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foreignjaykay · 4 months ago

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company (a jungkook fic)

part two - "better late than never, right?"

company - a jungkook fic

can we keep each other company?

their workplace was chaos, but jungkook made it fun. their camaraderie was effortless—until he decided to leave. no big deal. people quit all the time. so why does it feel like everything is about to change?

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: r18+ (angst, fluff) minors do not interact!

chapter warnings/misc: workplace!au, coworkers!au, event planner!jk, event planner!oc, jk is not famous, angst, fluff, sad, crack, event planner!mingyu, bts in event planning company, unserious friend group, they are so silly and unserious, , ANGST, IDIOTS both of them, OBLIVIOUSNESS LMAO, yeah you might feel like screaming at the screen i know, i know

notes: hello everyone!!! sorry for the delay. here you go with part 2, i really like this one! things will only get more interesting as we progress further -evil laugh- no but seriously this whole fic is just like justin bieber's believe album. heard that while writing this part lol. we also meet a lot of new characters who are so dear to me! anywho, hope you enjoy this one <3

also here is company!jk’s visual vibe

moodboard • playlist • series masterlist

The moment you finished the texts that morning, you knew the office was going to be a whirlwind of chaos. And you were right.

As soon as you punched into the system, and opened the door, you could already hear laughter coming from the cafeteria.

Oh brother!

The 'Survivors' gang was already huddled around a table, with Jungkook right in the center, laughter radiating from him like sunlight. His eyes lit up the second they met yours, and before you could even think about slipping away, Mingyu—Gyu, as you fondly called him—beckoned you over.

“_______! Get over here!” he grinned.

You smiled lightly, already dreading what was going to happen however you nodded your head, and made your way to them anyway.

As you join them, a familiar warmth settles over you. Around the table were all the familiar faces who had become your second family: Mingyu and Shane from CS team just like Jungkook and you, Yuna, Dae, So-hee, Jimin, and Taehyung from design, Namjoon and Jin from production, Hobi and Yoongi from accounts, and Iseul from the same team. Each one of them held a special place in your heart, but after Jungkook, it was Mingyu and Yuna you were closest to.

The conversation buzzed with excitement, actually no, shock, as everyone bombarded Jungkook with questions about his new job, his plans, and his time left at the office.

“No cause what the fuck were you saying this morning?” Yuna asked, remembering the conversation from earlier this morning.

“Are you really resigning, JK?” Hobi asked. Just like you, they all couldn't believe it.

Jungkook nodded with a wistful smile, the corners of his lips curve upwards slightly, but his eyes conveyed a hint of sadness, suggesting a mix of melancholy and acceptance.

So,” So-hee started, leaning back in her chair. “You wanna explain?”

Jungkook chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean… yeah. It’s happening.”

“Where are you even going?” Namjoon asked, arms crossed. “You never said anything about leaving.”

Jungkook exhaled, his fingers tapping against the table. “I got an offer to work on live concerts. Big ones. A-list musicians, full production scale, global tours. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”

Your chest tightened. You already knew this, but hearing him say it out loud made it real.

“You and _____ always talked about this,” Jimin murmured. You glanced at Jungkook as soon as you heard that and when you looked at him, you saw his eyes flickering to yours. An emotion you couldn’t describe passing briefly through his features.

“Yeah,” he said, softer now. “We did.”

You noticed both Yuna and Mingyu glancing at you, and you knew exactly why. Yuna specifically was going to ask you about this later, and you mentally braced yourself for the impending interrogation.

“So you’re leaving because you finally got your dream job,” Yoongil summarized.

Jungkook nodded. “I didn’t want to do these luxury brand launches forever. The dinners, the red carpets… it’s cool, but it’s not my thing. Concerts? That’s different.”

“Shit, man.” Taehyung whistled. “I mean, I’m happy for you, but this sucks.”

“Who’s gonna get roasted in the GC now?” Shane joked, nudging Jungkook.

Jungkook laughed. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll still be in the GC. I’ll be haunting you all from afar.”

Shane, Mingyu and you already knew. God, you still couldn't believe this news.

He was leaving.

You know it wasn’t supposed to be this dramatic but why did it feel so heavy?

You broke from your thoughts when your phone buzzed with calls and dozens of messages.

“Guys, I gotta go,” you interrupted when you saw Jungkook animatedly describe his upcoming journey, holding up your phone. “Already getting calls.”

Jungkook’s eyes flicked to your phone and then back to you. “Oh, by the way,” he said casually, but his voice held that familiar teasing lilt, “Natasha asked me to shadow you for the Johnnie Walker Blue Label dinner tomorrow.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips despite the sudden pang in your chest.

“Maybe this could be our last adventure?” he said looking at you, voice dipping a little. “Gotta make the most of my final days, right?” He added.

You could feel the rest of their eyes on you.

Your heart clenched when he said that, but sarcasm was your armor. “Jungkook, you leave in a month. We still have Cartier coming up.”

He chuckled, the sound effortlessly charming. “Oh yeah.”

And for a second—just a fraction of a second—you hesitated, watching him.

And he watched you back.

But the moment passed, and you rolled your eyes. “Drama queen.”

His laughter, carefree yet tinged with something unspoken, echoed through the cafeteria. Around you, the rest of the group exchanged glances, picking up on the subtle awkwardness in the air. It was brief, fleeting, but undeniable.

And then you were gone, walking away with your phone glued to your ear, pretending everything was perfectly fine.

The cafeteria slowly emptied after the morning chaos. You had already left, phone pressed to her ear as she dove headfirst into calls for the Johnnie Walker event. One by one, the rest of the ‘Survivors’ gang filtered out, leaving only Jungkook and Namjoon seated at the corner table.

Jungkook sat silently, fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup, eyes lost in thought.

“Thinking hard for someone who’s got a dream job lined up,” Namjoon teased gently, breaking the silence.

Jungkook blinked, pulled from his daze. “Huh? Oh... yeah. Just... a lot on my mind.”

Namjoon chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Right. ‘A lot.’ Or maybe... someone?”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, then softened as he followed Namjoon’s gaze. Across the glass partition, you paced back and forth, phone glued to your ear, animatedly sorting out last-minute details.

You have always been like this. Dismissive. Untouchable. And yet, here Jungkook was, wishing you’d just–

Namjoon’s question broke Jungkook’s train of thought when he asked, “You gonna miss her?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, the question catching him off guard. He opened his mouth, then closed it, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “Yeah... of course. She’s my best friend here. And... well... my saviour.”

He chuckled softly, pulling out his phone and flashing the contact name — ‘Saviour.’

Namjoon observed him for a moment, the corner of his mouth lifting into a knowing smile. He didn’t say much, but the silence between them felt weighty, charged with unspoken understanding.

Jungkook glanced at him, confused. “What?”

Namjoon shook his head with a small laugh. “Nothing, man.”

Jungkook, oblivious, ran a hand through his hair and stood up. “I should get back to work.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon replied, eyes still watching you through the glass. “You should.”

As Jungkook walked away, Namjoon sat back, sipping his coffee, a quiet smirk playing on his lips.

You sat alone in the bustling cafeteria, the clatter of trays and distant murmurs barely registering in your mind. December’s madness gripped the office, with Natasha’s vacation leaving the team drowning in work. Even Jake Peralta’s comedic chaos on your phone screen couldn’t compete with the storm of thoughts in your head. And that show single handedly was there for you after your 5473829018393th break up with San.

Oh San.

You didn't like thinking about him. At all.

You were glad you were not in that mess of a relationship anymore. So toxic. The constant lying, manipulation and chea-

Oh no. You are not thinking about that.

It had been 2 years since you were really with someone. Enough time to heal, right? Funny to think that after you broke up with San, you got the job here and met Jungkook and the rest of the gang. Work had also consumed you then and still does. It helped distract you from the pain you felt then.

You were glad you did.

Met them, you mean.

Your fingers mindlessly pushed your food around as you stared at nothing in particular. Jungkook’s words from the morning replayed like a broken record in your head. The brightness in his eyes, the laughter, the ache that tugged at your heartstrings for reasons you couldn’t pinpoint.

It’s just a job. People leave all the time. Shane, Mingyu, Yuna, and the rest of them will still be here. Nothing’s changing.

The weight in your chest whispered otherwise.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you from the spiral.

yuna (work) [2:05 pm]: babe where are you?

you [2:05 pm]: in the cafeteria. whats up?

yuna (work) [2:06 pm]: we need to talk!

You sighed. Here we go.

you [2:06 pm]: about?

yuna (work) [2:07 pm]: meet me at conference room #2 once you are done with lunch?

you [2:07 pm]: sure

yuna (work) [2:07 pm]: see ya!

You were already bracing yourself.

After lunch, you found herself pacing outside the conference room before finally pushing the door open.

Yuna sat cross-legged on the table, her usual grin replaced with a softer, more curious expression. “Hey, you okay?”

You raised a brow. “Why is everyone suddenly asking me that?”

“Because we care,” Yuna replied simply. “And... because you seem off. Jungkook’s leaving is hitting you harder than you’re letting on.”

You scoffed lightly, though your posture stiffened. “It’s not that deep, Yuna. He’s a friend. People leave all the time. Shane, Mingyu, you... you’re all still here.”

You could feel Yuna study you for a moment. “So, you're fine?”

“Completely fine,” You said, and nodded.

Were you really trying to convince her or yourself?

“Right,” Yuna responded, her tone laced with an almost imperceptible amusement. “It’s just funny how ‘fine’ people don’t avoid eye contact every time someone brings up Jungkook.”

You sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m just... busy, okay? There’s so much going on, and—”

“And?”

You bit your lip, deflecting. “Look, I’ll miss him, sure. But I’m not losing him. He’s a text away. We’ll still talk,”

“Of course,” Yuna nodded, standing up and smoothing her shirt. “If you say so.”

You narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” Yuna smiled slightly, walking to the door. She paused just before leaving, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “You’re so oblivious.”

“To what?” You asked confused.

“Exactly,” And with that Yuna is gone.

Your mouth opened to respond, but she was already gone. You stood there, confused and restless. Oblivious to what?

The office hummed with the quiet rhythm of the evening shift. The December chill seeped through the windows, blending with the glow of computer screens and the occasional click of keyboards. You returned to her desk after your client meeting, only to find Shane and Mingyu locked in a heated argument.

“Dude, I’m telling you, Die Hard is totally a Christmas movie!” Shane insisted, arms flailing dramatically.

Mingyu scoffed. “Just because it’s set during Christmas doesn’t make it a Christmas movie.”

“Next, you’ll tell me Harry Potter is a Halloween movie because there’s a troll in the dungeon,” You quipped, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Okay, but seriously,” Shane interjected, “___, back me up here. Christmas is all about family, redemption, and explosions—Die Hard fits!”

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “You just like explosions.”

Their playful banter made you smile, but it didn’t fully erase the weight you felt inside. Your eyes drifted across the room, where Jungkook sat on the worn leather sofa, focused intensely on his laptop. The crease between his brows, the way his fingers moved with precision—there was something magnetic about him in moments like this.

Why does he make this so hard?

An hour slipped by. Mingyu and Shane finally gathered their things.

“Don’t stay too late, ______,” Mingyu called out. “And JK, take a break from being a workaholic, would you?”

Shane and you chuckled.

“Later losers,” Shane joked, shooting finger guns at Jungkook and you. You rolled your eyes while Jungkook chuckled and gave him a mock salute.

The door clicked shut, and the office felt quieter than ever. Jungkook stretched, shutting his laptop and walking towards your desk.

“Long day, huh?” he asked softly.

You nodded, your gaze drifting to his laptop. Curiosity morphed into something heavier.

“Wait... is that your handover sheet?” Your voice cracked slightly.

Jungkook chuckled, though his eyes reflected something bittersweet. “Yeah. Better to start now than rush later.”

“Look at you being all prepared huh?” You said as a joke.

“Isn’t it too soon?” you added, forcing a laugh that barely hid the lump in your throat.

“Maybe,” he replied. “But... better late than never, right?” His smile was soft, almost apologetic.

You nodded and felt a weight settle in your chest.

“You okay?” he asked you gently.

Were you seriously this obvious? Well since childhood, your emotions always showed on your face. You just can’t control it.

These days it feels like a flaw, more than usual.

“Yeah,” you lied. “Just... you know, work. Event tomorrow and all,”

Jungkook didn’t seem to buy it, but nodded anyway.

“Heading out? I can drop you home.” He asked as you saw him pack his bag and wait for your answer.

“No, I’ve got stuff to finish,” you said quickly.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he offered.

“No, really,” you insisted, eyes glued to your screen. “Go home, Jungkook.”

He hesitated. “If you’re sure...”

“I’m sure.” You said and gave him a smile. It wasn't sincere and he knew that. He didn't want to push it.

Things between the two of you have been a little awkward anyway. As he left, the emptiness felt overwhelming. Better late than never... you repeated in your mind, but it didn’t feel right at all.

The office was eerily quiet now, with only the hum of the air conditioner and the faint clicking of your keyboard filling the space. You leaned back in her chair, stretching, when your gaze fell upon the corkboard in front of your desk.

Pinned right in the center was a Laneige-branded polaroid, its white sleeve bordered with the brand’s iconic blue. In the photo, you were mid-laugh, eyes crinkling with joy, while Jungkook stood beside you, grinning mischievously as he held up bunny ears behind your head.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and before you knew it, you were pulled into the memory.

The Laneige event was supposed to be smooth sailing, until it wasn’t. Your eyes darted between your laptop and the large screen where the AV was supposed to play the brand’s latest product ad. Except, instead of the sleek, high-definition video, there was static. Then a black screen.

“Oh no, no, no,” you muttered, frantically searching your files. The sound team huddled around you, whispering about corrupted files and missing backups.

“I’m screwed,” you whispered under your breath, panic tightening your chest.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Jungkook’s voice cut through the chaos. He crouched beside you, brows knitted with concern.

“The AV—it's all wrong. Somehow the final version is not playing even though we did the tech check this morning. It’s not working, and the event starts in fifteen minutes,” you rambled, barely breathing.

“Okay, hey, breathe,” he said softly. “We’ve got this.”

