#how to read chord charts

[50shadesofoctarine]

Fun fact about me:

I offer free music tutorship for kids who can't afford (/their parents won't pay for) lessons. I make them all hand-written info booklets to use each session and I thought I'd share what I'm working on for tomorrow (it's my first lesson with a new kid)

They wanted to learn Riptide. (Which is great for me, 'cause it's damn easy).

[sunset-curve-fantom]

I Can See You- Spencer Reid x Reader

Y/N knew something was wrong but knowing Spencer he was not going to share it. His feelings are something he did not wish to share with the group, and Y/N had grown to accept that part of him. But the tension that crossed his features was something that struck a chord in Y/N.  

Since Y/N had joined the BAU, Spencer and her had become thick as thieves. From the moment he saw her copy of The Odyssey, they were glued together. But these moments of tension and unease were new to their friendship. It was something that started happening after prison. Y/N knew he was trying to find his way back, to still be the same Spencer even though things are ever changing. 

Y/N’s shoulder grazed his softly as she looked over the case file, this case came in late Friday night and the team had been working nonstop since. The tension was high with everyone trying to solve this case, but even more so the tension in Spencer was off the charts. 

"I can see you, are you okay?" she murmured leaning into his personal space. The gentle concern clear in her tone. 

His dark eyes met Y/N’s, like he was trying to figure out what to say, or more so how not to say what was going on. He knew whether he gave a straight answer, she would be able to read him like a book, she had always had that ability.  

“I’m fine” he murmured continuing to read the case file in front of him. The one thing she knew is the man who sat in front of her was not fine. In the years she had known him, she saw him through everything. Maeve, to the depression after her death, to his mom and her disease, but the biggest thing was prison. 

The more she visited him, the more he filled her heart. Without a shred of doubt, she loved that man day in and day out. Y/N vividly remembers going with JJ and Penelope to pick him up. The way his face lit up when he saw her standing there, tears filling her eyes as he held her close. The way he held her like she was going to disappear. The way she thought he loved her too. 

A graze of her arm brought her back to reality, “you, okay?” Spencer murmured as he sat another cup of coffee in front of her as her eyes re-fixated on the case in front of her. One thing he understood about her was her need for coffee was just as bad as his- with less sugar. 

A small thank you passed her lips as she took a sip, before turning back to him. “I can see you; something is going on. I know you don’t like to talk but I’m here if you need anything”  

He just watched you as you spoke, giving you a swift nod as he returned to his work. A sign escaped your lips as you got up, setting down her coffee. You just needed a minute, because if you sat there with him any longer you were going to explode and demand to know what is wrong. 

Y/N rounded the corner out of the conference room, running into JJ. 

Her eyebrow arched when she saw the frustration that crossed her face, even more so evident in her furrowed brows.  

“Are you okay?” JJ asked, looking at Y/N and then through the window of the conference room. 

The same frustrated look was crossing Spencer’s face as he tried focusing on the case file in hand.  

She gave her a knowing look, inciting her to spill. 

If anyone knew her better than Spencer, it was JJ. She could read every emotion that crossed Y/N’s face, never needing to speak a word. 

“I just... I don’t want him to feel alone. I can see that something is going on. I... I just want him to talk to me. I know he doesn’t want to talk, but I can see it and I don’t know what to do” she said, tears beginning to cloud her vision. 

“Hey, he’s gonna be okay. It’s Spencer” JJ murmured pulling Y/N into a hug. Tears streamed down her face. “It’s because he is Spencer, that I know he is not okay” 

Wiping her cheeks as she pulls away, she spoke softly, “I just need a break, I am going to run back to the hotel for a quick nap”  

JJ gave you a brief nod, “I will let Hotch know. Take it easy, okay?” 

Y/N briefly nodded before throwing on her coat and grabbing her purse off the desk. 

On the short walk back to the hotel, she thought of all the moments of Spencer and her over the years. Like how she camped outside his apartment with Penelope’s gift baskets after Maeve. Knowing he shouldn’t be alone, but didn’t want to bother his bubble of grief. She had sat outside his door for 2 days before he opened, not wanting to be alone anymore.  

