#symphony for a broken orchestra

[blackhairedjjun]

flowers of every color | 4. pink roses

overall summary: when your father is assigned as the new head gardener to the royal family, you are also tasked with helping him maintain the castle's many gardens and extensive floral arrangements. by chance you find yourself crossing paths with the "ice-cold" crown prince, choi yeonjun... who turns out to be not as ice-cold as everyone says he is.

chapter summary: the welcome ball is in full swing, but all you can do is stay outside and be on standby -- that is, until yeonjun decides to bring the ball to you.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: alcohol mentions

author’s note: it's time for a pure fluff chapter!! this one was fun to write 💖 chapters 3 and 4 were supposed to be one chapter, but there was just so much going on that i felt like i should split it into two (i generally prefer shorter chapters).

also, recommended music for this: gregory alan isakov & the colorado symphony orchestra - amsterdam

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night falls on the castle grounds and the ball is in full swing. even from outside, you can tell that the festivities have reached their heights just from the sounds: the clinking of glasses and plates, the raucous laughter from the lords and ladies, and the string quartet playing lively waltzes seemingly non-stop.

just moments ago you entered the ballroom yourself, not to celebrate but to replace a flower vase in the hallway that a drunken guest knocked over. as soon as you entered, your senses were bombarded; you remember seeing a parade of men in trimmed suits and women in rustling ballgowns, servants carrying trays full of wines and cocktails, and even someone’s dog jumping onto a couch to sniff a pastry that another guest was eating. everywhere you went was noisy, whether from chatter or music or the scraping of dinnerware. it was too much all at once, and you felt relieved when you spotted the broken flower vase and then made your exit soon after.

now that you are out of the ruckus, you make your refuge for the night in one of the gazebos in the front gardens.  you aren’t too far from the ballroom window, and you prefer to enjoy the ball this way. from the outside, you can observe the festivities and imagine yourself in them, but avoid all the messy sensations that come with them.

you wonder if yeonjun, soobin, and beomgyu are enjoying themselves, or if they too have become overwhelmed by the constant activity of the ball. then again, you muse, they are princes. meeting all sorts of people from far and wide is a duty that comes with their title, and perhaps at this point they have simply gotten used to it.

still, it would be nice if you could enjoy the ball with them…

the quartet starts to play a jaunty arrangement of an old folk song from your hometown, interrupting your train of thought. memories flood you as you hear the opening melody and your mind is transported back to the small market square where your father would bring you as a child. you remember your tiny hands pushing the cart containing all sorts of flowers and herbs that you would sell (your father did most of the actual pushing), and in your mind’s eye you see the merchants’ displays of everything from cured meats to leather gloves to silver jewelry. the merchants sing a song to pass the time, filling the market with a joyous rhythm, and your father too joins the chorus. once you’ve accompanied him to the market square enough times, your voice also chimes in, and even now you sing every word by heart as if you were with the merchants again.

you don’t notice yeonjun’s voice singing along with you until the last verse.

“i knew i’d find you from that pretty voice of yours.”

you turn in the direction of his voice, but any reply you had in mind evaporates at the sight of him. yeonjun is standing at the gazebo entrance and your jaw goes slack from just how beautiful he looks. the dark emerald green jacket he wears hangs well on his shoulders, and the gold embroidered details on the front shine in the moonlight. his hair has been slicked back, with a few strands left in front of his forehead, framing his face. even in the evening dimness you can make out his features: his shining eyes, his plush lips.

“you look…” stunning. wonderful. beautiful. “…good.”

it’s not the compliment you wanted to give, but yeonjun gets the message anyway. he lets out an awkward laugh and he turns his head away, covering his mouth with one hand. when he recovers, he turns to you with a small smirk. “and you look amazing too.”

you look down at your uniform, the same one that every servant in the castle is wearing, and frown. “sure, i do.”

“no, i mean it,” he says, stepping fully inside the gazebo to stand in front of you. “when i saw you here singing to yourself, smiling and thinking of something happy, i thought it was a beautiful thing to see.”

“come on, don’t say things like that! that’s so…” your face and ears grow warm, and you aren’t sure how to deal with the sensation.

“why not? i can say it if i want to.”

“i suppose,” you stammer. your entire face feels like it’s glowing and you can barely look yeonjun in the eye. he’s watching you so fondly and it’s adorable, but it also makes you feel something you can’t explain.

“anyway,” you clear your throat and stare at the ballroom window, “what are you doing here? aren’t you supposed to be entertaining guests?”

“not for now. my parents are the ones talking to the diplomats. and everyone else… soobin and beomgyu are showing them some neat football tricks.”

“the same football trick that led them to meet me?”

he bursts out laughing and so do you.

“it’s boring in there without you, y/n,” he says.

“boring? i went in there for one minute and it was too much going on.”

“it only looks like a lot. most of them don’t really talk about anything, they just show off a lot and get drunk.” he sighs. “i missed you.”

you turn back to meet yeonjun’s gaze and nod. “i missed you, too. i was just wondering if you were okay.”

in between your words you hear the opening notes of a waltz. yeonjun perks up and stands straighter, then extends a hand to you. “i’d feel okay if i had a little waltz,” he says. “may i have this dance?”

“out here?”

“there’s nowhere else i’d rather dance with you in.”

you chuckle. he sounds so cheesy yet so earnest, and despite the elegant air he tries to pull off, you can see his eyes pleading with you to say yes. it only adds to his charm; how could you so cruel as to turn him down? you bow at him and take his hand, and he pulls you into position.

the music fills the air and you realize just what on earth you agreed to: you, a mere gardener who cannot dance to save their life, are waltzing with the crown prince. you have one hand clasped in his and another resting on his shoulder, and they both feel clammy. you barely keep up; you try to move your feet in time with the music but they drag rather than glide along. more than once do you step on yeonjun’s toes, and when it happens for the fourth time you nearly let go of him. you don’t want to think of what sorry state his once-polished dress shoes are now in.

“oh no 一 yeonjun, i’m so sorry 一”

yet he doesn’t let go; instead his hand on your waist rubs you reassuringly, then grips you a bit more firmly. with his other hand holding yours, he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. “it’s okay,” he says. “just follow me.”

you relax in his hold and try to follow him. he moves in slower, more careful steps to match you, and that makes it easier not to drag your feet so much. yet he never breaks time with the music, even swaying his body to the melody, and you allow yourself to be carried away by him. in his arms you sway too, letting your tension be replaced by your natural rhythm, and bit by bit the self-consciousness holding your body back begins to disappear.

the violins begin their crescendo and he bends you into a slight dip, and to your surprise you have no trouble following him. when he guides your upper body back up you start laughing from sheer joy, and the laughter spreads to him too, his hold relaxing but not fully letting go. you shuffle a bit closer to him, fully embracing the moment, the music and his presence overtaking your senses. 

only when the sounds of the quartet die down and the waltz comes to an end do you realize just how close you are to yeonjun. he keeps his hold on you even after the music has faded, and locks his eyes with yours. you can’t look away — you don’t want to look away — and you find yourself admiring the beauty mark near his right eye, then up at his shining eyes. again you notice just how fondly he gazes at you, as if you really are his favorite person in the world. 

again you feel that something that you can’t explain. it isn’t unpleasant, quite the opposite in fact, and the feeling draws you even closer to yeonjun. 

he leans in towards you and you do too until your foreheads touch. your gaze falls on his lips. the inexplicable feeling fills your senses with a strange burst of warmth. the world comes to a stop as his arms wrap around you and something in you pulls you closer still...

clink! clink!

yeonjun lets go of you and pulls away, blinking as if he just woke up from a dream. you see the blush creeping up on his cheeks even as he covers his face with his hand. “uh, sorry,” he says, grinning from nervousness. “i, uh... i have to go now. they’re doing the toast.”

you stare at him, unable to comprehend the trance you were in mere moments ago. “yeah, it’s fine, i... i understand.”

you bow at him once more, and he does the same.

“good night, y/n.”

“good night, yeonjun.”

he turns and nearly runs back to ballroom to catch the toast, and only then do you release the breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

一

the next day is a busy one for all the staff of the castle, including you; there is plenty to clean up in the aftermath of a ball. at first you are assigned just to clear out the floral arrangements left behind in the ballroom, but the sheer amount of cleanup means that you are dragged by the servants into mopping up any spills, washing the dinnerware, and folding up the linens. you feel guilty seeing just how much of a mess the guests have made (you recall finding wine poured into one of the flower vases and wince), so you roll up your sleeves and get to work.

with all the cleanup to take care of, yeonjun assumes that you are once again too busy to personally deliver flowers to his room. yet when he returns there after a long afternoon of talks and tours with the remaining guests, he notices that the flower vase on the ledge has been replaced. gone are the extra lilies of the valley that a servant previously placed there, and in their place is a bouquet of pink roses. he rifles through their stems until he finds a piece of folded paper lodged in between them, takes it out, and finds your now-familiar handwriting:

pink roses are for gratitude. thank you for last night, let’s dance together again.

he smiles and bites his lip at the note, then places it in his pocket. for the rest of the day, in between lessons and more talks and dinners with diplomats, he finds himself taking it out and rereading it. he thinks of the pink roses in his room and of the dance he shared with you, and he regains just enough strength to keep going.

end notes: don't worry about soogyu, they'll be back in the next chapter (esp soobin)! the next ch will also start to introduce the angsty bits so i hope y'all are ready

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x you #choi yeonjun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt angst #txt fluff #yeonjun angst #yeonjun fluff #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together imagines #bhj originals #fic:flowers of every color

[bella-rose29]

deep analysis of a very obscure thing in lockwood and co (bc why not)

Omg ok (spoilers for episodes 2 and 3 of lockwood and co, and also the books)

So the song that plays when Lucy is holding the ring in episode 2, during the experiment, that she says is Annabel Ward and her lover’s song (“it’s their song”), is Peer Gynt Suite No. 2: Solveig’s Song. 

The version I listened to that made me go “oh okay this is the same song” (after playing it through my earphones in one ear and playing the episode in the other and desperately trying to get the timings to match up to see if there were differences in the singing) is by Edvard Grieg — Yvonne Kenny, The Melbourne Symphony Orchestra & Vladimir Kamirski. From what I could work out, the song starts in the episode from just before the singing starts. 

The story behind the song is as follows:

"The long-suffering Solveig is devoted to Peer and she sings the song just as he – once more – abandons her. As she sits at the spinning wheel, she sings that although the years may pass she knows that he will come back to her – and that he will find her waiting for him, just as she promised.”

Lyrics:

Perhaps both winter and spring will pass by And next summer and the whole year will expire But surely you will return to me, I am certain And I shall be waiting as I once promised. 

May god give you strength, wherever in the world you may go May god give you joy, if you before his footstool stand Here I shall wait until you come back And if you wait above, we’ll meet there again, my friend.

I did an initial analysis and stuff and then did further research, so I’ve rejigged the document I had before to make more sense here :D

Story of the whole play:

The title character, Peer Gynt, is based on a Norwegian folk hero who is a rogue and will be destroyed unless saved by the love of a woman. 

He is described as a lazy and arrogant peasant youth who leaves home to go in search of his fortune. He’s very confident that he’ll succeed, but he keeps having disasters on his journey. 

At one point, he goes to the wedding of a wealthy young woman (that he might have married), where he meets Solveig. She falls in love with him, so naturally his first thought is to abduct the bride from her own wedding and abandon Solveig. 

Then he has really cool and awesome adventures, going around the world and gaining wealth and fame from all his different exploits, but he is, at the middle of it all, deeply unhappy. Eventually, when he is old and disillusioned, he goes back to Norway, where Solveig awaits him, welcoming him home and redeeming him. 

Annabel and John Fairfax are sort of foils to Solveig and Peer respectively, in that they are what happens as a result of a different kind of abandonment (Annabel’s murder). 

