, then you stay here for a moment while I take care of something and we can discuss what I want in exchange once I return." She said.

"Wait, you're a... it's not really surprising now that I think of it- I'll take your deal." I replied.

"Wonderful, so can you please give me your name?"

"Vanessa."

She smirked as I felt an odd emptiness, but a replaceable one, and it was followed by an even stranger sense of relief, I couldn’t help but hug her tightly.

"Thank you." I cried.

"Of course, my little Rose, now if you'll excuse me, I need to get going... I'm running late for a meeting with Jolene that once was regretting, now I'm all too keen to keep it." She mused.

With that, she disappeared in a cloud of butterflies, leaving me to sit amongst the trees and figure out a new name to give myself, landing on one quickly. Soon, animals started to come around, unlike how they attempted to hide from me whenever they saw me come their way. I stayed put like I promised, and by nightfall, she had returned to me with a look of mischievous triumph on her face, the moonlight covering her in a silver glow.

"You actually stayed, very good, my little Rose, have you come up with a new name yet?" She mused.

"I-I did, I think I like Rose, you calling me that makes me happy..."

She beamed and my heart felt like it was soaring, unlike the hate I feared I would be feeling towards her with my name stuck to her.

"I do have one question... why I don't feel even an ounce of hate for you? Does that curse not work on the fae?" I asked.

"No, but it was delayed enough for that meeting of mine to go perfectly... so now I have a new name and I've decided on what I want from you in return for taking yours!" She replied.

I thought about it for a moment, she met up with Jolene, the witch who had cursed me, and came back with a different name than mine, the pieces clicking instantly.

"You took Jolene's name, didn't you?" I asked.

"Yes, she actually used to be married to my brother, it was the reason she became a witch... but then she broke his heart once the year she gave in exchange for power passed... all for a certain human... then she had the gall to call me for a favor of giving her money so she could marry the man!" She explained.

The nerve of that witch and my ex-husband had my blood boiling, the thought of them clearly pissing off the beautiful fae in front of me just as much. However, her scowl turned back into a playful smirk after she took a deep breath and collected herself.

"So I gave her the thousand she said she needed... in exchange for her taking the name I had and giving me hers... she should be feeling the effects by the morning." She continued.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the evil genius of it all, that witch had made the spell unbreakable when I told her and my ex I would not remarry him, making it even extend to anyone who could truly love me regardless of the curse. The witch had bragged about how she and my husband knew they were each other's true love, which hurt at first, but had gone away with the curse's impact on my life, I didn’t care if they were true loves, that meant they'd suffer together.

"Oh, that's brilliant, Jolene, you're amazing!" I mused.

"Thank you, my little Rose... and that brings me to what I want in exchange for taking your name from you." She said.

"Whatever it is you want, I'll happily do everything in my power to give, you honestly deserve it!"

She smiled as she took my hand, I was thankful the moonlight wasn't enough to show how hard her gentle touch made my cheeks and ears burn red.

"Excellent because it shouldn't be too hard, I want you to live with me for a month." She said.

"Th-that's all you want?" I asked.

"Fine, I'll make it a year and a half then."

"You could've said a million, and I would've agreed to it."

She smiled and we somehow ended up in a huge palace covered in beautiful flowers and trees, butterflies fluttering about the room from flower to flower.

"Welcome to our home, my little Rose! Come, I have to give you a tour, you're going to love it here!" She chimed.

I couldn’t help but feel happy as she lead me around the palace we called home, her entire being lighting up bright enough to make New York shine in a power outage. Time passed and I felt the crush I had on her grow into full-on love, I couldn’t get enough of her smile, her laugh, everything about her was incredible. I even met her brother, the apparent King of the Fae, and we became close friends, bonding over our love of his sister and the trauma we had been through. The other fae in the court were really kind, albeit eccentric, but they always made me feel like I truly belonged there, despite the fact I was still human. I ended up confessing my love to her and she returned it, offering me the chance to live there with her forever, but we decided together that we would just enjoy our time together until it ended. Soon the year and a half came to an end and I stood at the entrance to the palace that Jolene and I had shared, taking a deep breath and knowing what I wanted to do. Jolene stood by me with a bittersweet smile on her face, taking hold of my hand like the night we first met, it still made me melt like it did then.

"I'm going to miss having you around, my Rose." She said.

"I'll miss you too, Jolene... you know, it's going to be a full moon just like the night we met, I wonder if the place we met will look the same." I replied.

"I'm sure it will."

She kissed my hand and I opened the door, feeling confident in what I was going to do and knowing she'd soon understand what that was. Returning home, I noticed a whole lot had changed, though the people there held no more ill will to me, I felt very little connection to them. I learned they nearly chased now Vanessa out of town along with my ex, her now husband, and that they lived in squalor on the outskirts of town. My ex saw me walking up to my father's house and immediately rushed to me, begging me to take him back, but no curse was needed for me to feel disgusted. He and that witch wanted to curse me together in order to keep me stuck with him while he was free to be with her, but now I had a lover and friends who supported me. I immediately shook him off and was welcomed into my father's home, where I explained where I was and what I was planning to do after everything that had happened. Though he was sad about certain aspects, he happily respected my decisions and gave me what I came to ask him for and a messenger dove in order to still contact him, offering residence in his home if I ever needed it. I gave him a hug and promised to visit him as much as I could before I set off on my own once again, heading home. The smile on Jolene's face when she saw me sit down next to her in the place we first met like she did that year before was priceless, her kissing me gently made it all the more worth it.

"What brings a pretty woman like you to this part of the forest, you know the fae live here, correct?" I mused, repeating her words.

"You came back to me, my little Rose." She said tearing up.

"Of course, I came to make a deal with you, Jolene... I'll give you the rest of my life... in exchange for yours."

I knelt down and held out my mother's ring to her, smiling as she pulled me up and kissed me with a wonderful fire fueling it as I put the ring on her finger. We took very little time to get married and I became a fae as soon as we became each other's wives, her brother merrily officiating the wedding as my father gave me away after meeting Jolene and getting his blessing. I couldn’t help but feel lucky as I laid next to her as she slept in our honeymoon suite, finding love after being cursed to feel hate, and I was ready to start the rest of my life with her.

A witch cursed your name to be hated for all of eternity. So of course, the first thing you do is willingly give it to a fae.

[aceindenial]

idk if this has been said already, but wba jolene but an angst jegulus fic with jily endgame and james falls out of love with regulus and regulus knows he is but cant do anything to stop him

just a fun little thought yk

[thenukacolachallenge]

fun facts about Cash that i’m thinking about to distract myself from writing fic(bc i am a menace to myself):

putting under a read more bc this bitch got long lmao

-Cash works as a drug and alcohol runner to a lot of different companies and organizations in the MK universe, including the Black Dragon.

-she gives literally everyone she meets a nickname. Kabal is “Kabobble”, Erron is “Fellow Yeehaw”(since theyre both into cowboy shit) or “Old Man” once she learns how old he really is, Kano is either “Bossman” if she’s trying to stay on his good side or “Pissboy” if not.

-she is not related to Erron at all, even though they both have the surname Black and dress in cowboy hats. most of the BD base either doesn’t believe them when they tell people this, or assume they’re fucking(they’re definitely not lmao, Cash is bi but mostly into women)

-Cash has a big mouth and loves to be goofy and talkative. she punctuates almost every doofy thought she has with awkward finger guns. she’s very much a “class clown” type of person. she just likes to shoot shit and make people laugh.

-she has good luck powers(like Domino but way dumber in execution). she’s never been able to tangibly prove it, since how the fuck do you measure luck? but her adoptive dad(Pops Black, she calls him) called her “his good luck charm” growing up, and one time while on a drug bender in the desert she was approached by a random very shiny woman and told she was “an avatar of good fortune”. she still has no idea if that actually happened or not.

-once time Kabal went to take a piss in the middle of the night and found Cash passed out in his bathtub. nobody knows how she got in there to this day(she was incredibly drunk at the time). nothing was stolen so she wasn’t in there to rob him. he’s still pissed about how badly it scared the shit out of him. Cash was mostly just happy she didn’t puke on the floor.

-She’s done a few scavenging runs for Kano on the side, finding rare and valuable artifacts in hard to reach places. she always found more than she came for, bc of the whole good luck thing. as a result he’s tried to recruit her into the Black Dragon by force a few times, but she always manages to both escape and cause problems for him at the same time inadvertently. after the third time, which actually caused damage to the Black Dragon compound, he decided to stop trying and just let her work freelance before something really expensive got destroyed.

-Cash LOVES music. it’s her favorite thing in the whole world, even more than booze and other fun chemicals. she’s a huge fan of old country music(Johnny Cash, Marty Robbins, Dolly Parton, Loretta Lynn etc), but also loves funk, blues, grunge, and desert rock. Queens of the Stone Age are her favorite modern band. she can play multiple different instruments, including the harmonica, both acoustic and electric guitar, and bass. she’s trying to learn banjo and piano at the moment. she’ll occasionally bring a beat-up old guitar or cheap keyboard on her visits to the BD compound and play some music for anyone who wants to listen. since it’s usually old country covers, it’s usually just Erron listening.

-She once started a bar fight bc someone said Dolly Parton was overrated.

-she was raised by a hired gun, so guns are her go-to weapons. she usually keeps a shotgun and a pistol on her. she also names all her weapons. her shotgun is named Jolene(after the Dolly song obvs) and her pistol is named Valerie(after an Amy Winehouse cover). she also has a machete. its name is Betty. she will get mad if you make fun of the names.

-the first time she met Erron, she managed to fleece a good amount of money from him playing blackjack, since she didn’t tell him about her luck powers. he was not happy when he found out. she managed to smooth things over by bringing him some really nice Outworld whiskey next time she delivered to the BD compound. he still plays card games with her but refuses to bet actual money, instead just using beer bottle caps(Cash collects them). he has yet to actually win a game against her.

-loves to dance. cannot dance at all. it’s like watching a drunk suburban dad at a summer backyard party: all elbows and shoulders. she still does it anyways, bc dancing is fun, and she likes to do dumb shit that makes other people laugh, even if it’s at her expense. ironically enough, she’s much more coordinated on stage with an instrument in her hand.

-literally always has a cigarette in her hand. during the daytime she’s got coffee on her at all times; at night, it’s a bottle or flask of some kind of alcohol(usually tequila, whiskey, or beer). she and Kano constantly make fun of each others’ choices in beer(when they’re not pissed at each other anyways).

-was raised by a part-time cattle rancher, part-time hired gun out in the Mojave desert, and thus has little idea about modern pop culture. she hasn’t seen most movies or tv shows.

-she almost starved to death as a child before her Pops found her. as a result, she is not a picky eater whatsoever, and will eat just about anything, no matter how gross it is. the only thing she dislikes even a little is anything well-done when it doesn’t have to be(ie well-done steaks, eggs with no runny yolk, etc), but she’ll still eat it. in fact. she has terrible eating habits. people are very confused how she stays so stick-thin when her primary diet is shitty gas station coffee and donuts, and she just shrugs and tells them she takes her gummy vitamins every day(she doesn’t.)

-occasionally she’ll just fuck off into the desert for a few days on a drug-fueled bender. if she had her way, she’d live out in a tent on her own in the middle of the Mojave.

[alovesongshewrote]

Jolene | Hisirdoux Casperan x Reader

Plot:  Douxie teaches you how to play the guitar after a nasty break-up.

Word Count: 1,794

Warnings:  Angst, descriptions of being in a toxic relationship, break-ups, crying, cheating, the gif has nothing to do with the plot i just like it

A/N:  So, while this is cute towards the end and everything, I just want to apologize for anything that might be triggering.  I got out of a very nasty relationship recently and I needed to vent.  Thank the gods for the wizard boy, amirite?  Anyway, thank you so much for reading, AATY will be updated soon, it’s just taking longer because I want to stay accurate to the actual episodes of wizards.  Love you guys, please enjoy <3

(Also, try reading this while listening to Jolene and tell me what you think, bc I never did that and I want to know)

Tag List: @furblrwurblr​

Looking back on it, you should have broken things off sooner.

Literally, every flag in that relationship had been red, but you ignored them all hoping that he’d get better.  That he’d start to listen to you without responding in a resentful way, that he’d stop trying to control you, that he’d learn to respect your boundaries without a fight.  It never happened.

You tried to bring up your grievances with him, but he always tried to turn it back on you, making it seem like your fault.  It didn’t work.  You were smart enough to recognize manipulation and gaslighting, but you weren’t smart enough to leave.

And then he cheated on you.  That was enough.

You ended things as respectfully as possible, even though he really didn’t deserve it.  You didn’t even mention his infidelity or the fact that he had never respected you.  All you did was tell him that it wasn’t a good time for a relationship.  He tried to make you feel guilty, but he never once asked you to stay or told you he loved you.  You did the right thing.  You knew that.

But you felt like crap after it was over.

All you did for the next two days was lounge around in your pyjamas and listen to ‘Jolene,’ by Dolly Parton over and over again.  It wasn’t productive, but it was what you needed.

It made your friends a little nervous though.  

Throughout your little break from society, you'd received a decent amount of texts from concerned friends who weren’t super sure what was going on but wanted to support you nonetheless.  

Douxie was the first person you’d told.

He was the friend you trusted the most.

Of course, he was concerned for you.  So concerned, in fact, that he straight-up ran to your apartment to spend time with you.  And you really appreciated that.

You’d let him into your small home, which was surprisingly clean for the spiral you’d been going down.  The only thing that a person could find odd was the music you were listening to.  It was just ‘Jolene’ by Dolly Parton, over and over again.

It wasn’t exactly his type of music, but he respected your coping mechanisms.  And he had to admit, the guitar was really nice.

“So, how’re you holding up,”

“I’m okay I guess.  Better than I thought I’d be.  It just kinda hurts, y’ know?”

“I know, darling, I know.  Here, sit down, I’m making you some tea,”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m going to,”

You smiled, watching him walk into your kitchen before you flopped down onto your couch.  The tea didn’t take long, and before you knew it, Douxie was on the couch next to you.

The warmth from the cup was nice, simulating human contact.  You missed human contact.  And now you had no one to give it to you.  Not like you did before, but still, the thought stung.

You didn’t realize there were tears in your eyes until Douxie’s hand was on your shoulder.  His hazel eyes peering into yours.  You hoped he didn’t see how hurt you really were.

He did.

“Oh, love, come ‘ere,”

More tears came to your eyes as Douxie came closer, wrapping you in the best hug you’d had in months.  He didn’t say anything, and neither did you.  He just held you close and let you cry into his shoulder for as long as you needed.  And this was what you needed.  

It took you about ten minutes to cry yourself out.  Douxie didn’t mind.  He was going to be there for you, no matter what, and if that meant his shirt got a little damp, he didn’t care.  You were more important.

“Thanks, Doux,”  you said, voice rough from crying, “Oh, god.  I’m sorry,”

“You don’t need to apologize.  You needed to vent your feelings, I’m just glad I could help,”

“Me too,” you pulled back, just enough to see his face, “I’m still going to apologize for getting your shirt wet though,”

Douxie laughed, “That’s fine, (Y/N), I care more about you than the shirt,”

You didn’t say anything.  If you did you’d cry again.

So, you just sat there, relaxing with your friend, drinking tea and listening to Jolene on repeat.  Your eyes were closed, your head on his shoulder, and his arm around you.  It was nice.  Really nice.  Better than anything in your actual relationship.

And then you had an idea.

“Hey, Douxie?  You do music, yeah?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Do you think you could teach me how to play this on the guitar?”

“If you want me to I can,”

“I think I’d like that.  I want to make something good out of this.  It can’t be all heartbreak,”

“You’re right, darling, it can’t.  We won’t let it,”

You smiled at him, making his whole being feel warm, “Thank you,”

“It’s my pleasure.  I can pick you up tomorrow if you’d like?”

“That sounds good,” you said, relaxing back into your place at his side.

The two of you stayed like that for another hour.  You could have stayed there forever, but you wanted Douxie to get home before it got too dark.  Weird things happened in Arcadia at night, and wizard or not, you’d prefer it if he stayed safe.  

