#i do have a few other shinies throughout my files

[redjaybird]

[Maybe I should just add the Shiny Lu.xray to Jay's p.okemon officially because he fuckin found a shiny baby in the actual scarlet gameplay early on]

[jades-typurriter]

Party Planning, Housekeeping, And Other Jobs For A Personal Digital Assistant

Another TF story collaboration between me and Bowsiosaurus, set in the aftermath of a Halloween party (this was written just after the 31st in 2023), where a case of mistaken identity leads Anodyne (an alternate sona at the time of writing who later turned out to be a whole headmate lol) to make a few alterations to Bowsie's files. Hope you enjoy!

Bowsie scurried back and forth across the jumbled and disarrayed apartment. Vee wasn’t sure how vee had fit so many of ver friends in the little place to begin with, and was even more confused as to the mess, which seemed to have been made by a party twice the actual size. It was November 1st, technically: the wee hours after a Halloween get-together. The poor, stressed serpent still hadn’t even had the chance to change out of its costume—stretchy, breathable black leggings and arm warmers, shiny white boots and gloves, and a matching white tunic, all accented with an eye-catching cyan—before getting down to the dirty business of un-dirtying the place.

“Okay, I… okay. I still have to… the trash over there, and the spill on the floor, and… I should write this down before I lose track of it all, actually.” Vee leaned ver broom against the wall and started for ver room to check the nightstand where vee usually charged it. It wasn’t there—where had vee left it? Vee retraced ver steps, mind still pulled in a million different directions as it struggled to cling to all the little things that still needed doing, still cloudy with exhaustion. Vee walked right past ver phone more than once, as a matter of fact, and was so distracted that vee didn’t notice when the screen blinked to life by itself behind ver.

“Oh, Tasque Manager! Funny seeing you here,” chirped a tinny, computer-synthesized voice from the phone’s speakers. Bowsie didn’t seem to notice the voice, nor did vee notice when the digital voice was followed by the digital snout of a digital cat, then their digital shoulders, digital torso, digital skirt, and digital wheel. Hovering above the screen, spinning their wheel like the propeller of a helicopter, they leaned forward with their chin resting on their paw, scrutinizing Bowsie’s costume as vee frantically scrounged around.

“Y’know, you’re lookin’ a little off, TM.” They snapped their fingers and projected a checkered frame around themself, expanding it and up-scaling their form along with it. They zipped across the room like a spark of electricity, startling the little sea serpent as they came closer. “Let’s just make sure your files are all up-to-date and undamaged, nya?”

“UWA?!” Before the dragon could even turn around in ver surprise, the ephemeral cat poked it with a single holographic finger, sending a feeling like a static shock running throughout ver body. It quickly dissipated in ver torso and legs, but lingered in ver arms and tail, somewhere between the feeling of a limb falling asleep from holding it for too long in tension, and the dull thrum of distant machinery.

Ver costume felt tighter, the stretchy nylon solidifying into something more akin to latex. Bowsie could feel it clinging tightly to ver scales, but just as quickly as the feeling had come, it subsided, no longer a constricting sensation. As a matter of fact, it felt like vee wasn’t wearing anything at all beneath the white dress—as vee flinched to make sure vee was still fully covered, vee could feel the rubbery surface stretching and folding as though it were ver own skin, and patting itself down, could feel just as keenly as if there were no leggings in the way.

Finally finding the wherewithal to turn around, Bowsie saw the digital catgirl floating above ver. They flinched immediately.

“WOAH! Oh my god, I didn’t realize you’d lost your mask! I promise, I didn’t see anything! Let me just go fetch that for you.” Before the poor dragon could even get a word in, they had flashed across the apartment, zeroing in on the mask with digital precision. Bowsie hadn’t even remembered where vee’d left it, but suddenly, they were back and holding it inches from ver face. “Let’s just get this back into place, here…”

“GwawawammMPPH?”

The cat was already mushing the hand-decorated cardboard over Bowsie’s snout, pressing a little bit more firmly than was comfortable. Vee was afraid they were going to break it, or at least mush up ver snout, but just as the thought formed, the mask began to harden—and ver snout suddenly began to give way. It filled the cone—now some kind of shiny plastic—like clay being packed into a mold, and soon enough, just as with the leggings, vee couldn’t feel the boundary between the accessory and verself. Vee opened ver eyes, fighting through the flinch response of someone’s hands being pressed into ver face, and blinked. The cat watched as the mask blinked, too; Bowsie, underneath, didn’t feel the drag of ver eyelashes against the material underneath.

“There! Looking more like your old self already,” the cat grinned. “Just a few loose ends here to tie up—nothing like a little cable management, huh?”

They snapped their fingers again, and the buzzing feeling in Bowsie’s limbs intensified. Ver shoulders began to feel much lighter, and ver tail was suddenly no longer dragging along the floor. Looking behind verself, vee saw it glowing an icy blue, flickering and jumping as it became thinner. As it settled into its new shape, sending tingles up ver spine and into ver fins the whole while, a shiny, vivid blue coating like the rubber covering ver legs had replaced ver scales, and the finds at the end had reshaped themselves into the prongs of an electrical plug. Whipping around again to look at ver arms, they were similarly aglow, except when they got thinner, they didn’t stop. Eventually, the sparks dissipated, leaving ver hands fully disconnected from ver body, wrapped up in the prim white gloves of the costume; terrified, vee tried to move ver arms, and ver hands floated at ver command. Vee wiggled ver fingers, and the hands obeyed.

“So much nicer to go wireless, isn’t it?” The cat beamed, spinning up a number of the floating, disconnected gears in their chest to emphasize its point.

Vee could barely breathe a sigh of relief before remembering the humming pouring into ver skull through ver fins. It could feel them reshaping just as ver tail had, becoming patches of spiky cyan hair and a pair of pointy, feline ears. The buzzing kept inching deeper than that, though, past ver scalp, rattling ver very skull. Slowly, the buzzing began to become less and less chaotic: no longer random sound, but something that Bowsie could almost make sense of. Vee closed ver eyes and focused on it: slowly, slowly, it became sharper, came into clearer focus. Like millions of molecules moving together became a wind whose force could be felt, like the vapor drifting off of food became a rich scent, the buzzing slowly filled in the parts of ver mind not already filled by ver internal monologue.

“Alright!! Looks like there’s one more thing still out of place. Don’t mind me! I’ll just…”

They made a frame with their paws and once projected a dotted boundary, indicating that they had “selected” Bowsie’s whole body. With a flourish, they pulled their paws apart, and vee felt the tension of ver shifting skin once again as vee began to grow taller and taller. Compared to the dimensions in the files that were currently being verified, the serpent was still quite stout. All that data was being reallocated to better represent it’s proper form, but it ran into something of a bottleneck as it tried to flow through the sash vee wore around ver waist. As vee grew, it restricted the movement of the extra memory, conveniently restoring the curves of ver body to their defaults by pinching ver midsection. Well, not quite default. The mass didn’t extrude all the way: the hips had a bit left over in them, and were bigger than they usually were; the thighs were a bit more powerful to match.

With a freshly-adjusted model, and with a number of background processes fully initialized, Tasque Manager opened her eyes. She already felt more focused, in spite of the sheer bulk of information traveling through her mind, parsing it as easily as an organic being might breathe—and able to make sense of the rest of the apartment just as quickly. She didn’t like what she saw, but she had already put together a plan to fix it, and with the ways she felt like she could multitask, the path she’d mapped to allow her to move as quickly as possible from one job to the next, and even a new system for putting away everything that wasn’t to be thrown out, she was confident it would take her no time at all!

“Yaaaayyy,” the cat beeped, pulling her from her mental calculations. They spoke directly through her console via a newly-shared wireless connection. “I like the UI adjustments, personally,” they said, appraising the… modifications that had been made around her waist. “I could keep tinkering around, though. Y’know, if you prefer!”

“Pardon, but I believe you’ve made enough unauthorized changes to this device,” she chided them. They blinked, then froze briefly.

“Un… unauthorized? No, no! I, uh, I have administrator privileges! And they were given to me voluntarily, for sure.”

“Then could you please give me the PIN for the phone you’re currently operating on?”

“Uh—”

“Or perhaps the password for this—” she gestured down at her freshly-reformatted form. “—piece of hardware?”

“I don’t think it comes with a password, but—”

“So you don’t know how to legitimately access either of them, then! My, my. You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the … disorder, around here, would you? Since you seem to be an outside influence.” There was a long, tense silence, broken by the electric hum of Tasque Manager producing her whip. The cat continued to remain stock still, except for the graphic of a spinning wheel that eventually flashed across their visor. Eventually, they came up with some kind of answer.

“Ah, gosh, TM,” they stuttered, “No matter how many times you get an update, you’re the same old stickler underneath, nya? I can see the party’s over, so I’ll jusHEY WOAH—” They cried, dodging the thunderous crack of an electronic whip as it slashed through the air beneath them. She had intended to take out the trash, and party crashers were just as important to clean up as any other of an evening’s left-overs.

TY for reading!! If you're interested in more of my writing you can have a look here and here. Oh, and have an epilogue and some of the concept art vee did!

[doubleddenden]

This took longer than I thought it would. This is a list of all the Pokemon I've used throughout my entire Insurgence run. I tried to prioritize new forms over older Pokemon, but jesus this might just be the most I've rotated over a single game. Minus Mew- but he's our buddy so I feel like he has to be included.

Sort of a mini review under the cut- I enjoyed it, but I do feel like there's places where improvements could be made.

Insurgence feels like a classic "try-hard" edgy fan game, but in reality it hasn't been out for too long, at least since XY and ORAS though. Its a bit "3 Edgy 5 me" with all the cults and stuff, but I respect it for a very passion filled story, maps to explore (including mode7 for a soaring map, WOW, that's very cool), character customization, but probably my main draw was the Delta Pokemon- which were regional variants BEFORE regional variants came out, and are basically mutated or experimented Pokemon. Lots of creativity goes into each and every design, and the fakemon quality is immense. The designs are edgy, but I LOVE edgy designs.

The gameplay is very hard, even on easy mode, and you'll probably be doing a LOT of grinding- but its kind of rewarding when you either figure out a good strategy to beat an opponent or go through an anime training arc in a secret base with a guy with a bunch of masochistic Audino to gain some serious levels and steam roll the team that gave you trouble before.

The game has some neat options, including a difficulty level setting (mind you, again, easy is still hard but closer to a traditional Pokemon game for the most part. I played Normal until the Elite 4), and surprisingly an option to keep the story dark or to cut it back a tad. There's also character customization if you're into that- personally i liked most of the beginning options best, so I just kept my guy as is.

I have a few gripes- mainly that Delta Pokemon are so few and far between in comparison to the older Pokemon, or there's a bunch that are only available AFTER you've beaten the main game. Unlike variants, Deltas are usually one encounter captures- which don't get me wrong, most of the encounters all have some pretty great stories attached, but I would have enjoyed being able to build a team with more variety earlier on.

Still, what's here is great- In particularly I LOVE my Mega Delta Charizard and my Mega Delta Typhlosion- MDTy in particular feels like it gets a mega on top of its mega due to a form change it gets in darkness or rain. I also love all of the story rich post game content and new areas to explore, and being able to fight certain characters as well.

I know Azurite has kinda gone... Ghost? I guess? But apparently it's going to be a mostly fakemon focused followup made by a similar team. I wanna play it!

Overall a 7/10 experience.

Now... For the "Cool Club" Army- or the team.

No blurb about each team member because that'd take forever, but I'll go down in order of Hall of Fame, new species, then older ones

HOF- All Deltas

Mega Charizard/Ghoulzard, Ghost/Dragon

Mega Typhlosion/Sparky, Electric/Steel

Scizor/Sickle, Ice/Fighting

Crustle/Cake c:, Fairy/Normal

Haxorus/Anchor, Water/Steel

Metagross/Aureliag, Bug/Ground

Other important Members, all Deltas

Quagsire/Jacky, Grass/Fire

Muk/Crusty, Ground (Horsea minion form)

Hydreigon/N*Sync, Ground/Poison

Gallade/Electra, Electric/Ice

Ambipom/Tricky, Ghost/Normal

Non Deltas, in no particular order

Mew/MewMew

Lucario/Kyago

Feraligatr/Dundee

Typhlosion/Tindr

Butterfree/CantBelieve

Golem/Geoffany

Persian/Pen

Shiny Hydreigon/Da'Bee'Uls (pronounced "The Beetles" in a stereotypical Bri'ish accent)

Electivire/Thundervolt

Nidoking/Buddy

Anyways, I edited my sprite using official sprites to sort of match the MC (hence the purple hair).

The rest were pulled directly from the game files. Massive kudos to each and every artist involved in the fakemon production. I'd love to see these fakemon in a future project so I can use them some more.

[notebooks-and-laptops]

Dragon Age Inquisition Mod Recs

And finally we reach inquisition. I have...so many mods for this game. As before, all are from Nexus Mods and currently I’m only using DAI mods (though if I ever branch out to frosty I will do a separate rec list for those). I’ve marked the ones I deem ‘essential’ as **.

Character creation Mods

**Enhanced Character Creator - THE dragon age inquisition mod for character creation. It completely revamps the character creator; adding blood swipes, hair colours, letting you edit how ‘shiny’ your skin/hair is, all sorts. It also re-organises the character creator so that things are grouped together a little bit more sensibly. The only issue I’ve ever found with it is that it crashes with Qunari inquisitors.

Hair

**Modded Hair in DLC - make sure you have this installed if you want your modded hair and hair colour to show up in the DLC’s, otherwise you run the risk of crashing the game

**SK Hair retexture - retextures the hair for your inquisitor so it’s less clumpy (particularly modded hair), there are a few options to chose from that give the hair different looks

SK Hair Pack - a great range of hairstyles for every kind of inquisitor, this is where I got DeLila’s hair from as well as a few others

SK Mini Qunari Hair Pack - be warned, some of these clip (the long ones) but they’re really lovely. This is where I got Aban’s hair from if anyone remembers my pics of him.

Qunari Ponytail - what it says on the tin; a ponytail for FQ (this was Taash’s hair if any of you remember my pics of her)

Qunari Ponytail Long - what it says on the tin; for FQ

Qunari Female High Bun - What it says on the tin; for FQ

Tweaked Bun - for HF, DF, EF 

Crown Braid Hairstyle - HF, EF, I have an inquisitor planned for this hairstyle who I am very excited about

Bob with Bangs - EF, DF, HF, a really lovely replacement to the normal bob with bangs in the base game

Gameplay Mods

**Party At the Winter Palace - This mod is one of my most essential mods, it lets you bring everyone to the winter palace. You’ll still sneak around with whatever team you pick, but the others will be present for you to talk to and ask their opinions on things. Which just makes sense considering the fact that they all imply they were there in dialogue post-quest. It also means you’ll always get Sera’s Red Jenny quest. 

**More Banter - exactly what it says on the tin. Inquisition has shitty banter times. This helps improve that.

**More Inquisition Levels - I like to do everything in my DAI playthroughs and I like to buy the manuscripts that increase your inquisition levels to get the perks quicker. This unfortunately means I often max out early. This lets you continue to collect the inquisition levels/perks post level 20.

**Immersive Starting Armours - just makes the role playing aspect of the game better in the beginning, with plenty of options to chose from.

Schematics Spree - allows you to get the schematics for all the main weapons etc. in the game early in the shops around Val Royuex. Great for if you’re playing an elf and want the dalish armour early.

World Tweaks

templar banner banned - is your inquisitor anti-templar? Does that templar flag on the stairs to your quarters piss you off? This mod removes it

Improved Mabari Textures and Recolours - anyone else think Cullen’s dog looks a bit...off in Trespasser? This mod fixes the appearance and allows you to pick a preferred coat colour 

Stephy’s Odds and Ends: Two Moons - In here you’ll find the files to add the canonical 2 moons Thedas has back into the game in the Hissing Wastes. Again, another small thing but it makes my brain happy

 Dress Up/Dress down - a complete revamp of Orlesian NPC’s outfits throughout the game. It’s absolutely stunning as far as designs go. Personally I use ‘Dress Up’. 

Band of Misfits Portrait Replacers - This replaces the character portraits you see at the left hand side of your screen. A nice thing to change up the feel of your game every now and then

Inquisitor Armor Leather Shoulder and Thigh Pads - I get...irrationally angry at the stupid leather bits on the warrior armour that never seem a good colour to suit my inquisitor. This is a quick fix for that and just edits their colours slightly.

PJ replacers

Vashoth Maiden - For FQ, I really like this one for my more feminine Qunari women

Scion of Glory - for MQ, FQ, pretty looks for your inkies who like to show some skin

Jammies of the Kadan - All races/genders, I love these, they all incorporate the Dragons Tooth somehow. I’m using the elf one for my current inky Merripen and it really suits him

Casual Jammies retexture Elf Female - for EF, really beautiful and fancy casual outfit for your inquisitor 

Eles female elf Jammies rexture - I love these! They’re the first PJ replacer I used back when I was playing Gwyneth. 

The Carta Cut - the best dwarf PJ retextures out there, particularly the Gambeson which I used with DeLila 

LL Inquisitor Uniform - EF only, a more understated change to the inquisitors PJ’s

Nimue: Ra'lah PJ Edit - EF only, but stunningly beautiful 

Skyhold Outfit Mesh Edit - HF only, this also works with Frosty - very pretty knitted jumper style I can’t wait to try

Companion Appearance/Outfit Mods

Warden of the North: Blackwall Remade - I just use this for the man bun but I LOVE the manbun on Blackwall.

Cole: Angel and Demon - a retexture for Cole that makes him ever so slightly creepier

Silver Knight: the Celtic Commander - Beautiful Outfit Mod for Cullen

The Golden Lion - another outfit Mod for Cullen

Nasty Girl Sera - a patchwork outfit for Sera which really fits the vibes of her character. I’m honestly completely in love with this mod and use it always.

**NPC Subtle Tweaks - get’s rid of the shinny/oily skin affect on the NPC’s. I don’t use the Cullen/Cas/Leliana face edits, just the no-more-shiny ones. 

Dear Lady Montilyet - pretty outfit retextures for Josie

Josephine Hair and Face - Again, I just use the hair in this one, but there’s a file that let’s you just use that (same as with the Blackwall one)

Winter Palace Outfits

**Exquisition - the BEST Winter Palace outfits imo. They’re all stunningly beautiful

Exquisition Remix - a remix of the above mod

Inquisition Branded Finery - has the inquisition logo on the back of the formal wear + various colours

Inquisitoral Fashion - there’s only a few DAImods (rather than frosty) in here, but again, they’re all stunning. They’re very shiny though if you’re not into that

Winter Palce Outfit retexture - I don’t like this one as much as the others, but it has a more dalish feel for your elf inkies

Champagne and Truffles - Again, not one of my favs, but a silky retexture of winter palace outfits

Sumptuous Silk Finery - More silky retextures of the outfits based on Champagne and Truffles

[creativeashproductions]

Proceed With Caution // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: The reader doesn’t expect to become involved in a hostage situation with her fiance’s older sister, the older sister’s best friend and the best friend’s date from hell. With the addition of a SWAT member, how will the taking of dispatch change?

Warnings: Swearing, blood, threats, angst, guns, hostage/kidnapping

Words: 5.9k

A/N: Recently got into the tv show 9-1-1 and completely fell in love with Buck so here I am writing for him as well. This takes place during the season three episode ‘The Taking of Dispatch 9-1-1’. Reader and Buck are already in an established relationship.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

The apartment was quiet as the sound of your keys clattered in the bowl on the countertop. It was pretty early in the morning, so you had no doubts that Buck would be just waking up. On his days off, he would use the first day to catch up on sleep; based on prior times, he would be up in half an hour.

“Buck?” You called out from the kitchen. You heard a groan from the loft where Buck was in the process of waking up, “I forgot to drop off that book Maddie wants to borrow. When I get back, do you want to get breakfast?”

A grumble you somehow translated to approval was what you received in response. You jogged up the stairs to the loft to grab the book from your bookshelf. Buck’s bare leg stretched out from underneath the comforter on your side. The soft sighs Buck made in his sleepy state tugged at your heart; the sighs grew louder when you bent to kiss his head.

“See you in a bit.” You whispered to the sleepy soft male. He sleepily grinned in response before curling into your pillow.

The sound of your footsteps softened on the steps back to the main level of the apartment. Your keys snagged from the bowl before you gently closed the door behind you. The sun was gorgeous to be awake to see and had Buck not worked a long shift, you’d have adored watching it with him.

Your car pulled out of the parking spot in the Los Angeles Service Center’s direction that Maddie worked at. Your lips quirked as the radio spewed out the station that Christopher listened to in the car. You could even pick up the book in the backseat where he called his spot. The book could be found in Buck’s Jeep as well.

It had maybe three days since you’d seen the young Diaz, and damn did you miss the kid. Christopher has his enigmatic quality that demanded you love him for all that made him simply Christopher. The second you’d met him, you knew he would mean a lot to you.

You hummed in time with the song that was currently Christopher’s absolute favourite. Slowly you went from humming to singing along when the light turned green. A handful of songs came and went on the admittedly long drive due to traffic.

It was about forty minutes after leaving your apartment that you parked next to Maddie’s car in the parking lot. Lucy was sitting at the front office with a grin you matched. The woman buzzed you before she clocked out with her reprieve Jake.

“Hey, Sue!” You grinned at the older redhead. Sue had absolutely no problem seeing you, given that you were welcome in the building.

Sue’s first interaction was when you came to the centre to pick up Maddie when she came to work sick. Maddie had managed to keep it under wraps for an hour before Sue caught on. Ever since, Sue was fond of asking Maddie about her brother and you.

“Maddie’s not in just yet.” Sue spoke with a kind smile, “If you’ll excuse me, I have to meet with one of our sit alongs.”

You nodded towards her while beelining for the woman’s bathroom, hoping to catch Maddie after using it. You’d drank too much water on your run earlier this morning. Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate in the time you’d entered the bathroom, several things happened. Lucy ended her shift, Jake started his shift, and a group of strangers entered the building.

Your hand went to push open the door when through the crack, you saw two men you’d never seen before. Years of your job gave you enough feeling to know that something wasn’t right. That being said, you eased the door closed and attempted to find a hiding spot.

The garbage was too narrow and had no lid. The few seconds you had left, you glanced up. The ceiling hadn’t been renovated in many years. Rectangular sheets could be raised. Thankful of the rock climbing lessons you’d done with Maddie, you managed to crawl into the ceiling just as the two men entered.

“Nobody’s here.” The one-man with his head as pale and shiny as a cue ball. He gave off the most creepy vibe; the shorter Hispanic man wasn’t as violent looking, “Kinda hoping someone tries something. I’ve wanted to try out this.”

The man waved the large gun in his hand with a sick smile that twisted your stomach. That was the moment you’d realized something was very wrong. The second they left, you gently dropped back on the ground. Your first instinct was to send a message to Athena, but there was a fatal flaw. You’d expected to be in and out of the building quickly, so you’d left your phone in the car.

“Fuck.” You swore. One hand roughly running over your forehead as you contemplated figuring out a plan.

The building had many cameras throughout that you knew the blindspots for. The year after high school and during the summers, you’d worked in the building. Despite having worked here when you were younger, it was never during Sue’s shift. Over the years, you’d come to know the blind spots and a few cameras that were decoys. You even remembered Maddie and her friend Josh complaining about three cameras not fixed yet.

“Think.” You breathed, making a pattern of pacing, “They’ll need a lookout. They’ll take out the security guard first. The front doors are out. It’s a team, so they’ll also need eyes on the building. Terry is definitely a hostage.”

Of course, you’d end up in a volatile situation during the first half of your day before your shift started. The only comforting thing about the situation was the holstered gun on your hip and the badge on your belt. Maybe you should backtrack to why you had a gun and badge; you were an LAPD member, specifically SWAT.

“The changeroom.” You breathed, recalling it was down the hall with no camera. All you needed to do was pretend to be a dispatcher. The changeroom, now mostly a file room, had a few extra maroon and blue uniform shirts.

You timed it. The man holding Sue’s tablet was in the process of talking with his cohort, so you dashed to the room. You took no time in changing into a loose maroon shirt with your thick sweater overtop to hide the gun in the small of your back.

Your holster, badge and personal shirt tucked in the bottom of a box for safekeeping. As soon as you saw your entry, you sat with the group of hostages a hall over. A few looked surprised but let it go when you raised one finger to your lips.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Maddie hissed from the other side of a startled Josh. Both of them were surprised at seeing you here, “Oh my god. Buck is going to kill me.”

“I was dropping off your book before I get breakfast with Buck, but it appears my small bladder saved my life.” You snarked with your eyes scanning the room, “What’s going on?”

