#Leonard fiasco

[3lizab3t]

bro where do these losers keep coming from

[skullman2033]

A while back i had an idea about a DC version of the superior foes of spiderman about a bunch of Z-list gotham rogues teaming up to be more of a threat and becoming a found family of misfits, and i finally pushed myself to make summaries of the cast. Thanks @roolsilver for encouraging and helping with the idea

They’re called Z-List and they’re comprised of

Mary Louise Dahl. AKA Baby Doll. Former Child Actress diagnosed with Systemic Hypoplasia, making her have the appearance of an 8-10 year old even though she’s in her early thirties. Has suffered Two psychotic breaks involving her fallen stardom and treatment due to her condition but is now a sane if somewhat temperamental individual . Possesses keen planning skills and owns an apartment complex that she rents out as safehouses for criminals. Also dabbles as a voice actor.

Mitchell Mayo AKA (rather Begrudgingly) Condiment King. Contract killer that specializes in killing people via poisoned foods after salvaging a botched hit by drowning a target in hot sauce. Considers himself cursed with what criminal underworld calls “The Gothams”. Described as “When the stars align so terribly perfect that your entire life seems to point to you being a supervillain” often seen wearing a pickle Green Beanie and black Lennon shades. Also a professional food critic

Leonard “Lenny” Fiasco AKA Eraser. A perfectionist with obsessive compulsive disorder, Lenny grew up heavily bullied by his peers for constantly deliberating over small mistakes in his work to the point that he carried several erasers everywhere he went. Eventually Lenny would fall into crime and become a cleaner. Offering to remove evidence from criminal escapades for 20% of the take using a specialized helmet and pair of gloves inspired by his beloved erasers. He dresses like a goddamn number 2 pencil.

Drury Walker. AKA Cameron Van Cleer. AAKA Killer Moth. Devoted and loving single father to teenager/Spoiled Brat/social media “Villaingilante” Katherine “Kitten” Walker, Alias Pink X. Former long suffering Firefly henchman, and all around blundering criminal oaf. Still has a knack for invention (he invented most of his own gear. Including functioning wings. ) and an unintentional encounter with the occult giving him a “Were-moth” form whenever he’s under extreme stress.

And finally Delbert Billings Kieth Sherwood. AKA Spellbinder. Spellbinder WOULD find immense Success as one of the many villains to Employ mind control. If it werent for a few things. thing. He still has his morals, is emotionally open, and REALLY doesnt want the stigma that comes with the common things you associate with Mind control villains. Still, provided he isnt handicapped by his fear of being seen as a super-Creep he can be quite effective. Armed with custom made projectors in his gloves, mask, and a collection of orange and black spiral eye themed drones. This former school counselor (again, we must restate, he is NOT A CREEP.) is a formidable member of the team, though he often delegates himself to being the moral and emotional core of the group. He also hates teen titans villain Mad Mod. Like, he really. Really. Really hates Mad Mod. So much.

Other characters Include Kite-Man(hell yeah.) AKA Charles Brown. Who used to be a part of the friend group. But Semi-Ditched them when a Clerical Error put him into the Suicide Squad.

Harley Quinn, (because of course.) Big time Villain turned Vigilante (of which almost no one blames her. Nor holds any ill will.) who, while not part of the team is still friendly to them, because Harley is everyones friend TBH.

And really, any other Dc characters i think would be cool for this.

[the-antiapocalyptic-man]

Some Gotham rogues from recent asks

[dootplusone]

(OG post has Reblogs turned off. You can find it here!)

(OG post has Reblogs turned off. You can find it here!)

(If the OP would prefer this post not link back to the OG post or is otherwise is not okay w/ this post in reference to theirs, please let me know in some form so I can delete/edit it as needed.)

Thinking. Abt this but with Bones. Like. Post-Tholian Web? Post-Mirror Mirror?

For AOS, could be after Into Darkness and/or Beyond.

A Bones who's just. So anxious. So stressed. So overwhelmed that it starts taking a toll on his health. Maybe he doesn't even realise - or maybe he does and tries his best to push through it until it knocks him on his ass. Kind of in the vein of "You don't actually know how tired you are until you stop. And then you just physically cannot start again." It becomes his new baseline, a problem that just brews and storms in the distance.

And he just carries on. And keeps going and going and going until one day he realises that 'Oh fuck, I'm not okay' and has about 5 seconds of warning before he straight up collapses, doesn't matter if it's on the bridge, in the madbay, on a planet - he's going down. (Maybe a repeat of Tholian Web where he just straight up faints into Spock's arms? Full whammy, why not)

Maybe it's a high-tension situation getting resolved that does it. The pure relief of it reminds him of how tired he is. How tired he's been for a while. His body sees that momentary rest and goes "More of that, please. And I'm not asking."

And he's so rendered by it that he doesn't grumble about being coddled like he normally would when he wakes up. He knows not to fuck with the medbay staff - they're just as firm as he is on recovery, and that's not by accident - and he knows that Spock and Kirk will be hovering, because they see any problem as something they, too, should shoulder the burden of.

...And because they're some of the most protective people in the damned universe. And that goes for pretty much all the people on board the Enterprise.

In some scenarios, it's just a case of letting his body and mind rest properly. In others, there's a lot more recovery involved than anyone initially expects. Luckily for him, he has a found family who are determined to be there with him at every step. It just takes a couple reminders, every once in a while.

[dustykneed]

for context: star trek into darkness (specifically, my take on the implications of bones doing what he had to do and the emotional fallout of those missing scenes) (not that ive seen it!! but ive read enough fic to know the gist of it LMAO) (can you believe this started as an impulse draw to see if i could use pastels to convey heavy emotions and now im writing a very very long headcanon in my notes app.)

...

Leonard goes and he plays god, and injects Jim with that godforsaken blood, and then there is nothing left to do but wait.

He sinks into the chair at his desk, and steeples his fingers together. It occurs to him that these circumstances are the sort that would drive any religious man to bow his head and clasp his hands together, like so, and pray.

--but he is a doctor, and he has never been religious, and he has a duty to do, and he has broken his oath, and there is blood on his hands and flecking his shirt.

Leonard sits very still at his desk and weeps, and he does not pray.

...

sorry to all of y'all who had to find out i was an angst goblin this way <///3 but basically the hc/rough fic is an extension of the angst potential of that one scene where jim wakes up and fixates on spock (and his lack of response towards bones is never addressed afterwards i think? not sure but it's an interesting premise imo)

brief summary: bones never gets closure from jim after he wakes up because jim and spock get together immediately after and it just slips their minds, so bones is stuck in "oh god jim's dying" mode and feels absolutely terrible, but the bridge crew helps a bit by being there for him to hang out with, but still bones does overwork while trying to work through the sense of wrongness of not being able to have his emotional needs met after the whole jim dying fiasco and feeling like his best friend has forgotten him. he admittedly makes good progress (by which i mean he's able to take really big overwhelming feelings and put them away well enough in his daily life to function relatively normally) but the crushing grief is always in the background. about a month or so after spirk gets together, spock accidentally brushes bones' arm and is absolutely slammed by a wave of unexpected exhaustion and emotional pain and is like ??????!!!????????? long story short he drags bones to jim and bones cries for the first time since jim "died" and it is immensely cathartic and then jim blurts out a confession because he has horrible timing and asks bones to join him and spock and obviously bones cries harder and spock is about to smack jim upside the head lmao (bones says its way too much to process and he needs time but hes not exactly opposed, and they all start spending more time together, and then eventually bones is like fuck it and asks for a kiss and they finally get together !!!!!!)

as a treat for reading all of my mildly insane word vomit y'all get a soft bittersweet aos mcspirk scribble<33

gotta love aos jim's majestic eyebrows and aos spock's general sort of >:[ expression!! really growin on me tbh

[440mxs-wife]

Written in the Stars

Pairing: Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy x F!Reader. Other Characters: Jim Kirk, Nyota Uhura, Cmdr. Spock, Christine Chapel (mentioned).

Word Count: 8029

Warnings: Soulmates, show-level violence, Away Team member injury, mutual pining, a smidge of angst due to perceived unrequited love, but FLUFFFFF

Summary: When Dr. McCoy got married, he knew she wasn’t his soulmate, but it didn’t matter to him. After the divorce, he figures he’s missed his chance, due to his age and previous marriage. The Reader joins the crew as the new Science Officer aboard the Enterprise, assigned to Cmdr. Spock’s team. She hasn’t met her soulmate yet, but she seems drawn to a particular member of the Enterprise crew. Could these two lost soulmates have found each other at last?

A/N: If you’ve been tagged here, it’s because you’ve interacted one or more times on a McCoy story of mine, or we’re moots. Whether you like or reblog, I am eternally grateful for your support. If anyone else would like to be tagged on any future Karl Urban character postings, please let me know. Thank you, and enjoy the show!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dr. Leonard McCoy joined StarFleet and was assigned to the Enterprise after a few unfortunate events. He left for the five-year mission right after his divorce, having known full well that the woman he married wasn't his soulmate. It didn't matter though, because Leonard didn't believe in that stuff. He was impatient, not interested in living alone anymore, therefore not waiting to find his soulmate. At the time, he'd loved Jocelyn enough to marry her. Only she didn't love him enough to want to stay married to him, or so she'd said.