You said goodbye in a moment of tension.  Not the same angry tension you’d known with your ex, but something new.  Something much softer.  You realized then that you wanted to kiss Douxie.  That kissing him wouldn’t be a chore, something you did to keep up appearances.  It wouldn’t be something that was done to you because someone else wanted it.  This would be something you did because you wanted to.  But you didn’t kiss him.  Not yet.

The next day, Douxie was at your door, ready to walk you from your apartment to his.  It wasn’t a long walk by any means, but it was enough to fit in some quirky banter.  It was more than enough for you to feel safe again.

“Do you think pigeons have feelings?” you asked as Douxie unlocked the door.

“Probably.  We could ask Archie, he might know?”

“That sounds like a plan,”

He let you into his home, which was just as you remembered it.  Comfortable, a bit scrappy, but in a way that made you feel comfortable.  Right now, Douxie’s apartment felt more like home than yours did.

“You get the guitar, I’ll make tea,”  you said, turning to face him.

“You don’t have to-”

“Ah, yes, but I’m going to,”

He smiled as you walked away.

One pot of tea later, a guitar was in your hands.  It was taking you a hot minute to get the chords right, but you were nothing if not determined.  Douxie was an amazing teacher.  He was patient, calm, and not at all condescending.  It was a nice change from what you were used to.

“Here, let me,” he said, moving his hands to rest over yours, positioning your hands properly, “Like this,”

“Thank you, Douxie,”

“It’s not a problem, love,”

“No, I mean, seriously.  You didn’t have to do this.  Thank you,”

He moved his eyes from your hands to your eyes, “(Y/N), of course I had to do this.  You deserve the world and better,”  he took a deep breath,  “Love, I’m so sorry that that bastard hurt you.  He did so many awful things to you, and you’re incredible for handling it the way that you did,”

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah?  You handled it like an adult.  I think I would have killed him,”

You laughed.  You wouldn’t mind it so much if Douxie fought your ex.  You didn’t want him dead, but if your wizard friend could kick his ass a little, that would be nice.  Of course, the first one who got a chance at knocking some sense into that slimy git would be you, but after that Douxie could have his turn.  The thought made you laugh harder.

It only took a minute for both you and Douxie to be on the floor, laughing.  It wasn’t even that funny, but crying from laughter felt a lot better than crying from heartbreak.  Eventually, you picked up the guitar again, but it took a while.  You couldn’t get enough of Douxie’s laugh, and he couldn’t get enough of yours.

Before he walked you home, Douxie grabbed your shoulders, “You know you deserve better than him, right?”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist, “I know.  But it’s nice to hear someone else say it,”

“I’m glad I could be of service,”

You giggled again, still wanting to kiss him.  But you didn’t.  Not yet.

It took you a little while to learn all of Jolene.  Some parts were harder than others, but eventually, you got it.  Douxie had never been prouder.  

After that, you were addicted.  You got Douxie to teach you other songs.  It didn’t take much convincing.  He loved listening to you play.  He loved a lot more than that, and you loved a lot more than the guitar.

It had been a few months since the break-up.  

You were in Douxie’s apartment, Archie curled up by the window, the wizard himself in the kitchen, and you on the couch, trying to get a chord right.  It wasn’t going well.  You groaned loudly, waking Archie.

“You don’t have more questions about pigeons, do you?  Because I told you, I will not be speaking with them again-”

“No, Arch, it’s not that.  It’s just this freaking chord is driving me insane,”

“Ah,” the familiar said, looking between you and the guitar, “I’d help if I had hands.  Good luck, though,”

“Thanks, Arch,”  you returned your focus to the chord, still frustrated.  Then Douxie’s hands were on yours.

“You’ve almost got it, it’s just-”  he adjusted your hands.  As he did, you noticed how close he was, seated behind you on the couch.

“Thank you, Doux.  Not just for this, I mean for everything, you’ve been amazing the past few months, and I-”

“(Y/N), I would do anything for you,”

You turned as much as you could, facing him, “Really?”  you asked, hearing your own smirk in your voice.

Douxie laughed slightly, “Really.  I-”  he bit his lip, driving you more insane than any guitar chord ever could, “I think I love you, (Y/N),”

This was it.

You (finally) kissed him.

And it wasn’t a chore or something that was done to you, it was something you did that you both wanted to do.  It was soft and safe, and it felt good.  It felt like you were loved the way you deserved to be loved.  This was the world and better.

“I love you too, Douxie,”

[dcbbw]

Drake. Singing "Jolene" in the shower. Please please pretty please. xoxoxo

Hahahahahahahahahaahahaha, BURNS!!!! Hopefully I delivered what you were looking for.

To provide context/background to whomever reads this, @burnsoslow and I have random late-night convos that cover a whole range of topics. The other night, we were discussing Drake Walker’s taste in music. I see him liking old-school country and 70s rock (think The Eagles and Fleetwood Mac). Then I got this image of Drake in the shower singing Dolly Parton’s Jolene, a song about a woman pleading with a temptress not to take her man.

Well, then the question became which Drake? The answer is below the cut.

Song lyrics are from Jolene and are the property of their respective owner(s). Forgive me, Dolly for taking liberties with some of your words, but Burnsy came up with the BEST name!

Thanks to my bears for pre-reading!

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Answer has hints of lemon. 

Driam

Drake Walker was in the shower, his fingers working shampoo into his thick, brown hair. As suds bubbled over his scalp and transformed his mane into a white, soapy cap he sang.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene I'm begging of you please don't take my man Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene Please don't take him just because you can

Your beauty is beyond compare With flaming locks of auburn hair With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green Your smile is like a breath of spring Your voice is soft like summer rain And I cannot compete with you Jolene

Liam joined him, the hot water pelting his body as Drake began the second verse. Liam’s heart twisted at Drake’s song choice. Coronation was mere hours away; Liam would be fully duty bound to Cordonia and her soon-to-be Queen before the night was over.

“You have no competition, love,” Liam murmured against Drake’s wet skin as he stepped behind his lover, his arms encircling his waist, hands splayed across Drake’s hips.

Drake stopped singing. “Hey, Li,” he said softly.

“This Jolene is not an apt description of Lady Riley. She sounds more like Duchess Olivia,” Liam frowned as his hand began stroking Drake’s length.

“Ha! Never made the connection, but I suppose you’re right.” Drake’s eyes closed in both bliss and hurt at his King’s touch.

“I swear on everything Drake, Lady Riley won’t come between us and what we have. It’s just a temporary situation.”

Drake stepped closer under the shower head, letting the water rinse the shampoo; rivulets of soapy water rand down his back, causing Liam to release his hold from Drake.

“Did you hear me, love?”

Drake nodded, not trusting himself to speak. If his lips parted now, he would tell Liam the truth and he had promised Riley she could be the one to tell Liam.

Liam’s choice would refuse his proposal. Because she had chosen Drake. And they were leaving for America in a week.

It broke Drake’s heart, but he and Liam would never be together they way they both wanted and deserved. Everyone was free to love the way they wanted to except the King. And Liam would never, could never give his country the attention it needed if Drake were in the picture.

Already, he was planning to divorce a Queen he hadn’t even married.

Drake would say his goodbyes to Liam after Riley broke the news. He wondered if he could ever say goodbye to Liam. The man was ingrained in his mind, his skin, his very soul.

He had to. It was for the best. It was for Cordonia.

Commoner’s Wife AU Drake

The Duchess of Valtoria blearily opened one eye, letting out a loud groan at the time. 9 am. Her head hurt and her mouth was dry from consuming too much alcohol and not enough food at the charity gala her Great House had hosted the night before. She had been too busy being the dutiful wife and gracious hostess.

She sipped whiskey with her husband, Drake, as they made their rounds; their smiles were wide, and their questions sincere as they networked with their fellow nobles. She drank wine with the ladies of court while the men smoked cigars. She had flitted from table to table during dinner, making sure everyone was full and happy, with a martini in her hand.

When she finally sat down to eat with her husband, the orchestra had begun to play, and the Duke and Duchess led everyone in the first dance.

The entire evening, her eyes constantly strayed to the King, who had escorted Duchess Olivia to the soiree. Riley’s eyes narrowed whenever Liam’s fingers touched Olivia’s. Her jaw clenched when she saw the King and Duchess dancing, his hands placed just above her buttocks and her slender, pale arms snaked around his neck.

Her husband saw it all.

Riley rolled onto her back, her head sinking into her pillow. She had already decided she wasn’t going to do anything other than hydrate and pop ibuprofen. Her phone buzzed; her hand reached out to grab it.

Liam:  Last night’s gala was magnificent, yet pales compared to the shining jewel that is you. The Crown’s contribution is forthcoming. I miss you.

Riley deleted the message and tossed her phone back onto the bedside table. Fuck you and Olivia.

She had just risen from the bed to use the bathroom when she heard the shower turn on. Drake. She decided she would kiss her husband good morning and plead hangover to get out of any plans he may have made for them for the day. What good was being a Duchess if one couldn’t take a day to rest and relax?

And sulk over one’s lover being lovey-dovey with someone else.

Riley entered the bathroom, hearing Drake singing. She raised an eyebrow. Two things Drake didn’t do: sing and dance. She listened to his voice, a deep bass, singing an old Dolly Parton tune. But the words were wrong.

She talks about you in her sleep And there's nothing I can do to keep From crying when she calls your name JoLiam

And I can easily understand How you could easily take my girl But you don't know what she means to me JoLiam

Riley’s hand covered her O-shaped mouth. Did Drake know?  The twisting in her stomach was not so much about being caught; she did have enough love for Drake to not want him to be hurt. It just wasn’t strong enough to overcome her need for Liam.

She hastily coughed to announce her presence; the singing stopped.

“Brooks?” Drake called out.

Riley stuck her head in the shower; the spray lightly peppered her skin. “Good morning,” she said softly.

Drake grinned. “Good morning.”

“Hey, how about waffles for breakfast? And that thick cut bacon you like?”

Drake looked at her in confused surprise. “Are you up for it? You had more than your share of liquor last night.”

Riley kissed Drake’s wet lips, slipping in a little bit of tongue. “You’re my husband! Of course I’m up for it. And anything else you may want to do today.”

Drake looked searchingly over his wife’s expression. “Are you sure?”

Riley nodded, a bright smile on her face. “Positive!”

Drake soaped his washcloth. “Brooks, are you happy? With me?”

Riley swallowed over the lump in her throat. “There’s no one I’d rather be with,” she lied.

She left the bathroom to cook breakfast before her husband saw the truth in her eyes.

Upstate AU Dramien

Heavy rain poured outside while Drake Walker and Damien Nazario lay in bed watching the Saved by the Bell reboot on one of their many streaming services. It was 10 am, but with no lights on their bedroom, the room was as dark as if it were still 6 am.

“Thank GOD we cleaned out the gutters last weekend,” Drake commented.

“Hmmmm”, Damien responded absently.

He wasn’t the house person. He liked the idea of home ownership: It represented adulthood and was a great investment, but the work it took to keep up the house and protect it from unnecessary problems? The tree pruning, gutter cleaning, keeping sewage lines clear? Drake took care of that or found folks who would.

“You know, it doesn’t get dark like this in the city when it rains,” Drake observed as they watched Lexi shy away from kissing Jaime because he really liked Aisha.

“The lights from all the stores and office buildings penetrate the cloud cover.” Damien shifted in the bed to pull more sheets over his body. His eyes were glued to the screen. “Why does it not surprise me that Zack Morris is an absentee father?”

“I wonder why Jessie is still hanging in there with her loser husband. He’s having an emotional affair with a character from his book!”

“And now said character is pregnant.”

Drake shook his head as he grabbed the remote to turn the television off. He glanced over at Damien. “Breakfast?”

Damien nodded. “I’ll cook if you wash the dishes.”

“I cleaned the gutters so we don’t have to worry about it raining on our heads. You cook and do dishes, and I’ll take care of dinner.”

“Deal”

Drake climbed out of bed. “I’m gonna grab a shower.”

“In our new manly bathroom?” Damien teased.

“It was PINK! ALL OVER! Like a teenage girl puked up everything Pinterest in there! Even the toilet was pink.”

“I like pink!” Damien argued.

“You like everything I don’t.” Drake gave Damien a quick kiss on his lips and padded into their master bath.

Alone in the bed, Damien stretched before getting up and making the bed. He then went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The sounds of the shower and Drake’s singing greeted him.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene I'm begging of you please don't take my man Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene Please don't take him just because you can

You could have your choice of men But I could never love again He's the only one for me Jolene

“Why are you begging Jolene to leave me alone?” Damien teased as he stepped into the shower with his lover.

“Why aren’t you cooking breakfast? Drake countered.

“I missed you,” Damien replied as he grabbed his washcloth.

Drake looked at him knowingly. “You think I’m going to do the cooking as well as the home improvements.” He shook his head. “Not happening.”

“Jolene would happily do it.”

“I’m not Jolene. And she needs to stay 50 feet away from your ass.”

“I love it when you’re jealous.”

Drake grabbed Damien around his waist and pushed his back against wet tile. “How about some … dessert before breakfast?”

Damien kissed Drake deeply. “Always down for dessert.”

“But only if you’re making it with me,” Drake clarified.

“Jolene only cooks breakfast.”

DC AU Drake (Issa throwback)

It was the morning after Drake Walker had broken up with Riley Brooks inside of the Columbia Heights Target. He hadn’t slept a wink and was hoping a hot shower would soothe his red, burning eyes and relax him enough to get some type of rest.

Or wash away his guilt.

He stepped beneath the water, wishing there was someone he could talk to, but he didn’t even have an explanation for what had happened. He wanted to call Brooks and see how she was holding up; they had been friends too long for it to just end that way. But Drake had no idea what to say to make it better, and she was hurting enough.

As he shampooed his hair, a memory came to him.

Drake was in the shower, his hair filled with suds and his conditioner bottle in his hand, his mouth to it as if it were a microphone. He was belting out Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5, and so caught up in the song he didn’t notice that Riley had slipped into the shower behind him.

She stood, her hands crossed over her chest as she giggled. Drake turned quickly, dropping the bottle; he grinned at her sheepishly. “You heard that, huh?”

“You’re missing the boobs and hair, but you kinda nailed it.”

“Ya think?” Drake picked up the conditioner.

“I didn’t peg you as a Dolly Parton fan.” Riley stepped in front of him to let the water wet her body.

“She is ICONIC, and we do not deserve her!” Drake began to shampoo his girlfriend’s hair. “Did you know rumor has it she wrote Jolene and I Will Always Love You on the same day?”

Riley squirted her rose and peony scented bodywash onto her washcloth. “Really? Homegirl was going through that day.”

“But she’s been married to her husband for over 50 years,” Drake pointed out.

Riley turned to face him. Her hands pressed against his shoulders. “Doesn’t mean they didn’t have problems.” Her eyes looked into Drake’s, the slightest hint of uncertainty in them. “We’re good, right?”

Drake looked at her, puzzled. “Why do you ask that?”

“I just don’t want to be hurt. Or killed.”

Drake pulled Riley closer. “You’ve been watching too many Lifetime movies.”

“Maybe.” Riley laid her head on his shoulder. “I just … “

“Shhhhhh,” Drake interrupted her. “You’re it, Brooks. We’re good. We’ll always be good.”

Drake wiped a soapy cloth over his torso. He shook his head, wondering what the hell he was going to do. Brooks deserved an apology, an explanation. But he had to find the words, because right now it was looking like he was thinking with his dick.

And Alyssa Devereaux was so much more.

Devereaux. She deserved the truth.

Drake had to find a lotta words.

Fuck!

Another Dolly Parton song popped into his head and in a cracked voice, he began to sing.