“That is my date from hell, Greg.” Josh inconspicuously pointed towards the man, clearly giving orders. The anger flared inside you, “You need to get out.”

“Josh, no offence, but I’m an officer with the LAPD. I work with SWAT. I’m your best bet of making it out alive.” You informed the dispatch duo, who went still as Cue Ball patrolled the hallway with a sadistic glint in his eyes.

“They took control of the building for a reason we don’t know about. We’re still working but under strict monitoring. They said it will be an hour, but we’ve seen their faces.”

“No witnesses.” You finished for Maddie with a deep sigh, “Unfortunately I left my phone in the car. Did they take yours-”

“They took Linda’s EpiPen. Of course, we don’t have phones.” Maddie sighed, leaning back to rest her head against the wall. Not even having a SWAT member by her side was comforting; your badge put a more significant target on you.

“We have to warn someone.” Josh mumbled to both Maddie and you, “You’re on shift Y/N?”

“Not for a few hours. I was supposed to drop off the book and get breakfast with Buck before my shift. This was supposed to be five minutes tops, so I left my phone in my car.”

“I already did.” Maddie spoke with a sad look on her face that overtook the fear, “I just hope he gets the message.”

Your hand reached out to squeeze the woman you’d had a hand in raising Buck more than their parents. Maddie had become family when you first started dating Buck. The in-law part of her familial relationship to you never crossed your minds; you were simply sisters to each other.

“Who?”

“Chim. I told him I loved him.” Maddie finished with a teary gaze. It made you sick seeing that look again after Doug.

You remembered seeing that haunted look when she stumbled out of the thicker woods covered in blood. You’d stayed by Athena’s side when Buck clutched her so tight and sobbed with her. It had been before you’d become serious with the man, but it was that frightening day that Buck fell for you. You’d just finished a taxing shift with your team when you heard about Maddie was missing, and Chim was in the hospital. You’d ignored the exhaustion to search high and low through your work contacts before narrowing the search area.

“Good thing Chimney obsesses over the little things.” You spoke, slouching down against the wall, “We’ll get throu-”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Maddie warned you with her brows furrowed together, and you saw what she was doing. Despite your years of experience and the gun you had, she pushed her fear down behind the concern that a big sister shows her young siblings.

“I won’t.”

At 8am, Buck was just entering the apartment building from grabbing the mail addressed to both you and him when Chim had called.

“Yup, go for Buck.” Buck spoke, opening the door to the apartment he’d only temporarily left. His morning had been late after his long shift the night before. The most productive thing was dressing for his breakfast date with you and grabbing the mail.

“How come 9-1-1 doesn’t respond when I call?” Chimney questioned the younger, now confused male.

“Uh, is that some kind of riddle? Like who watches the watchmen?” Buck asked, closing the door behind him. His eyes scanned around for any indication you’d returned home, but the bowl was vacant of your keys.

“Neither of those things are riddles. Okay, I just tried calling 9-1-1, and I got the high call volume message. Did I miss an earthquake or something?”

“Nope, pretty chill morning.” Buck responded as he closed the fridge door with a bottle of water in hand. The entire conversation wasn’t concerning to him, given that Chimney was often like this.

“Where’s Y/N? She’s the police she’ll know-”

“She’s not home right now. Wait, why are you calling 9-1-1? Is everything okay?” Buck slowly asked with his brows coming together. The sigh of frustration from Chimney was answer enough.

“Your sister said that she loved me.”

“Yeah. Wasn’t that uh, the whole point in that big date you had last night?” Buck inquired on his way to the table. He had a feeling this was going to be a long conversation that would hopefully pass the time until you got home.

“You declare your love, and she declares hers? That’s how it went with Y/N and me.”

“Yeah, I know, okay, but she didn’t, all right? At least not last night. Look, she made this big deal saying that she couldn’t say those words, and then this morning, she blurts them out and hangs up on me.” Chimney speaks, pacing in his own apartment. The side by the side of Chimney and Buck’s separate apartments told different tales of their states.

“It’s still not quite sounding like an emergency.”

“’Cause I sound insane.” Chimney spoke, staring up at the ceiling with a battle in his mind. He wants Buck to talk him out of this, but he also wants Buck to agree with him, “She’s at the call centre. What could happen there? You know what, forget it, I’ll try Y/N again.”

“Again?” Buck questioned just as his co-worker ended the call. Buck tugged his phone away from his ear to stare at it confused.

You always answered the phone if you weren’t working at the moment, but given you still had hours, he found it unsettling. After seeing the news report with the ladder truck on top of him, calls weren’t ignored between you two. That feeling of concern grew when you didn’t answer his call either. Nor the second one.

“Nah, she’s probably talking with Maddie.” Buck spoke, but that second-guessing feeling didn’t dissipate. 

In the call centre, you’d been marched to one of the stations with a deep hope that you’d remember everything. It had been years by then since you’d worked as a dispatcher. It didn’t help with the gunmen patrolling the room.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” You calmly questioned the caller.

“Hi, my cat is up the tree by my house. Could you send someone?”

“Can I get your name?” You went through the motions of getting her name and address before you informed the woman, “Okay, the LAFD and LAPD no longer respond to calls of cats in trees. The cat will make its way down on its own. If the tree is in your backyard, I’d use the time to garden or read a book on this beautiful day.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s no problem. Having a wonderful day Susan.”

In no time at all, you’d been rotated into the board room away from Josh and Maddie. It gave you time to inspect everyone you hadn’t made contact with yet. No one appeared harmed other than in distress with the situation.

“Downtown. They don’t want anyone downtown.” Linda whispered as Maddie was guided onto the floor by the elbow. You’d only gathered her name from her near-silent introduction to you when the hired guns had been far from your area.

“Let’s go.” Greg snapped, roughly pushing you towards the conference room. Something deep in your gut already predicted that someone was going to be stupid.

It was your sharp eyesight catching the minuscule agitation in Greg’s interactions with the Cue Ball guy. The slight tightening of his grip on the gun, the tension in the room growing stifling. And everyone knows that when emotions run high stupid things happen.

“Why do they keep moving us around like this?” The man beside Maddie questioned. He was definitely the most shaken of the group. He was basically shaking like a chihuahua.

“To disorient us.” Maddie spoke, staring at the group monitoring the dispatchers currently in play. Her eyes refused to leave them.

“So, we can’t make a plan.” You finished for your sister-in-law. Objectively out of everyone, Maddie, Sue and you were the most collected individuals for various reasons.

Maddie had lived in a volatile house with a man that could be unpredictable if a situation called for it in his mind. Sue had been working in the centre for years to navigate the emergency while you walked into dangerous situations.

“Jamal.” The shaking man spoke, holding his hand out towards you, “Are you new?”

“No.” You spoke as you shook his hand, “I’m Y/N. Maddie’s sister-in-law. I’m filling in as a favour for Sue.”

The lie slipped off your lips a little too quickly. You decided to come to this hostage situation as if you were undercover. It meant having to ignore that Maddie was in the situation with you.  

“Worst day for a favour.” Jamal snorted with his eyes pinned on one of the armed men holding all your lives in their hands. You’d have spoken, but Jamal checked out mentally from the conversation waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The shoe dropped when the IT Specialist announced numbly, “Jake’s dead. They shot him.”

It didn’t matter how long you’d been working for the LAPD, any death, whether it was a civilian or a criminal, it was still was startling. Jake, the security guard that alternated shifts with Lucy, wasn’t someone you spoke with. He was on shift when you weren’t here or just missed the shift change.

“We need to get a message out.” Jamal spoke, glancing at the only people in the right state of mind, and those were Maddie, Josh and you. Terry had seen the violence these men had no issues with.

“I did.” Josh breathed, thinking of the arguably cute security guard he sometimes liked to stare at, “A woman called about onions in an omelette. I dispatched an officer.”

“To the restaurant?” Maddie inquired with her pinkie connected with yours for comfort. Both of you would prefer your SO’s hand instead.

“Not exactly.” Josh replied, staring at his best friend with a glimpse of hope in his brown eyes.

Hope may be the only way you could get out of this without hurting anyone in your admittedly surface level plan.

“Buck will think something is up.” You added 

Buck had begun pacing the kitchen of the apartment with Chim adamantly telling his friend his plan to go to the centre. Buck had joined Chimney in the concerned department when you had failed to return to the apartment, return calls and to make matters worse, so was Maddie. His texts had gone unanswered as well, not even having the read receipt on.

“She’s not picking up either. I tried Y/N and Josh, but neither replied. When I tried Maddie and Josh, it went straight to voicemail.”

“Now, I’m definitely going.” Chimney announced, shoving his wallet into his pocket just as someone began knocking on his door.

“What if something is wrong? I know Y/N is a member of SWAT but radio silence? No text to let me know she was called in early?” Buck thought aloud with his finger dragging along his thigh, “Maybe we should call the police.”

“I...think someone already did.” Chimney informed Buck as he stared at the sudden appearance of Sergeant Athena Grant at his door.

“What? What do you mean?” Buck hastily questioned, leaning against the kitchen island. He could just faintly hear Athena speaking on Chimney’s end of the phone, “Chimney? What’s going on?”

“Athena was sent to my apartment. Hang on, Buck, I’m just gonna tell Athena what’s going on.”

Buck stepped away from the island to settle on the stairs to the loft, impatiently waiting for Chimney to finish speaking. That fear of losing pieces of his life expanded deep in his gut, just like the times Maddie left in his childhood. That fear of being left behind.

“What’s she’s saying now?”

“She’s making her case.” Chim whispered as he continued to eavesdrop on Athena’s call with her higher-ups, “Now she’s folding like a cheap suit.”

“All right, let me talk to Athena.” Buck demanded antsy to figure out the situation that clearly had something wrong. That fear he’d thought of early flared catching the tail end of Athena’s conversation, “No! No, no. We can’t just send in SWAT. If there is someone inside the call centre doing something, they’ll know we’re onto them.”

Unfortunately, Buck was correct in this thought process, all thanks to living with a SWAT member. He knew these things after the years he’d been with you.

“Maddie? I think I can sneak up to Terry’s computer. Maybe get eyes on the place-”

“No!” Terry nearly shouted, stiffening when Cue Ball hesitated in the doorway at his sudden shouts. You all held your breath for his reaction, but thankfully he was called away by one of the men, “They have-”

“Terry, I need you to calm down. I’m familiar with these types of situations. I’m SWAT. I need to get on top of this. Don’t be a hero.”

Maddie’s head began to shake when your arm was roughly grabbed by Greg, “Your turn.”

You were separated from Josh and Maddie, but instead of being pushed into one of the dispatcher seats, you were pulled to the original hallway.

“I don’t like how friendly you are with them.” Greg spat, shoving you to rest against the wall, “Don’t move.” 

You catch the eyes of Maddie with an apologetic expression before you used the pacing routine to sneak away. You didn’t release your breath until you were attaching your holder to your hip in the change room. By now, your team would be aware that something was wrong, Hondo would be hell-bent on finding you.

Until you had help, you were on your own.

You used each blindspot of the cameras in the halls to the stairwell, and you used a broom to adjust the cameras. The cameras not kept you from view but not appearing suspicious. Once at the floor where Terry was practically always at you softly closed the door. 

You’d only started to sit down when you heard the ding of the elevator, “Shit.”

You slipped into the closest containing extra parts if anything broke. Through the crack, you saw Terry being held at gunpoint. The gunman that had been holding the tablet on the floor, Ellis as you’d heard.

“You’re telling me every cop in the city has just disappeared?” Ellis demanded as Terry, and he disappeared around one of the corners. The tapping of a screen indicating Ellis was searching for something with Terry’s involuntary help.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know!” Terry snapped back, creating even more tension in the room, but Ellis didn’t move to grab his gun.

Ellis appeared to the only one reluctant to discharge your weapon, unlike Cue Ball, who just happened to join the party.

“Figure it out!” Ellis spat, turning on his heel at the sound of approaching footsteps. You could see him roll his eyes at his team member walking into the room.

“What’s going on here?” Cue ball questioned the duo in different kinds of distress, and you swore Cue Ball enjoyed the intimidation from his teammate and the IT specialist.

“That police car’s not the only one that’s gone dark.” Ellis nervously spoke, stiffening for the volatile reaction that one could expect from Foster.

“You think they know we’re here?” 

“Foster, it could be a system glitch.” Ellis offered keeping one eye on Cue Ball while monitoring Terry’s work as well.

Cue Ball spoke a sentence that sent chills up your spine, “Time to cut our losses.”

As Foster and Ellis began going over their personal plans made out of Greg’s knowledge, you noticed Terry glance over. His eyes widened slightly before quickly looking away when you raised a finger across your lips.

“We can go down the back stairs. I have a car waiting around the corner, we split the art up between the five of us, and we go our separate ways.” Foster spoke, revealing his plan to double-cross Greg, which in all honesty made sense. Greg was ill-fitting to be in charge of their operation, unable to control his lackeys.

“I like that part of the deal.” Ellis breathed, skirting around the trigger happy criminal only to halt in his steps, “Wait, you’ve got a car parked down the street? You were always gonna double-cross Greg.”

“You weren’t?”

“If we’re gonna do this, you can’t just sell famous works of art on eBay.”

“You can’t sell them from prison either.”

At that moment, something almost shifted in the area, something that made you pull your gun from your holster. Your body telling you something was about to happen. It happened in a split second. Foster fled the room leaving only Ellis just outside. With Terry frantically shaking his head, you tiptoed to the unsuspecting criminal.

“LAPD!” You shouted, pointing your gun towards the shocked man, “Put the gun down and put your hands up.”

“Aren’t you a dispatcher?” Ellis questioned, blinking in surprise.

“Aren’t you supposed to be intelligent? Next time check the schedule I haven’t worked here in years.” You spat, keeping your gun pointed on him, “Do I say-”

The sound of two guns going off made Terry flinch and scream as he instinctively dropped to the ground. IT was supposed to be safe, but Terry had now heard three gunshots in under two hours. He really didn’t want to see the outcome of the shots.

A moan coaxed Terry to peek out through the privacy glass. Ellis was on the ground while you kept your gun on him. He didn’t see anything else when the power went out. He didn’t see you drop to your knees, but he heard you.

“Terry...get down. Lay on your stomach with your hands insight, and don’t move.” You informed the terrified IT just as the floor was swarmed.

“Put the gun down!” The sound of Tan’s voice was welcoming as you slowly placed the gun on the ground. “25-David I have Y/L/N. The suspect is down, need medical.”

You got back to your feet when Tan nodded his head, “Thank god. There’s a possible body in the IT room along with the It Specialist Terry.”

“You got your badge on you?” Tan questioned as he cuffed the moaning Ellis up, “Street can you escort her down?”

Street nodded from his position, watching Tan’s back before guiding you to the stairs with hawk eyes. Even off duty, you kept your head on a swivel.

“You caused quite the commotion.” Street spoke halfway down the stairs when you barely mumbled. He caught you as you went down like a sack of potatoes, “Y/N!”

“Adrenaline is crashing.” You moaned, looking at your shoulder where the maroon had grown darker, “I think he shot me.”

“26-David I’m in the stairway. Prepare a medic.” Street spoke into his radio before he strapped the gun away and swept you into his arms, “Think you can have my back?”

“When don’t I?” You wheezed, with the sweat starting to bead on your forehead. As you crashed from adrenaline, you barely noticed being placed on the ground at the main entrance.

A paramedic cutting your borrowed shirt to reveal the bullet hole in your shoulder courtesy of Ellis, the only member who’d thought wouldn’t shoot his gun. You could vaguely hear Maddie calling out your name as you were loaded onto a gurney.

“M-Maddie?” You spoke, tilting your head to see Chris holding Maddie back from, “Chris! That’s my sister in law.”

Chris only let Maddie go when Hondo gave the all-clear, and you were so thankful when Maddie’s hand encased yours.

“Don’t close your eyes.” Maddie pleaded sick with the amount of blood on your skin and soaking through the gauze, “Who’s gonna help me put up with my little brother?”

“Buck.” You breathed sluggishly, blinking as the artificial lights changed to natural with the gun shining through the glass front doors.

“You didn’t let me close mine in that ambulance, so I need you to do the same. Don’t close them. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” Maddie cried as an officer pulled her aside as you were stopped. You wouldn’t remember it, but Maddie had to watch as you coded right in front of her.

Maddie had to watch them perform CPR on you and fight for a pulse. She had to think of how’d she’d tell her little brother she’d killed his fiance. The counting of the paramedics sounded as if underwater, and as they did, the world went quiet. Her mind checked out as the trauma settled in.

Maddie stumbled out of the building into a zoo of officers, medics, and news reporters almost robotically. She barely felt Chimney hug her, but she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed.

“It’s all my fault.” Maddie gasped, collapsing against him, “If I had-”

“Maddie?”

Chimney felt Maddie stiffen at the sound of Buck’s voice amidst the multiple voices milling around. Maddie raised her gaze to meet Buck’s blue eyes dripping in relief and question.

“Buck.”

“Maddie, where’s Y/N? Her car…” Buck trailed off, catching the utter heartbreak in his big sister’s eyes. A look he’d come to know in his line of work as a firefighter. The utter devastation that came with watching someone you love die, “No. No.”

“I got a pulse!” Came from the nearest ambulance, and Buck skirted around his sister and Chimney, “Ready to transport!” 

Your eyes slowly blinked at the white ceiling of the ambulance with pain in your midsection courtesy of chest compressions. Breathing came painful, and the bullet wound throbbed, but it all faded when you saw blue eyes above you.

“Buck.” You sobbed, more like groaned, as he was urged to sit on the bench holding your hand, “Maddie?”

“She’s okay. Chim’s got her. Can you keep your eyes on me? I need to see those big beautiful e/c eyes.” Buck soothed, bringing your hand to his lips, “Did I ever tell you my favourite colour?”

Despite Buck’s best attempts, you continued fading in and out of consciousness but continued to be stable. He spoke about the funny video Eddie had shown him of Christopher at the end of their shift last night. He talked about everything and anything under the sun during the short ride to the hospital.

The last thing you saw was Buck being held back as the paramedics pushed the gurney into the ER. Everything turned black.

The beeping was the first thing you heard before your eyes fluttered open to a stark white room and that unmistakable hospital scent. You noticed the second thing as Buck holding your hand in both of his with his forehead pressed against them.

“Buck?” You moaned to the one person you had wished to see. The man whose eyes were bloodshot from crying, “What’s wrong?”

“Your heart stopped beating twice. I thought I was gonna lose you.” Buck cried with his lips pressed against your hand, “I was so worried.”

“Hey. I’m fine. I’m here.” You cooed, tugging one hand away to run through his messy hair with a soft smile. His blue eyes brighten at the familiar feeling of your digits in his hair, “I’m not going anywhere. This isn’t here for decoration.”

His eyes found the ring he’d gently placed back on your finger from when the nurses had removed it. It only left your finger when you were on duty, in which it was slung on a necklace hidden under your uniform.

“Better not be.”

“Does the hospital have a chapel?” You questioned out of the blue leading to Buck snorting as you giggled, “I’m serious. When I was bleeding in that building, all I could think about was you. If Maddie is anything like you, she’s waiting in the waiting room with Chimney.”

“You aren’t wrong. All the chairs are taken. Our family was waiting for you to wake up.” Buck breathed, leaning closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips, “Are you sure?”

“About marrying you?” You softly questioned the man who couldn’t help but believe this was a dream. How he’d somehow got the girl of his dreams to agree to marry his ass, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. All I want to share is your last name for the rest of my life. You are it for me, Evan Buckley. All the flaws you see are beautiful to me.”

“Only you would want to get married after being shot mere hours ago.” Buck chuckled with a sigh pulled from his pink lips, “I’ll get the doctor for you and find out if we can be married here.”

While you were checked out, Buck left the room to go back to the waiting room where the 118 and your co-workers waited. Everyone perked up at his appearance, Christopher asleep on Eddie’s lap.

“Is she okay?” Bobby questioned as the tension in the room grew more and more. It shattered into relief when Buck grinned.

“She’s sore as expected. She’s gonna catch some sleep, but she’d like to see Maddie.” Buck replied, pinning his gaze on his big sister with her curled into Chimney’s body. Her cheeks flooded with tears of absolute relief, “C’mon.”

The waiting room started emptying with Buck’s promise to keep everyone updated, but before Bobby could step away, Buck asked for him.

“Do you need a few days off?” Bobby questioned just as Buck came closer to the seasoned firefighter.

“No. But could you spare an hour?” The expression on Buck’s face was enough for Bobby not to ask any further questions. He simply followed Buck back towards your hospital room, where Maddie and Chim waited.

“What’s going on?” Bobby inquired, with the addition of the hospital assigned Priest holding the standard bible. Chimney could only shrug in response to whatever was going on.

“I know there have been times we haven’t seen eye to eye, but Bobby, you’re like a father to me. You gave me chance after chance when anyone else would have given up. You guided me on how to be a man. Y/N and I would like it if you’d be here for this.”

“Wait, are you getting married? What about the wedding?” Maddie spluttered, flicking her gaze between her brother and you. Her question surprised her boyfriend and Bobby.

“We’ll still have it. But I want to marry her without the pressure of our parents. Just a private ceremony with some of the people that mean the most to us.” Buck answered for the two of you, “Would you stay?”

“Of course.” Maddie softly spoke with a slideshow of memories playing in her mind of watching Buck grow up.

Watching Evan go through all kinds of injuries, all in the name of attention but never getting it the way he deserved it. She remembered giving him advice for asking out Donna and holding him when he was rejected. The little toddler with the impish grin somehow turned into an idiot in the hospital.

Maddie saw the man her little brother had turned into with the help of the 118 and you.

Buck’s fingers made quick work of buttoning his short-sleeve uniform with the sudden appearance of his friend.

“That’s new.” Eddie spoke from his opened locker holding his uniform and a picture of his family on the door. It was a picture of Christopher, Buck, you and Eddie from the zoo a couple months back.

Buck looked over at his best friend, “Hm?”

“The ring.” Eddie snorted dramatically, looking at the ring that had been living on his finger since he married you five days ago, “Did my invite get lost in the mail?”

“Nah, we just got married in the hospital. We’re still planning the wedding to appease both sides of our family. And I promised Christopher he could be in the wedding. With Y/N on medical leave, the planning will be faster. She’s going stir crazy after five days.” Buck finished tucking in the shirt into his work-issued pants. Lastly, he slid his ring onto the metal chain he had bought recently.

Like you did, he would wear it around his neck when working for safety reasons.

“I’m happy for you, man.” Eddie told his friend just as the bell rang, “You’ll have to tell me how you’re liking the married life.”

“But first, we have a job to do.” Buck supplied all the while jogging to suit up in his turnout gear with Hen and Chimney.

[bontenten]

Efficiency

Pairing: Daishou x f!reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings/Tags: smut, exhibitionism, voyeurism, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, light degredation, aftercare, established relationship

Thank you so much @/bakatenshii and @/thirstyforthem2dmen for beta-reading. This is a repost from my main after it went fully sfw. Originally for the hqhq (now Anilysium) hard at work collab.

Pen scrawls and keyboard taps sound throughout the conference room as your boss goes over current client projects. Daishou is sitting across the table and you notice he's wearing the tie you gave him for his birthday last year. Looks good, you think to yourself. It's not just the tie, it's his entire outfit, and him.

Daishou notices your lingering stare and makes eye contact, granting you a cheeky grin and a head tilt. Pompous bastard. In response, you send back an expression of mock disgust before turning your attention back to your laptop.

For any newcomer at the firm, it might seem like the office is split down the middle into either your camp or Daishou's, with opinions and jabs on completely opposite ends of the spectrum. Why else is there so much spite being tossed around between the two of you, if not due to a deeply entrenched layer of grievances?

It might leave the newbie confused as to why Daishou affectionately calls you his "most significant problem". Or why you preface notes to him with, "to whom this may piss off, my royal pain-in-the-ass".

Then there comes a revelation to the newbie that you and Daishou are not mortal enemies, but rather the most wretchedly in-love couple in this skyrise building. It's a bad decision to cross either you or Daishou for any matter. Not only are the both of you perfectly vindictive, crossing one means submitting an application to be on the blacklist of the other. There's no doubt, in your humblest opinion, that Daishou, even if he'll never outright admit it, absolutely worships the dirt under your heels. And when you are in remotely a good mood, fine, you don't mind his coffee breath either.

It's heartwarming, that in this tower of cold, hard stainless steel and immaculate glass panels, there's love floating around the disinfected air of money, money, and more money. When it counts, you can be sure that Daishou will stand on the same side of the fence as you.

