#I’m biased because music is my passion and I want to have a music career

[hydesjackiespuddinpop]

I’ve never understood how the glee club was so ostracized. Like if there was a glee club at my school where everyone would just sing, write songs, and travel then sign me the fuck up

#poorni speaks #glee #I’m biased because music is my passion and I want to have a music career #but rlly #in real life I highly doubt people would be teased for SINGING

[bunny-lily]

Lift a Pen and Rewrite the Ending

Fluff for our broken fluffed-out hearts Dedicated to @bunny584 because ow. I promised fluff, so I’m delivering fluff

Pairing: Satoru x piano teacher!fem!reader

CW: just some fluff, man. We all need some happy, sappy moments in our lives with our beloved dumbass boy. 

You taught piano. Plain, simple, easy. At least, you thought so, before meeting an enigmatic man as your newest student. He played a little too well for a beginner, and seemed a little too familiar.

AN: I chose to post this on my side acc since this one was technically made for the exact purpose of writing JJK fics (same with the Ao3 acc (milk_bunny/chimeric-dreams for that one)). So, cheers to the first fic on this blog!

This was honestly scribbled down in a single sitting between 1-5 am. Please don’t judge any mistakes too harshly, I wanted to post it ASAP and not subject it to my endless course of corrections and re-writing.

This is also very short (lmao 6.7k words) for how my work is normally. Again, I just wanted to get it out as fast as I could ;w;

Music sheets laid scattered around you, annotated in messy scribbles in various colors, fonts, and sizes. A scratched out row of bars here, corrected or adjusted notes there, mindless rambles stuffed into the margins as you tried desperately to figure out which key to put your song into so that it matched the exact tone you were going for.

Not like you were some well renowned artist whose career rode on your sole ability to create magical orchestrations. No, you had barely any presence at all. The videos of your songs you posted on YouTube barely scratched a couple hundred viewers at most, with the occasional comment from a bot or scammer getting your hopes up, only for them to go crashing back down. 

No, you weren’t some notable figure in the music industry, you were just a white-collar worker that taught piano from your tiny home part-time.

It suited you, you supposed, as bitter as you could feel at times. You were just a normie, a casual passerby who liked having your fingers spring and jump across the keys of your piano. It was one you inherited from your grandmother. She was the one that taught you how to play when you were little, while your parents were busy working and couldn’t sit and entertain you all day like she could.

She taught you some essentials, too, like how to tune the piano – ‘It’ll save you big bucks, bunny,’ she insisted – and how to detect even the slightest issue it might have. She was correct about it saving you big bucks.

As shabby as the thing looked, with peeling white paint and floral designs chipping off the sides, the cover scraped to hell and back, and the brassy pedals having long lost their glossy sheen, it was in perfect shape.

In your expert opinion, anyway. You were biased, so what? You had every right to be.

Granny had left the world a while ago, her ashes situated on the short mantel of your tiny fireplace. You lit the candles every day, rested two softly smoking incense sticks on the shallow bowl to catch their ashes, and gave her a swift good-morning before you raced out your door, inevitably arriving at work with only minutes to spare.

In the evenings, you’d teach, then ramble to her about your day, wish her a loving goodnight, and go pass the fuck out. Rinse and repeat, except weekends, where you were teaching all day.

It was tiring, working two jobs like this, especially when some of the kids you taught were insufferable, but music was your passion. At the end of the day, you viewed it as worth every minute spent doing something you loved.

You liked to think she would have been proud of you.

A light tapping sound, a knuckle rapping against the wood of your open front door, caught your attention. It was a warm day, one that was too good to spend with the doors and windows closed. Natural light flooded in, casting the figure standing at the entrance in a brilliant glow that hid their features from you.

You glanced at the clock on the wall to your left, then leapt up from the floor in front of your coffee table, hurriedly and messily stuffing your music sheets into a folder. “Oh, shoot, sorry! I didn’t see the time, I’m so sorry about that. Are you the two o’clock?”

Today was a surprisingly free day for you. You only had one appointment, with a new student, if you remembered correctly. You must have gotten so ingrained in your rapid-fire notations that you lost track of time.

While you weren’t expecting an adult, since the email sounded like it was from a teenager, it wasn’t uncommon. You had students of all varying ages, anyways. It was a nice change, too; you found that adults tended to listen better than children.

A smooth laugh greeted your ears, the sound impossibly pleasant to your ears. “It’s fine,” the man said as he stepped into your home, breaking from the prison of light holding him. His stark-white hair caught you off guard first, followed by his height, and then the round shades resting low on the bridge of his nose. “That’s me.”

Eyes as blue as the most vivid summer sky peered straight through yours and into your soul, his hues almost appearing to shine in the tranquil environment of your living room, without the help of the overhead lamp you had turned off. His lips curled into a sparkling grin, giving him this sort of youthful luminance that had your heart skipping beats.

You swallowed and looked away before his gleaming smile blinded you, striding over to your piano, using it as an excuse to busy yourself and avoid eye contact with him before he made you stop breathing just by fluttering his lashes.

“Come on in,” you responded stiffly, clearing your throat to ease off the tenseness in your muscles. Why were you getting so worked up over him? Sure, he was pretty, but you’d barely spoken two sentences to him. How had he managed to get you in such a tizzy so easily, where your tongue felt tied and your pulse raced in your wrists? “How much do you know about piano?”

“Uhh,” he set down his briefcase against the wall beside your door, slipped off his shoes, and met you next to the instrument. “I know a bit.”

“Alright,” you nodded and patted the bench, then paused to think if it would be too high for him. “Do you need me to get a different stool?”

He shook his head, sliding into the seat like it was second nature to him. “Nope, this is just fine.”

“Great,” you smiled at him and tucked your skirt under your hands as you sat down on the other end. “Let’s get started, then! Are you familiar with the different notes?”

His hands took place over the keys and he slowly pressed each one down as he labeled them. “C, D, E, F, G, A, B, C.”

“Excellent, that’s awesome! You’re already a few steps ahead of other beginners,” you nodded approvingly and retrieved the thin booklet you had laid on top of the piano. You opened it and sifted through a few of the song options, picking out something a bit more intermediate for him.

It was still simple, but definitely more advanced than nursery rhymes. You found teens and adults had a more enjoyable time learning when they didn’t feel like they were being patronized. Teens especially, fickle little creatures, those ones.

“Let’s start with this one, then,” you said as you set it against the ledge in front of him. “It’s pretty easy, I think you’ll pick it up quickly.”

The song consisted of quarter-note half steps that ignored the sharp and flat keys for now. You had placed a piece of tape over the tempo indicator, finding that it put your students under too much pressure and made them stumble in their rush to follow the pacing they thought was right when they didn’t know what tempo was to begin with.

The man took a few seconds to study the sheet, then placed his fingers on the corresponding keys and began playing. 

He was a bit slow, holding some notes too long and others not long enough, but you were correct in thinking he’d get the hang of it fast. After a few runs, he was playing it decently well, and confidently, too.

“Perfect! I knew you’d get it like that,” you snapped your fingers, then picked up the booklet again, flipping the pages in search of something a little more challenging. You probably wouldn’t find it in a kiddie book like this one, so you placed it down and got up, grabbing a more advanced one from the side table nearby. “What got you wanting to learn how to play piano?”

“Ah,” he scratched the back of his head. “My dad always wanted me to learn as a kid. I finally caved in, if only to make him stop yapping in my ear during family dinners. I’m just twenty years late to the party.”

You burst into giggles as you returned to your place on the bench, placing the new song you had chosen out for him where the previous one had been. “Not the first time I’ve heard that. You’d be surprised how many later bloomers there are.”

He chuckled along with you. “Well, that’s a relief. Had me fearing I was the only fully grown student you’d see in your life.”

“Far from it,” you shook your head. “I teach a grandfather that wants to play for his grandson at his graduation next year. It’s never too late to learn.”

When you looked up at him, you found him already peering at you with those intensely cerulean irises, his sunglasses folded neatly into the collar of his shirt. You twitched, startled by his stare. He had you locked in his gaze, captivated as he observed you and you observed him.

You noticed with wonder and fascination that his lashes were as ashy white as the tresses on his head.

He really was beautiful. Those same lashes were long and soft, brushing his high cheeks whenever he blinked. His lips were plush and pink, seemingly always curled up into a permanent smile regardless of size. Life and boyish playfulness darted in those mesmerizing oases that refused to shake their hold on you, and you wouldn’t wish them to.

They were the breath of fresh air you never knew you were deprived of, the nectar of life that was water to your parched throat, the flickering mirage that came to life before your very being.

You felt drawn to him, inexplicably. There was something so…familiar about him, though you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. Like you’d seen him before, across the metro platform, or walking into the store you were just leaving, or someone walking the opposite direction as you on the crosswalk.

Where have I seen you before?

You blinked yourself out of the illusion, your lips parting, closing, then parting again before you finally managed to find your voice. “I-I’m sorry. I forgot your name, could…could you remind me?”

“Ah,” he shook his head, forgiving your forgetfulness. “Just call me Satoru.”

Just Satoru? Is that really okay?

It doesn’t sound like a name I’ve heard before.

“Alright,” you agreed regardless. “Satoru it is. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you murmured your own name in return, dipping your head down in a mini bow. You returned your attention to the music sheet, lightly tapping the back of his hand with your pointer finger. “Let’s continue, shall we?”

You noted how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. It was hard not to see it, your index finger would likely barely reach the topmost joint of his if you pressed your palms together.

Your hands tingled at the thought. You quickly shoved it aside, focusing on being a good instructor. 

Satoru continued to surprise and impress you as he mastered the songs you chose for him after trying them out a few times. Each time he made a mistake, he listened attentively as you corrected it, laying your hands over his as you adjusted the positioning of his fingers.

“Your hands are so much bigger than mine,” you snickered. “I’m a bit jealous. It’s hard for me to reach those far keys sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah,” he grinned cockily, flashing you a sultry glance between chords. “They can reach some things very easily.”

Heat rose to your cheeks and you stuttered, whipping your head away and acting as if he hadn’t completely flustered you.

Truthfully, the session was only supposed to last an hour and a half, but when you looked up at the clock, you were shocked to see you were nearing an hour longer than expected. It didn’t feel like much time had passed at all, maybe thirty minutes at maximum. Had it really been that long?

You pushed yourself up, stretching your legs as you felt pins and needles spark up in them. “Seems I got distracted twice today. I’ve kept you for an hour longer than I intended, I’m sorry,” you laughed meekly. “Don’t worry, I won’t charge extra for that, that’s on me.”

“It’s no worry,” Satoru reassured you as he got to his feet as well, delicately closing your piano with a careful hand. “Are you sure, though? I don’t mind paying for it, I did take up your time.”

He made something warm form in your chest.

“It’s fine, I love teaching. It’s not my main job, anyway, don’t stress,” you brushed away his concern. “You’re a prodigy, y’know,” you told him as you walked him to the still open door. “It’s no wonder your dad wanted you to learn how to play. I’m sure he’s proud.”

He let out a chuckle that sounded maybe a little forced. “Yeah, hope so,” he responded as he eased his shoes back on and bent down to grab his briefcase. “You’re a great teacher.”

“Thank you,” you brushed your hair behind your ear, blushing. “Ah– when would you want to see me again? I-If you do, I mean.”

The odd firmness he had a moment ago melted away, once more replaced by that handsome smirk of his. “Same time next week? Ah, hang on, why don’t I get your number, just in case? I have a bit of an unpredictable schedule.”

“Oh, sure, no problem,” you assented, taking his phone after he unlocked it and passed it to you. “You don’t like using email?”

He shook his head, watching you punch in your number into a new contact, add your name, then hand it back. “Nah, texting is easier for me. I’ll message you later tonight, yeah?”

“Alright,” you acquiesced.

“Oh, right, how much do I owe you?”

You blinked a few times before recalling that it was technically a paid session, though it didn’t feel like that to you. You murmured out the cost, and he gave you an odd look for a brief second. He pulled out his wallet, counted out a few bills, and folded them in half neatly before passing them off to you.

“Thanks for the lesson,” he grinned and waved goodbye, promising to text you later as he headed down your walkway, turned the corner, and vanished from sight.

You closed the door with a quiet poompf, staring blankly at your piano as you tried to remember how to function again. You glanced down at the bundle of money in your hand when you thought it felt a little too thick, brow furrowing as you unfolded it and counted them and holy shit that’s way too fucking much–

You rushed out of your house, down the pathway to the sidewalk, and looked for him, though you knew it was futile. He was already gone.

You tried to think of how you were going to slip the excess money back into his pocket next time you saw him, but as soon as you were inside, you raced to the folder you left on your coffee table, practically ripping it apart as you pulled out all the papers, aggressively uncapped a pen, and got to writing at light speed.

That man, whoever he was, infected you with a painful shot of inspiration that you needed to get off your chest right then and there. Your hand flew across the pages, revising entire sections you had been stuck on for weeks in the blink of an eye. Messy verses were refined, the missing notes floated into place, and by the time the moon had risen high and the timid breeze had turned cold, you had finished your song.

You looked it over one last time, a disbelieving giggle escaping you. You finished it. You finished it. This damned piece had been giving you restless nights, a broken loop in your brain that kept skipping over the unwritten parts, but one session with Satoru had seemingly given you the one push you were missing all along.

Your phone buzzed.

You opened it and tapped on the messages icon to find a text from an unknown number.

Unknown, 9:17 PM

Hey! Sorry for texting so late. It’s Satoru.

Does next week still work for you, same time?

What divine timing on his end. Right as he entered your thoughts, he slid into your DMs. 

Your fingers practically trembled with giddy excitement as you texted back instantly to confirm the time, uncaring of what kind of impression that was making on him. You were elated, feeling like you could deflate in peace at last. You gave a little victory cheer as you went about closing and locking all the windows and doors, pulling the curtains shut with so much energy, you questioned if you’d be able to sleep.

The answer was yes. After you had gotten all ready, having pampered yourself as a small reward for yourself, you fell onto your bed and passed out mere minutes later. For once, everything seemed to be going right.

––––•(-•ʚɞ•-)•––––

“How’d you learn how to play?” He asked one day as he sipped at the tea you prepared for him. He was right about his schedule being hectic at times, but he somehow managed to fit himself into having lessons with you a few times a week, rather than just the standard one.

It surprised you, but pleasantly so. He was eager to learn and improve, and you were more than happy to teach him. He made for fantastic company, too, and you found you enjoyed spending time chatting lazily with him just as much as you did instructing him.

“My grandma taught me,” you told him with a smile. “She passed away a while ago, but I like to think I’m keeping her legacy alive like this, by teaching others, and keeping that old lil’ piano alive.”

Satoru nodded in understanding. “You’re amazing at playing,” he complimented sweetly. “She did a great job.”

“Thank you,” you answered bashfully, hiding your blush behind your own mug of tea.

“What was she like, if you don’t mind me asking?”

His smile felt like the sun kissing the apples of your cheeks on a perfect spring day. Him wanting to know more about you had your heartbeat picking up in speed, chirping a new, happy melody like a canary.

You deliberated before replying. “She was a very shrewd woman, stern in her teaching, but very gentle at the same time. She was the kind of granny that snuck me pieces of candy when my parents weren’t looking. She let me stay up late playing the piano whenever I was staying at her place. I probably bugged my parents to let me stay there every weekend, just so I could play it and learn from her.”

“So you got into music young?”

You bobbed your head. “I fell in love the first time I heard her playing when I was a toddler. I had woken up from a nap one day, somehow escaped my crib, and crawled to the living room to watch her play for…man, I don’t even know how long. I was just…hypnotized.”

“She sounds like she was a maestro,” he snickered airily, though you knew he meant it.

You grinned widely, resting your chin on the curved cup of your palm. “She really was. I can show you some videos of her playing sometime, if you’d like to see,” you offered.

“I’d love to.”

––––•(-•ʚɞ•-)•––––

Satoru had been your student for a while now. 

He zoomed through the intermediate pieces into the advanced-amateur category easily, though seemed to plateau around there. Despite this, he was a wonderful student, always trying to improve himself and his skill. You knew he had it in him, he was only missing a little something he needed to tip him to the next level.

At one point, you had joked that he must have been purposefully holding himself back just so he could keep studying under you.

He laughed, and said nothing more.

By now, he reached a point where he would come in with a pep in his step, claiming he had perfected a song he wanted to play for you before you started the session. You’d find yourself (politely) seated on your couch by him, and would watch with a fond expression you didn’t know was there as he treated your piano with a touch more tender than even your own.

And you’d listen. He’d choose some of the prettiest, albeit not complicated, arrangements to play for you, and you’d find yourself slipping into a state of blissful peace. All your thoughts would drift away, and you’d absorb yourself in the music he played. 

A few sessions had been spent just like that, with him as your personal musician, and you couldn’t figure out why you felt so…happy.

You liked the emotion a lot, though, and found yourself looking forward to his every visit, anticipating the full body chills you’d get whenever he lulled you into that state of delighted serenity. You didn’t remember when you stopped charging him, and when you let him come in without knocking anymore. 

You also didn’t remember when having tea after each session became tradition, but you were grateful for the joy he brought you with his presence alone.

In fact, you decided to get him a small gift as thanks. For what exactly? His company? Patience? Entertainment? Whatever it was didn’t matter. It wasn’t anything big, either. It was a record you stumbled across while visiting a thrift shop recently.

