#consider for a moment if katherine was the artist | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deityoftherain · 6 months ago

Text

chord crush - Scwhip Band AU Fanfic

Rating: Teen

Relationship: M/M, Gen

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 7,578

Summary: Being a musician himself, Fwhip often found himself admiring another's music, even if their style wasn't what he normally went for. When scrolling through their socials after practice, they stumbled upon an influencer who managed to peak their interest the moment he opened his mouth to sing for the camera. Fwhip had expected his infatuation to stop there, but, as luck would have it, that very influencer decided to visit Empires Nightclub during one of the nights WRA was working a gig there...

Written for @djpurple3, my artist, through @mcytblraufest!!!

Full fanfic underneath the cut! Please reblog, leave kudos on the AO3 fic slash notes/likes here on Tumblr, comment either place, and etc if you enjoy the story :D

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Fwhip ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

“Good practice, everyone!” Joey clapped his hands together quickly. “Gem, you were a bit pitchy, and there was some stumbling on timing from a few of you, but only a trained ear like mine would pick that up.” “...Thanks Joey,” Fwhip replied flatly, trying to keep the annoyance out of their tone. Joey could be frustrating to deal with, especially when almost every praise was paired with criticism, but Joey was a good employer and a pretty decent friend deep down. Fwhip tried not to let it bother him too much.

Wither Rose Alliance (WRA for branding purposes) was currently practicing at Empires Nightclub, preparing for the gig they had there the next day. Though they often practiced in Pearl��s garage, when Joey offered them the venue, they’d take it. Getting on the stage they would be performing at allowed them to get a feel of the room and also see for themselves how their new songs bounced off the walls.

Joey waved his hand dismissively. “Get some water in you and start wrapping up. I need you out within the hour so we can start opening. Cod Alliance is supposed to be here soon and I don’t need you all distracting each other.”

Cod Alliance was another rock band that played here regularly. They were more of a punk band, whereas WRA had more folk influences in their music, especially considering they had a violinist. The two bands have known each other for quite awhile, which was unsurprising considering the town they lived in wasn’t that huge and their music styles had some similarities.

“Distract each other?” Sausage gasped dramatically, even as Joey turned away to start setting up. “Why, I would never!”

“Uh-huh, sure you wouldn’t.” Gem snorted with a roll of her eyes. “Last time you and Jimmy saw each other, you got into an argument and ended up making out.”

“It’s not my fault you walked in on us!” Sausage exclaimed with a playful smirk. “You’re just jealous you’re not the one to kiss him. You know, he does this really hot thing with his tongue–”

“Shut up!” Gem pressed her palms against her ears, turning away from him. “Nope! I don’t need to hear this!”

“But Gemmm!” Sausage draped an arm over Gem’s shoulders, blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

Jimmy and Sausage have a very messy and complicated dating history that honestly gave Fwhip a headache to think about. No matter how many times they fought, Sausage always managed to win back Jimmy, even if it was only for a night. Fwhip was aware that Jimmy’s other partners, Katherine, Joel, and Pix, disapproved, but they also couldn’t stop her anymore than the WRA could stop Sausage. Technically, what they were doing didn’t hurt anybody. It just made it extremely awkward for Gem and Pearl to try and foster a relationship beyond friendship with Katherine and Lizzie respectively.

WRA didn’t have any in-band dating going on– at least, not now, but anything could happen in the future– much unlike Cod Alliance. They were in a big string of polyamorous relationships, only further complicated by Fwhip’s bandmates crushing on some of them as well. Fwhip had to admit that he and Jimmy also had a bit of a thing going on at one point, but that had since ended.

Fwhip wasn’t necessarily against being in a polyamorous or open relationship, but he did tend to learn more towards monogamy himself. Part of it was probably due to their grayromantism, making it so they didn’t experience romantic attraction for others very frequently. When it did hit them, though, it usually came at them like a freight train, hard and fast. They still had a hard time identifying it when it came, unfortunately.

Sausage, Gem, and Pearl (they dragged her in at some point) continued to bicker, as they often did, while they put away their instruments. Fwhip shook his head fondly, but he didn’t engage. He would normally love to join in, but he wasn’t feeling up to it at the moment. He finished packing up his guitar before them, so he put in his wireless earbuds and pulled out his phone to scroll through his socials.

Fwhip followed a lot of music related tags, especially ones specific to their area. When browsing through a series of photos and videos, he must have lingered too long on one because one of the videos started to automatically play. The video opened with a melancholic solo guitar, a much more moody style of country music than Fwhip typically listened to, but he found himself drawn in. The allure only increased when the artist began to sing, his voice enchantingly beautiful.

Intrigued, Fwhip clicked open his profile. Their jaw dropped at the follower count for just a second, before they quickly recovered, playing it cool before anyone could ask what he was looking at. He had several thousand more followers than WRA did! Looking a bit deeper, that was no surprise. The account was filled with aesthetic pictures and videos, usually including music and some sort of pretty imagery. WRA’s was more to share information about their gigs than anything else.

The profile belonged to someone named Scott Smajor. Fwhip left the app to search the name on Mezalea Music, the current top music streaming app. Unsurprisingly at this point in his search, Scott was there with a fairly impressive following for an independent artist. Fwhip pressed the shuffle button and they were instantly greeted by Scott’s pretty singing voice. His voice seemed to scratch Fwhip’s brain in all the right places, making them want to melt into it.

They switched back to their social app to put a face to the name and voice. It wasn’t hard to find for there were several recurring photos of who Fwhip assumed was all Scott. The music paused when the video started, showing the singer strumming on an acoustic guitar covered with custom decals. When the singer opened his mouth, Fwhip could instantly tell it was him.

Scott was as stunning as his voice would suggest. He had fair skin that was partly flushed red from exposure to the sun-- almost like he had done it on purpose with blush. His eyes were an icy blue, though his features were soft and sad, not cold. Fwhip wasn’t sure how, but he pulled it off. Scott’s dyed cyan blue hair was wavy and reached down to his shoulders. Fwhip could get lost staring at him forever.

The end of one of Gem’s arm crutches poked Fwhip’s side, startling them out of their trance. They turned off their phone and removed one of their earbuds, looking up at their sister, though music still played in the other ear. “Yes?”

“We’re ready to leave.” Gem jutted her head in Sausage and Pearl’s direction, who were chatting by the door. “I don’t know about you, but I would like to get home and off my feet. You can get distracted by your phone in the car.”

Fwhip opened his mouth to respond when Joey burst through the backstage door.

“Don’t worry,” Fwhip told him, “we were just leaving.” “You’re running slow,” Joey huffed briefly with a shake of his head, “but no matter! Your tardiness benefits me this time. I wanted to be the first to inform you of the competition I’m putting on."

“Competition?” Gem parroted, furrowing her eyebrows. “What competition?”

“A coin flipping competition, duh,” Joey responded before rolling his eyes. “No, dumbass, a music competition. I’m a music gay talking to other musical queers. What else would it be? It’s in three months, but sign-ups are open now. Just got confirmation that we’re good to go, which is why I’m telling you all now.”

“Is there a prize?” Pearl inquired. Pearl had always enjoyed some friendly competition… maybe a little too much. Gem ended up keeping a running tally of stupid bets the band still had active on her phone, twelve and counting, and most of them were Pearl’s fault.

“What kind of competition would it be without a prize?” Joey puffed out his chest, looking extremely pleased with himself. “An old friend of mine is looking for some new talent for his record label, so I told him I have tabs on multiple other bands in the area, especially the ones working at my club. One thing led to another and we’re hosting a competition together. We will have a panel of judges, ticket sales, just everything! It will be absolutely gorgeous and bring in more business for me. It’s a win-win! So, you’ll sign up, yeah?” The four of them glanced between each other, looking for signs of protest, before Sausage spoke up. “Oh, yes, we would love to.”

“Okay, wonderful!” Joey grinned ear to ear. “The sign up form is on Empires’ socials, which I’m sure all of you follow. I expect to see your submission soon or I will have to talk to you again after your shift tomorrow!” “We’ll get right on that,” Fwhip promised. He took one look at Gem and realized by the way she was shuffling on her arm crutches that her fatigue levels were at their limit. It was clear to him that they needed to get a move on. She'd said it was a good day this morning, but rehearsing always took it out of her, and Fwhip could read that off her face easily– especially considering they still lived together. She couldn't hide it from him even if she tried.

“Perfect, now shoo!” Joey flicked his hands out towards them twice. “I’m trying to run a bar here.”

Not wanting to get on his bad side, they did as they were told, scurrying out to Sausage’s car. The four of them chatted about the competition the entire car ride to Fwhip and Gem’s apartment, and Fwhip participated, but he still had Scott Smajor’s music playing in his ear.

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Scott ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

Yelling was, unfortunately, something Scott Smajor was quite familiar with. For as long as he could remember, it had been part of his life. He'd always tried to avoid raised voices as best he could, hoping he'd stay under their radar and that they would forget about him just enough to help him stay out of needing the therapy he likely still should sign up for. His “golden child” avoidance strategy only semi-worked because Xornoth, his older brother, took most of the heat.

Xornoth protected him from a lot. Scott hadn’t always realized it, especially back when their father, Exor, and their uncle, Aeor, got into his head. They each wanted to mold Scott and Xornoth into their own image, absolutely stuck in their own ways. They'd hate to be compared, but they both had a god complex a mile wide and their egos were far too easy to inflate. It was... not easy to live with.

Scott could recall several times (usually when the yelling far escalated beyond simply yelling) where Xornoth would promise that, once he was old enough, he would get them out of there. The yelling in Scott’s life had reduced significantly when Xornoth turned eighteen. He kept true to his promise, taking Scott with him when he left the small farm they lived at for most of their childhoods. They couldn’t afford to move very far (they moved closer to town than the more rural-esque area they resided in their youth) so “home sweet home” wasn’t too far away, but Exor and Aeor tended to stay out of their lives… for the most part, anyway.

“How many times do I need to tell you ‘no’, old man?” Xornoth snapped, his face contorting with fury. He tugged at his long, dyed purple hair, trying to ground himself. Scott noticed a few strands snapped by the action, but he didn’t say anything. He’d had the habit for years; Scott knew it would be hard to shake. “You may have been able to drag me into that shit when I still lived with you, but I’m not facing jail time because you need someone to take the fall.”

Scott quietly picked out a little musical line on his guitar, seeing if he liked how it sounded, before jotting it down in his songwriting notebook. Phrases and half finished phrases hummed from his lips as he thought out loud to himself. It was all a part of his process. Xornoth’s conversation with Exor was merely background noise; Scott was used to finding focus in their chaos.

“‘I wouldn’t put you in harm’s way.’ Oh, you have other guys for that?” Xornoth mocked before scoffing. “Like I believe that, asshole. You know I’ve already been in juvie, I can’t risk– Exor, I swear I will– What kind of father gets their eleven year old to deal drugs? Or brings their thirteen year old along to a fucking armed robbery for ‘experience’? Go bother someone else and stop calling me. I’m tired of blocking your numbers and ignoring your calls.”

Xornoth hung up the phone and tossed it down on the couch. It bounced off of the cushions and landed on the floor, though it didn’t appear damaged in any way. He groaned loudly, practically stomping over to the alcohol cabinet and swinging the door open. Xornoth considered his options for a moment before pulling out some whiskey. He turned toward Scott and held up the bottle. “Do you want any?” “Nope, go for it.” Scott wasn’t in the mood for alcohol, especially not whiskey. His preferred choice of drink was vodka with some sort of fruity mixer in it. Maybe some sort of cocktail, if he was in the mood.

“More for me,” Xornoth murmured, twisting off the cap most of the way before flicking it off. He brought the bottle’s rim up to his lips and shot some back with a sort of gurgling noise Scott recognized as Xornoth’s response to the cheap whiskey’s burning sensation.

“What did he want this time?” Scott inquired, passively strumming a few more chords. Neither Scott nor Xornoth referred to their father as ‘dad’ for he didn’t deserve that title. Exor was strictly referred to with he/him pronouns or by his first name. Well, they occasionally threw in she/her pronouns if they caught him being transphobic. That method managed to kick that “nasty habit” out of him real quick.

“Someone to do his dirty work.” Xornoth plopped down heavily on one of the arm chairs. He took another swig of the whiskey before setting the bottle down on the coffee table. “Tempted to block his new number too, but I don't want him coming over here again. I already had to change the locks this year and I don’t want to do it again.”

Nothing Scott could say would be new information, so he let silence fall between them besides the music coming from his guitar and the sound of pencil against paper.