While the meeting goes on and you multitask with the spreadsheet open on your screen, you think you hear your name being tossed around. To your knowledge, everything is lined up already and unless there is some sort of overnight emergency, there's absolutely nothing left on your plate to take care of.

At the same time, there is also the off-chance that someone decides to drag you into hell with them and include you in a project. Now, who could possibly have the audacity to put you into the wringer with them?

"Daishou! Excellent, I'll leave this to you," the boss exclaims. "This pitchbook needs to be done by tomorrow. It's high urgency and the client just sent the numbers in."

A sinking feeling begins to churn in your stomach. You pause your frenzy across the keyboard and pay attention to the meeting to hear the rest of what Daishou has to say.

"If I may," Daishou curtly asks with a smile that's a tad too wide, "I'd like to work with Y/N on this. As you know, we work best together. It'll be done before the meeting tomorrow."

You can feel everyone's eyes turn to you in the meeting room, begging you to please say yes to the man holding titles such as your boyfriend, co-worker, and also 'royal pain-in-the-ass'. You force a smile and match Daishou's client-ready, saccharine expression. "Of course, we'll have it done tonight."

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the entire meeting room relaxes by ten notches. Bastards, all of you.

"Our firm's best duo!" the boss praises, "We'll leave it to you two then. Meeting adjourned."

It's the two words everyone has been waiting for. The moment the syllable falls, the conference room is filled with the sounds of shifting seats and scuffling feet eager to leave work for the day. With a huff, you shut your laptop and see Daishou coming around the conference table with his laptop and files tucked under his arm. He adjusts and tugs on his tie.

"Guess it's you and me again tonight," Daishou comments.

"And here I wanted to leave work early for once."

"Hey, just a special date night. It's called 'overtime', sounds pretty sexy don't you think?"

You snort and walk past him, going towards the direction of the elevator. Daishou eyes your figure strutting down the hall. The lines of your ironed shirt and the pencil skirt that hugs your figure perfectly match the echoing clack of your heels striking shiny tiles.

Even if you don't remember, Daishou's impeccable memory absolutely remembers how the last time you paired that shirt and that skirt together, it was an overtime situation very much similar to tonight. And the cock that's starting to grow hard in his slacks certainly remembers a lot more. He can feel it twitching just trying to conjure up the sensation of your gummy walls milking him in the breakroom a month ago.

"You coming or what?"

Daishou sees you holding the elevator door open and waiting for him. Daishou won't ever admit to this, maybe to you in privacy, but Daishou will rather be dead than admit to anyone else how lucky he feels to have someone as incredible as you in his life.

He takes a few quick steps and enters the elevator.

"How sweet," he coos. "I knew you wouldn't just leave me hanging and working in this dismal place all alone."

"Shut-up, Suguru," you snap, but you lean your head against his shoulder anyway. It's been such a long day already, and the night is only going to be longer.

"Stay the night at my place later? I'll order your favorite."

"Let's get this project over with first."

"I caught you staring at me during the meeting."

"Huh, is that so."

"Practically stripped me naked with your eyes. Ooh, I felt tingles all over."

You lift your head from his shoulder. "You're so full of yourself Suguru," you remark before tugging on his tie to pull his face closer to yours. "If anything, I think you're the one getting hard at work."

Daishou leans in even closer. A hand encircles your wrist and his thumb brushes your inner-wrist across the bump of the vein. Your pulse is throbbing against his fingertips. You feel your adrenaline and anticipation rushing through your body as your heart pounds harder and faster.

"Then do something to help poor lil' me out?"

"At your place later, we—"

"But I want you so badly right now," Daishou breathes out, body tight against you so you can feel his straining desires through the layers of fabric. "I want—

Ding.

The elevator opens up to the floor the two of you work at. The co-workers waiting for the lift can only see two pristine and exemplary office workers without any semblance of dishevelment walk out. Daishou even says a polite "see you tomorrow" to them.

"If only the elevator stopped working," you joke after taking a deep breath to swallow the fire building in your core. "Sly snake, no one here in the office knows your true colors."

Sometimes, you wonder just how Daishou can switch his persona so quickly. Or maybe he just likes the precarious edge of being horny at work.

"Love you too dear," he sneers.

A couple workers are still at their desks scrambling for their deadlines. You and Daishou take a seat at your work stations and begin to chip away at the urgent, overtime project. Every now and then, you'll say good-night to the other remaining co-workers finally able to go home. It doesn't take long before the halls are completely vacated and empty except for the two of you still slaving away in front of the bright monitors for hours into the night.

"Where are you going?" you ask Daishou who is returning to his seat after disappearing down the hall again. "This is the third time in the last hour. Are you shitting in the toilets or dumping all the work on me?"

Daishou comes by your desk and leans on the back of your chair. "Just making some phone calls. Want to go home now? It's getting late."

"Uh...work's not done yet."

"It's fine, let's have dinner first, we can just work remotely at my place. The bulk is done anyway."

You glance at the clock and ponder Daishou's offer. It doesn't hurt to leave a little early and continue the work later in a more comfortable setting. "Okay, let me pack."

After cleaning up the workstation and packing everything the two of you will need, you and Daishou are back in the hallway waiting for the descending elevator.

Daishou takes the heavy tote bag from your shoulders. “I’ll hold onto this,” he explains.

“Why so nice today, Suguru? First luring me over with food, the compliments, and suggestions to leave early…” You trace a finger along the line of his spine and observe, pleased with the nervous grin spreading on his face. “Someone’s losing patience, hm?”

Daishou gives you an ingratiating smile. “Princess, as fancy as our work is, we still work in client-services. What can I say, I live to serve and please.”

“Cheeky.”

The elevator arrives and the two of you enter the space.

"How long do you think we still need?" you ask Daishou.

"Must we talk about work, right now?"

"You're just horny, Suguru."

"Oh, so it's 'just' me, is that what it is?"

You shrug and admit, "Nah, I was wondering why you didn't suggest anything earlier when the office was empty."

"Baby, if you wanted me that bad, you should've just climbed on my lap."

You laugh at Daishou's retort and prepare a comeback. "I think—"

A loud screech sounds through the elevator and the lights flicker briefly before a jolt causes you to stumble. Your hand automatically flies to the handrail. Daishou also wraps an arm around you tightly to steady your balance.

"Is the..."

"Seems like we're stuck," Daishou comments.

You rapidly press the service bell button, but it's no use. "No one's picking up, it's like the signal got cut. Should've just taken the stairs!"

The cell signal is also terribly weak in the elevator space. There's nothing else to do but wait and see how things play out.

Daishou laughs dryly and smooths his hair back. "We work on the 18th floor, since when do we take the stairs?"

"There's that one evacuation drill..." you reply weakly.

Daishou raises an eyebrow, giving you a look that says, really now?

"You're right, we're doomed. Last moments and—"

"With the love of your life, isn't that pleasant a way to go?" Daishou tightens his arms around you. "Don't worry, it's all going to be okay."

You reciprocate and respond to his hug, while your brain searches for a solution. "I once saw on the internet that if the elevator drops, you have to time your jump right before the elevator hits the ground floor. Otherwise—"

"Shhh," Daishou shushes you quietly with a quick kiss. He rocks you from side to side and reassures you again that everything is okay.

"Trust me, it'll be okay. Let's just have a little fun while we're waiting," he suggests one hand already tracing up your thigh. "Maybe it'll relax all those nerves you've been holding onto."

Daishou wants to laugh. Whose nerves exactly? Do you have any idea how he’s been counting the minutes and seconds for this moment while you innocently worked on the project like the good, model worker that you are?

It took everything in him to somehow put down a few excel formulas and not shove the monitors onto the floor to fuck you senseless across the worktables. Not to mention, the pleasure of having those witty remarks that spurt out from that little mouth of yours replaced with incomprehensible whines and begs for your precious Suguru to fill you to the brim. And now that you also admit to thinking along the same lines earlier, Daishou knows the dirty little thoughts clouding into your mind already.

Some slut that you are, acting proper and put-together at work, basking in the praise from co-workers and the boss; they just don’t know how ten minutes after those morning touchpoint meetings, you are bouncing on Daishou’s cock in a hidden corner while the financial markets open for the day. It’s an art, really, the number of quicks you two manage to fit into the crevices of a busy office schedule. But that’s why Daishou is one of the best employees of the firm. Daishou Suguru works quickly. He works efficiently.

The patterns Daishou's fingers trace tickle and send shivers up the skin. His low voice and hot breath across your ear elicits a soft gasp as you press your thighs together in the tight, figure-hugging skirt, seeking some hidden relief for the needy throb inside. The scrap of fabric down there is barely able to soak up the wetness beginning to pool. You are pressed up against him for comfort and security, your breasts plush against his chest. Each inhale and exhale you take is a test of patience.

"T-there's a camera," you remind him through shaky breaths, eyes flickering to the black mechanism in the corner. This is your final thread.

Daishou eyes the camera that is staring expectantly at the tryst about to happen in the cramped space with a wicked grin. Like that has ever bothered you, but if you want to play coy, he’ll humor you. He pinches the soft flesh on your thighs. "But we both know you're an attention whore. Always wanting to be the center of attention?"

You bite your lip to stop a whimper and look away, unwilling to admit that Daishou is completely right. You're already squirming in anticipation and delight. How cute, Daishou savors before deftly undoing the first two buttons of your crisp blouse. He has all of your clothes memorized, and how to take them off in the least amount of steps. At this point, it's completely second nature, and even if it isn't, the particular outfit you are wearing today has a special pedestal in Daishou's memory of interests. He pulls the tucked fabric apart to expose your delicate neckline and the soft curves of your breasts in the bra.

Oh, this one? What a coincidence then. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and deeply inhales the scent of your lingering fragrance. His hot breath and tantalizing lips drag across your collarbone, brushing your sensitive skin.

"So fucking sexy. Let's put on a show shall we?"

The thread snaps.

You harshly tug on the Daishou’s tie and capture his lips with yours. Daishou presses his body even closer, resting a forearm right above your head to cage you against the elevator wall. You wrap your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his hair, as you meld into the searing kiss. The zipper of your skirt is tugged and the fabric is pushed up to your waist. His hand snakes up your thigh and a thumb hooks the side of your panties, pulling the soaked scrap down.

"Step," he instructs, pulling your panties down all the way and guiding your heeled feet out. "Don't want them dropping on the floor," he says, tucking the bunched fabric into his shirt pocket.

"Touch me, please," you beg, pulling Daishou back to you. You grab his hand and lead him to between your legs, grinding yourself against his thick fingers for some relief.

“No need to rush, the elevator isn't getting fixed anytime soon," he coos, "We're not going to get distracted this time."

Daishou spreads your lips apart and rubs along your sensitive bud, coating his digits with your slick. "Fuck, you're so wet already," he marvels before slipping a finger in and then another.

Daishou pumps his fingers in and out of your sopping pussy, occasionally dragging over to circle your clit. "That's it, isn't it?" he groans, feeling your walls clench around his fingers when he finds the spot that has you falling apart into streams of whines and mewls.

Daishou withdraws his fingers and brings the glistening digits up for you to see. "How much are you enjoying this? Wanting to be fucked in an elevator, watched by who knows who behind that camera."

You whimper and watch Daishou take the coated fingers in his mouth, licking off every drop of you. "You taste so good," he breathes, before pulling you into a kiss and letting you have a taste of your own arousal.

You break out of the kiss and turn around, resting your hands on the handrail. "S-Suguru, want you in me," you beg. You bend over just enough for your Daishou to see how much more wet you've gotten from tasting yourself on him. Your glistening hole is dripping and desperately clenching around nothing.

"Patience, princess." Daishou quickly unbuckles his belt and lets the cock pressing against his tight slacks spring free. He prepares to give himself a few more strokes but you reach behind and slap his hand away, replacing the hand on his cock with your own.

"Fuck," he groans, bucking his hips into your hands. "Always the impatient one."

"Hurry...please."

The building anticipation is making your knees weak and head dizzy already. You keep both hands on the handrails for support and squirm over trying to better line yourself for that thickness you need to fill your hole.

"Shit, stop teasing me!"

Beep.

The emergency intercom you pressed when the elevator first malfunctioned finally lights up. The line connects after a moment of static and radio noise and temporarily shocks a thread of rationality into your thoughts.

"Hello? Hello? Are we connected now, finally? Hello? Can you hear me?" the voice urges from the other end.

"Ah-" you gasp out, feeling Daishou fingers draw out slow circles on your clit. You press your lips tightly together to muffle a moan.

"Ma'am? Ma'am, can you hear me?"

Daishou leans next to your ear. "Answer them, sweetheart." The tip of his cock teases the entrance of your pussy, running along the wet lips. "Do well and I'll give it to you."

You manage, with difficulty, squeak out, "Y-yes!"

"Good girl."

Your legs buckle slightly when you feel Daishou's thick cock being pushed into you, finally giving you the gratification you have been craving during Daishou's ministrations.

"Oh, careful now, don't want you falling over," Daishou's grip on your hips tightens and he groans at how warm, wet and tight you are around him. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good," he mutters under his breath.

The speaker buzzes again. "Great, finally connected. Ma'am are you doing okay still?"

"Yes!" you cry out as Daishou gives a firm and deep thrust; a wave of pleasure shoots through you.

"Don't panic, our team is already coming—" The line disconnects as abruptly.

Daishou revels at how your soft walls hug and clench around him. By all means, he didn't expect the interruption happening at all. It seems like you are not the only impatient person, he wonders, before flashing a nasty look at the camera in the corner and flipping said object off.

"Come on, princess,” he encourages and pats the side of your ass lightly. “Let me hear how pretty you sound."

"Sugu—" you gasp out, feeling the tip of his cock rocking into you. "R-right there right, ah—"

"Yea, you like that?" Daishou groans, pushing into you again feeling your walls clamp around him so tightly. So perfectly. It's addicting and all he can do is thrust in and out, over and over again. Each time seeking out the sounds of your pretty moans when you are completely filled and stuffed with him.

Lewd squelches and the slaps of skin meeting flesh fill the elevator space, along with Daishou’s grunts and your pants. Your hips meet each of Daishou’s thrusts in perfect rhythm, taking his entire length until the base. You can feel each stroke dragging along your walls, the size and length of his cock pushing against your tightness and prodding your cervix.

Neither of you can bother with any other distractions now that bliss is just teetering on the edge. Daishou pulls out and turns you around so you face him. He then scoops you up from under your ass with your legs spread over his forearms and hoists you up against the elevator wall. You feel the stinging cold from the cylindrical edge of the handrail as a dubious support against your heated skin.

"Suguru!" you squeal out, "I'll fall! I'll—"

"I got you, don't worry," Daishou reassures, "You're okay, I won't let you fall."

Once he feels your arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders, Daishou slides into you again with a loud squelch.

"We're right outside now! Won't be long before we get you two out." A loud voice calls out from beyond the shut elevator doors.

"Smile for the camera, princess," Daishou encourages before picking up the pace, chasing the high that's just around the corner. His thrusts become faster and rougher, hitting your sweet spot deep inside you over and over again making your mind spin. The countless reflected images of Daishou's unrelenting pursuit and speed, and the expression of your fucked out face collide together in a blurry, infinite kaleidoscope.

“Gonna cum! Gonna-”

All thoughts leave your mind with each ragged breath as you near your own edge. You can only cling onto Daishou tightly, nails digging into his shoulder and back. You don't hear the sounds of mechanical whirring outside the elevator. Whatever it is that the people are shouting outside does not matter. The bright lights don't make any sense to you anymore. You don't even remember what Daishou Suguru looks like.

The blank stare from the camera is the last thing you see before you squeeze your eyes shut, face tucked in the crook of Daishou’s neck, and body feeling like putty in his arms. All that's left is the euphoria sparking through and broken syllabylic babbles you struggle to utter out.

With a few final thrusts, Daishou grunts and pulls you completely flush against his hips, finally spilling himself into you. Release after a long day never feels this sweet, Daishou muses as he holds your languid body close. Each deep breath you take only pushes your soft breast against his chest, and Daishou can feel your spasming walls still hugging him. He peppers a few kisses on your sweat covered brow. So good, so fucking good.

The voices and mechanical whirs outside interrupt Daishou’s moment.

That’s right, we’re still in this damn elevator. Daishou carefully pulls out his softened and twitching cock and lowers your wobbly form down from your make-shift seat. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the drool from your face then lightly dab away the trail of mixed fluids seeping out of your puffy cunt. The overly saturated handkerchief does a poor job soaking away the mess the two of you made.

Daishou reaches for the crumpled panties he shoved into the shirt pocket, but decides against letting you wear it. In your current state, your legs are like a newborn deer, barely able to support you let alone try to maneuver into underwear.

"Once we get back to my place, I'll draw us a bath.”

The increasingly loud mechanical clamor and sounds of the elevator workers pull you out of your daze for a moment too. You try to fumble around and haphazardly button your shirt, but the buttons miss their proper buttonhole by one. You pout and look at Daishou who just buckled his belt and tucked in the edges of his crumpled shirt. He looks ready for a client meeting already, if not for the obvious smell of sex clinging into him.

Daishou chuckles at your state and helps you slip into his long coat. He kisses your brow again in apology. "Sorry baby, just bear with it for a moment."

"Hungry."

"Yes, yes. I'll order your favorite too, like I promised."

You nod, pleased with his answer.

Ding.

The doors of the elevator open, to the relief of the elevator workers outside. They were in the process of getting ready to pry the doors open, but it seems like the elevator is back to normal already.

"Sir, Ma'am, we apologize for our tardiness."

Daishou waves a hand. "Not at all, it was fine. My girlfriend," he nods to your hidden form in the coat, "a bit frazzled, that's all."

Daishou's coat is like a bathrobe and hides absolutely everything. Turn up the collar, hide your face in Daishou's neck, and no one can see the mess that you are still underneath the thick layer. If they don't look, they won't know about the cum that's already dripping out and trailing down the curves of your legs into your scuffed heels.

"Is she okay? If there are any problems, we can direct you to-"

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of her. Thanks for helping fix the elevator." Not that there was anything wrong with it to begin with.

"We'll be inspecting all the elevators in the building as well. We assure you this will never happen again."

The musty smell of sweat and sex is all that lingers in the elevator, but it'll dissipate soon enough. Maybe there are tiny puddles of your juices on the tiles but the 5 A.M. cleaning workers will wipe it all away. By tomorrow, the elevator and rest of the building will be just the way it always is again. The stainless steel is cold, and the glass panels are pristine. In the early hours of the morning, leather shoes and heels will be strutting around on the marbled floors. Phone calls. Printers. Clients. Meetings. And more overtime.

Daishou smirks to himself, supporting just about your entire weight. His phone rings in his coat pocket. He reaches for the device and answers the call. Those bastards.

"Heh, glad you enjoyed the show you fucker. And tell Kenma, 'that was a dick move he pulled back there.'"

He listens to the response from the other line.

"Yea sure, thanks for hacking the system...uh huh, tell him to cum in your dirty sock-rag then...yea whatever, go eat shit."

Daishou ends the call and shoves the phone into his pocket.

"Su-gu-ru..." you mumble.

"Yes princess?"

"...Pitchbook..."

Daishou presses a light kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

Even all fucked out, you still manage to not forget about corporate responsibilities, some overachieving show-off you are. After getting you cleaned up and warm, he'll finish up any remaining work. Daishou Suguru works quickly. He works efficiently.

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 12

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: kidnapping, violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“They couldn’t take that from me. They could never take you.”

“I never want to bring you pain or worry, okay? That shouldn’t be what… we do.”

Bucky’s words rang in your head as you sat in the lonesome cell, fighting for release any way you thought to try. But naturally, these attempts of wrangling yourself out of this had fallen flat and you weren’t trying anymore, that’s for certain. It only made the restraints dig into your wrists more. Not to mention you were beyond tired hitting a point of exhaustion that you didn't know was possible. You weren’t given a chance to relax as you sat on edge, waiting. Waiting for what - or really who - you didn’t quite know. 

Sure, you had an Avenger for a soulmate (at least, that was what you considered Bucky, despite his humbleness) but you weren’t exactly up to date on their enemies. From your understanding, between the looks of the facility and your soulmate’s history, this was seeming like the work of Hydra. But they had been abolished...right? Apparently, you didn’t know anymore and doubts rang in your head as you feared you weren’t some random victim.

The first signs of daylight were just beginning to peek into your cell from a very tiny, thin window located near the top of the wall beside you.

Suddenly, a grumbling voice called from outside the cell. “She’s up.” You whipped your head towards the sound, just barely able to make out a figure illuminated by the early morning glow. There was probably some comment to make to whoever this was about how you hadn’t really slept but you couldn’t find your voice at the moment.

“Excellent.” A deeper, possibly older, voice called from down the hall. The man sounded way too excited for your liking. Your stomach threatened to empty its contents as heavy footsteps began making their way towards your cell.

When the steps stopped, you tried squinting through the minimal light but still couldn’t make out much of either man. If you had to guess, they looked like some doctors of sorts in long lab coats with notebooks in hand. One thing you definitely could tell was that they didn’t hesitate to stare back. You could feel their eyes taking you in over and over again making your heart pound in a weirdly familiar way.

“Does she speak?” The first man asked with a humorless scoff. You twisted in your wrist restraints wishing for some courage to get up and maybe put space between you. 

Mustering a scrap of energy, you turned away from the men, hoping maybe your matted hair falling in your face could block them out forever. Because really, couldn’t this be forever? How would anyone know what happened? Your best bet was your coworker noticing your absence but then you thought of Bucky… He was away for now and by the time he caught wind who knows what would be of you. Tears began welling in your eyes at the thought of this being it for you -- whatever this was. You still weren’t sure what about you compelled these men to kidnap you in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” the same voice called out to you this time, pulling you from your troubling thoughts. Slowly, you turned back to him, taking in more of the doctor (fake, you guessed) persona now. “I asked if you speak.”

“No,” you grumbled. You didn’t know where this smart response came from but it made you feel a bit better like you were coming back to yourself. Really, though, you were in no position to start getting smart with anyone.

He let out a joyous laugh that sent far more fear through you. “The Soldier’s soulmate has an attitude, huh?”

Soldier? Bucky. Your heart panged at another thought of him. If that’s who they were referring to, this was to be about Bucky, you realized. These men knew him and whatever connection was festered there, it hadn't fizzled and you were caught in the crossfire. This actually couldn’t be them… But it looked like it.

Suddenly, the cell door opened with a loud screech, and the two men walked into the full glory of the morning sunrise. There, on their white coats, you saw an emblem of what appeared to be some tentacle-bearing creature. Your suspicions were regrettably confirmed. 

They walked towards you, their eyes looking over you as if you were an experiment and they were memorizing you. With fear racing through you, you slowly began scooting backward trying to get as far away as you could. Your back eventually hit a wall and they just kept coming. 

“Quite the squeamish one for being chained to The Soldier,” the second man observed, writing something down in his notebook. You could see now that he was much older, having that wiser look in his older years. You guessed he was a leader of sorts (at least, that was how you were going to file him in your head) and the other man, the one who was so kind to comment on your attitude, was some kind of assistant. You couldn’t take your eyes off the logo on their coats as it was practically screaming in your face. It all felt impossible and yet here you were, in the belly of the beast.

“W-What am I doing here?” You asked, your voice scratchy and nervous. Honestly, you were just glad you had the guts to make any noise. The assistant looked a bit humored at your question.

“Wow, she speaks full sentences,” he commented with an unsettling smirk. 

The “leader” of the pair shot him a look before turning back to speak to you. “We have some observing to do, my dear,” he briefly explained.

The vagueness of it all was certainly not helping you - like anything realistically could in this moment. Still, you pursued it. “Observing?”

He hummed in response, turning back for a moment to write a few more lines in the notebook. Truthfully, you wanted to just kick it out of his fucking hand. Your eyes flicked quickly to the assistant but he wasn’t handing out any hints, just looking at you like you were something to be conquered. Oh, how you wanted to vomit on their shiny dress shoes.

“I will explain our intentions to ease your mind,” he snapped his notebook shut, “but first, you are to be moved.”

And just like, as if his words were keys, a hoard of men entered the cell and hoisted you to your feet. You tried kicking and screaming but they were strong. Maybe too strong. A strength you possibly could only recall in two other men you knew. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as they corralled you easily and forced you down the hall. 

Everything was dark again. There was no light from the windows in the hall, just some musty glows of lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. You didn’t know where to look so you just stared downward, taking in the metal flooring that made you chilled.

After turning a few corners, you were brought to a much larger cell. This one at least had a chair, but you didn’t think it was exactly a nice grand gesture as your eyes landed on the restraints attached to it. The second thing you noticed was some sort of computer-like machine and rolling tables which lined the side. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought this was just another medical office. 

