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As @utterwonderfulnonsense and I were driving home from dinner last night, I was playing Pokemon Go on both our phones. We passed a gym that was undeclared; only a few feet away, it turned blue (our color). I told her and--being a Californian--she pulled a U-turn. We went into the parking lot, put in a couple of 'mons, and then pulled back out onto the road.

Immediately, a cop pulled us over. He was a younger guy who said he saw us do the U-turn and then we popped out "right in front of me" and continued on our way. He asked for the reason of the U-turn and if we "saw something." 

@utterwonderfulnonsense, being a very honest person, said that we were playing Pokemon Go. The cop kind of laughed, gave us back our insurance and registration, ran her license, then let us go with a warning.

Me to her, afterwards: "You realize, of course, that the reason he saw us do the U-turn and pop out in front of him was because he was sitting next to that gym, and is likely the person who turned it blue." 

Her: "MY GOD."
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@morgandawn has an interesting and alarming post about YouTube’s bullshit treatment of its users—some of whom are getting takedown notices for their own, original material.  
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I hate to be one of those negative nellies, but my girlfriend is watching Voltron and...it's so dumb, guys. Just, like, epically dumb.
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Today I cooked and froze meat marinara sauce, cooked and fridged beef and vegetable curry, cooked and ate mushroom chicken risotto, baked banana bread, baked two batches of chocolate chip cookies, got an hour of exercise, picked up yarn for @utterwonderfulnonsense, did four loads of laundry, and finished sound-balancing episode 12 of my podcast.

TREMBLE BEFORE ME, MORTALS.
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Today, in my local Kroger's, I passed by the personal hygiene aisle and saw a male-presenting person in slouchy beanie and flannel standing in front of the yeast infection creams and having a murmured conference with someone on his phone about which one to buy.
  1. Good boyfriend/male friend/male relative/whatever. I felt the urge to pat him on the back but didn't want to interrupt his VERY important mission.
  2. I couldn't help but imagine the person on the other end of that call, lying in bed with their legs spread and their cooch aflame, screaming, "JUST BUY ONE ANY ONE."

Shuri&Bucky

Dec. 6th, 2018 06:01 pm
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I’m here for Bucky and Shuri developing a friendship. Shuri makes him a new arm and teaches him how to use the Wakandan version of Snapchat so that Bucky can make his little sand-avatar appear out of Steve’s phone and scare the crap out of him. Bucky only ever feels safe in Wakanda, since it’s one of the few places in the world that HYDRA didn’t infiltrate. Bucky takes Shuri to New York and after she gets over the horror of trash in the street and the fucking rats she listens to Bucky talk at great length and with great affection about the trash in the street and the fucking rats. Nakia lurks in the background–she’s a fucking spy, she knows all about the Winter Soldier–but even she eventually has to admit that Bucky seems pretty committed to protecting Shuri at all costs.

He slips up once and calls her “Becca” then stares into space for a few seconds. When Shuri nudges him, he mumbles, “I had a little sister. I just remembered her.”

Shuri smiles and takes his hand. “I’m sure you would take your little sister to Disneyland, yes?”

(She sends T’Challa a Sandchat photo of her in Mickey Mouse ears and a smug expression. T’Challa’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Nakia, I’m going to buy Disneyland.” “T’Challa, no.” “T’Challa yes.”)

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I got inspired this morning at the breakfast table and have written...1454 words today so far? I'm doing terrible, terrible things to John Silver at the moment, but he kind of deserves them, no lie. It'll be good for him in the end.
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All of Hozier’s songs are about how he’s a revenant fueled only by the power of a woman. Meanwhile all of Florence’s songs are about being a powerful witch. What I’m saying is, I’m pretty sure Florence Welch summoned Hozier from a peat bog. In this essay I will
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In honor of my girlfriend discovering that Toby Stephens is the son of Dame Maggie Smith, I want James Flint, prefect of Ravenclaw. He started going by Flint because he didn’t want people to know that his mum teaches at the school; McGonagall would be more offended if it didn’t help her avoid accusations of favoritism.

As prefect, Flint is the worst. The absolute worst. No one gets away with anything. That is, until a curly-haired 11-year-old named Sol–”John!” the lad interrupts brightly, “John Silver!”–starts his first year and, in one afternoon, manages to reroute one of the moving staircases out a window, convince Peeves to be his best friend forever, and start a small fire in the Potions dungeon.

Flint would recommend him for expulsion were it not for the way the lad goes uncharacteristically silent whenever anyone mentions going home for the holidays, or the fact that Flint caught Domnhall O’Malley casting a silence spell on the Ravenclaw dormitory just before curfew. “‘E just keeps us up if we don’t,” Domnhall protests grumpily. “What wit’ the screamin’ at night and all.”

Which is how James Flint finds himself standing on Platform 9 and ¾, holding a limp John Silver in his arms. The boy had managed to hold back his tears until they were half the way to London; then his nerve had broken and he’d begged to go back to Hogwarts, sobbed and clutched and pleaded himself insensible and exhausted. Now his swollen eyes and still-wet nose are pressed against James’ neck, as if he can hide there from the world to which they’ve returned.

Flint waits until all the other families have reunited and moved off, braced against the possibility that someone might actually step forward to try and take John from him—try being the operative word, because by Merlin’s beard, he’ll land himself in Azkhaban if they want to have a go.

Eventually, Mum appears. They’ve agreed, with the formality to which their important family discussions are accustomed, to limit their familiarity in front of the students or their families. She takes the floo system separate from the train and collects him after everyone else has already departed.

Now she walks up and gives the sleeping boy in Flint’s arms a pointed, if not entirely surprised, look.

“John’s coming home with us,” James announces with all the calm certainty of a sixteen-year-old boy willing to bluff his way through this if he musts.

Mum’s mouth twitches slightly, but she betrays no other reaction. Stepping aside she says, “Well, come along, then.”

Read more... )
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I want fic in which Sam Wilson gets stop-and-frisked while hanging with Steve incognito in NY and Steve LOSES HIS MIND at the cops. Followed by a viral video of Steve getting tasered and shouting about racial profiling, Constitutional rights, and freedom in between zaps.
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Guys, guys, what if Bucky, post-CATWS, goes on this cold, methodical elimination tour of HYDRA. He’s totally focused on the mission; he knows that he’s Bucky Barnes but he’s not especially interested in knowing more. That’s not who he is. He kills people. That’s what he does.

When Steve and Sam start following him, he’s annoyed at first but eventually acknowledges that they could be useful to his mission and deigns to work with them. Steve is immediately all :DDD in ways that make Bucky uncomfortable.

He only gets MORE uncomfortable when Steve starts wearing nothing but little motel towels out of the shower and finds excuses to take his shirt off at random. (In the background, Sam discreetly books them two motel rooms while typing OMFG FML to Natasha.) He starts giving Bucky pants feelings again and Bucky-bot does not compute, does not know what to do

and AND AND



EXCEPT PUT IN STEVE’S MUSCLY CALF, COVERED WITH HIS STAR-SPANGLED MAN TIGHTS, AND BUCKY STANDING IN THE BACKGROUND STARING WITH, LIKE, A ROCKET LAUNCHER DANGLING FROM ONE HAND.

“M-Mr. Rogers, you’re trying to seduce me.”
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So I was thinking more about this and that developed into this whole thing that I spent the day unraveling. (Cut for shades of domestic violence and inadvisable sexual behavior.)

Bucky has been brought in from the cold and deprogrammed, mostly. Maybe 90% deprogrammed. The remaining 10% is liable to lunge for Steve’s throat without any warning–and even the 90% is primarily comprised of PTSD and raw nerves.