Of course he had his soulmark, just like everyone he knew had one, with his shaped like a starburst and visible on his wrist. At his age, though, he felt that he should have met his person by now, the one he was destined to be with forever. So after the fiasco with Jocelyn, he'd stopped looking, figuring he'd missed his chance. Which is precisely when his soulmate appeared, and where he least expected it.

The Enterprise was making a scheduled stop at Starbase 42 to pick up supplies and some new crew members. Capt. Kirk had sent over the files, which Dr. McCoy decided to review before the ship reached its destination. Most of them looked pretty routine, a couple of ensigns for Engineering, three for Security. Then there was your file.

According to your bio, you were to be assigned to the Science Department, under Cmdr. Spock. You had been in StarFleet for a bit longer than the average crew member, and had risen to the rank of Lieutenant-Commander (LCmdr.). However, to Dr. McCoy, that only meant you carried a wealth of life experience with you. The only family you had left were your two brothers, each with their own families, and a best friend who became more like your sister.

Leonard glanced at the clock and noticed it was time to head to the transporter room to greet the new additions to the crew. Though the information in your file was fairly standard, Leonard couldn't help but give yours a bit more attention than the others. It was like he was drawn to it, wanting to dive into it and find out all there was to know about you. He arrived at the transporter room and walked in, finding Capt. Kirk and the other officers waiting. "All right, Jim. I'm here, so let's get this show on the road," he grumbled.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As the shimmering light-particles of the transport beam disappeared, you had re-materialized aboard the Enterprise. It was your dream assignment, to be on StarFleet's flagship, and you looked forward to working with Cmdr. Spock. And of course, you were excited to be serving with Capt. James T. Kirk, one of the most decorated and colorful captains in StarFleet. But almost as soon as you appeared on the pad, you felt a pull in another direction, something you hadn't experienced before.

Once everyone had arrived, the captain introduced himself and the other commanding officers. Your companions handed over their orders, then exited the transporter room to be shown to their quarters. You stepped forward and handed your paperwork to Capt. Kirk and introduced yourself in the process.

"At ease, Commander," Kirk smiled. "We're a little less formal and bit more family around here, not that I don't run a tight ship," he explained.

"Of course not, Captain, and thank you. I'm honored to be here," you responded.

"Your credentials are impressive, Commander," Spock commented. "I am looking forward to working with you."

"I'm fortunate to be on your team, Cmdr. Spock. Thank you," you acknowledged before turning your attention to the dark-haired man in the blue medical uniform. He was standing off to the side, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. As you took in his appearance, his furrowed brow seemed to relax and you felt that same pull as when you first arrived.

Your silent observance of the man by the door did not escape Capt. Kirk's notice. He walked over to where the man was standing and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Commander, this is our Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Leonard McCoy. Bones, say hello to our newest crew member," Kirk grinned.

You stuck your hand out in greeting. "Pleased to meet you, Dr. McCoy," you remarked.

"Likewise," he replied as he took your hand and shook it. The instant your hand touched Dr. McCoy's hand, a jolt of electricity shot up your arm. It surprised you, but you kept your hand in his. What the hell was that? he thought. Instead, he inquired aloud, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, sure, everything's fine, Dr. McCoy. I'm kind of a little nervous. May I be shown to my quarters, please?" you asked.

"Right this way, Commander," Spock gestured with his arm for you to precede him out the door.

When you reached the doorway, you popped your head back inside and caught Dr. McCoy's attention. "By the way, hope to see you around, Dr. McCoy," you winked and left the transporter room.

"So, that was inter--" Kirk started.

"Jim, no comment necessary," McCoy muttered. Despite his gruff reply, there was the ghost of a smile on his face, thanks to the Enterprise's new science officer. Interesting indeed, he thought.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Once inside your quarters, you started to unpack your bags. You hung up your uniforms in the closet and arranged your toiletries in the bathroom. The rest of your personal items were placed throughout your room. You were surveying your work when you heard a chime at the door.

Your visitor introduced herself as Nyota Uhura, Communications Officer. While you unpacked, she perched on the end of your bed and you got to know each other. She brought you up to speed on herself and life on the Enterprise.

The topic came around to your personal lives, Uhura mentioned that she and Cmdr. Spock discovered they were soulmates a few years ago. "What about you? Have you met your soulmate yet?" she asked.

"Sadly, no, not yet. But I hope my posting here will put me closer to finding out who it is," you replied, thinking back to your electrifying encounter with Dr. McCoy.

"Oh, really?" Uhura was leaning forward, her curiosity piqued. "Who do you think it is?" she wondered.

"Hmm, not sure, but I've been having this certain feeling, like whoever it may be, he's here onboard this ship. Add that to one of the many reasons I'm glad I'm here," you chuckled.

"Well, we're glad to have you. There's a 'Welcome to the Enterprise' party going on later in the recreation area. It's a chance for us to get to know you all, and for you to mingle with the senior officers," Uhura mentioned.

"Sounds great, I'll be there. Um, about what time?" you inquired.

"I believe the captain said it'll be getting started at 1900 hrs.," Uhura replied, then checked the time. "Oops, I'm supposed to be meeting Spock in a few minutes. See you later at the party?" she asked.

"You bet, I'll probably see if I can take a quick power nap before then. Want to be well-rested before meeting up with everyone so I don't say the wrong thing," you replied nervously.

"I understand that, but don't worry. Everything will be fine, and I already have a feeling you and I are going to be great friends," Uhura remarked as she walked to the door.

"Thank you, and I'll see you later," you called. Once Uhura left, you crawled into your bed and settled in for a nap. You made sure to set an alarm to give yourself time to get ready for the party, then closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back in his quarters, Dr. McCoy was reviewing some information on his PADD when his door chimed. At first, he ignored it, because he rarely had visitors and didn't want to be disturbed. When it chimed again, he rolled his eyes and strode to the door. He opened it, only to find Capt. Kirk on the other side, grinning from ear to ear. "What do you want, Jim? I was in the middle of something important when you interrupted me," he bristled.

"Hey, Bones, good to see you," Kirk replied as he breezed past his friend and plopped into a chair.

"Make yourself at home, Jim, by all means," McCoy stated dryly. "Whatever it is, the answer is no."

"Wanted to drop by and let you know there's a 'Welcome to the Enterprise' party for all the senior officers to mingle with the newbies. Now I know none of them are medical, but it would be nice if you'd put in an appearance. By the way, that new one on Spock's team was pretty cute, wasn't she?" Kirk asked.

"Jim, I haven't got time for this. Besides, what are we, in high school?" McCoy retorted.

Kirk shrugged. "Looks like the two of you shared a moment in the transporter room, that's all," he remarked.

McCoy rolled his eyes at Kirk's observation. "There was no 'moment', it was an introduction. Stop trying to make something out of nothing. Except it didn't feel like 'nothing' when our hands touched, he thought. "Look, I'll try to swing by, if I get a chance. Good enough?"

"That's the spirit, Bones! See you later," Kirk hastily replied, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder before bolting out of the room.

McCoy shook his head, then went back to where he'd left his PADD. He picked it up, intending to read, but instead stared off ahead, deep in thought. What would it hurt to show up for a drink or two? I suppose that would count as 'putting in an appearance', he reasoned with himself.

His mind made up, Leonard changed into a more casual attire of jeans with a hole in the right knee and a navy-blue Henley. He left the top two buttons undone and pushed the sleeves up to his elbows. He slipped on his well-worn dark brown cowboy boots and dabbed on some cologne before heading out the door to the rec area.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You entered the rec area a little after 1900 hrs., when Uhura said the party would be starting. As soon as you walked in, your eyes scanned the area for her or anyone else you recognized. Fortunately, the captain soon spotted you and waved you over to his table.

On your way to meet him, you wandered past a beautiful mahogany pool table with clawfoot legs. It was covered in blue felt and had leather nets under each of the six pockets to catch any one of the fifteen brightly colored orbs. Hmm, wonder who might be up for a game or two later, you thought as you ran your hands along the rails.

There were two open chairs on the captain's left side, one putting you next to him or, the other, Lt. Uhura. You chose to sit next to Uhura, who immediately stood to give you a hug and raved about your outfit. You were wearing jeans with a pastel purple, off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, along with your black suede ankle boots. Around your neck was a teardrop pendant of your birthstone on a delicate silver chain.

You were about halfway through your first margarita, when you heard a deep voice behind you ask, "Is this seat taken?"

Turning around, you were pleasantly surprised to see Dr. McCoy standing behind you, a glass of bourbon in his hand. "Um, n-no, Dr. McCoy," you stammered. Way to go, you berated yourself with a mental facepalm.

"Relax, Commander," McCoy chuckled. "Please call me Leonard."

You gave him your name in return, stating it was better than being called "Commander" all the time. "Especially with so many of us around," you joked.