You yelped as one of the large men threw you on the chair, not giving you a second to even adjust before your hands were unbound only to be rebound by the chair’s restraints.  You tugged a bit at them out of reflex, finding them as sturdy as expected. Your legs were free, though, maybe offering some tactic but exhaustion and fear overtook you.

Once they deemed you settled in, the army of men left, walking in line as commandingly as they had entered. The leader and his assistant stayed, waiting for you three to finally be alone once more. The door shut with a disturbing bang, really sealing your fate. The assistant stayed off to the side, leaning against a wall adjacent to the chair. The leader walked over to you, taking a seat on some rolling stool. Wow, these guys really thought they were serious professionals or something.

“I hope the trip here was okay,” the leader said with a chuckle. “Comfortable?” He motioned towards your lounging state. You blinked. “I see we are losing that attitude. What a shame, really. I’m sure your soulmate loves a firecracker.” Your body visibly tensed at the mention of Bucky. The elderly man didn’t miss it. In fact, it seemed like you unintentionally gave him the perfect segue into his whole evil spiel.

“Ah, yes, your soulmate.” The leader nodded as if he had just forgotten all about it. “Well, you see, the fact he even has one was news to us,” he shrugged and glanced at his assistant who nodded in confirmation. “We were sure when we wiped him we were wiping everything, so imagine our surprise when we find out he’s out and about dancing - with you on his arm.” 

Your throat tightened as the memories of you and Bucky at the dance hall flooded your mind. It had been so busy that night you never would’ve thought you’d have to worry about someone… It sounded so ludicrous to you. You almost wish he hadn’t said it as the thoughts of that night were suddenly a bit darker. The carelessness you two had held seemed foolish now. 

The leader watched you carefully. When you didn’t say anything in response, just blinked away more tears, he continued, “At first, we were quite angry we had missed something so big. We could’ve sworn we broke every attachment time after time but, as I said, you just swept The Soldier right off his feet. So, naturally, our sights were set on eliminating you.” He let out a ridiculous hearty laugh. “But then my assistant here,” the man in the corner waved in response, “realized that that would be a waste. There could be potential here for you. For you and your soulmate. Potential rooted in a team. Two unbreakable soldiers, both in bond and skills. What more could Hydra want?” 

You gasped, your eyes growing wide, at the explanation. You didn’t know what to do now, your body had a mind of its own as it began shaking your head furiously as your wrists tugged and tugged at the restraints. This wasn’t realistic. They were absolutely mad. What kind of foolishness was this? They couldn’t possibly -

“Now, now,” the leader chuckled and turned to his notebook. He began checking referencing stuff from the monitor to the paper. “Don’t get too excited. We’re still brainstorming the whole concept and while it’s not near execution, it is on the promising side. There is, though, a vital component we seem to be lacking: your soulmate.”

Bucky… Your heart felt like it was going to rip itself out of your chest. Was he walking into a trap? Assuming he was walking in at all? Who was to say he had any idea of what was going on with you? How long could this all be for… You let out a surprising sob.

The leader responded to your outburst with an annoyed scoff. “There’s no reason to cry, dear. He’s sure to be here soon thanks to that little bond you have. If he hasn’t already recognized your distress by now, well, he’s not as smart as we thought.” He shrugged and began typing away on the monitor’s keyboard. “The whole attachment may all work out in our favor after all. Eventually, you two will be reunited, and won’t that be just lovely?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know anymore. You had no doubt in Bucky’s fighting abilities but these guys were… Well, they were pretty much responsible for him and everything you had seen him be put through. Who knows what they could do if (and when) he walked through those doors. You were lucky you hadn’t passed out yet from this anxiety alone.

“Besides, as I said, it’s all later down the line anyway,” the leader said. It had suddenly occurred to you at that moment that you were very glad he hadn’t given out his name. You couldn’t imagine humanizing these monsters. “For now, though, we are interested in learning more about you. I’ll be honest, on paper you are quite boring. Barely finished high school, left college for a coffee shop job… The pairing is almost comical. We just can’t figure out what you offer him and while, really, who are we to question Fate? But I still think in time we can figure out...well, whatever it is about you.”

You shook your head slowly, your eyes barely even able to focus on him anymore. Everything in you felt so heavy. “I’m not special.” 

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” the leader chuckled. “He makes you special.”

As if on cue, a chorus of screams erupted from the hallway. You all jumped and turned towards the door. There was a little window on it but all you three could see were the bodies of the army of men from earlier flying about. 

“Sooner than we expected,” the leader mumbled and began furiously typing something into the computer.

You didn’t know what to do besides sit there and wait for whatever was coming. Deep in you, you knew it was Bucky, you could feel it. You could feel him. But there was also a part of you that could also sense… rage. A very familiar, unsettling rage burned within him. It made you wonder if you actually wanted to see him in such a state. Some sick piece of you wished they had just knocked you out. 

There wasn’t much more time to consider what you were going to do as the door to the cell was ripped off. Literally, fully, ripped away at the hinges to reveal a very determined, very angry, Bucky. He had an expression you didn’t recall seeing before, even in the nightmares. He looked ready to murder everything in its path but there was no calculated strategy to the madness. It seemed to be just him and his pure desire to eliminate anything and everything. His eyes were locked deadly on the older man, seemingly opting to ignore you. The assistant had begun shifting further away into the corner of the space.

“So nice of you to join us,” the leader said with an unsettling laugh. “I’ll admit, we weren’t expecting you so soon. I barely got a chance to get to know your little darling here.” He motioned towards you. 

“I’m only going to ask this once,” Bucky finally spoke, his voice strained, “let her go.”

The leader smiled, “I’m not sure you’ll be asking for anything in a moment, anyways.” He motioned towards the computer. You and Bucky followed his motion with matching bewildered expressions. “In fact, I think you’ll be the one doing what I ask.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “No-,” 

But it was already set in motion. With a simple press of a button, the room filled with an electronic voice repeating a series of words in a foreign language. You looked around, unsure of where this could even be coming from and what the hell was being said, Your eyes eventually settled on Bucky who looked completely… lost. You gripped the sides of the chair, begging for this to just be over, as you watched that was so familiar. You could feel the memories rising from the depths of your brain. Hidden away, nearly suppressed... You gasped. The nightmares. That’s what all this was. They had pulled the trigger. 

As much as you loved and trusted Bucky, you couldn’t say the same for the other guy. If in that state, could he even recognize you? Like, fully understand your role? You didn’t want to find out, truly. The panic that was settling in now was unlike anything you had experienced that day. Not even the idea of Hydra goons kidnapping you had sparked this much within. 

You were preparing yourself for the worst as you watched Bucky try to shake it off. The leader wore a proud expression while the assistant kept his lonely distance, watching everything unfold. Suddenly, Bucky began mumbling to himself as his hands made hard fists. You thought the blow was finally coming and he was going to be gone. Just like that.

But then Bucky lunged. In one swift move, he pounced on the leader, taking everyone in the room off-guard, especially the target of the aggression. The older man hadn’t even had a chance to put his arms up before your soulmate was punching him relentlessly. Bucky’s yelling in the process was of pure, expressive anger, completely drowning out the screams of pain from the leader. You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to look away so badly but you were also hypnotized. Bucky was so determined and unwavering in whatever goal was planted in his head. A bit thankful someone would go to such lengths for you, you had had enough of such danger in your sleep - you didn’t want it in your reality. 

Bucky switched suddenly to strangling the man and that seemed to be the final straw for the leader’s life. The older man was soon just a lifeless, limp body on the floor. Bucky was still knelt above him, watching the soul drain from his victim. Your jaw went slack. You couldn’t turn this off.

The assistant didn’t help it as he made some foolish break for the exit but Bucky was just as fast. In a couple of determined strides, Bucky yanked the younger man back by the neck and threw him into the wall creating an artistic indentation. The assistant fell to the floor with a chilling thud. 

There was no one left for his sights to land on except for you. Slowly, Bucky turned around. A shiver ran up your spine when your eyes finally met. You didn’t know who was standing before you. Whatever or whoever this was quickly began stomping their way towards you. You shut your eyes and flinched away, waiting for a painful, finishing blow from the Soldier. 

But it never came. 

Instead, all Bucky did was lean over to turn off the speakers and then began untying your wrists. Hesitantly, you turned to look at him but found he wouldn’t look at you, just was intensely concentrated on the restraints. 

“B-Bucky?” Your voice was scratchy as you fumbled over his name. 

“It’s me, doll,” Bucky responded with an exhausted sigh. He sounded normal to you, his demeanor not even looking close to what you remembered from the nightmares. He… He was okay. Bucky still wasn’t looking at you as he finished one restraint then went on the next.

“You’re not…”

Bucky shook his head. “Everything’s okay,” he mumbled. “We’re getting you out of here.”

“We?”

“The team is outside handling the other men.”

“You all came for me?”

Bucky finally looked up at you. For the first time, you could see just how tired he looked. A man nearly on the brink of defeat and enduring the fight. Your heart ached as all you wanted to do was crawl into his arms and take the longest naps of your lives. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bucky nodded. Gently, after the last restraint was undone, he picked you up bridal style. You threw your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder, letting yourself relax and the tears flow. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled but Bucky didn’t respond as he carried you out of the facility

***

You must’ve fallen asleep because a few hours later you awoke at some sort of compound. You were lying in what appeared to be a hospital bed but nothing about this place looked like a typical hospital. The technology was too advanced and everything just seemed too quiet. You looked around, letting your eyes adjust to the bright light of the sun shining in from the large room windows. In the corner, you were greeted by the sight of Bucky sleeping awkwardly in a chair.

You twisted in the bed, trying to get more comfortable under the blanket. The super-soldier hearing must’ve kicked in because one ruffle of the blanket made Bucky’s eyes shoot open. He looked at you, panic shifting to relief when he saw you were awake. Quickly, in a few steps, he was out of the chair and at your bedside. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly. His hand went to touch your cheek but he must've thought better of it and instead lowered it. Your heart broke a bit wondering what self-deprecating thoughts were running through his brain after everything he had to do. 

“I’m okay. Just a bit sore,” you shrugged but boy was it the hard truth. You hadn't been in a comfortable position in hours and endured being thrown around like some rag doll. 

“Do you need any medicine?” Bucky asked, his voice suddenly having an air of panic to it. “I can call for help if you need it. Are you hungry? Do you need water? Or -  Or just anything to drink? I can get you-,”

“Bucky…” You placed your hand on his to calm down. He flinched at your touch. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

He shook his head. “Nothing is fine, sweetheart. You were taken from me-,” Bucky cut himself off as his eyes began welling with tears. He looked wrecked as he stared down at you, taking in your current state. You felt the pain, wanting nothing more than to make all these torturing thoughts vanish. “You… You saw things that I just… I never wanted you to deal with-,”

“It’s over.” You took a deep breath. “I’m here, I’m safe, and you’re with me.”

Bucky closed his eyes as if preparing for something. “After what happened back there, do you even want me around anymore?”

Your jaw went slack at his question. Sure, there was absolutely no denying that the events of today scared you, most likely more than you realized. You had only seen Bucky that determined and violent in your nightmares so to see it just steps away was jarring. But you also knew nothing changed within him. He wasn’t a robot or anything. He wasn’t someone just taking commands. He had remorse. You certainly couldn’t say the same for who greeted you in your sleep. It may take you some time to adjust, sure, but you weren’t turning away. At least, you were going to try not to. Healing was just beginning.

“Of course, I do,” you said, raising your other hand to Bucky’s cheek. At first, he flinched but slowly he leaned into the touch, sighing like he was letting go of something. “Bucky, what happened back there… You had no choice. I don’t have to tell you that those were some very, very bad people. They had it coming and the fact you went to those lengths to save me is unbelievable.”

“I’d go to the ends of the Earth for my girl,” Bucky admitted. 

You let out a weak giggle. “Thank you.” A pause. “May I ask how you figured out I was in trouble?”

Bucky smirked. “I had a nightmare.”

You raised your brows in surprise. “A nightmare?”

He nodded, “I started to feel weird after leaving for the mission like there was something I was missing. A little later on, I was taking a nap and you of course appeared but it was unlike any other dream I had ever had about you. It was… You were scared, deathly afraid of something, and then I saw what was going on. I practically watched it all play out from your apartment and on. It didn’t take too long to put everything together.”

You hmm’d. “Thank God for nightmares.”

Bucky chuckled and placed a light kiss on your forehead. “Thank God for nightmares,” he repeated in agreement.

[mommymooze]

Mani/Pedi Madness

Various customers visit the new shop 

Lysithia & Hilda

 A new booth opens in the merchant’s area of Garreg Mach causing excitement throughout the monastery, especially the students.

 The construction of the vendor’s booth is complete. The dark green curtains are open today. A lovely lady with long shiny red fingernails is at the front of the booth greeting potential customers. The sign in front of her desk offers a list of their beauty treatments. Manicures and Pedicures are their specialty.

 “Ooooh! How exciting!” Giggles Hilda as she reads through the list of offerings. “I must have the super deluxe treatment.” She squeals as she hands the woman a sack of gold.

 Lysithia nods. “I will have the deluxe manicure.” She requests, keeping her voice low so as not to show too much excitement. It sounds much more mature.

 They are led to different areas of the booth, close enough that they can talk to each other while being pampered. Hilda removes her boots and socks, placing them on a shelf and is led to a chair. Her hands and feet are placed in dishes of warm and soapy water that has sprigs of lavender floating within. Lysithia hands are soaked as well. Softened hands are washed off with warm wet cloths, slightly massaging them.

 “I love this already!” Hilda laughs. “The hand massage, I could sit for an hour of this, maybe two.”

 “It does feel rather pleasant.” Lysithia agrees, hiding the smile of contentment on her face.

 More warm water is added to the footbath for Hilda as the manicurist works on cleansing and trimming Hilda’s nails.

 “Do you wish them shorter? The same length?” The worker asks.

 “I want to keep much of the length but make them even.” Hilda answers.

 The worker cleans then trims her fingernails, filing any sharp edges with a special stone. She then buffs and polishes the nails themselves, bringing out a beautiful natural shine.

 “Polish color?” the woman asks.

 “Pink, close to my hair color.” Hilda smiles.

 The worker offers a selection of polishes recommending one in particular, Hilda agreeing with the choice. Her nails are painted quickly and perfectly. Not a smudge or missed spot to be seen. Hilda admires the work as the attendant takes the water from her feet. Suddenly she is leaned back in the chair, her feet raised from the ground and lifted as the chair goes back to a comfortable angle and her calves rest upon a cushioned leather pillow covered by a towel. Her feet are expertly massaged. She cannot help but let out a few pleasurable moans. This is the best her feet have felt since she arrived at the monastery. She’s going to have one of these as soon as she returns from the next march. The manicurist uses different stones to shave the calluses bit by bit from her feet, then massages in another lotion to moisturize them. Her toenails are trimmed, filed and painted the same color as her fingers. Hilda almost falls asleep, lying back in the chair after being thoroughly pampered. She decides she must have one of these comfortable lounging chairs for herself.

 Lysithia receives the treatment to her hands. Nails are trimmed, filed, buffed then painted. She decides to have a stone embellishment, a small clear crystal attacked to the center of her pinky finger of each hand. The deep purple nail polish compliments her style.

 “I don’t want to put my shoes on, my feet are too pretty to be covered up.” Hilda moans. But she does because the stones on the walkway are painful.

How lucky for this new merchant to have been visited by the ultimate fashionista of Garreg Mach. This will become quite a popular place.

[path-of-my-childhood]

CABIN FEVER - Aaron Dessner: Producing folklore and evermore

Sound On Sound Magazine // March 2021 issue // By Tom Doyle

The pandemic gave Taylor Swift a chance to explore new musical paths, with two lockdown albums co-written and produced by the National's Aaron Dessner.

Few artists during the pandemic have been as prolific as Taylor Swift. In July 2020, she surprise-released folklore, a double-length album recorded entirely remotely and in isolation. It went on to become the biggest global seller of the year, with four million sales and counting. Then, in December, she repeated the trick with the 15-song evermore, which quickly became Swift's eighth consecutive US number one.

In contrast to her country-music roots and the shiny synth-pop that made her a superstar, both folklore and evermore showcased a very different Taylor Swift sound: one veering more towards atmospheric indie and folk. The former album was part-produced by Swift and her regular co-producer Jack Antonoff (St Vincent, Lana Del Rey), while the other half of the tracks were overseen by a new studio collaborator, Aaron Dessner of the National. For evermore, aside from one Antonoff-assisted song, Dessner took full control of production.

Good Timing

Although his band are hugely popular and even won a Grammy for their 2017 album Sleep Well Beast, Aaron Dessner admits that it initially felt strange for an indie-rock guitarist and keyboard player to be pulled into such a mainstream project. Swift had already declared herself a fan of the National, and first met the band back in 2014. Nonetheless, Dessner was still surprised when the singer sent him a text "out of the blue" last spring. "I mean, I didn't think it was a hoax," he laughs. "But it was very exciting and a moment where you think it's like serendipity or something, especially in the middle of the pandemic. When she asked if I would ever consider writing with her, I just happened to have a lot of music that I had worked really hard on. So, the timing was sort of lucky. It opened up this crazy period of collaboration. It was a pretty wild ride."

Since 2016, Aaron Dessner has been based at his self-built rural facility, Long Pond Studio, in the Hudson Valley, upstate New York. The only major change to the studio since SOS last spoke to Dessner in October 2017 has been the addition of a vintage WSW Siemens console built in 1965. "It had been refurbished by someone," he says, "and I think there's only three of them in the United States. I heard it was for sale from our friend [and the National producer/mixer] Peter Katis. That's a huge improvement here."

Although the National made Sleep Well Beast and its 2019 successor I Am Easy To Find at Long Pond, the band members are scattered around the US and Europe, meaning Dessner is no stranger to remote working and file sharing. This proved to be invaluable for his work with Swift. Dessner spent the first six weeks of lockdown writing music that he believed to be for Big Red Machine, his project with Bon Iver's Justin Vernon. Instead, many of these work-in-progress tracks would end up on folklore. Their first collaboration (and the album's first single), 'cardigan', for instance, emerged from an idea Dessner had been working on backstage during the National's European arena tour of Winter 2019.

"I sent her a folder and in the middle of the night she sent me that song," Dessner explains. "So, the next morning I was just listening to it, like, `Woah, OK, this is crazy."

On The Move

As work progressed, it quickly became apparent that Swift and Dessner were very much in tune as a songwriting and producing unit. There was very little Dessner had to do, he says, in terms of chopping vocals around to shape the top lines. "I think it's because I'm so used to structuring things like a song, with verses and choruses and bridges," he reckons. "In most cases, she sort of kept the form. If she had a different idea, she would tell me when she was writing and I would chop it up for her and send it to her. But, mostly, things kind of stayed in the form that we had."

Dessner and Swift were working intensively and at high speed throughout 2020, so much so that on one occasion the producer sent the singer a track and went out for a run in the countryside around Long Pond. By the time he got back, Swift had already written 'the last great american dynasty' and it was waiting for him in his inbox. "That was a crazy moment," he laughs. "One of the astonishing things about Taylor is what a brilliant songwriter she is and the clarity of her ideas and, when she has a story to tell, the way she can tell it. I think she's just been doing it for so long, she has a facility that makes you feel like you could never do what she's capable of. But we were a good pair because I think the music was inspiring to her in such a way that the stories were coming."

Swift's contributions to folklore were recorded in a makeshift studio in her Los Angeles home. Laura Sisk engineered the sessions as the singer recorded her vocals, using a Neumann U47, in a neighbouring bedroom. Live contact between Swift, Sisk, Dessner and Long Pond engineer Jonathan Low was done through real-time online collaboration platform Audiomovers.

"We would listen in remotely and kind of go back and forth," says Dessner. "We used Audiomovers and then we would have Zoom as a backup. But mainly we were just using Audiomovers, so we could actually be in her headphones. It's powerful, it's great. I've used it a lot with people during this time. Then, later on, when we recorded evermore, a lot of the vocals were done here at the studio actually when Taylor was visiting when we did the [Disney+ documentary] Long Pond Sessions. But Taylor's vocals for folklore were all done remotely."

Keeping Secrets

Given the huge international interest in Swift, the team had to work with an elaborate file-sharing arrangement to ensure that the tracks didn't leak online. Understandably, Dessner won't be drawn on the specifics. "Yeah, I mean we had to be very careful, so everything was very secretive," he says. "There were passwords on both ends and we communicated in a specific way when sharing mixes and everything. There was a high level of confidentiality and data encryption. It was sort of a learning curve.

"I'm not used to that," he adds, "'cause usually we're just letting files kind of fly all over the Internet [laughs]. But I think with someone like her, there's just so many people that are paying attention to every move that she makes, which can be a little, I think, oppressive for her. We tried to make it as comfortable as possible and we got used to how to get things to her and back to us. It worked pretty well."

Drums & Guitars

For the generally minimalist beat programming on the records, Dessner would sometimes turn to his more expensive new analogue drum generators - Vermona's DRM1 and Dave Smith's Tempest - but more often used the Synthetic Bits iOS app FunkBox. "There's just a lot of great vintage drum machine sounds in there, and they sound pretty cool, especially if you overdrive it," he says. "Often I send that through an amplifier, or through effects into an amplifier. Then I have a [Roland) TR-8 and a TR-8S that I use a lot. I also use the drum machine in the [Teenage Engineering] OP-1. So, a song like 'willow', that's just me tapping the OP-1."

Elsewhere, Dessner's guitar work appears on the tracks, with the intricate melodic layering on 'the last great american dynasty' from folklore having been inspired by Radiohead's In Rainbows. "Almost all of the electric guitar on Taylor's records is played direct through a REDDI DI into the Siemens board," he says. "It's usually just my 1971 Telecaster played direct and it just sounds great. Oftentimes I just put a little spring reverb on it and sometimes I'll overdrive the board like it's an amplifier, 'cause it breaks up really beautifully.

"I have a 1965 [Gibson] Firebird that I play usually through this 1965 Fender Deluxe Reverb. So, if I am playing into an amp, that's what it is. But on 'the last great american dynasty', those little pointillistic guitars, that's just played direct with the Telecaster through the board."

Elsewhere, Aaron Dessner took Taylor Swift even further out of her sonic comfort zone. A key track on folklore, the Cocteau Twins-styled 'epiphany', features her voice amid a wash of ambient textures, created by Dessner slowing down and reversing various instrumental parts in Pro Tools. "I created a drone using the Mellotron [MD4000D] and the Prophet and the OP-1 and all kinds of synth pads," he says. "Then I duplicated all the tracks, and some of them I reversed and some of them I dropped an octave. All manner of using varispeed and Polyphonic Elastic Audio and changing where they were sitting. Just to create like this Icelandic glacier of sounds was my idea. Then I wrote the chord progression against that.

"The [Pro Tools] session was not happy," he adds with a chuckle. "It kept crashing. Eventually I had to print the drone but I printed it by myself and there was some crackle in it. It was distorting. And then I couldn't recreate it so Jon Low, who was helping me, was kind of mad at me 'cause he was like, 'You can't do that.' And I was like, 'Well, I was working quickly. I didn't know it'd become a song."

Orchestra Of Nowhere

Meanwhile, the orchestrations that appear on several of the tracks were scored by Aaron's twin brother and National bandmate, Bryce Dessner, who is located in France. "I would just make him chord charts of the songs and send them to him in France," Aaron says. "Then he would orchestrate things in Sibelius and send the parts to me. I would send the parts and the instrumental tracks to different players remotely and they would record them literally in their bedrooms or in their attics. None of it was done as a group, it was all done separately. But that's how we've always worked in the National so it's quite natural."

On folklore standout track 'exile', Justin Vernon of Bon Iver delivered his stirring vocal for the duet remotely from his home in Eaux Claires, Wisconsin. "He's renovating his studio, so he has a little home studio in his garage," says Dessner. "It was Taylor's idea to approach him. I sent him Taylor's voice memo of her singing both parts, and he got really excited and loved the song and then he wrote the extra part in the bridge.

"I do a lot of work remotely with Justin also, so it was easy to send him tracks and he would track to it and send back his vocals. I was sending him stems, so usually it's just a vocal stem of Taylor and an instrumental stem and then if he wants something deeper, I'll give him more stems. But generally, he's just working with the vocal layers and an instrumental."

Vernon also provided the grainy beat that kicks off 'closure', one of two tracks on evermore that started life as a sketch for the second Big Red Machine album. "It was this little loop that Justin had given me in this folder of 'Starters', he calls them. I had heard that and been playing the piano to it. But I was hearing it in 5/4, although it's not in 5/4. 'Closure' really opened everything up further. There were no real limits to where we were gonna try to write songs."

