because she was playing it on the piano

So here I am trying to study for my anatomy exam and all I can think about is 

  • Lucifer sitting at the piano
  • Lucifer playing the piano with ALL HIS HEART for the WOMAN HE LOVES
  • Lucifer singing Eternal Flame. FOR CHLOE.
  • Chloe watching Lucifer play the piano
  • Chloe listening to the lyrics he is singing
  • Chloe tearing up a bit because she knows the song is about them, more specifically the way Lucifer feels about her
  • Chloe smiling because she just can’t help herself because SHE LOVES HIM and she knows she can’t stay mad at him

My heart is so full right now. I’m smiling just thinking about this scene. It’s going to be beautiful.

Some Thoughts: Storm in the Room

With the reactions post-Storm in the Room, I feel that Steven doesn’t get enough credit. Going to Rose’s Room, searching for answers, and comfort even though he didn’t know that yet, Steven wasn’t setting out to create a perfect mother or project himself the ideal version of Rose. He starts, the moment he enters the room, by saying he knew it wasn’t real.

Everything Steven did with Cloud Rose, everything that happened between them, were reasonable assumptions we could make of Rose. And this is because the Rose we saw was from Steven’s expectations of what she would be like. And Steven was wary about idealising Rose the way the Crystal Gems did. He says this explicitly several times. Also, Steven’s view of Rose was tempered early on by Greg’s stories of her. 

So the Rose we see isn’t a sad Steven’s attempt at finding the perfect mother figure. Steven’s attempt at a reasonable and believable portrayal of Rose deserves to be acknowledged. Had it not been the case, the Rose we saw could not have evoked the feelings she did. It’s because of the depth Steven introduced to her from all his memories of her that it was made possible.

And what I want to talk about in this post, is how the images of Rose reflect which narratives he’s channeling as he tries to piece together, quite literally, the image of Rose.

The first appearance of Cloud Rose shows her with messy hair, parts of it stick up and around her. Her facial expressions are often wiggly, for lack of better word, and she shows her thighs a lot more than in the succeeding scenes, either in cross-sitting or running. 

This Rose is goofy and funny and casual. And it’s the Rose whom Greg’s stories have constructed in Steven’s memories. 

The same scenes we see Rose hitch up her dress in the same way (such as when she’s reading books with Greg on the bed) or similarly goofy, like stopping a ferris wheel with her bare hands, she’s with Greg. 

Even the line Steven takes from her video in Lion 3: Straight to Video, about “every X being unique and beautiful” is shot in Greg’s presence. Without realising it, Steven is remembering this image of Rose.

And she cares about Steven. She engages in his interests. It’s not so far a stretch because some episodes back, Bismuth was willing to do the same thing. Rose was a fun person. There’s a running joke that she would have loved cheesy and corny jokes. She probably told a few in her day. 

She probably wasn’t always as poised as presented in her portrait. Greg remembers the Rose he changed, when she was starting to understand human beings in earnest and come to terms with how they could exist with gems on the same level. 

Rose at that point still didn’t want to talk about her past, and Greg never made her. So Greg and Rose made new memories and didn’t dwell on the old. And those memories were filled with fun and laughter and love.

The moment sobers when it is Rose not Steven, who gestures the latter to sit down and stare at the expanse of clouds.

And we should know that what we’re about to see means something has changed. The first hint is that Rose’s body language changes. She sits perfectly straight, even though she’s cross-sitting the way she was earlier. And we don’t see her legs anymore. Her hair neatens and her expression calms.

What’s more, her hands assume the position Garnet did in Here Comes A Thought in Mindful Education. And that emphasises the kind of role Rose plays in this moment. Steven felt Rose taught Garnet how to manage her feelings, because it was a motherly thing to do. In a very Steven Universe fashion, the music changes from the bright xylophone to a quiet piano music, which is the mark of another Crystal Gem, Pearl. 

And when we go back to the senior Crystal Gems and their image of Rose, it is exactly the way she’s presented.

Cloud Rose is a huge presence, with Steven a small child by her side. She speaks deliberately, every word is one of wisdom. She is magnanimous and comforting at the same time. 

She tells him, “But we’ve been together the entire time.” And it brings back the idea of how our parents are always with us, and a part of us, because one way or another they’ve left a mark on us.

At the same time though, the similarities of the scenes between this moment and the one at Rose’s Fountain in An Indirect Kiss, lead to the same end.

Rose is viewed as a godly icon, very distant from Steven. She’s not sitting beside him, playing with him, kneeling on the ground anymore. He looks up to her, and he can’t reach her.

In both times, he realises she’s not really there. That he talked to the statue of Rose in the fountain, confided his deepest insecurities about how he didn’t know how to feel about her when everyone else did, parallels the empty image on his phone.

And it segues into the next scene perfectly.

Because Steven doesn’t know how to feel about Rose. Now, he’s more certain than ever that he doesn’t even know who she is. The Rose we see at the end has a blank face, because Steven can’t project anything on it. He’s thinking of Pink Diamond’s shattering, Bismuth, and the Rebellion, and all the people hurt by them.

When he sees Rose, he can no longer see himself, which is why her eyes, one of the facial features most like Steven’s, (next to his nose) are nowhere to be seen.

And this Rose is distant, because there’s no mitigating narrative linking him to her. In the other scenes, the room remained the same, because these stories he was told of Rose and who she was firmly rooted the first two Roses as part of the real Rose’s identity.

This Rose is foreign, because nowhere in those narratives did Steven think it possible to for her to do the things he learned she did.

And in that moment he begins to doubt. 

Because he can no longer see the image of his mother, he doesn’t know where he himself stands. A huge part of his identity is being Rose’s son. What happens when the “Rose” part becomes fuzzy, blurry, and unintelligible?

What happens to the Steven?

Notice that this Rose is silent. She offers no response to the accusations Steven hurls at her, about all the people she hurt and her act of leaving them all behind. 

At this point, we see the part of Steven that understands Rose is gone. That he’s never going to get these answers and there won’t be an explanation coming from her.

There are some things he’ll never get to hear about, some memories he’ll never know, some experiences he’ll never share with her.

And it’s sad and disheartening and lonely. In losing his idea of Rose, Steven loses a part of his identity. Such that he felt it would be better if he denounced Rose, cutting off the part of himself he didn’t want to think about: That he was created just to fix her mistakes.

It’s then that we see Rose’s face for the first time since we’ve entered the paradigm of Rose-through-Steven’s eyes. Not Greg’s, not the Crystal Gem’s. Because these new things he’s learned about Rose are things the others would never have known without him. How else would they have heard the Diamond’s song of mourning? How would they have known Bismuth was there all along?

And the things Rose said in the tape were meant for Steven, in a space only Steven could find.

The Rose speaking to Steven at the end is the Rose who’s already spoken to Steven directly before, through the tape.

A lot of negative reaction has been given to this moment, because it feels as though the tape absolves Rose of everything she’s done. It doesn’t and I don’t feel that was the point.

The point of her saying that, was to reaffirm Steven’s belief in Steven. To show that it wasn’t about Rose anymore, that Steven’s birth wasn’t about Rose but about him.

And it’s striking that’s the only time we see her face again. Because immediately after, Steven hugs her, and her face is obscured. 

That’s Steven’s recognition that he’s never going to hear any other words straight from his mother for him. He understands and he realises that nonetheless, Rose is exerting a presence in his life. He really is always with her and never alone. 

The past few episodes and everything leading up to them were about Steven’s realising his mother was still an individual, one who could made mistakes and rash, selfish decisions. 

He was afraid that upon realising his mother could be a selfish individual, could do huge selfish things that affected thousands of lives, he feared the act of his birth, the most personal thing about him, was meant to serve her self-interests alone too. He needed a concrete and tangible answer, which was what prompted him to go to the room. 

At the end of the episode, he didn’t think that anymore. He knows he has a lot of work ahead in figuring out Rose’s place in his life, but the lingering doubt of the very foundation of his existence is gone.

And because of that, he finally feels comfortable letting her go.

quotes from the music department

*Repeatedly sings part of the music in scat*

“Ben swore to Jesus that if he didn’t help me at the concert he’d do thirty push-ups in front of the entire band, and I’m just as excited for this as you guys are.”

“If it were easy, football players would be doing this”

“We were 4.75 points off of the next band, and I’ll make certain this number will haunt you until next season.”

“Tomorrow’s gonna be a rough week.”

“I’ll just get a golf cart to follow the band in the parade. Maybe one day I’ll play a halftime show in a golf cart, all by myself.”

“No, Danny, you’re not starting a group chat for jazz.”

“Someone made me a 22&½-inch stick to measure steps. Don’t make me use it.”

“Trumpets, raise your right hand, and move it over to the person next to you. You’ll be fingering the notes on their trumpet.” *leans over to woodwinds* “this is gonna be really funny”

“We don’t have Thursday night rehearsal this week, so live the lives you have outside of band. So basically, catch up on homework.”

“Here it is– wait no, that’s 32 pages, that’s not right.”

“Before we step off on Saturday, you need to focus and say the following prayer”

“All the freshmen are on break, none of them are here!” *section leader raises hand* “Adeline’s here” “She’s the only one ADELINE WHY DONT YOU TAKE BREAKS IN THE STANDS”

“I hope this is loud enough, because this is as loud as its gonna get” *glares at the saxophone that forgot the speaker* “He forgot the speaker, my own flesh and blood.”

“As usual, the bassist knows the articulation and rhythms to the saxophone parts better than the saxophones do.”

*beatboxes to metronome*

“I want you to go home, do homework, practice, do more homework, have a milkshake, and practice some more.”