It’s a good thing that Steve’s got that healing factor, is the point.

Steve, he bears it up pretty well. Probably a lot better than he should. It makes Bucky want to be a better friend–or at least one that doesn’t punch Steve or attempt to strangle him at least twice a week–and this is why he hates Sam Wilson. Perfect fucking Sam Wilson, who apparently helped Steve take on a rogue spy organization on the basis of two conversations and a cup of coffee, who keeps dropping by with albums and homemade cupcakes and therapy books. Bucky hates Sam Wilson, even if the cupcakes are really fucking good and the books are actually very helpful.

He’s trying to be a good friend to Steve, though, so he limits himself to settling in the furthest corner of whatever room Sam and Steve are in and giving Sam what Stark has dubbed “the Murdereyes.” The effect is somewhat muted by the cupcake in his hand that rapidly disappears.

Steve seems more bothered by the Murdereyes than Sam; he clearly wants the two of them to get along. That’s a bridge too far, though: Bucky doesn’t remember much, but he knows that he was here first, dammit, and that counts for something, he doesn’t care that Sam Wilson farts rainbows. (Steve is all he has.) Sam visits usually result in Bucky stomping off to his room, slamming the door, in order to lie in bed feeling sorry for himself and maybe having a panic attack halfway through the book he takes with him. He’s pretty sure no one hears him. (He’s getting better. That’s what they say. He doesn’t want to give Steve any reason to doubt that.)

This goes on for a while, though eventually Sam’s kindness wears down even the Murdereyes and he winds up teaching Bucky how to make cupcakes. (Bucky asks. Steve likes the cupcakes, and Bucky broke Steve’s nose last night. He thinks maybe he doesn’t have very many more chances to get this right.) Bucky doesn’t like that Sam has taken that place next to Steve but his therapist has been nudging him to ask for help when he needs it, and Sam is good at being friends with people. It’s not really his fault that one of those people happens to be Steve.

The Murdereyes turns into Bucky following Sam around everywhere, either openly or covertly. He needs to learn how to be a good friend again. Steve has been looking tired, worn down, so Bucky tries to spend a little more time with Sam, who doesn’t have a healing factor and that means Bucky has to be twice as careful with the 10%. It’s exhausting and his secret panic attacks swell in size and number but he’s being a good friend. Or, well, he’s getting better at it.

Things appear to even out enough that Sam and Steve even decide to leave Bucky on his own one night. Bucky knows it’s a test, that he’s supposed to be okay on his own. He would be, he totally would, but he wants to see Sam be Steve’s friend when they don’t know that Bucky’s around. So he follows them, watching as Sam leads Steve with one hand on the small of his back into a nice restaurant and they sit drinking wine and eating and laughing. Steve looks more relaxed than he has since Bucky came to live with him and Bucky’s stomach twists.

Then they’re leaving the restaurant for a long walk down to the park, Bucky trailing carefully behind. This is one arena in which he still feels a smug superiority to Sam: he has no idea that Bucky is here, that Bucky’s right at Steve’s back.

That Bucky is right there when Sam leans in and gently, carefully kisses Steve.

Bucky’s brain shorts out the way it used to when someone asked him how he felt about something. He watches, blank and numb, as Steve leans and kisses back, the sweet little smile on his lips visible even where they’re pressed against Sam’s. Only when they part does he jerk back to life, slipping away and sprinting flat out for home.

Once there Bucky paces his bedroom, his mind racing. Sam’s queer! Steve is…Steve’s…he kissed back. Steve is queer? Why didn’t he–? Bucky’s pretty sure that Steve never, back then, that he hadn’t been–or maybe he had and he’d just never told Bucky about it.

The thought makes Bucky scowl and kick over the stack of clean clothes that Steve carefully placed on the chest at the foot of Bucky’s bed. That’s a low-down, mean thing to do, hiding a thing like that. Bucky might be a lousy friend now, but he knows that once they’d been closer than brothers. How could Steve have hidden that from him? Had he been sneaking around with someone the whole time that he and Bucky had been living together? Had he kissed some other person, let them know that part of him, while Bucky was none the wiser?

Dammit, they were supposed to be best friends, and Steve had never even asked Bucky if he wanted to be queer together! Well, Bucky was going to change that: he was gonna get Steve to be queer with him or die trying.

He’s supposed to ask for help when he doesn’t know what to do, but he can’t ask Steve or Sam for obvious reasons. Sam can no longer be trusted. Bucky tries asking Dr. Banner how two men have sex during a checkup; Dr. Banner leaves half-convinced that Bucky was hitting on him. Bucky reluctantly asks Stark while getting a new synthetic skin for his arm; Stark stares, mumbles “too many—too many things to say, can’t pick,” followed by “you could just sign up for grindr,” then “oh god no, no, that’s a terrible idea.”

So of course Bucky joins grindr.

It actually goes a lot better than you’d expect. There’s a certain simplicity to the encounters he has: they’re a bit like missions in which Bucky tracks little dots on his phone through the city, except instead of murder the objective is orgasms. The mechanics are tricky at first but HYDRA did something to his brain that heightened his muscle memory and pretty soon Bucky is sucking cock like a champ. Not as good as Sam fucking Wilson, if the sounds that Steve makes while Bucky lurks outside Sam’s bedroom window are any indication. But Bucky is nothing if not dedicated. He’s going to be the best goddamned secret queer in the goddamned world, he thinks viciously as he joins four dots in an open-air orgy. He studies every angle, compiles the techniques of each guy sucking and fucking his body, sucks and fucks when it’s his turn and catalogues success in the amount of semen stuck in his hair at the end of the night.

The longer Steve spends out at night (at Sam’s, with Sam), the longer Bucky spends out, too. If the way they touch him, these anonymous men who barely speak to him, reminds Bucky of anything, he doesn’t let himself think about it for long.

Eventually, of course, Bucky comes back from therapy one morning to find Steve and Sam at the kitchen table wearing identical expressions of concern. The phone bill, Steve explains. Overage charges. He’d gone to Sam for help understanding it all and Sam, well, perfect Sam fucking Wilson had understood all too well.

Things go downhill fast, with Sam trying to gently talk about risk-taking behavior and Steve asking with this wounded expression why Bucky would go around having empty sex?

“What,” Bucky snaps, “like you two don’t?”

Sam immediately looks cautious, but Steve flushes and says, “That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re in love!”

And Bucky, Bucky shuts his mouth and feels something in him split right down the middle. Because that’s what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? He hadn’t realized it until just now, hadn’t even known the words, but he’d wanted for Steve to be in love with him. Steve is Bucky’s entire world and if that’s not in love then Bucky doesn’t know what is.

But Steve isn’t in love with him at all. Suddenly all the practice that Bucky had put himself through, endured, seems sick and stupid and pathetic.

It must show in his face because Sam says, “shit” and Steve starts to get up, his own expression stricken. Bucky runs for it, going out a window.

He’s not dumb enough to run again, so instead he goes to Stark Tower and hides as best he can. It’s a big tower.

Blah blah blah AND THEN THEY TRACK HIM DOWN AND SAM TALKS TO BUCKY ABOUT ASEXUALITY AND STEVE GIVES BUCKY SMILING KISSES AND THERE ARE CUDDLES AND LOVE.
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(CAVEAT: I have not been a massage therapist for very long. This is literally just me spitballin’–at the same time, this was a really good exercise for me! I like using the assessment part of my brain.)