Solveig is what Annabel would have been had she stayed alive and Fairfax had simply broken things off in a more traditional sense (i.e. if he hadn’t killed her), and while Peer is redeemed and saved by the love of a woman, Fairfax is destroyed by it, because he twisted the love into hate. 

Now for the parallels between Fairfax and Peer:

Peer is a peasant with little success in life -> in episode 3, as they get off the train, Lockwood notes how Fairfax “came from nothing”. 

Peer has a series of unfortunate disasters on his hunt for success -> Fairfax (in the books), before the Problem, spent his time drinking, gambling, and getting into show business, instead of going into the family business. In the show this does not seem to be the case, but it’s a nice parallel that includes the books!

Peer abandons Solveig to run off with the bride -> I interpreted this as Fairfax abandoning (murdering) Annabel for his own bride, which is his desire for success. In a way his bride is the Fairfax iron company, because he’s practically married to it. 

After the abduction, Peer has really successful and fantastical adventures, very different to the disasters that he had previously experienced before the kidnapping -> after Annabel, Lockwood again (Lucy says he has a hard-on for Fairfax which I think is hilarious) in episode 3 (just before talking about how Fairfax came form nothing) notes that Fairfax “succeeded in everything he’s tried. Publishing, show business - he didn’t even start smelting until he was in his thirties. Now look at him”. Fairfax by his own admission also worked in casinos, adding another job (or adventure) to his list. 

Peer gains wealth and fame -> Fairfax gains wealth and fame (just dropping in “miss Kingston got her hair done special” because I love it and it's vaguely related)

And this is where the similarities split off from one another:

Peer is deeply unhappy -> Fairfax seems to be perfectly fine with his situation. 

Peer comes back home old and disillusioned -> Fairfax in a way comes home, as he ends up back in Combe Carey Hall (although this is not where Annabel was killed, it is still one of his properties), and he is old, but he is not disillusioned. He says in episode 3 that he doesn’t regret buying the ring, he regrets “leaving it behind when I bricked her into that chimney” and that he “knew it was monstrous. But I couldn’t throw my whole life away for one mistake. Not then, not now.” He still isn’t willing to give up his life, because he is perfectly content where he is. 

The final parallel I want to note is between Annabel and Solveig. While one was murdered and the other neglected but still devoted and in love, both women wait for their old lover. In completely different ways, sure, because one is sitting at her spinning wheel hoping that he’ll come back and see that she’s the right one for him (cue “you belong with me”) and the other is bricked into a chimney as an angry Type Two ghost that kills people, but both are waiting. 

“She’s been wanting to see you for a very… long time, Mr Fairfax” Lucy says.

Annabel is devoted to Fairfax, and as she dances and sings along to the song, he abandons her (kills her). while waiting in that cavity in the wall, and her spirit is bound to the ring/necklace, she is waiting for him. 

We see in episode 3 that when Lucy lets Annabel out of the ring, throwing it in the air to set her ghost free, Annabel doesn't attack the agents, or even Ellie who is stood nearby. 

She goes straight for Fairfax, because she's been waiting for him. Her devotion to him may have changed into devotion for revenge over the years, but she was waiting for him nonetheless. In a way he did come back to her, even if it was unintentionally, and he ended up being greeted by her one last time. 

He is not saved by coming home and finding his version of Solveig, he is instead destroyed, because his version of Solveig was killed along with any love she might have had for him. 

#I spent hours on this and I'm not even sorry #if anyone has anything to add or correct me on then please let me know! #belle says stuff #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #episode 2 - Let Go of Me #episode 3 - Doubt Thou the Stars #Annabel Ward #John Fairfax

[animentality]

last playthrough i noticed gorty has a piano in his office at wyrms rock. think he actually plays it?

part of me thinks he couldnt so much as put two notes together and its just there to look fancy and expensive, which is funnier and maybe more in character, but the romantic in me keeps thinking about him genuinely being able to play it, and good at it too. not sure where or when he’d have learned but hes got the steady hands for it anyway

also him playing it for durge, of course. amnesiac durge catching themself humming a tune that they cant remember ever having heard before, and then later they find out its a song gortash used to play a lot when they were together

Don't fucking do that to me, anon, I'd be dead on the floor.

The Dark Urge expresses an admiration for Orin's "artwork."

I wonder if maybe the Dark Urge wishes they were more artistic themselves. They're very efficient and practical.

They wouldn't have an eye for art, or music.

Which is why it's kind of sad to me, to imagine a bard Dark Urge?

Imagine loving music and wanting to grow up to play music for people...and then you find out you're a murderous demigod.

Like ouch.

No symphony orchestra in the upper city for you!

But as for whether or not Gortash knows how to play...realistically, it's just there to make him feel like he's one of those snotty nobles, born with a silver spoon in their mouth, all knowing how to play at least one instrument from childhood.

But romantically?

i'm with you, anon.

Gortash learns ONE song, that he can play for the Dark Urge, and it is awful, it's soooo off tune, it's awkward and he's terrible.

But the Dark Urge is transfixed, because they have never stopped to enjoy music before. And they can't hear the mistakes.

They just hear a man playing a song for them, and only them.

No gods between them. No trail of corpses or blood or plans for the invasion of the sword coast.

Just two people, sitting in his office, one badly playing the piano, the other listening and wishing they could speak into existence the forbidden thoughts and feelings racing through their heart, but knowing better.

Also, let's go wild.

Everyone seems to headcanon Gortash inviting the Dark Urge to come talk to him privately.

He invites them in and he's playing that fucking song.

and they recognize it as something they have hummed to themselves, heard late at night, when they were between conscious and unconscious.

maybe it's even a song they hum to themselves in broken melodies and forgotten harmonies when they're feeling particularly uncontrollable or murderous, because gortash was the only one who ever knew how to manage your urge.

ahhhh.

anon, stop giving me fic ideas.

you won't like what happens.

#durgetash #baldurs gate 3 #bg

[blurredcolour]

Extrication in G Major | Part One

Extrication in G Major Masterlist

Summary: Your first encounter with Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin gives you the impression that he is rude and arrogant, but he is determined to convince you to get to know him better.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Cellist Reader

Warnings: Language, Blood, Reader Injury, Dress Uniforms, Jake Being a Bit of a Jerk, Jake Being a Lot of a Flirt, Alcohol Consumption

Word Count: 3738

The door to your apartment wavered in the slight breeze, the latch broken – likely to never function again. Warm liquid dripped from the underside from your worn kitchen table, bearing the scars of your childhood and its journey across the country in the back of a U-Haul. The droplets hit the linoleum tile with a soft pat, pat at first, before enough of them accumulated to change the sound to a sharper plink, plink.

Your eyes scanned over the hunting knife driven through your ruined hand and into the wood of the tabletop, the blood pooling in your palm. As the bitter taste of fear belatedly flooded your mouth, panic setting in at the gravity of your situation, it was ironic that the fingers of your free hand were reaching for your phone, fumbling across the fractured screen to call Lieutenant Commander Jacob Seresin of their own volition. Or perhaps it was not ironic at all.

Driving cross-country in a ten-foot rented moving truck from Boston to San Diego in January had not been an act born of choice, but one born of necessity. You had needed to leave the east coast. To put more than just a few states between you this time. The opening with the San Diego Symphony, courtesy of an early parental leave, had presented itself at the perfect time. And was geographically ideal in that it was in the diagonally opposite corner of the country from the orchestra you had just left.

Given that it was well outside the top twenty symphonies in the country and maybe, just maybe you would have just a little time to do what you loved before what you had left behind caught up with you.

With your finances in their abysmal state, you barely had enough to make a security deposit on a dubious studio apartment in a neighbourhood the internet indicated you probably should not consider. But San Diego was expensive, and this living situation would hopefully be temporary until you received a few pay cheques in your new position. You were careful, however, to never leave your cello unattended in your apartment; carrying it with you everywhere as you rode public transport and relied on ride shares to get around.

It was with great relief, then, that you happily accepted an invitation to join a few of the other musicians in a performance quartet. They had approached you after string sectionals as their usual cellist was out with the flu and they had a performance booked for that Friday. Four days of focused practice would be more than enough for you to prepare, you assured them, agreeing to stay after ensemble rehearsal to practice together on Thursday evening.

That was, after all, the life of a professional musician – a great deal of your rehearsal time was spent in isolation, perfecting your portion of the piece, learning your cues, and studying the composer, with the expectation of arriving at the final rehearsal able to play flawlessly.

The four of you were roughly halfway through the selection of pieces to be played, when the lead violinist Marco asked you and Haeun, the violist, to the work through a section together to ensure a more complimentary sound. The door to the auditorium opened, immediately bringing your bows to a halt, and sending all of your eyes to your watches. The security guard, Hal, had assured you it would be no issue for you to remain until ten. But it was only half past eight. And the man who strutted in was most certainly not the retired police officer with a shock of white hair sprouting beneath his black security officer’s cap.

No. The man who strolled in was tall and broad, tanned and blonde, dressed in military khakis with biceps that tested the limits of his shirt sleeves. He had a pair of aviator sunglasses dangling from the breast pocket of his uniform, and suspicion in his eyes as he looked towards the four of you on stage.

“Lieutenant Commander Seresin!” Marco gasped and set his violin and bow on his now empty seat before disappearing in the wings, only to re-emerge off stage, meeting the imposing man in the front row.

There were about the same height, just under six foot tall, but next to Marco the width of the man’s shoulders made up from any lack of altitude.

“Good evening Mr. Campillo, just thought I’d come by and see how the preparations are going…” His eyes raked across the stage before settling on you, narrowing slightly. Instinctually, your fingers tightened on the neck of your instrument, knees hugging the sides slightly under his scrutiny before he turned back to Marco. “I see your quartet has a new member…”

You gritted your teeth at the doubt in his voice, trying to keep your face passive as you were really counting on the extra funds this gig would afford you.

“Yes, she graciously agreed to step in for us as Cecily caught the flu this week. We are extremely fortunate to have her on such short notice.”

“You’ll forgive me if I’m not as excited as you, Mr. Campillo, to have a brand-new cellist in the quartet I hired for an event I’ve been personally charged with. Admirals don’t retire every day, and everything must be to the highest of standards.” He cast a glance back at you over his shoulder, hands coming to rest on his hips. “No offence, miss.”

Your spine stiffened as the second violinist Benoit was barely able to contain his gasp beside you.

“Now, Lieutenant Commander, please let me assuage your concerns. She’s Julliard trained and most recently played for the Boston Symphony Orchestra, widely considered one of the top five in the country, truly, I assure you that…”

Marco’s words barely reached your ears, blood rushing through them as you tried to take deep, calming breaths. The fingertips resting on your bow grip were losing colour from how tight you were holding it…from the audacity of this military man waltzing into your practice, insulting your capabilities at merely a glance. You had swallowed more of your pride in the last few weeks than your stomach could manage, and this muscled idiot was more than you could stand.

If the moron needed proof of your worth, then you could certainly deliver that. Fresh in your memory from your audition for the seat, wordlessly you relaxed into a proper playing position began to play Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1: Prelude. It was perhaps the most famous cell solo, mostly due to the efforts of Yo-Yo Ma, and a rather melancholy piece. There was no lack of sadness in your life upon which to draw from and mixed with the burning sense of challenge the Lieutenant Commander raised within you, your fingers flew across the fingerboard, head bobbing slightly with the rhythm of the piece. As you played the higher notes, your eyebrows naturally rose, not unlike that of a singer, and neck extending backward slightly on the longer notes, it was as though the music was being produced from within you rather than through an instrument.

So absorbed in the music, you missed the way the group fell silent until you pulled your bow from the strings, the last of the vibrations fading away, and opened your eyes to find him staring openly at you. You swallowed tightly to clear your throat.

“Will that suffice, Lieutenant Commander?” You asked pointedly.

He supplied you with a vague nod in reply, reaching behind him to fold down the nearest seat before sinking into it. Marco stayed by his side for a moment, hesitating, before jogging back to rejoin the three of you on stage. Lieutenant Commander Seresin remained there, seated in the front row, until nearly ten o’clock, watching the four of you finish your rehearsal. You could not help but wonder if he had more ‘important’ things to do.