You picked it up for two reasons. First, he divulged he had a hobby of collecting old records. Second, he mentioned he had been searching for that specific record for a few years with no luck, saying it was the last one he needed to complete his collection from that particular brand. The moment you spotted it, you grabbed it and practically bolted to the cashier, uncaring of the price.

There was no way you were leaving it there for someone else to nab it before he could. It was the most reasonable option.

Which was why you were extra giddy to see him again.

You opened the door in the middle of him reaching for the handle, stunning him for a second. That bewilderment was quickly wiped away by an excited grin that surely matched your own.

“If I knew you’d be this enthusiastic to see me, I would have worn something better,” he quipped.

You snorted and waved your hand, stepping back so he could come in. “Am I not allowed to be happy to see my favorite student? You look good no matter what you’re wearing, anyway.”

“Favorite, eh?” He teased as he closed the door behind him, leaning down to give you a quick hug. “Now I really feel like I should have worn something fancy.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that big of a deal,” you giggled, leading him to the piano.

“I dunno,” he hummed, a sly expression crossing his face. “Pretty big deal to hear that from my favorite teacher,” You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest weakly, to which he laughed openly. “Ready to get started, teach?”

What a gorgeous sound. 

“Actually,” you said, “I got something for you. Wait here a moment, lemme go grab it.”

He raised a brow but didn’t raise any objections as he sat down and tugged his tie to loosen it a few inches, saying that he’d be right there.

You had to resist the urge to skip to your room to locate the record and retrieve it from the drawer you had safely stored it in. It was your sock drawer, actually. You wanted to keep it somewhere protected while it tarried for its new owner. You sang the melody of your newest song quietly as you picked it up, inspecting the album cover for any indication that it had been touched since you last put it in there.

Pristine. Obviously aged, but in flawless condition otherwise.

Sounds from your living room brought pause to your actions right as you closed the drawer after dumping all your socks back into it.

…Was that music?

Frowning, you picked up the record and crept towards the source of the noise. You recognized it instantly – it was the most notable piece written by the notorious Gojo Saichi. It was considered the most difficult composition created within the last century or so. You’d listened to it on repeat occasionally, attempted it dozens of times, though you always fell short before the second movement started, which came early on.

Was Satoru watching a video? No, the melody was too clear and full to sound like it was coming out of a phone speaker.

Then…

You froze in the entrance to the hallway, stuck in place as you watched Satoru play the oeuvre flawlessly. From where you were standing, at an angle, you could see his precise actions and motions. Every note came to him as naturally as air, each shift in tempo as easy as blinking, down to the fragile, silk-like contrast that made the instrument sound as if it was a weeping widow, sitting on a window sill as she descanted to the moon, alone. 

His digits knew exactly where to go, when, how deeply to press, how to shift between fierce and floaty as if he was born to do exactly this.

As your eyes flickered from his hands to his face, you saw that his eyes were closed. He was doing what some musicians could only dream of ever achieving in their careers; he was uniting with the music, playing as one, letting it fill his heart, then pour out with every throb like the very blood in his veins.

The most complicated, difficult, astronomical concerto known to man in the modern age, and he was playing it like it was nothing.

Satoru must have sensed your burning gaping as his hues flickered open and his hands stilled over the keys. He looked over towards you, his mien morphing into something resembling embarrassment.

You staggered closer. “That…that’s…that piece was…written by Gojo Saichi…” You mumbled, barely able to get the words out. You set down the record onto the coffee table, already having forgotten about it.

You were flabbergasted, rattled as you came to a stop at the side of the piano. He…how could he have played that so well? Wasn’t he barely in the advanced category? That was…that was professional, grade A, genius level music he played.

“Yeah,” he grinned, and you would have believed his show of being sheepish if the gleam in his eyes didn’t give him away. “He’s my dad.”

You sluggishly dropped onto your spot on the bench, peering at the keys but seeing nothing as you unpacked the bombardment of information you witnessed.

“That’s…the– that’s the hardest piece…even I can’t…”

“I know,” he rubbed his nape. “He basically forced me to stay up day and night playing it until I got it right.”

“But…how?” You tilted your head, peering up at him from the corner of your eye.

Satoru shrugged like he hadn’t just dropped a fucking bombshell on you. “I asked him to teach me when I was a teen,” You heard him say. “I’m sorry for deceiving you,” he apologized, not sounding very sorry at all.

“I…” You labored to find the right words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly?” He asked. You nodded, and he let out a heavy sigh. 

Instead of answering immediately, he stood up and pulled you to your feet as well, pulling you into the kitchen, where he filled your kettle with water and put it to heat up.

You desperately wanted to know what exactly was going on, but couldn’t find it in yourself to rush him. He went about methodically picking out both your mugs from your cupboard, tossing a bag of tea into both, grabbing the bowl of sugar on the counter, and setting it all down on the table while he waited for the kettle to whistle. He seemed lost in thought, while you had many and none at all at the same time.

You could only observe him as he picked his words carefully.

He finally began when the shrill noise of boiling water filled the room. “I don’t know if you remember – probably not, since you didn’t recognize me – but we actually did meet a while ago. I was a lot different back then,” he said as he poured the water into both mugs, afterwards placing it back on the stove and holding his hand sideways at roughly chest level. “Maybe this high, scrawny, kind of a douchebag,” he admitted with a chuckle.

You were still in shock over the whole situation. All you could do was silently urge him to continue by leaning closer, accepting the cup when he passed it to you. Heat spread through your fingertips, easing away the frosty feeling you didn’t notice set in.

“You were playing the piano in the music room at the school we went to together. It was…honestly, beautiful. I grew up with a famous pianist for a dad, but even he can’t make music sound as alluring and gentle as you can,” he continued, awkwardly holding his own mug. “So, when I saw you again a few months ago, I couldn’t believe it was you. I always wanted to ask you to play something for me when we were younger, but could never get the nerve to.”

As he spoke, the memories were beginning to filter in through the thick haze in your brain. 

You were so focused on writing music and learning to be a great musician like your grandmother that you never really paid attention to your surroundings or the people around you if they weren’t your granny, parents, direct friends, or music teacher.

From what you did remember, Satoru was always a confident, cocky boy, shameless and loud. To hear he was…shy about asking you to play for him was hard to believe.

“So, I finally let my dad start teaching me,” he rambled on when you didn’t respond. “I’ve tried so many times to replicate the song you played, but I could never get it right. I know it’s probably a long shot, but you don’t happen to remember what song that was, do you?”

You thought back, scraping the dust off your highschool recollections. There was one piece you had hyperfocused on perfecting during the last year there, determined to play it exactly as your grandmother had.

You never did manage to master it.

You set down the tea you had only sipped at twice and walked past him into the living room, heading to your piano in a sort of trance. You slid onto the bench, and set your fingers on the keys. Muscle memory took over, the gentle tune coming to life in…how long had it been since you last played this?

You let the music flow through you, gave it access to your heart, allowed it to peer into the deepest parts of your soul, and simply followed the path it created.

“Was it this one?” You asked quietly.

When you looked up at him, his eyes were wide, lips parted as he stared at you with nothing less than amazement. “That– that’s the one. Which– what’s it called?”

“It’s a piece my grandma wrote for my parent’s wedding,” you answered. “She didn’t tell me what it’s called. I’m not sure if it has a name to begin with. She played it for me once, and I,” you huffed out a short, choked chuckle, “I became obsessed. I spent every day as a senior trying to get it right, to play it like she did, but…”

Your fingers slowed into a stop as you looked at them blankly, recalling your attempts, and the disappointment that followed each failure. You memorized it after playing it just twice, but it didn’t help you reach your goal in the end.

You startled when his hand rested lightly atop of yours, his body partially leaned over your shoulder so he could look you directly in the eye. This close, you felt his light breaths as they brushed your cheek. You could see the exact shade and hue of the teal composing his striking irises, match the exact pace of his heartbeat to a song, hear him swallow nervously.

“Keep playing,” he pleaded, sounding almost desperate. “Please.”

You obliged. How could you say no to him when he looked at you like that? When he requested it so feebly in a trembling voice that was close to cracking? How could you say no when you saw and felt first hand how his body relaxed when you filled the room with the lilting melody once again?

The music hopped and glided, playful in some parts, somber and tranquil in others. He stayed right where he was, the heat of his stomach resting against your upper back, thawing the tension in your shoulders as his hands held them gently, thumbs rubbing circles into your tight trapezius.

In every way, the song reminded you of your grandma, of your parents, of your childhood spent trying to reach a point where you were truly happy with how you played each note.

But, if that was the case…

How come you saw Satoru’s eyes when you closed yours and listened to your own hands dance across the keys? 

Why did his smile, his laugh, his touch, his voice, his everything, come to mind when you picked apart every stanza and bar? If you put together all the notes a specific way and decoded them, you swore they’d spell his name.

Your hands drifted and halted as you reached the end of the song.

Or, rather, the end of the song as you knew it.

There was a brief pause, then he mumbled, barely above a hum, “is that it?”

“Grandma never showed me how it ended,” you told him morosely. “She said she’d tell me ‘when the time is right’, but…she died before she could.”

He sat beside you and took your right hand into his. His fingers massaged meaningless shapes into the creases of your palm and the smooth plane of the dorsum. Neither of you dared break the silence, mulling in your own worlds.

Satoru was the one to cautiously cross the line of quiet, doing his best to not disturb it. He wrapped his left arm around your back, pulling you into his side while continuing to toy with your dainty digits.

“We’ll find it together,” he whispered.

––––•(-•ʚɞ•-)•––––

Truth be told, you never imagined you’d find yourself in this kind of place before – especially not in this position. 

Your hand hovered over your brow, shading your eyes from the brilliant sun as it shined low in the sky, kissing the horizon. Though it was setting, the approaching night was warm as ever. A pleasant breeze ruffled the fabric of your dress and caught the strands of your hair that managed to slip loose from the style your mother put them in. 

Stars were already beginning to dot the expanse above, glittering and so, so crystalline when you were this far outside the city. You never thought you’d get to see them so clearly, enough to point out individual constellations, and even identify Jupiter and Venus. 

You never had a reason to leave the bounds of the city before, so all this was a distant dream you might have had once when you were a teenager. 

But here you were, outside a lovely villa, surrounded by friends, family, and loved ones, miles away from where light pollution would dare to touch. The buzzing, lively chatter of dozens of guests filled the air; the clinks of glasses, the clacks of forks and knives on plates, all of it was so animated. You felt like you were in a sort of daze, overwhelmed with happiness to the point that it almost didn’t feel real.

A pair of soft lips pressed against your temple, drawing your attention to radiant, minty-ocean hues.

Satoru gazed at you with nothing short of pure, raw, true adoration. Like every fiber in his body, each and every singular cell, was dedicated to loving you.

“I have one more present left for you,” he murmured against your lips, giving you a chaste kiss right after before he stood up and raised his glass. He tapped the back of his knife gently on the side, creating a chiming noise that settled the ongoing conversations with ease.

Once all the attention was on him, he set both objects down and began speaking.

“I know we’ve already said it a lot, but I wanted to thank you all again for coming here to celebrate this day with us,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “This is truly the happiest day of my life – so far,” he added cheekily, earning him a laugh from the crowd. “So, before all the festivities end tonight, I wanted to do one last thing, if you’d all be so kind as to grant me this moment.”

Of course they would. Satoru was just that type of person. Charisma poured off him in waterfalls, charming anyone he spoke to without effort – you included.

He pushed back his chair, moving to leave. Confused, you grasped his arm and called his name.

There was a glint of something in his eyes, something you couldn’t identify, not with the light tingle of wine sitting in the back of your mind and the overstimulation of the grand day.

“Just listen, baby,” he whispered to you, then he was weaving through the guests, snaking his way to the grand piano situated off to the side of where everyone was situated. “This is a little song I heard many, many years ago, and fell in love with from the first few notes. I’d like to dedicate it to my mother-in-law, father-in-law, their late mother, and I would like to especially dedicate it to my lovely wife.”

Your mother gasped, grabbing your arm as soon as Satoru began playing the familiar melody of the song you had been taught ages in the past. It was the one your grandmother played for you, just once. It was the one she played for your mother and father for their wedding. It was the one you played for Satoru, once unknowingly, and every time after that intentionally.

The one he was playing for you now.

Your mother teared up faster than you did, reaching for a clean napkin to dab her eyes with while she waved her free hand at her face, trying to stave off the tears so that they didn’t smear her mascara, though she wasn’t succeeding. Your father was gently shushing her, rubbing her shoulder while he looked between you and Satoru with pride, and you…

You recalled the first time you heard him play the composition his father had written, when you still believed he was just an advanced player. Back then, you felt entranced.

Now, you felt completely spellbound.

You lifted yourself, carefully making your way between the enchanted spectators. A couple clutched and squeezed your hand as you passed, and a few others breathed out little congratulations to you, not risking breaking the delicate atmosphere. 

By the time you made it to him, your vision was blurry, and he was playing the last line of bars.

The arrangement floated into the placid, halcyon evening, each individual note rising like a star to join the thousands that looked on with bated breath, protecting this little moment of clement apotheosis.

His hands swept across the final few steps, barely touching the keys at all. The concluding tone resounded, fragile and silk-like, followed by a second of calm silence before the crowd erupted with cheers, hoots, and deafening applause.

Satoru rose from the bench, encircling your waist with his arms and pulling you in for a deep kiss. It echoed in you, the sweetest lullaby, the happiest composition that could never be written down identically. It was one only the two of you could hear and feel, one only the two of you could dance, live, cry, laugh, breathe, and love to.

Of all the endings you ever tried to give that precious song your grandmother had written so long ago, the one Satoru created was perfect.

Because you created it together.

––––•(-•ʚɞ•-)•–––– Banner made by cafekitsune ♥ gotta figure out how to make my own

#jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #fem reader #I'm going light on the tags fn #is this considered light lmao #fluff #jjk fluff

[johns-prince]

“I’ve seen religion from Jesus to Paul” I always thought that line wasn’t about John worshipping Paul, but about other people worshipping Paul. I mean, John is criticising religion in this song, he’s criticising worship. He didn’t believe in Jesus, so “from Jesus to Paul” doesn’t seem like it’s supposed to be about himself and his religions imo. I always thought it was about beatlemania and how people worship Paul like a god when in reality he’s just as flawed as any of us. It’d fit with John being mad at Paul.

I might be wrong of course! I never thought about it as John saying he worshipped Paul, so my point of view isn’t really well thought out or anything. It’s just what goes through my head when I listen to the song. I hope you don’t think I disagree with you or anything 🥺 I just love discussing mclennon

No, I think you’re right, but I also believe it’s more complicated than that.

I found something, and I find it really interesting:

“In this angry and bitter song Lennon attacks a number of falsehoods such as the idolatry of the Beatles and how he is the focus for many of those involved in the peace movement.” [x]

It’s incredibly curious how John went with using only Paul’s name, if that’s what this song is supposed to be about. If it’s supposed to be about the whole band itself, why only use Paul’s name in it? Why be so direct as that? We know why—

“The lyrics are some of Lennon’s most vitriolic, taking shots at religion, his parents, drugs, and even his former songwriting partner (“I seen religion from Jesus to Paul”). It presents a clear perspective on the past, a theme he would revisit on the Imagine album’s ‘Oh My Love’ the following year.” [x]

Now that make’s better sense, since I don’t believe this was taking a shot directly at The Beatles and the period of idolatry (Beatlemania), but taking direct shots at Paul. 

It’s hypocritical for him to basically claim people were worshipping Paul like some God or religion, when John was being no better in basically being quite obsessive about the man. The opposite of love isn’t hate, but indifference.

And again, if this song is supposed to be about criticizing the worship and idolatry of The Beatles, why is he only directly referencing Paul McCartney? 

Doesn’t add up. 

To me this song is not only for John to “air out” his supposed grievances, and emotions/feelings towards Paul, but to be petty, and lash out at his ex-partner.  

This song screams scorned lover to me, someone who’s clearly hurt, deeply hurt, and is lashing out and using music to convey how he feels. I don’t agree that it presents a clear perspective on the past, because it’s John in the 70s and we all must acknowledge that 70s John is not at all a reliable narrator, and often contradicted himself in interviews and double backed on what he’d say about the past, and what he had to say or feel about Paul. It’s his perspective, that’s true, but more-so a skewed perspective on not only the past, but of his feelings at the time and heat of the moment, towards Paul.

John was probably not only envious (To John, Paul is stable, he’s put together, and John recognized and acknowledged that Paul was extraordinarily talented and could very well succeed without him), but hurt that Paul, it seemed, didn’t need him to get along. A fear that most likely rooted and became a nagging insecurity, after Paul unleashed Yesterday in 1965, and then came the questions of whether Paul would leave The Beatles (John) and start a solo career. 

It’s obvious that the band broke up because of what was going on between John and Paul, their falling out due to John’s growing lack of involvement due to his use of heroin, which made him unapproachable and testy, his unhealthy escapism into Yoko and her influence/presence. In the end, it’s no real surprise that Paul left. John resented it, even if it was his fault, his doing and behavior that left Paul with no other choice then to abandon ship. 

So, Paul left him, and was planning on going solo, and launching his own band in the next year.

