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astrangergivingthestrangewelcome · 1 year

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As Much As Is Realistically Possible We Should Avoid Getting Our Panties in a Twist Over Being Faithful To The Canon: Me Giving Dracula Opinions Alongside a Good Does Of Generic Fandom Philosophy Because I'm A Procrastinating Idiot Who Likes To Hear The Sound Of My Own Voice

Don't get me wrong I fucking hate when what I personally love about the canon is ruined in adaptations. Still waiting on any adaptation to actually give me a post-castle Jonathan which is in any way as interesting as he is in the book. But also, the nature of fandom and fanfiction and fanon and all that is we all engage with a story, are drawn to some aspect of the canon which resonates with us, and then typically use this as a jumping off point to explore things that the text doesn't. This is true for pretty much everyone out here draculablogging.

For example, there is in my opinion absolutely no evidence that Lucy Mina and Jonathan were a trio of childhood friends. Lucy's family does not seem to have property in Exeter and Jonathan literally never thinks about Lucy on his own. It seems obvious to me that Mina and Lucy met at boarding school. I'm quite happy to keep this element of canon in my fics because it makes sense to me. Conversely I do like to dabble in Van Helsing: Vampire Slayer, and that is expressly not canon. But idrc because it's more fun and interesting to me to have it that way. People who want to see Lucy, Jonathan, Mina childhood best friend trio bc they think it's cute are just as valid, even though I don't particularly care one way or the other. It's kinda silly to be like *eye roll* well this is fanon not canon when I guarantee you if you really look at your own preferences you're doing it too, and who really cares? People just like different things. Plus the whole point of fandom is you can go places where the canon didn't like if you write in a best friend trio then you get to explore why Lucy and Jonathan apparently grew apart. If you write an occult background for Van Helsing you get to maybe color in some of his odd edges. That's cool and good who cares if it's not strictly accurate as long as you don't pretend you're being canon compliant.

Now, those two examples are pretty innocuous, but bc this novel gets pretty heavy at times, naturally the Discourse amps up when things amp up. For example, I really like to write Mina having a lot of rage. I like her to want to rip Dracula limb from limb (granted my fics always have her role-swapped with Jonathan in the books). I am well aware that this is not in her book character at all, who consistently pities Dracula and counsels against vengeance. Personally, I just think vengeful Mina is more fun, and it's also true that I don't appreciate how Bram Stoker is like "yes perfect christian woman. perfect. all mercy. so pitying." I don't think it's quite realistic to what her feelings would be to a man who assaulted her and I also think she should get to be waaaayyy more angry about the way Dracula abused the two people she loved in all the world. I like feminine rage and I think Mina should have some and so I write her as having some. But I also get that plenty of people don't really vibe with righteous anger and like Mina's whole mercy bit and find it really really compelling, and sure plenty of victims of assault in the real world are not preoccupied with revenge. And that's such a valid take and fics that run with it are more reflective of Mina's book characterization than mine. And once again both are good. Neither side needs to be going "well MY changes are inherently more feminist than yours" to justify our preferences, it's just what we like, we can just like it, and if there is a feminist slant to what we think/write/draw it does not mean the other take is anti-feminist.

This is also why, in my opinion, it's truly not that deep if people want to ship their little harkula dracumina dark romance ships. Like full disclosure I think some of the most fucked up harkula stuff can be hot, but I have 0 interest in reading the stories that really focus on Dracula embodying the repressed desires of either Jonathan or Mina. I do absolutely exclusively read the stuff where Dracula is an unsympathetic abusive monster, and I want to read stories that use that as the anchor for horror, and I want to read stories that have Jonathan and Mina overcoming that abuse.

Now That Doesn't Mean I think the people who want to do the whole twisted love stockholm syndrome thing are bad or shouldn't do it. They are clearly just coming to the text from a completely different place than I am. It's not like I would disagree that at the very beginning before the torture began Jonathan was kinda attracted to Dracula in the Victorian queer horror way. If people want to do the whole reincarnated wife thing with Mina bc idk they really like the Coppola film or whatever, sure. I will not read that, but I'm not going to invent reasons why they're Bad Dracula Fans. It doesn't matter if it's not canon, so long as you don't say it's canon (why did you name it Bram Stoker's Dracula Francis it's not Bram Stoker's Dracula you did not adapt ANY of the characters faithful why are you lying)

Anyway I know I'm not really saying anything new, and mostly the Dracula fandom has been fine but I have seen a few takes out there acting like canon is a trump card that it truly isn't, and i've also definitely seen people get up on the moral high horse on like, depictions and portrayals of abuse etc. and although fandom can be a wonderful space to tell important, compelling stories about heavy topics, when people don't want to do that, they're not less moral than you. Lots of the time they're trying to tell important, compelling stories about heavy topics of a different sort, and sometimes they're writing porn. This is normal fandom stuff.

#dracula #dracula spoilers

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theuniversalscat · 2 years

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So Abraham Hicks discusses manifestation of life in a slightly different manner than most with the “law of attraction” being that your vibrational state is what you receive in your 3rd dimensional reality. But even if you feel like you’re not getting what you want and wonder if you’re doing “life” right according to actively having your desires show up the way you dreamed in the 3D, it’s a good thing. It is actually the very first step to a better vibrational outlook; the noticing of your feelings of wanting change. Amping up your energy to a more positive vibration is the key. But you can’t do it without first noticing how you feel. So even with just your desire & decision to attempt to feel good or better, you are that much closer vibrationally to achieving and receiving the benefits of the better feeling you’re looking for.

One way to try to feel better, is to teach yourself to become more disciplined with what you choose to focus on. If what you’re focusing on is making it hard to create the feeling of well being, then turn away for a bit and choose to focus on something, even if it’s in your own mind, that will garner a better feeling from within. The choosing, even if you don’t feel like you’re doing it to your satisfaction at the time, is the beginning of the momentum that you’ll need to make the positively charged vibration to move from your current lower vibrational energy, to something that feels a bit better.

So how do we do that when we wake up, and the dog has thrown up in her blankets, and you’re running late, and the blender in which you’re making a smoothie (which I never do cause I’m not that motivated) just overflowed, spilling kale mess all over the counter, and uh oh, you now notice that your dog that puked on her blankets has now chewed up yet another fire stick, this being the 4th or 5th one now not including the other remotes, (and yes, that did happen cause I have a dog named, “metal mouth Hazel”, my son wrote a song about it, and sings in a death metal style that if Hazel heard she would definitely stop chewing and stare at him curiously…), and your bills are due but your stressed about money, and you have to make your son’s lunch, and, and and, and and, and you still have 57 things you put off til the morning and now it’s morning making it difficult to get everything done and not be stressed out?

How do you feel after reading that last paragraph? Did it remind you of the stress in your own life? How about me even mentioning the word stress? Everything we focus on affects us vibrationally, and you just read “stress”. So, I suggest not reading the above paragraph, and maybe you didn’t, which means that you aren’t reading this or not. But, on the off chance you did read that word, which you would have if you are a person that reads things in their entirety in sequence, that’s just how life works sometimes. We get things handed to us that we don’t even know we’re accepting. Most comes from our previous vibrational state, and we sit there resonating with the energy from our own thoughts about the undesired that we accepted without realizing it, hoping it will become better on its own without our help. Although we think it’s just bad luck or fate, there are things that we do have control over to lessen the perceived “blow” of our current situation we’re experiencing.

One way to do it, is by choosing to take a breath. That one breath can separate you, literally giving yourself some “breathing room” from your current situation. From that detached state, you can create a more peaceful perception. “Ok, yes, I see how in the past my ways of dealing have only made things worse for me, so I’m going to stand here for a brief stint and go blank in my mind.” That “reset”, can help you through even the most trying of experiences. Through that surrender comes an open forum for better solutions to what you may deem as “problematic”, and help you get through it (because there’s always a moment after) with greater ease.

If you, from that place of a little better but still a bit wonky, have some time and are willing to work on it, there are other ways to bolster your energetic position. You can purposefully create a surplus of more positive energy by reading positive words that can automatically upon taking them in, create a more balanced approach to life in general from within. Notice the feeling in your body after you read each one either aloud or to yourself.

I will post from an Abraham Hicks grouping of words that you can repeat daily, or more if you are feeling the impetus to do so. I’ll start where we are now, at the beginning; the A’s:

Ok. I went to the website, and went to cut and paste, and it didn’t work. No problem. I have a few choices, and how to choose to feel about it. I choose to not get upset or frustrated, and try to add the link to the whole article. Let’s see if that works… nope. And ironically the website was called, “discovering peace”. I choose to not facetiously love the irony! Ok, I will go back, and type the A’s myself. Please hold…

Abounding

Abundance

Adored

Ok, I only remembered 3 of the 7 I just read 2 seconds ago. I could think I’m starting to develop some sort of terrible brain situation, but I won’t go there just yet. Instead I’ll go back, and refresh my mind with the words, and not kick myself about it anymore than I already have. Please hold…

Ok! Here’s a few more:

Abundant

Adventurous

Adventure

Aha!

Aha? Yes! Aha! You’ve now discovered how it works. Try it for a week, and notice the changes in your perception. 👍💓🙌🌈

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hologramcowboy · 2 years

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Hello,

I really like your blood and your balanced take on things. I also like that you are a fan of Jensen but aren’t blind to his faults. I also can’t help but sympathize with your thoughts on Danneel. Not a fan.

I listen to the Drama Queens blog semi-regularly and on the last two podcasts two of the host (Hilarie and Joy) spent a weird amount of time talking up Elta: she’s so sweet, and kind, and intelligent and hardworking. She’s just the best! Honestly, it felt very over the top and out of nowhere the first time. The second time, the one host reiterated the same things, but at least it had some context because she’s supposed to be on the show next week. Not looking forward to that.

Anyway, my point is that the praise seemed very over the top and disingenuous (the second part could be my own bias), but I have to wonder if the criticism towards her has amped up lately and she’s leaning on friends/acquaintances for help fight the criticism and bolster her image. She is such a classic case of all talk and no action relating to her being a decent person.

Why do you think there is a current ramp up in trying to make her seem relatable and like a good person? I really don’t see her "career" picking up any time soon, especially with The Winchesters looking like a dumpster fire in the making that people, especially Jensen, will likely want to distance themselves from.

I don't know if you've had a chance to see but the People fluff pr article she ordered ended up being in the top search results for Jensen Ackles so Danneel is playing the long game, she has no talents of her own so the best she can do is coattail on Jensen's success but to do that she first has to dispel her previous reputation.

I think you are spot on in observing that the other actresses are sucking up to her and helping her dispel rumors but the most important question is: Why is she fighting these rumors so hard if they are untrue? That's a LOT of effort being put into fighting rumors instead of building a career and that just makes her seem fishy to me. It's almost like she's afraid of losing her one and only ticket to fame, namely Jensen.

By the way, actors often network and create connection to get ahead, so often they will suck up to get into people's good graces and be cast. Which is what I think is happening in this case, she's praised because of her relation to Jensen. Had she not married Jensen I doubt her colleagues would have given her the time of day after OTH. And since her career is at a standstill, she is waiting to bank on The Winchesters and in the meantime resorted to the only appearance she could get, yet again by nepotism, just like most of her roles.

"Why do you think there is a current ramp up in trying to make her seem relatable and like a good person?" Credibility. Jensen and the studios know she lacks credibility and therefore she's making an effort to shift her image. It's the same reason why she started with the activism, so she could turn it into a selling point as evidence by that People fluff piece that was so badly written and clearly showed the writer didn't even remotely have anything to get in touch with when it came to Elta's "activism". Thank you for the extremely sweet comment at the beginning of the ask, I am glad I'm not the only one who can see right through her. 💕

Disclaimer: This is just MY opinion. Please take only what resonates and ignore the rest.

#anti danneel ackles #anti danneel #anti elta graul

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my-bated-breath · 3 years

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Closing Thoughts on Vincenzo

No one asked, but here you go.

I watched the last two episodes of Vincenzo yesterday, but even in the midst of my viewing experience I was able to synthesis and analyze what I was enjoying and not-enjoying, what worked and what didn’t work (for me), so that itself says something about how immersive it was. Of course, Vincenzo is a great show — the action is sharp and satisfying, the schemes are elaborate and spectacular, the humor is cracky yet genuine, and the characters are so, so lovable. And I loved the romance side plot, because yes, I am weak. Still, the last 2-4 episodes strained some of that, and this is my take on why I felt not exactly disappointed, but underwhelmed in the final stretch. I’m also including what I did like at the very end, as that makes sense with how I’m structuring this kind-of-analysis.

spoilers below

Tension, Stakes, and Pay-off

The tension in Vincenzo has been ramped up ever since the death of Vincenzo’s mother, loudly and painfully declaring in that moment that “this is not a game” (contrary to Vincenzo telling Hanseok in jail that he’s toying with him). This leads to a chilling confrontation between Vincenzo and the antagonists while also uniting the residents of Geumga in all-out, unapologetic war. And there is no more game of chess — just one of cat and mouse, with Vincenzo descending upon his prey.

Hence, Vincenzo is noticeably less soft, and he strikes Babel with the steel of his resolve. His schemes feel much more sinister than mischievous as they had been before; he is ending this, once and for all. So, how does the show amp up the tension and stakes from there?

Well, it’s all in what I said before. The tension is teased out in Vincenzo stealing everything Hanseok has ever treasured and then taunting/threatening him in prison, and then with the Babel villains descending into chaos and desperation. The stakes, however, are less noticeable, because Vincenzo is kind of obviously winning. The stakes have already been established with Vincenzo’s mother, then paid off with her death, and then paid off even more with Vincenzo mercilessly seizing the upper hand.

That’s why I feel like Myunghee and Hanseo’s death just... happened. Because it’s been 3 whole episodes since Vincenzo has founded this new resolve, that sort of dragged out follow-up loses its thrill and gratification. They’ve been defeated now, completely and totally. But so what? They’ve been on the losing end for more than 3 hours of screen time now, and even their last resort of a counterattack didn’t hold much narrative weight (which is something I’ll get to later). Their deaths are not boring to say the least — I saw a post that said something similar to “Myunghee, a woman who danced to the music of others’ pain, died dancing to her own” and “Hanseo, a man with no heart, has a hole drilled into that empty cavity.”

But their deaths also happen very isolated from everyone else, not just physically, but emotionally as well. It’s almost as if Vincenzo’s clapping his hands and saying, “Let’s wrap this up now, I’m getting a little tired.” And while I wouldn’t say their deaths are unnecessarily cruel, given everything they’ve done, I don’t think Vincenzo does this in response to anything particularly substantial. Is this for his mother’s death? For Chayoung’s injury? For everyone else? Well, maybe, but it sure didn’t feel like he was contemplating that during or after torturing them. If I put the Vincenzo from the beginning of the show there in those two scenes vs Vincenzo from the end of the show, post character development and all, I think the only difference would be that beginning-of-the-show Vincenzo would still be unfamiliar with Babel’s crimes and see this as a waste of time.

A sort of side note: Now, one of the strong points of this show is its use of comedy in its otherwise very serious schemes (I still thinking about episodes 8 and 15 all the time). But with the impending climax and increasingly serious tone, there was no comedy to make said-serious schemes as engaging to watch. So now unable to rely on one of its greatest strengths, the show must rely on emotional impact. Or similarly: narrative weight.

Narrative Weight

In episodes 19-20, Chayoung is shot, Hanseo dies, and Chulwook is stabbed (and you think he’s going to die but he doesn’t). Who said there was no emotional impact in these episodes again?!

Oh right. Me.