“I like that tune so far,” Xornoth complimented after a moment, noticeably calmer than before. Either the whiskey had kicked in already or their time sitting peacefully allowed him to blow off enough steam. “Sounds good.” The ends of Scott’s lips twitched up at the praise, a warmth sparking in his chest. He knew his style of music wasn’t exactly Xornoth’s typical taste, so it felt extra pleasant to know Xornoth supported him and his dream of pursuing music. He always had, even when Scott was first starting out. “Thank you. One of the last songs I released got fairly popular, so I want to capitalize on its success and try to get something else out as well. I’ve been trying to fine tune some half-finished songs I’ve been messing around with for a while.”

Xornoth straightened up, his eyes brightening as Scott reminded him of something. He quickly got up to grab something before returning to hand Scott a flier. “There was a guy handing these out when I went to Empires Nightclub the other day.” “I thought you didn’t like that place?” Scott raised an eyebrow, partly amused as he took the flier from Xornoth. “Something about the nightclub’s owner coming on too strong? Or have you changed your mind?”

“Joey’s not that bad. I was just pissed off about something else that night and wasn’t in the mood.” Xornoth scrunched his nose. “I may have over exaggerated, but it’s whatever. Either way, nothing has happened or will ever happen between Joey and I, so don’t even think about it. They just have good drinks for a half decent price, and the music’s pretty alright as well.”

Scott turned his attention toward the flier. It was promoting a band competition with the prize being a record label. Scott would have to look into the fine print, of course, but the initial impression was fairly positive. They seemed to be looking for bands, which didn’t include Scott for he ran solo. Still, checking it out was an excuse to get himself to leave the apartment.

“I’ll check it out,” Scott promised, setting the flier in his guitar case for safekeeping. “Thank you.” “No problem.” Xornoth appeared pleased with himself as he turned to grab the whiskey he had set aside before leaving the living room. He headed toward his bedroom, leaving Scott alone to work on his music in peace.

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Fwhip ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

Fwhip knew they would never get over what it's like to play for a crowd. There was a special type of adrenaline that would pump through their veins that they couldn’t get quite the same doing anything else. Messing around with Gem, Pearl, and Sausage during practice was one thing, but these live gigs were something else entirely.

They were booked for three hours that night: three sets and got a ten minute break in between each. Reaching their first break, Fwhip wiped the sweat from their brow before chugging down a cold bottle of water Joey provided.

His eyes wandered over the crowd, not really paying attention to anything in particular until he caught a flash of cyan sitting in the corner. Fwhip squinted, attempting to focus on the figure and confirm his suspicion.

“Who are you looking at?” Gem asked, hitting the side of her arm crutches against his leg like she often did. Those things helped her walk, yes, but she enjoyed using them as assault weapons. Fwhip must have grown calves of steel at this point because it barely hurt anymore.

“I think the guy sitting over there is Scott Smajor.” Fwhip nodded in Scott’s direction– or they were fairly sure it was Scott, anyway. He had the same blue hair and fair skin. They tried to discern other details, but he was too far away and the lighting didn’t do them any favors.

“That musician guy you’ve been obsessed with?” Gem gave him a knowing smirk before nudging his shoulder. “You should go talk to him.” “What? No!” Fwhip shook his head, waving his hands frantically in front of him. Scott looked busy writing down something in his notebook. Besides, they didn’t have too long before they had to start the next set.

“If you don’t go talk to him, I will,” Gem threatened with a gleam of mischief in her green eyes, and Fwhip couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. “I will tell him all about how you’ve developed a little celebrity crush on him–” “I have not!” Fwhip denied, wrinkling their nose. They stared at each other for a long moment before Fwhip groaned. He took another sip of water before pushing himself to his feet. “Fine, I’ll go talk to him. Just, don’t do that.” “Yay!” Gem cheered as Fwhip weaved his way through the crowd to get to Scott, very pleased with herself for her insignificant triumph.

Fwhip chose to ignore her, adjusting his signature red scarf. He paused for a moment, sniffing the scarf to make sure he didn’t smell too bad. The closer they got to the cyan haired man, the more they were sure it was him.

Before he had a chance to speak and introduce himself, Scott glanced up and noticed him. He gave them a polite smile before speaking in the very accent Fwhip had grown used to hearing from the speakers of their phone. “Hey, you’re Fwhip, right?” Fwhip blinked at him in surprise. “Yeah, I am. How did you know?” “I looked up who was going to be performing tonight before showing up,” Scott explained nonchalantly. “I’m impressed by your fingerpicking technique. Some of those songs moved very quickly, yet your fingers hit every note perfectly. I don’t think I saw or heard you stumble even once. You know, I wonder if that skill transfers to anything else.” Fwhip was caught off guard by the flirting tacked on at the end. He coughed to try and cover up his shock enough to respond. He didn’t wish to become a mess, at least not that quickly. “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with it so I’m glad it’s paying off. That’s some high praise, especially coming from another guitarist.”

Now it was Scott’s turn to blink in surprise. “How did you know?”

“Your fingertips are calloused, so I would assume you play some sort of string instrument,” Fwhip explained, “but I also found your music recently. I love finding indie artists, so when you stumbled upon my feed, I had to check you out. Your style isn’t what I typically go for, but I'm always open to expanding my horizons.” “Well, I appreciate it.” Scott swirled his drink as a small, pleased smile grew on his face. “Fortunately for you and your band, I enjoy a diverse amount of music, including folklore rock. I don’t typically come out to these sorts of things, though, but I told my brother I would check it out. He gave me a flier about the competition Empires Nightclub is hosting, which I assume you know about already.”

“Yeah, we’re going to take a shot at it.” Fwhip nodded in the direction of the stage. “The possibility of a record deal is too big to pass up.”

“That’s why my brother told me about it.” Scott sipped his drink, mildly dyeing his lips red from the fruity drink. Fwhip wondered (though he wouldn’t admit it) what it would taste like to kiss him, the phantom taste of sweet cherries, strawberries, and raspberries on his tongue. “I don’t think I will compete though. I’m doing fairly well on my own without a company backing me up.”

“Has no one offered you one yet?” Considering Scott’s follower count and musical talent, Fwhip was sure producers would have approached him. In this modern age, music labels loved snatching up people who already had a devoted online audience to build off of.

“They have, but I haven’t found one that didn’t want to trap me into an awful contract.” Scott shrugged, unconcerned. “I read the fineprint for this one, and the deal is actually a good one, so I’m rooting for you and the rest of the WRA. I thought about going for it, but they seem to be looking more for bands, not solo musicians.”

“Nah, c’mon! You could and should totally compete. You would have a good shot at winning!” Fwhip was confident in that, but he wasn’t going to push someone who he was still getting to know too hard. “If you’re adamant about that, you could try just playing here. It’s a good, regular gig to land; we play here often. Have you talked to Joey yet? The club owner?”

Scott hummed softly, considering the prospect as he surveyed the crowd, before giving his attention back to Fwhip. “I haven’t, but I wouldn’t be opposed. I’ve heard things.”

“I’ll introduce you,” Fwhip promised. “Or, I’ll at least tell Joey ‘bout you. If you give me your number, I can share it with Joey.”

“Smooth.” Even Scott’s laugh was musical and practically addicting to hear. Fwhip grinned, proud that he made Scott laugh. He wished to do it again several times over. “I don’t normally hand out my number, but for you, I’ll make an exception.”

“You’re just trying to butter me up so I put in an extra special word in with Joey.” Fwhip teased as he pulled out his phone.

“Is it working?” Scott fluttered his eyelashes, a playful smirk on his lips.

Scott’s icy blue eyes sparkled warmly at their back and forth– like moonlight through stained glass– and Fwhip wanted nothing more than to stare into them. His previous enchantment by the man standing in front of him didn’t feel as silly now that they were face to face.

“Maybe.” Fwhip passed his phone over to Scott, already open to the correct screen. As Scott typed in his information, Fwhip glanced back toward the stage. He knew he was pushing it on time already, but he did want to keep talking to Scott.

They made eye contact with Pearl, who tapped her finger against her wrist before mouthing “hurry up!”

They wrinkled their nose briefly before turning back to Scott, who promptly gave their phone back. “Are you planning to stick around?” Scott clicked his tongue in consideration, eyes shifting from Fwhip to the stage and back again. “I’ll be here when you finish your next set.”

“Awesome! See you then.” Fwhip grinned widely, suddenly feeling more energized than before. He headed back towards the stage, prepared to pour his heart and soul into his music as he often does, but even more excited to go back to talk to a certain blue haired guy.

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Scott ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

Scott hadn’t expected to stay at Empires too long that night, but he did, hours past what he had anticipated. He allowed himself to fall under the Wither Rose Alliance’s trance, making him unable to focus on his own lyrical writing. Scott didn’t find himself minding, contently under their spell. Besides, if he were to give an excuse, he would claim that tucking his notebook away allowed him to take note of how they played to properly compliment Fwhip in even more detail.

After WRA’s last set, Scott and Fwhip managed to chat a bit more before the violinist (he soon deduced her name was Pearl) dragged Fwhip off to go home. She shot a few teasing jabs at Fwhip, which amused Scott, but he had also been subject to a few looks himself.

Needless to say, Scott headed back to his and Xornoth’s apartment with a bigger smile than he could remember wearing in a long time. Xornoth even commented on it, gloating a bit about being right about Scott enjoying himself. Scott couldn’t even deny it. It’d only been a few weeks since they met, but Scott felt like he had known Fwhip for years. It was a strange sensation, yes, but it wasn’t unwelcomed.

“You’ve been smiling at your phone a lot.” Xornoth clicked his tongue, reminding Scott of his presence. “Tell me, have you developed a little crush on that red-headed guitarist?”

Scott scrunched his nose, glancing back at Xornoth as he opened the tab on his soda can. “How do you even know that’s who I’m texting? I could be texting literally anyone else.”

“Because I know you, little brother.” Xornoth came up behind Scott and ruffled his hair with his free hand. “You’re too much of a workaholic to text people back. At least, you were until you met them-”

Scott swatted their hand away before combing their fingers through the blue locks to try and fix the damage inflicted on it. “He’s just a friend and a fellow guitarist. Plus, he got me a well-paying gig at the nightclub you liked so much.”

“Yeah, and I’m the protagonist of a preteen, slow burn, baby’s first monsterfucker fantasty romance.” Xornoth fake-gagged, plopping down on the couch nearby. “But, sure, don’t tell me. Just make sure to use protection.”

Scott tried his best to bite back his blush as he tossed a throw pillow at Xornoth. A surge of pride washed over him when the pillow hit Xornoth exactly where he had aimed for. Before Xornoth could protest more than a “Hey!”, Scott fled to his room, out of Xornoth’s pillow projectile range, muffling his giggles all the while.

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Fwhip ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

Fwhip wasn’t a songwriter and they were okay with that. It wasn’t their passion nor their strength, and that was fine. That didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy messing around with chords and lyrics to try and create a song from time to time, even if it wouldn’t be something he could perform with his band.

They often stayed away from such a thing, but Scott’s encouragements were so genuine and inspiring (probably because they came from Scott Smajor, someone known for his sound and meaningful lyrics) that Fwhip couldn’t imagine abandoning any project they mentioned to Scott.

“It just isn’t flowing and I don’t get it,” Fwhip complained loudly. He was laying on his bed with his phone by his head and Scott on speaker. “It’s meant to be a duet, but the two parts aren’t complimenting each other like I intended. I’m honestly sick of hearing my own voice recording.”

“You? Sick of your own voice? I never would have guessed,” Scott teased lightheartedly with a laugh. Fwhip simply huffed in response, but he wasn’t upset at Scott’s words. “You’re at home, right? How about you go grab your guitar and we can fiddle around with it.”

Fwhip hesitated for a brief moment before propping himself up to go retrieve his instrument. “You’re lucky Gem is out on a date right now. I never would play something so rough around her. She would never let me hear the end of it!”

It was an over exaggeration, sure, but it wasn’t that unlikely. Poking fun at one another was just a thing they did. Gem wasn’t much help with his music because the stringed instruments Fwhip played had different techniques than the keyed instruments Gem specialized in. This just left them to vaguely pointing out things that sounded off and hoping for the best.

“Her date with Katherine, correct?” Scott asked to confirm, which Fwhip appreciated. He was slowly becoming a part of Fwhip’s friend group, yes, but even before that, Scott was making an attempt to keep mental notes on the people Fwhip mentioned. Scott actually did a good job at it, especially considering half of Fwhip’s friend group was in a sort of web composed of various polyamorous (both romantic and queerplatonic), platonic, and familial relationships. Even Fwhip struggled to know who was with who some days (especially with Sausage and Jimmy… doing their thing) and he’s known them all forever!