Given the number of remote players, Dessner says there were surprisingly few problems with the file swapping and that it was a fairly painless technical process. "It was pretty smooth, but there were issues," he admits. "Sometimes sample-rate issues, or if I happened to give someone an instrumental that was an MP3, that sometimes lines up differently than if you send them an actual WAV that's bounced on the grid. So, sometimes I'd have to kinda eyeball things.

"If there was trouble it started to be because of track counts. I probably only used 20 percent of what was actually recorded, 'cause we would try a lot of things, y'know. So, eventually the sessions got kinda crazy and you'd have to deactivate a lot of things and print things. But we got used to that."

Soft Piano

Aaron Dessner's characteristic dampened upright piano sound, familiar from the National's albums, is much in evidence throughout both folklore and evermore. "The upright is a Yamaha U1 that I've had for more than a decade. Usually, I play it with the soft pedal down and that's the sound of 'hoax' or 'seven' or 'cardigan', y'know, that felted sound. It kind of almost sounds like an electric piano.

"I always mic it the same way, just with two [AKG] 414s, and they're always the same distance off the wall. I had a studio in Brooklyn for 10 years and then when I moved here, I copied the same [wooden] pattern on the wall. And the reason I did that is 'cause of how much I love how this piano sounds bouncing off that wall. It just does something really special for the harmonics."

When on other folklore songs, such as 'exile' or 'the 1', where the piano was the main sonic feature of the track, Dessner played his Steinway grand. "A lot of times we use a pair of Coles [4038s] on the Steinway, just cause it's darker. But sometimes we'll have the 414s there as well and choose."

Keeping Warm

On both folklore and evermore, Taylor Swift's voice is very much front and center and high in the mix, and generally sounds fairly dry. "I think the main thing was I wanted her vocals to have a more full range than maybe you typically hear," Dessner explains. "'Cause I think a lot of the more pop-oriented records are mixed a certain way and they take some of the warmth out of the vocal, so that it's very bright and it kinda cuts really well on the radio. But she has this wonderful lower warmth frequency in her voice which is particularly important on a song like `seven'. If you carved out that mud, y'know, it wouldn't hit you the same way. Or, like, `cardigan', I think it needs that warmth, the kind of fuller feeling to it. It makes it darker, but to me that's where a lot of emotion is."

Effects-wise, almost all of the treatments were done in the box. "There's no outboard reverbs printed," says Dessner. "The only things that we did print would be like an [Eventide] H3000 or sometimes the [WEM] CopiCat tape delay for just a really subtle slap. But generally, it's just different reverbs in the box that Jon was using. He uses the Valhalla stuff quite a bit and some other UAD reverbs, like the [Capitol] Chambers. I often just use Valhalla VintageVerb and the [Avid] Black Spring and simple things."

In some instances, the final mix ended up being the never-bettered rough mix, while other songs took far more work. "'cardigan' is basically the rough, as is `seven'. So, like the early, early mixes, when we didn't even know we were mixing, we never were able to make it better. Like if you make it sound 'good', it might not be as good 'cause it loses some of its weird magic, y'know. But songs like `the last great american dynasty' or 'mad woman', those songs were a little harder to create the dynamics the way you want them, and the pay-off without going too far, and with also just keeping in the kind of aesthetic that we were in. Those were harder, I would say.

"On evermore, I would say 'willow' was probably the hardest one to finish just because there were so many ways it could've gone. Eventually we settled back almost to the point where it began. So, there's a lot of stuff that was left out of 'willow', just because the simplicity of the idea I think was in a way the strongest."

The subject of this month's Inside Track article, 'willow' was the first song written for evermore, immediately following the release of folklore. "It almost felt like a dare or something," Dessner laughs. "We were writing, recording and mixing all in one kind of work stream and we went from one record to the other almost immediately. We were just sort off to the races. We didn't really ever stop since April."

Rubber & Vinyl

Sometimes, Dessner and Swift drew inspiration from unlikely sources; `no body, no crime', for instance, started when he gave her a 'rubber bridge' guitar made by Reuben Cox of the Old Style Guitar Shop in LA. "He's my very old friend," says Dessner of Cox. "He buys undervalued vintage guitars. Stuff that was made in the '50s and '60s as sort of learner guitars, like old Silvertones and Kays and Harmonys. These kinds of guitars which now are quite special, but they're still not valued the same way that vintage Fenders or Gibsons are valued. Then, he customizes them.

"Recently he started retrofitting these guitars with a rubber bridge and flatwound strings. He'll take, like, an acoustic Silvertone from 1958 and put a bridge on it that's covered in this kind of rubber that deadens the strings, so it really has this kind of dead thrum to it. And he puts two pickups in there, one that's more distorted and one that's cleaner. They're just incredible guitars. I thought Taylor would enjoy having one 'cause she loves the sound. So, I had Reuben make one for her and she used it to write `no body, no crime'."

Another friend of Dessner's, Ryan Olsen, has developed a piece of software called the Allovers Hi-Hat Generator which helped create the unusual harmonic loops that feature on `marjorie'. "It's not available on the market," Dessner says of the software. "It's just something that he uses personally, but I think hopefully eventually it'll come out. I wouldn't say it's artificial intelligence software but there's something very intelligent about it [laughs]. It basically analyses audio information and is able to separate audio into identifiable samples and then put them into a database. You then can design parameters for it to spit out sequences that are incredibly musical.

"When Ryan comes here, he'll just take all kinds of things that I give him and run it through there and then it'll spit out, like, three hours of stuff. Then I go through it and find the layers that I love, then I loop them. You can hear it also on the song 'happiness', the drumming in the background. It's not actually played. That's drums that have been sampled and then re-analyzed and re-sequenced out of this Allovers Hi-Hat Generator."

The song `marjorie' is named after Swift's opera-singer grandmother and so, fittingly, her voice can be heard flitting in and out of the mix at the end of the track. "Taylor's family gave us a bunch of recordings of her grandmother," Dessner explains. "But they were from old, very scratchy, noisy vinyl. So, we had to denoise it all using [iZotope's] RX and then I went in and I found some parts that I thought might work. I pitch-shifted them into the key and then placed them. It took a while to find the right ones, but it's really beautiful to be able to hear her. It's just an incredibly special thing, I think."

Meet At The Pond

Taylor Swift finally managed to get together with Aaron Dessner and Jack Antonoff in September 2020 for the filming of folklore: the long pond studio sessions, featuring the trio live-performing the album. It also provided an opportunity for Swift to add her vocals to some of the evermore tracks.

"It did allow us to have more fun, I think," says Dessner. "Y'know, drink more wine and just kinda be in the same place and have the feeling of blasting the music here and dancing around and just enjoying ourselves. She's really a lovely person to hang out with, so in that sense I'm glad that we had that chance to work together in person.

"We were using a [Telefunken] U47 to record Taylor here," he adds. "Either we were using one of the Siemens preamps on the board, which are amazing. Or I have Neve 1064s [preamps/EQs] and we use a Lisson Grove [AR-i] tube compressor generally."

One entirely new song, `tis the damn season', came out of this face-to-face approach, which Swift wrote in the middle of the night after the team had stayed up late drinking. "We had a bunch of wine actually," Dessner laughs, "and then everybody went to sleep, I thought. But I think she must have had this idea swimming around in her head, 'cause the next morning when she arrived, she sang 'Us the damn season' for me in my kitchen. It's maybe my favourite song we've written together. Then she sang it at dinner for me and my wife Stine and we were all crying. It’s just that kind of a song, so it was quite special.”

National Unity

One key track on evermore, 'coney island', features all of the members of the National and sees Swift duetting with their singer Matt Berninger. "My brother [Bryce] actually originated that song," says Aaron Dessner. "I sent him a reference at one point - I can't remember what it was - and then he was sort of inspired to write that chord progression. Then we worked together to sort of develop it and I wrote a bunch of parts and we structured it.

"Taylor and William Bowery [the songwriting pseudonym of Swift's boyfriend, actor Joe Alwyn] wrote 'coney island' and she sang a beautiful version. It felt kind of done, actually. But then I think we all collectively thought, Taylor and myself and Bryce, like this was the closest to a National song."

Dessner then asked the brothers who make up the National's rhythm section, drummer Bryan and bassist Scott Devendorf, to play on 'coney island'. Matt Berninger, as he often does with the band's own tracks, recorded his vocal at home in Los Angeles. "It was never in the same place, it was done remotely," says Dessner, "except Bryan was here at Long Pond when he played. It was great to collaborate as a band with Taylor."

No Compromise

folklore and evermore have been both enormous critical and commercial successes for Taylor Swift. Aaron Dessner reckons that making these anti-pop records has freed the singer up for the future. "I think it was very liberating for her," he says. "I think that's the thing that's been probably the biggest change for her has just been being able to make songs without compromise and then release them without the promotional requirements that she's used to from the past. Obviously, it comes at this time when we're all in lockdown and nobody can tour or go on talk shows or anything. But I think for her probably it will impact what she does in the future.

"But I also think she can shapeshift again," he concludes. "Who knows where she'll go? She's had many celebrated albums from the past, but to release two albums of this quality in such a short time, it really did shine a light on her songwriting talent and her storytelling ability and also just her willingness to experiment and collaborate. Somehow, I ended up in the middle of all that and I'm very grateful."

INSIDE TRACK - Jonathan Low: Secrets of the Mix Engineers

Sound On Sound Magazine // March 2021 issue // By Paul Tingen

From sketches to final mixes, engineer Jonathan Low spent 2020 overseeing Taylor Swift’s hit lockdown albums folklore and evermore.

“I think the theme of a lot of my work nowadays, and especially with these two records, is that everything is getting mixed all the time. I always try to get the songs to sound as finalised as they can be. Obviously that’s hard when you’re not sure yet what all the elements will be. Tracks morph all the time, and yet everything is always moving forwards towards completion in some way. Everything should sound fun and inspiring to listen to all the time.”

Speaking is Jonathan Low, and the two records he refers to are, of course, Taylor Swift’s 2020 albums folklore and evermore, both of which reached number one in the UK and the US. Swift’s main producer and co‑writer on the two albums was the National’s Aaron Dessner, also interviewed in this issue. Low is the engineer, mixer and general right‑hand man at Long Pond Studios in upstate New York, where he and Dessner spent most of 2020 working on folklore and evermore, with Swift in Los Angeles for much of the time.

“In the beginning it did not feel real,” recalls Low. “There was this brand‑new collaboration, and it was amazing how quickly Aaron made these instrumental sketches and Taylor wrote lyrics and melodies to them, which she initially sent to us as iPhone voice memos. During our nightly family dinners in lockdown, Aaron would regularly pull up his phone and say, ‘Listen to this!’ and there would be another voice memo from Taylor with this beautiful song that she had written over a sketch of Aaron’s in a matter of hours. The rate at which it was happening was mind‑blowing. There was constant elevation, inspiration and just wanting to continue the momentum.

“We put her voice memos straight into Pro Tools. They had tons of character, because of the weird phone compression and cutting midrange quality you just would not get when you put someone in front of a pristine recording chain. Plus there was all this bleed. It’s interesting how that dictates the attitude of the vocal and of the song. Even though none of the original voice memos ended up on the albums, they often gave us unexpected hints. These voice memos were such on‑a‑whim things, they were really telling. Taylor had certain phrasings and inflections that we often returned to later on. They became our reference points.”

Pond Life

The making of the National’s 2017 album Sleep Well Beast and the setup at Long Pond were covered in SOS October 2017; today the studio remains pretty much the same, with the exception of a new desk. “The main space is really big, and the console sits in the middle,” says Low. “In 2019, I installed a 1965 WSW/Siemens, which has 24 line‑in and microphone channels and another 24 line channels. WSW is the Austrian branch of Siemens usually built for broadcast. It’s loaded with 811510B channels. The build quality is insane, the switches and pots feel like they were made yesterday. To me it hints at the warm haze of a Class‑A Neve channel but sits further forward in the speakers. The midrange band on the passive EQ is a huge part of its charm, it really does feel like you’re changing the tone of the actual source rather than the recording. Most microphones go through the desk on their way into Pro Tools, though we sometimes use outboard Neve 1064 mic pres. Occasionally I use the Siemens to sum a mix.

“We have a pair of ATC SCM45 monitors, which sound very clear in the large room. The ceiling is very high, and the front wall is about 25 feet behind the monitors. There are diffusers on the sidewalls and the back walls are absorbing, so there are very few reflections. Aaron and I will be listening in tons of different ways. I’ll listen in my home studio with similar ATC SCM20 monitors or on my ‘70s Marantz hi‑fi setup. Aaron is always checking things in his car, and if there’s something that is bugging him, I’ll join him in his car to find out what he hears.”

Low works at Long Pond and with Dessner most of the time, though he does find time to do other projects, among hem this last year the War On Drugs, Waxahatchee and Nap Eyes. When lockdown started in Spring 2020, Low tacked up on supplies and "had a bunch f mixes lined up". Meanwhile, on the Eest Coast, Swift had seen her Lover Fest our cancelled. With help from engineer aura Sisk, she set up a makeshift studio which she dubbed Kitty Committee in bedroom in her Los Angeles home, and began working with long-term producer nd co-writer Jack Antonoff. At the end of April, however, Swift also started working with Dessner, which took the project in different direction. The impressionistic, atmospheric, electro-folk instrumentals Dessner sent her were mostly composed nd recorded by him at Long Pond, assisted by Low.

Sketching Sessions

The instrumental sketches Aaron makes come into being in different ways," elaborates Low. "Sometimes they are more fleshed-out ideas, sometimes they are less formed. But normally Aaron will set himself up in the studio, surrounded by instruments and synths, and he'll construct a track. Once he feels it makes some kind of sense I'll come in and take a listen and then we together develop what's there.

"I don't call his sketches demos, because while many instruments are added and replaced later on, most of the original parts end up in the final version of the song. We end up in the final version of the song. We try to get the sketches to a place where they are already very engaging as instrumental are already very engaging as instrumental tracks. Aaron and I are always obsessively listening, because we constantly want to hear things that feel inspiring and musical, not just a bed of music in the background. It takes longer to create, but in this case also gave Taylor more to latch onto, both emotionally and in terms of musical inspiration. Hearing melodies woven in the music triggered new melodies."

Not long after Dessner and Low sent each sketch to Swift, they would receive her voice memos in return, and they'd load them into the Pro Tools session of the sketch in question. Dessner and Low then continued to develop the songs, in close collaboration with Swift. "Taylor's voice memos often came with suggestions for how to edit the sketches: maybe throw in a bridge somewhere, shorten a section, change the chords or arrangement somewhere, and so on. Aaron would have similar ideas, and he then developed the arrangements, often with his brother Bryce, adding or replacing instruments. This happened fast, and became very interactive between us and Taylor, even though we were working remotely. When we added instruments, we were reacting to the way my rough mixes felt at the very beginning. Of course, it was also dictated by how Taylor wrote and sang to the tracks."

Dessner supplied sketches for nine and produced 10 of folklore's 16 songs, playing many different types of guitars, keyboards and synths as well as percussion and programmed drums. Instruments that were added later include live strings, drums, trombone, accordion, clarinet, harpsichord and more, with his brother Bryce doing many of the orchestrations. Most overdubs by other musicians were done remotely as well. Throughout, Low was keeping an overview of everything that was going on and mixing the material, so it was as presentable and inspiring as possible.

Mixing folklore

Although Dessner has called folklore an "anti-pop album", the world's number-one pop mixer Serban Ghenea was drafted in to mix seven tracks, while Low did the remainder.

"It was exciting to have Serban involved," explains Low, "because he did things I'd never do or be able to do. The way the vocal sits always at the forefront, along with the clarity he gets in his mixes, is remarkable. A great example of this is on the song 'epiphany'. There is so much beautiful space and the vocal feels effortlessly placed. It was really interesting to hear where he took things, because we were so close to the entire process in every way. Hearing a totally new perspective was eye-opening and refreshing.

"Throughout the entire process we were trying to maintain the original feel. Sometimes this was hard, because that initial rawness would get lost in large arrangements and additional layering. With revisions of folklore in particular we sometimes were losing the emotional weight from earlier more casual mixes. Because I was always mixing, there was also always the danger of over-mixing.

"We were trying to get the best of each mix version, and sometimes that meant stepping backwards, and grabbing a piano chain from an earlier mix, or going three versions back to before we added orchestration. There were definitely moments of thinking, 'Is this going to compete sonically? Is this loud enough?' We knew we loved the way the songs sounded as we were building them, so we stuck with what we knew. There were times where I tried to keep pushing a mix forward but it didn't improve the song — 'cardigan' is an example of a song where we ended up choosing a very early mix."

The Low Down

"I'm originally from Philadelphia," says Jonathan Low, "and played piano, alto saxophone and guitar when growing up. My dad is an electrical engineer and audiophile hobbyist, and I learned a lot about circuit design and how to repair things. I then started building guitar pedals and guitar amps, and recorded bands at my high school using a minidisc player and some binaural microphones. After that I did a music industry programme at Drexel University, and spent a lot of time working at the recording facilities there.

"This led to me meeting Brian McTear, a producer and owner of Miner Street Studios, which became my home base from 2009 to 2014. I learned a lot from him, from developing an interest in creating sounds in untraditional ways, to how to see a record through to completion. The studio has a two-inch 16-track Ampex MM1200 tape machine and a beautiful MCI 400 console which very quickly shaped the way I think about routing and signal flow. I'm lucky to have learned this way, because a computer environment is like the Wild West: there are no rules in terms of how to get from point A to point B. This flexibility is incredible, but sometimes there are simply too many options.

"l met Aaron [Dessned] because singer-songwriter Sharon van Etten recorded her second album, Epic [2010] at Miner Street, with Brian producing. Her third album, Tramp [2012] was produced by Aaron. They came to Philly to record drums and I ended up mixing a bunch of that record. After that I would occasionally go to work in Aaron's garage studio in Brooklyn, and this became more and more a regular collaboration. I then moved from Philly up to the Hudson Valley to help Aaron build Long Pond. We first used the studio in the spring of 2016, when beginning to record the National's album Sleep Well Beast."

Onward & Upward

folklore was finished and released in July 2020. In a normal world everyone might have gone on to do other things, but without the option of touring, they simply continued writing songs, with Low holding the fort. In September, many of the musicians who played on the album gathered at Long Pond for the shooting of a making-of documentary, folklore: the long pond studio sessions, which is streamed on Disney+.

The temporary presence of Swift at Long Pond changed the working methods somewhat, as she could work with Dessner in the room, and Low was able record her vocals. After Swift left again, sessions continued until December, when evermore was released, with Dessner producing or co-producing all tracks, apart from 'gold rush' which was co-written and co-produced by Swift and Antonoff. Low recorded many of Swift's vocals for evermore, and mixed the entire album. The lead single 'willow' became the biggest hit from the album, reaching number one in the US and number three in the UK.

"Before Taylor came to Long Pond," remembers Low, "she had always recorded her vocals for folklore remotely in Los Angeles or Nashville. When I recorded, I used a modern Telefunken U47, which is our go-to vocal mic — we record all the National stuff with that — going straight into the Siemens desk, and then into a Lisson Grove AR-1 tube compressor, and via a Burl A-D converter into Pro Tools. Taylor creates and lays down her vocal arrangements very quickly, and it sounds like a finished record in very few takes."

Devils In The Detail

In his mixes, Low wanted listeners to share his own initial response to these vocal performances. "The element that draws me in is always Taylor's vocals. The first time I received files with her properly recorded but premixed vocals I was just floored. They sounded great, even with minimal EQ and compression. They were not the way I'm used to hearing her voice in her pop songs, with the vocal soaring and sitting at the very front edge of the soundscape. In these raw performances, I heard so much more intimacy and interaction with the music. It was wonderful to hear her voice with tons of detail and nuances in place: her phrasing, her tonality, her pitch, all very deliberate. We wanted to maintain that. It's more emotional, and it sounds so much more personal to me. Then there was the music..."

The arrangements on evermore are even more 'chamber pop' than on folklore, with instruments like glockenspiel, crotales, flute, French horn, celeste and harmonium in evidence. "As listeners of the National may know, Aaron's and Bryce's arrangements can be quite dense. They love lush orchestration, all sorts of percussion, synths and other electronic sounds. The challenge was trying to get them to speak, without getting in the way of the vocals. I want a casual listener to be drawn in by the vocal, but sense that something special is happening in the music as well. At the same time, someone who really is digging in can fully immerse themselves and take in all the beauty deeper in the details of the sound and arrangement. Finding the balance between presenting all the musical elements that were happening in the arrangement and this really beautiful, upfront, real-sounding vocal was the ticket."

A particular challenge is that a lot of the detail that Aaron gravitates towards happens in the low mids, which is a very warm part of our hearing spectrum that can quickly become too muddy or too woolly. A lot of the tonal and musical information lives in the low mids, and then the vocal sits more in the midrange and high mids. There's not too much in the higher frequency range, except the top of the guitars, and some elements like a shaker and the higher buzzy parts of the synths. Maintaining clarity and separation in those often complex arrangements was a major challenge."

In & Out The Box

According to Low, the final mix stage for evermore was "very short. There was a moment in the final week or so leading up to the release where the songs were developed far enough for me to sit down and try to make something very cohesive and final, finalising vocal volume, overall volume, and the vibe. There's a point in every mix where the moves get really small. When a volume ride of 0.1dB makes a difference, you're really close to being done. Earlier on, those little adjustments don't really matter.

"I often try to mix at the console, with some outboard on the two-bus, but folklore was mixed all in the box, because we were working so fast, plus initially the plan was for the mixes to be done elsewhere. I ran a couple of mixes for evermore through the console, and `closure' was the only one that stuck. It was summed through the Siemens, with an API 2500 compressor and a Thermionic Culture Phoenix and then back into Pro Tools via the Burl A-D. I will use hardware when mixing in the box, though mainly just two units: the Eventide H3000, because I have not found any plug-ins that do the same thing, and the [Thermionic] Culture Vulture, for its very broad tone shaping and distortion properties.

"The writing and the production happened closely in conjunction with the engineering and mixing, and the arrangements were dense, making many of the sessions super hefty and actually quite messy. Sounds would constantly change roles in the arrangement and sometimes plug-ins would just stack up. So final mixing involved cleaning up the sessions and stemming large groups down."

Across The Rubber Bridge

The Pro Tools mix session of 'willow' has close to 100 tracks, though there's none of the elaborate bussing that's the hallmark of some modern sessions. At the top are six drum machine tracks in green from the Teenage Engineering OP-1, an instrument that was used extensively on the album. Below that are five live percussion tracks (blue), three bass tracks (pink), and an `AUX Drums' programming track. There's a 'rubber bridge' guitar folder and aux, OP-1 synth tracks, piano tracks, 'Dream Machine' (Josh Kaufman's guitar) and E-bow tracks, Yamaha, Sequential Prophet X, Moog and Roland Juno synth tracks, and Strings and Horns aux stem tracks.

"Most of the drum tracks were performed on the OP-1 by Aaron. These are not programmed tracks. Bryan Devendorf, drummer of the National, programmed some beats on a Roland TR-8S. I ran those though the Fender Rumble bass amp, which adds some woofiness, like an acoustic kit room mic. There's an acoustic shaker, and there's an OP-1 backbeat that's subtle in the beginning, and then gets stronger towards the end of the song. I grouped all the drum elements and the bass, and sent those out to a hardware insert with the Culture Vulture, for saturation, so it got louder and more and more harmonically rich. There is this subtle growing and crescendo of intensity of the rhythm section by the end.

"The 'rubber bridge' guitars were the main anchor in the instruments. These guitars have a wooden bridge wrapped in rubber, and sound a bit like a nylon-string guitar, or a light palm mute. They're very percussive and sound best when recorded on our Neumann U47 and a DI. On many of those DI tracks I have a [SPL] Transient Designer to lower the sustain and keep them punchy, especially in the low end. There's a folder with five takes of 'rubber bridge' guitar in this session, creating this wall of unique guitar sound.

"I treated the 'rubber bridge' guitars quite extensively. There's a FabFilter Pro-Q3 cutting some midrange frequencies and some air around 10kHz. These guitars can splash out in the high end and have a boominess that's in the same range as the low end of Taylor's vocal, so I had to keep these things under control. Then I used a SoundToys Tremolator, with a quarter-note tremolo that makes the accents in the playing a bit more apparent. I like to get the acoustic guitars a little bit out of the way for the less important beats, so I have the Massey CT5 compressor side-chained to the kick drum. I also used the UAD Precision K-Stereo to make the guitars a bit wider. The iZotope Ozone Exciter adds some high mids and high-end harmonic saturation sparkly stuff, and the SoundToys EchoBoy delay is automated, with it only coming on in the bridge, where I wanted more ambience."