Now let me point something out put on your tinfoil hats let’s see if I don’t lose any of you here lol—

Now that I showed you what I been through Don't take nobody's word what you can do There ain't no Jesus gonna come from the sky Now that I found out I know I can cry I, I found out I, I found out

Okay, so I’m reading the two lyrics “There ain’t no Jesus gonna come from the sky,” and “Now that I found out I know I can cry,” as connected. While yes John didn’t seem to believe in Jesus, he was still spiritual. Now, take those two lyrics, of some messiah not going to come and how the realization of it, of the fact this religion or ‘God’ isn’t going to come down and save you— and finding this out, of course you’re going to cry. 

What you believed was going to somehow save you, save you from the miseries of life and save you from yourself, wasn’t actually going to come, or happen, that can really break person who was relying on such faith. 

I seen through junkies, I been through it all I've seen religion from Jesus to Paul Don't let them fool you with dope and cocaine No one harm you feel your own pain I, I found out I, I found this out I, I found out

Now, I do agree that John is knocking religion and idolatry worship, but also taking shots at Paul. 

But I just think John’s outing himself here, because, okay look. John’s seen through junkies— John was a junkie when writing this, let’s be real. He can say he isn’t fooled by them, but he clearly is— he was fooling himself. 

So let’s just go with John is apparently attacking The Beatles here— we all know John loved The Beatles, and had just as much faith and passion for it as Paul did. He put all his eggs in that theoretical basket. 

And throughout the height of The Beatles, who were the two always together? Who had plans about sticking together and growing old together still making music? Who two had ideas to write a musical together, one day? 

John and Paul were John and Paul, and both believed it was always going to be that way. They’d mentioned running off to Scotland to escape a potential draft, Paul had said that after The Beatles he and John would still continue making music together, that as they got older they’d even make music for other, younger musicians to play. It was ALWAYS John and Paul, like, always. 

So imagine you have all this faith in someone, all this love, you see them as a stable structure in your life, someone who rarely let’s you down, who’s ALWAYS going to be there for you, who has shared so many intimate experiences with, who knows you and has seen you without your armor on, seen the good the  bad and the ugly and still wants to be with you, who you’ve shared similar, vivid dreams with, who would experience misery and fear with you (the LSD trip), who seemingly shares a secret and unspoken language with you— only for all of it, to fall flat, for it to go horribly wrong, for them to (unintentionally) reject you, to hurt you and leave you feeling abandoned and alone. That perhaps they don’t love you in the way you’d come to the realization that you wanted them too. 

For you to realize, or feel, like they can’t save you, that they can’t fix you. Because, like you said, Paul isn’t perfect, he doesn’t always have it together, he wasn’t as stable as John believed him to be naturally— Paul’s just as flawed as any of us. He was struggling too, and simply couldn’t always meet John’s sometimes unrealistic expectations and desires.

I think in some way, The Beatles, and thus Paul, were somewhat of a religion to John. He believed in them unlike anything else. Even if partially satirical, the comment of them becoming Bigger than Jesus, I think that in itself is worship (even if that’s unintentional, or perhaps a Freudian slip) of what they all created together— what John and Paul created together. That they could become more popular than Jesus Christ himself, and the religions he’s attached too. 

So I honestly believe John was just telling on himself throughout this song. How John wrote his songs, they were personal, they had something to do with him, how he felt and perceived things, his desires and fears— even when attacking or criticizing someone, or something else. 

Cor I could be 100% completely wrong in my interpretation and analysis, and I’m just a biased McLennoner who needs to shaddup.

Now a side tangent real quick because I found this and I have something to say:

“This song includes the line: "The freaks on the phone won't leave me alone, so don't give me that brother, brother." Lennon explained the lyric to the January edition of Rolling Stone. He said: "I'm sick of all these aggressive hippies or whatever they are, the "Now Generation," being very up-tight with me. Either on the street or anywhere, or on the phone, demanding my attention, as if I owed them something."  [x]

In 1969 he and Yoko did that performative, elitist Bed In For Peace for two whole bloody weeks. Not to mention spreading all that “War is over if you want it to be,” sloganeering. Of course they (the hippie Now Generation) expected something from him, he’d been playing political activist with Yoko for attention, and he got it. So for him to be bitching about suddenly being looked too as some leading figure for these movements, I think is pretty telling. 

Like how it mentioned up there, that John had an issue being part of the main focus for those in the ‘Peace movement’, I think it’s funny, or at most annoying, how people claim John was some hippie or commie when, I think it was clear, he didn’t want anything to do with those individuals or whatever they were selling (I mean John was materialistic and a capitalist, all the boys were) John wasn’t political, he wasn’t very interested in all that, and like with most things, his fascination and interest in it faded quickly and he became bored and disillusioned by the ideologies and political figures, and dropped them.

I’m not saying John didn’t care, like anyone he had opinions and thoughts, feelings on subjects— he wasn’t seriously into politics. He wasn’t a political leader, he didn’t want to become a political figure or martyr, he wasn’t a radical of any sorts, and had admitted later on about being embarrassed about who he was during the Imagine period of his life, and regretted a lot of what he’d said or done. 

Anyway... I know this was supposed to be about dissecting the lyrical and personal(mclennon) meaning too “I’ve seen religion from Jesus to Paul,” but it really is all over the place. Sorry about that. 

#questionsquestionsquestions #mclennon #beatles discussion/discourse

[wowtobio]

Haikyuu as Idols w/ reader as their manager

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── 

[1k special]

a/n: to celebrate 1k here’s something i wanted to write for awhile, since pretty much all of the haikyuu va’s sing. i hope yall enjoy! thank you all so much for 1k followers. I appreciate the love and support, y’all too sweet and i really did not expect it all 🥺

warnings: suggestive, cursing

Kageyama

The cool, stoic member everyone biases

Is known to have a soft side that makes eveeeeryone go heart eyes 🥺

If you look up his name on youtube there is probs a good handful of compilations titled “Kags being a huge tsun for 6 minutes” 

One of the lead vocals, has a very nice baritone voice and occasionally posts covers of his favorite songs. 

As your manager, he appreciates and treasures you a lot, though he does not show it often 

He’s just shyyy he’s trying 

Even crushes on you ooooo

And he won’t give any hints other than small gestures; lingering touches, being the only one he’ll speak too in the room, leaving you your favorite snacks and drinks on your desk, etc. 

He would definitely be afraid to involve you and him in a scandal tho, precious bb is just worried 

Tsukishima

aaaa another stoic member, just not as popular as his fellow members

But i can see him having stans that are HARDCORE like it’s tsuki or die no in between. they are a cult. 

Back-up/sub vocalist but the man can DANCE he always denies it in interviews though smh

At fan meets, fans will give him dinosaur plushies. he would always blush and get all flustered while mumbling a thanks cutest shit ever

Like Kageyama, he is secretly envious of you, though he is waaay better at hiding it. to the point you feel like he isn’t even interested lol

But then there is the whole “teasing = flirting” which definitely applies here

A part of me feels like he is known to have painted black nails, like it’s his signature 

you paint his nails for him

It’s so cute, omg imagine sneaking into his dressing room just to blast music and painting his verrry nice nails (tsuki has attractive hands dont @ me) 

But never catch this boy in a scandal, never caught lackin

Nishinoya

BALL OF ENERRRGY

He hypes up the group, the concerts, everything, 100%

Main dancer and back-up/sub rapper 

He is known for being a super good dancer and fans always dieeee when he does his dance solos 

Noya tends to stand out a lot in shows, concerts or so. Intros would go something like: “Hi I’m Daichi! Hello I am Kageyama. HAAAIII I AM NOYAAAAAAH” 

His fashion sense is mwah chef’s kiss. He owns airport fashion. The best street wear around and he rocks his baggy fits to stylish red carpets. 

(you’re his stylist ofc high-five you oooo)

Speaking of you, he also is super thankful to you and shows it often it’s so wholesome and cute.

Times where he would flirt, it would be funny attempts that normally end with you giggling at his flushed demeanor after messing up his pick-up lines.

Overall, I can just see you’re more his mom than his manager. 

“(y/n)-cchi what’s on my schedule for the rest of the day?” “shower, eat dinner then practice dance” 

Daichi

Super warm and welcoming member,, he’s a safe haven

Y’all saw this coming; the leader of the group

Starts with the perfect intros ALL THE TIME. In interviews, tv shows, concerts, etc.

Lead rapper, he spits some bars ngl 

And y’all saw this coming again, he’s the dad of the group.

Like if the members are bein wild children he’s always there yelling and trying to calm everybody down haha

When it comes to you, he definitely shows his gratitude outwardly to you.

He’d probably mention you and how grateful him and his fellow members are for you occasionally on radios and shows.

You always get super flustered when you confront him about it and he just chuckles and head pats you. 

If he were to initiate a relationship with you, he would ask his fans to understand his feelings for you :,) and he would protect and comfort you from any possible backlash bcs he loves you hehe

Sugawara

The sweetheart of the group.

Absolutely UNDERRATED.

Back-up/sub vocals but has the preeeettiest tenor voice ever.

Like could sing you to sleep.

He has his own soundcloud where he uploads his own covers and he sings like Justin Bieber songs, some Bruno Mars, just any romance songs.

Twitter is HIS platform he would post small snippets of him singing and some effortlessly beautiful selcas.

Being his manager, he is super duper sweet towards you. Kinda like Daichi but he is way more flirty.

Can be super sly with his compliments. And lowkey a huuuge tease he will leave you all flustered and all he’ll do is bat his eyelashes innocently smhh

Suga will do all this but since he’s super sneaky abt it, no one will notice so he won’t get caught in that scandal ykk

But, I can see him disguising himself in some silly sunglasses and a hat when going on secret dates with you.

And you’ll giggle while trying to pull the frames off his pretty face and he’ll whine and playfully snatch at your wrists awwwh

Kuroo

Very very popular among his fans.

Once again we got another leader here. 

He is for sure the main dancer and is a back-up/sub vocalist but he probably raps a few verses in a couple of select songs.

His signature is giving cheesy pep talks that hype up the group before performances.

It’s pretty cool but once you hear his words it’s cliche and you can’t help but giggle every time you witness it. 

Speaking of you, he has a huge thing for yah

Like he probably makes it painfully obvious, but only in front of the members and staff. No fans nor paparazzi, he has a reputation to uphold of course.

But that doesn’t stop secret make-out sessions in his dressing room. 

Sometimes he’ll just pull you in, pin you against the door and just stare into your eyes with so much passion before sealing your lips with his. 

When eating with the group, he’ll casually wrap an arm over your shoulder while teasing you playfully in front of everyone.

Other times he’ll rest his hand on your thigh underneath the table wink wink. 

Kenma

Shy small boi of the group

**Most presume him to be shy at first but he will actually roast tf out of his fellow members. Yk those ICONIC moments.

Main rapper, Kenma’s got bars and he can lowkey ruin someone’s career with a single diss track 😳  (he can sing too, has a pretty voice but denies it so he avoids singing most of the time).

MMM his fashion sense as well YES. Like have you seen those fanarts of Kenma rocking streetwear, yeah he would wear exactly that at the airport or somethin. 

Ofc a huge gamer, he will most likely be seen on his switch backstage, during breaks, on the plane, during vlogs, etc.

Being his manager, Kenma finds you very endearing and he’s always blushing and nervous around you. 

He hides his face behind his switch when he asks something from you awwwh 

He won’t mention you in interviews but when he is asked he will just be like “yeah.. i guess she’s pretty cool” with a light pink dusting his cheeks.

Kenma probably wouldn’t have the courage to initiate a relationship in fear of ruining a lot of things. But if it were to happen y’all are super lowkey and good at hiding it.

Yet overall, very wholesome. If a member were to walk into his dressing room unannounced they would see the sight of Kenma laying his head in your lap and playing his games while you play with his hair. 

It’s super cute until Kenma throws some inanimate object at the poor fellow :,(

Oikawa

OH the most fitting character as an idol and for sure the most famous out of everyone. 

Main vocalist hands down (ponyo ponyooo-)

Oikawa is always and I mean always bombarded with the press and fangirls anywhere he goes.

It seems like the only time he has alone time is when he’s in his dressing room with the doors locked and he only allows you inside. 

You two naturally got closer, you were the least annoying thing in his life so he felt comfortable around you and he found it fun to tease you every now and then.

One thing led to another and uhhhh

Definitely some dressing room sex involved with Tooru

You always scold Oikawa for giving you hickeys in very noticeable spots on purpose and he just waves it off while sticking his tongue at yah.

After awhile you probably have sleepovers with him because you both enjoy each others presence so much. 

His schedule is always jammed pack so you tend to have to overwork in order to keep up and make sure everything runs smoothly. 

So late at night when you’re organizing events for the next month after doing plentiful work, Oikawa will come up from behind and scoop you up in his arms carrying you to bed. He’ll cuddle you to sleep while whispering how you’re the best manager in the world.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── 

a/n: kinda popped off for kenma bcs i haven’t wrote him in so long and i missed him hehe. same for oikawa too i just had a really cute scenario in mind. anyways, hope y’all enjoyed and once again thank you so much for 1k i love you all!

masterlist

#oikawa tooru x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kenma kozume x reader #daichi x reader #sugawara x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #nishinoya yuu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcanons #haikyū!! #haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #oikawa x reader #kuroo testuro #kageyama tobio

[ravenadottir]

what do you think of s2 character's favorite subject/s in high school? it just crossed my mind since i'm studying rn too 😅

that’s such a cool question!

i don’t think i’ve ever answered something like this, so it’s really awesome!

let’s see. 

bobby - i’m pretty sure it would be home ec. but i don’t think this subject is part of the scottish school curriculum, so i’ll say chemistry. it’s easy going and i reckon he had some experience with it, understanding the subject better because of his baking. i even think he could’ve been trying some cool experiments in the kitchen while making a batch of cupcakes for his band.

carl - MATH. no further explanations i don’t think.

chelsea - art. definitely art! i think part of the reason why she’s so connected to colors, shapes and textures is because school rhythm might’ve been too overwhelming for her, due to her adhd. all of those speak to you right away. you don’t have to understand them on a deeper level. 

elisa - art for sure. i think she was a bit of a nerd when it came to techniques, but mostly color theory. part of the reason why she loves makeup so much. after school, she was probably studying them, thinking what career she could have based off this passion she had.

gary - robotics. it’s canon he used to do a lot of it, when he tells our mc’s about his body issues. i really believe robotics and physics were his favorites.

hannah - biology. kidding, it’s math.

henrik - biology or geography. in my head, henrik was raised hopping on trees and swimming in lakes, but i think geography might’ve opened his eyes to different sceneries. 

hope - math. math, math, math. and i really think she founded tons of clubs, and was probably that person whi gives the speech in the name of the students. president of several things and a teacher’s pet.

ibrahim - p.e. seriously. his uncle introduced him to golf, so i think if his school didn’t have it in p.e (which i think it did, because he loaded), then he was preparing himself to be a professional while in p.e

jo - p.e

kassam - physics might’ve opened his eyes to see the world with new leanses. there’s a monologue from rory gilmore explaining why she loves studying physics, even if it wasn’t part of her future. “you learn to see the world in a different way. how it operates, how it lives. you can see musical notes in the air and understand how they work.” i believe this could be kassam’s case.

lottie - i’m so torn between with lottie all the time. she’s a wild card when it comes to her past in school. she could go either way, be in any group, be any girl or have any trope. i honestly don’t have a guess that makes sense, but at the same time, all of them do. i honestly don’t know.

lucas - biology for sure. i reckon he was a nerd, but it wasn’t because he wanted to be one. at least biology was easy enough to not spend so many hours trying to understand it.

marisol - english, most specifically grammar. and i’m sure she was the head of the debate team. i’m willing to bet my sweet ass on that.

noah - literature. most especifically international authors. and if i can trip and be biased here, ‘romantic era’, which had almost nothing to do with love and couples. there’s something about noah digging condorism that just gives me goosebumps! ((it’s a brazilian movement that explored poetry about abolitionism and republicanism.

priya - grammar. definitely something she thought it was useful, and maybe parts of math. no subject was her favorite. i think she just wanted to graduate and never pick up a book ever again. not because she couldn’t study, but she had enough of school and knew what she wanted.

#litg s2 #group asks #litg season 2 #fusebox #fusebox games #litg #love island the game #love island the game season 2 #litg gary #litg lucas #litg carl #litg henrik #litg bobby #litg priya #litg lottie #litg kassam #litg marisol #litg jo #litg ibrahim #litg hope #litg noah #litg hannah #litg chelsea #litg elisa

[jalapeno-princess]

Most to least: dating a classical musician

This was requested by the lovely @missiontheworld​ thank you so much for this request and I’m so sorry it took so long I hope you enjoy! (I wholeheartedly believe that each and every single member would date a classical musician and they would all be so supportive of you).

Most

Jinyoung: Since he’s an avid book reader and often goes to coffee shops on his days off, I feel as though he likes soft, classical music. Honestly, Jinyoung gives me elite, powerful and high-class vibes. I wouldn’t be surprised if he listens to Mozart or Bach every now and then and he would be extremely supportive of your career—like, he’ll have you practice in front of him and play a song for him before bed so he could have an easier time falling asleep. I can picture him turning on some classical music while he’s trying to memorize lines or attempting to write music. Maybe he’ll even ask you to play him some music just because he gets excited getting to watch you do what you love.

Jaebeom: I’m not being biased, but Jaebeom is one of the best song writers I know like—man’s mind is insane. His lyrics are always so well thought out and heartfelt(yes, even the sexual ones). With that being said, I think he would really enjoy the fact that you are a classical musician. He’d probably feel as if you have an ear for how certain melodies should sound and what tones and notes sound good together, so he will constantly ask for your input when writing his songs.