“If you want to annoy the heck out of a musician, play a cadence but leave out the last chord and wait like 20 minutes”

“this passage is called ‘Glendy Burk.’ I went to high school with her, actually.”

“you aren’t feeling well? Drugs?”

“while I was in the middle of complimenting you, you made a mistake”

“that saxophone line was jazzy as hell”

“you just have to play angrier”

“what’s the point if they’re all accented?”

“you squeaked in tune”

“can you take that d?”

“you can play my final pitch”

“imagine brass knuckles, but on a tambourine”

“I had to blow on my tongue”

“Bethany, you’re my number one!”

“the entire band is pianissimo, so play really loud. mezzo piano.”

“go through the head”

“BAD tambourine!!!”

“112 is the American tempo”

“the audience started clapping during the caesura. I didn’t know whether to continue on or leave the stage.”

“Matthew, while you were gone, Ed and I determined that you’re a freeloader”

“you came in early” “I don’t remember”

“did you just compare terrible bass parts to a terrorist attack?”

“Christ, Elizabeth, you’re such a violinist”

“All of our violas are at another rehearsal today, so we’ll begin today’s rehearsal with a prayer as that is the only thing that can save us.”

“We don’t have a spare bass bow to use while Ed’s is being rehaired, so you two are just gonna have to share. Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Ah, yes, but what baroque style are we talkin’ here”

“It was at that point she handed the first chair violin a viola part. He proceeded to hand it back to her.”

“I went home and cradled that music. I never get original bass parts.”

“She turned the page in her score and forgot to continue conducting. Honestly, I would’ve been less surprised had she thrown her baton into the cello section”

“There are two basses in pit this year, so we’re an actual section, so he can’t just shove us in the corner this year HIGH FIVE”

“Does she really know how to buy a bow? She should make it a field trip so you get the right one.” *swings hands in air super wide* “it has to AGREE and BLEND with the instrument DO YOU SEE”

“When the orchestra director doesn’t know what to do she just asks the second chair. If he’s gone, she waits until a day he attends rehearsal to ask him.”

“Don’t be afraid to play out. Except during rests. Then you should be very afraid.”

“is it ok if I start to cry a little right now?”

“I had anaemia as a kid, and my schoolteacher’s name sounded like ‘anaemia’, so naturally, I hated her”

“she took the pen out of my hand and said, ‘no, Richard, use pencil.’ I was so mad”

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that there are fewer bassists today and higher rates of suicide, gang violence, school shootings…”

“channel your inner Whitney Houston”

“play quietly, like you’re about to wake a baby. except you’re the baby, because you didn’t practice”

“I have another metronome app now. I collect them.”

“if someone calls my bass a cello one more time I’m gonna lose it”

“at the gig, a drunk guy came up to me, pointed to my harp, and called it a sideways piano”

“I want the space between these notes to be so big you can fit a little drawing of a house, a sun, a tree, and little dog in there.”

“90º angle notes”

“I want the sixteenth notes so sharp they could kill a man”

“turn the soundbox on”

“do you have a fancy phone? the answer is yes, yes you do.”

“I listened to the narration a few times before realising it was in German”

“I’ve got, like, four copies of that piece. the conductor keeps forgetting that I already have it and makes me a new copy.”

“soon I’ll have AIDS. Hearing aids, I mean. I’m old, is what I’m saying”

“more birdlike, turn on roundabout faster”

“kissing from the left is different from kissing from the right. not that I would know. asking for a friend.”

anonymous asked:

ooh what are your Hunk hc's??

oooh nice i’m gonna have so much fun answering this ok nice thank u anon bless u

- he can’t spend money on himself for shit!! not even necessities!! he’s like: (stares at the grocery list of food items he needs to Survive™) “ok but like…. i have a plum in my fridge at home. i don’t need all of this? i’ll be fine” he does need it. he won’t be fine. lance has started tagging along when hunk goes grocery shopping bc he just won’t buy anything for himself otherwise!! he’ll buy gifts for his friends without a second thought though. like. he won’t even plan on it he’s just like: “oh my god that’s such a shiny knife. keith would love that.” he knows keith has too many knives already and probably doesn’t need any more but? it doesn’t stop him from knowing that keith would love that knife specifically. he’s gotta buy it for him. he’s just gotta. (he was right. keith did love it. he’s so great at gifts.)

- he’s a Cat Magnet™. he sits and then there are ten cats using him as a bed. they’re on his shoulders, on his chest, his lap, his face. he doesn’t know who they are or where they came from. he doesn’t question it. he just lives like this.

- he loves painting his nails and he’s really good at it! he works hard to make them all perfect but he doesn’t really mind much when they get messed up.


- sometimes he zones out when people complain to him and when he finally zones back in he’s just like “dump him.” as if he were paying complete attention. even if what they were complaining about had nothing to do with anything that that would possibly solve. his friends always accept that as great advice though.

- he honestly… has the best puns. whenever someone (besides lance. lance is the only exception. no one knows when they established that but they’ve just accepted it by now) insults his puns the entire team is on them like “what the fuck did you just say? we have a giant robot that could kick your ass! we have five lions (part of the robot) that could also kick your ass! yea… you better be careful… asshole.”

- the true Mr. Mystery. reveals nothing about himself, acts like he has nothing to hide. no one suspects a thing

- he can play any instrument by ear! like he’ll just pick it up and bam. it’s perfect. pidge has had five years of piano lessons and could never hope to be as good as he is. she’s not sure if she should be totally pissed or completely in awe. he can’t read music though

- he just has that aura™ that tells you he’s a nice person that you should totally befriend. he doesn’t have to approach people to make friends, because they all approach him

- also he’ll totally talk to cashiers for you if you’re too anxious. he’s a ball of anxiety himself but like? he’s just “screw you anxiety i’m helping my friend and there’s nothing u can do about it”

- anyway i love him

Parents didn’t always read the orientation material.

There were a few, every year.  They insisted on helping the new students move into the dorms.  They sent boxes from home, full of cookies or brownies or favorite munchies.  They called frequently (it wasn’t safe.  Letters were safer, e-mail was safer, even texts were safer, but calls not so much.)  They begged for pictures, for visits, and sometimes they accidentally-on-purpose “just happened to be in the area”.

The staff tried to deal with parents.  Oh how they tried.  Usually it worked.  The Gentry almost never kept parents.

But some… some parents never left.

She had taken piano lessons when she was younger.  Her parents approved:  that was a womanly decorative thing to do.  She had never played sports, because that wasn’t a womanly decorative thing.  She wore dresses.  She took ballet, she sang, she painted. Her parents told her every day in every way who they thought she should be, and she tried, she really did.

She was tired of not being good enough.  

She applied to Elsewhere, and got a full music scholarship, and carefully out of sight in the shower she sobbed with relief and fear.  Her parents loved her, they really did, they told her so.  The disappointment at her, the silent treatment, the confinement and not being allowed out with her friends… well, they were just trying to protect her, right?  They didn’t know the bubble wrap they tried to put around her was smothering her.  

She read the orientation paperwork, every single scrap.  She wanted to do everything right, because the thought of doing it wrong terrified her.  Even the strange stuff, maybe especially the strange stuff, because everything in life was a test, another opportunity to disappoint.

“As an environmentally-conscious measure, Elsewhere University’s campus is not set up to allow automobile traffic.  For those students who need transportation help, there are staff with golf carts available, as well as a series of campus shuttles that make regular stops.  Bicycles are available for rent by the hour, the week, or the semester.  Skateboards and skates are permitted but proper safety gear must be worn.”

Father was angry when campus security wouldn’t let him drive straight to her dorm.  She trembled.  Always, when Father was angry, somehow either she or Mother paid.  He fumed while waiting for a golf cart, he clenched his jaw when the staff member driving the golf cart refused to simply step aside and hand over the keys, he was elaborately careful when helping load her things after being refused a campus map.

Her dorm was a solid brick building, a pleasant generic institutional place.  Father insisted on carrying her things up to her room, on the second floor.  "So I know where my little girl will be,“ he said. His anger cooled a little with the exertion, down to its usual simmer.

It only took a few trips to get all of her things upstairs.  Father insisted on a hug, just on the edge of being painful as his hugs always were.  She endured it, because trying to get away always earned a lecture.  "I love you so much, you’ll always be my little girl, you are a disappointment because you don’t love me as much as I love you, but I will forgive you because I am better than you.”

“Elsewhere University wishes to be the beginning of a new life for every student.  We ask that students choose a nickname, in order to facilitate this feeling of a new beginning.  Common nickname categories are an interest, a favorite song or work of art, an aspiration, or a personal quality.  It is our firm belief, demonstrated by decades of successful graduates, that this practice allows students the freedom to really expand their horizons and demonstrate both their personalities and their capabilities both actual and potential.  In support of this practice, we ask that legal names not be used on campus except with the Student Services or Records and Enrollment offices.”

The driver helped as Father made one last check to be sure nothing had been left.  He reminded her to call twice a week.  He hugged her again, ignoring the gasp she made as he let go.  "Remember to call your Mother, Susan.  You’ll always be her little girl, and you know how she worries.“

“I will, Father.”

The driver watched, waiting patiently while Father said his good-byes, then cleared his throat.  "Sir, if you want to attend the parent orientation, we need to be going.“  

"Yes, I’d planned on attending.  I need to know everything, to help keep my Susan safe.”  Father climbed aboard, and the driver waved as they left.  For an instant his hand seemed to have too many fingers.

She felt eyes on her as they drove away.