I had to have this talk with you My happiness depends on you And whatever you decide to do Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene I'm begging of you please don't take my man Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene Please don't take him even though you can Jolene, Jolene

Tagging:  @sirbeepsalot @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @hopefulmoonobject @amomentofsinclairity @ao719 @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @janezillow @marietrinmimi @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @indiacater @forthebrokenheartedthings @kingliam2019 @bebepac @zaffrenotes @liyanin @liamxs-world @choiceslife @ac27dj @the-soot-sprite @gnatbrain @sanchita012 @anotherbeingsworld @atha68 @hopelessromanticmonie @amandablink @cmestrella @iaminlovewithtrr @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @starrystarrytrouble @liamandneca @liamrhysstalker2020 @alyssalauren @ladyangel70 @yourmajesty09 @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71

 #long post #dcbbw answers #Jolene ask #very slightly, lightly ns*w #drake walker

[clonerightsenthusiast]

low note

[Blaseball, Jolene Willowtree/Zoey Kirchner, Bottles Suljak/Lady Mastuyama, G, 1.6k words]

Jolene ran pitching practice.

That was a thing she did now, apparently.

It used to be Zoey's thing. Before it was a team thing, it was a Zoey thing; Jolene would come out here sometimes, early, to watch the sun rise over the Pillars, and would find Zoey diligently plugging away. It became a habit for the two of them, and then eventually the whole rotation. Mindy would bring breakfast. It was nice.

That season was so stressful - they all felt the pressure. The fans' hopes and expectations - not to mention the team's - laid squarely on their shoulders. They leaned on each other. They became a unit, the four of them, inseparable.

Well. Apparently not so inseparable.

Jolene ran pitching practice. With Zoey gone, somebody had to.

--

[read on ao3]

"That's not funny, Kirchner."

Jolene continued putting her practice gear away, keeping her eyes resolutely on the back of her locker.

"That's because it's not a joke, Willowtree."

There was a light mocking tone to Zoey's voice, like when she was playing up her rivalry with Lady. Normally, Jolene found the heel act endearing. But this wasn't funny. And there was something else, under the edge, that had Jolene twisting her glove in her hand.

She tossed the glove into her locker and slammed it shut. "You're not leaving," she said decisively.

"Oh, well if it's that easy." Jolene could hear her rolling her eyes.

She refused to look at her. If she looked at her, she would have to acknowledge what she was saying. Instead, her hand closed hard on the handle of her locker and squeezed until it shook.

Behind her, Zoey sighed. There was a rustling sound, and then soft footsteps, and Jolene squeezed her eyes shut against the temptation to turn around and face her. Don't look. As long as she doesn't look, it isn't real. Zoey will stay right there, close enough to feel.

"Jolene…" Zoey was close enough that her exhale brushed against the back of Jolene's neck. All the sharpness was gone from her voice. She sounded as hollow as Jolene felt.

"You can't leave," Jolene ground out.

Zoey's hand landed lightly on her shoulder, and trailed down her tense, trembling arm to her hand clenched on the locker. Slowly, in increments, Jolene allowed her grip to relax. Zoey slid her hand in its place and gently, inexorable, pulled Jolene around to face her.

Zoey's face banished any remaining shreds of doubt that this was really happening. She was smiling at Jolene with open heartbreak in her eyes.

"What are we gonna do without you?" Jolene asked, clutching Zoey's hand like she could keep her in the Core with the force of her grip alone.

"You'll be fine," Zoey said, with forced lightness. "You don't need me."

Categorically untrue, and they all knew it. And also, for Jolene, for this moment, entirely besides the point.

"What am I gonna do?"

"Jo…" Zoey lifted her free hand and laid it along the rough bark of Jolene's cheek. Zoey smiled and cocked her head in an obvious attempt at levity. "I'm going to Dallas, not Mars. We'll still see each other. I'll even play at the Pillars." The corner of her lips quirked upwards. "You'll finally get the chance to show me up, Willowtree. You're the new star pitcher of the Core Mechanics. You'll have to bring your A-game to beat the Steaks. I hear they have a great new pitcher coming in."

"I hate you," Jolene said with feeling, and threw her arms around Zoey to hold her close.

Zoey abandoned all pretense and clutched her back just as tightly.

"Yeah," she mumbled into Jolene's hair. "I'm gonna miss you, too."

--

The Mechanics were in shambles.

Losing Zoey they might have survived. Maybe. Mindy, Shirai, and Jolene were all great pitchers in their own right. And if PolkaDot Patterson had shown up at the Core like they'd expected, they might have been okay.

Instead, they had Alto, who just seemed lost more than anything, and uncomfortable at best with a glove on her hand.

And then a Reverb wave swept Mindy out to the lineup and left poor Bottles stranded with a ball in hand and absolutely no idea what to do with it. (And left Jolene holding on to Shirai's wrist in the dugout like she actually had the power to keep her there.)

And then. The Feedback.

Losing Zoey was a huge blow to the team. Losing Lady, in the same season, while the wound was still raw, felt like something they'd never recover from.

Not that they had a choice. Blaseball didn't stop no matter how desperately they might want a second just to breathe and take stock.

Besides, they were the Core Mechanics. They would fix this.

This, it turns out, was much more manageable the narrower you kept your focus. So Jolene left Adelaide to pick up the pieces of the lineup, and started running pitching practice.

--

Jolene didn't mean to watch them. It was clearly a private moment she'd stumbled in on, but the locker room had emptied out except for Lady and Bottles while she was in the supply closet, and now the only way to leave was to interrupt them and somehow that seemed worse. So instead she stood in silence by the cracked door and tried not to listen in.

"Anything could happen, Lady," came Bottles's low, clear tone anyways.

"Anything could always happen, darling," Lady replied lightly. "What's the point in worrying?"

"It's not about worrying," said Bottles, slow and methodical. "It's about promising."

There was a long quiet moment, and despite herself Jolene peeked. Seeing Bottles slowly sinking to one knee beside Lady's chair, she quickly pulled away and pressed herself against the wall.

"Whatever happens to us," Bottles continued. "Wherever this life takes us. I want you to have this. Wear it, and carry my heart with you."

"Nobody would ever guess you were such a bleeding heart, my love," Lady said, her voice overflowing with affection.

"Lady."

"I'll wear it always, darling. Naturally."

Jolene pressed her hands to her ears and drowned out the rest of the conversation with wishing that she'd thought to do the same.

--

"Yes, that's good," Jolene said, blatantly lying.

Alto was not good. But she was also clearly frustrated with her own inabilities, and equally clearly not improving.

"It's not," she snapped, balling her hands into fists. After a second, her shoulders slumped. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's fine," Jolene said automatically. She held in a sigh and laid a hand on Alto's shoulder in an awkward attempt to be supportive. "Why don't we take a break?"

"... Yeah, okay." Alto dropped her glove and trudged over to the lunch table.

Mindy had come by on her way to her own practice with huge trays of pasta. Jolene was not one for outward displays of emotion; she was much more likely to shut down under stress. But she'd been this close to crying at the sight of her.

Maybe Mindy would know how to… nurture Alto. But she had her hands full just adjusting to being a batter. It was more than enough that she was still coming by to feed them.

At least this part was something Jolene was confident Zoey would be just as lost on as she was.

Jolene left Alto to serve herself some pasta and try to unwind by herself, and went over to stand by Bottles, who was methodically twisting Mindy's latest escher-like pasta creation into new and exciting shapes, heedless of the sauce getting all over his fingers. Jolene posted up silently beside him, piling her plate with garlic-2 bread. It was her favorite, and Mindy knew it. Jolene pushed down the urge to cry again.

As much as Bottles being swept onto the pitchers' mound was a disaster for the team's performance, Jolene was enjoying spending more time with him. Bottles was easy company; he didn't expect her to say anything, or try to probe how she was feeling about… everything. He was just… quiet. Solid. Exactly what she needed these days.

She offered him a piece of garlic-2 bread. Bottles glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes and took it, setting it down beside his pasta statue. Sitting on his plate, in a puddle of neon yellow pasta sauce, was the shape of an incredibly familiar scorpion tail.

Jolene looked up and saw Bottles watching her. He didn't move, or otherwise react, just held his plate and looked at her, like he was waiting for something. Jolene wondered how often he'd had this conversation with other teammates. She was willing to bet he hated it as much as she did.

"This sucks," she said plainly, and left it at that.

She must have gotten it right, because Bottles cracked a smile. He nodded and bumped his shoulder against Jolene's.

"Yeah. But we're the Core Mechanics," he said, with just enough irony to make it bearable. "We can fix this."

For the first time in weeks, Jolene laughed. "We can start with your pitching," she said.

"Oh, god. I take it back," Bottles said, deadpan. "We're doomed."

Jolene took a bite of her bread and let the familiar taste of garlic-2 warm her. There were a lot of things she could say to Bottles, now that the topic had been broached; We'll get them back, or the perhaps more realistic We'll see them again, but she didn't want to, and frankly she didn't think Bottles wanted to hear it, anyways.

So instead she put her plate down and said, "C'mon, Suljak. Grab your glove. Let's get fixing."

[blazinbeautywrites]

Band Wars: Rise of the Phoenix

Note: Due to the rampant uprising of plagiarism on this site and others I am stating once and once only that this is my ORIGINAL work. If I find out that you have stolen/taken any part of my work I will handle you and the situation the way I see fit.

None of the pics or gifs I use belong to me so full credit goes to the originators of said gifs and pics.

Length: 2,356 words

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this out guys. I was not happy with the final results and when I was I still was unsure so I rewrote it again and decided to just post it. I’ll let yall be the judge lol.

Genre: Honestly idk lmao

Chapter 1

 Universal Music Group (UMG) decides to debut a new girl group, PHOENIX on their first ever reality show “Next Big Thing.” The winners of the show get a 5 year, 5 album recording contract and will tour with CNCO 1 year after they debut. The winner of the show was Zania Reye Bloom, followed by London Monroe Jones, Jolene Maria Sanchez, Siane Rei Choi, and Avery Lynn O'Reilly. The band is composed of 5 talented women with different ethnic backgrounds, ages 24-25. 

Since the show served as the girl’s training they were immediately thrusted into the spotlight after the show ended. They went to work on their debut album and as the release date approached the girls were getting antsy. Now only were they about to release their baby onto the world, but they were finally meeting CNCO today and discussing ideas for their tour.

*UMG headquarters in LA*

“Yoooo I’m fucking excited! Can yall believe our debut album is coming out in a couple days?” London said as she led a couple of her members to the elevators.

“Girl this tour bout to be lit as fuck. Bruuuh we’re going to fucking Sweden. I didn’t even think we had fans out there.” Zania said.

“Yeah you can thank that girl Astrid who made the finals. She was Swedish.” Avery said.

The girls finally heard the elevator ding at their floor and immediately got out. The girls walked into a meeting room where they saw their other 2 members Jolene and Siane bonding with the boys of CNCO.

“Finally you bitches show up. What took yall so long?” Siane asked.

“Avery thinks she’s still in Ireland and almost drove us into a damn ditch.” Zania said.

“You’re alive aren’t you? So quit complaining.” Avery said as she took a seat opposite Erick.

“Anyways if yall are done….THIS is CNCO ladies. This is Zabdiel, Christopher, Erick, Joel, and this is Richard.” Siane said as she pointed to each boy as she introduced them. Richard definitely caught Zania’s eye and she quickly averted her eyes so he wouldn’t catch her ogling him. Little did she know, he was checking her out too.

“And I’m Zania, and of course yall met Jolene and Siane. This is London and Avery.” She said as she gestured to her other bandmates. She was about to say something else when a tall, slender woman walked into the room followed by a man wearing the loudest shade of yellow and another woman dressed in all black.

“Okay let’s make this short and sweet. I’m Veronica Pierce, you can call me Vee or Ms. Pierce, never Veronica. Get it? Got it? Good. I am your tour  creative director. I’ll be working closely with you all to design your tour. And please, let’s all collectively agree on a specific concept. I will not have my people designing 2 separate stages. To my left is Chez Moa, your set designer. And to my right is Mel Carter she and her team will be styling you all so meet with her some time this week so she can get an idea of what you guys want and need. And ladies you have a busy weekend ahead. Friday you have your album release, press runs, then your album release party later that night. Saturday you’ll be on Good Day LA where you’ll be interviewed and then perform your lead single. Sunday you have a mini showcase where yall will perform some fan fave covers from the show and a few songs from the album, including your single with CNCO. You’ll have tomorrow, Wednesday, and Thursday to learn choreo for both performances. You’ll meet your choreographer tomorrow. Any questions?” 

The whole room was silent as both groups stared at Veronica and her associates. Zania raised her hand and the other members of Phoenix sighed. They knew how this shit was about to play out.

“So do we get to breathe? Or do we have to pencil that in too?” Zania asked. She knew she was being an asshole but this shit was ridiculous.

“Hmmmm you must be Zania Bloom. They told me you had a mouth on you. Listen up sweetie this my show. I call the shots and if they bother you, you can leave.” Veronica said. Zania smirked at her and leaned back in her chair.

“Nah I’m good. You may continue, Ms. Pierce.” Zana said. Sarcasm dripping from her words.

“Anyways that’s all for now. And remember this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. It can be taken away in the blink of an eye so watch yourselves.” Veronica spoke. She eyed the room but everyone knew exactly who that was meant for. She, Mel, and Chez exited the room in silence. Once they left, Siane burst out laughing.

“Yo I was clenching my fucking ass cheeks. She’s soo fucking hot.” Siane said.

“Keep it in your pants Siane. And Zania, girl why did you do that? You made that shit more intense than it needed to be.” London asked.

“You know me, I just had to say something. She was a bitch to us when we did the show, now they’re making her the tour director, wtf?” Zania said.

“Am I the only one who noticed that guy had on too much yellow?” Chris said. Everyone turned to him and started laughing.

“Look, I ain’t wanna say anything but he was so wrong for that. And it was a complete contrast to Mel who had on all black.” Jolene said.

“But real shit Vee ain’t no joke, she can make or break you. So just be careful.” Richard said. He made eye contact with Zania and she smiled at him.

“Oh I’m not afraid of her. She’s on a power trip so I’ll entertain her mess for the sake of this tour. You don’t have to worry bout me baby boy.” Zania said. Everyone got up to leave but on her way to the door she was stopped by Richard.

“I don’t know if you realized but I’m a grown ass man so that baby boy shit not gon fly with me.” Richard said. Zania was amused.

“Oh did I bruise your whittle ego babe? Look it’s not that serious-”

“But it is that serious so treat me with respect or keep it moving baby girl.” Richard said as he cut her off. He walked away leaving Zania stunned in silence. She walked back to her group and chuckled.

“Yall…...that guy Richard just lowkey put me in my fucking place. Oh this tour is gonna be so damn fun.” Zania said. She and her bandmates went to find their stylists to get started on designing their perfect tour outfits.

                                             ______________

It had been a full 5 hours and the girls were hard at work on their choreo. They were thankful that most of the songs they performed were their covers from their reality show so the moves were ingrained in their heads. They breezed through their choreo for their own singles and just finished running through them a final time before Laurieann Gibson called for lunch. The girls were beyond starved and as they walked to the cafe area of the upscale dance studio they saw CNCO walk through the door.

“Oop the boys are here.” Jolene said as she fixed her slightly messy hair. She made eye contact with Zabdiel as he and the other boys walked into the dance studio they’s just left.

“Ooooohhh do I sense a little crush? London teased.

“See that tall one, Zabdiel? I promise you, I will climb him like a fucking tree.” Jolene said, much to the amusement of her group. 

“Woah. Down girl, we have a whole ass tour to get through.” Avery said.

“Look if I can’t fuck Vee, you can’t fuck Zabdiel.” Siane argued.

“Girl. Zabdiel is fair game, Vee is our fucking boss. There’s a difference.” Zania said as the girls found a table near the back of the cafe. Avery went to order them some food and soon a waiter came back with a tray of fruit, some finger sandwiches, and a basket of the cafe’s homemade potato chips.

“This looks so good and I’m starving.” London said. As the girls ate they discussed the difficult choreo.

“I really thought Laureiann was gonna throw her shoe or some shit at you cuz you couldn’t get that one move down.” Siane said.

“I wish she would throw some shit at me.” Jolene said while the others laughed at her.

“What kind of shit yall think they’ll have us do with the boys?” London asked.

“Probably something sexy, ya kno to pander to the fans.” Avery answered.

