#some outtakes from forever ago | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vettelsdarling · 7 months

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Youre one of my fav f1 writers on here and I would really love it if you could do a instagram au with a Brazilian model reader x Max!!! Its like their relationship is known and stuff and it’s just a bunch of fluff

𝐌𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭

Lissie note… Hi, thank you so much for the kind words. You’re too sweet! I actually really like this prompt, as I have a specific model in mind. Thank you for this!

Things to note:

Fc: Adriana Lima

Reader and Max have been dating for a few years

Reader is a world-renowned supermodel

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!Brazilian model!Reader

Warnings: Nothing but some cursing

Taglist: @drugged-kitkat, @allwaysalleyway

Playlist recommendations: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐌𝐕𝟏

yourusername

Liked by charlottesiine, francisca.cgomes, bellahadid and 2,384,288 others

Tagged: victoriassecret

yourusername Fun fun fun! Loved this walk💙🦋

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charlottesiine Gorgeous❤️

francisca.cgomes Lindaaaa💙💙💙

user1 Okay but how is anyone THIS pretty

user2 EXACTLY😩😩

user3 STOPPP THIS IS THE BEST WALK YETTT😩

user4 Literally

user5 Okay but any F1 fans here to say that Max is extremely lucky👀

user6 Fr. I would do anything to be him ughhh

user7 He stole her from me

user8 @ user7 us*

user9 Why Max and not me😔

user10 MOTHER😫

user11 She’s so amazing like istg

maxverstappen1

Liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, fernandoalo_oficial and 684,738 others

maxverstappen1 Lovely win here in Miami!

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yourusername Amazing❤️

Liked by maxverstappen1

user1 He wins in Miami, he wins the girlfriend lottery

user2 She’s so supportive too like where’s my gf?

user1 @ user2 Fr

user3 Hopefully he wins the championship🙏

user4 Okay but he will def win the next few races

user5 Yes. I just KNOW it will be like last year

user4 @ user5 I hope

user6 I’m so jealous of him. He keeps winning and he has the best gf ever like wtaf

user7 Exactly😭😭😭

yourusername posted a story

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, charlottesiine, francisca.cgomes and 2,744,372 others

yourusername 🪽✨

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maxverstappen1 ❤️

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

charlottesiine Never fail to impress❤️

yourusername Ah stoppp❤️

francisca.cgomes Linda girlll🔥

yourusername No you🔥

user1 Once again, mother worked the scene😩

user2 Nobody will ever be able to replace her

user3 Max is literally the luckiest man alive rn

user4 The way I NEED her so much

user5 She wants me so bad.

user6 @ user5 Say that to Max🤡

user7 She served breakfast, lunch, dinner, AND MIDNIGHT SNACKKK

user8 Mother will always be mothering like this

user9 Anyways, I’m manifesting my wedding day with her.

user10 Relatable

user11 I love that she’s happy with Max, but I can make her happier fr

user12 Delulu is the solulu

maxverstappen1 posted a story

maxverstappen1

Liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, landonorris and 463,739 others

Tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1 Life lately…

View all comments yourusername 💕

maxverstappen1 Gorgeous❤️

yourusername Handsome❤️

Liked by maxverstappen1

landonorris Life lately but there’s no pic of your raging sim racing moments… okay👀

maxverstappen1 Shut up

user1 They are literally MADE for each other.

user2 If they don’t last, how could anyone ever???

user3 Okay but how did they even meet

user4 You must be a new fan if you don’t know

user3 @ user4 and so what if I am? I just want to know

user5 They met at a gala in Brazil where she presented him an award. It’s like a few years ago or something.

user3 @ user5 Ohhh ty. That’s really cute though🥰

user6 They are the definition of a perfect couple

user7 I need them to get married ugh

user8 Manifesting they stay together forever😩❤️

user9 I love them together sm

user10 She is literally my fav wag EVER

user11 Her>>>>

user12 Her and Kika fr

user13 I love her paddock fits too. I hope they post some soon

user14 They prob will

yourusername

Liked by francisca.cgomes, gigihadid, maxverstappen1 and 2,893,199 others

yourusername Fun little outtakes from today’s shoot!

View all comments francisca.cgomes Should’ve kept these in because you are GORGEOUS🔥 Liked by yourusername

charlottesiine Such a beauty Liked by yourusername

user1 Mother will never stop being an icon

user2 She is literally TIMELESS

user3 I’m literally so in love with her wtaf

user4 She’s mine, so Max can back off now🥰

user5 Ummm I think you mean mine.

user6 You guys are completely wrong, she’s literally mine

user7 She belongs to NO ONE😩 She’s a national treasure

user8 How can someone literally be this gorgeous and say that these are outtakes???

user9 I literally do not get it

user10 She’s so ughhh❤️😩

maxverstappen1

Liked by yourusername, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 347,294 others

Tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1 Surprisingly good at tennis🎾

View all comments yourusername I don’t know how this works, but I should totally go to Wimbledon

maxverstappen1 If that ever happens, I will be there.

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️ Liked by maxverstappen1

user1 Can we just appreciate the amount of support that they show each other

user2 Power couple🔥🔥🔥

user3 Model and soon-to-be world champion in tennis🫶

user4 Mimicking Max

user5 It would actually be so cute if she became a world champion and they’d both be world champions😭❤️

user6 @ user5 I mean, she is technically world champion in the model world. Literally one of the most popular models in the world sooo

user5 @ user6 which is why they’re already so cute together

user7 Ugh I’m so jealous😭 I want what they have SO BAD

user8 No bc same

user9 I don’t know if I’d rather be max or her

user10 ikr? They’re both just 😫😫😫

wagsf1

23,738 likes

wagsf1 Max hugging @ yourusername after winning this weekend🤍

View all comments user1 Literally so fucking cute AHHHH

user2 He’s so lucky

user3 They look so cute together😭😭😭

user4 all-time fav wag tbh

user5 Him at her shows too>>>

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, charlottesiine, fransica.cgomes and 3,747,260 others

Tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername Little break from reality❤️

View all comments charlottesiine 🤍

yourusername 💕

user1 AHHHH OMG😭 They’re so cute

user2 I bet she drives better than Max on the road lol

user3 lmaoo yes

user4 So pretty in the 3rd pic😩

user5 Why is Max this lucky like wtaf

user6 Wtaf I’m sitting in my bedroom with a shitty romcom and they’re out here actually enjoying life😭

user7 Lmfao relatable

user8 I second that

user9 I’m so in love with them

user10 They’re textbook perfect. I swear.

maxverstappen1

Liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, landonorris and 473,882 others

Tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1 Appreciation post for my love, @ yourusername

View all comments user1 He really won the lottery like actually

user2 They are THE couple of the century.

user3 She’s literally gorgeous ugh😩

user4 Does anyone know how many years they’ve been dating?

user5 I think it’s like 4 years? Give or take a year??

user6 Yeah it is

user7 Fav couple on the grid

user8 Agreed. I LOVE THEM.

user9 Anyways so when’s the wedding?

user10 Literally

user11 Weddings aren’t EVERYTHING

user9 I’m just rooting for them that’s all smh

user12 They will grow old together. I’m manifesting it.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)

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raidergamerspice · 4 months

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It feels like forever ago, but I once made a tumblr post about what I thought Melanie Martinez's Cry Baby album plus the EP tracks would look like if all the songs were lowercase, to contrast the PORTALS songs all being uppercase. I still think it would've been a neat idea 🤷‍♀️

But anyway, I bring that up because I got struck with another idea: trying to figure out new names for some of the Cry Baby era songs (most of them outtakes) to better fit the theme of childhood. Like, one of the most important parts Melanie's albums is that the songs for each album fit the theme for said album, from Cry Baby being about birth and childhood to K-12 being about school and growing up, and PORTALS being about spirituality and rebirth. But when looking at all the songs from the Cry Baby era, especially the outtakes, I can't help but notice many of them having names that just...don't strike me as childhood-themed. I'm not criticizing Melanie in her talent, obviously she named each song whatever she felt fit them best, and I still respect that. But I also can't help but think that some songs stick out like sore thumbs when you take the overall theme into consideration.

So, here are my ideas for what to rename certain Cry Baby era songs to better fit the theme:

Bittersweet Tragedy: Melted Ice Cream. The lyrics mention melting a couple times, as well as ice cream near the beginning. I feel like a good metaphor for a relationship falling out could be the feeling of ice cream melting in your hands; it was gone before you could really enjoy it. And of course, kids would be devastated if ice cream melted before they could eat it. Plus, there was a missed opportunity for Melanie to not have a song called Ice Cream - yes, there is I Scream, technically, but no reason to not have both. Two outtakes are literally called Eraser and Erase Her.

Bombs on Monday Morning: Pinky Promise. This was really what kickstarted my idea because even though it's a great song for an outtake, a title like that is not very kid like. Kids should not be exposed to bombs. Period. So, I figured that Pinky Promise is a more childhood-themed title, especially since that's what opens the whole song in the lyrics. Alternatively, it could even be shortened to simply Monday Morning, though perhaps a title like that would fit the theming for K-12 more than Cry Baby since it could also be school-related (although bombs and school going together is not something we like to think about, ever).

Dead To Me: Rainy Days. It's mentioned once in the lyrics to go along with the main premise of the song being present at a funeral in the rain. Personally, I hope that children aren't going around and telling people "you're dead to me" in any context, so try Rainy Days instead. Some kids like rainy days because they can jump in puddles and whatnot, or they don't like rainy days because it means they can't play outside. Either way, kids have some kind of connection to rainy days.

Drowning: Clock in the Kitchen. This was a weird one because to quote the Melanie Martinez wiki, "This song is an unfinished concept with no concrete theme, tune, or even confirmed lyrics. It contains some gibberish as Melanie was trying out different melodies for the song and did not have many lyrics figured out, and its already existing lyrics seem to tell a vague story that doesn't make much sense." Because of this, the only lyric available that I figured could be somewhat childhood-themed is Clock in the Kitchen. I don't know, maybe some kids grew up with cuckoo clocks in their parents' kitchen? Besides, a Cry Baby outtake called Drowning has me thinking of Ben Drowned 💀

Gold Diggin' Love: Shelved. Kids really shouldn't be exposed to gold diggers at a young age. But like Drowning, this was a pretty hard one to rename. I settled with Shelved since it is a word in the lyrics, and it made me think of Toy Story 2, with Mr. Potato Head telling Rex that "Woody's been shelved". Kids definitely would have their favorite toys or other items be "shelved" for one reason or another. Plus, within the context of the song, the titular Gold Digger basically "shelves" her lovers as she goes through them.

Half Hearted: Half and Half. In this case, I'm mostly projecting a part of my own childhood - one time when I was a kid, I ate cereal with half and half instead of milk because we were out of milk and I thought there wasn't a difference. My mom found it funny, but I haven't done that since. Maybe there were kids that made that same mistake, or there could be other instances where "half and half" describes a certain situation? I don't know, maybe this song didn't need a rename.

Haunted: Ghost Stories. I suppose you can argue that this didn't need a rename either since kids might love the scare of a certain place being "haunted", like haunted houses. But in case it was too scary to childhood-themed for the album, Ghost Stories might be a better alternative, since kids also love telling/hearing ghost stories.

Mistakes: Break Rules. I'm kinda reaching at this point, mainly because the first thing I thought of when I saw the title of this song was the fact that some kids were told by their parents that they were "mistakes", and that's heartbreaking. Since the song is about childhood rebellion, I thought that Break Rules or something similar was a slightly nicer name.

Psycho Lovers: Down the Rabbit Hole. I mean, explain to me how a title like Psycho Lovers can be childhood-themed. I don't think you can. Since the lyrics involve asking someone to go down a rabbit hole with them, I thought that'd be a great alternative, especially since it can go hand in hand with Mad Hatter.

Schizo: Favorite Toy. Schizophrenia is definitely a difficult subject for children to comprehend in any context, so I personally find it hard to imagine a kid referring to someone with it as a "schizo" (I could be wrong, of course, maybe it's happening somewhere in the world right now). But with the lyrics presenting Melanie as someone else's "favorite toy" for someone else really made a case for Favorite Toy to be a good alternative title. I mean, kids always have favorite toys.

Trophy Wife: Miss Pageant Queen. Much like Gold Diggin' Love, a trophy wife is something I don't like the idea of children knowing about at a young age, since it could potentially lead them to growing up believing that that's an acceptable term to describe someone as. And since there are kids that compete in pageants, I feel like Miss Pageant Queen was a more fitting name for the theme. Of course, child pageants in general are a bit of a rough subject anyway, in my opinion, but I digress.

You Love I: Puppet Show. I don't know if kids would ever say "you love I" in any context, 'cause I wouldn't as an adult. But I can assume that some kids enjoy puppet shows, so Puppet Show might be a better alternative.

What do you think? Are these good alternative names? I don't completely want to replace their names in my head or anything, I just think that, if Melanie committed to the theme of childhood for all the songs she wrote for the Cry Baby era, these might have been what she'd use, too.

As for her other era songs, I only came up with alternative names for a small handful of After School songs (all but one being outtakes, of course). I just felt like they didn't exactly fit the school them like the others:

Absorb: Project Piece. I'm honestly not sure why Melanie settled on naming it Absorb when something like Project Piece was right there, especially since it fits the song's theme of two people trying to make their relationship work. Working on a project is a perfect metaphor for a couple working on their relationship.

Brain & Heart: Calculated. I actually love the original title, but again, it just doesn't really fit the school theme that much, in my opinion. I feel like Calculated would fit better, since everyone used calculators in school lmao.