Beyond Hong Yuchan and Oh Gyeongja’s death, injuries and fatalities suffered from our protagonists’ side don’t really have that many consequences. You can argue the consequences of Hanseo dying is that we’re all very sad, but both we and the characters are barely given a moment to grieve before we have to move on. What does Hanseo die for? He dies as an abuse victim just beginning to break out of the cycle he was trapped in, and that itself isn’t necessary a bad narrative choice, and he dies as a warrior in this Mafia vs Conglomerate war, but what does he die for? If it’s for Vincenzo and Chayoung to live, they pretty much get lucky with Hanseo running out of bullets. If it is to show that he had changed, and that this tied into some greater theme of redemption, then his death really isn’t really given enough thought for it to resonate well. I would’ve loved to see Vincenzo reflecting on Hanseo learning to trust and love again, despite all the mistakes he made in the past, and how that influences his own decision to embrace his version of villainous justice. But no. This is something I only thought of after reading a few Vincenzo posts and trying to justify my own moral for the show.

Don’t forget that Chulwook almost dies too. Like I genuinely believed he was dead, shed a tear for the daughter he would never meet, and then the show went like, “Guess what? Psyche!”

I’m not very fond of that injury/pseud-death-but-not-really.

And now we have Chayoung, the person who Vincenzo is the closest to. Don’t get me wrong, I amso weak for her never giving into Hanseo and asking for death over Vinceno getting hurt, for guarding Vincenzo from the bullet, for Vincenzo’s shocked and empty eyes, for Chayoung’s glazed gaze, for him desperately and powerlessly hugging her tightly because that’s all he can do for her now. Afterwards, she’s in the hospital, her shoulder is recuperating, and there’s a nice Chayenzo parallel to episode 4 when Chayoung was waiting by Vinny’s hospital bed. But afterwards afterwards? She’s just in the hospital. Sidelined from the climax.

Vincenzo told her, “I will finish this, for you.” That could’ve worked, because we could’ve seen Chayoung emotionally or spiritually with us during the climax and Myunghee and Hanseo’s deaths. But like I mentioned earlier, it really didn’t feel that way. Ultimately, the narrative tells us that Chayoung’s injury just means she can’t strain herself for a couple of days, despite initially delivering it so dramatically and emotionally.

As one of my friends said while we were discussing this episode: Vincenzo is the titular character, but Chayoung has so much to care for too. Her father died because of Babel, and she said, “We should share the danger.” Instead, we got a decentish-but-slightly-underwhelming scene where she is driven to see Vincenzo off. Okay then.

Characters

Speaking of, Chayoung receives much of the short-end of the character development stick in the last 4 episodes. I found this to be acceptable in episodes 17-18, and she does have that moment where she looked uncertain and nauseated at the death of the “hunting dogs” before shoving down her misgivings, clinging onto a facade of strength as she says “this is what I wanted.” Also, even though it wasn’t episode 14, I wasn’t complaining about the Chayenzo moments either.

But still, this is the second most important protagonist in the narrative and nothing about her really changes in these last few episodes. Nor does she experience catharsis alongside Vincenzo, emotionally or otherwise. There had been some buildup about whether or not Chayoung can swallow the cruel path that she has chosen, but if she’s not even the given the chance to make her own decision on said cruel path, that’s just wasted set up.

(I know that during the Babel Tower party-fiasco Vincenzo told Chayoung that he originally wanted her to push the button that’ll kill one of the hunting dogs, but then decided against it upon seeing Chayoung’s wavering face, but like. Narratively, if she was the one to press it, and then we had some follow-up character arc about her coming to terms with her decision... Oh, we could’ve had it all.)

Another thing I want to point out is that Chayoung has been a foil to Vincenzo in that she represents the happiness, love, and innocence now unattainable to him. (This is just his view, by the way, since Chayoung isn’t exactly innocent herself, which he could’ve seen if the show had only taken this direction.) That is to say, Vinceno’s most interesting character moments are drawn out of him by Chayoung: In his apartment, when they are under the ceiling-stars, and she asks him whether he has ever killed anyone. On the rooftop, when they decide that Hanseok must lose everything before he dies, and he promises to her that he’ll stay in Korea to see things through to the end, in direct contrast to himself at the beginning of the show. In the highway pass, when she embraces him after a gunfight, the closest he’s ever grazed past death. When they drink makgeolli together and he tells her about what her father wanted to say to her. When they sit together by the riverside and she tells him that his mother would have been proud of him.

One of my favorite parts of episodes 11-12 during the gun fight is just how emotionally present Chayoung is, despite not wielding a gun herself, or even being anywhere near the action. I’m not sure if I’m getting this right, but I think this is the first time Vincenzo had killed people on screen, so to see Chayoung embrace him so tearfully afterwards almost felt like he was being reminded of his humanity. And this also shows that Chayoung, despite saying that she would feel distant towards Vincenzo if he did have blood on his hands, loves him closely, so closely it hurts.

We think about Vincenzo, what it means to be a consigliere, and his distorted flashbacks of flesh and blood and killing and losing himself, and that teddy bear, slowly panning out to a child, staring at him in fear. We think about how is it possible for him to love again? Can he even know what love is?

Then Chayoung appears, a woman whose very presence unraveled the mystery that is Vincenzo. But the moment that Chayoung’s development was stunted, that was the moment Vincenzo lost his foil, and we, the audience, lost the ability to see how his past, present, and future reconcile.

Themes: Loving in Sin

In episode 20, Vincenzo and the monks have a conversation about whether he was worthy of love or not before being told that he was Vaisravana — and though he could never be accepted by Buddha, he would be appreciated at times, and he would have his own role to play too. I like this conversation a lot in concept. In execution, it would’ve left much weightier an impact if only we had seen Vincenzo’s journey to reconcile his villainy and humanity play out more, if we had a glimpse into the moral conflict warring in his mind. The last time the drama showed that to us — not told it to us — was with the death of Vincenzo’s mother.

I would add more, really, but I feel like my review up until here says everything I want it to. In my opinion, there was no real epiphany that Vincenzo reached upon hearing those words from the monk because he hadn’t reflected on it enough for there to properly be one. And the ending to Vincenzo and Chayoung’s romance would’ve felt a lot better if it was Vincenzo choosing to love her despite his fear of himself, despite his belief that he could only hurt people. (Also that ending monologue wouldn’t have felt so tacked-on, like, oh wait this is supposed to have a theme right? Here, this is vaguely related, right?)

Because a lot of this emotional potential was not quite met, I think the finale also had to resort to some cheaper ways to make us feel for the romance, such as Chayoung rushing to see Vincenzo off and Vincenzo leaving the diplomacy-relations party early (he very poetically disappears while walking behind this sculpture, but I thought it was hilarious that if the shot didn’t get cut off there in another 2 seconds we could’ve seen him walking out of where that sculpture thing blocked him lol).

Overall though, I’m pretty happy with the romance’s ending, at least conceptually. The way they incorporated the story of cow herder and weaver girl and the bridge of pigeons (not magpies!) that will allow them to see each other again every year was so bittersweet, and as someone familiar with this myth, it made me very nostalgic. Also, I do think it works better with Vincenzo’s themes that he would be apart from Chayoung in some way. They each have their own lives to lead, but although they met by coincidence, they’ll remain by each other’s sides by intention. He is a villain, and so is she, but villains love tenaciously.

#vincenzo #chayoung #chayenzo #chaenzo #which one is it huh #jang hanseo #kdrama #i'm so tired i tried posting this so many times #i made a whole side blog so i could post this review without exposing myself as a kdrama fan #but it's not worth it #anyways these are my thoughts #please let me know yours #but only if you phrase it in a kind way #apparently this is 2279 words of me breaking down #my bated breath analyzes #my bated breath's posts

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stylesnews · 3 years

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A year ago, the guitar was in dire straits. With songs like Travis Scott’s “Sicko Mode,” Ariana Grande’s “7 Rings,” Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts” and Panic! At the Disco’s “High Hopes” among the most consumed of 2019, programmed beats and horns were the sonic flavors of popular music. Sure, there were outliers — the Jonas Brothers’ “Sucker,” Maroon 5’s “Memories” and Post Malone’s “Circles” among them — but as the rock and alternative genres embraced artists like Billie Eilish, whose innovative music made the traditional band approach feel outdated, the days of chords and solos seemed numbered if not headed towards irrelevance.

Then came the coronavirus pandemic and things changed. Forced to perform from home or in rooms not intended for live music during lockdown, many artists went back to basics and out came the trusty six-string. For iHeartRadio’s “Living Room Concert for America” in March, Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl played an acoustic Guild on “My Hero”; Billie Joe Armstrong from Green Day strummed to his band’s “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”; and even Eilish, with her collaborator brother Finneas, sang her hit “Bad Guy” accompanied by only a Fender acoustic. Other benefit livestreams like Global Citizen’s “One World Together At Home” event saw the Rolling Stones, Keith Urban and Shawn Mendes strip down their hit songs for unplugged versions. And in April, Miley Cyrus delivered an emotional cover of Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” on “Saturday Night Live” with Andrew Watt, himself a COVID survivor, on guitar.

At the same time, there was an electric guitar solo being heard on one of the most-played songs in the United States. Harry Styles’ “Adore You,” which has logged 1.1 million radio spins in 2020, according to Mediabase, and has been streamed more than 400 million times, per Alpha Data, features the playing of Kid Harpoon (real name: Tom Hull), Styles’ friend and producer, who handled the guitar parts for much of the Brit’s excellent “Fine Line” album, released in Dec. 2019. As it turns out, the melody of the solo, which also serves as the bridge to “Adore You,” was first hummed by Styles for Hull to emulate. “I did it with my mouth into a microphone,” Styles told Variety in October. “And then Tom sent me this video trying to get it to sound the same. He spent a couple of hours getting it.”

Why include a guitar solo when most pop songs would never dare? “I feel it’s kind of like ‘La La Land’ saving jazz — only for rock ‘n’ roll,” Styles cracked when posed with the question. But more seriously speaking, Variety‘s Hitmaker of the Year added: “I’m not a spearheader of the movement, like, ‘Let’s bring back guitars.’ There’s plenty of times when [a song] doesn’t sound better with a guitar, and you don’t use it. But a lot of the references I grew up with have guitars; and it’s the first instrument I played, so it makes sense that I would like the sound of them more. I don’t think the guitar is dying. Guitars are great and always have been.”

In fact, guitar sales in 2020 have been robust. Music retailer Sweetwater reports more than 50% year-over-year growth in guitar purchases, with even larger increases during the peak COVID months of April, May and June “when customers most likely hunkered down to practice and create music after watching all of the streaming video they could handle,” according to a rep for the Indiana-based company.

The spike extended to other string instruments as well, which saw growth of more than 70% year-over-year in the price range of $299 or lower. The metric indicates that “new players are joining the fold,” says Sweetwater, which has been in business for over four decades and operates online. (Competitor Guitar Center, with more than 250 physical locations in the U.S., did not fare as well, filing for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection last month.)

Even in the virtual world, learning to play an instrument has taken off during lockdown. The platform Yousician, which provides interactive learning for guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and voice, currently reigns as the No. 1 app for music instruction while its sister product, GuitarTuna, is tops for guitar tuning.

Ask current writers and producers working in pop and hip-hop about their process and you soon learn that an acoustic guitar is often the beginning or the essence of a hit song. Among Variety‘s 2020 Hitmakers, the trio of Taz Taylor, Charlie Handsome and KC Supreme credited a guitar loop as the foundation for Trevor Daniel’s “Falling.” For Maren Morris’ “The Bones,” producer Greg Kurstin noted: “The first thing I noticed was Jimmy Robbins’ guitar hook; I wanted to keep the song rooted in that.”

“So many hit songs from 2020 started with a acoustic or electric guitar, whether it be a melody line or simple progression,” says songwriter and producer Jenna Andrews, whose recent credits include BTS’ “Dynamite” and Benee’s “Supalonely.”

And often, those guitar-based foundations remained through the finished product — for instance, 24KGoldn’s “Mood,” with its impossibly catchy sun-kissed guitar riff, and Powfu’s “death bed (coffee for your head).”

“I know it sounds kinda old school, but I love it when a well-recorded acoustic pops off on the radio,” says Sam Hollander, whose hits include the aforementioned “High Hopes” and Fitz and the Tantrums’ “HandClap.” “The bulk of my songs tend to be born on guitar. Without that foundation, the lyrics and melodies never really emote the heartbeat and emotion that I’m trying to dial in. There’s just a general warmth to it that’s hard to replicate. It’s like the warmest chocolate chip cookie.”

“I think the prevalence of guitar in 2020 has a lot to do with hip-hop producers using more emo and punk-rock influences,” offers Angie Pagano, whose AMP management company represents Tommy Brown (Ariana Grande, Blackpink) and Mr. Franks, among others. “Juice Wrld really helped bring this into the mainstream over the last few years. We’re seeing a great blend of emo and trap these days.”

Indeed, the year’s most-consumed hits leaned hip-hop — Roddy Ricch’s “The Box” landed at No. 1 on the Hitmakers list with Future and Drake, Jack Harlow and Megan Thee Stallion in the Top 10 — but even DaBaby’s “Rockstar,” the No. 3 song of the year, referenced a guitar in its chorus, albeit alongside mention of a Glock pistol. That visual may go against what Hollander calls “the Kumbaya vibe of the guitar,” but the song still features an acoustic strum at its core.

In the case of Styles’ 2020 successes, which also include the ubiquitous “Watermelon Sugar,” his producer further explained that, while aware of what was reacting on the charts at the time they were recording, Styles wasn’t about to chase the trends. Said Tom Hull: “We [thought], we can’t play the commercial game in terms of what’s happening right now. What we can do is make music that really resonates with us. There’s no blueprint. You just have faith. We love records from the ’70s and ’80s; weird prog rock music that might be a seven-minute instrumental; then you’re listening to Shania Twain, like, ‘This is awesome, too.’ The goal was to make something we will always love, and if it completely flops commercially, at least we know we love it. We have that.”

#harry styles #jan21 #variety21

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omniswords · 3 years

Text

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 18

i'm sorry this is a few days late!! it's been real Headless Chicken time around here for a number of reasons, but, here you go!

this chapter is also known as, "LUKANETTE SHIPPERS COME GET Y'ALL JUICE: Part 1"

to: Marinette hey… um. hey. just. checking if you’re okay. those postcards came out beautiful.

from: Marinette shouldn’t i be asking you that?

to: Marinette i’ll live. i’m a Couffaine, “chaos” is practically my middle name. …so… how can i pay you? cash? one of those money apps?

from: Marinette just get better 😊 that’s all.

Getting better shouldn’t feel like such a tall order. But like with other affairs, Luka will just say it’s his fault and call it a night.

It only takes a few days for his knee to go from “bulging, throbbing mess” to “sort of tolerable,” and he doesn’t understand how the time is so annoying and yet so relieving. He has to call out of work because there’s no way they—or Juleka— will let him bike or even hobble around Paris with an injury like that. But it opens up his schedule for more band practice. And more chances to talk to Bubbles. Or, more accurately, convince Bubbles that he can still hold his own and shred the setlist to pieces.

And yeah, he tries his hand at perfecting Marinette’s song, but it barely comes out any better. Whatever melody is swirling in his head sounds wrong on paper, and even worse on guitar. Checking the posts of his drafts doesn’t help, either; the likes and comments and reposts have mostly come to a halt, no matter how many times he bumps the latest version to the top of his profile.

He thinks, for the most part, that it’s doomed to live in his head forever. And he hates it. Hates that it doesn’t sound right or good. Hates that he’ll never get to share what he really hears, what he really feels... with anyone.