“Yeah, you got it!” Fwhip nodded as he settled back down on his bed and propped up his phone to video call with Scott. “Gem has been crushing on her for awhile, but chickened out on telling her several times despite me telling her to just do it already! Katherine clearly has a lot of love to give, considering she’s already dating Lizzie and Jimmy and is so affectionate with her friends. Katherine is also one of my closest friends out of the lot of ‘em, so, believe me, I would know.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Scott replied before sending the request through to Fwhip for them to switch to video. Fwhip leaned forward to accept it and waited for their phones to switch over. When it did, Scott was revealed to be sitting with his custom guitar already sitting on his lap. “Okay, show me what you got.”

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Scott ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

Scott wasn’t sure when the switch flipped from not really having friends to suddenly being accepted into a gigantic friend group. It was sometime after meeting Fwhip– a good few weeks, that was for sure– but the line of them being Fwhip’s friends to being his friends was too blurred to pinpoint.

Seemingly without Fwhip’s knowledge, several of them DMed him and they got to talking outside of their relations with Fwhip. Not to mention that he’s gotten to know several of them face-to-face at Empires between gigs and simply being invited out. Scott hasn’t taken any of them up on that, though. He’s been keeping his distance, feeling as if he were intruding, but they weren’t ready to just accept Scott’s reluctance just like that.

That was proven by Joey insisting time and time again that Scott should go out on the town with him, which Scott always wormed his way out of. That was, he had succeeded until Joey showed up at his apartment one evening.

“I can’t have my performers living like hermits!” Joey always had a sense for the dramatics, but Scott could tell he genuinely cared about those who worked for him even if he didn’t always show it like a normal person would. “You need friends and to have fun every once in a while.” “I have friends,” Scott insisted, though he knew that most of his friendships were still fairly surface-level. The deepest he’s gotten with anyone was Fwhip and, even then, there were still some walls up.

Joey gave him a pointed look before pushing past Scott to slip into his apartment. “I know your whole thing is ‘gay moody country boy’, but the mood doesn’t have to be depressing all of the time!”

“Joey, you can’t just barge into my place!” Scott exclaimed, following Joey as he beelined to Scott’s room. His door was decorated, making it well-labeled. “How did you even know where I live?”

“I have connections,” Joey replied nonchalantly as he swung open Scott’s closet doors. He started to sift through Scott’s outfits with precision and skill. “Besides, if I don’t drag you out, you’ll never have fun!” “I have fun!” Scott insisted defensively. Still though, he switched out his piercings for something a tad more dolled up in preparation of being dragged out against his will.

“Mhm,” Joey hummed, doubtful. “Sure you do. Now have you agreed to come or am I going to have to get Sausage to throw you over his shoulder?”

“Sausage?” Scott echoed, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why Sausage? He’s not even here.”

“Void knows I won’t be doing it!” Joey huffed, amused. He gestured at himself, already dressed for going out clubbing. Granted, he was always dressed up like that. Scott didn’t know if Joey knew what a casual, comfort-over-style outfit was. “This body wasn’t made for manual labor. Now how about this one?”

Scott eyed the blouse Joey selected, considering it for a moment. “Yeah, okay, hand it over.” “Perfect!” Joey practically jumped for joy as he handed the blouse to Scott. “The pants you’re wearing now are fine, so just get some shoes on. We’re supposed to meet up with Sausage and Gem soon.”

Scott turned so his back was to Joey to secure himself that minimal amount of privacy before stripping himself of his top and pulling the blouse on. “They’re coming too?” “Yeah, Sausage and I are besties, so we go out frequently, but we wanted to switch it up a tad. Add some new faces, you know.” Joey whistled at Scott when he turned around, eyes wandering down Scott’s body. “Okay, damn! Hey there, sexy.”

“You say that like I don’t always dress well.” Scott rolled his eyes, not really offended. Joey was the type to comment on other’s outfits like that so he knew it was intended to be a genuine compliment over anything else. “We can go now. Just let me tell my brother I’m leaving so he knows I’m not home.”

“Xornoth, right? Hot goth guy with purple hair?” Joey straightened up at the mention. “Is he here?” Scott sucked in his lips briefly before deciding to avoid the question. “I’ll meet you outside, Joey.”

Joey was on his phone outside the apartment complex when Scott approached him, and, when Joey noticed Scott’s presence, he grinned widely. “Perfect timing! Sausage just pulled in.”

He grabbed Scott’s hand and dragged him along to Sausage’s sedan. Joey called shotgun and left Scott to sit in the back next to a ginger who reminded him a lot of Fwhip.

“Oh!” Scott put a few pieces together with the recognition of the woman sitting beside him. “Gem! Fwhip’s sister, right? The keyboardist of WRA?”

“Yeah, you got it,” Gem confirmed. She was wearing a green dress with purple crystal accessories and her hair was tied into a long braid. “And you’re Scott. My brother hasn’t stopped talking about you.” Scott ignored the heat he felt on his cheeks at that. “He hasn’t?”

“Nope.” Gem popped the P before lowering the register of her voice, leaning in toward Scott. “Hurt him and I hurt you. Understood?”

Scott blinked at her rapidly, caught a bit off guard. Her threat was clear, and Scott didn’t want to be on the receiving end of whatever that ended up being. Besides, considering how his relationship was going with Fwhip, he didn’t want to piss off their sister. “Understood.” “Good.” Gem brightened up before glancing at the two chatting away in the front seat. “Now do you know where they’re taking us?”

Scott had not known any specifics, leaving Gem and Scott left to the wills of their captors. He had learned that Sausage also dragged Gem out of her apartment to go out with them. They were both in this together, and it gave Gem and Scott a chance to get to know one another better.

They must’ve gotten to know each other a bit too well, because they woke up to birds chirping and the rising sun on their faces. Scott groaned, sitting up from the tree he was leaning against with a hand pressed against his head. It took a second to register, but he was near positive he was hungover and he was not enjoying the feeling.

Gem stirred beside him, muttering nonsense that Scott couldn’t understand. He poked her side and she woke up with a start. “What happened? Where are we?” “Shhh, not so loud.” Scott shushed her, his head pounding aggressively. He squinted at his surroundings. “Where are-?”

Before he could finish his question, Scott realized someone had spotted them. He squinted at them too, as the person approached, trying to place them in his foggy memory.

"There you two are!" the person called, their voice so very familiar.

Gem rubbed the sleep from her eyes before asking, "...Jimmy?"

“Yeah, yeah, I found them,” Jimmy spoke to someone who wasn’t one of them. That is when Scott realized she was holding a phone to her ear. “Here, I’ll put you on speaker while I check they aren’t hurt.”

The person on the other end spoke something to Jimmy before he placed them on speaker and set down his phone. The Caller I.D. read off Pearl’s name, but another voice came over the line that wasn’t Pearl’s, if Scott’s memory was serving correctly. It should be, but his mind was still hazy from inadequate sleep and alcohol.

“Are you out of your mind?” Jimmy snapped at the person on the phone, causing Scott to wince. She muttered an apology to Scott before going back to her conversation with no-longer-Pearl and checking for wounds on Gem. “Sausage, you and Joey lost two drunk people and we couldn’t find them for hours.”

“I’m sorry, mi amor!” Sausage pleaded over the call. “Next time I see you, I’ll kiss it better.” “I don’t want to talk to you,” Jimmy grumbled, sounding totally over him. “Either put Pearl back on the phone or I’m hanging up on you.” “But, Jimmy-” Before Sausage could finish speaking, Jimmy hung up. Not acknowledging it, he turned his attention from Gem to Scott. “Okay, you both look fine. Can you walk?” “I can probably stand, but I don’t see my arm crutches….” Gem used the tree to try and push herself to her feet, though she was fairly unstable. “Ugh, I need some water. And a nap. Another one. Preferably in a bed this time.” “Me too,” Scott agreed, his body aching from sleeping on the ground.

“My apartment is nearby. I’ll just let Lizzie and Joel know that I’m bringing you, and you can nap the hangover off there,” Jimmy offered, moving Gem’s arm over his shoulders to help her walk.

Gem leaned into Jimmy’s support, leaving Scott to walk on his own. Luckily, he’s had his fair share of hangovers and was otherwise able bodied so he was stable enough to walk on his own. He was passively concerned where Gem’s arm crutches ended up though… “Thanks, Jimmy.”

Scott was fairly sure Jimmy replied with “You’re welcome” or something along those lines, but he honestly wasn’t sure. That was the last thing he remembered before he woke up again, snuggled under the covers within an ocean themed bedroom. Scott didn’t dwell on it, keeping his eyes closed and relishing in the bed’s comfort. He would deal with the repercussions of whatever was waiting for him later.

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Fwhip ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

Fwhip felt like they were on the top of the world. It may be a little silly to feel that way for winning a competition, but that competition was a big deal for his band! WRA was moving up in the world and it only filled him with determination, motivation, and energy. Cultivating that energy, Fwhip sat down to polish the song he had been working on for a while now.

Scott helped him out with some parts, and now, thanks to him, the chords flowed perfectly and the lyrics matched. The chords flowed perfectly and the lyrics matched. The song was a duet, and he’s heard both parts played together by recording himself and then layering them, but it wasn’t the same. Fwhip wanted to hear the song as intended, and he could only think of one person that would fit the part perfectly.

That led to Fwhip asking Scott to meet him at Empires during the day. He got permission from Joey, as long as Fwhip got the keys back in a timely manner. After all the continuous daydreaming of Scott, his singing voice, and his guitar playing skills, Fwhip finally worked up the courage to ask him and it was starting to pay off.

“Do you like it?” Fwhip asked shyly as Scott looked over the sheet music.

“Like it?” Scott parroted with a laugh. “Fwhip, I love it. This is amazing! It has the folk rock elements you’re used to, but there’s also inspiration from my style of music. Theoretically, it blends together perfectly.”

“Oh,” Fwhip blinked, before leaning forward to look down at his own handwriting again. “What would make it no longer theoretical?” If Scott had notes on how to improve it, Fwhip would absolutely take them into consideration.

“Playing it and seeing how it sounds together.” Scott grinned as retrieved his guitar, threw the strap over his head, and set the guitar in his lap.

They didn’t waste anymore time to start playing. The spirit of the music overtook them, bliss swelling within them and being poured onto every stroke of the strings. Fwhip didn’t consider himself a good singer, but Scott had a way of complimenting Fwhip’s voice and making him sound even better than he actually was.

Fwhip knew the lyrics and chords by heart, so he didn’t need to rely on reading the sheet music to help guide him. This meant that they stared at Scott, all their focus on the beautiful man across from him. When the song ended, Scott turned his attention to Fwhip, catching them staring at him.

“You’re incredible,” Fwhip admitted with a breathless whisper.

Scott laughed an airy, baffled laugh, his cheeks flushing a light pink. “Me? Fwhip, this was all you. Sure, I helped a little, but this is still your song. I’m just honored you picked me to play it with you.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Fwhip asked, blushing dark red. Before he could overthink it, he took his shot. “It is about you, after all. About… us.”

The song was about new relationships and getting to know someone that they previously admired. It contained lots of subtle praises and compliments that Fwhip knew Scott was smart enough to pick up on. He just wouldn’t have known that Fwhip meant those things genuinely about Scott.

Fwhip wasn't sure when they had drifted so close to each other, closing the distance, but... here they were, only a few inches apart. His eyes flicked to Scott's lips, then back up to Scott's icy blue eyes. Icy yet glittering with such beautiful warmth.

“Can I kiss you?” “I thought you would never ask,” Scott murmured in return, leaning down to lock their lips together. As the kiss deepened, Scott climbed onto Fwhip’s lap with his legs around Fwhip’s waist and Fwhip’s hands supporting Scott’s back. A three-legged metal stool was probably not the best place for two people to make out, but Fwhip couldn’t care less right now. All he knew was that he felt happy. Everything was looking up for him and he couldn’t wait to see where everything led to next. The future held many opportunities and experiences to be had, and Fwhip was more than ready to brave the unknown with Scott by his side.

#deity writes #scwhip #band au #empires fwhip #empires scott #empires fanfic #empiresblr #empires smp fanfic #empireshipping #empiresshipping #empires s1 #empires au #fanfic #fanfiction #empiresfic #MCYTBLR Aufest 2024

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theanimeview · 11 months ago

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Happy Hearts & Matching Outfits! #3

Late post! Sorry--this went up on Wordpress but we forgot to schedule it here.

By: Peggy Sue Wood | @pswediting

It’s that time of the year again when both lonely and love-filled hearts come together to celebrate the Valentine’s holiday this coming week. Having engaged in this tradition of presenting matching outfits that make me happy for two years now, I’ve decided to make it a lasting ritual! So, here I am—posting while on break.