Maze: Blame Game. I've personally never been to a school that had a maze, if we're being literal. I know that they exist, but I've never physically seen one. I feel like Blame Game is slightly better since school is full of so much drama, blame games are played all the time.

Paper Cut: Stitches. This one is different from the others because it's not that I don't think the original title is school-themed, 'cause it is. It's just that...there's also a K-12 outtake called Papercut. As you can imagine, fans are annoyed that two different outtakes have far too similar names (they're literally the same name, with one having a space breaking it up), so many of them have opted to refer to it as Stitches instead to reduce confusion.

Phew, that was a lot lmao. What do you think of these? Are they good ideas, or was there no reason for me to even bother? I mainly did this as a fun project, as it were, and I just wanted to share with the class (heh, these school puns).

Also, I left the PORTALS era songs alone because they honestly seem fine on their own, for the most part (though WALKIE TALKIE is an interesting one 🤔)

#melanie martinez #cry baby #k-12 #after school #just some ideas to make all the appropriate era songs fit their themes #not something to take seriously #just potential conversation starters I guess

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septembersghost · 1 year

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hi!! so i’ve been lurking on your blog for a minute and i love how much you love elvis!! it’s super sweet and interesting to me and you’ve inspired me to start learning about him, but i just have no idea where to start. there are like 20,000 albums on spotify 💀 so i was wondering if you could help me out by recommending certain songs/albums you really love/think are essential as a starting point? and i’d love to know if there are any specific books or documentaries you think are really good too. thank you so much!!!

hi!!! anon this is so lovely and kind of you. 🥺 and you're welcome here any time, whether that's to lurk and peruse or to say hello! it's extraordinarily touching that anyone ever looks at my silly posts, or if they can inspire you to listen or learn more in any way (about anything!, but it warms my heart with elvis particularly...he deserves it). i know his discography is staggering and very hard to navigate because of the way it's laid out and the amount of albums/compilations/live recordings/sessions there are.

there's honestly not a wrong place to start, but the obvious is his first self-titled record with RCA in 1956, he's just this young, enthusiastic talent and all pure potential. my beloved is the 1969 album from elvis in memphis, you can hear the passion and invigoration he was feeling creating that music in that time and space. it has a sister album with back in memphis. there are honestly gems across so many records for various reasons, it makes it difficult to narrow down! if starting with compilations/overviews is easier (and sometimes it is!), there's the #1s (this was the first album of his i had, long ago!), the essentials, or if i can dream (which is long but has a lot of great cuts). a bunch of songs will overlap between these because they're the Iconic Tracks, i secretly cherish some of the lesser known music even more, but the famous songs are well-known for a reason! i also really love the compilations they did with the london philharmonic - they added the orchestrations over the original tracks, but the arrangements are so beautiful and full and (to me) highlight his vocals rather than overwhelming them, and i just know he would've loved to perform them in such a lush way. if i can dream (they reused this title, but i cannot blame them. that song is so important, i could wax on about it forever), the wonder of you. if you want a feeling of his live electricity, it has to be the recording of the '68 special, and/or that's the way it is. i have to mention how great thou art, gospel music was particularly dear to him and this album won him his first grammy (his only grammy awards were all in the sacred category). it's interesting too because they split the album into an "a" side, with slower hymns, and a "b" side, with uptempo songs, which is the same concept they utilized on something for everybody, "a" side ballads, "b" sides rock and roll. also i would be remiss not to mention the movie soundtrack (i am linking the deluxe for Reasons!!!), it's not all elvis himself, but the other performances, from austin and from modern day artists, are a really fun experience and speak to the way his music still resonates and can feel really timeless. there's still so much i'm leaving off of this, but i know it's a LOT to sort through.

the '68 comeback special (the file labeled "disc 1" should be the full performance itself, the other two are outtakes/other versions of the session and such!) is a must. there's also a documentary upcoming from producer/director steve binder (who also published a book on the special) in may! the documentary/concert that's the way it is from 1970 is so good and highlights not only his skill as a performer but a lot of his personality, and 1972's elvis on tour is fun too! there's an HBO documentary from 2018 called the searcher that i personally thought was beautifully done and presented. i know there's tons of stuff out there and it's as confusing to parse through as the music, and the books are even harder to navigate. the ones considered the most comprehensive are peter guralnick's the last train to memphis and careless love, they're more scholarly/journalistic than personal. the personal memoirs can all be very tricky and subjective (as other anons and i have discussed recently), though i know a lot of people enjoyed his friend jerry schilling's book me and a guy named elvis (i have read many bits and pieces of it, a bad habit of mine with books recently, but need to read it properly!). elvis: the legend is SO gorgeous and officially released from graceland, so it doesn't delve into the harder struggles or gossipy stuff, it traces his career/music/accomplishments, but that's what i love to learn about and prioritize in many ways. also, on instagram, walking in memphis is a fan page, but she shares really nice stories and photographs that delve into his humanity and character (there are many fan accounts, and good ones!, but hers might be my favorite that i've found). if anyone else has recommendations they'd like to add to this, please do!!!

i don't know if this helps, there are likely better people to ask than me and i'm honored you'd trust me to try. 😭 i hope it does give you a beginning, if you want any more information/clarification, please feel free to come back! this brightened my day (well, night! so you are a star!), thank you again for being so sweet and sending this to me. 💖💖💖

edit: elvis is back!, from the comments <3

also this is how i feel every time anyone asks me about him:

#i shouldn't publish this at 12:30 am but i am going to anyway #anon you are so <3 <3 <3 #anonymous #letterbox #elvis presley #i was a dreamer #me: this is a fairly decent overview i think?#also me: none of these albums include never been to spain which invalidates the entire endeavor!#apologies to aus specifically since that's his jam

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magentagalaxies · 11 months

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43. Do you enjoy musicals? If so, what’s your favorite?

big musical fan!! tho tbh a lot of traditional broadway musicals just don't vibe with me so i kind of have a love/hate relationship with musical theatre (also bc i was in theater for years and i have some great memories but also a lot of horror stories lmao

for my favorite musical, i gotta say "spies are forever." this show is so fucking good and it deserves better than just kind of being an afterthought of the starkid fandom!! it's a musical satire of the cold war spy genre, but it doesn't just stay to surface-level comedic parody. the characters are all really well developed, and the plot deals with topics of ptsd, toxic masculinity, and queerness in a realistic manner for the time period while also being very progressive. all the songs fucking slap, the comedy is still hilarious every time i rewatch it, and there's a very effective plot twist that's foreshadowed throughout.

tbh it's very underrated bc it's made by a lot of the same people who are involved with starkid productions but it's actually under a different production company and there's some very notable differences in tone. starkid people typically group it together with the rest of that company's output while also ignoring it bc of these tonal differences, but also the greater theater community ignores it because they assume it's just an unserious indie parody.

spies are forever is available in full on youtube for free (it's split up into separate videos by scene but if you want to watch the full thing with no interruptions i highly recommend purchasing the dvd or digital download bc then you get outtakes and rehearsal videos). i heard a little while ago that they're thinking of remaking it and attempting to stage it as an official off-broadway show, maybe transitioning to broadway if all goes well, but i haven't heard anything in a bit so i'm not sure if that's still the plan.

i literally had a dream i was seeing a new production of this show last night so that's why i'm very into talking about it lmao

anyway here's a video of one of the best songs from the show. highly recommend checking it out

youtube

and!!! if you don't care about spoilers/have already seen it and you want to see a video essay discussing in detail the implications of the musical's queer representation in the historical context given, i recommend checking this video essay out as well:

youtube

and one last thing if you're interested in supporting another indie musical that satirizes a popular genre while developing emotionally complex characters that discusses mental health and queer identity, consider checking out my original musical "other girls":

youtube

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mysmestranscripts · 11 months

Text

ZEN After End

[Background: Jumin’s penthouse]

[Music: None]

Jumin: Bangladesh, Philipines... Not there.

Jumin: All the countries that are left... are small islands.

Jaehee: Where in the world do you think V is?

Jaehee: If you couldn't find him with all your connections, I think we should stop searching.

[Music: Mystic Chat]

TV: A! Celebrity News has the scoop. Echo Girl has been cast as the lead in the new period series "Moon and Stars". We've got the scoop at the scene.

Echo Girl: I have to thank the CEO of my management company for giving me such a good role. I just wanted to prove that young singers like me know how to act with this role.

Echo Girl: Famous singers like me have to pave a new path for the industry to improve you know.

Jaehee: You've had that TV for a long time.

Jumin: Nothing bad will come out of saving. I only watch it about twice a year. I don't feel the need to upgrade.

TV: The soundtrack album has been doing well at the charts too. An interesting fact about this new series! The rising star Zen has also been cast!

TV: Zen was involved in a sexual harassment scandal with Echo Girl two years ago, but his sincere press conference put him under a positive spotlight.

TV: We, here at A! News, gathered up our courage to request an interview with Echo Girl concerning this incident.

Echo Girl: What? Why are you asking me that? It's way in the past now and the misunderstanding was resolved. I hope to meet him in the professional world soon. No more comment.

Jaehee: That scandal is now an embarrassment in her career. Weren't you quite mischievous to cast them in the same series?

Jumin: I didn't give that order. If I had, Zen would be the lead and she'd have a supporting role.

Zen: Oh~ Is that what Kyungju said..? I-I mean, Echo Girl. Anyways, I just like to think that she was young and emotional back then and made a mistake. Anyways, the past isn't important for our acting.

Zen: Mr. Producer, please cut out that part about me calling her Kyungju. She hates it when people say her real name. I mean, I think the name's fine! Hahaha.

Jaehee: Her real name wasn't edited out I see.

[Music stops]

Jumin: That, I ordered.

Jaehee: ...

[Background: Black screen]

Staff: Take five everyone!

Echo Girl: The outtakes are all because of everyone else! Manager! Bring me some water!

Echo Girl: It's so hot here.

[Background: Zen After End 1]

[Music: Narcissistic Jazz]

Zen: I'm sorry I had to make you wait, sweetie!

Zen: …You waited long, right? Kyungju kept making mistakes so we couldn't get a good take.

Zen: I'm sure it must be hard following me around location shoots. Isn't it hard being on set? You can rest at the hotel… I mean, of course it really helps me that you're here.

Zen: Yeah! I love it! I'm so happy to see you watching me. I want you to be my manager forever.

Zen: I get to see you at home and at work… I can never get sick of my cutie pie's face…

Zen: But… why are you wearing such a low-cut top? What if the other crew members see you? We have a lot of young guys here.

Zen: It's okay when you're with me… but it bothers me. What if one of those guys stares at you while I'm focusing on my scene? You're mine…!

Zen: Ugh, alright… I won’t be so sensitive outside. But… let me make sure when we get home, that you’re mine.

Zen: Of course I’m yours. Thinking about possessing each other, it reminds me of the show I did before. Remember “Emperor’s Game”? The line went like this.

[Music: Lonely but Passionate Way]

Zen: From now on to the end of my life, you are mine and I am yours. While the sun rises from the East and sets in the West, you are my sun, my moon, and my stars.

Zen: Saying it in front of you really makes me feel it, MC…

Zen: I’m so grateful that we can be together like this. Don’t start blushing. You are always a blessing and my source of happiness… I want you to be proud of that.

Zen: Every morning when I see you asleep in bed, I tell myself that I will love you and always be true to you. Isn’t that pretty amazing?

Zen: No, what? I'm not practicing my lines.

Zen: I mean all of that. MC... When I see you fall asleep beside me every night... I think about our past, present and future...

Zen: Because we are each other's mirrors and our paths.

Zen: …I'm making you cringe? Sweetie, I guess you don't know what's really cringeworthy. I don't want to stop expressing my love. Look into my eyes.

Zen: MC, you are my life and my traces. Sometimes, we fight over small things, but our hearts are connected, so I'll start to understand everything you went through in your life when I wasn't there.

Zen: Because now, basically you are my life.

Zen: You are my sun, my moon, and my stars… No matter how far apart we are, we'll always think of each other…

Zen: Hahaha… Good job listening to all this, cutie.

[Background: Zen After End 2]

Zen: Even when the sun rises from the West and sets in the East, my heart will never change. My MC, I love you forever.

#Zen Route #Zen After End #Zen #Hyun Ryu #After Ends #Casual Story #Original Story

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kamelopardaleis · 1 year

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Outtakes 4

Viktor and Yuuri had much more unnecessary bickering in earlier drafts of this little YOI age reversal fic...

Leave a night-owl alone

(from Chapter 2, the argument about Yuuri overworking with three jobs)

Yuuri’s sass makes an inconvenient appearance when Viktor tries, yet again, to protest against his workaholism, “Viktor 4-am Nikiforov says I am workaholic! Wow! Amazing!”

Viktor ignores the jab at his limited vocab, “And how are you still out at 4 am?”

“Leave a night owl alone. Hoot hoot —”

“So you can die from not sleeping?!”

“Viktor, I can take care of myself, okay?”

“No, you don't.”

“Yes I —”

The conversation is so stupid even Viktor is annoyed. “I just don’t see why you can’t say no to this some-mamamia-san. It’s not like you even need her money!”

“Takayama-san is counting on me for the dance competition in —”

“Ask her to go find someone else —”

“You don’t understand. Her father — ”

“--- is such a good friend he did you a tiny favour some fifty years ago and now expects you to make his daughter twenty special routines on top of giving her private lessons since forever?!” Viktor snapped.

“Makoto-senpai is a good friend,” bless Yuuri to become exasperated on this friend ’s behalf, “and he isn’t making me do anything I don’t want to like you are so politely implying — ”

Yuri * 2

(from Chapter 5 when Yuri distributed new year pirozhki)

“Yuuuuri, I think your Russian namesake might have a teeny-tiny baby crush on you.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got katsudon pirozhki.”