You could hear him and Marco making final arrangements as you packed up your cello, pulling out your phone to summon a ride share to make the trip home. You frowned slightly at the jagged crack down the face of your screen; yet another thing that would wait until funds allowed for a replacement. You slung your cello onto your back, making your way out to the parking lot until a blur of khaki halted you in your tracks.

“I really meant no offense, darlin’.” Seresin grinned from much closer this time and you were irritated to note that the pale, jade green of his eyes reminded you of sea glass. “You know how it is…” He shrugged in a way you were certain had previously charmed the undergarments off countless bodies.

“I’m certain I don’t, Lieutenant Commander, being a civilian and all. But your concern is wasted. A musician is accustomed to proving their abilities to anyone and everyone who demands it of them.” No matter how unqualified. You kept the last to yourself and moved to step around him.

You caught the way his eyes shifted to your cello as you hiked it higher upon your shoulder.

“Please, allow me…” He reached for it, and you shook your head firmly.

“No thank you, Lieutenant Commander, I’m fine.”

“Please, darlin’, it’s Jake. There’s no need to be so formal…” He flashed his perfectly straight, white teeth and you had never been more grateful to receive a notification on your phone.

You looked down to see that your driver ‘Andy’ had arrived before the glow of headlights shone through the glass doors ahead.

“Looks like my ride is here. Good night, Lieutenant Commander.” You nodded to him, swallowing back a sigh as he still insisted on holding open each of the lobby doors for you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, darlin’.” He nodded, undeterred, helping you and your cello into the maroon sedan.

“Tomorrow.” You replied with a nod before he shut the car door for you, sighing heavily and dropping your face into your hand as the car pulled away. San Diego was supposed to be simple, so why had the universe just set this stubborn, gorgeous man in your path?

The ride share driver and you had competed to vacate the parking lot of your building once he had dropped you off. He had won, but just barely. Locking the door behind you, you breathed a sigh of relief to find your meagre possessions intact. You tucked the cello into the back of the closet, inside one of the moving boxes you had saved for just that purpose, to make it as unappealing as possible, and pulled out one of your performance dresses to be sure it was free of wrinkles for the party tomorrow night.

After another dinner of cup noodles, you put on some white noise on your phone and did your best to get as much sleep as possible, forgoing any practice the day of the party to ensure you were as rested as possible. You arrived at the hotel an hour before the party was scheduled to begin, freshly showered and wearing subtle make-up, the breeze from the nearby ocean catching the skirt of your dress as you climbed out of your ride share.

“You clean up nice, darlin’.” You heard the familiar voice and looked up, the moisture in your mouth suddenly evaporating at the sight of Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin standing before you in his dress whites and…was that a fucking…sword at his hip? How had you not been mentally prepared for the possibility of dress uniforms.

“You, too…” Your lips somehow mustered to ability to move, and you barely heard your voice above the buzzing in your ears as you watched him reach into the car to fetch your cello, too stupefied to protest this time.

“Why thank you, you’re too kind.” He flashed that ruinous smile again. “Follow me.” He jerked his head to the right and turned to lead you inside.

You followed without a word, past the reception desk, down a few hallways, and into a ballroom decked in Navy decorations. Of course, the dress whites meant the Navy. He was a Navy man. Slowly your cognitive skills were returning to you.

“Your fellow musicians are set-up right here.” He led you over to a platform in the corner of the room where the others were just unpacking their instruments and gently set your cello case on the carpeted floor. “You all have programs on your music stands, but please let me know if need anything else.”

“Thank you very much.” You nodded earnestly, nibbling on the corner of your lip as you quickly went about setting up so the four of you could be in place and ready to play before the guests arrived.

He grinned, looking more than a little pleased with himself, before stepping away to take care of other responsibilities. You could not deny that your eyes found him several times throughout the evening during your warm-up, between songs, as the guest of honour arrived, as they served dinner. The military most certainly had numerous lethal weapons in its arsenal and Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin was handcrafted to bring about your death it seemed.

It was a miracle that you made it through the full set, the evening a true test of professional abilities, taking a bow as the emcee took to the podium to ask those in attendance for a round of applause for the music your quartet had provided. He then announced they would be moving onto speeches as the four of you began to pack up as quietly as possible.

“Hey, thank y’all again that was fantastic.” Jake whispered, shaking each of your hands with a warm grin, a hint of whisky on his breath. “We’ve got some extra dinners from folks who couldn’t come are any of you hungry?”

While Marco and Haeun opted to head home to their families, you and Benoit agreed. Jake got you set up at a table in the back, speaking to one of the waiters who promptly brought out two plates. Jake slid into the empty chair beside you as the speeches echoed through the ballroom, glancing at you happily as you did your best to act like this was not your first proper meal in weeks. You carefully cut and savoured each bite – even the veggies tasted like heaven. When they cut the intricately decorated cake, Jake disappeared only to return with three sizeable slices.

“I’m glad you approve of my meal selection.” He winked and you sipped your water sheepishly.

“It was very good.” You admitted before looking over the cake. “Did you select this as well, Lieutenant Commander?” You tilted your head, enjoying the way his eyes crinkled at the corners in annoyance.

“I’ve told you to call me Jake, darlin’, and yes, yes, I did. Lemon cake with a vanilla bean buttercream but there’s a surprise in the middle. Go on and tell me what you think.” He leaned in watching you expectantly.

Lifting your fork, you used the edge of it to slice through the soft piece of cake, mouth already watering at the promise of something sweet, before stabbing a bite-sized portion and sliding it past your lips. As you chewed thoughtfully, you fought back the urge to moan at the delicious combination of flavours but could not help the gasp that flew from your mouth when the bright tang of raspberry cut through the sweetness of the buttercream.

Jake grinned broadly and leaned back in his chair, nodding heavily with satisfaction. “Raspberry compote.”

“That is fantastic.” You grudgingly admitted before going in for a second bite.

He chuckled richly and watched you enjoy a few more bites, nodding to Benoit as he excused himself for the evening. You swallowed nervously, realizing you were now alone in a room full of dress uniforms, under the intense gaze of one Lieutenant Commander.

“Are you enjoying San Diego?” He asked, breaking the silence as the DJ began to set up for the dance portion of the evening.

You nodded slowly, swallowing your most recent bite.

“Haven’t really been here long but it’s beautiful….” You glanced at him and tilted your head. “So aside from choosing dinners and cakes and musicians, what do you do for the Navy?” You asked, hoping to distract him by getting him to talk about himself.

His lips twitched into a smirk.

“Well darlin’, I’m a Naval Aviator…a pilot…” He replied confidently, tapping the set of golden wings on his chest, making you swallow the last of your cake painfully.

“Fuck me…” You breathed as the DJ introduced herself through the sound system. You tensed and quickly took a deep sip of your water.

“Sorry didn’t catch that?” He leaned in, eyes twinkling with a dangerous mischief.

“F... Fancy.” You said loudly into his ear as the first song of the night began throbbing through the speakers, something from the eighties – the retiring admiral’s heyday.

He straightened with a knowing smirk on his face and offered his hand.

“Dance with me.” It was more of a command than an invitation.

“I should really head home; we’ve got a concert series next week and I…” You swallowed hard as he raised an eyebrow and stood, extending his hand to you once more.

You glanced at your cello beneath the table, loathe to leave it unattended, even in a room filled with commissioned officers.

“Is that the real problem? One moment.” He nodded and squeezed your shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, the heat of his touch lingering through the fabric of your dress.

You had just risen to your feet, prepared to make your escape, when he returned with another officer with wings on his chest but no sword at his hip.

“This is Lieutenant Javy Machado, my wingman. There’s no one else here I would trust to look after your cello.” Jake slapped him on the back proudly and you pressed your lips together trying not to grin at how adorable a picture they presented.

“Your instrument is in good hands ma’am, though might I persuade you to dance with me instead? Hangman is a terrible dancer…” He trailed off as Jake pushed him down into his recently vacated chair and silently accepted defeat as Jake offered his hand to you once more.

“Please?” He asked, raising an eyebrow hopefully and you swallowed, not quite finding the heart to turn him down after he had found someone to mind your cello – despite how complicated this was getting.

“One dance, Lieutenant Commander.” You acquiesced, setting your hand in his, licking your lips involuntarily at the intensity of his responding smile.

He led you out onto the dance floor, sliding his arm around you to rest against your lower back and your heart leapt into your throat as you realized at some point between the table and the floor the music had changed to a slow song. Sinking your teeth into your lower lip at the warmth of his palm seeping through your dress, you set your hand in his, letting him lead. He easily navigated past the other couples, and despite his wingman’s warnings, he was an excellent dancer.

“Why did he call you Hangman?” You looked up at him, startled to find his eyes already fixed down on you.

“It’s my call sign, we use them in the air. Javy’s is Coyote. Still working on getting you to call me Jake first, though. One step at a time.” He smirked and you could not help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “I have to say…” He murmured, leaning in close to your ear. “I’ve never been jealous of a cello before…Wish it was me between those lovely legs of yours.” He breathed against your tender skin, making you shiver involuntarily.

It was by no means an inventive pick-up line to receive as a cellist – had even been successful a time or two during your studies at Julliard, but it had become tired and cliché as you had matured. Yet there was something about the earnest way in which he delivered it. Or maybe it was the Texas drawl, thickened by the whisky you could still smell on his breath. It sent a thrill of desire through you that was altogether dangerous.

Mercifully, as the song came to an end a rather frantic looking individual bustled up to Jake and tapped him on the shoulder. He reluctantly released you and turned to look down at the smaller man.

“Terribly sorry to interrupt, Lieutenant Commander but Admiral Simpson is looking for you…” He fidgeted nervously and you honestly pitied the man for the murderous look Jake was currently raining down on him.

He turned back to you and frowned.

“Forgive me darlin’, duty calls. I hope you might stay but I…”

You shook your head sadly and he all but pouted yet nodded graciously. You took a deep breath, knowing you would probably regret this, but selfishly wanting to see his smile one last time.

“Goodnight, Jake.” You smiled softly and bit your lip painfully as he pressed both hands to his chest, green eyes glittering and smile stretching his lips wide as his face lit up with glee.

“Goodnight, darlin’.” He crowed, walking backward through the crowd towards his beckoning admiral.

You shook your head, ducking your face as more than a few people turned to glance your way. Picking your way quickly across the dancefloor, you returned to your table, smiling fondly to see Lieutenant Machado waiting patiently with your cello.

“Thank you very much, Lieutenant. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.” You smiled warmly and grabbed your instrument, slinging it over your shoulder and booking a ride as you wound your way through the halls to the front of the hotel. You walked quickly, nearly holding your breath, hoping the admiral would keep Jake long enough, or deliver a request complex enough, that you could make your way out of there before he realized he did not have your number.

Despite your initial impression of him, the evening had more than confirmed that the man did not deserve to be entangled in the morass of your life. It would be best for you to disappear tonight and for him to take that charm and those ruinous good looks elsewhere. Your paths were highly unlikely to ever cross again, anyway.

Read Part Two

Extrication in G Major Masterlist

Image Credit: Devotion (2022)

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman fic #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #top gun fanfiction

[razzledazzleemmet]

The last clip I could recover from the tape. It's a bit broken at the end… but I decided to post it anyway. It felt… important.

Fan animation of Blot/Rex from broadside beach/shipwrecked 64 created by  @/SqueakDCorgeh  !

Animated and edited in Blender

Sound effects from Freesounds

Music in beginning is Walt Disney's Silly Symphonies Selection - Ambrose And His Orchestra - Decca K. 745

#my art #blot #shipwrecked 64 #blot the rabbit #broadside beach #animation

[thefirstknife]

New week, new Veil Log entry, same me (insane).