From For My Derelict Favorite on Webtoon, we have our main couple in a beautiful set of purple outfits. This love story is a slow burn, and it’s nice to see the planning for their couple outfit in the story itself. This is the chapter were our ML is really starting to get to know his wife and starting to care about knowing her. It is a cute and nice inclusion. I also love that these two have begun consistently wearing matching outfits as time goes on, mostly with purple as their primary color.

From I Will Fall With the Emperor (not officially translated yet) we have a great villain couple. They’ve been subtly matching for a while now and this is shown to be a thoughtful inclusion by the artist/writer because throughout the series, characters that want to be on the MC’s side are shown to change their style of dress to match hers. Seeing the two matching in the beautiful burgundy above shows them coming closer as a couple, and also fits their villainous aesthetic!

From The Promise on Inker (Chapter 19), we have a more modern ensemble choice for the same-sex couple in this particular scene. Unlike most of the series where the couple does not wear matching outfits, they attend this event in coordinated attire. The significance becomes apparent when we see that all the couples in the series appear in matching outfits of distinctly different colors/styles for the event. This act symbolizes partnership and, to some extent, ownership at that moment. Interestingly, the love interest is likely the one that selected the outfits, notably choosing a shade of purple that complements our main character’s eyes.

From The Male Lead’s Little Lion Daughter on Tapas, we have another cute matching outfit between a father and daughter! I mentioned these two before in my last matching outfits post of 2023, and here they are again dressed up in similar colors and styles for a day out.

Also from a title mentioned last year is this lovely family unit in matching yellow outfits from Also from a title mentioned last year is this lovely family unit in matching yellow outfits from When the Villainess is in Love on Tapas:

Now, some of you might be wondering about the runners-up. Well, here are a few for you to enjoy!:

The Rogue Prince Is Secretly an Omega on TappyToon >

Not-Sew-Wicked Stepmom on Tapas >

Solitary Lady on Tapas >

–

If you enjoyed this post, please consider buying us a coffee, leaving a comment, and/or subscribing to us!

Copyedited by: Katherine Cañeba | @kcserinlee

#FEATURED #I WILL FALL WITH THE EMPEROR #MATCHING OUTFITS #MY DERELICT FAVORITE #NOT-SEW-WICKED STEPMOM #SOLITARY LADY #THE MALE LEAD'S LITTLE LION DAUGHTER #THE PROMISE #THE ROGUE PRINCE IS SECRETLY AN OMEGA #WHEN THE VILLAINESS IS IN LOVE

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thesinglesjukebox · 8 months ago

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KEVIN ABSTRACT FT. LIL NAS X - "TENNESSEE"

youtube

You're the only fivepointsixseven I see...

[5.67]

Julian Axelrod: If you showed me the phrase "Tennessee by Kevin Abstract and Lil Nas X" in 2019, I'd have a pretty clear idea of what it would sound like: a raucous, rowdy take on queer country soaked in tequila and self-conscious irony. But five years and a million stylistic pivots later, it sounds like even these two don't know what sound they're trying to achieve. All the humor and charisma of their past work has been drained out in favor of... a limp line about genealogy? Water-logged Devstacks strings? A guest verse that sounds like Lil Nas X is committed to hitting the minimum word count and not a syllable more? I'm all for maturity and artistic evolution, but this feels like a comedic actor taking a dramatic role and begging, nay, daring you to take them seriously. If Kevin's going to officially release a song from his Coachella set, it should be Sky Ferreira's cover of "Need You Now." [5]

Alfred Soto: We need songs about guys cruising gyms, and BROCKHAMPTON'S ringleader and this decade's most florid star are the ones for the job. Why does "Tennessee" run out of song in its last minute? [6]

Nortey Dowuona: Learning that Romil was involved in this little gem is a delight. Quadeca and Devstacks both share credits with him, and there's loping, bouncy drum programming that bubbles to life as synths swirl to surround Kevin. His still very anonymous tenor struggles to carry the song to life before dropping a haymaker ("I just know that I love being used as long as it makes me feel loved") and disappearing into a sweeping, bizarro-world version of Frank. Lil Nas sweeps in to remind Kevin that the latter is like Kool G Rap, and just like in that fantastic video where the young Big Nas and the elder Kool G trade bars, the young'n has the better verse and the better career prospect. Kevin better get used to playing the back — it's one role he plays well. [7]

Katherine St. Asaph: I guess we don't currently have Frank Ocean at home. [4]

Jonathan Bradley: The synth storm overwhelms both rappers, both of whose presence is more agreeable than memorable. That's particularly concerning in the case of Lil Nas X, whom I didn't even notice on the track until my third listen or so. He's never been a rapper who brings actual bars to a track, but he's usually good for spectacle. Here's he's overshadowed by Kevin Abstract's Dune puns. [5]

Aaron Bergstrom: Kevin Abstract loves it that you don't know your ancestry. Lil Nas X isn't interested in your old lovers and relations. The past has no meaning here, and to prove it the two artists trade verses over an achingly wistful track that pulls off the neat trick of creating a frozen present moment that seems pre-nostalgic for itself. [7]

Taylor Alatorre: The strange fetishization of rootlessness makes more sense when you consider that every artist involved here, including the producer Quadeca, is an "internet rapper" in the mostly non-pejorative sense. If Genius is to be believed, even the line "I love my phone, that's my device" is a reference to an Instagram post by Jane Remover, bringing us to hypercubic levels of Too Online. To be cut off from one's ancestral past is usually presented as a tragedy, but here it correlates with self-invention, blank slates, the eradication of borders and prejudices and other dusty concepts from the Hacker Manifesto. A fragile kind of utopia, and both performers seem aware of this — those "past lovers and relations" don't disappear just because we wish them to. Yet the allure of that utopianism has never fully dimmed, as shown by Kevin Abstract's willingness to lightly debase his own lyricism in order to give himself over to a grander, more spontaneous vision. "Tennessee" doesn't preach the gospel of cringe as hyperpop and its sister genres do, but it does have a native fluency in cringe, accepting it as the price of entry for communicating to another just who "all of me" really is. [6]

Ian Mathers: Ever been so mutually horny with someone you get a headrush like the edible just hit? Yeah, it's nice. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: All of this just to refrain from making a "ten I see" joke? What happened to decency? [4]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#kevin abstract #lil nas x #music #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #Youtube

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iconauta · 1 year ago

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youtube

Ballet Mécanique (19124) Fernand Léger

Ballet Mécanique ( Mechanical Ballet) is an avant-garde film made by the cubist painter Fernand Léger with the assistance of the American director Dudley Murphy . It is the best known example of cubist cinema and the only film work made by Lèger. Originally this film was intended to accompany the ballet by American composer George Antheil , but due to disagreements between the various authors, the film was presented without any musical accompaniment. Today, the ballet and the film would be considered two separate and independent works, although there have been numerous attempts to adapt Antheil's music to Léger and Murphy's Ballet Mécanique*.

The first public screening took place on September 24, 1924, in Vienna, but the best known remains the one in Berlin in May 1925, when Ballet Mécanique was presented at an evening entitled Der Absolut Film organized by the artists of the Novembergruppe in collaboration with the UFA . On the occasion other avant-garde films were screened in addition to Léger's work including Entr'Act by René Clair , Symphonie Diagonale by Viking Eggeling , Ryhmus 21 e Rythmus 23 di Hans Richter and Walter Ruttmann's Opus II, III, IV . All of these works shared the intent to absolve cinema from theatre and literature thus giving it a new form that went beyond only a narrative expression.

"The error of painting lies in the subject. The error of cinema, in the script. Freed from this dead weight, cinema can become a gigantic microscope on things never seen and heard," , said Fernand Léger about his work.

"Léger has completely freed the object from its rational, anecdotal, symbolic meaning, to build the film only on its plastic value, without any concern for its current meaning" declared instead Hans Richter crediting Léger with being the first to create a totally pure form of cinema.

The film consists of a swirl of kaleidoscopic images that mechanically reproduce human movements and inanimate objects. But it is only the images that move; the camera remains motionless without making any movement. No narrative binds the images held together only by the mechanical rhythm of the projection. To accentuate the sense of unreality, Léger colorized some versions of the film, while in others he preferred black and white; he never arrived at a final version of Ballet Mécanique .

Performers in the film include, in addition to the two authors, Kiki de Montparnasse , the smiling woman and Katherine Murphy: the girl on the swing (00:37). Charlie Chaplin also makes an appearance in the film in the form of a cubist puppet, the work of Léger himself, who is given the task of opening (00:27) and closing the ballet (15:55).

nda: over time numerous attempts have been made to adapt George Antheil's music to Léger's film; several of these versions are available online. We preferred to write a new soundtrack inspired by Léger's own statements:

"Nous insistons jusqu'à ce que l'oeil et l'esprit du spectateur ne l'acceptent plus. Nous épuisons sa valeur spectacle jusqu'au moment où il devient insupportable."

“We insist until the eye and mind of the spectator no longer accept it. We exhaust its spectacle value until it becomes unbearable.”

#fernand léger #ballet mécanique #cubism #history of cinema #Youtube

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samanthapsworld · 2 years ago

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The Ringling Museum of Art

Went to The Ringling Museum of Art the other day and wrote a review on an art piece that touched me.

The Triumph of Divine Love Review

By: Samantha Palmer

ARH2000: Art Appreciation 20630

Professor: Katherine Bzura

March 19, 2023

Physical Qualities

The art piece The Triumph of Divine Love by Peter Paul Rubens hangs on the wall at the Ringling Art Museum in Sarasota, FL. It is an oil painting that was painted back in 1625 on a canvas that is a little over 12 and half feet in height by 17 feet in width. It takes up an entire wall on itself showing the large proportions that Rubens presents in the art piece. All the images in the artwork are life size. The painting was done in a renaissance period with the use of religious mythology as its subject. At first glance there is a beautiful woman that is the centerpiece of the artwork with children surrounding her that are angels. Once we look deeper into the piece we see the great amount of symbolism that Rubens used when creating this beautiful piece of moving artwork. Although, the woman in the middle is the centerpiece Rubens balances out the artwork with lions and the angel children flying around her.

Personal Feelings

When I saw The Triumph of Divine Love for the first time at the Ringling Museum of Art it took my breath away. I had to sit down and stare at and take in all of its beauty. Reubens used warm colors so I got this sense of calmness and love from the artwork. It was just so moving showing a beautiful woman that is a mother with children that are angels flying around her and one that she is holding showing love to. The longer I sat looking at the artwork I started to notice the symbolism in the piece of work. I noticed that there was a child sitting on a lion with a spear in its hand, and I also noticed a child with flames from a torch pushing it near a serpent on the ground. It made me want to know more about the story line for this painting.

I think the reason the painting was able to draw me in and move me is not only because of the art piece being beautiful but because of how it made me feel. I am a mother of a son and I was told many years ago that I would never bear a child. Only by the grace of God was I unexpectedly blessed with a son. This art piece reminded me of motherhood and how much love goes into being a mother. I think like anything the more we can relate to ourselves or find meaning in something the more feelings we have from it.

Background

The Triumph of Divine Love was painted in 1625 by Paul Peter Rubens in Madrid. Rubens was born in Germany on June 28, 1577. He was a diplomat, scholar, and an artist. Rubens was described as, “the painter of princes and the prince of painters” (Peter Paul Rubens, 2023). Rubens was hired by Archduchess Isabel Clara Eugenia in 1625 to paint twenty tapestries for the Monastery of the Descalzas Reales. The Triumph of Devine Love is one of them (Museo Del Prado, 2023). The meaning behind this artwork is to show the victory of over evil in the world. The beautiful woman in the painting represents Charity, one of the three virtues, or as to what some consider the Mother of the Gods. The lions in the painting are the lions that pull Charity’s chariot and the serpents that represent evil are being burned by the flaming heart and pierced by the arrow of love (Anderson, R., 2000). I knew from the moment I first laid eyes on the painting that there was a tremendous amount of symbolism in it. The painting dates back to the Renaissance period where there were battles between Protestants and Catholics. At that time period there were numerous religious paintings referencing back to the religious methodology.

Conclusion

I chose The Triumph of Devine Love to do my review on because it touched me the most. It took my breath away, and not only because of its beauty, warm colors, balance, and symbolism but because I felt myself in the piece of artwork. I felt the love between a mother and a child. I think this piece of artwork is important to society because it shows a piece of history and how important religion was back in that era. This artwork is a huge panel canvas that takes up an entire wall demanding your attention with the proportions of the beings in the artwork displaying another aspect of its importance. I think The Triumph of Devine Love is gorgeous and speaks to you. I think that is why Mr. Ringling purchased the piece and displayed it for all to see.