Katsuki Yuuri is an angel

(from the start of Chapter 3, after Viktor makes Yuuri his coach without asking and causes a mini chaos at Yutopia, Yuuri eventually turns around. Viktor wants to hug this wonderful man.)

“I don’t take surprises very well, and I really, really mean it that you should not fling something like that at me again. And I really cannot coach you. But – I will try to help you as much as I can, Viktor. If you need me – need us. You can ask.”

If Viktor isn’t so preoccupied with the explosion of a million emotions in his chest right now, he will notice that as soon as Yuuri finishes his mini-speech, his natural aversion to 99% human beings has started to take over again. But of course Viktor’s next outburst doesn’t help the situation at all, because he declares in amazement to the entire hall of Yu-topia that “KATSUKI YUURI YOU ARE AN ANGEL—”

Since the angel in question has promptly flown down the hall, the outstretched arms of Viktor are now in great need of another warm body. Akari, the poor poodle so starved of affection for the past few days, happily supplies his service instead, to the satisfaction of both parties.

#yuri on ice #age reversal au #role reversal au #outtakes

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an-aura-about-you · 2 years

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some misery before midwinter, 1997

The Sun Always Shines on TV

Somewhere Else Under the King

In today's entry, Frank witnesses the slow breakdown of BBC correspondent Simone Taylor after her time at DeFoe Manor:

Frank blinks, their eyes full of fuzz mirroring the TV static snow. The tape ended some time ago, but their limbs are so heavy on the couch. Their notes sit next to them, going untouched for the last couple of tape switches. They will need to comb through again to actually take some notes for the purposes of keeping track of what they’re going to write. What they want to keep consistent, what they want to keep inconsistent, what they want to pull from reality, what they want to fabricate wholesale. But right now it’s so raw.

“You’re still up, Frank?”

They whip around at the sound and blow a sigh of relief when they see Jessica. “Ah, yes?” they reply, voice a bit raspy. “Guess I lost track of time there.”

Jess frowns and asks, “Doing what, exactly?”

Frank picks up their notes. “Making up bullshit about DeFoe Manor and cross-checking it with what the BBC recorded Simone Taylor saying about it.” They sort them so the newest notes are on the bottom and straighten up the stack. “Or that was the plan.”

The plan made sense, no different from Frank putting together a paper in school or uni. Go over some materials, write up some notes, spackle with a bit of bullshit, and crash for the weekend once they’ve turned it in. Only this time the reward for their efforts is a bit more tangible than a grade: produce enough “usable” documentary type material to get that dick of an unsolved crime enthusiast who basically asked Lydia to psychically relive AJ’s grisly death and pestered Jim and Trilby for similar accounts to shut the fuck up forever. So with Lyd off to see her family, Frank took up the task. Supplement what little they actually know with some tapes of Simone’s account, maybe watch some slasher movies with Jess for some inspiration, done and done.

What happened instead was Frank watching video after video of Simone Taylor slowly breaking under the weight of living through the nightmare herself.

Simone looked straight ahead, set in her determination. “My story may be hard to believe, and at times it may be difficult to hear some of the events I’m about to describe, but it is my duty to tell you the truth of what happened at DeFoe Manor. Past and present.”

“You’re not listening!” Simone shouts. “None of you are listening to me about this! I know it sounds lunatic! I know I don’t have any evidence! But I know what I saw! I know what Jim and Trilby saw! I know that it’s the same thing that spurred the long list of murder-suicides tied to DeFoe Manor! And I know it’s still out there!”

The worst one had no words at all. It was some outtake that hadn’t been recorded over in which she had been asked to return to Buckinghamshire to investigate. She wailed such a loud, broken, angry cry, a ferocity born of the resignation that this is the fight she had been given to fight. The fight she didn’t want to fight anymore.

It was after this the drinking started.

Simone’s eyes were glassy and dull. Her words were quiet, monotone, and just slightly slurred. Before everyone knew what they know now, the assumption would have been a sleepless night, and who could blame her? She may have survived, but she was still a victim. She wasn’t bad yet. She was focused as best she could be, still doing her job. She wasn’t bad yet. She wasn’t as bad as she was going to get.

The last video of Simone before the video announcing her death was her last night working. There was a moment so long and so still Frank had to double-check that they hadn’t accidentally paused the tape. By this point it was obvious she was drinking to get through the day, but this wasn’t just that. There was still a thread of awareness, that knowledge that John DeFoe was out there, something all the alcohol in the world couldn’t smother. Her eyes had a hint of their old brightness, though Frank couldn’t tell if that was that awareness or unshed tears. But they felt something all the way down to the marrow of their bones in that moment.

Simone Taylor knew she was going to die, either by John DeFoe’s hand or her own.

Jess leans against the back of the couch. “Should probably leave those all-nighters back in our uni days where they belong.”

“What time is it?” Frank asks, trying to stifle a yawn.

“Um, 1:57,” Jess answers as she checks the clock.

Frank leans their head back to look up at her. “What’re you still doing up?”

“Was chatting with a friend in a different timezone. I can afford to since I’m closing tomorrow.” She affectionately ruffles their hair before planting a kiss on their cheek. “Hey, I know it’s like 2 in the morning, but when’s the last time you ate? Want me to fix you something?”

“Pancakes?” Frank requests.

Jess huffs fondly. “Why do you always ask me to make pancakes?”

“Because it’s the one thing I always screw up somehow.”

“Oh yeah, the Scrambled Pancake Incident.” She toys with their hair a little. “How you manage to make culinary marvels at the cafe but mess up pancakes is still a mystery to me. But all right, pancakes it is. Think we’ve got some sausage and hashbrowns, too.”

“Love you, Jess,” Frank responds to that.

“Remember that when you see the dishes later.”

“A small price to pay.”

Jess leans down further and picks up the remote, turning the TV off. That done, she lets the remote fall from her hand and back on the couch cushion. “Need a hand up?”

“Nah, I think I’m good,” Frank answers, putting a hand on the arm and pushing themself up with a quiet ‘oof!’

Jess giggles at them, though soft and sweet in nature. “Already turning into an oldbie?”

Frank scoffs and gently shoves at her. “We’re the same age.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” she jokes, heading to the kitchen and rolling up her sleeves.

They follow along and sit at the kitchen table, letting themself just watch Jess cook. They wish Lydia could be here, too, in every way a person could be here. After a moment’s quiet, they go, “Hey Jess…”

Jess hums an affirmative as she heats up a couple of pans.

“Let’s go see Lyd and her family. Or at least go pick her up when she’s ready to come home.”

Jess turns to them. “I mean, that sounds nice, but we’ve got work. Did Lyd even say when she’s coming back?”

“No,” Frank answers. “But we can be there for her when she’s ready. We should be there for her, if we can. The cafe can survive without us for a couple of days. We live off of smuggled leftovers from work and ramen for a week and in exchange we get some extra time with Lydia.”

There’s a sizzle as Jess gets the hashbrowns and sausage on. “Well, the kitchen is pretty stocked. We might not even have to worry about that, just stretch what we have a little. And we’ve got some eggs we can put in the ramen.”

“When’s the last time we even had a day off, Jess?” Frank asks “We can manage to take some time off to take care of a loved one, right?”

Jess smiles at them and goes, “I thought you had to write documentary, not a persuasive paper. But you present a good argument.” She dollops some pancake batter in the other pan. “All right. We’ll call Lyd and let work know tomorrow?”

“It is tomorrow.”

“When people are actually awake.”

“Fine,” Frank relents. “Now don’t scramble those pancakes.”

“That means you’re not allowed in the kitchen for the duration of breakfast prep,” Jess says. “So stay put!”

“Yes ma’am,” Frank sighs in fond faux-exasperation.

#chzo mythos #aura's fanfiction #on this day in aura's tma/chzo mythos fanfiction

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bananaofswifts · 3 years

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Taylor Swift Turns on a Facsimile Machine for the Ingenious Recreations of ‘Fearless (Taylor’s Version)’: Album Review

Swift recreates her entire 2008 album literally down to the last note, then gives herself room for stylistic latitude on six never-before-recorded "vault" tracks.

By Chris Willman

Swift recreates her entire 2008 album literally down to the last note, then gives herself room for stylistic latitude on six never-before-recorded "vault" tracks.

There is no “best actress” award at the Grammys, perhaps for obvious reasons, but maybe there should be this coming year. And the Grammy would go to… Taylor Swift, for so persuasively playing her 18-year-old self in “Fearless (Taylor’s Version),” her beyond-meticulous recreation of the 2008 recording that did win her her first album of the year trophy back in the day. It’s impossible to overstate just how thoroughly the new version is intended as an exact replica of the old — all the way down to her startling ability to recapture an untrained teen singing voice she’s long matured and moved on from. It’s a stunt, to be sure, but a stunt for the ages — mastering the guile it takes to go back to sounding this guileless.

There are two different, very solid reasons to pick up or stream “Taylor’s Version,” regardless of whether you share her ire for the Big Machine label, whose loose ways with her nine-figure catalog precipitated this, the first in a six-album series of remakes where she’ll be turning on the facsimile machine. One is to marvel at her gift for self-mimicry on the album’s original tracks, where she sounds as possessed by her younger self as Regan ever was by Pazuzu. The other reason is, of course, to check out the six “vault” numbers that Swift wrote during that time frame but has never released before in any form, which dispenses with stylistic fealty to the late 2000s and frames her “Fearless”-era discards in production and arrangements closer to “Folklore.” Those half-dozen (kind of) new tracks really do sound like modern Taylor Swift covering her old stuff.

But those original lucky 13? It’s the same damn record… which is kind of hilarious and marvelous and the kind of meta-ness that will inspire a thousand more think-pieces than it already has, along with possibly efforts at forensic analysis to figure out how she did it.

It would not be surprising if, as we speak, Big Machine was putting a combined team of scientists and lawyers on the case of the new album’s waveform readouts, to make sure it’s not just the original album, remixed. Honestly, it’s that close. The timings of the songs are all within a few seconds of the original tracks, if not coming in at exactly the same length. The duplication effort doesn’t allow any detours. If “Forever and Always” had a cold open then, it’s going to have a cold open now. If the 2008 “That’s the Way I Love You” had slamming rock guitars with an almost subliminal banjo being plucked beneath the racket, so will the 2021 “That’s the Way I Loved You.” A drum roll to end the old “Change”? A drum roll to end its body-snatcher doppelganger. And if she chuckled before the final chorus of “Hey Stephen” 13 years ago, so will that moment be cause for a delighted giggle now.

Of course, much analysis will be put into whether the new laugh is a more knowing-sounding laugh. And that will be part of the fun for a certain segment of audiophile Swifties who will go looking for the slightest change as evidence of something meaningful. When “Love Story (Taylor’s Version)” first came out weeks back to preview the album, there were reviews written that swore she’d subtly changed up her phrasing to put a contemporary spin on the song. And maybe they were right, but, having done a fair amount of A/B testing of the two versions of the album, I found myself feeling like I do when vinyl buffs insist there are significant sonic differences between the first stamper version of an LP and one that was pressed a year later. If you can spot those very, very, very modest tweaks, go for it.

But my suspicion is that if Swift has decided to turn a phrase a little differently here or there on this album, or done anything too differently aside from brighten the sound, she’s doing it more as an Easter egg, for the people who are on that kind of hunt, than anything really designed as reinterpretation. Because the last thing Swift wants most of her fans doing is A/B-ing the two versions, the way I did. The whole point is to have folks retire the OG “Fearless” from their Spotify playlists, right? The Swift faithful were already threatening to rain down damnation on anyone caught sneaking an audio peek at the old version after midnight. What she intended was to come up with a rendering so faithful that you would never have a need to spin the vintage album again. In that, she has succeeded beyond what could have been imagined even in the dreams of the few self-forgers who’ve tried this before, like a Jeff Lynne.

Is there any reason to find value in the new versions if you couldn’t care less about the issues of masters and contracts and respect in business deals that made all this strangely possible? Yes, with the first one being that the new album just sounds like a terrific remastering of the old — the same notes, and you’d swear the same performances, but sounding brighter and punchier just on a surface level. But on a more philosophical one, it’s not just a case of Swift playing with her back catalog like Andy Warhol played with his soup can. It’s really a triumph of self-knowledge and self-awareness, in the way that Swift is so hyper-conscious of the ways she’s matured that she has the ability to un-mature before our very ears. With her vocals, it’s virtuosic, in a way, how she’s made herself return to her unvirtuosic upstart self.

On Swift’s earliest albums and in those seminal live shows — at the time when she was famously being told she “can’t sing,” to quote a song from the follow-up album — there was a slight shrillness around the edges of her voice that, if you lacked faith, you might’ve imaged would be there forever. It wasn’t. That was partly youth, and partly just the sheer earnestness with which she wanted to convey the honesty of the songs. She’s advanced so much since then — into one of pop’s most gifted modern singers, really — that the woman of “Folklore” and “Evermore” seems like a completely different human being than the one who made the self-titled debut and “Fearless,” never mind just a woman versus girl. It wouldn’t have seemed possible that she could go back to her old way of singing at the accomplished age of 31, but she found and recreated that nervous, sincere, pleading voice of yesteryear. And maybe it was just a technical feat, of temporarily unlearning what she’s learned since then, but you can sense that maybe she had to go there internally, too, to the place where she was counseling other girls to guard their sexual virtue in “Fifteen,” or wondering whether to believe the fairy tale of “Love Story” or the wakeup call of “White Horse,” or proving with “Forever & Always” that writing a song telling off Joe Jonas for his 27-second breakup call was better than revenge.