Chioma: Chioma Esi, research log: Veil interface. Maya and I have finalized a prototype interface for the Veil. Hopefully, it'll allow our research team to investigate it in detail. The system's designed like an orchestra, with a central "conductor" directing a symphony of minds to act like a distributed network. The... idea came to us by watching how collective networks like SIVA and the Vex operate. The hope is we can aggregate and parse the vast amounts of psychic data emitting from the Veil. Turn it into something intelligible. If we're successful, the interface will provide us with a starting point for any future technological research tied to the Veil. The risks of — of such integration are high. The estimates mortality rates are... but I... I... I don't know what I'm doing. This is wrong. This is so wrong! We shouldn't — all she ever talks about is survival! "Think big picture!" What about your survival? What about your heart? My heart? [sighs tearfully] I can't keep doing this. I can't. I can't! Nimbus: Damn. Osiris: I... again, I see a shadow of myself in Maya Sundaresh. The man I could have become had I let obsession continue to rule me. I'm worried what the next recording will reveal. Nimbus: Me too.

This broke me. Chioma's VA is incredible.

But besides the emotional damage, this is once again super interesting. The prototype interface is one of the first things that we encounter as we're going towards the Veil from the final mission of the campaign. The first of the chairs we see is what Nimbus calls a CloudArk prototype:

It's here more generally referring to the room we're in itself; the room we're getting the logs from also features prototype interfaces that were used for initially communicating with and researching the Veil and matches the descryption of being designed like an orchestra. There's 12 of the chair-interfaces in there and they're all facing the Veil and there's a long walkway overlooking the facility that might be where the "conductor" would stand.

Either way, the early researchers found a way to tap into the Veil without getting physically close by plugging themselves into these machines. Having more people plugged in at the same time allowed them to spread the load of the psychic connection and limit casualties.

However, casualties were still happening. It's super interesting that Chioma is still reminding us that the base technology here was inspired by SIVA and the Vex because they're collective networks and they seem to have more success with this sort of thing. So the researchers have to also become a collective network by linking themselves through these machines with the Veil. Eerily similar now to how the Witness' people linked their minds.

This is all the beginnings of the CloudArk, where Neomuni upload themselves and live in a virtual reality. While their bodies are physically in cryo, their minds are in the CloudArk. Again, ominous now with the recent reveals about the Witness. I'm still of the belief that this ability will be important for us to be able to enter the portal. Really interesting re-reading this post now that we DO know about the Witness and that it merged its entire species into one being by using the knowledge of Darkness and the Veil; this now strengthens the possibility that in order to pass through the portal, we need to be psychically merged with... something. The CloudArk might end up being the technology we use to do it and we're being shown how the Neomuni discovered this technology and used it to make the CloudArk by imitating other "collective networks." So far only one "collective network" managed to successfully enter the portal: the Witness.

The rest of this, as I've said already, has broken me. Chioma's pain about Maya's descent into madness is truly heartbreaking and even more so with Osiris recognising his own obsessesion through Maya. Chioma's plea for Maya to stop this is also heartbreaking from our perspective because we know that they didn't stop. The technology was finished and constructed and is still in use today. And as an added beauty to this, it's a gay man finding a connection with a lesbian. I cannot even begin to express how incredible it feels to get this sort of insanely good scifi story where literally everyone involved in the quest is LGBT+.

#destiny 2 #destiny 2 spoilers #veil log #chioma #maya #osiris #cloudark #long post #Youtube

[mlmxreader]

Best Friend At My Side | platonic!Alejandro Vargas x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: "Sit still and let me take a look at it" alejandro pls

summary: there's no glory, no victory, no enemy. There isn't any cause worth dying like that for.

tws: death, injury, blood, swearing, graphic depictions of war

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Sent to kill, to watch over a land that belonged to no one, all too aware of the snipers hidden away in rooftops and bushes; fighting for a mile that would soon be taken back again, at the cost of men who didn't even know what they were fighting for anymore.

Shrapnel and debris falling through the air like snow, it was always best to keep your head down low and to try and find a hole to squeeze into; the symphony of destruction raging on as charges were conducted and, ultimately, cost more than what they were worth for either side.

The wounded, if they survived that long, were always left there until dark; their screams snapping through the symphony, yet never making it stop. Shells and guns made up the main part of the melancholic orchestra; rifles and screams made up the backup.

Every bullet that whizzed past had your name engraved on it, that much was at least true.

You had lost so many men, so many friends, to a war that you had stopped believing in before you had even gotten to the front lines; along with those on the opposite side, your will had been broken and ground to dust, forcing you to continue fighting even though every fibre and atom of your being protested against it.

Dreams of home, of comfort and love, had long been shattered; there was no turning back from this Hell on Earth.

There was no life left anywhere.

The once proud and green trees had been stripped down to trunks with jagged sticks, black and grey from being burned by the ever raging shelling.

The evergreen bushes, so thick and ripe with fresh berries once upon a time, had been ravaged and turned into just thick bunches of twigs.

Buildings had been gutted, their structures and foundations all naked and bare for the world to see.

Mud squelched beneath you when you moved, pulling you into its sinking grasp; men died trying to run through it, their boots getting stuck and giving snipers the perfect opportunity.

It didn't matter what side they were on.

Great puddles had formed in once quiet and peaceful roads, concrete and tarmac smashed to pieces and suffering with great and gaping wounds.

The birds and the insects had long retreated, except the lice and the spiders; anything that was big enough had scattered long ago. Foxes, cats, badgers.

Everything had run off.

Lifeless, the battlefield's scars were all too easy to see; how it wept with each shell and mortar, how it shook with violent sobs, so harsh that the barbed wire fences sometimes fell apart.

You tried to keep your head down low, tried to keep it out of the way of the shrapnel, the debris, the bullets; holding onto your rifle as if it would take up flight and drag you far from the battlefield.

Far from a war you did not want to fight in.

Rodolfo.

Sebastian.

John.

Simon.

Kyle.

All gone.

Lives erased by commands from generals who did not understand what it was like to be on the front lines; you weren't even sure if your best friend was still alive.

You wanted to hope that he was, you wanted to hope that Alejandro was still breathing, but you knew that nothing would come of hope.

Hope meant death.

The drums of the war had truly sounded.

Streets stained with blood amongst the thick and squelching, moist, mud.

The end was near for you, you knew that; your friends were all but entirely gone, there was no reason for you to keep fighting anymore.

You had to face your fate.

You had to realise that you were going to die for a cause you despised.

You could almost hear the whispers of your fallen friends, calling from the other side of the hole you had squished yourself into; resting beside those that they once called foe.

They would never get the chance to see another dawn; no one deserved to die in such a way.

Too many lives had been wasted already, too many men had died for no good reason; dreams and promises all broken and left to rot in the mud.

A charge into certain death, swallowed by the war machine; no enemy, no glory, no victory.

Only friends and strangers rotting and dying in the mud.

Sacrificed for fuck all.

Their memories and legacies that they could have made, pissed on and destroyed.

Just another pile of bones in the dirt.

You were almost hopeful that it had been a shell that hit you when you felt something shake you, but when you looked up, and you saw your best friend, you could only nod.

You couldn't smile, couldn't feel relieved that he was alive.

You tossed your rifle aside.

Even when Alejandro got into the hole with you, sitting with his back against the wet dirt, his hand pressed into his side, and he smiled brokenly; he was breathing heavily, eyes filled with tears and his lips chapped.

You wanted to be relieved that he was alive, but you couldn't find it in yourself as you furrowed your brows, your gaze dropping to his hand, and the dark liquid that was seeping into his skin, staining it.

"Ale?"

"I'm okay," he breathed out. His breathing was erratic, wheezing and rattling in his chest. "I'm okay."

You shook your head. "No you're not."

You went to look at his wounds, examine him, but he gently kicked you to get you to move.

"I'm fine, soldado... you're a good man, but I'm fine."

You frowned, shaking your head again. "Ale, just sit still and let me take a look at it."

But Alejandro was insistent, and refused to let you get close as his breathing picked up and his eyes went wide and wild, like he was suddenly so full of fear. "I'm okay, amigo, just... just get yourself... get yourself out of this Infierno."

"No," you clenched your jaw. "Not without you."

He couldn't move, every breath was too painful and he was aware of the blood that he was losing; he didn't have time to argue, so instead, he made enough room that he could pull you against his good side, clinging to you like a child.

You held on, closing your eyes tightly as you listened to his ragged and pained breaths.

"I'm not leaving," you whispered. "I'm not going anywhere. I've got you. I've got you, you're gonna be okay."

You kept repeating the words, trying to convince yourself more than him.

But his breathing was getting weaker, and he closed his eyes as he leaned into you.

Slumped.

You didn't budge.

You hung your head, weeping.

Sobbing.

Violently.

Your chest heaved.

Your stomach dropped.

The tears were hot.

The gasps for breath were so loud that you couldn't hear anything else.

Sobbing.

Your throat hurt the more noise you made.

Struggling to tell him that you weren't leaving.

Fighting to tell him that you weren't going anywhere without him, that you had him.

Screaming.

Screaming so loud, your ears popped.

Your throat was raw.

You sat by his side, and that's how he died.

With his best friend at his side.

Clinging onto each other like scared children.

#mlem writes #cod alejandro #alejandro vargas imagine #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x you #alejandro vargas #alejandro cod #alejandro vargas fic #cod x yn #cod x y/n #cod x reader #cod x you #cod imagine #cod one shot #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod fic #cod mw ii #cod mw2 fanfic #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw x reader #cod mw2 x you #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 imagine #cod mw2 fanfiction #cod mw2 fic #cod mwii x reader

[owliellder]

Music Recs (for writing)

I thought it would be fun to make a post of the type of music I listen to when I'm writing while also providing music recommendations cause i love finding new music myself. obviously I'll add more as I go along

I use music to help with feelings (like angst, love, fluff, etc) since I struggle conveying those naturally and I only really use apple music because spotify has always evaded me, so I'm literally just going to write each song and then link it on youtube 😭

also heads up, my music taste is EVERYWHERE so there is no rhyme or reason to any of this

Fluff/Happy Mix:

Fall On Me by R.E.M.

Fresh by Daft Punk

Keep Feeling Fascination by The Human League

Around and Around by John Denver

Sultans of Swing by Dire Straits

Feel It All Around by Washed Out (don't mind me, just adding Washed Out's entire discography here)

You'll See It by Washed Out

Angst:

Veridis Quo by Daft Punk

Face to Face by Daft Punk

Wicked Game by Chris Isaak

It's Raining Again by Supertramp

Take The Long Way Home by Supertramp

Eyes Without a Face by Billy Idol

Goodbye Again by John Denver

Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve (this is a very specific type of angst I feel)

Belong by Washed Out

Phone Call by Washed Out (this version of the song can only be found on youtube)

You and I by Washed out (again, this specific version is only on youtube)

Clap Intro by Washed Out

What Once Was by Hers

Just Wait Til Next Year by John Maus

Sprawling Idiot Effigy by Nero's Day at Disneyland (I do not suggest you listen to this one unless experimental music is your thing cause I tend to listen to Nero's Day at Disneyland when I am too under-stimulated to write)

(In) Love:

Love Story (Instrumental) by Lana Del Ray (I put this on loop for hours it's such a beautiful instrumental)

Digital Love by Daft Punk

Cheri Cheri Lady by Modern Talking

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths

Linger by The Cranberries

Annie's Song by John Denver

The ENTIRE Paracosm album by Washed Out (trust me on this one it all flows as one song)

Eyes Be Closed by Washed Out

Amor Fati by Washed Out

Everything in You by Adventure Time (ft Half Shy) (the Fionna and Cake series ruined me)

Nights in White Satin by The Moody Blues, London Festival Orchestra

Baby I'm Yours by Cass Elliot

Stay by Oingo Boingo

Spice 😈:

not a lot of this yet since i tend to listen to my BG music when writing smut

Lose Yourself to Dance by Daft Punk

Make Love by Daft Punk

Hurt/Comfort:

Something About Us by Daft Punk

Instant Crush by Daft Punk (ft. Julian Casablancas) (I really like Daft Punk)

Why (12" Version) by Carly Simon

Gypsy by Fleetwood Mac

Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

Back Home Again by John Denver

Poems, Prayers, and Promises by John Denver (I also really like John Denver)

Kids by MGMT

The Ghost Inside by Broken Bells

Andromeda by Weyes Blood

Luck by Washed Out

Far Away by Washed Out

Fly Away by John Denver

General Scene Building/BG:

now this is my favorite part since these are what I use most often when writing. you can pick out obvious tone indicators here in the titles 😭

a way i've learned to tap into certain feelings for when i'm writing is by using my own feelings on personal experiences, so a lot of these playlists i'm linking I have a lot of personal connection to (also because they're all so damn specific)

you're inside the last memories of a dying person (playlist) by nobody

you're an astronaut lost in space (playlist) by nobody

i feel like i've been here before (playlist) by nobody

|| nobody here || Silent Hill fog core playlist by Armand Tormo

February 22, 2001 - A liminal playlist by Dan

recalling moments of a christmas that never happened (playlist) by nobody

you're visiting the grave of an old friend while remembering the moments you spent together (playlist) by nobody

you found a place where spring is eternal (playlist) by nobody

you're staring at the ceiling while creating romanticized stories in your head (playlist) by nobody

you're walking under the golden trees watching the melancholic leaves dancing in the air (playlist) by nobody

Lost in the Poolrooms (a visual vaporwave mix) by K1K1n

Music for Vibin' on Jupiter's Hydrogen Sea (vaporwave mix) by olimar124

Unknown Songs (Lost Media Comp.) by Christopher Cherigo (one of my hyperfixations is unknown songs lololol)

[wizardfrog69]

Stumbled across your tumblr page and ya know, not me going FERAL over Sigma. . . anyways would you mind doing a Ballroom/Masquerade Dance scene with him. have you ever seen The cat Returns? There is the dance scene from that or even SVTFOE during the blood-moon ball. Anyways I'm eternally grateful if you write this, if not that's chill too

OMG YES I LOVE THAT IDEA I've watched the cat returns and I love that movie ofc I'm gonna write this!

'•.¸♡ Masquerade ♡¸.•'

Sigma x gn!reader

A prequel to this

Fluff

This is the music I've imagined to play but also the song from the cat returns and if this was a musical then masquerade from the phantom of the opera but this isn't a musical anyway I got too carried away with the music

You were currently standing in a ballroom surrounded by people in magnificent attire, filled with innumerable colours and styles, all cheerful and energetic. Everyone there wore a masque which was used to hide their identities, although it hid their emotions poorly as the joyfulness of the night could be heard a mile away. Many of the people were either in pairs or broken up into groups very few were alone, amongst those alone was you, it did not necessarily dispirit you, you enjoyed watching all of those people enjoy their evening swaying to the melody of the music which played softly throughout the night, the music could only be described as breathtaking, the harmony of the instruments joining together in symphony to create such beautiful music.

As you stood there you felt a soft tap on your shoulder, you turned round to see yet another stranger whose face was hidden, yet their identity was no secret to you, despite their attempts at making themselves unknown their identity was still revealed by their distinctive hair, their familiar and soft movements and their voice which was certainly no stranger to your ears. You knew exactly whom this stranger before you was, it was no one other than Sigma.

He reached out his hand 'Would you care to dance?' He asked with a heartfelt smile on his face and eyes full of joy and excitement, but this joy and excitement seemed different to the others, his excitement grew from you and only you, his feelings would not change based on the settings but based on the person he is with. You accepted his request with pleasure and so the two of you waltzed on to the centre of the floor to waltz while masquerade suite 1. Waltz played, the swinging of bodies side by side felt almost too natural as the two of you swayed, spinning and dancing energetically to the rhythm of the music.

It all felt like a dream, a dream you hoped would last forever.

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you will enjoy reading this, as always you are welcomed and encouraged to request if you have any ideas on what I should write.

I hope you are having a wonderful day/night, don't forget to take care of yourself as much as you can and get 8hrs (minimum) of sleep! Bye bye :)

#bsd #bsd x reader #bsd sigma #sigma x you #sigma x reader #sigma bsd #sigma #bungo stray dogs sigma #bungo stray dogs #sigma bungou stray dogs

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

Ash and Law Relationship 2

💛 Who is the Cuddler 💛 Both are but Ash is the cuddler, she is unaware and only person who is aware of it is those who share the bed with her. Law would wrap her up in blankets in the bed they share and hold her close when she is asleep while she clings to him. Alone those two are touch starved and will cuddle on the couch or bed, Ash humming a soft tune from the north while Law traces small circles on her back. When surrounded by people both can sense when the other needs a simple touch, a brush of a hand, or standing close to one another till in private where they let their walls down and hug one another clearing their minds from all the trouble and fears they have, then acting nothing had happened.

💛Who makes the bed 💛 Neither, Law will from time to time fix the bed but he usually gets up and leaves the bed and one of his crew usually Bepo would come and fix the bed for him for the night. Or sleeping on the couch or at his desk leaving his bed untouched. He does fix his bed with new sheets when needed. He got into a better habit of sleeping on the bed when Ash joins him in his room but still, both are bad at fixing the bed.

💛Who wakes up first 💛 Law, suffering from insomnia would usually wake up long before Ash. He will say in bed holding her in his arms taking her warmth, listening to her steading her breathing as he gets himself ready for the day. His mind running through what he had to do all the information he gathered during the day, his fingers running through Ash’s hair. Eventually, he will leave the bed and start his long day of work leaving Ash to sleep

💛Who has the weirdest taste of music 💛 I think both do. Law listen’s to mostly jazz in the background while working sometimes he will listen to an unknown band he found in his travel he claims has a unique taste. He will sometimes ask Ash her opinion on the music to better understand it. Ash's weird taste comes from basically a mix match of styles while she can listen to almost anything. She mostly listens to symphonies/orchestras. Her guilty pleasure is K-pop, mostly boy bands. She will deny her interest but she can go into small details about the boys and their interests and what the music means

💛Who is more protective 💛 Law is more protective of Ash, he finds her secret treasure he has to protect. He already lost so many loved ones in his life and wishes to protect the ones he cares deeply about. Ash doesn’t have a Devil Fruit and still learning some observation Haki and hasn’t mastered it. While she is good at fighting and handling herself (Getting in and out of trouble) there are still powerful people on the Grandline and he will only know she is safe if she joins his crew. There is also a deeper issue that Ash is more willing to self-sacrifice herself to help innocent people who cannot fight for themselves, particularly young children as they remind her of her siblings. Ash has a very twisted and broken view believing she would be forgiven if she gave up her life for someone else, for failing to protect her older sister. She is willing to throw herself in the line of fire for someone else if it calls for it. She will act like she doesn’t and will hold back as much as she can. The Heart Pirates caught on that Ash is someone that needs protection knowing their captain would want her safe, as they also grew attached to her.

💛 Who sings in the Shower 💛 I think it is obvious, Ash does. She sings old lullabies or old songs that were popular in the North Blue before she departed. Or she would hum a new tune she is composing trying to figure out the notes that she had been trying to piece together. Ash often will hum or sing to herself deep in thought.

💛Who cries during movies 💛 Probably Ash. She would cry at deep emotional scenes she can relate to or she got attached to the character who is hurt. It is the main reason why she doesn’t wear massacre when it is movie night and likes watching movies in the dark so no one can see her cry. The Heart Pirates have learned to “ignore” her tears. And Bepo or Law wrapping their arms around her, in silent comfort.

💛Who spends the most when shopping 💛 Probably Ash again, Law only shops for necessary items, occasionally he would splurge on his hoppy of coin collecting, while Ash would use shopping to get out of work or skip on her responsibility. She is irresponsible with money buying accessories she finds cute or outfits she likes. She would even spend money on new instruments she wants to learn to play only to sell on the next island as the Polar Tang wouldn’t have enough room. Once in blue moon would she buy a small souvenir from a shop that reminds her of her sibling. Or something she saw that would remind her of Law or something Law would like.

💛Who kisses more roughly 💛 Law, pent-up emotions from not touching her for a long time or holding her, he will wrap an arm around her waist and tilt her chin, so she was looking at him and capture her lips and tasting her. He would start off softly before becoming a little rough, her body curving into his. Ash will follow suit wrapping her arms around him and tangling her fingers in his hair. Both are touch starved and craving one another’s attention.

💛Who is more dominate 💛 Law is, both in the bed and out. He knows how to get Ash in control and have her listen to him and not cause as much trouble. He got better at reading the signs when she is bored or distressed, even reading the subtle hints of her emotions she will try to hide and have her open to him. In bed, Law is, Ash while not shy about sex is still inexperienced due to her failed love life. He once again learned to read her emotions in bed stopping where she is starting to feel uncomfortable.

💛Gets jealous the most 💛 Both do, Ash is a very attractive female and does catch the eyes of a few men. While most men will avoid her due to her own personality being standoffish and rude, while also pushing people away. A few men do feel brave enough to talk to her and flirt and will have Law watching carefully from the corner of his eyes for signs of Ash’s discomfort. But he will step in after a while after all he treasures Ash and being a pirate, he isn’t keen on sharing her heart or her. He will be a bit more physical with her wrapping an arm around her shoulder and ignoring the guy while talking to her or a crewmate. If the guy doesn’t get the message, will he glare at the guy scaring him off. Ash just glares and pouts at any female that approaches Law (There are a lot) but instead of fighting them off will try to rationalize with herself that Law should be with X female because she would be a better match and look better together. And remind herself Law is out of her league and isn’t interested in her. She will pout till she sees Law refusing any advances and will hide a smile in her hand, cheering the little victory. When both have shared their feelings, she will glare at the female and hold Law’s hand before quickly letting go but he will squeeze her hand gently.

💛 Other headcanon I have 💛 Law likes to hear Ash sing and is the only one that gets to hear her sing soft songs without much persuading. While Ash says she hates to sing she will sing to Law soft lullabies at night. Law also finds comfort with Ash practicing her music, he really likes her playing the violin or piano, as it helps him focus better. He has a keyboard in his office for when she wants to play the piano instead.

💛Nicknames 💛 Ash when first meeting Law and was scared of getting attached or close to him would often call Law the wrong name to distance herself from him. Also for him to understand there is a distance between them. But after it got harder to act like she didn’t know his name as they were forming a bond and got closer. She will call him “Lawrence” from time to time just to annoy him. Ash is a nickname she already goes by. Law only calls her Asherah if she is in trouble or he is worried about her. Before he would call her Ash-ya but after being corrected so many times (by her) and having grown attached to her he dropped the Ya. Both are unaware of the change only his crew and people who know Law’s speech pattern have caught on to the change.

#asherah yue #ash yue #asherah #trafalgar law one piece #one piece law #one piece trafalgar law #law #trafalgar law #law trafalgar #trafalgar law x oc

[little-annie]

All I Want | Ch8

Steddie | Little_Annie | Ao3

Ch.7 ⤵️

---

Eddie's POV

There's skin on his, soft, warm, a palm on his cheek and heat searing into his flesh.

It feels like sunshine.

-

The sun's bright. Golden. Rays of liquid honey streaming through the dust of the air.

There's weight in his lap. Steady. Rocking. Grinding. His body sings with a warmth of euphoria and need, a flicker of fire in his veins and roll of ecstasy through his bones.

Breath beats like a symphony in his ear, rough, raspy. Beautiful. Akin to an orchestra by the stars. It sings so sweet and settles in his soul.

The air's bright with light when lips meet his own. Gasps falling on his tongue and breath flooding his lungs, he can feel the cling of a hand in his hair and nails on the skin of his back. Scraping, scratching, branding like a scar to his very being.

