and the music swells and is perfect

reasons why ‘the room where it happens’ is amazing

  • that trumpet intro
  • the banter between hamilton and burr
  • diametrically opposed…FOES
  • ‘how the sausage gets made’
  • THOMAS CLAAAAAAIIIMMMMS
  • i arranged the menu, the venue, the seating (THAT RHYME SCHEME)
  • ‘wouldn’t you like to work a little closer to home?’ ‘actually ah would’ (which is LITERALLY THE REASON THE CAPITAL MOVED)
  • my god IN GOD WE TRUST
  • click BOOM then it happened
  • ALEXANDER HAMILTON
  • SELL NEW YORK CITY DOWN THE RIVAAAARRRR
  • the sound of realization in burr’s voice when he understands hamilton’s master plan
  • when you got skin in the game you stay in the game
  • that musical reprise of ‘wait for it’ used to mock burr
  • WHAT DO YOU WANT BURR WHAT DO WANT BURR IF YOU STAND FOR NOTHING BURR WHAT’LL YOU FALL FOR
  • burr finally deciding to take action for the first time and the slow rise of confidence in his voice and the tempo swelling in the background
  • the jazz influences because Jefferson’s rubbing off on him
  • THAT BIG OLD ROOM
  • ‘hold your nose and close your eyes’
  • WE DREAM OF A BRAND NEW START
  • it’s like a disney villain song BUT HE ISN’T A VILLAIN
  • the ultimate showstopper
  • i’ve had this on loop for hours my god it’s absolutely perfect and so underrated on the soundtrack
A few of my favorite things

•peachy sunsets
•frothy coffee
•tiny plants growing in cracks of pavement
•napping with friends
•stumbling willowy fawns
•floral tea
•paint stained hands
•freckles
•late nights walking near a violent ocean
•soft dogs
•rereading a favorite book
•succulents
•walking a busy street alone
•polaroids
•long hot baths
•sleeping in
•cooking for friends
•rosewater
•laying down in a freshly washed and made bed
•eating raspberries off of fingertips
•the air after it rains
•comfortable silence
•when you make apple cider and the smell fills the house
•farmer’s market
•going in the forest at 2 am
•using a face mask
•late night trips to the store
•plushies
•fairy lights
•feeling drunk on laughter
•fresh baked bread
•chipping nail polish off of the nails
•lazy kisses
•picking clementines
•watercolors
•lighting candles
•that swelling feeling in your chest when you feel loved
•washi tape
•collaging magazine pictures
•clear blue lakes
•the dreamy summer heat
•holding hands
•melting cotton candy on your tongue
•roadtrips
•listening to the perfect song with good headphones in
•art museums
•dancing in the kitchen
•spiked lemonade
•campfires
•peach cobbler
•stargazing
•old arcades
•beach days
•bundling and drying herbs
•tiny libraries
•moss
•antique shops
•dark chocolate
•tadpoles
•sneaking off during a party to talk and kiss
•listening to friends sing and play music
•lazy breakfast
•animal crossing
•creeks
•seeing a whale breach
•boba pearls
•dueting on the piano
•online shopping
•writing on stationary
•mountain wildflowers
•taffy shops
•honey
•walking along the pier
•gel pens
•cinematography
•local farms
•sweet juicy nectarines
•the aquarium
•san francisco houses
•tandem bikes
•quiet bus rides
•kombucha
•curly hair
•sitting on the front porch in the evening
•pasta
•cute girls
•poolhopping
•picnics
•baby’s breath
•exploring
•being photographed
•thrift shopping
•making omelets
•full moons
•high waisted jeans
•ferns
•hummingbirds
•waffles
•wearing nice lingerie
•canyons and cliffs
•cramming a bunch of relatives in one house
•warm rainstorms
•getting homework finished early
•favorite belt my friend bought in austria
•greek mythology
•petting horse’s foreheads
•riding my bike through town

there are people always posting here and on twitter like ‘I still don’t *get* the carly rae jepsen hype…’ well i love her bc she writes infectious pop music usually about that exciting period when you know you have a crush on someone and you’re not yet in a relationship w them but you just feel so alive. or that anxious but exhilarating time between asking someone out and waiting for their response. she makes these effervescent and vibrant songs that embody something like a rainbow that appears as the sun peeks out after a storm. if you give yourself to her music she can make your heart swell and you shout along to her songs and dance like nobody’s watching. it’s shameless and universal and #relatable and often quirky and not pretentious at all and surprisingly deep and it’s pure fun which i think makes a lot of her music perfect or damn-near-perfect pop 

anonymous asked:

Am I the only one upset with YNWA comeback? It's been barely 4 months since WINGS came out, and they've been busy with concert preparations and now comeback preparations... Sigh, and this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if they were to part ways with Big Hit in future :-/

I’m sorry that this turned into an extremely long answer, but I felt the need to do this.

Hm, I don’t know, I can’t say I agree with you. I mean, I wouldn’t say that they aren’t overworked or anything, but how come no one has ever considered that maybe it’s the members who want this, and it isn’t the company that is forcing it unto them?

I’ve mentioned this before, but BTS was formed for their musicality in the first place, they have a different purpose in comparison to other idols. Most if not all the members focus a lot on the music part of their career, so I find that it’s only normal that they would want to constantly come out with new music, which explains all the active comebacks they have despite the short breaks between comebacks. Same goes for concerts/tours that they do; if you’re someone who wants to make music, you want to connect with people through music, naturally you’d want to be able to perform and showcase this music, no?

And regarding BigHit, I think people don’t give them enough credit, honestly. Yeah, they lack in certain areas, but which entertainment company out there can you call perfect? If anything, BigHit has done swell when it comes to the management of the boys.