Youngjae: I wholeheartedly believe that Youngjae secretly listens to classical music in his free time. He seems to really like ballads and soul music, so I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that he enjoys classical music. He’ll probably be very supportive of your career (honestly they all would be) but he would always go to you first whenever he wanted someone’s input on his music. Youngjae has very powerful vocals and he knows that he’s an amazing singer, so he hardly ever asks anyone for advice when it comes to his music. However, he trusts you because he’s well aware you know a lot (if not more) about music than he does.

Jackson: Jackson seems as though he’s willing to experiment with all kinds of music genres no matter what kind of music it is. He isn’t familiar with classical music, but he’s willing to listen to whatever songs you play for him or put on while the two of you are driving. When he’s feeling stressed out, he’ll put on a playlist that you made for him filled with classical music (pieces that you composed or ones that you enjoy). Since he understands just how much work gets put in to writing and producing songs, he loves to help you as much as he can. Although he might not be able to tell you what works and what doesn’t, he’ll make sure to assist you if and whenever he gets the chance.

BamBam: He might not seem like the type to really care about classical music, but I feel as though he does find it relaxing and comforting(and since he gives me boujee, young and rich vibes) there’s not a doubt in my mind that he puts on some music while working on editing videos, playing with his cats or just relaxing. I feel as though he’ll tease you every now and then and tell you that classical music is boring, but deep down he’s so supportive of all your decisions and his heart warms watching your eyes light up whenever you go in to depth about your love for your career in classical music.

Mark: From the music he normally plays on his vlives, he gives me hip-hop and pop vibes with the occasional sad song here and there. Since he’s from LA, I feel like he leans towards more upbeat music and anything that is popular at the moment. But best believe he’s supportive of all that you do. Every performance you have, he’s dead center, cheering you on like the supportive boyfriend we all know him to be. He’ll also let you practice in front of him and I feel as though he’s the type to grow curious with wanting to try out an instrument—but once he realizes just how difficult it is to learn, he’ll leave the classical music to you.

Yugyeom: I’m genuinely basing this on the kind of music he listens to and just like Mark and BamBam, he listens to a lot of hip hop and rap. But that doesn’t mean he won’t support you and your passion! I’m sure he’d be interested in listening to you perform some music for him and he’d be very curious as to how you ended up choosing classical music as the career you saw yourself doing for the rest of your life. He’ll even jokingly dance along to your music just to make you laugh.

Least

#got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7

[dariamalek]

Empathizing With The Enemy: How Toronto Artist BØNES Highlights My Newest Theory

I have never experienced confidence in hip hop music until I began listening to Toronto artist, BØNES. 

I had mentioned before on my Twitter that I am taking a different turn on this blog for the next few posts. Given the restrictions of COVID settling slightly since the end of summer, (please don’t jinx it, I live in Ontario people) I have had the chance to finally go out and explore the music scene of my city physically again and I’ve realized that I have taken a lot of these artists for granted. 

In all honesty, I hadn’t experienced hip hop music in the modern scene. In fact, music that is labelled as “hip hop” in the modern century turned me away because of it’s egotistical and materialistic themes; especially when it came to new artists trying to “make it big” in the hip hop industry.

My only experience and/or knowledge of hip hop comes from my dad’s old Biggie and N.W.A records as well as the really old Kanye songs I had downloaded on my iPod when I was in high school. However, there’s something so enlightening about BØNES’s music that is different to what the new up and coming artists are putting out. 

BØNES, also known as Joe to the peasants that have the honour of interacting with him on a normal basis everyday (myself included), is a hip hop artist from Toronto, Ontario - which is something you don’t hear everyday (subtle Ontario satire for you there, I’ll wait for the applause to end). I actually have the honour of knowing Joe outside of his music career and I think it is his positive, down to earth personality that gets portrayed so vividly in his music, that makes him such an interesting artist. However, I will be referring to him for the rest of this post as Joe - not just because I want to be a little less formal but also it is extremely difficult to continue to press and hold the O key and click 6 consistently. I may or may not have arthritis by the end of his post which would totally be worth it if it meant the last thing I ever typed was BØNES in all caps. 

Though it’s different to determine what exactly makes BØNES music so unique, I seem to catch myself finding similarities between him and an artist from Detroit, Michigan who calls himself JMSN. Though their music is completely different - the concepts are quite similar. Take a genre, modernize it and make it, well BØNES. For example, I very vaguely classified Joe’s (arthritis is kicking in) genre as hip hop however, I really don’t think “hip hop” is what it is. Let me explain. 

According to writer and essayist Greg Tate, who had also written a fabulous essay called Everything But the Burden: What White People Are Taking from Black Culture, hip hop is a  “complex culture comprising four elements: deejaying, or “turntabling”; rapping, also known as “MCing” or “rhyming”; graffiti painting, also known as “graf” or “writing”; and “B-boying,” which encompasses hip-hop dance, style, and attitude, along with the sort of virile body language that philosopher Cornel West described as “postural semantics Tate, 2021).” Interestingly enough, other than “rhyming,” Joe’s music doesn’t necessarily embody all aspects of hip hop; it evolves them the way we wish modern day hip hop does. 

However, one part of his music that embodies the ideologies of hip hop is something called the “knowledge of self/consciousness (Tate, 2021).” I personally believe that this aspect should be at the top of a genre so popular such as hip hop. None of these newer artists embody this aspect which is disappointing to say the least because, as a genre predominantly African American occupied and originated, this genre should scream confidence and self strength. This was done by older hip hop artist who would use their music and platform to talk about their struggles as a community, eg. Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, "The Message" (1982). 

And the beauty of hip hop is portrayed through language. See, modern day hip hop (please don’t ask me to name any of these artists, I will butcher anything that doesn’t start with “Lil”) seems to be riddled with very forward, egotistical remarks about how much wealthier they are than everyone else, how many “chains” they have or my personal favourite: how many “bitches” they have. Please, this USED to be a PG blog but look how far we come. We’re saying “bitches” on this blog. 

There’s a difference between saying that and “now I’ve been stuck in this place and I’m aiming to grow (Thankful, 2019)” or “came a long way and I’m so damn proud (I Ain’t Miss A Damn Thing, 2020).” This switch in language embodies confidence in a way that is personal to the listener themselves rather than make them feel discouraged about now being at the same social class as the artist. 

Joe’s (arthritis is back again) music is so empowering and cleverly phrased, as well as the context is all based around growth as he shares his experiences through his journey of self growth; by using a theory I like to call “empathizing with the enemy-” ahhh yes, we’re getting psychological in this one. You thought we were done with all the psychology. WRONG.

This theory is based around how individuals gain personal profit by “empathizing with the enemy.” This theory is embodied in this one BØNES lyric, and dare I say invented it: “I can’t really blame [him] if he’s nervous.” After listening to BØNES’s music, I began looking into the difference between gaining confidence and growing confidence. Gaining confidence is filled, or I guess ironically, is an empty confidence that is filled through materialistic things or bullying in order to fill a void in their character; a doubt that if they’re not on top, they will never amount to anything. This is so popular in modern day hip hop, when artists give value to sex, drugs and other controversial things in order to stay relevant or seem like they are “above” something. This does nothing for the listener; in fact, it does the opposite. I originally began researching this theory through literature; the effect words have when put together, the difference between “I can’t really blame [him] if he’s nervous” and “he should be nervous.” Notice how the words are similar, but the first one seems less demanding and forceful, where as the other one seems much more confident and self preserved; the concept of “you don’t have to like me, I like myself,” as corny as it sounds. 

BØNES idolizes self growth, which is a constant theme in his music, and self consciousness. My theory is because of how far he has come as a person, and I am sure that the reason he is as charming and kind to everyone as he is, is simply because he is happy and kind to himself. And that means a lot when it comes to being an artist. 

Many artists chose to fill a void with their art while others use it to spread the love and passion they have when they practice their art with others. This is so evident in BØNES’ music and it’s what differentiates him from newer artists trying to make it today. Rather than give in to the normal, consistent and boring themes of hip hop, his bubbly personality has changed the lyric game for the better. 

Why is this important? Music is such a huge effect on the listener, the language more than anything, and it’s important that we understand the effect language has on people, especially in music. I am biased, as an English major, but if you’ve read my essay “Making Love vs. @&!$ing: How Music Has Watered Down The Value of Romance,” you probably already know my views on how important language is when it comes to music, mostly because lyricism evolves from poetry...I say as I look at the gigantic portrait of Shakespeare hanging from my wall. Or even compare different ways heartbreak is portrayed through music - that new Olivia Rodrigo song on Tik Tok versus “I Would Rather Go Blind.” 

LANGUAGE IN MUSIC IS IMPORTANT. And BØNES understood the assignment. Let’s just say, I have a gym playlist especially made with Thankful and I Know on them because I feel just a little bit more confident when I look in the mirror afterwards. 

As I begin this new series with pride in my little province (another little satirical joke for my Ontario people) and the artists within it, I want to urge you all to go listen and support your local artists and talents. 

Oh and also go vote. Thanks. #OCanada

#canadian writer #canada #canadian critic #music #hip hop #poetry #lyrics #new artist #rapper #singer #musician #psychology #language #literature #canadian author #writer #author #blogger #novelist

[yourcoffindoor]

Bulletproof Heart Pt.2

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Prompt: Request from Anon- “ could you write one where the reader is a rock singer and they and mcr are on warped tour together, and they both lowkey like each other but think they’re both out of each other’s league, and find out that they’re both secretly into nerdy stuff + maybe getting together?

TW: Mentions of an abusive relationship.

AN: The plot thickens. Sorry for the delay in uploading <3

Enjoyyyy <3

That night after everyone had stumbled back to the bus in a tipsy stupor, you couldn't shake the thought of your encounter with Gerard from your brain. And what's more, you hated yourself for it. For awhile you tossed and turned, hoping the unwelcome feelings you had would fade to nothing so that you could fall asleep at last.

But your curiosity got the better of you, and there was only would person who could give you the answers you were looking for.

"Hey Gavin, are you still conscious?" you whispered from your bunk. You heard the rustle of sheets moving in response.

"Hmmm?" a low and sleepy sound of acknowledgement answered.

"I'm just wondering...what do you know about Gerard Way?"

As soon as the words left your lips, Gavin's curtains swung open with superhuman force.

"Y/N are you in love with Gerard Way?!" Gavin's voice was no longer tired, having morphed into a sharp and excited whisper. In addition to being the band's social butterfly, he always knew the gossip about everyone within a 20 mile radius.

"Christ, really Gavin? We only spoke for like fifteen minutes."

"So it was like a love at first sight situation?"

"You are so annoying, I swear to god."

"Do you want info or not?" he threatened.

You sighed. "Fine, yes I do."

Gavin cleared his throat as if preparing for a presentation. "OK, so everyone has something good to say about him, seems like a really genuine guy. I've heard he was in a long term relationship for ages, but its been broken off for awhile now. "

"Hmm," you murmured, trying to sound indifferent, "yeah he seems like a sweet guy."

"Yeah and every girl with a pulse seems to be after him. You got some competition out there." he teased. "But seriously, if you're interested you should go for it. You deserve to be happy, Y/N. It's been three years since...you know who."

Gavin didn't say his name, but he had said enough to bring on a wave of sad memories. "Thanks. I'm uh, feeling pretty tired, so... I'm just gonna get some sleep."

"G'night." Gavin said softly, as if aware he had brought out long buried and very unwelcome feelings.

You rolled over in your bunk, pulling your blankets up over your head, unwilling to dwell on the memories that had been drudged up by only a few words. Three years ago. That's when you finally had the strength to break it off with Alex.

You were a different person when you met him. It was your first relationship, and you were naive and forgiving, unable to see the dozens of red flags that should have made you run away from it all.

You had answered an ad that he had posted asking for potential band members for a punk band he was forming. It had been your dream to pursue music, and you responded right away, hoping you'd hit it off. You weren't expecting Alex to be so damn attractive, and when your audition was successful, it was only a matter of time before a relationship began to develop between you.

He was older than you, more experienced, and eager to take you under his wing where he could have the most control. You mistook his over-protectiveness as a sign of love, and he slowly cut you off from people outside of the band, leaving you isolated and dependent on him.

Eventually he would get angry if he saw you speak to any other man. He took your phone regularly so that he could look through it, questioning you about anything he didn't like. The fights you had were loud and ugly, your voices rising and crashing like cantankerous bursts of thunder. Eventually, they became violent.

You were stuck in a cycle of affection and fear, held there as if caught in a tide that would never bring you back to shores of sanity. But you did eventually find the strength to get out when your friend reached out to you, offering you a place to stay. You packed your bags that night and didn't look back.

Your band was not just a career for you, it was a symbol of healing, proof that you were able to overcome it all and strike out on your own. You rolled over in your bunk, and pushed the unwanted memories aside, reminding yourself of the promise you had made to be the best damn band on Warped tour. Nothing was going to change that now.

x x x 

Your first performance went by in a haze of adrenaline and sweat. The crowd was young and eager to see what you had to offer, and you were all to happy to give them something they'd remember for a long long time.

There were several people in the crowd who were fans already, proudly wearing your band's shirts and mouthing along to all of the lyrics. Others were slowly converted, headbanging enthusiastically by the end of your set. When the band's final song was met with deafening hoots and cheers, you'd felt like you'd accomplished your mission.

"We fucking killed it!" Gavin declared as he slumped in the nearest chair, exhausted.

"The crowd was good, huh?" you beamed as you wiped the sweat from your face, still breathless from your onstage antics. "Let's hope they're all like this."

"Can't get any worse than our first show ever, remember?" Liz laughed as she recalled the groups early days. "Never had so much beer pelted at me in my life."

People milled about as you and your band mates caught your breath. A few musicians from other bands popped in to say hi and let you know that they enjoyed your performance.

"Hey you actually made it!" Gavin jumped up from his chair as he noticed a new face entering the backstage area. "Guys did you meet Frank last night? From My Chemical Romance?" A man with wide hazel eyes gave a quick wave from the the entryway.

"This guy was goin on and on about how you guys were the best new band on warped tour. Had to see if he was just full of shit."

"He always starts bragging when he's drunk." you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I'm glad he did. You guys put on a pretty kick-ass show. Plus Gerard really wanted to check it out."

Your heartbeat, which had only just settled from jumping around on stage, began to speed up again.

"Gerard?"you asked softly, caught off guard by the mention of his name.  You didn't see the familiar black haired boy near frank. You only saw Gavin attempting to give you a discreet wink, which you returned with a harsh glare.

"Yeah actually we were all there. Mikey and Ray had to run to another show. Don't know where Gee disappeared to though," Frank craned his head, looking around at the hustle and bustle that was happening permanently everywhere on Warped tour. "Ah, there he is. Gerard!"

You saw Gerard, surrounded by a small circle of fans, each holding something they wanted him to sign. You felt a strange pang when you noticed they were all pretty girls, and Gavin's words from last night came back to haunt you. You got some competition out there. You struggled to identify just what emotion was suddenly eating away at you--were you really jealous? Or was it the realization that even if you decided to make a move, it was probably hopeless?

Gerard nodded at Frank. "Be there in a sec!" he shouted, continuing to sign autographs until he had gotten through everyone.

Frank spoke with your band mates, but you were too distracted by the knowledge that Gerard had watched you perform to be sociable. You were anxious as to what his opinion would be, but tried to push it out of your thoughts.

You watched nervously as Gerard spoke to Frank and Gavin, noticing that he would glance over at you every so often. When your eyes finally met he gave you a nod and a warm smile. You gave yourself an internal pep talk to try and stay calm. You can just be friends, you don't need to do anything except be friendly. For the love of god, act normal.

Eventually he made his way over to you,offering another soft and lopsided smile,but his time it almost seemed as if he was shy. "Great show. From one lead singer to another, your band has a fucking killer sound."

You thanked him, grinning like an idiot while cautionary alarm bells went off in your head.

"I might be a bit biased though, because of the shirt your wearing."

You looked down, having forgotten what you threw on that morning. It was one of your favorite shirts,  a short sleeved tee with the X-Men symbol emblazoned on the front. You'd had it for years, as evidenced by the smattering of small holes peeking through the bottom edge. Oh no, you thought, he likes comics too?

"You're a fan?" you asked coolly, a stark contrast to the giddy panic that was building up inside you.

"Yes! I actually wanted to make comics before My Chem was a thing." He spoke animatedly, his round hazel eyes widening even further. "But life had other plans. Not that I'm complaining."

That familiar heat rose in your cheeks. This conversation was dangerous, and you were trying desperately to fight the feeling that this man was something close to perfect.

The world around the two of you became an insignificant blur as you both discussed comics at length, and you hung on every word, taking turns revealing how you first discovered them and sharing your favorites. He even recommended a few titles that you had never heard of. His demeanor was passionate and lively, entirely different from the sullen boy you met the night before.

"I uh, I'm actually working on a comic at the moment," he began, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, suddenly bashful, "If you're interested you should stop by the bus sometime--"

Gerard's eyes focused on something just behind you, and you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder. You turned and felt your stomach drop to a sickening low. There, standing next to the drunk who was hitting on you last night, was your ex-boyfriend Alex.

"What are the odds!" he smiled at you, blank looking smug beside him. You found yourself at a loss for words.

"What...what are you doing here?"