The best he can manage is hopping on the metro, with his guitar and his amp and his busking license tied around the belt loop of his jeans, and finding just the right stone ledge or just the right bench at the bridge with the padlocks. Sometimes he doodles, strums out whatever comes to mind and hopes it resonates with someone. Some then he takes requests or plays fan favorites, the kind that earns him a smile or even an extra euro in his case.

He’s got to make the money somehow.

One time, he plays by the fountain at the Place des Vosges. For the parents who need something to tide them over while their children ask for balloons and skin their elbows and ride the carousel one too many times. He thinks about angles, and hearing colors, and pear tarts fresh from the oven, and business cards that look like flyers. He thinks about the color blue, too. Ocean blue. But he doesn’t play it. He’ll save it for a better occasion, when he’s not weighed down with cutting deals and combing through backstory that he’s not quite sure he’ll ever earn. When he’s not thinking about Marinette dropping a few coins in his case at the padlock bridge and almost looking guilty about it.

He shakes his head and gathers his paltry earnings for the day into the side pocket of his gig bag, stretches his leg to see if it’s worth putting weight on again. It doesn’t protest too much, thank God; at least he’ll be home before it gets too dark. But the sound of music stops him once he crosses the street. A radio. And it’s playing outside.

And it’s just over his head.

It takes him one moment to realize he’s stopped in front of Tom & Sabine’s, and another to look up. There is Marinette, watering some flowers in a box and resting her chin in her hand. Humming along to the music. when she meets his eyes, it sounds like her. Like exactly what he’s been looking for. Good, and right, and perfect.

And... sad.

The one thing Luka’s grateful for is that he wasn’t standing there long. Instead of fear or panic, he’s only caught up in mild surprise, and to his relief, so is Marinette. He readjusts his weight on his good leg, and he manages a wave with his free hand. “You know,” he says with a weak laugh, “we really gotta stop meeting like this.”

The smile Marinette gives him in return is just as sad as her humming, but harder to read. He doesn’t know if it’s telling her she agrees or disagrees, or if she doesn’t want him to go. Or if it’s something else entirely, something he’s not a part of. “Hey,” she says, leaning over the balcony to get a better look at him. Or maybe just at his leg.

He glances down at it, gives it a little shake, and shrugs in the face of the urge to wince. “It’ll be fine,” he says as nonchalantly as he can. “I’ll be back at work in a day or two. But, y’know... let me know if you’d rather I go busk somewhere else.”

Which, he’ll admit, is code for, let me know if you don’t want to see me anymore. He’s given her enough reasons for her to feel that way.

If Marinette’s somehow waded through to the real meaning of it, she doesn’t show it, and Luka doesn’t know if that’s a good thing. Instead, she leans over to pause her music, brushes her hair out of her eyes, and says, “Do you... wanna come upstairs?”

Well.

He wasn’t expecting that.

Luka can’t get any words out, so all he does is nod dumbly and limp toward the side door. On a better day, he might have been able to scale the bakery and hop over the balcony railing, if all his work on the Liberty is anything to go by. But maybe his guitar wouldn’t necessarily appreciate that. And neither would Mr. Dupain or Mrs. Cheng; he’d probably scare them half to death. Not to mention that maybe this is the sort of stunt reserved for Actually Cool People, and Luka is only ever Actually Cool in the recesses of his imagination or with a guitar in his hands.

Marinette meets him by the side door and lets him in with barely a sound. It doesn’t seem like she’s trying to sneak him in, the way she might have if they were in high school. If she might have even pulled off something like that in high school. But they slip into the apartment with Marinette’s whispered explanation that her father’s closing up shop and her mother’s getting ready for a dinner date. It reminds him, as they head to her room and she shows him how to hoist up onto the balcony, of all the dates his ma tried to go on. And how one day, she just stopped trying, and didn’t shed a tear over it.

Maybe, he thinks as he leaps up on the weight of one leg, he’s built for something like that. Or should be.

Marinette lets him take the deck chair so he can rest his leg, despite his weak insistence that he’s fine. She doesn’t go back to watering the flowers, or even leaning on the railing and giving the city that wistful look he thought was only reserved for Adrien Agreste. Instead, she sits cross-legged on the floor, and she watches him, never lingering on one part of him for too long. Like she’s expecting him to say something. Maybe it’s payback, in the end, for all the times she must have caught him.

“Hey,” he finally says to break through the quiet. “That song you were listening to... Can you play it again?”

She jolts to attention then, nods without a word, makes a grab for her phone. With a few taps, the song bleeds to life with a few piano notes, the rise of a few violins, the thrum of a cello. Luka thinks he’s heard this before, once. The words are all in English, so he doesn’t quite know what they’re saying. All he knows is the blue. It’s electric, it’s swelling in his chest, buzzing under his skin, closing his eyes. It sounds...

Like the ocean.

Like a world Marinette’s pulling him into. Her world. And he’s stepping into it. Just for a while. Or like, perhaps, just for that while, they’re meeting in the middle.

She must know what the song is about. She can wade through the colors and the sound, right to the words, as she sings to herself in accented English, as her voice dips low but not quite low enough, as her breath snags on the notes it can’t hold for very long. Maybe that’s why she seems so sad. Or maybe it’s something else.

“That song sounds like your eyes,” he says once the violins fade. It sounds like what I’ve been looking for.

Marinette looks at him like he’s lost his mind, and maybe he has. But there’s a softness to it. Like maybe no one’s ever said anything like that to her before. Like, secretly, she’d spent years wishing someone would. “What?”

“Oh, uh. It’s...” He can’t tell if it’s the music, or the evening sky, or Marinette that’s making it hard to snap back to himself. Maybe it’s all three. “It’s... that sound-color thing I told you about—”

“No, I—I figured.” Marinette fumbles as she turns down the volume. He hardly thought her the type, but she does it like it’s something she’s done for ages. Like she’s tapping into someone she used to be. “You... think about my eyes?”

Luka can feel his face burning, his stomach lurching. He’s overthinking, he knows it, but somehow it doesn’t feel wrong for him to say, “I’ve been trying to get them right for a long time.”

She gives him a confused look at first, but understanding cracks across her face once he unzips his gig bag, sets up the amp, and sets his guitar in his lap.

“Can you play it again?” he asks. It’s quiet, and unsure, but there’s a tinge of hope to it. “I want to get it right.”

Marinette’s eyes go wide, and her cheeks turn pink under the delicate string lights. It seems like she holds onto her breath for longer than she means to, but she nods, and she does that fumbling thing again as she reaches for her phone. Once those first piano notes trickle out, she looks to him expectantly. That’s all it takes for his fingers to find the strings. For his heart to find that ocean blue. He doesn’t quite copy the melody note for note; instead, he finds the little pockets where his music fits, and he makes it sound a little fuller. A little more like her.

Maybe it’s not perfect. But it’s good enough.

Somewhere along the way, Luka closed his eyes, and when he opens them again, he finds Marinette sitting closer—just across from him, in fact. She’s huddled up with her chin on her knees, all but marveling at him in silence. When she finally speaks, it’s after she’s paused the next song, and it’s only to breathe, “Wow.”

Luka’s not feeling particularly flirtatious; actually, the most he does is laugh sheepishly and rub the back of his neck. “I’m not so good with words,” he says. “But music gets me pretty close to what I want to say. So… maybe I was wrong about not having an angle. Maybe my thing is playing people.”

Marinette snaps out of it long enough to laugh, all breath, and say, “Where I’ve been, that sounds an awful lot like you’re a con man.”

“I’m not a con man, I mean... what people sound like. Their hearts, or... the parts of them that are most beautiful. That sound like that”— he gestures toward the speaker, and then up to the sky—”or remind us that... whatever we’re made of, it came from up there. Somewhere. That’s what I wanna think about, when I play…”

He catches himself and goes silent, but Marinette’s already giving him a meaningful look, teeth sinking into her lip. Somewhere along the line, her face went right to scarlet.

“Me,” she says. “That’s what you were playing in the park. Me.”

Luka doesn’t know how much of him has been discovered, but he keeps quiet all the same. He won’t give any more of himself away. It’s only as he’s about to apologize—for what, he’s not entirely sure—that Marinette cuts him off.

“Look, I… I need to tell you about something.”

He grips his guitar more tightly, because his phone is too far out of reach, and all the alarm bells go off.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #I SAID COME GET Y'ALL JUICE AND I ***MEANT IT***

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pollylynn · 3 years

Text

Title: From the Top WC: 1000 Episode: Vampire Weekend (2 x 06)

She’s not sure who hit the reset button on him, but that seems to be what’s going on here. He shows up to her crime scene in his Hallowe’en costume—or one of the likely candidates for his Hallowe’en costume, because apparently him choosing one is quite the production—and he’s talking an absolute mile a minute.

He’s spinning freestyle stories based on tombstone engravings, and unabashedly dropping references to the Underworld movies by way of first-draft theories on who might have chosen such a bizarre means of murder. All in all, despite his beloved, October-denoting crunchy leaves and crisp air, he’s partying like it’s March, they’ve just met, and he is, once again, taking the most circuitous route to suicide-by-cop in human history.

And he does not confine his shenanigans to the graveyard. He’s amped up enough to make a run at Lanie, yodeling all the while, to stop her before she pulls the stake from their vic’s chest and he rises from the dead. Sugar rush seems to be an inadequate explanation for whatever’s fueling him.

She keeps coming back to the idea of the reset button as he, without irony, brags that he knows the best Fang Master in the city. It’s one more lead than anything else about the body, the scene, or the murder weapon has yielded, though, so she’s stuck with it. And she’s stuck with him on the way to the Phantasmagorium, giving her the run-down on the lesser Fang Masters and the various ways in which they fail to measure up to Doctor Barry.

And it’s not as if things improve once they’re there and he’s into PVC slutty nurse costumes and up-and-down glances as he wonders if she wants to get anything pierced. That actually snags her attention by the lapels. There’s something a little bit off about his innuendo game. That is not at all March-caliber work, and she realizes that he can’t quite pull off the lechery when he’s metaphorically—and occasionally literally—bouncing on his toes with this weird energy he has going on.

That vibe runs through his take on the whole vampire fetish thing. He is and has been very much in Good Morning, Teacher, I Stayed Up All Night and Did the Extra Credit Homework mode on that front. He took in the information about bite marks on Crow’s thigh without so much as an eyebrow waggle, and once they make their way into Vixen’s coven, he shakes off various young, nubile goths without a second glance, all the while acting like her protocol advisor on kinky blood play matters, rather than suggesting that they find the nearest vacant coffin and see what the two of them get going on.

It’s all quite strange—a reset that isn’t a complete reset. A resurgence of annoying puppy energy, but without really selling the idea, so dear to his image back in March, that he was mostly sticking around until he could tick a one-night-stand with her off his list. Instead, it’s blurted observations about what she smells like, and an offer to stick around while she notifies Crow’s family.

Whatever it his that’s happening with this Version 1.5 of him, she finds herself responding to it in unpredictable ways. She very pointedly slips her deep knowledge of comics into conversation, but when he gleefully admits that he had no idea she was into that, she jabs him a little about all the things he doesn’t know about her.

Most curiously, maybe, she seizes a sudden opening to ask him a sincere question about why he does what he does. It surprises her as much as him, the first time she asks, at least. She can’t imagine why she’s never asked him before, and she thinks—sincerely thinks—that he’d have answered her honestly that first time, if only Ryan and Esposito hadn’t rolled up at that exact moment. But there’s no universe in which Ryan and Esposito don’t roll up at that exact moment.

His shields go up after that—about that issue, at least. He’s still running on manic little boy energy. She’s still not quite sure what to do with it, and he ends up being a jerk. When she’s legitimately asking him a serious question, he just can’t seem to resist. It’s unfortunate.

It provokes another strange response in her. It sends her to the party, dressed as Nikki Heat. He sees her and his eyes light up. He sees her and his face falls. He doesn’t understand the costume, and if she didn’t need to—in the name of justice—scare the bejeezus out of him. She and her Nikki Heat bustier–trench coat ensemble would march right back out of there.

But she does need to scare the bejeezus out of him, and it only seems polite to stay once she’s accomplished her mission. So she stays. She mingles. She mostly steers clear of him, watching with curiosity his swanky party host persona with its underlying thrum of odd energy.

Martha sidles up beside her. It’s a little embarrassing that she’s able to sidle up, unnoticed, given the size of her Cruella hat.

“It’s wonderful to see, isn’t it?” She gestures to Castle with her stuffed Dalmatian puppy. “That verve!”

“Verve,” she echoes. She pivots to Martha. She makes a snap decision. “Is something . . . up with him?” she asks timidly. “With Castle?”

“Up?” Martha laughs. “Yes, that’s exactly it, darling. New book out. New book started. New lease on life at the precinct.” Her eyes follow him as he flits from guest to guest. “I’d say everything is up with Richard.”

New lease. The phrase resonates. It brings the last few days of him, the last few days of her into focus. It is a reset. There’ll be a new book. There’ll be three new books. He’s not going anywhere. She’s not going anywhere. It’s an opportunity. It’s a new lease.

A/N: Cannot even with the amorphousness here. Struggling

images via homeofthenutty

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 2 #Castle: Vampire Weekend #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Martha Rodgers #Lanie Parish #Javier Esposito #Kevin Ryan #Fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Tell Me More

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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

Text

only the black rose (chapter 3)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: vague sexual references, two mentions of keith richards and a whole lot of fluff. also poetry about jimmy page because i’m a simp.

words: 3.4k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: not beta’d as always! this story does follow a playlist of mine, because i put too much thought into things. also this chapter is full of jimmy moments (finally) so i hope you enjoy :)

masterlist

playlist

chapter one

chapter two

----------

“He’s coming!”

Hushed whispers echo through the studio as amps become hiding spots, and instruments camouflage the people crouched behind them, anxiously waiting. Layla finds herself kneeling next to Bonzo and Jonesy, Robert a few feet away, giggling silently at the anticipation.

Feeling for the leather handle of the prize slung over her shoulder, Layla smiles wide, excitement dancing in her eyes like a perfect waltz. Hearing soft footfalls on the tiled floor drawing near, a charged silence falls over the studio. Sun-kissed curls poke out from behind the amps to spot the intruder. With a subtle nod to hidden companions, chaos erupts.

“Surprise!” A chorus of voices yell in near unison, startling the intruder, who puts a hand to his racing heart.

“Happy birthday, Pagey.” Robert trots up to his friend, grinning impishly at the stunt he had pulled. Jonesy and Bonzo follow suit, hugging the guitarist, while Peter lumbers out of his hiding spot, knees groaning from his crouched position. A pat on the shoulder and smile gracing his face, Peter wishes the man a happy birthday as well. Minutes pass, packed with greetings and formal well-wishes, until misty green meets warm brown once again.

“Happy birthday, Jimmy.” Layla starts towards the man, pulling him into a familiar hug, his unruly curls brushing her cheek like the soft caress of a lover. The hands that wrap around her back finally feel the handle of the weathered guitar case, and he pulls away, confusion creasing his handsome face.

“Layla, is that a guitar? I didn’t know you played...”

“This isn’t for me… It’s, uh… It’s your birthday present.”

“You…”

“Well don’t just stand there gaping at her, Pagey! Open it for God’s sake! She picked it out herself!”

Hands quivering almost imperceptibly, long fingers reach for the clasps of the case, snapping them open with a click. A soft gasp permeates the tense silence as the lid is opened, revealing the beautiful instrument. Lifting it out of the case delicately, Jimmy’s face fills with awe, eyes shining, clear ponds of morning dew. Running a hand down the neck of the guitar lightly, Jimmy looks back at Layla, then at the instrument once more, mouth opening and closing like a floundering fish.

