#the audience for this fic even among fans of the show would probably be. Small fdkasfjldasjf | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silkling · 3 years

Note

Au prompts

No rush, just throwin some thoughts out

I really like your falsely accused au, any more of that would be consumed as if it were the finest chocolate

(More g1 ish) Prowl is SpecOps in some way not just a strat-tac mech (love me some BAMF Prowl)

Prowl has a secret identity, and his pseudonym is that of a reknown orchestral composer. Meanwhile Jazz thinks Prowl knows jack sh*t about music....maybe Prowl writes him a symphony as a surprise anniversary (could be bonding or maybe a post war milestone) gift? (This is indulgent fluff of mine that i think about but never actually write XD)

No worries, friend! The falsely accused AU will return soon! I’m debating whether I should make a long fic for the next reveal or keep it short like I did the first one. I plan to have things in this AU change the canon at large, so prepare for that. :P

As for your other prompts, how about I mash ‘em together? :D

———————————————————————————————————

Prowl hadn’t always been involved in battle tactics. When he’d come online, he had realized that his tac-net was good for organizing and structuring and controlling anything large and complicated. Most bots assumed that meant a battlefield, or something else to that degree. It was why he’d initially joined the Praxus Enforcer Corps. He had excelled there, and his tac-net had helped him cut crime rates down to a tiny fraction of what they’d once been. But…after he’d done that, and his programs and procedures were in place and settled, things had calmed and he’d had nothing to do. He had hated it. So, in an effort to break up the monotony, he’d gone to view an orchestra performance. After that, he’d been hooked. He’d watched the conductor control and guide the flow of the music and the musicians, and his processor had roared to life.

The next day, he’d handed in his formal resignation from the Enforcers, and had been allowed to leave with full honors. His Chief knew he hadn’t been happy, knew he’d been stagnating. Highwire had only wished him luck before she’d sent him off. Then, Prowl had devoted himself to music. He learned all he could, and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he’d managed to work his way from a music writer, to a small time musician, to a small time conductor. And then he had had his first show as a proper orchestra conductor, small and non-essential as it was, and his tac-net had settled and quieted, it’s systems purring as it allowed him to direct the flow of the orchestra with perfect precision. He hadn’t known at the time, but his show had been watched by one of the most well-known and oldest conductors on Cybertron. After his show, Treble had approached him and introduced himself, and offered to take Prowl on as a protege.

He had agreed, and his next show had been bigger. He’d written the music himself, the orchestra he was conducting was much larger, and Treble had used his vast influence to promote it. That was the first time he’s taken to the stage as Baton. He had decided shortly after he’d begun training under Treble that he didn’t want to use his real name when on stage. He enjoyed his privacy, and if all of Cybertron knew Prowl as a conductor he wouldn’t get much peace. So, on stage, he was Baton, and as Baton he also used a temporary paint to change his colors and used some fabric to drape over shoulders and hips. It was enough to disguise him.

And to his delight, his first show had been a massive hit. His tac-net had enjoyed this even more, the larger scale giving him more to work with, more to control and direct, and he reveled in it. Then, after the show, Treble had revealed to the audience that Baton had written all the music that had been played that night, and with that single performance his career was set. Over the following vorns, he’d grown more and more popular, and he’d eventually finished his tutelage under Treble. As time passed, he’d quickly become the most well known conductor on Cybertron. His orchestra had grown too, and had become known as the largest on the planet. Prowl, or rather Baton, led a orchestra of over a thousand mechs and femmes through songs he himself wrote. He had loved every minute of it.

Prowl wasn’t an emotional mech. In fact, emotion was something he struggled with. He thrived on order and structure, and emotions were not organized or structured, but music…music was. And music was also emotional. Through music, he had been able to give his emotions the order and structure he desperately needed in order to express them properly. Prowl had loved his life as Baton. It wasn’t grand, and he didn’t serve much of a higher purpose, but he brought joy to his orchestra, and to his audience, and for him that was enough.

But then…the whispers started. Now, Prowl wasn’t a fool. Most mechs who hadn’t been involved in the inner workings of Cybertron would claim that Megatron had risen from practically nothing and started the war on on his own. He knew that wasn’t true. Megatron had risen from a well-established foundation, a foundation that had built itself long before he gunmetal warlord had even given thought to revolution and war. No, the war had started millennia before the rise of the Decepticons. It had started on the quiet whispers among the lower castes, it had started on the stirrings of the beaten down and the starving. It had started at the rising tide of outrage and horror in face of the Senate’s cruel and extreme punishments for any tiny hit to their authority. It had started in the discontent at the tighter and tighter stranglehold the Senate had began to employ as they grabbed for and more power for themselves, and more and more of the mechs in lower society suffered and died. No, the war didn’t start with Megatron. Megatron was merely the catalyst. If he hadn’t come along and done what he had, Prowl had no doubts that a full scale revolt would have occurred. The fuel for the war had already soaked into the roots of Cybertron. Megatron had only been the spark that lit the blaze,

Prowl had heard the whispers, the growing discontent. He’d seen how the civil unrest got worse with each passing stellar cycle. He knew it was only a matter of time before something in his life changed again. So, when Covert approached him, he hadn’t been surprised. She told him she was the head of an independent group of Special Ops bots, unaffiliated with any political group and who worked only to keep Cybertron as a whole safe and stable. They weren’t much liked by the Senate, since they were not under any mech’s control, but the Senate also couldn’t do anything about them since, apparently, the group had been operating as they had since before the Senate itself had even existed. Covert had told him she’d seen some of his shows, seen the way he directed the orchestra, and she had dug in and found his public records as Prowl. She’d read about what he’d done as an Enforcer, had read about what information there was available on his tac-net, and realized she needed him. She told him that the civil unrest was growing worse, that things were even more dire than they appeared on the surface. That she wanted him to join her, to train him as an agent and a spy, and she wanted him to use his tac-net and his other abilities to help keep Cybertron safe.

Prowl had floundered. He understood why she was doing it. His logic centers agreed that her points were sound, that it would be best for everyone’s future if he went with her. His tac-net ran probability outcomes, spitting out percentages at him of what would happen if he accepted her offer, what would happen if he didn’t, what would happen if the unrest grew to proper war and what would happen if war could not be contained or controlled. The numbers weren’t good. His logic centers had screamed even louder at him to accept. His emotional cortex had protested. He didn’t want to leave his orchestra, his music. But…he was needed. As much as he loved what he was now…he couldn’t let others suffer if he had a way to help. So, with a heavy spark, he had taken her hand.

The next day had come, and Prowl had announced to the world as Baton that he was temporarily leaving the music scene. Baton was having issues with his health, and until they were resolved he would not write music or conduct again. And so with the well-wishes of fans and his musicians alike, Baton faded into the background of Prowl’s spark, and Operative had taken his place. Once again, he had had to disguise himself. This time, he’d taken more permanent measures, a dark blue visor and a battle mask that covered the lower half of his face. A radical paint change, and even alterations to his armor itself to make him sleeker and slimmer. Covert herself had trained him, and shortly thereafter he had gone on his first mission. Prowl had found he had a natural aptitude for spy work. He was small, quick, and stealthy, and he had a knack for processing, deconstructing, and disseminating information. It didn’t take long for him to become known as one of the most accomplished SpecOps agents on the planet. It also wasn’t long before he took his first life. He still remembered that mech’s face. It haunted him, in ways his subsequent kills didn’t. After that, he had also been sent on the occasional assassination, though his work as a spy always came first.

And then, just has he had predicted…war.

It had erupted swiftly and violently, and it wasn’t long before his unit had been forced to make a choice. Most of the agents had allowed themselves to be folded into the ranks of Autobot SpecOps. Prowl, or rather Operative, had not. He had continued to act independently, knowing that if he joined the Autobots officially and his affiliation was known in the event of possible capture by Decepticons, it would make things worse, so he’d remained officially neutral. Though, most of his work had been for the benefit of Cybertron’s neutrals and civilians, with information tossed to the Autobots occasionally.

It was his acting in this way that allowed him to prevent a larger tragedy from occurring in Praxus. He had had to fight Soundwave to get to the information, and he’d taken out all the mech’s cassettes and shattered his optics in the resulting fight, and he had managed to get the information about the attack on his home city. He hadn’t been able to stop it, but he’d sent the information along with a warning ahead to the city itself and to the Autobots. It had allowed Praxus to evacuate all its Youth Centers and even a fair amount of its civilian citizens before the city was destroyed. He hadn’t been able to save his home from being razed to the ground, but his actions had saved the next generation of Praxus’s children.

It was shortly after that that Covert, now head of Autobot SpecOps, had approached him again. The head of the Autobot Tactical Division had recently been offlined, and the faction was starting to buckle and struggle in their fights. Prowl had known what he had to do. So, once more, Operative had retreated to the shadows of his spark, and Prowl had stepped forward as himself for the first time since his days as an Enforcer. Covert had taken him directly to the Prime, where she’d laid out his life story and explained the situation. Together, the three of the, had created two files for him. One, that detailed his life as Prowl and as an Enforcer, and everything he’d accomplished as one, which would be open for public access. The other, which contained the life he’d lived and the things he’d done as Operative, would only be a accessible to Prime and himself, and the head of SpecOps with previous permission from the Prowl of Optimus. Baton would not be put into any files at his request, since at the time he’d been a civilian. He wanted to keep his happiest times to himself.

And then, Covert had been offlined in a mission, and her second in command had taken her place. That was when Prowl had met Jazz. Their initial meeting had been….less than stellar.

(“So, yer the head of Tactics? Gotta say, I’m surprised an Enforcer managed to do anythin’ worth much to a military group like this one. Didn’t think workin’ petty criminals on the streets would translate to bein’ able to lead proper soldiers.”

Rage, quick and burning.

“And I am surprised a mech as carefree as yourself is capable of leading a group like SpecOps. Doesn’t that require delicacy?”)

After that, their relationship had been…rocky. It didn’t help that Jazz couldn’t access Prowl’s sealed file. Not that the mech necessarily knew the file was about Prowl, he just knew it involved the tactician in some way. Still, it had taken them a few vorns before they’d been able to patch up their relationship and work things out. And after that point…things had simply grown. Prowl had come to realize that Jazz was an easy mech to get along with. He was pleasant and adaptable, and he didn’t push beyond the Praxian’s comfort zone. He was also fiercely intelligent, and Prowl had been delighted to learn that the saboteur was actually a rather brilliant tactician in his own right. In fact, because Jazz understood emotions and the inner workings of a bots’s mind better than Prowl, it wasn’t uncommon for him to go to the Polyhexian for advice on his plans if he felt it was needed. It was also why he never took it too personally if Jazz ever criticized his proposed plans in meetings.

Things had kept moving forward, and forward, until…

(“Ya look real pretty under the stars, there, Prowler.”

“I believe I told you not to call me that.”

A frame, settling next to him.

“Ain’t gonna stop me, mech.”

“No, I suppose not.”

Silence, then a breath.

“Can I kiss ya, Prowl?”

More silence. A huff, and a smile.

“I would like that very much, Jazz.”)

Their relationship had taken work. They had been friends first, which certainly helped, but they were both mechs of secrets. Jazz’s secrets were a byproduct of his work, and Prowl’s a byproduct of his life. It had taken time for them to accept and understand that some such secrets are okay. Eventually, they had worked it out, and their bond had only grown. Prowl was startled at just how easy it was to love Jazz, just how easy it was to give his spark to the other mech and not fear it being hurt. Jazz was…a soft lover. He was gentle and doting and so tender it almost made Prowl ache. One of his favorite things was curling up into Jazz’s chest, the spy’s hands smoothing over his doorwings as they simply enjoyed each other’s closeness and affection.

It was peaceful. A type of peace he hadn’t known since before Operative. Perhaps, one he’d never really known at all. They were strong together, with Prowl as the Autobot SIC and Jazz the TIC. They had the trust of their Prime, and the respect of their soldiers. The Decepticons hadn’t had the upper hand in centuries. So, their next step was only logical, given how rare joy was in these days, and how little they knew of the certainty of their own future.

(“My Spark and your spark, forever as one.”

“Bonded together, until the stars wink out and the world collapses.”

“In this life and the next, I am yours, as you are mine.”

“For all of eternity, I shall remain at your side, and you shall remain at mine.”)

They bonded. Under the eyes of Optimus and with the approval of their Prime, they bound their very sparks, tying themselves together for the rest of time. They had asked to keep the information secret. Only the Officers on Optimus’s personal team knew. And so that way they stayed, until the war forced them from their home. Prowl hadn’t ever expected to wake, after the crash. But he did. And Jazz, too. Everyone had. So, the war continued, only now it was on a small organic planet rich with energon. Prowl was only slightly surprised that the scale and brutality of the war was much, much less here.

But then….things went wrong. They had been on Earth for several of the planet’s years when the DJD had come. Apparently, they were only there to drop off a traitor for Megatron to deal with. But then Tarn had decided he wanted to do his Lord one more favor, and…Jazz’s team had been captured on a supply run. The rest of the base quickly gave up hope. No one wanted to fight the DJD, and even if they did no one was sure there was even anything left of their comrades to rescue. Prowl knew, though. He still felt the echo of Jazz’s spark brushing his.

So, for the first time in mega-cycles…Operative roared to the forefront. Prowl returned to the room he shared with Jazz, opening the secret compartment behind his desk that not even Jazz had been aware off. In it, was everything he needed to become Operative again, as well as anything he had kept that had to do with Operative as a whole. He removed the visor from its case, clicking it onto his face, and his battle mask slid out in three pieces from the armor at his chin and cheeks to cover his mouth and nose. He grabbed the pain from the small compartment, covering his current colors in quick, sure movements. Then, he put everything back and retreated to the shadows, leaving the base and driving off.

He knew where the DJD’s ship was. He knew how they operated. They wouldn’t take Jazz’s team to Megatron until they had worthwhile information to go along with it. He also knew that Tarn was the only one who was on board, having done preliminary probing earlier that day. Now, it was time to act. He drove in silence, until he finally arrived at his location. It didn’t take him long to find a way into the ship. It was one of the external vents, usually used for pumping contaminated air out of the ship. If he was careful, he could force it open and sneak in.

Once he had entered the ship, he stuck to corners and shadows, doorwings angled upwards and sensors dialed up to their max in order to pick up the minute charge that signaled where any cameras were. Using that, the was able to avoid detection, until he got to the brig. He saw the team there, but more importantly, Jazz was there. They were all a little roughed up, and he knew he had to hurry. He had already sent a short message back to base informing them of his mission and telling them to come for retrieval. He knew he’d get into some trouble for his rogue actions, but at the moment he didn’t care.

Looking over the team, he realized his initial plan wouldn’t work. He had hoped to sneak them back through the ship, but they were all injured in some manner or another and he could tell they wouldn’t be able to pull their processors together enough to be as stealthy as they needed to be. Which left Plan B. Explosives. He pulled one of his favorite explosive disks from his subspace, setting the timer and sticking it to the far wall of the brig. He activated it, then hurried to open the cell door. At his reveal, three sets of tired optics locked onto him. Immediately, recognition flickered. They knew Operative from the stories, even if none of them had ever met him in person. He was a SpecOps legend, after all.

He gestured quickly, making a motion to where the explosive was ticking, and hurried in to help Jazz up. He was the most injured of the three, and Mirage quickly moved to his other side to help keep the saboteur steady. The four mech group hurried as fast as they were able out of the cell, and the explosive went off. It took out the ship wall, and then they were dragging themselves to freedom. The impact with the ground was rough, and he knew their time was limited. Tarn would be coming to investigate soon, and he had to buy time until the retrieval team arrived. He managed to get the three SpecOps mechs settled against a large boulder, just as he heard heavy pede steps approaching behind him.

He straightened, turning around and lifting his gaze to meet Tarn optics-to-visor.

“So,” Tarn hummed, tilting his head. “The fabled Operative makes his return. You know, it was always assumed you’d perished before the war left Cybertron.” He said smoothly.

He said nothing, expression unreadable behind mask and visor. His posture gave nothing away, either. Under the light of the sun, his deep blue and burnt copper colors seemed to absorb the light. His wings were held at a neutral angle, though they were tilted just so to pick up any signals or changes in the air. His hands were folded behind his back, and he merely stared at the larger mech in front of him.

There was a long beat of silence, and then it was broken by the sound of approaching engines.

Neither mech looked away.

He heard the sound of transformation behind him, and heard Ironhide’s gruff voice speaking to the three downed Autobots. It was as he heard movement indicating they were being pulled away that Tarn finally shifted. It drew the attention of the retrieval team, who up to that point had been more focused on getting their comrades to safety and had been ignoring the SpecOps mechs attempts to make them look at the other two bots present. He could feel the static of Ironhide’s surprise on his doorwing sensors, and he heard Hound let out a frazzled exclamation of surprise.

“Who-“ Ironhide’s began, but Jazz was the one who cut him off.

“Operative. That’s Operative.”

“Who?”