“I heard that they’re partnering us up with them for the collab so whomever we pick is our dance partner for the song.” Siane added.

“Well. this should be fun.” Zania said. The girls chat a little bit longer before cleaning up and heading back into the dance studio. When they arrived they heard their song with CNCO playing. Laurieann was teaching them their choreo and once saw the girls she turned the music off and immediately began assigning pairs.

“Okay London you’re with Joel, Jolene with Eric, Zabdiel and Siane, Avery and Chris are partners and lastly, Zania, you’re with Richard. Everyone please stand with your partner. I’m only gonna do the dance two times and then you’re gonna do it and we’ll fine tune everything afterwards” Lauriann said as she read off her list. Before the girls could even process anything they quickly got into formation to do the choreo.

                                            ______________

A few hours later, both Phoenix and CNCO were spread out on the floor, exasperated. Lauriann told them to rest up and that she’d see them in the morning before she left them all a sweaty mess in the studio.

“I swear there are parts of me that are sweating I ain’t know could sweat.” Siane said as she attempted to lift her head to no avail.

“Girl I feel like my fucking feet are gonna fall off.” Zania said.

“I can’t feel my left asss cheek.” Jolene mumbled.

“Bruh at least yall voices aren’t hoarse as fuck.” Richard said.

“We should probably start heading out because I need an ice bath or some shit.” Avery said as she willed her body to move. Everyone followed suit and struggled getting to their feet. When the girls began packing up to leave, Zabdiel strolled on over to pull Jolene to the side. Zania looked on and smirked to herself. All she hoped was that whatever they had going on didn’t get in the way of her group’s path to success. She snapped out of her little daze just as Jolene made it back.

“Well, what was that about?” Zania asked.

“Girl he asked for my number. I was like no and he said can you really say no to this face. I almost fucking melted so I gave him my number. He’s so fucking cocky. I love it.” Jolene beamed. Zania could tell her friend was happy so she chose to keep her mouth shut. The girls finally made it to the elevator when Zania realized she’d left her phone in the dance studio.

“Shut yall I left my phone. Yall go on I’ll text yall once I get home.” Zania said.

“Girl we’ll wait, just hurry up.” London said. Zania jogged back to the building and ran up the stairs to be quicker. Once she got to the door of the studio she heard the boys talking.

“I really like that girl London. She’s classy, yet has a sexy side. I like that.” Joel said.

“Now see Jolene….them lips. I bet her head game on point.” Zabdiel said.

“Ew bro what the hell!” Eric exclaimed.

“I know you of all people are not talking.” Richard said.

“Even though I think she’s kind of a bitch, Zania fine as fuck too.” Christopher said.

“Yeah she is fine. Yall seen that ass? I’d love to get behind that.” Richard said. Zania had heard enough and walked into the room.

“Yall should really make sure that the door is completely closed before you talk about us. Anyways I left my phone and just came back to get it. Oh and Richard, Zabdiel? I understand that Jolene and I are attractive but please don’t talk about us like we’re pieces of meat mkay?” With that she grabbed her phone and walked out, leaving the boys a little dumbfounded. Once she got back outside she filled her girls on what she heard.

“You know. We should teach them a lesson.” Jolene said.

“Oop I sense an infamous Jolene Sanchez prank.” Siane said.

“Yep. Okay so here’s the plan.” Jolene explains the little prank they’ll play on the boys at the showcase. They’d messed with the wrong girls.

                                            _____________

The rest of the week went by in a blur and before they knew it, their album release day was finally here. It’d only been a few hours and their album was already number 1 on a few of the urban and pop album charts. Siane screenshot the Billboard charts where their album was number 1 and sent it to their group chat. She then called them all on a video chat.

“WAKE UP BITCHES! WE NUMBER 1 BABYYYYYY!!!!1!” She yelled into the phone. The others, as groggy as they were, laughed at how hyped their member was.

“Girl you are so lucky I was up getting ready or I’d curse you the fuck out.” Zania said. 

“Bitch whatever. Anyways I love yall so much! We’ve officially ARRIVED! Like we in the fucking building forreal now. WHEW! Let me start getting my shit together. See yall soon. Love ya! Siane said as she hung up the video call. The girls were buzzing and couldn’t be any happier that after almost 6 months, their hard work has finally paid off and that their fans love their album as much as they do. They couldn’t wait to see what lie ahead for them. They knew whatever it was, it was gonna be big.

[allyvampirelass29]

Beautiful Wickedness

A NOS4A2 Fanfiction By: Allyssa J. Watkins

Ally lay next to Charles, as the silver morning crept into the overhead canopy, setting the room alight with a soft glow. There was so much they weren't saying, as they laid there, close enough to touch, and a part of her wanted to forget it all........ her team-up with Victoria, her ghastly meeting with the vampire children, their deathly duel on the St. Nick Parkway, and just hold her husband, cling to his beautiful body, until it all melted away like snow........

Charles frowned as that mischievous hand touched his face, trying not to admire how comely her black lace nightdress stood out stark against her white skin. Skin that was right now beckoning to him....... He looked at her stubbornly, fighting his attraction, wary as to just what new hellish plot her sweet touch might conjure for him. You're a scheming minx, Wife, and yet I do so long, even still, to be seduced by you.

"Good Morning, Mrs. Manx," He whispered softly, allowing her to stroke his cheek, drunk with the ache in her touch, wondering if the same hunger lingered on her soft lips. "Are you going to kill me today, Wife? Or shall we linger abed for a bit longer?"

"Charles......." Ally whispered back, anguished, perishing in the thought, and he grabbed her tightly, as she hugged his body to hers, hiding her face in his bared chest.

"If I may be granted the privilege in choosing the weapon of my demise........ This sweet suffocation is a rather fine way to go......." He snickered, feeling her arms wrap tighter around him, her cheek pressed flush to his muscular chest, the slight quiver in her lips, making him wish they were overtaking his right now. So much fuss and fret, so many furious words hurled, this damnable business with Vic, poisoning their happy honeymoon days. But laying here, grasping her, feeling her, both of them desperate to be closer to each other. This was what he'd craved....... What he was so afraid to lose.

"Or perhaps I would prefer to die by a kiss," He simpered, his breath hot, his voice almost a growl and he wrenched her up his body, drowning her in an angry and tender kiss, tasting that ache, that pain of love, those gentle tears.........

"Ally........"

Ally burst into tears as she kissed him back passionately, letting her body say the words she could not, and Charles seized her thigh, punishing her with his affection, feeling her let go.......

"Charles- I could never- I won't let her k-kill-" Ally sobbed harder as she spoke between kisses, her voice broken and desolate, and Manx pulled at her curls to get more control over her lips, and to shield his heart from the pangs of those hopeless sobs.

"Nobody cries in Christmasland, Ally Manx," He breathed, his lips still brushing against hers, and he rested his fingernails on her wet cheek, watching the tears stream steady from those summertime eyes. "You're breaking the rules, My Sweet, and my poor heart. Unhappiness is against the law, or did you forget? Kill me with your kiss, Allyssa, yes, but do be so kind as to make it quick."

"I'll kiss you, Loveliest Husband, but I won't kill you........ Ally's eyes welled with raw emotion, piercing agony, profound joy, her lip still quivering. "I love you more than-"

"Don't-" Charles reprimanded sharply, pressing a trembling razor sharp nail against her wet lips, to silence her, his black eyes welling with anguish. "Don't you dare say it, Allyssa, if you don't mean it, don't induct that slow acting poison we call hope, through my veins. If you hate me, SCREAM IT, strike me, cut me with your precious pen, but don't you tell me you love me, if it's no longer true!!!!"

"Charles!!!!" Ally cried out in another desolate sob, and Charlie hastily lowered his hand to let her speak, still clutching hold of her like she was a fast fading dream. "I LOVE YOU!!!! Of course, I love you, and I know it would be easier for us both, if I didn't, but I don't care!!!! I will LOVE you, even if it kills me........"

Charles felt his chest shudder, the infernal tears stinging his eyes, pouring out of him, laced with the pain, and the poisonous hope, and he cursed them, feeling like he was dying, because he knew it was true. Through the many horrors and heartache, forcing her to hurt whomever he chose, authoring mayhem with her hand, in the midst of a still raging war for the Found Children of Christmasland, somehow the devil and a lost angel, the pure and the soulless had fallen in love.

His vulnerability turned brittle and cold, like ice that could shatter against her warmth.

"I told you....... to fear the far more tender hands. You didn't listen."

Charlie's glistening claws snapped around her curly head, closing tight, yanking her upright, and he waited for the struggle that never came, she didn't even cry out, as he delicately drew his sharp pinky over her full, tremulous lip. He paused with a snarl, and then rested his head atop hers, sinking his cheek into the silky, pillowed curls there, his voice a wounded rasp, as he held her still.

"Do you have ANY idea......... how HARD I tried not to love you........"

"Do you......... love me?" She asked breathlessly, trembling in his forceful hold, but she didn't fight him, and he sighed in defeat, his eyes murderous, his claws still firmly cradling his porcelain doll's head.

"More than Christmas......." His windstorm rage withered into a whisper, trading away his secret, his eyes flashing with something fearfully fond, pressing a kiss into her halo of curls. Damn this perfect creature. "I will confess, I had no designs for this to be a happy marriage, Mrs. Manx. Before I said, I do, tricked you into signing away your life, your hand, on that majestic Christmas Eve, and watched your eyes dance, glistening in the cascading glow of white lights, your beauty purely blinding, as I slid the lie onto your finger......... and let the trap close around you, before that profound moment, I had thought there existed no such thing as a happy marriage. Only fools enjoy such a suffocating union, under the thumb of a woman, as their dreams die slowly with them. What is a wedding, truly, but a man's funeral!?" He snarled coldly, his lip furled, and then slowly, his claws retracted.

"And then you happened, Allyssa Jolene, stole your way into my hardened heart, husband and wife fighting on opposite sides, and still sharing the same bed, as much devoured by the other's passions as ever........ How preposterous! Sickness, health, and all that humbug, but even quarreling with you in conflict is explicit bliss.

He let her go roughly, but did not release her from the intensity of his gaze, eying her with an especially derisive arched brow. "What now, Ally Manx? How does this fated love story end? We have proved beyond doubts and shadows that we cannot kill each other, and yet a problem called Vic McQueen persists, putting us ultimately at odds. I want to kill her, and she wants to kill me, while you seem rather reluctant to let either wish be granted, languishing between........" His smirk crept across his lips, especially smug. "And yet, you're not truly on either side, are you, My Dearest Love? If she knew that you were here, that you had betrayed her, by coming to me, succumbed to one last late night tryst in our marriage bed no less, she'd hate you forever. She'd never trust you again. Oh is there anything more fickle than a woman?

"I know, I shouldn't have come, but I-I couldn't resist seeing you, Charles, touching you, kissing you!!! I need you....... It doesn't have to be this way!!! You can end this, right now........."

Charlie's black eyes snapped, as she hugged his waist, and nestled her curly head into his shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut. So demure, my clever temptress....... But the honeymoon....... is long over.

Ally struggled against him as he seized both of her hands, entwining their fingers, attempting to hold her in place, as he forced her to lay back down, pressing her under him as he moved on top of her, snickering to himself, knowing she wasn't fighting very hard.

"The time for dealing and truces has long passed, My Love, this ends in blood. I AM going to end this", he purred, releasing his talons from one of her hands, to stroke her spilt curls on his pillow, as she looked back with big, sad, green eyes. "And when I do........ Your amusing little girl gang will be finished, and you will never go against me again once you've beheld what I've done to her."

He grinned even more charming, kissing her deeply, but the threat lingered in the heat of his passion, so coldly, that she shivered beneath him.

"I love you, Charles, but I won't let you kill her. I-I have to stop you, save you from yourself, so we can be together."

He kissed her angrily, his tooth catching on her lip, and then grabbed hold of her face to stop her, before she could kiss him back, his voice especially sinister.

"I will kill her....... even if it means sacrificing your love."

"Charles, NO! You cannot mean that!" She cried out in protest, her sweet eyes horrified, and he whisked his razor tipped nails across her dove white cheek.

"I do," He quipped cleverly, toying with the ring on her hand, feeling her close it into a fist, fearing he'd meant to rip it from her delicate little finger. Oh no, Wife....... You WILL wear my ring, and you will come back to me. Once I kill that petulant little bitch, you will have no choice, but to BEHAVE.

"Charles, I beg you-"

"AND if you do manage by some unforeseen twist of fate to leave here........" He finished coolly, cutting off her impassioned pleas. "You will never be free of me......." He leaned in closer, breathing in deeply, brushing his nose against hers, breathing heavily on her lips as he spoke. "I will find you," He whispered sing song, stroking her forehead. "You are my wife til death do us part, and lucky you, for I.......... am immortal."

He chuckled and expected her to continue pleading, struggling, reasoning, but instead she did the one thing he never saw coming........ Ally slowly lowered her curly head, and kissed just so where his wisps of silky chest hair began, her voice so full of desire, his hold loosened completely.

"What makes you think........ I want to be free of you.......?"

Charles' lips parted, euphoric, practically purring as he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him, clasping the back of her head, nails in curls, kissing her, devouring her lips with an insatiable hunger.

She grinned against his lips, kissing him even more ravenously, hair dangling in her eyes, letting her ache, her love for his beautiful wickedness flood from her very being.

"You always did have such a fiery way with words, My Divine," He breathed feverishly, the two of them sharing air, drowning in each other. "And yet...... Your lips hold more of desire's own fire, than your words could even form."

"I would die without your kiss, Charles. Do not perpetrate so cruel a punishment as starving me of it."

Charles smiled at her very boyishly, scrunching the back of her tresses, as their lips met again in a rush of burning heat, and sultry smoulder.

"No, I think I'll feed it to you instead, tempt you with it, until this crusade against me, holds nothing so enticing. Forget her, Ally. Choose me. Let me make love to you, My Snow Queen, with a passion and tenderness so intense, that we shall transcend our naked bodies, and touch the stars. Stay with me, and I will be again your saintly suitor. We will be as we were........ Once upon a December."

Charlie started to hum the tune to which they had fallen in love inside a snowglobe, moving together in perfect mirror images as one, the motion and lines, living poetry.

Ally gazed back at him lovingly, her face flushed in an enthralled daze as Charlie cast his enchantment, and the pure and utter joy shining in her eyes, colouring her crimson cheek was exquisite, creating in him such an ecstasy, as nothing he ever knew any one thing could inspire.

But just as quickly as the lightning had come and struck, so did the tears, and regretful sorrow. "Oh My Darling Charles! What you have thus described is my own blinding Elysium, my perfect inscape of tender caresses and naked skin, but I-I cannot....... As badly I as want to surrender to this beckoning heaven, become one with my beloved husband in all of his beautiful wickedness, and immortal beauty, give myself to him, consummate our love, I must refuse until this business with Vic is finished. Only when I have you all to myself, and you are not wooed by this war with her, can I ever be yours, body and soul."

"Then FINISH IT," Charles rasped, purposefully breaking the spell, tearing himself off her, and yanking her from the bed, his eyes an angry, burning black oblivion."

"Charlie-"

Charlie charged swiftly to the window throwing it open, and rushed back to take her into his arms, as she froze, confused.

"Please Charlie, don't be angered."

"I am not," He said said much softer, kissing the back of her hand, losing his eyes in her black lace bodice. "I am........ Impatient. So finish it, Allyssa, my brave, defiant wife. FINISH it, DAMN IT!!!! Fly back to Vic McQueen, and give it your best shot, raise hell against me, and don't worry," he smirked as she nervously bit her lip. "Our overnight will be our little secret. I won't tell her that you were weak and came to me. Go, and do your worst, Mrs. Manx, and when you fail spectacularly to stop me, to wrest away my children from their happy home, when I kill Vic McQueen, slowly, leisurely, licking up every delicious moment while I make her suffer right in front of you........ Come back to me, give me my hard won prize, and end this ungrateful ugliness." He seethed, pulling her up against his chest, carried, legs dangling, in his strong, muscular arms, and she gripped onto him tight as he hopped feverishly up to the window's ledge.