She climbed the stairs back to her room, looking forward to taking her shoes off and unpacking.  The door, locked when she left it, was still locked, but now there was a pile of stuff underneath the open window.  

“Hey!  Sorry I wasn’t here when you were bringing stuff up, he looked a bit intense, oh hey are you ok?”  The girl on the tree branch outside the window climbed in and sat on the windowsill.

She nodded.  She locked the door behind her, then sat on one of the beds.

“I’m Magpie, second year, one of the stage monkeys for the theater.  You wanna see?  No obligation.”

“Yeah, I… I paint, a little.”

“You do?  Cool!  Hey, but if you want to go see, that outfit’s cute and all but it’ll get ruined pretty quick.”

“I’ve got some grubbies, let me unpack.”

Magpie grinned and pushed her hair behind one ear.  "Your dad isn’t one of those types who thinks he’ll be visiting every weekend, is he?  'Cause I can’t hide all the time.“

"I think he was heading to the parent orientation.”

Magpie blinked.  "Oh… kay.“

"What, okay?”

“There’s someone I want you to meet.  They go by Melanotis. They’ll tell you about the parent orientation.  Are you sure you’re ok?”  Magpie pushed her hair back again. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Why do you keep asking?”

“There is no parent orientation.  Here, take this.  No obligation.”  Magpie took a ring off of her index finger and handed it to her.  It was a puzzle ring made of iron and pyrite, and it fit her index finger as if it had been made for her.

“Thanks, but why?”

“My dad was like that, too.  What do you want to be called?”

The choice, the possibility of choice, was dizzying.  Something to hang onto… a favorite song.  "Call me Sussudio,“ she said, and smiled.

[x]

Demigods as Instruments They Learned to Play as a Kid
  • Percy: Piano. He never took lessons because they couldn't pay for it, but his elementary music teacher noticed that he was pretty good at keyboard when they played in class, and offered to teach him it.
  • Annabeth: Saxophone. She played it in the school band but never took it too seriously once she ran away. Every once in awhile she plays and it reminds her of simpler times.
  • Piper: Ukulele. She has a perfect singing voice to match the chords, and enjoys learning popular songs and making covers. Her cover to House Of Gold is breathtaking.
  • Jason: Violin. Because this nerd really enjoys classical music. There is an orchestra at New Rome, which got a lot more popular after the boy on violin became praetor.
  • Leo: Snare Drums. Typical high school band drummer. Taps constantly. Swirls a drumstick 24/7.
  • Frank: Trumpet. He can go super high on it, which is extremely hard, but has trouble hitting a lot of the low notes. Probably could be in a professional jazz band if he wanted to.
  • Hazel: Tuba. It's almost the same size as her, but that doesn't stop her from excelling at it. Her and Sammy were the top in their section back in school.
  • Nico: Flute. Wanting to be like Bianca, he picked the same instrument as her in elementary school. He secretly still plays every once in awhile with Grover, since reed pipes are similar enough.

“When I first learned the piano and played those wretched scales, the teacher beside me had a pencil in her hand and she hit my fingers every time I played a wrong note. [Consequently] I never learned to read music because I hesitated too long to play the note on time. Because I was always [thinking] ‘Is this pencil gonna land?’ See? And that gets built into your psyche. So, people are always—although they’re adults and nobody is screaming at them any longer—they hear the echoes of that screaming momma or that bombinating poppa in the back of their heads all their life long. And so they adopt the same attitude to their own children and the farce continues.”

Alan Watts

exo as dads

xiumin:

• He reads a lot of books about pregnancy each time they were expecting

• He worries a lot for his kids, each time they cry or gets sick his heart hurts since he can’t make them feel better instantly

• Loves playing with them by pretending to eat their feet and hands. Lots of raspberries to their belly

• Gives the biggest and warmest hugs

• When they were old enough he tried introducing them to coffee (he sulked for a hour when they said “ewww it tastes weird”)

• Visits the park often to play soccer with his kids. Gets a bit too competitive sometimes. Buys them ice cream before heading home

suho:

• He has cried every time his wife gave birth

• Throws extravagant birthday parties for his kids

• Loves reading them bedtime stories

• Dad jokes. Lots of dad jokes

• Tells them stories about their exo uncles and himself when he was a cool leader back in the day

• He sometimes falls asleep with them when they ask him to lie down with them to protect them from monsters until they fell asleep

yixing:

• Has the biggest and proudest smile each time he holds his child for the first time

• He likes admiring their little face, nose, hands and feet. Wishes that they would stop growing up so fast

• Sings them his own composed lullabies for sleeping time

• Lets his children play in his studio. Sometimes he even records songs with them (those are special songs that he saves onto a hard drive to keep forever and he likes to play them when friends or family visit)

• Gives them mini piano and guitar lessons (he finds it so cute when the instrument is bigger than the child)

• He is kind and gentle but he can discipline them when he needs to. He feels bad each time so he hugs them and makes sure they understand why he had to discipline them (eg. “I had to stop you because pulling your sisters hair hurts her, you wouldn’t like it if I pulled your hair right?”)

chanyeol:

• “She/he’s so tiny!”. That’s his reaction when he holds his child for the first time. Even if his wife had given birth before

• Loves lifting and spinning his children around (produces squealing and laughter every time)

• Loves chasing them around the house (sometimes for fun and other times it’s because they don’t want to sleep or put their clothes on properly)

• Loves cooking for his kids (he has the biggest grin when they ask for more)

• Over exaggerates his reactions to make his kids laugh

• He hums softly to them while he gently bounces them to sleep

baekhyun:

• Wakes up early because his kids wake up early and jumps on his bed

• His goal each day is to make his kids smile and laugh

• Bought extra microphones for the karaoke machine so that his kids can join in to sing (scream) with him 

• When it’s bath time, he always gets ready a bubble bath and throws in many water toys (Eg. rubber ducks, boats and plastic fish etc…)

• He tried to be stern and discipline them when they’re misbehaving but they just see it as a way to play with dad 

• Once they sleep, he crashes too since he used so much energy during the day 

chen: 

• His household is filled with squealing and laughter 

• Loves playing hide and go seek tag and also what time is it mr wolf

• He hasn’t dropped his habit of talking to his kids using baby talk

• Loves singing songs for them. He can sing anything from lullabies to exo hits 

• Pranks mum together 

• He also plays small pranks on his kids like surprising them by jumping from behind a wall or by scaring them by wearing a silly mask (sometimes they start crying instead of laughing) 

kyungsoo: 

• Gives his kids kisses each morning to wake them up 

• Loves cooking with and for his kids (he has the brightest smile when they say “daddy’s cooking is the best!”) 

• They love grocery shopping with him because he turns the chore into a scavenger hunt 

• His children love re enacting his dramas with him 

• He built a small veggie garden in the backyard to teach his kids where their food comes from and to help them understand how much effort it takes to grow produce (which is why they should try their best to finish eating their food)

• Every night, his children asks him to sing different lullabies and ballads so that they can fall asleep peacefully (they love his smooth voice)

kai:

• Cuddle monster

• Plays with his kids by lifting each of them up with his legs and he holds their arms out saying “airplane! zooom zoom!”

• Starts tickle wars with them 

• His kids became best friends with his cute doggies, they’re inseparable

• Challenges them to a dance competition often. He’ll lose on purpose each time because they’re just so cute jumping and shimmering around

• If his kids have nightmares, they’re always welcome to join him in his bed or he’s always happy to sleep in their bed while holding them until they go back to sleep

sehun: 

• Every time his wife becomes pregnant he goes on a shopping spree (baby clothes, crib, room decor, blankets, nappies, pacifiers, plush toys, bibs etc…) 

• He does spoil his kids just a little, tiny, teeny bit

• Likes to ask his kids “Do you like mum or dad better?”

• Encourages his kids to do more things by themselves such as walking and eating (he jumps in if they are struggling or nearly hurt themselves). He can’t stop showering them with compliments and kisses once they succeed or achieve a milestone

• His heart melts every time Vivi plays with his kids 

• Builds blanket forts for them each weekend and holds Disney movie marathons (sing alongs are a must) 

Lena’s Love Song for Kara

Prompt from @thatghostlygay – “Lena is classically trained in piano and her Extra Gay™ self composes a piece for Kara and she asks Supergirl for advice, tells her that she wrote it for Kara and plays it for her and asks her if Kara would like it. Supergirl is just in awe and can barely form a sentence, just nods and says “you should play it for Kara and ask her what she thinks, I’m sure she would LOVE it.” And Lena just giggles softly to herself, grabs her reading glasses off the top of the piano and puts them gently on Kara, smirks, and says “well?"”

Note: this is one of the most beautiful prompts I’ve ever received and I almost didn’t want to write it because it’s just so beautiful how could I ever do it justice???? Thank you for blessing us with this piece of gorgeousness <3 <3 <3


Kara seems flustered when Lena tries to take her to expensive restaurants (”You don’t need to spend that much on me, Lena, I… don’t get me wrong, everything’s amazing, and it’s beautiful here, I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to”).

She seems flustered when Lena tries to send limos across town to pick Kara up for their lunch dates (”I can f… I can take the bus. The bus is… the bus is nice. It’s… I like the bus, it’s really okay, you don’t have to go out of your way”).

She seems flustered when Lena overhears her humming “Helpless” and the next day presents her with tickets to Hamilton (”Lena, that’s too much! I mean, Ra – god, of course I’ve wanted to see it since it came out, but I… I can’t accept something so generous, I – I mean, unless you wanted to see it, too? We could see it together?”).

To be honest, Kara seems flustered most of the time around Lena.

It’s one of the things Lena lo – likes – so much about her.