The captain finally noticed that Dr. McCoy had joined the table and taken the seat next to him. "Bones, you made it after all. Good to see you!" Capt. Kirk exclaimed.

"Why thank you, Jim, I was beginning to wonder if you were even going to notice," McCoy replied.

The doctor's nickname used by the captain did not escape your notice, but you filed it away to ask about later. "So, Leonard, tell me about where you're from," you started.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your conversation with Dr. McCoy stretched far into the evening, the two of you asking questions to better get to know each other. Eventually, your Q & A transitioned to the pool table for a friendly game of 8-ball. One by one, the others left the recreation area and returned to their quarters. Neither you nor Leonard noticed you were the only ones left until you were deep into your third game of pool, with you lining up your shot.

Standing up after watching the #15 roll into the corner pocket, you looked around at the empty recreation area. "Leonard, what time is it?" you asked.

He checked the time and was surprised at the hour as well as the deserted room. "It's after midnight. Guess time really does fly when you're having fun," he grinned. "Your shot, darlin'," he drawled. You noticed his Southern accent was a bit more pronounced after a few rounds of bourbon.

"Okay, but after I knock in this #12, I'm on the 8-ball," you smirked. You took your time to survey all the angles before settling in to take your shot. With a smooth, fluid stroke, the cue ball connected with the object ball, which went in the side pocket. The 8-ball was of little challenge to you as well, sailing into the exact pocket you intended.

"Well, I guess that's the game, then," McCoy remarked. You gave him a small curtsy before placing your cue stick on the table and returning to finish your drink. "Where'd you learn to play like that?" he wondered.

"Had a pool table in the basement growing up. I used to spend quite a few hours a day, practicing until I was good enough to win against my brothers and all their friends. Then I met my best friend at the Academy, and we took turns, um, how shall I say this? Oh, yeah. Separating the new recruits from their money," you grinned sheepishly.

Leonard threw his head back and laughed. "You are full of surprises. Which leads me to my next question, and feel free to punch me for it if you want, but I have to know. How is someone as lovely and fascinating as you are still single?"

You felt your cheeks grow warm with the compliment. "Well, I won't punch you for asking a question like that. The simple answer is, I haven't found my soulmate yet."

McCoy gave you a sideways glance, one eyebrow raised. "You believe in that? One person, one heart, all that?" he wondered.

"Sure I do, don't you?" you replied. "I mean, a person as handsome and charming as you isn't attached to anyone either. Why is that, if you don't mind me asking?" you quizzed.

"I don't mind you asking, darlin'," he replied, then took a sip of his drink. "I was married once, but it didn't take. At the time, I loved her, and even though she wasn't my soulmate, I didn't care. I was too impatient in my youth and didn't want to be alone the rest of my life, so we got married. When I came onboard here, I was fresh off my divorce. When I met Jim, I told him that my ex got everything, and 'all I got left is my bones'. Probably why he calls me that," he muttered.

"Hmm. And here I thought it was because you were in the medical field. You know, a doctor used to be called a 'sawbones', I figured that's where it came from," you quipped.

"I guess it could go either way, although your explanation is a little less depressing," Leonard conceded.

You reached over and covered his hand with yours, trying to ignore the small spark at the contact. "Your soulmate is still out there, waiting to be found. I'm just sure of it," you remarked.

McCoy gave you a hopeful smile. "You think so? I guess I figured that with my age and jumping the gun and marrying Jocelyn, that I missed my chance," he replied.

"What do you mean, 'with my age', you're hardly an old man, Leonard. Besides, I'm betting that you haven't missed your chance, so keep the faith," you winked. "Come on, Doc, it's late. Walk me to my quarters?" you asked.

McCoy drained the last of the bourbon from his glass and stood up from the table. His grin grew wider as he held out his elbow for you to take. "Shall we, shweethahrt?" he said in his attempt at a Bogart impression.

You laughed as you looped your arm through his, and he tucked it in closed to his side. "Leonard, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," you answered.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

And it was. At first it was you and Dr. McCoy, two friends sharing breakfast together on most, if not all, mornings. Sometimes the captain, or Spock and Uhura would be there, which made for lively discussions. But you were most content with the days it was just you and the good doctor enjoying each other's company.

It wasn't just the mornings, you took turns hanging out in each other's quarters, watching old movies or reading together. Other times, it was sharing stories about your lives, your families, even your Academy days. Being with Leonard was a comfort for you, a natural and easy friendship to fall into.

The first time you noticed your thoughts wandering from friendship to more was one night you were cooking dinner in McCoy's quarters. Your room was not equipped with a kitchenette, only a replicator, so Leonard offered to let you in to his to make dinner. He had some last-minute duties in the MedBay, but said he would join you later.

You were putting the finishing touches on your Cheesy Chicken and Broccoli casserole to put into the oven, when Leonard strode through the door. He stood behind you, put his hands on your shoulders and glanced down at the dish. "That looks amazing, sweetheart," he grinned and gave your shoulders a squeeze before heading to the showers.

As you watched him walk away, you couldn't help but notice how domestic the whole scene was, and how comfortable it all felt. Leonard coming home to you after a difficult day in the MedBay, to see you making dinner. Of course, it could also just as easily be the other way around, with him in the kitchen, waiting for you to come home. Then you shook your head to clear those thoughts. Although the two of you had become best friends, that still kept you in the "friend zone", right?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Leonard reached for his towel to dry himself off after his shower. Coming back to his quarters to see you in his kitchen was a comforting sight to see, not to mention how natural it felt. Like it had been that way for years instead of the months since you'd gotten to know each other. Lately, there was many a night he'd lain in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if you were having as much trouble sleeping as he was.

Ever since he met you in the transporter room, Leonard knew there was something different about you, but couldn't put his finger on it. That night the two of you spent in the rec area at Jim's "welcome" party was one of the best he'd had in a long time. Sitting and talking with someone, finding out you had like interests and similar values was refreshing for him. You were sweet, intelligent, and you made him laugh, something his friends thought he needed more of in his life.

Most of his time was spent in the MedBay, caring for others, but there were times when he wanted someone to care for him. You certainly fit the bill for that as well, such as when you stopped by with a coffee for him on one of your breaks. Or when you sneaked into his office to hide scraps of paper with jokes written on them to make him chuckle. And your home cooking was some of the best he'd had since the last time he visited his ma on Earth.

There were dozens of reasons why and multiple occasions when he wished there was more than friendship between you. However, after his experience with marriage to Jocelyn, he was a little hesitant to pursue anything beyond friendship with you. Jim would probably say he was "spooked", whereas Leonard would counter that he was "protecting his heart".

Early on, you'd admitted to him that you believed in soulmates and were still looking for yours. He'd been down the road once where he ignored the concept, if only to avoid being alone for the rest of his life. You deserved that one person, that one heart that Fate had decided truly belonged with you. He'd never want you to settle for a life with him if he wasn't your soulmate. Thus, he continued to keep things with you in the "friend zone".

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A couple of weeks later

"You want me to do what, now?" you asked the Captain.

"I know you heard me, Commander," Kirk replied. "It's a few weeks until Valentine's Day, and I think it would be a great idea to have a celebration. Music, food, drinks....and you dancing with a certain country doctor would certainly be all the entertainment I'd need for a while," he smirked.

You, on the other hand, rolled your eyes at his obvious matchmaking attempts. "Jim, we're just friends. And I resent your insinuation that Dr. McCoy would want anything to do with me beyond that," you retorted.

"Why is that so hard to believe, that Bones would be interested in you as more than a friend?" Jim persisted.

"Because...." you murmured, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap.

"'Because....' why?" he gently prodded.

You huffed in exasperation. "Because I'm me, and he's....handsome, witty, fascinating, charismatic and could have any woman in the universe he wants. I've seen him at those diplomatic functions, Jim. Women more or less throwing themselves at him, hanging all over him and what does he do? He just smiles at them and turns on the Southern charm. Soulmate or not, what chance do I have," you whispered.

"Wait, he's your soulmate? How do you know? More importantly, why haven't you told him?" Kirk peppered you with questions.

"You're just full of curiosity today, aren't you?" you sassed. "I saw his soulmark on his wrist, and it matches mine here." You tilted your head and pulled your hair back to reveal a matching starburst behind your left ear. "I've been in love with him since that 'welcome' thing you arranged, when we talked and shot rack after rack of 8-ball till after midnight. But I want him to love me for me, not due to some pre-destined, matching tattoo on our bodies."

Kirk stepped out from behind his desk and took the chair next to you. "Listen. I've been friends with the man for a long time. I've seen him at those diplomatic galas, and let me tell you that I haven't seen him look at any of those women the way he looks at you," he explained.

"Now I know you're out of your mind," you snorted. When Kirk tried to protest, you held up your hands. "Stop. Okay? I'll do as you ask, plan your little Valentine's Day party for the crew. It's a nice idea, and I think we're due for some fun around here. Just please quit trying to push me and Dr. McCoy together, huh?" you pleaded.