If at first you’re not inclined to notice that Swift has re-adopted a completely different singing voice for the “Fearless” remakes, the realization may kick in when those “vault” tracks start appearing in the later stretch of this hour-and-50-minute album. The writing on the six songs that have been pulled up from the 2008 cutting room floor seems primitive, even a little bit by the standards of the “Fearless” album; there are great lines and couplets throughout the rescued tracks, but you can see why she left them as works-in-progress. But she doesn’t use her youthful voice on these resurrections, nor does she employ the actual style of “Fearless” very strictly. Of course, she feels more freedom on these, because there are no predecessors in the Big Machine catalog she’s asking you to leave behind. Her current collaborators of choice, Jack Antonoff and Aaron Dessner, divided the co-producing work on these fresher songs, as they did for the two all-new albums she released in the last year. (The “Fearless” recreations are co-produced by Swift with Christopher Rowe, someone who worked on remixes for Swift back in that era.) They co-produce the vault songs in a style that sounds somewhere between “Fearless” and Folklore”… a more spectral brand of country-pop, with flutes and synths and ringing 12-string guitars and a modicum of drum programming replacing some (but not all) of the acoustic stringed instruments you’d expect to be carried over from “Fearless” proper.

Of the previously unheard tracks, Swift was right — she’s always been her own best self-editor — in putting out “You All Over Me” first, in advance of the album. With its imagery of half-muddy stones being upturned on the road, this song has advanced lyrical conceits more of a piece with the level of writing she’s doing now than some of the slightly less precocious songs that follow. Still, there’s something to be said for the sheer zippiness with which Swift conveys teen heartbreak in “Mr. Perfectly Fine,” which has a lyric that shows Swift had long since absorbed the lessons Nashville had to offer about how to come up with a high-concept song — the concept, in this case, being just to stick the word “mister” in front of a lot of phrases relating to her shallow ex, as if they were honorary titles to be conferred for being a shit, while she employs the “miss” for herself more sparingly.

Some of the remaining outtake songs go back more toward the sedate side of “Fearless”-style material; she didn’t leave any real bangers in the can. “We Were Happy,” the first of two successive tracks to bring in Keith Urban (but only for backgrounds on this one), employs fake strings and real cello as Swift waxes nostalgic for a time when “you threw your arms around my neck, back when I deserved it.” It’s funny, in a good way, to hear Swift at 31 recreating a song she wrote at 17 or 18 that pined for long-past better times. The next song, “That’s When,” brings Urban in for a proper duet where he gets a whole second verse and featured status on half a chorus, and it’s lovely to hear them together. But, as a make-up song, it doesn’t feel as real or lived-in as the more personal things she was writing at the time — and the fact that its chords are pretty close to a slightly more balladic version of the superior “You Belong With Me” was probably a pretty good reason for dropping it at the time.

the 18-year-old Taylor Swift is a great place to visit, but “Folklore” and “Evermore” are the place you’ll want to return to and live, unless you have an especially strong sentimental attachment to “Fearless”… which, sure, half of young America does. It’s not irreconcilable to say that the two albums she issued in the last year represent a daring pinnacle of her career, but that “Fearless” deserved to win album of the year in 2008. Has there been a greater pop single in the 20th century than “You Belong With Me”? Probably not. Did the album also have lesser moments you probably haven’t thought about in a while, like the just-okay “Breathe”? Yes. (I looked up to see whether Swift had ever played that little remarked upon number in concert, and according to setlists.fm, she did, exactly once… in 2018. Because she’s Taylor Swift, and of course she did.) It’s not certain that her duet with Colbie Caillat really needed to be resurrected, except it’s fun, because hey, she even roped former duet partners back into her time warp. But there are so many number that have stood the test of time, like “The Way I Love You,” an early song that really got at the complicated feelings about passion and fidelity that she would come to explore more as she grew into her 20s… and just kind of a headbanger, too, on an album that does love its fiddles and mandolins.

It doesn’t take much to wonder why Swift put up “Fearless” first in this six-album exercise; it’s one of her two biggest albums, along with “1989,” and it’s 13 years old, which does mean something superstitious in the Taylor-verse. In a way, it’ll be more interesting to see what happens when she gets to more complicated productions, like “1989” or “Reputation.” But maybe “Fearless” did present the opportunity for the grandest experiment out of the gate: to recreate something that pure and heartfelt, with all the meticulousness a studio master like Swift can put to that process now, without having it seem like she’s faking sincerity. Let the think-pieces proceed — because this is about six hundred different shades of meta. But, all craftiness and calculation aside, there’s a sweetness to the regression that’s not inconsequential. It harks back to a time when she only wondered if she could be fearless, before she learned it the harder way for sure. What they say about actors “disappearing into the role”? That really applies to Taylor Swift, playing herself.

#taylor swift #fearless #review

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galvanizedfriend · 2 years

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hi i absolutely love “the wolf series” and was curious if you have plans to continue to do the rest of the seasons or not? ur very talented !!

Hi, nonnie! This is so nice. ❤️ The Wolf is my baby and it makes me so happy that people are still reading that these days. ❤️ Thank you so, so much! ✨

I have no plans to continue it tho. :( I have my headcanons, but while they're very long because clearly i don't know what a headcanon is, they're not fic-like, exactly.

A while ago I was contemplating the idea of posting all the outtakes and extras i have and maybe some scenes from my headcanons, but work happened and i never really gave it a proper thought, so we'll have to wait and see how i feel about this when this month is over. I might do a poll or something. 😂 Or I don't know, people can just let me know if they feel like it.

Also, taking the opportunity here to say that if I take forever to get back to messages and such, it's not because I'm ghosting everyone, I'm just swamped in work right now and don't think I can keep up with tumblr. 🥲 So hopefully y'all will still be here when i come up for air in March.

Thanks for this message, nonnie! That was so sweet! ❤️

#yokan answers #anon #i've been getting some comments on the wolf from new readers #and i saw a rec just last week #surreal that people are still finding that story now #makes me so so so happy

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baggybutclassy · 3 years

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AALIYAH’S IMPACT ON ME THRU THE YEARS

Disclaimer: This is 100% my events and outtakes on MY memory growing up with the late Aaliyah Haughton. Although I have no shame, I will not be displaying my age on my timeline (but if you know, ya know)

STILL EDITING...✍🏼✍🏼✍🏼

Aaliyah album ONE IN A MILLION was released 5 days ago and when I tell you I was LIVID (in a good way). I was dancing around the house for Gawd knows how long. Now, I was still listening to her albums on YouTube but just knowing it's finally release was like--like being able to cross that finish line to a never ending marathon race

AND HERE THE FUCK WE ARE

I decided to make a little timeline on my whereabouts and memories during THE AGE OF LIYAH

1995-1999

['95-'96]-is when I first heard of Aaliyah, her video BACK & FORTH would come on TV and I was drawn. Sure I've seen videos of other artists who dressed like her, but she was just...smooth and dainty. Later on, BAM! She had ONE IN A MILLION, IF YOUR GIRL ONLY KNEW, 4 PAGE LETTER, HOT LIKE FIRE. She was performing on ALL THAT, SOUL TRAIN, EVERYWHERE! You couldn't escape her, not like I ever wanted to. She was that cool teen I wanted to grow up to be like

['97-99]- I was a chunky kid around this time, going school shopping with my two sisters. It was always a struggle finding me something, they always stirred me away from the girl section over to the boys and it killed my spirit.

I just wanted to be...pretty and cute but I wanted to be, HER

I remember crying being a brat while my older sister was trying to convince me I would be just as cute in some Tommy H overalls. My middle sister wasn't having it because she hated my whining but my older sister was patient and knew exactly why I was the way I was. She told me

"You wanna look like Aaliyah and this is what she wore" she smiled "And look it goes with these cute yellow TH shoes as well".

My sister knew I was big and she hated that I knew, and she used my love for Aaliyah to reason with me. She was right, because everybody was complimenting me more on my TH gear than my actual weight.

Now we laugh about it because baby I was draped in Tommy H most of my youth and my dumb ass whined

EARLY 2000s

['01-02]- 2001 and I remember EVERY DAMN THANG (emotions and all). I was getting off the bus from school rushing home. I came in the house but for some reason, everybody was gather in my middle sisters room. They were watching the news and all I seen was a plane that had crushed and smoke surrendering it. I looked at the bottom and it read SINGER AALIYAH KILLED IN A PLANE CRASH. When I tell you my heart fell to my ass.

You'd think your superheroes live forever, but reality straighten me out real good. Never had I'd imagined that someone like AALIYAH would die so soon....and so young; it scared me because Death taught me that it came for anybody at any age.

Back at school, clear folders where a thing, and my mom printed some pictures of Aaliyah at her job so I could have her on my binder where ever I went. Her tribute magazine came out eventually and I'd hang the sideways poster on my wall rocking the light brown beige bikini top with some leather brown pants as she was leaning on a white loveseat

Aaliyah self titled album dropped (which my sister owned, and I stole) she only like Rock The Boat but I damned near like every song off the album

It was at my grandmother’s house we seen ACCESSED GRANTED and the World Premiere of her video for ROCK THE BOAT. After that, they wouldn't stop playing it, she stood at #1 on 106& Park for a good minute, I believe they had to retire it because was everybody kept voting to keep it on. I was still a little chunk chunk and I would do the part where she sung Rock The Boat and was on her tip toes popping her hips, guess my older cousins found it hilarious because they kept asking me to do it over and over. Petty Bitches but ya girl lost that weight...can’t say the same for the other

I went as Aaliyah on Halloween that following year. With the help of my sis, I rocked a navy blue bandanna, a bedazzled guess navy blue shirt and a pair of black sunglasses to match. I wish I could find that photo

['02]

My older sister surprised me with tickets to go see QUEEN OF THE DAMNED and I was so excited, it would be the last time I'd see her. We were rolling in her white Pontiac GM listening Brandy’s Full Moon album and I was pumped. That movie was kinda like a farewell to my favorite artist and role model as I would not think of her as heavy as I did as a kid. The movie at the time gave me a dark grungy yet sexy aesthetic to Aaliyah, I never seen her in that light and playing the antagonist at that? Whoa was all I could say. The movie ended with a dedication to her and I knew she was gone

At this time I was close to my baby cousin (practically sisters) and one memory I had was when she purchased the I CARE 4 YOU album and she also had the Japanese cd that played all her videos as well, and I can recall us studying the ARE YOU THAT SOMEBODY choreo to a T. We were having the time of our lives laughing and falling on our ass. I really miss those times; it showed that as kids we could make our own fun and how we really enjoyed life, and that was something you did have to post

MID 2000S

['15]- is when the petition of Aaliyah to have a Mac line began and as long as it had babygirl name on it...I'd sign it. I believe this was the beginning of Aaliyah slowly coming back into the limelight ['18]- This year gave us some a bit of hope, MAC announced that we could preorder AALIYAH's MAC line. I didn't know shit about putting on Make-Up but I wanted to partake in this special moment. I remember sitting in my jeep ready for that clock to strike 11 and I got to pushing buttons lol. When I got my confirmation number for the Lip Gloss and Lip Liner, I felt like I had made history. ['19]- We were now on a roll, not only did we get the MAC line off the ground but I was hearing that Aaliyah was getting a Wax figure done in Madame Tussauds Las Vegas baby! It seems as though the family was coming around and more welcoming with their precious Gem [21]- AND HERE WE ARE! I really didn't speak much on Aaliyah's music not being released because as I stated previously, her albums were YouTube but I do understand the frustration of wanting to listen to her without the interruptions but yeaaahhh Aaliyah played a huge role in my life, she was one of the first idols I adored, and she was like a big sister to me. Me dealing with Identity Crisis, I gravitated more towards Liyah because she was so ALLURING and how people just wanted to be around her. She’ll always be a part of me, thank you Aaliyah for grooming me into the woman I am today and furthermore in the future

#aaliyah #aaliyah haughton #black tumblr #writing #90s #black writer #stories #ranting #one in a million #babygirl

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let-it-show · 3 years

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Bless This Happiness We Found

I wanted to write a little something for Anna’s birthday! Simple questions bring about her thoughts and well, just something nice. I didn’t really edit it because I’m very tired, and didn’t want to be much later with it. Title is from the lyrics out the outtake song “Home”! Can easily be read as Snow Sisters or Elsanna :) --- "What do you want for your birthday?" Anna opened her mouth to answer, but as soon as she did so, she found she had no answer. "I-I don't know." "What? There must be something!" Olaf gave her a concerned look from his place on their red and white checkered picnic blanket. They'd decided to have lunch together on a beautiful summer day while Elsa took a meeting with a couple of farmers in town. Anna would have attended, and she even tried, but with her birthday the following day Elsa had told her she was to take the week off. Anna protested of course, and they almost fought about it. All she wanted to do was spend time with Elsa! Spending time with her sister was her favorite thing in the world! At the same time, it was easy for Elsa to convince her - she hugged Anna and kissed her freckled cheek, telling her just to trust her.

At first Anna had wondered if Elsa was planning some grand event, and she didn't know how she felt about that. She loved Elsa making a big deal of her birthday, she really did, but what would require a week off? If Elsa was planning a huge party, she didn't know that she was ready for whatever was coming.

However as the days went along, she found herself relaxing. She'd been so invested in being the second queen of Arendelle, so invested in leading, that she'd found...well, she lost parts of herself that came back as she relaxed. She felt them as she leaned back on the blanket, clad in the beautiful dress that Elsa had given her years prior during the first birthday in forever. Her hair hung free, resting on her back. "Nothing comes to mind Olaf," she finally answered. "I know I'll get some things, Elsa has given me a different dress every year and-and you know her, she spoils me! I know you and Kristoff have been whispering..." She smiled at him and he chuckled. "...Mattias carved me that duckling last year, and I saw him working at something the other day."