“The greatest spy Cybertron has ever known.” Tarn said, voice oily and dark. “Responsible for revealing Senator Crankshaft’s illegal activities, for breaking up the slave trading ring in Uraya, and most known for stealing the information from the Decepticons that allowed Praxus to save its Sparklings and Younglings.”

There was silence, before Trailbreaker’s voice could be heard. “Holy scrap, one mech did all that?”

“That, and much, much more.” Jazz spoke, voice rough. “Operative is a legend, ‘Hide. And he may not be one of ours, but he is on our side.”

At that, he merely dipped his head in acknowledgment of his bonded’s words. He still didn’t remove his gaze from Tarn.

“Well, and enlightening as this was,” Tarn spoke, taking a step towards the Autobots. “I’d like my prisoners back now, though I certainly wouldn’t mind bringing more Autobot helms to my Lord.” he all but purred, one servo lifting.

It was then that he moved. The Praxian flared his wings, and the armor in his back shifted and made way for hidden boosters. They flared to life, and he sped forward faster than anyone could react, grabbing a length of metal wire from his sub space as he blurred towards Tarn. He snatched the ‘Con’s wrist, dropping his weight down to force Tarn over, and as he moved he slid between the larger mech’s legs while looping the wire around the caught wrist. In the same movement, he slammed his other elbow into the back of Tarn’s knee, forcing it to buckle, and then he twisted and threw his weight, tossing the purple mech to the ground with a heavy, hard impact.

Before he could move, he was rolling on his heels, a wrist flicking and sending a sharp knife into his palm from the sheath hidden in his forearm, and he used the hand still holding the wire to quickly loop the rest of its length around Tarn’s neck. Hand freed, he grabbed the arm the Decepticon was trying to use to get up, twisting it and forcing him onto his front with one arm trapped under his own weight, and pressed a knee to his spinal strut. He finished it by pressing the tip of the sharp blade to the back of Tarn’s head, right into a chink in the heavy armor and against the fragile protoform underneath. Like this, it would be all to easy to force the blade forward and straight into Tarn’s processor. It would kill him in an instant, and it was a maneuver he could pull off before Tarn would be able to throw him off, since positioned like he was, he could feel every shift and tense in the larger mech’s frame. The whole thing had taken barley 10 seconds.

“You will be taking no prisoners today.” he said tonelessly. “You will leave. I will not hesitate to offline your should you attempt otherwise.”

There was silence, and then a low chuckle rose from the trapped ‘Con. “My, I am surprised. It’s been a long time since I’ve been so soundly beaten. It seemed rumors of your skill weren’t exaggerated. Though, what can I expect, from the mech who offlined Sentinel Prime?”

He pressed the knife down harder, engine rumbling in warning as he tried to ignore the gasps from the Autobots behind them.

Tarn clearly got the message. “Alright, little mech. I’m leaving.” he agreed.

He stayed where he was for only a moment, then shifted off the larger mech. As Tarn stood, the blade flashed around him to slice through the wire, and then Operative was moving away.

“Go.” the spy stated, voice cold.

Tarn only chuckled once more, turning a speculative look on to the group in front him, before he boarded his ship. A few moments later, it took off.

“Did you really offline Sentinel Prime?” It was Hound.

He turned, then tilted his head. “I did.”

“Why?” Mirage’s voice was rough, his tone demanding.

“Sentinel was corrupt.” To everyone’s surprise, it was Jazz who spoke. “He not only was aware of the Senate’s actions before the war, he approved and even took part himself. He let the power of the Matrix and the Primacy go to his helm, and he stopped protectin’ and leadin’ Cybertron like he should’ve.” he rasped. “Prime told me. He said Sentinel’s death wasn’t the tragedy the media made it out to be. The Matrix showed him some o’ the stuff the old mech did, and apparently it would be enough to disgust even the Unmaker himself.”

There was shocked silence, and Trailbreaker’s voice was weak. “Seriously?”

“Sentinel Prime was not a true Prime. He was chosen by the Senate and by the Prime before him, not by the Matrix. Before Optimus Prime, there had not been a true Prime since the last of the Thirteen.” Operative revealed.

“How do you know that?” Mirage demanded.

His question was met with a stony silence.

The Towers mech bristled, looking ready to say something else, and then Ironhide’s cleared his throat. “Right. Well. We gotta get these guys back to base.” He turned to the Praxian. “What about you?”

“My mission is done. I will take my leave now.” he said. Then paused. “You will find your second in command back at your base.” And then he slipped backwards into the shadows of a nearby cliff and was gone.

“Wait, how the Pit did he even know it was Prowl who’s missing and sent that message?”

“It’s Operative, Hound.” Skids, the final member of the missing team, sounded tired as he spoke. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he knows every Autobot and Deception secret.”

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

Back at base, the missing team had been patched up and were recovering in the medbay. It was midnight, and Mirage and Skids were deep in recharge. Jazz was not. He was waiting. Soon, a mech slipped from the shadows, blue and copper colors had changed to black and white, and the visor and mask were both gone. Jazz turned to stare are his bondmate approached, his optics unreadable behind his visor.

“So.” he murmured. “Yer Operative. I’m guessing that’s what’s in that file you never let me get into. Did Covert know?”

“She was the one who recruited me.” Prowl answered. His spark felt heavy and he couldn’t meet Jazz’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Jazz hummed, going quiet. “Not gonna lie, Prowler. I’m a little hurt.” he sighed. “But…I get it.” Prowl turned startled optics to his mate. “I’m SpecOps too, remember? I know how important secrets are. Plus, I can understand why you wouldn’t say anythin’. The war needs Prowl the tactician, not Operative the spy.” he mused. “Sure, Operative would help big time, but the Autobots can survive without him, we can’t survive without you, Prowl.”

The Praxian was quiet for a moment, and then his doorwings slumped in relief and he reached out to curl his hand around Jazz’s fingers. “I’m relieved. I was worried you would wish to have nothing to do with me.” he whispered.

Jazz softened. His visor slid away, revealing shining, open optics. “Never, lover.” he purred. “‘Until the stars wink out and the world collapses’, remember? Now pull up a chair and sit. I get the feelin’ you need the closeness as much as I do.”

Prowl did just as Jazz asked, once he’d gotten settled, he folded one arm on the edge of the medical berth, resting his helm on it and once more curling the fingers of his other hand into Jazz’s.

That night, the two bonded mechs recharged just like that, assured once more of their love and devotion for one another.

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

A couple weeks later, and Jazz had been released from the medbay, given strict orders to finish his recovery in his room. He was on medical leave until such time that Ratchet said otherwise. Prowl had an plan, though. The anniversary of their bonding was today, and he knew his mate loved music of all kinds. He was ready to share his final and more treasured secret with the spy. But he wanted to do more than just tell him the truth. He wanted to show Jazz exactly how much he meant to him. He had a plan for that. He had spent the past many, many days writing a piece of music for the first time since he’d been forced to leave his life as Baton behind. Once he’d finished, he’d just needed a way to play it.

He didn’t have a Cybertronian orchestra, and the few Cybertronian instruments available wouldn’t be enough for a piece of this scale, which left…an Earth orchestra. And luckily for him, he knew exactly what do to. A couple years back, Prowl had rescued a famous human conductor, and had offered him a ride to his home. It was on the way he’d ended up revealing he too had once been a conductor, as his spark had been aching to reminisce with someone who understood, and the two had bonded. Zachary, the human, had been ecstatic when he learned that Prowl wrote his own music. He had told that Autobot that if he ever wrote something again, he would be glad and honored to have his orchestra play it.

Prowl had taken him up on the offer the moment he’d finished piece. They had organized it, and Prowl had even written in a piece for a Cybertronian instrument to be included, which he himself would play. It had taken days of practice but Zachary, the orchestra, and Prowl had managed to play the full song. It wasn’t anything like a Cybertronian symphony, but…Prowl had a feeling Jazz would love it all the same. They’d recorded the full piece for Prowl to take with him, and the Autobot had promised to write Zachary a song as well when the human had come to him after the performance, teary eyed and awed.

Now, it was the morning of their anniversary, and Prowl rose first. He had to get to work, but he knew Jazz was still bed bound. He simply wrote quick note, and left his gift on Jazz’s bedside before leaving. All day, his processor raced and raced. Would Jazz like the gift? Would he recognize that it was a Baton piece even if the instrumentation was different? Did he even know who Baton was? For once, Prowl found his work to be lacking, and by the time he was heading back to their room that night his logic center and emotional cortex were clashing horribly.

The door to his room opened as he stopped in front of it, and closed when he stepped inside. Immediately, blue optics slid to the form on the berth. Jazz was staring at him, visor gone and gaze intense. The mech slowly shifted out of the berth, and Prowl was frozen where he stood. Jazz approached him, and then he pulled the Praxian into a hard kiss.

When they separated several moments later, Jazz’s voice shook. “Did you know,” he whispered. “That Baton was my first crush? I saw his first performance, before his name was known to the public and before Treble took him under wing. I’ve loved him ever since. When he took a break, and then the war happened, I always figured he’d been offlined.” he whispered. “Then I met you.” he grinned, his expression so open and adoring it made Prowl’s spark ache. “And you became my first true love.” he leaned in to kiss his mate fiercely more before pulling back. “You know what that means, my spark?”

“What?” Prowl asked, voice soft.

“It means,” He purred. “That I’ve always loved you, since the moment I first saw you, even if I didn’t know you were you.”

Prowl blinked, then laughed, staticky and relieved. “You liked the music, then?” he asked. He hoped Jazz understood what he had been saying with the symphony. He’d written it from the spark.

Jazz just grinned, kissing him firmly once more before dragging him back to the berth. “It was perfect, lover. Just perfect.” he smiled. He got them both settled on the berth, tucked in close to one another. “And Prowl?”

“Hm?”

“I love you too.”

38 notes · View notes

ineffable-endearments · 3 years

Text

Okay. Now I'm going to submit some theories about how I think Crowley and Aziraphale specifically are going to go in the future of Good Omens.

Again, this post is not really...specific theorizing about plot events. It's big-picture stuff.

With that said, this post will get a bit heavy at times, in the sense that it will contain opinions that not everyone will like. It drifted into rambling about queerbaiting and all that stuff. I'm not going to spam anyone's dashboard with drama over it, but it's very possible someone else might try. It's also not really a negative post, depending on what you want to hear, I suppose. But if you're only in the mood to read fluff today, you'll probably want to pass it up.

Oh! Also it's very long, and sexuality is discussed in a vague way that doesn't involve any story elements or body parts.

For starters, I don't think Good Omens 2 - or even 3, if that comes about - is going to have anything explicitly sexual or romantic between the two of them, where "explicit" is things like the characters giving outright definitions of their relationship or outright discussing exactly what goes on between them, either on or off-screen. I also don't think there's going to be kissing or "hooking up" (come on...that person on Twitter shouldn't have even asked). Those actions are too blatant for what Neil has already said about the series. While they technically leave some room for interpretation, they probably don't leave enough.

I DO think it's quite possible other characters will continue to define the relationship FOR them and Crowley and Aziraphale will continue to not deny it.

As far as the queerbaiting debate, "is Good Omens queerbaiting"...it's gonna depend how you define it. I always learned that queerbaiting was basically where the creators intentionally make it look like a character is gay or otherwise queer but then swap that character development out for a cis identity and hetero relationship at the end. The point is that the "bait" leads to queer audiences being actively hurt. That's the behavior that seems awful to me, and I don't see Neil and company doing that.

However, I think it's far and away the most likely option that it will be left up to interpretation whether Crowley and Aziraphale are, you know, a buddy duo or a romantic couple or some sort of ineffable queerness all their own off-screen. So if your definition of queerbaiting is "the characters seem gay to us, but homophobes can tell themselves they're not," then yes, I think that debate will follow us to our graves if we let it.

I am a cisgender, possibly straight (?? demi/bi? I might never find out) woman. There is absolutely no way I could ever tell anybody, ESPECIALLY not gay guys and nonbinary people - the people Crowley and Aziraphale tend to resemble the most - how to feel about their treatment in the story. All I can offer is that I'm one flawed individual and there are things I have the emotional capacity to handle and things I don't. Crowley and Aziraphale as both a canon construct and a fandom pairing mean an absurd amount to me, and I can't hang around in spaces where people are constantly talking about how my own interpretations of them are not enough, or how the story is written with ill intentions. I don't want to stop anybody from venting about it, but I am going to be removing myself from those situations.

I like to imagine 1990 NeilandTerry, or TerryandNeil, as a sort of two-headed God who came up with Crowley and Aziraphale, set them loose on Creation, and now are watching them get up to way more ridiculous stuff in the brains of their fans than they'd ever imagined in the first place. I like to imagine them watching, amused and bemused, as their creations fall in love in thousands of universes, and saying, "Well, we didn't specifically Plan for this, but we did promise free will."

This is psychoanalytical toward a public figure and is therefore a bit dangerous, so please take it with an entire mountain of salt, but I sometimes think perhaps Neil sees some of his and Terry's friendship in Crowley and Aziraphale, and suspect that he wants to reserve the possibility that they could be platonic because he and Terry were platonic, while at the same time leaving room for the fans to have their own interpretations, too. Because if there's one thing that comes up really frequently with Neil, it's his belief in imagination and how much stories matter to people. He can have his little corner of the universe where A and C reflect himself and Terry, and we can have...literally anything we want, as long as we're willing to extrapolate just a little bit from canon. It's not even that much extrapolation! It's just "Yes, they love each other, so what exactly does love mean to you?" and if love means kissing, well then, if we can think it, we can have it.

Given that Neil has written LGBT+ characters before, I think he has non-bigoted reasons for wanting Aziraphale and Crowley to remain undefined, and given even the small chance that those reasons may involve the grieving process for a dead friend, I believe it is unkind to argue with him about it or hold his reputation hostage over it.

With that said, do I want canon kissing/hooking up/all that stuff we put in fics? Listen, I can't deny that I do! Personally, I'd be over the moon. I'd probably be so happy I'd have to go to the hospital to get sorted out. Even the thought of it makes me giddy and light-headed, because that physicality is a part of my own experience of love.

However, there are a lot of people who would feel left behind if that happened. Ace and aro people in the fandom whose love for their friends and partners is just as strong as mine, but who are sex-repulsed or just don't want to see kissing on-screen. The loss of Crowley and Aziraphale as a pairing who are extremely easy to interpret as queerplatonic would be hurtful to them, and I do not want to see them hurt like that. I don't think Neil does, either.

So, once again, the "best for everyone" option becomes a really strong canon relationship based in both narrative function and profound affection, which has genuinely thoughtful queer undertones and leaves open the logical possibility for romantic or sexual encounters but does not insist that they must happen. People, especially fans who are super invested, tend to have an easier time imagining scenarios that take place off-screen (e.g. kissing, sex) than they have erasing scenarios that they've already seen in canon (e.g., if someone wished they could continue viewing it as an ace relationship but they were shown "hooking up"). Also, while relationships are super emotional and extremely subjective, I'd argue that in a long-term adult partnership, the non-sexual connection is more important than the sexual one. As a fan, I'd prefer to extrapolate "they love each other so maybe they'd have sex" rather than "they're sexually attracted to each other so maybe they'll intertwine their whole existences together."

It probably isn't necessary to add, but I will anyway: I'm aware that Good Omens is sort of sacrificing social leverage - the ability to whack homophobes over the head with canon if they try to deny the show's queerness - and is thus not really contributing to making specifically gay relationships more widely seen and accepted. However, I don't think all stories have to invest heavily in every social issue they touch on for them to still be meaningful. I also do think Good Omens is an excellent example of a relationship that is extremely profound without being heteronormative.

I don't think the next season is going to be a rom-com. It will likely not even be a "love story," where the definition of "love story" is "a story that follows the development of a relationship and employs certain plot beats to make its point." Remember that conflicts and breakups are key to love stories, so if it IS a love story, then we're going to have to watch the relationship get challenged in ways some of us might have thought were already resolved in season 1! And while that could be thrilling and ultimately very good, it would also be likely to undercut some of the careful headcanoning and analysis we've already done. Any sequel is going to do that to some degree, but a second love story would probably do it a lot, with interpretations that people are even more protective of.

I'm sort of thinking the next season is likely to be a fantasy-heavy mystery, only because those are the two concepts Neil's introduction led with - an angel with amnesia who presents Crowley and Aziraphale with a mystery. Crowley and Aziraphale's connection to each other can still absolutely be a major theme! It can still be the thread stitching the plot together! It just probably, in my opinion, won't escalate and escalate and escalate like it did in season 1. And it will probably be woven in there among a lot of other plot threads that are, in many moments, louder. Still, I'd love to be left with the impression of these two existences, the light and the dark, subtly becoming more intimate, subtly growing more comfortable in this shared place they've chosen in the universe, gradually starting to behave like they know they aren't alone in the world anymore, all while other things happen to and around them.

Nonsexual physical intimacy - a really great hug, or leaning together on the sofa, or a forehead touch, or something like those, something that could happen in a lot of different kinds of relationships but is undoubtedly based in deep trust and affection and a desire to be close...that's the dream, for me. Oh, how lovely it would be.