"Charles, NO, wait, please-!!! DON'T!!!"

"What's the matter, My Dove? Don't you want to....... fly?"

Charles hurled her out the open window, watching as she tumbled into the snow, more a blackbird in that scandalous gown than a snow white dove. She scrambled to get up, and took off running, and he leant against the window frame, shirtless and smirking, waiting for it. Sure enough, once she'd scurried far enough away, she chanced a glance over her shoulder, to look at him one last time......... He met her lonely gaze, and blew a kiss to her almost spitefully. Fly away, little blackbird, but know......... You will never escape this cage.

[fasa-umich]

Bea Fandiño, FASA 2020-21 Co-President

One Last Time

We’re gonna teach them how to say goodbye...

3/19/2021

Wowee, what a whirlwind of a year. These past twelve months have been filled with so much to be proud of—I even started a list of “Proud Mom Moments” last May so I could document all the small triumphs worth recognizing. It’s as if I’ve been planning out this testimonial since my election into the Co-Presidency, so I only laugh as I try to put all these thoughts to paper the day after my testimonial was supposed to be done (sorry ading Janielle—Filipino time, am I right?).

“Pick up a pen, start writing.”

I want to start off by saying that this year was not easy. It wasn’t for anyone. Our board came into our tenure hitting the ground running, full of visions and concrete plans for FASA, only to have them thwarted time and time again by circumstances out of our control. Let it be known that if this was a normal year, our board would have absolutely crushed it. x1000.

But it wasn’t a normal year. And you know what? We still crushed it. We changed the game. And while it can be so easy to focus on what could have been, doing so would distract us from celebrating everything that was.

This was the mentality Izzy and I pushed at the onset of the summer. Yes, FASA has traditions. There are certain aspects of our programs that everybody loves and expects to see each semester. But FASA is also dynamic. Every year, boardies are challenged with finding the balance of upholding tradition while trying new things and pushing the boundaries. And with the nature of this year, there was no better time to challenge ourselves to do the latter. Because we wanted to do more than just “survive”—we were ready to reach new heights.

Pinay Power looking fire as hell

So what exactly was FASA this year? If I had to choose one word, it’s resilient. Bouncing back after each hurdle, our boardies refused to give up on this org; as did our members, who stayed with us through it all. PCN can’t happen in person? Cool, let’s turn it into a frickin’ MOVIE. Can’t have big group gatherings? Okay, let’s leverage our FAM’s to build stronger small-group bonds. Can’t travel to external orgs? No big deal, let’s organize virtual discussions with our Michigan Philippine Student Associations and our fellow Latinx friends on campus. Even in the face of adversity, FASA resiliently remained rooted in culture, tied together in family, and strengthened by our dedication to the community.

Pop quiz: What are the three ~pillars~ of FASA?

None of this could have been accomplished without the perseverance of our board. Without Janielle’s commitment to high quality. Sean’s willingness to ask important questions. Josh’s contagious, positive energy. Kris’s flexibility and open mindedness. Christine’s constant, uplifting support. Lauren’s willingness to step up for anyone and everyone. Angelina’s dedication to collaboration. Jason’s careful consideration for vision and purpose. Jolene’s innovative ideas. Estelle’s passion for navigating cultural discussion. Kate’s constant communication and initiative. Sam’s critical eye when we’re overthinking things. Kaitlyn’s honesty with what she believes is best. Izzy’s never-ending drive to make sure each person feels heard and supported. To my boardie family, you are an absolute inspiration. Your work ethic is unmatched, your care invaluable, and your determination a force to be reckoned with. It has been a true honor to work with you, to learn from you, and to be your friend.

“And I know we weren’t perfect, but I’ve never felt this way for no one.”

When people ask me what my favorite aspect of the Co-Presidency is, I actually find a strong parallel with my past experience as Performance Chair. In performance, you get to see people grow throughout the year, building up unique confidence and boldness through cultural expression. As Co-President, I had the honor of seeing that growth extended as I watched those same individuals rise as leaders and come to own their position in FASA. Through the trials and successes, to be granted a front-row seat in that journey is a privilege, and I thank each of my boardies for letting Izzy and me join along for the ride. We definitely took a more hands-on approach this year (hopefully you didn’t get too sick of us, lol), and with that, an even deeper understanding of the efforts and motivations of the people who make it all happen. And being challenged to make the tough calls, actively listen to what people have to say, take action to move forward, and use my voice to stand up for what I believe in, I learned just as much from my boardies as they (hopefully) did from me. Even as Co-President, there is always more FASA and Filipino culture to explore, as well as more to learn from those around you.

“I wanna talk about what I have learned, the hard-won wisdom I have earned.” -Boomers

On that note, FASA would not be standing so tall—well, as tall as a Filipino can be—today if it weren’t for our general members. To my first years: Your energy is what kept FASA fueled this entire year. To my sophomores: Thank you for sticking with us, engaging with our programs, and keeping FASA a part of your life. To my alpha dings juniors: Literally, I can’t imagine life without you. To my grad student population of ~2 (and growing!!): You are history in the making! Keep the momentum going! And to my seniors: I’ll save the sappy goodbyes for when you leave my life forever in a month (mom and dad, I already know I’m gonna cry and you’d best believe I’m bringing you down with me). But in all seriousness, your constant support over the years has shaped FASA into the community we know and love.

Like I said before, FASA is dynamic. It’s ever-changing. But even if the FASA 10 years from now is different from the FASA we know today, the impact we have made on each other’s personal and cultural journeys remains true. That’s the beauty of this family—stripping away the official title and positions, at the end of the day, we’re all just defining our own Filipino American experience together. And though FASA will continue to change, that personal impact is something that will stand the test of time.

“No matter where life takes us, nothing can break us apart...I just wanna be with you.”

Okay yeah yeah, I know I’m a sap, just let me be Feelings Chair for once. Before I wrap things up, there are a few people I want to acknowledge:

Mai-Ly and Elisa: X FAM BEST FAM!! Seriously, you should be incredibly proud of yourselves as FAM Heads. X FAM broke records this year, and I could not be more happy with the top-tier music videos, hella extra [exclusive] merch (other fams be jealous), COASTERS (lol), and overall stronger fam. Thank you for putting up with my sometimes overly Type A agendas and being so flexible amidst the craziness.

Kris and Josh: Long! Live! FASA! Performance! You guys were faced with a lot of difficulties this year. But in the end, you kept performance not only alive, but also fun and something members looked forward to, whether virtually or in-person. I am so incredibly proud of you and honored to have been your dancer :).

Izzy: The Isa to my Bella, the Pierogies to my Beaf. Thank you for being the absolute best co I could possibly ask for and the most amazing friend in the world. You challenged me to keep the big picture in mind and were integral in helping all of us (especially me) balance hard work and fun. As someone easily caught up in the grind and instinctively expecting others to be the same, you kept me in check and indirectly reminded me to take a breather and make sure board was enjoying what they were doing. I will forever have a love-hate relationship with our three- to six-hour calls, and you will always have a spot in my GCal for a Thursday night meeting-turned-dinner-turned-therapy session. It baffles me to think that we weren’t that close before 12 months ago. Thank you for being not only my inspiration as a leader but also my constant as a friend.

Team Isabella 4 Life

So where do we go from here? Admittedly, we couldn’t do everything we wanted to do this year. Izzy and I had a vision for FASA, and it can get discouraging when you’re not able to see your vision through. But at the end of the day, we had to accept that we might not be able to reach the end-goal. If the best we could do right now was focus on the present, make the most for our current membership, and set FASA up for future success, then we were gonna give that our all. And if the INCREDIBLE drive and work ethic of our Interns is an indicator of anything, I have full confidence in the passion, leadership, and people that will continue to join our organization and further its growth. FASA is in good hands—I can’t wait to see where it goes next.

“Your position is so unique.” “So I’ll use it to move them along.”

Looking back on why I ran for board in the first place my freshman year, I remember wanting so desperately to be able to give back to an organization that had given me so much. Thank you, FASA, for giving me the opportunity to do just that. Whether as a general member or Performance Chair or Co-President, I hope I’ve been able to create that safe space that makes FASA feel like home. I said it last year, but I will say it again—FASA, thank you for trusting me. It’s been an honor growing with you.

Mahal na mahal kita,

Bea Fandiño, FASA Co-President

[williamsockner]

I saw your comments about country music on the Chicks thread and I’m curious about your opinion. I grew up on country music and feel like “9/11 killed country” is pretty valid. But I’d love to hear your take because I miss it [country music].

Hi! So, my major issue with the “9/11 killed country music” post, as someone who listens to a ton of musical genres but has both a history of and soft spot for country, is that it’s a reductive, cherrypicking way to define an entire massive genre based on a handful of individual songs and high-profile artists that had their heyday at this point nearly two decades ago (Toby Keith, Big & Rich, etc.). It’s a very slanted read on pop radio country, and it’s not even remotely accurate to quantifying the broader genre.

It’s just bizarre that people allow their idea of the whole genre to be molded by a spate of reactionary right-wing songs that found traction immediately after 9/11 and then largely lost dominance in the genre. Most country songs on the radio are not about jingoism - they’re still about a lover done you wrong, or drinking after a hard day’s work, or finding happiness without much money, or teenagers in love, or about the tragedies of alcoholism and domestic abuse, or appreciating your small town, as so much of this genre has always been. If you look at the top 10 right now, there isn’t a patriot song in the whole thing (although two of the songs have overtly Christian references, but that’s always been part of country music too). The militaristic patriotism songs tend to just be one or two songs a year that end up in heavy rotation around the fourth of July and in September, but they get outsized attention comparatively because they’re so offensively grating.

And even after 9/11, for the last two decades most country songs on the radio still haven’t been “nationalist pop with twang”. Yes, in the 2000’s we had “Courtesy of the Red White and Blue” and “Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning” and “American Soldier”, but this was also LGBT+ supporter Shania Twain’s* and avowed Democrat Tim McGraw’s imperial phases, the era of “Before He Cheats” and “Concrete Angel” and “Red Ragtop”, the years that made a Blake Shelton song about breaking out of prison his calling card and gave Miranda Lambert a massive hit with a song about burning her abuser’s house down.

This isn’t to say that country is progressive. Country music has a major problem with being dominated by straight white men, and even straight white women spent several of the last years underrepresented** (to say nothing of LGBT+ artists and artists of color). But that issue predates 9/11, as does the whitewashing of country’s history; the aforementioned Ken Burns documentary does go into how white country musicians forced black musicians out of the scene and erased their accomplishments going back decades before 2001. “Proud to Be an American” and “God Bless the USA”, for the record, were recorded in 1980’s.

Country, as a genre, does lean more conservative than many other genres, but it still holds a wide array of political viewpoints, even on the pop charts. I’m not just talking about indie alt-country darlings, although I’ll get to those in a minute - even pop country megastars are a varied bunch. Eric Church, who currently has a hit on the top 10, just dropped a scathing track called “Stick That in Your Country Song” that cusses out underfunding schools and mass incarceration; Luke Bryan got a #1 hit in 2017 with a chorus that included “I believe you love who you love and ain’t nothing you should ever be ashamed of”; Carrie Underwood pinned an entire album and tour cycle around a single about escaping domestic abuse and recently released a song criticizing gun proliferation; Kacey Musgraves won a CMA for her hit single where she criticizes slut-shaming and encourages women to “kiss lots of boys or kiss lots of girls if that’s something you’re into”, then she won a Grammy for an album where she sings about smoking weed and dedicates an empowerment anthem to the LGBT+ community; Miley Cyrus had an explicitly bisexual song on her most recent “back to her roots” country album; Tim McGraw discussed running for governor of Tennessee as a Democrat and threw his support behind Obama way back during Obama’s 2008 campaign. I’ve been relatively unplugged from country radio for the last few years, but this is all stuff relatively off the top of my head.

And that moves us to alt-country. I die a little inside whenever someone says that they “just mean radio country” when they say they “hate country music”, because alt-country is just the tits. It just is. It’s the best. If someone says they listen to rock music, we don’t assume they only mean Nickelback and Shinedown - and yet somehow we’ve shut country out so much that we don’t even consider that there’s an entire world of the genre beyond what charts - and that world is rich and powerful and thoughtful and as valid a form of music as any other genre. Some favorites contemporary alt-country artists of mine (including some songs about immigration, opiate addiction, protesting war, sexism, agricultural exploitation, homophobia, one bashing Trump directly and even one about female cunnilingus): Courtney Marie Andrews, Ruston Kelly, Tyler Childers, Margo Price, Jason Isbell, Colter Wall, Ian Noe, Kathleen Edwards, Lydia Loveless, Lori McKenna, Amanda Shires, Ashley Monroe, Lucinda Williams, Over the Rhine, Samantha Crain, Shooter Jennings, Cam, John Moreland, Chris Stapleton, Lindi Ortega, Lavender Country, Cody Belew, Honey Harper, Lera Lynn, Nina Nastasia, Patty Griffin, Holly Williams.

The problem with the “9/11 killed country” attitude, to me, is that it’s a stance that requires limited knowledge of country that happened after 9/11 and a selective memory for the country that existed before 9/11. Jingoist country songs existed and found massive success before 9/11; more progressive country songs existed and found success after 9/11. Contrary to what people on tumblr seem to believe, the genre of country music was not just outlaw country, “Jolene” and Woodie Guthrie folk songs until Toby Keith came along; it was already highly Christian/gospel-influenced and highly patriarchal. And it was already full of goofy songs about getting drunk and partying and driving tractors, the predecessors to “bro country”.

I think, personally, we lose so much by centering “Courtesy of the Red White and Blue” and Florida Georgia Line as the first things we think of when we think about country music, because those songs and acts aren’t representative of the genre, or even of the pop country charts. We lose a lot because we lose sight of all the fantastic progressive or apolitical music in the genre, and we lose a lot because we ignore the sins of pre-9/11 country and the opportunity to critique its history of whitewashing, heteronormativity and cultural Christianity by likening it to some sort of good ol’ days.

Thank you for letting me ramble!

*I’m aware of Shania’s ignorant-ass Trump comments, but those reflect more recent political developments for her and came with a hasty retraction.

**Although lol the pop, rock and rap charts have all been brutal to women for the last several years.

[locke-writes]

One Night

Author: locke-writes

Title: One Night

Prompt: She’s A Rebel - Green Day, Bucky Barnes (Musician!Reader x Music Journalist!Bucky AU) For: @thefanficfaerie​ ‘s 3500 follower celebration

Rating; T

Word Count: 3,137

Marvel Taglist: @lotsoffandomimagines​ @lgbtonystarks​

Bucky smiled softly as he watched you in the recording studio. He always enjoyed these moments as they were quite rare. For the most part when you were at home he'd never get to listen to what you'd been working on as you tried to keep full songs a secret. Sometimes he might be asked his opinion on a riff just to help discern if one note sounded better than another for any song you might be working on but you were very much a private person when it came to your songwriting. He found a humor in the fact that this was quite the opposite of you on stage as you'd often tease audiences with bits and pieces of songs currently in the works.

Although he might not admit it out loud Bucky certainly felt that at times he took his position for granted. Not everyone in the world could say they started a company with a friend they'd known since childhood and not everyone could say that it was their job that led them to the love of their life. Bucky always felt he owed it all to fate although Steve had a different opinion on that being part of the reason you and Bucky had met. Bucky stopped his mind from wandering and turned back to the story at hand, jotting down more notes for use when he returned to his office.

Sitting back down in his office Bucky began typing up an outline. He smiled as it felt sort of humorous for him to be writing this particular article. It wasn't just a piece on the anniversary of the your band's debut album or a teaser for the fact that you were working on another to be released later in the year, for him it was partially about the anniversary of when you met, the anniversary of when his life completely changed.

As he was typing he let his mind drift to the first meeting and subsequent thereafter.

The magazine had only been running for six years. It was no Rolling Stone but their readership was growing by the minute what with the fact that they had decided to make it readily available digitally as well as in print an idea that wasn't necessarily revolutionary but did help for availability. Steve had the idea to start the whole thing which Bucky was apprehensive about at first albeit now grateful for Steve pushing him into agreeing. From their apartment originally to now renting out a few floors in Stark Towers they'd risen fast.