The moment's passionate, intimate. So much so that his nerves pulse with a flutter and a heat that rolls through his veins, settling like butterflies to the rear of his lungs. A flutter that feels like wings, from the very beings that spread beauty through the world. Bringing life to flowers, bright and beautiful with the help of the sun.

A nose brushing his own when lips part for a breath, there's a palm to his cheek, soft, warm, heat searing into flesh. There's words whispered into the heat of the air between them, "You're my everything, Eds."

It feels like something else, like three words left unspoken but known to be true. Three words left to settle along with that flutter in his chest.

The light's bright, gold and glowing, speckled like the stars in the sky when he pulls back and tries to get a glimpse of the man in front of him.

-

A shiver runs down his spine and there's a flash of white in his eyes before everything fades back to reality.

He's still there. Sat on the hood of Steve Harrington's BMW with the man's hand on his cheek and the sting of a cut on his brow.

The first thing he sees is the honey of Steve's eyes and the golden glow of his speckled skin.

There's an ache in his chest, a pull in his gut and an all encompassing want. It's painful. Dreadful and riddled with a piercing sense of longing. It's unbearable.

Burning like a brand on his cheek remains Steve's hand. Hot and searing. Iron melting flesh. The need that accompanies the action is too much.

Eddie grits his teeth and turns away.

It's too much.

It's too much even as Steve whispers his apologies, takes a step back and leaves Eddie with the urge to follow. To reach his hands out and pull Steve Harrington into his chest with a crash.

A crash that would without a doubt shatter Eddie. Pulling Steve's body into his fragile bones and pushing them to splinter with the force behind it.

It's inevitable that he'd come out of it broken. Shattered to pieces of rubble and debris. Turned to nothing but a pile of wreckage.

But he wants to reach out and risk the devastation. Take the chance, the absurd, miniscule possibility that things wouldn't burst into flames upon impact. That maybe they'd flourish. That maybe they'd burst into love and light and sunshine and give way for a beauty so rare that few find it.

But he can't.

So he doesn't.

Instead he grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut until they hurt. Until all he can see are the flashes of stars against a dark shy. The vast blackness behind his eyelids shielding him from the absurdity of finding sunshine in one Steve Harrington.

Because that's all it is.

Absurd.

It's a thought that should have never had the grace to enter Eddie's mind and make a home in the cracks and crevices of his being. A thought that should have been eradicated upon first notice.

Because his want of Steve Harrington is absurd.

It's ridiculous.

It's laughable.

It's insane that even for a moment Eddie entertains it.

Because he shouldn't.

He fucking can't.

—

Steve's POV

They stand there in silence for a while. The rustle of the leaves and the quiet rasp of Eddie's breath the only sound to be heard. Steve still stings with the need and want to reach out and feel Eddie beneath his fingertips, to feel the warmth of pale skin and the scratch of stubble under his palm. But he resists.

Eddie keeps his eyes trained to the side as he whispers a 'thanks' and finds a bandaid to press to his own skin, stretching it over his brow and another over his cheek.

Against all instinct, Steve gives the man his space. Not giving into the deep seeded need to inspect Eddie's entire body for any unseen damage. He's sure it's there, it's blatantly obvious by the wince the man lets go as he slips from the car's hood to settle his feet on the ground. It's a hardly concealed thing when Eddie's knee buckles and he catches himself with a hand on the car.

Steve wants nothing more than to reach out and hold him.

But he can't.

He can't, so he distracts himself by putting the first aid kit back in the car, taking the time to suck in a grounding breath and count to three maybe a few more times than necessary.

It's only when he hears Eddie's voice that he's able to steel himself and move back to the front of the car, "I'm- uh, I'm gonna head back in… T-thanks again, for, you know, patching me up." He gestures with a ring clad hand to his face with a tight lipped smile and hunched anxious shoulders.

Looking at the man and the obvious exhaustion that's settled deep into his bones, Steve can't help but think that Eddie should go home. He should go home and lay in bed and let Steve take care of him. Let him hold an ice pack to his sore knee and let him kiss every bump, every bruise, every impending scar.

Steve shuffles uncomfortably, trying to meet Eddie's eye as he asks, "You sure you don't just wanna go home? I- I can drive you."

It's a dangerous thing to ask, mostly for the fact that Steve knows it'd hurt like hell to leave. To drive away and know Eddie's in the trailer alone, tending to his wounds without someone by his side.

Eddie shakes his head and Steve watches as a mask of nonchalance slips over his face. Once scared eyes shift to something indecipherable and finally meet Steve's, Eddie speaks, tone level and teasing, "I'll be fine Harrington. Plus, I wouldn't want to disappoint those kids of yours, now would I?"

There's something like a smirk teasing Eddie's broken lip when he turns around and heads for the school not bothering to wait for a response. Trying to disguise a limp and his anxiety that's so blatantly obvious to Steve, Eddie walks away, never once chancing a look back to the man following close behind.

Back inside, walking through the doors of the drama room, it falls silent. The chatter stops and the kids twist their heads around to look while Gareth stands with worry in his eyes as he takes in what he now knows to be an injured man before him, "Ed, man, you alright?"

Eddie continues into the room with a self-deprecating laugh, "I'll be fine Garbear. Just those fuckin' Bible Thumpin' Jocks again."

It's just an act, the humour, the carelessness, the way Eddie plasters on a smile like he hadn't just gotten the shit kicked out of him less than an hour ago. Steve wonders if anyone else notices. Notices the slightly too wide smile, the scared eyes, the way that fake grin slips the second Eddie's lips are out of sight. Notices the poorly constructed mask Eddie's been known to hide himself behind.

Gareth probably does. He's always been attentive like that and by the look of concern still creasing the man's face, Steve's sure he does.

Steve tries to not think too much about it as he settles in for the evening. Falling into the chair where he sat no less than a couple months ago, tucked away in the corner. He takes in his surroundings, the familiarity of it all. He thinks back to the first time he sat in this chair, how he was just as sceptical as anyone else, there purely for the fact to keep an eye on his kids.

He never expected to fall in love. Especially not with Eddie Munson of all people.

But he did.

He did and now he sits here watching Eddie introduce himself to the kids as if it's the first time, a genuine smile and bright eyes as he welcomes them to Hellfire with a flourish.

Gareth and the guys pretend to do the same, shaking Dustin's, Mike's and Lucas' hands, sharing smiles of their own.

Steve's thankful for them.

They weren't part of the fray lost to the vastness of Eddie's mind, but they were more than willing to help Steve and the kids reenter the man's life.

He'd grown fond of them in the last year and was glad to have them as support along the way for whatever was to come next.

Next being the very real possibility that things may never be the same as they were a couple months ago.

Next being the very real possibility that Eddie may never fully recover.

That Eddie, for all Steve knows, may never love him again.

Never hold him again.

Never call him Sweetheart or Love or Sunshine ever again.

Steve shudders a breath and tries to will away his spiral as shuffles in his chair, trying to find comfort in the loneliness he feels weighed down by. He wishes he could be sat next to Eddie. Sat next to the man he loves and longs for once again. Sat next to the man with a hand in his own and words of endearment whispered against the shell of his ear.

Watching the introductions and handshakes come to a close, Steve settles in for what feels to be a long night.

Shifting in his own chair Eddie twists with a wince to see Steve sat away from the group. His brows furrow and he looks like he's mulling something over before he speaks. Tone calm and maybe a little nervous, he invites Steve over with a crick of his neck, "Harrington, you patched me up man. I'm not gonna make you sit in the corner."

With a flutter in his chest Steve nods, flashes a tight lipped smile as pulls his chair closer to the group, choosing to sit between Dustin and Eddie.

He can allow himself this he thinks, being sat so close to the man he loves, relishing in the smell of Eddie's cologne, breathing it in like a drug, hoping it'll sustain him until the next time they see each other.

Struggling to keep his eyes elsewhere and not locked onto the man next to him, Steve snags Dustin's character sheet, the young boy squawking in protest. Holding the paper in his lap, pretending he understands anything that's written down, Steve skims the page. It's not a moment later that he feels Eddie's eyes on him.

"What?" He asks curiously, quietly, voice just above a whisper, looking to his right to find Eddie with his big beautiful eyes and rosy cheeks staring right at him.

Eddie coughs into his fist, ripping his gaze away from Steve and mutters a quiet, choked out, "Nothing."

On the other side of the table Steve watches as Eddie's friends whisper back and forth, Gareth suddenly jumping with a yelp as Eddie most likely kicks him in the shin with a hissed and not so quiet, "Shut. Up."

Their evening continues like so. Eddie's friends antagonising the poor guy over lord know what, the man himself sending Gareth what Steve knows to be a weightless death glare and the kids having the time of their life. It's in those moments that Steve watches Eddie's once plastered on and calculated grin turn into something unbridled and beautiful. Something he remembers falling in love with.

It's in those moments that Steve drinks in every ounce of Eddie Munson that he's allowed.

He thinks back to the start of everything. Their everything. To when he first brought the kids to Hellfire and sat in the corner for what felt like weeks, watching Eddie from afar, falling more and more in love with the man by the minute. The manic energy, the glimmer in his eye, the way he voiced every character and planned his campaigns out to a 'T'.

Those memories run like a reel through his mind as Eddie does much the same. Granted he's a little slower and wincing in pain every so often as he tries to act out the motions of a very boisterous bar keep that the adventurers have encountered, but he's still a beautiful thing to watch.

Again Steve finds his eyes tracing the figure before him. The animated movements, the way Eddie's lip twitches with a smile when he has something hidden up his sleeve. The rosy hue to his cheeks, the sharp look in his eye, the way, when Steve looks long enough those dark eyes meet his own.

He's sure he's staring, but at the moment he can't bring himself to care.

–

An hour and a burning vastness in his chest later, Steve watches as the guys pack up and Eddie has a quiet conversation with the kids at the door. Dustin's beaming, Lucas' eyes are wide and Mike has a greatly out of character grin spreading across his face.

Whatever it is that they're talking about, Steve's sure he'll hear about it on the way home.

It's nearly dark when they make it outside, the sky a wash of pinks and oranges, fading to black. The doors to the school crash against brick walls with a bang as Dustin flings them open with a flourish. There's chatter and laughter and Steve's heart soars with the familiarity of it all.

Through the chaos he can make out Eddie's laughter, the rasp and roll of his words as he struggles to sputter out something in reaction to whatever it was that Dustin's said.

Nostalgic is what comes to mind when warmth fills Steve's chest and he savours the sound as it meets his ears. He hasn't heard Eddie's laughter in over a month and the realisation of the fact is shattering in its own way.

Shattering much like the happiness in this moment that they've created when the sounds of a window breaking trickles into the air.

The group falls silent, halting in their tracks as they try to single out the source of the sound. Maybe it's the years of monster hunting, the trauma that it's caused, but Steve can see how the kids are on high alert, ready and waiting for the worst case scenario. Even if it was just a few weeks ago El confirmed that the Upside Down had essentially imploded, they're still on the ready for the 'what if'.

But the source proves itself soon enough as three silhouettes run out from behind Eddie's van and down the street to a parked sedan, jumping in with haste and squealing their tires on their abrupt getaway.

Anger fills his chest and he wishes he would have done something more than just stand there and watch. But maybe it was the relief that it was people and not monsters that left his feet rooted to the steps of Hawkins High.

But than a gutted whisper comes from behind him, a breathless, broken, "What the fuck?"

He turns to see Eddie, the joy that'd finally found its way to his face is gone and it's like he doesn't even have the energy to pull on a mask as he stands there in shock. Brows furrowed, eyes glassy, he doesn't move for a moment, not until Steve watches Gareth clasp his shoulder and offer a comforting squeeze.

It's a slow, cautious thing from there, Eddie making his way to the van, Gareth and the guys in tow as Steve tells the kids to get in the car with a hardly audible hiss.

The kids are quiet, concerned and the look on Dustin's face nearly breaks his heart. Steve ruffles the kid's hair, trying to offer some reassurance before he ducks into the car and Steve finds himself moving to join the four that now stand with shattered glass at their feet next to Eddie's van.