It’s been tossed around in fandom that Bucky’s muscles have to be pretty f-ed up from having a cybernetic, metal arm grafted onto one side of his body. From the perspective of a massage therapist, that’s 100% accurate–but the issues don’t stop there. At the very least he’s got functional scoliosis and massive compensatory muscle strain, enough adhesions to make Jesus weep, and tons of somato-emotional holding points.

First, a couple notes: I’m including adhesions on the list because I don’t think the serum would prevent these from happening, at least not entirely. Adhesions happen when connective tissue–the single most prevalent tissue in the human body that wraps everything from muscles to bones to organs to nerves–becomes damaged. Connective tissue (CT) consists of water, cells, and most importantly protein fibers; just like the fibers of yarn, they can become tangled in surrounding structures. That’s really what they’re supposed to do, in order to anchor things and quite literally hold us together. Unfortunately, damage resulting from injury, surgery, infection, inflammation, overuse, or old age can cause the fibers to tangle in the wrong ways. Thus, adhesions form (scar tissue being the most common form). Now, I don’t think the serum would stop these from happening, as they’re literally part of the body attempting to repair itself. Perhaps Erskine’s version would, but I don’t see HYDRA giving much of a damn how their super-soldier healed so long as he could still function. Any adhesions that got bad enough to impede his movements, they could simply fix with surgery or the HYDRA equivalent of the Graston technique.

What’s the Graston technique, you wonder?



I’m so glad you asked! It’s the process of taking the above tools and scraping the connective tissue fibers into lying the way they’re supposed to, as well as breaking up adhesions. It is…okay, I’ve never had it done personally but I am given to understand that it is incredibly painful.

(Now think about the fact that Bucky associates that with physical therapy and people who say they’re going to treat his muscles.)

Second, obviously the arm itself is very heavy. In multiple comic book sources, Bucky Barnes is listed as being 5'9" (175cm) and 260lbs (118kg). Sebastian Stan is slightly taller at 5'11" (180 cm), but even then a 5'11" man with a medium frame is about 154-166lbs (70-74kg). From that we can extrapolate that the arm is at least 50lbs (23kg).

Whatever the exact measurements, the arm is heavy enough that I would bet normal bones and muscles couldn’t support it. Judging from where skin meets metal in the picture below, I’d say that the bones of Bucky’s entire shoulder girdle have had the metal arm grafted onto them. Note how the metal curves inward to follow the collarbone? Yeah, either it’s attached to the bone or the bone had been replaced. I wish we had a shot from the back so I could see the metal’s interactions with the shoulderblade but I’m going to take a wild guess and say that the metal extends at least to the spine of the scapula–that ridge of bone you can feel when you put a hand over your shoulder–and possibly further down onto the fossa.

I’ve also seen it banded about in fandom that the muscles would have been replaced as well–but one, there is a shitton of muscles attached to the arm, and I don’t think even a super-soldier could survive having them all replaced, and two, the whole point of serum-strong muscles is that they can be stronger than regular human muscles. (Also, if you’re using this post as reference for healing massage fics, there wouldn’t be much point in Steve rubbing synthetic muscles.)



From the brief image of a bone saw cutting off the arm, seen below, I would guess that part of the upper humerus (the bone of the upper arm) is still in place and that, too, has had metal grafted onto it. I know a lot of writers (myself included) have grabbed onto the idea of a metal ball-and-socket joint, but from a massage therapist POV, I find that less plausible (as plausible as a metal-armed brainwashed assassin can ever be). I find it far more plausible, from a ‘not-having-to-replace-ALL-the-muscles’ POV, that Zola and the other scientists anchored the metal arm on the stub of humerus that Bucky had left, pumped him full of serum, and expected his body to be able to carry that weight.



Obviously the muscles of the arm itself and some of the shoulder are gone and replaced by the metal arm: deltoid, biceps brachii, triceps, all of the forearm and hand. I would also guess, again without seeing the back, that all of the rotator cuff muscles and tendons are gone.

However, I think that for the most part, Bucky still has his actual muscles and his actual bones, with some metal grafted onto them.

Anyway. On to the analysis. Here are the physical issues that I think Bucky would have.

1. Functional scoliosis of the thoracic vertebrae, with accompanying compensatory patterns. Pick up something really heavy using only one arm–or really, don’t. Please.

Having 50 extra pounds on one side would do horrible, horrible things to your body. For one thing it would automatically create a curve in your spine. In Bucky’s case, that’d be a sharp curve to the left in the thoracic (ribcage) vertebrae. Obviously he isn’t walking around with his left shoulder sharply dropped; that’s where compensatory structures come into play. “Functional scoliotic cases are frequently accompanied by other signs of faulty and relaxed posture, such as rounded shoulders, prominent abdomen, and flat feet.” (Massage and Bodywork Magazine, Dalton, 2003, pg 69.) Or, if you need a visual explanation:





A bit of brilliant non-acting acting on the part of Sebastian Stan. That is exactly how someone dealing with sharp lateral curvature of the spine would stand in order to offset that weight. Try picking up an object in one arm and then swinging it around to the front. It’s a lot easier to hold, isn’t it? That’s because the weight is closer to your midline instead of wayyy out to the side.

Unfortunately that creates a whole host of compensatory problems. Slumped shoulders equals tight pectorals, tight front of the the neck, decreased functionality of the lungs, stretched and strained erector spinae group (those muscles that run up and down on either side of the spine, from pelvis to neck), strained rhomboids between the shoulderblades, and strained back of the neck muscles.

2. Adhesions, adhesions, adhesions. As I mentioned above, adhesions form following injury, surgery, infection, inflammation, overuse, or old age. Obviously Bucky’s experienced many of the above in his time with HYDRA, especially the first two.

Let’s talk ribs. Between each rib is a pair of muscles called the intercostals. When ribs get cracked or broken or just overused (as in excessive coughing–I have actually coughed so much and so hard during one terrible cold that I cracked a rib), the intercostal muscles go rigid in order to stabilize the bone. Then, unless they get a hot pack or some massage, they stay that way. I’m guessing that HYDRA’s brainwashing regimen involved beatings. Anywhere they hit him could potentially form adhesions, but ribs are especially prone to them and especially difficult to get out. I worked on an ex-Navy SEAL recently who’d taken a lot of falls and beatings over his period of service; his ribs were a mess.

Restricted ribs can make it difficult to breathe. Combine that with the compressed lungs listed above due to postural distortion and I doubt that Bucky Barnes has taken a full, healthy breath in years. The effects of that cannot be overstated: being unable to take a full breath keeps the body in a state of fight-or-flight, stress, and fear. I’m guessing that suited HYDRA just fine.

Other places in Bucky’s body that I would expect to find adhesions: around his left shoulder and neck due to multiple surgeries, in his rhomboids due to overuse from trying to stabilize the weight of the shoulder and his postural dysfunction, and along his iliotibial band in his thighs. All of which would only have been treated by HYDRA, painfully, if the adhesions impeded his function.

Ways that adhesions can be treated in non-painful ways: heat, gentle pressure, pin-and-stretch strokes where you press the fingers of one hand into the center of the adhesion then use the other fingertips to push outward from that location, and light myofascial release techniques like skin-rolling, where you take a pinch of skin and kind of move up and down the skin, like a wave moving over an ocean.

It’s a little burny but can be very therapeutic. Much less painful than Graston.

3. Somato-emotional holding points. It was thought for a very long time that the hippocampus was the site where all long-term memory is stored. However, in the past five years its been discovered that long-term memory storage actually happens in the motor cortical units, which were previously thought to be the simple nuts-and-bolts fibers in the brain that control our somatic muscle response (read: voluntary, or user-controlled, as opposed to involuntary actions like stomach churning or peristalsis of the intestines). The hippocampus is more like a relay station that communicates with the motor cortical units.

