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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years ago

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Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Part Eight (Mycroft Holmes x Reader)

Sorry for such a long delay!! It’s my little boy’s first birthday this week so I’ve been running around making arrangements and picking up last minute presents! Hope you enjoy this little chapter. It’s only 3K words, but it is a build up ready for the next chapter which will contain smut! Not full blown smut (I don’t think Mycroft is ready for that yet!) but still smutty nonetheless!

I will separate the smutty bit enough so that you can skip it if you want, but it will be referenced later on in that chapter!

Word Count- 3062

This morning differed from the last few that you had experienced since staying at Mycroft's home, namely because Mycroft had awoken before you this time, but also because it was the first morning you had ever been awoken by long fingers prodding at your forehead. That and also because, despite last night's late events, you managed to arise at a reasonable 9am.

"Did you know there are a lot nicer ways to wake somebody up?" You questioned, opening your eyes to see Mycroft staring at you with a slight frown to his brow. He retracted his hand slightly and shifted to sit a little higher.

"You know, Sherlock as a child once woke me in a similar way. I felt small scratches on my eyebrows and woke up to see him crouched over me with a smug little grin on his face. As it turns out, he had slipped sleeping pills into my cup of tea before bed and in my slumber covered my eyebrows in toothpaste." You covered your mouth with your hand and snorted slightly. "He'd come in to see if there was anything left beneath them, which, of course, there wasn't.. claimed it was just an experiment. I'd like to laugh and be more dignified about it upon looking back, but I struggle because he was only six and already a sod."

"Okay, you've proven there are in fact worse ways to wake up." You didn't make big deals out of it, but every time Mycroft welcomed you a little more into the stories of his youth, you can't help but feel your heart warm. It may not seem like much, but coming from Mycroft, a very private man who hasn't been treated the best over the years, it meant everything. You stretched and moved your hands up to rub your eyes, flinching a little as your fingers brushed against the bit of your head above your eyebrows. "Bugger." You winced, poking again and feeling a small lump.

"I was going to warn you but you laughed at my traumatic eyebrow removal story." You groaned and recalled your memory of last night and where you believe the bruise originated from.

"I jumped into bed last night sulking a bit that you wouldn't talk to me and uh.. misjudged.." Mycroft snickered slightly from your side, you swatted his arm. "Tit. I'm blaming you. This wouldn't have happened if you didn't go all Han Solo in carbonite on me." You spoke playfully, letting him know you weren't truly peeved.

"I thought you said it was cute?"

"That was clearly a concussion talking." You stretched once more and climbed out of the bed, walking over to a mirror above a dressing table and rolling your eyes. "Might need your special government powers to clear out the cafe else Ms Woodall will think we've had a domestic." Bernice Woodall, owner of one of your favourite little cafes settled on the outskirts of St James' Park was a very.. particular lady. She could have a good laugh one moment, and start a quarrel with a customer over the amount they stir their tea the next. But, you'd have to admit, she has one hell of an all day breakfast menu; you could practically taste one of her omelettes just by thinking about it, making your stomach growl loudly.

"I would but, if I am to be very honest, she genuinely scares me a little. I think she could overthrow MI5 so I daren't even try." You stood and moved into Mycroft's bedroom, grabbing your bag of clothes and picking through a few of the pairs of your jeans Anthea had brought and scanning through the t-shirts. Your fingers brushed over the creases of the shirt that had formed from being stuffed in the bag and frowned.

"Perhaps it would be more suitable for you to pop those in one of the chest of drawers? I'm sure I have at least one drawer empty.." Myc's voice came from behind you and you fell from your crouching position, clutching your heart.

"You and your bloody spy legs, you just scared the shit out of me." You stood back up, your pile of today's clothes in one hand and the bag of the rest in the other. "Giving me a drawer in your place already? Ooh Myc you are serious." You grinned playfully, following him as he guided you to a set of drawers in the opposite corner of the room. Mycroft halted and opened his mouth to make some kind of comment but you cut him off, placing your folded clothes inside the Edwardian furniture. "Only teasing.. I'm just glad you haven't kicked me out yet. Though I don't think my own bed will ever feel as comfortable as yours. I might not want to go back now you've spoilt me, you'll just have to be blunt when you're bored of me." You winked at him and carried your outfit into the en suite bathroom to get ready. Mycroft headed over to his wardrobe to pluck out his own clothes, electing to remain somewhat casual for your trip to breakfast with a pair of navy chinos and a lighter blue button up before muttering slightly under his breath.

"And if I never am?"

In the rare parts of his life where he allowed to imagine himself getting into a relationship, Mycroft had never expected himself to be overwhelmed with so much emotion so quickly, but with you it was almost as though he had no control; as though there had been so many pent up feelings over the years that they just seem to have exploded without any rational thought behind it. And whilst these were all new to Mycroft, and how he still wasn't entirely sure about everything that he felt when it came to things with you, the only thing he was positive about was that he didn't want it to go. And that meant not wanting you to leave. Which was ridiculous. You had just under two weeks left together until you would be needed back at work, and he would have to return to fighting on Britain's behalf, but the thought of you not being at home to greet him when he finished, or him not being able to pick you up in one of his cars from the Yard to take you both home made him feel a sense of disappointment. He shook himself from his thoughts when you emerged from the bathroom fully dressed.

"On second thoughts, I may take the risk. I'm not sure I can have members of the general public associating me with a Sex Pistols fan, no matter how humerous you may believe that top to be." You walked out proudly wearing your 'God Save the Queen' t-shirt with a grin. "You are aware tha-"

"That when the Sex Pistols released their song 'God Save the Queen' in 1977 it was around the same time of The Queen's silver jubilee and thus it was banned for a while on the premise of being 'bad gross taste'? You've only mentioned it every time I wear this shirt.. Though if your research extended enough then you'd know Paul Cook said it wasn't written specifically FOR the jubilee.. So if one of Lizzie's spies catch me in the act, I shall make a very sincere apology." Mycroft took his own clothes into the bathroom to get ready himself and scoffed.

"But I AM one of 'Lizzie's Spies'." He mused, leaning slightly against the doorframe after settling the outfit on the counter. You turned around on your heel and stood up on your tiptoes, pushed him more forcefully against the doorframe and placed your hands on Mycroft's cheeks, pressing your lips softly against his. His shock subsided before he kissed you tentatively, his hand resting on your lower back. You pulled away after a moment and ushered him into the bathroom to get ready, closing the door behind you and leaving him still slightly red faced and confused.

"Consider that my sincere apology." You headed over to the dresser and began to tie up your hair. "But hurry up, I'm starving." You called, moving the hairbrush too low and brushing against your bruise, making you wince loudly. From the bathroom, you heard Mycroft's voice before the sound of him brushing his teeth.

"Head?"

"Well I was thinking more along the lines of breakfast, but who knows what the day will bring." You heard the sound of Mycroft choking on his toothpaste and wished to whatever deity out there that you could have seen his face. Yes, you had promised to try and be less overbearing with your comments but he walked into that one. You grinned and sat down on the side of the bed, briefly scanning through your phone before Mycroft emerged, his face still burnt a red as deep as the burgundy sweatshirt he had paired with his outfit. The fact he had come out at all at least let you know that your joke hadn't taken it too far.

"You're a minx."

"And you wouldn't change it. Now let's go!"

---

Only 20 minutes later had you both be found sitting comfortably in Ms Woodall's cafe, tucking into your respective meals- with you noticing, but not commenting on, Mycroft eating comfortably until the last bite of toast was gone, a sense of pride warming within you. Not too long after, Bernice herself headed over to clear up your tables.

"I trust everything was up to standard?" She asked, piling your plates onto her little trolley and offering top ups on your drinks.

"Splendid as usual, Ms Woodall." Mycroft smiled, accepting his new cup of tea and cradling it comfortably between his long fingers.

"Still proving to be our favourite place for breakfast." You praised, your hand reaching out to fondly brush against Mycroft's before taking your coffee into hand. Bernice watched your movements and raised her brow knowingly.

"Took the pair of you long enough. I had been half tempted to abstain from feeding you here until I got one of you to say something, it had started making me feel a bit sick watching you eye each other up each time you'd get up to order something." You rested your elbow on the table, hand covering your mouth as you let out a laugh.

"Yes, well, I can't promise you the ogling will stop on my behalf." You teased.

"And why should it? Mr Holmes in those posh little outfits is enough to make anyone swoon." And with that she had headed back out into the kitchen again.

"There you go, Myc. Should anything happen to me, my replacement is only round the corner."

"Mmm, and she does make a rather good cup of tea. Perhaps I shouldn't wait that long." His lip raised slightly in a smirk as he took a sip of his hot beverage.

"Oh really? Need I start getting possessive; stand my ground?" Before Mycroft could quip back, Ms Woodall had returned with a plate of biscuits in hand.

"Means you've already answered my next question, anywho." She hummed, placing the plate down between you and perching on the corner of the table beside yours. The pair of you gave her a questioning look and she continued, pointing up to her own forehead. "Tony and I were just as bad at the start of our marriage. Anywhere and everywhere we could get our hands on each other, I ended up with bumps and scrapes from alleys, the backs of cars, even in that one restaurant toilet that time.." You choked on your coffee and Mycroft all but dropped his teacup. "Oh don't act so ignorant, even us oldies had sex in their time." Your eyes caught Mycroft's and you could see him stifling down a laugh, biting softly on his knuckle- which, in itself, shouldn't have been as attractive to you as it was, but it is what it is.

"And with that thought, we best be off. Got a movie date planned." You commented, coughing down your own laugh as Bernice continued.

"Though to be fair it never stopped, all that spontaneity. Even towards the end, he could be like a lad of nineteen with how it was. God the positions, you'd have mistaken me for a gymnast and he could last for ages. I'd just lie there wondering 'will this pleasure never end'?" You could feel tears prick at your eyes as your laughter began to break through. "And then of course once Tony passed a couple years ago it all stopped. Shame really, all those years together, ending how it did.. Though sometimes I'm not sure if it's him that I miss or his massiv-"

"Ms Woodall we really should be going, thank you for breakfast." Mycroft hastily threw a few £20 notes on the table, far too much to cover your meal but enough to distract Bernice while tugging your hand and beelining for the door. Once safely distanced from the apparent nymphomaniac cafe owner you had to stop in your tracks to let out a laugh, Mycroft's hand still in yours as you doubled over.

"I can't believe she said that! She's so open."

"Evidently." Mycroft's comment set you off again, his laughter following, ignoring how you caught the attention of a few people passing by. "I do hope you are in no rush for breakfast there again any time soon, I don't think I can look her in the eye for a good while."

"Still so sure on replacing me with her so soon? I think she'd break you."

"Or turn me into a whore." You snorted and settled back to walking.

---

"Drink?"

"Please. Tea, hold the sexual history."

"I'll try my very best, though, much like my tea, I imagine my list would be abysmal in comparison to old Ms Woodall." You flicked on the kettle, eager to replace the half drunk coffee you had discarded on the cafe table in your escape from listening about pensioner sex. "Will you load up the movie?"

"No. But I shall get the film ready to go.. How the American dialect found its way back to England will never fail to disappoint me." You had followed him into the room shortly after, mugs on the table and settled on the sofa beside Mycroft.

"You know, typically, when people elect for a movie day, they don't choose the tenth movie in the series to watch first." You grinned, tucking your legs beneath your body in an attempt to get comfortable. You continued your shuffling movements and heard Mycroft's voice.

"I believe we both agree that Carry On Cleo is the superior of the 31 movies for, well, a multitude of reasons." He trailed.

"I shan't object. It's sweet that you remember it's the first one we watched together.. Had it not been for you hearing Kenneth's famous 'Infamy, infamy' line persuading you to come over, I fear that I'd have been set up with one of Greg's mates by now, sitting in a pub nursing a G+T."

"I never said I remembered that."

"You didn't have to. You and I both know that your favourite was always Carry on Camping."

"Yes, well.. Opinions change with experience."

"Is this our equivalent of a patronus? Yours has changed and matched with mine? Very cute, Myc. Might I expect you in a 'Never Mind the Bollocks' shirt next week?" You teased, electing to lay down with your head lightly using Mycroft's thigh as a pillow, feeling grateful when he didn't shove you off with a comment about ruining the linen of his trousers, and instead took to softly brushing his fingers over your head, narrowly missing the purple bump each time.

"You'd have better chances of catching me running naked down the street."

"Is that a promise?" A flick to your forehead.

"Just play the bloody film."

---

By the time the film had finished, your cheeks had hurt from smiling and your eyelids had felt heavy. Whilst getting up at a reasonable hour had felt like an achievement this morning, the lack of sleep from the previous night was beginning to catch up to you.

"Myc? Would it be entirely improper to nap on the sofa when there are multiple reasonable beds upstairs before continuing our films?"

"Only about as improper as it is to have a midday nap when you're not a young child." You shifted your head from his lap and sat up, ignoring the fact that you actually did end up ruining the linen of his trousers with the crease of your skull.

"Let me rephrase. Mycroft, would you be willing to break your proper posh boy streak and nap with me on the sofa?"

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to deviate from one's usual behaviours in order to satisfy those one holds dear."

"That's a yes, right? Good, lay down, else I may just collapse right at this moment." Mycroft's sofa certainly was a significantly bit bigger than those usually found in somebody's front room, but it was still nowhere near wide enough for two people to lay with distance. Even still, he followed your request and rotated his body, lifting his long legs to rest down the side of the sofa while you slid into the gap beside him. He eventually circled his arm beneath you and rested his hand on your hip, your face softly brushing against the comforting material of his jumper. "If you drop me, I will be holding you accountable." You mumbled, shifting your body closer to his. He merely hummed, his hand slightly bunching in your shirt and his arm tightening. "I'd always hoped you were secretly a cuddler."

"Make a point of it or tell Sherlock and I'll throw you off." You couldn't even think of a witty comeback before your slumber had taken over, the smell of Mycroft and the sounds of him breathing overstimulating your senses. Mycroft being a secret cuddler hadn't been as much of a shock to you as it probably should have, but you welcome it completely and feel incredibly thankful that he trusts you enough to let you be that close to him, to feel his body in such a way. And you would embrace that- and him- as long as he would let you.

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violetmuses · 3 years ago

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Reunion - H.Z. - Sequel to "Four Walls"

Dedications: @stylesthesunflower @lilith-blackrose Here's the sequel! Thanks so much for reading.

SMUT warning. (18+) Minors DNI.

=================================

2023

Helmut Zemo

“Nice coat.” In the Brass Monkey Saloon, someone had whispered in my ear as I stood near this bar with James and Sam.

“Kristen, what are you doing here?” Staying in character and giving a quick once-over, I stepped closer, lurking my booted steps.

It was not long before I closed space between us, whispering as one of my gloved palms held her left cheek. Without my particular facade, anyone else might’ve frantically panicked around this stranger and blown my cover here in Lowtown.

“I could ask you the same question.” Her cherry perfume returned to invade my nostrils once more.

“Your response is quite unfortunate, Schatzi. Whatever happened to calling me Daddy?” Chuckling quietly, I responded. Even my own lips then dared to kiss her in front of everyone.

As of now, I did not care if James and Sam noticed our reborn chemistry during this mission.

“I’ve been told that uh, you escaped from prison recently.” she bit her lip, and sized me up as well, teasing while sporting dark lipstick all over again. Her wardrobe for the evening had changed of course.

Tonight she wore black fabric once more and showed off the figure that might’ve turned every head in this bar tonight. Again, her dark complexion nearly glowed despite the dim venue lights, still pausing my breath after quite some away.

“This is vital. I'm on a mission with comrades, but I’ve missed you.” I answered genuinely, opening space between us to kiss her hand.

Her hand still felt small and soft within my hold.

“Interesting.” she licked her lips, showing off the same tongue that ruined me eight years ago.

“Don’t do that, not when I can’t react properly.” I lowered my voice, allowing the rasp of my Sokovian accent to speak for itself.

“Aww, no. That's a shame.” she tisked, frowning her painted lips and holding my cheek as well to “irritate” me further.

Wait...” My voice nearly became another trembling whisper just before she could turn away from me.

“Don’t break character.” Waving one of her perfectly manicured nails, she warned me in an almost sing-song tone and closed space between us again. The movement still prompted her cherry fragrance to reach my nose.

“I will not.” I promised by clenching my teeth. My tone somehow bridged these short words between dominance and submission. More and more noise in this bar kept circling around us.

“What about now?” she asked, daring enough to slip her hand between the ends of my coat and grip me through these belted pants. In any other circumstance, I would’ve relished in this naughty moment between us both, but the mission called her attention.

“Let. go.” I nearly growled, even making immediate eye contact with her face.

“I’m so sorry. Was that too much?” Within moments she released the hold, tossing up both hands and frowning once more.

“No, but I truly cannot play right now, my angel. Apologises.” I kissed her cheek, finally allowing myself to give some of reprieve for us.

“Maybe another time, Zemo.” she waved, watching me as I returned to James and Sam near the bar.

______

Later that evening, I snuck out of Sharon’s Hightown apartment and lowered the town car's rear window. Peeking, my eyes then found Kris zooming down the street while riding this motorcycle.

“Follow the bike.” I instructed the driver, who must've already noticed what I’d meant this entire time.

***

“I knew you’d come back.”

Kris stood over me in this living room of another Hightown apartment. My fur coat set around the chair’s backend, leaving both a maroon sweater and these two disarmed shoulder holsters that would possibly become her new favorite toys.

Both of my arms now grasped the chair rests. I bit my lip with nearly hazed eyes and watched her unzip that dark wardrobe from Lowtown. There was only one one rule thus far: for now, Kris hadn’t allowed me to touch her while she undressed.