He turned to the sound team. “Check the codec settings and reload the player. Sometimes it freezes with large files. Do we have the original file on a backup drive?”

One of the techs nodded, scrambling to connect it.

“____, check if the client sent any last-minute updates.”

You nodded, fingers trembling as she searched. “Here! The client sent a backup this morning.”

“Perfect. Upload it to my drive,” Jungkook said, opening his laptop. Within moments, he transferred the file, reloaded the player, and the screen flickered back to life with the flawless Laneige ad.

You exhaled deeply, your heart still pounding. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“Teamwork, remember?” he grinned.

After the event wrapped up successfully, the two of you found yourselves at the instant photobooth Laneige had set up for guests. Jungkook pulled you in, making funny faces while youburst out laughing.

“Smile!” he said just as the camera clicked.

The polaroid printed out, and before they could take another, Mingyu, Shane, Yuna, Namjoon and Jin jumped in, cramming into the frame, laughing uncontrollably.

Back in the present, your smile was bittersweet. You traced the edge of the polaroid with your finger, the weight of the impending goodbye settling heavily on your chest.

“Drama queen,” you whispered softly, echoing your teasing words to Jungkook earlier. But deep down, you knew—this goodbye wasn’t going to be easy.

Maybe he was the saviour all along.

part 3

#jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts hobi #jin bts #mingyu #bts namjoon #bts jimin #bts taehyung #fic: company #workplace au #office au

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chinadroll · 1 year ago

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people to know better

tagged by @distressednoise - hello and thank you! I haven't seen one of these in a while!

Last Song I Listened to: One For My Baby (And One More For The Road) - the Tony Bennett and John Mayer duet version. Because I woke up to it playing on my Echo this morning, having never even been aware that such a thing existed, and wanted to see if there was an official video for it on youtube just now. And there was! Context: I saw John Mayer in concert last month and have been listening to his music nonstop ever since (hence Alexa throwing that random Tony Bennett duet at me after presumably streaming everything else all night long).

Currently Watching: I'm in the middle of about a million shows, but the only thing I am actually actively seeking out right now is Leafs related playoffs content on youtube. Because I hate myself?

Sweet/Savoury/Spicy? All at once, ideally, in the form of Walkers Sensations Thai Sweet Chilli crisps. But savoury>sweet>spicy, and crunchy savoury is the king of them all.

Relationship Status? Vehemently opposed. Just ... who has the time?! And it's so much effort.

Current Obsession? See above wrt Leafs. Also John Mayer. But, also, CS Harris' Sebastian St Cyr Mysteries. Have just read book 11, and need to slow down bwdore I catch up with publication and have to waaaaaaait for new books in the series.

No pressure tags, just for fun: @sweetfirebird @derryderrydown @faraige @elreinodelpurgatorio @thecrankyagnes

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hotarutranslations · 1 year ago

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Tonight, #Mo-Jo, Tomorrow #NamaTake

Evening

Tomorrow, the 24th (Sun) 12:00PM~

"HinaFest 2024" Before Special ~NamaTake Member Great Gathering 2 Hour SP~

Is Airing📺💫

Please definitellyyyyy watch! Since it made me laugh a lot!

To those that are like, its difficult~ I don't have time~ I think I've done my best to make it something you'll want to watch! Since I laughed a ton!

By all means!

Please watch!

Together with Dojima-san, I'm happy they were in the announcement comment😂 lol

🕊️←definitely look

Osaka performance first day!

Thank you very much!

I won't say anything but, With the evening performance,

Round and round 🌀stab☝️ stab ☝️(TL note: I am not sure if this is correct lol)

it was fun, and funny~~~

There are various things to enjoy in a performance🏅

Today in the afternoon, One one side, there was the momentum of lets go lets go--, I could get the reaction I wanted from the big answer, I completely messed up 😎lol

First off for tomorrow as well, It'll be a performance on like it in Osaka!

Lets look forward---!

I actually thought I already wrote a blog!

Again, thank you!

Also, in yesterdays blog,

I had writen "a different path" but,

With a different path, I'm talking about a different path in Morning Musume, Not an entirely different path!

I tlak about it in the Tokyo Sports interview but,

here

I was only thinking of this so😂💫

I was only thinking of writing this earlier!

Tonight is, Morning Musume '24's Morning Jogakuin ~Houkago Meeting~

Is airing

Ishida, Makino Maria, and Sakurai Rio are in attendance

🩵🎫e+ 🩵🎫TicketPia

Also the finale has been decided

May 27th (Mon) Nippon Budoukan .🌏👏🏻

The Ticket FC Advance Reception is undergoing! I'm looking forward to being able to meet!

📺Hello Pro Dance Gakuen Season 11

April 18th 11:30PM~ A Learning From TSUKUSHI-san Adventure🕺

In season 10 we challenged breakin', its reairing continuously! On the 15th, 17th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, #1~#6 all at once! Check out HP for info!

Sendai Broadcast "Ara Ara Kashiko" Every week (Sat) 10:25AM~ Ishida Ayumi Goes~!

I appear once a month as part of the AraKashi Family

The previous shows, and makings, are on OX VIDEO STORE!

Also on YouTube

Sendai Broadcast Ara Ara Kashiko

📺"HinaFest 2024" Before Special ~NamaTake Member Great Gathering 2 Hour SP~

CS TV Asa Channel March 24th (Sun) 12:00PM~

Thank you for following.. Instagram💙🩵

✍🏻Tokyo Sports note Series I'll tell you more about the 13 in Morning Musume '24

Announcement of Series Graduation in March

🪩Spring Tour Has Been Decided Morning Musume '24 Concert Tour Spring MOTTO MORNING MUSUME

We'll be going around the country from March 16th!

🪩HinaFest March 30th and 31st at Makuhari Messe

🪩JAPAN JAM Morning Musume '24 will be performing on May 3rd!

⚾️《LIVE DAYS！～Exciting Big Exhibition Match～》 June 2nd(Sun), after the Hokkaido Ham Fighters vs. Yokohama DeNa Baystars match, Morning Musume '24 will be having a special mini live!

.👗👠 Aoyama Clothing x Morning Musume '24

📻Morning Musume '24 Morning Jogakuin ~Houkago Meeting~

Airs Every Saturday, On Radio Nihon at 12:00AM~

Past Broadcast Episodes Are Available →Program Details

Yamazaki Mei's Panda-san Daisuki!! ~Expressing Love Towards My Favorite Panda-san♡ ver.~ in Adventure World

Yamazaki Mei's Panda-san Daisuki!! Mei-chan's Holiday. Adventure World with Oda-san and Ishida-san

see you ayumin <3

#Ishida Ayumi #Morning Musume '24 #Morning Musume #Takeuchi Akari #Hashisako Rin #Kishimoto Yumeno #Hello! Project #Translation #Blog

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burpenterprisejournal · 17 days ago

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MMM IN ACUD

2025/06/13 MMM BEYER / CARROLL / KÄÄRIÄINEN SugarCandyMountain Studios Berlin - DE

On Friday, June 13th, SugarCandyMountain Studios host an evening of improvised and experimental music with:

BEYER–CARROLL–KÄÄRIÄINEN Jukka Kääriäinen – electric guitar Roy Carroll – electroacoustic media Kriton Beyer – daxophone, fx

MMM Mat Pogo – voice, electronics Matthias Koole – electric guitar Marcello S. Busato – drums

Venue: SugarCandyMountain Studios Address: Veteranenstraße 21, 10119 Berlin Access through the interior courtyard, door on the right, 2nd floor Doors: 7:30 p.m. Music: 8:00 p.m. Admission: suggested donation 10-15 EUR

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Kriton Beyer is a Greek-German musician and composer, who – as a performer and improviser – mainly works with the harmonium and the daxophone. He studied musicology in Greece where he collaborated with a variety of local music groups as well as musicians like Sakis Papadimitriou and Floros Floridis. In 2004 he moved to Berlin, where he got heavily involved in the improvised music scene of the city. Since then he has worked with many musicians like Phil Minton, Audrey Chen, Steve Noble, Fred Lonberg-Holm, Axel Dörner, Liz Kosack, Kresten Osgood, Tristan Honsinger, Kazuhisa Uchihashi, Tomomi Adachi, Richard Scott, Willi Kellers, Matthias Bauer, Antonis Anissegos, Olaf Rupp, Alexei Borisov, Els Vandeweyer, Harri Sjöström, Nicola Hein and Liz Allbee, dancers like Yuko Kaseki in interdisciplinary performance projects like “enLIGHTenment” and visual artists like Akiko Nakayama. Kriton Beyer founded the “Fragmentation Orchestra“, is a member of the electroacoustic trio “uproot” and the ensembles “Redox Reaction” and FDBK EXPT. In his work with the harmonium, Kriton Beyer uses both the natural sound of his instrument and “traditional” playing techniques as well as preparations, objects and extended techniques, while his daxophone play is characterized by a very personal musical and sonic aesthetic, and an unconventional technique, also supported by the subtle use of electronics. As an improvising musician, he has performed throughout Europe. His compositions are usually characterized by conceptualism. Kriton Beyer has also conceived and commissioned the music software CinePrompt®, which was specially developed for the use for live musical performance and live recording to films. Kriton Beyer also curates and manages the concert series and record label “The Procrustean Bed”, dedicated to Experimental & Improvised Music. https://www.kritonbeyer.com/

Jukka Kääriäinen is a Finnish guitarist and sound artist speciliazed in improvised, experimental and contemporary music. During his career, he has been involved with range of musical genres from world music to classical music but has been dedicated to sound art and experimental music for the past years. He is an active member of the contemporary music ensemble Sähkökitarakvartetti and has collaborated with many different constellations and as a solo act. Kääriäinen has performed with musicians like: Teppo Hauta-aho, Kalle Kalima, Harri Sjöström, Veli Kujala, Paul Pignon, Mikko Innanen, Lauri Hyvärinen, Rieko Okuda, Pauli Lyytinen and Emilio Gordoa. He has also appeared on international festivals such as: Sipoon Äänet Festival (2022, Sipoo), Jauna Musika Festival (2021, Vilna), Kontula Electronic (2020, Helsinki), Sola-festivaali (2019, Helsinki), Musica Nova (2019, Helsinki). Kääriäinen released numerous recordings, like Teppo Hauta-aho & Jukka Kääriäinen - Winter Suite, CS Records (2018) and Kalmisto Trio – Meeting, Karkia Mistika Records (2017). During the year 2022 he released 5 solo albums: “still haven’t got the humor”, “Rust”, “Saari” “Reverence” and “Häiriö”, as well as the albums “I” and “II” with Sähkökitarakvartetti and the album “Radial” with Guillaume Gargaud. With Annika Fuhrmann Kääriäinen co-composed three sound art compositions comissioned by the Finnish National Radio Yle1 “Sumu”, “Pyörät ne pyörivät ympäri” ja “Otteita Karanteeniäänipäiväkirjasta”. www.jukkakaariainen.com

Roy Carroll is an Irish musician and composer, based in Berlin. He works primarily with electroacoustic media; which includes transducers, synthesis, feedback, audio recordings, amplification, software, - auditory and psychoacoustic phenomena even. With these materials, Carroll instigates processes that ruthlessly investigate timbre, articulation, gesture, form and so on. Feedback, the horror of an instrument hearing itself, is a recurring component of Carroll's work, creating multi-layered forms that continually renegotiate the transformation of electrical audio signals into disturbed air. www.roycarroll.com

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Mat Pogo is an Italian vocalist and graphic artist from Rome currently residing in Berlin. He started his musical activities in the mid-1980s as a singer in several free form rock’n’roll bands such as Dum Dum Power, Electric Citizens, Box of Surprises, I Tifoni, Feten7 and Minga. In 1990 he was one of the founding members of the “Burp Enterprise” multimedia collective originally based in Florence and has expanded internationally, developing a music label and publishing house called Burp Publications responsible for some of the most critically acclaimed projects of the Italian underground scene. Beside his practice of spontaneous songwriting, Mat Pogo moved from avant experimental rock to more abstract forms of music and founded Jealousy Party together with percussionist / DJ Roberta WJM Andreucci and reed player Edoardo Ricci in 1995. Jealousy Party is considered to be one of the most advanced musical units in Italy mixing a unique and individual style with soul, improv, avant rock, noise and error music. His solo set features his voice, a microphone and some electronic devices. As a vocalist Mat developed his own personal language using his experience as a rock singer, improvisor and radio artist where music, sounds, anecdotic and narrative elements fuse constantly. Weird processed vocal eruptions, intense screams, occasional words, pitched mouth cavity noises and electronic textures melt together in a very expressive way and often with a delicate sense of humor. Mat Pogo performed among many others with: Jacopo Andreini, Paolo Cantù, Renato Cordovani, Carlo Actis Dato, John Dieterich, Francesco Donnini, Bruno Dorella, Luc Ex, Augusto Forti, Gi Gasparin, Gianni Gebbia, Stefano Giust, Xabier Iriondo, Roy Paci, Claudio Parodi, Jean Hervé Peron, Chad Popple, Ed Rodriguez, Michael Renkel, Eugenio Sanna, and Nicolas Wiese and collaborated in theatre/dance projects with the Italian company Kinkaleri and the Dutch based choreographer Giulia Mureddu. Other projects include the abstract / ambient songwriting experiment PENATES, the meta grind free core trio B UNIT together with sound artist JD Zazie and drummer Peter Schlewinski, the Dj collective SISTEMI AUDIOFOBICI BURP, the noise & rhythm unit POKEMACHINE together with multinstrumentalist Anders Hana, an impro duo with Ignaz Schick and the dance piece Mighty MatPogo by Giulia Mureddu. https://www.burpenterprise.com/burp/units/mat-pogo/