Of course, I could be just absolutely, embarrassingly wrong about all this. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

11 notes · View notes

blooddrop-palace · 4 years

Text

Project Updates - What to Look Forward To

<3 Hello all! I've realized (humbly) that I have a small following of very nice people that seem quite interested in what I've written so far, and after seeing some mutuals post update-status posts, I thought I should share what's going on with my projects, also. (Thanks for the encouragement, @queenmuzz!)

Updated Dec-10-20

Sons of Fortune

Probably somehow my main focus now, though I am steadily working on other works. Currently working on the “In Between” special short before I start on Chapter 12.

I would also like to talk a little bit about my plans for this story: if anyone has paid attention to this story's tags, yes, I am touching up on the plots of most of the games. In fact, all of them, and the anime. (I already dealt with DMC4. No, I will not tear apart Fortuna lol.) Not all relevant tags are in, yet, because small spoilers. It looks like it's going to be a long while before I even get to the Temen-ni-gru, though. (There is a reason why that event is getting pushed back.) I want to have fun with the family fluff that is the twins each learning how to parent, first.

Hell Froze Over, and We Shall Reignite It

The drama of it all! Dante and Vergil are finally back from Hell, and Nero doesn’t even know his mother is now standing right in front of him. Meanwhile, even I’m anticipating seen how Snow and Dante is going to handle the obvious things currently unsaid... and I have a feeling a small measure of stupidity is still going to be involved.

Current chapter progress: Outline complete.

It's going to feel so interesting, shifting from "Fortune" back to Reignite. I get to write Sera and Vergil falling in love all over again, with a different set of circumstances. Whoa.

And, and... Nero meeting Sera... odd that I'm saying this as the writer, but I have a "I hope he likes his mom" feeling going on.

Also, no doubt Dante's brain is going to 404 when he sees Snow.

Nico prepares popcorn.

This is Not an Office Rom-Com

I have... about 8 new skits planned out. Nothing more written just yet.

That’s all I’m saying about this for now. =P

Hierarchy of Kings

Purely indulgent M/M romance of Vergil and an OC, existing all thanks to

@wordborne

Working on chapter 2.

I know I said 3 chapters only. I might have lied depending on how much I want to write. It's supposed to be just... awkward fluff of a listless part-devil who somewhat-recently lost his mate, got in a bit of a tiff with his brother, and now his children are trying to set him up with the prospective-king-of-hell, Vergil.

I think about this one a lot but I haven't written anything new for it yet, only because "Fortune" is taking over my life right now, haha.

Through the Lens of the Beholder

Okay, so...This story has no real plot. As a result, my drive for it is purely down to "if I think of a badass or cool photograph to describe." There is a TINY bit of plot. Only a little. And I don't know when I'll update. But this is why I'm trying not to START new projects. Four is a lot already! But because this one is supposed to be simpler than the other two, I will most likely finish this one before the others, so I can open a new project.

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

Speaking of new projects... Here are things ideas bouncing through my head:

- I still have a prompt from @maybeishouldwait sitting in my inbox. I WILL have it done one day, when I find the perfect way to write it.

A whole, entirely royally late set of Dadgil week fics. Yep. I want to write them. They just won’t be on time.

Written in Ink

A plot-less post-DMC5 story.

I say plot-less. There is a plot. The plot is:

Dante: Damn it, Verge, are you trying to turn my office into a zoo??

In which Vergil compulsively starts contracting strong demons he's defeated, left and right, because he's discovered "the joy of pets." The demons all take on a dark animistic form and things get wild.

A Persona and DMC fusion/AU

I have no title for this yet, and I absolutely cannot start this one until I have finished one of my other big projects. This one will take a lot of big planning, because I am making a new plot, using the mechanics of Persona, with DMC characters and setup.

What I want to write, is a teenage Nero as the protagonist, trying to solve a mystery... probably starting with the sudden disappearance of his mother. (Most likely Sera.) And he meets a lot of "new" people, and even finds new family... and yes, he will find his dad. (I'm thinking he'll know about Vergil, though. At least in name and a photo? Isn't that an interesting difference?)

For those of you not familiar with Persona, the major theme I really want to play with is that of the protagonist growing as a person (and in power) by befriending different people that helps them grow as a person. Each party member and important NPC is represented by a Tarot Card, signifying the type of journey the protagonist (The Fool) "embarks" with that character. There is growth in both the protagonist and that characters.

Again, this is ambitious to try and pull off... but it's in the back of my head. I'll focus on it once I've cleared some other stuff.

Sugar Sweet

A somewhat short-chapter series reader fic... of a surgeon/doctor!reader (barely 30 and good at what you do) who often saves the lives of shady people (e.g. mafia) because you care about saving lives, not the politics. But you do make good money out of it. (Hey, you gotta be at least a bit morally ambiguous if you're going to deal with devils.)

You meet one mess of a young mercenary named Dante, who is totally not human and deals with things like having bullets healed into his back, and he can't reach them to cut them out.

Dante doesn't care about bills for his office, or a lot of the debts in his life. You don't know where his money is going, or if he even makes much money at all (for the kind of specialty work he does? Money's going somewhere, but that's none of your business.)

You won't pay Dante's bills, or his debts, but he will accept pizza and ice cream. And new parts for his jukebox. And maybe a motorcycle. Or a new coat. Or a new car...

And you might complain to him about your dumb patients. Or just listen to him talk about his job. Or you two watch a movie together.

And this just continues. For years.

Tokusatsu DMC fusion/AU

So. First thing's first: I'm a big fan of Sentai/Tokusatsu. What is that, you might ask? It's a Japanese genre, and if you're familiar with Power Rangers, that's derived from Sentai.

Basically: Masked heroes with transformation gadgets, sometimes with motorcycles, fighting against evil. ("Magical girls" but strictly the opposite, a lot more physical combat involved, may involve upgrade gadgets, and not strictly limited to male heroes though mostly a male cast. Also not strictly for male-only audience. Girls like the eye-candy, too. :eyes-emoji:)

Why am I thinking about this?

Because I have found out that: Vergil's VA, Dan Southworth, was the Quantum Ranger (WHICH WAS RED). Nero's VA, Johnny Yong Bosch, was a Black Ranger and a Green Ranger.

...And Dante's VA, Reuben Langdon, had a role in a Japanese Toku show as "B-Fighter Yanma" forever ago???? (HE WAS BLUE!!)

What am I going to do with this info? I'll let you know later. But my Sentai/Toku-loving little heart is about to burst with hyperfixation overlap.

If I ever write this out, expect it to be just as cheesy as an actual Kamen Rider show. Or, at the very least, expect some art. I love Kamen Rider stuff!

Family Fantasy MMO

Snow introduces Dante, Vergil, Nero, and Kyrie to Final Fantasy 14 (because that’s the MMO I play) for family bonding. Yep. Mainly for silly indulgence.

Stardew Valley Visit

Post DMC5, Vergil and Dante accidentally end up going on a vacation when they try to leave Hell. No pairing with the farmer, but instead just a relaxing and somewhat introspective moment of the boys being stuck with most of their power temporarily sealed, learning how to take care of a farm, and maybe do a bit of healing by interacting with the townsfolk while they try to find out where their swords went and how to get home.

Re-Colourize

Otherwise what I would call the “re-colour of Nero and Snow” AU.

What if Vergil was found by Kassy’s family and raised among them? What if Dante ended up briefly in Fortuna and then convinced Sera to run away from the island?

What if we have a Nero who, though brash, is outwardly more soft and open-hearted, and has red-orange and gold colours instead? What if we have a Snow who is named Chiyuki, who wields her katana more like Vergil does, and has a more ice-queen aura about her, and has a teal and blue colouring about her?

This is my excuse to switch up the pairings, but also write Vergil being taught to fight more like an assassin.

Raised by the Blade

Imagine: Yamato, cracked, broken, and separated from her Master... desperately searching for a way to get back to him, and ended up washed up on the shores of Fortuna. Humanoid, but clearly not if anyone saw the cracked, broken, and no-normal look of “shattered” in her torso, that she would have to keep covered.

Made from the power of Sparda, she is pale with white hair... and she finds herself drawn to the orphanage...

Where she finds the toddler that is Nero.

Devil Hunters’ Podcast

Nico “accidentally” finds entertainment in recording the Sparda Family arguments as they talk about hunting; after all, they all share one braincell.

Ascended Monochrome

A white angel remains by the side of Nelo Angelo. Mundus was not pleased by the behavior of his second creation, from the human woman that he had picked up with the treacherous Son of Sparda. But he later discovered that by using her, he could keep Nelo Angelo complacent. Eventually, underestimating love will be his downfall.

Fall to Royalty

A story of where Vergil wins against Mundus the first time, and takes the throne of Hell. But what is he to do next? Eventually, ruling Hell seemed meaningless when there was no one by his side, so he goes to seek out the Lady Knight that he had vowed to never think of or go back to unless he had obtained the power he sought.

Doppelganger Woes

So, I heard Capcom retconned Gilver to be some sort of imitation created by Mundus. I’m all for this! And I’m going to DO something with this.

Side-Project: DMC Tarot List

I started on this maybe months ago; and I have a tentative list oh what characters go with what card and a few detailed descriptions. I think I should confer with

@harlot-of-oblivion

at some point about this, and anyone else interested in, well, Tarot stuff.

#devil may cry #fanfiction #Project Update

10 notes · View notes

ranwing · 5 years

Text

KADAM FIC: LEARNING TO FLY (16/?)

Title: Learning to Fly Series: A New Direction (was Season Four Remix) Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Burt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Santana Lopez, Carmen Tibideaux, Cassandra July, Artie Abrams, Tina Cohen-Chang, Elliot “Starchild” Gilbert, Dani, Adam’s Apples, Original Characters Rating: PG13 (rating may change) Genre(s): canon divergence. Parts: 16/?

Summary: As another school year starts at NYADA, Kurt seemed to have it all. The respect of his teachers, a group of wonderful friends and best of all, getting to live with the man that he’d come to love. So of course the universe would throw a few curve balls in his direction.

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen

On AO3

William Schuester rose to his feet and applauded loudly as the members of the cast stepped forward to accept the audience’s regards. He whistled and cheered as Rachel, her face beaming with happiness as she took her bow and gave a quick wave to the audience before stepping back to take her place with the other girls in the ensemble.

He hadn’t been totally sure of what to expect from that afternoon’s matinee performance, but he found himself thrilled and surprised at every turn. What he had seen would have been easily comparable to any professionally staged productions. Everything, from the quality of the acting and singing to the sets and costumes was top notch. The size of the audience filling the theater seemed more reasonable for the performance of famous, established actors than it did a student production.

But it didn’t feel like a school performance. These were all budding professionals, he realized. He probably should not have been that surprised, he considered as other students in the ensemble stepped forward in groups to take their bows. NYADA’s reputation for excellence, along with the very positive reviews that he’d read on the flight from Lima would be enough to ensure that the theater would be filled for the duration of the show’s run. He could only marvel that two of his students had the privilege of being part of a production like this, making it an even more remarkable experience for him.

And it shouldn’t be surprising that NYADA was staging their show in what had to be one of the most beautiful theatrical venues in the entire city, on a stage where some of the finest actors performed on a regular basis. It had to be exhilarating for his former students and he was certain that they truly grasped just what a rare opportunity they had been given at this stage in their careers.

Will had known since the instant he’d first heard Rachel’s voice that she was all but destined for greatness. He had recognized that she possessed a one in a million talent, and that Lima was too small to contain her abilities and ambitions. It was only a mater of time before he knew that she would have found her way to New York and taken her place on one of the great stages. Seeing her here, building her career was just an affirmation of what he’d always expected for her.

Watching Rachel not only playing an ensemble part but doing it with real enthusiasm and cheerfulness had come as a real surprise for him. Back in New Directions, Will could not even begin to count the number of tantrums that she threw any time she felt that one of the others was getting the spotlight that she claimed as her sole domain. Will knew that Rachel could be petty enough to even claim songs, insisting that only she should sing them and would find any excuse possible to ensure that she took center stage at all times.

Will had to admit that seeing her in the ensemble felt a little odd, but it was probably a very good thing for Rachel. He’d always been concerned about how her inability to work as a team player would affect her career aspirations, but apparently NYADA had figured out what he never could. Or rather, what he didn’t make a real effort to resolve with her. It probably didn’t reflect well on him as a teacher, but he’d always found it easier to just give into her demands. It had become second nature to just justify to the rest of the choir, and himself, that she really was talented enough to warrant such favoritism.

In retrospect, it was clear that giving in to Rachel’s unreasonable demands hadn’t benefited her in the long run and it certainly hasn’t been fair to his other students. Kurt had been chief among those who never got the notice that he’d deserved and that was due entirely to Will’s failures. Seeing the young man’s name mentioned in the New York Times and considered a stand out in a cast of excellent performers had come as something of a shock to Will. Especially with Rachel given no individual mention and it felt wrong in some ways. He knew that he wasn’t being fair because he knew that Kurt had talents that he’d barely had the opportunity to tap in New Directions, and he clearly had a chance to grow at NYADA in a way that he never could in Lima.

Will had always expected that Rachel would be the first of their group to find real professional success. When he’d read the reviews praising Kurt’s performance, it had taken him completely by surprise and he wondered how things could have changed since he last saw his former students. He’d heard about Kurt’s roles that past summer and it seemed that Kurt seemed to be racing ahead of his friend and finding stardom far faster than anyone might have expected.

Seeing Kurt performing had not just been surprising. It had been a total revelation to Will and made him really understand just how badly he’d shortchanged so many in his choir. If the changes he saw in Rachel hinted at remarkable personal growth since he last saw her, Kurt had undergone an even more stunning transformation. He seemed to have grown into himself, standing out as a handsome, confident man who was secure in his abilities and well deserving of his moment in the spotlight. Even Kurt’s brief program biography felt a little too much like a rebuke to Will; a carefully worded indictment that while he might have been overlooked in Ohio, in New York he was positively thriving.

Despite how badly he knew that he’d handled Rachel’s out of control ambitions and neglected to nurture Kurt’s in any meaningful way, Will was proud of how far the two of them had come. When it was Kurt’s turn to take his bows with the Friends of the ABC, he cheered as loudly as he had for Rachel. Will was on his feet to give him the ovation that he so richly deserved when Kurt stood alone at the center stage, finally having his very overdue and well-deserved moment in the spotlight.

Once the house lights came on, Will rose from his seat and took a moment to enjoy the reaction of the rest of the audience, seeing a lot of smiles and picking up on excited conversation about the show they’d all just seen. He would have liked to get their impressions about his students and maybe brag a little about Kurt and Rachel, but if he dawdled too long he’d get shut out of seeing the kids at the stage door.

Will smiled with pride when he saw the crowd gathering by the steel barricades, waiting for the performers. He knew that most were probably family of the actors, but there appeared to be more than a few seasoned theater fans in the mix who wanted to offer their personal respects. He was glad that Emma had decided to stay home since there was no way that their son would have been up to dealing with the crowd, but she was sorry to miss this.

It was gratifying to see that the talented students were being regarded so highly, Will thought as he waited for the stage door to open. It was obvious that they were on their way to being future stars of stages all around the world and he was filled with pride that he had some part, however small, in shaping the futures of two of them.

Will fought down a momentary flash of guilt at the reminder that he could claim very, very little credit in shaping Kurt’s future. He knew that he never gave Kurt the credit or focus that he deserved, constantly favoring Rachel, Finn and Blaine over him. As much as it pained him to admit it, he had enough self-awareness to recognize that Kurt’s success was despite him, not due to any influence he might have had. He didn’t even have the courtesy to acknowledge the younger man’s invitation.

At the very least, Will knew that he owed Kurt an apology for that. He would never be able to make up for sidelining him throughout high school, but he could at least let Kurt know that he was proud and happy to see him doing so well.

“Will Schuester… is that you?” a familiar voice asked.

He smiled and turned to see Hiram and LeRoy Berry approaching; Hiram clutching his Playbill like it was something infinitely precious and LeRoy carrying a large bouquet of roses that Will assumed was for Rachel. “Hi! Great to see you both,” he greeted happily, shaking their hands warmly. “Rachel mentioned that you were both seeing the show today.”

“We’re seeing the evening performance too,” Hiram pronounced proudly. “Not that it makes up for missing the opening night performance...”

LeRoy chuckled, patting his husband’s arm comfortingly. “Hiram is still steamed about that,” he confided, his glance to his husband lovingly tolerant.

“Well, it’s not fair that we had to wait when the Hummels were able to get tickets for opening night,” Hiram complained.

“Hiram, you know why,” LeRoy consoled placatingly. “Burt’s a congressman. Having him at opening night to see his son was going to get a lot of press for the school.”

“Well, it’s still not right,” Hiram huffed, refusing to be pacified by his husband’s common sense. “It’s bad enough that Rachel was stuck in a chorus part when anyone can see that she should have been the lead.”

Will frowned, hearing more than a little of Rachel’s previous peevishness in her father’s voice. It was quite clear where she got that unpleasant trait from, he considered.