“Layla… It’s… Thank you so much.”

“Of course, Jimmy,” Layla whispers almost shyly at the gratitude of the man before her, “I hope you like it. I saw it and thought it was perfect for you, but obviously you don’t have to use it if it’s—”

She is cut off by the sensation of long arms around her once more, cradling her as though she was a precious gift. She is once again surrounded by the dusky sweet scent of smoke, pine and citrus. Ebony ringlets tickle against her cheek once more, and she is home.

“You know,” Jimmy starts, voice a calming rumble against Layla’s cheek, which is pressed to the tall man’s chest, “I may not be great with words. That’s why everyone else writes the lyrics. But believe me, petal, I’ll never forget this.”

“Petal… That’s a new one, Jim.”

Layla and Jimmy jump apart then, laughing shyly at the intrusion. Hands wringing together, desperately searching for a distraction, their eyes meet once more. Twin blushes rise on their faces, and they turn to face their friends.

“Well, I do believe it’s time for the cake!” Peter claps his hands together, signalling the end of the awkward moment that had transpired, “Boys, let’s go get everything ready. Except for you, Pagey. You’re the birthday boy, we’re not gonna let you lift a finger to help today.”

“But—”

The only response is the patter of footsteps against the floor, signalling their exit. Layla chances a look at the man next to her, and finds him looking back once again. Mulling it over in her head, she decides to ask the question she’s been contemplating since the beautiful guitar was uncovered.

“Jimmy, you said you weren’t great with words,” Layla breathes out, hand rubbing at the back of her neck, eyes downcast, “Would you be able to play something for me? You obviously don't have to, but—”

“Layla, I’d love to. I need to try this beauty out anyways, might as well do it while you’re here to witness it.”

A smirk sits familiar on his stubble-dusted cheeks, dimples just visible. It’s obvious he was joking, but the thought of him playing something solely for her, on the guitar that she gifted him, was a lot for the young woman.

“Do you have any requests, petal?”

“Not really, but I’m sure anything you play will sound amazing.”

“Oh, you flatter me too much,” A hand moves to the crown of his head, graceful fingers scratching nervously, a betrayal of the man’s attempt at nonchalance. Jimmy stops then, cogs almost visibly turning in his brilliant mind. “… This will have to do.”

He sends a smile to his companion, and launches in, a flurry of beautiful chords resonating from it’s polished wooden body. Layla is in awe, watching his deft fingers slide across the fretboard with practiced ease, never missing a note. It’s when he starts singing, quietly, under his breath, that Layla’s eyes shoot up to his. Jimmy’s eyes are closed in pure concentration, a small smile dancing playfully on his lips. She can barely make out the words that float from his mouth, until he hits the chorus.

“God only knows what I’d be without you…”

He opens his eyes then, a smile growing at the open-mouthed expression of the woman next to him. He hums the rest of the song quietly, smirk never leaving his face until the very last note. Taking a deep breath, he turns to the woman, ducking his head slightly, the confidence leaving as though it had never been there at all.

“So… What did you think?”

“Here’s what I thought, Jim,” Layla says, a mischievous smirk of her own present on her face, as she stands looming over the guitarist. Soft lips meet the apple of a stubbled cheek, a sharp inhale of air punctuating the complete silence of the studio. Layla moves back, taking in the shocked expression on the angelic face of her companion, “Now, I think it’s time for a birthday celebration, so I’ll meet you in there, birthday boy.”

Layla, walking to the door, chances a look back at the guitarist and find him in the same position, staring off into space dazedly, a hand pressed to his cheek. Layla laughs lightly under her breath, and leaves the room. She finally meets up with Peter and the boys, who take one look at the smile that hasn’t left her face, and snicker amongst themselves.

“So, Layla, what were you and Jimmy talking about? Anything important that we should know, birdie?”

“Nothing at all, Bonzo. I do appreciate the concern, really, but don’t you worry your million dollar heads over it.”

“You know, that smirk isn't very reassuring, little dove. How do we know you didn’t break him somehow? I told you that outfit was gonna be a lot for him.”

“Well, I’m glad that someone had the balls to do something about the tension between you two, but I didn't think it’d be you, Layla.”

“And why not, Jonesy?”

Jonesy’s reply is cut short by the clacking of shoes on the floor, approaching the group. They look over, and Jimmy, seemingly recovered from the shock of lips meeting skin, walks into the room with a large smile creasing his pristine features. Taking hold of the glass of champagne Peter passes him, Jimmy tips it back.

“Tough night, Pagey?” Peter jokes, sipping from the glass in his hand, smiling as wide as ever.

“Not at all, Peter. Actually, my night got even better,” He sends a subtle glance over to Layla, confidence back in place, “Let’s get this party started.”

----------

What feels like daggers appear to be piercing her head as Layla awakes, mouth feeling like a barren desert. She turns over and is assaulted by the bright morning light, and shields her eyes from the onslaught. Finally adjusted to the sunlight streaming through the open windows. Layla takes in her surroundings, confusion evident on her drowsy face until she remembers the events of the night before. Jimmy’s birthday at the studio. The impromptu performance, the first sip of Jack Daniels burning its way down her throat like a kerosine blaze. Then it goes hazy, flashes of booming music and drunken dancing pound invisible fists against the inside of her head.

Layla, arm resting over her eyes to block out the world for just a little longer, misses the light click of the door opening, and startles when cold, callused fingertips press like droplets of rain to her sleep-warmed cheek. She looks at the offender, and sees wispy dark hair framing a porcelain face. Kaleidoscope eyes gaze into hers, a content smile resting on rose pink lips.

“Good morning, petal.”

“‘Morning, Jim.” Layla yawns, subtly pressing into the hand that now cupped her cheek.

“Are you feeling any better? Didn’t think a spitfire like you would be such a lightweight.”

“I’m gonna choose to ignore that comment,” Layla grumbles, wincing at the light chuckle Jimmy lets out. “I’m feeling a little better, thanks.”

“I’m glad. There’s some coffee waiting for you in the studio if you’re up for it. I’ll, uh... let you get dressed.”

Layla immediately becomes aware of the friction of the soft blanket against bare skin. The woman was left in her undergarments, thankfully, but the clothing she had been wearing from the night before was nowhere to be seen. Layla gasps, grasping at the retreating hand, the guitarist turning around to acknowledge her, cheeks blushing scarlet as he glimpses her exposed shoulder.

“Jim… Did we…?”

“What?”

“...”

“Oh. Oh, no. Last night, you indulged a little too much in our selection of drinks and, well… spilled about a litre all over your clothes,” Jimmy says, smirking at the woman in front of him. “I took you up here, and got the clothes into the wash. Don’t worry though, I turned around. There’s a change of clothes on the end of the couch.”

Layla laughs, squeezing the thin hand clasped in hers in thanks.

“Besides, petal, you deserve more than a drunken birthday fling. I’d kick myself if I didn't do this right.”

At this, the guitarist turns around, and walks out the door. Layla’s eyes bore into his retreating back, mouth hanging open at his admission and quick retreat. Standing finally, her eyes find the change of clothes on the end of the couch, just like Jimmy had said. A pair of black slacks, and a familiar silk shirt, a deep maroon in colour. Slipping them on and tying her hair into a low bun, she slips out of the room. The decadent smell of coffee tickles her nose as she walks on to the studio, and, nearing the door, she is met with the ever-present sound of laughter.

“Ah, look who finally decided to grace us with her very presence. I’m so honoured.”

“I’m just here cause I was promised coffee, Jonesy.”

“Cold, little dove. I thought we had something special here.” Fake tears are wiped from sun kissed cheeks, Bonzo and Jonesy hiding their smirks beneath their hands. Jimmy, who had been tasked with the making of the coveted coffee, looks over at the woman, chuckling softly.

“Well, blondie, if we had something special you’d have known that I need coffee in the morning to function,” she takes the steaming mug that the guitarist hands over, and takes a sip, a dreamy look on her face, “Jimmy is automatically the best out of all of you. He can make a great cup of coffee, and that’s enough for me.”

“Sure, that’s why he’s your favourite…”

“What was that, Bonzo?”

“...”

“Exactly what I thought.”

“Note to self: don’t talk to Layla before morning coffee. Got it.”

“Finally, you’re learning!”

The sound of footsteps approaching punctuates the end of the conversation, and Peter Grant rounds the corner, smiling ear to ear. Spotting Layla in the mix of his boys, Peter sends her an amicable wink, which earns him a grin in return.

“Good, you’re all here. Layla, are you all packed, dear?”

“Yep, all packed.”

“Wonderful. Our plane is due in just a few hours, so we’ll stop by your flat on the way. Next stop: Netherlands.”

Cheers sound from around the studio as the excitement for the upcoming tour ramps up. Peter silences the group, laughing, a tell-tale smirk settled on his lips.

“I must say… I think you’ll all find the ride there quite enjoyable. Even you, Pagey.”

----------

“A private jet?!”

“Her name is the Starship, but we’re accepting suggestions if you have a better idea.”

“Peter… This is…”

“Didn’t think it was possible to make the birdie speechless, I only know one person who can,” Bonzo meets Jimmy’s eyes then, a blush rising on the latter’s pale face. “Good job, Grant.”

“How did you even afford something like this?”

“My dear, I did mention that this was a very famous band, did I not?”

“Well, yeah, but… I was expecting like… The Black Keys level of popularity, not like, One Direction.”

“... Who?”

Layla catches Jonesy’s gaze, and when the man shakes his head minutely, eyes wide, she knows she messed up. Shit.

“Uh… Exactly! You guys are good, sure, but I thought you guys would be like… more underground, or something.”

Good save.

“Little dove, we’re like… one of the most popular bands in the world at the moment. You know, you really did pick a good day to almost get a concussion. Who knew that our Mr. Grant would be there?”

“Oh god… Boys… what if she had been snatched up by The Rolling Stones instead?”

“I have heard that Keith Richards has been getting all the women lately…” Jimmy says, hand moving to rub at his arm in mock anxiety, callused fingers catching ever-so-slightly on the lush green silk of his shirt. The mischief written all over his face exposed the ruse.

“Okay,” Layla starts, a smirk growing on her face in anticipation, “As much as I actively avoid saying it… you guys are pretty great. I’m glad I met all of you, and I won’t leave you for the Rolling Stones. How was that?”

“Acceptable.”

“Very sorry to interrupt this lovely moment, but the Starship awaits.” Peter says, smiling sheepishly at his intrusion, hand raised to show the majesty of the plane before them.

Piling into the aircraft, Layla is met with sleek silver and dark upholstery, yet another inkling as to how famous the boys really were. Strolling through the aircraft, Layla is stunned by the presence of a fully stocked bar, expensive spirits gleaming in the waning morning light. Walking to the comfortable sitting area, she gapes at the beautiful fireplace to her left.

“Is that safe?” she mutters under her breath, eyes wide as saucers, amazed at the level of luxury. This jet is more expensive than anything she’s ever seen, and she gets to experience it with her boys. As much as she’d like to return home, to her own time, this is a pretty great experience.

A sudden tap on the shoulder of the woman in question snaps her out of her thoughts, and, finally raising her eyes to spot the offender, she is greeted by the handsome face of Jimmy Page staring right back at her.

“Hey, petal. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Well…,” Layla jokes, giggling when she spots the hesitant look on the man’s face. “I’m just kidding, Jim. Of course, take a seat!”

Plopping down onto the couch beside her, the guitarist turns his body to face Layla, his full attention on the young woman beside him. Knee to knee with him, Layla can just barely smell the expensive cologne the man wears, mingling with the scent she now associates with the man: light accents of pine and citrus infused with warm, heady tobacco. Layla looks up at Jimmy then, and is struck by his beauty. His ebony ringlets fall to his shoulder, and, backlit by the afternoon sun streaming through the open plane windows, gives the impression of holiness. A sprinkling of subtle freckles look like stars falling across his cherubic face, and his eyelashes frame his perpetually tired eyes like a precious work of art. His eyes, a deep vivid emerald that she could get lost in forever, search the woman’s face, and it is when she looks down to study his angelic lips that she sees he is trying to speak to her.

“Earth to Layla,” Jimmy says, smiling shyly once he realizes that Layla was staring. He’s not as used to this silent reverence as he had expected. “Hello, is anybody in there?”

Shaking herself out of her reverie with a nod of her head, chestnut curls bouncing with the movement.

“Sorry, got a bit…. distracted… What were you saying, Jimmy?”

“I could tell, petal,” Jimmy scoffs, not unkindly, and Layla can see a pink tinge rising on his cheeks. “I was just wondering how you were doing. I mean, with everything that’s happened, of course.”

“You’re sweet, Jim. I’m… doing much better than I had expected,” Layla says, eyes softening as they roam over the worried face of the man next to her. “I woke up after the accident and thought I was done for, and then I met Peter, and… you, and the boys, and you were all so incredibly kind to me. I’m still trying to find a way to repay you guys.”

Her eyes stray from his face, then, to meet her shoes, preparing herself for what she is about to express.

“I know I can be too sarcastic, and I hold my cards too close to my chest, but I really do appreciate all of you. Even if I don’t always say it.”

Layla lays her hand on his then, looking into his eyes earnestly. Placing his own hand on top of hers, warmth seeping from one to the other, he shakes his head vehemently.

“Petal, you’re not some kind of burden that was left outside our door. I’m… We are glad we found you when we did. You’re not going to get rid of us that easily, Layla.”

“Damn, that was my goal.”

“I knew it. There’s another talented, devilishly handsome band you’re affiliated with, isn't there?”

“Jimmy, how do I say this… I’m so sorry. It was Keith Richards. I was lying to you guys earlier.”

“Just as long as it wasn’t Jeff Beck, or I’d have to have a talk with him.”

Smirks grow slowly on their faces, and they let out twin giggles, unconsciously drifting closer to one another. Their laughter soon fades, and they are left enraptured with each other once again, eyes never straying from their gaze on the other. Finally, Jimmy breaks the eye contact between them with a forced cough, and the pair turn away, hands still clasped absentmindedly.

Layla chances a look at the guitarist, who is apparently set on never looking at her again. Noticing how their hands are still interlocked, she gives his a light squeeze, and he looks over once more.

“Jimmy, I just… I really do want to thank you. For checking up on me, and for making me laugh, and just… Thank you.”

“Layla, it’s my pleasure,” Jimmy says, reaching a faintly shaking hand to push back a stray curl that had fallen in the woman’s face. “I care about you, and I want you to be happy. If I can make that happen for you, then I’m going to do it.”

Speechless, Layla can only squeeze his hand once more. Finally noticing the slight tremors that run through it, she looks up at Jimmy, whose jaw is clenched tightly, tension clear on his face.

“Jim, are you alright? Your hands are shaking…”

“Oh, I’m fine, petal. I just get a bit nervous on planes is all. It’ll pass.”

An idea comes to Layla then, and she stretches out her legs, shifting forward once more.

“Put your head in my lap and sleep through it, so you won’t be a bundle of nerves the whole time.”

“Layla, it really is fine—”

“Jimmy, just do it. You’ll never relax otherwise.”

“...Fine.”

Jimmy’s head comfortably placed on her lap, Layla threads her fingers through the tastefully messy curls, and, minutes later, Jimmy is out like a light. Satisfied, she leans back, hand still buried deep in the raven locks, and dozes off as well. The pair sleep on, oblivious to the snickering of the rest of the band, and the shutter click of Robert’s camera.