Matthias Koole is a Brazilian guitarist, active in various areas of experimental music. Brazilian guitarist Matthias Francisco Koole’s practice shifts between improvisation and various forms of collaboration in written music and multidisciplinary projects. His groups include ICNISP - Institute for Certified Nomadic Illicit Sonic Practices with Marina Cyrino; the guitar duo Oh Mensch with Kobe Van Cauwenberghe, the experimental music trio Infinito Menos with Henrique Iwao and Mário Del Nunzio; the quartet Hiccup, with JD Zazie, Tony Elieh and Marina Cyrino; Matter Kori with Teresa Riemann. Matthias is a member of the Brazilian experimental music label/production house Seminal Records. In Belo Horizonte, he organised the improvisation series QI - Quartas de improviso together with Henrique Iwao. In the past, he was a founding member of the guitar quartet ZWERM. He has played or is playing as a freelance musician in ensembles such as the Ictus Ensemble, Champ d’Action, United Instruments of Lucilin, Brussels Philharmonic, BIT20 Ensemble, Opera Lab Berlin. . . Recent recordings include oê [39:08], a solo album on acoustic guitar, Calisthenics, by ICNISP (with Marina Cyrino), Quem Indica, with two recordings of the improvisation series Quartas de Improviso, the solo improvisation CD 34:46, released by Seminal Records, and Disputa e Guerra no Terreiro de Roça de Casa de Avó with Marco Scarassatti, Henrique Iwao and Marina Cyrino, released by OEM Records. Matthias received a scholarship award at the International Summer Courses for New Music in Darmstadt (2010) and was a resident at the Akademie Schloss Solitude, Stuttgart (2013-2015). He finished his guitar studies in Ghent, Belgium, with Tom Pauwels. He completed his PhD at the Universidade Federal de Minas Gerais (UFMG) in Belo Horizonte, Brazil, with percussionist Fernando Rocha and ethnomusicologist Lúcia Campos as supervisors. In 2021 Matthias was a scholarship holder at Labor Neunzehn, Berlin as part of the Weltoffenes Berlin programme of the Berlin Senate. End of 2022, Matthias was a resident at Universidade Federal de Paraíba in João Pessoa, Brazil to work with the group Artesanato Furioso. Matthias lives and works in Berlin. https://matthiaskoole.com/

Marcello S. Busato is an Italian musician, composer and performer. He began studying classical trumpet and later guitar, piano and drums. Since 2002 he lives in Berlin, where he started collaborations with many musicians exploring different musical styles, but focusing especially on experimental music, free jazz, noise and radical improvisation. Member of the quartet Sink with Andrea Ermke, Arthur Rother and Chris Abrahams, the trio Votomt with Ignaz Schick and Louis Rastig, the duo XING/Busato with Wojtek Bajda. He also performed with Tobias Delius, Els Vandeweyer, Christian Meaas Svendsen, Pacho Dávila, Leonid Soybelman, Hüzün, Mat Pogo, Yvan Volochine, Jealousy Party, Christof Kurzmann, Margareth Kammerer, G.W.Sok, Axel Dörner, Martí Guillem among others. He composed and performed music for the radio, cinema, theater and dance. Some Labels: Trost, Impro music from Japan, Acid cobra, Solaris empire, Mikroton. https://marcellosilviobusato.tumblr.com

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ACUD is an open art and event venue with cinemas, a theater, a club, a gallery, an event space, a bar, ateliers and a recording studio. While some of the units operate independently, they frequently collaborate on cross-genre projects and festivals. ACUD is a hub for experimental and unusual formats that transcend conventional categories located in the very center of Berlin. The program is a mix of in-house productions and projects that are submitted to the venue from outside and realized jointly.

The event is going to take place in the SugarCandyMountain Studios at the ACUD cultural center. https://sugarcandymountain.com/

Photo: K.B.

#live #concert #mat pogo #mmm #top

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nordalanche · 4 months ago

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Not sure what you’ve read, and what you qualify as new, so most of these recs are from 2021-2022 when I read a lot more queer fiction on the regular but here are some recs that were new two or three years ago / are in a series that is still in progress now because I can’t help myself and I feel your pain:

I’ve been really enjoying The Dark Rise series by CS Pacat. Books 1 and 2 are out, 3 is in the works, and I’m not sure if it’s meant to be longer. High fantasy, definitely a bit dark, with a whole host of queer characters. Definitely not romance, but there are subplots with it. Super, super plot driven (but then again, so is everything they write. Older, but if you haven’t read Captive Prince and you want a lot of complicated plot, I’d give that a read as well.) Does some really, really excellent work with playing with and manipulating fantasy tropes in unexpected ways.

The Feverwake (book 1 Fever King) was also a bit dark, sci-fi, with queer characters, but is also quite plot driven with romantic-ish subplots. Set in a futuristic (not technically America, there were wars) where a plague kills most people and grants the survivors supernatural abilities. A lot of political machinations.

Six of Crows and co. has probably been beat to death, but I love them dearly. (Personally I think they’re better than the Grisha trilogy by a long shot.)

Gideon the Ninth, as well — I really enjoyed it, queer characters but mostly plot (romantic subplot) futuristic sci-fi fantasy, although I can’t speak to the rest of the series because I haven’t read it lol. Though I think it’s still be published?????

Lesser well known, and published more than a few years ago I think, but the small change series by Roan Parrish. Really about the characters working through a lot of emotional conflict (I really love the second one: Invitation to the Blues about a depressed concert pianist trying to restart/recover his life. Really struck a cord with me as a creative.)

In books where romance (and smut) and plot tend to move in more equal turns but they’re a little more niche, maybe? :

Read the Magpie Lord series by KJ Charles a few years back and really loved it. Historical fantasy with political and magical machinations.

More of a fluffy read in terms of writing construction, but if you want plot, boy does it deliver: Soulbound series by Hailey Turner and San Amaro Investigations by Kai Butler. Urban fantasy, both incredibly complex plots. I’ll throw in the Wolf at the Door series by Charlie Adhara (also a werewolf fbi kinda thing.)

Anyways, yes: these recommendations get older the further down the list you go (my apologies.) I hope you haven’t read a few of them, and maybe they are a vibe (and that I’m remembering them well enough lol)

Ahhhhh!!!! Thank you so much!!!!!

I’ve read the Dark Rise books, Six of Crows, and all the Gideon the Ninth books but everything else is new and a lot looks so so so good!!! All up my alley!!!!

Again thank you so much for responding to my incoherent questions with this!!!

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csconcertseries · 5 years ago

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Captain Swan Concert Series Master List

At long last the master list! This event was a lot of fun to run and participate in, I know it’s been a long time but I’m glad I was finally able to put this together so we can all revisit these wonderful works!

FIC

King of My Heart w/art : By @artistic-writer , rated E Keys in Time w/art : By @clockadile rated G Two Doors Down : By @spartanguard rated M Heart and Soul w/art : By @thejollyroger-writer Start to Melt in Your Clutch : By @darkcolinodonorgasm rated T A Different Kind of Fun w/art: By @hollyethecurious rated M For the Love of a Princess : By @scientificapricot The Pianist : By @sherlockianwhovian New Year’s Eve : By @stahlop rated G You’re Always 16 Hours Ahead : By @shireness-says rated T Heart Without a Home : By @ohmakemeahercules rated M Back to Us By: @klynn-stormz

ART

Bubbly - Aesthetic : By @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 Home - Gifset : By @a-cynical-dreamer-world All I Need - Gifset : By @a-cynical-dreamer-world Wanted U - Illustration : By @carpedzem

PLAYLISTS

Until I Met You : By @shipsxahoy Heart Without a Home : By @ohmakemeahercules & You Love me For It : By @shipsxahoy My Love I’m in Love with You : By @scientificapricot Long Sail Home : By @clockadile

SONG

My Jolly Sailor Bold : Sung By @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713

#captain swan #cs fanart #cs ff #ouat ff #ouat fanart #cscs #captain swan concert series #CS Concert Series #cs crew #ouat #once upon a time #killian jones #emma swan

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a-cynical-dreamer-world · 5 years ago

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Home

[x]

@csconcertseries

#CSCS #captain swan #cs graphic #emma swan #killian jones #ouat #ouatedit #emmaswanedit #hookedit #CS concert series #captain swan concert series #mine

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clockadile · 5 years ago

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My own contribution for the @csconcertseries. I wanted to go for a looser style for painting and actually tried my hand at writing for the first time since high school, which came out as pretty much just pure fluff. Enjoy!

Keys in Time Rated: G Killian revisits an old skill with some prompting from his girls.

...

Much to Killian’s dismay, his daughter Hope had become enamoured with every version of the Peter Pan story that could be found. He could almost feel better about it by Emma’s assurance that she just liked seeing Captain Hook on her television screen if it weren’t for the insulting depictions they held of his person.

Yet another version was playing in the living room while Killian did his best to ignore it and focus on his reading. He’d seen enough versions of himself to know this one wouldn’t be any more flattering, not that he’d be able to avoid giving it attention for long.

“Papa!”

And there it was. Disregarding Emma’s poorly hidden snort, Killian looked up from his book and saw his little girl excitedly pointing at a man with a hook and a ridiculous hat on the screen, a big grin on her face as she looked back at her father to make sure she had his attention.

“Yes Love, I see.”

Hope giggled in response, her little arms waving frantically in acknowledgement before her attention was once more on the movie. For a moment anyways.

“Papa! Papa!”

“Yes love?”

“Papa play?”

Killian looked back at the screen his little girl was pointing at, and frowned. His doppelgänger was plucking away at a piano. The hook wobbling it’s way over the low keys dramatically.

“No baby, we don’t have a piano.” Emma intervened, catching onto her husband’s shift in mood. His eyebrows had drawn in and his gaze sat unfocused on a point unseen to the present.

Hope was thankfully mollified by the answer for now, though Emma’s curiosity was now piqued.

“Hey” she called softly, pulling Killian out of his daze. “Did you? Used to play?”

“Aye” he smiled sadly. “But I stopped, before even,” he lifted his hooked arm “well. Let’s just say there weren’t many pianos out at sea.”

“Is this another thing I’d be surprised they teach you in the navy?”

“Yes actually.” he replied with a chuckle. “It was back at the academy when we’d first gained our commission.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, it was a rather prestigious school for high society lads. We were expected to learn to be proper, educated gentlemen, when we weren’t whacking each other with canes behind the teacher’s back anyways.”

“Would you play again? If you had the chance?”

“I don’t know. It’s been so long and, it wouldn’t be the same.”

It was a few weeks later when the conversation had faded to nothing more than another cherished detail Emma had uncovered of Killian’s life when they were at Regina’s place for dinner and Hope spotted it in the sitting room.

“Papa, Papa! Look!”

Of course Regina had a grand piano. He doubt she ever played it, though he wouldn’t be surprised if she knew how. It seemed like the kind of skill Cora would want to show off.

“Papa play?”

Oh right. That.

“How about Mum plays with you huh baby girl?” asked Emma, scooping up their daughter and placing her on the bench. Killian followed. Curious to see what skills his wife had with the instrument, and not wishing to miss his daughter’s first encounter with it.

“Now let’s see. I don’t really remember much but, I think I remember this.” his wife mused as she rolled her knuckles over the keys. Killian laughed.

“What is that love?”

“I don’t know, it’s the knuckle song. You play it with your knuckles.”

“Yea Papa.” Hope agreed as if she’d known this her whole life, her little fingers reaching to try to imitate her Mum and making a racket.

“That’s not how-“

“Well how about this then?” Emma continued switching to two fingers hopping around the keyboard, prompting Hope to giggle happily. Emma grinned at him in challenge. He knew she wouldn’t make him play if he didn’t want to, but she was hardly playing fair challenging him like that. She knew he couldn’t resist a challenge.

“Alright, alright, let’s see then.” he smiled, lifting his hand to rest on the keys. Muscle memory, old as it was, brought his hook up to hover over the ivory as well.

Hope was ecstatic.

“Papa play!”

Killian took a breath, and then he did. Letting his hand pluck out half an old sea ditty. It started a little rough, as he shook the rust off the old memories, but the melody came. He thought it sounded a little empty, but the space was soon filled by his daughter’s laughter and Emma’s smile.

#CSCS #CS FF #cs fanart #ouat fanart #captain swan #ouat art #my arts #my fic #cs concert series

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shireness-says · 5 years ago

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You’re Always 16 Hours Ahead

Summary: Killian Jones never expected to hit it big, but the opportunity of a lifetime pulls him away from home and the woman he pines for. Can a friendship that just might be more survive a concert world tour?