"Oh." Olaf leaned back as well and looked up at the blue sky above them. "I guess if you know you're getting so many gifts, it's greedy to ask for them! Elsa must feel that way since she gives away gifts on her birthday each year."

Anna stared up at the sky as well. When had she last spent lots of time outside the castle with Olaf, just staring at the sky? There were no clouds for them to find shapes in, but she didn't mind that. "Elsa just loves to make everyone around her so happy...so do I! But her birthday is during that time of year, so it makes a little more sense." Elsa had begun to let Anna join with her in planning the gift-giving each winter, and Anna loved it. She loved her sister so much.

"Elsa doesn't have to give gifts to make anyone happy. Neither of you do," Olaf commented. "I'm happy right now! We haven't done this in a while."

A grin broke out over Anna's face, her gaze still on the sky. "I'm happy too."

"Hoo hoo! Queen Anna, you look so happy!"

Anna paused on her walk through town, having spent time with Olaf until he dozed off. Actually, she stayed for a little while, until her foot fell asleep. She kissed the top of the little snowman's head before deciding to go on a very leisurely stroll, something she hadn't done in a while.

She was usually with Elsa, so she missed her, but it was still lovely - especially when a friendly face greeted her. "Oaken! Hi! How are you?" she asked, making her way over to his kiosk. She could never quite pin down how his business worked. Sometimes she wouldn't see him in town for a while and he'd be in his store where she'd met him years ago. Other times, he'd be peddling remedies for stress relief and offering massages to various Arendellians.

"Very well thank you! Tomorrow's your big day!" he said with a smile and a wave from his place behind his counter. On display he had flowers, sunhats, and bottles of...of mysteries. She wasn't sure.

Anna bounced closer though. She hadn't chatted with him in a while, not having proper time. "Yes, it is," she said with a laugh. "You always remember!"

"How could I forget your birthday?" he asked, and reached for what was a surprisingly huge pile of sunflower bouquets, pulling one wrapped in an orange ribbon. "Let me give you some flowers to start your day with!"

"Oh, thank you!" Anna squealed. She was never able to turn down sunflowers! She took them with a smile as she bounced on her heels, and then buried her face in them. Her love for sunflowers was almost an obsession, and she never put together quite why, other than being bright and sunny. They just made her so happy!

"You're so welcome! But I'm sure you have grander birthday wishes, ya? What have you asked for this year?" He placed his palms together and tapped his fingers against each other, an excited look on his face.

"I haven't asked for anything, I don't really know what I'd want!" Anna replied, her eyes closing as she remained in her flowers for another few seconds.

"Oh no? Nothing at all?"

"Nope!" she answered brightly.

"Oh!"

When Oaken failed to follow up with anything else, Anna opened her eyes. "Is...is that weird?" she asked, somewhat confused.

Oaken chuckled. "No, no. Well...yes. Usually people want something for their birthday! Even if it's not a material gift, they want something! Are you sure there's nothing you're looking for, Anna?"

Anna sighed. She really couldn't think of anything. She had a wonderful life in the castle, and was surrounded by everyone she loved. Most of all, she had Elsa! She couldn't wait to see her again that evening when she knew the meeting would be over. What was she supposed to ask for? "Not really...I know I'll get gifts tomorrow and I'll love whatever I receive, but I don't want anything in particular. As long as nothing bad happens, I'll be happy." That was the truth. She half wanted to say that she hoped for a day where no one wanted to follow mysterious voices and the earth stayed calm, but those would be strange things to say just for the sake of conversation.

Life had been fairly normal. There'd been no disruptions, just days of being a ruler of a kingdom, which could be tiring. Elsa handled it impressively.

Oaken watched her for a second, and then a light chuckle escaped him. "Well, then I'm very happy for you Queen Anna," he said simply, and Anna knew he meant it.

The time to see her sister was drawing closer and the sun was beginning to leave its place high in the blue sky. Anna had made some small talk as she walked, and eventually she found herself in front of the statue she'd had dedicated to their parents. She shifted her sunflowers in her arms as she looked up at them, chewing her lip. She couldn't really remember a truly happy birthday with them, which was somewhat sad. Sure, they celebrated it with her and gave her presents and dinner and there was a very minor celebration in the castle.

And every year, Elsa's door stayed closed without Anna understanding why.

"Good afternoon, Your Majesty! Or perhaps it's good evening by now."

Anna was taken from her thoughts by a familiar, smooth, calming voice. It was a voice she was always happy to hear, and she turned slowly to face Mattias as he approached. "Evening, I suppose. Hello Mattias!" she replied, not bothering to correct him - he knew it was more than okay for him to just call her by her name. He preferred to use her title though, and she respected that.

"How are you doing? Enjoying your week off?" he asked her, continuing forward and stopping beside her to look at the statue.

"Oh, yes, very much. It's been wonderful. It's strange not doing all my meetings and not being in the study but...well, it's also so good to...um..." She felt a little strange telling the hard-working man that it was nice to have less on her shoulders. Even if it was the truth, it seemed a bit awkward to say that to Mattias, dressed in his guard uniform, patrolling like he always did. Anna could tell it brought him a sort of peace.

He glanced at her, a hint of amusement in his face. "It's fine to say you're enjoying not working. From all I've learned about you, it seems being a Queen of Arendelle was never exactly in your plans."

"Oh!" she placed her hand lightly on her chest, laughing nervously. "Well no, it wasn't - I don't, I don't hate it! I don't even dislike it. I just miss some of my life before."

"Understandable," Mattias said with a little nod.

Anna took that as encouragement to continue. "I had responsibilities before! I helped around town and when Elsa would stop being so stubborn I would do what I could with her work. Then we had time to be with each other. That's kind of how it is now, except, I have to be a little more involved because of my title...we still have fun though! And I see her every day since she returned from the forest!"

Mattias glanced at her again, before turning to face her completely. "So despite the change, you're happy? Really happy?"

"I...yes, I am," Anna answered in a small voice. "Why do you ask?"

"Your birthday is tomorrow, correct?"

"...Yes?"

Mattias smiled, letting out the air of almost quiet laughter as he regarded her. "I know birthdays can be a time of reflection, of thinking about what we've accomplished in life. At least, I did that every year in the forest. Anyway, finding you out here looking at the statue of your parents drove me to ask."

Anna felt her shoulders relax - she hadn't even known she'd been tense. Mattias had such a way with his words, so able to calm her when she needed and providing a sense of comfort she hadn't felt from an older male figure in her life in years. Someday she'd have to show him just how much she appreciated him. "I see. Yes, I was thinking a little, mostly about my birthday and how happy I am to have everyone here. My birthdays used to be very lonely, but now..."

"Now?"

Anna shrugged a little. "Well now, things are better than I could have ever thought. I have Elsa, I have my family - that includes you - and I get to do good for my kingdom. I don't have to do it alone. It's a lot of work sometimes but...but then I have days like these, where I can walk around the town and everyone says hi to me. Everyone knows me and no doors are closed. I do what I can to help them, and they support me." She was very, very happy.

Mattias didn't answer right away. He kept smiling, and looked back to the statue. "So...what do you want for your birthday, Your Majesty?"

"Oh..." Anna laughed, she should have expected it. "I can't think of anything. I've tried several times today and just couldn't. There's nothing I could ask for."

"Nothing at all?" he asked, but he didn't sound disbelieving.

"Nothing at all," she responded quietly, looking up at the statue. She didn't follow it up with anything else, just regarding her honored past, though in a way it felt like she was looking at two strangers. In that moment it didn't bother her. She wasn't feeling alone.

When she finally approached the castle a little while later, Elsa was crossing the bridge to meet her. She was in her green dress that she'd made years ago - she had been wearing it all week. Magic dresses rarely had to be laundered, it appeared.

"Anna!" Elsa threw out her arms as she greeted Anna with a huge smile. It was like they hadn't seen each other in months when it had been just hours. Elsa hugged her with such intensity too and she always did that.

It was a hug that let Anna know she'd never be pushed away again, and she melted into it as her bouquet dropped the short distance to the ground. She returned the embrace eagerly. "Oh Elsa! I missed you!"

"I missed you too. The meeting lasted forever...have you had a nice day?" Elsa asked, still squeezing.

"It's been a lovely day. But you know, I wish you'd been at my side," Anna told her quietly.

Elsa finally released her, only to run her palms down Anna's arms to take her hands, holding them down between them. "I would have liked that too. Tomorrow I will be, my schedule is cleared just for you. We can do anything you want. What would you like to do for your birthday?"

It was that question again, though framed differently. Her answer was still the same. "I don't know. Nothing in particular."

"Nothing...? Surely there's something that would make you happy?" Elsa asked, tilting her head a little, the tiny snow diamonds in her hair sparkling despite the setting of the sun.

Anna almost laughed because of how-how dear Elsa looked in the moment, so ready for an answer, so ready to please. How could she ask for more than that? Standing on the bridge, hands joined, while Elsa's gaze met her own - after a day of seeing friends and knowing she was somewhere that so thoroughly loved her.

She squeezed Elsa's hands and leaned forward until their foreheads touched, her sister face so close to her own. "I am happy, Elsa." She watched the beautiful smile that spread across Elsa's features, something she always loved to see. Yes, she was sure of what she was saying. "I am very, very happy."

#Frozen 2 #Frozen Fever #fanfic #Anna #Elsa #Olaf #Oaken #Mattias

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permanentcrossfics · 4 years

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Blurred Lines: Met Gala Rewind // h.s.

“How come?”

“How come what?”

“The carpet one,” he asked. “How come? What’s special about it?”

Lips ticking up, you squeezed his midsection. “It was sexy.” You twisted and found him staring at you with unwavering intensity. “You looked sexy.” A simple declaration, buttoned with a kiss just underneath his nipple, that he already knew — you knew he knew, because it wasn’t like you’d be naked in bed with him otherwise — but it crackled in the air between you. “You looked… like a man,” you breathed, “who knew what he wanted and that he didn’t have to try, you….”

Harry blinked quickly, gulping, and you giggled mischievously before biting your lip and curling up against him again. “Kind of wish I’d been there. Could’ve taken full advantage.”

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“Can you believe…?”

You rolled over, propping yourself on your elbows, and Harry peered at you, one eye open and one eye shut, squinting into the sun streaming through the window behind you. The arm of his that hadn’t just slipped from your shoulders was thrown over his head and his fingers played through his own hair, combing and pulling the curls that were too long by now. Too long because it’d been seven weeks since you’d been holed away together. Seven weeks? Eight? It was hard to count anymore.

“Can you believe you were here for the Met Gala a year ago?”

He shook his head. “No quite a year.”

“Not yet,” you said. “Next week, though? Right?”

One corner of his mouth lifted with a chuckle and he nodded. “Feels like….” It felt like forever ago — all that’s happened in a year, all that’d changed. You stretched out beside him, landing a warm kiss to warmer skin before curling up, and his arm returned to your shoulders to pin you to his side. Smirking, you wriggled against him to relieve the ache in your breasts from where they were pressed into his ribs.

“Which outfit was your favorite?”

“Of mine?”

You nodded. He was silent above you and you traced soft circles and figure eights on his belly until his hand slapped down on yours.

“They’re both… I mean, I don’t really know if I thought about it like that. They were different — different purposes, different… d’you know what I mean?”

You nodded again but didn’t say anything until he asked, “What about you? Did you have a favorite?”

“The one on the carpet.”

Harry barked a laugh but it sounded incomplete. You’d seen the photos — many of them, most despite your efforts to not look, because he’d been news. He’d never set foot at a Met Gala before, and when he did, he was a co-chair. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Mmm.”

“How come?”

“How come what?”

“The carpet one,” he asked. “How come? What’s special about it?”

Harry blinked quickly, gulping, and you giggled mischievously before biting your lip and curling up against him again. “Kind of wish I’d been there. Could’ve taken full advantage.”

“Y’didn’t tell me,” he rasped. “If I’d known—“

You snorted. “Anna Wintour wasn’t going to let me in. Besides, we weren’t there yet.”

“I’d have asked,” he insisted. “Figured out some explanation, gotten you in… Alessandro would’ve loved t’dress you….” He trailed off and you could hear the daydreams of the different hints he’d have tried to drop for his friend about what he’d like to see you in spinning through his head.

He wouldn’t have — couldn’t have — and you didn’t hold it against him. “We should watch all the highlights,” you teased. “To celebrate next week. Maybe see if the liquor store will deliver?”

They did, in fact, deliver, and it was the first package you were able to get from the door that week. A few different boxes had arrived over the course of the last seven days, and Harry had shooed you away each time, gloves on and wipes in hand to whisk them away to his office. You were just unpacking the delivery of champagne in the kitchen and scrolling through your phone, debating between tacos and pizza, when you heard him calling you.

“Darling?” Muffled, far, but unmistakable. “Would you come help me for… just for a moment?”

“Just a second,” you called back. “I need to….” You pumped soap onto your hands and turned the water on.

“Love?”

“Gimme a minute!” you called back, annoyance flaring up in you. When you’d finished rinsing and drying your hands, you left the kitchen, but once you found his office empty, you stopped. “Harry?”

“Bedroom, darling.”

Darling. Twice, and loftily. He must want something, and you were still smirking when you opened the door, but what you found made you stop short.