Eddie's still speechless, it's a stark comparison to how Steve knows him normally to be. Though that's not to say he hasn't seen the man in silence before; contemplative, considering, content. But Steve's never seen this. The devastation, the exhaustion. The way Eddie begins to shake and he brings clenched fists to wrap around his waist while still remaining silent.

Steve wants to say something, wants to reach out and take those tightly clasped hands in his own and soothe. He wants to be the voice of reason and reassurance. But he can't.

He can't so he looks to Gareth with pleading eyes for him to do something, say something.

The man shares a glance and Steve watches as Gareth's hand tightens on Eddie's shoulder and the eldest man chokes out a whisper of, "Gar I - I can't afford this."

In the meantime the other guys are silent, surveying the wreckage before them and slowly beginning to wander with cautious steps over broken glass and what Steve can see to be a can of spray paint on the other side of the van.

He bristles at the sight and hopes to anyone that's listening that Eddie doesn't round the driver's side to see the remaining damage. It's obvious by the look on Jeff's face that it isn't anything good.

The younger man who he's only grown to know in the last year moves to stand at his side. Eyeing Eddie to ensure he doesn't overhear, Jeff leans nearer and whispers, "Both driver side tires are slashed and they spray painted 'Murderer' across the whole side."

Steve's stomach plummets but all he's able to offer in response is a nod.

The guys don't know about all the shit that went down, but Steve knows they believed Eddie's innocence from the beginning. They're good guys and great friends to Eddie and even after profusely apologising for being a prick all throughout high-school, Steve still feels guilty when in their presence. Even after Eddie lost his memory, they still treated Steve as one of their own. Maybe they didn't check on him in the last weeks, but from Wayne, he knows they've at least asked about him. Offered their help.

Plus, he's sure at the very least that Gareth has an inkling as to what he and Eddie have been up to in the last year. He's never said anything, but Steve's sure the man knows something, if the sideways glances, eye rolls and teasing smiles are anything to go by.

After a moment Steve finally speaks, "Just, uh, don't let him see it okay?"

Jeff offers a tight lipped grimace, shares a sad glance and nods to where Eddie and Gareth are standing a few feet in front of them, "You able to take him home? I would man, but I've got the other two plus a shit ton of band gear." There's a quiet self deprecating laugh before he adds, "We hardly fit Gareth in the back."

"Y- yeah. Not a problem. I'll uh, I'll just go let the kids know."

Jeff's nods and makes his way to the guys at the same time Steve's turns to go back to the car. He can see the concern on their faces as he approaches. Upon opening the door and bending to cock his head into the cab, he's met with Dustin's immediate inquiry, "What happened?"

He contemplates lying, telling them it's nothing, but these kids have seen enough shit, something like this won't bother them too much. It's just unfortunate. "I think the same guys who beat him up trashed the van too. Broken windows, slashed tires, Jeff said there's some spray paint on the other side." He doesn't know what else to say for a moment, not until Lucas speaks up, asking, "There anything we can do to help?"

To that Steve nods, asks them to cram into the back and lets them know that they're taking Eddie home. Normally asking Dustin to vacate the passenger seat would be a fight, but he goes willingly, though be it scrambling over the seat instead of using the door.

Making his way towards the four standing near the van, Steve watches Jeff lean in and speak to Eddie, the older man looking to his friend with a confused expression and furrowed brows, but as Jeff nods and cricks his head in Steve's direction, he can't help the swell of warmth in his chest seeing the look in Eddie's eyes. There's confusion, but there's warmth and something he's yet to decipher.

"You sure Harrington?" Eddie asks, sounding just a touch breathless and all the bit exhausted.

Steve nods, looks towards the car where the kids seem to be arguing in the back seat, pushing and shoving when he's sure he hears Dustin yelp.

"Yeah Munson. Now get in before Dustin decides to commandeer the front seat and you're stuck in the back with those two."

—

They're about a mile down the road and Eddie hasn't moved an inch from where he settled with his head against the glass and his shoulders curled inward, arms wrapped around his waist, hiding his face behind a veil of dark curls.

The kids are quiet, uncharacteristically so, reduced to whispers and shared glances. Many times through the rearview mirror does Steve catch their concerned expressions sent in Eddie's direction, especially so when they quietly vacate the vehicle one by one.

Once the kids are gone and the car's even further filled with uncomfortable silence, Steve regrets his earlier decision to not bother putting in a tape when they left the school. The silence and the faint, occasional sniffle from Eddie's side of the vehicle is too much. He wants nothing more than to reach out, lay his palm on Eddie's thigh and squeeze. Just something simple, let him know that he's there if he needs him. But he can't.

He can't, so he does something that he knows at the very least will distract Eddie. Keeping his eyes on the road, Steve blindly digs through the centre console, eventually coming out with a tape in hand. With little struggle he ejects what was in the player, not bothering to look at it as he pops in his 'Tears For Fears' cassette.

Thirty seconds into the first song and Steve hears a snort come from the other man. He can't help the warmth that fills his chest at the sound.

"'Course you listen to Tears For Fears." Eddie huffs to the glass of the window, his smirk left visible through the reflection looking back at him.

Steve smiles to himself, feeling warmth in his chest, knowing at least in this moment he's making Eddie feel something other than dread.

The first song plays through and when the cassette reaches 'Head Over Heels,' Steve can't help but snicker, "Guess I'm Head Over Heels for Tears For Fears."

Eddie snorts a laugh and sits up enough to lull his head to the side to face Steve. His cheeks are rosy and his eyes are rimmed red but Steve can't help but think he's still beautiful.

They're silent for a while, a few more songs playing through while Steve obnoxiously taps his fingers to the beat trying to pull another smile out of Eddie. He's successful after a moment and it's then that Steve builds the confidence to finally ask what's been wearing on him since earlier in the evening, "Hey, um, back at the school you'd said something about 'it's just the Bible Thumping Jocks again'."

Eddie's eyes search the side of Steve's face for a moment, he can feel them settle as he continues to drive and Eddie asks cautiously, "What about it Harrington?"

"This happen to you a lot?"

There's a contemplative hum from the passenger seat and in the same instant the tape turns to silence, Eddie answers, "Nothing like the van, but yeah. Getting the shit beat out of me is a pretty regular occurrence."

Steve hums in response, it's nothing he doesn't know, when he and Eddie were together he'd been told as much, but still, he can't help but ask, "Lately?"

While Eddie worries his cheek and he chances another look at Steve, gravel begins to crunch under the tires as they turn into the trailer park. It's only when they're pulling up to the Munson home that Eddie answers, something hesitant in his tone, "Been worse since I got out of the hospital."

Steve nods, slowing the car to a stop and throwing it in park before he responds with a faint, "Sorry."

Sitting in front of the Munson trailer with Eddie quiet and at his side, Steve tries his hardest to not let his emotions get the best of him. He tries to not think of the hundreds of times he's been here before. Not the date's, not the kisses shared on the roof in the dead of night, not the times they danced in the kitchen or the umpteen unfortunate occurrences when they got caught on the couch doing the one thing Wayne explicitly asked them not to.

He tries to not think about any of it.

Especially when his chest begins to tighten and he can feel tears beginning to well.

He'd unlocked the door when they pulled up, half expecting Eddie to run for the hills upon the vehicle coming to a stop, but the man stays sat in his passenger seat, looking back at him with something akin to concern in his eyes.

And Steve can't fucking take it. He grits his teeth and tries to reign in his composure, but it damn near crumbles when Eddie so sweetly asks him what's wrong and he has to feign something that's not devastation when he answers, "Nothing ya need t' worry about Munson."

---

Ao3 link ⤵️

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom #stranger things fic rec #steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fandom #steddie fic rec #steddie fic #steddie fic wip #steddie after vecna #steddie angst #steddie hurt/comfort #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #welcome to hellfire #hellfire club #gareth emerson #jeff stranger things #freak stranger things #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair

[stargazer4501]

Stifonies Ziemuzies: “The Symphony of Silence”

Stifonies Ziemuzies, Stifonies or Stifons, is the Overlord over the Orchestra industry, specifically Symphonies, and is part of the Theatre Overlords lead by The Puppeteer.

They had a fairly calmed life, growing up in a small town and worked as animal breeders. Their favorite animals to take care of were rodents, specifically rabbits (rabbits were considered to be rodents until the early 1900s). They were born mute due to defects and malfunctions in their throat, not that they mind.

However, the Netherlands started to began to flourish with the arts, music, and sciences; bringing them an inspiration and admiration for music. Their family took them to see orchestral performances, which in return, inspired them to write their own music. Some conductors would volunteer to perform these songs, but none of them matched Stifonies’s vision.

During one of these performances, a few of the performers accidentally played their instruments too loudly and suddenly. Due to where Stifonies was sitting, they got instantly affected by this, causing them to become partially deaf in their right ear.

They were told that it’s best for their health to stay away from orchestra performances to prevent their deafness from getting worst, but they refused. Many began to turn their backs on them, due to seeing that their music as “odd” and “unconventional”. But they still continued to write and eventually performed their music themselves. However, they were a perfectionist. They would work and force their instrumentalists to practice to the point of severe exhaustion. One day several of their performers died from a stroke while performing. Soon they were left with no players to perform in their orchestra, leading them to stop performing all together.

Unfortunately, the Smallpox epidemic reach the Netherlands. They soon got infected by this epidemic and was stuck in bed for days, being comforted by the rodents they once took care of. Then in February of 1871, they died in their sleep.

After arriving in Hell, they actually found themselves at The Puppeteer’s Theater. The Puppeteer, shocked by their sudden arrival, greeted them warmly. Since they were the first to ever appear at the Theater, and watched their orchestration talent while alive, The Puppeteer saw this as fate and offered a deal to them. The Puppeteer offered to make them the 2nd in Command of the Theater, the ability to control the instrumentalist and instruments themselves, and being able to practice nonstop without the worry of exhaustion. However, in exchange, their soul is owned by the Puppeteer, having to follow their command when needed. They saw this as a second chance and was pleased with the conditions, accepted eagerly.

They were cruel to most of the souls they owned, working them nonstop, and even breaking limbs to punish them. Even with broken bones, they still make them play, either on their own or through their powers. They didn’t feel the need to get along or even socialize with the other Overlords and often ignored them, even leaving snarky “remarks” and comebacks. Not even The Puppeteer was safe from their sass.

Design

Their name “Stifonies Ziemuzies” is a combination of the Dutch words for “Silent” and Symphony”, and “Sick” and “Music”.

They’re around 8ft 2in, making making them around the same height as Angel Dust.

They have rabbit like features to represent their fondness for rabbits, and rabbits are linked to magicians who are often said to have “a few tricks up their sleeves”.

Their body is covered with small spots to represent smallpox.

They feel like fresh new paper, smooth and warm, and is able to be drawn/written on. This is to represent that they preferred to communicate through writing rather than sign language, but still know how to.

Unlike the other overlords, they only have a “shackle” around their neck, which looks like a bow tie. This is due to them being the 2nd in Command for the Theatre.

They lack a mouth, mainly to represent that they’re mute, but one can form when in their full demon form.

Here is a basic reference without the clothes and makeup:

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin original character

[italianexotiicbeauty]

'you should hate me right now.' (max :):):))

↪ 𝐹𝐼𝐿𝐿𝑂𝑅𝑌 ⅋ 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 . // ( @hadmrcy )

He's right about that ! Twice now he's cost her work – from harassing her OnlyFan subscribers to not helping her when she came to him for it and resulting in her left hand being broken along with her violin being smashed beyond repair? She sold the ring he proposed to her with to help pay off the medical bills from her hospital visit, the surgery and still some was being used to help pay for the physical therapy she was enduring. It'd still be months before she had full strength in her hand again, not to mention how long she'd need to be in therapy to try and break the glass ceiling of trauma from getting attacked like that. It's why she had to move out of the rental and was living with him, a choice she HADN'T wanted to make really but she couldn't stay in the house with the other violinists if she couldn't pay the rent. Of course, he hadn’t been too keen on her telling him she sold the ring — but she needed the money. A bulk of what savings she had before now was for the move back to New York. And there was absolutely no guarantee that once she was back to full physical strength ? There'd be an available chair for her to go back to within the American Symphony Orchestra. The only choice she was even being left with ? Was to return to being a private music teacher, but he'd have to be okay with strangers coming in and out of the house — because renting a studio out was absolutely ridiculous. 