This confirms something that massage therapists have known for years: the body remembers, even when the mind does not. The very fibers that control our muscles also store our long-term memories: think for a second about the implications of that! I’ve seen the results myself. On more than one occasion, I’ve been massaging a client’s muscles when they’ve suddenly remembered something associated with that part of the body. I’m not talking about simply remembering these things through a glass darkly, either, I’m talking about: the client started giggling uncontrollably because she remembered going down a slide as a child and hurting that muscle in her neck. That memory was associated with that part of the body that I was touching. Often the memories stored this way are major traumas to the body, even if the emotion that bubbles up isn’t one associated with fear or pain. For my client, she remembered having fun as a kid. Yes, she was hurt in the process and her body stored that memory in a big knot on the side of her neck; but overall the emotion released was one of childish glee.

Now consider the fact that Bucky’s big flashback to his arm being forcibly replaced without his consent happens when his arm is being worked on by techs.

I’ll bet that Bucky has memories stored throughout his body, places that HYDRA didn’t dare touch because they wanted their weapon to function, but Bucky couldn’t get to because they fried the hippocampus of his brain.

That means that every time someone touches him, every time a muscle is stimulated in a way he doesn’t expect, there’s a distinct chance that a memory is going to surface. A somato-emotional release that he has no way of predicting.

WHAT DO??

Assuming that we’re talking about Bucky being massaged by a layman instead of a professional (although I would strongly recommend that, whensoever Bucky could tolerate having a stranger touch him):

1. Light Swedish massage and myofascial release. According to many different studies, massage is very helpful in treating PTSD. Part of the disorder is the inability to turn off the sympathetic nervous system–the 'fight-or-flight’ response–and switch to the parasympathetic nervous system–the 'rest-and-relax’ response.The goal here would be relax the body with light pressure and gentle strokes, instead of digging into any hard knots. Basically you want to avoid anything that could possibly cause pain.

2. Essential oils. These have also proven effective at helping to calm the mind and body both. Bear in mind, I’m not, repeat, not talking about synthetic fragrances that you might find in a department store. These have all sorts of chemicals in them that try to recreate the smell of essential oils at a lower price. The oils most likely to help Bucky would be: lavendar (anti-anxiety), clary sage (anti-depressant), sandalwood, vanilla, and ylang ylang (all treat both anxiety and depression), or a mix of all of the above. (Mixing essential oils is its own art, dealing with base, middle, and top notes.) Probably the easiest way for a layman to use essential oils would be a couple of drops in a hot bath or a couple of drops in grapeseed oil to rub on the skin.

3. Once Bucky’s parasympathetic nervous system was functioning again, evinced by regular sleep patterns and smoother digestion, he might be ready to work on deeper issues. The first thing I’d want to work on would be those ribs, followed by all muscles in the neck. Any deeper work would need to be very much Bucky-led: constantly checking in to make sure that he wasn’t experiencing any negative emotions associated with the areas being worked on. If he could tolerate deeper massage work, it might actually help him regain his memory, as those motor cortical units get stimulated in the brain and in turn trigger the memories associated with that area of the body.

SO. That’s what I got! If anybody else has something to add, feel free to message me!
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Hey remember the time that John “I know fuckall about sailing” Silver was like “Let’s parallel park a ship” and Captain James Flint was so high on Silver’s dick that he was like, “:))) Sure babe, sounds great. :)))))))))”
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Flint while climbing into Thomas Hamilton's arms: I'm never letting go of this man ever again you will not take him from me
the guard watching them: WHERE ARE ALL OF THOSE KNIVES COMING FROM
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C&P from a Twitter/email convo with @theroseandthebeast​, on the subject of Black Sails ABO (edited for clarity of goddamn vision):

theroseandthebeast: also I was 100% thinking about a Black Sails a/b/o/ fic this morning on the train. for reasons.

Me: ……..*slides over to you* Accidental bonding, perhaps?

therose: *leans in* I am LISTENING

Me: Silver the omega doin’ his thing, being a manipulative little shit, has no idea how fucking STARVED alpha!Flint is.

It’s been ten goddamned years since Flint lost his bond mate. He’s gotten by with beta!Miranda, but he’s more than a little rut crazy. The crew whispers that he uses his rut to fuel his murderface, and they’re not totally wrong.

Then Silver’s first heat of their acquaintance hits rather conveniently after they take the Spanish warship. He’s all set to use it to make nice with the crew BUT THEN….

therose: Flint is so angry and turned on he can’t see straight. Silver thinks he’s going to kill him, but he’s only like. one-fourth right.

Me: But then someone says something about how the captain never ruts, and he figures it’s their mutual interest for the two of them to GET IT ON, so Flint will be a little less stabby all the time and Silver will have ingratiated himself to the crew by taking one (or two) for the team.

And they both need some stress relief! except then Flint knots him and it’s weirdly intense and Flint keeps lingering over the side of his neck.

Silver: “I have made a terrible mistake.”

therose: i think one of the things I love about a/b/o (and [soul] bonds and WHATEVER) is like. how do you deal with the universe saying THIS ONE

Silver is Not Pleased that its anyone – probably he’s run from people and situations before, but he’s stuck in this one b/c GOLD

Me: Yeah. And oh how man, what if he panics and fucks someone else? To prove that he’s not Flint’s, both to himself and to someone else in order to win their trust, and secure his share of the gold??

Max? Anne Bonny? Oh god, Charles Vane???

therose: ACK. Max and Anne are way too dysfunctional at that moment so U KNOW WHAT yeah Vane will do

Me: *kicks feet* SO. Post Charlestown, post-Miranda, post-reveal, post-LEG, they are totally broken and fucked up. In the doldrums they’re all too weak to have any hormone reactions, but then, inconvenience! Silver goes into heat in the Maroon camp.

therose: *chinhands* Flint can bide his time, when it calls for it and the wind is southerly, buuuuut he might lose his cool a little

Me: Silver tries to hold out at first because he doesn’t think anyone will want a one-legged wretch. And Madi is like, you want drugs? My knot? WHICH IS HELLA APPEALING, but. But. Flint. And… FOR FUCKS SAKE. He wants FLINT with him.

“I HAVE MADE SO MANY TERRIBLE DECISIONS,” he confides in Madi.

“Sounds like it,” she says and throws them in a heat hut.

By the time Flint actually gets to the hut, Silver is covered in sweat. He’s skinny from the doldrums and he’s taken off the prosthesis. He’d considered trying to be seductive but then thought fuck it, might as well go full horror show here.

And at first Flint is like, no. nope. not falling for this again. And Silver is like, YOUR DISTRUST IS NOTED AND UNDERSTANDABLE PLS DICK ME.

therose: Silver: lOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE YOU PRICK

Me: They’re freaking out at each other from opposite ends of the hut, Silver on the bed mat and Flint just inside the door.

Flint: “You’ve shown yourself perfectly capable of finding whatever heat partner you want, why is this any different?”