Different — he looked different. His hair was shaggier, though you could tell he’d made efforts to tame it, and his beard, for what it was, had grown in. No earring, because he’d given up on that ages ago after the start of a few infections (you’d warned him, but had he listened?), and his nails were clean because he didn’t have any colors, much less the right colors from that night. The rings were the same, as they mostly always were, and he twisted them, shifting from foot to foot with an almost nervous smile.

You almost laughed in shock. “Where did you— where did you get that?” you gasped in a rush.

He tilted his head. “Had it sent,” he said. “Thought y’might like to see it since you couldn’t be there an’ all…” Frozen, you gripped the doorknob, and he laughed quietly. “C’mon.” His rings clinked when his knuckles tapped together. “Cat got your tongue?” Harry lifted his chin. “Get a little closer, lover.”

Dangerous bait by any measure, but you held your breath as you approached. He was taller, and you realized belatedly that he was wearing shoes that lifted him a good few inches. That would be the smaller of the packages that had arrived, then. Up close, you saw what the photographs had shown and more. Every goosebump, every freckle, every tattoo was visible, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

You remembered that night — that weekend and the week that followed were burned into your brain, vividly, if for different reasons. He hadn’t told you he’d landed, which he nearly always did. It was up to you, googling the flight information he’d sent, and the paparazzi photos that had exploded the night of Anna Wintour’s dinner to let you know he’d arrived safely in one piece and was working. To say you’d been annoyed was putting it lightly — work was work and you couldn’t imagine how busy he was and the pressure that went with it, but when you were wringing your hands over whether he’d made it or not and he hadn’t texted you first for the first time in… ever, it stung. You’d been determined to hold out and hold firm until he came crawling and realized what he’d done, and you’d refused to be like the rest of the world and wait with bated breath for what he was going to wear.

It’d taken one photo — just one — for you to crack. You’d never have expected that, but it suited him and the event, and to top it all off the aura of smug cockiness that he’d all but radiated…. The better part of your night had been spent pacing your studio, trying not to look, failing, opening your chat with him, and closing out. Smolder seemed an appropriate word, and you could’ve slapped him for making you think of something so ridiculously harlequin.

“Does it look like the pictures?”

You inhaled sharply and glanced up at him. “What are you doing?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“Y’weren’t there.” Hands clasped, he squeezed them, knuckles whitening with each pulse. “Figured I’d bring it to you.”

“Mmm.” Tentatively, you trailed your fingers over his arm, watching the fabric ripple under your touch. It was soft — slippery when you pinched it, not at all like a cheap costume — and you followed the lines of his muscles and the trail of tattoos up his arm, over his collarbones, and down over his chest. He closed his eyes and went very still for a fraction of a second when you grazed his nipple before clearing his throat and shifting in place.

“Tryin’ t’make sure I’m real?” he rasped.

“Sorry,” you whispered, voice catching, and you dropped your hand. Opening his eyes, he tilted his head to catch yours. “What do you think?”

“About?”

Harry lifted your chin with his thumb and forefinger and you inhaled sharply.

“Am I still sexy?”

Your laugh was whispery, almost tremulous, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “Didn’t have a problem saying it the other day,” he teased. “Not so quick now that m’standing in front of you, are you?” His smirk widened. “C’mon, love. D’I have to take you over my knee t’get it outta you?”

Oh.

You clamped your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth, and the humorous glint in his eyes dimmed as he blinked.

“Did you… is that why y’like this one so much?” he asked. “Did you think about—?”

Maybe. Yes. You’d thought about a lot that night until the early hours of the morning when it became clear he wasn’t showing. His bow? Perfect for your wrists. The ruffles on his sleeves? Better than any feather, and the confidence to an almost arrogant degree… you’d never wanted to slap him more, and the worst part is he’d probably have loved for you to try. And the demeanor he seemed to take on wearing this….

Breath hitching, you gulped, and he licked his lips.

“You look good,” you whispered.

Harry jerked his head towards the bed and you bit your lip, stumbling when he pulled you by the wrist. He sat on the edge, fingers slipping into the waist of your shorts, and you gripped his shoulders over the soft, slippery fabric to steady yourself when he popped the button on your shorts open. Holding your gaze, he tugged your zipper, and he was still looking at you when he pulled them past your hips. “C’mon,” he murmured. “Y’know what to do.”

Kicking your shorts away, you turned and bent your wobbly knees to lean over his spread ones. His trousers felt expensive — you almost didn’t want to touch them, but when his full hand circled over your ass, you fisted the material in yours to brace yourself. His first slap made you jump, but you bit your lip and swallowed back the instinctual yelp. His palm had no sooner smoothed the sting than he’d landed his second, and the third had you pushing yourself up on his thigh before your elbow buckled.

“What’s wrong?” he rasped.

“N-nothing,” you shook your head. “Nothing, I promise….”

“Y’sure?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Yes, don’t stop.”

His next one was heavy and landed with a crack that made you shout wordlessly. “That’s m’girl.” The fourth took your breath from you and you dug your toes into the floor. “That’s my—” Five. You pressed your thighs together in an attempt to quell the ache, but all it did was make it worse. Already, you could feel how wet and sticky you were, and after the sixth with a whimper from you, Harry slid his hand between your thighs, thumb over your ass and fingers pushing against—

“Your cunt,” he groaned, pulsing and rubbing with a quiet, wonderous laugh. “Fuck, feel tha’... already soaked.” Mouth stretched wide, you gripped his knee with a choked noise when his finger caught your clit through the fabric. “Oh, s’this what I missed out on?”

As heavy as your breathing was, you could barely hear it over his, and you wriggled when he pulled your underwear down — just enough for him to tug it aside so two of his fingers could slide in. “Shit!” he laughed under his breath, curling his fingers and pushing so deep your vision blurred and you closed your eyes. “Oh, shit, look at—”

You squirmed and the hand that wasn’t inside you landed on your cheek with a quick, punishing sting.

“Oh, my God!” you wheezed, crying out sharply when he did it again while curling his fingers.

“Stay still!” he said, teeth rattling. “Stay—” eight— “still f’me, like a good….”

He was hard — you could feel him digging into you, and you knew by the slight shift in his feet and knees it was starting to drive him insane, but you knew he wouldn’t let you help even if you tried. Draped over him, all you could do was hold on, tears stinging your eyes as he pumped his fingers and spanked. Stop and go, stop and go — the longer it went on, you lost count, lost in the frustration that every time you thought you were about to reach bliss, he stopped short, fingers stilling and hand tapping your ass gently.

No!

“H-Harry,” you gulped under your breath. “Harry, Harry… please….”

“M’a man—” Your toes curled when he spanked again. “Who knows what he wants. Don’t have to try, do I, darling?”

You whined and he laughed breathlessly. You were sore — you were so sore, and so open that even his fingers didn’t feel like enough, and you just wanted—

“I wanna cum,” you whimpered. “I wanna cum, baby, please? Please, I—” You shouted when he pulsed just inside you, nearly tipping off him and nosediving to the floor. Bucking back on him, you matched his rhythm, begging him, “Please don’t stop… please don’t stop, I wanna cum, I wanna…!”

Crying out, everything in you tensed and you shook, a momentary smile of sheer relief pulling your lips as you mouthed silent thanks. When you slumped, tension lax, he bent over you and kissed your ass repeatedly.

“Can you get on the bed?” he asked between kisses. “Please?” His voice was tight and strained and the hardon digging into your ribs explained why. You’d no sooner nodded than he’d circled his arms around your midsection and lifted you up so you could scramble onto the bed. Behind you, he fumbled with zippers and fastenings, cursing in words you’d never heard before, but when he pulled your underwear down your thighs and the bed dipped behind you under the weight of his knees, you knew he’d done it.

No reverence, no ceremony. One moment, he was bracing himself with one hand on your ass, and the next he was inside you. He groaned deeply, each thrust shallow and quick, pelvis tight against your ass, balls heavy and skin smacking. “C’mon!” he begged reedily. “Oh, shit, come… come on, I—“

His cuffs tickled your skin and your face crumpled when you buried it in the duvet, sliding forward minutely each time he rolled his hips forward, mumbles and mutters incomprehensible until he spluttered and you felt the hot, wet rush of cum spurting in you. Your toes curled and you sucked in a breath, the force he was bearing down on you with just a shade painful, but he let go and pulled out in the next second, landing on the mattress with a heavy thud.

Your knees buckled and your body caved slowly until it was all but melted with the bed. “Kinda thought you’d never… never let me near any of your clothes,” you laughed, tongue thick and heavy. “Thought you’d always say they’re too p-priceless.”

Silence met you, and it was only when you lifted your head that you found him flat on his back with bow undone and hands on his chest, eyes closed and lips parted. “Harry?”

He grunted weakly and you dropped your head again. “Just checking.”

#harry smut #harry styles smut #harry imagine #harry x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry blurb #harry one shot #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #reader insert fanfic #reader insert fanfiction #permanentcross #original writing #blurred lines #blurred lines: met gala rewind

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ebaeschnbliah · 4 years

Photo

THE WALL HAD IT COMING

________________________________________________________________

Sherlock BBC, Series One, episode three, The Great Game starts with Sherlock shooting the wall in the 221b livingroom because, according to himself, he is massively bored. It’s the wall behind the sofa, the one with the famous fleur-de-lys wallpaper (x) and the yellow smiley face sprayed on it. The story doesn’t reveal who is responsible for the smiley on the wall, but Sherlock himself should be the best guess, I think. The paint used for it, is most likely the same as in TBB, used by the Black Lotus gang for their secret code … ‘Michigan M hardcore propellant zinc’ (x). Spray cans of that paint turn up three times in TBB. Sherlock finds one on the train tracks (transport), another one inside a bag at the Yellow Dragon Circus dressing room (masks) and a third one was used by members of the Yellow Dragon Circus (emotions) to spray their threat onto the windows at 221b, the night they abducted Sarah and John (respectively John and Sherlock, mirrored).

When Mrs. Hudson notices the holes shot into her wall, she tells Sherlock ... 'I’m putting this on your rent, young man!’. This means that Sherlock will have to pay with currency as compensation for the damage he has done to wallpaper and wall.

The smiling yellow face and the wall covered with this distinctive, by now famous wallpaper …. what could be the meaning of that combination, particularly with regards to Arwel Wyn Jones’ Twitter statement: ‘It’s nearly all about the wallpaper!’

TBC below the cut ….

On the meaning of walls and wallpapers

A wall is a solid structure built to enclose or shut off a space. It separates one thing from another, it guards and provides cover.

A wallpaper is a thick decorative paper used to cover the walls of a room, to make it look different.

Basically, a wallpaper is the facade of a wall. Shooting at it, leads to holes, to openings in wallpaper and wall. Viewed metaphorically, one could say Sherlock’s activity (born out of hundred years of boredom and frustration) results in ... ‘chinks in the armour'. And in his case those holes, those ‘chinks’ are clearly ‘self administered’.

A facade and guardian

It’s just a façade. Remind you of anyone, Mary? A façade.

Sherlock’s facade is a strong one. The whole purpose of the facade is to protect the ‘eternal friendship’ and to hide the truth

John can’t ever know that I lied to him. It would break him and I would lose him forever – and I will never let that happen. Please … understand. There is nothing in this world that I would not do to stop that happening.

The confrontation of LIE and TRUTH

It takes place inside a room - the bedroom of the man who owns a library full of secrets and scandals. A character who is the master of the ‘wastepaper bin’ inside Sherlock’s ‘harddrive’ where all the ‘deleted information’ is stored. The multiple mirrors in the room create the effect of a mirror cabinet, while the walls are covered with a very special wallpaper ... Harlequin’s Vortex Spirals ... Momentum - Vortex. (Outtake)

What a fitting name for the wallpaper used in this special scene. Another word for ‘vortex’ is ‘maelstrom’. I imagine this must be exactly what Sherlock is experiencing right here. A real maelstorm of contradictory emotions. One half of his being at war with ... ‘the other one’.

And it seems like a whole regiment of funny Smiley faces observes the drama that takes place in front of their dark eyes. The whole wall is smiling.

Some close-ups on the Smiley’s hiding in plain sight. Once you’ve discovered them, you simply can’t unsee them anymore.

An attempt to delete unwanted information?

Then why am I smiling? Ask me.

Twenty years ago Jim Moriarty killed Carl Powers because the boy, for whatever reason, laughed at him. Now Sherlock puts a hole in Magnussen’s head, maybe out of a similar reason? Because he makes fun of John and Sherlock? Because he …. knows? And so Sherlock tries to destroy the key that locks the ‘wastepaper bin’.

Crumbling masks, dropping facades

This scene in TST is the pendant to the one in CAM Tower. While there, Sherlock is hit by a bullet high above the ground, surrounded by walls of glass, in the room of a man he calls ‘shark’ …. here, Mary the facade, is hit by a bullet underground, also surrounded by walls of glass, behind which real sharks are circling in their tanks.

A high-up mind-scenario versus a deep-down emotion-scenario. And inside his mind, as the author of his own stage plays, Sherlock writes his facade out of the play. He decides to drop his facade in order to finally deal with emotions and love.

In saving my life, she conferred a value on it. It is a currency I do not know how to spend.

Dealing with love … high on drugs

Serial killer Culverton Smith from TLD, father of Faith, is a reflection of serialkiller Jeff Hope from ASIP. Both characters love to talk to their chosen victims and deem themselves ‘verging on nice … as far as serial killers go’. Hope and Smith, and also Smith’s daughter Faith act as mirrors for John Watson. Both men also share a rather noticeable trait … they are well equipped for a strikingly ‘toothy’ smile. Especially Culverton Smith. Maybe that’s the reason why Sherlock surrounds the pictures of Smith’s smiling face with circles and thus creates a different sort of ‘Smiley’ spread all over the walls and surfaces of 221b ... for drugged Sherlock to shoot at in the state he is in.