“A cage kept me away from you.” I rasped, almost not keeping composure as this dark fabric of her clothes finally pooled onto the carpet beneath us here.

“Did you fantasize?” she straddled my hips and wrapped both arms around my neck, prompting me to sit up and adjust before our foreheads touched.

“At times, yes. A man has many urges when left alone.” Resisting this need to smooth my hands along her bare thighs, I admitted some truth from incarceration, nearly hitching my breath.

Lingerie shaped around her perfect body once more. Dim lighting casted this living room with dull-beaming shadows overhead, but I wanted to cherish this moment. I’d missed our intimacy, no matter how manic or desperate we acted beforehand.

“What do you want now?” she whispered into my ear once more, almost giggling for just a moment.

“Kiss me, please?” After sitting up in this chair and adjusting our position again, I kept eye contact and reached out to hold the back of her curls. The style was clearly new within that span of eights apart.

“Sure.” she smiled and leaned in, pressing her lips onto mine.

“You are so pretty.” Whispering through the silence of this living room, I grinned almost bashfully and held her cheek after she pulled away to give our brief distance.

“Aww, thank you.” she lowered her eyes despite wearing lingerie and seemed adorable right now.

“I’m serious.” My finger touched her nose as I smiled again.

“Damn.” she laughed once more in return.

“What, did I hurt your feelings?” Showing worry, I rubbed her thighs, hoping that the compliment wouldn’t be terrible in the end somehow.

“No. You’ve been perfect tonight. I just…” her voice trailed off, concerning me even more.

“I will leave right now if you do not wish for me to stay.” I promised, still holding her cheek.

“No, I want you to stay, but what about your new mission?” Her sweet voice whispered, silently hoping that I wouldn’t turn back into the same monster wrecked havoc after we first made love. Everyone learned of those news reports in 2016.

“I will deal with those problems tomorrow. Tonight, another mission does not matter.” I shook my head, only viewing this sight of an angel who found me again.

“What is important?” she asked, nearly sounding inaudible while replying to me.

“You.” I kissed her deeply, closing both eyes as if we were the only people left on Earth.

No pain, no war, only her and me.

_________

This time, we did not rush.

Even after we became naked underneath the covers, I wouldn’t even taste her right away. Instead, I found myself kissing her again at first, casting the shadow of my body over her and whispering praises by the dim light of that bedside lamp.

I thumbed the side of her mouth after we kissed again, letting that one curl of my combed brown hair fall out of place. Laying beneath me, she smiled and reached upward to still finger with the gold chain that clasped around my neck once more.

Unbeknownst to James and Sam, I’d made another silence point to find the necklace shortly after escaping prison, already thinking of my past with this angel. She loved it, playing with the jewelry with the near-awe of a child, even now.

“I’ll get one someday.” she jokingly pouted and stopped touching my chain, sitting up against pillows and the head boards. Condoms filled the bedside drawer, but I’d still need to wait for her out of respect like a gentleman.

“A chain?” I smiled, thumbing her cheek for a moment as we sat up against the pillows.

“Yes,” she scooted closer and used one hand to turn my face.

“Would you like me to buy one for you?” Rather than moving towards her lips, I placed kisses along her neck, daring to move us along further tonight.

“No, I can…” Her words then trembled, pausing as I heard this subtle whimper instead.

“What was that?” I chuckled lowly before setting out tongue, glistening that same place near her ear and collarbone.

She leaned in and closed space between us before I deepened the licks or kisses that now ran along her perfect complexion. When our nude bodies first collided this way years ago, I’d nearly exploded, silently wishing to never leave her side by morning.

“Please come back to me.” Her darkened curls tangled through my fingers as she begged, clearly remembering the first time we shut out this cruel world.

“I’m right here, Schatzi.” I lowered my voice, realizing that our sweetness would end instantly.

“Show me.” she dared once more, still facing me with lustful eyes.

“Lay back down.” I instructed before biting my lip. In turn, she listened, eyeing the dangled gold of my chain that she still adored.

By now, I laid over her and shadowed that loose strand of my hair once more, but three low words of mine should have echoed through the walls if possible.

“Hold on.” she whispered below me, reaching up and using her left finger to “hush” my own lips.

“Yes?” I gave another once-over and licked my lips this time. She had wrapped both legs around my waist here. Her curls draped onto these covers, blending as if painted into the fabric somehow.

“Where’s the condom?” she arched her brow.

“Right here.” I glanced over my shoulder and noticed that its small package was still sitting unused on the bed.

“Good boy.” she teased. Once I’d set the condom between my fingers, she approved, smiling right back.

“I’ve always been prepared. How would you like to start?” I bit my lip, hoping that she’d still approve.

“Fuck me.” Her voice was nearly inaudible once more, almost pleading for us to skip foreplay this time.

“Oh, wow. You don’t even miss my tongue?” I tilted my head, showing off that one loose curl that drove her mad last time. Even my golden chain swung as well.

“Fuck. Me.” Even as she perched underneath me, the base of her own voice nearly growled, still demanding through consent.

“I will.” I accepted, already ripping the condom’s package open with my teeth. She sat up for a moment, quickly sliding the condom onto my erection.

“Hurry, I need you.” she whimpered again, still asking for me to give back what had been hers long ago.

“I promise.” I set myself near her dripping entrance, closing my eyes just before filling her core.

“Yes!” she cried out, already gliding her hips along with mine here.

Even I had shuddered on the impact of our movement and nearly teared up as memories soon reached my thoughts.

“You’re still warm.” I trembled, still meeting the rhythm of our bodies as the covers tangled over and over again.

Sweat immediately trickled down my face and glistened onto my neckline, threatening to fall on her as we laid chest to chest.

“Faster.” she pleaded, just as she had years ago in my hotel room.

At that moment, my thrusts into her tight core had deepened, nearly forcing her to scream out loud. I’d tried to stop her moans by leaning in with kisses, but she only whimpered again between each touch of my lips.

“Quiet, Schatzi.” My finger carefully ran along her lips, daring. Yet, she failed deliciously, allowing these moans to still echo through our walls.

“I’m gonna come…” she heaved, twisting her gorgeous face as this wonderful orgasm controlled her entire body, one that I gifted to her again.

Even after she calmed down, I still hadn’t moved from her core. Her warmth eased me when our bodies clashed in this way. Dim lighting of her own bedroom casted overhead, shining onto her dark complexion.

“I’ve missed you.” I admitted this truth by smiling again, gently sliding out of her core and discarding that condom despite these words.

“I missed you too.” she whispered, kissing me shortly afterwards.

________

That next morning, I first woke to hear the shower running behind this closed ensuite door, but the water stopped moments later and Kristen emerged, wearing a towel robe and padding her bare footsteps towards the bed.

“Good morning, but shouldn’t you be gone?” she laughed, leaning in to kiss my lips.

“Yes, but Sam and James have not looked for me.” I shrugged.

“Not yet.” she tisked.

“Fair enough.” I allowed myself to leave these covers and entered the bathroom, taking my own shower, but still hanging back into the wardrobe from the night before.

****

“It's time for us to say farewell again.” I stood in the doorway of Kristen’s Hightown apartment not long after we shared breakfast together.

Earlier, I’d realized that James and Sam had left countless messages and missed calls on my burner phone, signaling this need for me to leave Kristen once more.

“I guess so.” she whispered, tucking a curl behind her ear. She had changed her outfit, but wore very little makeup.

“If we don’t cross paths for a third time...” I slowly stepped closer towards and held the back of her head as my bare fingers nearly tangled through again. Yet, my words trailed off when our foreheads touched.

When we both closed our eyes, I knew that she wanted to embrace me and feel the warmth of my sweater, but she pulled back, giving distance.

“Go.” she whispered back, as if reading my mind. I did not wish to leave, knowing that the rest of the world could never understand us.

And yet, my booted footsteps sadly moved away, leaving her alone.

#smut warning #daniel bruhl smut #zemo x oc #black oc #zemo smut #fanfic smut #sequel #sad ending

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snowbellewells · 4 years ago

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CSSS20 Fic: “One Little Ray of Hope”

Merry Merry Christmas @let-it-raines!!! Can you believe we ended up being each other’s Secret Santas?!? It was all I could do not to spoil the surprise yesterday when you posted your amazing story gift for me, but here I am finally with yours in return, and I truly hope you will enjoy it.

You mentioned that you like friends-to-lovers and mutual pining, which I genuinely tried to do to the best of my ability. However, I discovered neither of those things are actually types of fic I have done much. This comes out more like bantering crushes, and Emma-in-denial-finally-admitting-what-everyone-else-already-knows. I did set it in the Enchanted Forest for you, and I tried to mix in the humor and the feels so it has a bit of everything. And there are Christmas touches but it isn’t holiday overwhelming. I got to the stopping place I envisioned though, and it just wasn’t enough. I hope you will forgive me if I say this is only Part One and there will be a Part Two coming shortly once the holiday hoopla dies down. (In all honesty, I was anxious that my story was for you - I love your writing so much, and I am not at all sure this measures up! And then I read your gift and was even more blown away.) Still, here’s hoping this brings a smile to a shipmate like you who has been so friendly and kind and made me smile with your writing all year long! Part Two - and hopefully some fic cover art - to follow soon!)

“One Little Ray of Hope”

by: @snowbellewells

Though the fire in the stone hearth was blazing merrily, the lights from their lamps combatted the dark sky and frigid wind blasting flurries of snow outside their windows, and the jovial voices of many of their regulars mingled on the air to make things cozy inside the little inn and tavern, Emma Swan still shivered at the winter's chill. There, was some hint of frost that wouldn't go away, forming small icy crystals inside her chest - one particular voice that always stood out from the rest to her ears, was missing. She cursed herself for noticing, cursed him for being so unmistakable, and slammed an empty tankard onto her tray as she cleared the just-vacated table more violently than she had meant to.

Naturally Ruby would be passing by just then, on her way to wait on some exuberant new arrivals, and she playfully arched one of her dark brows with a teasing smirk. "Looks like someone's a little frustrated this evening."

From over her shoulder, where Emma hadn't even realized anyone was nearby, Tink tittered with a playful little giggle to Ruby, "Well, you know, we do seem to be short some of Emma's favorite guests this evening…" pirate was not her special anything. Honestly, she was just tired, overworked, overheated, and ready for some fresh air away from the evening crowd. It didn't have anything to do with the fact that Captain Killian Jones, with his unfairly blue eyes and his stomach-flipping accent wasn't here pestering her and getting in her way. What did she care if his farewell to her before he set sail nearly two months' back was that he would return in time for the Yuletide festivities? False hope and nonsense, all of it anyway…

And yet… tomorrow was Christmas day, her traitorous mind whispered as she plunked her heavy tray of dishes on the counter where the Widow Lucas - the proprietor of their inn, and 'Granny' to all of them - was serving up orders and Ashley was doing dishes as fast as she could to serve warm bread and hearty stew on them once more. Again, her approach was none too gentle, as she huffed out a breath of air and pushed her hair from her face impatiently.

"Careful there, my girl. Any dishes you break will be comin' from your pay," the widow threatened idly. Granny put on a tough front - one had to in a rough and tumble harbor town - and she meant business if she had to bring out her crossbow from where she kept it close to hand beneath the counter, but she was a soft heart beneath the necessary bluster and hard shell. She loved all "her girls" and most of her patrons dearly, wanting them to know they were welcome and cared for in her inn - and while many like she and her granddaughter had little in the way of blood-related family, she aimed to give them a feeling of home in her place.

Emma smiled slightly, acknowledging Granny's words without comment, despite knowing the older woman would do no such thing. She unloaded the dirtied tankards and bowls more carefully into the soapy water for Ashley and forced herself to draw a couple of deep breaths as Granny loaded her up with the next order.

Just as Emma moved to lift the tray and move off again, Granny placed her own hand over Emma's kindly, keeping her there until Emma met her eyes. "Don't let Ruby irk you. She means no harm," was the quietly offered advice, to which Emma nodded sagely, already knowing as much. It was only when Granny winked and added, "Of course, if you're awaiting some handsome sailor, I wager he'll be here soon," that Emma let out an exasperated huff and spun away to the sound of her boss and pseudo-grandmother's laughter at her back. Shaking her head, she seethed, 'Everyone thinks I'm waiting for Jones…. Well, I'm not!'

The night went on without much further interruption; the snow fell in continued flakes, swirled and eddied by the window and pilling up on the windowsills. Inside their crowded tavern, however, the cozy warmth continued to rise right along with the songs and laughter of those gathered within. Soon Emma found her face flushed, cheeks pinked from the heat and close quarters. Even as the gathered crowd began to dwindle, slowly trickling out the door and homeward in twos and threes, as she, Ruby, Tink, and Ashley began to wipe down empty tables and see to storing up leftover food and seeing drinks stoppered and sealed for the night. Granny had gone upstairs nearly an hour before as the midnight hour had come and gone, claiming her old bones needed the rest, and Mulan, who did not appear the musical type, but who had once confessed when more than a bit tipsy on dwarf mead that her parents had seen that she was learn all sorts of marriageable skills in the hopes of seeing her matched with a smart, dashing husband before she had left hoe to make her own way - had switched from plunking out bawdy sea shanties and reels for the gathered revelers and lighting begun pecking out chords to a few softer and slower Yuletide carols as a background accompaniment to the cleaning and the quieter murmurs of those who still lingered in conversation over their last drinks.

Not long after, Ruby silently slipped out the kitchen exit in back with the solemn huntsman who came every night to break bread and drink not at all other than to drink in her presence and bask in her company had stood and followed her like a silent shade as she beckoned from the doorway. Ashley had headed upstairs herself for some rest in her own apartments, as had Tink, saying the last town gazette's gossip section was calling her name. Mulan had paused at the door before heading to her own house a couple streets over, telling Emma she would make rounds of the block first, to see that all stragglers had gone home, and no trouble was lingering about them before she left.

Emma thanked the beautiful warrior sincerely, knowing that it was no more or less than the other woman did every night, determined that these friends who took her and all others at face value, welcoming all lost and weary travelers without trying to change them were safe and secure. She would see no harm come to the Widow Lucas and her adopted "sisters" on her watch; Emma knew Mulan took that charge upon herself as a sworn duty. The rest of them would never have put such weight on her shoulders, but each one of them also slept easier knowing Mulan was nearby. The slim build, shining curtain of silky black hair and delicate features could have long ago earned Mulan the hand of any prince, pirate, or nobleman who laid eyes on her, but those physical attributes all deceptively hid her strength, speed, and core of deadly steel if anyone threatened harm to those she loved.

"We'll be alright," Emma assured again, as Mulan bid her goodnight. "Everyone was in good spirits this evening. No fights, no trouble. Please rest easy once you get home. I can't imagine anything should happen until we see you again tomorrow."

"As you say," the raven-haired woman replied simply, and with a slight dip of her head in a bow, she turned and slipped into the night with such soundless agility and grace that she seemed to melt into the darkness - unseen in mere seconds.

Closing the door at last, Emma latched it securely, making certain the tavern and rooms above were locked properly for the night. She then began to move about the large, open main room, blowing out the candles still left aglow on scattered tabletops and snuffing out the wall sconces as well as she made a final pass around the main space. At last her final chores were complete, one last lit candle in her hand as she stood before the front window, looking down the moonlit street toward the docks for a moment longer. Captain Jones and his crew had yet to be seen in town, and while she could tell the others she didn't care - could even tell herself that in the light of day - here alone in the silent frosty night, Emma couldn't help wondering where he might be, and if he were well.

"Jones, if you're out there," she murmured, hoping only the snow and ice and the Christmas star would hear her, "Take care or yourself… and be safe 'til we meet again."

She had crossed the darkened room, placed her hand on the stair rail and was on the first step up to the second floor, when she heard the lightest rapping at the side door into the alley. Pausing there, Emma held her breath, listening uncertainly for the knock again, hardly daring to hope. She only had her candle in hand, the shadows long around her. Were Ruby and her huntsman still outside keeping each other warm despite the winter's chill? Could there be a prowler who had lain in wait until their self-appointed guardian had left for the night, or might it be the visitor she had been promised? The face she had looked for in anticipation every time the inn's door had opened to welcome a new patron that night? She would deny it to anyone, but those dark brows arched up into his windswept hair in challenge or jest, over eyes as blue as his beloved ocean, had been sorely missed; she had hoped to see him home again for Christmas more than she wanted to allow herself.

She drew nearer to the side entrance, not wishing to give any her presence if the person on the other side bore ill intent, but straining to hear all the same; seeking some sign she was right and to confirm the feeling she had about who awaited on the other side. Gathering her courage, Emma reached for the fireplace poker beside the large stone hearth. Its embers were now dead for the night, but only a short while ago it had been blazing hotly, heating the entire space. She was not some frightened child at any rate; she'd hold her own against any intruder if the opened door led to a nasty surprise.

Sure enough, the rapping came again, more firmly and with the added hushed entreaty, "Swan? Are you still about, Lass? Emma Swan! It's Captain Jones if you're still about and wish to see your sailor!"

Her concerns brushed aside at the tones of that voice she could not mistake, Emma let the metal of her makeshift weapon clatter against the stone as it dropped from her fingers. With an exuberant little cry, she was at the door and lifting the latch in a second. The candle in her hand flickered and nearly went out with the stunned breath that left her upon glimpsing his handsome form once again after so long away.

To his credit, Jones didn't tease; instead looking rather stunned himself as his gaze appeared busy drinking her in as well. Soon, he slipped inside out of the blustery chill and, seeing that her hand holding lighted taper was shaking considerably, he took it from her with care and reached to light the nearest sconce, casting their immediate surroundings with enough warm glow by which to see.