Outside the hut, the Walrus crew and the Maroons are like: “oooooooooo boy.”

therose: me, crying, shoveling popcorn in my mouth: this is my new favorite story

Me: And Silver is like, cry-yelling because fuck you, it was you in my head. Vane might’ve had my body but he was you in my head and that is NOT supposed to happen! I’m not welcome in your head, fine, you’re in mine. You won, you beat me, PLS WITH THE DICKING.

therose: me, dying Flint, also dying

Me: I haven’t quite finished the series yet but I’m
partially spoiled for what happens at the very end re:
unburying their gays. SO LET’S TALK ABOUT JOHN SILVER
FINDING OUT THAT HIS ALPHA’S ORIGINAL BONDMATE IS STILL
ALIVE, AND HE DECIDES TO SEND FLINT TO HIM, BECAUSE HE IS
SCARED OF BEING LOVED AND THINKS FLINT WOULD BE HAPPIER WITH
THOMAS.

“Our people are different in many ways,” Madi says, low but
perfectly audible over the crash of waves far below them.
“But I do not think we are so different that you could
tell me the mark on your neck means nothing to
you.”

Silvergrips his crutch, grits his teeth, tightens his resolve even
as the ship’s sails dip over the horizon. “It was
never mine.”

(At some point they were in bed together, on the tail end of
something dark and awful, and Flint murmured
“Thomas” in his sleep so sweetly that Silver
thought he could feel his own heart shrivel inside of him.)

therose: silver you’re the worst the worst the wooooooorst let flint love you

Me: Yes, we agree that he’s the worst, now let’s talk about Madi deciding, fuck it, she wants that treasure. She’s made contact with Maroon camps on Jamaica: they’ve managed to maintain control over most of the island but the British are sending more troops and the balance of power is shifting. They need the kind of help that a large cache of treasure could buy them, in bribes and supplies.

So she tracks Flint and Thomas down, because fuck if she’s going to chase some stupid, scribbled-down treasure map. Flint sent one letter, only one, to Silver after Silver sent him away; Silver has never opened it. Madi steals it and reads just enough of it to know that he will still be where Silver sent him. That he has, horribly, vowed to be there should Silver ever want to find him.

Once she follows that path herself, Madi is both deeply unsurprised and deeply pleased to find a blossoming community of England’s refuse: the inconvenient bastards and cast-off wives, those who had engaged in infertile relationships, the mad and the “mad.” The plantation is no more a prison than a refuge, its original owner still present but quite obviously humbled and properly relieved not to have it any worse than he does.

She almost feels bad for disrupting their peace, but then Flint–his hair grown longer than she has ever seen it and soft without the salt air–sees her and his shoulders go rigid, his eyes searching at her sides, behind her, the cart, everywhere.

She is a little surprised by Thomas Hamilton. First, because he is an Alpha, standing right at Flint’s shoulder with calm assurance and absolutely no shame; second, that he uses that calm assurance to turn to Flint and say, “Of course we’ll help.”

therose: SCRREEEEEEEAM

Me: Can you imaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagine what Thomas Hamilton, Alpha, has to say to John Silver the first time they meet? Long John Silver, most feared pirate on the high seas, and he is fucking FROZEN in place while this impossibly tall, lean man with patrician features looks him up and down.

“So,” Hamilton says brightly. “Madi says you’re going to help us find the cache. We’d better be off, I’m given to understand that we’re racing quite a number of your former crewmen.”

“What? The fuck I am.” Once he’d gotten over the shock, joy, and horror of seeing Flint again, Silver had already started making plans to flee Nassau. For Florida, for France, for the bottom of the fucking ocean if it comes to that.

Hamilton’s eyes flash and his voice drops into the kind of growl that makes the hair on the back of Silver’s neck stand up. “Oh you will. Or I’ll show James the letter that you wrote back to him but never sent.”

For a moment Silver can’t place the subject–but then he is gripped with a new horror. Madi must have found that one, too, when she stole the first. The betrayal wounds, but he doesn’t have time to even feel the pain. His hand drops to the knife at his belt.

Hamilton may once have been the pampered son of an earl, but the intervening years obviously told him when someone is seconds away from killing him. He says carefully, “I don’t have it on me. It’s safe, somewhere that James will eventually find it, should anything happen to Madi or myself. Now, let’s discuss your crew.”

(What Silver doesn’t know is that Madi wasn’t the one who showed Thomas the letter. It came to his hands from James, to whom Madi had given it over at once upon her arrival in Savannah, along with her opinion that if something or someone did not intervene soon, John Silver was likely to drink himself to death by the end of the year. The letter was not any prettier than the hand that had written it; despite his black curls, blue eyes, and omega-sweet scent, Long John Silver is not a pretty man. But it was as heartfelt as it was anguished, enough that Thomas might believe that the feelings he saw in James’ eyes were mirrored deep inside the blackened, blood-soaked heart of the most infamous pirate yet living.

Deep, deep inside. James and Madi are out to dig up buried treasure; Thomas Hamilton is, too, and God help the man who gets in his way.)
stele3: (Default)
“We were able to kind of strangely name something you didn’t think you were looking for a name for. Which is the space between them and not, you know, specifically who did what to Silver when he was a kid.”

“When I watch it the clear implication is that [Silver’s past] is awful. Which I think if the story is going out of its way to suggest it’s unspeakable, considering the things we have spoken about, I as an audience am willing to take its word for it I guess is a way of putting it, that if you are invested in that character and you understand where all of the norms are set for the show, for someone to say, ‘I can’t say it out loud’, suggests that it really is awful. […] [it] was so terrible that it broke his ability to exist within a story.”

“It was not credible that [Silver] didn’t have a story. There’s a hint that wherever he comes from is pretty dark. It felt right to not put words to it. It was so awful, it was something he couldn’t speak about. That that’s all you need to know.”

— Johnathan E. Steinberg, Co-Creator of Black Sails on Silver’s traumatic past
stele3: (Default)
"It’s interesting because of all people, Silver – who has for the whole show been so adept at understanding and reading other people – he’s the one who cannot talk about himself. Of all of the main characters – and each one has a different way of recounting their back-stories – Silver is the only one who cannot go there, he is the only one who cannot speak of what has happened to him.

Well, I think it suggests horror from another direction. Whatever happened to Silver was so terrible that it essentially broke his ability to exist within his own story. I think there is something that is fundamentally therapeutic about existing in a story. It’s normal; it’s a part of the human condition. When you find your place in a narrative, you almost necessarily feel like you make sense. And so I think whatever it was that happened to him that made him incapable of reconciling that – that is his trauma. His backstory was that he was removed from his own story. And his curse is that he is stuck in someone else’s story that he never really wanted to be in, but now he can’t get out of."

— Jon Steinberg, on John Silver for Fathoms Deep
stele3: (Default)
You know, considering that Jessica Kennedy—the actress who plays Max—is Jewish, I would love to see some Jewish!Silver headcanons in which they Recognize each other. She saw his dick in the Blackbeard scene, right? Maybe he comes back from the sea at some point and finds Max in a hut on the beach, one that would not raise eyebrows among the fuck tents but serves a very different purpose. He brings only a lemon as payment, retrieved from a Spanish ship; Max purses her lips at its bruised state but says nothing, and Silver lies down on the ground like he never wants to get up again. He can see the stars above him through the palm tree leaves laid across the roof of the tent. Max sings under her breath, words that she barely remembers, but there is no one to judge her here except Silver and G-d, who both refrain from comment.
stele3: (Default)
So sometimes I like to tell myself stories in my head, stories that I don’t have the time or the wherewithal to write down but that I return to periodically to “write” a little more of the story. Between the Tether Series, a Captain America commission (@smilesguaranteed, I promise I’m working on it! It’s about 10k words right now), and my D&D podcast I really do not have time to write this story out all the way. Please note that ahead of time and don’t ask me to. If you really want to read Black Sails content from me, go read the Tether Series.