Kirk reached over and sandwiched your hand in his. "Although I know I'm right, I will honor your wishes and stop forcing the issue with you and Bones. Fair enough?" he asked.

You nodded and stood up from your chair. "Yes, thank you, Jim. I appreciate it. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my quarters, trying to figure out how to put this thing together," you replied. You gave him a weary smile before exiting his Ready Room.

Jim waited until you were out of his office before voicing his thoughts. "I may have agreed to honor your wishes, but that doesn't mean I can't go at it from Bones' point of view," he vowed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following week, you were busy transforming one of the large, rarely-used conference rooms Jim set aside for you into a sea of red, white and pink. There were pink paper hearts attached to the walls, along with red cutouts shaped like Cupid with his bow. The long conference tables would be used for food and drinks, and were set up along the outside edge of the room.

You were scanning through the food and drink list on your PADD when Leonard walked in. A bright smile graced your face at the sight of your best friend. "Why, hello Len! What brings you here?"

Leonard scanned the room before answering. "So this is the 'secret project' you've been working on for the past week," he replied. "I've been looking everywhere for you. I started in the lab, then I checked your room. Had to ask the ship's computer for your location," he remarked.

"Yeah, sorry, Jim put me in charge of this, so here I am. And it's not a 'secret project', as you called it. We have all these decorations and the tables will be full of drinks and all kinds of foods," you explained. "While we're on the subject, I have something to ask you, Leonard."

"Oh? What's that?" he wondered.

"Well, this is going to be kind of a formal, dressing-up kind of thing. And there'll be music and dancing, so I was wondering....if you'd like to go with me....as my date?" you asked.

Leonard froze. A date? he thought. His heart wanted very much to take you up on your offer to accompany you to the party. He could picture you all dressed up in a formal gown and your hair perfectly styled, a veritable vision of beauty. His next mental picture was of the two of you walking into the party with your arm safely tucked into his side. His brain, however, reminded him that this was a Valentine's Day dance, and you two were not romantic partners, only friends.

You must have heard his brain's internal reminder loud and clear and interpreted his hesitation as a decline of your invitation. "You know what, never mind. It's all right. Forget I asked," you backpedaled. "I'm sure you have much more important things to do than go to a stupid dance with me," you muttered as you gathered your PADD and other supplies.

"Wait a minute, where are you going?" McCoy implored.

"Uh, I forgot I told Cmdr. Spock that I would come into the lab later and see if I can make some more progress on my assignment," you explained. "So, I'm sorry, but I can't meet you for dinner tonight, Dr. McCoy," you added, then hurriedly left the room without a backwards glance.

Leonard stood gazing at the floor, hands on his hips and shaking his head. As he stood in place, he was trying to figure out what just happened and how he knew he had to fix it. Uhura was watching your interaction with Dr. McCoy since he joined you, so she walked over to him. She placed a hand on his arm to get his attention. "Dr. McCoy, are you all right?" she asked.

He looked over to see the concern in Uhura's eyes. "I....I don't know," he rasped. "I think I made a huge mistake with her and I may need your help."

She led him over to one of the chairs, where he filled her in on his conversation with you. Uhura listened intently, waiting for him to finish providing as much information as he was willing to share. When he finished, she was silent as she thought about her response. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to say the first thing that comes to your mind." McCoy nodded. "Are you in love with her?"

"Yes," he immediately answered.

"As a friend, or more than a friend?" Uhura asked.

"More," McCoy hastily replied. A startled look crossed his face at the realization. "I'm in love with her," he whispered. "But she said she was still looking for her soulmate, and I don't know what her soulmark looks like or where it is."

"Dr. McCoy," Uhura gently chided. "Do you really need visual confirmation of her soulmark to know that you belong together? From that first night, everyone could see it, based on how the two of you looked at each other, how you interacted. How long did it take you to realize that everyone had left?" she giggled.

McCoy grinned. "We didn't really notice much of anything outside of ourselves until after midnight. She'd just beaten me two games out of three at 8-ball," he chuckled ruefully. "I have to find her and tell her," he declared as he hastily stood up.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. I don't know if now is the best time to tell her," Uhura warned, taking his arm to stop him.

"Wha--why shouldn't I tell her right away how I feel about her?" McCoy asked, confused.

"She may not be in the right frame of mind to hear it right now. Think about, Dr. McCoy. She gathered up her courage to ask you to be her date to the dance. When you hesitated to answer, her brain told her not only was your answer 'no', but that you didn't reciprocate her feelings. That's why she bolted out of here, she was trying to protect herself from embarrassment, from her heart being broken any further. Give her some time, then try and talk with her again," Uhura advised.

"How long should I give her?" McCoy asked.

"Try again after a couple of days, Doctor. She should be ready to talk by then," Uhura replied, gently patting his arm.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You checked your notes again, frustrated that the data was not matching up with the results. Irritated, you pushed away from the table and flopped onto a chair. You closed your eyes as your fingers massaged your temples, trying to stave off the impending headache.

"Are you all right, Lieutenant?" Cmdr. Spock asked. "It is late, and I have observed that your evenings are usually spent with Dr. McCoy. May I ask why you are here instead, working?"

You took a deep breath. "I'm fine, Cmdr. Spock. Just trying to keep my headache at bay, that's all," you replied, managing a weak smile.

"If you are feeling a pain in your head, I am certain Dr. McCoy can relieve it with a hypospray," Spock suggested.

"Not when he's the cause of the headache," you muttered.

A puzzled look crossed Spock's face. "I do not understand. Is there some sort of problem in your relationship with Dr. McCoy?" he inquired.

You took a deep breath before explaining the events of the afternoon, beginning with Capt. Kirk's assignment of the Valentine's dance. Then you told him about asking Leonard to be your date for the dance, and how mortified you were when he declined your request. "The only relationship I have with Dr. McCoy is one of friendship. Though my feelings for him have gone beyond the friend level, I should have known better that his do not, and likely never will."

"To assume that Dr. McCoy does not think of you as more than a friend without his express verbal confirmation is not logical," Spock replied. "You must ask him how he feels about you."

"Since when are the human heart's desires logical? Anyway, I'm sure I've already embarrassed myself enough for one day. Permission to return to my quarters?" you asked.

"Permission granted, Lieutenant. I sincerely hope that your personal difficulties with Dr. McCoy will soon be resolved," Spock offered. "It is also not logical for two people as compatible as the two of you to be separated."

"Thank you, Commander," you remarked. "For your counsel and your understanding." You gave him a small smile, then left the lab.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You had almost reached your quarters when the captain requested you to come to his Ready Room. "On my way, Captain," you replied, tapping your communication badge. In your head you grumbled that you hoped his request had something to do with real work and nothing to do with Dr. McCoy.

In the captain's office, you were briefed on an upcoming Away mission, in which you would play a part. A fairly routine mission, you were tasked with gathering soil and mineral samples that would be catalogued upon returning to the Enterprise.

The area where your team would be working had been declared as deserted. That meant you would not be at risk of encountering any difficulties from any local inhabitants of the planet. All in all, a good mission to help me gain experience as part of an Away Team, you thought as you stepped onto the transporter pad.

You also hoped that going on this mission would also help you sort out your feelings about Leonard and figure out your next move. As much as you didn't want to, you were going to have to distance yourself from him. It'll only be for a couple of days, you reasoned. When I get back, Len and I should probably have a talk about what happened and what it means for us going forward. Decision made, you picked up your PADD and reviewed the parameters of the Away mission.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

For the past two days, the MedBay environment was not the most pleasant place to be. Dr. McCoy had been more demanding and grumpier than usual. His staff had no idea that his thoughts revolved around you and how badly he needed to talk to you. He was trying to do as Uhura suggested, by giving you time to yourself. When he could no longer wait to speak to you and confess his feelings, he put Dr. M'Benga in charge and left the MedBay to find you.

He checked your quarters first, but when there was no answer, he figured either you weren't there, or you knew it was him and didn't want to answer. He left and headed down to the conference room, but no one there had seen you for the past couple of days. Finally, he tried the lab, praying to find you there. When he asked Spock where you were, nothing could've prepared him for the answer he received.

"What do you mean, she's on the Away Team?" McCoy demanded.

"I should think my response is fairly self-explanatory, Doctor," Spock replied.

McCoy rolled his eyes. "She's not ready for an Away mission yet, anything could go wrong down there!" he exclaimed.

"On the contrary, the Commander has proven to be more than competent in performing her duties. The captain and I felt that this relatively low-risk mission was the perfect one to introduce her to this aspect of her duties," Spock explained.

"Since when does something deemed 'low-risk' ever turn out that way? You don't understand, Spock, I can't lose her," McCoy implored. "Not before I've had a chance to tell her I love her," he whispered.

A faint smile graced Spock's features. "It appears I was correct in my theory regarding your feelings towards her," he answered. His tone that could almost be considered smug, if not for the fact that he was half-Vulcan. At the confused look on Leonard's face, Spock relayed the conversation the two of you had after he'd found you in the lab working.