And by the end of that episode Eurus (emotional Sherlock) aims her gun at another ‘funny’ face … and shoots.

Huh. He’s making a funny face. I think I’ll put a hole in it.

The wall had it coming … once more

The (for now) last episode of Sherlock BBC closes again a circle backwards to the beginning. While restoring 221b after the explosion of the passions grenade, it is John who sprays the new Smiley at the wall behind the sofa … observed by the yellow face itself, at it seems.

And a smiling Sherlock shoots at it. This time though without being reprimanded by John or Mrs. Hudson.

Then Sherlock playfully blows away the smoke from the barrel of his gun ...

Two times Sherlock aims at a ‘smiley face’ but doesn’t shoot

Bet you never saw this coming

The Great Game: Sherlock tells John that Mycroft ‘was over the moon’ because Sherlock had been able to retrieve the stolen missile plans, that big brother even threatened him with a knighthood again. It’s a blatant lie though. Sherlock never returned that plans to Mycroft. Instead he arranges a secret meeting with Jim Moriarty and offers him the plans ... as a little ‘getting-to-know-you present’. For some seconds Sherlock thinks Jim and John might be the same person.

SHERLOCK: What if I was to shoot you now – right now? JIM: Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face.

Sherlock doesn’t shoot because hidden snipers are aiming at him and John.

Not on my watch ...

The Final Problem: Eurus forces Sherlock to decide between Mycroft and John. In a clever move Mycroft tries to manipulate Sherlock into shooting him instead of John. But Sherlock sees through his brother’s smart plan and decides to end the game by sacrificing himself.

Not in the face, though, please. I’ve promised my brain to the Royal Society. I suppose there is a heart somewhere inside me. I don’t imagine it’s much of a target but … why don’t we try for that?

Sherlock doesn’t pull the trigger because hidden ‘snipers’ shoot tranquilizer darts at him and John.

Sherlock BBC, The Smiley’s from S1-S4 a summery by @devoursjohnlock

Drippy yellow paint by @tjlcisthenewsexy

I leave you to your own deductions. Thank’s @callie-ariane for the scripts.

November, 2019

#the wall had it coming #wall #wallpaper #smiley face #shoot at the smiley #sherlock bbc #metaphorical reading #pics edited

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sparkwhorunswithwolves · 4 years

Note

Hey, so I just kind of fell into this fandom a few weeks ago and you seem like a really nice person :) Do you maybe have some fic recs?

Hi! Welcome to the fandom~

I have a lot of fic recs (ft. my own not that helpfull summeries), so in no particular order:

Running with Wolves

Stiles goes back in time and becomes a werewolf.

Odnowione życie

Stiles goes back in time, twice.

The Tragedy of Achilles Hale

petopher— Peter is looking for Chris’ and his bio son he thought had died shortly after he was born— while he accidentally starts parenting Jackson. His biological son. Not that either of them knows that.

A Beauty, a Beast, and a Stiles

Stiles gets bitten instead of Scott ft. stallison

A New Start

post canon pre!stira

Adult Supervision (Position Open, Searching for Responsible Adult)

Kira and Stiles get eaten by a giant evil dimension traveling turtle and complain about the adults

Missing Scenes

missing... well, scenes

Similarities

IED!Liam bonds with ADHD!Stiles

Afar

stallison bonding over Skype while Stiles stays with family recovering from the nogitsune

Curious pup

Stiles’ curiosity is a perfectly good reason to go to Eichen and ask Peter an Valek about organ transplants

Shatter

Stiles and Scott bond over Deaton being an ass and Stiles not being able to be Scott’s emissary

And the Walls Come Crumbling Down

stallison joining Peter’s pack while Scott is losing control and going after Allison

Conscience

the parking garage scene, but Stiles’ dad was involved in covering up the fire

It's All In Your Head

more ADHD!Stiles

Stained Glass Windows

petopher— Peter and the kids survive the fire, and struggles to keep the kids alive and happy while finding the one who killed their family, with help of Chris

Give You the Sunset

Peter leaves Beacon Hills, Stiles helps

The Argent-Stilinski Household

Chris/Noah— Stiles and Allison find out their dads are secretly dating, kill everything that tries to kill them witout them finding out, Peter helps and becomes an alpha again. Also: a wedding, aliens, and Tony Stark trying to kill Stiles because he told Steve to hide his coffee

Nothing Ever Happens in Sioux Falls

Stiles stays with Bobby Singer, and, Stiles being Stiles, gets involved in the local drama

foreverish and selfsubtracting

Stiles, Lydia, and Danny lose their friends in Beacon Hills, get abducted by a carnivorous, space-bending library, and meet some Avengers.

^^I’d add my own summery but that’s pretty much it

we've been here before

Stiles accidentally resurrects a bunch of people. Whoops?

the sound of iron on stone

Stiles goes back in time, but get cursed and can’t go anywhere near the supernatural

Right, wrong and everything in between

Peter bonds with bb!Stiles over gummybears and selfworth

Inevitable

Stiles and Scott get trapped in a time loop, kill people, get killed, call each other a monster, and Stiles gets the pack he deserves.

i looked at you and saw forever

stallison s1 rewrite ft. soulmates

Triumvirate Outtakes

sequel to I looked at you, warning for very big spoiler if you havent read it first

Mirror-and-Steve Boy

Stiles is Steve’s and Bucky’s grandson. Because science.

I am no sidekick

Stiles Stilinski & Peter Parker oh my god they were roommates

dust off these cobwebs

unrelated, but same concept as the one above

Hard to Believe it's Not Dead and Gone

tw/soa zombie crossover

There Are Many Names In History (but none of them are ours)

petopher²— Peter and Chris are stuck with their teenaged selves for the foreseeable future, ft past relationship, current feelings, and me still crying about that one scene 3 years later

you're never too much of an old dog to teach a duckling a new trick

Chris offers to train Stiles. Stiles isn’t Allison

Bet You Didn't See That Coming

The pack takes Stiles’ memories, thinking it’d keep him safe. Except he’s a Winchester who doesn’t need protecting

Mothers And Fathers

Stiles is Bruce Banner’s son. It goes about as well as you’d expect

Normal Adolescent Lycanthrope Behavior

all the teens are in a polyam relationship, ft alive Hales, asshole Wittemores, and trees used as baseballbats

Tell Me No Lies

Peter gets hit by a truth spell, Stiles is the only one who isn’t an ass about it

Those Who See

Stiles threatens Peter who’s trapped in a mountain ash circle

Not a Spark, But a Burn

Stiles goes back in time to before the Hale fire (haven’t read this one in ages so I can’t be more specific)

another pretty vein (just dies)

Stiles is psychic

Allies

missing scenes between Derek and Chris

You're Gonna Need Someone On Your Side

Chris wants to train Stiles because of hunter politics, Stiles thinks mutual kidnappig is the perfect way to bond with his new mentor, and Derek is just genrally bad at feelings.

Long Lost

Stiles is Harvey Specters long lost half brother. It goes a lot worse than expected

Falling into place

teen wolf/suits crossover, but this time they’re all werewolves

The Hotel Key

petopher— Chris gets kidnapped; the hotel key in his wallet has nothing to do with it

The Inconveniences of Being Dead

petopher— Chris helps Peter with the, well, inconveniences of being dead. Or as I like to call it: the accidental sugar daddy au ft. cats

#teen wolf #All the fics #Fic rec #I would have included the authors but the formatting between ao3 and tumblr is a pain

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aggresivelyfriendly · 4 years

Text

If The World Was Ending-WNTC Non-Canon Outtake

Hi! So I had to! Hope you like it, if you do, come talk to me! Or scream at me. All my love to @dirtystyles, long live tripod writing!

Reblogs are love!

This didn't happen - but this song and the current state of affairs made me crazy enough to imagine it, and then Harry and Jo kept talking in my head. So, here we are!

Who Names The Colors Extra: If the World Was Ending.

She's scared. Fucking terrified, mostly because she has zero idea, not a single one about what is going to happen tomorrow, let alone what happens next, next week, next month, if there will be a next year.

Jo wants Harry.

Jo wants Harry in a way she has worked really hard not to. She has given him his life, the possibility of a future.

And now, in this moment when everyone's future is completely uncertain and maybe not going to resemble the world of yesterday, may not happen at all, she just, it doesn't fucking matter. The fact she can't give him a baby, that their ages made all the things she wanted for him possibly impossible, and all the family drama and tension is totally irrelevant. Feels totally unimportant. It doesn't fucking matter. She could get the virus on a market run and she could be sick for a few weeks, or she could stop breathing. She has no way of knowing which it will be, or how long life will be interrupted. She feels helpless, hopeless, future less.

It's probably not that dramatic. By next year, everyone may remember this like a nightmare. But right now, this moment, with cases climbing and death tolls ringing and a government completely fucking it all up, that seems far away and maybe not true.

Jo wants Harry.

If the world is ending, he's all she wants.

Maybe not all she wants, but the list is short. What she would do if this was it. She imagines the last night time especially. The things she'd do. Call her son in Greece, see him happy, scared but happy with Sean, and tuck her ever growing sassy pants daughter into bed, and come downstairs to tea Harry has made her.

His tea was always better, than all the tea she's made on her own. "Made with love's why." He'd smile and wink and dimple and melt her. In the fantasy, he's folding laundry or finishing dishes too. Because, God she misses the partnership she glimpsed too, and she's too tired to do it all alone most days. Though it's easier now that Zoe's school aged.

He'd help her, though, always did, while feeding, watering, fucking, and holding her through all the angst she is feeling. Through the sky falling.

She nearly calls him. But Jo has no idea, not an inkling of where he is in the world. She doubts he's still in Montreal. That was a year ago. It was meant to be a 6 month intensive program. There were others she submitted him for that she knows he was good enough to get into no matter when he rang them interested.

If he is abroad, that terrifies her, too. God, what if he's abroad, and can't get home? Or is sick, fuck, sick alone? Though he is in a low risk group she says out loud and wraps an arm around herself, squeezes her shoulder to distract from the contraction of her heart.

London, he might be in London. She knows he should move there, be part of the art scene. Jo is just not sure if that's where he is in his journey yet. She's not sure why she thinks she knows anything about where he is, or might go, or how he will chart the course to the future she forced on him, gifted him.

They talked about it, or course. They talked about everything. Except when they just understood.

London. If he's in London, it's cruel, because he won't be moving: lockdown orders have just gone out. He'd be so close but so far. Expats are flying in, going home and quarantining. This option had been offered to Ethan. But it didn't make sense for him and Sean, they were safe, and in the home they'd made. If Harry's abroad, unless he's shacked up, ouch, he'd come home to Anne. But, if Harry's in London, he's stuck away from his family. Unless he's settled and happy there instead. Anne might be ok with that state of affairs.

Jo's not.

She doesn't believe that, it's not been that long, since them, not really. She wants him to be happy, with somebody else, but not so soon. She's not over it remotely well enough to contemplate another body in her space, mind, or person. May never be able to fathom somebody not Harry.

She imagines Anne is out of her head worried.

Anne, she could just call Anne. It will be weird, but if it's just to check on Harry, she can do it. Only slightly, ridiculously awkward. But Anne knew, the devastation for both of them. She won't be wholly surprised. It's just a phone call to check on him, Harry never need know. Anne will not tell, Jo's sure. His mother wants them apart, forever.

Jo's heart squeezes again.

As a mother, she understands. As the unsuitable love of someone's life, well, she can't.

But, none of that matters. Because it feels like the world is ending. Jo just needs to know he's alright. First and foremost, that he is ok. And then she needs to know something for herself. Her selfish self. That he'd come over if he could, to hold her and be with her the way they both wanted but couldn't have. Because none of the consequences matter, not right now.

He will not likely be able to get to her, so it's just the comfort of their love, or his huge heart all for her, still.

She's dialing Anne before she can stop herself. The land line, the one Anne gave her when she'd come to ream her, and had offered loving kindness instead.

"Hullo?" Her heart stops, stutters, blooms.

She hangs up.

Holy fuck, he is here. He is home in their little village. Good, good for Anne. "Oh my god!" She yells to the air, because now the proposition is real. The possible fulfillment and rejection, real. Would he come over, now the world's ending, stay the night? The rest of the horrible uncertain trials they are facing be damned, can go to hell, if he would come hold her tight. Her breathing is rapid and she's concentrating on slowing it down. God, what if he wouldn't come over. Had wised up, decided they weren't what she knew them to be.

What if he would come over?

Neither matter, in any case, she's hung up. It's ok, he doesn't need to know it was her.

The phone in her hand buzzes. Anne S. reads the call log. Does she answer?

How can she not? Her whole body feels better, knowing his is close. She sends it out to him, it overrides her nerves about everything, including answering. Even his presence, that she received via strong voice through the receiver, not weakened by sickness, worry, or sorrow, bolstered her. She feels better all ready. She might be able to have more though, than his calm. Jo might be able to have him, a real moment with him. Maybe lots of them, a day that feels like moments because of the way time suspends when they commune.

She catches the call just before it gets shunted to voicemail.

"Hello?" She says, her voice is thin, the only force in it, hope.

"Jo?" He gasps and her tears leak down their cheeks.

His voice. Her name on his lips.

"Hi!" She tries to steady her voice. It doesn't work and his breath tells her she's unsettled him.

"Is everything ok? Zoe ok? Why're you calling my mum?" He inhales loudly. "Sorry, that's rude. I just, god, wasn't expecting your call. Not that it's not lovely to hear your voice, baby."