Before I talk about the good in BigHit, I am aware about their problems as a company. They constantly come up with new content to sell to the fans for extra profit, and they never really give fans much time to prepare themselves for a new comeback/release of new content. When it comes to the members themselves, I’m sure they have their own complains towards the company. Take Suga, the one who has been the most vocal about his complaints, as an example. At the start of BTS’ career, he talked about how he was conned into learning how to dance and becoming an idol, when all along he thought and was promised that all he needed to do was write music and rap. He was expecting to become a group like 1TYM, not a group known for their knife-like choreography. Watch the evidence here, it starts at 19:00. But over the years, I think Yoongi doesn’t feel against it anymore, because BTS is recognized for their dance and has been rewarded a ton of awards for best dance. Then fast forward after countless of comebacks with multiple hair colours, Yoongi has seriously damaged scalp and over bleached hair. He said he was going to sue BigHit for hair loss, and even though most took it as a joke, he didn’t only talk about it once, he said it twice. If anything, Yoongi isn’t really someone to say things he doesn’t mean. He’s a straightforward type guy, and he probably really feels dissatisfied towards the company for constantly bleaching his hair. The first time he talked about it was here (5:19 mark), and the second time, here (2:22 mark). He also talked about how people who dye their hair constantly suffer at the Gaon Charts Yinyuetai interview earlier this year. The era where they were most overworked was probably during their RUN days, and Yoongi talked about this too. It’s in this video, at the 5:09 mark as well as the 10:59 mark onwards. They haven’t slept more than 3 hours, they have back to back schedules, etc.

Now, with all that aside, I am aware of the vices of BigHit, but back to my point - BigHit has done swell when it comes to the management of the boys. 

There are a few aspects when it comes to this. We can talk about the efforts BigHit makes in ensuring that they are able to keep their artistes satisfied. One classic example would be Yoongi. I just talked about how he’s complained throughout the RUN era about his hair and scalp, and what did BigHit do for the Blood, Sweat and Tears era?

The fact that BigHit gave Jin and V the opportunity to sing bangtan’s first ever OST instead of the other members would be another classic example. BigHit could’ve given the duet to Jungkook and Jimin easily, considering they are the main and lead vocals respectively, but they gave it to Seokjin and Taehyung instead. Okay, you can argue and say it’s natural that Taehyung got it since he’s the one acting in the show, but how about Jin? Watch this, from the 28:00 mark. You can tell Seokjin really wanted a chance to sing an OST, and BigHit indeed gave him one, which he’s so grateful for.

Back to Yoongi again (he seems to be surfacing a lot today), as well as Rap Monster this time, and in due time, J-Hope. The former two have always been extremely passionate in their music, and there’s a lot of areas they cannot explore as rappers/musicians when it comes to working as a team, because they have to ensure that the song fits 7 members, that the song is something worth putting on an album, etc. It limits them a lot, so what did BigHit do? BigHit opened a SoundCloud account for them where they can freely post up their own tracks and random raps and even song covers when it comes to vocal line, and they’ve never limited what bangtan do/post on the SoundCloud account. In fact, BigHit even fully funded Yoongi and Namjoon’s mixtapes despite not being able to make any profit from doing so. They provided a set, cameras, make up and stylists, everything necessary to produce an MV, just so that they are able to come up with their own mixtapes for them to showcase the stories that they were unable to tell through BTS.

Even when it comes to schedules, BigHit never makes the members do things they don’t want to. Remember in Yoongi’s track, ‘The Last’?

Show me the money, it’s not that I couldn’t but I didn’t shit

Also, realize that Yoongi is the only member that has never tried emceeing yet? Yoongi is the only member who has yet to have his own solo appearance in any one variety show/schedule, and if you ask me, I really think it’s because Yoongi never intended to live the idol life in the first place. He just wants to make music, not go on shows for more exposure or anything. But BigHit never once forced him to doing any, doesn’t that say a lot?

Enough with keeping their artistes satisfied, let’s move on to the care factor the company has. In any other company, their idols are all overworked to the point of fainting/working despite injuries or health issues, etc. But what has BigHit done every time any one member is injured? Here’s a compact list of the more prominent occurrences.

  • 28th Dec 2013 - Yoongi was diagnosed with appendicitis, BigHit withdrew him from year end schedules.
  • 27th Dec 2015 - BigHit cancelled 2 concerts in Japan for the sake of Yoongi and Taehyung.
  • 30th Dec 2015 - Namjoon was withdrawn from year end schedules because of his leg injury.
  • 24th July 2016 - BigHit chose to let Namjoon rest despite the hospital giving him the green light to resume schedules because there was nothing seriously wrong with his health.
  • 30th Sept 2016 - BigHit withdrew Namjoon from the 2016 K-Pop World Festival performance as well as the Busan One Asia Festival performance so that his leg will not result in injury. It was a preventive measure on their end.
  • 22nd Dec 2016 - BigHit withdrew Yoongi from all further activities so that he can rest, when it was a ear injury which technically isn’t a very big deal.

BigHit could’ve easily made the members continue to promote and perform, because in most cases, it wasn’t really anything serious, but yet, they chose to make them rest instead. Other companies wouldn’t have done that unless the member has a leg injury or is bed ridden.

BigHit has also been very protective of their artistes. It’s very important that a company addresses issues early in order to protect their artistes, and it’s even more important that the company is willing to come to the rescue of their artistes when the need arises. There’s this, and there’s this too. There was also this too.

Another thing would be how BigHit doesn’t limit the boys in any way at all. Even as trainees, the boys were given handphones and allowed to communicate with the outside world through logs and Twitter, unlike every other idol trainee out there who practically lives in a dungeon. There was never dating bans in their contracts (evidence here) and they were never told to behave a certain way nor were they put under extremely strict diets. When they dieted, it was mostly out of their own will rather than their company wanting them to be slim or whatever.

In lyrics, they were never told to not talk about a certain topic, and in fact, they are now known for always attacking real world topics and issues. They aren’t the first group to do so, but it still definitely sets them apart from boring old romance lyrics in present day kpop.

And the most important thing of all…

And then there was Jin who talked about missing the managers,

I mean, if you don’t enjoy the time you spend with the company I don’t think you’d talk about missing them. You can tell they are grateful to these people who care for them no matter what. Remember how they all hugged their managers (not one, all) when they won the daesang?

Look at the managers looking so happy for them. The one in green striped shirt was hugging Jungkook and there’s Namjoon hugging the other manager on the right.

I don’t know about you, and although I wouldn’t say that they have a family bond with the staff, but you can tell they all really love each other and there’s definitely some form of a bond between them. Not just with the managers, but even with the producers who have worked hard behind the scenes for the boys. Look at this video, Mr Son and the staff who were with him were literally so elated for BTS’ first win. And then there was this, where Slow Rabbit (Big Hit producer) cried when bangtan got Artist of the Year at MAMA. Then there’s Pdogg (Big Hit producer, aka the man behind BTS’ title tracks) who was constantly supportive of the boys in his tweets here and here.