Her earnestness. Her genuineness. Her openness.

Her awkwardness.

And to be honest, spending money on her? Or offering to, anyway?

Is one of the only ways Lena knows how to show Kara that she appreciates her. Show Kara that she deserves the best. Show Kara that she loves… being her friend.

Being her friend, with lingering glances and not-so-stealthy eyes flitting down to lips and heavy innuendo over candlelight and potstickers and red wine that she’s pretty sure isn’t actually affecting Kara, but something certainly has her cheeks flushed.

But Kara?

Kara is thrilled with Noonan’s instead of Starbucks, enamored of food trucks instead of five-star restaurants, moans with delight at the city’s cheapest potstickers instead of the city’s most expensive catering service.

So Lena decides to get creative.

Because Kara is worth learning new ways of communicating for.

Kara is worth… everything.

So she gives her everything.

She gives her everything with her fingers, with her soul, sitting down at her grand piano with her reading glasses and blank staff paper and a pencil and a glass of red wine – hell, a bottle of red wine – each night for a month, sometimes until two, three, four a.m., working, working, feeling, feeling, being, dreaming, giving.

It’s more exhausting than her most hostile board meetings, and it’s more draining than a series of confrontations with her mother.

But unlike those encounters, this? This process, of writing music for Kara? Composing a classical piece that will refuse to capture, but rather paint, the woman who saw her when no one else did, who fought for her when no one else would, who adjusts her glasses and fiddles with her fingers and brings Lena donuts and laughs at her ridiculous jokes and writes beautifully, generously, compassionately?

This process drains her, because it requires her to pour so much of herself into the piece. But it also gives back to her, abundantly, because Kara Danvers? Kara Danvers is a perfect muse.

She’s shaking when she’s finally ready to show it to her, and her fingers – so practiced, so trained, so refined – disobey her, dialing Supergirl instead of Kara Danvers.

Because it gives her an out. Even if she’s right – and of course, she’s right, the glasses are ridiculous, and she’s know what those arms feel like around her body no matter what kind of suit they’re clothed in – playing the piece for Supergirl instead of Kara gives her an out.

“Thank you for coming,” she says, somewhat formally, making it sound easy, the way she masks the trembling in her voice.

But god, it’s not.

“I… it’s silly, I know, and surely you have more important things to be attending to, but I… I wrote something. For your friend, Kara. And I wanted to see what you think. Before I play it for her.”

Supergirl crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head – Lena wonders if she’s picked it up from Agent Danvers’s girlfriend – and furrows her brow.

“Play it?”

Lena fights down a hard blush, and forces herself to keep composure, keep composure, keep composure.

“A song. One of the few gifts my mother actually gave me – she made sure I grew up a classically trained pianist. Well, not at her hand, of course. At boarding school. And I wrote Kara a… piece. Would you mind terribly? Listening to it?”

Supergirl stammers, and Lena knows with full certainly, then, that she’s right. About Kara and Supergirl.

She recovers quicker than she does without the cape, though, and she gestures almost too enthusiastically for Lena to sit at her piano.

“Of course I wouldn’t mind!”

Lena smiles, and she sits, and she begins.

Her entire body moves with her playing as her eyes drift closed; she’s practiced the piece so many times, learned the intricacies she’s sewn into it so intimately, that she can let her eyes drift closed, no need for her sheet music, as she wills herself to float on the notes that she’s gifted to Kara, the notes that she’s woven together into the lightest, darkest, most hopeful, most sacred, arrangement that she could paint into the air between them.

She loses track of time and she loses track even of the flutters in her own heart, playing on and on, until the final notes echo through the room softly, delicately, perfectly.

She lets her eyes linger closed – lets herself relish the moment as long as she can, lest Supergirl hate it, lest she reject her, lest she say, finally, that Lena is too much, has gone too far, has crossed too many lines – until Supergirl’s stammering brings her scared eyes up to meet shockingly blue ones.

“Lena, I…. that… wow, it… I… it…”

“You can be honest, Supergirl: if you didn’t like it, I want you to feel free to – “

“No! No, I… you… you should play it. For Kara. I’m sure… I’m sure Kara would love it. Like, really love it. You should play it. For her.”

Lena chuckles softly to herself – a chuckle that’s really a giggle, and the fact that she’s giggling only further solidifies her knowledge that this superhero is her superhero, her Kara – and she reaches with a surprisingly steady hand for her reading glasses, anchored in front of her sheet music.

She unfolds them deliberately, stands, and places them gently, carefully, onto Kara’s face. She smirks at Kara’s slack jaw, and her stammering, at how beautiful Kara looks in Supergirl’s suit.

“Well? Shall I play it again right now, or would you like a minute to collect yourself? My hero.”

“Lena… I… how… I mean… Pfft, I – I don’t know what you – “

“Kara.”

Kara gulps and adjusts Lena’s glasses on her own face instinctively. Lena barely restrains herself from a victorious “ha!”.

“Kara Danvers, do you trust me?”

“With anything,” Kara answers somberly, seriously, earnestly, all pretense abandoned.

Lena’s eyes flicker to Kara’s lips, and she bites her own.

“Then trust me with this. I will never betray your secret. Lord knows I know what it is to have some of my own.”

“Lena…”

“Kara.”

“Play it again? For me?”

Lena fights down tears, the lump in her throat.

Because the look in Kara’s eyes?

Lena can’t be the only one of them who’s irrevocably in love.

“Of course, Kara. Of course.”

BTS on their Wedding Day

Seokjin: 

  • He would be running around all day making sure everything is perfect. And the boys would definetly be yelling at him to stop because “It’s YOUR big day. Stop, we’ll do it!”
  • Still he is going to continue bickering and complaining about anything and everything.
  • He would start eating the food even before the ceremony starts and he would definetly be eating more because of stress.
  • He tries to sneak into the brides room to take a glance
  • definetly gets caught by namjoon
  • Being prettier than the bride but saying she is prettier
  • Boys putting the veil on his head and calling him The Bride

Suga/Yoongi: 

  • Definetly playing the piano and making the boys sing.
  • He totally made the song just for you
  • His wedding vow is a rap. You can’t avoid it.
  • Excited as hell but acts calm. Still he can’t help but smile all day.
  • Namjoon probably breaks something and Yoongi roasts him at the end of his wedding vow
  • Whispering sweet things in your ear whenever he passes by you
  • You need to drag him for your first dance but he secretly loves it
  • he probably practiced really hard with Jimin and Hoseok

Namjoon/Rapmon:

  • Drops the ring in the middle of the ceremory
  • Breaks the flower vase while trying to pick it up
  • Let’s be honest everyone saw it coming
  • The most excited one for the wedding night (ayeeeeeeee ;) )
  • He would send you so many naughty texts on his bachelor party
  • He would be giggling all day like a children
  • It is the classiest wedding ever
  • It probably has a Black&White theme and fancy champagne
  • He isn’t worried one bit. He knows you are meant for eachother.

J-hope/Hoseok:

  • Tears. Tears everywhere. (He would also cry on on others’ weddings too, let’s be real.)
  • The boys are trying so hard to make him stop crying but he is just too happy
  • He would dedicate a dance to you
  • You bet he worked hard as hell to make it perfect
  • And it’s cute but holy shit it makes your knees weak
  • Because of happiness he somehow shines brighter if that is even possible at this point
  • You didn’t know it was possible to have so many flowers at a wedding
  • He is totally sending you hearts as soon as you start walking towards his at the ceremony

Jimin:

  • creates a choreograohy for the two of you to dance to.
  • Boys needs to calm him down every second because “Holy shit what if she changes her mind?!”
  • Eventually you had to go in and calm him down
  • and he refuses to see you at first because he doesnt want any bad luck on his marriage with you
  • A conversation through the wall
  • Busan accent because he is excited and he thinks it makes him manlier
  • he is not manly, he be very soft. Happiest soft ever.

Taehyung/V:

  • He cant sit still, someone help this child
  • Maknae line ripping their asses off to calm him down but all it takes for Suga to say “Calm down, Tae.” and give him a plush toy.
  • He hugs the plush because he really can’t wait to see you
  • until he sees a child that is
  • proceeds to hug the child
  • “Tae please let the kid go. The ceremony is starting”
  • His legs starts shaking and he is smiling so much his cheeks hurt
  • Jungkook is singing for your first dance and holy shit it’s cute as fuck

Jungkook:

  • Namjin is PROUD.
  • Everybody is  happy-sad because “NAMJOON OUR SON HAS GROWN UP SO FAST”
  • Definetly dedicating you songs
  • He would be shy but act cocky as hell because “I am manly enough.”
  • He is so proud to see you in the wedding dress
  • he cant take his eyes off of you because you are the prettiest thing he laid eyes on
  • he let’s you know that a lot
  • Please tell him you love him becaus ehe is scared shitless of loosing you
So From What I'm Hearing...

Is that Day 1 of Aqours’s First Live, Aida, the girl who plays Riko in the series, was a bit nervous because she had to play the piano by herself as everyone danced to the music track and her piano. Now, I would be nervous too if I had to play the piano in front of everyone. But the best part is, she made it through…until day 2.

Day 2, she ended up having a panic attack at the beginning of the song and couldn’t play the piano at all. They stopped the music track and two of the members rushed to her side to calm her down. While this was going on, the audience changed the color of their light blades to light pink and started chanting Aida’s name. She slowly regained herslef and started the whole song over.

This moment should still be in the Blueray because this moment wil be monumental in the Love Live Franchise! It shows the fans respect to the band member and brings light to the problem of panic attacks. Please, Lantis, keep this as a part of the concert Bluray!