They both suck in a breath at that. "I was..." How does she say this? "I was worried?"

"About my mum?" He asks, his voice lined with hope as well.

"Well, yes." She says, hopes he hears what she is not saying the way he always did.

He laughs suddenly with something like joy in his voice. "It's alright, I've already asked about you. So no need to be embarrassed." He swallows. "Ever."

"Yeah?" She asks.

"Yeah, you're a brave little thing, calling my mum to check on me." He teases.

"Um, she told me to call if I needed help, she was kind to me." Jo glances down. Shit, it's so late.

It was almost bed time, and their custody agreement didn't end, even in a pandemic. She needs to make sure Zoe hears her voice say she loves her. For the same reason she had called Anne. "I know where you get it from. She has every reason to dislike me—"

"She doesn't dislike you, nobody could dislike you, Jo."

"Oh, well, I think that's an opinion. You're biased." She stops herself.

"Because I love you?" He asks but keeps talking so she can't answer. "It's true though, you're impossible to dislike." He whispers. "Impossible not to love."

"Har- Harry." She looks at the ceiling and hears him groan. "I actually have to go, I didn't plan this at all." She sighs.

"Well, I assume you have nowhere to be?" God, he sounds light as a feather, she could fly.

"Yes and no. It's time for my goodnight call to Zoe. She's with Colin."

"She'll come home though, some point, right?" He asks, urgent. "I hate to think of you alone at a time like this? Where's..." He gulps. "Where's Ethan?" He sounds like he's swallowing glass.

"Greece, stayed there, he and Sean are safe, still able to work, so they stayed."

"Oh Jo!" He sighs. "Baby, are you all alone?"

"No, no, I'm not." Not really, just physically right now.

"Who're you with?" His voice is dark for a moment, thick like his voice box is coated in mud.

"With?" Oh! He thinks a man is with her. He's swallowing his reaction. "No one at the moment, I just, Zoe comes home Monday. But we were talking about initiating the summer schedule sooner." She slows down. That won't make sense to him, he's not privy to the details of her life anymore. Doesn't need to be. "But anyway. She's there and I like to call, have my voice be one of the last things she hears at the end of the day."

"And you need to see her face before you sleep. " It's not a question.

"Yeah, um, but I called you, your mum, without checking the time and her stories are probably over." She explains.

"Ok, that's, thats ok, thanks for calling, Jo." His heart is in his voice. That outsized prize in his chest. She wishes with her whole heart she could keep his.

"Yeah, bye, um bye, Harry." She swallows. Her own emotions coating her throat. "Take care, please." Can he hear the plea in her voice?

"You too." He says in a way she feels. Like all his unspoken hopes for her are in the two words. That she not just to survive the virus, but to be well, and happy, just not with anyone else. Jo's projecting. Those are her unspoken prayers for him. She pulls the phone away and the call ends on his end just before she touches the red button.

She never got to ask him, if he'd come over.

That's all well and good though, because it's real now. He could come over. He could not come over, too. Jo sits for a moment, the oxygen sucked out of the room. That would be worse, definitely devastating. It's good she didn't get to ask. She shakes her head, glances at the time on her phone. She needs to call Zoe.

Her daughter's bright face is a brilliant distraction. Though the pull of the call, Harry's call, the things he said, how he said them, and all the things they didn't say is stronger. Jo gets her motherly reassurance, and smiles for her baby, but her mind is elsewhere.

"Night bug! Can't wait to see you Monday!" Jo's heart squeezes and she signs off the zoom. The leave button feels so final. She keeps herself together when Zoe can see her, no matter what. She hates this, the entire custody thing, that it was necessary, and some days she hates that the entire thing happened. But she can't regret Zoe, or the divorce or everything after. She also can't regret that Colin decided somewhere along the way he wanted to be more involved, needed to be. Though some days, especially these weird isolation days, she hates that she can't just hunker down with her baby and be wrapped up in baking or tik tok dances or crafts, puzzles, whatever Zoe was into. Instead, she has to be separated from her bud.

She sighs and pulls her old bones off the ottoman; she's tired. The nightly routine done by rote while she yawns, flicks lights and clicks locks.

Her heart stops and then defribullates when she gets to the back door.

Through the triple diamond shaped glass is his unmistakable shape.

Harry.

Because if the world is ending he'd come over, right?

"Harry?" The question is only in her voice, not in her heart. Course he'd come.

"Miss Jo." She must make a face, because he steps forward and takes her hand. "Jo, I..." He looks for words to say, "I thought we could paint," he tries to smile for her. "or something?" God, he looks like every dream she's had of him, mostly. He's different, it's been a year. He's shorn his locks, his hair is almost high and tight. His lovely hair gone, she mourns it, the silk of it through her fingers, like water rippling on her skin.

The cut looks good on him, of course it does, everything does. His jaw is exposed, his cheekbones amplified, and the green of his eyes is so golden, she's rich. "Can I come in?"

"Yes." She blurts out, because of course the answer is always yes. Yes Harry, have me, my life, my always. But not at the cost of yours. Have my right now.

What is anyone's always right now?

Which is why they are here.

So, now he is in her kitchen and they stare at each other. There was a time, she recalls, when he would have her on the table, or at least a stool by now. But, it's been a while and a lot of time and broken heartbeats have passed.

"Tea?" She offers for something to do; she sets about making his brew when he nods. Her hands and feet carry her around her kitchen without much thought while she concentrates on what happens next. He's come over, right. Now what? She's waiting for the whistle, when he steps close behind her. His heat warms her for a bit. She forgets she's out of her depth, least his body is familiar, but, "you smell different." She can't stop herself saying.

"I had to change it." He smells her hair. "The other reminded me of you. All the times you mentioned it." He swallows. "You smell the same."

I couldn't change it, it reminds me of you. "Yeah," is all she says. When his arms come around her waist and his chin hooks over her shoulder, Jo feels lighter than she has in, well it's been more than a year.

"How you doing, baby?" He asks against her cheek. And he is not asking about right in this moment, it's everything, how's her art, and her kids, and their relationships, and her job, and most of all her missing him?

The smile takes her face. "I'm alright actually. Really." She summons her courage, says. "I miss you, all the time." She turns and wraps her arms around his neck, her face laying against her bicep, so she can gift herself a view of his face anytime, when she is ready.

Harry kisses her temple. "Me too." And they stay like that, resting in the embrace like it's a balm on a healing wound, for long deep breaths of each other.

When the kettle blows, she pulls her face back and offers him a peck. He smiles before softly bussing her lips and loosening his arms to let her turn around. He eventually has to let his arms drop as she busies herself making the tea - the leaves, and the dunk - serious business. He follows her to the fridge when she gets out the milk. "Same?" She looks at him, he's been looking at her since he arrived, he's always looking at her, in his mind's eye, or on canvas.

"I forgot how beautiful you are." Her gaze drops and she's so glad she got the gall to call his mother. Knows when they have to part again it will be worth it, to have had him in this moment of uncertainty. He is her constant.

She was never more certain than of her feelings for him, his for her.

"Not to steal your words, but me too." The moment's not awkward, just leaden, she rolls her eyes and smiles at him, "now then, same tea?" They do tension like she can't believe, every moment pregnant with possibility.

"'Course, it's not been that long. Only my geography has changed." That makes her almost spill the milk, he means geography like a map. Jo she never thinks of his geography as where he lives, she thinks of the body she mapped under his clothes. Her territory.

"Has it?" She asks and places the milk down, slips her hands under his t shirt to check.

It's bold. She's only ever been so fearless, selfish, with him.

He catches on quickly and the smug smile creases his cheeks in the way that always got her wet. Still. "Would you like to check?"

He doesn't actually give her a chance to answer, his hand is in her hair and he's taken her mouth. She knocks over the milk, the lid isn't tight and drops leak out.

It's both uncharted and the only home she's known. He kisses the same, but tastes just a bit different, like he has a new diet with new habits. Things she might not know, but she does know that when he nips the middle of her lip, it mean he wants her to open her mouth. Jo pulls back to look up at him instead. The thumb on her jaw drops to her neck and the possession makes her weak.

"Lover?" It's a question. His eyes close and he puts his forehead to hers and kisses the tip of her nose. "Har-Harry?" That ones a provocation.

It works. He hoists her up onto the sink sill and jostles the tea cups. Milky tea on the homely countertops.

"We're making a mess!" Harry whispers, breath over her lips.

"Didn't we always?" The color of his eyes is devastating.

"Let's go make a different mess, baby." She nods and he lifts her back up his hips and takes the familiar journey to her bedroom. He walks the counted steps from memory, consumed in the kiss, when his knees don't meet the mattress, his eyes pop open. "Where's the bed?"

Jo points.

Harry stops and looks around. "It's different."

"Yeah." She sighs. She supposes she is negating this change a bit. But this feels like a reprieve and she hopes it's a balm instead of a burn to her missing him muscles. "I miss you. All the time—" She starts to explain.

"Yeah, me too." He interrupts.

"I missed you so much at first I had to, to.."

"I know, baby." He kisses right over her heart. Pulls her arms free and her top over her head. Repeats the kiss. "Of course, I know."

That's the bitch of it all, he does know. He knows everything, all about her, every inch of the body he uncovers. He mapped the curve of her waist, knows that the underside of her breasts makes her writhe when he runs his chin over it, arch when he licks it, and tremble when he sucks. The replay is the same on her nipples, only forceful. It makes her react like a taut bow, she may buck him away. He keeps her still through it, to endure the activation of his prior knowledge . The nips and swirls and eye contact while he favors her breasts, all the things he remembers how to do to her.

Her hips are pistoling. She knows what she needs, has needed for too long to remember how this feels. Too recent, resplendent, to ever forget.

But Jo also knows Harry, and he's in a patient mood. Or worshipful, she supposes. His favorite ritual he is about to perform on her body.

His rite takes him over her belly. Earlier, the lack of curls on his head had only given her a momentary ache, until they didn't make tendrils of fire over her abdomen, slither through the crease of her thigh when he made his way down to start on his knees, at her feet. Her supplicant. The caress to her instep is the beginning of his atonement. The attention to the bends of her knees and then the back of her thighs is a confession.

He adores her ass, and her back. She's onto her knees and pushing back into his body when he gets to her upper shoulders. The supplication is too much to bear and she needs more, every inch of him to merge with her, divine their purpose.

"Har-Harry! Please?" She can feel all of his length in the crack of her ass and it's not where she wants him, but he can do anything he wants with her. It is all a prayer, their worship, even his denial of her pleas. Her glides along him draw a grunt though, gnaws at his patience. She's proud but disconcerted. He's not talking? He always made a joyful noise when he loved her before. "Lover, you ok?"

"I'm," he catches her chin and turns her face into him. "I'm awestruck, Jo."

Their lips mingle just after the breath of his speech ends. She feels him shift behind her, line himself up, anoint his dick with her dew. "Baby?" He asks. She kisses him in an ecstatic state, nods like a sinner taking the wafer , even before he presses the tip in. When he does, she shivers in delight as they commune.

"Oh, lover!" She sings a hymn to their homecoming. Her melody and verse are sighs and moans. He harmonizes with her. Comes to a near crescendo, leads her to a refrain, slower, changes the song. She's on her back now, wide open and ready to receive his message. Instead, he rhapsodizes down her front body again, the chorus quicker. Her cunt is the receiver of his word, and his tongue does something magical while he leads her to the pre chorus. "Oh Harry. Your mouth!" She babbling and praying he doesn't stop, does stop, don't stop, please stop, until she cries an hallelujah.

Thank God she called.

She baptizes him when he takes her through the shakes back to heaven.

Her trance like state is barely broken when he comes to join her, join them. "Jo, you're glorious. I love you!" He swears his oath when he brings them back together. All of him within all of her, and creation too. She grips his face while he rocks into her, needing to see the riches of his eyes. The gold is electric there and she knows he will always come for her, her gold standard. That though he thought their preciousness gone, it was just underneath the weight of the world on top of them.

Now with him on top of her, they've found a new deposit. A shorter vein of richer gold.

They have to relish it, this gift, heaven on earth before it's over.

He does that thing, takes them to that plane, where time doesn't matter, the pandemic makes time sort of irrelevant anyway. What are mere hours between pilgrims?

They go through transfigurations, she's the altar, then the priest. Then him. In all sorts of shapes, their te deum unfolds, refolds, comes undone.

Jo is undone beneath him, unmade, and exhumed as his.

"You're so golden, Jo." He whispers into her ear when his joy and his energy run out.

He falls asleep on top of her, a fugue in the continuing rhapsody this interlude gifted them.

She cries a little, tears of joy. She doesn't want him to go yet. Not until Zoe comes home. That's when their clock runs out, their world ends. It's not fair to put her through it. Zoe missed him so much when he left. Asked about him ceaselessly, them regularly, still rarely.

Jo tells him so. "I'd like you to stay, through Sunday."

He holds her close and nods to nonexistent music in answer. The whole weekend is a symphony to what was, could be.

Some of their overtures are meals cooked for each other, cuddles on the couch, cusses in her bedchamber, a long afternoon with clothes on their backs and paintbrushes in their hands until they found a favored canvas in each other's skin.

He filled in the half heart he found on her with his tears, then with his kisses.

"Let's make a bigger one?" He suggested, and they used her camera, painted their paired halves whole on each other and photographed it. There are a few without looking their faces she will print out and frame, or put into one of the art books she is selling. She loves them so much, that they were complete for a while, she has to have proof.

They call each other by name, a lot. The names vary with the theme, the moment.

But, above all, Jo realizes he is the one she'd call, if she had only moments left. She'd spend them with him.

Their coda is her call and his response.

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