I can understand the heart of those ARMYs who are constantly upset with BigHit because they are worried about the members’ health in general, but sometimes we have to look at things from different perspectives. In my opinion, bangtan is happy under their management, and when they have complaints, Bang PD is willing to talk it out with them. I mean, he’s clearly close to the boys, to the point where he’s alright with joking around with them all the time. If he wasn’t we wouldn’t be blessed with things like this:

Even when renewal of contracts becomes an issue, I feel like he’d try to meet the needs of the members and he’d want to continue housing all 7 of them. BTS is the first group he’s ever produced. GLAM and 8Eight were collaborations with Source Music, HOMME, 2AM, and everyone else were transferred under him, so BTS would mean more to him than anything else. He single-handedly made them, so I don’t know. I don’t feel you on this.

It’s the season 6A finale, and Stiles is found, he’s remembered, he gets his hugs in with his friends and his dad, and one of the last scenes is this: Stiles goes to his dad and tells him he’s graduating early, that he was done after the first semester of senior year anyway, and had only stayed to be with his friends until the last possible minute, but…after all this, after being taken and forgotten, it was the last straw, and it’s just too much for him.

He needs to get away now. So he does, and he tells his dad that he’ll be at Berkley on the first day in September. But he has to get away for awhile, get some peace from all the insane shit he’s been through the past two years.

So the last scene is Stiles in his jeep, filled with suitcases, when his phone goes off. He answers it with a big, goofy smile - a smile we haven’t seen on Stiles’ face in a very long time.

And he says “hey, Derek.” 

A pause, and then, “yeah, I’m on my way…I’ll be there.”

Another pause and then, “I’ve missed you, too.” 

Another smile, this time soft and heart-eyed, and then he says bye, and hangs up, and the music swells as the camera pans away from the car, and the last shot is the jeep driving past the “Now Leaving Beacon Hills” sign. 

Fade to black.

Gravity

(Okieriete Onaodowan x Reader)

Word Count: 6033

Request/Summary: No request! (again…). Based off of Ed Sheeran’s Happier

Warnings: Brief diet smut, drinking because of emotional pain, way too many Dirty Dancing references (may or may not have been watching it while writing…)  angst, cussing.

Tagging: @satans-little-midgets @imagineham (extra special thanks to Steph for helping me with the title) @gwynstacee  @bleepblopbloop56 aaannnddd thanks to @hamilton-noodles most of this fic exists, so thanks, Jo.

A/N- SOEXCITEDFORYOUGUYSTOREADTHISOHMYGODAHHHPLEASEFEEDBACKTHANKS

Side note- Italics is the past, regular is the present. The present is organized linearly and the past is ambiguous to any specific order.


“Good morning.” Oak’s voice crackled as if he was speaking to you through a phone somewhere with bad reception, still coarse from his full night of sleep. You smiled. You couldn’t be mad at him for waking you up. You couldn’t be mad when he whispered in your ear like that. When you were encased in those big arms of his. When it was just cold enough in the room for you to want to stay close to him and under the mess of covers.

“Good morning.” You muttered back. You didn’t want to leave this moment behind. Not when he had his body wrapped around you, his breath against your skin, the room smelling just slightly of coffee, the covers soft against your skin, not when you were feeling like you were sinking into the mattress more and more with every passing second. You rolled over in his arms, your fingers finding the smooth polyester fabric of his navy colored t-shirt. You fiddled with the hem of his sleeve.

“I don’t want to get out of bed.” You told him, inhaling the scent of his chest- lavender, just like the soap bar you kept in the shower… for yourself.

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Deeper in Love || Jack Maynard Imagine

I take a deep breath and smooth down the non-excitant wrinkles in my suit.

“Mate take a breath if you faint before you say ‘i do’ ill kill you,” Conor say into my ear slapping his hand on my back.

“I’m fine, I’m just nervous, like what if she backs out?” I ask nerves taking over my mind.

“Jack, were stood at the alter just waiting for Y/N to be ready to walk down the aisle, she’s not backing out,” Conor say hand still on my shoulder, I take a deep breath and compose myself. I hear the music start and the doors at the end of the church opening. My eyes make their way from my feet to the gorgeous girl walking down between the rows of our families. Memories of our lives together flashing through my mind. Tears well up in my eyes. She’s wearing a beautiful long white dress, her hair and makeup done to perfection. My chest swells with pride that after today she will be mine forever more.

“She looks gorgeous mate,” I vaguely hear Conor say. My thoughts are clouded with thoughts of her and my love for her.

My eyes are locked on her words silently spoken between us. When she finally stops in front of me, I look towards the man that I am taking her off. I hold my hand out for him to shake but instead he hugs me, “Thank you for taking care of my daughter.” He says simply I pull away from him and offer him a nervous smile. He kisses Y/N’s cheek and takes his seat in the front row next to her mother.

“Hi,” She says softly.

“Hi,” I wink.

“Jack Maynard and Y/F/N L/N, today you are surrounded by your friends and family, all of whom have gathered here today to witness your marriage and to share in the joy of this special occasion. Today, as you join yourselves in marriage, there is a vast and unknown future stretching out before you,” I grin over at Y/N, “The possibilities and potentials of your married life are great, and now falls upon your shoulders the task of choosing your values and making real your dreams. Through your commitment to each other, may you grow and nurture a love that makes both of you better people, a love that continues to give you great joy, and also a passion for living that provides you with energy and patience to face the responsibilities of life.”

My smile only widens, “Jack has decided that he wants to surprise his gorgeous partner with his own vows.” The priest says.

“So somehow I’ve managed to write and memorize my vows without you knowing,” I laugh.

“That’s not fair,”

“You are the one girl, I’ve ever taken home to meet my parents, even though at first we were sixteen and just friends I knew that something more would blossom from it,” I watch as tears appear in my gorgeous finance’s eyes, “I once asked you 'How would you feel if I told you that I loved you ?’ I knew at sixteen that it was just something that I wanted to do.”