"So she cares about me like I care about her," McCoy murmured. "What time are they scheduled to be back? I have to be there right when she gets back so I can tell her how I feel. I've already wasted too much time," he muttered, then jumped up from his chair. Before he could walk out of the lab, Capt. Kirk was at the door.

"Good, you're both here. The Away Team is returning to the ship ahead of schedule. It appears that they ran into some problems on the planet's surface. Something about a run-in with a band of native inhabitants," Kirk explained. "Possible weapons discharges and there may be injuries," he reluctantly revealed.

"StarFleet's report stated that the area in which the Away Team would be working was declared as deserted," Spock pointed out. "There should have been no reason for any discharge of weapons."

"You see?? This is exactly what I was talking about, Spock!" McCoy exclaimed, his arms waving in the air. "How could you send her down there, Jim? She's not ready for something like this," McCoy snapped.

"I chose the team based on their skills and how it matched the intel we were given. Do you really believe I like putting people I care about in harm's way??" Kirk retorted sharply. "I have a job to do, but so do the two of you. And right now, the Away Team is depending on you to carry out those duties to the best of your ability. The personal stuff can be sorted out later, all right?" Kirk barked. "For now, let's just get everyone home and safe."

Spock and McCoy nodded and each of them went their separate ways to begin assisting in the missions aftermath. Kirk was on his way back to the bridge, while Spock was gathering his equipment. "Captain?" McCoy called out before Kirk had fully exited the lab.

"What is it, Bones?" Kirk asked wearily.

McCoy walked over to join his captain at the door. "I'll be in the MedBay, standing by for any casualties," he replied, then started down the hall.

"Thank you, Doctor. And Bones?" Kirk added, causing McCoy to turn and catch Kirk's gaze. "She'll be all right. Besides, you probably owe her a dance, right?" he smirked.

"Among other things, Jim," McCoy admitted before finally resuming his path to the MedBay.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When McCoy returned to the MedBay, it was a flurry of activity. The casualties had already arrived, only three of whom were being worked on by multiple teams. Head Nurse Christine Chapel met him near the entrance to give him a PADD with a rundown of the injuries. He had just started scanning the list when he heard, "DOCTOR!! Dr. McCoy, we need you over here!!"

McCoy all but sprinted to BioBed #3 and was shocked at the sight before him. You were the injured party, with a stab wound to your left shoulder that had seemed to stop bleeding. There was a moderate head laceration near your hairline, but its bleeding also looked to be under control. However, it was the 6-inch gash across your stomach that was of utmost concern, because it was still steadily leaking blood.

"Oh darlin'," McCoy whispered as he pushed your hair back from your face and tucked it behind your ear.

"Hey, Dr. McCoy," you rasped, which sent you into a minor coughing fit.

"Shh, take it easy, sugar. We're going to take good care of you, get you all patched up good as new," he soothed.

"Len....'m sorry....about earlier," you wheezed but were thrown into another coughing session. "Ow, it hurts," you whimpered.

"Hold on, sweetheart, I'll get ya something to take away the hurt," McCoy promised. One of the nurses promptly handed him the hypospray containing the pain med. Leonard gently rolled your head to the side for better access to your neck. He pushed your hair out of the way and pressed the hypospray to your skin and delivered the pain medication.

When McCoy withdrew the instrument, he was startled when he saw your soulmark behind your left ear, a starburst that matched the mark on his wrist. It was you. You were his soulmate, the one he should've waited for and he was the one you were waiting for. As he stood next to you, he felt the bond between you grow, as it sent a wave of warmth through his body.

You somehow found his hand and took it in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze before dropping it. The movement and seeing your hand hang limply at your side was enough to snap Leonard back into action and tend to your injuries. "All right, let's get this bleeding stopped so we can close up this gash and clean up these other wounds," McCoy ordered, getting back to the task at hand.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

For some reason, you couldn't move your right hand due to some sort of weight on top of it. You were having a hard time opening your eyes as well, though you did manage to crack them open halfway. There was an IV in your left arm and as for your right side, you smiled when you saw a familiar crop of dark hair. Leonard was hunched over the edge of your bed, his head resting on his elbows and covering your hand. You could only imagine how tired he must be after the events of the past few hours.

The Away mission was your first since you came aboard the Enterprise, and not exactly the low-risk scenario as mentioned in the file. The briefing said the area had been declared uninhabited, but the natives you encountered proved otherwise. Some of their weapons were rudimentary by StarFleet's standards, while others looked confiscated from other unsuspecting visitors.

You were the first to be attacked, by a stab to your left shoulder and blow to the head, then all hell broke loose. The wound in your midsection was caused when you stepped in to defend a fellow crew member. You were relieved when you saw the familiar surroundings of the MedBay, and even more relaxed when Leonard's face appeared. However, you'd have given anything to take away the pain and worry you saw in his eyes as he hovered above you, assessing your injuries.

Gingerly, you felt around on the bed for the call button, not wanting to disturb the doctor sleeping at your side. Your slight movement caused him to lift his head and for his eyes to immediately zero in on yours. A sleepy yet relieved smile graced his face as he slowly reached up with his right hand to cup your cheek. "Hi," he whispered.

"Hi," you whispered back. "How long have I been out?"

"About twelve hours," he answered. "You had me worried there, sweetheart," he murmured. "I thought I wasn't going to get the chance to tell you something very important."

"I'm here now, though. What is it you wanted to tell me?" you asked. You shuffled around in your bed, trying to raise yourself to a more upright position. Leonard saw what you were doing and helped to rearrange the pillows and angle of the bed to where you wanted it.

Leonard returned in his chair and pointed it so that he was gazing directly at you. He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it. "Ever since Jim handed me your file, I knew there was something special about you. I felt it when we shook hands in that transporter room, and I think you felt it too," he replied.

You nodded. "Felt like electricity shooting up my arm," you smiled.

"Exactly. The more I got to know you through the time we spent together, the more I believed in the idea of a soulmate. I only dared to hope you were mine. I saw the mark behind your ear, so now I know you that are the one I belong with in this life. Even without that, darlin', I fell for you anyway. Your kindness, generosity, your gentle spirit and so many more reasons are why I love you," Leonard remarked.

You could've been knocked back unconscious with a feather. Of all things you thought would happen when you woke up, a love confession from Leonard wasn't anywhere near the list. Although it made you happy to hear that he loved you in return, there was also a part of you that was having doubts.

Leonard mentioned that he'd seen your soulmark, and that he'd fallen for you anyway. Jim knew about the matching marks, and how you wanted Leonard to love you for who you were, not some cosmic tattoo. You'd put your heart on the line once when you asked him to the dance, and it didn't end well. Did you dare take that kind of chance again?

"Sweetheart, please say something," he implored hoarsely.

"Guess this means you owe me a dance?" you replied with a watery smile, as you decided to take the leap. "Len, of course I love you, and not because of some mark put on us by Fate. You are the one I've been searching for, and you're well worth waiting for."

That was all the confirmation Leonard needed, and more. He stood up from his chair and walked around to the left side of your bed. You scooted over a bit to leave room for him to sit on the edge of your mattress. Leonard placed a hand on either side of your face and tilted your head up to meet his gaze. As his left thumb gently caressed your cheek, you latched your hands to his wrists, with your finger tracing over his soulmark.

Leonard leaned his head towards you, tenderly brushing his lips over yours at first, then returning with more passion. His soft yet insistent lips moved with determination, expressing the depth of his emotions for you. When he nipped at your bottom lip, you gasped in surprise, creating the perfect opening for him to slip his tongue in to explore your mouth. Your sweet sound of pleasure that escaped seemed only to spur him on.

The kiss broke before the alarms could be set off on the BioBed for your elevated heart rate or any other escalated vital signs. Leonard leaned back slightly to give himself and you a chance to catch your breaths. He gingerly brushed the hair back from your face and tucked it behind your ear. "So beautiful," he whispered.

"And all yours," you whispered back. Your hand drifted up for your fingers to run through his dark locks, your nails scratching his scalp. The gesture earned you a deep sigh from him and he closed his eyes in contentment. "Have been for a while now, you know," you added. "I love you, Leonard McCoy."

Leonard opened his eyes and smiled softly. "And I'm all yours, my body and soul belongs to you. I love you too, sweetheart," he remarked as he touched his forehead to yours.

The two of you stayed like that, holding each other, until the sound of a throat being cleared broke the silence. Leonard turned his head slightly then rolled his eyes at seeing Capt. Kirk and Cmdr. Spock. The captain wore a look of smug satisfaction at seeing his two friends finally getting together. On the other hand, Spock's face held a look of concern about your recovery from your injuries.

"Guess you can't outrun Fate, can you, Bones?" Kirk crowed. "Seriously, though. I'm happy for you two," he winked.

Spock turned to you. "It would seem that you have received sufficient confirmation of Dr. McCoy's feelings towards you, correct?" he asked.

"Complete confirmation, Spock," you answered. "Did you come to gloat too, or was there something else you needed?" you inquired.