Finally, she regained enough of her faculties to speak, and Emma stuttered, "It seemed you were not coming, Captain. Ruby mocked me all day for my foul temper and Tink joined in of course to say it was due to my missing and certain pirate and his crew. The busybodies!" she scoffed. But then she reached across the space between hem to catch his hand. "I did worry you might have been arrested, or hurt, or wrecked…or lost…any number of things. Or perhaps I gave you no clear assurance, and instead you had moved on, not to return."

Killian shook his head just barely, looking troubled that she could even think he would abandon or fail her so easily. "Hardly Lass," he stated fervently, a sort of fiery glow in his eyes she had not seen before. I did say I would return by Yuletide, did I not? A pirate I might be, but I still have my honor. It would take more than the increased vigilance of the Evil Queen and her forces to keep me away."

Emma sucked in a worried breath at the cause of his delay. They all hoped to keep far under the notice of the usurper monarch - as cold and cruel as she was darkly attractive, she would end a life as easily as snapping her fingers, and at the slightest provocation, real or imagined. Life had been all the harder and more fraught with danger since Regina had wrested the crown from her kind and gentle stepdaughter Snow White, the rightful heir to the crown. If Killian were wanted by Queen Regina and had snuck back into her borders only to keep his promise, Emma could not bear to consider what would happen if he were discovered.

Now was the moment of truth, before anymore needless time slipped past. It was time she told him what she had realized while no teasing friends or rowdy onlookers were listening in. "I missed you," she finally managed to croak out around the lump in her throat. "Thank you… Killian…for keeping your word."

He dipped his head to look into her eyes where she had dropped her gaze to her feet. A strong, calloused hand, warm and gentle in its intent, tipped her chin back up to stare into his searching gaze. "Of course, Swan - Emma. All I could have wished for this holiday was…" he paused, his tongue darting out to wet his lips nervously and a hand coming up to worry the spot behind his ear - gesture she had long ago noticed signified nervousness. But he plunged on determinedly, "was to see you again, to see you and give you this."

Pulling a small pouch from some inner pocket of his long leather jacket, he held it out to her with sparkling eyes, appearing almost boyish for a moment in his eagerness to see her open his gift, and whispering "Happy Christmas, Emma," as he placed it in her upturned palm.

Emma's mouth formed a surprised "O", having not expected or hoped for anything more than his safe return. Opening the ties, she tilted the soft material until the item within spilled out in her hand. Holding up a long, golden chain with an exquisite stone of lovely pale green, near to jade in color, swinging from it, she was enchanted by the pendant he had brought her. "Oh, it's gorgeous," she breathed, rather stunned at how nice the piece of jewelry was. She wore (or even owned, to be honest) little of such finery.

"It's sea glass," Killian explained, taking the piece back in nimble fingers when she offered it, then turned, lifting her long hair so he could place the chain around her neck and fasten it for her. "Though sailors believe sea glass is good luck, that it keeps the wearer safe, and I would always wish you to be so, I knew it had to be yours because of the color. It reminded me vividly of your eyes…" Though the necklace was secured, his fingers still grazed featherlight along her skin, causing prickles of awareness to course throughout her body, and his own voice had turned decidedly husky.

At last, Emma turned to face him once more, breaking the trance between them, but needing to thank him, and for him to see how touched she was by his gift, even if her voice was breathless and her words trembled with emotion. "I don't know what to say. You shouldn't have, but I adore it all the same. I'll treasure it, Killian. Truly." And without further hesitation or pausing to think and second guess, Emma threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly to her. "Thank you," she whispered against his chest, breathing in the salty, spicy essence of him and nuzzling against his chest. She realized with a force that almost knocked her off her feet that she never wanted to let go.

She felt Killian Jones' fingers thread through her hair, stroking gently, reverently as they stood there wrapped up in each other, swaying slightly in the candle glow and the howl of the wind outside. Emma felt they might indeed stay that way forever, and that neither of them would mind at all, until more rapid knocking interrupted their silent moment. The door handle rattled urgently, and she heard a nervous voice she recognized as Killian's first mate's speaking in hurried words. "Cap'n, you told me to summon you when an hour had gone. I've already seen one patrol of black guard go by. If they notice the Jolly in the harbor…"

"Aye, Smee," he gritted out, stopping the anxious flow of words. "Head back and make ready to sail. I'll follow in a moment."

He sighed as he turned back to Emma, tracing his thumb over the apple of her cheek and pausing to caress the dimple in her chin as he cradled her face in his hand.

"You have to go," she acknowledged reluctantly; hating it, but understanding and wanting to see him safe, just as he did her. Her words were wistful, wishing he could stay there with her - or that she could run away with him - but it was too much, too quickly, no matter how she dreaded being parted again so soon.

"I must, for now," he affirmed, the regret lacing every syllable of his words. "But I hope that now you know I will return."

She nodded mutely, her mind trying to memorize every detail of his face, his voice, his touch, until she could see him again. "And I will be here waiting for you," she promised with equal intent.

Bending slightly, Killian brushed his lips against her cheek, his stubble tickling her skin and again making her shiver at the sensation. It was the lightest and most gallant of kisses, and yet it only served to make her burn for more - for him to take her in his arms, for those firm lips to kiss her everywhere, for him to take her to her own apartments, or back to his cabin. It would keep her burning for however long they might be kept apart.

As he had to leave, heading out again into the dark night, Emma stood at the door watching until the very second his vanished from her sight, no longer able to deny how anxiously she would await his return.

#csss20 #cs EF au ff #cs two shot #gift for @let-it-raines #one little ray of hope #part one #cs secret santa 2020

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calorieworkouts · 4 years ago

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What does mindfulness *actually* mean? I tried a beginner`s yoga class to find out

I am definitely not a yoga exercise professional-- unless being one means you dual tap Instagram photos of yogis twisted into apparently difficult positions with awe (as well as a touch of envy) on the reg. I have spent a decent regarding of time on the mat, from sessions meant to be so restorative they verge on a snooze, to courses that are sweat-dripping-in-your-eyes, heart-poundingly intense.

But the one kind of course strangely enough missing from my arsenal was one especially geared toward beginners. Like a great deal of new yogis, I originally jumped head-first right into yoga. My first-ever class was most definitely means as well advanced for my degree of (no) experience-- as well as I hid in the back and really hoped for the very best.

In an initiative to touch much more into the internal benefits of yoga, I made a decision to go all the method back to the basics.

I've come a lengthy method ever since, however have just recently discovered myself intending to take my dedication to yoga exercise up a notch. So in an effort to tap extra right into the internal benefits of yoga exercise (and maybe get one action better to sticking one of those mind-bendingly bendy poses), I determined to copulate back to the basics.

I enrolled in a YogaWorks Degree 1 class, which the supervisors ensured me was ideal for someone completely brand-new to yoga (so it met my fresh-start need). As a workshop that's been around for decades (they're commemorating their 30th anniversary in September) I figured I might trust YogaWorks' guideline, considering its technique guarantees genuine, traditional-style yoga exercise with a focus on establishing mindfulness.

So, a lady walked right into a poorly lit workshop armed with a floor covering and also an open mind. Here's what I discovered.

Scroll down for 4 reasons a back-to-the-basics yoga experience could be for you.

To get even more in tune with your body

The first point I discovered was the rate of the class. It was much slower than your regular vinyasa circulation course, which allowed me time to work out right into each pose without seeming like I had to rush right into the following one to stay on par with my neighbor.

In turn, I paid more focus to how my body was feeling ( and also realized I was a lot much more aching from my workout the previous day than I had thought). The trainer, Caitlin Casella, clarified to me after course that the calm pace is what commonly attracts more innovative trainees to take her Level 1 class.

' Several of the usual Level 3 students occasionally take a Degree 1 class since it just feels right for their body on that particular day,' Casella states. 'Possibly they're weary or aching from one more workout, or it just really feels secure on their body and on their joints.' Inspect, as well as check.

To learn the 'right' way to do each pose

During the course, Casella committed a great deal of time to explaining exactly how to line up your body to get into the position. She had us pay added attention to the angle of our hips in presents like tree as well as warrior 2, which assisted me realize that my variation of warrior was more twisted than it required to be.

' Slower classes permit time for inquiry as well as playing so you can learn optimum positioning for the pose and the body,' Casella discusses. 'There might not be one optimum positioning for a specific posture, yet there may be an optimum positioning for that present for your body."

Learning the best method to place my body eventually aided me really feel like I was obtaining more out of it (Also Known As my quads were most definitely melting).

To learn something new

If your objective is to toenail a handstand, you may think an innovative course is where you need to be. However Casella says much more knowledgeable trainees go back to the lower level classes when they have their views established on including a new position to their arsenal.

' Some pupils are blown away when they go back to a Level 1 course by what they in fact learn," Casella says. "Advanced pupils wind up discovering a lot by decreasing. Think of it such as this: You have to go slow-moving to learn just how to talk a new language. Numerous progressed trainees circle back to degree 1 since they're asking their bodies to do something new.'

To figure out what mindfulness truly means

The greatest job in my back-to-basics test was to tackle my understanding of mindfulness. I obtain that yoga is designed to aid you get rid of your mind-- but what does that in fact look like?

' Some circulation classes with songs can relocate right into amusement, as well as inevitably, home entertainment in any form is diversion for your mind,' Casella states. 'I assume going slower and being still can actually be an advanced method due to the fact that it makes you rest with what's inside your mind.'

In the YogaWorks 1 class, Casella provided a difficulty: Use the slower speed to allow on your own to notice how sidetracked you obtain. For me, the solution was a lot. Without having to function so difficult to keep up with the course, my brain began churning. Not only was I taking mental notes for what I was going to write in this article (guilty), I was additionally planning what I intended to eat for dinner.

But each time my mind roamed, I advised myself, come back to the breath. ( Just how lots of times have you listened to a teacher claim that in a course?)

After, I really felt like I ultimately understood what that implied. Listening to my breath had not been simply an additional disturbance. It aided me pay focus to myself and what my body needed, and ultimately, that's a method bigger present than considering tomorrow's to-do listing. Because honestly, it can wait.

In partnership with YogaWorks

#abs workout #exercise #exercise plan #weight #work out #workout #workout plans #workout routines #workouts

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vapormaison · 5 years ago

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2019 Best Japanese OST Press/Repress: Elfen Lied by Tiger Lab Records

Like many late millennials with artistic pretensions, I used to have an “Anituber” channel back in the wild west days of youtube. From 2010-2013 — roughly corresponding with my first three years in university — I reviewed DVD releases from ADV, Manga Entertainment, Central Park Media, and Geneon — all the big players in Western anime releases at the time, all dead and gone now with the rise of streaming. Everyone but Funimation — a sad irony and perhaps telling about the nature of the dubbing industry that the studio with a serial rape problem and established casting couch was the only one to survive.

In the interest of maintaining my personal ethics, posterity, and sanity I’ve long since deleted that channel. While there was definitely a “moment” on the platform for a nineteen year-old cokehead film student in front of a MacBook webcam doing his best Slavoj Zizek impression, that moment has long since passed. I’ve long since cooled on “substantive” media critique anyway. The world doesn’t need another Eisenstein-aligned Marxist analysis of Neon Genesis Evangelion — or, a 6-part series on using Lacanian techniques to develop a leftist praxis for Fate/Stay Night. Media exists in the present moment to be a salve for the postmodern hellscape we inhabit together.

As an interesting sidebar, the most popular video on that channel — raking in just north of 10k views over its lifetime from 2011-2015, was a twelve minute video essay on the 1995 anime Elfen Lied, where I asserted that it was the ultimate expression of contemporary Japanese anti-modern rage. While I don’t find myself particularly nostalgic for any of the content on that channel, I’m actually kind of proud of that one in particular.

While most of my analysis was fixated on the visuals, narrative, and recent oeuvre of its mangaka, Lynn Okamoto, and series director, Mamoru Kanbei, I did lay out a framework on why I consider it to be one of the most successful soundtracks ever produced for an anime. I did not heap this praise lightly, as that roughly fifteen year period of 1995-2010 was bookended by the OSTs of Evangelion and K-On! — and certainly proved to be one of the most sonically iconic periods that the medium has ever produced.

it was also one of the first soundtracks that spurred my own history of Japanese OST collection.

And, then, almost a decade later, I found out that Tiger Lab was releasing a vinyl of Elfen Lied.

In spite of this, when I originally the news, I felt a tinge of trepidation. This is not to throw shade at Tiger Lab, however — but at the reputation of previous releases of the Elfen Lied soundtrack in Japan. A quick adventure with google translate across the Japanese net for various Elfen Lied OST roleases — especially on CD — will reveal for you a lot of contempt from Otaku and anime-enthusiast audiophiles for any number of reasons. Most hinge on the quality of the physicals. This is often because Japanese physical media releases of anime soundtracks are often laden with fresh, exceptionally crisp and clean-sounding masters for CDs, and usually exclusive posters and other content geared toward the “collector” nature of many Otaku. This has usually not been the case with Elfen Lied.

A friend of mine in Kanagawa quipped “Sometimes it sounds better on the DVD” in regard to a number of OST releases of soundtracks from anime produced by Studio Arms with CD releases published by VAP. Admittedly, some of it must have been born in resentment, but I’ve always trusted the man’s opinion — as he’s invested a small family fortune into building a shrine of sorts to that studio’s output. He chalks up the poor release quality to the studio’s inability or lack of funds to master the content properly for a CD or HQ digital release, and VAP’s decline in release quality during the early 2000s roughly corresponding to a sale to another Zaibatsu. “Studio Arms made hentai for many years to stay solvent, maybe they could not send a good master to VAP [the publisher]” he told me. While I can’t know if it’s VAP, Arms or another studio handling the CD-master work, a cursory check of their oeuvre seems to confirm confirms that claim of his — but I acknowledge I’m wandering into uncharted waters here.

In spite of all that — I ordered the wax from Tiger Lab and was duly impressed. In lieu of reviewing each track as per my usual review format, in the following section I want to talk about my listening experience from the two formats I own the soundtrack in — the SA/VAP published CD from 2004 and Tiger Lab’s release. Once we finish going into the core differences — and why this vinyl is absolutely worth your purchase over competing physicals — I’ll go into the virtues of the listening experience on the whole.

Part 1: Comparisons of Select Tracks

I suppose the expectation is that I start off by taking about the most iconic recording from the series — the OP, Lilium. In the spirit of defying expectations, I’ll begin with what I consider a better litmus test.

My personal shit-test for a good master and press is how well it can handle a track that is sonically robust and diverse, crossing genre and form — requiring an intensive, sufficiently wide mix and refined master. You don’t get that on every OST album — but Elfen Lied offers one such potential track in particular, and that particular track happens to be my favorite composition on the entire album. Uso Sora, composed by Kayo Konishi and Yukio Kondo is a truly magnificent piece, and it’s used brilliantly in the series — for those familiar, I only need to quote one line: “M-m-mommy…?”.

It begins with lulling piano chords that gradually build in tempo and energy with the addition of percussion, and then it undergoes a full metamorphosis in its last minute or so to become an aggressive, frenetic techno piece with distorted lows and an angry drum kit. Mirroring the evolution of its subject in the show with understated aplomb, and functioning as a robust and enjoyable composition divorced from its source — it really deserve more recognition than it receives, but I do not doubt it will ever step forth from the massive shadow cast from the haunting chorals of Lilium, and the brilliantly directed visual intro that accompanied it.

Needless to say, Tiger Lab more than passed muster here, to the point where I’m almost blown away by just how good it sounds compared to the rest of my Elfen Lied related physicals. I experienced a definite brightness from the vinyl master over my stereo that I don't get from a lot of other Western label releases, like say Milano, which tends to cash in on a Westerner’s preference for warmth. Tiger Lab deserves credit for this approach, because it genuinely feels like a more authentically “Japanese” sound. In my experience, the Western labels that care the most about the dedicated audiophile adhere to this sonic profile, and Tiger Lab deserves all due credit here.

Finally, I might as well include my thoughts on Lilium. In short, it sounds fantastic. The mix here really brings out the most of the chorals, and provides crisp and clean sounds where you want them most. It’s also one of those tracks where you can just feel the dynamic range before you even hear it. I ended up listening to these on my Cambridges, and I’ve got to say that’s there’s something in the way they treat this particular profile of song — strongly vocal dominated, extremely muted piano, and supporting string inhabiting the negative space — absolutely incredibly. It put the KEFs to shame. I’ve always asserted that you’ve got to pair certain songs with certain speaker pairs. I’ve never been a huge devotional music guy, and I’m not entirely sure that the Cambridge or KEFs provide ideal profiles for the track. That said, Lilium sounds great anyway.

But I can envision these on a pair of high end Yamahas, or a pair of vintage Blaupunkt bookshelves sounding as stone-cold killer as Lucy when Kouta’s threatened.

I sent a rip to my friend Hiroshi, the StudioArms Shrine man, who immediately snapped up a copy after listening. I also learned that it was actually the first vinyl purchase he’s ever made after two decades of serious collecting. So perhaps that is a testament in and of itself!

Part 2: Physicality

I rarely devote an entire section to talking about the vinyl/OBI itself, but then again, Tiger Lab has put out a release certainly worthy of this. First off, the cover, which pairs perfectly with the overall aesthetic of both the series and previous soundtrack releases. I can imagine this being a release that has already attracted some attention by Japanese collectors, as the cover seems to tap into a certain sense of continuity that I know are a huge hit with that community. It certainly pairs well with my two releases from VAP, and a laserdisc set that I have. They all opt for that very iconic Klimt Vienna Secession style with appropriate creative flourishes — but I like Tiger Lab’s take on it the most. The side characters populating the back in a choral array reminiscent of the Beethoven Frieze is also a really nice touch for any enthusiast of the fin-de-siècle style.