I inhale softly, “I’m taking my time, spending life, falling deeper in love with you. One of my favorite memories of us is the story of our first kiss, I know how cute am I?” I ask making her laugh, “We were sitting on Mikey’s roof, after a party, I had my arms wrapped tightly around you, we were watching the sun replace the moon, and you asked me, 'Are you going to kiss me or do I have to kiss you?’ so I leaned in and kissed you and every single day since then I have made sure to place my lips on yours.”

Tears fall from her eyes, “Oh I wish that I could kiss you right now,” she says exasperatedly. Making our friends and family laugh.

“Jack and Y/N, the time has come to forget all the stress of planning this day and simply enjoy your friends and family who have gathered to spend this day with you. This group of loved ones will, likely, never be together in the same place again. Through quiet reflection and nostalgia, think about how each person has touched your life and why they are here with you today.”

“Do you Jack choose Y/N to be your partner in life, to support and respect her in her successes and as well her failures, to care for her in sickness and in health, to nurture her, and to grow with her throughout the seasons of your life together?”

“I do,” I smile tears gathering in my eyes.

“Do you Y/N choose Jack to be your partner in life, to support and respect him in his successes and as well his failures, to care for him in sickness and in health, to nurture him, and to grow with him throughout the seasons of your life together?”

“I do,” She says eyes locked with mine.

“Now for the rings,” The priest says, “Jack and Y/N have practiced and hopefully memorized the words to say here.” We laugh and nod our heads.

“I give you this ring as a visible and constant symbol of my promise to be with you, for as long as I live,” I say placing a simple gold band on her fourth finger, she’s almost a Maynard.

“I give you this ring as a visible and constant symbol of my promise to be with you, for as long as I live.” She says placing an identical band on my finger.

“Jack?” The priest says catching my attention, “You may now kiss your bride.” I grin widely to all of our friends and family. Before placing my lips on Y/N’s, I dip her slightly the cheers of our friends and family falling silent on my ears all of my focus on the gorgeous girl who is now my wife.

Fleeting Moments

Characters/Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count: 900

Warnings: No warnings, just fluff!

Summary: Dean plans a romantic Valentine’s Day dinner for the reader.

Author’s Note: Okay, this one was supposed to be an Imagine but I got carried away (as usual) and now it’s just a cute one shot for Valentine’s Day! I hope you guys like it :) Feedback is appreciated!

If you would like to read any of my other fics please check out my Masterlist!

*Gif is not mine, all gifs used on my blog are from Google Images.*

     Dean’s rough hands brushed your cheeks as you stumbled forward on your seldom used heels, your boyfriend’s strong presence behind you the only assurance you needed that you would stay upright with your most relied upon sense snuffed out.

     “Okay, almost there,” Dean said beside your ear. “Keep your eyes shut.”

     His hands fell away from your face and found their way to your waist, lifting you off your feet and setting you down at – you could only assume – the bottom of the kitchen’s tiny set of stairs.

     “And …” Dean guided you forward and into the room. “Now.”

     Your mouth fell open and your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t believe what you were looking at.

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I don’t care if some people are saying it’s “too soon” for Magnus and Alec to say “I love you” to each other. That scene was perfect from the dramatic, swelling music to Harry and Matt’s performances to the cinematography. I love it so much and really who is anyone to define when something should be said or done in a relationship? Every couple is different and has their own pace and I doubt anyone on here has really been in a high intensity situation such that Magnus and Alec were placed in.

If Music Be The Food Of Love

I’ve never written anything before, so be gentle with me! But I was thinking about Outlander and the little things that make up our lives everyday that Claire (or myself) would miss when she fell through the stones. For me, I think the thing I would miss most is music. :) I think this little moment takes place just before Jamie and Claire leave Lallybroch in Dragonfly in Amber to go visit Lord Lovat. Read, enjoy, give me some feedback!

@bonnie-wee-swordsman, @writtenthroughtime, @lenny9987, @gotham-ruaidh, @takemeawaytocamelot, @westerhos, @dingbatland would love if you would read! If you like it, reblog? :)


The bright lights blinded Claire to all but the first rows of onlooking audience members. She stood tall and took a deep, calming breath. The conductor raised his arms, and as one they began. She felt herself dissolve into the choir, as though they shared one mind for the space of the song. She could feel the deep, rumbling tones of the bass line, accompanied by the light, fluttering notes from the soprano section. And in the center of the intonations, she found the place where she belonged, where she fit perfectly.

The harmony line danced around the melody, jumping to meet it and then darting away. She knew this song well, had sung it a hundred times in rehearsal. While she sang, she lost herself in the rolling waves of music. She couldn’t tell where her voice ended and the rest of the choir began. As the song swelled into a crescendo around her, she felt whole. She could feel the song gently caress her, wrap it’s arms around her as though it were a physical being, holding her tight and safe.  

She awoke with the strains of the song just outside of her conscious hearing. If she concentrated she could almost feel the perfect locking in of the last chord. A chord that was not only pleasing to the ear, but somehow made the heart feel whole. The dancing lines of melody and harmony, dipping and weaving together in a constant exchange. An expression of emotion so much stronger than mere words or actions. But now she couldn’t recall the flowing melody that flitted around the edges of her brain. She couldn’t share the simple song that was pulsing through her veins. The knowledge of that nearly crushed her. Left her lonelier for her own time than she had been in a long, long time.

Why hadn’t she paid attention more to the small details that comprised her life before? How could she have taken for granted the simplicity of written music? She could never reproduce the notes and chords of the compositions she longed to hear, that had not even been written yet. And even if she could somehow replicate those songs, how would she play them? She had no piano, no instrument other than her own singular voice. There was a good chance she would never again hear the perfection of a chord that holds your soul and then releases it just as quickly.

She closed her eyes and let the waves of bitter longing wash over her. She would allow herself this small moment of remembrance for her time before coming back to reality. Reaching over, she felt Jamie, warm and strong, lying beside her. She could live with the lost memories of music so long she had him beside her.

Claire’s touch on his arm woke Jamie. He looked over at his wife, a sleepy smile on his face. He reached over, caressing her face with his large, callous hands.