"Vulcans do not gloat. I am merely checking up on the health of one of my team members. It is fortunate that Dr. McCoy was able to successfully treat your injuries and put you on the road to recovery," Spock observed.

"Fortunate indeed," you concurred. Off to the side, you spied Uhura making her way to your bedside under what looked like quite a head of steam.

"I leave you two alone for five minutes, and you're down here causing trouble. Hi there honey, Dr. McCoy," Uhura greeted you and Leonard. Her words to you and Leonard were in direct contrast to those she aimed at Kirk and Spock. "All right, these two need their rest, so off you go. Bye sweetie," she winked. After your friends exited the MedBay, you and Dr. McCoy breathed a sigh of relief.

"Never want to be on her bad side," Leonard quipped. "Alone at last," he murmured, brushing the back of his knuckles on your cheek.

"Just the two of us now," you replied. You shuffled over further in your bed to make room for Leonard. He settled in next to you, curling his arm around you and guiding your head to rest on his shoulder. You slung your arm around his midsection and snuggled into his warm embrace. "Sweet dreams, Len. I love you," you mumbled.

"Goodnight, my love," he whispered, kissing your temple and closing his eyes.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @marvelouslytrekking @spacedancer1701 @anna-phora @hailbop1701 @writercole @lassie-bird @huffle-pissed @phoenixisred @wayward-dreamer @erindiggory @strangesgirl @dumpsterhippie @genevablog26 @lokis-deares @medicatemedrmccoy​

[midchelle]

Northern Songs & NEMS in 1969

I wrote this up to get my head around the business side of things surrounding the breakup and I thought I'd throw it up here for all you people who don't feel like wading through You Never Give Me Your Money/The Love You Make.

Brian had managed The Beatles via NEMS, which is to say that their contract was with NEMS and not Brian himself. The group didn't want to be managed by Clive Epstein and didn't care for Robert Stigwood (who had become partners with Brian, which the Beatles didn't learn till August '67) because he'd rejected them in '62. After the contract expired in September 1967, the group decided to manage themselves. NEMS was jointly managed by Clive Epstein and Robert Stigwood for a while until they split fairly amicably. Clive retained NEMS. The inheritance tax for the holding was due on March 31, 1969, and he did not have the money to pay it.

In early 1969, Clive informed The Beatles that he was looking to sell NEMS*. Paul asked the Eastmans for advice, who told him they should borrow money from EMI to buy NEMS outright. The reasoning being: after Brian's death, it came to light that NEMS was entitled to 25% of the record sales for the next nine years. Owning NEMS would mean the company could no longer claim commission from them. However, Allen Klein advised the group not to go ahead with the purchase, pointing out that the loan they took out from EMI would be difficult to repay.

Paul favoured the Eastmans as the group's managers, while the other three preferred Klein. The Eastmans had several things going against them:

They were Paul's brother and father-in-law and would therefore be biased in his favour.

They were more 'class-conscious' people, which means they owned Picassos and wore suits all the time. Paul was attracted to this kind of thing while John and George were repelled by it.

They made several tactical errors while dealing with Klein and the rest of the group.

When John Eastman, Klein and The Beatles all met for the first time to discuss the acquisition of NEMS, Eastman went in on Klein for all his crooked dealings (he had been accused of insider trading** with a company he owned and had been in trouble with the IRS for failing to file tax returns.) He must've expected Klein to fire back at him in the same fashion but, as per Peter Doggette's book, he 'calmly defused the row,' making Eastman look like a psycho and Klein a reasonable, victimised man. This basically only served to solidify the other three's (John's) support for Klein, but for the time being, they were going to try to work together: Klein was to produce a statement of The Beatles' financial situation, and the Eastmans were appointed legal advisors to Apple Corps.

The arrangement was doomed from the start because Klein wasn't exactly being cooperative with the Eastmans, sending them bundles of documents of no importance whatsoever. Things only got worse after Lee Eastman wrote Clive Epstein to suggest a meeting where they could discuss, among other things, the 'propriety' of the negotiations that Brian carried out with EMI on the group's behalf in '66. This incensed Clive, because what do you mean propriety? Are you calling my dead brother a crook? And he went off and sold Queenie Epstein's 70% stake in NEMS to a Leonard Richenberg of Triumph Investments.

As a reminder, NEMS took a 25% commission on The Beatles royalties. That company is now majority owned by Some Guy. A quarter of The Beatles' earnings are lining the pockets of Some Guy. This was a huge blow to the Eastmans. The Beatles told EMI that all their royalties (including NEMS' 25%) should be sent to their own bankers, but, confused, EMI threw up their hands and decided to withhold the money until they sorted out the issue.

We're up to about February/March 1969 now. Apple is still haemorrhaging money and The Beatles' main revenue source has been blocked off. And we haven't even gotten into the Northern Songs fiasco yet.

Note - pie charts NOT to scale!

Northern Songs went public in February 1965 to reduce its income tax burden and the 1,250,000 shares on offer sold out in sixty seconds. At the time of flotation, John, Paul, Dick James, and Charles Silver (partner of Dick James - no not that way) all had 15% stakes in the company. Dick James Music and NEMS both held 7.5% stakes, and George and Ringo each had 1.6% stakes. In June 1968, George got rid of his shares entirely which, like Ringo's, had by then whittled down to 0.8%.

The situation by 1969 was basically what you see above. As you all know, Dick James and Charles Silver sold their shares to ATV in March 1969, giving them 35% of the company and the majority stake. The Beatles and Co. could only cobble together 30%. But if they could get Consortium, a group that held a 14% stake in Northern Songs, to sell its shares to them, they could take back control of the company.

At the same time, relations within the group continued to deteriorate. The Eastmans advised Paul to not add his block of shares to John's as collateral for the loan they needed for their takeover bid and Klein offered his £750,000 worth of shares in MGM to make up for it. He also informed John that Paul had been buying more shares in Northern Songs. As things stood, John had 644,000 and Paul had 751,000.

While it was true that Paul had increased his standing in Northern Songs on advice of the Eastmans, he couldn't have bought much more than 1,000 extra shares. The real reason for the discrepancy was that part of John's stake, roughly 100,000 shares and 2% of the company in total, had been put aside for Cyn and Julian. Roughly the same distribution in shares had existed since at least 1966*** and Cyn had been allowed to retain the 2% after the divorce. But, if you take that fact out of the equation and just present the massive difference in their stakes and the fact that Paul had been buying more shares, it looks quite damning. After this meeting, John, George, and Ringo effectively banished the Eastmans from Apple.

Meanwhile, since The Beatles had already fulfilled their 1967 deal with EMI, Klein got to work on negotiating a new deal for the group with the blessings of all four Beatles.**** He also got permission from the group to go into Apple and start cutting redundancies. By the end of April, he had drawn up a three-year management contract for The Beatles to sign. The terms were:

ABKCO (company run by Allen and Betty Klein) is appointed exclusive business manager to Apple Corps on behalf of The Beatles and their companies

ABKCO recieves 20% of Apple's income before tax. The percentage would continue for any deals signed while the contract was in force, with a few exceptions. • He would not receive any percentage of The Beatles' royalties until he negotiates a new deal for the group. • He would only receive 20% of the increase royalty, not the full rate. • He could only claim 10% of the income generated by Apple Records

Apple would pay the expenses of Klein and any other ABKCO staff working on their behalf.

The four of them initially agreed to the deal. Loony Toons-type hijinks occurred when the group attempted to sign the contract. It was first brought to John. The version he signed had last minute clause added in by the group's advisors that made the document into a basis for further discussion instead of a binding deal. John showed off the signed contract to Klein, who wanted the clause removed. By this point, the guy who brought the contract to John, lawyer Peter Howard, was already on the way to George's house and discovered that he had left behind the document George needed to sign. George also wanted to phone Paul before he did, but Paul had changed his number and hadn't told anyone, so he couldn't reach him. The lawyer got George to sign a carbon copy, which was then brought to Ringo, then to John and Klein, who added their signatures.

The deal now had to be ratified by Apple's board of directors. When the Beatles later met, Paul was upset because the deal had been signed without him being notified and he thought Klein's percentage was too big. Klein told the board that ABKCO's insisted he got The Beatles' approval that day so there was no time for further negotiations.***** Paul wanted them to wait until his lawyers had drafted another agreement. However, only three directors were required to agree, so John, George, and Neil Aspinall went ahead and ratified the deal. Klein was officially the manager of John, George, and Ringo, but not Paul.

On a brighter note, the NEMS situation was finally resolved in July 1969. The arrangement was:

NEMS drops all claims of representing The Beatles.

The Beatles sell their 10% stake in NEMS.

NEMS was paid a lump sum of £750, 000 as compensation for all the money they might've made managing The Beatles up to 1972.

NEMS took 5% of The Beatles' royalties between 1972 and 1976 - the 5% of North American royalties (which comprised 75% of their global revenue) would come from Klein's commission.

Paul attempted to stage a weak protest against Klein's rule by threatening to pull out of the deal unless Klein agreed to not take any payments for negotiating the deal over the past five months. Klein confronted him at Abbey Road where he, George, and Ringo were working (John had crashed his car in Scotland) and called his bluff. Paul backed down; the deal was signed and the £1.3 million on hold from EMI was finally released.