(With wide eyes and faith

That life could never pull us apart if we were ok

But distance kills the best of intentions…)

(~2.6K. Rated T for language. Also on AO3)

~~~~~

A/N: I’m so excited to share my contribution to the @csconcertseries! This is an idea I’ve had for a long time, and I’m excited to finally bring it to life. This is inspired by “Jet Lag” by Frank Turner, and also includes references to “Polaroid Picture,” “Get Better,” and “Plain Sailing Weather.” I’ve definitely been blasting his stuff all month long and dragging other people with me (looking at you, @thejollyroger-writer). Super thanks, as always, to @snidgetsafan for her beta talents.

Without further ado: Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

POP PRINCESS ANNOUNCES WORLD TOUR

Great news, Fairy Fans: Wildly popular pop music star Tink is planning a world tour. The international exhibition will be undertaken to promote her latest album, “Neverland No More”. Tink will be joined on her tour by recent up-and-comer Killian Jones, who will serve as her opening act. Jones has captured the world’s ear with his recent hit single, “Green Eyes,” which continues to climb the pop charts. A full schedule of planned concerts can be found at…

September 17th

Dear Emma,

I know it’s only been a few days, but I already miss you and Henry. Los Angeles is loud, and congested, and so much unlike Storybrooke that it scares me a little. But when that happens, I try to remember our bench on the docks, and it helps ground me. I’ve got a picture of us out there taped to the inside of my guitar case, just as a reminder that even if everything changes, I’ve always got something to come home to.

You didn’t think I was kidding when I said I’d write, did you? Mark my words, I intend to write you from every stop. To hell with blocking or setup or rehearsals or whatever, I’ll be sitting on an amp backstage writing you.

You must tell me everything, Swan - don’t you dare get skimpy with the details in your next email! I know it’s been less than a week, but I’m sure there’s something from the gossip mill. Has Liam secured a new Friday act yet? I’m sure he won’t find anyone nearly as talented (or handsome!) as yours truly, but I can’t imagine he and Robin are leaving that slot open in my honor. Tell me, how much do you think he’ll groan if I send back a signed world tour poster?

I’ve got to go - something about the lights. Such is the life of a rock star, isn’t it?

Your own personal celebrity (and best friend),

-Killian

September 19th

Liam -

Brother, you’ve got to stop calling every few hours. I know you’re bored and your life is empty without me, but this is getting ridiculous. Half the road crew thinks you’re my father. Do you intend to run up your phone bill when the tour crosses the ocean? I love you, but please don’t go broke on my behalf. Now is the time to wean yourself off me.

All teasing aside, I do appreciate the calls, not to mention everything else. If you hadn’t insisted on making those demo tapes and forcing me to Boston and any venue or bar that would take me, I wouldn’t be here today.

You’d have been so proud to see me - I must have been sweating gallons, but I got up on stage in front of that massive crowd and I did it, sang my pieces. The noise of all those people practically shakes your bones, Liam - and that wasn��t even half the noise that Tink elicited! I don’t know how she does it. I suppose I’ll find out, though, won’t I? After all, this is my big break, as long as I don’t screw it up too badly.

I’m sure I’ll talk to you later - in the meantime, say hello to the lads for me.

-Killian.

P.S. Keep an eye on Emma and Henry for me, would you? I know you’ve already promised, but I worry. I owe you one, brother.

October 2nd

Emma -

Hello from Seattle! It is just as rainy as promised, and I’ve lost count of the coffee shops. Part of that might be the Starbucks, though. I swear, they’re like a plague, popping up all over the place.

The tour is still going well. I might even get used to this tour bus life! I miss you all, of course - my love especially to Henry - but it’s exhilarating, getting up on stage every night in front of so many people. The crowds are huge, Swan, larger than I ever could have imagined. I know they’re mostly here for Tink, but there’s always applause and a handful of people singing along to my songs, and it’s the best kind of adrenaline. Leaves me with an itch in my fingers and a new song stuck in my head. I’ll work it out later.

I’m so happy to hear that Henry is doing so well in kindergarten; he’s always been a little social butterfly. I’ll bet that he makes tons of friends; I’m glad he loves it so far. I’ll call soon, I promise.

Yours,

-Killian

October 20th

Swan -

Happy Birthday, darling! Technically, I’m mailing this a few days early, but I hope it’ll reach you just in time. I’m sorry to be missing the festivities this year - just know that I’ll be thinking of you all day, wishing I was there to celebrate with you. Keep an eye out for a package or two - and before you even try to protest that I don’t need to, they’re just little things, love. Stuff that made me think of you. Tokens of my affection, if you will. It’s your birthday, anyways - live a little! Let us spoil you for once.

Texas is… less than impressive. Large? Yes, in a way that feels almost performative. It’s missing some kind of charm, at least to me. Then again, I’ve never been much for cowboy hats; maybe that’s the real problem, here. Regardless, I’d gladly take the northeast fall colors any day.

Make a good wish, alright? I hope the year to come is as wonderful as you are.

Yours,

-Killian

November 26th

Dear Henry -

Happy Thanksgiving! Did you have a good holiday? Did Granny make enough macaroni and cheese for you to eat your fill? I know that’s your favorite.

Thank you for watching the parade! I was really excited to be in it too. Sadly, the powers that be wouldn’t let me take home the Snoopy balloon for you, but I did manage to get a couple of handfuls of confetti for you. It should be inside this envelope. You would have loved it, Henry - the confetti was flying everywhere and I saw so many really cool floats up close and personal. We’ll maybe have to go together in a couple of years, aye? We’ll ask your mum.

Draw lots and lots of turkeys for me, little mate - I know you’re really good at that. And give your mum and Liam a great big hug for me!

Love,

-Killian

CELEBRITY FILE EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH EVERYONE’S NEW FAVORITE HEARTTHROB - KILLIAN JONES

… In researching this piece, I heard over and over about how personal Jones’ lyrics were, how well they captured every feeling and variation of being in love. Every fan out there seems to feel like his words are written just for them, like a window into their soul. So when I finally met with the man himself, I couldn’t help but ask: Was there anyone who inspired such lyrical devotion? Some woman - or man! - in his own life who inspired such moving words?

“You know, the thing I’ve always liked in listening to music on my own is being able to recognize a little bit of myself in someone else’s words,” Jones told me in response to the question. “It always made me feel a little less alone - a little more connected to other people, I guess, to hear that they experienced or saw things the same way I do. It’s very rewarding to hear that people feel the same way about my music. I’m of the opinion that music should be a universal experience, and when I write, I write words that I hope other people can see a bit of themselves in.”

Something about that blush and the nervous scratch behind his ear that fans know so well tells me he’s holding out on us…

December 11th

Dearest Swan -

The holidays have crept right up on us, haven’t they? Do us both the favor of imagining me singing that sickly-sweet “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” nonsense, because it’s true. December 20th. Mark your calendar, and don’t blame me if I fall asleep on the car ride home from the airport. It’s all this travel, you see - takes it right out of you. You can’t blame a man for that, love.

(Also, please ignore that I’ll be flying in from Chicago. I still plan to claim jet lag. That one hour difference, love, it’s a real killer.)

Is there anything in particular that Henry especially wants this year? I’ve done my best to pick up things for you and Liam and everyone else, but I know the lad’s tastes change practically hour to hour, and he’s probably got a whole list stashed somewhere. I want to get him something he’ll really like instead of just wandering through the toy store in a panic, if at all possible.

Counting the hours until I see you again,

-Killian

January 8th

Emma -

I don’t even know where to start. How can I properly apologize for what happened at New Year’s? I struggle, because I can’t truthfully say that I regret it. I don’t think I’ve made it a secret all these years that I’m helplessly enthralled by you and everything you are. There are words - big words, three words - that rattle around in my heart every day, but I know you’re not willing to hear them yet. I’ll be here, love, whenever you’re ready.

I know you’re scared, Emma, but I’m begging you - just talk to me. We can forget all about this, if that’s what you want, but you’ve got to talk to me. Every day I don’t hear from you is just a little bit harder. I’ll follow your lead, whatever you say.

You’ll always be my best friend, Swan - no matter what else happens.

-Killian

January 20th

I kissed her, Liam.

I’m sorry; that’s not much of a way to start a letter is it? How are you? Everything going well?

But I’m sorry, I’ve got to talk about this and get it off my chest. Because I kissed her, Liam. Emma. I kissed Emma. And then it kind of… all went to shit. I guess that’s just like me, isn’t it? Give me one fine day of plain sailing weather, and I can turn it to stormy seas.

And I know where she’s coming from, really - I know better than almost anyone about how she’s been left behind too many times. As much as it hurts to have this sudden radio silence, I know she’s just trying to protect herself. But I love her, Liam. I’ve loved her forever. This isn’t just “distance makes the heart grow fonder,” or something stupid like that. I should have acted a long time ago. I should have done a thousand different things, but here we are.

If you have any ideas of how to fix this, please, let me know. I hope you’re having a happier new year than I so far.

-Killian

February 2nd

Dear Emma -

I can’t tell you how good it was to hear from you the other day. You may think that there’s nothing interesting about all the goings-on in the bar, but that particular kind of nothing is soothing. It’s like a little piece of home in every email. Besides, I know that the bar is never quite as boring as we always joked. And I’d welcome any word from you anyways, after how much I’ve missed you.

We’re in Paris right now. It’s gorgeous, truly - I’ll have to bring you and the lad back sometime. I know you’d call me a nerd, but I’ve been hitting museums - the Louvre, the Musee d’Orsay, the Rodin museum, etc. I made sure to do the Eiffel Tower too, just for you, even though the crowds were utterly terrible. Stuffed my face with pastries too, all on your behalf.

(Okay, you caught me, Swan - the pastries are for me too. The croissants, Swan! The bread! I surely won’t fit in my trousers if we’re here any longer, but I can’t regret it. I swear, I’d ship some back to you if I thought they’d survive the trip.)

We’ll have to schedule time for a call home soon - I find myself so often longing for your voice. I love your emails, but there’s something to a phone call that can’t be replaced.

Yours,

-Killian

March 11th

Dear Henry -

Thank you for sending me that drawing! I love it. It’s taped to the inside of my guitar case now, where I can look at it every day. I especially like the yellow you used for your mum’s hair. You’ll have to thank her for scanning that for us on my behalf. That’s good form, you know.

I’m in Amsterdam right now. Your mum or Liam can show you where that is on a map; it’s in Western Europe. I went someplace I think you’d love today; it’s called Madurodam. It’s this entire miniature city, with little airplanes and zoo animals and everything. I had a lot of fun exploring it, and I think you would too.

A graduation, you say? From kindergarten? I wouldn’t miss it for the world, lad. I’ll be home, no matter what.

I miss you, Henry, and your mother too. It always brightens my day to see an email from you.

Sealed with a great big hug,

-Killian

April 21st

Emma -

London is rainy and cold. I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything different, but here I am, surprised all the same. It’s hard to convince myself to go do any of the tourist-y things when the weather is like this, so I’m stuck inside, writing to you. Not that that’s ever a hardship...

You’d hardly recognize me with this get-up I’ve found myself in for the show tonight - the heavy eyeliner especially. Gone are the days of some beat-up tee - though I think you might like the vest. Getting dressed feels like slipping into some other persona. I worry a lot of the time about whether I’ve changed beyond recognition, or if I’m still the same person you know. That’s the man I want to be, you know - someone you can be proud of, but somehow still that same poor bastard in the bar, just trying to write words that mean something. I hope I am. But you know how it goes - distance kills the best of intentions.

I miss you terribly, Swan, and Henry too. Hell, even Liam. These letters are all that ground me some days, I fear. On the loneliest nights, I reread your emails and imagine you’re talking to me instead. It’s always just a too-brief daydream, unfortunately.

I’ve grown rather maudlin, haven’t I? That won’t do at all. I blame it on the rain. Here’s a happier note for us both: I’ll be home late next month. Perhaps I’ll have to make one of those paper chains Henry’s so fond of; if I do, I’ll include a picture with my next letter.

Counting the days. Until then -

Love, Killian

May 17th

My Swan -

By the time you get this, I’ll be home with you and the lad again, and hopefully have already told you in person everything I want to say now:

I love you, Emma. Every word of every song is for you. I’ve loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you, and no time or distance or groupie is ever going to change that. I’m yours, love, body and soul. And I have faith that life can never tear us apart as long as that’s true.

I’m coming home, love. And my home is you.

Yours (in every sense),

-Killian

BREAKING NEWS: KILLIAN JONES’ SECRET LOVER?

Bad news for all the fangirls and Killy-Tink shippers out there: Bad boy popstar Killian Jones appears to be off the market. The singer, 27, was spotted locking lips with an unidentified blonde at the Storybrooke Memorial Gardens, just outside of Boston, where Jones calls home. Sources have long speculated that Jones has a secret girlfriend back home, and this just might be confirmation. Check back as this story continues to develop. StarWatchOnline remains YOUR #1 celebrity news site…

~~~~~

Tagging: @snowbellewells, @profdanglaisstuff, @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @teamhook, @ohmightydevviepuu, @optomisticgirl, @spartanguard, @thisonesatellite, @let-it-raines, @scientificapricot, @searchingwardrobes

#cs ff #captain swan ff #cs concert series #Captain Swan #You're Always 16 Hours Ahead #epistolary fic #rockstar!Killian

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thejollyroger-writer · 5 years ago

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Heart and Soul - Part 1 - A CS Concert Series Fic

SUMMARY: Private music teacher Killian Jones wakes one morning to the sound of his ten year old neighbor playing the bane of his existence: the recorder. In order to keep his sanity, he offers to teach Henry to play any other instrument -- though partially because it means he gets to spend more time with Henry's mother, Emma Swan.

TW: mentions of alcoholism, abusive parents, backstory that goes a little deeper than necessary

a/n: This fic was inspired by waking up one morning over the summer to hear my neighbor playing the trumpet -- though, thankfully, Sam is a much better musician than a beginner recorder-player. I complained about it on discord, and bam! this story appeared, a joint effort between myself and Meredith (@captainsjedi) . Even though she was unable to help me finish it because of her busy work schedule, her ideas are riddled through the story, not to mention the incredible art she made for it.

Thanks to @csconcertseries and @clockadile, who gave me a reason to finish this story!

-- -- -- -- -- --

There aren’t many unusual things Killian truly hates.

Sure, he hates things like seeing horrific stories on the news, bigots, and people on the road who don’t utilize their turn signals. But those all seemed fairly normal within the realm of things that are passionately disliked.

The one standout thing he despises, however, is the recorder.

His animosity toward the instrument — if one can even call it an instrument — feels like a betrayal to his career at times. He spends his weekdays teaching both children and adults to play music, helping them discover hidden talents and find as much comfort and happiness within the notes as he does. The piano and the guitar are his most popular contenders among students. But he’s also had a bit of experience teaching violin and harmonica, along with one memorable incident with the drum set in his basement that resulted in several complaints from the neighbors.

Recorders? He intentionally keeps a fair distance from those.

If he’s being honest, it’s probably hindered his career a bit over the past few years. Since he moved to Storybrooke and word got out across the small town that he was a music teacher, he’s had countless parents approach him whose children had brought home recorders from school, asking him to give them lessons to improve their playing and put the rest of the family out of their misery.

Killian has always declined. He’ll offer to help by teaching the child another instrument instead, but recorders are out of the question. It’s simply not worth his time, not when there are so many better options available.

Needless to say, he’s less than pleased when he’s woken up before seven one morning by the sound of “Hot Cross Buns” being played on the dreaded instrument.

Something’s not right. He has to be hearing things, isn’t he? The house to the left of his is vacant, and the one to the right is the home of his neighbor and her son, the latter of whom should be resting as much as he can before the beginning of his school year.

What reason would he have to be playing the recorder this early in the— bloody hell, he thinks to himself. Yesterday was the first school day for the year. He should have remembered considering the extensive adjustments he's had to make to his schedule from lessons over the summer.

Killian doesn't know all that much about Henry Swan and his mother. They'd moved into the house next door last fall and the lad had introduced himself not long after. He knows that Henry is about nine or ten years old, is a student at Storybrooke Elementary School, and is a Star Wars fan, judging by the number of printed t-shirts he's seen him wearing when they come across each other arriving to and leaving their respective houses.