Most of what he did on the daily basis was executive work. He didn't hate it but he preferred writing, Steve was more the artist having everything under control when it came to scheduling photoshoots and figuring out who was on the cover every week. Bucky wanted to be the writer, that's really all that he wanted since the start but you own your own company you've got to be the executive. This made the rare moments that either he or Steve got to work on something for themselves and not be stuck in meetings, all the more special. It meant moments where Steve came crashing into Bucky's office, all the more interesting.

"Tell me you don't have plans tonight and mean it." Steve shouted.

"I don't have plans tonight and I mean it" Bucky replied looking up from the outline of future issue topics.

"Good because I need you to take this story off my hands, something came up with one of the photographers and I need to take over which means I won't make this show."

"What's the story?"

"New band on the block, Battering Ram. An indie punk band that's doing a series of club shows in the city before they head on their first US tour. It's their debut album and I scheduled them for an interview. A real, who is the band sort of thing, nothing complex."

"Yeah I mean, have you cleared it with their manager or whoever you've talked to"

"Called him about an hour ago. I figured you'd say yes, told him I'd be giving you my ticket and press pass but that you'd need your name added to the list since it's a sort of, first come first serve show tonight."

Bucky nodded as Steve walked out, he glanced down at the ticket noting that doors opened at 7:30. He knew if anything he should be there at 5 for sound check but he knew it might be better to be there at the start of the show rather than before in an effort to get a real feel for who the band was.

Backstage at the club you were buzzing, excitement running through you. Everything seemed surreal and you couldn't seem to focus on the lyrics you'd been working on. The guitar techs were tuning everything up which meant you couldn't even play a little or work on anything new. You just felt lucky that you weren't the only one who seemed to be a bit nervous and filled with excited energy. Sam was going over the setlist spouting out lyrics as if he'd forget them on stage which you knew had never and probably would never happen. Thor was tossing drumsticks back and forth tapping out a beat on his knees while Nat was organizing and reorganizing all her bass picks.

The album had only been out for a few weeks but it had been gaining traction steadily, something you'd hoped for but never thought possible.

You'd all met through one another, Sam being friends with Thor because they met at some bar when it was open mic night. Nat had been your roommate who knew someone who knew someone who'd gone to college with Thor. None of you could have predicted that you'd hit it off nor that you'd all come together in such a way to form a bad that would actually have some modicum of success.

All of you were nervous in part because you wanted a great show but in part because you knew there was a music journalist coming. Well, not just any music journalist, the Bucky Barnes. You'd been reading the magazine he'd created since day one and now he was coming that night to see the show and interview you all. You just tried to keep your mind on the show all through soundcheck and then when it came time for the actual concert.

Part of Bucky's approach to covering new bands was to never read up on them or listen to anything before the show. He wanted a true first impression, he wanted the music and the stage presence to speak for itself not be built up in his mind because of something he'd already read or heard online. To say he was thrown by the number of people piling out the door was an understatement. The club wasn't large but it wasn't small either and he was sure that there were double the amount of people that the fire department would permit. He gave his name at the door and showed his press pass pushing his way up to the bar to get a better view of the stage.

Pulling out the small notebook that he'd placed in his pocket he began noting the stage. Minimalist was the right word for it. A banner with the band name and the instruments selected for the first song were already on stage. Bucky wondered if there would be more added, if maybe this was just set up for soundcheck earlier and hadn't been changed out. Twenty minutes later after getting caught up in conversation with a few fans who'd agreed to give quotes for the article Bucky was shocked to find that the stage hadn't been changed. This was just how it was going to be.

Sam ran out on stage first as always to introduce the rest of the band. You scanned the crowd looking at the size and you grinned. These were the places you'd first experienced the music that would change your life, you loved the fact that you'd get to share it with a crowd here. Maybe someone in the crowd could be influenced by what happened here on stage. You counted off in your head before strumming the opening chord.

Never in his life would Bucky admit too feeling foolish at the moment he'd first heard Battering Ram play. Never in his life would he admit this to you, but that's exactly what he felt in the first moment when the music washed over him. In that first moment, with that first song, he hated himself for not knowing about the band sooner. Punk was a finicky genre nowadays with a lot of bands trying to recapture early 70's punk but failing to find any originality. But here you all were with this sound that he couldn't quite describe. There were notes of Ramones, Black Flag and even X yet somehow you tossed that all on its head when you launched into a cover of Jolene which was unexpected by himself but apparently on the album as he heard whispers in the crowd of people not certain if that would be played.

He hated the fact that he actually had to judge the show at that moment. He hated it because he wanted to watch, he wanted to listen to opinion. And he wanted specifically to pay attention to you. There was something about you, he couldn't say what, but he was enthralled — entranced — by you. You didn't sing backing vocals like most guitarists, you just played. Sometimes you interacted with the other members of the band but mostly you just seemed to exist almost as a fixture of the crowd itself, either starting or ending the songs. You talked with the crowd, you played riffs of songs not performed and then you melted into the music.

Time was lost and before Bucky realized the encore had been finished you and the band retreated off stage. He slid through the crowd making his way past security to backstage where it was a whirlwind of movement, everyone checking off and packing instruments away. Coughing briefly he made himself known shaking hands. Water was handed out and he began a long line of questioning.

There were good and bad interviews in every reporters life. Sometimes there was little to work with, answers that didn't seem fully formed and no matter what prodding nothing could be produced to fill up the word or page limit that was set. This was a good interview, every member eager to answer questions. Bucky learned everything there was to know, from how everyone started in music to how you met, the horror stories of early gigs and when you realized that you had an audience. He asked about the album, about influences, about who wrote songs and why.

That night he learned you didn't sing because you sounded terrible but you wrote all the songs (a few with help), because lyrics seemed to constantly flow through your head. That night he learned that Sam sang because he'd been forced into choir as an elective in high school and figured out that he actually kinda liked it. He learned that Nat wanted to be a bassist not only because of the small amount of female bassists in the world but because she realized that all her favorite songs had great bass parts. Thor's nickname was the God of Thunder because he had tried and failed miserably to play soft beats on the drums but always gravitated towards the loud booming sound.

Bucky learned a lot that night, including the fact that he knew he wanted to ask you out. Physical attraction certainly didn't hinder what he felt but there was something there, something that he felt when you spoke that he didn't want to stop feeling. He'd ended up lingering backstage that night long after the interview was over, helping out break down the set, grabbing drinks with the band, and suddenly when the night couldn't have gone any better there you were, sliding a piece of paper with your number on it and telling him to text you sometime.

Sometime was later that night when he texted asking if there was any way you had time to grab dinner. You replied not even five minutes later saying that you didn't have a show the next night and was that too soon.

It wasn't too soon, in fact it wasn't soon enough.

Steve teased him the next day when they had a one on one meeting about the show. Bucky sped through the details and rushed straight into the fact that he had a date with you that night. Bucky knew that what Steve said about his inability to focus through the story was true and after Steve had left he began trying to work out just what he was going to say in the article He was pleased that the words seem to flow through him as he began writing but his mind kept wandering. Leaving work that night he practically ran home just to get ready and over to the restaurant to meet you for your date.

The first date.

The last first date either of you would ever have. Although Bucky didn't know it at the time.

Whatever he had felt the night before when talking to you alone, he felt it again when he saw you outside of the restaurant waiting for him. He almost asked you about it though he refrained in case it was something strange, something that you'd find odd. He'd learn later that no, you'd certainly felt it too.

That night you asked him about his arm, something Bucky found easy to speak with you about rather than the sense of fear he felt upon some explanations. You asked him about the magazine and was he terrified in starting it up. You asked him about the big things like where did he see himself in ten years and asked about the little things like his favorite color. He asked you about the band and did you ever think that you would be a musician for the rest of your life. He asked you about the guitars you played and why you continued to play the first guitar you ever owned. He asked you about your childhood and about everything he could think of.

If there wasn't reason to leave like the place closing you could have stayed talking to him forever. That night Bucky kissed you when he took you back to your apartment and if you could see the future through a kiss than you would have seen the rest of your life laid out before you.

Two nights later you had your second date as Bucky figured out when you didn't have shows. What shows you did have he managed to make it too, at one point bringing Steve along for you to meet. Steve didn't bother saying anything about what he saw that night to Bucky but he noted the way you looked at his friend and Steve knew, or at least he had a feeling he hoped was going to be right, that you and Bucky were it for each other.

In the two weeks that you were going to be in the city your time was split between the band and Bucky, not that anyone in the band cared. They saw that Bucky made you happy and they liked him, not just as someone who they approved of but as someone they didn't hate hanging out with. The last night before the tour you and Bucky decided to try and work through the long distance thing. Both of you were nervous but you knew that if you texted and called one another when you could as well as making use of the wonders of Skype dates then maybe everything would come together.

The story was published three weeks after the show where you'd met. Suddenly Battering Ram was climbing the charts and extending the tour from six months to seven. Bucky was disappointed it would be another month he'd have to wait to see you but he didn't care because he'd wait a lifetime for you. He told you this when you Skyped him to give him the news and all you could do was smile. Part of you felt like you were rushing into something with Bucky but another part of you felt like this was what you had wanted for your entire life whether you'd been aware of it our not.

He ended up meeting you at the airport when you landed after the last show of the tour. Dropping you off at your apartment he ended up staying the weekend. At the end of that weekend he ended up asking if you wanted to get an apartment together. You said yes.

Three days was the amount of time before you decided to live together and three months was the amount of time it took before Bucky decided to propose. He didn't have a ring, he didn't have a plan, in fact he didn't even know he was going to ask before he did. You were on the couch eating dinner and watching Netflix while he was in the kitchen grabbing a drink for you, you laughed at some joke and then the words were out there in the air. You were stunned and he was stunned but he repeated the words anyway, this time more sure of himself because he knew that this was exactly what he wanted.

That electric feeling that blew through him the first time you met, the feeling that coursed through his veins every time he kissed you. He didn't want to stop having that feeling. It felt surreal to him that you'd said yes to a first date, to a second, and to getting married. It felt surreal when the wedding was over and there was a ring on his finger, it felt surreal that you were his and he was yours for the rest of his life. It was something that Bucky would never take for granted.

Bucky saw a notification pop up on his phone, just you letting him know you were picking up dinner and asking if he wanted his usual from the Chinese place by the studio. He quickly sent back a reply and put the finishing touches on the story before sending it off to Steve to review and heading out of the office.

This was his life now, one he would never change for anything in the world. He had a job he loved, friendship he would never take for granted and most importantly. Bucky had you.

[tazzytypes]

Apocalypse: Sanctuary - Chapter 2

Read on AO3

Just because your roommates are horrible doesn't mean you all can't have a good time now and again... just don't tell Venable.

Hey guys. this scene is pretty short in comparison with my other chapters thus far. It didn't blend well with the other things I have planned, but I thought it was important to show the good times at Outpost 3 as well as the bad. Consider it a palette cleanser for what is to come. Michael will be here by Chapter 4...

The excitement over the idea of salvation by the cooperative was a short-lived joy. After months of listening to “The Morning After” by McGovern over and over and over was enough to make the residents of Outpost 3 question their sanity as well as their conviction.

Em walked into the salon, her hands wrapped around a collection of pens she had been able to scavenge from her room. She pulled at the obnoxiously high collar of her white shirt. Whenever evening wear wasn’t an obligation, she liked to dress in as few layers as she could — Victorian underwear and a dress that made her look like some governess of orphaned children in a period drama. 

Swinging the door open, she stopped in her tracks. The room was usually devoid of life except for the 6 o’clock “cocktails.” Andre sat there on the couch, his back to her as he stared into the fire.

The brunette debated turning on her heels, but by the time she took a step back, it was too late. Andre’s head turned, hair raising on the back of his neck as he sensed her green eyes boring into his back. He wondered if she would go away if he ignored her long enough, but curiosity got the better of him His head turned ever slightly and Em pretended like she had meant to be seen by the man.

Heels clicked against the wood flooring, only a few steps before pausing at the edge of the large black coffee table between the two large dark sofas.

Two months after Stu’s death and his cheeks were still damp with tears. His red eyes burned her, anger unyielding. She was deserving of his hate... even more so than the others. Just as she couldn’t reassure him of Stu’s safety she could not tell him of her guilt. At least the others showed remorse and disgust at their own actions.

Em tried to speak with Andre on multiple occasions, but her words came out hollow. Anything she said was just to chase off her own guilt. At one point she had mistakenly reminded Andre that he had also eaten from the stew... it didn’t end well. 

Needless to say, these days, the only person he spoke to was Dinah.

There was so much anger and grief twisting inside him. He wanted to scream and throttle Venable damn the consequences. At least then he’d be reunited with the man he loves... loved. One meal and the bonds made in good faith and mutual tragedy were fractured with the crack of a whip. 

Em wished he would just verbally eviscerate her like he did Evie. His silence was suffocating. Instead, they stood in awkward silence. She really wasn’t good at this.

“So…” Em trailed, leaning back on her heels and biting her lips as she thought of what to say. Another apology would sound insincere and they both knew it would end them right back where they began. 

“So,” Andre mocked, scoffing as he turned back to the fire. 

Em rose a hand as if to reach out to him, mouth opened before closing it once more. Her hand reached out to him before drawing back, hand running through her hair then returning to her side. 

 “What’s it like having Dinah Stevens as a mother?”

Another scoff, followed by his gaze flickering up and down her with disdain.

She finally settled on the couch opposite him, “Sore subject… fair.”

“Also literally asked by every person I’ve ever met.”

Mc nodded, “basic.”

“Yup,” Andre said, popping the “p.”

Fiddling with the pens in her hand, Em racked her brain for something to say. It was a curse, anxiety. It made everything seem much worse than it was and was often accompanied by an overwhelming desire to be liked by everyone… well… almost everyone. Involuntary cannibalism would have been considered some of the worst, but it pales in comparison to nuclear winter. 

Her leg bounced up and down and her eyes flickered from the fire to the ceiling to Andre and back again. Usually, in these moments she’d take out her phone, pens could only distract one for so long.

“God, I wish we had alcohol,” She sighed.

“Amen to that.”

The door creaked open. Em jumped to her feet, holding back the urge to run towards Emily as she quietly closed the door behind her. It felt like an eternity before she turned around. A smile lit up Emily’s face and she waved a collection of paper she had been able to find.

“Ready?”

Relief rolled off Em, tension leaving her shoulders as they can to settle around the coffee table. There was plenty of room, but Em still found it more comfortable to sit on the floor, skirt billowing around her like a puddle of purple. She took a pen and piece of paper and leaned over the table.

“You start. Give me a band.”

Emily’s lips twisted and her nose scrunched as she thought, “… The Beatles.”

Em scribbled down the name and tore it from the rest of the paper, placing it in a small wooden box Emily had brought with her. She grabbed a paper and pen of her own and turned to Em. “Now you.”

“Panic at the Disco.”

“Why am I not surprised.”

Em couldn’t help the laugh that left her, “shut up. You said The Beetles.”

“What? It’s a classic.”

Andre’s attention turned from the fire to the pair sitting across from him. He would have left, but after months and months of doing nothing but waking up and waiting to sleep again he was dying for something different.

“Lady Gaga,” Em said.

“Madonna.” Emily countered.

“Justin Bieber.”

“Justin Timberlake.”

“What are you doing?” He finally asked after a few more rounds of them shooting random words back and forth. 

“Pictionary,” Emily answered him with a smile, cheeks flushed from laughing, “Em had the idea.”

“Pictionary?” Andre asked, slowly scooting closer, “Is that a game?”

“Yeah!” Em answered, “My siblings and I used to play it all the time. Right now we’re coming up with random things to go in a hat.”

She motioned to the box slowly gathering more and more strips of paper, “The game is to pick one of these and try to draw it while your teammates guess what it is.”

“So like art charades?”

“Pretty much!”

A small smile flickered to Andre’s lips as he stood up and came to sit beside Emily. 

“Okay. I have one: Dinah Stevens.”