However. I told myself this story and then I told @completeutterwonderfulnonsense and she said I should at least post the outline, so. She’s the boss.

Black Sails AU: Abigail Ashe Fixes (Almost) Everything

Gap between 2x10 and 3x01: Following the events at Charlestown, Abigail Ashe is her father’s only heir; she has his fortune but also carries the weight of his sins. She cannot forget Lady Hamilton, who showed her such kindness and was shot dead, unarmed, in her father’s house. There is more to this story, hints of which she heard in muffled shouts: this city, purchased with our misery…

Abigail Ashe goes looking for the truth.

What she finds are letters, exchanged between Peter Ashe and Aflred Hamilton, which were kept by her father as insurance, in which Earl Hamilton confessed every part of the plot against his own son. The crown itself was involved. Then, letters between her father and a man named Oglethorpe, detailing the transference of Thomas Hamilton from Bedlam to the plantation.

3x01: While Flint is busy marauding the coast, Jack Rackham is sitting pretty on top of the Urca gold, and Woodes Rogers is gathering his armada, Abigail Ashe visits the Ogelthorpe plantation. She’s expressed financial interest: her father spoke highly of Mr. Ogelthorpe and she’d like to view the grounds herself before she commits any part of her father’s considerable fortune. Ogelthorpe’s hesitations–the need to “protect” his prisoners, a lady visiting such a place!–are overcome by the potential windfall.

She requests to view some of the prisoners. All she has to go on is a half-remembered face, glimpsed a few times and ten years gone…but as the men line up in front of her she comments in a strong voice to Mr. Ogelthorpe, “As you know, sir, Lord Ashe was less inclined to believe in the rehabilitation of evil men.”

At the end of the line, a blond head rises.

She requests to interview one of the prisoners to assess their condition. By now Ogelthorpe is unsettled, especially when she points out the very man who her father secreted away to this place; but considering that she brought the majority of her fortune with her under heavy guard, he acquiesces.

They bring him out to her on the veranda overlooking the plantation. There are chains around his ankles. “Do you know me, sir?” she asks, her voice trembling. He keeps his eyes lowered. Taking a deep breath, she says, “Six months ago, I was traveling by ship to join my father in the South Carolina colony…”

When she says the name Captain Flint, he flinches. When she says that Lady Hamilton found her in Nassau, he finally lifts his head. When she says that Captain Flint introduced himself to her as James MacGraw, he bursts out, “They’re alive? He’s alive?” For of course Peter Ashe had told him that Captain Flint killed both Miranda and James.

She tells him what became of Miranda and he weeps. She waits with him while the storm of his grief passes. When it does, he looks out over the fields. “I had buried them both, and myself alongside. Now I find myself somewhere between the land of the living and the dead, not knowing whether to rouse myself further or remain in the soil.”

“I’m going to free you from this place,” she vows, feeling the weight of her father’s cruelty on her shoulders. “I will bring him here to you, and we will see you revived.”

His mouth quirking, Thomas says, “I loved him. I loved them both, but James was my heart and soul. I would have you know that, before you take any action that might bring harm to yourself.”

Abigail had not quite guessed that from the letters. “I had thought my father a man of principle. He raised me to believe that truth and honesty were the foundation from which all other virtues grow. Since then, I have met pirates who were more committed to their principles than he to his, and a thousand times more loyal to those they called friends. In short, Lord Hamilton–”

“Thomas.”

“Thomas. I think a great deal less about your relationship to Mr. MacGraw than to what my father did to you both. I would see it made right.”

3x02: While Flint is busy raging against the machine storm, Rogers, Edward Teach, and Abigail Ashe all make their separate ways to Nassau. Upon arriving, Abigail visits what she expects to be Eleanor Guthrie but instead encounters Max. She’s wary about revealing too much and so pretends to be a relative of Mrs. Barlow; she expresses a strong desire to see Captain Flint.

Leaving the tavern with a few men she hired to protect her, Abigail literally runs into Charles Vane on his way in.

Abigail, silently: AW FUCK

Charles Vane, silently: WHAT THE FUCK

Her cover blown, Abigail books it out. Once Vane reveals her identity to Max, she sets Idelle to spy on the girl, suspecting that she might be here to exact revenge for her father’s death. They’re all a little preoccupied with converting the gold to gems.

3x03: When news of Woodes Rogers’ imminent arrival stirs up Nassau, Abigail outright makes contact with Max through Idelle and says that she’s actually here to repay Captain Flint’s kindness to her and that she’d like to help with the defense of the island in any way she can, with an eye to keeping Flint alive as long as she can. Max is skeptical of the offer but agrees to meet with a proposal.

They sit in the tavern room upstairs, Max in her Chair. “Your father undertook the building of an entire colony in the New World,” Max says. “So you are perhaps in a unique position to understand the size and difficulty of such a venture.”

“I am. He spoke of the supplies and manpower needed, the–”

“Debts,” Max says, cutting to the point. “Loans which would have been repaid by the first fruits of the new colony. Debts which, if purchased by the wrong person, could be called into default sooner than would be convenient for such a man as your father.”

“Or for such a man as approaches on the horizon,” Abigail guesses.

Except then Woodes Rogers makes landfall behind the spearhead of Hornigold and the pardons, and the news that Captain Flint is dead.

3x04: Flint & crew make it to the Maroon Island, but are still believed dead. While Nassau is in upheaval, Abigail takes to her room in despair. She’s failed, she believes, in her attempt to right what her father did wrong; she came too late. It’s Idelle who winds up counseling her, as no one is inclined to visit the brothel presently in the midst of this turnover.

“What did you think of him?” she asks, wiping her face and taking another sip of the rum that Idelle brought with her. She grimaces as she swallows.

“Flint? He never visited the brothel, never so much as looked at the girls. He kept his men in line about us, though, better than any other captain I could name. He always had a dark look about ‘im, though–some men turned to piracy outta greed, some outta desperation, but he? He always had some other reason.”

She trails off. Abigail is staring out the window, her eyes distant.

“That’s a dark look, there,” Idelle murmurs.

“I’m going to ruin him,” Abigail says. “Woodes Rogers. I’m going to ruin him.”

“Why? What’s he done wrong by you?”

“Not by me. By Captain Flint. By James MacGraw. They all did a terrible wrong and if I cannot have justice…then I will have vengeance.”

She meets Idelle’s gaze and holds it.

“Do you want to help me?”

At that moment, a fight breaks out on the street. It’s Charles Vane, making a run for it with Teach’s help. Watching them go, Idelle says, “I’ve seen a lot of captains come and go from this island. But the women–they’re the ones who stay.” She’s on board with the plan.

3x05: Woodes Rogers secures his position on the island and the pardons continue apace. With some coaching by Idelle, Abigail presents herself to him and a very surprised Eleanor Guthrie with the story that, having barely survived the evils of piracy and having lost her father to the same, she’s determined to help reform Nassau and establish a trade route between them and the South Carolina colony. Woodes Rogers sees dollar signs. Eleanor is more suspicious. Abigail asks to be made part of the consortium, where she will have access to financial information about the colony’s development.

Max also sees her there, but holds her tongue for now. She’s good at playing both sides of the line and keeping her options open.

3x06: Flint, having made allies of the Maroons, moves to make contact with Charles Vane and Edward Teach, trying to reignite the rebellion and having to fight Teach. Meanwhile, Abigail uses her position on the consortium to get the names of Rogers’ creditors, and writes them letters.