A Hero in Black (Part One)

Jughead x Reader

Request: Could you write something about the reader being missing and jughead being really worried. And when he finds the reader they have a really romantic moment and he saves her. But not the typical kind of romance. A jughead kind of romance.

Warnings: Kidnapping, swearing

Word count: 2,728

A/N: Think Brandon’s piece he performs at Idyllwild (The Fosters). That’s the kind of good she’s playing here.  I also tried third person so tell me what you think?? I also got very carried away, so I feel it deserves a second part, since i left the prompt kinda (okay very) unfinished. I can’t help myself, I love a good cliff hanger.


(Y/N) sits at home, playing the electric piano in her room. The grand piano downstairs isn’t tuned correctly, so she has to make due. College auditions are coming up, seeing as she’s a junior, and everything has to be perfect. She has at least three auditions for her top picks, and they are all a little less than two months away. She practices every day, for at least two hours a day with no distractions. Her parents barely even notice she’s there anymore, they’re so busy wrapped up in work and whatever else they have going on they couldn’t care less where she is or what she’s doing. They’re out of the house at bars and friends houses most of the weekday. It sounds worse than it actually is, this way, she can practice as loud as she wants anytime she wants without bothering anyone. She likes it like that.

 She has the music laid out in front of her, but she barely needs to look at it, the piece flows out of her fingers from memory. Her eyes close ever so slightly, really feeling every note and rhythm.

“That’s a really fancy version of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star huh?” a voice makes her jump in her seat, causing her fingers to pound on a horrible combination of keys.

She turns her head to see none other than her best friend, and long-time secret crush Jughead Jones leaning on the window frame as he peeks in the room with his head.

“Actually that was Wheels on the Bus.” she mocks, smiling as she spins around on the piano bench, turning to face him, leaning her elbows on her knees.

She mentally kicks herself, because she almost forgot, it was Wednesday, the day that Jughead always comes to write his novel when she practices.  He says her playing makes him write better, or something, but she can hardly believe it.

He climbs in through the open window and takes a seat on the bench right inside it, flopping his book bag on the floor as he does so.

“Well don’t let me interrupt.” He says, holding his hands up as he leans against the window frame before shoving them in his pockets, their usual location.

She can’t help but smirk as she turns back to the piano, placing her fingers lightly over the keys before picking up where she left off before she was so rudely interrupted.

She leans into your music this time, her whole body moving with the notes, and in that moment she could’ve stayed there forever, surrounded by the sound of keys filling the room. She almost forget someone is in there with her, before hearing a light clapping while hitting the last notes.

She lets out a breath, turning to see Jug smiling at her.

“That was good for a beginner.” he teases, getting up and motioning for her to move over.

She obeys, making room for him on the bench in front of the instrument.

He makes a big deal about cracking his knuckles and waving them a whole bunch before overdramatically placing them on the keys ‘delicately.’ She stifles a laugh, putting a hand over her mouth as she waits for what he’s going to do next.

He raises his hands ever so slightly before coming down fast, pounding several dissonant keys before continuing to play what she can only discern as some awful combination of the two mentioned kids songs.

Her hands reflexively go to Her ears, chuckling at his serious face while plays a few more chords, before he finishes with sliding his hand up to the highest note and back down again.

She slowly drops her hands, only slightly concerned he would continue.

“What, no applause?” he asks, giving her the side eye with a raised eyebrow.

“I think you should stick to the keys of the laptop variety.” She tells him, nudging his shoulder.

“Yeah, right.” he scoffs, getting up and going over to his backpack. He sits on the bench by the window again, pulling out his laptop and opening it, “The Jason Blossom case has stalled for the past few months. They haven’t found anything new. My novel has remained a blank page.” he says, looking at something on his laptop.

“Who cares what the cops are saying, weren’t you doing your own investigation with Betty?” she asks, trying not to sound too jealous or put any emphasis on the question. She has to remind herself that he’s allowed to hang out with other people besides her, even if that includes one of the most beautiful girls in school that she could never compete with.

She knows that he’s been investigating for a long time with her, but strangely he’s never talked about it that much. Her guess is that he doesn’t want to bother her with it, her focus being on music and all. She really wouldn’t mind hearing about it, though.

“Yeah, but that came to a screeching halt when we found the car on fire and Polly came home. She said she didn’t have time, but wished me luck.” he says, pulling up the document the novel is located in. Sure enough, it hasn’t been written in in a few weeks.

“You must have been getting close.” She says, taking the music off of the stand and putting it away in a folder on the floor next to her. She contemplates for a moment on the solution. Jughead is obviously very passionate about this, at least for the sake of his novel, and she doesn’t want him to stop something he loves doing. “What if I help you?” she proposes.

“What? (Y/N)? Really?” that gets him to look up, “but you have those auditions, I can’t rope you into all this.”

“Nonsense. I’ve practiced so much my hands might as well fall off and I’ll still be able to play.” She jokes, earning a small smile from her best friend, “come on, let me help.”

He sits and looks at your for a few moments, adjusting his beanie, a strand of his black hair falling to the side of his face as he does.

It seems like the silence goes on forever, when really it’s probably only a few seconds.

“Okay.” He finally says, “but only when you have actual freetime, not when you’re supposed to be practicing.”

“Deal.” she says with a smile, standing up to join him at the window, “when do we start?”


About two weeks later she is in full on investigation mode, while still practicing every day, her audition dates growing closer by the minute. Jughead still comes over every Wednesday, but she sees him a lot more often now. She’s not opposed, but their Wednesday sessions of just sitting with each other while she plays and he writes still hold a special place to her.

Today, in the early Monday afternoon, she’s  in the room with all of the pictures and connections all over the wall, looking over the latest work. They were getting close, she could feel it.

“So he roped you into this?” She hears someone ask, looking over to see Betty, smiling as her hands are on her hips, raising her eyebrows.

You give her a half smile, “More like I volunteered.” she says with a shrug.

“Why?” Betty smirks, walking over, her blonde ponytail bouncing with the sway of her walk.

“I think you know.” (Y/N) says, crossing her arms in a light-hearted way.

“Enlighten me.” Betty gestures to the board, looking at it with (Y/N).

“I wanted to spend more time with him.” (Y/N) admits, a blush coming over her cheeks. She’s a bit surprised at herself for telling Betty this. They’re not really friends, (Y/N) only know her through Jug. It’s the honest truth, though, and it’s not incriminating for a girl to want to spend more time with her best friend. And a friend of Jug is a she could deal with, she tells herself. She only half believes it, though.

“He talks a lot about you.” Betty says, “he talks about the way you play, the jokes you guys make.” she has a sad smile over her face, like there was something she was just realizing.

“Well you guys are pretty close, too. He practically ditched me to hang out with you.” (Y/N) rebuttals, trying to not sound too sassy about it. She knew it wasn’t Betty’s fault, at least not completely.  

Betty stands there, looking at the floor.

“What’s wrong?” (Y/N) asks, noticing Betty’s change in attitude almost immediately.

Betty takes a few breaths, closing her eyes, taking a few moments before responding, “We kissed.”

“What?” (Y/N) asks, turning towards her. A shock going through her system she wasn’t expecting. That can’t be possible, surely Jug would’ve told her something like that. Her vision begins to spin as she tries to process what she’s heard.

“I -we- Jug. I kissed him.” Betty says again, an apologetic look coming over her face, like she’s done something terribly wrong.

“Oh.” is the only thing that can come out of (Y/N)’s lips, her world shattering around her. There was a sliver of hope before today, just a small one that maybe he would like her back, but now… she wasn’t so sure.

“It was nothing, I swear.” Betty lies, trying to make it feel better, trying to erase the bomb she just gave (Y/N). Betty knows that what happened between her and Jughead was wrong in some capacity. Betty knew that deep down, Jughead wants (Y/N), but Betty can’t help her feelings.

“Sure.” (Y/N) says, brushing Betty aside as she walks out of the room and down the school steps. She needs to get away, she decides, just for today. She needs to disappear for the afternoon to think.

She walks as far as she can away from town, wanting to get some fresh air. She knows that she’s probably being a little over dramatic, but at the same time she doesn’t care. If Jughead is her best friend, why is he still such a mystery?

A car pulls up beside her, but she doesn’t think anything of it. She isn’t concerned with anyone else now.

She hears a window roll down, but she ignores the sound.

Her heart beats are starting to increase, though, making the slow moving car feel like a heavy weight on her chest. There is definitely something fishy going on. She begins to speed up, but the car starts to follow. She slows down, it keeps pace.

She’s afraid to look over now, but out of her peripheral vision she can see a figure in a mask, driving a white van with tinted windows. Of course, the most obvious thing parents tell their children to stay away from.

She closes her eyes for a moment to catch a breath, trying to decide on what to do. She is too far out of town to run all the way back without causing a scene or them catching up. Her phone is in her backpack, and it will be too obvious as to what she’s doing if she tries that.

She’s stuck.

A touch catches her off guard as she spins around, and then doubles over in pain as the man makes a swift punch to her gut. Her backpack falls to the ground, her notebooks falling all over the gravel side of the road.

Before she knows it she’s being thrown in the back of the darkened vehicle, the stench of alcohol and weed filling her nostrils, making her gag. Her hands are tied tightly behind her back with rope before whoever her captor is closes the door, plunging her in darkness.

The car begins to move, and she has a sinking feeling she might be in some deep shit.


Jughead knocks on the bedroom window later the in the week, on Wednesday, of course. He hasn’t seen in her in a few days, seeing as they don’t have any classes together, he assumes she was probably busy practicing and taking a bit of time off from the murder case.