----------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 (let me know if you want to be added!)

#led zeppelin #led zeppelin fanfic #jimmy page #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #classic rock fanfic #only the black rose

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maine-writes · 3 years

Text

Vonvon's Space Adventure, Part 2

"When we heard that you needed to be sat upon, we were all so excited to offer our services." said White Diamond as she sat at her extremely large command seat.

Vonvon looked around at all the gems diligently working at their posts, operating the strange space vessel. A large screen on the front wall revealed the vast void of space, the silvery light of passing stars streaking through it like lines of bright paint. They were hoping that the Diamonds knew that they weren't supposed to literally sit on them, but was also hoping that they'd never have to explain why a certain weird Mayor of Beach City would leap at the opportunity to be "sat upon".

It wasn't long before they arrived on Homeworld, one of the perks of developing faster-than-light travel. The child marveled at the sight on the viewscreen; a glowing, alien world with two rings of satellites and crystalline fragments. Patches of green, pink, yellow, blue, and white illuminated the world. In Vonvon's eyes, the world seemed alive.

When they landed on a hovering, crystalline platform, Vonvon and White Diamond were greeted by the sight of a group of waving Quartz soldiers.

"Beginning with Era 3," White Diamond began, "All Gems were free to pursue whatever lives they desired, and we Diamonds nurtured and encouraged a sense of curiosity and self-worth in all Gems. Some chose to explore the greater universe, others were curious about the world called Earth, whilst others chose to remain on Homeworld to help it heal and grow."

As the pair approached the happy Quartz guards, Vonvon could hear a faint, but growing, yell in the distance. Zipping through the crowd, Spinel appeared.

"Vonvon!" cried the excited pink Gem as she wrapped her rubber hose arms around the small child. "It's been so long! How've you been? How's Steven? La gasp! How's Connie and Steven, about time they get some alone time together, huh?"

It was nice to see Spinel again.

"Now, now Spinel." White Diamond intervened, plucking the small Gem and seperating her from the suffocating child. "You will get your chance to catch up with Vonvon. But we must bring them to Blue and Yellow, after all, they worked so hard to make their stay as comfortable as possible."

"Right, right, right." Spinel yapped. "I'll bring them to them!"

"I'll make sure their chambers are prepared." said the Diamond.

"Will that be the nice chamber or the bad chamber?" Spinel asked.

"The newly refurbished chamber."

"Oh right, the old bad chamber. It's so nice."

Spinel led Vonvon down a yellow, crystalline road that floated over a sea of strange trees. Ahead of them was a large, yellow pyramid.

"What's with the trees?" inquired the child.

"Ever since things have started changing around here, the Gems here have been trying to fix the world." Spinel explained, "The Diamonds thought Homeworld was dead, but with the help of our favorite Peridot, we found that it was just sleeping."

"Does anything live down there?"

Spinel then grimly grabbed ahold of Vonvon's shoulders, peering into their soul with bloodshot eyes.

"Dark things lurk in among the trees, Vonnie." whispered the Gem. "It comes at night, stealing away unsuspecting Gems, leaving only dust and shards."

"Really?"

"Pfft! No!" Spinel laughed. "Kid, nothing can live down there. But we're looking into introducing wildlife from old colonies. There was one world your parents went to before you were born that we're looking at."

As they approached the giant pyramid, the outline of doors seemed to manifest in the outer wall, sliding apart to allow them inside.

"So this is where Yellow Diamond lives?" Vonvon wondered aloud.

"It's one of her estates." said Spinel. "She has a ton of them, but this was her old military command center. She's thinking of turning it into a bed-and-breakfast."

"I thought Gems don't eat." Vonvon noted.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Spinel asked.

"Nevermind."

Maybe it was best not to explain. Not yet.

The crystalline halls were frequented by a variety of Gems, each running a different errand. Vonvon noticed that most were carrying bags and picnic baskets, a strange sight on a world of sentient rocks that do not eat.

"Hey, XJ9!" Spinel called out to a passing Jasper. "Can ya tell Yellow we're here?"

The muscular soldier gave her a thumbs up before running through a crowd of exasperated Gems.

"What's up with everyone?" Vonvon asked.

"Oh, they're getting lunch ready."

"Lunch?"

Inside a former colony planning room, Yellow Diamond and an army of Gems frantically worked to prepare Vonvon's afternoon lunch and that evening's dinner. On the menu, for lunch, they had planned a simple chicken salad sandwich. However, they had no idea what a chicken, a salad, or a sandwich was.

"My Diamond!" Yellow Pearl cried, "It's the chickens!"

"I thought I sent a contingent of soldiers to capture them!" Yellow Diamond boomed, brushing the flour off her cheek.

"That's just it." The ever loyal Pearl continued to explain. "When we contacted them for an update, all we received as screaming and clucking."

Yellow Diamond sat in what was once the command seat, lowering her contemplative face behind her hands.

"So, it's war then."

Every Gem in the room stopped to turn to their Diamond, some even dropping whatever was in their hands.

"B-But my Diamond." Yellow Pearl began.

"No." Said the Diamond. "I know we promised to denounce our old ways with the beginning of Era 3. But this is for Steven's child. We. Will. Not. Fail."

"Yes, my Diamond." Yellow Pearl said, bowing with the old Diamond salute. The other Gems in the room followed suit.

"Looks like they have everything under control here." Spinel said. The pair were standing in the doorway, watching the militaristic scene of valor and dedication unfolding before them.

Then Yellow Diamond noticed them.

"Oh, hello Vonvon!" she said, waving over to them. "Lunch will be ready shortly."

She then turned her attention back to the matter at hand, ordering her Gems to prepare for war within her own pyramid. As if clockwork, the dozens of Gems split up into ordered groups, armed with whatever kitchen equipment they could get their hands on.

"Let's go check up on Blue." Spinel recommended.

They were now walking upon a blue road leading to a very blue pyramid. Vonvon thought about how easy it must be to get around, since everything was conveniently color coded.

"Blue Diamond's been researching human entertainment." explained the pink Gem. "That way, you won't be bored. I volunteered, but Blue thought it would be best that you enjoy some variety."

But as they approached the pyramid, a wave of blue color emanated from inside. When it flooded over Spinel, tears began to well up in her eyes.

"Ah, she's still at it." said the Gem, apparently unfazed by the sudden bout of crying.

"At what?"

Inside the pyramid, all was dark, save for the massive, flickering viewscreen on the upper part of a far wall. Dozens of Gems were watching the screen diligently, Blue Diamond included. On this screen was a scene from the somewhat recently released film, The Revengers 4: Finale.

The specific scene was near the end, with the death of the Armored Avenger, who sacrificed himself to save the world from the terrible Hades, the Inevitable God.

"You can rest now." Blue Diamond whispered, tears running down her face.

Vonvon noticed every Gem in the room was crying. They didn't know if this was because of Blue Diamond or not. Granted, they haven't met anyone yet who couldn't help but cry during this scene. Interestingly, their parents often argued about this scene. Connie found that the director missed the perfect opportunity to integrate a classic song about the Armored Avenger, whilst Steven thought that it would somehow ruin the mood.

Vonvon, on the other hand, had no opinion on the matter. They just found the scene moving.

"Oh, Vonvon." Blue Diamond sniffled, finally noticing the small human. "I think you'll find the entertainment we have planned most enjoyable. I certainly did."

"She's been working hard." Spinel whispered to Vonvon. "Watching cartoons and movies, listening to music, the whole deal."

"You've been listening to music?" Vonvon asked, curious as to what Blue had been listening to.

"And learning how to play instruments." The Diamond added.

"My Diamond is quite talented." Said the very quiet Blue Pearl, who suddenly appeared beside Vonvon.

"What do you play?"

The next she heard was the screeching, echoing sound of feedback as Blue Diamond plugged a gigantic electric guitar to an equally as gigantic amp, connected to a wall of massive loudspeakers.

"Oh boy." Vonvon muttered.

The shockwave that followed seemed to disrupt the very air, it shook the crystalline walls of the pyramid, and resonated through the core of Homeworld itself. It lifted Vonvon and Spinel off their feet, throwing them back against the wall. Luckily, Spinel cushioned the child, but it wasn't by choice. But through the cacophony, Vonvon noticed the notes coalescing into a familiar tune.

"Wait, this is Comet, by Mr. Universe!"

@artsycooky13

#Vonvon's Space Adventure #steven universe #steven universe au #vonvon #fanfic #Part 3 will be White Diamond's addition to Vonvon's stay #which is the strangest of them all

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star3yed · 3 years

Link

Happy Holidays @lanelin! I am you gifter for the @mlsecretsanta! I apologize for such the late work but I really hope you enjoy and had a great holiday season!

Thanks to my editor Tia @tombombadilcankickyourass for editing my random ramblings into cohesive sentences!

NSFW between the asterisks! The story ends within the asterisk for those who want to read it, if not I added a small SFW ending.

I made a small playlist that include the songs in this story, check it out :https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40za0n7AHlybZlNWvKde9P?si=sOe7Q5M8QCWXKIN6t0Mw8A

Summary: A band AU where Marinette and her band decide to come back from retirement to surprise Luka at a music festival!

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Relationship: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

Marinette ran in the alleyway leading to the back entrance of the venue, holding her coat tightly around her, her heels clicking against the damp ground. “Girl Hurry!” She heard Alya yell at her from the backstage door. She held herself upright as she stumbled on an empty can of beer. She made it to the entrance, panting a bit as her best friend chuckled. “Well, it isn’t a concert if you aren’t late, is it?” She joked as Marinette looked up to mock-glare at her. “Forgetting something?” She felt Alya press something in her hand and she looked down, seeing a mask, a new mask she had never worn but had spent hours slaving over, a staple of their band. Smiling, she accepted it and put it over her face. “Now c’mon, they’re almost done setting up.”

“Is he in position?” Marinette asked as she held onto her coat tighter, warming up inside the venue.

“Allegra told me she finally dragged his ass to the floor. He wanted to go back home to you.” Marinette blushed, not surprised her boyfriend wanted to go back to her, yet still flattered. “I guess I acted sick a little too well.” She handed her coat to one of the stagehands and reached the rest of the group. Her bandmates had already put on their masks, a reflection of their onstage personas. Juleka, Ivan, and Adrien huddled together with Rose as someone yelled that it was almost time for them to perform. Marinette had missed this, the backstage mess of people running around making sure things would run smoothly, other bands networking as they waited for their opportunity to perform, the heavy smell of musk, and the excitement of the crowd ahead. She spotted a familiar blue splattered black guitar, with an intricate snake design around the head. Smiling, she turned to her group.

“First off, thank you guys so much for willing to do this for me, taking time out of your busy schedules and learning to play a different genre …” Rose grinned and held Marinette’s hand, as Juleka spoke up.

“We know you would have done this and so much more for us, so don’t mention it!” The rest of the group agreed unanimously and energetically, making the raven-haired girl flush.

“Besides Marinette, we missed this too.” Ivan chirped in, Adrien and Juleka nodding alongside him.

“I haven’t had time to play in forever, I almost forgot how much I loved playing.” Adrien said, smiling.

“I am honored to share a stage with you guys again, and hopefully we can do this more often.” Marinette said earnestly, stretching her hand out; immediately the rest of the group followed hands on top of one another. “Who are we?” Juleka cheered,

“Miraculous!”

“And what do we do?” Ivan boasted,

“Rock!” The group said hyping themselves up. She heard a stagehand call out to them. Nerves made her stomach drop, and hyper aware of everything surrounding her, the amount of people backstage making her feel a little overwhelmed. A stagehand offered her a microphones and an earpiece, realizing that her band was up. Feeling her heart race as Ivan and Adrien were the first to get on the dark stage, followed by Juleka after kissing her girlfriend, Rose. “Nerves of steel”; she reminded herself. She had performed for bigger crowds before, and she knew she had at least one fan out there. Alya put a familiar strap on her shoulders and she smiled. Even through his objects, Luka’s magical calming effect washed over her. She put her hand on the neck of the black guitar, breathing deeply. While technically she’d be playing rhythm guitar to Adrien, she wanted to show Luka that his lessons hadn’t been in vain.

Inhaling deeply, she took a step onto the stage, gingerly holding the neck of the guitar. The audience milled beneath her and as she exhaled, she felt at home. Although it had been a few years since she stepped on a stage, it felt familiar. The dim lights, the buzzing excitement in the air. She felt her heart speed up in anticipation, nerves slipping away as she walked towards the mic stand, her domain. She heard the excitement grow as she approached; a bright white spotlight flickered to life on her. She turned her head towards her bandmates for reassurance, they nodded back at her, signaling they were ready. Putting her mic on the stand, she leaned in close.

“Good evening France!” She called out to the crowd. She heard a whoop and her eyes quickly scanned the crowd. “I see someone recognizes us!” She laughed as another few cheers fluttered back to her. She smiled as her eyes settled on a mop of black and blue hair.

“We have Stoneheart back on the drums!” She called out as Ivan started to play the beat of an old song of theirs, a white stage light passing from her to him. “And Reflecta on the bass!” She called as Juleka joined in with the bass, the spotlight changing to purple and shining on her. “Chat Noir on the Guitar!” She felt Adrien shred a tune and smirked when she saw Luka’s eyebrows raise into his hairline. “And yours truly Ladybug on vocals!” She pumped an arm as the lights on the stage shifted from green on Adrien to red on her. “We’re Miraculous and we are back for ONE. NIGHT. ONLY!!”. As her words reverberated through the hall, the excitement became palpable. Her eyes flicked from her boyfriend to the crowd, as they became more vocal and cheered on. “I’m sure most of you know this song! So, feel free to join in and help me sing!”

Juleka and Adrien stopped playing as Ivan changed the tune he was playing, and she flipped the guitar on her back. As she gripped the mic a bit more firmly, Juleka started to play the melody for their song Sorry now. Her nerves having dissipated as she sang, her heart swelled in joy. In the background she heard Alya join her for faster paced lyrics and smiled. The words flowing through her mouth as if she had just made them up on the spot, the emotion building up in her as she remembered the person for who she wrote the song for. Her eyes flicked back to Luka as she got into the chorus, memories flooding back to her; Luka comforting her on his bed after a terrible day at Lycée with Lyla, helping her channel the anger into music.

Reaching the second chorus she held the microphone out, stopping midway and let the audience sing along with her. Marinette beamed, pleased their song was still remembered. For Marinette, this song was very much her way to cope with the emotions from being bullied and humiliated by Lila. Upon reflection, she realized that the hurt and confidence this song portrayed had made it what it was, and that passion made it resonate so much with her fans. She waved her hand at the audience and put both hands on her microphone preparing to hit the high notes on the second half of the notes. Grinning as she hit them, she opened her eyes again to finish the song.

Relishing in the cheers afterwards Marinette locked eyes again with her boyfriend in the crowd as he cheered for her. He winked at her, before letting out another cheer. Although Marinette wanted to bask in the emotion, she knew that festivals were fast paced, and the band didn’t hesitate to transition between songs. Ivan changed their beat, shifting into their song ‘Care’. Marinette took advantage of Ivan’s small drum solo to shift the guitar from her back to her hands. She gave it a small strum before quietly signaling in her earpiece for the crew members to turn on her amp. Care had a bit more of a nostalgic feel and was Adrien’s favorite song to perform. It was his cathartic song about his father. It wasn’t as vocal intensive as their first song, which gave Marinette time to focus on the guitar and keep the singing more instinctive. It really was more of a song for Adrien to show off his guitar skills.