I picked up the pink vinyl on release, one of the few pink vinyls that I’ve bought that at least feels thematically consistent with the release and not just a default “vaporwave” or “city pop” or “future funk” styling. Diclonii rock the pink hair, after all. That all said, I’m wishing now that I got the “metallic gold” edition, as its another color that feels both apropos and stunningly beautiful. With all that in mind, this is also one of the better waxes that I’ve felt in-hand, and manages to feel robust. I’ve yet to find specific info, but it certainly feels like a 180g.

In conclusion, I’ve got to give immense credit to Tiger Lab for handling this release with a class and vigor that few Japanese publishers have given it. It certainly bodes well for the future of anime releases on vinyl, and makes me eager to fill out an emergent collection.

#ost #elfen lied #bestof2019

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wrienne · 5 years ago

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My Cheating, Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 1: Cheater

"My blood, sweat and tears..."

It had been a spontaneous decision for you to follow when your best friend, Se-Eun, had a ticket to spare when her other friend called in sick. It was one of the most expensive seats, almost directly in front of the stage, and she didn't think she could find someone else in the last twenty minutes before the show. She was a huge fan, a type of fan to buy everything even remotely connected to the boy band - yes, even useless things like paperweights - with her biggest bias being the one and only Jeon Jungkook.

Your worst nightmare. Oh, and also - your fiancé.

Of course, she didn't know the latter part. Nobody did, or you wouldn't be standing in one of the front rows, still breathing. She only knew about you and Jungkook's long-lasting family ties, and that the two of you often celebrated holidays together. There was of course some media surrounding you and Jungkook since you were the alleged heiress of Phoenix Inc., your late grandfather's enormous international company, and he was, well, Jeon Jungkook, the "Golden Maknae", the rabbit, the "Idol that was scouted by 8 different entertainment agencies", every girl's secret wet dream - yes, you had heard it all from Se-Eun and her friends. It was too much information, to be honest.

To you, he would always be the kid who thought Legolas was the dwarf and Gimli was the elf and that the two were counting because they had some kind of problem. He would also be the kid always ignoring you during family get-togethers and who would disassemble everything you ever liked. He would be the kid who always looked away when Hye-Bin and her pets had harassed you during all of first grade to graduation.

Or at least, that's what you had thought before you had seen him on stage, live, for the first time. Suddenly, you found it hard to believe you had ever met him outside the stadium - or knew him at all.

The hair was recently dyed and cut, he probably wore more make-up than you and he donned, most likely, deliberately tight pants. He moved with the determined elegance only practice and practice and even more practice could have granted him and sang, while dancing vigorously, with more steadiness than you could have pulled off while seated. You two were the same age, 20, yet you realized numbly that he, truly and undoubtedly, had reached a prime time in his life. He wasn't a boy any longer.

And frankly, that kind of frightened you.

When the song ended, deafening screams and thunderous applauds resounded throughout the stadium. Grimacing and drilling your fingers into your ears, you watched as the lights on stage quickly dimmed, erasing the sight of Jungkook and the other six members. Just when you thought it was safe to relax, a new tune began, causing the shouting and yelling to erupt anew - especially from your right where Se-Eun and her friends Min-Ji and Yeon-Woo stood. You didn't understand what was happening - not until a spotlight centered on the middle of the stage, illuminating the shape of one person.

Jungkook raised a microphone to his lips and began singing.

"The fifteen-year-old me who didn't have anything..."

You simply stared. During his whole performance, you were as spellbound. There was such passion, such emotion in his voice and his face - even the slightest movements of his fingers when they sometimes flexed and relaxed around the microphone intrigued you.

Mostly, because it shocked you.

During your whole life while growing up together, he had never exhibited any particular emotion at all. He was mostly stiff or quiet or even sardonic. But at that moment, dancing and singing on stage, he was as vulnerable as he had ever been.

You had only witnessed such exposure once.

He finished the song with a few lasting tones and a final dance move to match the beat. The lights had dimmed, yet you discerned in the darkness his wiry outline against the backdrop. You stared in wonder, taking in the sensual curl of his lips, his semi-lidded eyes and the sweat trickling down his temples and neck. You fleetingly spotted the boy who once had too large of a nose to match his face, but that image was quickly replaced by the man you and the ten thousand other pairs of eyes could see.

He was beautiful.

By the end of the concert, you were almost deaf. Se-Eun, Min-Ji and Yeon-Woo had tears streaming down their faces and they were hoarse from screaming. They had filmed the whole concert on Min-Ji's ridiculously expensive camera, and when you finally had exited the stadium, they were frantically looking for the moment one of the seven members - you think his name was Jin - had blown them a kiss from stage during one of the songs. The three of them shared a YouTube-channel completely dedicated to the group and were already discussing editing, whose Internet they would torture by uploading the whole concert and so on and so forth.

You exhaled out loudly. The screen of your phone said 22:34. You could still call for your parents' driver, but you didn't want to make a scene. There were still a ton of people pooling out of the exit area and who knew if they recognized you. Although you were dressed very casually, you didn't doubt some of the bystanders would put together two and two if they saw a girl your age exiting a BTS concert and entering a really nice car with a private driver. You didn't need more media covering your involvement with Jungkook, even though you two actually were engaged.

That was one of the conditions Jungkook very clearly had established in the beginning.

You glanced at your best friend. "Se-Eun, I thought you said you were calling your mom."

Se-Eun looked up from the camera and smiled sheepishly. The orange of a streetlight overhead made her brown eyes glint and her light brown-colored hair coppery. "I will, I just have to look at him again." She quirked her brow. "I cannot believe you've never been to one of their concerts before. I thought your parents and his were tight like this." She held up two fingers and crossed them together.

"They are," you said reluctantly. "Doesn't mean he and I are, though. He has no reason to make me come to the concert."

In fact, Jungkook had often tried to make you stay away from them. He had said it was nothing particular and that the shows often malfunctioned due to sloppiness and technical error. He had even claimed they didn't really care for their fans and that it was very strained and awkward to look at them perform. Actually, thinking about it, you found it very suspicious considering how the concert had progressed. Sure they had started everything very dolled-up in make-up and expensive clothes, but they had continuously had interludes in which they spoke to the audience and thanked them and one another, and the show had ended with them simply wearing t-shirts - albeit with their own logo on them - and holding a microphone. It had all felt very genuine by the end, and until then, the production value had been surprisingly high, with great audio, lights, scenes that could rise and fall and much more.

"Still," said Se-Eun. "It's just odd considering your relationship."

"It is," you admitted. Jungkook could be rude - really, really rude - but you had never taken him for a liar. "Perhaps I should ask him why he hasn't invited me before."

At this, Min-Ji and Yeon-Woo stopped their fiddling on the camera options. "How? Oh God, do you have his number?" they almost screamed in unison.

You were tempted to punch one of them when you saw some girls turn to look at why they had shouted. Se-Eun quickly calmed all three of you down.

"Hush, you two. Still, do you?" Se-Eun asked incredulously.

"No," you said with a snort. "But I'll just go backstage or whatever and find him."

For a moment, the three of them were quiet. But then they opened their mouths and roared in laughter.

"What?" you asked.

"Good luck getting past the security guards," Min-Ji said, her voice short of breath. "I mean, truly. Good luck."

"Yeah, it's not like other people have tried it," Yeon-Woo laughed. "Not at all."

You frowned. "I'll just tell the sec I'm friends with one of the members."

"Guys," Se-Eun said after they had another assault from the invisible laughter fairy that obviously was missing you with her wand. "I-I don't think she gets it."

You crossed your arms. "Obviously, I don't."

"It's okay," Min-Ji said. "Just let her go. It's funnier that way."

"Good idea," Yeon-Woo said. "(Y/N), we'll be waiting here, don't worry."

Se-Eun was still giggling as she spoke. "It's useless," she told you. "Think about how many times fans try to get backstage, lying that they're cousins or something. You would be just another one among thousands of crazy people. Besides," she added a little more quietly, just for you to hear, "the media will get hold of it, someway or another. How many times don't you complain that you wish you could change lives with someone else?"

That was a valid point. But Min-Ji and Yeon-Woo had wounded your pride and now you almost felt like you had to prove them wrong.

"Yes, but since I can't, I might just as well just live with it," you replied as you turned around and began away from the girls. "I'll be back in a bit."

"Fighting!" one said sarcastically, causing all three of them to laugh.

You would show them. Deciding it best not to sound like a typical stalker-fan, you came up with a lie. It wasn't too difficult convincing one of the guards at the exit area to let you in to try and find your lost keys. He followed you, and as you pretended to search, you kept an eye open for any kind of backstage signs. There were some cleaners that already had begun and some other people with ID-cards dangling from their necks walking around to check cables, but other than that, the stadium was empty and you couldn't exactly ask one of them where the artists were.

"I might have dropped them in the women's bathroom," you told the guard after a minute or two of fruitless conversation with the cleaners.

He nodded. "Let's check there."

Fortunately, you had visited the bathrooms before the concert began, which were next to a set of sturdy-looking, gray metal doors. You knew they were locked for Min-Ji had tried pulling at them to no avail. However, your last shot was to somehow find Jungkook on his way out of the stadium, and perhaps those doors were the way out of backstage. You knew that was a thought bordering on irrational, but your pride was still wounded and you thought you might as well give it a shot.

You didn't see Jungkook on the way and the doors were just as shut and probably locked as they were before. Disheartened, you entered the women's bathroom, casting one last look at the gray doors.

Someone was occupying one of the booths. You went to the sink to wash your hands, to have something to do while you were feeling gradually more embarrassed. Your keys burned in the chest pocket of your jacket, so at least that lie would have a happy ending.

Through the mirror, you spotted a short girl with a brown curly bob exiting the booth behind your sink. At first, you didn't understand why you felt like something was odd with her, but then you realized it.

And your stomach dropped to the floor.

It was Park Yi-Jae, idol and the leader of one of the hottest female girl groups at the moment. Pretty as the moon with a voice like silk and a bright, optimistic personality and a smile that could melt iron. Everyone had heard of her. She was gaining popularity faster than Suzy had thanks to the drama "Of Smoke and Mirrors" and you knew she was becoming a major "It"-icon in China.

Not only was Park Yi-Jae in the bathroom in a stadium where BTS just had performed. She was wearing Jungkook's jacket - and no, not the one he had donned on stage, but the one private he had worn during your family's joint celebration of the Chinese New Year almost a month ago. And the most telling of them all, she was wearing the necklace you had bought him for his graduation.

That son of a bitch was cheating on you.

#bts #bts jungkook #fanfic #My Cheating Amnesic Fiancé #ao3 #wrienne #Adrianna W. Collins

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ohcndrea · 5 years ago

Photo

ANDREA PEARSON ( ALISHA BOE ) is a 17 year old JUNIOR student at Broadripple Academy. SHE is originally from MILFORD, CT but moved to Broadripple 3 YEARS ago. SHE is CREATIVE and QUICK WITTED but can also be SHORT TEMPERED and JUDGEMENTAL.

task 1 under the cut – stats page here – wanted connections page right here

1. Full Name?

Andrea Mona Pearson

2. Preferred Names or Nicknames?

Andrea, Drea, or D

3. What does their name mean? Does it have any significance in their family? Do they like their name?

Andrea means Brave and Mona means Noble Good. The name Andrea came up after her brother was named Zachary, A to Z. The Mona Lisa is a gorgeous, famous piece of art of a mystery woman. While the name was originally just meant to be an homage, Drea rather likes the idea of being a mystery woman, whatever that might mean. She loves her name, she thinks it’s original and surprisingly artistic considering her parents. The only thing she doesn’t like about it is the nickname Andy.

4. Age and Date of Birth?

17, 30th of January ( making her an Aquarius zodiac )

5. Gender and Pronouns?

Cis Woman – She/her

6. Hometown?

Milford, Conneticuit

7. Does your character fit into any well known archetypes or tropes?

Literally every Aquarius trope known to man (elusive, creative, spontaneous, inconsistent, and stubborn). Equally distant and overbearing parents. The wanderer: never settling, always feeling as though there’s something more. Attention and approval seeking teenager, constantly needing to be validated. Cool Girl Complex, moulding herself to be what she thinks everyone wants, feeling as though she’s not being genuine because of that. Seemingly effortless, appears to not have to put much work into her grades, looks, or anything but it’s not quite the case.

8. How long have they been at Broadripple?

Since freshman year so three years.

9. What led them to apply to Broadripple? Was it a decision made by them or by their parents/guardians or somewhere in between?

Her brother attended an all boys private boarding school when he had been going through high school so it had already been decided Drea would be going to a private boarding school it was just a matter of which one. Drea chose Broadripple out of series of options provided to her by her parents. It was close enough to Milford that she could go home if she really wanted to, but far enough away that her parents probably wouldn’t come visit regularly. She could be free from her parents watchful, judgemental gaze, but not completely detached.

10. Whether they’ve been at Broadripple four days or four years, do they enjoy it? Do they like Broadripple?

In some ways she loves it, in others she hates it. Mostly she likes it. The pros outweigh the cons and the cons were always going to appear at any boarding school she attended. All her friends are there and she adores her friends. She dreads going back to Milford for summer, winter, and especially Thanksgiving break. She hates that her school shirts are itchy that her ass doesn’t look as good in the school skirt as it does in tight jeans. She hates the way teachers catch her when she tries to get away with breaking the rules, but she loves the adrenaline when she does get away with it.

11. What house are they in? Do they care very much about their house?

She’s in Melleray and she could not care less about her house. She uses house events as an opportunity to either lay in the sun or to try napping with her eyes open.

12. Who do they share a dorm with, or are they on their own for the moment? What are they like to live with? Are they clean or messy? Early risers or night owls?

She shares a dorm with Kat Bishop, her best friend and soul sister. Which is tragic for everyone around them. She’s somewhere between clean and messy. Things have a place but it just doesn’t look very neat. She also likes trying on five different outfits and hates putting clothes away so the end of her bed is usually covered in clothes until she gets annoyed at the weight on top of the duvet when she sleeps. Drea’s sleep schedule is a mystery to everyone. Some nights she’ll be awake until four am listening to old One Direction songs for no good reason at all and other nights she’ll fall asleep watching a movie at 7:30. But she’s certainly not a morning person. She will cradle a coffee and a bleary eyed look until second period at least.

13. How is your character’s dorm decorated? Is it bare or bursting at the seems with personality? Any particular sentimental items from home?

Having been at Broadripple for three years Drea has collected some real junk in her dorm. She still has books from freshman year pushed to the back of her desk even though she should really just give them to the library. She has a lot of art supplies, multiple notebooks, loads of pens and pencils (shoved haphazardly in a small pot she got from urban outfitters one time that lives on her desk). Her wall is decorated in a small collection of postcards and photos. The postcards are generally museum postcards, copies of artworks she likes, but there are a few depicting the beaches of Spain and Portugal, the Eiffel Tower, the Sculpture of David, and Roman Ruins at sunset. Photos on the wall include some with her friends, some with her family. There’s also a couple of drawings scattered in amongst the rest of the images. Mostly by her, at least one by Jay. She has a peach crocheted blanket from home and an old Yale sweatshirt that she stole from her dad’s closet. They don’t stand out among the rest of her belongings and she doesn’t treat them any different but she would be very upset if she lost them.

14. What is their favourite subject at school? Do they even have a favourite? Why?

Probably programming though she wouldn’t admit it. She likes the creative side of code, trying to make things work and look nice and flow. Second to that would be Chemistry, she rather likes science. It something that makes sense to her quite easily and it’s the more interesting of the “traditional” classes that she takes. Third, ASL. But again, she would never admit any of that because school is for nerds.

15. Are they involved in any clubs? Which ones?

She’s in the Women of Broadripple Club and just like, really shouldn’t be. Her mom signed her up when dropped her off at Broadripple in her first year despite not contributing to the group at all she’s never been bothered to leave the group. She usually shows up to meetings hungover and has a little nap up the back.

16. How does your character feel about Broadripple’s Unofficial Clubs? Do they know about them? Are they a part of any of them?

She definitely knows about the Broadripple Boys Club and the Unauthorised Chastity Club but probably doesn’t think Broadripple Unsolved is real. BAU is just a bunch of nerds hanging out and thinking about jerking off aliens and calling it a club as far as she’s concerned. Feels kind of similar about the Chastity club but instead of jerking off aliens its jerking off God. She avoids the Chastity club at all costs, she really does not like dealing with them and would rather make fun of them from a distance. Now the BBC, she really thinks she should be one of them, she really does. But seeing as they don’t take female members, she’ll settle for trying to impress them, flirting with them, and stealing booze at their parties ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

17. Does your character participate in any sports? If so, what made them join the team?

She’s on the Cross Country team, in her freshman year she was also on the Track team but she decided in sophomore year that she’d rather just do cross country. She prefers it, track is such a competition to be the best and be the fastest, and she’s just not an especially competitive person. But she likes running, it really clears her mind so she kept up cross country.

18. What afternoon activities does your character do? Do they just do the one mandatory one or are they involved in multiple? Why?

She used to just do the one, just painting (because she’s an artistic ass bitch and it was her one school appointed time to be creative) but since having an argument with her parents over the summer she has since started tutoring. While she’s quite smart and gets good grades, she’s a horrendous tutor. She tends to get things in class very easily so explaining them to people who don’t understand them first go is very hard for her. She gets frustrated and probably ends up doing a lot of their work for them.

19. Do they miss their home when they’re at Broadripple? Do they often go home for the weekends or do they only go home during holiday breaks?