She laughed when she remembered going to a Doctor Who convention with him, she only went with him because she didn’t want him to go alone. Low and behold the both of them ran into Rossi outside the convention center. Y/N would never forget the look on Rossi’s face that day. 

Tears filled her eyes when she remembered his Dilaudid addiction after being kidnapped on a case. How she would crash on his couch for weeks on end if he had the urge to use. The nights where he would wander out in the middle of the night, to make sure he wasn’t alone. The way he would curl up on the couch with you, just so he didn’t feel so lost.  

She reached her hotel in no time, spending the whole time with Spencer playing in her mind. The door creaked as she pushed it open, just sitting down on the bed.  

A sigh escaped her lips as she laid back. Her phone dinged multiple times. 

Spencer: Where did you go? 

Spencer: Why did you leave? JJ told me. 

Of course she did.  

Spencer: I am on my way. 

Another sigh left her lips, dreading the inevitable.  Spencer knew her just as well as she knew herself. She was concerned about him, and now he was concerned about her. 

A soft knock came at the door. She carefully got up and opened it.   

There stood Spencer, running his hand through his longer hair, “Can I come in?” 

She stood to the side, opening the door more so he could step into the room. Sunlight bled through the curtains, lighting the room with the evening sun. Silence fell over the room, as she stared at her feet.  

“Why did you leave?” He murmured softly standing in front of her, bringing his hand to run down her arm. Electricity pierced her skin as he touched her softly. 

Her eyes met his, trying to read his features. “I can see you. Something is going on; I left so I didn’t explode on you. I know you don’t want to talk to me” 

He sighed, with a hand running down his face. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk. I just don’t know how to do this” 

A confused expression crossed her features, “Do what? Spence it’s me. I have been by your side for years and now you can’t talk to me? What is going on?” 

Tears began clouding her vision, as her mind raced trying to find the words, trying to find what he didn’t want her to know. 

He stepped closer, wiping the tears that began to fall onto her cheeks. This isn’t how he wanted this conversation to go- 

“Fuck... no I just- You are my best friend” the words fell out of his mouth piercing her heart instantly. Best friend, nothing more. 

“No- fuck I am messing this up. We both know getting out of prison has been a hard adjustment for me. I just- I have found it hard falling back in the routine of my every day outside of a place that was hell, a world of solitude. Yes, there is something going on, and you see it because you know me. And you- you see me as a person. Not odd, not an outcast. Me. You see every part of me and embrace me no matter what the day brings. And- ah fuck. I love you. I love you so much my heart aches. You are hands down the most beautiful person I have ever met. You make the world brighter, the way it just radiates off of you. It brings the whole world into a different perspective. You make me want to be better even on my best days. You are my entire world, and I just need you to know this because I know you can see something is wrong. I love you so much, my heart is physically going to explode- not literally because that’s not possible but you understand what I mean-”  

Her lips cut him off as he started rambling, it took him a minute, but he began kissing her back softly. His hands cupping her face, and he tasted the saltiness of her tears.  

She pulled back, “You. Spencer Reid. I love you with everything that I am.” A soft smile of adoration crossed her face, as she pulled him into another kiss. 

The kiss was soft but intense, every kiss leading into the unknown ahead. But it was worth every boundary broken. 

She broke the kiss, leading him to the bed. Pushing him down, straddling him gently. He kissed her intensely as she began to rock his hips against his. She could feel his stiff cock with every roll of her hips. His hands roamed her body, bringing her close to him while taking the time to admire every piece of her.  

He stood up flipping them, her pink cheeks catching his attention as he leaned into her ear. “Can I?”  

She briefly nodded, feeling his hands travel down to her waist. His hands quickly undoing the button of her pants, slowly pulling them down her legs. A soft moan escaped her lips as she felt his breath on her cunt. The wet spot on her underwear made her squirm. 

“Stop moving” He murmured, fingers starting to loop around her underwear, pulling them down. “Make me” she murmured back as she felt his fingers trail up towards her cunt. 

He chuckled, sending her a look that could make one see stars. His breath was hot; she moaned as she felt his tongue brush against her clit. Her body squirming at the intrusion.  