The window is closed, which is unusual. Normally (Y/N) leaves the window open a crack for him, always playing piano. He loves to sit and listen to her play, teasing her and writing when he has the time.

Her playing is one of the only things that can calm him in the midst of dealing with his dad and his novel. Her help with the murder is beginning to lighten the load, it seems like she spends just as much time on making connections as she does making music.

He cups a hand around his eyes as he peers in through the window, looking for a sign of her in the room. There’s nothing, though, which is also odd. He has been coming over every Wednesday since he can remember, since they were little kids. He comes in through the window, always.

He pulls out his phone and opens a text message to her.

‘i need to play my rendition of “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” for you. where are you?’ he writes, pressing send, trying to make it sound as light hearted and not needy as possible. He knows she’s busy, that she may still be doing school work or out running errands, but it’s just so unlike her to not be practicing in her room on a weekday afternoon.

There’s no response, so he waits. He waits for an hour, which turns into two.

Soon it’s sunset, and still no sign of (Y/N).


The next day, Thursday, he approaches Betty.

“I need your help.” he says, making her heart flutter in her chest despite her protests to make it stop.

“What is it?” Betty asks.

“I know you said you don’t want to do any more investigating, but I think (Y/N) is in trouble.” he says under his breath.

“What? No, I just saw her Monday.” she says, pulling the books she is carrying closer to her chest.

“She wasn’t there yesterday. She’s always there on Wednesdays.” he says, a sinking feeling coming over his chest. Deep down, he knew.

“Maybe she forgot?” Betty shrugs. It’s not like she doesn’t care, because she does, she just knows that her and (Y/N) are in rocky territory right now, and she’s not even sure if she could call them friends. She wants to be friends, but knows it probably won’t happen.

“She doesn’t forget.” He argues.

“She’s probably fine, Jug, you’ll probably see her later. Don’t worry about it.” she dismisses him as the bell rings, walking down the hall.

The thing is, he can’t dismiss this feeling. This feeling of trouble.

He adjusts his beanie and begins to make a plan, trying to think like (Y/N) would. He exits the school, walking down the road. He notices a music notebook along the road out of town, and he knows she was there. She must have dropped it, or it must have fell. He looks around, and only then does he notice skid marks driving off the road on the other side of the road. They were fresh, like they had been caused only a few days prior. The tracks continued through the grass, off into the distance.

He contemplates what to do, looking at her stuff once more.

He kneels down and opens the notebook, reading the music notes on the page. On the top, the title of the song read, “A Hero in Black”. Underneath, “for Jughead”. His heart wrenched, looking at all of the marks on the page. It looks as if it’s been redone about a million times, pencil marks everywhere, notes appearing in patterns he can’t understand. There’s a pain in his chest, and suddenly he knows.

It took her disappearing for him to realize, but he likes her, and he needs to tell her. He may be overreacting, but a part of him doesn’t care. Wherever she is, he needs to get to her, in a cheesy-romantic kind of way that kind of makes him of want to vomit, but pulls on his heart like nothing else ever has.

And so, he sets off down the road, not knowing where it’ll take him.


Tag list: @always-chocolate @theselfishllama @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @idle-lanes @xbobaaa @juneb (If you wanna be on my tag list, just ask!)

Part Two Here

anonymous asked:

Do you have any headcannons on hidden talents the tog characters have ?? Like idk singing or dancing or juggling or drawing or making up hilarious limericks on the spot or baking fucking amazing bread or just being really good at frenchbraids ?? I don't really know where I'm going with this I just thought it would be interesting to ask !

I’m including ACOTAR characters too.

Each and every member of the Thirteen is a FANTASTIC singer. On the level of sirens, only everyone is mesmerized by their voices.

Chaol can juggle. He started doing it one say for shits in his office, and found out that he is actually good at it.

Dorian can do the splits. He is actually quite limber.

Cassian quilts. Rhys’s mom taught the boys how to mend their own clothing, but she used to stay up quilting, and Cassian used to help. His brother’s don’t know this. But he can sew a mean quilt. And when Rhys’s mom died, he asked Rhys is he could keep some of her quilts and Rhys let him. He keeps them in a locked trunk in his house. But his favorite one hands on the wall. It’s both a work of art and a memoriam to the only mother he ever knew.

Keep reading

High and Low

this is for soma week 2017 day 1: confession! i asked for prompts and @whos-that-foxi-lady said: “maka being fascinated with the way Soul sings when he thinks no one is listening.” so here you go! warnings for swearing and mentions of blood and an accident.  


She’s hooked on the way he sings when he thinks no one’s listening. Dress skirt bunched up in her hands, she stands a safe distance away from his rolled-down car window, steeping in his voice’s melancholic highs and lows. The moments before he notices her and cuts himself off are brief but glorious and leave her heart full.

In this newfound silence, she offers a gentle smile and takes in his neatly parted hair, pressed blazer, and black bowtie. The vulnerability on his face is divine, a privilege to witness. Her fondness for him deepens even more than she thought it ever could. “Hey, you. You look nice.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Can I climb in?”

“Always.”

Sliding into the passenger seat is instinct to Maka, who probably knows the car better than Soul because she keeps up with its maintenance schedule for him. Together they’ve added roughly twenty thousand miles to the odometer during the last year he’s had it, going on day trips each Saturday, cruising the streets until curfew when one of them wants to get out of their house and needs the other’s company. Even when they’re deep in their own thoughts, they’re together, which is how Maka knows she’s needed right now.

After all, she only catches Soul singing when he’s fighting off an extreme emotion.  

Keep reading

“I had a dream and then I grew up.“

WARNING: Contains La La Land spoilers, please don’t read if you haven’t seen the movie!

I haven’t felt so emotionally invested in a movie for a long time. From the moment I saw full-grown adults hop out of their cars in a LA traffic jam to break into spontaneous song and dance, I knew this was going to be movie that described the lens from which I see the world. 

La La Land is about a musician and an aspiring actress who meet and fall in love in Los Angeles. Seb loves jazz and Mia loves telling stories on stage. Both are struggling to make ends meet but as a team, they give one another the confidence to pursue their individual dreams. 

As their relationship progresses, Seb joins a contemporary Jazz band which gives him the security of money and a stable job. His decision sees him parting ways from his dream of opening a traditional Jazz club. Mia attends one of his sell-out concerts, where she watches him play on an auto-tuned keyboard with a pained look of shock and disappointment. 

As Seb goes on tour with the band, they see one another less and less. One night, Mia returns home to a surprise of a candle-lit dinner prepared by Seb. The romantic night turns ugly as Seb tells Mia that he would be touring with the band ‘for the long haul’, and Mia refuses to tour with Seb because she has to stay in L.A for rehearsals. It becomes apparent that what hurts Mia the most is seeing Seb give up his dream to play music that he hates. Seb is hurt because Mia is unable to compromise her work for the relationship. As they argue about their dreams, they are forced to snap back to reality as the smoke alarm goes off. While Seb tends to a burning oven, Mia walks out. 

Throughout the movie, we see Seb and Mia loving one another in ways that they believe is best. Tragically it tears them apart. For Mia, the pursuit of individual dreams was so foundational to their relationship. From the moment she heard him play piano, she was drawn to Seb’s passion for authentic Jazz, and his relentless zeal empowered her to write her own play. She’s strong-willed and follows her heart. As loveable as she is, we almost forget that she’s flawed, and had no hesitation walking away from her boyfriend as soon as Seb was in the picture. 

Although reserved at first, Seb warms up to Mia’s enthusiasm and undeniable charm. Her down-to-earth personality loosens him up so that they end up singing and tap dancing their way through the night. After overhearing a phone call where Mia’s parents questioned Seb’s financial stability, he made the difficult decision to join a band he hated so that he could have a stable job. While Mia believes that love is enabling the other to pursue their dreams at any cost, Seb believes that love may come at personal sacrifice: 

“This is the dream! It’s conflict and it’s compromise, and it’s very, very exciting!”

The movie tugged on my heart strings because I am, and have always been a dreamer. I remember at 10 years old, I won my school’s singing award and was chosen to audition for a solo at the Opera House. My parents didn’t have the time to take me to the audition so my choir teacher offered me a ride. 

I remember that car ride because it was the first time somebody believed in me and recognised my creative talents. (Also because my teacher’s car didn’t have air conditioning, and I had to use tissues to clear the fogged up windscreen!) I really wanted the role not so much for myself, but to make my teacher proud. Unfortunately when I stood in front of the judges, I was strangled by nerves and my throat closed up. There’s nothing more painful than letting down people who believe in you, whether it be a teacher, parent, friend or spouse. Rejection stings. I felt Mia’s pain at each failed audition immensely. 

Mia: “Since when did you care about being liked?”
Seb: “Oh you’re an actress, you can talk!”

In high school I took dramatic arts very seriously. For my high school certificate, I wrote and performed a monologue called ‘True Beauty’. It was based on the character of the ugly stepsister because deep down, I’ve always felt like a villain without a voice. As someone who had to constantly fight against a stereotype that I could not be (the high-achieving Chinese girl), I wanted to give women who failed to meet cultural norms, a chance to share their story. I got very high marks for this project, but it was also the project that marked the end of my dream. Upon applying for university, my parents told me that Western media would never hire a Chinese girl like me.

“I had a dream and then I grew up.” 

I spent the next 8 years in events and marketing, and while I love my work, I’ve never quite let go of my passion for drama. I still watch theatre with starry eyes, because the stage reminds me of a time when I was pursuing something that I loved. With the encouragement of my husband, I applied for an Australian acting agency and to my surprise, they agreed to offer me representation. My agent and my husband genuinely believe in my potential, and yet instead of jumping at all my audition opportunities, I find myself hesitating. 