Not especially. She goes through phases where she might feel homesick, if she’s not talking to her friends for whatever reason and feeling rather lonely. But for the most part she likes the distance. In the three years she’s been at Broadripple she’s probably only gone home on the weekends two or three times.

20. Did your character know Izzy De Santis or Maggie Monroe?

She knew them both though neither well. She had written them off mostly as religious freaks that she didn’t want to associate with. Freaky minions of God that would tell her she was going to hell if she didn’t repent for the amount of booty pics she sent.

21. Has your character heard of Edith Lynch? Do they know the story?

She’s heard of her and she knows the story. During probably her first week of Broadripple the girls got together and told the spooky story and that’s what Drea thinks it is: a story. She knows Edith was real but she thinks the story she heard has probably been blown way out of proportion and she’s never looked into it so she has no idea if that’s true or not.

22. How does your character feel about Nighmore? Have they noticed the recently closed shops yet?

She thinks Nighmore is super weird. She gets a really weird vibe from the people and would rather go anywhere else but it’s just so conveniently close, especially since she doesn’t have a car. She has noticed the closed shops because Kat got hysterical about not being able to buy potatoes.

23. Have you made any aesthetic Pinterest boards/WeHeartIt collections for this character? Or playlists? Anything you would like to share!

She has a pinterest board and a weheartit collection lmao, also has a playlist but i’ll probably do a seperate post for that eventually

#i am v v v excited but v v v sad that i now i have to leave for work : (#i'll be on mobile and on the discord once that's live so hit me tf up and lets get some shit goin my guy #also conny's will posted soon i just legit feel like im spamming everyone lmao sry #bahq:task1 #bahq:intro

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iridescentanachronism · 5 years ago

Text

when one night only turns into two

hello folks, i have never written fanfiction and never used this blog! i guess i’m diving in headfirst LMAO!!!

this is a lil blurb i thought of when y/n is a singer (not super big but for sure up and coming) and she covers kiwi at one of her shows and it goes viral and harry notices and decides to just SHOW UP at her show the balls on this guy!! anyways this is my first fic so please be kind! constructive criticism is always welcome

“thank you for coming out tonight! your presence gives me the ability to do my job- i will always be grateful for each and every single one of you. drive safely and love one another, los angeles. thanks again for having me, you have been wonderful.”

as you walked off the small stage at the house of blues your heart swelled with pride. this was your first show out of state, and from what the audience sounded like, you had crushed it. performing in LA had always been a dream of yours, but a daunting one, considering that their crowds were used to big names and powerful stage presences. you were intimidated by the city- yet you walked off their stage with an indescribable feeling of pride, adrenaline, and confidence. this was the start of something new and you could feel it.

feeling someone’s eyes on you, you made a sharp turn and ran into your tour manager, rosco. “hello! hey, hey, hey, that was amazing wasn’t it? the energy felt absolutely maddening! god, i could do that everyday for the rest of my life. what do you think? was it too much, did we do too many covers?” the words seemed to flow right out of you, even though you gave LA your all, it was still LA, and rosco had always been your best critic. he quickly responded to let you know it was as amazing as you’d originally thought, and that if this show was any indication, you would have plenty more shows in LA.

what you didn’t expect, however, was the ruckus that one of the aforementioned covers would cause on twitter. you had always loved harry styles, and after taking quite some time to look into the legalities on the matter, decided to cover kiwi for the first time last night. logging into your account, you noticed the song title trending- and after clicking on it you were led to a video of your show, hair being shaken around you, throwing yourself around the stage with the heavy music, and the scene was completed with a boisterous crowd jumping around and singing every word along with you. a smile covered your face- this is your favorite part of performing, losing yourself entirely in the stage, and in this video you were doing just that. however excited you had become at the potential this showed for your career, you immediately had so many questions. why had this blown up so much? you covered four songs last night, why is this one such a big deal? after looking through the tag, chuckling at some memes, and being freaked out by some responses, you had found the tweet that made you lose your shit. the tweet itself wasn’t even the raunchiest you had found this morning, it simply stated: “@y/t/n: fuck my shit up, babe. literally, whatever you want to do to me, do it” with the linked video of you singing kiwi. however, one thing in particular stood out to you. the part that said “liked by harry styles”.

you immediately dialed rosco, not only is he your tour manager, but basically your entire support system. a musicians life gets lonely, and he is the only one who has stuck by you throughout the entire tumultuous journey.

“sweetheart! perfect timing, i actually was just about to call-”

“harrystylessawthekiwivideoandlikedatweetaboutitholyfuckingshit-” you started to ramble, your most prominent nervous trait, in the highest pitch rosco thought he had ever heard from you.

“sweets, first of all, where was that pitch when we recorded the album? second, take a breath and tell me again, i can’t understand a damn thing you said”

you took a deep breath and told him of the tweets you saw, and when you told him about harry’s interaction he simply told you to chill out. he had favorited a tweet, and he may not have even been the one to do it. with an odd sting you realized he was correct, while it was exciting to have your idol recognize you, you could not overthink it: it was simply recognition for a job well done.

“it seems as though the people you needed to impress are just as proud of you as i am, lovey, your ‘one night only’ in los angeles has been extended to two, you interested in doing it all over again tomorrow night?”

you must have looked like a goldfish in your kitchen, jaw slack and eyes wide open, you struggled to come to your senses. you had asked for the chance to prove yourself in a city known for music, and good music at that, and were apparently being gifted with a second chance.

“oh! um, yes, of course, why wouldn’t i? holy shit, this is amazing, holy shit!” you began to squeal and run in circles around your house. whilst giggling with elation, the seriousness of this event hit you: two nights of rocking out with the liveliest crowd you have ever played for, in the city you’ve dreamt of doing this in for years. drops began to form in your eyes as you managed to spit out a quick thank you to rosco, who knew you would cry. he, quite frankly, did not want to hear your tears, so he hung up after telling you what to tweet.

after logging on you realized you had gone from a respectable 10k followers to an overwhelming 30k, you almost squealed again, composing yourself enough to type, you wrote:

@y/t/n: wow. in absolute awe of you la. thank you for supporting me, and thank you for letting me do what i do. and thanks to you all, i have been gifted another night here (-: night two at the hob! tickets on sale at 6pm california time, come see me tomorrow night, peeps! i’ll be sure to make it worth your while <3

with the click of your fingers and the ping of your phone, the announcement had been sent, and the stage had been sent. the pressure was on, and you had never felt more in your element.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

everything that could have gone wrong on the morning of your fateful second show, had. you had woken up late (something minor, but was an omen for your bad day), gotten a flat tire, been hit on by the man sent to fix said flat tire, and had been late to soundcheck. after arriving at soundcheck you had found that everything was wrong, the stage wasn’t set up correctly, the duct-taped x’s from the previous show had been removed, and you had to all but start from the beginning.

you had planned to change things up from your previous gig, but had no time to practice the changes. you spoke to your band and hoped that was enough, you drank some coffee, did some jumping jacks, warmed up your vocals, and put on your game face. this is your second show in LA, and you weren’t going to let anything ruin it; hearing the sounds of a sold out bar in front of you, feeling your heart began to flutter in your chest, and knowing that in a few minutes you would be putting on the best show of your goddamn life had set you up well. you were ready. with your shoulders back and head up high, you walked onto stage and, unknowingly, commanded the attention of the room.

about twenty minutes into your set you decided to take a quick breather. taking a long sip of water and leaning into the microphone, you decided to do a quick little check in, “hey folks, hows everyone doing out there?” your southern drawl had just slipped in towards the end, and you felt so at ease on stage that you hadn’t even noticed. someone else did notice.

harry styles had decided to surprise you at your show, he had favorited that tweet because he agreed- you could do whatever you wanted to him, but he would rather do whatever you wanted to you. he had his signature smirk on as he stood backstage, listening to rosco ramble about how surprized you would be when you realized he had come, and how much you adored his album. as you continued to banter back in forth with the sold out bar, harry had taken note of how peaceful you looked. you stood proudly on stage, with messy hair, and a sick body you looked comfortable; the stage had seemed like your home.

luckily, you hadn’t noticed harry the entire show, hadn’t even noticed how his eyes hadn’t left your body while you passionately belted out every word to his song, completely losing yourself in the melody, and delivering another breathtaking performance. he watched you take your final bow, and heard your last expression of gratitude, before watching you run off stage and into the arms of your tour manager. harry quickly noticed the tears in your eyes and the smile so large that it looked painful, he heard your rambling and the joy in your voice, it had reminded him of when this was all new, when nothing was guaranteed, and the only thing keeping him in this trying industry was the feeling you were experiencing right now.

his moment of nostalgia passed as you had unraveled yourself from rosco’s arms and did a double take. harry styles was standing in front of you. you heard a deep chuckle coming from him, likely due to your wide eyes and gaping mouth, he heard a quiet “no fucking way” come from you, and decided he had waited long enough. as cocky as usual, he rasped out, “hello love, your show was amazing. it’s a pleasure to meet you, i’m harry, as i think you may know” he didn’t bother waiting for a response from the gobsmacked young woman before continuing, “y’know, i’ve seen plenty of covers of kiwi, but none have been as genuine as yours. you captured the song for what it is, you blew it away, blew me away in fact, so i knew i had to come out and see ya tonight.” his accent grew thicker as he became more bemused with your state of shock.

your breath eventually caught up to you as you nervously chuckled, “holy shit, thank you so much. you have no idea how much that means coming from you. thank you for coming out, oh my god, i have so much to say to you but nothing is coming to mind other than thank you, so thank you, again”

“of course, darling, i loved it. i’ll be sure to pass along my number so whatever comes to mind can be said. unfortunately, i have to run, but i’ll be seeing you around kiddo, keep up the good work” harry said with a sly wink, leaving you flushed at the pet name, and yearning for more time with him. while you let out a soft thank you and goodnight, you began to think of what the future held for you. praise from harry styles was not to be taken lightly, and his impromptu visit had only fanned the flame in your soul, his visit meant you were doing something right, and this had been the fuel you needed to continue putting in long hours at the studio, and spending evenings alone, writing in your shitty and overpriced apartment.

while you had been thinking of what this visit meant for your career. harry had thoughts of you headlining arenas swimming around in his head. as he walked away he thought of you; thought of how immensely talented you were, how charismatic you were, and how far you had to go. he also thought of your grace, the presence you carried as you pranced around on stage, and the charming beauty that you seemed unaware of. harry styles knew you were talented, but he also knew you were breathtaking, and he could see absolutely nothing stopping you.

as he walked away and you listened to rosco’s compliments, you allowed your own mind to wander. maybe, just maybe, things were going to look up for you. and you couldn’t help but sigh happily at the thought.

A/N: hello peeps! sorry this was super long hmm i’m torn between cutting it or not, because not much harry but also the buildup is important to me, please let me know what you prefer! constructive criticism is ALWAYS welcome and apprecited! thanks for reading this far if you did, you mean the world to me! let me know if y’all would want a part two (-:

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rkkyg · 5 years ago

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MNET GLOBAL AUDITIONS ; episode 2 interview

contestant #5027

he expected this as it had happened with the first episode. though knowing of the interview did not mean he would prepare of anything. it’s not like he could know what they want to ask though he has a vague idea. figuring it would follow along the lines of what they asked the first time.

he’s not worried or anything--as in the first episode none of the interviews seemed to be shown in their entirety. they were all edited, of course, so he supposes he should watch to make sure he can’t be edited badly but.

well yugyeom doesn’t care much.

What did you think of the results last week?

”last week?” he parrots part of the question, a small smirk forming as he answers. “expected.” and for a brief moment he debates on not following through with anything else. leaving them with a vague response. but... thats not really his style--plus he can’t miss the chance to talk himself up.

“it was the first episode so there was bound to be a lot of people who don’t have what it takes just yet. i’ve been dancing for years so i didn’t really think i would get cut first round.” he says calmly, shrugging a little. it really looks as if he fully expected the outcome from last week. comfortable in his own abilities to perform and keep the judges attention.

“i’d been more surprised if i hadn’t made it.”

Who do you think is the best under each skill?

“i’m not really the best to critique singing or rapping. in the last few months i’ve gotten into rapping but i don’t have a lot of the technical talk down.” he admits, brows furrowing as he tries to think about how he would want to answer this one. thinking about the performances he had actively paid attention to and that stuck in his mind long enough to be able to talk about right now.

“in singing i’d have to say PARK JINYOUNG.” and that was out of complete bias. “he really knows how to capture attention when he sings. it’s hard to not watch and always leaves me wanting to hear more. i was really impressed with his performances both this time and from last week.” he smiles a bit thinking about his hyung. loving the fact they both made it to this episode. he hopes they go far on here together--that maybe they get to work together on the show at some point.

“for rapping...” he pauses, one particular performance flashing in his mind. it had surprised him a lot to see her last week. so much so he hadn’t know how to react--what to say. he still hasn’t approached her and he’s kind of hoping he never has. their relationship had been... okay... he loved her, he really had. but at the time.. at the time he was so messed up. all he feels now is apologetic to her. “CHOI YOONA... or bella. she rapped everyone else under the table. her performances have always felt so powerful. i think she’s someone to keep an eye on for sure.”

his smirk formed again though. “as for dancing.” he chuckles. “i want to say myself, of course. its only natural to think yourself the best. but KANG HYUNGGU is giving me a run for my money. did you see how smoothly he transitioned from swalla to TT. i had major whiplash! but he did it so well, and it really worked with is performance!” yes he is taking this chance to gush about his best friend but who’s really surprised? his smile wide as he recounts the younger dancers performance. “i love seeing him dance and i really think he’s the best dancer here--tied with me, of course.”

How do you think you did?

“i think i did great.” confident and cocky, that’s how yugyeom likes to roll. whats the point of changing this about himself now? he could have tried for that humble route--that i’ll keep working hard to be better---but why would he want to do that? he already spent the whole first episode talking himself up. might as well keep goin.

and its not like he doesn’t think this about himself anyway. he is confident.

“i was a bit tired today--late night from practicing and work. but even not being at full power today i still made that stage mine.” he admits to being tired, wondering if that could get him more brownie points. kim yugyeom performed that well despite being exhausted. “i felt like the stage itself didnt want me to walk off when i was done. i know i didn’t want to. especially not when i felt so good about the performance. that kind of feeling... that feeling stays with you.”

Were there any performances you liked?

he nods without a moment of hesitation but surprisingly it’s not hyunggu who he names first. “i really enjoyed TAKADA KENTA. his dancing was really impressive and i like the energy he has when he performs. i enjoyed watching him a lot--someone i think i’d like to see more of. he has a nice presence.”

“also LEE SUWOONG. that guy...that guy....” he breaks off with a laugh. “that guy really knows how to make his performances amusing. i was surprised to see him go up with that song choice but... it worked for him. and i enjoyed watching it.” he chuckles more. “yah, suwoong hyung are you going to use funny songs the whole season?”

Were there any performances you didn’t like?

he takes a moment to think before answering this one even though he already has a performance in mind that hadn’t sat well with him. “yeah... KANG DANIEL’s performance was... lacking this time.” he says slowly, partly wondering if he should hold back from saying all that he thinks. but well--they did ask. and yugyeom isn’t one to sugar coat himself.

“he was a singer last week right? i thought he sang really well--he lacks appeal in my opinion. not really someone i would care much to see perform, but his voice was really nice and i think he could develop into a solid performer. but...” he makes a confused face. keeping his tone light so that it doesn’t sound like he’s just outright attacking daniel. “why... i’m not sure why he decided to switch to rap. personally for me... his performance really dropped. i think he should have stayed with singing...”

What did you think of KIM MYUNGSOO’s performance?

“thats the guy who did the tvxq song right? why did i fall in love with you?” he questioned and continued when he got a nod. “ah he was so good... that was such a good song choice first of all--but then he covered it so well. his vocals were really nice. plus he didn’t seem too uncomfortable on stage--not that i could tell.” he smiled, seeming to have genuinely enjoyed myungsoo stage. “like i said i don’t know much about the technicals with singing but i wouldn’t mind hearing him sing again.”

“and he was sooo handsome.” his expression becomes wistful as if he were wishing to be that good looking. “a face made really well, like he really captured my eye before he sang and then i was really impressed hearing his voice.”

Is there anyone you are certain will move onto the next phase of the MGAs?

“myself.” he starts and the interviewer really shouldn’t have been surprised with this answer considering his track record when it comes to self confidence. “i’m comfortable with my performance today and confident i showed that i’m able to dance in more than one style. i want them to know i’m versatile. the next step is to show i can improve--which i believe i also showed a bit of on this stage today.” he chuckles to himself.

“also hyunggu, of course.” he grins, picturing his best friend who he actually didn’t talk about all that much today. “i think it’d be weird if we didn’t make it to the next round. at least this early on. we’re both solid dancers and i know hyunggu made an impression today. im still blown away.”

Is there anyone you are certain will be eliminated today?

“i wouldn’t say there’s anyone i’m certain will be eliminated...” he trails off slowly, picturing some of the performances in his mind. and he knows who he wants to say but he feels a bit bad. he already spoke down about daniel earlier in this interview. but he does think that daniel could bite the bullet this time. especially because of his change in performance skill--but then again that could also work in his favor. ceos see it as proof daniel is able to adapt---then theres the whole fact that this isn’t daniel’s first show.

his expression had shifted to one of distaste. and he realizes he’s being so hard on daniel because he doesn’t like him which is not justified but he doesn’t care. “i think anything could happen.”

#txt; solo #rkmga5 #rkmga5skill #rkkhg #rksuwoong #rkpjy #rkbclla #rkkenta #danielxrk #rkxmyungsoo #wc; 1514

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

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Playing Cupid: Chapter 2 (Witney & Shalaska) - Rosie

Summary: Overworked and underpaid, two personal assistants meet in an unsuspecting way. Bonding over their hatred for their ridiculous working conditions and cruel bosses, they hatch a plan to solve all their problems, discovering along the way that sometimes… love needs a little assistance.