References

Anderson, R. (2000). The Triumph of Divine Love. http://ringlingdocents.org/divine.htm.

Museo Del Prado (2023). The Triumph of Divine Love. https://www.museodelprado.es/en/the-collection/art-work/the-triumph-of-divine-love/34e44f15-389e-4782-9538-092b3e08a44a.

Peter Paul Rubens. (2023). World History: The Modern Era. Retrieved March 19, 2023, from https://worldhistory2-abc--clio-com.eu1.proxy.openathens.net/Search/Display/316355.

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mtaartsdesign · 3 years ago

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Katherine Bradford’s “Queens of the Night” (2021) at the 1st Av (L) station in Manhattan, was officially unveiled during an #MTA press event this morning. Reflecting the community of people who use the 1 Av-14 St station, vibrant compositions totaling about 400 sq ft of glass mosaic, fabricated by Mayer of Munich, are installed throughout the station.

"I'm pleased to have my work featured on the 1st Avenue stop on the L subway line, which is the train I take to my studio each day," shared Katherine Bradford. “Hopefully, ‘Queens of the Night’ will transport train takers elsewhere, a brief moment of otherworldliness in the hustle and bustle of their day."

The intriguing, ethereal figures seen in the mosaic panels represent the riders of the L train, which transports creative folk pursuing their dreams and the real-life heroes who provide essential services. In New York, these riders are dressed most often in black, which the artist believes is "merely a cloak over an inner life that is wildly colorful and unconventional". This group of figures expresses the energy of camaraderie when people are gathered together and inspires viewers to consider the outward expression of one’s own interior vivacity.

In the 1st Av north mezzanine, figures in lime green, aquamarine blue, and rosy pinks gather in a group (as riders do on subway platforms) and are depicted under the glow of a massive moon. Two characters from this assembly are also seen in the Avenue A north east staircase. Caped heroes, a recurrent image in Bradford’s body of work, guide riders in and out of the new north west and south east stairs at Avenue A entrance in two panels subtitled "Superhero Responds." In the 1st Av south mezzanine, riders are greeted by a dusky blue individual donning a gown in a field of flowers.

Photos: MTA/ Jason Mandella

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danijimenezv · 3 years ago

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Jill Valentine: All About the Past

Date of Birth: February 14th, 1992

Place of Birth: Manhattan, New York

Home: Valentine-Westbrook Estate, in the outskirts of Manhattan.

Family: She’s the third child of Haley (née Westbrook) and Matthew Valentine, and the second daughter. The oldest, Lucas Valentine, was born on January 12th, 1882, followed by Katherine Valentine, born on March 16th, 1884. The youngest, Ivy Valentine, was born on April 18th, 1994.

Growing up, Jill was a total daddy’s girl. And the Valentine girls had Matthew completely wrapped around their little fingers. He would go to the ends of the Earth if his girls asked him to. She wasn’t as close with her mother; the two of them had similar strong character, so they usually clashed, but their relationship was still strong. All of that was until the moment Jill decided to pursue human medicine instead of veterinary medicine, like she was supposed to. Her decision created a huge rift between them, and although they didn’t disown her and still paid for her education, her parents didn’t save their comments to themselves. Both of them, but especially her mother, made sure that she understood how disappointed they were in her. They thought she was throwing away her life, all they had built for her. Jill got used to those resentful comments and passive-aggressive remarks, but they still did their fair share of damage, and her relationship with her parents was never the same after that.

Jill is much closer with her older brother than with any of her sisters, because they share the most similarities, but the four of them are tight-knit. Lucas is ten years older than her, and the considerable age-gap caused their relationship to be as smooth as it could get between siblings. Since the moment she was born, Jill became Luke’s little princess, he spoils her immensely and he’s defensive and overprotective when it comes to her. In turn, Luke became Jill’s hero, and she looks up to him for absolutely everything. And when the time came, Luke was the one to really believe and support her, unlike their parents.

Her relationship with Katherine varies from time to time. Kat is eight years older than Jill, and acts as a protective and bossy older sister as much as she can. The age-gap is enough so they don’t exactly fight for possessions or games like a pair of sisters would. Though, much to Jill’s dismay, Katherine is almost an exact copy of their mother, so she clashes with her more than with the rest of her siblings. It also doesn’t help that Jill grew up being constantly compared to Katherine, so there’s a residual resentment underneath that make their relationship rocky from time to time. Still, the two love each other deeply and would do anything for one another.

With Ivy, the dynamic shifted, because she was no longer dealing with older siblings; with her, Jill became the older sister. she’s two years older than Ivy. She’s protective and defensive of her, but without being overbearing like their two older siblings would. Being closest in age, they shared most moments growing up and bonded over their similar experiences together. Between them, existed the usual fights for toys, games, clothes and make-up that didn’t exist with the other two, but also a better understanding of what the other was experiencing. Still, while Jill is a close copy of their older brother, Ivy resembles Katherine more, so they clash from time to time.

Jill grew up in a privileged home, as part of a wealthy family. Though, her parents didn’t want a nanny to raise their kids, so they got involved as much as they could and were really hands-on. They had a butler, Roman, that was just as involved as their parents, but never stepped in as a replacement for them. She grew up with three siblings, two older and one younger, in the family estate, in the outskirts of Manhattan.

Coming from a traditional family with old money, Jill’s upbringing was different from what anyone expected; it was a pretty strict environment. As per custom, at the age of six, each Valentine has to take a set of important decisions, established from generation to generation; they have to choose an artistic skill to develop, a music instrument, a language to study and a sport, so all of them would be educated in every area. Jill chose dancing, piano, French and tennis, respectively. And, coming from a family of veterinarians, at the age of ten each Valentine gets a pet, so they can learn to be responsible and mature from a young age; each of them are in charge of everything their pet might need, including food, exercise, medicines, etc. Jill’s first pet was a cat named Theo.

Even though she’s from a wealthy family, Jill was taught to do chores and earn everything by herself. She was taught to cook the basics, do laundry, sweep, vacuum, wash dishes, clean bathrooms, dust, mop, iron clothes, mow the lawn… And once she turned fifteen, she was also expected to work half-time two days a week at the Veterinary Hospital with her parents, to learn about hard work. She had a trust-fund, but she never used it because she only spent what she had truly earned.

Growing up, she also struggled with really connecting with people outside of her family. Because of her vibrant personality, Jill got along with everyone, but she only considered one of them her true friend, Hunter Griffin. Hunter and Jill became inseparable from the moment they met, when they were merely five years-old, and their friendship only grew stronger with time, and she was sure Hunter loved her for exactly who she was, that’s why it was easy to open up to him. Jill always hated how most of people either wanted her for her family’s fame or money, or expected her to be a clone of her older sister, so she learned to not get too attached to people, friendship-wise and relationship-wise.

All in all, it was a pretty strict and intense environment. It didn’t help that, in her eyes, her older sister, Katherine, was apparently perfect in every aspect, and Jill always felt like she was living in her sister’s shadow, being constantly compared to her. All of it combined only prompted Jill’s partying habit to break out, as a coping mechanism. And even if she partied up as a teenager, she was always the responsible one, never drinking nor doing drugs, but simply letting loose.

Even though Jill lived to her party girl reputation, she kept up her grades close to perfect, which was the main reason her parents could never ground her for going to any and every party and staying out all she wanted. She attended Léman Manhattan Preparatory School with perfect record. She kept up her GPA and was appointed Valedictorian and Prom Queen, just like the rest of her siblings and family members before them. As a teen socialite, she was constantly bothered by paparazzi and also quite under the spotlight, so every little thing she did ended up being public knowledge, to the point where she’s also been photographed for a few magazine issues. She was a debutante, like it was custom for everyone in her family, and has attended more balls, galas, reunions and charity events than any normal teenager. Though, even if she gained quite a reputation, in public events with her family she’s always been seen as polite, diplomatic, elegant, and downright charismatic, which earned the media’s favor.

Most of it continued all the way to college. She moved away from New York when she was accepted into Harvard; however, she wasn’t a known public figure in Boston, which was something she welcomed deeply, so she finally earned some peace and privacy. She toned down her party girl habits to only from time to time when she felt like it, and instead focused mainly on her studies. Jill quickly became the top student of her class and graduated with honors, part of it because it was something she was passionate about, and another part of it to prove her parents that this was the path for her.

From the moment she turned fifteen, her family set them up with one of her classmates, from another well-known family. His name was Augustus Danvers. The two of them got along great and even though they both tried to make it work, for their families’ sakes, they quickly discovered they didn’t have any actual romantic feelings for one another. Their first time was with each other, but not because there were feelings; it was more because they were used to each other and wanted to get over the curiosity. After that, they came to an agreement, to keep it an open relationship, where both of them could see other people and date whoever they wanted, but for family gatherings and social events, they pretended to be together. Even though they weren’t really together, they agreed to break-up, secretly, during winter break in their senior year, and later amicably broke-up in public after their prom dance.

It was Jill’s only ‘serious’ relationship. Given that she had learned to not get too attached to people, friendship-wise and relationship-wise because of her family name, she never got too close to anyone, and never felt the true want to commit to a single person. She had a long string of casual dates and hookups, but never an actual relationship. It also didn’t help that, from a young age, Jill was witness to Katherine’s devastating heartbreak after being left at the altar, and since that moment, Jill swore to never let that happen to herself. Though, she’s always honest with anyone she’s seeing about what she wants and what she doesn’t, because she would never get someone’s hopes up just to destroy them. She’s mature enough to know what to say to keep things honest and transparent, drama-free, and when to walk away when it’s not something that works for her or the other person.

Once she moved to Boston, she kept things short and casual with everyone. At Edenbrook, she pursued a friends-with-benefits, no-strings-attached kind of relationship with Bryce Lahela, and even went on a couple of casual dates with Rafael Aveiro. Though, Ethan was the game changer. She didn’t realize she was falling for him until it was too late and there was no going back.

Bonus:

A few of Jill’s magazine appearances

For @openheartfanfics Meet My MC Event ☺💕

Tags: @jamespotterthefirst, @takeharryandgo, @aestheticartsx, @choicesfanaf, @fireycookie, @liaromancewriter, @trappedinfanfiction, @tsrookie, @genevievemd, @lucy-268, @writinghereandthere, @queencarb, @gryffindordaughterofathena, @ohchoices, @anntoldst0ries, @bluebellot, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @mysticaurathings, @iemcpbchoices, @itsjustamesshonestly, @shanzay44, @lsvdw-blog, @heauxplesslydevoted, @starryeyedrookie, @casey-v, @mercury84choices, @chaoticchopshopheart, @quixoticdreamer16

#open heart #my oh mc #my open heart mc #jillian valentine

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deafwestnewsies · 4 years ago

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be my first last kiss

You can plan on a change in the weather or time, but you'd never planned on him changing his mind.

jack kelly x davey jacobs

read it on my ao3!

Earnest to goodness, Jack Kelly was going to murder Racetrack Higgins.

No, Anthony Higgins, this was the sort of thing that makes you pull out the tarnished christian name of a friend (or so you thought) you’ve known since he was toppling over on baby-fattened legs. Anthony Higgins would die by the sword of Jack Kelly.

He just had to get this godforsaken Youtube video filmed first.

You’re doing this for the cash, Jack grumbled to himself as he passed through the metal doors of a nondescript building on the Lower East Side- it was the kind of place being slowly taken over by hip and fun corporations promising Asian-fusion bars and eco-friendly thrift stores while edging out the relic businesses built on the backs of immigrant dreams. Jack couldn’t stand areas like this, the air thick with wasted luxury, so he rarely left the barrio. Why would he? Spot Conlon slept in the bedroom next to his. Katherine Plumber and Sarah Jacobs ran the bookstore that bought his baked goods and sold them for decent money. Medda lived down the street with her plethora of children, and Racetrack still beat the known path, doing tricks on the street corner for spare change and internet views. Davey- David. David Jacobs wasn’t there. It was right where Jack wanted to be.

Much unlike the dim studio where he now shuffled his feet, waiting for the perky young PA with bright red streaks in her hair to come back with further information about the video he would be shooting. Jack wasn’t a stranger to this small production company; He participated in a few Youtube videos back before they had millions of subscribers, he played truth or dare with lots of liquor and a complete stranger, he confessed about the first time he fell in love so it could be put to pathetic music.

Cash where you could get it, right?

“Kelly, right?” Cherry Streaks was back with a vengeance.

“Jack, actually,” he corrected.