He scoffed. "Ouch Y/N, is that anyway to say hello? I'm here for the same reason you are." He turned his attention to Gerard. "I'm Alex. Y/N and I used to have a band together back in the day. Well, a bit more than that actually." He smirked at you, instantly transforming any butterflies you had felt while talking to Gerard into pure revulsion.

This was your worst case scenario, and it was one you had never even considered to be possible. Seeing his face again made you freeze up, and you were at a loss for words. You looked up at Gerard through your eyelashes, wondering if the dark and overwhelming swirl of emotion inside you was showing on your face. His brows were furrowed ever so slightly as if he could sense that something wasn't quite right.

"Nice to meet you," he replied curtly before turning his attention back to you. I'll uh, let you catch up. I'll just be over there with Frank...if you need anything."

You merely nodded, too caught up in your feelings to respond properly. "I'll catch you later then."

Alex saw this opportunity as a chance to reach for an embrace, but you stepped back and out of reach.

"Just what the hell are you doing?"

"What are you implying? I'm just dropping in to say hello before Midnite Heist performs later. I'm their new drummer after all. I can't even do that?"

"No," you said, struggling to maintain a low voice, "You can't. I told you I never wanted to see you again. We may be on the same tour, but that doesn't mean you can approach me. Don't try it again."

He laughed, clearly embarrassed to be spoken too like that in front of his band mate. "If you're trying to get with that Way guy, don't bother. You're punching way above your weight with that one."

You took a moment to steel yourself, and decided to walk away rather than let thing turn into a scene. Before you turned to leave, you offered one final warning.

"I haven't forgotten what you did to me. Speak to me again and you'll regret it."

You walked off, hearing mocking 'Ooooh's from Alex and Brent as you left. You saw heads turning in your direction as you stormed away towards the bus, including Gerard's, but you couldn't be bothered by that now- not when you were struggling to keep it together.

Fuck Fuck Fuck your internal monologue looped on a bitter repeat. This was going to be the longest tour of your life.

#gerard way fanfic #gerard way x reader #gerard way imagine #mcr fanfiction

[nichighland]

Intro to Nicolette

Hi everyone and welcome to my blog!

First and foremost, I wanted to introduce myself and the purpose of this blog. My name is Nicolette, and I currently am getting my Master’s in Learning Design and Technology from Purdue University. I currently live in Chicago and work in recruitment marketing, but I’ve always had an extreme passion for learning.

Before diving into my background, I wanted to post some fun facts about myself:

·       My favorite things include country music, the Chicago Cubs, and Italian food. Any combination of these and I am extremely happy!

·       I have 4 of the most perfect nieces/nephews – ok, so I might be biased but I promise you they are the BEST

·       I’m constantly on the search for a new recipe to cook or a new book to read. Any recommendations? Send them my way!

·       I recently got a mini-golden doodle named Cap. He’s 9 months old and has helped make quarantine a lot more fun. I posted a picture of him at the end of this post.

Before moving to Chicago, I received my undergrad degree from the University of Illinois. This master’s program was brought to my attention about 2 years ago, and it caught my attention right away. Although I’ve worked most of my career in account management and marketing, I never knew exactly what I wanted to do after graduation.

Starting at a young age, we get asked the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?”, and it scared me that I didn’t know. I did know I liked people, building relationships, and was always looking to learn more. After finding this program, I was ecstatic because I felt it played to these strengths.  This program has allowed me to try many new things (design trainings, eLearning Modules, and design papers), challenged me, and helped me grow in my career.

The purpose of this blog will be to dive deeper into Human Performance Technology. You can learn along with me as I share my discoveries, explanations, and insights I learn in this class.

Thanks for reading 😊

[thequeerwitch]

Dancing In The Starlight

Gordon Ramsay x OC

Word count: 1611

Rating: PG-13 

A/N: Kinda posted this on impulse, I wrote this a while ago and reread it to see whatever edits it needed, but it honestly seemed pretty solid so I posted it. This fic does include an OC named Yvette, the profile preview isn’t up yet but it may be up when you’re reading this. Also, this kinda ends abruptly cuz I was planning on writing more and delving into adult content, but I didn’t think it really fit the vibe of the rest of the fic. I’ll work on the 

          When the party grew dull, I went out for fresh air. The marble balcony overlooked an elegant garden, perfectly pruned and cared for. I leaned against the railing, the chill arose goosebumps against my bare arms. I looked down at the garden—roses of all colors peppered the deep planes of green hedges, surrounding a marvelous three tiered fountain. I turned back to the party. Contestants were mingling in extravagant gowns and suits while a camera crew recorded it all. Some dancing together, others enjoying themselves at the bar, and a few glared across the room at each other to give the cameras something interesting to capture. The life of reality television. I turned my back to the window dividing the balcony and the ballroom. I was glad to be alone for once, away from the constant buzz and chatter of my colleagues. I wanted so badly to feel happy for the winner of the show as Chef Ramsay presented her at the ceremony, but I couldn’t help but linger on the subtle taste of victory that I had for a moment. For one moment as she and I stood side by side, Chef Ramsay eying us both, I knew I was going to win. My heart raced, and my palms were slippery from sweating. Gordon gave me one final, remorseful glance, and he chose the other contestant. Sure, first runner up wasn’t too bad, it would look great on a resume. But it wasn’t winning. It was soul crushing disappointment, and the knowledge that my dreams were over.

          A pair of footsteps trailed outside and stopped right behind me. I couldn’t face them, whoever it was. In fact, I really didn’t care. But I knew the cameras were on me, so I plastered a smile to my face and turned. There she was, her wine colored gown hugging her curves a little too tightly, and a cocky smirk painted across her face in scarlet lipstick.

          “Congratulations,” I said. “You really deserved this victory.”

          “I know.”

          “Is there something you wanted to say?” I asked.

          “I just wanted to step away from the cameras and have a chat, y’know, contestant to contestant.”

          “Alright.”

          “I told you Gordon favored me.”

          “And I told you I don’t really care.”

          “Oh, I know you care. You said it yourself in the first episode, all you wanted was his approval.”

          “That has nothing to do with it, everyone wants his approval. Just because you got his ultimate approval doesn’t mean you can be a prat about it now.”

          “Now, now. Don’t be a sore loser.”

          I swallowed back a retort and held my head high. “Sure, you’re right. I don’t want to ruin your night with my sour feelings. Let’s just call a truce here, yeah?” I extended my hand to her, trying to make my face seem as friendly as possible.

          She quirked her lip up and approached, grasping my hand and bringing my close for a hug. Then she whispered, “As long as you know that you’ll always be number two. You’ll never be a master chef as long as you live.” She pulled away, offered a smile, and returned to the party.

          My hands shook at my sides, tears threatening to ruin my makeup. I turned back and leaned against the railing, covering my mouth so I wouldn’t sob too loudly. I couldn’t go to the bathroom, that meant passing by a number of cameras and being caught by more contestants. I had to pull myself together and get out before someone found me like this.

          “Yvette?” His voice was low and gentle, I knew who it was without needing to see him.

          Shit.

          I couldn’t bear to look at him, I couldn’t let him see me like this. Chef Ramsay came closer, and a warm hand closed around my shoulder. I instinctively pulled away tried to hide my face. “I’m fine, I just—I needed some air.”

          “Yvette, look at me.” His fingers came to my chin and beckoned my face to him. I met his cool, blue gaze. His sandy hair was fashioned out of his face, and he wore a flattering black suit and a red tie to match the member of the team who won the season. “Talk to me, what’s bothering you.”

          I pulled away. “I know what it looks like, I’m not upset about not winning.”

          “Alright,” he said.

          “I’m not sure it’s best to speak of it like this.”

          “Why?”

          I decided it was best to lie. “It’s…personal. Personal business.”

          “I get it if you don’t want to talk. But may I do something to get your mind off of it?”

          “I don’t know if there’s anything you can say that will help.”

          “Dance with me?”

          I turned to him. “What?”

          Gordon presented his hand to me with a warm smile on his face. “Yvette, may I have this dance?”

          I hesitated for a moment. How could I do this with the man who was—and for all intents and purposes, still is—my boss? Then again, this may be my last chance to rectify this. In some way, this may be the approval I needed from him, and maybe more. I took his hand and he lead me out into the middle of the balcony. His hand glided to my waist and while his other held onto my hand, and I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. We swayed for a moment, the slow music flowing with our steps. For a moment, our hearts were in sync as we spun slowly in place. I didn’t care about the cameras, or the contestants, or even the woman who won in my place. It was just Gordon and I together, and everything melted away. His hand tightened around my waist and brought me closer to his chest. I could smell his musky cologne now, feel his breath against my face as he exhaled. He brought his forehead down to mine, and I closed my eyes. He squeezed my fingers and brought my hand to his neck. My fingers shakily grazed the soft edges of his hairline. Our noses touched at the end more then once, and I felt his breath against my lips. And in that moment, all care and dignity went out the door. I brought our lips together, and he kissed me back. His hands rode up my waist and to my shoulders, one hand cupping my cheek as he turned his head to deepen our kiss. My pounding heart ushered gentle warmth through my body, toes curled in my shoes. I could taste the sweet cherry wine on his soft lips. His thumb grazed against my cheek, bringing me as close as he could to kiss me again. I rested my hand on his chest and he gripped it tightly. I could tell he didn’t want this to end anymore than I did, but any further and we would be undressing ourselves for the public…the party…the cameras.

          I broke away for a brief moment, only for him to dive in for one more kiss before obeying and pulling back. My entire body felt hot, but for a different reason this time. I didn’t want to look away from him in fear of what I would see if I turned towards the party, and from the look in his eyes, he felt exactly the same way. I rested my chin against his shoulder and spun so I could get a glimpse of the party. Thankfully, it appeared that everything had gone on without notice. I whispered, “We’re clear,” and I pulled away, locking my hands behind his neck. I didn’t know what to say, so I watched over his shoulders to avoid looking him in the eye.

          “Y’know,” he finally said. “This is why I couldn’t choose you.”

          I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut. “You don’t have to explain, she really deserved—”

          “You and I both know that’s a load of shit. She’s an excellent cook, yes. She has the skills to handle a restaurant of her own. But she doesn’t have the attitude, or the passion that you have.” He brushed his fingers across my cheek. “I let my feelings get the best of me, which is why I couldn’t let you win. It would be too obvious. The viewers, and even some of the chefs, are starting to take notice.”

          “Notice to what?”

          He chuckled. “Seriously? They keep saying I’m soft on you, they think I fancy you. They have no idea that they were right, which is why letting you win would have destroyed both of us. If you wanted any hope of a successful career, I had to make it clear my feelings weren’t biased, and I let the clearly inferior chef win over you.”

          “You—you let her win…because you loved me?”

          His grip loosened on my waist and he stopped swaying. “I’m…sorry. I know how you must feel.”

          “No…no, it’s not that. Earlier, I thought my career crushed. I honestly thought I wouldn’t achieve my dreams…but being here with you, it makes me realize that my dream has only begun.”

          He held my close and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “That’s what I wanted. This night is about you, not her.”

          “We should probably go back,” I said. “What if the cameras see?”

          He hesitated, then pulled away and released me, his warmth and muskiness left with him. “You’re right. But…I want to see you again.”

          “I’d like that.” 

          “We can discuss the details in the morning. For now, go mingle and enjoy your night.” 

          “Yes chef.”

          “Call me Gordon. I’ll see you in a few hours.” He kissed my cheek then returned to the party. I stole a few moments of victory to myself, smiling into my hands to avoid squealing, then I returned to the party with a new kind of confidence. I mingled with a few contestants who congratulated me on making it so far, apologized for my disqualification, and even went as far as to say I should have won. All through, I remained humble and praised the winner, probably more than she deserved. Her words whispered through my head a few times, “You’ll never be a master chef as long as you live,” but I kept thinking of Gordon, the breathtaking kisses he left against my lips and his earnest words screamed over the vile poison that tried to plague my thoughts. I didn’t let her words drag me down, tonight was my night and I was going to act like it.

#gordon ramsay #gordon ramsay imagine #master chef #hell's kitchen #gordon ramsay x reader #oc

[readersguidetotheuniverse]

Folie a Trois: a group read of... More Than Maybe by Erin Hahn

The supporting characters

Ariadna: From Zack to Meg, Phil to Marcus... I really liked that the supporting characters had background and depth... for a YA romance novel, that it is. Ok, they are not the deepest, most exceptional characters –they are a little bit stereotyped, and everything is sooo rose-coloured tinted–, but I appreciate how the relationships between them are depicted and how every one of them has their own unique quirks and background story. Nevertheless, I must add... I think Hahn’s attempt to make all the characters these goody-two-shoes has made some characters sort of a decaf version of what they should realistically be, see Charlie Greenly, Phil Josephs, Cullen... At times they were so soft they became even boring to me. I understand Hahn’s religious views, but honestly, no one is that good.

Alicia: I liked the supporting characters quite a lot, actually, all of them. In many young adult novels you find rather flat secondary characters that only exist to complement the main characters, but not in this one. All of them were complex, with their own defined personalities and their own stories. There were a few moments when I got a bit irritated by someone's actions, Cullen uploading Luke's song behind his back, for example. But real people are flawed and make mistakes so it's only fair that fictional characters do, too. 

Marina: First off, I have to say I loved all the secondary characters. I have to agree with Ariadna though, they are not overly deep but they get you right on the feels. I especially enjoyed seeing the different relationships between them –Zach and Cullen <3–. To be honest I found it a bit frustrating that they all kept telling Vada how amazing she is and how well she’s doing but it takes Luke, a person whom she’s officially met recently, to stand up to her dead-beat father. Talking about fathers, Phil is an amazing father figure and I’m really glad he at least encouraged Vada to follow her dreams. On a side note, can I just say that the first time I read about Cullen and Zach I pictured a more lanky version of Emmett Cullen dating Zeke (from high School Musical)? And that’s why I found it hilariously amusing when they started talking about Teen Wolf. Whatever happened to those DVDs?!

The ‘Bad Apple’ club aka Charlie Greenly

Ariadna: We all grasp to certain extent how business —corporate, big-money businesses— work, and it is understandable Charlie’s nasty partners took advantage of a teen’s rage burst, but, oh, man, how it bothered me when they tried to ruin poor Phil’s fund-raiser... What bothered me the most, though, is how Charlie Greenly was that blind, how he couldn’t see, beyond his own interests, how important the Loud Lizard was for Luke, his friends and for Ann Arbor, or to what extent the whole ‘Break for You’ issue bothered his own son. I honestly think his heroic act at the end doesn’t quite redeem him of the harm he has done. Besides, Charlie was supposed to be a Punk-rock star... What’s really left of that personality? Has her wife and kids completely transformed him into a dull wimp? Not quite believable, this character is. 

Alicia: Charlie made me so mad at him that sometimes I wanted to throw the book across the room. I understand parents always think they know best, it's in their parent DNA. But it was really frustrating and irritating how he kept trying to get Luke to do whatever he wanted, without considering what his son actually wanted. He kept trying to convince Luke to do something he had stated time and time he didn't want to do and was not going to do. He used him for his own interests and treated him kinda badly just cause he didn't fit with his own expectations for him. Realistic as it could be for most people, it's still shitty. It's almost cathartic how he redeems himself at the end by quitting Bad Apple to support his son but that doesn't change his shitty behavior towards Luke during most of the novel. 

Marina: I mean Charlie didn’t seem the brightest of the Greenly family, to be honest. I think he should probably listen to his sons more (and his wife). I find it hard to believe he didn’t know what he was getting into. He was a famous punk-rocker at a time where you had to be clever and sharp-witted, like, is he smart enough to stay away from hard drugs and keep his career afloat (and later become an accomplished music producer) but not know how to choose business partners? Apparently. And talking about his previous life as a punk-star… Can he stop trying to live his life through Luke? It finally dawned on him in the end, yes, but throughout the book Luke (and later Cullen) explicitly told him he didn’t want to be famous, it doesn’t excuse his behaviour!

Soundtrack

Ariadna: While some of the tracks on this book’s OST are not my cup of tea (see Demi and Taylor), I must confess: I’ve been listening to TøP the whole week. Hahn got me at Car Radio *shrugs*. Working in the book industry, I’ve always felt books, when possible, should offer something extra. I really love that this book, even more considering it is addressed to teens and YA, offers this little something to connect it to the readers’ real world, to make the story even more realistic. I think it is a loss that the book itself doesn’t include a QR code or a link to a playlist itself, but it is an easy search away in Spotify, thanks to some nice reader that has already put it up!

Alicia: I just had this one little issue with the music/artists mentioned in the novel: Vada hates Stevie Nicks and consequently I hate Vada. There won't be any hate towards Stevie Nicks in my presence. She is an excellent artist and I will not hear otherwise. Other than that I actually loved how important music in general is in the novel and how many real actual songs are shared along the story. I expected to find mostly alternative/indie bands so there was no surprise there. And music can tell a lot about someone so it was interesting to see the music Luke and Vada listen to, to understand them better. Also it was really nice to get so many songs in so many different styles to actually discover new songs myself. I'm really happy about how music really does play an important part in the book. 

Marina: I’ve mentioned I like it when authors add their little soundtracks to the books but this one goes far beyond that. You get to listen to the songs throughout the characters’ actions and feelings and the music is not only an add-on but it becomes part of the plot. Which, granted, it’s a book about a girl who writes reviews about bands and a boy that writes songs, how can music not be part of the book? But it goes beyond the “here’s a song that inspired this chapter/book/scene” to a basic subplot. Coincidentally, we all looked up different songs on Spotify because we hadn’t heard them before and we found a playlist made by a reader, we hope you enjoy it too!