Chapter Summary: With their plan set in place, Willam and Courtney pull back the strings of their love bow and arrows and aim straight for their respective bosses, Sharon and Alaska, all the while ignoring the hearts forming in their own eyes.

A/N: Thank you for loving chapter one of Playing Cupid! Here’s chapter two which includes some of my favourite scenes I’ve ever written.

Catch Up on Playing Cupid: Chapter One

“Love is in the air,” Courtney sang to herself quietly as she unlocked her apartment door and walked inside, dropping her bags on the floor and shrugging off her coat. She didn’t know how the rest of the song went but she didn’t care – she was on cloud nine after tonight’s absolute success.

She couldn’t stop smiling to herself on the subway ride home, too excited over the thought of playing cupid, pulling her love arrow back, and striking her boss Alaska right in the heart. Alright, perhaps that was a bit far, but she couldn’t wait to get everything underway. She had traded numbers and emails with Willam and the pair had decided to meet tomorrow to compare schedules in order to pencil in the perfect moment. The more time she spent with Willam, the more the woman intrigued her, so the thought of seeing her again so soon sent a flutter through her stomach.

In the meantime, Courtney had ordered them to think of a dreamy way for Sharon and Alaska to ‘accidentally’ meet. It was a bit of a reach, but Courtney was already fantasizing about the two of them somehow running into each other outside a luxurious Tiffany & Co. window display before laughing over a brunch of croissants and coffee, or seeing each other across the crowd at a rooftop bar, something tropical in both their hands while the sun set behind them.

Turning the corner, she jumped back in mild shock at the sight of seeing her roommate and her girlfriend intertwined on the couch, half their clothes thrown around the room.

“Farrah!” Courtney exclaimed.

“Courtney!” The pastel pink haired girl replied in shock, pulling her lips away from her girlfriend lying underneath her.

“Aja,” Courtney waved as she walked past them to get to the kitchen.

“Hi Courtney!” Aja replied, her voice breathy from kissing Farrah, or maybe because Farrah’s weight was on top of her.

Their legs were a tangle of limbs, Aja’s skirt was completely gone, and Farrah’s bra looked like it was 4 seconds off joining other garments on the floor.

“Sorry,” Farrah apologized sheepishly, grabbing her blouse from between the couch cushions and holding it against her chest. “We can move into the bedroom?”

“Oh, I don’t mind! I won’t be here long, you two can have the living room back in a second,” Courtney said genuinely, opening the fridge to grab the Vegemite and vegan cheese in order to make a late night toasted sandwich.

Both Farrah and Aja looked at her in shock. They had a habit of loosing track of things in the living room when Farrah had a perfectly good bed in her room. But Courtney’s late hours meant they always forgot and felt like the apartment was their own. After Courtney had walked in on them fully naked on three separate occasions, she hit the roof, announcing there had to be some rule changes. Expecting to be deservedly scolded, Farrah had braced herself for Courtney’s annoyance. To hear that she ‘didn’t mind’ was astounding.

“How was work?” Farrah asked, frowning at her friend.

“Fantastic!” Courtney said, throwing her dinner into the sandwich press with a ridiculously toothy grin on her face.

Farrah and Aja exchanged a look. Courtney wasn’t one to whine, Farrah did enough for the three of them, but Courtney’s job was incredibly grueling. Farrah couldn’t remember the last time she had returned home from a 12-hour day with a giant smile on her face.

“Alrighty, I’m all done, I’ll be in my room if you need me, you kids have fun,” Courtney rambled, balancing her sandwich, a drink, her bag and her phone as she walked past the girls again and retreated to her room, not realising they could hear her humming ‘love is in the air.’

Willam Belli: S got a 1h lunch meeting @ 12 I don’t have 2 b @ – u free ?

Courtney Act: Yes! I’ll come to your office, there are too many people at mine :)

At midday exactly and not a minute later Courtney took the elevator up four extra stories and made her way into Willam’s office. It was just as vast and grand as it had been last night, but instead of the cozy, lamp lit lighting that cast shadows around the place the previous time she was here, during the day it was brilliantly white, with sunlight bouncing around its exceptionally clean walls.

Like a drop of vivid nail polish on clean white jeans, Willam sat at her desk in the middle of the room, her loud choice of a fiery red, orange and yellow ombre body con dress screaming against the minimalistic interiors.

She was scribbling something down in her planner, but her head snapped up when she heard Courtney’s heels click against the tiled floor.

“Hello Ms Act,” Willam said, shooting Courtney a smile before finishing up her notes.

“Hi,” Courtney said, suddenly feeling terribly plain in comparison in her black skirt and baby pink blouse.

Willam opened her mouth to speak, but a loud ring from her desk phone swallowed her sentence. She picked up the receiver, gesturing to Courtney to have a seat and that she would only be a moment.

“No, we’re not letting Valentina wear a full face mask on the red carpet of the premier next month. She’s our main star, she’s selling our movie. If you don’t tell her to get that fucking thing off of her face, Darienne, and organize something else stat, I’ll rip it off her myself.”

As Willam barked orders down the phone, Courtney let herself subtly look at the other woman. She noticed how her blown out eyeshadow mimicked the colours in her dress, a beautiful mess of warm shades intensified with glitter and defined by black eyeliner. She noticed how her lipstick was a metallic shade of deep purple, and how her high heels were bright red and glossy. If Courtney wore the same outfit, she’d look like a drag queen on their first night out. But somehow on Willam, with her razor sharp tongue and take-no-shit attitude, all the chaos and colours just worked.

“Sorry,” Willam said sweetly, slamming the phone down before clearing her throat. “People can be just so pushy. Now, we said we were gonna try and find a free slot of time somewhere, right?”

“Yes,” Courtney said, unlocking her iPad to view Alaska’s schedule for the week ahead, a perfectly colour-coordinated wall of meetings, events and appointments staring back at her.

Willam pulled up Sharon’s on her desktop, which was just as jam-packed.

“Alright, I’m just gonna yell out times Sharon has free. 9:30am tomorrow?“

“Nope, we have the Her January cover shoot all day,” Courtney said. “What about 11am next Monday?”

“No luck, Sharon reads screenplays for like 3 hours a day. 4pm Tuesday?”

“Nail appointment. Alaska has 45 minutes in the afternoon though on Wednesday?”

“Nope, Sharon’s out of town until Friday morning then takes the afternoon off to be with Aquaria. This is like a shit game of Battleships,” Willam sighed.

Courtney bit her lip. Having to wait over a week to get their bosses in the same room together would eat her alive. She just wanted it to happen now.

“What about 2pm this afternoon?” Willam asked in a bored voice, the fun of this plan gone now that it looked impossible.

“Today… Thursday… 2pm…” Courtney searched her iPad. “Oh, wow, yeah Alaska is actually free.”

Willam immediately perked up. “Perfect. Let’s do that, then.”

Courtney blinked.

“Whoa, today? Now?"

“Yes.”

“But that’s… today.”

“I’m aware,” Willam said, typing away on her keyboard. “What? You suddenly scared? Little Miss Love not prepared?”

“Well,” Courtney stammered. Willam was right. She didn’t feel prepared. “It’s just all so sudden. And so soon.”

“Love can be like that sometimes,” Willam concluded nonchalantly before smiling to herself. “Oh, by the way, I thought they could meet in an elevator.”

Courtney was dumbfounded.

“An elevator?” She tried to sound nice, but really, an elevator? “I was thinking of something more romantic. Like outside Tiffany & Co, or at a rooftop bar while the sun set behind them.”

“This ain’t some rom-com fantasy dream, this is real life,” Willam waved her off. “Haven’t you ever had a bangin’ woman waltz in and stand next to you and all you wanted was for the elevator to jam so you could fuck all sweaty on the floor?”

“Oh my god Willam—“

“I have! Don’t lie to me, you probably have too. If you can’t think of anything else that would actually work before our deadline of 2pm today, which is in an hour and 35 minutes, it looks like we’ll be tampering with the lifts.”

Courtney massaged her neck, suddenly feeling stressed.

“We can’t actually jam the elevator though. It will be a fleeting meeting that will only last seconds,” Courtney hated how negative she sounded, but she just didn’t see how this would work.

“Who said we couldn’t jam the elevators? I know a girl.”

10 minutes later, the two of them were standing in the rundown alleyway their sky scraping office building back onto. It had become the designated smoking spot for the many receptionists, cleaners and maintenance crew who looked after the building, not to mention the dozens of stressed workers who popped down to smoke a quick cigarette or four in their lunch breaks.

Courtney had never found herself in this part of their building, so she tagged along after Willam who weaved her way down the alley, looking for a specific spot where she knew she’d find a certain person in particular.

“Adore!” Willam exclaimed upon spotting the person in question.

There in the corner against a wall of colourful graffiti sat a girl who looked young enough to be in college. She wore the standard khaki overalls all maintenance workers were required to wear, but her baggy fit, rolled up sleeves and high-waisted belt made it look actually cool when paired with her Doc Martins and grungy 90s style makeup.

From her seated position on an upside down milk crate, she jumped slightly at Willam’s call, before exhaling the smoke in her mouth and pulling her headphones down to sit around her neck.

“Willam!” Adore smiled, standing up and wrapping her arms around her.

“Adore, this is Courtney,” Willam introduced. “Courtney, meet Adore.”

“Hi honey,” Adore drawled, smiling at Courtney and twirling a lock of her ombre blue hair around her finger. While Courtney smiled and said hello, she felt almost patronized by a girl who was clearly younger than her. She immediately disliked Adore, and hated the fact she had Willam’s arm draped around her.

“How’ve you been, bitch?” Willam smiled, before bringing Adore’s hand to her mouth and taking a quick drag of the cigarette still perched between her fingertips.

Adore laughed and lightly punched Willam’s shoulder while Courtney stood awkwardly to the side, feeling like she was at a high school party.

“Girl,” Adore drawled, “work’s been so exhausting.”

“Mhhmm yeah, these 3 hour breaks really take it out of you,” Willam joked, making Adore laugh again. “In all seriousness though, I’m mostly not just here for a smoke. We have a favour to ask.”

“Fire away,” Adore said.

Courtney watched as Adore’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped the more Willam revealed about their plan and Adore’s crucial, potential involvement.

“If this is too much,” Courtney suddenly said, interrupting Willam, “you don’t have to do it. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or anything or feel like we’re compromising your job.”

Adore’s eyes darted between the two women before laughing. “Are you serious? This sounds fucking awesome!”

“So you’re in?” Willam asked.

“Uh let me think about it,” Adore paused, before smirking. “Uh abso-fucking-lutely!”

“Right, I’m off to pick up your dry cleaning,” Courtney lied, standing in the middle of Alaska’s office. “Don’t forget you have a meeting with Milk about the upcoming Marc Jacobs campaign across town at 2:30… so you should leave soon… so you should aim to be out of here and in the elevators at 2…”

Alaska’s gaze shifted from her computer screen to her assistant before she zeroed in on Courtney’s weird behavior. Suddenly terrified, Courtney braced herself for Alaska to instantly know she was lying.

But in a wild turn of events, her boss actually praised her.

“That’s a good idea,” Alaska said. “I always leave my office on time, but so many of the girls need my attention on my way out that I end up instantly running late. Also I totally forgot I had dry cleaning. Huh.”

“Happy to help!” Courtney said brightly as she exhaled in relief. “I’ll see you when you get back from the meeting."

Courtney calmly exited Alaska’s office, but once she was well and truly out of sight, she bolted to the elevator and directed it to take her straight to the basement. When the doors parted, Willam was standing there with her phone to her ear.

“The koala has arrived,” Willam said into her phone before hanging up and snorting as Courtney rolled her eyes at the code name. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it, though. She followed Willam down the narrow corridor to what must be the maintenance control room Adore told them to meet her in.

“If we’re doing code names, what’s yours?” Courtney asked.

“What do I remind you of?” Willam shot back, throwing a glance to Courtney behind her and giving her wink.

“Oh uh,” Courtney’s mind was too busying replaying that knee-weakening wink to be able to think of animals. “Something loud, and colourful, like a peacock.”

Willam burst out laughing before throwing a hand over her mouth. “I’ll take that. I would have said a pig.”

“Does Sharon have a reason to go in the elevator? We’ve got less than 10 minutes until show time,” Courtney fretted.

“Yes, she’s going to a meeting I told her was pushed forward by an hour.”

Willam abruptly stopped at a random door in the hallway and Courtney almost ran into the back of her. Knocking on the door three times quickly, then once, then twice more, they stood in silence for a moment before it suddenly opened upon hearing the secret knock.

“Come in,” Adore hissed, ushering the two blondes into the dark room before sticking her head out the doorway to check they weren’t seen. She slipped a broom between the handles to lock out anyone trying to walk in on them before turning to the women and rubbing her hands together. “Whose excited?”

“Me!” Willam shouted, before noticing the many screens displaying the live security footage of all the cameras around their building. “Whoa, this is some FBI shit.”

“Here are the elevator ones,” Adore said, sitting down in the hot seat with the controls in front of her while Willam and Courtney stood on either side.

“Cool,” Courtney said, noticing how they had multiple angels inside just one elevator. “Is there any sound?”

“Unfortunately not,” Adore said. “But I can give you a copy of their footage if you want to analyse it later."

"That’d actually be quite cool,” Courtney said. “Kind of illegal, but cool.”

“Oh my god,” Willam pointed at one monitor, “is that Sharon? She’s in. The bat is in position.”

Adore’s fingers flew across the keyboard, programming only Sharon’s elevator to be able to stop at Alaska’s floor.

“Is there a camera on Alaska’s level? How will we know she’s ready?” Courtney said, already biting one of her nails.

“There isn’t one, so we’ll just have to see,” Adore said.

The three of them sat in silence as Sharon’s elevator descended one level, then another, then another. Courtney checked her watch.

“6 minutes passed 2,” she mumbled, suddenly feeling like this was all for nothing. There was a huge chance Alaska could have been held up in the office and would miss Sharon entirely. In a weird way, Courtney would feel like it was her fault if she failed to get her boss in the right place at the right time.

Sharon’s elevator stopped at a floor.

Everyone peered in closer to look at the CCTV footage on the monitor.

“There she is!” exclaimed Courtney, pointing wildly as Alaska appeared on the screen.

“We can see,” Willam snapped as Courtney gripped her forearm with nervous excitement.

Alaska stepped into the elevator and flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she pressed the button for the ground floor, not even acknowledging Sharon.

Willam’s heart pounded in her chest, and Courtney’s insanely tight hold on her arm wasn’t helping things. She tried not to think about why her cheeks were starting to heat up, or why when Courtney finally let go, she wished she hadn’t.

“God, Sharon didn’t even look up from her phone,” Willam seethed. “Why don’t people fucking look at each other anymore.”

To their dismay, Alaska started checking her phone too, leaving Courtney, Adore and Willam to stay engrossed at a monitor displaying two women frozen in place as they tapped away on their emails.

“A little emergency stop should distract them,” Willam said, wiggling her eyebrows. Even though she was a little nervous, she wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t love this feeling of playing Cupid — or God.

“So I’m good to press stop?” Adore asked, her finger hovering over the keyboard.

“Wait, whose that?” Courtney whispered as the doors parted on the 10th floor.

Willam anxiously ran her fingers through her hair as another person entered the elevator. They hadn’t factored in an unexpected character in this planned storyline.

“Oh, it’s just a delivery person,” Adore sighed in relief as a sizeable woman entered the elevator and placed two giant boxes on the floor.

“But it’s still a person,” Willam said in annoyance. “They can’t fall madly in love with a fat FedEx employee standing between them.”

“Willam,” Courtney said in disbelief as she shot her a glare, “that’s really rude.”

“She can’t hear me,” Willam muttered, rolling her eyes as Courtney turned back to the monitor. But a sting of rare embarrassment hit her as Courtney called her out. She didn’t mean to be such a bitch. She bit her lip, wanting to take it back.

“So can I hit the button?” Adore asked again, still confused but incredibly eager.

“No,” Courtney and Willam said in unison. The timing wasn’t right.

Adore hit the button.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Willam yelled.

“I thought you said yes!”

“We said NO you dipshit.”

“Willam,” Courtney scolded, even though she was thinking roughly the same thing.

The elevator came to an abrupt halt, its three passengers inside staggering slightly at the sharp motion.

Inside its metal walls, the trio of woman reacted.

“Did the elevator just stop?” Alaska asked, snapping her head up from her phone.

“Oh sweet mama no,” the delivery woman pleaded in a thick Southern accent. “I’m claustrophobic, I can’t do this.”

Both women looked at Sharon, who really didn’t know what to say. Yes, it was obvious the elevator had stopped, and she couldn’t do anything to help the claustrophobia.

“Um, it’ll be fine,” Sharon attempted.

She would have added more, but the only thought bouncing around Sharon’s mind was how beautiful the blonde opposite her was, and how her tight dress fit her curvy figure perfectly. Had she been in the elevator this whole time?

Back in the control room, the mood was plummeting fast.

“Make it go again, nothing is happening,” Courtney sighed, watching as her dreams of being Cupid were dashed as she observed all three women just stand around awkwardly and not fall in love.

Adore hit some keys before they watched the passengers become visibly relieved when the elevator began to work again.

“If FedEx doesn’t exit in the next four, now three, floors, we’ve completely lost our chance,” Willam sighed, her arms already crossed in defeat.

Suddenly, the elevator halted again.

“Adore!” Willam exclaimed.

“I didn’t press anything!” Adore held up her hands, which had been placed on her lap.