My husband shuts down every excuse - I mean, what do I have to lose? The truth is, everything. I love that my husband sees potential in me that I do not see in myself. Much like Mia, his way of loving me is to inject me with confidence and to see me flourish in the way that God has wired me. Like Mia, he would send me straight to Hollywood if the door opened! His knowledge of who I am, and willingness to support my strengths makes me feel incredibly loved. 

But I’ve learned to see love as Seb does. While I have dreams to be an actor, I will make joyful sacrifices to ensure that my marriage is never compromised. Because I love my husband, I am willing to build new dreams. Because my husband is the object of my affection, I have reoriented my goals so that we can have mutual passions. Because my husband is worthy of my respect, I am willing to move cities so that he can live out the life that God has called him to live. 

When you love another person, joyful compromise follows. I will happily turn down acting work if it means that my marriage stays strong and I have the time and energy to support my husband in church work. Some may call it conservative or a waste of an opportunity - I call it love. 

Seb’s character embodies joyful sacrifice. Love for Mia transforms his stubborn Jazz-orientated heart into one of compromise. A life with Mia changed his affections, and redirected is life goals. As Seb and Mia part ways so that Mia can pursue her dream in Paris, Seb makes the promise “I’ll always love you.” 

Seb: “I’ll always love you.”
Mia: “I’ll always love you too.”

It’s the happy ending that the audience longs for, but we all know that relationships are so much more complex than a naive promise that we make to another person before real sacrifices are required. 

This is why the ending is so moving - it’s love in real life. How many of us have made rash promises to another that we simply couldn’t keep? Mia is now a wife to another man, and together they have a child. She stumbles upon a jazz club named ‘Seb’s’ (the name that she had once made up for Seb) and for the first time in 5 years, is reunited with her ex-lover. 

As she walks in and sits down with her husband, she locks eyes with Seb and he carefully plays the tune that had originally drew her into his arms. As the song plays, a musicale montage of Seb and Mia’s perfect life where they pursue their dreams and live happily ever after floods the screen. The ending that is only possible in the movies. 

As the musicale montage fades, we’re left with Mia stepping out of the club and giving one final, but longing look at Seb. The director leaves us with the haunting question: is your dream worth the sacrifice? 

As someone who is hardwired with youthful optimism in a broken world, I found this movie both magical and heartbreaking. To all the fools who dream, you will love La La Land, but make sure you bring some tissues because after all, life is not a musicale: 

Here’s to the ones who dream
foolish as they may seem,
Here’s to the hearts that ache,
Here’s to the mess we make.

Richonniversary thoughts

Remember way back in season 3, when people would laugh at the suggestion that Rick and Michonne might become a couple?

When Michonne bonded with Carl and Judith, she was called a Mammy because it was unfathomable that it was part of a developing love story? 

Remember the romantic piano score played over early Richonne scenes at the prison and how people tried to say it wasn’t romantic lol

I remember talking to @psmith73 about Michonne ships when it seemed like a fantasy that Michonne would actually get a love story in canon but it was fun to think about.

I remember the “oh shit this is really canon” feeling after Clear. I remember the richonne tag celebrating. 

The vindication when some online publication did an article after Clear that was like “OMG maybe those crazy Rick and Michonne shippers are right!” Most of the comments were positive, POSITIVE it would never be anything. 

Remember when it looked like Dixonne might become canon? Remember their runs together and (mostly offscreen) bonding and the jasper and all that? I think Dixonne was bigger than Richonne at one point. I worried about how Daryl fans would react if it happened (I’d been to TWD panels at Wizard World and Daryl stans were the wooorst, the most entitled – sorry, that’s another story). I always rooted for Richonne.

When they started to become a family, and the fandom started seeing them as badass siblings. <eyeroll>

When Rick ripped that Claimer’s throat out with his teeth protecting Carl and it was everything Michonne ever wanted.

When the Grimes family reunited with Judith and the shot included Michonne.

When Rick started looking to Michonne for decisions. When she was the only one he listened to.

More romantic background music.

That dark time we won’t talk about. <Eyeroll> fine, I’ll pretend it was necessary to give Rick closure so he could open himself up to Michonne. Even though it wasn’t. But whatever. At least the whole thing left racists confused and upset.

And then – finally, undeniably canon.

Followed by months of speculation that Michonne was dead (because she had sex with Rick, obvs).

And now, look at them. LOOK AT THEM! Iconic.

Happy Anniversary! <3

City of Stars

A/N Hey there! So wth Dragobete (AKA Romainian Valentines day) coming up, for some reason it has got me in a mood to write a few love stories to get everyone else in a lovey mood. So I was listeing to the La La Land musical? movie sound track (which I am in love with) and I decided to write a Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Imagine bassed off of two (well really one) of the songs which you can listen to here and here Hope you enjoy!

Pairings/ Characters: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Warnings: Nothing fam enjoy your fluff :)

Originally posted by the-ghost-of-utopia

From the momment he saw her walk into Lux, Lucifer knew that there was something there. He felt, what he had heard humans refer to as a spark. Y/N was undeniably beautiful, though not in the traditional sense. She had a more artistic and precise beauty to her. And her voice sounded like the most beautiful musical instrument, soft and gentle. She had walked into Lux, her Y/H/C hair braided in a loose side braid, and a simple knee lenght dress. Compared to the rest of her friends, who dressed in attire Lucifer was all to familer with, Y/N stuck out like a sore thumb.

 Lucifer’s attention was immediatly drawn to her. He waved off the two women who has been fawning over him and made his way accross the loud club. As her friends left to get drinks, Lucifer alked up to her, his heart suddenly beating a million times faster. 

“Well hello there,” Lucifer said, “What may be your name, love?

“Oh hi,” she replied. “Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. And you?”

“Lucifer Morningstar,” He replied. He glanced at the bar where her friends at gone, only to find them not there. Rather they were having the time of their lives with some random men on the dance floor.

“’Would you like to dance with me?” Lucifer blurted out. He quickly regained his compossure when he saw her shocked reaction. “I only meant.. well you’re alone here. Clubs like this are no fun when you’re alone.”

“Oh I m not alone, I am here with a couple of friends,” Y/N started. “They just went over there to…” She said point o the bar. She stopped when she realized they wern’t there. “Oh… well they are here. Somewhere. I don’t intend on staying.”

“Oh come one Y/N,” Lucifer said. He brought his arm arund her back and rested his hand on her shoulder gently guiding her to the dance floor. He pointed at her freinds. “Your friends are having the time of their life by the looks of it. Come on, just give me five minuetes to change your mind. Then you can decide?” he outstretched his hand, hoping she would take it.

Y/N thought for a second, looking at her friends as they laughed and smiled, dancing with men and women that they didn’t even know. And they were having the time of their lives. She smiled softly and took Lucifers hand.

“Fine but only 5 mineutes.” Y/N said.

“Works for me,” Lucifer said as he guided her to the floor.

Even though it was only supposed to be just 5 minetes , it quickly turned into 10. Then 30. Then 1 hour. As time went by Lucifer and Y/N lost count of how long they danced and talked and laughed. By the time they had finished, mainly out of exhaustion, a good bulk of the crowd including Y/N’s friends had gone home for the evening. 

“So, you’re a Jazz player then?” Lucifer asked her as she took another sip of her water. 

“Yep,” Y/N replied. “I have loved Jazz from the momment my father who by the way played trumpet at a local Jazz club, introduced me to it. I just sort of fell in love with it. The smoothness and the feel of it. Everything about it.”

“I see.” Lucifer said. “So you play trumpet as well I assume?”

“No. Actually I play piano.” Y/N replied. “My mouth is apparently to small to play trumpet. But thats okay. I always prefered Piano anyways.” She tookanother drink of her water.

“So what about you, Mr. Morningstar. Is this all you do?” Y/N asked gesturing to the night club around them.

“No,” Lucifer said. “Actually I work with the LAPD. I am a civilian consultent.”

“Hmm, sounds interesting.” Y/N replied. “Have you caught lots of crimminals?”

“Yes and punished them accordingly.” Lucifer said proudly.

“Ok, I’m going to assume that means you just put them behind bars.” Y/N said. She glanced at her smal watch and almost jumped out of her seat.

“Oh shit! Is it really 3 AM?” Y/N exclaimed. She got up quickly and finished her water. “I’ve got to get home. I have an audition in 6 hours. It was lovely meeting you, Lucifer.”

“Agreed, we should do this again.” Lucifer said with a small smile. 

Y/N blushed softly. She then took out a small piece of paper and wrote down her number and handed it to him. “Whenever convient, give me a call.” she said with a small. The she ran out of the doors of Lux, leaving Lucifers heart soaring.

He sighed contently and had a few of his workers close up Lux as he made his way up to the penthouse. He leaned over the railing of the balcomny and stared into the night sky, which was only illuminated by stars. He stared at the small paper in his hands, a small smile playing at his lips.

Here in his hands, he had a chance at something. Something meaningful and perhaps even wonderful. However he was not a fan of heart break and wasn’t exactly boyfriend material. So why bother? Why was he still holding on to her number when he could easily let it go and move on with his life.

He lookd up to the city and began to whistle to him self, playing with the paper in his hands. Looking put to the city, he sang to himself:

“City of stars

Are you shining just for me?

City of stars

There is so much that I can’t see

Who knows?

Is this the start of something wonerful and new?

Or one more dream that I can not make true?”