He knows just as much, if not even less, about Emma Swan. Only that she works as a sheriff's deputy for her older brother, and favors beanies and leather jackets during the fall and winter months. Killian assumes that she’s single considering she and Henry are the only two occupants of the house, and he’s never seen any visitors there aside from her family.

Which is a relief, because he's also infatuated with her.

Perhaps that’s a bit of a stretch considering the few interactions they’ve shared. Killian is aware that he doesn’t exactly know her well enough for any type of infatuation to really exist. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s managed to make him feel like an awkward schoolboy who can’t maintain some sense of dignity around a girl.

Their most recent interaction had taken place the Monday prior; he was getting ready for his morning run when Emma returned from what he assumed was the night shift at the sheriff’s station. She’d given him a brief smile and waved as she unlocked her front door. He was so surprised that he tripped and almost fell over his shoelace that he’d forgotten to tie thanks to the unexpected gesture.

(It was hard to tell whether she noticed. He’s hoping the answer is no.)

All of this to say, he likes the Swans. But he’s not sure just how long he’ll be able to tolerate what has to be Henry and his recorder, especially this early in the bloody morning.

Of all the songs in the world, what would bring him to choose “Hot Cross Buns” anyway?

Killian gets his answer a few weeks later. Every afternoon since the end of the school year save one or two (plus a few choice mornings), he’s been treated to the sound of Henry attempting to play a number of different songs, each one a tad more annoying than the last. There’s been “Yankee Doodle,” “Skip to My Lou,” and, oddly enough, “Jingle Bells.”

Something has to be done before Henry tries to learn “Baby Shark.”

He knows he should act his age and learn to embrace his young neighbor’s new hobby. (Or buy a good pair of earplugs.) After all, Henry’s a child, and Killian is glad he’s chosen to dedicate part of his free time to learning music.

But he really needs to choose a different instrument.

It’s what leads him to knock on the Swan’s front door on a Saturday morning a month into the school year. Emma and Henry are both home judging by the yellow Volkswagen Beetle parked in the driveway and the squeaky recorder notes coming from an open window on the second floor.

Emma answers the door. Her blonde hair is tied into a messy knot on the top of her head, and she’s sipping coffee from a bright red mug and wearing running shorts and a faded t-shirt that he’s willing to bet are her pajamas.

He’s never felt more attracted to her. But that’s not the reason he came by.

“Oh, hi, Killian,” she greets him, eyebrows shooting to her hairline. Her reaction makes him consider if he should have given some kind of notice before coming over.

“Good morning, Swan. I’m sorry to bother you this early, but I heard the lad playing and assumed you were both up.”

“Yeah. He’s been at it for a while.” Emma bites her lower lip and glances back and forth from him to the staircase he can just make out behind her. “I’m really sorry if he’s been annoying you with the music recently. I’ve suggested he only play later in the afternoon, especially since I've been trying to have the windows open more often so we don't have to keep running the air conditioning, but he always makes some comment about liking to start his day off with music, and I hate to discourage him when he’s finally found a hobby he’s enjoying.”

Hearing these words causes Killian to feel guilty for being irritated with Henry’s playing, but it also makes the reason he came by seem even more appropriate. “Think nothing of it. I’m quite happy to hear the lad has taken an interest in music. But if you don’t mind my input, lass, I think he could do well with a more versatile instrument that allows him to explore his capabilities even further.” It’s the nicest way he can think of to discourage her son from ever touching a recorder again.

Emma is quiet for a moment, brow furrowing as she contemplates his suggestion. “I don’t think I understand— oh!” A look of realization crosses her face. “That’s right. You’re a musician, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, and he’s great!” The face of Henry Swan pops up behind his mother; he’s already almost as tall as she is. “Hi, Mr. Jones,” he says. Killian smiles at him before he turns back to Emma. “Remember, Mom? He played with some other parents at the last school fundraiser. You were there.”

Killian remembers the night in question vividly. He and a handful of other parents who played music had been asked to perform a selection of songs at Storybrooke Elementary’s annual spring event. (Emma had worn a tight red dress and heels. He was playing the piano and had come close to butchering the opening of their first song when he’d noticed her.)

She remembers the event, too, if the blush on her cheeks is anything to go by. “Yeah, kid, I remember. I just...haven’t had enough caffeine yet this morning.” She takes a long sip from the mug she’s holding as if to prove a point.

“Aye. Well.” Killian pauses, the shift in conversation having made him briefly forget the purpose for his visit. “I was just telling your mother, Henry, that I’m quite glad that you’re interested in playing music. I didn’t know how you felt about possibly trying other instruments as well? Guitar, piano, saxophone, triangle…” he trails off.

He knows the bare minimum about saxophones and doesn’t think Henry would actually want to play the triangle. But he’ll offer to give him harmonica lessons so long as he never touches a recorder again.

Henry considers his suggestion. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Miss Greene just gave us the recorders to take home so we could practice.” (Killian knows of the Miss Greene he is referring to, and resists the urge to message Tink and suggest she not guide her fourth graders in that direction ever again.) “I guess it would be cool to play something else though.” He smiles up at Killian. “Do you think if I tried to play the piano that I could be as good as you someday?”

Killian’s heart swells with pride at the boy’s admiration. Truth be told, he’s been complimented for his talent on numerous occasions by all kinds of people from different walks of life. But something about hearing his abilities praised from a ten year old with excitement in his eyes means more to him than any recognition has in quite some time.

“Perhaps,” he tells Henry. “If you utilize as much practice and dedication as you seem to be doing for that recorder, I’m sure you’ll be a seasoned pianist in no time.”

Killian is so thrilled by the smile that spreads across the lad’s face that he almost misses the wince that crosses his mother’s.

Almost.

“Henry…” she starts, her eyes turned down to the ground, and Killian’s eyes are drawn to her hands wringing in front of her.

“What, mom? Mr. Jones wants to teach me how to play the piano, please let me learn how to play the piano!”

The shadow of a smile crosses over her face, but it doesn’t stay. “It’s not—” she pulls her bottom lip up between her teeth, gently sucking on it for a moment before releasing it and finally raising her eyes to meet Killian’s. “We don’t have a piano, and, well… I don’t think we can afford to get one for him to practice on.”

Henry’s expression, his shoulders, his excitement, physically fall. “But mom, don’t—”

Killian doesn’t even let the boy pose his argument, because he already has the solution — hopefully a solution that works for all three of them. “That’s really not a problem, love,” he says, his smile growing when her bright green eyes start to sparkle with the hope he is giving her son. “As it happens, I just bought a new piano for the studio, so I have one that I’m hoping to get rid of. If you want it, it’s yours.”

It’s not quite the truth: he has his baby grand in his living room, the one that he practices on himself; and he has the two uprights in his studio, one much newer than the other, and as much as he has wanted to replace the older one with an updated model, he hasn’t gotten around to it. Getting rid of one of them wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and it would certainly clear up some space in the basement, though it would keep some of his students from practicing while he’s in another lesson.

But with the smile that grows across Henry’s face, and Emma’s to match it, the little white lie seems like the worst of his problems. Because, gods above, he has it bad for this woman.

Moving the old upright piano from his basement to the Swan’s living room the following Saturday proves much more difficult than lying to them about it. It’s an adventure that requires his brother, Emma’s brother, and Emma — and not, he doesn't fall to notice, the man who he assumes to be Henry’s father, who shows up with the boy right as they’re struggling to get through the front door.

Killian hates him before he even opens his mouth to speak, seemingly the only one to notice his run-down dark green pick-up truck parked by the curb while he stands in Emma’s entryway, trying to keep the piano from tipping over. The only one to notice him, sitting in the driver’s seat and making no motion to get out, even as Henry jumps down from the passenger seat and begins collecting his soccer gear from the back seat.

“This thing really doesn’t look like it would be this hard to move,” Emma’s brother — David — grunts, trying his hardest to help ease the piano up over Emma’s front step.

“Oh, come on, Nolan,” they all hear from behind them, everyone else finally noticing. “You having a little trouble with that?”

“You know, Cassidy,” David calls out, and Killian notices a vein in his forehead popping out as they try to lift it from the bottom and up the single step. “You could always get your ass over here and be helpful.”

Emma laughs from the other side of the piano. “Yeah, right.”

The guy in the truck laughs louder, turning his head in a way that makes Killian sure that he’s staring at Emma. His words make him even more sure: “I prefer the view from where I am, actually.”

“Asshole,” David says, either a bit louder than he meant or exactly as loud as he meant; Killian has a feeling it’s the second.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Henry asks, dropping his soccer stuff on the porch behind Emma. At least the lad has manners, Killian tells himself, finally guiding the piano into the entryway. He gets them from his mother.

“Just stay out of the way, bud,” David tells him between gritted teeth, the three of them pushing the piano the rest of the way through the door.

“Are you the lucky lad who gets to play this piano?” Liam asks once they’ve all made it into the entryway, Killian tossing one last glare towards Henry’s father pulling away from the curb as he closes the front door. When he turns to Henry, he’s beaming.

“Yep! Killian offered to teach me so he could stop hearing me practice the recorder every morning!”

The bluntness of Henry’s statement pulls a laugh from all of them.

Henry takes to the piano like a fish to water, which doesn't surprise Killian in the least. The lad is bright, Killian has learned that just from talking with him during their time as neighbors, but when he is able to play most of his scales and "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" by their second lesson, he knows he has stumbled upon true talent.

And spending time with his mother certainly doesn't hurt, either.

(The way her laughter carries through the open windows when Henry plays through a song brightens up his days in ways he didn't think was possible anymore, as well, but that's a secret he plans to keep to himself for a while.)

But by the end of September, four o'clock on Tuesday comes by slowly, especially since his and Emma's schedules have apparently shifted so they're never coming or going at the same time, but when she answers his knock on her door, he immediately feels a calm wash over him. Sure, he feels his heart in his throat, and when she smiles at him and takes a step back to let him in the house, he can swear that he has never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

Shit, he's in deep.

"Hello, love," he says, returning her smile as he steps through the doorway.

"Hey, Killian," she says back, leaning back against the door to push it shut. "I, uh, thought I already said something to you, but Henry's not here right now."

"Oh." He tries not to let his upset show on his face. This time that he spends with Henry Swan and his mother has become the highlight of his week, but since Henry isn't here, he assumes that means he should go home.

But neither of them move.

He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, as it does every time he's found himself in this gorgeous woman's presence, and he counts the moments that pass through his heartbeats: one, two, three, four.

"Where is the lad, if you don't mind me asking?"

She shrugs, still physically blocking him from leaving. "He's with his dad."

"On a Tuesday night?"

She looks down at the floor, holding out her hands out into her line of vision. "We’re going away next weekend with David and Mary Margaret, so it’s to make up for the time he’s missing. But believe me, he would much rather be here with you."

“I’ve only ever heard him say good things about his father.”

“Do you really think that he would tell a stranger about the bad things?” she snaps, and he reels back immediately, regretting ever bringing it up in the first place. Biting the tip of his tongue between his teeth, he tries to push memories of doing the same thing from his mind, tries not to think of all the times he wanted to tell someone other than his brother of the way he was being treated — and he, of course, remembers the embarrassment that came whenever someone tried to bring it up.

Killian thinks back to the only time he’s met Henry’s father, after helping move the piano into their living room, and he begs once again that this man is nothing like Brennan Jones.

“Of course,” he says finally, his voice soft with regret and the memory of his own father’s drunken escapades, and he swallows the memories down like bile.

A beat passes between them, long enough to make Killian sure that he should simply excuse himself and go home, but it’s the last thing he wants to do.

“Do you want to come in for lunch?” she blurts, her eyes quickly flitting away from his when he tries to find them.

“Pardon?” He’s not thrown off by the question, really, as much as he is the sentiment.

“I just — I feel bad that I forgot to tell you that Henry’s with Neal, and now you don’t have anything to do for the next hour, and I was already reheating some of Marg's soup and making sandwiches, so I can — you know what, just… forget it, forget that I asked—”

“I would love to.”

The look on her face when she finally brings her eyes to meet him makes him sure that his acceptance is the last thing she expects.

Her kitchen is much more welcoming than his, bright and colorful with the fitting smell of chicken soup wafting from it. "Grilled cheese alright?" she asks, moving past him towards the fridge after gesturing for him to take a seat at the table.

"Is it ever not?"

The twinkling laugh she lets out actually seems to brighten the kitchen even further, which he would not have thought possible.

"I knew I liked you for a reason."

If the words affect her nearly as much as they do him, she hides it well, moving daintily through the kitchen to gather the rest of the supplies for the sandwiches. He is thankful for the moment of silence that passes between them, noticing for the first time the soft music coming from a small speaker on top of the fridge — he half-recognizes the song, he thinks from Harry Potter? — as he regains his composure, settles the pounding of his heart in his chest.

"What made you start playing music?"

And just like that, the pounding comes back. It's an innocent question, one that he gets asked a lot, and one he usually brushes over with a mention of his mother and her affinity for the piano. But, in the welcoming warmth of Emma Swan’s kitchen, he finds himself wanting to tell her everything, wanting to tell the whole story for the first time in a very long time, all the broken bottles and broken promises and broken wrists, the happy songs and the sad songs and one too many damn funeral marches, the drunken spat with the drunken man that almost made him lose his hand, and the life of sobriety that he swore himself into, exchanging his hatred for one parent with his love for another.

And then he hears the words coming from his mouth, a poisonous story uninvited into this space, into this wonderful woman's life, but it becomes the edited and abridged version as quickly as he can save it: "My father wasn't the nicest man, though he treated my mum the worst of all of us, and in order to find some semblance of peace in the world, she taught herself how to play the piano. And she taught me, too. Tried to teach Liam, but he was never very good at it. So it became a stress relief for me, and I just kept finding new instruments and learning how to play those to keep myself from spiraling, and when it came time for me to figure out my place in the world, music was the obvious answer."

She hums from her place at the stove, slowly stirring the small pot of soup with a wooden spoon. The movement of her nodding head is small, almost enough that Killian wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t watching her so intently. Somehow, he can tell that she wants to say something, maybe has a story like his own that she’s trying to piece together into a semblance of something normal, and he doesn’t push her.