A few months later, it looked like all the Beatles' business woes would soon be resolved: Consortium were willing to sell their shares. The Beatles sans George (missing because of Louise's brain tumour diagnosis, I assume) and Klein met on September 19 to discuss how the board of Northern Songs would look when they took control. Linda took photos to assure Consortium that The Beatles were all speaking with one voice. I assume these are the pictures:

John Eastman pushed for Paul to have the same number of votes as the other three combined, which baffled everyone - including Paul. However, it all turned out to be for nought when Consortium threw in their stake with ATV. Northern Songs was lost. The next day, the group reconvened to sign The Beatles' new contract with Capitol****** and John Lennon left The Beatles.

* Clive or someone had renamed NEMS Nemperor Holdings at this point, but I’m going to keep using NEMS because this is tedious enough without companies changing names.

** Insider trading is buying or selling a company's stock in accordance with information that is not publically available. For example:

My friends and I are betting on how many hot dogs my cousin David can eat within twenty minutes. Everyone else has to place bets based on guesses, but I know from growing up with him that Dave gets sick after eating seven hot dogs at once, and I bet accordingly.

*** Why didn't John know this? Aside from because he was paranoid, already suspicious of Paul and the Eastmans, and probably on a ridiculous cocktail of drugs, I think he might genuinely not have remembered. It's possible that his accountant called him at some point, said hey, do you want to put some shares aside for your family? And he just said yeah, went straight back to sleep, and it had slipped entirely from his mind by the time he woke up.

**** Per Klein, in the middle of negotiations John Eastman sent a message to Capitol saying that Klein does not represent Paul in any way, which was not true.

***** ABKCO was singlehandedly controlled by Allen Klein

****** A very lucrative deal. It gave them 25% of the wholesale price, a higher royalty rate than any other recording group.

[chrispineofficial]

i don’t love a lot of the phrasing going around in the posts about the leonard cohen biopic fiasco so i’m avoiding reblogging but please know i hope bradley cooper dies. badly.

[harleyshahas]

Coldflash wip

God, it hurt to look at the kid. All that selfless heroism and naive bravery. Too damn good for Central City, too damn pure. He was a better man than Leonard could ever be, too fragile for him to ever put his corrupted hands on. That bright smile flashed at him (ha) from under long lashes, cheeks red, and bright eyes positively glowing. Len didn't deserve that look. He didn't deserve Barry's love.

And that was it, wasn't it? Len was in love with him. Had been for a long time, if he was honest, ever since that fiasco with his father, ever since Barry came to him offering to help his sister, to help him, had taken a fucking bullet for him. Len had been in love with Barry since the moment Lewis Snart shot at him and Len had no choice but to leave him there only to see him standing again proudly wearing the Flash suit. Watch as the Flash stared his father down in a way that he still couldn't. Len had no problems icing the man once he knew Lisa was safe. Not just for himself and his sister, but for Barry as well.

Then Barry had to go and visit him in Iron Heights and flash that bright smile with those flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes and Len knew from that moment he was gone. He had fallen hard for this unbelievably selfless 'hero' and being the selfish person that he was, he wanted Barry all to himself. And strike him down for a hopeless fool, but he wanted to be better when he got out. A part of him wanted to prove to himself that he deserved the Flash's love because he went and warned him about Mardon and Jesse, and he went and convinced Mick to join the Legends with him, and he went and played at being hero and found that he didn't quite hate it. All the while, he wondered when it would be enough to prove to himself that he could earn Barry's love.

He never got the chance to figure it out. He had to go and be selfish again because he couldn't stand to watch Mick get blown up, couldn't stand the thought of losing his best friend. And he refused to be the plaything of a bunch of old time-traveling assholes, so he selfishly took Mick's place so he could prove to himself that he could be a hero and save his team.

And he was blown up for his efforts.

[3lizab3t]

✏️ he’s still my dearest most irrelevant silly ✏️

[boricuacherry-blog]

Marvin was ingesting larger and larger quantities of cocaine, turning love into hate, purity into perversion, trust into jealousy. In spite of it all, he held out hope. "Once my man wins the crown," said Gaye, "everything's going to be all right." He was referring to his fighter, Andy Price, who, on September 28, 1979, in front of a national ABC TV audience, took on welterweight champion Sugar Ray Leonard.

Marvin had Big John drive Mother, Marvin III, and him to Las Vegas on the bus. Diana Ross was headlining at Caesar's Palace, the same locale as the fight. Berry Gordy flew in for the festivities. Gaye viewed the proceedings as a moment of personal triumph; this was his comeback.

"I'd trained two other fighters," the singer said, his left eye still puffy from the cop's punch on the beach, "and they both got whipped bad. Each time I'd put my heart into them - they were really me up there fighting - but now I was sure that with Andy I'd found a winner." The night before the bout, Marvin and Mother attended Diana's show, which was taped for a TV special. Ross introduced Marvin and Mrs. Gay and, during the audience sing-along section of 'Reach Out and Touch,' Diana asked Marvin to croon a couple of lines. He did so reluctantly. "Actually," he told me later, "I was dying for her to ask me on stage and do a duet on 'All for One,' my all-time favorite Ashford and Simpson song. But Diana's funny about sharing the spotlight, especially with me." Considering the trouble they had recording duets, Diana had good reason to be cautious with Marvin.

Minutes before the fight the next night, Howard Cosell told a nationwide audience that expectations for Marvin Gaye's fighter were high. This could be the surprise upset of Sugar Ray's otherwise remarkable career. Marvin was feeling anxious, confident but concerned about sitting in the front row next to Berry, an ex-boxer who had proven himself in the ring, and Diana, a fight fan herself - they, the very people, who needed to know that Marvin Gaye was still a champ.

Beyond ego, it was also a question of money. "If Price could win," said Gaye, "I was looking at millions of dollars in future revenues. With one blow, I could win the world's respect and clean up my whole financial mess. People said I couldn't do it; well, that night I was going to show them I could. This was going to be my knock-out punch."

The punch came, but from Sugar Ray, not Price. "Andy was lost out there," said Dave Simmons, who as Marvin's guest, sat next to Price's mother during the fight. "All the lights and glitter and glamour of Vegas got to him. He was in shock. Sugar came out there and hit him and hit him and hit him and kept hitting him until he crumbled." Leonard made it look easy, knocking out Price in two minutes and fifty-four seconds in the first round. Marvin absorbed every last punishing punch. He was devastated, depressed beyond hope. The $40,000 purse for Price - as 0pposed to Sugar Ray's $300,000 - didn't come close to solving Marvin's financial problems. It was hardly compensation for the blow to his ego. In the midst of this mood, he had to perform. He had promised to sing before the main event - the Ernie Shavers-Larry Holmes heavyweight championship fight - which followed Leonard-Price. On national television, his dress shirt open at the collar, his tie pulled down, his sloped eyes half-closed and filled with disappointment and hurt, he delivered a soul-searching rendition of the national anthem, turning a hymn of hope into a cry of despair.

Cosell complimented Marvin's pipes, but no praise could mitigate Gaye's blues. His best bet had been beaten down. This was to be the turning point, the miracle. Instead, in Marvin's mind he had experienced the most visible and spectacular fiasco of his public life. The final blow, though, didn't come from a boxer, but from a singer. "Jan ran off with Teddy Pendergrass," Marvin told me. "I set myself up for it, just like I set myself up for getting beat by Sugar Ray. But I didn't realize what it would do to me. I couldn't take it. I became sick, seriously sick. This was supposed to be the end of a long, bad period, but it was just the beginning."

-David Ritz

[blue-opossum]

Dreams as Delusions: Another King Street Fallacy

        Dreams as Delusions: Another King Street Fallacy

        Wednesday morning, 17 April 2024

        My King Street dreams have had an incredible variation of astounding falsehoods regarding the natural virtual amnesia of the dream state (to prevent associations with waking life to avoid memory corruption). I last saw the King Street house in 1994 (though I had not lived there that year).

        In this one, I have a current real-world recall of my family but not the recollection that they never lived in America. In this dream, I also do not recall, at any point, my former landlady being deceased.

        Although I recall my former landlady, I do not have a viable recollection of my friend Leonard living here as in similar dreams.

        An unusual scenario unfolds with a security guard entering "my" second-floor room where I lived in real life years ago (the middle room of the east side of the mansion). He says I can no longer live here because I owe rent. Even so, I explain how Zsuzsanna and our children also live in the house (though down the hall). Zsuzsanna can pay their rent because she works in La Crosse. This aspect seems to be justification for me living here even though she and our children live in different rooms, that is, that the rent equates to being for all rooms, not just one. So, she would be paying the same rent with or without me living in “my” room or our older son and daughter in theirs.

        Supposedly, my landlady had hired the security guard but did not tell him to kick me out. I see her for a short time in the outcome.