She’s also there when Jack Rackham is taken into custody, which she quickly communicates to Idelle, who passes it along to Featherstone. By now Idelle is full in with the plan to undo Rogers–it was never really explained in the series why she deviated from Max’s side of the war, but in this version it’s because she sees the possibility of Abigail’s plan (which was originally Max’s plan) working. Unfortunately Max is fully aware of the plan, too, but can’t directly warn Rogers of it without revealing that she was the one who came up with the idea. Cue a lot of significant glances between Max and Abigail across the office of Woodes Rogers, glances which Eleanor sees but does not quite understand.

3x07: Awwww, sheeeit. Long John Silver makes his appearance in the tavern, stomping Dufrense’s head in. Which means that somewhere, Captain Flint is alive! Abigail immediately turns to Idelle, hoping to make contact with him. What she gets instead is an invite to the secret meeting between Eme and Madi.

Madi: “I do not know you, even by name. Why should we trust you?”

Abigail: “I know someone. A friend of Captain Flint’s, someone who he thought forever lost to him, but who was merely stolen. This friend entrusted to me a message, one that I now entrust to you.”

Later that night, Madi returns to the Walrus to find Flint speaking to Silver post-head-stomping. “I met someone tonight. A young Englishwoman named Abigail Ashe, who told me she had a message for you, one that she insisted I repeat word for word: ‘know no shame.’ She said that once you heard those words, you would be ensured of her allegiance to our cause.”

Flint: o.o

Silver: o.o?

Madi: o.o?

Flint: O.O

Silver: o.O?

Madi: O.o?

Then Flint goes to the meetup with Rogers and the first words out of Rogers’ mouth are, “Thomas Hamilton.” For a terrifying moment Flint thinks that Rogers has him, that that’s what all this is about–but no, Rogers is just playin’.

3x08: Flint, Anne, Billy, and Vane rescue Jack, but Vane gets captured in the meantime. Flint is also pretty invested in trying to get a face-to-face with Abigail, or at least get a better explanation of WHAT THE FUCK.

Max, however, is through playin’ and finally confronts Abigail, saying that she knows she’s been moving forward with the plan to undermine Rogers. She shows her the letters that Abigail had sent to the creditors, letters which Max had Idelle intercept. She’s also been blocking attempts by Abigail and Flint to communicate with one another. But Abigail smiles. Surprise! Those aren’t ALL the letters. Idelle can play both sides, too. The primary creditors for Rogers’ debt have already been contacted. Max is alarmed but again, can’t do anything without convicting herself as well.

Abigail: “Are you so convinced of the inevitability of Captain Rogers’ success?”

Max: “Captain Rogers? No. But civilization will come to Nassau, and I fear that one of the faces that follows will be much darker than his.”

Abigail stands. “Then let me propose an alternative. A lord governor far more sympathetic to our goals, one who can not only gain the trust of the pirates, but their unbending loyalty as well.”

“I’m listening,” Max says, her eyes narrowed.

“Let me tell you a story,” Abigail says, “about a man named Thomas Hamilton.”

3x09: Max is on board. With her help and Idelle’s, Abigail gets in contact with Billy and tells him that she’s going to get Vane out of the fort. Billy is nonplussed but agrees.

Girding her motherfucking loins, Abigail heads to the fort and asks to see Vane. “He’s the man partly responsible for killing my father,” she says. “I’d like to see his face before he hangs.” Eleanor, who also lost her father to Vane, is sympathetic and allows it (remember, Rogers is sick at this point). Once in, though, Abigail picks the lock on Vane’s chains (Idelle taught her how) and gives him a gun. They escape through the same tunnels which–IRONY ALERT–Eleanor once used to help rescue Abigail from Vane’s clutches and though there’s a fight they make it out to Billy. During the skirmish Abigail seizes a gun and shoots a man dead.

Shaken by her actions, Abigail escapes with Vane and Billy to the interior of the island. Vane and Billy make plans to stir up the populace. Abigail gives him her father’s letters as a propaganda tool to further delegitimize Rogers and the British, and Billy begins to spin the tragedy of Thomas Hamilton alongside that of Long John Silver.

“And you,” Abigail says to Vane, “are going to help me rescue him.”

“The hell would I do that for?” Vane growls.

“You tried, once, to ransom me to my father for five thousand pounds.” (or however much it was) “I’ll ransom Thomas Hamilton to you for four times that.”

3x10: While Flint, Silver, and Madi fight Hornigold’s men on the Maroon Island, Abigail, Vane, some of Billy’s men, and some of her men make their way to the Georgia plantation to rescue Thomas. Abigail, still shaken by having killed a man last episode, has a long conversation with Vane about morality which is too much to relate here but boils down to: to him, freedom is the most important thing in the world, and it’s something he’d die for.

Silver, having noticed Flint’s intense distraction since receiving Abigail’s message, asks to hear the truth. Flint gives it to him.

At the plantation, they at first are greeted by Ogelthorpe but then have to fight their way out when he gets wise to their plans. Vane sacrifices himself to cover their exit. Once they’re on their way to Nassau, Thomas reveals that, “I have spent these last few months digging my way out of the soil, Ms Ashe, and I am resurrected. I paid an African slave to smuggle out letters to the crown and several former colleagues, revealing my wrongful incarceration and announcing my intention to take back what is mine: the Lord Proprietorship of Nassau.”

4x01: GUESSSS who shows up in Nassau lookin’ fine! By now Woodes Rogers’ creditors have mysteriously disappeared, being replaced by Abigail. Most of Rogers’ forces have been recalled to Britain. Abigail and Thomas have sent word to Flint&etc via Billy, telling the pirate fleet to hold position: they want this process to be as peaceful and “legitimate” as possible, and the presence of a pirate fleet is not going to help.

So Billy, Abigail, and Thomas stroll in with as many men as they can muster, and calmly assert Thomas’ right to assume the role of Lord Governor. Rogers orders them all arrested but what ho! Max prevents that! And where Max goes, the Consortium (reluctantly) follows.

Thomas: “Put simply, Captain Rogers, we have no more use for you.”

Rogers and his soldiers are put on a ship and sent off, though Eleanor stays behind as leverage against him (and because Eleanor wants to see what the fuck is going down). But Thomas and the others know full well that Britain is not going to tolerate what they’ve done–basically asserting themselves as a semi-independent colony–and will send someone else.

Their best weapon, Thomas decides, is shame.

“Shame?” Billy asks, frowning.

“Yes. I have brought with me from Georgia England’s bastards, their sodomites, their heretics and political unfortunates. Everyone whom English society did its best to forget–everyone whom England itself has wronged. We’re going to write down everything that happened to us, and send it everywhere. To France, to Spain, to the colonies, to Londontown.”

It’s the four of them: Billy, Abigail, Max, and Lord Hamilton, who has quietly but pointedly deferred The Chair to Max. “To what end?” Max asks, but she’s leaning forward.

“Right now, England sees what we’re doing as a challenge of civilization, one which they are all to eager to squelch. I want to make this personal. I want every Lord of Whitehall to cringe whenever they hear the word Nassau and feel it reverberate in Madrid and Paris and Boston, echoing the multitude of their personal embarrassments. I want to make this a place that they are all too eager to forget. You’ll work with the former inmates,” he adds to Billy, then catches himself. “If you please, work with the former inmates of the plantation. You’re a gifted writer and I can think of no one better to write such a pamphlet.”

Billy, who is accustomed to Flint snarling orders at him, says, “…all right.”

(YAY NO DARK!BILLY.)

Meanwhile, on the Maroon Island, Madi is like, “YOU PROMISED ME A WAR, MOTHERFUCKERS.” And Flint is like, “I DON’T EVEN CARE ABOUT A WAR RIGHT NOW, MY BOYFRIEND IS ALIVE.” And Silver is tearing his hair out trying to keep them from killing each other.