It was true, she hadn’t.

Her fingers quickly flew across her keyboard in a bid to fix the situation, but nothing worked.

“I think it’s actually broken down this time,” Adore said softly.

Inside the elevator, the women began to sweat – however, some more than others.

“It’s stuck again,” Alaska commented, instinctively grabbing the handrail for support as it came to yet another sudden halt.

“Yep,” Sharon replied shortly.

“Oh no no no no no no no,” the delivery woman said, shaking her hands and moving from foot to foot as if she had to go to the bathroom. “I can’t do this, no sir no ma’am.”

“It’s okay,” Alaska said calmly, glancing at the woman’s ID tag on her belt and attempting to sooth the situation. “Uh, Eureka, is it? It’s okay, we’re going to be fine, we just need to—“

“Can everybody just calm down!” Eureka yelled, looking to the ceiling as if it was the heavens above. “Just calm down!”

Sharon and Alaska exchanged a glance.

“I’m just going to press this emergency option,” Alaska said slowly as she reached passed a now hyperventilating Eureka to press the button.

In the control room, Courtney, Adore and Willam jumped as a red siren on the wall with the words ELEVATOR EMERGENCY painted above it buzzed once, alerting them to a mishap they were clearly going to ignore.

“I’m going to call 911,” Sharon said, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she tapped away on her phone. “That’ll be much more effective.”

“How?” Alaska said in annoyance as she detected attitude in the other woman’s voice. Why was this chick making it a competition for who could save them the fastest? “That button is literally for this exact situation. And there’s no reception in here.”

“Is it hot in here or is it just me?” Eureka gasped, fanning herself with her hand.

“Maintenance is some young college drop out who only comes to fix things after she’s had her fifth cigarette on her four break,” Sharon scoffed, bringing her phone to her ear. “Trust me, we’re not getting out anytime soon.”

Alaska could only blink in response.

“It’s too hot in here,” Eureka gasped, pulling at her brown uniform as it clung to her skin.

“Wh— what are you doing?” Alaska stammered as Eureka practically popped a button off in a bid to undress.

In the control room, three intrigued faces leaned in closer to the monitor, watching the plot of their silent film go completely off script.

“What… in the ever-loving fuck… is she doing?” Willam asked as they watched the FedEx employee disrobe.

“I… I can’t believe this,” Courtney said in astonishment as Adore tried and failed to hold back laughter.

“Now I know why God abandoned us,” Willam wheezed with laughter, absolutely perplexed at the scene unfolding on the screen. “You create humans and this is the shit that happens!”

Back in the elevator, Sharon and Alaska could only watch.

“I gotta get out of these clothes, try and calm down so I don’t have one of those panic attacks,” Eureka said, moving to sit on the floor as Alaska and Sharon stepped back into opposite corners of the small elevator. Alaska didn’t know where to look as Eureka exposed herself, stripping down to just her beige bra as she struggled to peel her overalls down her legs from her spot on the floor.

“This is how all good horror movies start,” Sharon commented, a smirk on her lips. “The elevator could just drop and kill us all.”

“Hey!” Alaska snapped as Eureka wailed from her spot on the floor. “You’re not helping.”

“And neither is that button of yours,” Sharon replied, cocking an eyebrow at a now speechless Alaska.

They stared each other down.

Alaska loved the colour of this other woman’s lipstick. It was a deep, velvety burgundy that looked so striking against her pale skin and black hair. If she wasn’t such a bitch, Alaska would have asked her where it was from. If Eureka wasn’t here, she would have pressed her against the wall and kissed her hard.

“There’s no reception here,” Sharon huffed, finally dropping her phone into her handbag.

“I said that before,” Alaska said.

“No you didn’t?” Sharon lied, wondering how much she could rile up this hot blonde.

“Oh my god! Yes I did!” Alaska exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

A lot, apparently.

“I’m gonna throw up,” Eureka announced, rocking on the floor slightly.

Everyone froze.

“Don’t you dare,” Sharon ordered as Alaska instinctively stepped back and placed her hand over her mouth.

“Someone needs to rub my back,” Eureka whined, gesturing to her back which was coated in a sheen of panic induced sweat. “It might not stop the nausea, but it might help.”

Sharon looked at Alaska. Alaska looked at Sharon.

In an instant, Alaska began repeatedly pressing the Emergency Assist button like her life depended on it while Sharon dialed the police again, ready to throttle the first person she saw if they ever made it out of this cursed elevator.

Back in the control room, the assistants made the final call.

“Alright, that’s it!” Willam exclaimed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “This is a mess, get ‘em out!”

The emergency siren buzzed loudly each time Alaska forcefully pressed that button, lighting up the room with a bright red flashing light that never gave up.

“I feel like I’m in hell,” Courtney yelled, her hands over her ears.

“Hell is that elevator,” Adore joked.

She jumped from her seat, slapped on her utility belt and grabbed her toolbox before saluting the women and leaving to fix the elevator.

“Jesus,” Willam laughed, rubbing her neck as she paced around the small control room. “Well apart from it not working out at all, that was kinda fun.”

She turned and saw Courtney flop into Adore’s empty seat, her face looking as defeated as her slumped posture.

“Hey,” Willam said softly, using the toe of her electric blue stiletto to gently nudge Courtney’s wheely office chair. “We tried.”

Courtney shrugged her shoulders.

“I just had such high hopes!” Courtney finally exclaimed. “I wanted them to fall in love! I wanted to see sparks fly! And instead it just looks like they fought.”

Willam didn’t argue. Sharon had that cocky look on her face Willam knew all too well, and Alaska’s up-tight body language didn’t appear positive at all. But even though Courtney’s idea didn’t go as planned, it still happened.

“Look, I know fireworks didn’t go off and they didn’t grind up against a wall—“

“Willam—“

“Oh come on, I wanted that to happened, don’t act like you didn’t too.”

Courtney didn’t debate it.

“But your plan still worked. Sure, they might not be in love yet, but at least they know each other, which was a hell of a lot better than where they were 10 minutes ago.“

Courtney was silent for a moment as she contemplated.

“Yeah,” She said slowly. “That’s true. And like, this doesn’t mean our work is over. We can just try something different, or plant more seeds, or arrange more plans.”

“Exactly,” Willam smiled, watching as Courtney slowly got her positive attitude back.

“Wait look,” Willam said suddenly, spotting something over Courtney’s shoulder. There on the monitor was Adore slowly appearing on the screen as she pried the elevator doors apart from where it was stuck on Level 5.

They laughed as they watched Sharon clap and Alaska bounce on her toes as the doors were opened. Moving to look over at Sharon, Alaska smiled at her before tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and looking down, just as Sharon glanced over at her.

“Oh my GOD did you see that?” Willam yelled as Courtney squealed.

“Yes!”

“That was a smile!”

“And a hair tuck!”

“That was something!”

Courtney couldn’t help herself. She pulled Willam into a hug, who hugged her back just as tightly, euphoria bubbling through them at the sight of a shy smile. They bounced on their toes, before Courtney broke the hug first to keep looking at the screen, catching the moment their bosses finally escaped the elevator as everyone involved applauded.

Suddenly, their phones vibrated at the same time.

Alaska/Boss: Courtney I just got stuck in the elevator!!! I need a Xanax ASAP :((

Big Daddy: Willam you won’t believe the fucking shit I just went through holy fuck

“Well I call that a success,” Willam said after their both quickly tapped out a reply.

“Me too,” Courtney smiled. Caught up in the excitement of the moment, Courtney swallowed her nerves and pushed forward.

“Would you like… well I mean if we’re not working tonight, which will probably will be, but do you wanna get drinks tonight? I don’t know, I just think we need to celebrate, and also plan stage two of this whole thing.” She could have said it more gracefully, but at least she said it.

Willam looked up from her phone. “Oh we totally should! I can’t do tonight though, I’ve got plans with my girlfriend, it’s our 6-month. Next week we’re definitely continuing this though!"

Courtney could only nod along, not really taking in anything Willam was saying after the word girlfriend. Willam’s phone buzzed again.

“I gotta run, Sharon needs me. We’ll keep each other posted, yeah?”

Courtney just nodded. “Yep!”

After Willam left, Courtney sunk back down into the chair and didn’t move, instead staring at nothing while trying to understand what she was feeling. She refused to accept that it felt like her heart was breaking. That was entirely too dramatic, even for her standards. It was never in a place to break, but right now it kind of just felt like it had… popped. Like a red heart shaped balloon gently rising before Willam had swiftly exploded it right in front of her eyes with a sharp ‘girlfriend’ shaped needle. It was a dumb crush, and the vibes she had gotten from Willam, which only further fueled her little infatuation further, was all something she made up in her head.

It was a dumb crush, Courtney told herself again.

“Here we are! Today’s deliveries, tomorrow’s box office hits,” Willam said in a sarcastically cheerful manner as she pushed a small trolley full of paper into Sharon’s office and towards the couch where her boss was currently reclining. Her high heels were kicked off and a half finished vodka soda sat on her coffee table.

Every single day Sharon was delivered stacks of screenplays that Willam would organize and present to her. Every single day Willam was able to hold hours, weeks, months of people’s hard work in her hands, their hopes and dreams there in black and white, and every single day Sharon tore them to shreds.

Sharon slid her glasses on and peered at the title of the one on top. “The House. Let me guess, a white family moves into a haunted house they know is haunted and are surprised when they start getting haunted.” She opened the first page to skim-read the synopsis. “Correct!”

Grabbing the entire screenplay, Sharon promptly threw it into the fireplace next to her, almost choking the flames before they bounced back and roared to life against the hundreds of pages.

As Sharon grabbed another, Willam sat down on one of the plush chairs opposite her and began tabulating data, writing ‘GOOD’ ‘MAYBE’ or ‘FIRE’ next to titles considered for just today alone.

After 5 minutes of silent reading, Sharon posed a question without looking up.

“Have you ever seen a blonde in this building?”

Willam froze.

Sharon was still looking at the page in front of her, but Willam wondered if she had even read a word in the 5 minutes they had been sitting there.

“Yes, I’m a blonde myself,” Willam joked, her heart racing at what she thought Sharon was asking. Was she asking about Alaska? Had their plan actually worked?

“You’re not a blonde, you look like a My Little Pony doll threw up on your hair while it was retouching your roots. That’s why Aquaria’s always grabbing at it when she sees you,” Sharon tried not to smile.

“I’ve seen some blondes… you’ll have to be more specific,” Willam probed. Even if Sharon wasn’t going to mention Alaska, Willam loved the idea of at least someone grabbing her lonely bosses attention.

Sharon pressed her lips together, before suddenly reciting every feature of someone who looked impressively like Alaska.

“She’s tall, a bit taller than me. Really skinny, but like not too skinny, I don’t know, she looks like a good weight, you know what I mean? Curvy, but like that’s not the point. Really plushy lips, I remember because they’re just as fake as mine. Gorgeous, has these really dark eyes, really fashionable. She was holding a magazine. She kind of drags out her words and while you’d think that’d be annoying, I can’t get her voice out of my head…”

Willam screamed internally.

“Oh! Did you say blonde before? I think that’s Alaska Thunderfuck, Editor of Her, this gay fashion mag for women. She started it all, I think. Really cool chick. Their office is in our building. Why do you ask?”

Sharon could only blink in response to the wave of valuable information.

“I think that’s who I could stuck in the elevator with,” Sharon said almost breathlessly before she cleared her throat. “Get me her number… wait actually, her email… I need… to thank her because it was her idea to press the maintenance button, and they saved us in the end.”

Willam couldn’t fucking wait to tell Courtney.

“Sure,” Willam replied, calming rising from her seat and leaving Sharon’s office. Once seated at her desk, her legs tapped against the floor, too excited to remain still. She messaged Courtney instantly.

Willam: SHARON JUST ASKED FOR ALASKA’S EMAIL BECAUSE SHE WANTS TO SAY THANK U FOR PRESSING THE BUTTON I’M DYING WE DID IT

Courtney: Yay!

Willam frowned at the short, arguably lackluster response, but Courtney was probably just busy. She passed Alaska’s email to Willam, who passed it along to Sharon via a Post It note 5 minutes later.

“What are you gonna say?” Willam asked, not retreating from Sharon’s office.

“Thank you for pushing that button,” Sharon snapped. “Duh.”

“Do you want me to help you draft it?” Willam asked eagerly.

Sharon frowned at her from her curled up spot on the couch, her phone in one hand and her vodka soda in another, though it shook slightly. Willam just knew Sharon was nervous.

“No,” Sharon said quietly. “I’m fine, you can go.”

Willam turned on her heel and existed the office, only to open Sharon’s emails on her own computer. She had all of Sharon’s passwords, they both knew this, but a level of trust was there that meant Willam only went into her inbox for emergency purposes only.

This was an emergency.

Almost half an hour later, a message appeared in Sharon’s Sent folder.

To: Alaska Thunderfuck

From: Sharon Needles

Subject: Thank You

Hi Alaska,

It’s Sharon, one of the women who was caught in the elevator before (not from FedEx). I just wanted to thank you for pressing the emergency assist button earlier. I didn’t think it would have worked, so without you who knows if we’d still be in there.

Warm regards,

Sharon Needles

CEO of Scream Queens

Willam gritted her teeth at that fact that Sharon hadn’t grabbed herself by the balls and just asked Alaska out. But still – baby steps.

“What do you know about Sharon Needles?” Alaska asked after she had called Courtney into her office.

Courtney’s deflated mood went on hold for a moment while her heart rose in her chest.

“Sharon? Sharon Needles?” Courtney stalled. She barely knew anything about Sharon, but she was about to sell the absolute shit out of her. Willam had just screenshotted Sharon’s email and sent it to her, so she hoped and prayed she knew where this was heading. “I know she’s some CEO of some big film company… like some queer horror film company… kind of like Her… but for films.”

“I get the concept,” Alaska hurried her along. “It turns out that’s who I was stuck in the elevator with.”

“Oh my god! Wow!” Courtney exclaimed, as if Alaska had just had a run in with Barack Obama. Too much, she told herself.

“Yeah… anyway,” Alaska continued. “She just emailed me saying thank you because I was the one who saved us, and I thought that was really sweet of her to do… so what I’m wondering is… is it too forward to ask to grab a drink with her?”

Courtney grinned.

“Absolutely not.”

“I just don’t want to seem too like… desperate or too much too soon or like weird?” Alaska shifted in her seat, visibly anxious.

“Well,” Courtney persuaded, tapping her chin with her fingers as she was thinking long and hard, “I think the fact that she went through the effort to track you down, find your email, and personally tell you thank you means she has some sort of interest in you… So I don’t think she would be blindsided at all. I think she would love to grab a drink with you.”

Alaska pursed her plumped lips and tapped her fake acrylic nails against her desk. Courtney didn’t breathe as her boss contemplated her words.

“Alright,” Alaska decided, inhaling deeply. “But Courtney, can you… help me write it?"

Touched at the offer, Courtney beamed. “Of course.”

When Courtney returned home, her mood had risen since the 2pm elevator fiasco. Her and Alaska had drafted the perfectly casual but to the point email asking Sharon out. Alaska hadn’t sent it yet, though, wanting to sleep on the offer as if to not seem over eager. Courtney had tried to push her into it, but also feared scared Alaska entirely. While that factor was annoying, it was miles ahead of where she predicted they’d end up when she woke up this morning. Sure, the elevator scheme wasn’t how she thought they’d get there, but they did it.

Her heart skipped a beat when she thought about the control room from earlier, which will forever be tainted with Willam’s revelation of a girlfriend. Why was it still bothering her? The thought was ripped from Courtney’s mind though when she entered her living room, a romantic scene of candles, pillows on the floor and rose petals disorientating her.

“What’s all this?” Courtney asked, before spotting Farrah with her arms around her girlfriend Aja.

Upon seeing Courtney, the two girls broke apart and turned to face her, their cheeks wet with tears of happiness.

“Courtney!” Farrah cried. “Aja just proposed to me!”

She held up her left hand, showcasing two pink little gems on either side of a beautiful diamond that Courtney instantly wondered how Aja could afford. Immediately dropping her late night groceries, Courtney gasped and threw her arms around her roommate, before pulling Aja into the hug as well.

“Oh my god! That’s incredible! Congratulations!” Courtney gushed, admiring Farrah’s ring and asking about every detail, and also requesting to have a glass of the champagne current going around between the two of them.

After over an hour of catching up and celebrating, Courtney retired to her bedroom and crawled under the covers after her shower. The entire day played through her mind as her body refused to fall asleep.

She thought about Willam’s fiery dress against her pristine office, meeting Adore in the graffiti filled alleyway, the wink Willam threw over her shoulder. She remembered the code name of koala Willam had given her, and how hard she had laughed when Courtney called her a peacock. She thought about the control room, the monitors, and how Willam had squeezed her just as hard when they hugged and it was Courtney who had to be the one to pull away first, because Willam was making no motion of letting go. She thought about Willam and her girlfriend, Alaska’s smile and hair tuck, Sharon’s email, Alaska’s desire for a date, Willam’s wink, the engagement, Willam’s girlfriend, Willam.

Courtney wanted to cry in frustration; she just wanted her mind to turn off. Grabbing her phone, she searched for a distraction, going through all her apps before finding herself on Tinder. Left… left… left, left, left, definitely left. It was the same old story. Courtney was about to give up, turn her phone off and try to go to sleep, when her final swipe of the night actually showed potential and caught her attention.

Andrew, 28

I have a British accent, need I say more?

Courtney rolled her eyes at the sentence, but he was without a doubt the most attractive person she’d ever seen on Tinder. Brown hair, blue eyes, Prince Charming jaw line.

Feeling like everyone else in her life was in love except her, Courtney swiped right.