“Don’t spoil this for her,” LeRoy reprimanded gently. “She’s worked very hard and doesn’t deserve to have you complaining. We both know that she should have been the star tonight, and that’s what matters.”

Okay, maybe she got it from both of them, Will thought. The poor girl wouldn’t have stood a chance with both her parents feeding her ambitions for stardom. As a new parent, he could understand wanting to support his child in all ways, but still…

Knowing that saying anything that might offend the Berrys, even if simply pointing out that their expectations of instant stardom for their daughter were not exactly reasonable, Will held his tongue. Any effort at rationalization, however valid, would only get the two men angry. Rachel had done a wonderful job in the chorus and seemed to have grown tremendously in the past few months. It was obvious that she was benefiting from NYADA’s influence and he couldn’t wait to tell her that.

Strange… he felt an odd prickling between his shoulders, like he was being watched by a malevolent presence. He looked about self-consciously, telling himself that he was being silly. Then he saw a tall figure standing about fifteen feet away from them, waiting with thinly veiled impatience for the stage door to open. His jaw dropped at the realization that he wasn’t the only member of the McKinley faculty to visit New York for this event.

As if on cue, Sue’s head swiveled in his direction, her sharp gaze fixing on him and he felt something inside him shrivel up and trying to die. His soul, maybe? Sue had an uncanny talent for making someone feel about three inches tall, even when they’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.

He tuned out the complaints of the other two men as questions began to ricochet in his brain, with the obvious answers quickly following in their wake. What the hell was she doing here? To see Kurt, of course, because the young man continued to be one of her chosen favorites. Would she say anything insulting to Will? Most certainly, because she was Sue Sylvester. His good mood began to unravel when he saw the familiar cruel smile etch its way across her face and she pushed her way through the crowd to approach them.

“Well, well… if it isn’t the old sexless marrieds and my favorite knife throwing target,” she mused with a sharp edge to her voice. “I was wondering when you’d crawl out of your gopher hole to see Raspberry Junior fading into the scenery.”

“Sue, that was entirely uncalled for,” Will snapped, hoping to head her off before the Berrys totally lost it and he ended up in the middle on an open war. “Rachel did an outstanding job.”

“Yes, she helped make a lovely backdrop for Porcelain,” Sue noted satisfactorily. “Amazing what he’s able to accomplish when he doesn’t have to constantly battle just for the right to survive.”

Will knew well enough to recognize one of Sue’s more subtle insults directed at him, but he couldn’t honestly argue that she was wrong. He had done nearly nothing to support Kurt during the three years that Kurt had been a member of New Directions, ignoring not just the young man’s obvious talent but even his basic well-being and safety far too often. He thoughtlessly filled the choir room with boys that had a history of abusing Kurt and even though Kurt eventually grew close to Finn and Puck, that didn’t change the fact that Will had basically given Kurt no choice but to tolerate his bullies if he wanted to be in the choir.

Adversity that would have crushed most had only made him stronger. Kurt was where he was entirely on his own merits.

“Kurt was spectacular tonight,” he admitted without reservation. “I know that I shouldn’t be surprised because I’ve seen him do some amazing things while he was at McKinley.”

Sue stared down at him but had to grant that he was being truthful, so she didn’t press.

“And I know that he’s going to be very happy to see you,” Will added, hoping to appease her. He could be honest in recognizing that Kurt would be a lot more excited to see Sue than him, especially with how he rudely didn’t respond to Kurt’s invite.

Her returned smile contained entirely too many teeth to be comfortable for him. “Oh Will… you simple wooly-headed muppet… Do you think that I haven’t already seen him?” she asked mockingly. “Or that he wasn’t worth seeing a second time.”

Will felt himself blinking in surprise, hating that Sue always seemed to find a way to get one over on him.

Hiram Berry was listening in on their conversation and couldn’t help from expressing his outrage that another person was considered more important and given the privilege of seeing the show first. “How did you get tickets?” he demanded before turning indignantly to his husband. “Do you see? They’re deliberately sidelining our little girl! I have a mind to call that dean and…”

“Oh, stick it in your purse, Purple Teletubby,” Sue snapped, cutting him off in mid-rant. “It’s about time your pampered little princess learned to take a back seat once in a while.”

“Sue..,” Will tried to insert at seeing the wide-eyed look of shock on Hiram’s face, hoping to head her off before she verbally decapitated the other man even if he thought that the Berrys probably had did have it coming to them.

Sue ignored him, stepping forward and jabbing her finger directly into Hiram Berry’s sternum, causing him to wince and back into his husband. “She should feel grateful to even be standing on that stage. Because the two of you encouraged her to be a self-entitled little brat her entire life, she nearly got herself booted out of this school altogether,” she snapped viciously. “Count yourselves lucky that she didn’t manage to get herself blacklisted from the industry entirely.”

“Sue, that’s enough,” Will insisted. He didn’t know if she was being totally accurate about any problems that Rachel might have had at NYADA since she always painted things in the worst possible light, but the last thing Will wanted was for the kids to come out and see everyone screaming at each other. They worked too hard to deserve that.

Thankfully the Berrys had the sense not to antagonize the fearsome woman and let themselves be distracted by the stage door finally opening and several members of the cast emerging to loud cheers from the waiting crowd. As expected, it was members of the ensemble coming out first, taking a brief moment to thank the fans. Will smiled as he saw excited family members calling out to the actors, with students rushing over for embraces and praise. They were soon surrounded by delighted chattering as parents and their children babbled happily before the families started to drift away to enjoy their brief reunions before the kids were due back for the evening performance.

“There she is!” LeRoy exclaimed, pointing at the door where Rachel was stepping out with several other girls. She looked tired but elated, chatting happily, chatting happily with the other girls in a way that Will could never recall her doing before. However friendly she might be with the other girls back in New Directions, they were rivals first and foremost. She was never happy unless the other girls in the group acquiesced to her demands. Her behavior with these girls seemed much more at ease and that of equals, the way he would expect genuine friends to be acting.

Rachel hugged her friends, letting them go to meet with their own families and looked about for her own parents in the teaming crowd. Hiram pushed his way past Sue and Will to rush to the front of the barricade.

“Baby! Over here!” he called out, waving his arm excitedly. “Rachel!”

Their daughter’s expression brightened even more at seeing him and she hurried over. “Daddy!” she cried out, throwing herself into his arms.

LeRoy rushed over, handing the flowers to Will to hold and wrapping his arms about the two of them. “There’s our girl,” he laughed, squeezing them both.

She craned her head around so she could look at both her fathers. “So, what did you think?” she asked with a brilliant smile.

“You were amazing, baby,” Hiram assured her. “Absolutely amazing.”

“You would have made a wonderful Eponine,” LeRoy insisted, taking the roses back to give to his daughter. “It’s a shame that they didn’t see how perfect you’d be.”

Next to him, Will saw Sue roll her eyes in exasperation and for once he agreed with her. The Berrys really had zero sense of proportion.

Rachel just laughed, cradling the flowers in her arms and apparently not taking her father’s statement too seriously. “Oh, I will one day,” she promised with a grin. “But it was so interesting to see a production from that angle. I learned so much and let’s face it… I got a lot more stage time than either of the leads.”

“Well, you were spectacular,” Hiram praised, reluctantly releasing his daughter. “A total stand-out.”

LeRoy nodded in agreement, keeping a lovely arm about his husband. “And look who else is here,” he urged, motioning in Will’s direction.

“Mr. Schue! You made it!” Rachel exclaimed happily, bouncing over to hug him with her free arm.

“Hi Rachel,” he greeted warmly. “That was such a fantastic show! You all were wonderful.”

“Thanks,” she accepted cheerfully. “I’m so glad that you got to see it. We’re really proud how it worked out.”

She turned to the tall woman standing behind will, her eyes widening in surprise. “Coach, we weren’t expecting to see you,” she said politely.

Sue looked down her nose at the petite girl but answered with clear forced politeness. “I wanted to see the show one more time before I fly out tonight,” she explained. “After all, I need to make sure that Porcelain isn’t slacking off.”

Rachel couldn’t help from chuckling. “Well, Kurt will be out in a few minutes,” she assured the prickly coach. “I know that he’s going to be thrilled to see you again.”

She turned to Will with a bright smile. “Wasn’t Kurt amazing?” she asked. “I’m totally biased, but I think he was the best in the show.”

Will nodded, not hesitating to give praise when it was due. “He really was,” he agreed. “I can’t believe how much the two of you have grown in the past year. I am so happy to see that you’re both doing well.”

“We thought that we’d steal you away for an early dinner before the evening show,” LeRoy proposed to his daughter, clearly leaving no room for Rachel to protest. “We made reservations.”

“You can bring your friends if you want,” Hiram added, as if their plans needed any further sweetening to entice their daughter to comply. He looked to Will and invited, “We’d love to have you join us. I’m sure you and Rachel would like to catch up.”

Will smiled appreciatively but shook his head. “I appreciate the invite, but I’m afraid that I need to head back to the airport in a little while to make my flight home,” he explained. “I have to be at work tomorrow, so I had just enough time to see the show.”

“You are staying long enough to see Kurt, aren’t you?” Rachel all but pleaded. “He’s going to be out soon and he’ll be so disappointed if he misses you.”

Behind him, Will could all but feel Sue bristling and knew that if he even considered for a second running out without seeing her favorite, she would break both his legs before he could make it across the street.

“I wouldn’t think of it,” he assured her with a warm smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing him.”

The crowd cheered loudly as several of the principle players began to emerge from the theater, taking a moment to give the fans their appreciation and signing a few autographs before finding their own families. Kurt stepped out with the second group of performers, dressed far more causally than Will could ever remember seeing him and looking tired and pleased.

He paused to chat with an older couple, accepting their accolades while signing their program and then let several of his friends in the cast introduce them to their families. Will felt himself smiling, seeing how at ease Kurt was. He knew many adults that wouldn’t be as composed as Kurt was having so much attention focused on them.

“Kurt!” Rachel called out, waving to get his attention. “Over here!”

Kurt heard her and glanced over his shoulder, smiling and giving a brief nod to let her know that he’d heard her before turning to some theater fans that wanted to offer their regards. Rachel knew well enough that Kurt respected his audience too much not to give them his full attention, which they clearly appreciated. Once he’d signed a few more autographs and touched base with a few friends, he headed over to Rachel.

“Hey,” he greeted, giving her a quick hug and kiss to her cheek. He saw the adults who had been standing at the barrier and moved to greet Rachel’s fathers politely. At seeing his former teacher, the young man’s smile faded for a brief microsecond.

“Hi, Mr. Schue,” Kurt said with an air of casual cheerfulness, though Will could detect a trace of reservation coming form the young man. He winced internally, knowing that Kurt’s lack of sincere enthusiasm at seeing him wasn’t unwarranted.

“I hope that you all enjoyed the show,” Kurt said politely, curious to get their reactions.

“Oh, it was marvelous,” Hiram insisted enthusiastically, his hands supportively on his daughter’s shoulders. “The only thing that would have made it better would be Rachel playing Eponine.”

“Dad!” Rachel admonished, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She clearly recognized that her father was out of line but apparently had decided that trying to moderate her parent’s behavior was a lost cause.

LeRoy had the courtesy to remember praising the younger man’s performance as well. “You were phenomenal, Kurt,” he said sincerely. “I can’t remember ever seeing Enjolras played with such nuance.”

Rachel hugged her friend’s arm again to keep him close. “That’s why the critics loved him,” she claimed, causing Kurt to blush furiously.

Kurt looked to Sue, who was watching him with an amused smile. “Did you enjoy the show again?” he asked curiously.

She sniffed imperiously. “At least the caterwauling kept me from dozing off,” she complained blandly. “But I’m glad to see that you were performing at the level I expect from you.”

Kurt nodded in satisfaction, knowing how exceptional a compliment that was coming from her. “I think I was a little better today,” he claimed. “Now that I’m over the opening night jitters.”

Rachel kissed his cheek. “You were incredible, and you know it,” she teased. “You don’t need to be modest.”

Will looked to his former student, marveling at the changes that he’d undergone over the past year. “Kurt, I can’t begin to express just how brilliant you were,” he said carefully. “I’m very glad that NYADA is giving you everything that you need and deserve.”

Kurt’s eyes softened a bit, his reserve melting just a touch. “Thank you. I really appreciate that,” he answered, seeming to accept the compliment along with the unstated apology that it contained.

Will knew that he owed Kurt a lot more, but this wasn’t the time or place. But there was something that he did need to address. Summoning up his resolve to be a better man that he’d been, he looked to Kurt.

“I do want to apologize for not responding to your invite,” Will added. “That was very rude of me, and just because I responded to Rachel’s doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t have let you know that I was coming.”

Kurt just shrugged, trying to downplay any hurt feelings he might have had over the matter. “It’s all right,” he assured his teacher.

“Well, I want you to make sure that I know when you’re performing next,” Will insisted. “I can’t promise that I’ll always be able to come, but I’d like to have the opportunity to at least try.”

The younger man nodded in agreement. “I can do that,” he said, with a bit more cheer in his voice.

Will held out his program for the two of them to sign, which they did with a bit of giggling and blushing. “I can’t wait to show this off to the group,” Will insisted, tucking the Playbill into his jacket.

“We’re so glad that you came today,” Rachel said, leaning comfortably into Kurt.

“It was my pleasure, and my privilege,” Will claimed with a smile. “I’m really proud of both of you. And I wish that I could stay longer, but if I miss my plane I’m kind of screwed.”

Rachel leaned over to kiss him on the cheek and letting him hug her. “It was so good to see you,” she insisted. “We’re so glad that you were able to come.”

“I’m glad too,” Will claimed with a smile. He turned to Kurt, knowing better than to try to pull him into an embrace. He’d seen Kurt’s angry cat behavior often enough.

“Kurt, I know that we haven’t always seen eye to eye,” Will granted, knowing that Kurt deserved to hear a real apology for many things from him.

Behind him, Sue snorted indignantly but he ignored her reaction. He put his focus on the young man who deserved it far more often than he ever received it.

“I can’t begin to express just how proud I am of you,” Will told him with calm certainly. “You may not have gotten the chances that you should have in high school, but you’re more than making up for that here. And I’m really happy to see what you and Rachel are doing now.”

He held out his hand to Kurt, offering a handshake of peace. He felt a sense of relief when Kurt accepted it in his strong grip and shook Will’s hand.

“Thanks, Mr. Schue,” Kurt answered, his gaze finally softening. “That means a lot to the both of us.”

Will smiled back, gratified that Kurt had such a generous spirit underneath his prickly exterior, because the young man would have been well within his rights to not forgive what he’d endured. That he had made friends of so many who’d wronged him, and that those people who kurt had forgiven were so eager for his regard spoke volumes about the kind of man Kurt was becoming.

Reluctantly, their former teacher stepped back, knowing that his time with them had drawn to a close. “I can’t wait to see what the both of you do in the coming years,” he urged, looking at wonder to the students that he’d made so many mistakes with. Both seemed to have grown past the errors that he’d inadvertently made, and he couldn’t be more pleased for them.

“I hope that the rest of the run goes well for the both of you,” he wished, wiping at his eyes. “You two take care of each other.”

Rachel leaned into Kurt and the younger man placed his arm about her shoulders. “We will,” Kurt promised.

Turning to walk away from his old students was hard, but he felt his heart decidedly lighter. The kids were in as good a place as he could hope for them and he knew with the two of them there to support one another, he didn’t think that there was anything that they weren’t capable of. There would be numerous challenges awaiting them, but he didn’t think that there were two people better capable of facing them than Kurt and Rachel. As a team, they would be unbeatable.

As for himself, he would take the lesson that this visit to New York held for him and take it to heart. He had many talented students in his choir and he had a responsibility to give each of them what they needed to grow and evolve. He owed it to the ones that were currently under his tutelage and the ones that he had ignored in the past.

In the meantime.… he pulled out his cell phone to request a car to take him to the airport. He had a plane to catch.

* * *

Adam rolled over again, readjusting his pillows and trying to get into a comfortable position. It didn’t seem to help, and he leaned up so he could punch the pillow to get it to support his neck better.

Now his sheet and blanket were wrapped about his legs too tightly. And he was too warm.

He kicked the bedding away. The air conditioning made him too cold. Damn it…

Adam sat up, blinking with the realization that he was wide awake. No matter what he tried, he just couldn’t turn his stupid brain off. Looking at his phone, he saw that it was nearly two in the morning and he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. At this rate, he was going to be a total wreak that day.

Niall mumbled in his sleep and with a heavy sigh, Adam got up and reached for his running pants. If he was going to be awake all night, at least he could let his roommate get his rest.

* * *

Monday morning came as a bit of a relief to Kurt. After surviving the opening weekend and the first three performances, the chance to sleep in a little bit was very deeply appreciated. He had no classes for the duration of the show’s run, all their teachers were using their work in the show towards their grades. Given the unusual but deeply appreciated reprieve, Kurt would have a rare few hours to himself before he was due back at the theater.