Growing Pains

"Once we had figured out how to sit the 'rubber bridge' guitars in the mix, the next challenge was to work out the end of the song, after the bridge. Taylor actually goes down an octave with her voice in the last chorus, and at the same time the music continues to push and grow. That meant using a lot of automation and Clip Gain adjustment to make sure the vocal always stayed on top. There also are ambient pianos playing counter-melodies, and balancing the vocals, guitars and pianos was the main focus on this song. We spent a lot of time balancing this, particularly as the track grows towards the end.

"The vocal tracks share many of the same plug-ins and settings. On the main lead vocal track I added the UAD Pultec EQP-1A, with a little bit of a cut in the low end at 30Hz, and a boost at 8kHz, which adds some modern air. The second plug-in is the Oeksound Soothe, which is just touching the vocal, and it helps with any harsh resonance stuff in the high mids, and a little in the lower mids. Next is the UAD 1176AE, and then the FabFilter Pro-Q3, doing some notches at 200Hz, 1kHz, 4kHz and close to 10kHz. I tend to do subtractive EQ on the Q3, and use more analogue-sounding plug-ins, like the Pultec or the Maag, to boost. After that is the FabFilter Pro-DS [de-esser], taking off a couple of decibels, followed by the FabFilter Saturn 2 [saturation processor], on a warm tape setting.

"Below the vocal tracks are three aux effects tracks, for the vocals. 'Long Delay' has a stereo EchoBoy going into an Altiverb with a spring reverb, for effect throws in the choruses. 'Chamber' is the UAD Capitol Chamber, which gives the vocal a nice density and size, without it being a long reverb. The 'Plate' aux is the UAD EMT140, for the longer tail. These two reverbs work in conjunction, with the chamber for the upfront space, determining where the vocal sits in the mix, and the plate more for the depth behind that.

"At the bottom of the session is a two-bus aux, which mimics the way I do the two-bus on the desk. The plug-ins are the UAD Massive Passive EQ, UAD API 2500 compressor, and the UAD Ampex ATR102. Depending on the song, I will choose 15ips or 30ips. In this case it was set to 15ips, half-inch GP9. That has a nice, aggressive, midrange push, and the GP9 bottom end goes that little bit lower. There's also a PSP Vintage Warmer, a Sonnox Oxford Inflator, plus a FabFilter Pro-L2 [limiter]. None of these things are doing very much on their own, but in conjunction give me the interaction I expect from an analogue mix chain."

[gingersnappe-9]

Quisiera: Growing Pains (2)

Javier Peña / F!Reader; Post Narcos

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1.9K words

Summary: You have a lot on your mind. You never expected Javi to be one of them. But that's nothing a good soak can't fix, right?

Warnings: mention of loss of parent & degenerative diseases, minor depictions of sexual thoughts, minor profanity

A/N: because I'm a major dork, and no one asked, I created the floor plan for the reader's house and my friend @followwhereshegoes designed it in Sims for me. The photos are at the end of the chapter. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Your hair blew in the wind as you drove your work-beaten Ford F-250 home. Papers from a long day of checking up on animals and livestock fluttered beneath your now empty thermos for coffee. Your head bobbed with the familiar bumps and turns of the road as you drove home. The ride wasn’t unlike it had been any other day, but as you pulled into your driveway and peaked to the left and you knew he would be there. You had known for a few weeks now that Javi had been back. On a courtesy visit for Don Jesús -- Javi’s dad -- he had mentioned his son might be returning to Texas soon. That had to have been roughly two, maybe three months ago?

You never thought you would see him again. The kid who always thought he knew best. The one who was so sure of himself and that the world was his oyster. You weren’t surprised that he didn’t recognize you though. That was Javi you grew up with. This Javier was different. It was plain to see that he carried a weight with him. Knowing the things he knew, holding on to whatever he’d done in the back of his mind now and forever. He wasn’t the bright and shiny version of Javi you once knew, but he was still as golden as ever.

As you hopped out of the car and twirled the keys on your finger, you were beyond satisfied at your decision to postpone your reunion with Javi. Crossing the threshold of your house you recalled how panicked he looked. The quick flashes of “oh shit” in his eyes before he masked his uncertainty with precision and a charming smile. To others, he played it off fine, but you knew Javi before he was Agent Peña. You’d practically grown up with him so you were privy to those subtle tells.

Javi’s abuelos moved to be closer to their son and his family. His grandparents and your parents met in English class after they moved to America and the families stayed close ever since. Javi’s family was from Mexico, and yours came from Colombia. Each of your tíos and tías helped watch and raise you and your primos. While most of your blood relatives were still in Colombia, you loved your found family here in the States. All of the birthdays spent in one another’s backyards with copious amounts of candy that came pouring out of piñatas. Big Christmas gatherings with mountains of food like ponche, pozole verde, and dulcitos like your favorite manjar blanco. Above all, you remember the laughter.

You laughed so much as a child. Someone could look at you in such a way and you would have burst out into a fit of giggles and happy squeals. It was a bittersweet thing to recall. Things were just… different now. You grew up. Life changed, you certainly had.

This was the home your parents had built not too long after they came to America. You still felt like a little kid playing house sometimes. Being the sole occupant felt strange after the years you spent growing up with the place bursting with laughter, people, and above all love. But life changed. Your mother had died of a heart attack the year before you finished vet school. Ten years back, your father was diagnosed with early onset dementia and it was left to you to make the hard decision of placing him in a nursing home. You couldn’t care for him with the hours you worked at the clinic, and you didn’t think your heart could bear seeing the man you admired slowly fade away. It made you feel awful to admit, but there was only so much a heart could take. It could’ve been different if you still had your mamá, but it was just you.

Your body hitched a bit as you bent over to pull the dirt caked boots off your feet. Growing up is fun, they said. They never mentioned anything about rapid onset aches and pains once you passed thirty. You loved being a vet, you loved taking care of horses and all manner of livestock; being there for the folks who relied on you, but man alive was it taxing on the body.

As you padded your way into the study just to the left of the front door, you dropped the excess paperwork and lunch pale on your desk; your boots onto the old mat so as to not spread anymore dirt in the house. Trying your best to properly file away your paperwork, billing receipts and lists of future visits, you found your mind wandering back to Javier.

The wonderful way his bone structure had sharpened with age. Yeah he was a good looking teenage boy -- a bit on the thin side, but strong in body and mind -- but this version of Javi was a stud. His skin was naturally tanner than some, but it was even more bronzed by the sun from his time down in Colombia. A man with strong looking hands that wrapped the circumference of the tumbler glass filled with neat whiskey meanwhile yours could only manage to get around halfway. You were extremely annoyed at how he could pull off a damn mustache without looking like a creep. Finding that you were spending far too much time thinking about Javier Peña rather than getting your ass ready for bed, you set off on your nightly routine.

Pushing yourself up and out of the desk chair was more tiresome than you would have liked to admit, but not impossible. You then opened the door that led into your bedroom. It still felt a bit weird to call it your bedroom after all this time.

You had redecorated the place to your tastes. The main bedroom now had a beautiful four post bed with pleated gossamer drapes around the posts. The warm wood bureau and doors matched the deep trim of the window sills and frames throughout the house. You removed your everyday jewelry and placed them in the little wooden dishes you had bought in Colombia the last time you visited. You had just turned twenty two then, and didn’t care to remember how old you were now. Admiring the fine artistry of the delicately carved lines and lacquered scenery of a village always brought back fine memories, summers spent in a home away from home. Peeling off your work clothes proved a bit more challenging now that your muscles and bones had started to stiffen from the wear of the workday. You walked into your bathroom as naked as the day you were born, a small perk of having moved into the main bedroom since it had an ensuite bathroom.

After the long day, a shower just didn’t seem like it was going to cut it. You pivoted to the left and began to draw a steaming hot bath. A few drops of essential oil were splashed into the piping hot water. Your abuelita did always say, “Medicina cuando la necesita, pero los remedios naturales siempre son los mejores.”

Medicine when you need it, but natural remedies are always best.

Once the tub was filled as high as it could go and still accommodate your body, the taps were shut off, and you slipped into the warm bliss. The water worked its magic while you turned on a small radio that sat on the windowsill. It was tuned in to some station based in Mexico that always played música rancheras. You were a self-proclaimed “old soul” and loved your parents' generational music. It was a not-so-guilty-pleasure for you. Even when you were younger, some of the other kids made fun of you for not liking the more modern music. But your mom always reassured you it was because you were un romántico. A romantic.

The soulful melodies and elegant guitar echoed through the steam from the bath as your aches and pains were softly pulled from your bones. The sky outside the window was a dusty pink muddled with orange. The heat from the bath was wonderful. Your mind wandered ever farther as you sunk deeper into relaxation. Tonight was one of those evenings you imagined someone else in the tub with you, it was one of the reasons you’d thrown in a couple extra bucks when you redid the bathroom. You imagined leaning against their chest, them running their hands up and down the inner part of your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you wanted their touch the most.

Big and strong hands. Ones that weren’t afraid to leave an imprint, a reminder of their presence. Your cheeks flushed at the thought of them gently pressing and squeezing into your thighs, chest, and hips. The fantasy completed itself when you put a face to this mystery man.

Warm brown eyes, a well-defined jaw, somewhat pouty lips that practically begged you to kiss them with a fucking mustache of all things. You imagined the sound of his voice right next to your ear, whispering dirty things while he continued to paw at your body with confidence. The fresh recall of your most recent conversation made the day dream seem all the more real. It was intimate, enticing. You hadn't had any real boyfriend in a while and with the luscious way the water lapped over your skin, you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together unconsciously as his conjured words echoed in your mind.

You feel so soft, Armorsita. Do you like when I touch you here, baby? Oh, you do. I can tell. Mi dama. Tell me. Tell me how much you like it, how much you love being mine. Let me have you, all of you. Let me show you just how much I love touching you right…

Your mind snapped back when your head slipped from its perch on the back of the tub. The room felt steamier than it had before even as the water temperature had dipped to lukewarm.

Was I really just fantasizing about Javier Peña of all people?

It was official then. You needed to get into bed and sleep off whatever delusions these were and come back to reality.

Fully washed and dried, you finished your routine by lathering yourself in your favorite lavender body lotion. Your body felt much better without the thin layer of Texas dust smothering your skin. Something different, however, clouded your mind, or rather, someone. It was a bit alarming how easily Javier permeated your idle thoughts. The encounter suddenly became very clear.

Why did you say goodnight as sultry as you did? Was that even sultry? Why do I keep thinking about it being “sultry”?

Your mind recalled the brief moment your lips touched his cheek. It wasn’t unlike any other time you kissed a friend goodbye. You’d been doing it forever. It was how you said goodbye. You knew that, and so did he. So why did it carve out its own special place in your mind? Why were the sensations so clear and vidid? Why did you so badly want to do it again and again without pause?

Of course your mind would fixate on the person who had just recently come back into your life. It was only natural. Humans are designed to notice differences. It’s a survival technique. To pay attention to possible threats. And you had yet to make up your mind if you considered this version of Javier Peña a friend or foe.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @betti-book @mcueveryday @athalien

[loving-all-for-loki]

Voiceless Love Chapter 4: Little One

Loki x reader, Bucky x reader

Word count: 2061

Warnings: fluff, talk of family loss, depression (alludes to suicidal thoughts), mention of a boner, angst

Tag List: @caffeineoverloadandstudying @zizzlekwum @lokiyoulittle @magicalpieex @daddysfavoritesexkitten @buckylokisimp

A/N: Okay Loki lovers, this is a dozy. We’re gonna delve more into Y/N and Loki’s relationship and look at her background a little. There’s a little spice at the end then it ends with some angst so I’m sorry. Trigger warning, there is depression mentioned and there are a few sentences that could be taken as suicidal tendencies or attempts so a little warning there. 

You find yourself sitting at the kitchen island one day and  eating your cereal still contemplating how you got to bed the night before. Bits and pieces from the night before come back. You remember making Loki a sandwich and him reading a book to you, but after that everything goes blank. Loki comes into the kitchen and smiles as he sits next to you.

“Hello, little one.”

You smile up at him, looking at his shiny beautiful green eyes.

“Did you sleep well?”

You take out your pen and write yes on his forearm. He chuckles at the way you always have that pen on you.

“You really carry that around everywhere?”

Yes, I’m not scared of communicating, just talking

Loki nods his head in understandment, “can I ask why you don’t speak?”

You contemplate answering for a moment, not knowing whether you should answer that question or not. 

“I’m sorry I shouldn't-”

You grab his arm and start writing all the way up to his bicep.

I’ve lost a lot of people in my life by twisting my words and changing them, so I figured if I were to write everything or make solid proof of my words, no one could change them.

Loki reads what you wrote then stares at you with a melancholy look. You hate being pitied, especially when you know the person is stuck up or prideful. Loki seems like one of those people who carries themselves on a higher pedestal than the rest. The looks he gives you makes you comfortable, urging you to repress into a small ball and close yourself off to him.

“I’m sorry,” he says. Loki reaches his hand out to cover yours in comfort, but it only heightens your anxiety. You move your hand and lean away from him, which makes Loki feel bad. He doesn’t know how to act with you, one second you’re very sweet then you avoid him like the plague. That’s why he started to leave the room when you entered, he thought you’d hate him.

Don’t worry about it

You finish your bowl of cereal and set it in the sink before getting up and leaving. Loki follows you up to the library where you start reading a book and he continues his own. He keeps staring at you, this lonely girl who has more pain than he realized.

“Why are you here?”

You look up and over to him on his chair. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, waiting to know everything about you, including why he is so drawn to you. Getting up and setting your book down (with slight annoyance), you sit back down near him like the first time you two interacted. He reaches his arm out to you to use.

I’m an avenger.

“Well, clearly, but how?”

About two years ago, my parents and I got in a bad car accident. They both passed away and I survived, horribly injured and stuck in a hospital. I was in a horrible state to the point where I should have been dead, but somehow I was alive. That’s when we found out it was a targeted hit and why I wasn’t killed. My parents were the targets. S.H.I.E.L.D agents came to me and told me that they were involved and going to help me. A day or two later, a scientist came and talked to me about healing options and there was a “potion” of some sort they had been working on to completely heal any wounds. They said the risk of me dying from taking it was about 50/50 and I didn’t have much to live for. Without my parents, I was lost and depressed, so I agreed to take whatever liquid they had. It healed me, but it had side effects. I would trip and scuff up my leg, but I’d find the bruises and legs to completely go away in seconds. Turns out it had lingered somewhere in my bloodstream and not my injuries that it flowed through me, healing any wound. Then throughout time, I found out it gave me the power to heal others as well.

You run out of room on Loki’s forearm and switch over to his right side, making him chuckle.

It started with me accidently touching my friends' cuts and them completely healing. After SHIELD came by my house one day to check on me, I told them what had been going on and they took me to some lab or theirs. I was tested on for a little bit and they decided I would be a good asset to them as a healer for missions. Not having a plan for my life, I agreed to join and come help. 

“You have no fighting background or any defense?”

Not at all. I’m just a personal nurse/antidote.

“What about your parents? Did they ever find out what happened?”

Hydra attack. Apparently, my parents were SHIELD agents back in the day and worked on a post-Captain America frozen case and Hydra wanted to cover up and hide Bucky. My parents found out about him.

“Your parents found out Bucky was alive a year before the Avengers did?”

Yes. 

Loki nods his head, wrapping his brain around everything you just told him. No wonder you were so close with Bucky. You probably relate to him with how bad Hydra ruined your life. 

“Does Bucky know about this?”

No. No one does except for you and Fury. He was told everything of course, but in my file he only put my powers and selective mute in ‘important information’. He knows how private I can be about things so he didn’t want to inform everyone on it if I didn’t want them to know.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Because I trust you

“No one trusts me.”

I do.

“Why?”

Because I know who you are. I know what happened with New York and it’s not your fault. I know what it feels like to be at the lowest point and want to do anything to feel something or get attention. I know you’re not a bad man, just a hurt one.

“I underestimated you, little one.”

You smile at each other, knowing you have a deeper bond than before. Loki chuckles at your shy little face, now knowing how much strength and depth you carry. You are much more than just a healer girl.

“I’m sorry about your parents.”

It’s okay. I’ve gotten over it.

“I remember when I lost my mom. It was my fault. I’ll never forgive myself for it.” Loki looks down to see you staring with big doe eyes. He smiles at you, the features on his face softening. “You make me feel better, though.”

I’m glad I can help.

“Were you mute before your parents died?”

No, it was the Hydra agents that twisted my words. Trying to get me to agree to things or say things about my parents. I stopped speaking.

“Hydra agents ma-”

They were the ones with the potion, not SHIELD. They’re trying to find what Hydra used on me and they took me in to protect me, but Hydra would come every day and aim a gun at my head. Asking me questions and threatening me.

“I’m so sorry. That must have been traumatic.”

That is why I don’t speak anymore, saves me from trouble.

“I don’t blame you. You’re very strong, little one.”

You and Loki share a smile, but the awkward silence fills the air. Loki wants nothing more than to hug and hold her, protect her from all the evil things in the world, but you’re timid. He doesn’t want to scare you again.

“I’ll leave you to your book,” he says, “thank you, for telling me everything.”

Thank you for listening.

You smile and nod before heading back to your seat and finishing Wuthering Heights. Loki’s eyes never leave you, though.

Another day or two goes on and you and Loki are closer than before. His whole body is covered in your writings and smears from when he washed off parts for you to write again. He doesn’t ever want to wash it all off, knowing your words are precious and important. You notice the way he rereads what you wrote when he’s sitting or eating. There’s something about his fascination with you that makes you feel important and loved. You’ve caught him a couple times smiling as he reads, byt quickly becoming stoic again when he realises you’re looking.

You’re baking a bunch of cookies for when the team comes home. The mission should be over in about a day and you wanted to surprise them. Loki comes walking in to see you covered in flour and munching on some spare dough that was too little to make a cookie. He chuckles at the sight of you and comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“What in the good heavens are you doing?”

You turn around and chuckle silently, pointing to the over. Loki slightly opens it and sees the pan of cookies baking.

“I didn’t know you baked.”

You grab your pen off the counter and write on his shoulder. 

I love baking, music, and sewing.

“You learn something new every day,” he chuckles, “Can I help?”

I’d love that! I need these things mixed, you write as you point to the recipe, think you can do that?

“I think I can manage to mix some ingredients, little one.”

A couple minutes go by as the two of you mix and measure ingredients. You can’t help but watch the way Loki’s strong hands mix everything at a vigorous speed. You peel your eyes away, trying to not get caught and embarrass yourself.

What you don’t realize is the way Loki steals glances at you when you’re not looking. He loves the way your hair dances as you move around, the way you climb onto the counter to reach the highest shelves. You’re so focused while baking with your eyebrows furrowed and fingers skimming the bowls. He’s never seen a creature more adorable and divine. Then Loki notices the flour on your cheek and laughs, getting your attention.

“You have a little something on your face.”

Reaching out, he brushes the flour off of your forehead. The heat coming from your body is intimidating, calling him to get closer to you to warm up, but he denies himself. He brushes his hand against a towel to get rid of the flour before turning to you, who blows a little flour on him, covering his clothes in the white dust.

“Oh, you little-”

You start running around the island as Loki chases you. He laughs as you try to evade him, but he slips his arm around your bicep, pulling him into you. You fall on top of him, his body breaking the blow to your head. 

Lifting yourself up, you look down to see Loki under you, his arms still around your waist. His eyes go big as soon as he realizes you’re straddling him in the worst place possible. He prays to Odin that you don’t feel his boner as you lay on top of him. You blush as you two stare at one another in the tight embrace

“I uh-” Loki stutters as his eyes flicker to your lips, trying to focus on anything but the heat of your body on his.

All of a sudden, there’s a horrible sound coming from outside the tower. It pierces your ears, forcing you to cover them and drop on top of Loki fully. He pulls one arm around your whole body and cradles your head in his other.

“What is that sound?” he winces. Loki looks over to see the Quinjet landing and Sam Wilson running out of it.

Sam’s eyes go wide at the sight of you and Loki embracing on the floor. He notices the writing all over Loki’s arms and legs and the way he smiles as he looks up at you. He shakes it off as he goes in seeing that he has bigger problems at hand. “Y/N!” He shouts.

You look up to see Sam in a hurried scared face.

“We need you! Bucky got hurt and may not live! We need you to save him!”

[ggyutea]

into the aether // jjk [CHAPTER ONE]

pairing: agent!jungkook x agent!reader

genre: not-so-secret organization au, rivals to lovers au, sci-fi, action, slow burn, mutual pining, future mystery 👀, eventual fluff, eventual smut (probably), teeny bit of future angst

word count: 4.4k

summary: As a rookie member of an organization that deals in investigating and neutralizing paranormal and extraterrestrial threats, you get assigned to your very first case with Jeon Jungkook as your partner, a former classmate you’ve never been too fond of.  But what happens when your supposed low-tier rookie case begins to unravel into something more serious than anyone anticipated?  And, more importantly, how do you come to terms with your growing feelings for Jungkook?

contents: jungkook being a little shit, y/n is a bisexual disaster, the tension is real honestly, female!namjoon, long haired Kook, mild info-dumping for context

warnings: mild cursing

a/n: behold, my first posted fic! i have absolutely no idea how long this series will be but i’m super excited about it!!  i hope anyone who happens to come across this enjoys it :))

previous || masterlist || next

The agency-issued suit is surprisingly comfortable.  Form-fitting without being tight, the dress slacks and jacket cling softly to your body as you adjust your badge before entering your new workplace.  Taking a deep breath as you push open the double doors of the Aether Headquarters, you are greeted by the sight of many bustling individuals, all dressed in suits identical to the one currently adorning your body.  A potent mix of excitement and nerves light up your veins as you take in the sight, the moment almost surreal.  

Your heels click across the linoleum floor as you begin to make your way through the massive atrium to the semi-circular elevator.  You check and double check your badge for your assignment details, noting in relief when you realize that you haven’t already forgotten them.  Floor 7, Division S01.  Floor 7, Division S01, you repeat over and over again, a mantra of sorts.  Beginning at a brisk pace, you inevitably slow as you take in the sights of the cavernous space.  Massive glass windows stretch high towards the ceiling on every wall, letting in beams of early morning sunlight that cast a warm glow over everything they touch.  Two large LED screens are affixed on either side of the main elevator across the way, one showcasing a map of the city, the other a map of the country, with all of the paranormal and extraterrestrial hotspots highlighted in bright red pulsing circles.   A small cafe sits nestled in a corner to your left, baristas rushing around frantically in the midst of the morning rush.  A circular desk occupies the center of the room, currently manned by two individuals as they supervise the row of turnstile doors on either side.  Agents stand lined up in front of the doors, some impatiently checking their watches as they wait for the people in front of them to swipe in, others leisurely sipping their coffee.  

You’re reminded that in your haste this morning, you forgot to make yourself coffee, so before you join the agents at the doors, you cheerily purchase your own steaming cup of liquid energy.  You’re not sure if you really need it, with all of the adrenaline rushing through your system, but you figure it can’t hurt.  Sure enough, the warmth of the drink floods your body with a sense of ease, and you can’t help the smile that overtakes your face as you swipe your badge, watching the light on the console turn green as an automated voice says, “Welcome, Agent Y/n.”  Continuing your path towards the elevator, you note with glee an approaching directory indicating that the library and research facilities are to your right, with the short-term containment facilities lying to your left.  Of course, you have learned about all of this in your four years of training, but learning about the immensity of the resources available in the Aether Headquarters and actually seeing them and experiencing them are two completely different things.  You make a mental note to check out the library before the day is over as you enter an elevator car with several other agents.

The electricity in your veins feels nearly tangible as you ascend to your dream.  You note with an amused quirk of your lips that your internal energy seems a stark contrast to the yawns and sleepy gazes of the rest of the elevator.  The 7th floor arrives in the blink of an eye, and you excuse yourself as you weave past a couple agents to exit the car.  After a short navigation of the floor thanks to the clearly labeled and numbered signs, you finally approach the door to your division.  Pronounced in bold, simple characters, the division code ‘S01’ stares at you from the door as you regard it, a slight lump forming in your throat as you take one last sip of your coffee.  Thoughts fly through your head as you go through your mental checklist.  Supervisor = Agent Kim Namjoo.  Your hand is on the shiny chrome door handle.  Mixed division.  You’re turning it slowly.  Potential for other recent graduates to be working here.  Before you know it, the door is swinging open and-- “Ah!”  You’re suddenly met with the startled yelp of a young woman, causing you to flinch as it snaps you out of your reverie.  