Their third song was more guitar heavy and had Mariette step up her game. Luka’s face was priceless when he saw her actually play a second song on his guitar. ‘California Girls’ was a tribute from Juleka to Rose. Jules wrote the lyrics and Luka had helped with the melody. The beginning of the song allowed Marinette to move more freely on the stage as it had more instrumentals. More comfortable with Luka’s guitar she jumped and danced around as she played. She trusted Rose with her backup vocals and focused a bit more on having fun on stage. After the bridge Adrien and she added a small guitar duet to really showcase their guitar skills, a small tribute to their teacher. Marinette had been nervous during practice yet performing and the audience cheering made playing the guitar akin to breathing, effortless. Finishing the song Marinette let go of the guitar, letting the weight fall upon the strap on her shoulders. Running a hand through her hair she moved closer to her mic.

“You guys have been awesome so far!” The crowd cheered as Marinette held the microphone once again in her hands. “This song is so special to me,”. She smiled and peeked at Luka, noticing him tilting his head to the side. For the past two songs she had sneaked glances at him yet was focused more on the energy that reverberated through the venue. “My boyfriend wrote this song before we started dating.” She held back a laugh as she saw Luka’s reaction. “I had the biggest crush on a model when I was a teenager and he thought I was going to reject him in favor of the model when I had the chance.” Marinette laughed. “I hope if he’s out there and hears this he doesn’t mind we made the melody a bit more pop than rock.” She smiled and nodded towards Adrien to stop playing. ‘Daft pretty boys’ was something Luka was never proud of writing, yet they both found it immensely funny after a few months of dating. She never realized how Luka felt about her and how jealous he was to write a song about his pent-up emotions. She found it somewhat endearing that he felt so strongly about her even back then. Marinette started to play the guitar, and kept her eyes locked with her boyfriend. The band agreed to let her sing and play the first verse alone, as an homage to his writing process, and then join in the pre chorus. It would be the first time he’d hear the song being sung as an actual song, and not a melody. Although she tried to keep her gaze on Luka, she eventually had to look around the crowd, yet she felt his gaze burn onto her. They had changed the original melody to fit a more upbeat tune. Nino had helped with the composition, turning it into a more danceable song. The band had fun learning this song, a small creation for their performance.

As the song ended, Marinette took a small sip of water provided for the band as the rest of the band room also took a small break. Marinette beamed as she addressed the crowd. “This is our final song tonight! A small tribute to our favorite band, one that inspired us to come back from retirement.” The crowd buzzed with anticipation. “It’s this small band, you might have heard from them. The Quantic Kids?” Marinette paused to let the crowd cheer with anticipation. “I’m pretty sure they’re the headliners tonight. “Her eyes locked with Luka’s as he flushed. She grinned at the crowd’s excitement as Ivan started the beat of the song. “This song is called When it Breaks.” The crowd continued to cheer as Marinette held the guitar, ready to play again. The song was exciting and different for the band, and it was a bit intense for Marinette as it required more focus on both singing and playing from her. It was worth it in her eyes, as she had spent countless nights practicing in Nino’s studio away from her boyfriend to give his band the respect they deserved. The beat of the song was much faster paced and left the ambience hyped for the next band. Ending the song left the singer slightly out of breath.

Marinette looked back into the crowd, her eyes scanned quickly trying to find his piercing blue eyes, to no avail. Smiling, trying to press down the growing nerves inside she waved to the crowd. “Thank you, France! We are Miraculous!” trying to reason with herself why Luka wasn’t in the audience she reminded herself not to freak out. “Bug-out!” She yelled out before the lights onstage cut off and the band made their way offstage.

Immediately the band was flocked by people, but Marinette held tightly onto Luka’s guitar as she searched for him amongst the crowd. Praises and congratulations abundant, Marinette grinned politely, her mind racing with thoughts of Luka and concern over where he was. As the band was brushed from person to person she suddenly felt for her mask. Sighing in relief that it was still in place she resumed her search for a certain blue haired musician. Finding her way to Alya, suddenly a voice struck out clear as day, “My guitar seems to have been stolen.” Marinette’s polite grin turned into a fully-fledged beam.

“So, what if it has?” She retorted as she felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulder.

“I’d have to report you to the police.” Luka smiled back at her before hugging her. His proper congratulations could wait when she wasn’t Ladybug anymore.

“Even after we paid homage to your band with our theme?” She retorted sticking out her tongue at him.

“I’m glad you found inspiration in us to come out of retirement.” He said, eyes filled with laughter.

“It was an executive decision. You were a big factor.”

“Well, I’m honored…”

“I’ve even taken inspiration from you for my outfit. You like?” She said cheekily. She felt his gaze take her over and his cheeks flush. She had designed a leather bustier top with a teal scaley design that shifted from black to teal chrome with light, mimicking snakeskin. The bustier ended a little above her waist, exposing her abdomen. She designed a short black leather asymmetrical skirt with three thick buckles in the front with a snakeskin texture, to match with the theme. Alongside some teal and black jewelry, she finished the outfit with black platform boots with buckles that matched her top.

“I’m not sure my girlfriend would approve.” Luka replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I have a feeling she wouldn’t mind one bit.” She smirked, as Alya came in tow with Nino. The crowd around the band had dissipated, and the bandmates were buzzed from their performance. Nino hugged Marinette as he saw her grinning from ear to ear. “LB! It’s been forever!” She smiled and hugged him back.

“It has been, thanks for squeezing us in for a little comeback.”

“No problem LB, you guys really helped launch the label, along with quantic kids.” He said high fiving Luka. “Are you sure I can’t convenience you guys to record a new comeback record?” Marinette laughed and shook her head.

Alya chimed in, smirking at her friend “Fine Ladybug, well the least you can do is come to our party, model Adrien Agreste is going.” This time Luka burst out laughing alongside Marinette.

“Is it true you sang a song about him?” Luka jested raising an eyebrow at the singer.

“My songwriter would kill me if I told you.” She poked Luka’s side with her elbow before turning back to Nino. “I already have plans for tonight, but if they blow over, I could make an appearance.” Nino chuckled and tilted his hat towards her. “Hope to see you there.” The couple walked towards the rest of Miraculous band to mingle, leaving the musician and singer alone. She waved at him, continuing to mingle lightly with some people before ducking out when everyone was distracted.

She walked towards Ayla’s car, having agreed to meet up with the rest of the band after changing. Safely inside she found another set of clothes, almost identical to her current outfit but with the top and bottom colors inverted. She shook her hair out of her pigtails and took off her mask, quickly changing in the safety of dark tinted windows, becoming designer Marinette once again. Just in time, there was a soft knock on her window signaling the group was ready to leave for the party.

Adrien and Luka joined her in the backseat, as Nino and Alya slipped in the front. Marinette handed Adrien another neat pile of clothing to change. Although his all black leather get-up was sure to be a knockout at the party, Adrien wanted to keep Chat Noir a secret for a little longer, just in case they did decide to get the band back together. Marinette held Luka's hand as the man squished next to the girl to give Adrien more space to change in the small sedan. “So, I heard Ladybug was flirting with you backstage.” She joked making the musician blush. “Should I be worried about competition?” She heard Alya chuckle in front of her, eavesdropping on the conversation, Luka joining in.

“Why is my melody jealous?” Marinette wrinkled her nose and Luka kissed the tip of her nose. “Well Ladybug should know there is only one girl for me, although I do have to thank her for the comeback.” Marinette smiled at her boyfriend, before leaning against the car door.

“Well, it’s a small thank you for teaching us how to play the guitar.” Adrien chimed in, signaling he had changed.

“You guys improved so much! I felt like a proud father.” Luka responded. He squeezed Marinette’s hand twice, a small gesture they shared as reassurance. The group talked on their way to Nino’s afterparty, catching up on their lives. They talked about Adrien’s love life and modeling with Juleka in Fashion Week, Luka’s upcoming tour in Europe, Ayla’s success as a music columnist and her plans to open her own magazine, Nino’s record label and the upcoming artists in his roster, as well as Marinette’s designs that were selected to appear in an Italian Magazine. The car ride had been long yet with the friend group it had felt as though time hadn’t passed since lycée.

The party was more of an industry mixer, where artists, managers and famous people mingled about. The friends were accustomed to this type of party, as it was prevalent in their career choices, and although it was great to make connections it was also somewhat boring. Being a Nino party, it felt more like a club than a networking event, yet people were always on the job. Getting out of the car, paparazzi was abundant at the entrance, trying to snap pictures of model Adrien and rock star Luka, yet the group ignored them, walking straight inside. Immediately Nino and Alya were whisked away to talk to some editorial, and Adrien was being flirted with by an American socialite. Marinette and Luka headed to the makeshift dance floor and started to dance but were quickly interrupted by other artists star-struck by Luka.

Being used to this Marinette headed to the bar, which is where the couple always agreed to meet when separated by others. She ordered a cocktail and saw a small and quiet lounge area to the left. Heading there she was stopped by two women, a couple she recognized as a musician in Nino’s label and her famous actress girlfriend. Making small talk, she soon found out they were interested in her designs, wanting custom gowns for a red-carpet event. They started to exchange contact information when she felt an arm wrap around her waist. She wanted to lean into the warmth yet before she could it was gone, Luka opting to stand next to her instead of behind her. Introducing themselves again to Luka; the musician and Luka started to talk about the label, the woman curious about the way things were managed as she was new.

She felt his hand intertwine with hers and a tingle went through her spine. His thumb rubbing the back of her hand made her look up at him, chiseled jaw moving with his mouth, a small smirk present. Although he was mostly nonchalant, he had grown more confident in the year his band has been performing. Goosebumps suddenly traveled up her arm as she tried to focus on the conversation, but the tension building up between them made it hazy. Her eyes darted to the bathroom and smiled, “It was great catching up! I’m going to get another drink.” She said to the couple, letting go of Luka’s hand.

******

She straightened her back and headed towards a coat room, closing the door behind her. A few moments later she heard a familiar knock before the door opened, revealing Luka. He quickly entered before closing the door behind him and locking it. It only took him to turn back to her for Marinette to be on him, lips crashing against each other, her hand tangling in his hair. Instantly his hands grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, a small moan escaping her throat. He pulled away and smirked down at her. “As much as I love to hear you my melody, we might have to keep this symphony a bit quieter. We don’t want to alert anyone.” He said, putting a hand on her cheek, features softening from lust to adoration. He felt his heart swell at the sight of the seamstress/retired pop star with flushed cheeks, swollen pink lips parted slightly with breathlessness and a baby blue eyes that held utter desire for him. “God you are beautiful.” He whispered, bringing his other hand to hers, and pulling it up to his mouth to kiss. “A goddess of beauty and a siren of song, you’ve lured me into your arms and I never want to leave.”

Marinette flushed a darker shade of pink, yet the emotions stirring in her stomach beat any of the sentiment in her heart. “As are you, but we’re wasting precious time. It won’t be long before someone starts searching for us.” She whispered, through half lidded eyes. “It’s been torture to not have you all to myself.” She took another step towards him, his hands slipping from her waist to her hips to hoist her up and against the door. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, her hands resuming their position in his hair. She suppressed a gasp as he continued to kiss her hungrily, opting to clutch his hair tighter pulling slightly. Luka let out a soft moan, and peppered kisses from her mouth to her ear. Marinette snaked a hand underneath his blouse, feeling the soft skin against hard muscles. He let out a sigh as she gently traced her fingers up and down his abdomen and chest. Deciding the shirt was too much of a hassle, Marinette unbuttoned two other buttons before throwing it over his head. They only separated for a moment before their lips were back together, grinding against each other as they hungrily wanted more. As Marinette’s hand started to gently move up and down his back, the soft touch sensual, Luka started nibbling on her earlobe lightly before kissing behind the ear. He bit down and sucked, “Luka!” Marinette gasped before he continued kissing down her neck leaving a small love bite. Marinette pressed against him harder, wanting him to be closer. Grinding a little faster she felt his hard bulge against her as he groaned into her ear. His face moved back to her lips as he moved closer to the wall opposite the door, his lips sucking on hers hungrily as she bit his lower lip, enticing another moan from him. As soon as her back hit the wall his hands pinned her arms above her head, kissing his way down her neck towards her collarbone. “You know I love your designs but seeing you up there earlier on stage with my colors and my guitar… I never knew I needed to see that before.” He kissed her collarbone again, before straightening out and tightened his grip on her wrists, making Marinette moan.

“Seeing you up there, wearing this… it made me want to ravish you,” he whispered leaning his forehead against hers before gently lowering her. Marinette almost whined as her feet touched the floor, “it was downright sinful what I wanted to do to you in that moment.” One of his hands slipped from down her arm, neck, between the valley of her breasts to the hooks on her bustier top, leaving shocks of electricity with his touch, Marinette leaning into his touch with pleasure. “My thoughts were filthy. But now…” he trailed off, eyes dropping to unhook the front of her top. “I get to show you exactly how I felt at that moment.” He pulled her top apart to expose her breasts, nipples getting harder against the cold air. Luka smiled and resumed where he left off, kissing gently down her collar bone, Marinette let out a soft moan, her hands clasping together as he neared her nipple. She felt the anticipation of his warm breath on her, yet before he could take the delicate skin in his mouth he smiled. “I haven’t even started and you’re already flustered ladybug?” she groaned, about to retort but the words never came out as his tongue flickered against the soft sensitive skin of her nipple.

“D-damn you.” She managed to mutter out, his tongue flicking the tip before circling around it. Her fingers tightened around themselves, rolls of pleasure crashing through her. Had Luka not been holding her against the door, she would’ve felt her legs weaken as he bit down gently before taking it in his mouth and swirling the flesh with his tongue. His other hand came down cupping the other breast, fondling it before pinching the other nipple making Marinette moan louder than she meant to. He smiled before shifting, replacing his hand with his mouth, making Marinette arch her back trying to get him closer to her.

Luka pulled away, hand leaving her arms before grabbing her waist and kneeling in front of her. Marinette was left panting biting her lip, as her hands found their way into his hair. He smiled before kissing down her sternum and between her ribcages. He pulled back before pulling the hemline of her skirt above her hips admiring the lingerie underneath. “I see you didn’t waste any of the bustier fabric.” He said, lips tilted upwards in amusement.

“s-Shut up…” She managed to sputter out, face bright red. Luka gently kissed her thigh from the middle inwards, training his way upwards until they hit the cut of her panties. Marinette was red and flushed, biting her lip to keep sounds from coming out. Her stomach fluttered, as the burning passion inside her consumed her. His lips felt like a matchstick, his trail leaving a tingling sensation that she didn’t, particularly mind. Kissing her through her panties, he looked up at her for permission to continue, to which she nodded, releasing her bottom lip from between her teeth. Luka so gently pulled them down, before ever so delicately put a finger between the folds of her warm, wet, and sensitive pussy. He gently brushed against her clit enticing another moan from the small seamstress. He pulled his finger back and admired it as it glistened in the low light before popping it into his mouth. He wasted no time sucking her wetness from his finger before his face was back at her inner thighs, kissing from the middle towards her slick clit. It didn’t take long before he reached there, giving her clit some special attention with his tongue. Soon he had Marinette bracing herself against the wall for support and her hands gripping and pulling his hair, begging him in sweet soft moans for more. As wave after wave of pleasure overrode her, Luka enjoyed seeing his girlfriend try to keep quiet as orgasm overtook her. Seeing her head tilted back, mouth agape, gasping for air made him wish he had photographic memory. He sat back and admired his handiwork as he held Marinette steady.