It had been an amazing weekend and part of him was still having a little trouble grasping that this was all real. The insecure part of his soul still worried that he would wake up and find that it had all just been a dream, but the aches in his body and the admiring smiles he was receiving as he walked through the halls at the NYADA dorm were all too real. Maybe one day he would be able to look at his accomplishments with the knowledge that he was just getting his due, but he wasn’t quite at that point just yet.

Still, after all his hard work the past few days, he thought that he deserved a bit of a treat. Rather than going to the dorm break room for breakfast, he needed a bit of a splurge. And a decent cup of coffee. And some fresh air.

A long jog to stretch out his muscles was just what he needed, his headphones plugged in so that he could listen to something other than his show’s music for what seemed to be the first time in months as he wound his way through the city streets. Passing by a café that he’d often dined at with Adam, he decided to stop for a break and a dose of badly needed caffeine. Sitting in the café’s garden and taking his first sip of a perfectly brewed iced macchiato, he felt his body relax happily. This might be something he’d have to make a habit of, Kurt thought as he perused the menu. With the amount of work he’d been putting in, a few hours of quiet to savor before the rigors of the day would help him tremendously.

While he waited for his order of granola and Greek yogurt with fruit, he had the opportunity to catch up on a bit of social media. Kurt hadn’t really had a time to check in with his friends once the show opened and he figured that, by now, everyone would have found out how the show had gone and he was curious to see their reactions. There were quite a few notifications waiting for his attention and with a smile, he opened his Facebook app.

The first thing he saw on his timeline was a photo that someone, he assumed it was Finn, had taken from the audience of him standing at center stage dressed in Enjolras’s revolutionary costume and holding a prop rifle over his head. Kurt couldn’t help from smiling, knowing that Finn would want to publicize his brother’s success. There were a lot of comments tagging him.

FinnHudson: So… this happened. #Kurt Hummel Satan Lopez: Wanky… Puckzilla: That’s my boy!!!! Rachel Barbra Berry: I know! He was so amazing! Quinn Fabray: OMG! How did you two keep it a secret? Starchild: ?!? I’ll be in my bunk… Dani Kimmel: Okay, I am seriously impressed… SamIAm Evans: On one hand, Go Kurt! On the other, can we talk about how #Finn Hudson actually kept a secret? Mercedes Jones: Aw, Boo! You look so pretty! And we’re gonna talk about you hiding this from me. Artie Abrams: Dayam boy… Dave Karofsky: #Kurt Hummel Wow! Tina Cohen Chang: *claps happily* Can’t wait to see this tomorrow night! Brittany Pierce: #Tina Cohen Chang So jealous!

Nothing from Blaine, Kurt noted, pleasantly surprised. Knowing his ex as well as he did, Blaine’s sole interest in their show would be to make sure that Kurt had accomplished nothing that would infringe on his ex’s sense of superiority. He had no doubt that Blaine would have checked out the reviews, but Kurt having a significant role that had garnered some critical notice would have made it difficult for Blaine to find some way of insulting him without immediately looking like an asshole.

A lot of his classmates and castmates were also posting compliments, and Adam’s cast mates offered their own congratulations. He grinned when he saw Isabelle and Chase adding their own comments, with Chase making his appreciation of Kurt’s tight pants very apparent. Several congratulations were posted by his old castmates from the Shakespeare festival, and Mr. Tillman had made a point to remind Kurt not to bail on them that summer.

There were comments tagging him from people that he didn’t recognize, and it took him a few minutes to realize that some of them had to be people from the audience. Several mentioned the Garrison festival and it was becoming clear that Kurt had a couple of followers.

He sat back in his seat, staring at the phone in his hands and wondered if this was supposed to be how he should feel. It was overwhelming to see that strangers, who had no personal investment in him outside of having sat in a theater while he was performing but still remembered him and thought enough to comment. He felt humbled and thrilled and a little overwhelmed.

Kurt had always dreamed of stardom. Maybe not as fervently as Rachel had, but he’d grown up with fantasies about being an award-winning actor, his face in magazines and on television. He wanted his name to be known to everyone, but this first small taste of fame was a little daunting. If his career progressed the way he wanted it to, this kind of notice was something he’d have to get used to. Kurt realized that he was very possibly reaching people that might be following his work for years. His successes and failures would now be in a public eye and if he didn’t learn to handle it, he would never survive.

He scrolled down the list of comments as he munched on his breakfast, marveling at just how many there were but he knew that he couldn’t allow this to be a distraction. He had a performance to focus on that evening, with an audience that deserved to see his best work. Worrying about anything outside of that would be counterintuitive at best. He’d had a front row seat watching Rachel’s ego get the better of her and the consequences that she endured. It was a fine line between enjoying the attention while not getting his head stuck up his own ass.

He was just finishing his meal and debating ordering a second coffee when his phone rang and Adam’s number flashed across his screen. With a smile, he answered the call, keeping his voice down so he wouldn’t disturb the other diners.

“Hi honey,” he greeted happily, but then remembered the time difference. “You’re up early.”

“I know,” Adam answered, yawning a bit. “I didn’t know what your schedule was today and wanted to catch you.”

Kurt smiled. “I’ve got a bit of time,” he assured the other man. “I don’t have to be at the theater until this afternoon so I’m treating myself to a few hours. It feels like this is the first time I’ve had in days to come up for air.”

“Good idea,” Adam complimented. “I know that the show’s opening was a lot to handle, but you’re doing everything so admirably. I’m so very proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Kurt said gratefully. He knew that he could always count on Adam’s support, but he felt a little bit guilty over Adam missing out on sleep just to check up on him.

“You sound tired,” Kurt said, not hiding his concern. “Everything okay?”

Adam didn’t answer for a minute but from the sounds coming from the other end of the call, Kurt could hear his lover yawning and mentally pictured him rubbing his eyes.

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” Adam admitted with obvious reluctance. “Actually, I didn’t sleep at all.”

Concerned, Kurt sat up straighter in his seat. Adam normally slept pretty soundly unless something was really bothering him, or if he was pulling an all-nighter. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

There was another long pause before Adam answered. “The usual stuff,” he acknowledged. “My rewrites are total shite right now. I’m a little homesick and tired of living out of hotels. And I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Kurt answered, his mouth drawing into a tight smile.

“We’re barely halfway through the tour and I’m ready for it to be over,” Adam explained. “I mean, I love this show and the guys have been really good mates the past few weeks, but I miss your cooking.”

Kurt couldn’t help from laughing, but he felt his eyes starting to tear.

“Last night, I was just feeling sorry for myself,” Adam said with clear reluctance. “I didn’t want to keep Niall awake, so I just went down to the lobby and walked around. Now I’ve got a raging headache and I don’t know how I’m going to survive the day.”

Adam paused and Kurt ached to reach out and pull him into his arms.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Adam said sadly. “I know that you have so much on your plate and I don’t want to burden you with this. I’m just being a wet mop about things.”

“Honey, you know that you can always call me,” Kurt insisted, hating that he couldn’t physically be there for Adam and support him. “I know how hard this is for you.”

“I just don’t want to ruin this time for you,” Adam stated insistently. “You’re doing so well and I don’t want to be a distraction when you’re finally getting what you deserve. And I should be grateful that I’m even working right now.”

“You are not doing that,” Kurt stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I would be furious if you didn’t tell me that something was wrong. I love you and I worry about you.”

He heard Adam sigh and sob a little bit. “This is just so much harder than I thought it would be. I miss you so much and I feel like I’m missing so much of your life. I want to be there with you to celebrate what you’ve accomplished and I’m letting you down.”

“Oh, honey… you’re doing no such thing,” Kurt insisted, gentling his voice. He didn’t want Adam to be punishing himself because of his job. There would be plenty of other chances for him to see perform, but he shouldn’t feel badly because he was at the moment building his career.

“I know that you wish you could be here, but you’re doing such amazing things out there. I’m so proud of you. And we’re going to have plenty of time to celebrate when you get home,” he reminded the older man, hoping that the reminder that their separation would not be forever would console him a little bit.

He heard Adam sniffle. “Don’t mind me, love,” Adam said, the exhaustion apparent in his voice. “I always sound like a whiny toddler when I’m overtired.”

Kurt nodded understandingly. “It’s okay. I don’t mind your whining,” he assured the older man. “But I’m still going to worry about you. Do you have anything you absolutely have to do today?”

“No, thankfully there’s no matinee,” Adam sighed.

“Okay… what I want you to do is get something light to eat and then kick Niall out for a little while. Just tell him that you need some quiet. He won’t mind,” Kurt instructed with gentle firmness. “Take a hot shower and then get back into bed. You’ll be able to get a few hours of sleep before you need to be at the theater. That will give you enough rest that you can get through tonight’s show.”

“I will,” Adam assured him. “I’m sorry for calling you up in this state.”

“Oh, hush. You know I love you,” Kurt reminded him.

“And I love you, darling. More than I could ever say.”

Kurt smiled again. “Go get some rest. Call me after you’ve slept and just let me know that you’re okay.”

“I will.”

Kurt waited until Adam had disconnected his call before putting his phone down, giving himself a moment to consider what had just happened. He wasn’t going to lie to himself, but he was worried about Adam. He’d had enough sleepless nights to know how hard it was to get through the day afterwards, but Adam had his own show to worry about. Hopefully talking would ease Adam’s mind enough to get a few hours of solid sleep and give him the energy for the evening performance. Adam couldn’t afford to be phoning in a performance at this stage.

Just to help in what small way he could, Kurt sent a text message to Niall, explaining the situation since he knew that Adam would feel badly about exiling his roommate for the day and asked him to keep an eye on Adam for him. It was all he could do from New York. Naill texted back that he’d keep an eye on Adam and would let Kurt know if anything was amiss.

Kurt sipped his coffee, thinking that he should have anticipated this. It was bound to happen at some point that one of them would really start feeling the effects of their separation and in a way, it didn’t surprise him that it would be Adam. He’d had the luxury of being so busy lately that he didn’t have much time to dwell on things, but Adam had much more time to himself to think and didn’t have the support of his closest friends to help him.

He hated the feeling of helplessness, unable to hold Adam against him and offer the comfort that it was so obvious that the older man needed. They both knew that there were bound to be bumps in the road and all they could do was be there for one another as much as they could.

Kurt nodded to himself, steeling his resolve. They were going to get through this. He wouldn’t accept any other outcome.

* * *

Rachel sat at her dressing table, preparing for the afternoon matinee. It was a cramped space with six girls sharing a room that was probably just big enough for three, but they were managing. There was just enough room for them, their makeup tables and the rack that contained their costumes for the opening number. It was bearable because they really were only using it to prep before the show and relied on the quick-change area for all their costume changes during the show. Despite the cramped quarters, Rachel found that sharing it with her friends made the whole experience more than bearable. Even if they were literally on top of one another.

Still, compromises had to be made and that meant evacuating the numerous floral arrangements that all six of them had received from the room. Rachel’s fathers had seemed determined to single-handedly fill the room with flowers, having sent several ostentatious arrangements and leaving no room for anyone to actually use the dressing room for its intended purpose. The flowers they’d sent were currently decorating the loft, with Santana making mocking complaints about their home resembling a funeral parlor.

“Rachel, do you have a grey pencil?” Katya asked from the next table as she dug about in her makeup box. “Mine seems to have walked away.”

“Sure. Here you go,” Rachel said cheerfully, handing over a thick grey eyeliner pencil.

“Thanks. I’m going to run over to Sephora during our break to pick up a new one. Let me know if you need anything,” the other girl offered as she began to draw out lines to hollow out her cheekbones and under her eyes. A damp sponge blended the color into shadows that give her a starved appearance.

Rachel was carefully adding shadows to her collarbones when there was a knock at the dressing room door. “Ladies, are you decent?” a young woman’s voice called. “I have a delivery.”

Analisa rolled her eyes at the interruption before getting up and throwing on her robe since her table was closest to the door. One of the junior stage hands was standing there holding a glass vase with a dozen pink roses.

“Sorry for the interruption, ladies,” the girl said apologetically. “But these just came for Rachel.”

“Another one?” Analisa chuckled as she accepted the flowers for her friend and offered the girl a thanks. Nudging the door closed with her foot, she carried the flowers over to Rachel.

“Your dads are going a little overboard with the flowers,” she teased, handing over the vase. “Though I do have to say, these isn’t nearly as bougie as the last few.”

Rachel plucked the card from the simple arrangement and smiled as she read it. “It’s not from my parents,” she advised, feeling her cheeks start to warm. “Neil sent them.”

Katya grinned, leaning over to read the card over Rachel’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s so sweet,” she cooed. “We haven’t met him yet, have we?”

Rachel shook her head. “No. We’ve been so busy with rehearsals that I haven’t had much of a chance to bring him around. It’s still kind of new. I mean, we’ve barely gone out on a proper date yet.”

“Is he cute?” Analisa asked with a knowing smile.

Rachel blushed and nodded. “I think so,” she answered., mentally picturing his gentle eyes. “He’s coming to see the show this afternoon.”

Katya nodded in understanding. “Well, we’d better make sure that we give a hell of a performance today,” she proclaimed.

“Definitely,” Analisa agreed. “And once he sees you in ‘Lovely Ladies’, you’ll have him hook, line and sinker.”

Rachel couldn’t help from grinning as she found a spot for the flowers on her table, once again grateful to have some real friends sharing this with her. Without the other girls, this could have been an astonishingly lonely experience despite the crowded chorus.

It wasn’t often that she wanted to remember all of the mistakes she’d made since coming to New York, but she was grateful that she’d learned those hard-won lessons.

* * *

The afternoon matinee went well, the cast and crew working perfectly in sync and Kurt could not be happier. They might have only a few days before their closing night, but it was clear that their run would be a successful one. He had no idea if NYADA was benefiting financially the way Madam Tibideaux wanted, but it had been an absolutely invaluable experience for all the students involved.

Unquestionably, they were all better prepared for their future careers. They had dealt first hand with all the challenges of a large-scale production from start to finish. As difficult as the trial had been, it had given them a true sense of what awaited them in their professional careers. No other school experience could come close to what they had learned the last few months.

Kurt leaned back in his seat thoughtfully, tuning out the other goings on in the dressing room. It was strange that no matter how aware they might be of what being a working actor entailed, he didn’t think that anyone was truly prepared for what that career actually brought. He’d thought that he knew well enough to expect the long hours and hard work. He’d mentally accepted the need to travel for roles and the monotony of an endless parade of auditions that awaited him.

Coming to New York and NYADA had been an eye-opening experience. The school didn’t allow them the luxury of living in a fantasy world. There were no promises of stardom, let alone anything in the way of long-term security and it would take as much determination as talent to even have a chance. Whatever successes they might find would come from hard work and perseverance.

Seeing Adam struggle his first months out in the world warned that no matter what they might be told, no one was truly prepared until they were actually living the life. Seeing his lover trying to keep his chin up when no offers of work seemed apparent and then having to spend weeks on the road, separated from his friends and family made his heart ache for his lover. He knew that for Adam, finishing the run with no promise of work afterwards was beyond daunting.

Thankfully, they seemed to have survived one hurdle, Kurt thought. Niall had texted him while he was on stage to let him know that Adam was still sleeping and that he would make sure that Adam was up in time to shower and get something to eat before they needed to be at the theater. While Adam would probably not be one hundred percent well, he’d have gotten enough rest to let him give the kind of performance that he wouldn’t be ashamed of. Relieved, Kurt texted his thanks to the other Englishman and asked him to tell Adam to call before they left for the theater.

Facing the stage door crowd wasn’t something he really was in the mood for at the moment, but he knew that it was part of his job. The people who’d paid to see the show and waited to greet the cast deserved his attention for the few minutes it would take him to get through the line. And he had friends waiting to see him that he didn’t want to disappoint.

The spring afternoon looked painfully bright as he stepped out of the theater, and the cheers from the waiting crowd sounded dim in his ears. But he made sure to smile charmingly, paying attention to the fans and signing whatever they pressed into his hands. He listened to their compliments, graciously thanked them for their regard and signed his autograph before moving down the line.

By the time he was nearly at the end, he could hear the cheers of his friends who had been waiting and couldn’t help from smiling in genuine happiness. Rachel had already reached them and was cheering alongside Elliot, Dani and Neil, calling out his name and waving him over.

Kurt hurried over, feeling his tension fading as he reached his friends and found Elliot reaching over the barrier to pull him into a warm hug, lifting him off his feet.

“So I guess that you guys enjoyed it,” Kurt quipped at seeing the broad grins on their faces.

Elliot squeezed him tightly. “It was spectacular,” he assured his friend. “And you both were amazing.”

“It really was,” Dani agreed, nodding happily and reaching out to grasp his hand. “Easily as good as any professional show.”

Kurt smiled, pleased with their reactions. “How about you, Neil?” he asked as Elliot released him.

The tall young man appeared thoughtful for a moment. “Well, speaking as someone with no theater eye… it was pretty amazing,” he admitted. “I appreciated that the general storyline of the novel got followed pretty closely and the entire cast did a great job.”

“I told you that you’d enjoy it,” Rachel teased her suitor, pleased that he hadn’t be totally bored.