“So you’re going to stand over there where the little blue X marks the spot and wait until the producer, Adam, starts asking you a few questions. The first one might be a test for our boom guy. Answer honestly, we can pretty much tell when you’re making up a story by this point. After that, the main part of the video will begin. Got it?” She was pointing wildly with a Number 2 pencil that had previously been stuck through her ponytail, and she smelled faintly of jasmine. Jack felt dizzy.

“Wait, I thought this was one of those ‘Choose who’s the best kisser out of ten strangers’ type of deal?” I mean, that’s what Race told me- oh God. Oh Santa Maria. Oh Saint Francis.

The young woman smiled like she was keeping an excellent secret. “Have fun, Jack Kelly.”

Walking off at her ominous dismissal, Jack stood where he was directed. The fluorescent lighting made him sweat under the knowledge that he had virtually no idea what he was doing there, Race had lied to him so that he would participate in some sort of sick, horrible scheme, and for all he knew, behind door number three could be his third grade teacher with a baseball bat and a basic multiplication grudge.

“Jack! It’s nice to see you again.”

Romeo was walking towards him with that easy gait Jack had memorized so long ago- Romeo had shot the original videos on an Amazon tripod and the unfounded hope of human connection, and now he owned the entire shebang. Jack dropped his tense shoulders to give him a warm smile. “Romeo. Boy, am I glad to see a friendly face.” Jack lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “You’ve got a production assistant who actually does work, so I’m assuming we’ve died and you earned a really nice deal in Heaven?”

Romeo barked out a laugh. “If I’ve died, do not resuscitate. I’ll never be able to look at another bodega meatball sub after cooking food bought in a real grocery store.”

“Rub it in, why don’tcha?” Jack punched the shorter man on the shoulder. “Listen, Romeo, you gotta tell me what I’m in for, a buddy totally sold me out for the cash and I have no clue what this project is gonna be like.”

Before Romeo could respond, a tall, lofty man behind the camera cleared his throat. “Darling? We’re ready to begin when you are.”

“Jack, meet Specs. Or Adam, but we all know how well nicknames stick. Specs, this is the old friend I was telling you about.” Romeo ended right above Specs’ elbow, and it was all Jack could do not to laugh.

The man fixed his thoughtful gaze on him. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack. You’ve got a real presence on the camera. Have you ever considered acting?”

“I’m afraid I’m, uh,” Jack flexed a paint-stained hand. “Strictly canvas, as they say.”

Nodding as if that was a phrase people commonly used and not something Jack invented on the fly, Specs then clapped his hands together. “Folks, let’s film this sonofabitch.”

---

“I’m Jack, and I’m a twenty-four year old artist living in New York City.”

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” Specs questioned from behind the camera.

Jack blinked in surprise. “Sure. One throughout high school, another in college and a little bit beyond. I wouldn’t call myself a heartbreaker or anything.”

“Do you stay friends with your exes?”

“One of ‘em, yea. It was more of an amicable thing, you know. She ended up being a lesbian. And I am… not.” His clumsy fingers tugged at a constricting collar.

“And the other?”

“Just because I’m not a heartbreaker doesn’t mean I can’t be a real asshole sometimes,” Jack nervously chuckled. (Davey had laid out rose petals, for God’s sake. Rose petals.)

“Was this girl the high school girlfriend, or the college one?”

“Boy,” Jack quickly corrected. “Man. I guess. He was in college- four and a half years.” (It took him four days to clear away the rotting flowers, the bleeding color slowly seeping into his carpet. Katherine found him delirious with whiskey on the bathroom floor; Sarah couldn’t bear to walk through his front door.)

“How’d you meet him?”

(He twisted in his high-backed blue chair. “It’s habláis in el presente.”) “Freshman year of high school actually. Spanish class. Funny story, actually, that other girl I dated? His sister. Broke her heart for his. He was so mad at me that we didn’t talk for like, months after.”

“It was six and a half months, actually.”

Of things Jack was expecting to see today, Spiderman was more likely than David. A flash mob singing death metal, maybe. Pigs flying through the polluted air.

“I was told to come in. I now see why.” David’s eyes narrowed behind his thin wire frames, different from the heavy Ray-Bans that he had dedicated himself to sophomore year of high school. Jack hated that he looked older, wiser, and all around… better.

Specs cleared his throat before the bewildered set of men (one more angry than the other, both desperately avoiding eye contact) could demand what sort of sick joke this was. “Can you introduce yourself?”

They broke up on a Tuesday, an insignificant, momentary Tuesday. Fourteen months ago. (Yes, fourteen months, like their terrible split was a baby that Jack was nurturing bit by bit. He refused to round down- fourteen months ago, he left David Jacobs.) So when David ran his thumb across his jawline, a nervous tick older than his younger brother, Jack couldn’t fathom why he felt so relieved. Some things never did change. “David. Jacobs.” David’s jaw flexed as he looked into the camera. “I dated Jack for almost five years.”

“Tell us about your other relationships.”

“Unfortunately, I spent the better part of high school and college pining after a total cocksock. Not a whole lot of time for casual dating in between.”

A deep silence permeated the studio as two boom mic operators swapped awkward glances. Jack didn’t attempt to defend himself- he was sort of a cocksock. David Jacobs had asked him to uproot what little life he had in New York and move to Santa Fe for a prestigious, so-accolated-you-could-cry medical school, and Jack Kelly broke up with him over containers of kung pao chicken and scattered rose petals. He was a cocksock, a dickhead, and complete asshole. An ex-boyfriend of mass proportions.

“Okay, so.” Specs was wiping at his glasses with the tail of his shirt. Jack wanted to snap them in half. “Today’s video is entitled ‘Exes kiss for the first time since their breakup’. If you need more explanation…”

“I think we’ve got it.” David snapped, clenching his fists rapidly.

Jack stepped half an inch closer to David and began murmuring under his breath. “Davey, if you don’t want-”

“Don’t call me Davey.” His eyes were alight with flame- Jack’s chest caught fire.

Of all the things that felt domestic when dating Davey Jacobs, kissing him never managed to become routine. Davey kissed like he earnestly meant it. The gears in his brilliant mind would grind to a halt so he could dedicate himself to the lilting curve of Jack’s mouth, a gentle sweep of warmth when the artist’s mouth was otherwise preoccupied with his needless words, and the world would spin on a delicate axis. (Jack’s shoulders rose to meet Davey, the physical ache of being someone’s other half drawing him forward. Davey had avoided him for so long, Jack living on a diet of lingering stares and a brief touch of the hand, that kissing him felt like a dying man knelt at a replenished well. How did they exist for so long without this innate knowledge of the universe? Could he stand to go on a single second longer without the praise of Davey Jacob’s lips?) Of all the things Jack missed about spending his life with Davey Jacobs, kissing him was certainly one of them.

There was a moment where the pads of Jack’s fingertips brushed the nape of David’s neck, a habit borne from the small noise it would draw from the back of his throat, and the steely corporate floor felt more like the worn carpet in the old thirty-second street apartment. Jack could feel his thready pulse with the gentle press of a thumb.

Davey was a fan of the dramatics- he would pull away from a passionate kiss in the middle of a busy New York street to stare into Jack’s eyes, foreheads gently touching and cheeks furiously blushing. Now, he simply drew back. Took a step away. Swiped at his lips with the back of his hand.

Jack felt like he was falling. (“If you ever break up with me,” Jack began. He laughed at Davey’s unexpected shudder, the honest and visceral kind. “Make it quick.”

“What about when you break up with me?” Davey peered over his glasses.

Crinkling his nose, Jack quickly answered before the other boy could detail any breakup preferences. “I’m not an idiot, Dave. ‘M not going anywhere.”)

---

He stared at the limp fifty dollars in his hand. Romeo had apologized, explaining that the people who had organized this got half the cut, and handed them both an envelope- Jack, one with “Tony Higgins” that he planned to run through his shredder, and David, one with “Sarah Jacobs,” which made Jack gawk in disbelief.

Jack didn’t want to walk away; David’s feet were shuffling against the worn pavement.

“It’s funny,” David started. “I listened to a lot of Taylor Swift to get over you.”

He winced. “Sorry?”

“Please. I know she’s been your top artist since 2013.”

(Katherine walked through a worryingly unlocked apartment door. “Is that... Begin Again? Jack, what the fuck are you doing?” She had seconds to worry about the cluster of wilted flower petals her heel had put a hole through before Sarah pointed at the pair of legs sticking out of the bathroom’s entrance.) “Yeah, okay. Fair. But… funny? Did I miss a joke?”

David closed his eyes to roll them, as he so often did when he was trying to be polite, and it hurt to be on the receiving end. “We just had our last kiss. You know, like-”

“I’m Joe Jonas?” Jack interrupted, bewildered. The semi-glare he received in return was all he needed to know- “Right. Dickhead. Listen, Dave- David, why didn’t you tell me you were back in town?”

There was a brief moment where something unrecognizable flashed over David’s face- pity? Regret? Dejection? It was quickly replaced by a soft smile tugging at the edge of his lips, his eyes glazed over with a practiced professionalism. “I’ll see you around, Jack. Have a good day.”

David turned and walked down the street, and Jack just missed the passing moment he chose to look back.

---

Comment on EXES KISS FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THEIR BREAKUP by IncredibleKinsey: those two dudes are all mad and then just make out like that????? yeah okay call me when the wedding happens

#newsies #newsies on tour #newsies on broadway #newsies live #newsies 1992 #javid #javid fanfiction #javid newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #katherine plumber #sarah jacobs #newsbians #newsies fanfiction #javid au #my writing

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prettyinlimegreenboots · 4 years ago

Text

More Hearts Than Mine - Part II

I do not own anything that is familiar to you - songs, characters, etc. This is the next part of the story - you’ll get to meet Jack and the person he’s bringing home with him. Enjoy!

Catch up with Part I Here!

PART II

September 20, 2019

“So I have a question for you.” Jack asked, sliding into a chair across from his girlfriend with a grin.

Kat leaned forward, placing a kiss on his lips. “That depends?”

“On what?” Jack raised his eyebrows, giving her a look.

Kat laughed, picking up her pen, quickly jotting down something on the notebook in front of her. “On where you want to bury the body?”

Jack threw his head back and laughed, loudly, catching the attention of several tables surrounding them. “There won’t be a body to bury. I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to come home with me to meet my momma and my siblings.”

Kat paused in her actions, slowly looking up from the notebook to see her boyfriend grinning at her. “You want me to come home with you to meet the family?”

“I’d love for you but if it’s too soon, I completely understand.” Jack paused. “I am planning on making a trip back in a few weeks and would love for you to come back with me.”

Kat bit her lip, looking at him. “You have six siblings, right? What makes you think they’re not going to tear me apart? You did mention that you’ve never brought anyone home.”

“They will love you, just as I love you.” Jack said, grinning.

Raising an eyebrow, Kat shook her head. “You’re laying it on thick, Kelly. I don’t know . . .”

“Come on, what do you have to lose?” Jack said, lacing his fingers with his, giving them a squeeze.

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair. “When do we leave?”

October 4, 2019

Relaxing against the seat, she watched the scenery pass by as a Gavin DeGraw song came on the random playlist Jack had put on. “So you said that you had something you wanted to tell me on the way.”

Taking his right hand off the steering wheel, Jack reached over and laced his fingers with hers. “You’re the first person I’ve brought home, but I told you that already. Medda adopted me when I was 14 years old. Racer and I were adopted together, we’re brothers by birth. Medda added Albert and Charlie a year later with Smalls two years after that. My siblings can be rough, hellions even, especially when new people are brought around. Just . . . don’t hold anything against them.”

“Did you tell them you were bringing me?” She asked, biting her lip.

It was Jack’s turn to bite his lip. “Not exactly.”

He yelped as her hand hit his shoulder. “Jack! You’re not making it any easier. Don’t you think telling them you’re bringing me home might help the situation a bit?”

“I was just too excited that you actually said yes that I didn’t exactly think things through . . .” Jack admitted with a grin. “They’re going to love you when they meet you.”

She was hesitant, giving Jack’s hand a squeeze. “If you say so.”

“There’s one more thing you should be aware of.” Jack started, squeezing her hand back. “Momma is special. She tends to adopt anyone that walks through the door. Just know that if something happens with us, which I’m not advocating for by the way, she would be even more devastated and feel like one of her children ran away from home.”

She raised an eyebrow, shifting in her seat. “So are you telling me that we can’t break up because it will break your momma’s heart?”

“Uh huh . . . there’s one thing you never wanna do and that’s make Medda angry at you.” Jack shrugged.

“I take it you’re talking from experience?” She quipped, as a grin stretched across her face.

His silence was all the answer she needed from him. “What did you do to piss your momma off?”

“There’s too many times to count.” Jack grinned, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “I was the problem child, it’s a wonder she continued to adopt after me and Racer.”