Vada and Luke’s relationship

Ariadna: It is interesting to read a YA romance novel in which the main action doesn’t revolve 100% around the romance. It is way healthier than most: both Vada and Luke have clear goals and motivations that are not biased by their relationship, they motivate and encourage each other, there is no narcissistic chauvinist - submissive flower dynamics going on —thank the gods–, and they are supercute and honest with themselves. However —I always have one of these–, it is still a naive teen relationship, mostly in terms of the plotting and the writing. Surprisingly —see the irony— they both have had crushes on each other for years, but they haven’t acted upon it until now. They NEVER fail, get mad, do any bad deeds... ANYTHING. Are they even teenagers? Honestly, I hate when the characters in a book are these holier-than-thou perfection vessels. Added to the not-really-that-big-of-a-deal problems (what happened with the instagram issue? What about Vada’s funds for college? They don’t even really get *really* mad because of the Bad Apple thingy...), they feel kind of bland and not too realistic for my tastes. 

Alicia: At the beginning I thought it was a bit rushed, how quickly they trusted each other considering they had barely interacted before. Even if they had a crush on the other that doesn't mean they actually knew that person, not really. As they spent more time together and got to know each other, their relationship evolved pretty organically and naturally, to a point when it just made sense. It was really cute to see how they got closer through awkward encounters and how their passion for music helped them connect and relate to the other. Having read many young adult romances, it gets old very fast. The stories get kinda predictable and hard to believe. This one also had some predictable moments, almost all of them do, but overall it was a really nice love story, one I could actually believe. 

Marina: To be honest, I expected this book to be less about the music and more about the relationship between Luke and Vada. I think what Erin Hahn accomplished in this book is to show a much more mature relationship than I expected. I thought this would be your typical YA-Romance with a lot of drama and kissing, but instead I got a slow-burn story (so slow, it felt like moving through molasses) with depth, insecurities and, yes, drama. I think both these characters are more mature than expected on a YA romance novel and it was surprisingly refreshing. You still get some teenage-y sub-plots, i.e. the prom or even the 15-minutes of fame; but it doesn’t take away from the blossoming relationship between Luke and Vada.

The Grass is Greenly and Behind the Music 

Ariadna: I must be growing too old for this s**t, but I don’t get the whole podcast/blog thing. I get it, social networking does this kind of thing: turning a nobody into an internet sensation in a matter of days, but... I agree with Alicia, it is too much of a coincidence (one of the deus-ex-machina I so much hate) that both the main characters are internet-known... in a blog, nonetheless! Maybe Hahn could have used precisely this internet presence to make Vada and Luke meet each other, instead of the too-worn-out high-school cliché. And Marina has made me think... maybe some interludes as Cullen’s podcasts, letting us know some behind-the-scenes gossip (The Lindsay issue, Luke and Vada’s first kiss becoming viral, and so on...), would have spiced up the novel a bit more.

Alicia: Okay here's the part I just didn't believe and kind of threw me off a bit. What are the chances of a music blog and a podcast, both run by teenagers of the same age in the same city in the same bar, becoming really popular and actually viral. Who even reads blogs anymore anyway? (Says while writing in a blog). It was just quite hard to believe so many people read Behind the Music that even ROLLING STONE became interested. Yeah sure this extremely known successful music magazine wants a fresh out of high school blogger to work for them. And then the podcast. What could two teens have to say to have a podcast so popular that when Cullen uploads Luke's song it literally gets millions of reproductions and attracts attention everywhere. And both of them being run by two people working in the same place, going to the same high school… the world is not actually that small. Sorry it's just kind of extremely unrealistic and didn't particularly like that part. 

Marina: Seeing the “behind-the-scenes” of the day to day of a podcast was very interesting. I guess it would have been better if Cullen told the story as he is the one that does most of the work. Also, how did they get that famous? Is it just because of their dad? I don’t really get it. On the other side, I find it incredibly unbelievable that a teenage girl has that much input on a music blog that isn’t even hers and gets to go to concerts and stuff like that. I get that Phil is a cool guy but how come the blog is so famous and he doesn’t really care about it or mentions it much during the book besides sending Vada places? I just don’t understand that.

Overall

Ariadna: Honestly, I’m not one for YA romance novels, I think I’ve outgrown them by far, and they usually bore me. That said, this book has surprised me for good. It is a light read, doesn’t follow the genre clichés, it doesn’t make everything revolve around the main characters’ love interest, the supporting characters have personalities of their own and it has a wide-ranged well-put playlist, which I think is great for teens and young adults to read. I particularly didn’t like the religious issues coming up from time to time, but, overall, this is the best written book of the three we’ve already read for Folie a Trois, and that’s a lot to say! 

Alicia: Overall it was a really cute book. Initially it took me a while to get into it cause the plot wasn't exactly what I thought it would be, that was a tad disappointing. But then once you begin knowing the characters and they begin to know each other as well it's quite captivating and easy and quick to read. I really enjoyed the love story, I loved how diverse the characters are and how they interacted. I really like how the plot develops, too. If you're looking for a soft, cute, easy enjoyable read I definitely recommend this one. 

Marina: As most YA books that I read, it was entertaining but it didn't change my life. I really did like Vada and Luke's relationship, as I said I find it more mature for this genre; the music was a big highlight and the drama wasn't overwhelmingly dumb (as is the case in some other books). Overall a good book for summer and a light read for any other season ;)

#folie a trois #group reading #group read #goodreads #feel good #music #romance #love #ya #ya book #young adult #ya novel #more than maybe #erin hahn #book #beach read #readers guide to the universe #rg2universe #rg2u

[pastellarts]

To the edge of your sky - Chapter 2: Hope is what we need now

Warning: Scenes of violence, death and grief in this chapter.

A big THANK YOU to all my readers! Words fail me to express how happy I am for all those who have taken the time to read Chapter 1, to follow/like my story and of course to leave a comment.

Special thanks to @bustedflipflop​ for her beta reading. I love you lady!

Chapter 2 has 6 scenes separated by ~oOo~ The author recommends listening to the following music tracks for certain scenes:

For scene #3 (Battle), listen to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=80VIgVJor_4 For scene #4, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eDTRkCcMmE For the last scene https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8kSOWfFrw_0

“Does it trouble you?”

Cassandra’s question caught him off-guard, but it was enough to break the awkward silence. He might have pissed her off last night in the tavern. He didn’t exactly regret it because he had to make it clear he was a free man now, not a Circle mage.

But his attitude could become more temperate. If he were honest with himself, she had treated him better since the battle with the demon at the big rift, fairly even. His gut told him he was dealing with a decent and honorable woman. He couldn’t recall any negative rumors circulating about Cassandra back in Ostwick so she definitely wasn’t one of the infamous Seekers.

“It’s stopped spreading, and it doesn’t hurt. I just wish I knew what it was. Or how I got it.” Alexander replied with honesty. No point in withholding any information about his mark. It was the most valuable weapon to the Inquisition.

“We will find out.” Cassandra’s voice came with a certainty of conviction. “What’s important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You’ve given us time, and Solas believes that a second attempt might succeed – provided the mark has more power. The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by.”

“What harm could there be in powering up something we barely understand?” Alexander dared to retort in a sarcastic tone.

“Hold on to that sense of humor.” Cassandra’s lopsided smirk surprised him even more than her concern.

Well. It seemed the Seeker was quick of wit under all this armor. He could work with that.

They entered the War room where Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine were already waiting. After a brief explanation of the roles and responsibilities, Cassandra went straight to business.

“I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good.” Cassandra said.

“Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help.” Leliana offered.

“And I still disagree. The templars could serve just as well.” Cullen suggested. A shiver ran through Alexander’s veins.

“We need power, Commander.” Cassandra intervened fast. “Enough magic poured into that mark—”

“Might destroy us all. Templars could suppress the breach, weaken it so—” Cullen pressed on. He couldn’t be suggesting…

“Pure speculation.” Leliana cut Cullen off.

“I was a templar. I know what they’re capable of.”

Alexander bit his tongue. He could not let his nervousness show. Didn’t Cullen know he was talking to a rebel mage?!? How could he ever suggest they should appeal to the templars for help?

Remember, cooperate. Calm yourself.

“Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition – and you, specifically.” Josephine managed to ease the tension and pull him back to the meeting.

Cassandra remained silent. Did she also share Cullen’s opinion?

They continued with their planning for the upcoming trip to the Hinterlands to meet Mother Giselle. Scout Harding’s report was grim and left no doubt about how harsh the situation was. It looked like both apostate mages and templars had become far too aggressive, not giving a care about hurting and killing innocent people as a result from the clashes between them.

If Cullen had read this report, and Alexander was certain he had as soon as Leliana had received it, there was no doubt he proposed to seek the templars for assistance.

Alexander left the room, followed by Cullen and Josephine who went straight to their working posts. He looked back at the war room only to see the darkened silhouettes of Cassandra and Leliana engaged in a deep conversation.  Cassandra listened with her head and shoulders hanging downward. Her right hand kept rubbing the lower part of her face as she nodded once, twice to the what Leliana was telling her. Leliana stopped talking and ran a palm along Cassandra’s arm in a comforting way.

The moment ended when the Spymaster noticed him. She got lost in the shadows and Cassandra straightened herself and exited the war room. There was a somber light in her eyes, and her lips were slightly trembling, but she walked towards him with the determination and the unyielding posture he had come to know of her.

He would not ask if she was ok. He didn’t feel entitled to share her troubles and what led to that moment of weakness. He was an agent of the Inquisition because he could close the Breach.

“Herald, please visit Master Harritt to acquire a pair of gloves. Your hands need protection from weather and other threats. I have already spoken to him.” Cassandra said in a professional tone. A pragmatic suggestion from her side.

“I… thank you Lady Pentaghast.”

He spent the rest of the day preparing for the trip to the Hinterlands, choosing supplies and potions, trying on the gloves from Master Harritt, and getting to know more of the people who had also joined the Inquisition. It was a welcome revelation that most of them were determined to overlook their past prejudices and biases against mages but not to ignore the threat of the Breach and contribute towards their common goal.

Before sunset, he exited the gates of the village to the training grounds where Cullen was still running drills to the recruits. He was not yet ready to talk with him, even though the Commander had shown no signs of animosity against him. He should remember that not all templars were bad people, and Cullen had left his order to be part of the Inquisition. Perhaps another time.

A familiar grunt grabbed his attention and he noticed Cassandra whacking at a training dummy with a sword, displaying what looked like the collective force of ten soldiers. Her moves were most impressive; however, he wouldn’t dare a compliment at her current state.

“I think you need practice dummies made of sturdier stuff.” Alexander commented from a safe distance.

“That would be nice.” Cassandra rolled her shoulders and gave another hit.

“Like maybe iron.”

Cassandra walked to the next dummy. “Did I do the right thing? What I have set in motion here could destroy everything I revered my whole life.” She paused her training and her voice cracked with emotion. “One day, they might write about me as a traitor, a madwoman, a fool. And they may be right.”

“What’s going to happen now?” he asked.

“Now we deal with the Chantry’s panic over you before they do even more harm.” The grit was back in her words, accompanied by a good hit on the dummy. “Then we close the Breach. We are the only ones who can.” Another hit. “After that, we find out who is responsible for this chaos, and we end them. And if there are consequences to be paid for what I have done, I pay them. I only pray the price is not too high.”

Cassandra was willing to sacrifice her entire career and lifepath to the Inquisition. She made him feel like his own level of commitment to the cause was lacking passion and honesty. But her steady and resolute guidance was indispensable. Any doubts from her were a luxury the world could not allow.

“You didn’t have any choice.” Alexander attempted to reassure her.

“Didn’t I?” Cassandra hit the dummy with two precise blows, and it smashed in pieces. She dropped her sword to the ground. “My trainers always said, ‘Cassandra you are too brash. You must think before you act.’ I see what must be done and I do it! I see no point in running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. But I misjudged you in the beginning, did I not? I thought the answer was before me, clear as day. I cannot afford to be so careless again.”

Her apology and regret were welcome like a deep breath he had forgotten to take, but his gut guided his response to her. Again. “It wasn’t like you had no reason to suspect me.” Alexander couldn’t but acknowledge the fact.

“I was determined to have someone answer for what happened. Anyone.” She started for the gates but paused. “I’m curious… Do you even believe in the Maker?” she asked.

Her question was simple, yet it felt like he was about to give a loaded confession and he could not lie to her. “I think so. I am not certain about many of my beliefs lately.” Alexander replied.

“I suppose it doesn’t really matter now. I have to believe we were put on this path for a reason, even if you do not. Now it simply remains to be seen where it leads us. See you tomorrow at sunrise at the gates, Herald.”

~oOo~

Two and a half days later Alexander, Cassandra, Solas and Varric reached the Hinterlands by horse relay, making use of the staging posts for Leliana’s scouts. They left their mounts at an Inquisition post with some soldiers to avoid attracting any attention from the conflicting parties and headed for the Outskirts Camp on foot.

“It occurs to me that I don’t actually know much about you.” Cassandra was walking by his side and was once more the one breaking the silence between them. Her bluntness should disconcert him, and yet the simplicity of her ways made him less tense.

“What do you want to know?” Alexander said.

“I’m… not sure. Where are you from?” Cassandra asked.

“I thought you knew that.” He was taken aback by her inquiry.

“I suppose I could ask Leliana. She has collected a frightening amount of information on you. But I don’t want to ask her. I want to hear it from you”, insisted Cassandra, kindly. This was not the ‘take-heads-first-questions-later’ Seeker, this was his companion and bodyguard.

“I was born in Ostwick, and that’s where most of my family is.” Alexander said. No point in hiding personal information that she could access elsewhere.

“The Trevelyans, is it not? A large clan with a rather clever coat-of-arms. Tell me, do you consider the Free Marches your home? Are you eager to go back?”

They spent the rest of their trail talking about their families and the places they grew up. He shared some facts about his Circle that he was certain she was aware of already. Nevertheless, she showed genuine interest. She claimed her own story about becoming the Right Hand of the previous Divine Beatrix ‘isn’t as exciting as some drum it up to be’ but he wanted to hear the longer version from her perspective. Perhaps another time, when they would not be rushing to stop the fighting between mages and templars from getting any worse.

The Inquisition banners of the Outskirts Camp became visible and a dwarven woman, apparently Lead Scout Harding, came to greet them. According to Harding, the situation was dire, with templars, apostates and bandits striking anyone, making it impossible for everyone else to travel any distance with safety. Harding’s clear and urgent tone made Alexander extremely nervous about what they could discover.

As they took the path down to the Crossroads, he cast a protective spell on their party and readied himself for upcoming attacks, wishing for enemies that did not bear any familiar faces.

~oOo~

The apostate mages were desperate. They had hired mercenaries for their protection and had setup ice mines everywhere. Despite his calls and Cassandra's pleading to listen to the Inquisition representatives, they seemed to consider any mage who wasn't openly allied with them as their enemy that should be killed. Their party had just located the apostate stronghold in Witchwood and things had gotten very ugly.

Avoiding stepping on an ice mine just in time, Alexander saw a spellbinder preparing to cast a fire mine upon Cassandra who was fighting against two other mages. He took advantage of the cave setting and cast an energy barrage spell to lower his opponent’s resistance. The projectiles bounced across the cave walls, sweeped across like whisps and hit their target. Seeing the barrier down, Varric fired an explosive arrow and finished the job.

"One down!" yelled Alexander and cast a protective barrier on Cassandra before turning his attention to Solas. Trevelyan was running out of mana and there was no time to catch his breath. Perhaps he should join Cullen's recruits for some morning drills to improve his stamina. The explosion and closing the rift had taken a lot from him.

Physical strength had never been his forte. Spells, potions, knowledge, studies, those he could do well in the Circle of Magi in Ostwick. The Circle was no place for restless mages and his conscientious personality and noble birth allowed him to have a relatively uneventful life there. He had grown into a strong and promising scholar senior Enchanter who could still raise a mean spirit blade if he wanted to. But as soon as the mage rebellion started, he turned into a survivor, a protector of the weak in a time of need. A battlemage for the rightful fight against years of oppression.

Until the Conclave.

"I need some help here!" Solas yelled.

The elven mage's call caught Alexander unprepared. The battle was endless. The barriers by Solas were getting shattered by two very formidable spellbinders. Alexander drowned a lyrium potion and cast a dispel and a barrier on Solas. Sweeping his sweat, he turned to Varric who was aiming for a long shot against a mage hidden behind some bushes. Alexander felt the veil changing in a familiar pattern and focused on the hidden figure. The aura and the robes were... No, it couldn't be...

"Varric, no! Stop!"

Too late. Alexander abandoned the battle and ran towards the injured apostate. The arrow was impaled in her stomach. Blood was spurting everywhere.

Shit.

"Olivia! Olivia! It's me, Alexander!"

Cradling her in his arms, he opened a healing potion. The wound was fatal, there was no way to control the blood loss, but Alexander prayed the potion would give her a bit of pain relief and some time to say goodbye.

She coughed weakly, twice.

"Trevelyan... Word spread only you survived the explosion in Haven. I'm glad..." Olivia regarded him with a sad smile.

"You should have come with us Olivia, you would be safer." Alexander stroked the hair out of her face.