4x02: Because Woodes Rogers is a punk bitch, he goes straight to Havana and is like, WHADDUP to the Spanish. Except because he doesn’t have Teach’s head this time, he’s thrown in the stockades to rot, because fuck Woodes Rogers. He has conveniently alerted the Spanish to Nassau’s vulnerability, however, because he’s a punk bitch.

Meanwhile, Abigail remembers that Eme and Madi were talking about raising the plantation slaves, so she gets in touch with Eme about that. Basically, they need an army, and who better to lead a fight for freedom than slaves? She introduces Eme to Thomas, who, having spent however many fucking years as a slave himself, is all too willing to consider turning this into an abolitionist colony. Max, of course, is in full support. There’s the problem of the plantations, however, and how to proceed: they need the commerce and they need allies to whom they can trade that commerce.

In walks Eleanor, because fuck her Season 4 makeover as Woodes Rogers’ quiet seamstress wife.

Eleanor and Max are dispatched to Philadelphia to contact her grandparents. Thomas lacks the manpower to simply commandeer the plantation slaves but he sends word that any plantation owner who donates their slaves’ time to the rebuilding of the fort will be compensated. Privately, however, they have absolutely no intention of returning any of the slaves.

One of those slaves is, of course, Julius.

4x03: OH SHIT SPANISH INVASION. Sails are sighted. Word is immediately sent to Flint and the rest of the fleet. Billy rounds up everyone he can from the street to man the fort and defend Nassau. All the slaves are freed and handed weapons, at which point Julius immediately grabs control and retreats with his force to the interior.

There follows a bloody fight, as their ragtag army tries to hold off the Spanish long enough for the pirate fleet to get there.

Then, sails on the horizon.

Spanish sailor: ¡Señor, el barco pirata está en camino de embestirnos!

Spanish captain: ¿Qué nave es esa?

Spanish sailor: No lo sé, pero el capitán parece estar en la proa de la nave echando espuma por la boca y disparando láseres de arco iris desde sus globos oculares.

Spanish captain: Mierda. Mierda. Mierda.

Flint leads the fleet against the Spanish armada with the full force of his rage and love. Unfortunately the Spanish came to win it and the Walrus is forced to abandon ship. Silver goes in the drink, to Madi and Flint’s horror. Thomas and Abigail can only watch as the Walrus is sunk, and they fear the worst.

4x04: In Philadelphia, Eleanor and Max hear about the Spanish invasion secondhand, and fear for their home. They also possibly make out a little bit. Whatever, they’re not getting back together but damn, for old time’s sake, yeah? They do visit with her grandparents to establish trade connections for Nassau, and also to deliver Billy’s Pamphlet of Shame to the publishing machine of Philadelphia, which in turn would have sent it throughout the colonies.

Back in Nassau, Abigail is freaked out about the possibility–yet again–that Flint has perished, and she leaves the fort to go look for him in the Wrecks. Instead what she finds is Israel Hands holding John Silver hostage. A struggle ensues: a one-legged half-drowned man and a teenaged girl vs. Israel Hands. Somehow they prevail and Israel Hands dies long before he can whisper poison in Silver’s ear.

Silver: “Who the fuck are you?”

Abigail: “Who are you?”

Thus begins my favorite part of the not-story, which I like to call Abigail and Silver’s Adventures on New Providence Island. Basically it’s them going around and convincing the slaves who have armed themselves and are busy freeing other slaves that they should come to Nassau and fight the Spanish. They meet up with Julius and Silver rolls a Nat 20 on Persuasion, while Abigail gives her most solemn word that she will see every slave on Nassau freed, and while that seems like an unbelievable claim from some random white girl, she says it with such fierce conviction that Julius kinda believes her as much as he believes Silver.

4x05: At the fort, shit’s going sideways fast. The Spanish are making landfall, the fort is besieged. Teach, Anne, and Jack are still on board their ship and are playing cat and mouse with the Spanish fleet. Flint and Madi make it to Miranda’s house, but have no way of getting through to the fort. Then: out of the darkness rides Abigail and Silver on a white horse.

(Earlier)

Abigail: *behind Silver on the horse* STOP STOP STOP.

Silver: *reining the horse in and almost making it rear up* WHAT.

Abigail: HAVE YOU NEVER RIDDEN A HORSE BEFORE IN YOUR LIFE?

Silver: A couple of times.

Abigail: Just…let me ride in front, okay?

Flint and Madi are, of course, desperately glad to see Silver alive. I think that, despite Thomas being alive, Flint is plenty in love with Silver in this version of events, too. Thomas is his priority, though, so he basically grabs Abigail and is like WHAT THE FUCK TELL ME EVERYTHING.

Then there’s the big showdown. Flint, Madi, Silver, Abigail, and Julius storm Nassau with their combined forces. The Spanish are driven back to their ships. The gates of the fort open up and there he is. There’s Thomas. He and Flint embrace right there in the street in front of everyone because who fucking cares at that point? Billy has been subtly spinning hoyay about them for weeks now, it’s practically required that they confirm the rumors and kiss a little in front of God and Nassau to confirm it all. Abigail sheds more than a few tears, relieved to have made it right but feeling the weight of everything she’s had to do to make it happen.

4x06: In the aftermath: Teach, Jack, and Anne circle back around to Nassau. Silver totally dug up the cache at some point, which Flint can’t even be all that mad about because Thomas is there, so they’ve got the cache. They’ve got the remains of a fleet; a lot of it was destroyed fighting the Spanish armada, but they’re rebuilding fast. And once Maxanor returns from Philadelphia, they’ve got trade routes to fill with commerce. Their Pamphlet of Shame is certainly making international waves, fighting an entirely different kind of psychological warfare, and the fact that they fought off a Spanish invasion certainly lends them a kind of patriotic leniency on the part of Britain and its other colonies.

There remains the question of the Maroons and the slaves who fought alongside the pirates, and the slaves elsewhere on the island. It’s the subject of much debate between the idealists and the pragmatists on the island. The matter is decided, however, when Abigail stands before the council and says: “‘As I am free, so Nassau is free.’ Those were the words of Charles Vane. I did not know him as well as others, here, nor can I stand before you and say that I thought him a good man. But he did believe in one principle with his whole heart: freedom. We were fleeing a slave plantation in Georgia with our Lord Governor, and when its forces would have overwhelmed us, Charles Vane turned to me and said one word: ‘run.’ He knew that for this vision of Nassau to live, he would have to sacrifice his life, and he did not flinch. He did not hesitate. He died for that vision. Will you now pollute it? Will you dishonor his sacrifice? I stand with Charles Vane, and with the Maroons, and with all others who would call themselves free; anyone who calls them an enemy calls me their enemy.”

That, more than anything, turns the tables: Thomas informs the plantation owners to go fuck themselves, and Nassau is made an abolitionist commonwealth. England hasn’t decided whether or not to accept this state of being, but as Thomas predicted, a lot of people in Whitehall would rather pretend that Nassau doesn’t exist than make a big fuss over the degree of its independence. Teach does go off to fight the entire colony of Georgia in revenge for the loss of Charles Vane, and gets himself killed, because no one cares about Teach.

Uhhhhh, and then they all live happily ever after? Flint gets Thomas back, Silver and Madi are together, Anne and Max make up, Eleanor raises her baby to be a BAMF, Abigail made a thing go right.

Whatever, I spent all day on this instead of my other projects. Here it is, I’m done.

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