He looked at her number and decided she was worth the risk. He entered her number into his phone, sent her a quick text and allowed the wind to take the small paper out of his hands and into the Los Angeles skyline.

——————————————————————————

That was a year ago. Since then Y/N and Lucifer’s love had deepened and truely sprouted into something wonderful and new. Y/N life had never been better after Lucifer had texted her that night asking when she would be able to see him again.

 Her heart felt like it was soaring high above everyone and everything else, as if nothing to take down this love. Date after date, night after, her and Lucifer grew into something far more deeper and intimate than just love. There was something else there. Something neither of them could pin.

By the time they had been dating for 8 months, Y/N had asked Lucifer who he really was, as she didn’t really believe any parent would name their son Lucifer. And he had trusted her. Enough to show her his true form. And although the initial shock had taken time to get over and understand, it didn’tchange the way Y/N felt about him.

 Lucifer also revealed hat Mazikeen, his bartebder who goes by Maze was actually a demon and Ammenadiel was his brother and an angel. And Charlotte Richards, an attoerny Y/N disliked heavily was actually lucifers mother AKA the mother of all creation. And yet. she had taken all of this infomation in rather well. After that, there was a whole new level of trust between them. One that would be hard to break and even harder to mend if broken.

Y/N walked into Lux, her music bag slung over her shoulder and her Y/H/C hair up in a messy bun. Maze was cleaning the counter behind the bar. Y/N approached her, setting her bag in one of the chairs. 

“Hey Maze,” Y/N greated. “Didn’t expect to see you here. I thpoight you had moved in with Chole last month?”

“I did. Just felt like coming back. Couldn’t stand being around that tiny human any longer.” Maze replied. Y/N nodded, sensing Maze’s dislike for children.

“Oh, Lucifer asked you to meet him in the penthouse. Said he needed to show you something up there.” Maze informed her. 

Y/N was slightly confused but went along with it. She picked up her music bag and began making her way up to the penthouse, bidding Maze goodbye as she did so.

Originally posted by mametupa

With a pleasent ding the elevator opened, revealing Lucifer sitting at his piano playing a lovely tune. Y/N smiled and watched him for a second. She had always loved watching him play. He just seemed so at peace with everything around him, as if the rest of the world just faded away.

Y/N walked up to him and wraped her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder as he continued to play. She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and watched his hands dance on the piano keys.

“I haven’t heard that one before.” Y/N said.

“That’s because I have been writting it for you,” Lucifer replied. Y/N raised her eyebrow. She slid next him on the piano bench at the high end.

“Show me then,” Y/N asked.

“Well I’m not done yet love,” Lucifer Morningstar. 

“Then I’ll help you finish it.” Y/N told him. Lucifer smiled and began to play the tune again. 

“City of stars

Are you shing just for me? 

City of stars

There’s so much that I can’t see

Who knows?

I felt it from the first embrace I shared with you” Lucifer sang stopping on a high, as if to invite her to play. Y/N didnt deny the invitation and began to play on the high end.

“That now our dreams they’ve finally come true.

City of stars 

Just one thing everybody wants

There in the bars

And through the smoke screens of the 

Crowded resturants

It’s love

Yes all we’re looking for is love

From someone else.” Y/n looked to Lucifer, letting him know it was his turn to sing.

“A rush,” He sang

‘A glance,” She countered

‘A touch” 

‘A dance”  They both shared a looked as they played a little louder and cresendoded into the next verse as Lucifers vocals took over, with Y/N joing in where she could..

‘A look in sombody’s eyes

To light up the skies

To open the world and send it reeling

A voice that says I’ll be here and you’ll be alright

I don’t care if I know 

Just where I will go 

Cause all that I need is this crazy feeling

A rat-tat-tat on my heart.” They finished together. 

“Think I wanted to stay,” Lucifer sang as he went back to the original begining melody, Y/N getting off the piano to let him finish it out.

City of stars

Are you shining just for me?

City of stars” He sang as he added a trill to the higher note, giving her the last word. Y/N smiled and looked him the eye. 

“You’ve never shined so brightly.” Y/N finished softly.

Lucifer finished the song and looked at her. “So? Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” Y/N said. Lucifer leaned in and stole a soft but passionate kiss.

“Happy anniversary love,” He said.

‘Happy anniversary Lucifer.”

Cassian (& Nesta) Headcannon

This got a bit…. long

Concept:

•Cassian, with his 500 years of living, has picked up how to play some musical instruments out of curiosity
•BUT, he’s never really played in front of or for anyone
•His favorite instrument is definitely the piano
•He just- he loves the way the chords flow together and the sounds that resonate in a room even after he’s stopped pressing down on the keys
•He loves to lose himself in the notes; to let everything in him be consumed by the way music affects him so intensely
•So one day, Cass is in the House of Wind or something when everyone else is gone doing their own thing
•He’s wandering around and just so happens to walk past one of his favorite rooms, where his beloved piano is bathed in golden sunlight in this open, airy balcony, music room type of thing
•And his fingers twitch as his side, yearning to create melodies long since suppressed, considering he hasn’t played in what seems like forever
•So he gently crosses the room and sits down on the bench; runs a hand lovingly across the lid of his piano before placing his fingers tentively on the ivory keys
•And with a deep breathe to calm his nerves, he begins to play
•It’s messy at first; years of not playing has caused his brain to muddle his usual technique, but he still continues, pushing on
•Slowly, slowly, the notes start to come out smoother
•Memories and notes come back to him in waves; his fingers dancing across the keys in excitement, having almost forgotten how good it feels to release his emotions and craft them into something beautiful
•He remembers now, why he started learning to play piano in the first place
•He remembers: a younger Cassian wandering around Velaris, centuries ago, and hearing something that stopped him in his tracks
•It was music- a type he’d never heard before; music that burrowed itself in his skin and settled along his bones
•So he followed that sound, coming to a shop with its door open, and peered in to see an older woman sitting at a piano bench
•He watched her for a few moments, losing himself in the movement of her hands- how intricate the chords seemed to be, and he wanted it so bad- wanted to know how to create something as breathtaking as that
•So after her musical piece came to an end, he approached her, swallowing his pride to get out the following breathless words, “Can you- can you teach me?”
•From then on, he would go to that little shop to be taught the ways of the massive instrument
•She taught him & he learned to know which pedals to push and how long to hold each note; how to build a piece higher and higher until the crescendo shattered into existence, all from the tips of their fingers
•Eventually, when he was quite advanced in learning and playing after months of practice, the woman told him that her job was done, all that was left was for him to create his own music instead of learning hers
• “You have so much inside of you,” she had said, gently pressing a palm to his heart. “You must take all those deeply buried feelings and let them out. Forge them into something useful, something that brings you peace instead of turmoil. You must understand that music is your companion, it will be there when all else is lost. Don’t forget to share your burdens, your happiness, your sorrow, with the one thing that will never betray you.” With that, she had taken the hand that was still on his chest and placed it on her magnificent piano, letting her own memories sweep her into an inviting embrace as Cassian quietly left for the day
•A few weeks later, as Cassian was making his way back to the old lady’s piano shop for a visit, he walked in to find the place empty- all except the piano they had played on together for hours on end
•And as he made his way over to the instrument, he found a note laying on top of it saying, “She is now yours, and she is your friend. Treat her well.”
•Cassian has never seen her again, but the memory of her will live on with him for as long as he’s alive
•So now, he is currently sitting still at the House of Wind, having lost himself in the memories of his earlier life, and he just - starts crying
•Like, it hits him so hard and he misses the old woman who taught him how to play and he wants to go back to the time where everything was not quite so hectic; before Amarantha and the King of Hybern and all the wars that he has fought in
•He wants to go back to the time where his soul wasn’t so heavy, even though he has never experienced a time where he’s been completely light hearted
•Not until her
•With that thought, his silent tears instantly slow until they stop
•Nesta
•When he’s with her, everything seems so simple
•Although she’s a pain in the ass a lot of the time, he wouldn’t have it any other way
•He recalls a past conversation with Rhysand, where his brother had confessed to him that when Feyre and him had first gone to the Summer Court, Feyre had told the High Lord Tarquin that, “It would be very easy to love you.” Rhys had been a wreck whenever it came to his mate (during the time she didn’t know she was his mate yet)
•But those words had stuck with Cassian for a while
•It is very, very easy to love Nesta
•With that notion, and feeling of love in his heart, he begins to play again
•But this song is slow, peaceful, and effortless
•He let’s his heart compose this piece, as his hands do the work
•The music is lovely, resembling the most cherished of his feelings
•And Cassian can’t help but memorize it; he knows it’s dedicated to his love- to Nesta
•And after this afternoon is over, and he has created the most graceful tune he has ever played, he knows he has to show her
•So when the opportunity arrives a week or two later, and Nesta & Cassian are alone, he brings her to his music room, and plays the piece he crafted for her
•And she knows, can feel it deep down in her soul, that the music he plays for her is for her ears alone
•She cherishes it, loves it, spills more than a few tears over it
•Cassian is so nervous and anxious because this is his first time showing someone this part of him, this love for piano
•But Nesta just comes over to sit next to him on the bench, and leans her head on his shoulder as she gently grabs his hand and entwines her fingers with his
•And he’s just silent, so full of happiness and he’s content and he’s proud to have a woman like Nesta in his life
•He tentively asks her, “Do you like it?”
•She turns her head to peer up at him, her eyes shining silver, “It’s perfect.”
•And the purest smile appears on his face and it just breaks her heart and mends it back together again all in the same instant and she leans in to kiss him
•And the kiss is slow and extraordinary, and it reminds them that they have the rest of their immortal lives to be with each other, and even in death they will not be separated