"I got to see the world Alexander, the real world. It's beautiful..."

Olivia coughed some blood spots on his sleeve. Not much longer. Not the time for regrets.

"Were you with Rian?" he asked her.

"Templars in red killed him last month..."

"I am sorry."

Olivia took hold of his hand and focused on him. "I am with child... Love is easy, beautiful, lazy, free... We were free Alec... Finally, free…" 

The fighting sounds had stopped. Cassandra seethed her sword and ran to them. She immediately pulled out a handkerchief from a pouch and applied pressure to the wound. Alexander nodded to her to leave it be. Olivia started shaking. Any time now and the pain would be over.

"Tell me about the child. Where would you raise it?" He smiled down to her.

"If it were a girl, we would name it Leanna, after my late sister. If we had a son, Rolf. We wanted to reach Orlais... Alec, you got some strong magic now... Be that Herald if you must, but live my friend, live... and love... You can do so much good..." Olivia uttered between violent coughs.

Gone was the colour on her face, and blood started to flow from her mouth. Alexander kept stroking her hair.

"I would never be alive without you Olivia. Maker bless your soul, old friend."

He didn't cry when her last breath came out of her body. He eased her eyelids down and stayed for a while like this, holding softly her lifeless bloody torso, praying silently for Olivia, for Rian, for their unborn child.

Cassandra was still there, silent and calm, keeping some kind of vigil. Her demeanor offered him a comfortable sense of safety and support. It felt strange but not unwelcome. 

"I would like to bury her before we leave. Properly." Alexander uttered in a wobbly voice.

Cassandra got up and went to meet the others.

"Of course, Herald. You have my support. I will send for a Chantry sister."

"Thank you, Lady Seeker."

Exhaustion overwhelmed him and for the first time since the explosion that ended the Conclave, Alexander wept.

~oOo~

 Cassandra dismounted her horse and after nodding to Master Harritt, she made a break for Leliana's tent outside the Chantry. She glanced back at the Herald who kept mostly silent since the fight in Witchwood. He had turned out to be a fierce mage in action and left a positive impression on her about his skills during their travels. 

The Left Hand of the Divine was talking with two of her agents but dismissed them as soon as she acknowledged Cassandra.

"Welcome back. I take it your trip was successful, based on the reports I have received."

"We made contact with Mother Giselle who should be arriving later or tomorrow and refugees should be safer now. The Herald's actions have been rather effective so far." Cassandra affirmed.

"But?"

Leliana grabbed a paper parchment and a small pouch from a table and motioned towards the Chantry. This was a conversation that had to be done in private. 

"Nothing bad. On the contrary, I am quite pleased so far. We have allied with 3 agents, the fighting between templars and mages is much less and the refugees are no longer in danger, Master Dennet will probably agree to provide us with horses as soon as we build some watchtowers and there is promise for further support." 

But he was close friends with a blood mage. 

They entered the war room and Leliana shut the door behind her. 

"Spill it Cassandra, I don't have all day."

"One of the apostates we fought was a friend of his from the Circle. The Herald called her Olivia and mentioned she had saved his life. Varric shot her and Lord Trevelyan only managed to give her some comfort before she died. I sensed a blood magic spell on the making before she got shot."

"My agents have mentioned nothing of blood magic practices for Trevelyan." Leliana frowned.

"I also don't believe he is one. He didn't even yell at Varric. He said he never believed in this war and Varric couldn't have known."

"Sensible and matter-of-fact. Good." The Spymaster smirked with satisfaction. “Has he mentioned if he belonged to any of the fraternities?”

“He did mention the Aequitarians but he could be a Libertarians sympathizer as well.” Cassandra knit her brows.

“Pure speculation at this point. It will come up sooner or later, especially if he decides to meet with the rebel mages in Redcliffe.” Leliana remarked.

"He brought back with him some of her possessions. He claims them to be notes and books on magic and astronomy. Could you—"

"Of course."

Cassandra breathed a relieved sigh and nodded. How she had wished for Leliana's presence in this trip. Her insight and ability to see though everything and everyone was uncanny and the Seeker needed the reassurance of her old time companion and friend. She turned for the doors.

"Cassandra. A moment."

Leliana's hesitation was very brief but enough for Cassandra to guard herself against the news she was about to hear. The Spymaster left the pouch on the table and unfolded the parchment.

"While you were away, we have managed to identify some more victims of the explosion. I have their names here if you want to take a look."

Cassandra reached for the list. Leliana never took her eyes off her.

"Still no sign of Justinia's body or what is..." Leliana trailed off.

The Seeker felt her legs give away and leaned on the table. Her hands trembled. One drop and then another fell from her eyes and stained the parchment. She pushed it away. Leliana remained by her side.

"We recognised him from the seal and the blade he carried with him. It was as you had described it to me." 

Cassandra let a sob and broke down. She had no idea how long Leliana comforted her but she was grateful for doing this away from everyone. They could not see her as weak, helpless, lost, alone. She was Lady Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast, the founder of the Inquisition. There was no time for mourning. There was nobody left to mourn. Every person she had loved was dead.

"I will leave first and keep away anyone that might give you trouble. You‘ve had no time to mourn for Regalyan and Justinia. You have now. Take as much as you want, my friend." The doors closed with a soft click when Leliana left.

Cassandra opened the pouch and took the blade in her hands. It was her last gift to Regalyan, to protect him against any danger whenever they parted ways. It was part of every single staff he had owned since that day. 

But the blade had not saved her former lover from the explosion. Nothing could have saved him from it. 

The Divine, Galyan, her brother, her Order, her purpose. All gone.

For the first time since the Conclave, Cassandra let her tears and her loneliness beat her.

~oOo~

"What about the supply caches?" Alexander pointed at the map where the Crossroads were located.

"We received news yesterday that they were distributed immediately. Again, thank you, Herald for looking into this matter", Cullen nodded at Alexander.

"It was just the right thing to do and I wasn't alone. But before we go," he exhaled heavily and paused before addressing Leliana. "Did you have any luck locating the bodies of my fellow Enchanters?"

Cassandra turned to look at Trevelyan. All these weeks she had been so focused on the Inquisition matters and her own grief that she had forgotten to ask him if he had lost someone close to him in the explosion. He had not been there as a spy or out of curiosity, he had been a member of the delegation from the Circle of Magi of Ostwick. They were working together with a man who had lost people who mattered to him and yet he had not hesitated to cooperate with their cause and do the right thing even if they had treated him as a mass murderer at first. He wanted to be a free mage, but he also wanted the war to end and the Breach to close.

“We have recovered two bodies that bore the seal from the Circle of Ostwick. Sister Jeanette can tell you where they are.” Leliana informed him.

“Lord Trevelyan.” Cassandra ventured to interject. “Some clerics will perform a burial for many of the victims. It can include your friends. Of course, if you wish for a specific ritual, it can be arranged.”

The Herald gripped on the desk with both his hands and let his head hang low for a moment. He then pushed himself off and focused on her. His gaze exposed a conflict of emotions, vulnerable and determined.

“I appreciate that, Lady Seeker. Thank you, thank you all.” Alexander cleared his throat and when he spoke again, his voice was no longer brittle. “I will go see researcher Minaeve.”

The door closed behind Cassandra’s back and Josephine began to speak.

“We have received some letters from the Trevelyan clan about—“

“It is a matter concerning the Herald’s family and it is only fair he should be present as well.” Cassandra interrupted her. She- They had to show him respect.

“I suppose you are right, Lady Cassandra.” Josephine acknowledged her and checked her tablet. “One last thing before we leave. Marquis DuRellion…”

~oOo~

Cassandra held the urn with Regalyan’s ashes as she looked for a place to bury them. Long after his pyre had died out, she simply stood staring at it for a while, tears coursing down her cheeks. She thought of scattering them, but then she recalled how the terrible smell after the explosion in the Temple had burned her nose. She should write to his friends in the White Spire—

If there was anyone left alive. Or had they joined the rebel mages in Redcliffe..? Perhaps they had become apostates. She didn’t know.

‘Cassandra, you are the bravest person I've ever met. And the most beautiful. ’ (*)

Many had called her brave, but nobody had called her the most beautiful person ever again. At least not like him. The young love they had shared for years never ceased to warm her heart and the remembrance of their relationship gave her courage in dark times. They had eventually drifted apart and remained distant friends since Justinia’s appointment as the Divine. Had he survived, she doubted they would ever become lovers again. Nevertheless, when she had learned he would attend the Conclave, she had looked forward to meeting him. It was the best news she had heard for a long time, an opportunity to catch up with each other, listen to his vivid laughter, shove his arm at his insatiable need to flatter her any time anywhere, make fun of the wrinkles around his bright green eyes, hug him...

His loss would ache for the rest of her life.

She spotted a tree that reminded her of the adventure that brought them together, placed the urn on the ground and started to dig with her sword and her hands. Each jab was loaded with anguish and the urge to revenge for his death, for all those deaths. She was so lost in her mourning she never heard Trevelyan approach.

“Need any help?”

She gasped and almost lost her balance. Alexander raised both hands slightly up and made an apologetic grimace.

“I am sorry if I scared you. I was just passing by.”

“It’s alright.” Cassandra gave an indifferent nod with her head and continued with her digging. She was soon joined by the Herald who used a small shovel to help her finish her task.

“Where did you find the shovel?” she asked him.

“Master Harritt gave it to me when I asked if he had any. Apparently, he made a few due to the circumstances.” Alexander replied and stood aside when the hole was large enough.

Cassandra took the urn and placed it in the ground. Trevelyan’s presence had distracted her from her sorrowful thoughts, and she finished covering the urn with soil without shedding any more tears. Not in front of him.

To his credit, the Herald had stepped aside to give her the privacy the moment needed. She used a blade to carve Regalyan’s initials on the tree, taking a silent oath to make a proper grave for him as soon as she found the time. When she finished, she placed her palm on the trunk of the tree and whispered her parting words and a quick prayer. And just like that, it was done.

She met the Herald and they started walking back to the village.

“Have they found the Divine’s body?” It was Alexander who broke the silence this time.

“No and I don’t think we will find anything. If your memories from the rift were right, she was at the center of the explosion.” Cassandra replied.

“Have you lost many people at the Conclave?” She appreciated his tactful inquiry; she could not handle talking about Galyan now. And Trevelyan wasn’t her friend to share more.

“People who I knew from the Chantry, as well as templars and some Enchanters.” Cassandra gave a vague response. “And you, Herald?”

He looked at the shovel and sighed. “Derrin and Amethyne, both Senior Enchanters, both good mages. I was friends with Derrin, not so much with Amethyne.” Alexander paused and his face broke into repressed laughter. “The irony is that those two hated each other’s guts so much, they couldn’t stand being in the same room for more than what was necessary. And now they lie next to each other in ashes inside their urns in the ground, forced to coexist in peace, both in the Maker’s side.”

His words brought a small smile to her face and she began to snicker. “I am sorry, I should not be laughing, it is not the right time or place.” Cassandra attempted to restrain herself.

Alexander wore a wide grin and amusement danced on his eyes as he watched her fighting her own smile. “I am sure our friends would laugh with us too, if they were here.”

Galyan would. And he would coax her to relish the moment, in his unique dashing way.

Cassandra followed Alexander in the tavern, hoping to wash away the sorrow of the day with some rye. When Flissa came to take their orders, Cassandra asked her to leave the bottle.

“Was Olivia a good friend of yours?” Cassandra let out the question that had been troubling her the past days. The mist that covered his eyes could have been from the large gulp of rye, but she suspected that was not the case.

“She was like a sister to me in the Circle. She saved my life when I got there. There was— I would never pass my Harrowing without her. I owe her my life, literally. The war broke us apart, I remained with the rebellion and she and Rian joined the apostates, eager to fight in the Mage-Templar war.” The Herald kept his gaze fixed on his drink and didn’t look up. It was noticeably difficult for him to speak about her so the issue of blood magic would have to wait. She would get her answers some other time.

“What about the rest of the Enchanters from your Circle?” Cassandra changed the subject. What roused him in lowering his guard only appealed to her curiosity. She did not want to let his mood for sharing go to waste.

“All Senior Enchanters are dead. Two of them were killed when the rebellion started, along with First Enchanter Lydia. The other three you already know. I assume some mages have joined the other rebels in Redcliffe.” Alexander professed with a grim expression.

“I wish the Seekers and the Chantry had done more for the mages.” Cassandra admitted.

“What will happen to the Chantry now?” Alexander asked her.

“It is difficult to say. They have no templars, no leadership, and no one left who is worthy of succeeding the Divine.” Cassandra finished her glass with one gulp and served herself a refill. “It has fallen apart when everyone needs it the most. I ache to think what this will mean in the days to come.”

“I’m surprised you rebelled against the Chantry.” Alexander was now leaning on his left arm, his eyebrows pulled slightly together.

“I left my own Order when they took the wrong path. It is no different. But in neither case did I stop caring. Indeed, I care so much that I feel drastic action is necessary. I suppose history shall one day judge my actions.” Cassandra hoped she didn’t sound like a zealot.

“Would you serve a new Divine?”

“That depends on whether she would have me. I’m a rebel now, remember? And even if she would, I… do not know.” Cassandra stared at the rye as she swirled it in the cup. She started to contemplate her life so far. Would she remain the Right Hand to a new Divine? Would she return to the Seekers? For all she knew, it could be time for a new direction in her life.

“I first met Divine Justinia two years ago when I was presented to her as a newly appointed Senior Enchanter in a ceremony in the Grand Cathedral. She left a positive impression to me, aside from her speech. It was a bit boring.” Alexander interrupted her musings and she took a peek at him. He was still leaning on his arm, looking to his left as if reminiscing.

“She was never a big fan of speeches.” Cassandra assented with a half chuckle. “I think I was absent from that ceremony…”

“You weren’t there.” Trevelyan said quickly and leaned towards her. “If you were, I would definitely remember you.”

Cassandra stared at him with mouth slightly open. Did he just..?

“You flatter me.”

“I’m trying.” Trevelyan shrugged with a pleased expression and leaned back on his chair.

Cassandra let a disgusted noise and took a large sip. He had done it again, set her off-course and let her trip on incredulous notions that she had absolutely no need of right now.

“Lady Pentaghast.” The Herald dispersed her confusing thoughts, his voice fearless and crisp, his gaze clear and hopeful like a fresh breeze. He straightened his pose and raised his glass. “A toast to all the rebels who never stopped caring and will always care to do the right thing, who defy chaos and hope to make the future a possibility.”

She should be more wary of that silver tongue of his. Yet, at that moment, she couldn’t help it. Cassandra’s face lit up with a small smile that he returned in full. “To allies that join causes with honorable goals.” She raised her own glass and they both savored their drinks without breaking eye contact.

He was not her friend, no. But he was earning her respect with each passing day and she dared to have faith that he would be a kindred spirit in the struggle against these troubled times.

His fetching smile made it also not so terrible.

_________

Note: I always wondered what happened to other people that were along with the Inquisitor in the Conclave, no matter the race. There was no cut scene or mention of any loss, so I decided to give Alexander some backstory with friends from his Circle that died in the explosion or in the Mage – Templar War.

(*) It bugged me that they didn’t mention anything about Regalyan’s death and how it affected Cassandra. It was not only Justinia that she lost. If you don’t know who Regalyan is, “Dawn of the Seeker” is an anime movie and I love the penultimate scene where Regalyan and Cassandra look at each other with those dreamy eyes of young love. This quote is from that scene.

#da:i #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #dai #cassandra x inquisitor #Cassandra Pentaghast #Alexander Trevelyan #cassandra x m!trevelyan #cassandra x male inquisitor #leliana #josephine montilyet #cullen rutherford #my writing #dai fanfic #dai fanfiction #inquisitor trevelyan #writing dragon age

[pingupengq]

Soft careers!Ateez

A compiled list from an attempted conversation on @mingless's blog. Some of these careers are fleshed out and some aren't, but that's just because I was having a hard time thinking

Hongjoong

Bookstore owner

So imagine him in slightly too-large sweaters (sweater paws!!!), restocking books and talking with customers. He has book recommendations for every genre of book out there. With his spare time, he sits at his desk/the register and doodles on rectangular pieces of cardstock to make bookmarks. He sells them for 50¢ each, and sometimes even slides one in the cover of a newly-sold book for free as he hands it to the customer

Musician/producer

Fashion designer

Makes super cool clothes, and will sometimes even do customized or tailored clothes. Will rant about fabric types, patterns and colors that work together and ones that most definitely don't to everyone and anyone that'll listen

Artist

The care with which he draws or paints the subject he chooses is unreal. Intense focus, but a little laugh and big grin when he gets something to look like how he wants!