        This dream had a completely different set of false associations and false recollections than my later dream - "Another Amnesic King Street Fiasco" on 19 April 2024. The only similar part of the two narratives implies that I should not be living in the King Street mansion. This factor is true (as I have lived in Australia since February 1994), but I have also had dreams without this attribute. Ultimately, it is a factor in my depth of sleep and dreaming mode.

        Which memory patterns are active (though always wrong in detail) and which are missing (which is often most of them), has incredible variation from dream to dream, even in the same sleep cycle.

        Dreams are as wrong as possible (sans transpersonal liminal space - which is technically not originating from the dream state) to an extent to which I have always been amazed, even in high levels of lucidness. The loss of real-world memories and cognizance has presented even in light sleep, but not in every dream.

        This dream had no vivification factor regarding my otherwise predictable vestibular response to R.E.M. atonia with that incredibly realistic but imaginary physical essence. In this dream, protoconsciousness was a type of formal authority, but this attribute of protoconsciousness has (to my memory) not appeared in any of the thousands of previous phony King Street narratives - not in this specific way.

[izzysarchivedblogs]

[ tiles ] one muse finds the other sitting on the floor and joins them.

@crisispider // star trek verse, but clint barton is still unhinged about john walker

DRY DOCK ⸻ The Enterprise was is need of repairs, and while they were stationed there was SOMETHING he hadn't been listening all that much as it would not apply to him, being a rank below WHATEVER. All he knew was that he would be at the helm while work was being done on the ship assisting with that.

WORKING ⸻ Long and draining day, that doesn't feel like it was coming to an end until the senior officers are back. He should be relieved soon, possibly within in the next two hour or three hours. THE PROBLEM THAT ARISES is that as more bodies enter the bridge there's additional voice mixed in with the nebulous sound coming from somewhere in the room.

IT'S A VOICE THAT HE WOULD RECOGNIZE ANYWHERE.

Vision getting dark, lungs losing all their air, and he vaguely remembers SOMETHING TIGHT AND CRUSHING AROUND HIS THROAT. Clint's reaching a hand up to his neck to try to pull at invisible hand. . . . That can't be right, must be a different person and similar voice.

The voice talks again, LAUGHS int good humor to something THE CAPTAIN has said. HE CAN'T BE THAT FUNNY. ⸻ Just a similar sounding voice is enough to IRK HIM TO HIGH HELL AND BACK. His hearing wasn't ever good anyways, so he is trying to give the benefit of the doubt but IT TALKS AGAIN.

His head turn to see ⸻ HIS VISION GOES RED. . . . Up on his feet in no time flat, there is no logic or reason. No preamble or warning, blue eyes would recognize that face anywhere, that voice anywhere. . . . HIS FIST MAKES CONTACT WITH JOHN WALKER'S JAW BEFORE ANYONE HAS ANYTIME TO REACT.

Full force thrown into the punch, and the everyone on the bridge is an uproar. CLINT KNOWS WHAT HE DID ⸻ A hand goes up, than he's ducking on pure instinct to avoid being grabbed.

❝ DON'T ⸻ I FUCKING KNOW ! ⸻ I'M OUT! ⸻ SULU, I'LL COVER DOUBLE LATER! ❞ He knows the trouble he was in, but that had felt good and gratifying to punch of the son of the bitch. Clint knew the second he was any sort of disorderly he'd be thrown out and ordered off.

He's a STORM OF FURY, pure filtered rage and he makes for a menace down the halls. . . . and DAMMIT, HE WANTS A DRINK. It's the first time that he has seen JOHN WALKER THE FUCKING DICK since his days at the Academy.

IT IS STILL FRESH IN HIS MIND ⸻ THE MAN ALMOST KILLS HIM (and he was sure he had been trying) and Clint ends up the more in trouble for the whole FIASCO as it got called? IT BOILS BILE IN STOMACH.

He ends up in his shared quarters with Peter, and the RAGE SEES RED IN HIS EYES. Clint's destruction, more destructive that he had been at meeting face-to-face with his attempted murderer again (one of a few in his life ⸻ see he did not need the vastness of space insanity and danger when his life on earth had been plenty).

LEONARD'S CABINET WAS EASY TO ACCESS ⸻ The urge is too strong, but he swallows it down. His throat dry. TOO DRY. Clint was wanting, needing, jonesing, just one drink, but he can't drink. . . .

No alcohol to drown the violence, so their quarters get wrecked. Pillows through, fist to things , and his hand hurts. Cut on something. ALL THAT ANGER AND THE PAIN. Least he didn't drink, took it somewhere safe.

Eventually it does subside, and he just sits on the floor. STEWING BITTERLY. What the hell was he doing aboard and how did he get rid of him? Clint's propped his arms up on his knees and he tries to breathe, wait out of the PANIC that came up as well.

His life had already been a wreck and John Walker had been the number one cause he almost didn't make it through the Academy, almost wasn't alive. That feeling doesn't simply go away.

Ignores about any and all comms to himself, until Peter comes in and Clint's gone time blind in his uproar of emotions. THIS WAS BAD FUCKING NEWS. He knew he needed to control himself better, and that this was going to cause him a lot of noise and trouble.

PETER'S FACE HURTS HIS HEART ⸻ That look of worry and panic on his features, and Peter knows only that John Walker had been a goddamn shit-stain on his life, almost got him kicked out multiple times but he didn't say a damn thing about being being choked out by him.

❝ I'm sorry for all the trouble I cause. ❞ He tells him, and he moves as Peter comes to crouch next to him to just lean into him, rest his head into his shoulder and sigh. WORST DAY. And he's not looking forward to explaining himself and not being believed again.

[doc-hudson]

Days 5 and 20– Family Ties One-Shot and Short and Sweet One-Shot.

*Louise “Barnstormer” Nash and Paul Leonard Hudson were married before they really were: They’d had a big party, the first time, one with colourful drinks on beautiful glasses, of white and black and swallow laughs, of posing as they pretend not to, of not a single dull moment under the gaze of cameras -the second one, the real deal, had been a much smaller deal, with but a handful of people invited.

*Louise had decided to wear a cream-coloured dress for the ocassion, not particularly caring for white, specially not when she’d already wore that colour once and it seemed just so impractical of a thing to wear to a party, were one would expect to end up stained with this or that.

*Paul had been a minute away from wearing his everyday clothes, but he’d been convinced by his father to put on something semi-formal (that classification he’d never quite understand), “as not to anger the future Miss”, he’d said (even though Louise couldn’t had possibly cared less).

*It started like a bit of a in-joke: a somewhat dizzy Junior had pointed out that he’d expected Smokey to walk either the new wife, or the new groom, down the altar, all father-like. By the second event, they’d decided that it didn’t sound that much of a bad idea after all, not when Louise’s old man already had his chance to do so.

*Thing was, both wife and groom wanted the mechanic-turned-coach to walk them down the aisle, much to everyone else’s amusement; And so, in a bizarre movement, the three had decided to say side by side during the whole ordeal. It wasn’t the strangest thing they’d ever do, really, and it seemed like somewhat natural within the mish-mash of things this second wedding was.

*River had been indignant for weeks. Paul had wanted for Skipper, the friend of his he’d known for the longest, to be his best man during that second wedding -the man, whoever, hadn’t managed to convince his superiors to let him visit the States for the ocassion, leaving River who self-described as “second best man” to take the part.

*River then decided to drink the whole bar dry, in vengeance. It was fair enough, though he’d never let Paul forget about that “second best man” whole fiasco.

*Neither Louise, nor Paul, had been completely sure what they’d wanted to make of it all. The first wedding had to be a cookie-cutter ambiguously-christian thing, there hadn’t been an option: that’s what people wanted to see and that’s what they would have to give them; The second time, whoever, when they could actually choose, they weren’t quite sure if they even wanted any kind of priest around or they should just go for a city clerk.

*They’d ended up being wedded by someone’s cousin who-also-happened-to-be-a-licensed-officiant who didn’t particularly mind adding bits and pieces of a ketubah and some glass breaking to the pre-practised ad-nauseam ambiguously-christian shebang. If anything, it made it feel more like a legit thing, an actual joining of people, of different ideas and traditions, than the first.

*“You know” River had mused, at the end of the day “Hudson Motor Car was bought by Nash-Kelvinator Corp, back on ‘54. Funny that, eh? Seems like you guys were destined to be a thing”.

He’d purposedly left out the part where three years later, the Hudsons would stop being marketable and ultimately, stopped being made, to be slowly forgotten by everyone but a handful of fans -maybe his silence had been for the best.

[ahmed25646]

The economy is a fiasco: what lessons will we learn?

The economy is a fiasco: what lessons will we learn?

Posted on November 9, 2022 – HAS + By Gary Wales. It’s relatively common that what should be recognized as a red flag for major problems is often ignored until things get so bad that it’s almost impossible not to notice them (unless you’re very determined not to see them). Leonard Read channeled such thoughts about the damage that public policy has done to Americans. He even went so far as to…

[bardockarts]

I have a thing for really obscure / loser-adjacent villains, so I am more than happy to give this little guy some love