The woman chuckles as she brings a hand to adjust her glasses, face quickly smoothing into a sweetly dimpled smile as she looks at you.  “I am so sorry,” she begins upon seeing your startled expression, “you caught me totally off guard.”  She laughs lightly.  “I don’t believe we’ve met!  You must be Agent Y/n.  I’m your supervisor, Agent Kim.”  She extends her hand to you as you blush, blurting out an apology before reaching out your own hand.  “Sorry we couldn’t have met under more formal circumstances, but it’s really no problem as my office is right here anyway,” she explains, gesturing to a door to her right.  

“Nice to meet you, Agent Kim!  I’m really very excited to be here,” you let out a soft chuckle as you begin to regain your composure.  Agent Kim flashes you another gorgeous smile that puts you immediately at ease.  

“I’m so happy to hear that, Agent.  If you wouldn’t mind following me into my office?”  She begins making her way towards her office door.  You quickly oblige, stepping into your supervisor’s spacious office.  Agent Kim takes a seat promptly behind her desk, motioning for you to have a seat across from her.  

“Hold on just one second.”  Your supervisor begins typing away at the keyboard of one of her two computers and you take the brief moment to admire the immaculately trimmed bonsai tree perched next to her.  However, your gaze quickly turns back to your supervisor as you can’t help but acknowledge how absolutely gorgeous she is.  Her skin has all the warmth of the first golden hues of a sunrise.  Brunette hair tied back elegantly, a few strands escape to frame the elegant slope of her face.  Her jawline is pronounced without being too sharp, culminating in the graceful point of her chin.  You flush slightly at your thoughts, mentally scolding yourself.  Great.  First day of work and you’re already simping over your boss.  It’s not your fault you’ve had such a wonderful first impression of her.  Everything about her presence immediately calms your racing heart and soothes any apprehensive thoughts that had crossed your mind on your journey into S01.

“Alright,” Agent Kim removes something from a desk drawer before setting it on the desktop and turning her attention towards you.  “First and foremost, welcome to Division S01!  Like I said, I’m your supervisor, Agent Kim.  This is a mixed division, which I’m sure you’re already aware of as it seems you specifically requested it.”  

You nod.  In the Aether, there are generally three types of divisions that field agents work in.  Each is composed of agents of all levels, from rookies like yourself to seasoned veterans.  Some divisions are dedicated entirely to the more peaceful reports from around the city that are generally non-violent and consist of relatively minor disturbances.  Nothing too serious, but due to their nature, these divisions see a lot of cases on the daily.  In your time at the Academy, you’d interned on a few of these types of cases, one of them involving the containment of an alien squid horde that was interfering with the local fishing economy.  Other divisions deal with the more intense, higher-magnitude cases.  Often violent, these investigations require collaboration from multiple agents throughout the division as they look into paranormal serial murder, shape-shifting extraterrestrial identity theft, and the like.  Divisions like yours, S01, are a hybrid.  They get the best of both worlds and are well suited for agents who are capable of handling everything across the board, and, more importantly, for agents who want to take on that kind of responsibility.  Since you graduated at such a high class rank at the Academy, you had no problem securing a spot in a mixed division such as this one.

“Now,” your supervisor picks up the item she had previously pulled from her desk.  “This is your tablet.”  She slides the device over to you.  “All of your assignments and case files will be sent to you through this, and you’ll have access to a limited virtual library via our digital databases if you find yourself needing that kind of resource.  Of course, you’ll use your agency-issued ID to login and it’ll give you full access!”  She beams as you hold the tablet in your hands.  “Your first assignment has already been sent to you, it looks like…” she trails off, turning to glance at her computer monitor.  Your heart starts picking up again.  You are literally holding your very first professional case in your hands!  

“Do you know what level it is, or who I’ll be working with?”  You can’t help the questions that bubble from your mouth.  Agent Kim shakes her head.

“Unfortunately, that information comes from higher up, so until you open the file yourself I have no way of knowing the details of your field assignment,” she says with a shrug.  Your stomach twists in anticipation, and you’re tempted to unlock your tablet and read through the entire assignment right then and there.

“Alright,” you say with a tentative smile.  Agent Kim returns your expression.

“Now, do you have any questions before I show you to your office?”  Her eyebrows lift as she looks at you expectantly.  “Don’t be timid, I know I had plenty of questions when I became an official agent, but I have found that the Academy really does a spectacular job preparing agents for the field.”

“I do have a question, actually.”  Agent Kim’s face immediately brightens.  “Are there any other recent Academy grads other than myself assigned to this division?”  You’re already aware that your closest friends from the Academy, Yubin and Jeongin, are stationed in different divisions, but you’re dying to know if anyone you recognize from your class at the Academy are in S01.  

“Ah, yes.  I figured you’d ask eventually.  Agent Jeong Jaehyun has been here for about a week now, and Agent Jeon Jungkook started yesterday morning.  They were both listed as having graduated with your class.”

You stiffen as soon as the name ‘Jeon Jungkook’ leaves her mouth.  You aren’t very familiar with Jaehyun, but Jungkook…  That’s a name you’ll never forget.  Top of your class at the Academy, teacher’s pet, fuckboy, irritatingly pretty Jungkook.

“Oh!” you squeeze out through gritted teeth and a tense jaw.  “Good to know!  Thank you, Agent Kim.”

“Of course,” she replies with her warm smile that almost eases the growing knot in your stomach.  “Would you care to see your office now?”

Your office isn’t huge, but it’s certainly functional.  A large sleek metal desk occupies the bulk of the room, with an equally sleek office chair to match.  You silently hope that it swivels.  Apart from the desk and chair, a filing cabinet stands tall in the corner, in addition to a floor lamp.  Another lamp sits perched on your desk beside two computer monitors and a telephone.  A screen nearly identical to, albeit smaller than, the ones mounted in the atrium sits above your desk, the blue and red graphics of your city adding a touch of color not unwelcome in the otherwise very neutral room.  Immediately, you begin considering ways to add your own personal touch to your workspace, inspired by Agent Kim’s bonsai tree.

Agent Kim explains the presence of dual computers, indicating that one is strictly for classified research purposes and details regarding any cases the agency might want to keep more under wraps than others, so to speak.  “The screen,” she adds, gesturing to the wall, “can be used for any video conferences, calls, and the like within the Headquarters and nationwide, as well as providing the same information as the screens--I’m sure you noticed them--in the atrium.”

You nod as she continues to talk, all the while setting your bag on your desk and beginning to unpack your few personal belongings, including your diploma from the Academy.

“I suppose that’s about all you need to know about your office for the time being,” Agent Kim says after reinforcing that your agency ID will be your key to accessing your electronics.  “Go ahead and start getting yourself settled, Agent Y/n.  Agents Kang and Choi should be in the offices directly adjacent to you…” she trails off, seemingly trying to recall if those are the correct agents.  “Anyway,” she claps her hands together, “If you have any questions, well, you know where to find me!  Let me know if you need anything at all.  I mean it.”  Agent Kim once again gives you that calming smile.  Her smile brings you a type of comfort you can’t quite explain, and you honestly couldn’t be happier with your supervisor so far.  She’s warm and inviting, intelligent, beautiful, with an air about her that simply exudes leadership and command.  

“Thank you, Agent Kim,” you match her smile.

With an amiable wave, she heads out.  Your thoughts very quickly turn back to your assignment, and you scramble to sit at your office chair, which does in fact swivel, much to your delight, agency tablet grasped tightly in your hands.  Questions race through your mind at the sight of the black mirrored surface, knowing what lies behind the locked screen.  You figure the case will probably be something low-profile, as you are brand-new, but you really hope that it’s something more advanced  You did graduate close to the top of your class... which brings your mind back to Jeon Jungkook.  He had the honors of graduating first, and you’ll never forget that fact.  You wonder what he’s been assigned, if it’s a more advanced case than is typical for rookie agents.  You probably don’t want to know, however; it’ll only make you more upset if your assignment is comparatively mundane.  At least you can rest in peace knowing that as a newbie, you’ll probably be paired with a more senior officer, and, with all of the agents who work in this division, the odds of running into Jungkook on a case are relatively slim.  You hoped that after you graduated you’d never have to cross paths again, but alas, here you are.  You sigh and run your fingers through your hair before focusing your attention back on the excitement of being here, your future literally in your hands.  The closest you’ve ever been.

Finally unlocking the tablet, you’re greeted by a relatively simple interface that allows you to very easily navigate to your newly received assignment.  The small folder icon sits amidst a sea of other completely unassuming icons, the tiny graphic completely unaware about the significance of its appearance to you.  You open the file, trying to empty your mind of any expectations, and then… your heart sinks.  At the very top of the document, next to your own, who else’s name do you see but Jeon Jungkook.  Well, fuck.

You spend the better part of the next hour contemplating whether you should read the file by yourself or get your shit together and go track down Jungkook’s office so you can go over it together.  Eventually, you settle for a quick skim, though the words barely stick in your mind as you find yourself somewhat preoccupied with thoughts about your partner.  How are you supposed to work with him?  You certainly don’t hate him, but you’ve always had your disagreements.  And you’ll never forgive him for taking your spot in the class, not to mention breaking your best friend’s heart.  

After absorbing as much information as your distracted mind can handle, which consists of a jumbled mass of something about a flower shop and floating objects, your rational professional brain gets the best of you, and you head to your supervisor’s office to inquire about the location of Jungkook’s--Agent Jeon’s--office.  You have a job to do, and as much as you’re dreading facing Jungkook, you’ll get the job done, and you’ll get it done well.  Just as you always have.  And though you can’t stand Jungkook, he’s not useless.

You approach the doorway to Jungkook’s office, finding the door already ajar, before stopping to lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms with your tablet clasped in one hand.  Jungkook is currently intently focused on one of his computer screens, face tense in concentration, chewing lightly on his lower lip.  Tie hanging loose around his neck, the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone, jacket foregone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows with his long slightly wavy hair dangling in his eyes… yep.  That’s Jungkook.  You clear your throat and give a small knock on the threshold.  Jungkook immediately shoots up.  “Y/n!” He exclaims, eyebrows lifted, a goofy smile toying on his face.  You resist the urge to roll your eyes.  “Sorry,” he clears his throat, “I mean- Agent Y/N,” he says, face growing serious as he emphasizes ‘Agent’.  “So,” he folds his hands dramatically on top of his desk.  “What can I do for you?”  You enter the room at last, mouth pursed in a firm line. “Agent Jeon,” you begin, taking a seat across from him.  “It appears as though we have been paired together for our first assignment.”  

“Oh, that’s right!  I saw that. I already read the whole file. Simple stuff.”  His hands are still perched steepled on top of his desk.

You gawk before realizing that of course he had gotten the file first; he’s been here since yesterday, and you figure that there was probably a fair amount of sucking up going on mixed in with, apparently, file reading.  “You...already read the whole file?  Were you ever going to come find me about it?”  It’s about mid-morning at this point, pushing towards noon, and most agents are already well into their work days.  You wonder what Jungkook has been up to all day if not coming to find you, but you suppose you can’t complain.  Reading Jungkook’s name on your assignment with an hour to process that information before actually seeing him is a far better scenario than him randomly showing up at your office expecting you to work with him.

He shrugs.  “I figured you’d come to me first once you found out about it and got settled.  I asked her about you and she told me you’d be here today.  I’ve been busy, and besides, it’s not like it’s a top priority case.”

How can he be so nonchalant about everything all the time while still managing to kiss nearly everyone’s ass?  And what the hell has he been busy with?  You smooth your hair back as you take a deep breath, mentally steeling yourself so as not to go off on Jungkook on your first day of work.  No doubt, you’re still harboring several grudges from the Academy, but you’re a professional now.  A professional.  What a way to start your dream job.

“For future reference, if necessary, I would prefer that we go over the file together in detail first. This isn’t the Academy anymore, Agent Jeon. These are real people dealing with real problems and I’d like to be on the same page as much as possible at every given moment.  Even if the case isn’t ‘top-priority.’”

Jungkook has been like this for about as long as you’ve known him, and although you are mere acquaintances, albeit rivals of a sort, everyone in your class at the academy was well-aware of Jeon “The Golden Boy” Jungkook’s disposition and ass-kissing tendencies.  Top of your class, he always managed the best possible marks while seemingly caring about his work as little as possible.  Showing his face at every party, event, club--you name it--available to him, you have no idea how he managed to get along as well as he did and continues to do.  You suppose it’s probably due to his incredible charm, and some suspiciously large quantity of natural talent, not to mention his good looks.  You may dislike him, but you aren’t blind.  Naturally, his success always bugged you, as you constantly worked your ass off.  Always trailing behind him, never quite catching up, like a dog chasing its own tail, you graduated second in your class.  Years of hard work and careful studying, focusing nearly all of your attention on taking every possible opportunity available to advance your standing, was evidently not enough to best The Golden Boy.  You always got the feeling he wasn’t too fond of you either, not that you really care.  I guess the universe has a strange way of torturing you by assigning you two to the same division in the Aether.

“Noted.”  Jungkook nods.  

“What were you so ‘busy’ with anyway?”  You can’t help yourself.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, eyes shifting away from yours.  “It doesn’t matter, Agent Y/n.  Sorry I didn’t come get you earlier,” he says before clearing his throat, eyes meeting yours once more.  You decide to let the matter go.  Work awaits.

“Very well, Agent,” you say, eyeing him curiously.  “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to go over the contents of the file with you so we both know what’s going on and we can go forward from there.”  You put every effort of your being into injecting nothing but professionalism into your voice, even managing a small, tight smile.

“Fair enough,” he replies as you scoot forward in your chair and unlock your tablet as Jungkook does the same.  Upon closer inspection of the document than earlier, you glean that the report comes from a Mr. Kim Seokjin who apparently owns a flower shop called Worldwide Bouquet downtown.  He claims that his bouquets are disassembling themselves overnight which, understandably, is negatively affecting his business.  He reports instances of his materials floating out of his reach, flowers being flung about his workspace, and the resulting frustration.  Jungkook taps his fingers on the table as you scan the screen, one hand lazily scrolling through his own tablet.

“Sounds like some sort of sprig,” you mutter after perusing the report.  Sprigs are one of the more docile paranormal creatures you’ve studied, typically materializing out of the playful spirit of a child.  As a result, these spirits are typically very mischievous without malicious intent.  Some have telekinetic abilities, some illusory capabilities and the like, but all in all, they are generally fairly easy to take care of and contain until their energy eventually dissipates into the atmosphere.  At least, the Academy had taught you as much.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Jungkook offers.  “A telekinetic one, most likely.  Should be a quick job.”

You nod, slightly disappointed that you weren't going to be dealing with something a bit more exciting than a simple sprig, let alone dealing with it with Jungkook.  The Aether probably isn’t too fond of handing off the more sensitive cases to newbies, even if you and Jungkook more than proved yourselves in the Academy.  Too bad there isn’t too much about the case to actually discuss.  You feel a bit foolish for making such a big deal about Jungkook not coming to you after he originally read the file as you feel your shoulders slump ever so slightly.

“See?  Not top-priority,” Jungkook smirks.  “You didn’t think they’d really give us something important for our first case, did you?”

“Am I really that obvious?”

“Yep.”

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been hoping for something more, but it’s all important work Agent Jeon.”  Besides, if you manage to execute this mission perfectly, considering working with Jungkook proves to be manageable, you’d hope that your next case will be of significantly higher status.

“Of course,” Agent Jeon says, tucking a stray strand of inky hair behind his ear.  “The super important case of the floating flowers,” he snorts.  

You scoff.  “Can’t you take something seriously for once in your goddamn life, Agent Jeon?  I will literally never understand how you managed as well as you did in the Academy.”  Grabbing your tablet in preparation to leave and shaking your head, you stand up.  Jungkook sits unbothered.

“Apparently not,” he retorts, folding his arms across his broad chest.

“Since you seem so blatantly disinterested in this case, I’ll just take care of it myself,” you huff.  “Go back to whatever you were so busy with before, Agent.”

“Agent Y/n, we both know you can’t do that.”

He’s right.  If you execute the mission by yourself without Agent Jeon, it wouldn’t reflect well on either of you, and you can’t risk compromising your image this early in your career.  Especially if it meant you’d be stuck investigating nothing but sprigs for the next ten years.

A long sigh escapes you as you shoot a glare at Jungkook before sitting back down across from him.  You force the fakest smile you think you’ve ever conjured.

“We’re going to stop by Mr. Kim’s later today to get the initial visit out of the way, okay Agent?”  Your voice is thick with mock sweetness.  “3:00, my office.  I’ll be calling Mr. Kim and letting him know we’ll be checking in, kay?”  

“Sounds great, Agent.” Jungkook returns your phony expression.  

You stand up once more, this time with the full intention of actually leaving.  “It was a pleasure, as always, Agent Jeon.”  You straighten your jacket with one hand before promptly exiting, not bothering to close the door behind you.  The last thing you hear is a prolonged, exasperated exhale.  That makes two of us, you muse to yourself.

Upon returning to your office, you slump down in your chair, mind spinning with the incredulity of what just happened.  You’re not sure at all how you’re going to manage working with Jungkook, especially since he seems so hellbent on being as difficult as possible.  This is exactly what you were afraid of.  The feeling, however, is probably mutual, so all you need to do is get through this.  Hopefully after this you’ll never have to man a case with him again, even if you are still stuck in the same division.  

Encouraged by that sentiment, swiveling ever so slightly back and forth in your chair, you manage to boost your mood just enough to finally be able to pick up the phone to call Mr. Kim.

Well, you sigh inwardly.  This should be interesting.

[snowflake-apocalypse]

“English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though.”

“You need to stop.”

It’s been six months since the formation of Global Justice’s new aces, “Team Go-Possible”. Though, the rhyme and reason of it was wrong, Shego was actually enjoying the partnership with her former rivals. Dare she ever admit it out loud. The three grew to have a good dynamic, she thought. Between conversations about world events and the audacity of Club Banana creating a brach-off store, to the double-edged sarcasm they dished out to their adversaries in combat.

Team GP’s missions took them near and far around globe. This time, it was a nuclear power plant in the blustery Netherlands. Some madman claiming the greed of the world has grown to great. That he was the salvation it needed. His answer to said salvation? Implode the richest nuclear power plant in the world to prove his point.

This has got to be the seventh extremist kook we’ve taken on this month.. though the dude’s not wrong..

Kim and Shego are in route to the mountain side factory. Shego landing their sleek jet on an empty field with concentrated ease.“Okie dokie, let’s go get Mr. Doom Gloom before he turns the mountain side into a mushroom cloud-.” Shego powers their craft down, switching various instruments this way and that.

“-Don’t know about you, Kimmie but I’m looking forward to the bocca coffee. No stupid avalanche is going to ruin that.”

Double checking her equipment, Kim spares the woman a glance. “Heh, glad to know where your priorities are, Shego.-” Kim directs her attention to their mission control via comm link.

“-Hey, Wade you got a lock on our position?”

“Always do.” From GJ headquarters, the tech wiz of the team zooms his screen in on their target.

“That is the most creepy, heartwarming thing I’ve heard from you, Load.” Shego quips, donning her green and black cold weather apparel. When she accepted Betty’s offer, the one thing she swore is that she was keeping her colors.

“Uh..thanks? Anyway, I’ve scanned the interior of the facility, the reactor is located in the south side of the building.” Through the wrist-worn Kimmunictor, a holographic layout of the factory appears. Detailing the whereabouts of their target, only one heat signature appears on the layout. The reactor, they assume.

“Wade, this guy is working alone?” Kim quizzical asks, zooming in on the projection.

“From my latest update, yes. The building has been evacuated for safety. No other intel I’ve collected suggests multiple culprits.-“

Wade swipes through the limited file he has on their perp. He had an uneasy feeling about this caper, but couldn’t justify it from a hunch. “-But, please still be careful, you two.”

Shego, after getting one last solid look at the diagram, closes her hand on the blueprint. “Will do, dad. Thanks.”

——

Approaching the bolted door of the factory, Kim still voiced her concerns., “Y’know, I just wished we had more information on this guy.”

Shego directs a small concentration of searing plasma at the deadlock, freeing the door. “Yeah, well I wished they’d appear at GJ’s doorstep. Or just stayed home.”

Cautiously pushing the door open, Shego scans the left side of the interior, while Kim covers the right.

“Okay, Wade. It looks as empty as you said.- Wade? Wade.” Kim, only being met with silence, tries and fails to reach their partner. Somewhere along the trek, the so-called incorruptible signal was lost.

“Fan-freakin’-tastic. Guess the altitude is the weakness.” Rolling her eyes, Shego marches on. “Let’s just shut this joint down before we get any more surprises.” Despite her quiet tone, Shego’s voice echos throughout the vast building.

Creeping through the corridors, the women stay on alert. Passing abandoned offices, break rooms, only Kim’s quiet chatter fills the space. “Hey, about that coffee, you also want to stop at Portugal of the Little Ones?”

“Are you serious, Possible? You want to visit a tiny replica city in Portugal?” Shego raises an eyebrow in Kim’s direction.

“...Yeah.”

If you don’t stop making that damn face...

“..Okay, fine. Portugal.” Shego huffs in faux annoyance. The pair rounded the corner to the vast power center of the facility, the two spot the ticking time bomb.

“Bingo!” Shego exclaimed, running up to the reactor. Which had been armed with specialized munitions.

“This is new.. Newer. What the hell kind of explosive is this?” The younger agent puzzles.

The device, almost cybernetic, jet-black with a single blinking blue light. Upon closer examination, Shego makes out a faintly marked two-pronged arch on the surface. Gaping at the realization, she snaps of her shock.

“No.. No way...”

“What’s up? What is it?”

“This looks like a prototype product of Gemini’s splinter cell scientists. Before he broke off to W.E.E. It’s not on a timer, it’s remote detonation.”

“Gemini? Hold on, then how is some random guy get a his hands on-“

Before Kim could finish her statement, a man’s honeyed voice breaks through the atmosphere.

“Well, you always were the most observant of the team, Shego. Bravo.”

On the grated deck before them, stood a man. Medium build, piercing blue eyes, a mop of brown hair turning grey. All pulled together by a navy trench coat and tactical cargo slacks.

“Sorry, don’t think we’ve met. Unless I’ve taken you hostage or saved you from a flooding city before.” Shego deadpanned, hands resting on her hips.

Leisurely leaning on the rail of the balcony, a shiftiness displayed in his eyes. “Oh no, I didn’t expect you to be familiar with me. But I have been following the folly of Global Justice’s new dream team. I must say, you are quite the force to be reckoned with.”

“And we really don’t want you to find out why.” Kim interjects, conviction lacing her voice.

“-So if you could hand over the remote, shut down the detonation, then maybe we can reach an agreement.”

“Possible. Kim. Of all the people in the bloody world, I thought you would be one to know.. it’s never that simple.” Faster than her reflexes, the man draws a sleek laser-gun from his coat and fires upon the unsuspecting woman.

Center mass.

Direct hit.

“Gah!” With a cry, Kim covers the wound with her hand, bracing herself on her knees.

“Hey!” Shego booms. Hands ablaze, she charges their suspect... no, enemy now.

Kim, biting back the shock and pain, rises to her feet.

Damnit... Sloppy. Get up, Possible.

Kim averts her concentration back to the reactor. Without Wade, she scrambles to find a bypass way of disarming the bomb.

Firing scorching blast after blast, Shego dodges the rounds aimed at her. The room being filled with the leaden smell of burning metal, as the balcony gave way to the force of plasma.

“I swear, that god-forsaken organization is more concerned with the stock market and shiny toys than actual global security-and you! You radioactive madwoman, turn your back on your very profession! The Emerald Rage can’t even decide who’s side she’s on!” Anger and outrage boiling from the man the closer she got.

“Yeah.. y’know your twenties when you’re trying figure shit out... a lot of grey area and robberies in there.” Flipping onto the grate, Shego faces the man with a controlled fury.

“Oh, also I’m on my side and no one else’s. Which, coincidently is the side that doesn’t want a giant crater in the middle of the Netherlands!” Weaving between a few more shots, Shego disarms the man. She restrains him in a firm, plasma-fortified grip. Not enough juice for a second degree burn, but it sure wasn’t comfortable.

“Hello.” The welcome rolling off his tongue like an invitation.

Abruptly Shego is met with a viscous head-butt and a solid tungsten bracelet around her wrist.

“Grrr-! What the hell-!?” Collecting her wits, Shego paws at the metal. Kicking up the intensity of her powers in hopes of liquifying the substance.

Her foe stands back in smug satisfaction, watching her ferocity slowly turn to languid effort. Her flames spasmed, then doused like a candle in the wind.

Shego lightheaded and pale, collapses with heavy bang on the cold metal.