Seonghwa

Hairdresser/hairstylist

His hands running through your hair: a concept. When cutting hair, his tongue sticks out just a little from his lips (blep). He loves making conversation with his customers, and does his best to remember little details about each so he can ask them questions next time they're in

Day care worker

Children's pediatrician

So... Him in a doctor's coat, taking care of children? Oof my heart, he'd be so so cute with them, teasing them and trying to get them to feel safe and comfortable... but also making sure they know what he's doing, and making sure they understand what the results he got from whatever tests mean and taking their health really seriously

Yunho

Flower shop owner

VERY VERY attentive to his flowers! Doesn't tend to organize the plants in any particular order, so his shop looks like a colorfully messy Matisse painting at all times. Always has a flower behind his ear or a flower crown on his head! He always has a little bucket of free, fresh-cut flowers near the register so kids can take a flower home with them

Glass blower

Loves to make little ornaments to put in a window so they catch the sunlight. Partially his job and fully his passion, he ALSO really loves to make blown glass gifts for his friends, like little animal figurines, colorful and uniquely shaped bottles, vases and bowls, or simply just random decorations for them to display. His store is always fully of richly pigmented, beautiful and loving crafted glasswork

Yeosang

Violinist

Travel photographer

Basically ALWAYS wearing a camera around his neck! Wanders around whatever city he happens to be in with the biggest smile on his face, taking pictures of the architecture, the people, the food, the scenery. He always feels so lucky to have the opportunity to travel the world, and never takes it for granted. It's tiring traveling so much, but he wouldn't trade his intimate meetings with all the places he's gone and will go to for ANYTHING

Art historian/critic

Call me biased because art history is my major (and he may or may not be one of my Ateez biases cough), but I think it would be super cute to see him get all excited and talk about different pieces of art. Imagine seeing him talk excitedly about an artist over their lifetime, waving his hands for emphasis as he talks about their changes in style and meanings and iconography over time- wow I'm so soft for this idea

San

Barista

Day care worker

He loves babies, so just imagine him getting to take care of them... big cutie will be playing with them and talking with them, carrying them and cooing over them and just generally loving on them to the best of his ability

Professional dog walker

Likes to talk to the dogs as he walks them, things like "what do you smell? Something good?" or "how're you doing (dog's name)?" or "c'mon guys, you can't sniff around there forever" or "we're going to cross the road now, so be careful, ok?"

Mingi

Day care worker

Build A Bear Workshop employee

Tall, mildly intimidating man, but is basically a child along with all the other actual children in the store, even though he's like twice as tall as them. Crouches/kneels down when helping the kids do all the magic with the hearts, and MOST DEFINITELY helps kids pick out an outfit for their new friends!

Wooyoung

Bakery owner

Always moving to some sort of beat, whether it be full-blown dancing behind the counter as he waits for what's in the oven to be done or for customers, or little wiggles as he decorates his baked goods. Flirty, of course: "your order, miss?" "what's the sweetest thing you have here?" "you're looking at it, cutie" (credit to @die8de for that)

Candle maker

His shop always smells really really nice due to the mixed fragrances of all the candles he's made. He loves making all sorts of really nice scent combinations, and one of his great pleasures in his job is making customized scented candles for people

Jongho

Flower shop owner

Orchard employee

This orchard does a lot of pick-your-own-produce type stuff, and Jongho likes being able to help people out with their loads of fruit afterwards. Goes out and picks up fruit that's fallen off the trees and if it's good, he takes it to make juice, cobblers, jams and fruit leather (among other things)! Likes to offer tasters to customers, and he doesn't even mind if they don't buy any of it because seeing them happy is good enough for him

Edit: Some careers I forgot, and don't know exactly who would best suit them:

Tea shop owner

Cartoonist

Basket maker

Music shop owner

Museum curator

Astronomer

Cartographer

This may be an ongoing list, jussaying

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez soft careers #pingu writes

[noirenigma]

Music is as much magic as this world deserves. That was one of the more edgy post in my journal, but I do think that its true. I don’t have words for what I’m feeling right now, but I do have the inclination to attempt to find them. 

The closest I’ve been able to draw up is that “I’m not big enough for this moment.” I don’t have enough love to love my people through it. I don’t have enough joy to find the ways to get them to smile through the difficulty. I don’t have enough faith to think it’s even worth trying.

This year has taken so much from all of us and it now threatens to take hope, thinking logically about it all what evidence is there that things will get better? This year has taken, and taken and taken and it threatens to take even more still. 

Real life rears its head and comes to remind me that for all the likes and all the retweets and all the followers and all the things you hope to achieve in your quest to make your passion your career - none of it really fucking matters.

What matters are those nights outside the Uptown when the bar has long closed but you and your people still have so much more music in you than the bar can hold and so you stay out till 4 am singing...poorly.

The arguments about Justice League being trash...

Real life comes and puts a gun at those moments.

So you retreat back into your digital life and there we find a home divided. A place where it is more common to talk about each other rather than to each other, or at least that’s how it feels. 

This is not new, I’ve spoken about this before - some folx still feel a way about me for it. I don’t think they’re wrong I think we just don’t know each other well enough to be able to judge each other without a conversation. 

There are those in this space that to me it feels as though they carry vitriol with pride, that are eager to destroy in the name of their crusade against all that is toxic in the community. Again I don’t think they’re wrong I think we just don’t know each other well enough to be able to judge each other without a conversation.

That is a conversation I dread however as I never believed in fighting fire with fire, to me it just leads to more stuff getting burned down. 

I’ve never had a taste for call outs and mob mentality though I understand the good it can do, its just never been a thing I want to take part in. 

I simply can’t believe in a one size fits all solution that can be applied across the board. 

I could be wrong, I hope I am.

I won’t lie and say that I’m not on some level upset, I am, I saw my friends have their breakdown mocked. 

My opinion on this is biased I know, but still. and call me naive if you wish, but I do not see how anyone can consider mocking a mental health issue regardless of whether they believe it or not as a good thing. 

If that is now what is considered virtuous than now more than ever I’m sure that I don’t belong here. 

My mind is racing, everything is awful - but in the way that it sounds this time and not the way I waxed on about previously haha. 

But this is where I’m going to force myself to try and find the hope cause that’s what its for right. To find in moments where you want to do anything but, so here’s the hope:  

I feel more than I think and this is why I speak in quotes, because I don’t trust myself to find the right words. This song has the right words - 

“You know, it's nothing new Bad news never had good timing Then, circle of your friends Will defend the silver lining”

I’m lost in this moment. I’m sad, I’m panicked, and I’m angry. I can’t find the silver lining - but the moment I showed signs of sinking, in this dark apartment my phone buzzed and didn’t stop for minutes. The light from the screen piercing the blackness I was trying to wallow in, and that light was my friends. Each one extending a hand,  letting me know its alright to be human for a minute.

 The circle of my friends defending the silver lining. Cheesy I know but it turned bitter tears sweet, and you can’t ask for more than that. 

I’ll find the jokes, and the quips in the morning. Right now I just need to be human. 

[sugakookielix]

hii, can i have a life with bts ship pls? 🥰

i sent a ship request in the past & you shipped me with yoongi!!

here’s my info again with some more details:

my name is jasmine (she/her)! my friends usually describe me as sarcastic & funny but also really friendly & empathetic at the same time. I’m the person everyone goes to when they need help, advice, or just someone to talk to! but im very closed off when it comes to my own emotions so I tend to get overwhelmed sometimes when I constantly put others first and ignore my own struggles. I also have anxiety & depression so it’s hard for me to express how I feel in general.

I really love music, poetry, & art! I love being creative because it helps me express my emotions (even if i procrastinate so much before actually doing it lol) I used to write songs and be a singer in a band! now I just sing in the shower & car lol

As for my appearance, I’m a little on the thicc side & pretty tall (5'10) so I’m very self conscious and insecure about my body. I also struggle with body dysmorphia so that adds to my insecurities :(( but my style varies depending on my mood! I usually go for a t-shirt & jeans since i like being comfortable but will occasionally wear a skirt and be “cute”. I’ll include some selfies so you can see what I look like!! ((:

my bias is yoongi (even tho im taller lol) i just really look up to him & his passion for creating music. he’s also super funny & goofy sometimes and i love him 🥺

A few of the things I enjoy include: reading, writing, drinking coffee, watching horror movies, painting, & napping! I don’t dislike a lot of things but I absolutely HATE racist, homophobic, transphobic, sexist, and rude people.

Tbh I haven’t really thought about what kind of dress I’d wear at my wedding lol but uhm something simple & off the shoulder. I’d love to have kids in the future! Having twins is common in my family so that’ll be fun LMAO tbh I’d just want a simple life. nothing too big or flashy. I’m not materialistic at all. I just want to be happy (’:

sorry if this was soooo long !! tysm! also don’t listen to the hate you receive!! your writing and ships are so good! and you aren’t biased at all! it’s your opinion on which member fits that person! if people don’t agree with it, then they don’t have to interact with your blog! anyway i hope you’re staying safe and healthy! please remember to eat & stay hydrated! <3

here some selfies if it helps visualize lol

______________________________________________________

Selfies were hidden upon request! 

AN: since this is the second request I added onto some of the information I wrote for the original (and may have gone a bit overboard XD) Hope you like it!

gifs/images are not mine!

Who I ship you with:

You two are very similar to each other and yet have enough differences that you can learn about each other. You would also serve as each other’s support system when needed, he would want you to know that he is always someone you could come to if you are feeling down about something. Yoongi trusts you with his feelings and will always go to you when he needs support or just someone to make him smile. In return, he will also be your support and do the same. He may even act silly and embarrass himself just to make you laugh He wouldn’t necessarily like that you are self conscious about yourself because he thinks you are beautiful. He would constantly remind you of how perfect you are for him whenever you are down or feeling self conscious. He also kind of likes the fact that you are taller than him because it makes it easier for him to cuddle up to you. Cuddle dates would also be quite popular for the both of you since Yoongi prefers to show his love through actions instead of words. At the same time he really appreciates that you support his passion for music and would do his best to involve you with his work when he can. He would also want to be involved in the things that you do, whether it be work or just something you picked up as a hobby. Even though he is extremely busy, he would want to be as involved with you and your life as possible. Yoongi isn’t the best when showing his emotions, but he would do his best to show you just how much he cares for you with little actions since he knows those mean more than words. Common dates with the two of you include late nights in his studio, watching movies together, or cuddling up on his couch and napping together. He wouldn’t want it any other way. 

His favorite things about you: Your height, your personality, your appearance, your support for him, your love for music, your caring side, the fact you’re someone he can open up to

Your first date: Something intimate and cute, he would invite you over for dinner where the two of you could just talk and spend time together. He would end up rambling about his music and get embarrassed but you would find it to be rather cute. He would already be planning your next date before you even properly said goodbye

How long you are together: Yoongi wouldn’t want to consider marriage until he knew he was stable in his career. You both also wanted to make sure that you were serious about each other and genuinely saw a future together. You would be dating for at least 5 years before you get engaged. 

The proposal: It would likely be more of a spur of the moment thing rather than Yoongi planning it out. He knew he wanted to marry you and would already have everything ready but would want to wait until the timing felt right. It would finally happen one night while the two of you are relaxing in his studio and talking about the future. He would look down at you in awe and subconsciously mutter “Marry me.” You would be in shock at first and ask if he was serious, but once he finally pulled out the ring he had gotten you and asked you again with more confidence you would know that he was. 

Your wedding: It would be a more intimate ceremony since neither of you were really fond of something over the top or flashy. It would be a private venue with only your closest friends and family there, and of course all of the members would be part of the wedding as well. Yoongi wouldn’t have too much of a preference when it came to planning so you made a lot of the final calls which he ended up agreeing with anyways. You two didn’t rush things so planning the wedding was very calm and relatively easy for the both of you. The ceremony itself would be beautiful despite not being that large. You were tying the knot with the love of your life surrounded by the people closest to you. Yoongi would try to keep a straight face the entire time but you could see the emotion in his eyes as the ceremony continued. During the reception, he would get everyone’s attention so he could play a song that he dedicated to you and the occasion, sharing all of his feelings for you and how happy he was to call you his wife. 

Your wedding dress: 

Children: Same with marriage, Yoongi would want to wait to make sure his career was stable enough before he thought about having children. He didn’t want to leave you alone with a baby and also wanted to be there to witness all the milestones. Since you two had waited a bit to get married, you would wait at least a year or two before having children. You ended up with two twin boys, one who took after his father, and one whos features closely resembled you. 

Ship requests are currently OPEN! Please check here before requesting a ship and please specify which type you want. 

#bts #bts scenarios #bts x reader #kpop #kpop ships #kpop fluff #bts ships #ship #min yoongi #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fluff #yoongi ship #suga #suga x reader #suga fluff #submission #bts suga #bts fluff #request #x reader #y/n #suga ship #suga x y/n #yoongi x y/n #requested

[littleduck46]

This wonderful, inventive ask game designed and tagged by @futurepirateking4271 (To whom I am growing extremely fond of). 

Get to Know Your Followers Friends

Rules: Complete the open-ended questions/phrases, then bold the phrase that better describes you/your preferences in the list below! Tag whoever and however many people you’d like!

Name: Lilli 

Favorite Card Game(s): I love playing cards because I often win against my family. I am good at risk assessment and planning ahead. So Euchre and Rummy. I also enjoy Trash while waiting for something like a plane or a show to start. 

Favorite Ice Cream Flavor: I’d say probably mint chocolate chip or strawberry or anything with caramel. Although I have cut soda out of my diet mostly for years now, I cannot quit ice cream for more than a month. 

Favorite Season: The time between Summer and fall and winter and spring. I love to watch the world shift around me. It’s like a reassuring pat on the back that change is both inevitable and sometimes cleansing/growing. 

Favorite Holiday: Halloween or Christmas (for the opposite reason people might think.) Halloween because I enjoy the decorations and watching people grow passionate about their costumes. Christmas because I enjoy gift-giving and eating cinnamon rolls. 

Favorite Fruit: Apples for availability, watermelon or strawberries for taste. I do love a homemade apple pie or apple crisp so I may be biased. 

Last Dream You Remember: The last dream I remember suitable for sharing I was walking somewhere in the rain, ran into an old friend and a not so old one. I realized I only cherished one because they reminded me of the other. We smiled, we hugged, and I will always cherish the dreams they pass through. It’s the only way I imagine looking into those eyes again. 

Song of Choice at the Moment: Do You Want To Know A Secret by the Beatles or Talk To Me by Sunny and the Sunglows. 

Favorite Book(s)/Series: Favorite book is the Westing Game, favorite book series is embarrassingly the Vladimir Todd series. I haven’t read them in years but I liked them enough to hunt down almost the entire set. 

Favorite Show(s): Psych, Supernatural, House M.D., Criminal Minds (Season 3-10), Parks and Recreation, Star Trek (Original) 

Favorite Movie(s): Lord of the Rings(all but Two Tours to be specific), Mr. Right, Guardians of the Galaxy (Sorry but I actually enjoy marvel movies...forgive me), Four Brothers, and definitely Sound Of Music. 

Your Mario Character: Usually Waluigi; I have no excuse. 

・・・

Early Bird // Night Owl 

[Chocolate] White // Milk // Dark // None

Horror // Romance (+ RomCom) // Action // Other

Waffles // Pancakes

Cursive + Script // Print

McDonald’s // Wendy’s // Burger King // I’m healthy

iPhone // Android

Tea // Coffee // Neither

Urban // Suburbs // Rural

・・・

Are you an only child? No. 

Are you allergic to anything? Somehow, no. 

Are you an artist? (all forms of art): Technically I create, but I do not like an artist’s life. I paint, I write, and I sometimes enjoy crafts or poetry, but I’m no artists. 

What’s your love language? Giving: Gift-giving, acts of service,  Receiving: Words of affirmation, physical contact, sometimes acts of service. 

What does your url mean? Sadly, it is a nickname of someone I knew and the number isn’t something I wish to discuss. Basically, I wanted my blog title to signify where I was when I started, so I could always remember how far I’ve come. It is rather effective still today. 

What inspires you? I am inspired by others. I am inspired by music as well. Whatever sparks an ache in my chest or an image in my mind. I am inspired by wanting to heal others or wanting to celebrate them and by wanting to capture my mind on something you can look back on later. My inspiration is very sentimental as, I suppose, am I. 

What are your aspirations? I wish to be fluent in Spanish, or at least never lose what I have now, and to help others in my career. Rather research-based or hands-on, I want to work with and for the human mind. 

What are your plans for after quarantine? Remind my friend that I love them through my love language. Get a job again. Start my next chapter in life. 

As always, just because I do not tag you does not mean I am not fully interested in reading your answers, so if this looks like something you genuinely want to do, tag me and do it anyways!!! That being said, @fingergunsbidean  @flannel-wearing-warrior@deanscastiel79 @rocknrolldamnation73 @chewmintgum @superwholliganjen ect. 

Blank Template:

Get to Know Your Followers Friends

Rules: Complete the open-ended questions/phrases, then bold the phrase that better describes you/your preferences in the list below! Tag whoever and however many people you’d like!

Name:

Favorite Card Game(s):

Favorite Ice Cream Flavor:

Favorite Season:

Favorite Holiday:

Favorite Fruit:

Last Dream You Remember:

Song of Choice at the Moment:

Favorite Book(s)/Series:

Favorite Show(s):

Favorite Movie(s):

Your Mario Character:

・・・

Early Bird // Night Owl

[Chocolate] White // Milk // Dark // None

Horror // Romance (+ RomCom) // Action // Other

Waffles // Pancakes

Cursive + Script // Print

McDonald’s // Wendy’s // Burger King // I’m healthy

iPhone // Android

Tea // Coffee // Neither

Urban // Suburbs // Rural

・・・

Are you an only child?

Are you allergic to anything?

Are you an artist? (all forms of art)

What’s your love language?

What does your url mean?

What inspires you?

What are your aspirations?

What are your plans for after quarantine?

#As always #Feel free to ask my clarifying questions #Some of the bolding ones I was unsure how to answer as I tend to look at too many aspects of things to choose between them #thank you for tagging me #tag game #ask game