“And I did,” Neil confirmed with a smile. “But I’m not going to lie… I’m never going to get why everyone feels the need to break out into song right before they die. It’s very disconcerting, because you figure that if they saved their energy, they might pull through.”

“That’s not how it works,” Elliot teased, rolling his eyes.

The tall young man turned to his friends. “Whatever,” he dismissed. “Now if you two don’t mind, I did promise to take my lady here out for a bite to eat before she needs to get back at the theater.”

“Go ahead,” Elliot urged with a smile. “Abandon us. We’ll survive somehow.”

Rachel smiled and leaned over to give Kurt a quick peck on his cheek. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Have fun,” he urged, glad that his friend seemed to be on the path to something good. He watched with a smile as Neil lead Rachel away, his large hand holding her small one gently as they strolled down the street.

Elliot drew his attention with a gentle nudge. “How about we go grab something to eat,” he suggested. “If you don’t have any plans, I mean.”

Glad to have a distraction and not spend the next few hours obsessing over how Adam was doing at the moment, he nodded in agreement. “That sounds like a great idea,” he said approvingly. “I could use a few friendly faces.”

“I need to get to work,” Dani said apologetically. “But let Elliot spoil you a little. It’s all he’s been talking about today.”

The tall man’s cheeks flushed at his friend’s teasing, but he didn’t deny her playful accusation. Taking pity on his friend, Kurt offered him a reassuring smile. “That sounds like a great idea,” he claimed with no little sense of relief. Having someone to spend an hour or two with was infinitely better than obsessing over how Adam was doing.

Twenty minutes later, they were seated in a restaurant a few blocks from the theater with Kurt biting into what he thought might be the world’s most delicious veggie burger when Elliot making an amused grin at Kurt’s moan of pleasure.

“Okay… spill,” the older man urged. “Something is bugging you.”

Kurt looked up, his eyes wide as he chewed and swallowed. “Am I that transparent?” he couldn’t help from asking with a small smile.

“Only to those who really know you,” Elliot assured him kindly. “So what’s going on? Because you should be at the top of the world right now.”

That gently inquiry caused the floodgates to open and Kurt found himself pouring out his worry over Adam. Elliot didn’t interrupt him, watching his friend carefully and giving Kurt his full attention.

“I just don’t know what I can do for him,” Kurt said morosely, digging his onion ring through a smear of chipotle mayonnaise before biting into it. “I feel so damn helpless.”

Elliot nodded in understanding. “Well, if it’s any consolation, you hid it really well,” he assured his friend. “I wouldn’t have been able to tell anything was wrong during the show.”

Kurt couldn’t help from smiling sheepishly. “I’m an absolute master at compartmentalization,” he boasted. “But that just lets me avoid what’s wrong. It usually ends up coming back to bite me in the ass.”

“I don’t think that you’re going to have to worry about that,” Elliot said confidently. “Adam adores you.”

“Yeah, well I thought that Blaine adored me and you know how that turned out,” Kurt said sourly. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “Look, I know that Adam is nothing like Blaine but I can’t help from worrying that he might just decide that this long distance thing is just too hard.”

Elliot turned a look at Kurt that implied that he was concerned for his friend’s sanity at that moment. “Now stop that,” he admonished. “If Adam’s having problems, the last thing he needs is you starting to feel sorry for yourself too.”

“I’m not doubting Adam,” Kurt insisted. “I’m worried about him and I can’t help from being afraid.”

Elliot’s gaze softened. “I know you can’t,” he granted gently. “But he needs you to be strong for the both of you now. This is just a momentary hiccup. You said that you talked to him and he’s getting some rest, right?”

Kurt nodded, taking another bite of his burger.

“All right… the you’re already getting things back on track. You’ll talk to him again today. And you’ll keep on talking to him,” Elliot advised. “He’ll get past this funk and the two of you will get through this.

“You have to be the strong one,” Elliot urged. “That’s what he needs right now. Be there for him. As much as you can from here and keep reminding him that you’ll be waiting for him to come back.”

Kurt sat silently as he chewed his lunch, absorbing the advice that his friend was giving him. All of it made sense. It just didn’t resolve the matter at hand. Adam was still alone, and they would be separated for the next few months.

Elliot sat back in his chair and took a sip of his iced tea. “Okay, Neil would be a lot better at this but I’m going to play armchair therapist here,” he proclaimed with a reassuring smile. Once he saw that Kurt would be receptive to his efforts, he laid out the situation as he saw things.

“I’m going to take a wild stab at why Adam might have felt particularly cut off right now,” he explained. “Mind you, this is not assigning blame because neither one of you is doing anything wrong. The past few weeks, you’ve been very tied up at the theater with tech and the opening night… it’s not a surprise that you’re not as accessible right now as you usually are for him.”

That observation, however accurate it was, hit Kurt dead center in the sore spot he had from Blaine. Blaine had insisted that if Kurt hadn’t been so wrapped up in his job and reapplying to NYADA, he wouldn’t have cheated. It wasn’t a fair accusation, but Kurt had spent weeks raking himself over the coals about not worrying about what bow tie Blaine should have worn for an event, or not caring about what songs his ex planned to sing on a given day. He’d berated himself for focusing on his adult concerns when Blaine claimed to need him, feeling guilty for thinking that Blaine was worried about childish things. It had taken him so long to push past feeling responsible for Blaine’s actions and to recognize that he had the right to focus on his own needs.

Elliot saw Kurt’s face pale at his observation and quickly jumped in to reassure him. “Kurt, that’s not saying that you’re doing anything wrong!” he insisted, wanting to put his friend at ease. “Adam knows that you need to focus on your show right now. Validating his feelings doesn’t mean that you’re responsible for them. They may not be totally rational, and you can’t be holding yourself accountable for not being there as much as he might need at this very moment.

“I’m sure that Adam knows that he’s not being too rational right now,” Elliot explained confidently. “And he wouldn’t want you to put your life on hold because he’s feeling sorry for himself. This is just a little hiccup that you two need to get past.”

Kurt considered his friend’s words and nodded in agreement. “That’s all well and good,” he granted. “But how do we move past this? The last time something like this happened, my relationship went right into the dumpster.”

Elliot considered his question thoughtfully before answering. “Being there for Adam doesn’t mean coddling him,” Elliot reminded, not wanting his friend to take on more than he reasonably could at the moment. “He’s going to have to pull up his big boy pants here. It can’t all be on you.”

“But what can I do?” Kurt asked. “I hate the idea of him floundering on his own.”

Elliot shook his head. “He’s not floundering,” he assured the younger man. “He’s going through a bit of a rough patch right now. You’ve already got him in hand, getting him through the immediate problem. He’s got friends in the cast for support. When he wakes up you’ll check up on him, make sure that he’s in a good state for his show tonight and leave him in his friend’s hands.”

Elliot reconsidered his advice and nodded approvingly. “That’s really all you can do right now,” he reminded. “You have your own show to focus on. Tonight you’ll give yourself a bit of time to talk. Let him vent if he needs it. Remind him that you love him.”

Kurt looked down at his plate, the meal appearing a lot less appetizing than it did a few minutes ago. He looked up at his friend, pursing his mouth sourly. “I hate this,” he complained.

Elliot grinned and nodded in understanding. “I’m sure that you do,” he granted. “And you’re allowed to feel bad about this situation too. Neil always said that feelings are just feelings. They don’t always make sense, but they can sure trip you up if you let them. You love him. He loves you. You’re going to get through this.

“Now eat your lunch,” Elliot commanded. “You’ve got your own show to get through tonight.”

Nodding because he knew that his friend was right, Kurt picked up his burger.

By the time Elliot had walked him back to the theater and left him at the stage door with a hug and an admonishment to make sure that he took care of himself, Kurt was feeling marginally better. Admittedly, having someone to talk to did help a bit, and he assured his friend that he would be fine. It wasn’t as if Kurt had much of a choice since he was due on stage in just a few hours.

Fortunately, none of his dressing roommates had returned yet and weren’t likely to for another hour or so, giving him a little bit of time to mentally regroup. He was sorting through his cosmetics kit, making sure that everything was in its place when nearly startled when his phone rang. Seeing Adam’s number, he immediately answered.

“Sweetie? How are you feeling?” he asked, not bothering to hide his worry.

He could almost feel Adam smiling at him from the other end of the call. “Hello to you too,” the older man chuckled teasingly. “A little logy at the moment, but Niall made me shower and we’re going to get something to eat in a little bit.”

“Think that you’re going to be all right for tonight?” Kurt couldn’t help from asking.

“I’ll be fine,” Adam assured him. “I might have to muscle through a bit, but I’ve managed on little sleep before.”

Kurt sighed in relief. “That’s good. I was worried about you.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Adam said sincerely. “I shouldn’t have dumped that on you when you’ve got your own performance to worry about.”

“I’d be more upset if you didn’t tell me that something was wrong,” Kurt admonished gently. “Honey, I know this is hard on you. But it’s only for a few more weeks. You’re going to come back to New York and I’m going to be waiting here from you.

“You have been doing so well,” Kurt insisted, smiling sadly. “Everyone sees how amazing you are, and our lives are going to be amazing when you come home.”

He heard Adam sniffle on the other end. “God, I love you so much,” the older man stated.

“And I love you,” Kurt answered back. “More than I can ever really say.”

Neither of them could think of anything else that needed to be said, but neither did they want to end this connection. Adam was the one who finally sighed.

“I’m going to let you go now, love,” he said with obvious reluctance. “I know that you’ve got to start getting ready.”

Kurt exhaled deeply. “Call me when you’re done tonight,” he urged gently.

“I will,” Adam promised.

“I love you,” Kurt reminded him.

Both men felt some sense of relief, as if they’d managed to surmount a huge obstacle in their path. Kurt was reluctant to hang up the phone, but he knew that Adam would need a little bit of time to get himself sorted out and his dressing roommates would be arriving at any time.

“You have a good show tonight,” he urged.

“I will, sweetheart,” Adam answered. “You do the same. I’ll call you later.”

Kurt didn’t have very much time to dwell on Adam or their conversation. He detected the sounds of a theater starting to come to life as actors and crew began to return and start the preparations for the evening performance.

Knowing that he needed to get his head clear for the show, Kurt shifted his concern for Adam to a back burner in his mind and began the task of setting out what he would need for the show. Looking in the mirror, he set his features in a calm, neutral expression and began the process of transforming into Enjolras. He could do nothing else at this point.

* * *

“You okay?” Niall asked as he held the stage door open for Adam.

The other man nodded, pulling off his sunglasses as they stepped inside. “I’ll survive. Thanks for letting me sleep in.”

“It wasn’t any problem, you silly git,” Niall grumbled good-naturedly, giving him a nudge with his shoulder. “You should have said that you were getting into a mood.”

Adam sighed, knowing that his friend was right. For the past few days he’d been sinking in on himself and the end result was the pathetic funk that Kurt had to drag him out of. He really was a pathetic idiot sometimes.

“I didn’t want to be a bother,” Adam claimed, knowing that it was a weak defense, but it was the only one he had.

“Bollocks,” Niall retorted with an indignant snort. “You were the one who picked me up when I was crying over being away from Cynth on our first anniversary. You took me out and got me pissed so I wouldn’t be sitting in the hotel room. I know that the others don’t understand because they weren’t leaving anyone at home but if you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m here for you. We’re mates, aren’t we?”

Adam nodded, realizing that somewhere along the line, he and Niall went past being friendly cast mates to actual friends. Maybe it was because they were the only two in the cast in serious relationships and had a mutual bond, but the closeness that evolved between the two men could not be denied.

“I know that you miss your boy,” Niall said understandingly as they headed towards their dressing room. “It sucks that we have to be away, but you know what? We’re both so fucking lucky.

“I mean, you’re right out of school and landing a role like this. I’ve been trying to get my break and dealing with Cynth’s folk who thought that I’d never amount to anything. And we’ve got people who love us who are willing to put up with us on this crazy ride. So for a few months we have to be on the road, but look at it this way… We’re doing what we’ve worked so hard to achieve.”

Adam bit his lower lip and nodded. He knew all this.

Niall smiled and wrapped a supportive arm about Adam’s shoulders. “So you and me… we’re in this together,” he reminded his friend. “Let’s get out there and give our audience a hell of a show, because that’s going to make all this worthwhile.”

Adam knew that his friend was right. And during the performance, he made clear to channel his sadness over missing Kurt into his character. He thought that it was probably his best performance thus far.

* * *

For all the hard work they put in in the months before the opening, the run of Les Miserables went quickly. The schedule was throwing everyone off, with the students having a rare few hours of leisure during the day while their work at the theater often lasted late into the night. Kurt found himself with little real time to socialize with the friends who had come from out of town to see them, envying Rachel being at the loft with them. The best that he could manage was a drink with Artie and Tina the night they came to see the show, and a cup of coffee with Quinn while they chatted about her role as Hannah Jelkes in Yale’s production of Night of the Iguana before he needed to get back to the dorms and get to bed.

With so many ups and downs and hours of work and performances, coming on the final performances almost took Kurt by surprise. It seemed to almost come out of nowhere that the weekend with their last performances arrived. Kurt didn’t know if he was supposed to feel relieved that it was nearly over or bereft that it was all coming to an end.

He looked over to his lunch companion with a tired smile. “Don’t mind me,” he urged. “My emotions have been playing ping pong with my brain all day.”

Mercedes laughed, taking a sip of her iced tea. “I don’t blame you,” she consoled. “This has been kind of a crazy week for you.”

“That’s an understatement,” Kurt agreed, taking a bite of his salad.

“But look at it this way,” Mercedes proposed. “You’ve been proving how well you can handle this, and it’s given you a real taste of what your career is going to be like. It hasn’t turned you off of showbiz, has it?”

Kurt couldn’t help from grinning. “Nope,” he said assuredly. “Definitely not. Though I am starting to wonder what that says about my sanity.”

His old friend just gave him a loving smile. “It says that you know what you want and are willing to put the work in to get it,” she explained. “It’s not easy to get a foot through the door in our fields and they certainly will put us through the wringer while we prove ourselves.”

There was probably no one better who really understood that than Mercedes, Kurt considered. Mercedes had traveled all the way to Los Angeles by herself, working as a session singer while fighting for studio time to lay down tracks for her own album. For all the initial interest in her from the label, it had been a constant struggle to stay on their radar.

“So, what is going on with the album?” Kurt asked, wanting the distraction from his own work. “Any word on when the label plans to release it?”

Mercedes huffed in exasperation. “Oh, don’t get me started! It feels like I laid down enough tracks for six albums,” she complained with an exasperated smile. “Working with the song writers and finding the right material, then all of the editing and mixing. It seems like it’s been a never-ending process.”

Kurt nodded in understanding. “So where do things stand now?”

“We’re picking out the songs for the album,” she explained. “I have my ideas and the label has theirs so that’s been a struggle. Now the PR people are giving their feedback on which song should be my first single and how to do the promotion because let’s face it… I’m not exactly you’re typical pop princess.”

Kurt knew that his friend had probably gotten some subtle hints about her weight being an issue, which was a shame since there was no one who had a voice like hers. It would be an absolute crime for her career to be held back because she didn’t look like Taylor Swift. Marketing someone who didn’t fit a narrow mold was always a challenge and he hoped that Mercedes’s label had enough faith in her talent to find a way to market her properly.

“Well, if you need an actor for your music video, I’ll be free in just a few days,” Kurt teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

That got Mercedes to laugh. “I hate dealing with the business side of things,” she admitted reluctantly. “I’m a singer. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do and I’ve got to deal with all this bullshit to make that happen. I swear, I spent more time in people’s offices than I do in the recording studio.”

“Sometimes I think that learning how the business operates is one of the best things about being at NYADA,” Kurt surmised. “It may not be fun but knowing what to expect, I think, makes it a little bit easier to deal with.”

Mercedes pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Well, I wish that someone would have told me that getting signed was only the start of things instead of all that junk about just needing talent to make it. I mean… even after all this work, there’s no guarantee that they’ll even release the album at all. I know that Mr. Schue meant well, but he really didn’t prepare any of us for what’s out here, did he?”

That wasn’t something Kurt would disagree about. But then, it was pretty clear that until one was exposed to the reality of the industry, it was difficult for them to understand the intricacies of the recording or theater business.

She sighed and stirred her pasta idly with her fork before turning a thoughtful gaze to her oldest friend. “Why the hell are we putting ourselves through this?” she asked with a wry smile.

“Because we want more than to sing in our bedrooms for our own gratification,” he reminded her. “This is the price that we pay for our dreams. If it was easy, would it really be worth doing?”

“You have to love how we justify doing this to ourselves,” she sighed.

Kurt reached out to squeeze her beautifully manicured hand. “’Cedes, there is no one more capable of getting through this than you,” he insisted. “A few years from now, I know that I’m going to see you headlining your own tour and winning a shelf full of Grammys.”

That brought a laugh from his friend. “Hey, don’t forget that you promised to be my Grammy date,” she reminded playfully, swatting Kurt with her napkin.

The tension broken, they tucked back into their lunch. “What are you going to do once the show ends?” Mercedes asked. “I know that you’ve been working that adorable little ass off the past few months.”