“Oooh,” Em awed, pointing a pen at Emily and Andre, “that’s a good one. Should we do one for each resident?”

Emily shrugged, “I don’t see why not.”

“How angry do you think Coco would be if we put her in there?” Andre asked, grabbing a pen and paper of his own.

Em looked like the Cheshire Cat, smiling ear to ear, “Furious,”

“Let’s do it.”

As the hours passed, more and more residents joined. A few Greys even whispered ideas into Em’s ear as they passed and she would scribble them in and throw them in the box. Em finally took a seat on one of the couches, Timothy and Emily on her right and Coco to her left.

“Okay!Okay!” Em exclaimed as people yelled things at her all at once, “One at a time! Give me stuff. Movies, books, albums, famous people, sayings. Coco! Go!”

“Michel Jackson!”

Em scribbled down the name and tossed it into the pile of paper that threatened to spill from the small box, “Alright! Now… Emily!”

“To Kill a Mocking Bird!”

She nodded as she scribbled it down, “… and since I’m Emily squared I get to go next.”

Gallant groaned, “oh, c’mon!”

“Hey!” Em snipped, smiling as she swung a pen at the man who could only smile and laugh at her antics, “I’m the one with the pen. My pen, my rules!”

Coco leaned over Em, “What are you writing?”

“Stevie Nicks!”

Leaning back in his seat, Gallant draped an arm across the back of his chair, perplexed, “Isn’t that the woman that sings Jolene?”

“NO!” At least five people yelled in unison, quickly falling into a collection of giggles.

Em feigned insult, “how can you mistake Dolly Parton with Stevie Nicks.”

Gallant waved a dismissive hand, “We aren’t all from the countryside of Georgia.”

“I was raised near Atlanta, thank you very much,” Em jested, “I’m only a quarter country girl.”

“Do you have those shirts that say: ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve had my sweet tea?’” Coco asked, hands spreading out like she was hanging up a banner. 

Em couldn’t keep her smile down, “That was one time!”

“Uh-huh,” Gallant laughed, “Suuure it was.”

The brunette grabbed an extra pen and chucked it at the man. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d laughed like this. God knows none of them had even been in a room together without mandatory attendance.

Timothy sat at the edge of the group. He shuffled through the cards they had made, sorting them so they’d fit in the box. “I think we’ve filled out the last one.”

Coco looked around at everyone, “So… we get to play now?”

“Not today,” Emily declared, smiling at Timothy as he held out the box for her to place the top on it. Coco, Andre, and Gallant booed them.

“Look,” Em defended Emily, hands wringing at her wrists “I know y’all were just spitting out words, but I had to write them all down. My poor wrist needs a break.”

“Oh boo-hoo,” Coco said.

“Half the fun is not knowing what’s coming,” Timothy reminded, his eyes not leaving Emily. Em could tell he was smitten with her. Poor boy didn’t know how to hide anything.

“Well I don't know about y’all,” Andre spoke, mocking Em’s slight accent as he rose from the couch, “But I’m going to take a nap.”

“I agree, y’all,” Gallant jumped on, dodging another pen Em threw in his direction. 

“Words are an illusion created by humanity,” She jested, earning a dismissive wave from the hairdresser as he walked out the door, “It’s conventional!!”

Coco sighed and laid back on the couch, closing her eyes as she began to whine “I wouldn’t mind the constant hunger if it didn’t come with the constant tiredness.”

Em looked to Timothy and Emily. The latter rolled her eyes.

“I feel like I’m back in college,” Em said, leaning back on Emily, “Eating sleep for dinner.”

She could feel Emily’s shoulders shake as she laughed. Timothy took a seat on the other side of the coffee table, resting on the arm of the chair, “C’mon. It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“I spent finals week eating only spoonfuls of peanut butter. Then the next year I bought a Costco-sized thing of ramen noodles.”

Emily leaned back her head and groaned, “Don’t talk about food. Even ramen noodles make my mouth water.”

Somehow, Em had made her way from leaning on Emily’s shoulder to having her head in the other girl’s lap. Emily’s hands absentmindedly ran through the brunette’s short bob which was growing longer by the day. 

“Oh!” A memory struck Em like a lightning bolt, “my friend took me to an authentic ramen place before the bombs.”

She hummed at the mere thought of the food, “Best. Thing. Ever. They had special ramen eggs and topped it off with a slab of pork that just fell apart—”

Coco jumped from her seat with a huff, “You’re all sadistic!”

The three of them watched as the blonde stormed across the room, door slamming behind her with a loud bang which made their bones shake. Then they looked to each other, biting their lips but ultimately falling into laughter.

“If I knew it was that easy I would have done it months ago,” Emily laughed.

“C’mon,” Timothy tried to be the voice of reason, trying to keep a straight face but ultimately failing, “That’s just mean.”

“So is Coco,” Em scoffed, reaching for a glass of water, “it’s not like we threatened to kill her.”

“You did,” Emily reminded. 

The other girl paused in her movement and pointed up at her, “Mead said ‘murder’, not me. I said I’d come for her… I didn’t specify how.”

Timothy sighed and shook his head while Emily only looked at him with a smile. 

“At least we have each other,” Emily noted.

Em smiled at that, finally sitting up, “The Three Musketeers!”

“All for one and one for all,” Timothy said.

Emily sighed, “God knows Venable won’t do it.” 

[backpackgrayson]

Reddie Songs but Make it Fics P.2

Jolene by Ray LaMontagne

“Hey, Rich!” Ben says, pulling him into a tight hug.

He returns the hug slowly. When was the last time he’s been hugged? Probably three months ago, probably by Eddie.

“Hiya, Haystack.”

Ben pulls back and is replaced by Beverly, who pulls him close and rests her forehead on Richie’s shoulder. It’s frighteningly similar to how they used to hold each other back in high school, sharing a joint and talking about life while huddled in each other's warmth. When they were together, it was like they created their own little pocket of the universe.

He feels his walls start to slip and he starts to relax into it, but catches himself and hurriedly builds them up. Honestly, he’s surprised the military hasn’t approached him with an offer to buy the material his mental barriers are made out of.

Beverly pulls back with a tight lipped smile, holding him by his shoulders at arms length.

“You look good.”

Liar.

Richie just nods and mumbles, “you too, Bev. You too.”

They wait there, quiet except for Ben’s aborted attempts at conversation (Beverly eventually stops him, whispering something into his ear) until the others arrive.

Hugs and small talk are shared, each of the losers telling him how good his last show was, how he seems happy, asking him how he’s doing and frowning when Richie responds with a curt ‘fine’. They pretend. Pretend there’s seven of them and not five.

Liars. They’re all fucking liars.

Eventually, Bill must get tired of the silence, and walks over to the group of strangers gathered on the grass. Richie and the rest of them follow. Everything’s changed, and yet the need to act like ducklings following after their mother stays.

Beverly grabs his hand as the man dressed in all black except for the white square beneath his throat starts to speak.

“We’re gathered here today in remembrance of Edward Kaspbrak,” Richie resists the urge to yank his hand out of Beverly’s grip and run. “He was a kind man, a loving husband, and a wonderful friend.”

Liar. These people didn’t know him, didn’t spend days talking about hopes and dreams, didn’t know how much Eddie wanted to escape. They didn’t know him at all.

“We’d like to invite Myra Kaspbrak up to say a few words.”

The spitting image of Sonia steps up to the podium, crocodile tears streaming down her cheeks. Richie scowls.She talks on and on about their incredible relationship and their plans and the love they had, only interrupted when she has to turn her head to the side and fake a sob.

It’s like watching a really bad middle school play.

Liar. She’s a liar.

“May you Rest In Peace, my Eddiebear.”

The hand that isn’t in Beverly’s grasp clenches. Eddie wasn’t anybody’s. He owned himself. He was strong, and sure, and nobody’s but his own.

The rest is a blur of faces he’s never seen. He has people commemorate him on how smart and safe he was, how he was self-aware. Once Richie realized that none of these people actually knew Eddie - the Eddie that was a rude little shit, who never, ever backed down from a fight, or a dare, or from making a crude joke - he stopped listening.

He’s equal parts nervous and relieved when they all shut up and walk away, off to enjoy their food and catch up and laugh like they weren’t just at a funeral. Like they weren’t just mourning one of the best people to ever live.

Soon, it’s just him and Beverly, standing on the grass staring at an empty podium like a couple of jackasses.

Richie realises, suddenly, that he’s on the verge of tears. He let's go of Beverly’s hand, communicating silently ‘leave, please’ with his eyes when she looks at him questioningly. They used to do that all the time. With just a glance Beverly would silently say ‘wanna skip math?’ or that one memorable time when it was just Richie and Eddie and her down in the clubhouse and Eddie had fallen asleep with his head on Richie’s shoulder and he’d smiled down at him only to look back up and see Beverly’s eyes. ‘I see,’ they said. Then, she’d left with a smirk. Richie had blushed.

Now, Beverly leaves with a soft hand on his shoulder.

Richie makes his way to Eddie’s grave stone, a simple plaque in the ground. It’s limestone, with ‘loving husband and son’ inscribed underneath. He snorts.

“Holy, shit, Eds. You would’ve hated this,” he chuckles, wincing when he realizes it’s wet with tears. “Seriously, man. It’s a real shit show. Myra called you Eddiebear. It was fucking horrible.”

He stops, waiting for Eddie to answer and lets out a sob when he realizes he’s never going to respond.

“Hey, uh, sorry if this is weird or whatever,” shit, I can’t believe I’m talking to you like you’re here, “but, um, I brought you something.”

He pulls out a thin rock, perfect for skipping. He’d kept it with him his whole life, not really sure why. He turned it into his lucky charm, carrying it in his pocket and nervously fingering it when he went on stage. It didn't make the nerves go away, but it certainly made them easier to handle.

“Remember?” Richie asks as he presses it into the grass above where Eddie lays. “We were at the Barrens and I was so fucking bad at skipping them. Eventually you grabbed my arm and taught me how. You gave me this, said it was the perfect rock. And then I ‘lost it’. God, you were so mad,” he laughs quietly to himself, sticking his hands back in his pockets. “Well, I didn’t lose it. I kept it, man. You were my lucky charm. Figured a little luck might be of use to you wherever you are.”

Richie’s silent for a bit, considering.

“I wanted to kiss you that day. Fuck, I wanted to kiss you everyday,” Richie raises his eyes to the sky. It’s stupid, but he can’t look at Eddie right now. “You have no idea what you did to me. I daydreamed about holding your hand and taking you on picnic dates. Man, I was so fucking whipped. Still am, by the way. I don’t think anything can change the way I feel about you.

“Shit, that’s pathetic. Here I am, a forty year old closeted dude in love with his dead best friend. Pretty sure I could sell the idea to Hallmark and make a fortune.”

His face is probably blotted red with tears, he can feel how puffy his eyes are.

The wind picks up, stirring up the grass directly in front of Richie, right over Eddie. It’s dumb, but Richie starts crying harder. He doesn't believe in all that stupid supernatural shit, but it feels like a goodbye of sorts.

Especially when the gust of air climbs up his leg, and then his chest, brushing over his face until it lands in his hair. For a second, he could’ve sworn it felt like fingers running through his hair. It’s gone just as quickly as it came. Richie lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

The tears stop coming, and the wind disappears altogether. It’s just Richie, left staring at a stone in the ground.

“I love you, Eds,” he leaves out the I’m sorry I never got to tell you because he has the overwhelming feeling that Eddie knows.

[rosevanhelsing]

Chapter 4

Manx got in the car and drove back to town, looked at the card, and drove to the Jeff’s  father workshop. He smiled when he saw that Jeff was there, Jeff  greeted him happily. Charlie got out of the car and said:

- Hello, young Stevens I have brought my car as I told you.

- Good morning, sir ... - said Jeff's father who had come out to greet them.

- Mr. Manx. I met his boy one day and he was so fascinated by my car that he gave me his card in case I ever needed  your  services.

- Ah okay. What has to be done?

- You have to change the oil, and a ruffian broke the car blinker.

Jeff's father Bernard leaned over to look at the  car blinker and said:

- Buff, I need to see if any scrap yards have spare parts ... and they won't be easy to find. While I could fix you if you need the car. Luckily it was only the glass and not the focus.

- Do what you can. Spare no expense.

Bernard went to his office to look at inventories and while Jeff gazed in admiration at the dark Rolls Royce.

"You've fallen in love ..." Charlie said in a joking tone. "Come on, hop up," he said, opening the door for him. You are dying of desire.

Jeff got into the driver's seat, although without starting the engine since Charlie had the keys in his coat.

"You want to take a ride in the Wraith, young Stevens?"

- Call me Jeff, please. And yes, the truth is that I would love ...

Charlie got into the car and Jeff moved to the passenger seat

- Well, while your father looks for the piece, I'll give you a quick walk, although I'm sure it will be the best trip of your life.

Jeff smiled, told his father that he was going for a spin, and settled into the soft leather seat of the Wraith. After two minutes of driving, Manx said:

- Well, Jeff. I don't know if your girlfriend told you that a boy had been bothering her and I helped her.

- Yes of course. And by the way, thank you very much for taking so much trouble, although surely Lily would have ended up solving it herself. Anyway, I'll talk to John and he'll hear me ... the weird thing is that he hasn't come today ...

Charlie chuckled to herself.  Jeff was a very innocent boy, despite his age, and he looked very confident, it would be very easy to get the information he needed from him.

- It was a pleasure helping your girlfriend, she is a charming young woman and without a doubt she could have solved it alone, she is seen as a very talented girl ... to tell the truth, I smell that she has some very special talent ...

- Lily? Well, she certainly has many talents. Like singing, for example, it's like an angel and Mary looks like it will be the same. They sing in a choir and tomorrow they do a little show for the people, you can go see them if you want.

- I'll think about it, it must be worth it ...

- However, I believe that Lily has a much more special gift ...

Charlie arched an eyebrow and smiled. "Now we are going to want to know," Manx thought.

- And what gift is that?

- I think he is able to predict the future using the Tarot Cards.

- Ah, well, how curious, and is she very correct with her predictions?

- I do not know. But once I saw her get weird while doing it ...

- Weird?

- She was like in a trance ... and both the television and the radio began to interfere ... that day he did make a very exact prediction and when he came out of the trance he began to cry and said that he had seen that his father would die, and indeed that same day he died.

Manx had already confirmed her suspicion, Jeff was a good boy but he had no power, the Wraith had not reacted, so it was clear that it was Lily who had it. She had to make it clear to young Aberforth that it was not a good idea to go after him. In fact, the best thing was to get hold of the girl's "knife", probably the Tarot cards she used, and destroy it. If she resisted ... well, maybe he would have to take her on a one-way trip to Christmasland ... although he didn't think it was necessary. Most of the people who were creative souls like him, and there weren't many, as soon as they met him they got out of his way. In other cases, like Jolene Julie, he had been forced to steal or destroy their "knives" and thus he had solved the problem. And  then there  another little problem that he had to solve, who the hell was that mysterious girl visiting Christmasland? He  would take care of that, though, when he was done with Miss Aberforth. Charlie Manx turned the car around and they went back to the garage, just in time for Jeff's father to come out of the office and said:

- It is your lucky day, I found a spare part, but it will take a couple of days to arrive, I will make a fix and a document so that the police do not tell you anything and you can use your car. It will be 450 $

- Thank you. No problem, I'll be around.

Jeff said:

- It's a beautiful car and it's in perfect condition, sir. How did you get it?

- Well ... let's say it was an irresistible offer ... it was a used car but it was practically new. I got it relatively cheap because nobody wanted it.

- And why is that? Is it too flashy? Too old?

- No. It was because its previous owner committed suicide inside with his family.

- Jesus! - Jeff started hurriedly leaving.

The next day there was one of the concerts given by the choir where Lily and Mary sang in one of the churches in town. Charlie came over to pry, since he didn't have anything else to do while he waited for the Rolls’s blinker to be fixed, and he also wanted to observe Lily, to know how to proceed with her. He stood in the last rows and in the shadows so that he can go unnoticed.  The choir director explained that the concert would be movie songs and then they would sing a rehearsal for the Christmas concert.