Licking his lips, he smiled and stood up. Marinette let out a small sigh and put her head against the wall. “Need a moment?” he chuckled as he kissed her forehead. She nodded breathless. “Well come here” He wrapped his arms around her waist letting his girlfriend lean against him. He quietly started to rearrange her clothing as she gathered her bearings. “What about...” Luka’s eyes pierced into hers and he winked. “We can continue this at home, but I think our absence might be noticed if we are gone any longer.” He kissed Marinette again before lifting her bustier top over her exposed chest. “Now, my melody, where exactly did you throw my shirt?”.

*******

Marinette got to the bar and ordered two cocktails as Luka met up with her at the bar. He kissed her temple as the bartender handed her two drinks. She felt proud of her boyfriend, they spent the night mingling, eventually dancing with their friends and happy in each other’s arms.

#lukanette #mlss2020 #mlss 2k20 #mlss #miraculous ladybug secret santa #miraculous secret santa #gift fic #band au #My writing #miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #luka #marinette dupain cheng #ML #miraculous au #ml fic #one shot

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anarchy-n-glitter · 3 years

Text

The Volkov Files

Summary: Years after the Raccoon City incident, questions arise after the body of an old friend is used to taunt Leon Kennedy on a mission. Who was Envy Snow really? Why was she in Raccoon City when the outbreak happened? When was she killed and who killed her?

FILE 1, FILE 3

FILE 2

Leon looked at Envy as she stood, bent over and catching her breath. She was rather tall and pale, her hair matching that same snow white skin. She wore a blue, zip-up vest and a white skirt that was already splattered with blood. She looked at Leon through her long, doe-like lashes with eyes that resembled icy water. Her lips were parted slightly as her chest rose and fell, taking in deep breaths. However, Leon could see the deep red gashes on her upper arm that contrasted with her pale skin and stained her gloves.

“We have to get out of here.” She breathed. Leon nodded before pointing at her arm. She looked down at her arm, lifting it slightly to observe it. He got down onto one knee, leading Natalya to do the same.

“I’m aware. I didn’t have time to patch it up, as you can tell.” She said before gesturing to the dead zombies on the ground. Leon reached into a pouch on his hip and retrieved a small can. He shook it before holding out his hand. Natalya eyed it suspiciously then, slowly, she held out her arm, allowing Leon to take it. He began to spray her wound with a cold, scentless liquid that stung slightly. Natalya winced, shocked by the sudden sensation. Leon finished up quickly and reached into his pouch again to grab bandages, which he promptly began to wrap around her arm.

“Now we can get out of here.” He said. Natalya looked at him, silently figuring him out as if he were some sort of puzzle for her to solve. He was bright eyed and painfully optimistic, young too. She feared that he was a danger to himself; that he’d end up getting killed. She knew it wasn’t fair, but it was how the world worked, no matter what field of work you were in.

Natalya’s eyes glanced at the letters on his chest: RPD. She smiled in a fake manner, hoping that he knew what he was doing.

“Then lead the way.” She said. Leon took her hand and helped her up to her feet. She brought her other hand up to grasp at her wounded arm and watched as Leon cautiously walked down the hall, flashlight and gun pointed in the same direction. He seemed capable enough, but Natalya wasn’t quite ready to trust someone she just met.

Puddles splashed beneath their heels as the walls groaned and creaked. Leon was ready to fire, because he knew at any second a zombie could round the corner. Being ready meant life or death. Natalya felt incredibly vulnerable standing behind Leon. She didn’t have a flashlight of her own and the light of his wasn’t enough to illuminate their surrounding area. Something could sneak up behind her and she’d be done for.

Perhaps that is his plan, she thought to herself, maybe he knows and he’s leading me to my doom. Of course, Natalya knew that this was just paranoia. Years of being a spy took a toll on how one views the world and the people living in it. Now that Raccoon City was having its own mini apocalypse, this thought process was amped up to one hundred.

Normally she wouldn’t be so reliant on someone, but now? Now that she was out of bullets and wounded? Now she would certainly rely on someone, as long as she knew that they were trustworthy.

“How much longer?” She asked him. He glanced back at her, opening his mouth to reply, but he was stopped by the sounds of growling. He whipped his head around and focused on the rotting creature in front of him. He backed up slightly, the hand with the gun coming down and out to the side so he could shield Natalya.

“Get back!” He yelled to her, and she obliged without question. The zombie reached out at Leon, its fingers flexing and moving in unnatural ways as it attempted to grab at his warm flesh. Natalya drew a knife. It was a small pocket knife that was easily concealed by her thigh-high boots. It fit easily into her hand and remained hidden there until she knew what Leon was doing.

The zombie lunged, screeching hysterically. Leon dodged its pathetic attempts at catching him and re-aimed his gun, pointing it directly at its head. He fired, blood splattered everywhere as well as chunks of skull, but the creature was not deterred. Natalya backed up against the wall, watching wearily as the zombie went in for another attack. It grabbed Leon by the shoulders and prepared to bite, but he pulled a knife and buried it deep into the monster’s chest and pushed it away. He aimed again and took two more shots, both hitting the head of the zombie. This time it fell, collapsing to the ground with a loud THUD!

Leon walked over to it and grabbed his knife back before turning his attention to Natalya.

“Come on. I don’t think this thing is gonna stay down for long.” He told her, and she obeyed, running toward him, her footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. She found herself grabbing ahold of his shoulder, allowing him to completely lead the way. They reached a door and Leon slowly opened it, peeking through the crack to be sure the coast was clear. They entered the main hall of the RPD, it was empty save for Marvin, as it usually was. Natalya broke away from Leon, looking around as he rushed over to Marvin, who was behind a screen, laying down on one of the couches.

He stopped and glanced back at Envy.

“Hey, the way out’s over here. I just gotta get Marvin and put this last piece in the thing and then we can get outta here.” He told her, gesturing to where the giant statue of a woman stood. Natalya nodded and followed him over to the back of the hall, where she finally saw the man Leon was referring to as “Marvin.” He sat on a green couch, holding his right side, which was bleeding profusely. Leon placed the last medallion into a slot on the base of the statue, and the base shifted, revealing a tunnel below the floor. Natalya stared in awe, shocked that such a place would have secret tunnels. Although, she supposed that wasn’t the oddest thing she had come across in America, especially in this city.

Leon had been a bit preoccupied, arguing with Marvin as Natalya stared into the depths of the RPD. Things got more heated behind her, but she wouldn’t realize that until she heard a gun being cocked. She turned around to see Marvin holding Leon by gunpoint.

“It’s on you now… just go!” Marvin told Leon. Leon simply stood there, looking at the dying man. Natalya came up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“I understand.” Leon said before touching Natalya’s hand and turning around. The two walked down the steps together and took their first steps to reuniting with the outside world. Before they entered the tunnel below, Leon took one last look at Marvin.

The rookie cop, as I had heard some people call him, whether through notes or actual survivors, was a kind man who had helped me escape the RPD. I fear that, had I not met him, I might have been the only living person left in that place. I might not have made it without Leon.

He led me into a room below the RPD, which might be in your interest to investigate after this. There was a small model of the station on a desk, and it didn’t seem to have any significance, despite how many times I searched it.

Leon and I made it into some sort of boiler room, but that was when we got separated. He went ahead of me after we heard a noise. I had already picked up some ammo and reloaded my weapons, so I went to investigate. Something happened and a tunnel collapsed behind me, the last thing I remembered before that was the sounds of metal getting smashed in. I supposed maybe some sort of foundation involving pipes broke and it caused the doorway to crumble, but I wasn’t sure, so I continued on.

Natalya picked up a box of handgun ammo and quickly loaded it into her gun, following Leon closely into a boiler room. It was large, and, despite its size, was rather cramped. The floors were metal and echoed loudly as they walked. Steam rose from a machine below them, creating a thick fog that temporarily blinded the two. She gripped her gun tighter.

There was a loud grunt, followed by booming footsteps above them. More sounds resonated throughout the chamber, unsettling moaning that communicated pain. Leon lifted his gun again and looked back at Natalya.

“What was that?” She asked. Leon didn’t answer, instead, he continued to travel down the path. When the noises didn’t stop, Natalya froze in her tracks.

“Envy…” Leon began. Natalya lifted a finger to her lips.

“I’m going to investigate.” She told him. He wanted to tell her not to, but he knew it would do no good. It took him a few moments, but eventually he nodded. Natalya turned around and ran off in the other direction in search of some stairs.

Leon continued on the path he was taking before.

Transcript (translated):

September 24th, 1998

N: Leon and I were separated. I can hear the sounds of metal hitting metal from down the corridor. I might need backup, I might need to be extracted from the city; there aren’t many people left in the city and I haven’t seen Ms. Wong anywhere. Not a trace of her.

P: Who’s Leon?

N: A man I met. He knows his way around the city; a police officer.

P: What does he know of us?

N: Not much. He doesn’t even know my real name.

P: Good. I’m afraid, NV, that we cannot extract you from the city until you find Ms. Wong. You have to trade information.

N: I don’t even know if she’s alive!

P: That doesn’t matter, find her and get the information. If you cannot do that you are useless to us.

N: So if I don’t find her you’ll leave me to die here?

P: I’m afraid so. You’ll be a liability.

N: Fine.

P: Report back when you find the target.

N: Yes, sir.

(Phone line ringing.)

The halls were dark and quiet, save for the brief shuffling of feet coming from a zombie or two. Natalya held up a dying flashlight, one that she found on the body of a dead officer. From what she could tell, she was in a prison. Cells could be seen to her left and right, some occupied by zombs (as Natalya liked to call them), some not. They would reach through the bars, their bloody hands grabbing for her even though she was just out of their reach. She wanted to shoot them, just to be sure they didn’t get out and try to kill her later, but she knew that she was low on ammo again. Despite being in a police station, ammo was pretty scarce.

Then she saw them, a figure, a shadow moving in the darkness. She could see from their silhouette that they were wearing heels, and assumed that this person was a woman. She hid behind the wall, peaking around the corner every now and then to watch what they were doing. The woman opened the gate down the hall, entering and talking to someone. Natalya wanted to move out, but knew that she couldn’t. Silently she hoped that this woman was Ada, but she remembered Leon mentioning a woman named Claire, so the chance was slim.

She could hear two voices vaguely. They spoke in a whisper; one was a deeper voice that sounded vaguely familiar, and the other was the distinct voice of a woman. The man’s voice rose, claiming that he didn’t even know her name. Then Natalya heard it, he announced his name. “Leon Kennedy.” Natalya could feel her hopes rise and immediately became relieved now that she knew that he was okay. Heels clicked as the woman began walking down the hall.

“Name’s Ada.” She told him, her heels clicking loudly as she walked off. Natalya pressed her back against the wall and began to move away from the corner. The target was there, but she needed to see Leon again, just to make sure he was actually okay. She found a door and opened it, which led her into a closet. She hid and waited for the target to move, then she’d follow her… after she talked to Leon. She opened the door again to watch where Ada went, and once she was sure she was gone she moved toward the corner again.

She saw him standing there, reading a paper. She grabbed ahold of the bars on the gate and tried to push it open, only to realize it was locked. Leon turned around after he heard the gate rattle, gun pointed at her. His face softened as soon as he realized it was her.

“Leon?” She called out. He smiled at her.

“Envy.” He breathed out before immediately rushing over, stopping just in front of the gate.

“How’s your arm?” He asked. She smiled.

“Fine.” She reassured him. She looked over him, making sure that he didn’t have any wounds on him. He reached out to push on the gate, which didn’t budge even on his side. Natalya shook her head.

“It’s locked.” She told him. He sighed and took a step back before drawing his gun again.

“I’ll come find you.” He promised her. She shook her head again before looking behind her, eyeing the corridor Ada had gone down.

“Don’t worry about me. I have something else I need to do. Maybe we could meet up in the parking garage.” She told him. He looked over his right shoulder after hearing a groan, then he looked back to her.

“Yeah. Deal.” Natalya then ran off, attempting to catch up with Ada. Leon was left wondering what it was she had to do; and what she was doing coming from where Ada had walked in.

Natalya ran down the hallway to her left before coming to a door.

I had tracked Ada the best I could in the prison but I ended up losing her. I’ll admit, perhaps seeing Leon beforehand was a mistake, but I needed to know if he was okay. When I had met him, I was sure he was doomed. But, as time went on and as he fought, I realized that I was routing for him. I wanted to see him succeed in this unfair world. We would grow closer as time went on, after we had reunited of course.

As time would go on, I would fall for him. He was so optimistic; it was almost contagious. He tried his best to protect the survivors, and, if I weren’t in the predicament I am in as I write this, I would have loved to see him continue on as an officer. He had the heart for it, and he wore it on his arm for the world to see.

I just wish I could get out of here, but I can’t right now or they’d find me. And I know he’ll never see this, but I wish I could have gotten on the train with him and his friend Claire. I knew that they were following me, that man and his woman, so I knew not to lead them to the last few survivors. They’d kill them and then me.

So here I am, writing this as some sort of sick memoir. I’m hiding in a locker, shining my flashlight on this small notebook that I found on a nearby desk. I just wanted to explain how I got here, possibly even what led up to my death, if this should go in that direction. And I want-again, even though I know he won’t see it-Leon to know that, despite how short our time was together, how wonderful he was as a person. Any other person would have left me to die in the station, but you helped me.

Leon clutched the note in his hand, crumpling the sides slightly as he read. He couldn’t believe it. He knew she was killed, he saw her body on his last mission but… she had died years ago. The people who had killed her were tracking her in Raccoon City and she refused to go with him because she knew that they’d come for her and kill them all.

Leon knew that Wesker was involved. He had to have been, why else would he leave her body for him to see? But the thing that got him was, they preserved her body. They had planned to use her for something, whether it really was just to taunt him or for something else.

He knew that she had cared for him though, and that on its own was something to behold. Despite how emotionless she seemed, he could tell that she was fond of him. Although, from the way she worded it, it seemed like it was more of a fascination with him. Now, with this new evidence, he questioned what his life would have been like had the Raccoon City incident never happened. Would she still have come to Raccoon City to look for Ada? Would they still have met? What would have happened if Umbrella wasn’t after her? If Wesker wasn’t?

So many questions. All without answers.

She had lost Ada, but she gained a stalker. It was the man. The man from the party. He had come for her. Natalya was still unsure of the reason, but she knew it wasn’t good. Perhaps he knew who she was, possibly since the party, but now he was going to get rid of her. She picked up her pace, walking faster, acting like she didn’t know he was there. He walked at the same pace, allowing her to get some distance between her, but she was a tricky one. The next zomb she saw she’d throw at him and make a run for the parking garage so she could wait for Leon.

He was silent. Every part of him was silent, even the way he walked. Natalya didn’t like that.

She turned another corner, and, for once in her life she hoped a zomb would be there. There wasn’t. So she kept walking, searching every nook and cranny for ammo or other valuable items. She found a hip pouch just a few minutes earlier, and now she was looking for other things. For example, a key card so she could get the hell out of the station and out into the streets so she could lose this creep.

Natalya only had ten days left to live, and now the reaper is following her.

“Leon!” Natalya shouted. He turned around immediately, watching as she struggled to run. Ada stopped dead in her tracks and watched as a familiar face ran up to them. Envy Snow, she knew her and she knew that Envy was a codename. She eyed the woman wearily, but didn’t bother to say anything to Leon, who seemed relieved and overjoyed to see her.

“You made it.” He breathed. Natalya nodded and looked over at the woman in the trench coat: Ada. She stood at the mouth of the garage, staring the two down behind her dark glasses. Natalya, for once, felt like she couldn’t be bothered with the mission. Ada was there, yeah that was great, but she didn’t feel rushed to get info out of her. She didn’t want to do the tradeoff yet, especially if it meant leaving without Leon.