“Get through the rest of the semester,” Kurt affirmed. “Wait for Adam to come home. Just keep moving forward with things.”

“Well, I can’t wait to see the show tomorrow,” Mercedes claimed with a brilliant smile. “Everyone’s been absolutely raving about it.”

Kurt couldn’t resist a small smile of pride. “Yeah, I think it turned out pretty good.

“So… tell me more about the album. How many songs did you record?”

* * *

One last curtain call, Rachel thought with a trace of genuine sadness. One more chance to absorb the acclaim from a live audience before their lives returned to what passed for normal. It would feel strange to go back to a schedule of classes and exams. It felt a little cruel, giving them all just a taste of what being on a real stage felt like before snatching it away from them.

She felt the change in the theater’s atmosphere as they prepared for their final show. The nerves and pre-performance jitters were a thing of the past. The easy chatter that she was accustomed to in the dressing room was traded for long silences and lingering glances as they tried to absorb as much as they could of this experience before it was lost to them forever.

After a week, their performances were nearly second nature. There were no missed cues and the ensemble swiftly made their costume changes and got to their marks, the action flowing seamlessly. The leads were all as good as ever, and the group numbers where the entire cast were on stage together were absolutely perfect. They couldn’t have asked for a better wrap to their show.

It was going to be a strange thing, to wake up the next day and not have this, Rachel thought as she dressed for the final number. For the first time in her career, Rachel truly felt like part of a greater whole and she was going to be sorry to lose that.

The curtain calls were numerous and full of tears as they performed a final encore of “Do You Hear The People Sing” and there were multiple sets of group bows. Each of the leads took several bows while the audience gave the cast a rousing standing ovation. The cast offered their own acclaim to the orchestra and their director. As if reluctant to leave the stage and wanting to drag out the moment, the entire cast stood together to take one last bow before the curtain came down for the final time.

Once shielded from the audience came the hugs and open crying; everyone in the cast and crew facing the crushing truth that it truly was over. Rachel felt herself be embraced by the other girls as they huddled together, stroking one another’s hair and sobbing compliments and commiserations to one another.

Rachel wiped at her eyes, knowing that she was smearing her makeup and didn’t care. She would never be able to pinpoint the moment where she stopped seeing Analisa and Katya as just rivals in her class to actual friends, but here she was. She knew that she could be proud that she had managed to keep her ambition under control and didn’t alienate the rest of the cast, but she was even more proud of what she’d accomplished in her role. This was something that she was going to look back on with a lot of pride.

Professor Carmody called the cast and crew together, looking about the group tiredly and with enormous pride.

“I’m not going to keep you all,” she promised with a smile. “I know that a lot of you have celebrations to get to, but I wanted you to know that I’m going to urge your instructors to give you all full credit for your work on this show. I wanted to offer my personal thanks for your commitment and all your hard work. This has been, in my opinion, the finest production NYADA has ever staged and most of that credit belongs to all of you.

“Now all of you will find a little gift from the board and the alumni, just to offer their appreciation for all that you’ve done for NYADA. Please accept our thanks, because this has been one of our most successful fundraising effort in the history of the school. You’ve proven yourselves to be tremendous credits to everything that NYADA stands for.”

She looked around the group, ready to dismiss them for the final time. “Go enjoy yourselves,” she urged. You’ve earned it.”

That brought out more tears and hugs before everyone began to drift off to take care of their post-show rituals. The actors had it easy, as they could clean up and go out to celebrate because their part was over. The tech crews, on the other hand, would be spending a lot of time over the next few days breaking everything down and getting equipment and costumes into storage.

The girls made their way to their dressing room to clean up and found decoratively adorned gift bags at every table. Analisa fingered the colorful ribbons holding the bags closed and turned a wry smile to her friends. “I guess Professor Carmody was serious about the board making nice,” she quipped.

“Well, I’m not going to be shy,” Katya insisted, pulling the ribbons free and opening her bag. Rachel laughed and opened her own, curious to see what they had gotten.

Inside the bag was a card adorned with a dancing Harlequin, with a brief note thanking them for their work and complimenting them on their talents. Rachel couldn’t help from smiling at seeing that the note printed on fine card stock was personalized, addressing her by name and noting the roles she’d played in the ensemble. She thought it was a rather nice touch.

“Well, they didn’t cheap out on us,” Analisa noted happily.

Katya nodded as she tried to pull out the multiple bobby pins holding her long hair up without making it into a complete tangle.

Reaching into the bag, Rachel pulled out a copy of the show’s Playbill for her collection, a neatly rolled copy of the poster and, best of all, a gift certificate for the TKTS booth so that she could enjoy whatever show she chose. Looking up at her friends with a smile, she fanned herself with the certificate.

“At least they gave us something that we’re actually going to use,” she expressed with pleasure. “And I know exactly what I’m going to do with this.”

“You’re going to drag your boyfriend to a show, aren’t you?” Katya teased knowingly.

“Rachel, don’t do it!” Analisa insisted. “Trust me… I’ve been there! It will only end in tears.”

“Nope,” Rachel proclaimed insistently. “I’m going to give him an appreciation for theater if I have to beat it into him.”

“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I need a drink,” Katya complained. “We’d better start cleaning up.”

Costumes were stripped off and hung up for the wardrobe crew to gather. Rachel couldn’t resist running her hand lovingly over the dress, knowing that by tomorrow it would be cleaned and packed away. She cleaned off her stage makeup and washed up, taking a few moments to start packing her supplies in her makeup kit. She’d have time to clean up her table and gather her things the next day, but she felt better about not leaving a mess.

Once she was cleaned up and dressed, she and the others stepped out of the theater for one last line of fans waiting at the stage door. They lingered to sign autographs, accepting the warm regards. Rachel mentally reminded herself that this was not the last time she would have such an experience. There would be many show openings and closings in her future, but this one would always be special to her. This was the production where she stopped worrying about seeing herself as a star and saw herself as an actor.

Mercedes was waiting for them and pulled Rachel into a hug. Hearing the compliments from someone who had been her biggest rival in high school was gratifying and Rachel was reminded yet again of just how foolish she’s been. But that was now in the past and she could look forward to a brilliant future that would not be a lonely one.

For now, she was content to wait for Kurt to emerge from the theater with the rest of the guys. They would be out all night, celebrating their accomplishment and talking over their shared experience. They would laugh over the mishaps, praise one another’s work and honoring what they had all accomplished.

The real world would intrude soon enough, with more work and challenges. This night, though, was for them.

#kadam fic #kadam #kurt hummel #adam crawford #rachel berry #william schuester #sue sylvester #tina cohen chang #artie abrams #elliot starchild gilbert #glee dani #nyada students #original characters #not blaine or klaine friendly

12 notes · View notes

theonceoverthinker · 6 years

Text

OUAT 2X06 - Tallahassee

Who’s ready for a vacay?! I’m thinking Florida!

...I was kind of hoping for Disney, but *shrugs* whatever.

Anyway, under the cut for my thoughts on this OUAT vacation.

Press Release With the hopes of finding a magical compass that could help her and Mary Margaret get back to Storybrooke, Emma takes a journey with a not-too-trustworthy Captain Hook up a treacherous beanstalk in an attempt to steal the item from a murderous giant. Meanwhile, Emma’s past is revealed to be anything but magical when she meets up with a fellow thief who wants to make an honest woman out of her. General Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness Past This was a really well put together segment! What makes it work for me is the care they brought to Neal while constructing his backstory in regards to Emma. It’s actually been a while since I’ve watched an episode with Neal in it, and I forgot about a lot of his charm and dedication. At the same time, the episode doesn’t make Neal perfect at any point, showing him be a thief and getting angry, exasperated, and even a little stupid. That stuff makes the betrayal of Emma’s trust, for as saddening as it is, feel like something that could feasibly happen, especially as the audience can interpret to some extent (Until it’s explicitly laid out a few episodes later).

I have an unpopular opinion among my fellow Emma fans. That is, I feel like she’s a character that doesn’t necessarily need a ton of backstory. That’s because episodes like these are so impactful for the exact reason that they're rarities. when someone lets Emma down in just one flashback, we understand how important that moment was to Emma and how it shaped that one facet of her personality so specifically. well, I feel like had they had too many Emma flashbacks, they wouldn’t have been as effective because they would have been akin to laying on a bed of nails: An overabundance of sob stories just makes one feel exhausted more than sympathetic and so much more of Emma’s depth is revealed from the parts of her that are not spoonfed, such as her one off lines about the effects of her lonely upbringing. Present I’ll go over this soon, but trust is a big theme of this episode, and Emma’s trust for Killian in the present is framed to be at a contrast with her trust for Neal in the past. And to a degree and not a small one, that does come through. There are a lot of subtle moments that show growth (Killian being able to read Emma, Emma confessing that she was in love once, Emma’s concern for Killian’s wellbeing). However, I feel like for in order for Emma’s betrayal at the end to make more sense as a move that frustrates but is still understandable, they should’ve shown a bit more growth in Emma’s trust for Killian. As it stands, their interactions feel like they more or less reset at the start of every new scene between them. Emma makes her distrust for Killian clear, the two of them do something (Climbing, knocking out Anton, exploring Anton’s castle), one of them gets in physical danger or something is otherwise exposed, and 1% of trust is added. I really feel like there should’ve been a bit more warmth or more obvious progress because not only on its own, but especially when compared to Emma and Neal’s story, it’s not as effective when Emma locks him up because I can’t help but feel like that’s something she probably would’ve done at the end of “The Doctor” too. What changed and does she regret her choice? It doesn’t seem to be the case because there’s not much within the segment itself to compare the moment to.

On a more positive note, in addition to just Killian’s interactions with Emma, we get a lot of insight into his character on his own. For instance, Killian, despite working for Cora, doesn’t trust her, adding to the later-on emphasized concern for self preservation. We also see the first of Killian’s signature impatience. It’s weird. After over 100 years in Neverland, Killian has definitely shown how patient he can be, but as his revenge gets closer, practically insight, we see how that patience just drops to nothing. One could conceivably even call that a fault in his character, but I’d argue against that given how we've also seen later on instances where Killian has had no patience with his revenge right in front of him, so it does make sense. It's also very interesting parallel to Rumple, who in later episodes is shown to experience similar behavior. All Encompassing The issue and theme of trust (Or rather, destroyed trust) is prevalent through the two main segments. In the past, Neal betrayed Emma’s trust, and taking from that experience, Emma betrays Killian’s trust (And to a smaller extent, Snow’s trust through not telling her about her favor from Mulan). This episode also has a really nifty parallel to its own predecessors. Now, in a lot of episodes of season 2 thus far, we’ve see characters internalizing a bad lesson in the past, but rejecting it (mostly) in the present (Rumple being more cooperative with Belle’s needs, Regina refusing to inflict the same pain on Henry that Cora inflicted on her, and Regina being able to let go of Daniel). However, for the first time this season, we see a character who internalized that lesson in the past (protect yourself because you don't know when someone will betray you, even if you trust them), but actually refused to move on from it in the present. Emma, despite seeing and even acknowledging that she does to a large extent trusts Killian, still leaves him cuffed atop the beanstalk (“I can’t take a chance that I’m wrong about you.” Insights - Stream of Consciousness -I love Killian in his robes! He just looks so snuggly, even more so than usual! -”Bad form” makes what I believe is its first appearance! -Killian, watch that! That’s your soon-to-be mother-in-law talking! -I like how the mythology of the giants factors into the present story. Keeping in tune with one of the secondary themes of the episode -- that things are never what they seem -- the giant’s were described as brutes (As per Killian’s story), they were (As we later learn) more like isolationists and he war of giants and men was flipped from the known storyline. Watching this episode with the knowledge from “Tiny” already in mind makes all the scenes where the giant’s history is described so gruesome. -Has anyone ever written a fic where Cora actually does accompany Killian up the beanstalk? -”Emma Swan. Good name.” Am I the only one to connect this to Rumple’s “Emma. What a lovely name” line? -I know Neal gets a lot of flack for the “women” line, but I’m not entirely convinced that that was what he was going for. Instead, I feel like he’s playing to the cop’s sexism. I feel this way both because of the really over-the-top-but-in-a-way-that-one-can-tell-it’s-fake weasel-y smile he gives the cop and the “we” he says regarding his and Emma’s escape once the cop goes away. -”You’re not gonna argue with me?” “Would it do you any good?” I like that subtle display of Emma and Snow’s growing bond! -”Well, you never forget your first.” Now I really want to know what Killian’s first beanstalk was like! -Does anyone know what an Apollo bar is? Like, I know that it’s a fake candy bar, but what’s inside? -Random dude in the shop: Just yell “He’s stealing!” And why did you guys not chase after them?! -”Are you sure? Is this...what you really want?” MY POOR EMMA!!!! She’s been let down so many times! -I just realized that after the events of “Awake,” everyone in town had nightmares for months! How much you want to bet there was an Insomnia Club that was formed afterwards? XD -I like how Aurora’s grown to trust Snow so much given their rocky start! (Sleeping Snow, anyone?) -”It’s where the Final Battle was.” I know A&E had absolutely no knowledge as to the Season 6 finale, but I can’t help but snicker anyway. -”It’s rum, and a bloody waste of it.” I feel like this line would’ve worked better with that deleted scene from when they were climbing the giant’s beanstalk. -”Maybe I was once.” I find that this is such a good acknowledgment of trust that Emma now has in Killian. -How strong is Killian that he can get such a loud sound out of that simple pounding with a bone? -I love Anton’s costume! It’s so cuddly! -”I’m the worst human around!” I wonder how much Killian truly believes that. Like don’t get me wrong, Killian’s a baddie and a bad baddie, but does he consider himself worse than Rumple or was that line just part of the ruse? Because it’s Killian, I could honestly buy either. -Jack is so fucking extra. Who puts their own name on their sword?! -Emma just has the most beautiful hair ever! -I love seeing how much Emma’s willing to fight for her happiness when she knows she has it. As soon as Neal tells her he can’t go to Tallahassee, but instead needs to go to Canada, Emma’s all ready to go! -I sometimes forget just how Neal and Baelfire are the same person. It’s not like it’s executed badly or anything, but it’s such a change. -”You know your rights?” I’m not a cop by ANY means, but I’m pretty sure the cop has to actually say the rights (Correct me if I’m wrong). -”We do it side-by-side and fast.” Another line that shows Emma’s increasing trust for Killian! -”You gotta promise that you’ll be there for me.” “I promise.” LIAR! -”Money’s not what she needs.” August, she has roughly ten years left before she can break the curse AND she’s an ex-con. She might need that extra money! August, I’m not liking you in this episode! -How did August send Neal a postcard in his wooden form? -*Bites Anton to get freed* Emma, I don’t know what your dental plan (Or lack thereof) is, but stick with it! Also, more characters should bite to solve their problems! XD -Emma’s gotten so comfortable with a sword! -”You’re wrong.” [About all humans being killers] Emma, saying that while waving the sword isn’t helping your case. -”Now go before I change my mind.” Anton, you precious bean! You can see him trying and failing to be a badass! -”A jump from a beanstalk.” You’re one hell of a daredevil, Emma! Arcs - How are These Storylines Progressing? Emma and Snow getting back to Storybrooke - We get both half a means of a return journey as well as a future means of communication between the realms. Favorite Dynamic Emma and Anton - I honestly stuck this here because I figure I have talked (And will talk) about the other main dynamics, so why not go a touch more obscure?! So, what I like about Emma and Anton’s connection is something that connects her to both Neal and Killian, but gets its due emphasis here: Emma and Anton believe themselves to be alone and have learned not to trust others. And Emma, after understanding Anton’s story, position, and his victimization at the hands of those who bastardized his history, she shows him understanding and compassion, and Anton returns that. Writer We’ve once again got one new writer (Christine Boylan) and one old writer (Jane Espenson). It’s a pretty decent premiere! The past segment especially was fantastic, painting a story about Emma and Neal that was simple, but it worked for that reason. The present segment, well I have a bit more issues with it. I feel like there was this tug of war. they wanted to keep the characters consistent but also tell a story about trust and how Emma’s past ruined that growing trust, and while it’s possible to do that, the journey needed more room for more overt growth. Now, I like the more subtle shows of growing trust (As I said before, confessions of love from the past and concern for each other), but it also felt like those subtle bits didn’t really move Emma and Killian anywhere meaningful, making the climactic moment fall flat, and that’s frustrating because I can't help it feel like this was easily fixable. Why couldn’t Emma and Killian have a moment where they were talking a bit more comfortably, perhaps right before the scene before Anton re-enters the castle, and Killian says something that echoes something Neal said to her in the past segment (Think like when Felix called Calhoun a “dynamite gal” in Wreck It Ralph)? It would’ve contributed more to the crossroad that Emma found herself at the end of the episode and would make her decision (Again) more understandable for as frustrating as it is. Rating 7/10. I really hate giving this episode this score. It’s an okay score for an okay episode, but after the first five episodes of the season scored 10’s or Golden Apples, it feels worse than it actually is to have to put that number down. I loved this walk through of Emma’s experiences with trust. It paints this really vivid image of the types of disappointments that Emma has seen through her lifetime of abandonment, but gave a good deal of nuance and understanding to Neal, someone who ordinarily may have been just straight up villainized. I took points because I felt that there could’ve been just a bit stronger of a growing trust between Killian and Emma. I felt it, but to be a parallel to what Neal and Emma had, I just wish it was stronger because it really just feels like Emma did exactly what she would’ve done to Killian in the previous episode. I want to see her journey and previous experiences shape her actions and while I felt like it was done okay, it was still too weak to contribute to what should’ve been a more tragic payoff. Flip My Ship - Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness” Captain Swan - “Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second.” “I’d despair if you did.” Those two lines are just the best! Everything one would want from chemistry to animosity is there and it’s just fantastic! The same goes for the famous “I love a challenge line!” Also, in two weird CS/SF parallels, (1) Neal calls he and Emma a we, whereas Emma calls she and Killian “we,” and (2), Neal calls their escape “home” to Emma in the past and Emma does the same with Killian in the present. Also also, I just genuinely love the way Emma worries for Killian after the giant falls, shouting “Hook” as loud as she can. Also, also, also, “Everything we need is right in front of us.” Note how the two of them were looking at each other. Swan Fire - I like how in Emma and Neal’s first scene, Emma raises an impressed eyebrow to Neal as he’s lying to the cop. It’s such a sign that she’d found a kindred spirit! It’s also reinforced when Emma smiles at Neal’s second request for drinks. I like how Neal upgrades their lied about relationship from “girlfriend” to “wife,” subtly signifying how their relationship has truly grown. Also, “this little guy saved us!” I know that was totally not intended to be about Henry necesaarily, but fuck it, I’mma imagine it! Also, the kiss afterwards was adorable as all hell! As was the conversation in the hotel room, and it makes their tragic downfall all the more tragic! Also, there’s a Snowing parallel I just noticed! In the hotel scene in the flashback, Emma talks about how dreamcatchers (Which is kind of her thing with Neal) kept the bad dreams away. Meanwhile, Charming used a candle (Fire = Balefire) to ward the nightmares off from Snow. Also also, “what you want” seems to be a bit of a line between them, akin to “I will always find you” and “I’m a survivor,” said twice by Emma -- once to confirm and again to reaffirm her dedication to Neal! Finally, I just love how Neal initially stands up to August on Emma’s behalf when he says he’s her guardian angel. ()()()()()()()()() Thank you for reading! And to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales to putting this project together and helping me keep the lights on!