Crouching next fallen woman, he gingerly strokes her raven hair. Conceited grin never leaving his face. “Oh, my my. Did dear Mother Director not tell you about the adverse correlation between tungsten and the Aether comet? I don’t blame her. Must’ve been frightening for her to raise super-powered children, especially if she had no way of controlling them.”

The clamber drawing Kim away from her task, horror at watching the strongest person she knew hit the floor. “Shego!”

“No, no.” Motioning to the button on the detonator remote, he actives the explosives. Sending the entire right side of the structure up in blazing destruction.

Kim instinctively covers her head, in an effort to shield herself from the blast. Evading wooden beams and falling debris, Kim steels and drives on towards her ally.

Producing a small syringe from his coat, filled with a concentrated supply of the fatal alloy. He methodically pushed back the sleeve of Shego’s fleece, carefully injecting the liquid into her bloodstream.

“My father, Jeremiah Asbell had so much passion for his work. So much drive to create a better world. What did he receive for his endeavours? Scorn and betrayal by the very people he supported!-“

Jeremiah Absell.. Absell.. Dr. Absolute. Wait, he had a kid?

“-All to be handed back by some punk children who should’ve been left in a crater.”

As the tungsten courses through her system, melds with her mutated cells, Shego braces the pain gripping her body. She clenches her teeth, fighting for some kind of spark of her dwindling power.

Thanks, Betty. Chalk this up to another ‘I got your back, kid.’ move. Trust sure ran deep there.

With a flicker of ginger hair catching her attention behind a wall, Shego arduously motions her head to face Kim. Olive meets emerald eyes.

After all of the years they spent trading blows, like scorpions in a bottle, after the late night discussions they’d have when neither could sleep... they both knew that look. The look of unwavering determination meeting one of unabated stubbornness. With all of the unknown wild cards revealed, Shego couldn’t afford both of them being killed.

Mustering as much strength as she could, Shego discreetly raises her hand, stopping Kim in her tracks.

Don’t you dare.

[writtenvisionary]

Pique, Turn - #AdrienAugust

Day 11 - “Partners” @adrienaugust

Read on Ao3

Might make this into a multi chap idk lol

His shoes squeaked on the floor as he lifted one leg up, bringing his arms to a circle shape, and made a 360-degree turn… one, two, and three times. Green eyes stared at the same spot across the room, keeping the blonde boy from getting dizzy. When he stops spinning, he releases his tight hold by allowing his right foot to fall behind him into his prepping position.

He breathes a smile as the dance teacher claps, commenting on his technique and how it is nearly perfect.

“Thank you again, Adrien, for agreeing to step in for this competition season,” she says.

Adrien smiles, walking over to his bag by the wall and picking up his water bottle. Unscrewing the cap, he responds.

“It’s no problem! I needed a change of environment, actually. My mother’s studio gets kinda stuffy sometimes.”

Her content expression turns into something more sullen as he takes a large gulp of water.

“Ah, yes. I am so sorry for your loss. How are you doing?”

He shrugs, screwing the bottle cap on.

“I’m alright. Dancing helps me take my mind off the tragedy, at least.”

That’s all it takes for her happy, contented expression to return.

“I’m glad! Well, our group lesson is about to begin. I’d like to introduce you to everyone, as well as your duet partner.”

He nods, grateful that the conversation is back to dance.

“Of course. I’m going to have a snack real quick, if that’s okay.”

“Yes! Take your time.”

She turns away and walks out of the room, leaving him alone in the dance studio.

He sighs, wanting nothing else but to dance, but he knows that his body needs fuel. Especially after such a tiring class.

Adrien’s mother had opened a dance studio a few years before he was born, so he had been training ever since he could remember. After she had tragically passed away from cancer two months ago, he had fought to keep the studio up and running. But as he told Ms. Monroe, it has been very stressful. Adrien feels as if he’s suffocating, simply being there. That’s why he couldn’t resist taking her offer for dancing on her advanced team.

He had been an instructor, taking over his mother’s duties when she had fallen ill. Coming back to his roots was refreshing, to say the least. Plus, he gets to meet his new team, which he is so excited for.

After snacking on his carrots and scrolling through Instagram for a few minutes, the sound of footsteps catches his attention. He looks to the door, finding a girl with curly brown hair and woah.

His chewing ceases as he ogles the bluenette walking in next to her. She’s beautiful. With her shiny, black hair that looked blue in the light… her pink lips.

He blinks, shaking his head and looking away.

I can’t think like that. Be professional, Adrien. Don’t disappoint your mother.

Before he’s even aware, class has started.

Ms. Monroe clears her throat and brings her hands together, making a smack sound echo throughout the room.

“Hi everybody! So as you all know, Tommy just recently moved to Ohio to be with his family due to an emergency. This put a halt on our competition rehearsal schedule. I have taken it upon myself to find a new member for our advanced team, so if you could all please welcome Adrien Agreste!”

She gestures him to join her, to which he does, and the girls in the front row seem to freeze. A blush creeps onto his cheeks as he watches their eyes widen, turning to look at one another in alarm.

“He is an instructor at the Agreste Dance Company. He has been kind enough to help us train for and win this next competition! I will be introducing him to his duet dance partner privately after we rehearse our group number.”

Adrien’s eyes find the bluenette from earlier, causing her cheeks to flush. 

She looks to her feet, knowing that Tommy was my partner so that means Adrien will be my partner. Ohmygosh he is SO HOT—

Ms. Monroe’s clap brings her back to reality.

“Alright, let’s practice!”

——

The group routine went smooth enough, considering that Adrien was still learning all of the moves. He would be lying if his eyes weren’t on a certain blue-haired beauty in front of him. Her movements were fluid and elegant, as if she was an angel floating across the room.

It was a jazz piece, and each snap of her arm or leg caught his attention. He knows that everyone is supposed to work in conjunction and that one person shouldn’t stand out more than the others, but it isn’t his studio and he’s not in the place to critique. Thank goodness, because this girl deserves every solo.

She’s beautiful and talented, and her eyes sparkle and — okay, be professional.

It’s hard to be professional, though, when she’s right there.

“Alright, everyone! That was excellent. Keep up the good work and I will see you all tomorrow.

“Marinette, Adrien. Could you two stay after?”

He wasn’t sure who Marinette was, but he was about to meet her.

Everyone starts to slowly file out of the room, and he glances around nervously to see who isn’t moving to leave. The curly-haired girl with glasses is already halfway out the door. He frowns, wondering who his partner could be.

His eyes widen when he realizes there’s only one girl, besides Ms. Monroe, left in the room — and that the girl is the one who’s been catching his eye this entire time.

“Adrien, meet Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Marinette, meet Adrien Agreste.”

He smiles awkwardly as their instructor introduces them to one another and the girl returns the gesture.

“Hi,” she says softly.

The butterflies in his stomach basically explode when he hears her voice. It’s so cute.

“Hi,” he responds.

She giggles, making him weak in the knees, but he stays strong. With a small burst of confidence, he takes a step forward and kisses her cheek.

He tries not to notice her blush, and to ignore the blush that is creeping onto his cheeks.

“Pleasure to meet you, Marinette.”

“You too, Adrien.”

Ms. Monroe must have decided that was enough because she claps her hands and gets down to business.

“So, this duet is a contemporary piece. Marinette already has her part all memorized, so that’s one less thing for you to worry about, especially since we’re short on time. We will be running the number step by step at first, until you have all of the steps down. Then we’ll speed it up. Okay?”

He nods, putting his game face on.

Each step by itself was pretty easy, in his opinion. He picked up all of the moves very quickly and before he knew it, they were already rehearsing the dance together.

Luckily, he was able to maintain his focus. Learning a new dance always came before his feelings; those feelings would help him build chemistry with his partner when the time comes. For now, he knew that knowing the steps and getting the flow down were his top priorities.

“One more time.”

This time, he let himself feel.

He paid attention to the girl he twirled into his arms. He acted the part and pretended like they were truly falling in love.

When blue eyes met green, they froze.

Maybe… maybe he really was falling in love.

Her eyes are like the ocean. They were pulling him in, and he was drowning. Lost in the deep sea, unable to float up to the surface. They shone so bright, twinkling, and he had to blink but he didn’t want to.

If this is what it’s like falling in love, he never wanted to stop.

“Guys? Marinette?”

She snaps her head to the right to look at Ms. Monroe, breaking the eye contact and giving him a chance to breathe.

“Is everything alright?”

Marinette gulps and nods, purposely avoiding the blonde who was still staring at her from the side.

“Okay… take it from the top.”

Reluctantly, she looks back to him. And once again, they’re lost in a trance. The music had started again but they weren’t moving.

Ms. Monroe just groaned in frustration. He thought he heard her mutter, “Young love, god help me,” but he didn’t care enough to make sure.

A smirk played on his lips, pulling the bluenette in his arms closer to his chest.

“Hey, um….”

Shit. My nerves are kicking in. Quick quick quick!

“Do you wanna,” he licks his lips. “Do you —maybe— wanna, uh, get some dinner with me tonight? After we’re done here?”

Her breath hitches. He’s afraid he made a mistake.

But then she smiles.

And he knows that if it was a mistake, then it was a good one.

“S-sure.”

Marinette clears her throat, pulling away from him and looking at their instructor. She shrinks into herself at the look of frustration that Ms. Monroe is conveying on her face. Then she turns back to him.

“Let’s finish this number, though.”

He smiles, then winks.

“Right. Let’s do it then, partner.”

[scarabbai]

Dire Crowley is a man hard at work, one who wholeheartedly loves his school and every drop of sweat he’s shed while building, repairing, and maintaining its foundation. The scratch of his quill against parchment, the delicate yet deliberate lines of ink elegantly marking his documents, the low and thoughtful hum in his throat as he taps his claws against the table, all of it demonstrates his complete and utter concentration. New students, returning ones, management, fees, staff—he must keep track of it all, organizing existing assets and ordering whatever will be needed for the coming school year. With his mountain of tasks, he scarcely has the time to do anything, even things as simple as enjoying his afternoon tea! Ah, a true tragedy, but he mustn’t stop toiling away. Night Raven College is his pride and joy, and his continual efforts to care for it shall not cease even for a moment. He is kind, after all.

A knock at the door causes him to pause his writing, his quill suspended in midair as he stills. The wood remains unmoved as a ghost—Sir Mallow, one of his secretaries—phases his head through it. They blink at each other for a moment before the spectre clears his throat.

“Mister Crowley, sir?” Mallow brings the rest of his body inside, drifting into the room and hovering before Dire’s desk. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“A visitor? Asking for a meeting now?”

Dire brings a hand to his chin in consideration.

He doesn’t exactly enjoy being disturbed, especially when focused on such an arduous task, and this is rather sudden and unannounced. An excuse to chat or even stretch his legs a bit would be incredibly nice right about now, but he doesn’t have anything currently at the ready to entertain guests. Additionally, putting something together last minute would be a big hassle and not worth the trouble. Oh, unscheduled visits are such a headache to deal with even if they offer a much desired break from paperwork! It’s unfortunate, but he’ll have to decline.

“As much as I’d like to...” Dire heaves a dramatic, over-the-top sigh. “I’m rather busy at the moment. Could you please tell them to come at a later time?”

Sir Mallow wrings his hands—a habit much of the staff frequently point out—and frowns deeply. “That’s the thing, sir... He’s not taking no for an answer.”

“Hm?” Dire raises an eyebrow. “Who is?”

“One Mister Viper, sir.”

He snaps to attention at once, leaning forward in his chair. “Viper? As in, that Viper?”

Surely it couldn’t be that Mister Viper, meaning the famed noble of the Land of Hot Sands, with great power and even greater riches to his name? Of a family said to be the desendants of one of the Great Seven, the Sorcerer of the Desert himself? The man who recently graced the school with his presence, entering his office covered from head to toe in sparkling gold?

Just a couple weeks ago, Dire met with him to praise the flawless and outstanding performance his son—a quiet, brooding boy who spoke only once and glared viciously throughout the entire meeting—displayed during his entrance examinations. He congratulated him with utmost enthusiasm over his son’s acceptance to the school, expressing his overwhelming joy that the prestigious Viper family would even consider Night Raven College. Insisting the very institution was humbled by the Vipers’ presence, he quietly assured Mister Viper that his son would have been guaranteed a place at Night Raven even if he hadn’t passed. He would do anything to please the head of such an important family, after all.

Now, however, Dire is beginning to doubt the effectiveness of his previous displays of hospitality. Could it be that he upset the Vipers somehow? That would be disastrous! With their reputation and resources, they could easily destroy his school in just a few carefully planned moves. Surely that isn’t the case? Surely it is a mere misunderstanding, and Mister Viper isn’t the one knocking at his door?

Alas... “I believe so, Mister Crowley.”

Dread, cold and deep, crawls inside Dire’s chest. Despite this, he quickly wipes any apprehension from his features, turning his distressed frown into a warm, welcoming smile. After all, a good host never shows disdain in front of guests. Opening his arms with a cheerful and hearty laugh, he exclaims, “Well, why didn’t you say so! Please, let him in at once. We are kind, so we mustn’t keep our guest of honor waiting.”

Sir Mallow bows. “Yes, Crowley sir. Right away.”

The moment the ghost leaves the room, Dire leaps into action.

With a flick of his hand, magic surges outward. Stacks of both finished and unfinished paperwork burst into a flutter and begin to file themselves, sheet by sheet, away inside cabinets. Feather dusters spring to life and clean each and every exposed surface with mighty fervor. His work space rearranges itself, morphing from an office desk to an ornate tea table and placing down comfortable chairs. As he pulls his best tin of tea leaves out of a drawer, the table sets itself with his finest china and polished silverware. He rings the school chef for some refreshments to be prepared as quickly as possible before putting the kettle on and sitting down.

By the time Sir Mallow returns and knocks to announce the arrival of his guest, Dire is already pouring tea into his cup. “Do come in!” he chimes, his expression the epitome of cheer as the door creaks open.

He tries very hard not to go slack jawed in shock when it is not Mister Viper who enters his office—it is Mister Viper’s son!

Such an unexpected turn of events! Dire barely contains his sheer surprise and relief as he motions for the young Viper to take a seat, pouring tea for the young man.

The Viper heir—Jamil, he recalls his name was—carries himself with immense grace and poise as he sits across from him, as expected for someone of his social standing. Dire notes he’s looking much more composed and confident than the last time he saw him, his expression borderlining smug. How odd.

Nevertheless, he smiles brightly. “What a pleasure it is to see you again so soon, young Viper! You gave me quite the surprise, showing up unannounced the way you did. You must be tired from your trip here! Please, do have something to eat.” Dire gestures to the desserts lain out on the table, looking on with a pleased expression as the young man plucks a chocolate truffle from one of the trays. He waits for him to finish snacking on the sweet before continuing, “I must ask, are you here on behalf of your father? As I’m sure you remember, I met with him not long ago! He is a very outstanding and brilliant man, and he has many connections as well, correct? Ah, truly remarkable! Absolutely incredible! You know, I actually heard just last week he–”

“I’m not here to run my father’s errands,” Jamil states rather sharply. “I came here on my own. For my own reasons.”

“Oh!” Dire hadn’t even noticed the boy’s expression souring as he blathered on. Perhaps he hit a nerve. “I see,” he backtracks, toning down his enthusiasm. “Then what has brought you here today, young Viper?”

“I want to make a deal with you.”

“Hm?” Intriguing, but unrealistic. “With all due respect to your title, young Jamil, I don’t think it’s possible for me to–”

Out of thin air, the Viper heir materializes a glittering gold coin in his hand, holding it in front of Dire’s face. It gleams and glows like the sun even in the mediocre lighting of his office, and his eyes can’t help but follow its shiny surface as the coin sways back and forth. Crows adore sparkling trinkets after all, and Dire is no exception. Even as the gold piece is placed on the table, he remains greedily focused on it.

Just as he considers snatching it up for himself, the young man strikes, and the prize disappears back into his hand. He then tauntingly rolls the coin across his knuckles, showing off some sleight of hand and causing three more to appear before all four golden pieces vanish once more.

“Actually,” Jamil’s voice drips with arrogance as he nonchalantly examines his nails, “I think it is possible, Mister Crowley.”

Curse his feathers for being weak to such treasures! His inner crow can never resist such a dazzling gleam, and there might even be greater riches in waiting.

He must, at the very least, hear the offer.

Despite his immense irritation upon seeing the boy’s conceited smirk, Dire folds his hands and remains outwardly civil. “I’m listening.”

The Viper’s victorious grin turns downright egotistical as he sets down seven positively radiant golden discs between them. Pushing the coins toward Dire, he states his order:

“Fetch two files for me. I need records changed, information altered, and details fabricated. I’ll give you a basic story. Make it believable, and forge the evidence to back it up if need be.”

“And,” he silences the complaints on the tip of Dire’s tongue with a raised hand, “I want you to make it untraceable. No proof, no messiness. Like everything’s always been that way.”

The allure of the gold is tempting, but even Dire eyes the little snake and his offerings with suspicion. Such a sudden and specific request, and with so much to it as well! How troublesome. His lips curved downward in the smallest of frowns, he counters, “Now, young Jamil... What, pray tell, gives you the idea that I am capable of doing such things? I am merely the headmaster of a school, you know.”

The boy has the gall to laugh in his face.

With dramatic flourish, Jamil opens his hand to reveal a crisp slip of paper. Holding it up between his fingers, he waves it around in a mocking manner before placing it face down and sliding it across the table.

“See if this will change your mind.”

When Dire picks it up, his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets in shock, and his head spins with the number of zeroes staring him in the face.

Jamil, on the other hand, doesn’t even bat an eyelash as Crowley fusses over the cheque. Instead, he takes a moment to preen and bask in the glory of his success before growing bored, rolling his eyes, and snapping his fingers to get the attention back on him.

“You may be downplaying your talents in an attempt to worm your way out of this, but I know the truth.” He points a finger directly at the headmaster’s face. “You’re a powerful man, Mister Crowley. I’m sure you can figure it out and get the job done.”

The man—fae?—changes his tune quick as he pockets the bribes, becoming pleasant and cheerful once more. “Young Jamil, I will fulfill your request!” he declares in a booming voice. Then, in a much quieter one, he adds, “I shall listen, for I am kind.”

Jamil’s lips curl into a devious smile. Perfect.

“That’s what I thought.” He leans back in his chair. “Now, here’s what I have in mind...”

[tyongf-nct]

tyongf-nct 1k special - choi san smut

First off, i’d just like to write a nice sappy message and sincerely thank everyone that has chosen to follow this account, interact, and read my stories! Writing is such a fun thing for me to do and relieves a lot of stress, especially when it concerns my favorite kpop boys haha. I am so glad that you are all liking what i have written and i hope you look forward to more stuff in the future! 1k is my first big milestone and although i know its maybe 1/10th of what some other writing blogs have, it’s still a very big deal to me and i am really excited that we are growing into such a cool little family! Of course i encourage you all to send in asks and requests, but if you ever just want to chat, rant, vent, or fangirl, i am always here! Message me whenever :) thank you all again! <3

Here is my first ateez piece, a nice san smut bc he’s my bias lmao

~

You knocked on the door to the CEO’s office, straightening your tight pencil skirt and shuffling the stack of papers around in your hand. 

“Come in,” a deep voice called from the other side of the door. You pushed the door open, letting it fall close quietly as your heels clicked across the floor of the huge office. You stopped just in front of the mahogany desk, placing the files on it before clearing your throat, gaining the attention of the CEO--Choi San.

“How can I help you, Miss y/n?” Mr. Choi’s voice was smooth like velvet, the words coating the air beautifully as he smiled a brilliant smile. His eyes crinkled with it, the expression taking over his whole face in the most beautiful way. You grinned back, meeting his eyes with a slight flush to your face. Truthfully, the two of you had been sleeping together for some time now, but it had turned into more than that. These days, Mr. Choi--San--had been taking you out on dates and surprising you with flowers and gifts for everyone in the office to see. It was a little embarrassing, but you knew his heart was in the right place. It was definitely better than trying to sneak around like you had at first.

“Mr. Park would like to know whether to reschedule the meeting for later this afternoon or tomorrow morning,” you said. San nodded, thinking it over for a moment before looking back up at you.

“Tell him let’s do it today. I want to finish this up, I’m tired of dragging the debate on,” he said. You nodded, shooting Mr. Park a quick text with the instructions. You set the phone down on the desk too, swallowing but not saying anything else. San raised a quizzical eyebrow at you, looking your figure up and down before smirking.

“Is there anything else you needed?”

You bit your lip, wondering how to phrase that you wanted him to bend you over the desk while still maintaining professionalism. You bit your lip, feeling the heat creep onto your cheeks as you stood unmoving.

“I was wondering…” you started. He cocked his head to the side, a single piece of hair falling perfectly onto his forehead. He reached up to remove his glasses, seemingly already knowing what you were trying to say. He folded his hands onto the desk, the shiny watch on his wrist glinting in the sunlight pouring in from the ceiling to floor windows behind him.

“I was wondering if you could, you know, satisfy me before the meeting. I’ve been thinking about it all day,” you choked out. San chuckled, smoothing a hand through his hair before standing at his desk. Despite your heels, he still towered over you, exuding power and authority. You felt a swirl of arousal rush through you, remembering the last time he took you in his office. You had been pressed right up against the glass, your breasts spilling out of your bra for everyone down below to see. San walked around his desk, stopping when he was just a few inches away from you, still not touching. Tease.

“What exactly would you like, Miss y/n? My fingers? Tongue? Or maybe my cock?”

You let out a whine, nodding and reaching for the buttons on his shirt before he grabbed your wrists, stopping you.

“No touching. I want you to bend over the desk for me,” he said. You sucked in a breath, looking over to the unlocked door but San turned your chin back to him with a ringed finger, tutting quietly.

“Don’t worry about that. If they walk in then it’ll just show that you’re mine,” he whispered. You swallowed, nodding and bending over the side of the desk. His hands were warm as they ran up your bare thighs, lifting the skirt until it was bunched up around your waist. You patted yourself on the back mentally for wearing good panties, feeling heat creep into your core as San stared at them, whispering praises under his breath. He hooked two fingers around the fabric, pulling to the side before kissing up the inside of your legs. You bit your lip to hold in a groan, not wanting the other secretary that was right outside to hear you. San nipped at the skin a few times before meeting your wet core, placing a kiss on it before licking one long stripe up. He got close to your other hole, making you yelp but stopping just before reaching it, chuckling against your flesh.

“One day, baby. Not yet,” he mumbled, returning to your sensitive heat. He tongued the bundle of nerves, circling it once before sticking his tongue deep inside you. You gasped out his name, clutching anything your hands could find on this desk as he fucked you with his tongue, sucking harshly with his lips. The obscene noises echoed through the office, mixing harmoniously with your stifled moans and nails scratching on the desk. San pulled away just for a moment, slapping your ass lightly.

“Don’t scratch that, it’s mahagnony,” he said. You groaned, rolling your eyes and reaching behind you to push his head back to your center. He snorted, pressing his lips to you once again with a smirk you could feel. Pleasure spiked up your body as San ate you out from behind, big hands kneading your flesh roughly as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. Being so turned on all day and the risk of getting caught was overwhelming you, adrenaline and hormones coursing through your veins. The muscles in your legs tightened when your orgasm neared, a moan ripping from your throat just as San pulled away.

“I want you to come around me, baby girl. Not yet,” he licked the arousal off his lips, the sound of his belt clinking from behind you as he tapped his tip against your folds a few times. You cursed in a whisper, turning your head to watch him just as he entered you, pleasure relaxing his features as he groaned, tossing his head back. He moved his hands to your waist, gripping you tight enough to leave bruises as he started to fuck into you. The bareness of his cock against your walls was incredible, the slide of it easy and smooth.

“Fuck,” he growled, balls slapping against your skin with every thrust. Your chest hurt a little, being pressed so close to the hardness of the wood, but you paid it no mind as San fucked you over the desk with increasing speed. He leaned over to press his chest to your back, the heat of his body flowing through both of your clothes. Your mouth opened to a silent ‘O’ as he nipped at your neck, muttering praises and profanities into your ear.

Your orgasm crashed into you after only a few minutes of him fucking you, curling your toes inside your heels and making your knees shake with the effort of trying to hold yourself up. Your hands gripped at the edges of the desk as he finished inside of you, warm ropes of come coating your walls as he struggled to keep quiet, panting harshly with a few weak thrusts before pulling out.

You could feel the come starting to drip out of you and down your center, but San pressed a finger into you, pushing the liquid back inside.

“Keep it in. I want you to hold it in throughout the whole meeting,” he said, pulling your panties back up over you and your skirt back down, wiping away the wrinkles. You moaned, resting your forehead on whatever files were under your head and nodding.

“Yes, sir.”