“What are ye thinkin’ about, mo nighean donn? Ye have that far off look in yer eyes. Where are ye?” Claire looked down, not wanting to meeting his eyes. She sat up in their bed, stretching the sleepiness from her limbs.

“It was just a dream, from before. It’s nothing important.” Sitting up with her, Jamie stroked her back. She leaned into his touch, wanting the comfort of something familiar and solid.

“Sassenach, every thought ye have is important to me.” He turned to hold her chin in his hands, forcing her eyes to look at him. “Please, tell me what’s causing that troublin’ look in yer eyes. Let me help ye.”

Claire looked deep into her husband’s slanted blue eyes. Telling him would not bring back the music she dreamt of. And even if it did, Jamie could not hear the music she wanted to share with him so much. He could understand the fact that there was music playing, but he couldn’t make sense of the sounds. The only music Jamie could hear at all was the rhythmic beating of a drum. But still, Jamie understood the words and meaning of the music, even if he could not make sense of the scales that were being played.

Jamie’s hand moved from her cheek down to hold her hand between his, comfort flowing from his touch. Her eyes followed the motion, looking at her hand in his.

“It’s silly really. Just a dream.” She paused, wondering if that was enough of an explanation. Jamie held her gaze, waiting for her to continue. Claire took a deep breath, going on.

“I was dreaming about music. I was on stage, singing with the choral group I was a part of, back in my time. We were performing a song we had sung a million times in rehearsal, a song that I loved. The dream was so real, I could feel the music, could feel the resonance in my chest. It was perfect. I woke up, and I couldn’t remember how the song went. I’m thinking about it now, and I still can’t recall it.” She was getting worked up, and a single tear slid down her cheek as she said “And I can’t ask anyone to help me think of it, because the song hasn’t been written yet here in this time. And even if I could figure out the name of the song, how could I replicate it? I’m just me, how could I replicate harmony?”

She kept her gaze down, feeling silly that she was so emotional about something that was so selfish. What could music do to help stop Bonnie Prince Charlie and the disaster that would be Culloden? Jamie brought one hand up to wipe away the tears that now spilled freely from her eyes.

“Sassenach, I’d no idea -” Claire gently pulled her hand away from him, struggling to untangle herself from the sheets as she rose from the bed. She didn’t want to cry in front of him, feeling selfish about wanting something that was so clearly not a necessity. They were here in Lallybroch, getting ready to march with the soldiers, and all she could think about was wanting to hear a song.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure why I am crying over something so simple.” She walked out of their room quickly, going outside to feel the crisp morning air on her skin and to avoid any more questions.  

Jamie watched her go. He ached to fill that void for her. She had given up so much for him, and never once complained. Claire truly was an amazing woman. He wanted to give her a fraction of what she had given him: love, support, and comfort. He would give her anything, as he had vowed those years ago at their wedding ceremony. Yet music…the one thing he could not physically bring to her himself. He cursed the day he had been struck in the head, knocking the ability to hear and understand music out of his head.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. He may not be able to recreate the sounds she remembered, but he could give her something else. He dressed quickly in his plaid, pulled on his boots, and raced to the stables to get a horse. As he rode, he made a list in his head of the houses he needed to visit, hoping everything would fall into place by evening.

——————————————————————————————

Claire stayed outside most of the day, keeping her distance from the other residence of Lallybroch. She didn’t want her melancholy mood to rub off onto anyone else. She worked in the garden, collecting herbs and plants that she would need to treat the ailments of the soldiers as they traveled. As she worked, she hummed a simple children’s song to herself. It bothered her that she couldn’t hum the song from her dream. Why was she still thinking about music and songs in a time like this?

Looking up, Claire saw Jamie striding towards her. The setting sun cast his hair in a shade of deep auburn, with tinges of gold and copper sprinkled throughout. Claire smiled as arrived at her side and held his hand out for her.

“Ye’ve been working mighty hard out here today Sassenach. It’s time for supper, no?”

“I suppose you’re right. I am rather hungry.”

Leading her towards the house on his arm, Jamie seemed to have an excited energy about him. Usually, he was calm and collected, especially here at his home in Lallybroch. Claire wondered what he could have been up to all day. Maybe he had been working on plans to move his men to Lord Lovat’s land with Murtaugh.

As they rounded the final turn from the garden to Lallybroch, Claire came to a complete stop. Standing on the steps of the house were a dozen men in formation, all dressed in full Highland Scots regalia. Each man held a bagpipe in his arms waiting to play. Leading her forward, Jamie gave the men a signal, and they began to play.

(Play song here and continue reading for the full effect!)

Claire felt as though she were floating forward towards to music, the familiar tune of Amazing Grace pulling her closer. As she got close enough to see the faces of the men, she noticed she recognized them. These were the men Jamie would be traveling with to Lord Lovat’s lands. As her gaze drifted to the men on the end, she was surprised to see Murtaugh standing with the men, bagpipe in hand, playing with all the gusto he could muster.

She didn’t realize she was crying until Jamie handed her his handkerchief, wrapping his arms around her from behind and settling his head in the crook of her neck and slowly rocking her back and forth. Claire closed her eyes, letting the song become burned into her memory. When the song finally came to an end, she applauded loudly, and went up to each of the men to thank them.

As the men began to walk back towards their homes, Jamie shook each of their hands in thanks. As Murtaugh passed her, Claire gave him the warmest embrace she had ever given the man. She never imaged that Murtaugh could play the bagpipes, let alone play them so well. When all the men had all left, Claire turned to Jamie, embracing him as tightly as she could.

“Jamie, I can’t believe you put this together for me.” She said into his chest.

“Sassenach,” he said, pulling away to look down into her eyes. “Yer heart is my heart. Whatever it is ye want, if it is in my power to give it to ye, I’ll see it done.” He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her lips. “Now, shall we see about that supper?”

She smiled, placed her hand in his arm, and together they walked into the house.




P.S. - I know the song not historically accurate and wouldn’t technically be written until 1779, but it felt right here. :)

The Rest

A/N: This is my first fic for the 2017 Louden Swain SPN Mini Bang, and is actually for one of the Station Breaks songs. God, I love this song. If you haven’t heard the album, GET IT. It’s PHENOMENAL. Anyway, special thanks to the best betas a girl could ask for, both of whom challenge me and make me better, @littlegreenplasticsoldier and @manawhaat

Summary: It’s all about what you give away and what you keep for yourself.