“I get that,” she says finally, still not turning her attention away from the stove. He doesn’t mind; he’s not sure that he’s ready for that level of intimacy, for looking at each other while sharing their backstories — quite the jump from the casual neighborly hello’s and short conversations they have shared by this point. “That’s why I run, even though sometimes it makes me want to die. It was the only time I had alone when I was in—younger, and it’s still the only time I can do something and not be drowning in my own thoughts the whole time.”

He wonders about her slip of the tongue, the eloquent way she caught herself — and the way she straightened her back slightly as she corrected herself.

But the last thing he wants is for her to question anything that he said, so he’s certainly not going to say anything, only watch her as she reaches into a cabinet to pull out two bowls, pouring some soup in each of them.

“That’s how I am with the piano. When I sit down in front of it, it’s like my whole brain shuts down and there’s nothing except the music. My mum told me she was the same way when I got a bit older, and it explained why I would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and hear her downstairs on the old upright the church donated to us. And Liam says the same thing about being behind the wheel of anything.”

When she finally turns towards him, a bowl of soup in each hand and a smile on her face, he knows that he has finally found someone to understand.

And he could not be more ecstatic that it is Emma Swan.

-- Part Two will post as soon as I finish it! --

tags: @let-it-raines @shireness-says @wellhellotragic @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @teamhook @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @superchocovian @carpedzem @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke -- if you want to be tagged in part two, let me know; if you no longer want to be tagged in my works, just send me a message!

#captain swan #cs fics #ouat #cs ff #ouat ff #cs concert series #music teacher! au #teacher!killian

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shipsxahoy · 5 years ago

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& you love me for it // an emma swan mixtape for killian jones ↳ CS Concert Series // listen here: spotify | @csconcertseries …click images for hi-res

#captain swan #cs concert series #emma swan #fanmix #cs playlist #csconcertseries ahoy #captain swan playlist #captain swan fanmix #playlist ahoy #mine #ntwiccs #HI I AM LATE #TECHNICALLY IT IS STILL TUESDAY PST #ALSO I FIGURED OUT HOW TO EMBED SPOTIFY INTO TUMBLR LOL

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allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 · 5 years ago

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CS Concert Series 2020 @csconcertseries

It starts in my toes, and I crinkle my nose Wherever it goes I always know That you make me smile, please, stay for a while now Just take your time wherever you go

The rain is fallin' on my window pane But we are hidin' in a safer place Under covers stayin' dry and warm You give me feelings that I adore

This is my art piece for the CS Concert Series, inspired by the song “Bubbly” by Colbie Caillat. I love CS domesticity and the way they just find so much comfort in each other, and this song really seems to reflect that well. Give me all the CS smiles and snuggles and any sweet little moments they can find between curses and monsters and villains etc., and let them just enjoy their coffee and pancakes and even their “not talking about the pancakes” pancakes.

#captain swan #cscs #cscs2020 #captain swan concert series #CS Concert Series #cs domesticity #cs fluff #cs aesthetics #aesthetics #bubbly #colbie caillat #music #kayla's aesthetics #my aesthetics

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hotarutranslations · 1 year ago

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Honey and Orange and Blue and Emerald Green

Evening

I was suddenly recommended this while watching YouTube,

"The☆Peace!" I Taught The 2 In King Kong A Dance ☆Ishida Ayumi Perspective☆

Through that,

My heart skipped a beat🫣🫣 I tensed up🫣🫣

lol

Again, everyone definitely check it out, I'll leave the video here🪽

"The☆Peace!" A Dance Lesson From A Current Morning Musume Member

Recently,

…That is, the day before yesterday, yesterday, and today,

I have been thinking and feeling like, If only I had met you earlier🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️ That way of thinking? or, that opinion?

Its like that~~

(super roughly lol)

While thinking, if I had gone with that way of thinking, I would be on a different path now~

But!

Since I was able to meet you through this current path, certainly,

Its fun but difficult!!!

(I know this photo is already around but, I can't decide which photo to post so I'll post this one! lol)

I took this photo, when I saw Duu's live,

The penlights were Harunan's color💛

While watching the live, While most were waving orange,

Maa and I,

were waving emerald green and blue😂 lol

Moreover,

Maa waved blue, and I waved emerald green

lol

Making a strong statement in the audience😂👏🏻 We were the farthest in the back so……😂👏🏻

It was fun!

Tomorrow is my own live,

Its our Osaka performance, Lets have fun🫶🏻

Its here✍🏻

🩵🎫e+ 🩵🎫TicketPia

Also the finale has been decided

May 27th (Mon) Nippon Budoukan .🌏👏🏻

The Ticket FC Advance Reception is undergoing! I'm looking forward to being able to meet!

📺Hello Pro Dance Gakuen Season 11

April 18th 11:30PM~ A Learning From TSUKUSHI-san Adventure🕺

In season 10 we challenged breakin', its reairing continuously! On the 15th, 17th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, #1~#6 all at once! Check out HP for info!

Sendai Broadcast "Ara Ara Kashiko" Every week (Sat) 10:25AM~ Ishida Ayumi Goes~!

I appear once a month as part of the AraKashi Family

The previous shows, and makings, are on OX VIDEO STORE!

Also on YouTube

Sendai Broadcast Ara Ara Kashiko

📺"HinaFest 2024" Before Special ~NamaTake Member Great Gathering 2 Hour SP~

CS TV Asa Channel March 24th (Sun) 12:00PM~

Thank you for following.. Instagram💙🩵

✍🏻Tokyo Sports note Series I'll tell you more about the 13 in Morning Musume '24

Announcement of Series Graduation in March

🪩Spring Tour Has Been Decided Morning Musume '24 Concert Tour Spring MOTTO MORNING MUSUME

We'll be going around the country from March 16th!

🪩HinaFest March 30th and 31st at Makuhari Messe

🪩JAPAN JAM Morning Musume '24 will be performing on May 3rd!

⚾️《LIVE DAYS！～Exciting Big Exhibition Match～》 June 2nd(Sun), after the Hokkaido Ham Fighters vs. Yokohama DeNa Baystars match, Morning Musume '24 will be having a special mini live!

.👗👠 Aoyama Clothing x Morning Musume '24

📻Morning Musume '24 Morning Jogakuin ~Houkago Meeting~

Airs Every Saturday, On Radio Nihon at 12:00AM~

Past Broadcast Episodes Are Available →Program Details

Yamazaki Mei's Panda-san Daisuki!! ~Expressing Love Towards My Favorite Panda-san♡ ver.~ in Adventure World

Yamazaki Mei's Panda-san Daisuki!! Mei-chan's Holiday. Adventure World with Oda-san and Ishida-san

see you ayumin <3

#Ishida Ayumi #Morning Musume '24 #Morning Musume #Sato Masaki #Kudou Haruka #Hello! Project #Translation #Blog

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darkcolinodonorgasm · 5 years ago

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start to melt in your clutch

Summary: All obsessions start innocently. Tiktok, however, is a goddamned rabbit hole, one Emma Swan has fallen into and doesn’t seem to be able to get out of. Enter Killian Jones, who suggests she get that song out of her system. And Emma Swan has never ever backed away from a challenge.

A/N: I can’t thank @csconcertseries enough! Literally, this event kind of saved me from singing Snow Miser’s song all. the. time. And there are a few other songs mentioned in the fic that I’ve been obsessed with, of course. I wrote this fic in just a few days and it was absolutely therapeuthical - it didn’t help me forget all about tiktok, however, but eh, can’t really have it all, can I?

Anyway, big thanks to @clockadile for creating this event, @carpedzem and @shardminds for being awesome supporters and to everyone I’ve sent tiktok videos to and who would probably just want to strangle me. Sorry?

Rated not-even-much-M for mentions of smut at the end. Mostly, this is just crack.

Enjoy!

read on ao3

All obsessions start innocently.

That's what Emma Swan always tells herself to defend her latest addiction: she didn't obsess over colorful Converse on purpose; she buys all books in a series with the same cover style because that's the sensible thing to do, no matter if the new edition is prettier; she does not get obsessed over tv shows or movies because they are mainstream, she watches them because that's what Netflix offers and nothing else attracts her; she doesn't get one song stuck in her head for days to end because that's the song of the moment and everyone's supposed to know it. And, most definitely, she is not obsessed with Killian Jones.

Liar, liar, slutty dress on fire!

She growls at the silky voice of Tom Ellis in her mind.

Well, maybe she is a bit obsessed by him, but it strictly on a professional level.

And Tom is about to open his mouth again.

Alright, not exactly totally professional level. But he doesn't need to know that. He mustn't.

Killian Jones is just… the most talented make-up artist she's ever met. Those kids on YouTube can only dream to be like Killian, and even if some are his age, they still have a long way to go.

The stars call him all the time when he's not on set. Hell, Vanessa Hudgens and Blake Lively have him on freaking speed dial. And god, he got to do Lady Gaga's make up as well, once. Emma would sell her soul for such an opportunity.

Hers is not envy, though. No, Emma knows that's not how it works in the industry: you either are talented or you are not. If you are not, you're out.

Emma is good, very good, but compared to Killian, she's just a kid coloring inside the lines to his Da Vinci: he's the creative one, the one to always come up with new ideas for their stars' make-up.

There's some kind of rivalry between the two of them, but it's mostly a game. In fact, this is probably the problem: there's no serious competition going on, they both are good at what they do and spend so much time joking and entertaining make-up free conversations she would almost say they are friends.

The horror, Tom muses with what would be a sardonic smile.

Flustered, Emma clenches her teeth and rubs her brushes harder under the flowing water.

Alright, dude, she concedes, they are friends. Kind of. Friends from work. They don't really spend time together after work, they don't have the same group of friends even though they’ve had to move to Vancouver and both have apartments in Los Angeles they rent out and he’s been over at her house enough times for her cat to fall in love with him.

Friends. They are friends. Somehow. But platonic ones, they don’t do those things best friends do in books and movies and they are not pining one after the other. That’s… inconceivable.

Liar, lia-

Shut the fuck up, Tom!

She’s grateful she doesn’t snap the brush in her hand. That would mean admitting too many things and none of those would be on the same level of just having to buy a new brush. Adding that to the pile would probably make her cry, though.

Knuckles rasp against the trailer’s door, making her jump. Only one person knocks before entering anywhere, and said person is no one other than the one she can’t get out of her head. Tom Ellis is probably somewhere in her head smiling in delight.

«Come in!» she calls before Killian starts wondering why she’s not answering. Partially because of her nerves, Emma eases back into humming an old song she discovered only because of her newest obsession: TikTok.

No, scratch that, that’s not an obsession: that’s a goddamned rabbit hole.

It started as a joke, mostly, with Ruby sending her videos of funny stuff, animals, pranks, the sort of videos that were once on Vine, but ten thousand times worse. Sweet Jesus, the first few times she spent hours scrolling down, video after video, not even realizing it was well past two in the morning and she had to wake up at six because they were filing in the early morning. Fuck. Her. Life.

It didn’t stop there. Of course it did not.

Steering away from the kids - and boy, do twenty-year-olds look like children - she managed to find several people to follow, but she mostly stays on the infamous “for you” page, and keeps scrolling. At least she doesn’t go through the hashtags. Or rather, she didn’t until last night.

«How do you know that song?»

Of course Mr. Ancient knows it.

She whimpers, immediately embarrassed. «Do I really have to?»

Killian chuckles, settling down in one chair and swirling around to face her where she is, hands behind his head. At the sight, Emma almost lets out another pathetic whimper: it’s unfair the way he just keeps his shirt rolled up his forearms even in winter and has no problem in wandering around like that.

«Aw, come on, Swan, it can’t be that bad.»

It can, trust me. Biting her lip, she turns her focus back on the task at hand. «Have you thought about the make-up for the ball episode? They want it glamour and extravagant and the same time, so I thought to go with-»

«Love,» the word stops her immediately, and she feels her cheek burning, «the song. I don’t doubt your capabilities, I know you’ll do a bloody amazing job on Elsa.»

Fuck you, Emma wants to hiss, and Tom just bends backwards the newspaper he’s reading to look at her with raised eyebrows. She speaks before he can - either of them. «TikTok,» she spits out, almost as if it physically hurts. «It’s this stupid challenge people do in which they do half their face to represent winter and the other half usually looks like something’s aflame.» Emma glances quickly in his direction out of the corner of her eye. «I might have watched several videos. For hours to end. Happy now?»

And here he is, with his soft, sweeter-than-honey smile she simply cannot resist. Thank goodness she can casually lean against the sink as her knees buckle at the sight.

«Very much,» Killian has the audacity to reply.

Forbidding herself to pout like a child, Emma puts away the last brush and goes to the chair right next to Killian’s, swirling on it so she can face him. «Some are good,» she finds herself say, «and it’s fun to see what they come up with when they are not professionals. It’s refreshing.»

There’s a difference between being a good make-up artist and doing make-up tutorials for Halloween looks, because some of those are really, really good, and Emma had to pick up her jaw several times. It’s nothing she couldn’t do, but it’s the inventiveness behind it that surprises and hurts her at the same time.

«How many of them use SPfX make-up?»

Emma snorts. «A few, mostly for blisters or chilblains, but they don’t tend to exaggerate. I’ve seen a few fake icicles, though. Oh, and there was one who turned it into an elf cosplay. Some cosplay the actual characters and yes, Jones, I’ve searched where the song comes from.» She wiggles her eyebrows at him. «How come you know that song?»

Suddenly, his eyes become distant and sad, lost in a fond memory that also brings heartbreak. «Mum used to read the book to Liam and me, the movie came after, but the song still managed to get in my head. It’s been a while since I last heard of it.»

All Emma wants to do is wrapping him in her arms. She knows all too well what being lonely means, and though his brother is alive, he still is miles and miles away. Besides, nothing compares to a mother’s love, not that Emma would know.

Breaking out of his reverie, Killian shakes his head slightly. «You wanted to talk about the ball episode?»

And just likes that, all falls back into place and the sadness melts away.