“I do actually, which is why I sleep on the couch instead of in the bed with you.” She's learned to get comfortable with sleeping alone, and having to sleep in a position that keeps pressure off of her lower left arm because she also slept in a removable cast. Mary was already a side/stomach sleeper when they met, but now she has to sleep on her back because it wasn’t at all comfortable to wake up with your face pressed into the back of the couch. Absent-mindedly, the fingers on her right hand moved along the cast on her left and she was fiddling with the adjustable strap. “But not as much as you likely hate yourself for putting someone you claim to care about through such emotional discourse that she MIGHT not even have a job to go back to — unlike yourself that will still be able to wrestle.” Oh yeah, if he caught the venomous tone of contempt there ? She meant every single word.

“Wouldn't count on me bein’ all too eager nor willing to play any live entrance music for you either. I'll have to stay behin’ and find a job in the city or start teachin’ private music lessons like I was before movin’ here.” She muttered a little bit before getting up from her seat and made her way towards the kitchen in order to take some of her anti inflammatory medication that the doctor had suggested while her hand ( and fingers ) continued to heal.

#wque; the soundtrack of the queue ( queued post. ) #;; answered #hadmrcy #v | musicians feel the rhythm everyday ( v2 ) #as the world falls down ( mjf & the violinist — hadmrcy ) #[ LA LA LA ~ YOU'RE WELCOME. ]

[ecle-c-tic]

Strolling in the Forest, a playlist for @lady-ofmischief

I got so carried away with this one... It was easier for me to bulk this one up bc these are all songs I frequently use on my walks! I will say though, my route is a circle and has a big!!! hill in the middle so there are a few more-upbeat ones just bc I gotta keep going up a big hill! I'll put a little star beside some of the really powerful ones just in case you want to take them out :)

Otherwise, the vibes are intended to be peaceful, airy, reflective, tender, and chill. I hope you can enjoy some time with the ol' mother nature listening to this playlist 💛

I am sorry there's so much Cat Stevens/Yusuf but his 1970s albums are nature distilled <3

I split it into two parts (part I: vocals and part II: instrumental)

--

Part I

The Wind [Cat Stevens/Yusuf]

Miles from Nowhere [Cat Stevens/ Yusuf] 

Bron-Y-Aur Stomp [Led Zeppelin] 

Rubylove [Cat Stevens/Yusuf]

Tuesday’s Dead [Cat Stevens/Yusuf] 

Moonshadow [Cat Stevens/Yusuf] 

Peace Train [Cat Stevens/Yusuf] 

Morning has Broken [Cat Stevens/Yusuf] 

Funny How Love Is [Queen]

I Want Some Sun [Cat Stevens/Yusuf] 

Somebody to Love [Queen}

Silent Sunlight [Cat Stevens/Yusuf] 

I Can’t Keep It In [Cat Stevens/Yusuf] 

Doing Alright [Queen]

The Night Comes Down [Queen]

‘39 [Queen]

Bitterblue [Cat Stevens/Yusuf] 

Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me (Live from Live Aid) - [Elton John, George Michael]

Nevermore [Queen]

White Queen (As It Began) [Queen]

Skyline Pigeon - Piano Version [Elton John] 

La Japonaise [Freddie Mercury, Montserrat Caballe] 

Guide Me Home [Freddie Mercury, Montserrat Caballe] 

Seven Seas of Rhye [Queen]*

Heal the Pain [George Michael]

Dreams [Fleetwood Mac] 

Peaceful Easy Feeling [The Eagles]

Mr. Blue Sky [ELO]*

Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) [Edison Lighthouse] 

Rotten Peaches [Elton John] 

Some Days Are Diamonds, Some Days Are Stone [John Denver]

VENT’ANNI [Maneskin]

Amoreena [Elton John]*

The Game of Cards [Maddy Prior, June Tabor] 

Country Life [The Watersons] 

Part II

Don’t Stop Me Now (Instrumental) [Queen, Simon Mulligan] 

The Merry Go Round of Life [Joe Hisaishi/London Symphony Orchestra]

Emma Suite [Isobel Waller-Bridge] 

The Adventure Begins [Howard Shore] 

Dawn [Jean-Yves Thibaudet] 

My Neighbour Totoro [Joe Hisaishi/London Symphony Orchestra] 

Kiki’s Delivery Service [ Joe Hisaishi/London Symphony Orchestra] 

The Shire [Howard Shore] 

Very Old Friends [Howard Shore] 

A Very Respectable Hobbit [Howard Shore]

Many Meetings [Howard Shore] 

Silver Leaves [James Newton Howard] 

Galadriel [Bear McCreary]

Elendil and Ilsildur [Bear McCreary] 

Elrond Half-Elven [Bear McCreary]

Lighting the Beacons [Howard Shore]****

Merida’s Home [Patrick Doyle] 

In Her Heart [Patrick Doyle] 

Samwise the Brave [Howard Shore]

The Fellowship [Howard Shore/The London Symphony Orchestra] 

Concerning Hobbits [Howard Shore] 

May Nights [Tchaikovsky] 

Halloran’s Jig [Scythian]

Piano Concerto no. 2 - andante  [Shostakovich]

Spotify Link to the entire playlist here 💛

~~

return of the king ecle-c-tic celebration 🎉

hehe you’re being tagged bc of this post:

@lady-ofmischief @whatmarisays @thislookinyoureyes @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @trinikins

MARI!!! Your playlist is on it's way but I think you'd enjoy this one as well :)

#J <3 #whitequeen ofwillowgreen #lady ofmischief #my mutuals <3 #playlists #rao's playlists #rote celebration #rao's celebration #I hope you enjoy it <3

[milkybonya]

낭만 -- do you believe in romance?

🎼 "i have concluded that romance is the aftertaste of love"

🎼 an eight-part series featuring stray kids x NANGMAN by Big Naughty

[💌: Donghyun explored the meaning of 낭만, most closely translated to romance, in his album of the same name. similarly, through this series, i also want to explore the idea of 'romance' and what it is]

[inspired by @starlostseungmin and her taylor swift song x stray kids au,, it's a masterpiece <3]

Track 03...BANG CHAN_Vancouver

"when i walk on the streets of seoul at night without you, you've just woken up from your sleep"

🎼 love as: your muse, your first love, the one who leaves you behind_Vancouver

🎼 once upon a time, Chan loved you. never upon a time did you love him back. still, you single-handedly left him (broken hearted) and became the muse of his life.

Track 06...LEE KNOW_Bridal Chorus

"I wish you a very nice wedding but I can't let you go"

🎼 love as: i loved you at your worst just for you to leave me_결혼행진곡

🎼 you make the mistake of falling for a gold-digger who marries an older, richer woman and invites you to the wedding

Track 01...CHANGBIN_Romance Symphony

"Even though I'm a boy who only knows hip-hop, for you I can be anything"

🎼 love as: i love you so much that you've changed my perception of the world_낭만교향곡

🎼 Changbin falls so hard for the flute player in an orchestra that he forgets he's a hip-hop rapper

Track 05...HYUNJIN_Actor

"after all, love is just an imagination, a masterpiece made by the actors in it"

🎼 love as: are we living out a fake fantasy or is this true destiny?_Actor

🎼 you like Hwang Hyunjin... but you're not sure if you're falling for the male lead role that he acts out with you or for the real him.

Track 08...HAN_Period,

"Maybe I should at least tell your story in the lyrics"

Track 02...FELIX_Lovey Dovey

"the way you're acting like a grown man makes it hard not to smile"

🎼 love as: the butterflies you feel at the start of a relationship_Lovey Dovey

🎼 Felix is the sophomore college student your senior self has fallen head-over-heels for

Track 04...SEUNGMIN_Beyond Love

"this is clearly love. we obviously made a promise"

🎼 love as: you were so important to me that i can't define us as love_정이라고 하자

🎼 some might call your relationship with Seungmin friends to lovers, but Seungmin believes what you had and have is way past the confines of love

Track 07...I.N_Hachiko

"how could i leave you, knowing you'd come back?"

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids au #skz imagines #skz #skz scenarios #skz au #stray kids bang chan #stray kids changbin #stray kids lee know #changbin #lee know #bang chan #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids han #han jisung #stray kids felix #stray kids seungmin #seungmin #kim seungmin #stray kids i.n #i.n #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop au #big naughty #nangman #nangman x skz

[chirp-a-chirp]

Court of Darkness: Symphony

Couple: Toa X MC (MC named Carla)

Description: Toa plays a song in the music room to demonstrate his love for Carla. 100% a fluffy sweet piece since Toa gets rarely these kind of stories. The song/lyrics referenced is Cody Fry’s “I Hear a Symphony”. 

Song: Cody Fry’s “I Hear a Symphony”

YouTube Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQ50-gSAWGg

…

Toa and Carla sat on a couch in the Music room eating chocolate. Toa peered into Carla’s eyes. 

“You’ve been rather quiet. Is everything alright?” He ran his fingers through her hair, making Carla blush. 

“Y-Yes!” Carla leaned into Toa’s touch, giving a heartfelt smile. “I’m sorry. I-It’s just, this is all still a shock.”

“This?” Toa twirled a strand of Carla’s hair in his fingers. 

“You. Me. Us, I suppose.” Carla’s cheeks tinted a deeper shade of red. She lowered her eyes in her lap before continuing. “I keep expecting to wake up and find what we have is a dream.”

Toa looked thoughtfully at Carla, taking her hands in his—“What we have is no dream. It truly means something to me.” Verbal affirmation did not seem adequate enough to ally Carla’s concerns. He had given it often enough in their budding relationship. Toa released his hands from Carla’s and walked to a table with a gramophone. He searched a nearby shelf and selected a record, putting it in the gramophone. “If my words are not enough to convince you, perhaps this performance will suffice.” Toa picked up a violin, perching it between his chin and shoulder. 

A quiet voice from the gramophone began singing:

I used to hear a simple song

That was until you came along

Now in it’s place is something new

I hear it when I look at you

The song was simple yet complex, a classical tune with passionate undertones. After the first verse, a piano played a lilting solo, accompanied by Toa’s violin. The notes from Toa’s violin caressed the air and lingered as if drawn to Carla. Toa closed his eyes, his body swaying slightly in rhythm. The music transitioned into a second verse. Toa opened his eyes and stared at Carla, still playing.   

With simple songs I wanted more

Perfection is so quick to bore

You are more beautiful by far

Our flaws are who we really are

Carla sat transfixed. The song was Toa personified—elegant, refined, starkly beautiful. Carla couldn’t look away, the song a display of the love Toa felt for her. The song moved to an orchestra break, with strings and piano notes filling the room, paired with Toa’s violin in harmony. Eventually, the song swelled into the final verse, with Toa silently mouthing the words.  

I used to hear a simple song

That was until you came along

You took my broken melody

And now I hear a symphony

The piano and strings from the record crescendoed with Toa’s violin into a grandiose flourish. Suddenly, the room went quiet, except for a quiet strum of piano keys. Toa put down the violin and sang, staring intently at Carla.

And now I hear a symphony

Toa sat next to Carla, placing a hand on her cheek. “Do you understand now how I feel for you?”

“Yes. Of course.” A smile bloomed on Carla’s face as she pulled Toa in for a kiss. “Thank you, Toa.”

#court of darkness #otome mc #voltage games #voltage inc #cody fry #classical music #toa qelsum #fanfic fluff #i hear a symphony #voltage otome