Pairing: None.

Warnings: Angst.

Word count: 2740 words

Originally posted by mostly10

She stared at herself in the mirror, taking in the miles of white beaded satin while sounds of her best girlfriends decorating the sanctuary of the church drifted in through the door. Everything was perfect. The dress complimented her figure and showed just enough skin to not be too much. Every one of her closest friends had been able to come to help her organize the million and one details that had to be nailed down before the big day came tomorrow.

Her fiancé was perfect. He’d gone to every cake tasting, made suggestions about songs for their first dance, and wrangled his groomsmen like he’d been a cattle rancher in a former life. Her mother had completed the seating chart and paid the deposits on everything, and her father had laughed at them both as they debated whether Aunt Elizabeth should sit near Uncle Seamus or if it might spark a food fight. Everything was as she had dreamed it would be the first time she’d wondered what her wedding day might be like.

Except, instead of smiling, she was staring blankly at her reflection, wondering why she wasn’t happy.

She should be crying tears of joy or giggling uncontrollably or just too giddy with happy excitement to speak, but none of that was happening. She wasn’t sad or nervous, not worried, anxious, or even depressed.

She was nothing.

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youtube

OKAY I JUST NOTICED SOMETHING WONDERFUL ABOUT THIS PART OF THE SOUNDTRACK

I’m a huge OST fan when it comes to movies, and I love trying to match the movie moments up with the soundtracks after I’ve seen the movies.  Plus they inspire me and help me in my own original stories.

And since I’ve become such a fan of the pure and truly beautiful love between Madame de Garderobe and Maestro Cadenza, I’ve unconsciously hard-wired my brain to recognize a harpsichord anywhere, especially in the soundtrack.  So.  On to my point.

This is the part in the movie where Garderobe dresses Belle up in that outrageous pink…thing.  Nevertheless, it’s her moment to shine, the moment that she’s introduced to us in her cursed form.  And there is a version of the Aria in this, a call-back to that night, when everyone was dressed in the fancy dresses–hence, the fancy dress for Belle.

But what really made my heart flutter a bit was what happens around 0:30.  The music swells, and a harpsichord begins to play.

I’ve noticed that every other time a harpsichord makes an appearance in the soundtrack, it’s always coming from Cadenza (either he’s playing or he’s present on-screen).

Save for this scene.  He’s nowhere near them at this moment; probably still in the ballroom playing something else.  I think that symbolizes that she just can’t truly be herself without him; he needs to be present for her to fully be the person she is.

And I can’t take it.  They’re too perfect.  Help.

Baby Blues

I’d always wanted children ever since I was a little girl. I loved the many baby dolls I was gifted, gave each and every single one a name and treated them with the utmost care like they were well and truly alive. My mother and even my friends told me I’d make a wonderful mom someday. I delighted at those words and couldn’t wait to become a mom myself so you can imagine how happy I was when I got married and six months later found out I was pregnant.

I was so excited to welcome my baby into the world. Perhaps I was a little too excited because I ended up decorating the entire nursery so quickly after finding out that I was a little sad I had nothing more to do with it and was still so far from my due date. That was alright though, I still spent a lot of time in there, reading the baby books to my child and playing music for him or her.

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Obikin Ficlet: Exotic Dancer AU

Based on @darthvders excellent AU idea, which I could not get out of my head! Thank you for sharing, and hope you like it!

“ Exotic dancer!Anakin giving a private dance to sith lord!imperial general!Obi-Wan and they haven’t seen each other in 6 months. They missed each other and Obi-Wan just wants to touch Anakin but Anakin won’t let him. ”

The opulent room lies in darkness, its elaborate decor lost in shadow. The tall, narrow windows reveal only the faintest washes of light staining the hem of the night sky outside and the rare sight of stars, the room and the tower it sits in high above most other buildings in this particular Coruscanti district.

“Sky-side,” some who come to Coruscant whisper when they fantasize about success, a good life won by hard work and luck, but even the most optimistic dreamers never dare to imagine living star-side.

Only a rare few will ever know that refined of a life.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi general, would never have known it. He would have died of a blaster bolt to the back in some barren wilderness when Order 66 swept across the galaxy. Another idealist face down in the dirt, struck down by the reality the Jedi Order had never been ready to face, he tells himself.

But Obi-Wan Kenobi, the secret Sith and now Imperial general, has earned his place among the stars. He has served his master well, and his master has given him everything he’d promised: freedom, wealth, the chance to finally realize his potential and vengeance for the Order that had never chosen to see it.

Now, as he sits in the true darkness of this opulent space, a proud shadow in grey and black, he smiles as the first faint strains of an old Akitan stringed instrument whisper to life. Normally he would enjoy every note, think about the rich culture and nuances of this music as other rhythms slide in alongside the first. But on this particular night he has come to this high-end club and this private room for one thing and one thing only.

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anonymous asked:

Hmm, how about a scenario with Chuuya being with a s/o that's from a high class family and is forced into a political arranged marriage? Thank you~

i had way too much fun with this one hahaha I was busy screaming about this late at night because I hadn’t realized how much I needed this lmao


The champagne flute in your hand is cold, and despite the warmth of the room, your fingers remain icy as well. There is a hushed buzz that washes over you every now and then, party guests stealing glances at you. Nobody really moves, so late into the night and all the social groups drawing together to gossip, and from your position at the far corner, you can see everything. Once, you had been a part of their little circles, flitting between them and playing the role of the ever-loving hostess and daughter of one of the most influential politicians in the country. Once, you shared shallow jokes and pointless pleasantries, kept your eye out for potential relations you could use to help your family climb the social ladder.

But now, as you down the drink in your hand in one graceful motion, you note with a strange satisfaction that you are not one of them anymore.

Already you can hear the wave of whispers breaking out across the hall at your unladylike actions. The flute hanging between your fingers, you lean your head against the wall and turn your gaze away, uncaring of the words.

The air is stuffy, the atmosphere stifling, and you wish desperately for an escape. It had taken you less than three months to feel this way about the parties your family threw after you met him - somehow, only those, perhaps because as your eighteenth birthday draws closer you knew that any semblance of freedom you had would disappear. When you were younger, you hadn’t minded what marriage meant. To you, your parents had made sure to paint it as a wondrous thing in life, when you would be paired with the one person you loved most for the rest of your time.