Next time, let’s hang out with some moon kids! Season 2 Tally (57/220) Writer Tally for Season 2: Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis: (20/60) Jane Espenson (17/50) Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg (10/50) David Goodman (10/30) Robert Hull (10/30) Christine Boylan (7/30)

Operation Rewatch Archives

#ouat #once upon a time #watching fairytales #ouat 2x06 #ouat rewatch #jenna watches ouat #ships mentioned #swan fire #Captain Swan

10 notes · View notes

texanredrose · 7 years

Text

Celebrity Matchmaker (Part 2)

Meet the next contestant. Until someone clues me in to the ‘official’ name for the ship, I’m going to just start tagging it with the random ones I come up with. I can’t find any fics on FFN and AO3 and I really don’t believe I’m the first one to write this, so someone help me out here.

Part 1 / Part 2 (here) / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

Weiss watched as the Faunus took her assigned spot, the faintest twitch to her ears conveying her nervousness while she offered a composed front to the cameras. In those stolen moments spent by the horses, she'd learned exactly what sort of relationship she could expect from pursuing a romance with Blake: quiet, reserved, and with only a fraction of the passion visible to the naked eye, the true depths kept for behind closed doors. In truth, she wouldn't mind that, and she could probably coax the Faunus out of her shell a little bit with time. They’d probably never reach the point of making out on the red carpet of a movie release, but a little public affection wouldn’t hurt, and it was at least feasible. Not because she personally preferred putting her life on display for all Remnant to see but... well, she certainly had become well adjusted to the idea of public displays of affection over the past sixteen weeks, and the prospect of losing that little bit of open emotional connection dismayed her more than she was willing to admit.

If she had one regret from her time spent with the Faunus thus far, it was not telling Blake that the stolen kiss out beneath the stars was actually the first one she'd had that wasn't for the benefit of a camera or an audience- the very first kiss she'd ever exchanged purely for its personal meaning. At one point, she might've been a little embarrassed to admit such, but now she wished she could tell the Faunus how much it meant to her. Her personal thoughts, however, did nothing to slow the progression of the show as the host turned her attention to the first of Weiss’ final choices.

"Good to see you, Blake, though it's a bit bittersweet," Coco said, moving closer to the author so the shot could be framed just right. "This is probably your last time standing here at the manor. Do you have any thoughts you'd like to share?"

"Plenty, but I'll keep it short." Amber eyes flicked her way before looking towards the camera. "Spending the past sixteen weeks here, with Weiss and everyone else, has given me some of the greatest moments of my life. Regardless of the outcome, I'll truly cherish my time here."

The audience gave a round of applause, a few members vocally shouting encouragement; well, it was nice to see others saw the romantic potential between them, too. Idly, she wondered how many fans they had rooting for Blake to be her choice at the end of the night, how many were watching and hoping- she knew they had to exist, based on previous seasons, but everyone at the manor had turned over all their devices that could access the CCT at the onset of filming. So her opinion wouldn’t be ‘swayed’, according to the producers.

"Alright, let's call out our next finalist." Coco stepped back towards the movie star, tugging slightly on the formal jacket she wore. "Please, give a warm welcome to the woman of a thousand talents, the Invincible Woman herself, Pyrrha Nikos of Mistral!"

The introduction pulled her attention away from admiring the Faunus, blue eyes falling on the tall, redheaded woman now striding towards the center of their temporary stage out on the lawn of the manor. She wore a shimmering red dress with matching heels only an inch high, golden bracelets and a necklace matching the traditional Mistrali circlet she wore, emerald earrings swaying in time with her step. The sleeveless designed allowed the hard won muscles of her arms and shoulders to be on display, which she'd always admired for a multitude of reasons, and she had to admire the modern take on Mistral’s traditional formal wear. Pyrrha offered a wave and a charming smile, more than accustomed to greeting crowds that cheered her on, but this was a different woman from the one Weiss had gotten to know over the past sixteen weeks.

Champion Pyrrha, tournament winner Pyrrha, Olympic gold medalist Pyrrha- that was the woman all of Remnant knew and adored.

And she was one of the very, very few people to meet and enjoy the company of dork Pyrrha, unsure Pyrrha, fan Pyrrha- the Pyrrha the rest of the world didn't get to see, who became even more endearing when the camera crews were out of earshot.

The Pyrrha who would rather cheer others on than be cheered on herself.

The downside to starting the show's run at the tail end of summer became apparent by week ten, with late fall turning the wind cold and the sky dreary. Their excursion on horseback marked the last time they had genuinely pleasant weather for all parties; now, it erred too cold for some while remaining bearable for others. Being born in Atlas and raised among the white peaks of the northern mountains, Weiss had an affinity for the cooler weather that baffled some, not even bothering to wear a heavy jacket as the shooting moved into a nearby ice rink. It wasn't cold enough for them to use the nearby pond but she always liked the charm of a well maintained complex like this, where so many people from warmer climates regarded it as either a fool's notion or a whimsical curiosity. She'd spent well over three hours skating, either with one of the contestants or solo while the others got warmed up or cooled off. They weren't doing anything exceptionally difficult, just skating around and talking one-on-one, but she'd always enjoyed the feel of moving along the ice, the brisk wind in her face when she moved quickly or the subtler sting of cold air in her lungs when she slowed down. It just felt... liberating.

"Hello!" With a twist of her hips, Weiss turned her feet and stopped on a dime, looking over to see Pyrrha skating towards her with a warm smile, bundled up with a scarf around her neck and a beanie over her head. Being from Mistral, which had markedly warmer weather, the movie star honestly found it a little surprising that the woman had returned to the ice.

"Hello, Pyrrha. Is everything okay?" In the back of her mind, she dreaded an extension of about half the scenes- honestly, they'd spent more time teaching people to ride horseback than maintain their balance on skates, and she felt both presented equal opportunity for personal injury- purely because she'd entirely lost interest in half the remaining prospects. Trying to maintain the facade through the remaining weeks until she could eliminate them proved troublesome, especially when they were back at the manor, seeing as she could almost never let her guard down. Here, between the one-on-one segments, she could steal a few moments to herself.

"Everything's fine." The redhead smiled, coasting to a stop beside her. "It's just... the crew is taking a break before shooting the final segment and I volunteered to come tell you."

The movie star narrowed her eyes. Truth to tell, out of all the candidates, Pyrrha Nikos was the only one she immediately recognized; an accomplished practitioner in the old Huntress ways and a stunningly gifted athlete, the woman was known all over Remnant as a beloved sports icon. And while every commentator from Mistral to Menagerie would laud her ability to retain a cool head under pressure and never telegraph her moves, Weiss had come to find out that the redhead absolutely couldn't lie to save her life. She possessed far too many tells- like the subtle bunching of her shoulders and the way her gaze darted away- to fool anyone, and while that normally would spark more than a modicum of mistrust in her, Weiss couldn't help but find it a bit... comforting. Despite how obvious Pyrrha was when she told a lie, the behavior never cropped up when they were talking. Immediately before or after, when the redhead needed an excuse to have the movie star's attention or quickly depart? That was when all those little signs appeared.

It was almost like she was nervous when talking to Weiss, and wasn’t that just a funny little thought?

"Oh, is that it?" She smiled a little, pushing off to continue her lap around the rink. "Just a little delay for no reason?"

"Something like that." The taller, much strong woman followed, though those differences weren't nearly as apparent here on the ice as they normally were. Normally, the athlete's gait would be obviously adjusted so she didn't leave Weiss in the dust when the two walked side-by-side, but between them, the movie star had far more experience turning every little bit of effort put into her skates into forward motion and an innate sense of balance. Now, she was the one adjusting her strides so she didn’t leave the other woman behind. "Are you enjoying this week's event?"

"Was it not obvious?" She flashed a small smile at the redhead, clasping her hands behind her back and quickly shifting her weight around, allowing her to transition into a backwards glide. She wasn’t showing off... too much. "This was something of a pastime of mine for a number of years."

"I can tell; you're very good at it," Pyrrha replied, swinging her arms slightly to try and match the smaller woman's speed.

They shared a much different dynamic than Weiss had with any of the other contestants. Knowing about the athlete beforehand, having been a fan for a number of years, all that extra baggage made their first few interactions awkward and a tad forced, something that still made her cringe a little when she reflected on those early segments. It wasn't until one morning in the third week, when someone had turned on the television in the den, that Weiss got over that rockiness, amending the mental image she had of Pyrrha to include the starry eyed redhead sitting on the couch, completely enamored with the newest episode of some silly cartoon show that she absolutely adored.

"Thank you. You've taken to it remarkably well yourself." Without looking, she leaned to the side, guiding herself through the bend in the rink as the redhead followed. "Have you ice skated before?"

"Once, when I was very small." The athlete pushed off exceptionally hard with one skate, momentarily overtaking Weiss. It didn't last long, however; even skating backwards, her years of experience and technique beat brute strength. "Have you ever considered competing?"

"Once, many years ago," she replied, coasting to a stop while looking towards the center of the rink. After seeing that peek of who waited just beneath the athlete's calm exterior, Weiss found it easier to approach the redhead, and they bonded over that unique sensation of constantly playing a role they weren't even sure they wanted anymore, forced into a mold early and thriving despite personal misgivings. "I remember watching the Olympics one year and thinking: I could be a professional figure skater. I could be that graceful, that dedicated, that agile- I wasn't at the time, but I could be." Pyrrha slid to a halt beside her, the both of them watching an imaginary routine play out along the mostly untouched center. Normally, the camera crew would be there, using a platform to keep from slipping while they recorded the necessary video and audio. However, whatever prompted them to take their 'break' had taken the platform with it, though the markers on the ice remained. "It was a flight of fancy."

"I think you would've been good at it." Pyrrha offered, offering a genuine smile that reached all the way to emerald eyes. "Would you show me?"

"Show you?" She looked at the taller woman, confused.

"Come on, Weiss. You can do more than skate backwards." The redhead gestured to the rest of the rink. "Just... have fun."

That was another thing that had taken her by surprise; despite being serious and determined during competitions, Pyrrha was one of the first to advocate for having fun and relaxing whenever the opportunity presented itself.

With only a moment more of hesitation, she pushed off, lazily cutting large arcs towards the center of the rink while mulling over what tricks she could do. While she hadn't attempted any in quite some time, she trusted her sense of balance and muscle memory to carry her through some basics- well, perhaps 'basic' wasn't the proper word, but the movements had become old hat to her years ago. As she came to a stop in the center, an old song came to mind, one she'd known through and through since she was a little girl, from some opera or other. The words were lost to her now but she remembered the melody, and she let the music in her head accompany her motions.

She started simple, arms raised and moving around her as much to keep her balance as to direct unseen string instruments through each measure as she streaked from one side of the rink to the other, switching between skating forwards and backwards effortlessly. She spun a few times and jumped at others, following a routine she designed with every breath, tilting her head back and losing herself to the motions. Were this a professional endeavor, there would be a million critiques- her form, her footwork, being too cautious at times and too risky at others- but she could put all those aside here, with Pyrrha as her audience, because the woman understood perhaps better than most that not every undertaking had to be perfect to be meaningful, that passion could supplement skill, and that some of the most enjoyable things in life weren't for the spectacle of others.

When she finished, coming to an abrupt halt with her arms raised high, awaiting the verdict of an imaginary crowd, Weiss returned to her senses while listening to the singular, echoing applause bouncing off the rink's walls. She couldn't help but smile, noting her racing heart and heavy breathing from the exertion, and turned to see the tall redhead standing by the wall near the rink's entrance.

"I trust that was satisfactory," she said, skating towards the woman.

Pyrrha's smiled widened, reaching out to steady her as she came to a stop. "That depends entirely on if you enjoyed yourself."

"Well, when you put it that way." A breathless chuckle passed her lips, the sweat gathered on her brow calling attention to just how much effort she'd put into the display. In the moment, she hadn't registered it, too busy being lost to the sensation of the cold air all around her, gliding along to a muted melody, but now she could feel the heat in her limbs from being pushed so hard after being mostly idle the past few hours. "I did, immensely."

"Then from where I was standing, it was absolutely marvelous." She paused, emerald eyes scanning Weiss' form before she came to a decision, unzipping her jacket and reaching inside. "I'm glad you got to enjoy yourself while we're here."

"I rather liked skating with you, too, for the record," she replied, opting to omit the few others she'd liked as well. It was difficult, at times, to keep everything separate, but only the crew asked her opinion of the other contestants during her interviews, so she tried to maintain that division and maintain the illusion that only one relationship was naturally developing at a time. She’d played hundreds of roles with utter dedication- why not this one, too?

"I'm sure you did, but I also know you were holding back." Pyrrha pulled out another scarf, this one white with a little blue stripe, and quickly unfolded it, looping it around the movie star's neck. "I'm not sure if I could ever skate like that."

"I'd be willing to teach you. I've never skated like that with a partner." She left out the observation that the athlete could easily learn; she had the athleticism and work ethic for it, and she'd shown a great deal of grace and agility through her many events. Yet, pointing all that out would be the exact sort of response the redhead would receive from countless others, affirming her natural and hard won talents instead of just allowing the woman to show a bit of vulnerability every now and again. They still called her Invincible, but Weiss had learned that hearts were fragile things even in the strongest warriors. And she respected that. "But... what's this for?"

"You should know so much exertion in this sort of cool climate can get you sick, silly." Pyrrha chuckled, looping the scarf around her neck one more time before tying it in a loose knot just beneath her chin. "You've still got one more segment to film."

"That's very considerate of you." She raised a brow. "Have you been holding onto it this whole time hoping for an excuse to let me borrow it?"

"'Let you have it' would be more accurate, but, yes." A small flush crept into the taller woman's cheeks. "I noticed you packed rather light when we left the manor this morning, so I went to the gift shop when we got here."

Weiss blinked. "Let me have it?"

"Of course." Despite her blush, the athlete smiled even wider. "Now, you have a memento of your excellent routine."

For a moment, she couldn't really process it- like a gear had gotten stuck in her head- but then Pyrrha leaned down and brushed a soft kiss against her forehead, and it didn't even matter. How could anyone not fall in love with someone so endearing? She found herself shifting her weight just enough to drift forward, arms wrapping around the other woman's waist as the embrace was returned. Already, she could hear the clatter and clamor of the film crew returning, which meant the redhead would be slipping away to avoid being chided for sharing a moment when they weren't rolling, but they could simply enjoy the presence of the other for a few moments more.

So, she did.

#Celebrity Matchmaker Fanfic #Schneekos #Northern PolariBees #Pyrrha x Weiss x Blake x Yang #TRR writes #Freezerburned Pussy Magnet #Gaytorade

17 notes · View notes