-/-

«I'm Mister White Christmas, I'm Mister Snow. I'm Mister Icicle; I'm Mister Ten below,» Emma hums to herself, rather quietly, as she works on Elsa’s make-up while Ruby does her magic with the actress’ hair. The moment the last word rolls off her tongue, Emma mutters a curse.

Elsa chuckles, and so does Ruby, who looks at her with arched eyebrows. «I’ve lost counts of how many times I heard you sing or hum or whistle this song. It’s been what, two weeks already since you began?»

«Uhm, yeah.»

It’s ridiculous, really, and not just because one song managed to get stuck in her head for so long, but because of how childish said song is. Not bad, no, just… ah, who is she kidding? Emma Swan can turn into a child as well, with or without a song. Besides, Killian likes her singing it, and sometimes he joins in, so it’s not that bad.

«I know what we need here,» Elsa says typing on her phone before the first strings of Toss a coin to your Witcher fill the trailer. A pained groan echo in the large space, and Emma snickers, knowing everyone has seen the show by now and the song might have just left their systems.

Will curses at them, but his fingers can’t stop tapping to the rhythm while the others join in singing the chorus. Someone’s filming them, and soon they’ll be all over the web, but Emma doesn’t care, they’re helping her, and that’s more than anyone else ever did for her. They truly have become somewhat of a family.

Alas, forgetting one song ain’t that easy.

It doesn’t help that her birthday cake seems to have been baked whilst listening to the song on repeat, with fake shards of ice and rock candies. She hates them so much, almost as much as she loves them.

She’s enjoying a huge slice of cake during lunch in the shades of the trees where they filmed outdoors, the weather keeping up quite nicely, when Killian sits down next to her.

«I was thinking,» he starts while looking at the lake in front of them, legs stretched out.

«Mhm, bad things happen when you do that,» Emma jokes, nudging him with her shoulder, only to be nudged back. At her second nudge, he steals a piece of her cake. «Hey!»

Nothing can stop her breath to catch as her eyes fall on his lips in time to witness his tongue sweeping frosting and chocolate crumbs into his mouth.

Good god. Oh, she’s so fucked.

«As I was about to say,» Killian squints at her, eyes sparkling with a light she knows all too well, «I think you literally have to get that song out of your system.»

Emma splutters, choking on air. Did she hear him correctly? Does he mean-

«Mind out of the gutter, Swan, you can't exactly fuck a song.» Goodness, he's so brazen. «I merely meant doing that challenge yourself.»

Oh. Her eyebrows knit together. She never thought about doing that. Okay, she did, but never seriously and never for too long, definitely not long enough to form a plan.

«That’s actually… not a bad idea at all,» Emma concedes, thoughtful. It would be like scratching an itch, and heaven know she did plenty of that. Used to, not so much anymore.

Killian’s grin is so wide his dimples show and her heart tumbles a bit as it starts racing. «I know it’s not, and tell you what, I’ll raise the stakes: we are going to compete against one another.»

Shock must be clear on her face because his expression shifts from amused to concern and she’s not exactly feeling the absurd amount of muscles attached to her skull. Only when he appears to go up and down ever so slowly she realizes she’s nodding.

The concern doesn’t disappear, but he masks it quickly beneath a daring expression. «That is, unless you think you can’t handle it.»

Emma finds herself scoffing at his bravado. «Perhaps you are the one who can’t handle it.»

The way his eyebrow quirks makes the corners of her mouth twitch.

Oh, it’s so on.

-/-

Her cat loves Killian Jones.

There’s no point in denying it: Lucifer loves Killian almost more than he does Emma.

Right now, in fact, he’s stretched atop the back of the couch, tongue intent in licking Killian’s hair, making strands stick up like stalagmites. From his part, Killian is not bothered at all; in fact, as Emma takes a better look at him, he seems rather comfortable.

Her heart beats a little bit faster at the scene, at how homey it looks…

She swiftly takes a huge gulp of hot cocoa, the burning sensation doing nothing to cancel the image from her head. It is the last thing she needs today, with her house being almost assaulted by their friends because now their challenge has become public knowledge not only among the cast and crew, but the public as well. The audience went nuts over two make-up artists challenging one another, and now it has become some sort of “you have twenty-four hours to vote which one is best in our Instagram stories” with no actual prize in sight.

They are supposed to film the challenge in two different rooms and only two people are allowed inside, none of which being part of the make-up crew. Ruby is also banned from assisting them, but she’ll live and will surely post so many pictures and videos of Lucifer.

In the days leading to the weekend, Emma has formed a plan, never testing it - that’s one of the things they agreed upon - but doing calculations anyway because if she has to lose, she’ll do it with style. Including a time limit to the challenge was not her best idea.

Right at two o’clock, after a lunch Emma prepared - she has some skills, after all - Ruby comes into the living room whistling with two fingers in her mouth to catch their attention, as if it could be impossible to miss her.

She is, of course, filming - and whoever gave her the password to the official account of the show must be crazy, and Emma now knows there will be behind the scenes videos. It is strange for once feeling like the star of the show, but at the same time she doesn’t exactly mind.

«Alright, darlings, here. We. Go! You two, go get ready.» Ruby walks to the couch, scooping up the long haired black who meows his discontent. «Come on, Lucy, let’s leave Killy here go so he can lose to your mum, uh?»

Emma can’t help the smile ticking her lips upwards before she walks into her bedroom, all she needs neatly arranged on her vanity. For an outsider, the amount of products she’ll use would appear overwhelming and just too much, but it truly is all she needs for the perfect effect she’s planned.

An outsider, however, could definitely tell she’s more than nervous.

In order to calm herself down, Emma goes into the bathroom, changes into a strapless top and washes her face before carefully drying her skin.

A soft knocking makes her look towards the door where Elsa is leaning against the frame. «Come on, Ems, you can crush this. And don’t say you’ll lose for sure because he’s too good at what he does. Killian is amazing, but you are, too.» A wicked grin spreads on her lips. «I mean, I know it’s mostly pent-up sexual frustration, so maybe I should go say the challenge is postponed until you two fuck your brains out?»

At this point, Emma could forego the red paint she needs on half her face: her blush is enough. «Go away, Elsa,» she splutters, waving her friend out.

«Okay, bye,» the other blonde singsongs with a wink.

Elsa can be such a tease, but she’s a very good friend, one of the best Emma has here in Vancouver.

After dividing her hair in two ponytails and putting an hairband over her hairline, Emma steps out, her phone ready to record the first part of the challenge when she appears completely bare-faced and the song begins.

The first few seconds of recording are easy, she’s adjusting the headband and smiling conspiratorially at the camera. And then she’s off.

First there’s paint, covering half of her face in a way that has her cringe, because she might be a make-up artist, but she’s not one for too much make-up. As she talks with Elsa and Graham, Emma loses track of time, her movements quick and precise as they throw the bases for her masterpiece.

Briefly, Emma explains what the final effect should be like and doesn’t realize Graham is filming until she distractedly looks at him.

«What-»

«The network wants a behind the scenes to put up after the winner is proclaimed.»

Of course they want that.

Emma just rolls her eyes and goes back to the task at hand, humming the song to herself as she applies shade over shade of blue eyeshadow until it reaches a perfect white that she turns into a dull grey to give a bone effect. She’s going for a realistic touch, and with Halloween fast approaching, the more horrifying she looks, the better.

It’s Elsa that remembers her to film the parts for the challenge, and though she’s new to this whole TikTok stop-and-go thing, Emma is a fast learner.

Designing the teeth isn’t as easy as it might look, but what’s harder is giving the effect of a true skull: the depth, the way teeth and bones shine beneath the light so to not appear fake. What Emma fears the most, right now, is not being able to make the other side as good as she is the one on the right, Snow Miser’s one.

The effect is, in fact, quite stunning, if she dares say so, but Emma must not be too sure of herself. By the time she finishes the right side of her face, her skin - ears as well - is various shades of blue, grey, white and black. Theatrics demand she adds an eyeroll here and a wink there, and she does kind of feel like a fool, but she laughs it off with a shrug.

When her make-up is done, or at least half of it, with long white and icy blue fake eyelashes, Emma feels giddiness bubbling up deep inside: it’s not about the win, it’s about the fun she’s having.

Hairstyling is not exactly her field, but she’s had to work alongside stylist for the most part of her career, which allowed her to pick up a few tricks. Thankfully, she did try spray dye once or twice before, so she knows what to do to get the effect she wants, doesn’t matter if she’ll die intoxicated in the meantime.

Elsa gasps as soon as she realizes what Emma is doing: if there’s something holy for Emma, that’s her hair.

«Don’t,» Emma warns her friend as she sprays silver dye on her hair, «I’m already regretting it.» No pain, no gain, that’s how it is.

Her heart starts beating faster and faster as she applies light blue dye, and as soon as she twists the strands in a loose braid that falls on her painted shoulders, it almost stops. If she manages to do the other side of her head just as good, she’s going to win, Emma just knows it.

«I should say I’m used to them, but contacts are horrible,» she murmurs, carefully applying the full white one to the eye on the right.

Graham snorts. «Whoever thinks those who use contacts are used to or even like them, is a fool.»

Premade accessories are the only ones allowed in the competition, so Emma carefully takes the icicles hairpin she made that morning and secures it right behind her head where the braid begins so the tips of the icicles stick out just right. Last but not least, it’s the earring she chooses on a whim, because she can see how perfect it is. After all, Emma has a weak spot for Percossi Papi, and the moon earring with white and blue gemstones is just perfect.

«Damn,» Graham comments with a low whistle.

In the mirror, Emma sees Elsa’s shock as her jaw plummets toward the ground. «You’re officially hired for life.»

Emma laughs, and perhaps this is the victory she was truly aiming for.

Now, however, she has to concentrate, because even for make-up artists, mirroring the effect on the other side of the face can be tough.

Brushes fly over her face, paint and eyeshadows coat her skin with black and reds and white, and slowly it seems as if her skull bares itself to those in the room, so realistic Emma feels a rush of excitement run down her spine.

This time, her hair is almost completely red, fading halfway to orange and then a bit of enhanced yellow at the tips. The same goes for the roots, where Emma shaded the colours until it fades towards her natural blonde. The colors on the two halves of her face are blended together as well, not separated by a line or flames or just side by side, they blend together and that makes the skull beneath pop up even more.

When she adds the full eye black contact, Emma almost wants to weep: the effect is extraordinary and she just feels like the queen of the world. Or the underworld, as it is.

A few strands of flaming waves Emma otherwise lets loose are pulled back and pinned behind her head with a hairpin made of glass shaped into a flaming red flower. Another one of Percossi Papi’s earrings, a sun with reddish stones, complete the look.

When she gulps, the vertebrae she’s painted down her neck move. She needs to film the last bit, the last “I’m too much”, the final look, but she can’t bring herself to.

«How much time have I left?»

Elsa looks at the timer. «About thirty minutes.» She whistles, «You’re fast.»

Reining in the urge to stick her tongue out at her friend, Emma opens one of the drawers to pull out nail polish kit she’s not used in ages. Now or never.

«All I can do is praying that it won’t be a mess,» Emma mutters to herself, knowing even just one smudge or a chipped nail will send her into a frenzy. That’s why she goes for a some shade shifter nail polish in the lightest tones of blue and adds some snowflakes stamps.

«Time?»

«Enough for you to do the other hand just as beautifully. Breathe, don’t stress, you’re going to nail this!»

It takes them about two seconds before losing it, laughing so hard Graham can’t even hold the camera up and Elsa is lying flat on Emma’s bed.

«I hate you!» Emma sobs, desperately trying to keep the tears that have pooled in her eyes from falling; the last thing she needs is to see all her efforts ruined when she has no time to fix it. But she’s grateful for her friend’s timing, because that bad joke has the same effect of an anti-stress ball.

«You love me and you know it!»

Emma huffs out a laugh, shaking her head before getting back to the task at hand, choosing a polish she never thought she would ever use.

Behind her, Elsa scrunches her nose. «I thought that trend died ages ago. Hoped it did.»

«You and me both. But desperate times call for desperate measures,» Emma sighs, looking down at the crackle nail polish, black on a coat of a red-orange that could pass for lava. It’s not the best effect, and she would not endure it for longer than it was needed, but at least it gives her that little touch of craziness she needs to boost the look.

And then it’s done.

After hours of work, it’s done, and she feels like she’s just won the whole goddamn lottery.

«I can’t wait to see Killian’s face when he sees you like this.»

Graham snickers. «He’s probably going to ask her to marry him in no time.»

«How dare you?» Elsa gasps in mock shock. «He needs to court her first!»

The Irishman’s eyes widen. «What do you mean? He’s not courted her for the past two years of unresolved sexual tension?»

It's a very good thing that all that make-up covers her skin so heavily they can't see her blush, that would be catastrophic.

Ultimately, Emma decides to just throw Elsa a pillow and glare at Graham before standing up and making her way to the living room.

Curiosity spikes through her, because there’s no way she doesn’t want to see what Killian came up with.

Gasps fill the air upon her entrance, and Ruby is this close to drop Lucifer, eyes bulging. Emma smiles smugly, cocking a brow before twirling around, only coming to a stop when Killian strides into the living room as well, mouth hanging open to mirror hers.

He’s… stunning.

More than, he’s breathtaking.

The colors on his face, much like hers, are blended, showing some sort of continuity in the transition. At the center of Killian’s forehead, is a perfect half snowflake that meets a flaming sun, the details so perfect Emma wonders if he ever thought about becoming a painter.

Fake icicles hang from his right jaw and-

«You shaved?!»

Her high-pitched scream makes everyone laugh, but does nothing to diminish her shock: in all the time she’s known Killian Jones, he never ever shaved. Not until today.

The man shrugs, but there is a faint blush beneath all that make-up, she can see it. «And you used- hmm.» He leans closer, inspecting her hair. «Color spray?»

Emma clicks her tongue, arms crossing in front of her chest. «And you used… oh god, you did use color wax on your hair?»

The blush deepens, and only when Killian tilts his head slightly, Emma notices what additional accessories he used.

«Oh my god you went for the ice and fire elf effect!» she exclaims, pointing a finger toward the prosthetic ears he sported. As if he needs them! And on the top left temple, a dark horn is sticking out from a very much realistic hole.