You told him about it when you were fifteen, your palm resting in his as he guided you through the simple steps of the dance.

“Marriage,” you said, voice barely audible over the swell of the music, “shouldn’t be a prison. It’s a choice that you should never look back on and regret.”

You had not known him well, three years ago, when he was eighteen and only another face in one of your father’s parties. Already you had learned a method of charm, to perfect seemingly heartfelt words so you could string along as many suitors as you could, just so you could pick from them later. You had thought he was another politician’s son, another boy to flirt with.

“Careful,” he warned, the waltz drawing to a close. Pulling away, movements ever so fluid, he tipped his hat to you as he bowed. “Thinking like that is dangerous for someone in your position.”

The smile that spread across his face was breathtakingly beautiful, full of elegance and polite acknowledgement, and despite the distance in it your heart stumbled. Straightening, he took a bold step forwards, closer than anyone else had been that night, and his lips brushed your hair as he whispered, “I’ll see you around, [Surname] [Name].”

You had not known who he was until the next day, your mother cornering you like she always did to demand the people who struck your fancy.

“Only one?” she had asked. Her eyebrow rose - pencilled perfectly, she was the image of the person you had once dreamed to become. She was the representation of the life you thought you wanted to lead, until he showed you another way.

“The redhead,” you answered. “The redhead with blue eyes and a hat.”

Back then, you had not understood why her skin paled, why your father forbad any interactions with that boy, why you found him one day promising you an adventure you would never forget.

“I don’t know you,” you had protested. “I’m not going out at night behind my parents’ backs with someone like you.”

They had warned you, drilled it into your head that this boy was dangerous, burned it into your memory so there was no way you could possibly let it slip. And you, the one who always listened to your parents, had no intention of disobeying. The mere thought of going against their words unnerved you. It was wrong and unnatural and -

“Someone like me?” he asked, his head cocked and lips curling up into a grin so different than the smile he left you with. It was all edges and promises of another world you had not stepped into yet. “What does that mean?”

“You’re bad news,” you recited, gaze locking with his, that intense stare that seemed to bore a hole into your soul. “You are a player who is only interested because I am forbidden to have anything to do with you. You are the mafia.”

Slowly, he blinked. The grin fades from his face and he takes a step back from you, silent as if contemplating. For a moment you wonder if your words had been enough to send him away, as if the malice you tried to summon would discourage him. For a moment, he looked vulnerable. Human, in a way that his association with the underworld of Yokohama would not allow.

But he extended his hand, and you gave it a quizzical stare.

“I am may things,” he began, interrupting your attempt to speak. “But I am not interested because your father wants nothing to do with me and what I bring.”

“Then what is it?” you whispered. Perhaps it was the dim lighting of the street outside your house, or perhaps it was the way the shadow of his hat fell across his features, but your heart began to race.

Perhaps it was because you already knew what his answer would be.

“My name is Nakahara Chuuya. I’m interested in you,” he answered. “I want to show you how to live, not how to marry yourself off to the richest family there is. Would you let me?”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, the giggle that you stifled with your hands and the sound that prompted him to relax, tension you had not noticed before draining from his shoulders.

“You’re asking for permission? By all means, go ahead.”

So you placed your hand over his and wished to see a different kind of life.

And he gave it to you.

He showed you the streets of Yokohama, how they shone in the night and how to find the best pubs and the best restaurants and how to stick a knife into anyone who dared to attack you. He taught you how to pick wine, something you normally let your mother do, how to communicate elegance and poise with posture alone, because even though you had your own experience there would always be more to learn. He coaxed you onto bridges, handed you sparklers and his coat and showed you how to have fun using nights as cover and the moonlight on the sidewalks to guide your way.

On the weekends slip away from home the moment the doors to your parents’ room shut, out the window to where Chuuya waited. He once offered to use his ability - “you are a politician’s daughter, don’t make a habit of scaling down walls” - but you always brushed it off with a shrug and a grin that practically mirrored his own. You were young and you were careless and you wanted to see more of the world he had to offer.

It was exhilarating.

Chuuya was exhilarating.

It was as if his very presence alone could get you drunk off the excitement and adventure he brought. You never asked why he chose to do this, chose to give you an escape from a life that became more restricting each day, but as the months passed and his nightly escapades with you continued, you began to understand a little.

You didn’t comprehend it completely, not until his lips brushed yours; and when you noticed he was far closer than he had ever been you did not step away and instead found yourself leaning into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands came to rest on your hips and you could taste hints of the cheap beer you had purchased at the corner store on his lips.

And with is, you realized the kind of game you were playing.

“We can’t do this,” you told him, the night five days later, when he chose to climb into your room rather than wait for you because you had not emerged as you used to. You saw the flicker of fear in his eyes as he considered the fact that you might want to end things before you went too deep, and you saw the flash of shock that twisted his visage for a split-second as the words slipped from your lips.

But you spoke the truth, and he knew it.

“We can’t,” he agreed. “You’re … you have to find someone soon, don’t you?”

Too late, the two of you had chosen to fall for each other too late to enjoy anything more than that one kiss, under the street lamps by your favorite noodle house. If only it had happened earlier, if only you had met him earlier.

“Do you wish I had been one of them?” Chuuya asked, low and unreadable.

Your head turned to see his somber expression. Forcing a smile on your face, you said, “Never. I’ll always love the things you showed me, Chuuya.”

He nodded. The casualness of your tone did not fool him, did not soften the blow of your inevitable separation.

“This is, then,” he sighed. You did not reply, lips pressing together to suppress the sob threatening to break free. His blue eyes, as bright and lively as it has always been, lifted to your visage.

This would be your final farewell.

“If you need me,” Chuuya said, over his shoulder as he made his way to the window again. “You know my number.”

He did not hear your answer.

You’re not even sure if you said anything.

But, months later, you called. You remembered. You realized, again and abruptly, that you no longer wanted what your family had to offer. What you wanted was so different, so unacceptable, but you knew how to achieve it.

It did not take you long to make your decision.