#rosie #playing cupid #cisgirl au #fluff #adore delano #courtney act #alaska thunderfuck #sharon needles #aja #farrah moan #rpdr fanfiction #witney #shalaska #lesbian au

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snowbellewells · 6 years ago

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Wake Me Up (Before You Go Go)

“Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go)”

By: snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

(This is really and truly nothing but a small bit of fun fluff. Even the WHAM! song I appropriated the title from is just goofy and always makes me smile. I can’t help but imagine all kinds of just silly, everyday things for our married pirate and princess to be doing in Storybrooke parallel to season seven. There was a lot of rain when I started this last week, I pictured Killian waking Emma up in a way that got him into some mischief, and here we are…

I still don’t own them, but I do hope you enjoy! ;)

It had quickly become habit, once the Savior of Storybrooke and her pirate were married and set up house together, for Killian to rise early in the morning, have his coffee on their house’s open back porch overlooking their lawn running down to a rocky beach and beyond that the harbor, begin fixing breakfast for them all in time for Henry to partake before he headed off to school, and then to man the morning shift at the station. To say that Emma was grateful for the chance to cuddle further beneath the covers in their huge, luxurious bed and sleep in, was quite the understatement, but she reveled in the opportunity all the same.

Not that she would want to take advantage of her new husband – she still felt a smile spread over her lips and a warmth throughout her limbs at being able to call him hers – but the crazy man genuinely seemed to enjoy his time puttering around by himself in their house, watching the sun rise and going about caring for his family – a natural “early bird” if ever there was one. Beyond that, it stirred every fiber in her being as surely as the gentle rays of that rising sun filtering in through the white curtains at their windows, for Emma to lie still curled cozily in bed and hear the cheerful voices of her husband and son floating up from the kitchen directly below. Though she couldn’t make out their exact words, she basked in the joy and affection of their tones, which carried up the stairs to her waiting ears quite clearly. Very little could top how much she loved hearing her two True Loves – her family, her whole little word – enjoying each other’s company so completely; laughing and joking, speaking of their plans for the day ahead as they rattled around; Henry setting three places at their tall kitchen island – they always left one set for her, so she was ready to eat once she came down for her own breakfast, just in time to see her son off and wish him a good day – and Killian finishing the pancakes, eggs, or whatever more creative delicacy he had prepared that morning and plated it up. Emma could clearly picture them both munching bacon and talking amiably, Henry’s eyes lit with excitement as he shares the details of some story he’s writing, and her pirate’s eyes bright and attentive, giving her son all his focus in a way that Emma knows for a fact tells Henry just how much he matters to his stepdad, how Killian listens when he speaks as if Henry were the only person in the world.

As much as she did indeed love to sleep in, Emma in truth sometimes lingered in bed simply to give her two men their private few moments each morning; the father-son bonding an exquisite ache in her mother heart. She knew how very lucky she had been, with Henry’s father lost to him, to have found a man who genuinely loved her son as his own – who had never hesitated to do so. He was willing to risk his own life – throw himself between Henry and danger – even before they were ever fully a couple, or she had even given him certain indication that they would be. He cared for Henry enough in his own right that he would have stepped back for Henry’s family to be whole if events had gone that way, and all of his own accord, Killian had given Henry memories of his father Neal at the boy’s own age, something Henry could hold to when the chance to know his father had been ripped away. It meant more to Emma than she could ever truly articulate to Killian, though she had tried and felt he understood more than anyone else would have managed to grasp.

That particular morning, as she rolled over onto her back and blinked into wakefulness, Emma was confused for a moment not to hear any of the usual clatter and hum of typical morning conversation. Scrunching her bow for a moment in thought, she remembered slowly that it was Saturday, Henry was with Regina for the weekend, and so Killian was probably still out on the porch with his morning brew, or had perhaps even ventured down to the docks to check on his beloved ship, while waiting for her to wake up and join him for whatever the day might hold.

As she awakened more fully, Emma registered the gentle pelting of rain on the roof overhead, a soothing rhythm that coaxed her awake with its natural symphony, soft and gentle. She listened to it contentedly while debating if she was ready to crawl out of her den of blankets and seek out her husband – maybe they could sit on the porch together and just watch the downpour while wrapped in each other’s arms – when suddenly cold wetness broke into her thoughts, smacking against her side suddenly and soaking through her night shirt and across her cheek.

“Ahh! What on Earth!?” she gasped out, spluttering in confused surprise and quickly turning to see if somehow the window had blown open, only to meet the twinkling eyes of her pirate, droplets of sea water running down his face from his sopping hair, and having just snuck up and leapt back into bed with her, rain drenched clothing and all, nearly chortling with fiendish glee at her reaction.

Not content with merely having roused her into startled wakefulness and thoroughly chilling her from the cozy warmth she’d been lingering in, Killian proceeded to wrap her tightly in his arms – despite his sopping state – like some crazed octopus, and rub his dripping scruff playfully up her neck and over her cheek.

Half annoyed and half fighting not to laugh at his antics, Emma struggled to detach herself from his enthusiastic grip and smacked at his leather jacket clad shoulder, which only resulted in a wet squelching sound and him gathering her impossibly closer still.

“Killian, seriously?!” she finally exclaimed. “You’re cold and wet! What are you doing?!?”

Grinning with enough mischief and waggling eyebrow action to make her give in and smile back in spite of herself, Killian did finally release her and scooted back a bit when he felt her shiver. “Well, I’ve been enjoying the peaceful morn alone for quite some time now, wife of mine, and the idea struck that being curled up by the fire, watching the rain fall on the harbor, would be ever so much more enticing if you would join me. A surefire method of rousing you seemed to be in order, Love.”

“Did it now?” she questioned drily, quirking a skeptical eyebrow at him in an effort to appear unamused for one last ditch moment. Truth be told, there was something in his honest desire for her company, even still, long after he had won her heart, they had married, and the two of them had more or less settled down together, which did her soul infinite good. For so much of Emma Swan’s life, no one had even seemed to notice if she existed at all; she could have vanished from the face of the Earth chasing some skip in Boston, and there wouldn’t have been a single person to miss her. Killian’s desire to simply share his morning with her, realizing that he wouldn’t be fully content until she joined him, made genuine happiness swell through her from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. It was hard for Emma to believe that she had actually once wanted to be anonymous, lost in a sea of faces she cared nothing for so she couldn’t be hurt again, and it had taken this lost man – this pirate who had given up all hope until they met – to show her just how far from the truth she was. What was a bit of a chill and having to dry the sheets and pillowcases compared to that?

“Fine, you win,” she only pretended to grumble, shoving him a bit as she flung the covers off herself and began to get up. “I’m getting out of bed. See?”

Killian nodded, looking ridiculously pleased with himself and then leaned in, quick as a flash, to smack another loud, sloppy kiss to her cheek and dart away before she could whirl to catch him. Practically dancing across the room to the door as Emma huffed and squawked indignantly, he merely called back, “Excellent, my Love! I shall see you down there!” before making a swift exit.

“And there’d better be coffee!” Emma called out after him before moving to the dresser to pick up her brush and make some sort of haphazard bun once she’d combed the tangled – and slightly damp – waves of her hair. Shaking her head and smiling to herself, she pulled some sweats on with the oversized shirt of her husband’s she’d slept in and moved eagerly to join him. She had to give him a bit of hard time, if just for show, but she would happily start every morning just like this.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @spartanguard @drowned-dreamer @searchingwardrobes @branlovesouat @linda8084 @bcmbbcs4evr @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @jackieorioncat @blackwidownat2814 @revanmeetra87 @winterbaby89 @unltraluckycatnd @capswantrue @celestial-fire-writer @kiwistreetswan @psymplemind @ilovemesomekillianjones

#cs ff #cs fluff #parallel season 7 swan jones family fic #cs one shot

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pixelgrotto · 6 years ago

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The horrific Resident Evil playthrough, part ten

Resident Evil 6 is the big one that I was anticipating when I started this series playthrough in March. It’s the one that seems to have split the fanbase like no other, the one that some folks love and others abhor, and the one that took Resident Evil so far into the realm of explosions on top of zombies on top of exploding zombies that the franchise had no choice but to dial the entire thing back in Resident Evil 7 in order to give everyone’s minds a break before those exploded too. There is, in fact, a particular sort of enemy in this game that represents it well - called the Whopper, it’s a giant Fat Albert-looking thing that charges at you in a truly grotesque example of fun character design. It’s a bioweapon to be reckoned with, and when you see one coming your way, all you can say is “OH SHIT” as you try to blast its head apart before it barrages you into a wall.

RE6 is a whopper of a game. It’s chock full of so many different gameplay styles, so many plot threads, so many bits and pieces barely holding together at the seams in a mad effort to appease all sectors of the fan base - the people who preferred Resident Evil when it was eerie and quiet, the fans who fell in love with the series when Resident Evil 4 introduced an emphasis on action and the shippers who just love the characters and want to see them press the trigger of a Magnum at the same time and let loose with a bullet that will send the remains of a hulking Serbian mutation go stumbling backwards into the flames of a burning wind tunnel.

The only way to properly assess RE6 in the midst of all this madness is to look at its four campaigns one-by-one, which took me 33 hours in total to complete, a staggering number for this series.

Leon’s campaign - Everyone’s favorite Resident Evil protagonist who is still rocking Leonardo DiCaprio 90s hair (even though he’s aging in real-time and is apparently in his late 30s now) is BACK in this campaign, which seems to be the one that the game wants you to play first. It’s a rollicking adventure which I personally thought was the best of the bunch, though I wouldn’t blame you if you found Chris’ campaign better. I think I was won over by the fan service, since Leon’s opening chapter immediately channels Resident Evil 2 by forcing you to escape Tall Oaks, an American metropolitan area that’s essentially Raccoon City 2.0. Zombies will be lurching at you from the darkness like the old games, you’ve gotta run through subway cars just like in RE2 and RE3, and the whole vibe actually approaches scary at a few moments, which is something that the rest of this game has absolutely no time for. Partnered with Leon is Helena, a new character who’s also a US government agent but frankly kind of boring, and the pair quickly find themselves wrapped up in a conspiracy engineered by a politician named Derek Simmons. To figure out the extent of his conspiracy, you’ve gotta play Ada’s campaign (all the characters’ stories intersect at various points, which is one of this game’s best ideas), but let’s just say that Leon’s party ends in a wild rush to a made-up Chinese city named Lanshiang - which, from the POV of someone who lived in Hong Kong for six years, is clearly HK under another name. Half of Lanshiang gets blown up, Simmons transforms into what looks like a T-Rex and then a giant insect kaiju, and the general tone is deliciously batshit, though if you don’t like batshit then your mileage will vary. Leon gets music that I like to call "Funky Zombie Porno Breakbeats” for his ending theme, and I feel like this phrase can summarize the tone of the entire Resident Evil franchise perfectly.

Chris’ campaign - If Leon’s adventure was the cheesy-but-occasionally-spooky “LET’S TAKE THESE ZOMBIES TO SUPLEX CITY, CHUMS” vibe of Resident Evil 4 on acid, then Chris’ campaign is the “MILITARY ESPIONAGE ACTION AGAINST BIOWEAPONS, BRUH” vibe of Resident Evil 5 on acid. It begins with Chris suffering from a bout of PTSD after losing a contingent of his men in a made-up country that’s supposed to be Serbia, then moves to Lanshiang after ace sniper Piers recruits Chris for one last mission. Instead of zombies, you fight mostly J’avo, a breed of terrorists using viruses to give themselves horrific limbs, and everything resembles a Call of Duty or SOCOM game, with Chris hearing instructions from his squad leader through his headpiece, ducking behind cover to shoot J’avos apart and generally being a weathered, grumpy soldier. The main theme of Chris’ campaign is actually removed from the overarching tale involving Simmons, and the focus is instead on the quieter, MANLY subplot about how all these years of fighting monstrosities has worn Mr. Redfield down. He needs to learn how to be a soldier once more, and Piers - a guy who I was initially suspicious of because he’s a pretty boy with nicely groomed hair, and those sorts are usually lame in Japanese video games - comes through as one of the most likable additions to Resident Evil lore in a long time to offer Chris much-needed support. The entire campaign might actually be better if played as Piers instead of Chris, especially due to a touching ending scene which is probably the one moment where the game’s plot transcends crazy horror action and enters the realm of something actually thought-provoking. Chris’ campaign, in general, is also where RE6 seems the most focused and confident, though the cover shooting mechanics are clunky when compared to titles that actually specialize in cover shooting, like Gears of War. Chris also doesn’t have Funky Zombie Porno Breakbeats for his ending music, so Leon gets a tiny point ahead of him in my book, but not by much.

Jake’s campaign - I’ve read a few reviews that call this campaign the “experimental” one, and...yeaaaaah, it is. Jake, who’s the son of former Resident Evil baddie Albert Wesker, was presumably designed to serve as a bold new protagonist for future games, but he’s kind of an emo douchebag, so I played through the entirety of his missions as his partner Sherry Birkin. Sherry’s the little girl from Resident Evil 2 all grown up, which I think is genius, because she serves as a tangible example of this franchise’s progression over the years. You could probably show her picture to anyone unfamiliar with Resident Evil and be like, “That’s a formerly 10-year-old side character from the second game grown up into a secret agent” and get a response of "Woah, cool,” so yeah, I like Sherry a lot. In fact, her presence made this whole campaign tolerable, because Jake is an edgelord and his missions run the confused gamut from shoot ‘em up sections to weird exploration bits that seem to want to channel the spirit of the old games but don’t succeed. Then there are the stealth and chase sequences against Ustanak, the “hulking Serbian mutation” that I mentioned a few paragraphs ago. This fellow was clearly created to remind Resident Evil veterans of Mr. X and Nemesis from RE2 and RE3, but while those guys would break down walls and pop outta nowhere to put a lump in your throat, Ustanak’s every impending arrival is advertised from a mile away, to the point where he’s not really frightening - just redundant. And the stealth bits against him seem like B-tier ripoffs of sequences in Metal Gear Solid, because RE6′s engine is really not engineered for sneakiness. At one point, Sherry and Jake have to hide in garbage dumpsters as Ustanak sniffs around, and that serves as an accurate representation of what large portions of their campaign are. These two kiddies do get a cheesy love ballad for their ending song, though, because the game really wants you to ship ‘em. Sherry, ya deserve better.

Ada’s campaign - As messy as Jake’s campaign is, however, it’s nothing compared to Ada’s, which was originally an unlockable extra in the original release of RE6 and designed to tie up loose story threads. It does do that, though the resulting plot - where Simmons got so obsessed with Ada Wong that he whipped up an entirely new virus to re-create her and then lost track of it - is pretty meh, though it could perhaps be an intriguing exploration of the depths of male entitlement in the hands of a better writer. Aside from these pieces of so-so story, Ada’s adventure offers aggravation in the form of bad level design and a truly horrid slew of Quicktime Events and wretched stealth sections, which, once again, this game just doesn’t do well. It opens with her investigating a sub filled with guards that she’s encouraged to sneak past, except you can’t really sneak in RE6 and eventually they all notice and decide to gangbang you, and then the sub floods and there’s dizzying shaky cam everywhere that made me feel sick. You’re given a minimal amount of seconds to succeed on the Quicktime Events to escape the rising floodwaters, and I felt like I was playing a game of Dragon’s Lair, where you need to press right or left immediately or risk seeing yourself die over and over again. That sums up the frustration of Ada’s campaign, which also made me realize one important thing - I really don’t find Ada Wong to be much of an interesting character. She’s little more than a walking femme fatale trope, and even people who insist on shipping her with Leon will probably have to admit that those two’s “relationship,” if you can even call it that, is little more than quick winks and five minute interactions that have amounted to nothing over the span of nearly twenty years. The pair of them get ONE good scene on a bridge in this game, but that’s it, and honestly, their cornball kiss near the end of RE2 is still a more genuine character interaction. Oh yeah, and on the topic of ending music, since I seem to be coming back to that a lot in this post, Ada gets generic filler tunes for her credit roll. How appropriate.

As you can see in the impressions above, in its own special way, Resident Evil 6 has something for everyone, ranging from a quality tale about battle-hardened men shooting biomutations to terrible levels that feel like they came out of a 2005 PS2 game that was quickly relegated to the bargain bin at Gamestop. Reviews were all over the place when this sucker came out, and still are today, with just as many people insisting that this game is the shit as there are people emphasizing that it is shit. My verdict? It’s BOTH, with some truly excellent parts and some truly abhorrent ones. It could have done with some trimming, for sure, and at the end of the day, Leon’s and Chris’ campaigns feel like the only real important ones here. A streamlined and likely better-received version of Resident Evil 6 would’ve only focused on those two guys - since one pivotal scene where the pair meet for a few minutes, briefly scuffle and POINT THEIR GUNS AT EACH OTHER YEAAA FAN SERVICE - seems to have been written first. That would’ve given Resident Evil 6 a better balance, with Leon’s missions possibly focusing on old school survival horror and pulp while Chris’ missions would lean hard on the military action stuff.

But we didn’t get that. Instead, what we got is a shambling whopper of a game - at times as unwieldy and ridiculous as the enemy bearing the same name, at other times just as satisfying as a real-life beef whopper. Resident Evil 6 is both good and bad, the video game equivalent of an excessive and expensive comic book crossover, and shit, I think I’ve just written the most about it than any of its predecessors.

That, at the very least, has to count for something.

All screenshots taken by me. For more, check out this Twitter thread showing my step-by-step progress through the game.

#pixel grotto #video games #now playing #resident evil #biohazard #resident evil 6 #leon kennedy #chris redfield #piers nivans #jake muller #sherry birkin #capcom

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