Holy shit.

«And you went for the skull. Which, by the way, is bloody magnificent.» There’s a light in his eyes that tells her he’s restraining himself from inspecting her closer, and that’s then that Emma realizes Killian didn’t use contacts, making the blue pop thanks to his skills instead. There’s also no fake eyelashes in sight, because really, the man’s ones are already dark, thick and long as fuck, every woman’s wet dream.

When it comes to eyelashes goals, of course.

Inside Emma’s mind, Tom cocks a brow. Really, now?

Fucking British people and their fucking accent.

Emma blushes, muttering a “thank you” under her breath. Hoping not to embarrass herself further, she studies his hair: the fact that he used wax to dye his hair is obvious to her, and the effect is much more prettier than what she accomplished using spray colors. Half of his dark chocolate hair has been coloured in white, silver and blue, whereas the other half sports bright dark streaks next to orange and golden ones. She has to clench her hands into fists to stop the urge to run her fingers through Killian’s hair, to feel if it really is as soft as it looks. That would also knock the crown, half white crystals, half golden leaves, off his head.

It is Ruby who breaks the spell, smiling smugly as she announces the videos are about to be uploaded, therefore dragging the two artists to the couch, where they sit next to each other to admire their work.

At this point, Emma doesn’t really care about winning anymore, because probably, the most rewarding win is the awe in which Killian still looks at her.

-/-

It’s not until a few hours later, when they all ate too many snacks to have a normal dinner, that everyone but Killian leaves Emma’s house, both Elsa and Ruby winking at the blonde on their way out.

Emma rolls her eyes, which have been freed from the contacts, much like her lobes have been relieved of the heavy earrings and her nails are now back to their natural aspect. The headpieces she put together are now on the coffee table with Killian’s crown and the prosthetic ears. Lucifer, of course, is curled up on Killian’s lap.

Traitor. Emma squints at the two of them, so comfortably sat on the couch as if they belong there. Lucifer does, but Killian…

Wishful thinking, darling?, Tom taunts her with a grin.

She shuts him up, clearing her voice. «Do you want to stay for dinner?»

Did she just ask that?

Tom laughs. My, my, I didn’t peg you for that kind of girl. I’m impressed. Brava.

Killian must be shocked as well because he stares at her in surprise, eyes wide and god, the way they pop thanks to the make-up should be deemed illegal.

Then, he narrows his eyes. «Are you going to cook?»

Emma scowls at him. «I do know how to cook and you know it.» Walking past him, she starts removing the fake eyelashes. «I’m going to shower, first. You’re welcome to join me, if yo-»

She stops, dead in her tracks, spine as stiff as a board as realization dawns on her.

Oh dear, that escalated quickly. Tom Ellis as Lucifer is both the best and worst thing that she ever saw, because he seems to be trapped in her head, and her mind doesn’t need him to make fun of her at all when she’s just propositioned Killian.

Emma’s breath catches when she ears soft footsteps nearing her and then Killian’s presence is all over her; hell, she almost feels his body heat radiating off him. That’s crazy, isn’t it? But then his breath is warm on her skin and no amount of make-up will reduce the storm brewing inside Emma, how the butterflies just take flight and she’s very much away that Killian is just a few inches away from touching her back with his toned chest.

A sigh escapes her lips and her next words don’t surprise her as much as they should. «Please tell me you didn’t wax your chest.»

A low chuckle. «Why don’t you check for yourself?»

Suddenly, she’s spun around, her back pressed against the wall, just like every, every inch of him is. There’s no way he can’t feel the swells of her breasts pressing against the hard planes of his chest and the stiff bulge in his pants rubbing over her lower abdomen.

She hums, pondering his offer before she takes him by surprise untucking his Henley from his jeans and divesting him of it. The clothing lands somewhere nearby, not that she cares: all Emma can focus on right now is the vast expanse of skin bared to her eyes and still covered with dark hair.

A moan rips from Killian’s throat at the sensation of Emma scratching his stomach, just before he pounces and his mouth is on her, a bit sticky because of the make-up still covering their lips, but not their tongues and goddamnit, Killian Jones tastes amazingly. It may also be because of the sickening amount of chocolate he’s downed, so perhaps she needs to taste him a bit longer and on different occasions.

That’s a really nice thought.

One Emma acts on as they stumble inside the bathroom, clothes left in a trail behind them and muttered curses because holy shit, his body is a piece of work and the way Killian praises hers makes her want him even more.

They come together in every way that counts with blue and red and black swirling around their feet as part of their make-up and dye is washed off.

Killian stays for dinner.

And breakfast as well.

-/-

It takes no time for Emma to get obsessed over another song, so when she first sends the first verse of Break My Stride, she’s only a bit surprised that Killian replies with the second one.

Really, that man should be made Saint for putting up with her and her obsessions, but if he can live with that, she can definitely live with his neat freak ways and his absurd yet adorable love for Star Wars.

Ah, yes, they live together now.

And Killian got a TikTok account as well.

Which means he’s spiraled down the rabbit hole, too, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Emma laughs and pats him on the shoulder every time he complains about spending way too much time on that bloody app, but she can’t help the way her jaw crashes on the ground when What A Man Gotta Do by Jonas Brothers - another obsession Emma fell prey of because, duh, those are the Jonas Brothers, come on! - fills the air and Killian makes his appearance in the living room as she’s watching Lucifer on Netflix - again. What shocks her is the way he’s dressed, with just one of his shirts, a pair of white briefs and knee-high socks.

She’s too dumbfounded to move, not even to film the impressive dance moves he’s showing off, but she does join him in that crazy dance, laughing most of the time because she’s uncoordinated and is wearing one of Killian’s shirts and knee-high socks as well.

The only thing that differentiates her from Priyanka Chopra is the lack of an engagement and wedding ring on her finger.

Unlike her obsessions, though, that difference doesn’t last long.

#cs fanfic #captain swan #cs fic #cs fanfiction #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #cs au #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #my fic #cs concert series

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stahlop · 5 years ago

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New Year’s Eve (1/1)

Here is my piece for the Captain Swan Concert Series! This is inspired from the song New Year's Eve by Nina Gordon. From summer 2000-2001 I did a theatre internship in Rhode Island and it was my first time away from home and I knew within two weeks that, while I loved theatre, I didn't want to do it for a living. This album got me through the internship. I listened to it non-stop for most of the year. I had wanted to write this as a New Year's Eve story, but between Secret Santa and January Joy I didn't have time. So, I was really happy when the concert series was announced.

Thank you @profdanglaisstuff for being my beta! Without you my stories would not be what they are.

Summary: Normally, Emma Swan would have her long, blonde hair curled or put up in some elaborate braid. She’d be dressed to the nines and practically taking over as the host of the party. She hadn’t always been like that. She used to be the biggest wallflower. Sitting alone in a corner and waiting for the countdown at midnight so she could wish everyone a Happy New Year and then leave to go to the comfort of her own apartment and bed. But then she met Killian Jones.

Rated: G

Ao3

Normally, Emma Swan would have her long, blonde hair curled or put up in some elaborate braid. She’d be dressed to the nines and practically taking over as the host of the party. She hadn’t always been like that. She used to be the biggest wallflower. Sitting alone in a corner and waiting for the countdown at midnight so she could wish everyone a Happy New Year and then leave to go to the comfort of her own apartment and bed. But then she met Killian Jones.

It had been at another New Year’s Eve party. A new co-worker of David’s wife, Mary Margaret. They both taught in the history department at the local university. It may have been a general ‘you’re new in town so come to this party and meet people’ or it could have been a set up. Either way, Killian had been smitten with Emma at first sight. And even after he’d given a few smug one-liners and she’d thrown his drink on him (she wasn’t going to waste her own drink), they’d somehow ended up talking until midnight where they both apologized for their behavior and Killian made the resolution to ask Emma out on a date.

At first she thought it was weird that the man she’d thrown a drink on was now asking her out. But he was damn sexy, what with those ocean blue eyes, dark chocolate brown hair, and scruff on his face. She was already having daydreams about how that scruff would feel against her cheek and... other places.

And then, despite all her issues about being abandoned at birth, all her fears from growing up in the foster system and not experiencing love, all her reservations that she didn’t deserve someone like Killian, especially after her first love ruined her for future relationships, he broke through her walls and she loved him. She should have known it wouldn’t last.

Oh, Killian had his issues too. Mother dying young, father abandoning him and his brother, said brother dying when Killian was only 18, then his first love also dying from a rare heart condition. But he was still open to love. Had experienced it, even if it didn’t last. And Emma knew he loved her too. Knew it from the way he kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her taste. From the way he always got her a hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon after she ordered it on their first date for dessert. Knew it from the way his fingers made her body sing when they were in bed together. How he wouldn’t fall until she did when they made love. And from the way he whispered it into her hair after said lovemaking.

And for the last two years they’d been blissfully happy. She’d helped host parties with Mary Margaret. Hosted parties with Killian at their own apartment (and partied so loud the neighbors called the police; too bad Emma was the police). Emma had forgotten to be on edge waiting for the other shoe to drop, to ruin the happiness she’d finally found. She’d even imagined a proposal on the horizon, especially when he asked her to a fancy restaurant for a fancy dinner.

Except it wasn’t a proposal. At least, not the kind Emma was expecting. It was the grant proposal Killian had put in that would have him working in England for the next year at the British Museum. And Emma, in her infinite wisdom of bad relationships, broke up with him. Told him she didn’t do long distance and she wouldn’t guarantee she’d still be single when he came back.

Thinking back on it now, with all her friends laughing and screaming and having a raucous good time at Mary Margaret and David’s New Year’s Eve Party, she realizes what a fool she’s been. It has been three months since that night.

Three months since she moved all her stuff out of their apartment, like a coward, while he was at work.

Three months since she took over Mary Margaret and David’s spare room.

Three months of not answering his calls or texts.

Three months of being in total agony of not speaking to the one person she loved the most.

Three months of imagining him with someone other than her.

So here she is, staring out the window watching the snow fall while wearing lame black leggings that say ‘Happy New Year!’ on them in gold glitter and an oversized black sweater, when she had specifically bought a tight, form fitting red dress last summer to make Killian’s eyes pop out of his head when he saw her in it, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and counting down the minutes until the new year so she can say her goodbyes and go wallow in her room.

“Such a shame to hide such perfect breasts in a sweater like that, love.” A British accented voice says from behind her. Emma’s back goes rigid, her ears perk up, and her eyes fill with tears.

“Killian?” she says in a small voice. It’s hard to speak, she’s afraid her voice will crack, that he will see…

What the hell is she so afraid of letting him see? That she missed him? That she was wrong? That she should have tried to make it work?

“Yes, love, it’s me,” he replies softly. Emma stands up and turns around to see Killian standing there behind her. He looks just as amazing as ever in his black jeans, white button down shirt and his cozy, professor sweater (the one she always teased makes him look like an old man, but that she stole and cuddled into whenever she missed him). His hair has gotten longer, curling up behind his ears, and his scruff is now a fully grown beard. She also notices the dark purple circles under his eyes that probably match the ones she’s been sporting lately.

“You’re here,” she says almost in disbelief. She can’t stop staring at him, she’s almost afraid that if she takes her eyes off him he’ll disappear and this will just be a hallucination brought on by too much alcohol.

“I am,” he says. Emma can tell he’s treading lightly. With the exception of his opening line, he doesn’t want to spook her (but he can modify anything from The Princess Bride and get away with it).

“I’m sorry,” Emma says immediately, looking directly into his beautiful blue eyes, the ones she’s missed seeing every morning and every night, looking at her as if she were a goddess on Earth. How could she have ever doubted him? The tears are falling freely now. “I’m so sorry, Killian. I got scared that you were leaving, and you know I have abandonment issues. I stupidly thought if I left first then leaving would be on my terms and it wouldn’t hurt as badly.” She takes a deep breath as she sees tears streaming from his eyes as well. “I was wrong. I was so wrong. Can you ever forgive me?”

Emma is sure she looks a mess, what with the tear streaked and, no doubt, red blotchy face she must be sporting. But looking at Killian, she can tell that’s not what he sees. He reaches out a hand to cup her chin, and she leans into it, just like she used to. Killian takes that opportunity to surge toward her.

His lips are on hers before she can even blink. She throws her arms around his neck as he moves his to around her waist. Emma is trying to pour every ounce of love, every lonely night she’s spent, every bit of herself into the kiss, hoping Killian understands.

Emma doesn’t know how long they kiss; hours, minutes, seconds. She just knows that when they’re done, foreheads touching, she looks into Killian’s deep blue eyes and hears him say, “You infuriating woman.”

Emma’s heart clenches immediately, thinking this is all some elaborate ruse, some way to get her back for what she’s put him through these past few months, until he continues with, “I was going to propose that night. I had the ring in my coat pocket, and I was going to propose and ask you to come with me to London, but you wouldn’t give me the chance to speak. And then you just stopped speaking to me and I didn’t know how to get through to you. Everyone kept telling me that you needed to work through it, but you didn’t have all the facts. You thought I was going to leave you and I never had any intention of doing that.” He closes his eyes, tears clinging to his lashes. “I love you, Emma Swan, and I will always love you, and I will never leave you, no matter what.” He kisses her again, soft and sweet, not as full of need as the last kiss, but still full of love all the same.

“I’m an idiot,” Emma says smiling, “a big, scared idiot with relationship issues. But I promise that if you take me back that I won’t be anymore.” She exhales a shuddering breath and then asks the question she knows needs to be asked. “That is, if you still want me after everything I’ve put you through?”

“Don’t you know, Emma? It’s you. It’s always been you.”

They kiss again. And they continue kissing through the countdown, and the screams of Happy New Year, and the singing of Auld Lang Syne. And eventually the others see that Killian is not only back in the States but at the party, and he and Emma are kissing and have obviously made up.

And on the following New Year’s Eve, Emma’s hair is done up in an intricate braid, she is dressed in a stunning white dress while Killian is wearing a tuxedo and watching his almost wife walk down the aisle toward him with all their friends in attendance.

#cs concert series #Captain Swan #captain swan ff #cs au #new year's eve #angst with fluff

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