You did not believe in fate, not quite, but there had been something about him, about Nakahara Chuuya that would always leave you breathless. He has etched himself into your memory, and you would never forget the spark you once had.

What you still had.

You gave him a time, a place and a reminder of the promise he once made you.

Eyes sliding shut, the whispering of the room becomes nearly unbearable. Somewhere, somewhere in the near vicinity are your parents and the person they chose for you to marry. Somewhere is a future you do not want, a future you desperately wish to escape.

The very air of the place is suffocating.

“May I have this dance?”

A hand, a flash of teeth in a grin, and that red hair and captivating eyes.

Your gaze snaps in his direction, and it is as if a haze lifts itself from you.

“Yes,” you say. The champagne flute is abandoned, and with all stares in the room on you, Chuuya presses his lips against the back of your hand and pulls you away from the world that kept you shackled.

Not gonna lie though, when Emma kissed Killian I was full on thinking it was gonna be a TLK and that was how Snowing was gonna wake up.  I mean, the music was swelling, they’d (once again) just proclaimed their undying love for each other, they were reengaged.  It would have been the perfect moment.  I was sitting there like “Where is it?  Where’s the swoosh??  Why wasn’t there a magical rainbow swoosh??”  Guess I can’t have everything.

“Sway” (JakexMC Songfic)

Originally posted by perfectfeelings

Prompt: “Kitchen” (for ChoicesCreates), based off of the song, “Sway” by Dan + Shay

Summary: Jake wakes up in the middle of the night to find MC rummaging through the fridge. Dancing and a meaningful conversation ensues.

Warnings: Some sexually suggestive themes (nothing graphic, labeling just to be safe), lots of fluffy feels

*AUTHOR’S NOTE* -Hey, y’all! I hope you’re all doing fantastic! I just wanted to say thank you everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on my last fic, “Thinking of You.” It really meant a lot! And I also want to say thank you to those who sent me some sweet words of encouragement yesterday, when I was really feeling down. You guys are the absolute best! Anyway, this will be a 2 part songfic, with the 2nd part posted sometime this weekend. As always, feedback is definitely welcome! Let me know what you like, what you don’t!

As I said last week, thank you  @hollyashton for coming up with ChoicesCreate Carnival! It’s such a blast to do, and I love seeing how creative everyone in this fandom is! I’d also like to thank @choicesmyway for being the host this week!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to Pixelberry. I just use them for my own creative pleasure. I hope you enjoy!


He knew her side of the bed was empty before he had even opened his eyes. Over the last three years he had gotten used to the feeling of her body against his. He had memorized every curve, every crease, and how they fit against him like pieces of a puzzle. There was once a time he had enjoyed waking up in a bed alone, but now he couldn’t even fathom the thought of not having her head on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her, her hand trailing over his back subconsciously when he was paralyzed  by a nightmare. To be without her like that would be unnatural.

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Never Let Go - Garderenza oneshot

ca·den·za (noun) - a virtuoso solo passage inserted into a movement in a concerto or other work, typically near the end.


The villagers are fleeing when she starts to sing, and he rushes to accompany her, not even pausing to celebrate with the rest of the staff.  It was the one thing the Enchantress had left alone, her voice, her singing, his heaven, how he had longed to hear it again.

He tries.  He tries to hit all the right notes, but many of his keys are missing; strangely enough it doesn’t hurt much anymore, only a small feeling of absence, numbness, nothing—but he shakes it off, his love for his dear one swelling much like the solo he was named for and he is sure that his feelings reach her.  For a moment, everything is perfect, they’re harmonizing together, her voice is for him, his music for her, as it always should be.

But it isn’t long before he realizes something is wrong; her voice is getting softer, weaker, the moon is hiding and soon she’s barely whispering words meant for him, only for him, and it’s just before she fades away completely that he realizes she’s bidding him farewell.

There’s a pause as he looks up, hardly believing what he’s hearing, but she’s not there, there’s only an antique, a finely carved and decorated piece of furniture, delicate, fragile, beautiful, but not his love, not his wife, she’s not there, she’s not there.

Amore…no

The notes become loud and fast, his melody frantic and flustered and he’s begging her to stay, to come back to him.  He has just been reunited with her; there is so much to do, so much to say, what he’d give to hear her gorgeous refrain again—it can’t end now, it can’t, it’s not fair

don’t leave me…!

Then it finds him too, a stiffness, cold paralysis, terrifying, horrible, darkness closing in.  He tries to say one last something, one final chord, anything at all

but he can’t talk, he can’t move, he can’t








BREATHE

Oh god.

He blinks and looks up, his heart pounding in his chest and his hands tingling with renewed feeling.  There’s light everywhere.  Light and color and a bright blue sky.  He looks around, disoriented, wondering for a moment if he’s already dead, but then a hand caresses his cheek, and it looks real, feels real.  Then the colors clear from his vision and his breath catches in his throat.

She’s dressed just as she was that night, completely unchanged, yet somehow even more beautiful than he remembered.   He’s speechless, awestruck by just how heavenly she is, and he wonders—for the umpteenth time in his life—if he really was lucky enough to marry her.  She was an angel when he first met her, and she still is, only she’s his angel, his love, his whole world.

Madame…?”  

Her answering smile melts away any of his remaining doubt, and his vision blurs with unshed tears as he leans in to kiss her, his own hand coming up to grasp hers.  

He knows that somewhere up in the tower, Belle and the prince are celebrating the lifting of the enchantment, or that Lumiere and Plumette are staring into each others’ eyes at this very moment, but he doesn’t care.  As he reaches out to embrace her, he knows that the dark days of isolation are over; it has been too long since he had been able to hold her in his arms like this.

His joy could be tangible, his relief a concerto unlike any other, their love a symphony that will never end.

Before, the curse would have said that “never-ending” was unreachable, forever out of their grasp, but now Cadenza has her back, his reason for living, and he’s never going to let go of her again.


[To @metanoiaiisms, @ebrienne, @rebelfrostedunicorn, @hope-in-stars, @trenzaloures, and anyone else who wanted to see this posted.  Thanks guys, you rock!]

Zelda: “Hey Link, I just tooted, just now” *thematic classic zelda music swell*

Me in tears: This is so beautiful the dialogue is just so good and perfect