Lily, having one of the best voices, sang a couple of solo songs, Charlie looked at her and listened with interest, he had to admit that Jeff had not exaggerated, at all, respect for Lily's gift for singing and   also little Mary Aberforth it seemed that she would be as good at singing as her sister

When the two sisters sang Christmas carols, Charlie looked at them avidly and wished to take them to Christmasland, it would be so splendid to hear them sing Christmas carols with his children ... Manx only took children who were in the Cemetery of what might be, but  he was considering making an exception with them... However, it was too risky a move to take them alone. I needed to find a helper soon ...

When the concert ended and the two sisters were leaving with their mother and grandmothers, Charlie introduced himself to them and said:

- My sincerest congratulations, ladies. It has been a pleasure to hear them.

Mary hugged him, to everyone's surprise, including Charlie himself, and said:

- Did you like the way I sang, Mr. Manx?

- A lot, little one- said smiling

"But who are you?" asked Lucy.

- My name is Charles Talent Manx, ma'am. Nice to meet you ...

- Likewise, I am Lucy, the mother of Lily and Mary.

- So you are the one who helped my granddaughters against that stalker? - asked Martha, Lucy's mother.

- Oh, I'm sure her granddaughter Lily would have been able to handle that stalker, but the little girl seemed so scared for her older sister ... also I can't stand men who abuse women and even less children.

Martha looked at him approvingly but Cassandra looked at him suspiciously. She knew who he really was and what he wanted but she couldn't reveal  in public, and it disturbed her how Mary was already falling under the influence of that monster. Cassie grabbed Mary's hand and pulled her closer to her. Lucy said:

- I would like to thank you properly, Mr. Manx ... why don't you come for to have a drink tomorrow at five?

Charlie looked at her doubtfully, his mind weighing the pros and cons at full speed. For him it was too much exposure to public life, but on the other hand he could recognize Lily's terrain, perhaps even find her knife, and he said:

- I will be pleased…                                                                                      

[sapphiresea]

ECCC – The Wayhaught Experience

Hey guys! So a couple people asked that I write about my experience at Emerald City Comic Con, and I did! It’s a bit long, so it’s below a cut because I had a lot to say, but I also trimmed it down a bit for better fit. (Pictures included.)

Now, let me start by saying my plan for the weekend was really simple. I was getting Dom and Kat to each sign my group photo from last year, and on top of that, I was getting another autograph from Dom to use as my tattoo – asking her specifically to write “I’m here and I stay” for me. Then, I was going to get a selfie with each and a duo photo op. Yeah. Let’s not talk about how much extra money I dropped because I decided they were too amazing and wanted to capitalize on this convention as much as possible. But also, I definitely do not regret it.

So once I got my ticket, I headed straight to the building where they had autographs, photo ops, and main stage panels. Although her line was longer, I decided to see Dom first, then Kat, during their first autograph session of the con.

I wasn’t too far back in Dom’s line, which was cool, and it felt pretty fast to get to see her, even though she was chatting with everyone. Two people in front of me were trying to get a selfie and Dom was holding out the camera trying to position it so they were all in frame and it looked like a major struggle bus for someone short, so I offered to help. She immediately thrust the phone at me and very politely agreed and thanked me. So when I got to the front, she was like, “Hello again!”

She was confused by the instruction of her manager for what I wanted for the tattoo, but as soon as I said it, she knew immediately what I meant. She pulled a multicolor pen from her fanny pack, clicked the blue and said she would write it a couple of times to make sure I had what I wanted. The second time was perfect, though. I told her that last summer had been particularly hard and that I had lost a lot of people I cared about, and that Jolene had really helped me to get through some of those nights, and got me to five years clean (which received a “wow” from her). I said that listening to her talk about anxiety in the Black Badge podcast had very much helped inspire me to send in my grad school applications and that I had just been accepted into all the schools to which I applied, and she was really impressed. I can’t remember exactly what she said, but I do remember her saying, “Isn’t it amazing? You’re so afraid of doing something and there’s no reason for it! You got into every school!” She asked where I was planning to go, so I told her I picked York University in Toronto and she said that was awesome and “right around the corner from Kat!” She also asked what I was studying, so I told her quant psych/statistics, and I don’t think she connected as much with that, but she was still very sweet about it. I thanked her and got a really cute selfie before moving on to meet with Kat. 

Kat was a completely different energy altogether! Dom was very mellow and sweet, like she really lives up to that hippie vibe, but Kat was much more intense, full eye contact, leaning forward, asking a bunch of questions.

I got up to her pretty quickly, as the lines weren’t long so early on Friday. I was having her sign my group photo from last year’s Calgary Comic Expo and she recognized it immediately and asked if that’s where I’m from. She was very excited when I said, “yes.” I said I had just flown in that morning before coming and that I was living off about 45 minutes of sleep. She was like, “Oh, so you’re here, but you’re like, I’M HERE BUT I’M A LITTLE BIT CRAZY!?” Which…yeah, pretty much! 

I told her I was excited just to be there, though, because the trip was a graduation present and a celebration because I got into every grad school to which I applied. She was stunned and congratulated me and I replied that it was really cool because it was a highly competitive program and I didn’t think I would get in at all. She asked what I study and I told her quant psych, and that there’s only four schools in Canada that have that program and most only have a couple spots each per year. Her eyes went huge and she congratulated me again. She said she was sure I’d make the right choice of where to go, and when I said I had just accepted the offer from York, she asked if I meant the one in Toronto and was stoked when I said “yes.” She told me York was an amazing school and I would absolutely love it. She added that she had considered York for undergrad because they had a theater program there, and then had almost gone there for an MBA when she didn’t think acting would work out. I told her my best friend had just gotten her MBA from there and she was like, “See!? It’s an amazing school!” and started talking up Toronto and how much I would love it. That made me pretty jazzed, really. We actually ended up talking much more than I thought before taking two selfies (they’re pretty similar, so I only included my favorite) and I had to run for a photo op unrelated to Wynonna Earp.

Right, so…Here is where the impulsivity of con life kicked in. And let me start this by saying: I did a great job at not blowing a ton of money on impulse buys for stuff. So what I spent here was almost kinda-sorta balanced, maybe? Don’t overthink it. I bought individual photo ops for Dom on Friday and Kat on Sunday.

I met this guy, David, in line for Dom’s photos, and we were chatting the whole time. He was really fun, and we ended up hanging out after. Anyway, it came up that I didn’t have a ticket for Saturday’s show and his son wasn’t going to be using his. He offered to let me buy it off of him and was able to get it for me before the end of the day! Amazing. And as it turned out, Saturday was an incredible day, as well, so I am immensely grateful that I didn’t end up missing it.

Here’s my photo op individual with Dominique. We don’t get a lot of chance to really talk during photo ops, but of course I asked for my usual funny faces, and when we were done, she joked that she’s certain that it was going to turn out really sexy. She was right. 

I changed my Sunday photo ops with Kat to be Saturday photo ops. I had chosen to wear a jacket I found a few months ago that was the same Waverly wore in season 2, and when I walked in, Kat exclaimed, “That looks familiar! Was it on the show?” I replied, “Yeah! Waverly had it.” And she was like, “Oh, Waverly had it! I remember that.”

I brought along fake moustaches to go along with her #SolidarityInStaches posts, and I didn’t even have to ask before she was like, “Can I pick whichever one?” Of course, yes, and she took the pink one. I picked a curly black one and pocketed the rest. She peeled off the sticker back to stick it to her face and gave a hilariously serious pose, while I just held mine up. As I left, she asked if she could keep it, and I said, “Definitely!”

I met up with my friend, Carole, after the live stage interview, and she was about to go see Dom and Kat again and in case no one’s picked up on a pattern yet, I’m weak, so I was like, “Cool, I’ll go have them sign my individual photo ops!” Plus, Kat was selling that photo of her and Bernie that was donating all of the proceeds went to Soi Dog, which is a great organization, so I decided to get an autograph for my best friend, who I got into Earper life a few months ago, who loves Kat.

This time, I saw Kat first, and I told her all about the friend she was signing for, because she recognized immediately that my name was not ‘Catherine.’ I told her I had tried for ages to get my friend into it and lure her in with great representation and storylines and humor… Finally I remembered a very important fact about my friend: her weakness is hot redheads. So I texted her a photo of Nicole and said, “Did I mention there’s a hot redhead lesbian?” and she immediately jumped at it. Kat thought that was hilarious and said my friend sounds awesome.

Since she was still signing, I spoke with her a bit about Pooched and she was so excited that I had watched the trailer and the live stream and enjoyed it. You can really tell how passionate she is about that project, and honestly guys, if you haven’t yet, you definitely should watch. I joked that my friends and I don’t have dogs, but we do treat our cats like that. She asked if my friends had ever thrown a birthday party for their cats and I told her I have one friend who did. I added that we’re honors students, which means we present almost every week in class and she will work her cat into every presentation. Sometimes it’s really creative. That really amused her. 

She also mentioned that she loved the moustache photo we had taken and that she had kept the pink moustache and was planning to take a picture with it later. I have no idea if she really will or if she’s lost it or anything, but I was just happy that she enjoyed it! I told her I had found a box of fake moustaches randomly in my room and she was like, “Do you know why you had them?” and I said, “I just know my mom bought them for me years ago and they were just sitting there until you started your moustache thing!” She said it was meant to be, or something like that.

Dom’s table was completely empty when I was done with Kat, so I hopped right over there. As I was paying for autographs, she noticed immediately the outfit I was wearing and exclaimed, “You’re wearing the Waverly shirt!” I replied that I had thrifted it, too, which she thought was great. As she started to sign, I told her my name is Steph because she hadn’t had it written down yet, and the volunteer asked if it was a P-H or F-F and I said, P-H, which prompted Dom to sing the spelling of my name in a cute little tune of S-T-E-P-H. It was really adorable.

I asked if it was strange coming back to North America after so long in Brazil, and she said it was, especially since she had been in the amazon with tribes and small towns, which was extremely different from anything like this, but that it was nice to be back, too. She talked a little about the importance of travel, and that she would really recommend seeing Brazil, because it’s a whole other viewpoint and understanding of ways of doing things. 

We started talking a bit about Start the Wave, and I asked about a post she made awhile back about being a no-waste traveler, since I find when I travel is when I become the most wasteful. She gave a few suggestions, like bringing your own bamboo utensils, water bottles, cups, etc. Apparently she had a whole other bag with “all that shit” which was a pain in the butt, but ultimately worthwhile. She said that she found you have to tell people right off the bat that you have your own things, so they won’t give you cups or straws or anything that will be wasted because you’re not using them. We also lamented the North American reliance on plastic water bottles a bit when I mentioned that, from how I had grown up, I used to rely almost entirely on bottled water until I switched to a good water bottle, and that my parents still just keep loads of bottled water in their fridge. She said her family does the same thing and it kind of drives her crazy when she opens the door and finds a whole bunch of bottled water. 

I saw that some other people were coming and it was toward the end of the day, too, so I said it was great chatting with her and hopped off. 

Sunday, I arrived extremely early for the Wayhaught panel to get good seats, which meant sitting through hours of 80′s music and the Stranger Things panel which came before, but that was actually pretty fun.

I wasn’t initially planning to ask a question, but I had finally come up with something funny that they’d never heard before, and I was like, screw it, and went up. I was the first person in line on the right side, so I was the second to ask a question. I just realized watching the video back that Dom waved at me and said, “Hi Stephanie,” in her sweet little British voice before I even introduced myself, so apparently she remembered and recognized me!? That’s actually really cool and I’m still trying to recover from it. I was super nervous, but they were really funny with their answers and I loved Dom’s fascination with the show. It was such a great atmosphere in there, and so much fun. It was really a bummer when the whole thing was over.

The next thing on my agenda was about an hour later for the duo photo ops. Side note: right before me, someone was doing a photo op with a lightsaber and Kat was playing with it. She was excited as heck that it made noises when she moved it. 

I walked in and Kat’s eyes locked on my sweater before she noticed my face. My sweater was an oversized York University shirt, so she exclaimed, “Oh my god, are you Canadian!?” And then she looked up and before I could reply, about a split second later, she mentally face-palmed and was like, “I’m so sorry! We had a whole conversation about this! You’re going to York for grad school! I remember!” I told her it was alright, I wasn’t offended or anything, but she insisted she remembered. So that was pretty nice. Although I normally do fun photo ops, I asked if we could just do a group hug, and they were like, “Of course!” and pulled me in for one. 

I’m not even going to pretend like I hadn’t already decided to go back for one last autograph session, but listen. I wasn’t the only one. The girls in line with me also went to every autograph session and they go to every convention with Dom and Kat, so I figured it’s fine. Plus, they were always really happy to see us. I will say, those line ups were really fun. Earpers really know how to make a line a good experience. And Dom’s line was long, so that was a very good thing.

My last meeting with Kat began with another apology for her question during the photo ops. Before I could even put down the picture I wanted her to sign, she looked me right in the eye and said, “I am so sorry, Steph! I do remember we had a whole conversation about York and grad school.” I replied that it’s perfectly okay and that honestly, I didn’t expect her to remember because I know she had met so many people over the weekend that I wouldn’t have been offended if she didn’t. She apologized and insisted again that she absolutely did (and given that she also addressed me by name multiple times without seeing it written down anywhere, I definitely believe her). It was really nice, though, even if it wasn’t necessary!

This was my moment to be a sap, though, and I told her that, although I’m sure she’s heard it a million times, it was really awesome to finally see a lesbian who’s alive and whose whole story doesn’t revolve around coming out and dealing with being gay as if it were the worst thing in the world or some obstacle to overcome or something, because it feels as if that’s all I’ve gotten to see. I told her that I’m only slightly younger than her (and then she asked my birthday, but I’m not sure why) and that it felt like my whole life I hadn’t really gotten to see representation like that. The first time I even heard the word ‘lesbian’ was as a derogatory term when Ellen Degeneres came out, and I was too young to even know what it meant. 

She was so kind and listened to every word, and it was really nice. It also spurred a conversation about Ellen, who she exclaimed her love for (we all know, Kat; we all know). We talked about her a bit and I mentioned that I’m also a big fan of Portia de Rossi and she said she’s really great, too, so I asked if she had ever read her book. She answered that she hadn’t and said she would have to add it to her list. I told her it’s about Portia’s eating disorder and her experience coming out as a lesbian, so if she’s in a dark place or just wants something light and fluffy, maybe skip to the epilogue. She seemed really interested in it, though, and asked the title. When I told her, she replied, “Wow, that’s beautiful! I am definitely going to take your recommendation and check it out!”  We then took the following selfie. I gave her the direction to do wide-eyed, open-mouthed excitement, and she was like, “Of course!” But you judge if that’s the look she actually made. I love them, though.

From there, it was on to Dom’s line, which, like I said was long. I got into it more than an hour before the convention was supposed to finish, and I was still in the overflow line when 5:00 PM passed. Kat still had a number of people in her line, as well, but not quite as many because she was going faster. Both of them insisted on staying for every fan, though, and even when Dom was being rushed and told to go faster with each of us, she made a point of apologizing that she couldn’t spend longer with a lot of people. It was very sweet. When Kat left, she waved to all of us to say goodbye and thank you for coming and that she hopes to see us at future conventions. 

To be honest, since I had already seen her that weekend, had I not already stood in the line for two hours by that point and paid for another autograph/selfie combo while in the line, I would’ve left so Dom could have gone home sooner, but since I had, I just made a point to be fast when I got up there. I pretty much told her that I thought she was spot on about Earpers being an incredible community, like she said in the panel, and thanked her for the weekend. When we had taken the selfie, I asked if I could hug her and she said, “Of course,” so I did, but that was about the extent of the interaction because it was undoubtedly a long day for her and I didn’t want to make it longer. 

That’s where my weekend experience ended with them, and honestly, you guys, it was really so awesome. I can’t quite tell you how awesome it was, or how energized I felt leaving. Earpers are amazing. Kat and Dom are incredible.I just love this whole fandom so much I could squeeze you all! But I’m done rambling for now.