Leon followed her gaze to Ada.

“Oh, Envy, this is Ada. She’s helping me get out of here.” Natalya stepped forward, smiling at the woman she knew was a spy.

“I know… we’ve met.” Ada didn’t say a word to Envy. She knew that she had to do an exchange, but she knew she couldn’t do it there. Not in front of Leon. There was a loud crashing noise from the corner of the garage which put Leon on edge. He began to move forward slowly, which in turn caught the attention of Ada and Natalya.

“I think we should get going.” He said, moving ahead of the two spies. Ada was next to get moving, but Natalya stood there staring at the wall that began to crumble as something large moved through it, going deeper into the building and moving away from them. She finally turned around to follow Leon and Ada after being sure the thing that caused the hole wasn’t going to follow them.

The streets were as she remembered them: wet and simultaneously on fire with the infected hiding behind every corner. Ada took the lead, guiding the other two through the dilapidated roads to-what they hoped to be-freedom. Leon stood protectively in front of Natalya, despite her own urge to protect him and her ability to protect herself. She would never admit it aloud, but she thought it was sweet.

Zombies toppled over crashed cars as they attempted to get to the group. Natalya would try not to jump when she heard one scream or groan, but, especially when it was a scream, she couldn’t help it. Ada walked coolly and calmly through the streets, clearing whatever she could with what little ammo she had left, leading Leon and Natalya to do the same. Gunshots would echo through the open world, which, despite what they were aiming to do, would draw more zombies to their location. They would come in droves, lunging at the group when they got close enough. Natalya grasped her pocket knife in her hand and went in for the kill. She figured if she could stab it in the head they’d die. This plan, however, only worked for certain zombies. Natalya quickly realized this as one grabbed ahold of her arm and prepared to bite into it. She panicked and tried to rip her arm away, but to no avail. Her free hand fumbled for her gun.

Her gloved fingers kept grazing the handle, but in a panic, she was unable to grab ahold immediately. Luckily, as they were walking, Leon heard the commotion. Natalya had finally managed to get ahold of herself and the gun and promptly raised it. She was still fending off the creature, trying her best to keep its gnashing teeth away from her arm. Leon rushed over, his gun aimed and at the rotting person. Natalya had managed to get her knife free with her gun hand (on accident, of course), but in the process, she had lost her hold on the creature’s head. It was about to bite down, when two gunshots rang through her ears.

The bullets had torn through the back of the zombie’s head, shattering its rotting teeth in the process. Its grasp loosened around her wrist as it fell backward, still gurgling and growling. Natalya took a moment to process what had just happened, but Leon grabbed her shoulder, turning her around to look at him and Ada.

“We gotta keep moving.” He reminded her as more of the infected closed in around the trio.

They were in a lab. An underground one. Leon had just gotten Ashley back, who hadn’t shut up since they got there.

Hell, she hadn’t shut up at all.

She was complaining about something he had said, something that was supposed to be a joke, but he supposed that didn’t matter to her. Scrap metal laid below them, on the ground glistening in the sunlight that leaked through the large opening above them… the one that they fell through. Leon was sure there was nothing else there, right?

Wrong.

He saw it as he observed their surroundings, laying there like some abandoned doll. Hair, as pale as it had been before. He felt himself go cold as his heart sped up. He cautiously approached the object

(or person)

in question, hoping that whatever

(or whoever)

it was hadn’t been laid there as a trap. As he grew closer, he realized that it, indeed, wasn’t a what… but a who. He couldn’t help but gasp in shock, unable to suppress what he had been feeling. He had been looking for her for seven years, and he found her… but…

She was as pale as she had been when he met her, but with more hints of grey in her complexion. Her mouth hung open, her lips looked like pale rose petals. He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. She was smart, she knew what she was doing. She survived that hell only to be killed in the end. He bent down and placed his hand on her shoulder, allowing the cold flesh to come into contact with his own warm skin. She was dead alright… but for how long had she been dead?

It looked as if she had been killed recently; surely if she were killed in 1998 she would have decomposed by then, right? Everything was still intact. Her skin was flawless still, save for the puncture mark on her neck. Leon ran his hand over it, feeling the bump as if touching it would tell him what happened to her, but alas, nothing. She laid on piles of scrap metal, her body contorted in a beautiful way.

She laid with her head facing her left, her hair covering the lower part of her face and falling into her mouth. Her right arm was raised beside her head; her hand was curled into a loose fist, while the other laid over her midsection. Her legs were bent, both facing the left with one foot underneath the knee of the leg on top. She looked as if she were sleeping, but Leon knew that was far from the truth.

Why was she there? Who would have done this to her? Who could he turn to and trust enough to find him these answers?

“Leon!” Ashley screamed out, drawing his attention away from the corpse of the woman he once loved.

A man and woman watched a wall of screens, each with a different image being displayed. The woman’s head turned in the direction of one particular screen before leaning down to whisper something in the ear over her lover.

“That one.” She told him, her vivid green eyes glancing over at the far left of the room and pointing to the lower image. He brought the surveillance footage up and into the front, allowing it to overtake all the other screens. It showed Leon as he observed the corpse of Natalya, as he searched her for any signs of life. The woman giggled to herself, so quietly that her lover didn’t seem to notice. She watched, completely fascinated by what the man on screen was doing. He knew she was dead, right? She had been dead for years, but they knew. They knew that he was there, and they had dropped her preserved body onto the pile of trash for him to find, because he’d never know. Not like they did, at least. He’d never learn what had happened, he’d never know why they dropped her there to be found by him. He’d never understand why she had killed the spy herself.

“Looks like he’s found our present.” The man stated in his usual monotone. He laced his fingers together in front of him and continued to watch, also intrigued. He wondered what Leon would do. How would he react? Would he be able to piece this one together? Or, perhaps, he would be stuck wondering what happened for the rest of his life. It was a game to the duo; one created through jealousy and manipulation as well as their mutual love and respect… but this? This was different.

“He has…” She agreed. She then looked down at her lover and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

“I love you, you know.” She uttered in his ear. He turned his head slightly, facing the direction her voice was coming from.

“I’m aware.” He responded with a hint of amusement in his voice. She laughed and stood up straight.

“I’m going back to the labs, come down when you’re finished… and tell me what Mr. Kennedy does next.” Her lover nodded in agreement and she left promptly, allowing him to return to the screens.

“Thanks for saving me.” She said to him in a voice barely above a whisper. Leon smiled.

“It was no problem, really.” Ada, who was becoming impatient, turned around to face the two.

“Look, we have to hurry if we want to get out of here alive. Pretty soon there’ll be no hope for us.” She snapped. The two stared on in silence, eventually nodding in agreement and continuing on with their journey. However, Leon had some questions that needed answering.

“Was that the intel you needed?” He asked Ada. She didn’t look back when she spoke to him.

“Unfortunately no. Ben didn’t come through.” She told him. Leon processed what she had said before asking yet another question.

“Well, what exactly are you looking for?” He asked.

“More info on the people responsible for this mess.” She answered. Natalya froze in her tracks, suddenly remembering her mission. She was sure Ada knew as well, but she wasn’t going to say anything in front of Leon. Instead, she pushed past him to walk beside Ada, leaving him confused as he stood En garde.

Ada glanced at the platinum blonde out of the corner of her eye. She did, indeed, recognize the girl. She was informed that she would be sent over to exchange information. The girl would give her more insight on Umbrella, as promised, and Ada would tell her whatever she found.

She observed Natalya closely, noticing that she was a few years younger than herself. She walked with a certain confidence that not many girls her age would have. She was rather similar to Ada, in that respect. From a young age she had been confident in herself and oozed said confidence, and it showed even then… in the midst of a damn apocalypse.

Ada knew why Natalya had walked over, but she wasn’t ready to exchange just yet.

END FILE 2

#leon kennedy x oc #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x natalya volkov #natalya volkov #resident evil fanfic #leon s kennedy #resident evil oc #the volkov files #resident evil

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jessconrad · 4 years

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Fine Line by Harry Styles: The Sunshine We Needed Through A Very Dreary Year

Or An Album Review (One Year Later)

On December 13, 2019, Harry Styles graced the world with his second studio album, Fine Line, and I don’t think it has ever left my Recently Played section on my Spotify account since its release.

I honestly don’t know how I would have survived 2020 without this album. As I reflect on everything this year had to offer, I realized this record will always shine through as it is tied to my best memories of the year.

I listened to this album a lot, with three of my five top songs from my Spotify Wrapped coming from Fine Line. (They were “Sunflower, Vol. 6″, “Golden”, and “To Be So Lonely”, respectively, if you were curious!)

I spent dull afternoons in January walking around the freshly snow covered ground on my college campus blasting “Lights Up” in my headphones. This single was released in October 2019, two months prior to the release of Fine Line, and had been a top favorite of mine with its 70s soulful style. Not to mention, the small choir of backup singers and layering synth gave me an almost nostalgic as the Christmas season started to come to an end. This song was all about finding who you are- and I was starting to figure out who I am with it.

The next month I visited Denver for a conference and I began noticing how this record was starting to become the soundtrack to my year. February’s track was “Sunflower, Vol. 6″ where I started to feel my attachment to this song. I am not sure if it was the mesmerizing lyrics, the drums, or even the Indian instrument known as a sitar that made me really hooked to this song... But as I walked through the streets of rainy Denver (which would normally make me feel very gloomy), I couldn’t help grinning from ear-to-ear as I listened to this song. It’s the feel-good musical track you listen to, in whatever mood you’re in.

Sometimes I can’t fathom how apocalyptic March felt. The beginning of March was completely normal, and I was at my peak. Looking back now, I can’t wrap my head around that I attended five live shows within one week during that month. But all good things come to an end, right? And of course suddenly, it all came crashing down. I was sent packing up my college freshman dorm and moved back home with my parents while juggling all my courses remotely. There was a song that I was always replaying though, and that was “Golden.” Arguably one of the most upbeat tracks on Fine Line, next to “Sunflower, Vol. 6,″ but the lyrics say otherwise. As the opening track, it has a very chill pop vibe, but listen closely to the lyrics. The contrast pulls at my heartstrings every. single. time.

“Cherry” and April go hand-in-hand for me. As I continued to navigate my thoughts and feelings with the pandemic, struggling with the course load of online courses, and overall the anxiousness of all the unknowns- “Cherry” was the comfort I needed. With its soft acoustic guitar, it is the perfect song for any in-your-feels playlist. And trust me when I say that the fragility of “Cherry” really helped me when I was in my feels.

Arguably the biggest summer hit of this year was “Watermelon Sugar,” and my go-to anthem of wanting to feel any normalcy of a summer that I stayed mostly indoors for. I remember when the music video dropped in May, I was grabbing coffee with a friend and begged her to watch the video with me. We sat in her car in the middle of a park, watching the YouTube video count down to the premiere of “Watermelon Sugar”. That “this video is dedicated to touching” opening message made me laugh and realized how truly brilliant Harry’s mind is. The warm, very enjoyable tune made this the perfect summer anthem with its really good electric guitar and slide guitar mixed with the horn. It’s the one song that will stay in your head for weeks.

Another song that feels like summer to me is “Canyon Moon.” In the end of June, I went ‘glamping’ (otherwise known as glamorous camping, we stayed in a very nice tiny house in the middle of the most wooded area that Nebraska could get) with my family. It’s a very upbeat song with a nostalgic feel, and the fun instrument rhythms can’t help but make you beam. The song also experiments with a dulcimer; a musical instrument with a long rounded body and a fretted fingerboard played by bowing, plucking, and strumming. I think this is what makes the song more upbeat and happy, especially the beginning as well as the slide guitar giving it unique sounds throughout. It personally is one of my least favorites on the album, but it does make me think of warm summer days and spending time with family every time I do listen to it.

July was starting to feel a little rough for me again. I was really getting tired of staying indoors and barely seeing any of my friends. I was really longing to go back to school and being around my people again. “To Be So Lonely” was a song that felt like it really understood me. Harry revealed in an interview with Rolling Stone that the song was composed on a guitalele, which resembles the sound of guitar, for that light and upbeat tone that the chords give off, backing the lyrics. It’s the perfect song you listen to when you’re sad, and you’re ready to push past it. And I knew that I was ready to push past my sadness because I had one more month until I was surrounded in community.

“Adore You” was the second single of Fine Line that was released. This song is filled with so much love and passion- and it was the same immense feelings I had in August when I got ready to move back to my college town and see all my friends again. As I packed my bags and moved into my sorority house, I constantly played this song. What can I say? This was a really great song to vibe with, especially with the opening keyboard and the consistent bass that you cannot help but groove to!

Out of all the months of this year, surprisingly September was one of my darkest. With only two weeks living into my sorority house, I made the decision to move out for the safety of mine and my family’s health. I moved back in with my parents again during this month, and I felt completely lost. “Falling” had the same underlying message of being lost. This love ballad displays a theme of brokenness and creates a tone of unhappiness- the perfect song for a post-breakup or an in-your-feels playlist. I had this song on repeat more times than I can count- the soft piano setting a broken and lonely tone.

The beginning of October began to really turn around for me. I moved into an apartment with one of my best friends and I was back in my college town. I was starting to find community again and “Treat People With Kindness” became this month’s anthem. Coined after Harry’s Treat People With Kindness (TPWK) campaign, this song has a 1970s sound and makes you want to dance along with the catchy choir lyrics such as “Maybe we can/Find a place to feel good/And we can treat people with kindness”. The lyrics were very prevalent in my life, especially with the amping news of the presidential election and the continuation of the pandemic. This song was the best reminder to be kind to myself, and those around me. And let’s not forget the conga sound throughout! I believe Queen would have been very proud of this underrated track.

The timeless mature sound of “She” could have not fit November anymore. I celebrated my twentieth birthday this month (which of course included a Harry Styles themed birthday party with my roommate and some close friends). The guitar kicking in at the chorus giving so much emotion to Harry’s voice, and that’s exactly how I felt around my birthday. Lots of emotions. Not to mention, the guitar solo played by Mitch Rowland sounds like it could have been something that was released years ago, with a little modern touch. It’s growing to be one of my personal favorites on the album.

Lastly, we get to December and I felt as if this year was the longest year of my life (but also flown by way too quick). The song that resonated with me most this month was “Fine Line,” the last track of the album (and the longest at 6 minutes and 16 seconds). My favorite memories in December consist of driving around with my friend, looking at all the Christmas lights as we drink hot cocoa and blast “Fine Line”- singing our hearts out to the repetitive lyrics of “we’ll be fine line” and “we’ll be alright.” Harry discussed in an interview with Capital FM that this song would always be the last on the album, and how fitting that I resonated with this song most in the last month of the year. “Fine Line” represents the ups and downs of life, and the thin line that separates the two. This song that includes an orchestra, drums, horn, acoustic guitar, and melodies building in the background, it could not be the most perfect finale to the album- and to the year 2020.

Today is December 13, 2020- exactly one year after Fine Line has been released. Since then, Harry Styles has made headlines from petty to political. He has shown up for Black Lives Matter, cared for our sleeping habits by releasing an audio bedtime story, made us feel confident in wearing whatever we want as he appeared as the first solo male on American Vogue- all while accomplishing some of his greatest achievements with this album: releasing five music videos, being nominated for three Grammys, and climbing the music charts and catching the hearts of critics.

But Harry accomplished something even greater- he made an album that made us feel good when it was nearly impossible to. To put it frankly- Fine Line was my comfort album, and I know that it was a lot of other people’s too. And as we step into the new year, with the help of this album, it does in fact feel like... we’ll be alright.

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