She raised an eyebrow, grinning. “That explains so much . . . what kind of problem child? I mean, should I be worried?”

“I may have been caught stealing once and ran with a rough crowd.” Jack shrugged. “It was a rough two years when I was teenager but Medda was firm and loving and managed to turn myself around. Though, there were many times I thought she would kick me to the curb but she never did.”

“So tell me about your siblings.” She shifted in her seat, eyes bright with excitement, despite her nerves at meeting his family.

A smile crossed Jack’s face as he reflected on his mismatched family. “What do you want to know about the hellions?”

“Should I be afraid that you call them hellions? Just whatever you want to share.” She shrugged, knowing they still had a bit of time ahead of them.

The song changed on the playlist she had picked when they first got in the car. Jack grinned listening to “The Last Song” by All American Rejects.

“Nah, we’re all a mismatch group - we’re all misfits that create a pretty amazing family. Anthony is 17 and my half brother. We call him Race or Racer but he’s the sweetest kid, even though he can be a pain in the ass at any moment. Kid’s got a mouth on him that Momma and I have been trying to curtail but it’s not taking much. He’s dating Sean, better known as Spot. They’ve been together for the last two years but have been friends for as long as I can remember. Charlie and Albert were the next two that Medda adopted - Charlie is a sweetheart with an evil streak. He’s our practical joker so be on the lookout, though Momma probably gave them the ‘don’t do anything stupid’ talk already. And Albert, he’s super smart but doesn’t really apply himself, rather just cruise through school. Albert is a wicked good soccer player and it’s pretty cool to watch him out on the field. His boyfriend, Finch is the goalie and the two of them are pretty incredible - they’re already talking scholarships for college.” Jack paused, shaking his head at the older of his younger siblings.

“They all sound pretty remarkable.” She murmured.

Nodding, Jack grinned. “They all are. Now for the younger three. Smalls is our only girl in the family but don’t let that fool you. She’s tough as nails, despite being a natural girly girl. She plays lacrosse and is damn good at it. She’s ruthless at it and it’s pretty cool watching her fight on the field. She’s a sweetheart and mostly always gets her way due to being the only girl. Romeo is our flirt but he’s harmless. He’s charismatic and energetic and really good at school, despite him being bored most of the time. He’s in a gift program at school and he’s a wicked good artist - he puts me to shame sometimes. And then there’s Henry, our newest brother. He’s four and has the biggest heart - he’s a cuddler, so beware. All of us are huggers, it’s just when you’ve been denied it for so long, you naturally drift to that - Henry never had that trepidation and just loves whoever he comes into contact with - there’s no malice or resentment yet.”

Reaching over, she grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze with a sad smile. “Thanks for telling me. I’m excited to meet them all. Do you have any pets?”

“Albert has Fluffy, Race has Iggy the iguana, and from what I’ve heard, Smalls has been trying to convince momma to get a dog. The house is already a three ring circle yet momma is considering adding a dog to the mix.” Jack shook his head chuckling at his family.

She raised an eyebrow. “So you mentioned that a couple of your siblings were pranksters - anything I should be cautious of?”

“Momma probably had the talk about treating you like she treated all of them when she adopted us so they should be on their best behavior.” Jack grinned. “You’re tough and you grew up with brothers so I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”

“I just want this weekend to go well and for them to like me.” She whispered, giving him a look.

Squeezing her hand, Jack smiled. “A little advice for this crew?”

“What’s that?” Katherine asked, raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend.

“Don’t let the little things bother you; laugh, a lot, and just talk with my siblings - that’ll go a long way in their book.” Jack smiled, pulling into the driveway of a gorgeous house.

A gasp escaped Katherine’s mouth. “This is your house?”

“Yeah . . . momma was married and divorced ten year ago and from the divorce bought this house and filled it with kids that her ex-husband denied her.” Jack turned off the car with a shrug. “Come on . . . the longer we sit here, the more time they’ve got to plan.”

Getting out of the car, she let her eyes scan the front of the tall dark grey exterior with white shutters. A basketball hoop sat in the driveway along with several scooters and bikes. Hearing the car door shut, she felt Jack’s presence behind her with their bags. “Take a deep breath, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“You aren’t about to meet your boyfriend’s family.” She gently teased.

He laughed. “No but I had to sit through dinner with your family and I guarantee this will be much less organized than that was. There may even be a small food fight.”

“Something to look forward to then.” She grinned, lacing her fingers with his with a squeeze before they made their way up the steps just as the front door flew open.

“Momma, Jackie brought a pretty girl home.” Henry, she was impressed that she remembered his name, yelled into the house.

In the next moment, her hand was dropped as Jack was engulfed with hugs from his siblings. Their bags were dropped by the door as he swung a couple of them into his arms. She grinned watching him completely relax in the mayhem as an older woman, she presumed it was his momma, came closer to her. “I apologize for my children, it’s not often they’re away from their brother for this long. I’m Medda, Jack’s mom.”

“It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Katherine.” She grinned as Medda engulfed her in a hug. Looking over her shoulder, Katherine caught Jack’s eye as a giant smile crossed his face.

Jack clapped his hands, as the two women broke apart, both with grins on their faces. “Momma, gang, this is Katherine, my girlfriend. Katherine, this is the crew.”

A light blush crossed her face as she looked at the eight faces that surrounded her. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Wait . . how do you know us?” Smalls piped up, looking between her brother and mom.

Katherine smiled. “Your brother told me all about you . . .”

“Glad you know about us but we don’t know about you.” Race’s sarcasm came out as he looked between the girl and his oldest brother. “Thought we didn’t keep secrets, Jackie.”

And with that, he left the room, pounding up the stairs. A few seconds later, a door slammed. A sigh came over her shoulder as a shorter boy smacked Jack’s back a couple of times before shaking his head. “You knew he was going to bring out the dramatics, Jack. Want me to go talk to him?”

“Nah, I’ll do it, Spot.” Jack walked over to Katherine’s side. Lacing her fingers in with his, she gave it a quick squeeze, as he looked down at her. “Let me introduce Katherine to you all then get her settled and I’ll talk to him.”

The next few minutes were filled with introductions as Kat made small talk with all of them. She found out she had a lot in common with Albert, Charlie, and Spot. She cracked a couple of jokes that caught the attention of Smalls and Romeo. As promised, Henry slipped his hand into Kat’s and hadn’t let go the entire time she talked with Finch and Spot.

“I’m going to show her to her room then we’ll be down, okay?” Jack clapped his hands as she finished talking about her journalism major with Charlie.

Jack grabbed their bags before ascending the stairs. Along the way, he pointed out the kid’s bedrooms before leading her to the guest room, which was adjacent to his own room. “This is your room.”

Pushing open the door, she smiled at the brightly painted buttery yellow room. A bed sat in the middle with a small bedside table and an adjacent bathroom. “You get the best room in the house - you don’t have to fight for the bathroom.”

Putting her bag down beside the desk, she gave the room one more lookover before gasping. In the middle of her bed was a snake, basking in the sunshine. Taking a step forward, she carefully picked up the snake, running a finger, gently over its back. “And who might this be?”

Jack chuckled, surprised by his girlfriend’s gentle nature to the snake. “That’s Fluffy, Albert’s pet snake. You never told me you were comfortable around snakes.”

“It’s a ball python, Jack. They’re harmless.” She grinned, eyes floating over to the doorway where Albert and Charlie stood. “Let me guess, her cage accidentally got left open?”

The two at least had the decency to look guilty as they stepped into the room. “Yeah, sorry about that Katherine. We’ll just go put her back in her cage.”

“She’s sweet.” Kat called after them as Jack pulled her into his arms with a laugh.

He leaned down and kissed her quickly before pulling back. “You just won a buttload of brownie points with them. How about you freshen up while I go talk to Racer? I’m sorry about him, Kat.”

“Don’t be . . . I told you that you should’ve warned them you were bringing me home.” She gave him a look, before pushing to her tiptoes and brushing a kiss to his lips. “Love you regardless.”

“Love you too.” WIth a final kiss, he left the room as she took a seat on the bed and tried to calm her racing heart. Twenty minutes down, the entire weekend in front of her.

She quickly ran a brush through her hair before using the restroom before walking down the hallway trying to find out where Jack went. She heard his voice and followed the direction. Stopping in front of Jack’s room, she smiled seeing Race and Jack sitting on the bed beside one another. “Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her home?”

“I was nervous . . . I’ve never brought someone home and I didn’t want to hype it up anymore than it needed to be.” Jack admitted. “But I realized it backfired. I’m sorry, Racer. Do you forgive me?”

A quick nod of the head, Race grinned, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “You mentioned she picked up Fluffy?”

“Without an ounce of hesitation, as if she’s held one her whole life.” Jack said, with a shake of his own head.

“I had a ball python growing up. Her name was Izzy.” Kat took that moment to interrupt the two by leaning against the door. “Hi Race, I’m Katherine. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” He held out his hand for her to shake. She did with a grin. “I’m sorry about earlier . . . it just took me off guard.”

“No worries . . . I did tell your brother he should have told you all but he never listens.” She grinned.

Race’s eyes went wide at her comment. “He never listens . . . it’s one of his most annoying traits.”

“Oh, no. I’m going to regret introducing you two, aren’t I?” Jack said, looking between his brother and girlfriend.

Kat laughed. “I think Race and I are going to get along just fine.”

“Kids, dinner.” Medda yelled up the stairs as a stampede of feet hitting the stairs was heard.

Jack and Race’s eyes went wide as they made their way to the hallway. “First rule of the household, Kat, dinner waits for no one.”

She watched Race run down the stairs as her and Jack took their time. Lacing fingers with Jack, they made their way into the dining room. All Kat could think was it was organized chaos, with all the kids trying to find a spot around the table. Two chairs were left open on Medda’s left, as Jack dragged her in that direction. “We have assigned seats around the table to stop anything from even starting.”

“Quit making us sound like heathens, Jack.” Race called from across Kat with a wicked grin. “You make us sound like we can’t control ourselves.”

Jack raised an eyebrow in Race’s direction. “Need I remind you about the great spaghetti disaster of 2015?”

Various shouts of disdain came from around the table as Kat’s head went from Race’s outrageous face to Medda putting her face in her hands with a groan. “I thought we promised to never talk about that, ever again.”

Jack put his hands up innocently at Medda’s exclamation. “Sorry momma . . . hence why we have assigned seating around this table.”

And with that, spaghetti was scooped onto plates and conversation hushed as everyone began eating. Katherine ate with gusto while listening to everyone talk about their day. Henry ran an animated discussion about preschool dramatics while Smalls just shook her head at her brother. “Thought you were allowed to be around Avery after you put paint in her hair?”

Henry at least has the decency to look guilty. “Well . . . that was last week. Monday was a new week.”

“Wait . . .” Jack held up a hand, looking around the dining room table. “Henry James, you put paint in Avery’s hair?”

Henry grinned brightly at his older brother. “Well . . . she started it by putting playdough in my milk cup. I had to get her back somehow.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kat watched Jack bite his lip to hold back the laughter that wanted to escape. “Well that wasn’t very nice.”

“Try having a conversation with his teacher about it.” Medda piped up, giving her youngest a look, while shooting a warning look to her oldest. “So how’s school going Jack?”

Taking a drink of water, Jack shrugged. “It’s going good. Finally got into the groove of classes and homework and balancing everything. I really like my art history class, the professor is really cool.”

“Sounds like a snoozer.” Albert piped up, giving his older brother a look.

“Of course you’d say that . . .” Romeo rolled his eyes at his older brother, before turning his attention to Jack. “Are you studying Monet or Rembrandt yet?”

Jack chuckled at Romeo’s dig at Albert before shaking his head. “Nah, we’re starting with Da Vinci but we’re going to be studying both of them.”

“Ugh . . . Da Vinci.” Romeo made a gagging noise which caused Kat to giggle at him. “Now talk to me when you’re studying Monet.”

“Alright nerds . . . moving on.” Race gave his brothers a look. “What is the plan for the weekend?”

Six eyes looked between Jack and Medda as Kat did the same. She was just along for the ride for the weekend. “Albert’s got a game tomorrow morning that I figured you’d want to go to Jack but other than that, there’s nothing planned.”

“I want to show Kat around a bit at some point but we can play that by ear.” Jack shrugged, looking at his girlfriend. “We can go to Al’s game . . . you know, Kat played soccer in high school.”

Albert’s eyes lit up at that. “What position did you play?”

“Center Midfielder.” She grinned. “My team went to state and lost in the final game in overtime, penalty kicks.”

Albert whistled slowly, shaking his head. “Tough break. I usually go outside after dinner to kick around in the backyard, if you want to join me.”

“I’d love to. Your brother doesn’t know how to kick a soccer ball properly.” She gave Jack a wicked grin before looking across the table at Albert. “He has absolutely no ball control.”

“You’re preaching to the choir.” Race pipped in, looking at Katherine. “There may have been several windows broken because someone has a left foot.”

Jack held up his hands in defense. “I didn’t realize the ball would go towards the house. I was aiming towards the field.”

“What are you even saying?” Kat gave him a look, shaking her head. “I don’t even know the words that are coming out of your mouth.”

Albert, Finch, Spot, Race, and Charlie all busted out laughing at Katherine’s bluntness. “Oh you’ve met your match, Jackie.”

Dinner quickly finished up, and before long the table was cleared before the family headed outside to enjoy the last few hours of the day. All the kids ran out into the big backyard while Jack and Medda hung out on the deck. “I’m so glad you’re home, Jack.”

“It’s good to be home momma. How have you been?” Jack looked over at the woman who had saved his life more times than he could count.

Medda reached out and patted his shoulder. “I’ve been good, busy with the kids, making sure they are all happy and have everything you need. It’s been an adjustment since you went back to school but it seems like we’ve got it all figured out now. But I won’t say that I haven’t missed you.”

“I have missed you too, momma.” Jack smiled. “And funny enough, I’ve even missed the zoo and the antics of everyone.”

She gave him a look. “Only you could call this place a zoo and live to tell the tale.”

“Oh momma, you love me so much more than the others. I’m your first born.” Jack grinned, knowing though Medda would deny it, it was true.

Medda watched Kat and Albert pass the ball back and forth between them. “Jack …. you know I love you all equally but I will say the house hasn’t been the same since you went back to college.”

“Is that a good thing or bad?” Jack asked, not really wanting to know the answer either way.

Medda chuckled. “I’ll let you figure that one out.”

Leaning back in the lounge chair, Jack watched his siblings and friends run around the yard. A game of chase had begun while Kat and Albert continued to kick the ball back and forth, dodging hitting anyone in the process. It was good to be home.

#Newsies #Newsies Fan Fiction #writing #more hearts than mine newsies #medda larkin #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #meeting the family #jack kelly #katherine plumber

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imjustthemechanic · 4 years ago

Photo

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake

Peggy and the real Agent Russel look into Miss Lake’s apartment, and find an unusual apology.

Both Peggy and Russel spent their mornings with a sketch artist, getting their memories of the mysterious woman’s face down on paper so they could be compared. When the two drawings were finally placed side by side, Peggy was not at all surprised to see they could very well be the same person. The woman who called herself ‘Kay’ had a pleasant oval face with a short, turned-up nose, the flawless skin Russel had already mentioned, and full lips that she accentuated with dramatic lipstick. She was, Peggy observed, not so much strikingly beautiful in herself as somebody who knew her own good best features and how to emphasize them.

Dottie had been very much the same.

With that done, Peggy was finally able to stop by at a diner for some breakfast, though it was nearly lunch time and her stomach was growling fiercely. Russel went with her.

“You’ve been eating all morning,” Peggy reminded him when he ordered the breakfast platter – bacon, eggs, sausages, potatoes, tomatoes, pancakes, and toast.

“I was in the trunk of my car for twenty-four hours, Agent Carter,” he replied. “I could eat a horse.”

“I think you already did. Have you called your wife?” Peggy asked.

He looked sheepish. “I asked one of the police to do it for me.”

Mrs. Russel had probably loved that. “How did that go?”

“I don’t know yet and I’m not sure I want to.”

“Mmm,” was all Peggy said. It was a strange thing… men often treated their wives as foolish annoyances, yet at the same time they could be utterly terrified of them, as if women were less people than they were forces of nature. “Well, perhaps you can consider it a learning experience.”

“Damned right,” Russel said. Peggy wondered what he thought he’d learned.

“I suppose I’m going to have to go over the whole story of my interactions with Miss Underwood again,” Peggy remarked, as the waitress set their breakfasts on the table. Oddly, it seemed less daunting now… as if telling it to the spy had been a reassuring practice run.

Russel cut himself a large square out of the edge of his pancakes and dipped it in syrup before stuffing it in his mouth. “Save it for the next guy, Agent Carter,” he said around the mouthful. “Call it a hunch but I think I’m about to be taken off this case.”

At least he was a realist, Peggy observed. She sat quietly for a moment as he devoured sausages whole, then reached into her bag and took out the envelope. “Agent Russel,” she said, “I believe our mutual friend may have given this to me. Did she get it from you?”

He looked up at the envelope and frowned. “I don’t think so. What’s in it?”

“A piece of paper with six numbers on it,” Peggy replied. “Seventy-nine, forty-seven, thirty-five, ninety-five, twenty-five, three.” They had burned themselves into her brain. She would never forget them, any more than she would have forgotten her own name. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Russel shook his head. “A code?” he suggested, and thought for a moment. “Latitude and longitude?”

“It’s an island in Northern Canada, I already looked it up,” Peggy said. “There’s nothing but sea ice for miles.” Would that mean anything to him? Did he know of her association with Steve?

He shrugged. “The only thing I can suggest is call the Canadians and ask them to take a look.”

Not his, then… and he hadn’t known the name Olga Barynova. Had the latter been a slip, or had ‘Kay’ deliberately fed her information? And what in the world could be the meaning of the coordinates coming from a likely Soviet operative? Before she placed any long-distance phone calls to Canada, Peggy really needed to find this woman. The only question was, having done so, would they be able to get any information out of her?

Peggy had told Daniel where she’d be, so it wasn’t a surprise when one of the policemen came into the diner and approached their table. “Agents?” he said. “We traced that phone number.”

“Yes?” Peggy perked up. She wouldn’t be surprised to find out it led to a pay phone, but that could at least be dusted for prints.

The man handed Agent Russel a piece of notepaper. “It belongs to a room above the Botticelli Gardens nightclub on Hollywood Boulevard. Some of the waitresses live up there. The woman who keeps the records, Mrs. Lowe, said room four was rented to a woman named Katherine Lake.”

Agent Russel opened his mouth, but Peggy got there first. “Did you show her the sketches?” she asked.

“That’s what I was going to ask,” said Russel.

“Not yet,” the policeman said.

“Then I’ll head over there at once,” said Peggy.

Russel nodded and held up a hand. “Waitress!” He snapped his fingers. “Can I get the rest of this to go?”

“I thought you were being taken off the case,” Peggy reminded him.

“I’ve got a personal interest now.”

“Is that a personal interest in apprehending this Miss Lake, or a personal interest in avoiding your wife?”

“Bit of both,” he admitted.

He probably thought Peggy would need help with the investigation, she observed. She just hoped he wouldn’t get too much in the way.

The Botticelli Gardens was a located in a three-storey building designed to look from the outside like an Italian Villa, with red roofs, decorative columns, and a pair of under-watered cypress tress flanking the front doors. At this time of day they were not yet open, so Peggy and Russel went around the side to the staff entrance and knocked.

The door opened to reveal a plump middle-aged woman of mixed racial ancestry, her frizzy dark hair only just contained in a bun at the back of her neck and a pair of cat-eye glasses perched precariously on her short nose. Both Peggy and Russel held up their badges.

“Ned Russel, FBI,” he said.

“Peggy Carter, SSR,” Peggy added. “Are you Mrs. Lowe?”

The woman heaved a sigh that suggested this was not the first time law enforcement had shown up on her doorstep this week. “Yes, I’m Gladys Lowe,” she said. “Now what?”

Peggy held up the sketch of Miss Lake. “Do you know this woman?”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Lowe, not even surprised. “That’s Kay Lake. Arthur hired her about a week ago, but she didn’t turn up for work yesterday evening. What’d she do?”

“Besides drugging me, robbing me, and leaving me locked in the trunk of my car?” asked Russel.

“Impersonating an FBI agent to gain access to classified information,” Peggy added. “And possibly more, we’re not sure yet. May we have a look at her room, please?”

Mrs. Lowe’s eyebrows rose and she whistled. “She’s ambitious. Most of them settle for petty theft. Come in, she’s room four. Are you going to impound her belongings?” She was probably hoping to sell them.

“That depends on what we find, Mrs. Lowe,” said Peggy.

Mrs. Lowe showed them upstairs. The second floor of the Botticelli Gardens was private party rooms for the VIP clientele, but the third was set aside as living quarters for the staff. The rooms were tiny and cramped, with only one bathroom and one laundry for the lot of them. Mrs. Lowe unlocked number four and Peggy followed Agent Russel inside.

It was empty. There was a tiny bed, a nightstand, a small wardrobe, and a smaller vanity under the one grubby little window. All the drawers and cupboard doors were open, to show that there was nothing in any of them. The bedclothes were folded at the end of the mattress, so it was easy to see that there was likewise nothing under the bed. The only thing in the room that would not have been there when Miss Lake moved in was a large brown paper bag on top of the folded sheets.

Peggy and Russel exchanged a glance. “Mrs. Lowe,” said Peggy. “Do you have any idea what might be in that bag?”

“No,” was the reply.

Russel edged forward and knocked it over. It lay quietly on the mattress, showing no signs of being dangerous, and Peggy realized there was something written on it. In block capitals, somebody had written: SORRY.

“Let me do it. I have gloves,” said Peggy. She pulled them out of her purse and put them on, then very carefully unfolded the top of the paper bag. The first thing she saw inside was a leather folio… was that the one Lake had with her the other day? Peggy pulled it out and opened it, and found it did indeed contain typed pages summarizing what was known about Dorothy Underwood.

“That’s mine,” said Russel.

“I expected as much,” Peggy put it on the bed and looked into the bag again. “It appears your wallet and badge are in here, too, and a gun that I suspect is your service revolver. We’ll have to get these dusted for prints.”

“Agreed,” Russel said. “I’ll take them back to…”

“Ah-ah,” Peggy interrupted. “I’ll take them back to the SSR and have it done there. You’ve been taken off the case, remember?”

“Not officially yet,” he pointed out.

“But you’re sure it’s coming.”

Russel looked her over. “Are you always this… intense, Agent Carter?”

“Always,” Peggy assured him, with a practiced deadpan.

Peggy called Daniel, and soon after the SSR arrived in force to take a proper, more thorough look at the room while Mrs. Lowe stood there frowning disapprovingly and threatening horrible fates on anybody who damaged the furniture. Men covered everything with fingerprint powder and rapped on the floor, walls, and even the ceiling looking for secret hiding places. They found none of the latter, but were able to obtain a reasonably good set of latent prints from the various drawers and the bedposts. The size of these suggested they were a woman’s, or at least belonged to somebody with small hands. There were also a couple of blonde hairs on the bedclothes.

Unfortunately, they had no suspect to compare these to. Miss Lake probably knew that perfectly well. They would have to actually capture her before they could prove anything.

While they were busy bagging the evidence, another policeman arrived, looking for Agent Russel.

“We’ve had a call from your office,” he explained. “They want to talk to you.”

“I’m surprised it took them this long,” Russel sighed. “All right, I’ll head over.” He retrieved his hat from the hook on the back of the door of room four, and put it on. “Good luck with the case, Agent Carter… and with Miss Underwood.”

“Thank you, Agent Russel,” said Peggy, and realized she actually felt a bit sorry for him. It was true he’d been a terrible fool, but he’d never tried to deny that or pass the blame on to anybody else, and while he wanted to put off the consequences for as long as he could, he seemed to realize they were inevitable. That was more than Peggy could say for a great many people she knew, male or female. It was certainly more than she could say for herself in this mess with Dottie.

“Good luck with your wife,” she told him.

“Thanks. I’ll need it,” he replied ruefully, and left the room.

Back in the SSR offices that evening, Peggy found an opportunity when nobody seemed to be watching, and brushed fingerprint dust over the mysterious envelope. Several prints developed, and Peggy pulled out her own employee file so she could eliminate which ones were hers. Quite a few of them were… but there were others that were not, and when she examined the actual page with the numbers, she found a print of the side of a hand where it had rested while drawing the star and circles, and a palm in the upper left corner where the other hand had steadied the page.

The prints were partial, and Peggy was not an expert… but the left thumb bore a set of four interrupted lines that looked very much like a thumbprint that had been taken from one of the drawer knobs in room four.

That seemed to settle it: the envelope had indeed been left by Miss Lake. It had nothing to say, though, about the question of why. Was this a trick, an attempt to send the SSR off on a wild goose chase so that Miss Lake could track down Dottie herself without their interference? Or did the Soviets actually know where Captain America was? And if they did, what were they planning to do about it?

#fanfic #captain america #agent carter #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggy #fix it fic

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