His arm came up and held her hips down to prevent squirming. “I told you to stop moving” 

He settled his body in between her spread thighs; his tongue tracing circles around her clit.  

“Oh god” she breathed out, feeling the butterfly feeling in her stomach starting to build.  

His fingers made their way into your opening, pushing two thick fingers inside. Milking an oncoming orgasm while his tongue picked up pace. He could feel her body reacting to his movements. 

Her hips gently thrusted up into his face, trying to reach her peak. The room was buzzing with the feeling between the two of them. A connection that they haven’t been able to reach until right now.  

Her hand reached down weaving her fingers through his hair and pulling as she exploded on his tongue. He continued licking every bit of her orgasm as she came down.  

A dorky smile crossed his features as he crawled up her body, kissing her softly as her hands found their way into his hair. She pulled away staring at him, before speaking softly.  

“I think you are wearing too many clothes” 

He smirked before getting off the bed, eagerly shedding his clothes. First his top, gently pulling it over his head. Exposing his chest, she watched him with a dopey look on her face. Smiling as her eyes followed his chest hair all the way down to wear it met his pants.  

He carefully un-did his pants, taking his boxers with them. His cock was thick and hard, felt heavy in her hand as she reached out to grasp it. Wanting nothing more than to be choking on it, as her eyes watered.  

He gently grabbed her hand, murmuring “next time”. 

She shot him a smile, “Oh, you’re expecting a next time?” 

He shot her a smirk, pushing her back on the bed and pushing his cock deep into her. A gasp escaped her lips as her nails created a pattern on his back.  

He buried his head in her neck as his hips began to snap into her. 

“I couldn’t wait” He moaned. Knowing you both needed this kind of release. The pace he began setting was out of this world. Moans escaping the both of them as they both felt orgasms building.  

“God you’re so tight Y/N” he moaned, the sound of his hips meeting hers filling the room. Her cunt tightening around him as he kept a steady pace.  

Her eyes went wide, “I’m gonna....” she moaned, her cunt spasming as her orgasm took over all her features. She squeezed his cock hard. He moaned loudly as his hips started to stutter and lose rhythm.  

His grip on her hips began to tighten as he filled her. His warm seed flooding into her as he continued to fuck her. He collapsed on top of her, both of them breathing deeply.  

Before she let out a laugh, he gave her a look of confusion. 

Her hand reached up and caressed his face, “I told you I can see you, next time just talk to me” 

He chuckled, “Well I can see you too, and I think we found a new way of talking” 

[dammn-dean]

Unexpected Pt. 2

Pairing: Simon Riley x Female Reader

Words: 2700+

Warnings: Pregnancy, vague birth talk, mild panic attack, if I missed anything sorry

(Honestly I have given birth in a hospital, but it was complicated so I didn't get to experience a normal after birth situation. So if this is incorrect, sorry!)

Here is part two🖤 Hope you all enjoy it! It's a bit short, and sweet. I do plan on doing some blurbs/continue eventually. Thank you all for reading!

Part One

Beautiful art/rendering from @ave661

The next few moments are a blur to you both, for different reasons. Simon parks the car in front of the emergency entry, barely allowing for the car to come to a complete stop before he’s out of the car. You barely register as he slides on a black surgical mask when he comes around the car to open your door. Next thing you know he’s leading you inside, talking to a woman at the front desk and getting you into a wheelchair. You are filling out some paperwork as you are wheeled through the hospital, in between contractions that are consistently spaced apart now. 

Simon keeps murmuring small words of encouragement to you, but he’s scared shitless. Pretending to be brave in this moment for you, yet he feels anything but brave. 

There are a lot of questions that you give answers to as best you can. Simon can barely keep up… there is so much moving around and plans being spoken between nurses. The next thing he knows you are in a hospital bed, donning a gown, being told your doctor should be here within 5 to 10 minutes. 

“I’m going to check your dilation now, okay?” A young and sweet woman that is apparently your nurse for now speaks up. 

You just nod your head, watching as she gets the stirrups ready for your feet to go in. Once ready she guides your feet to the correct sport before reaching for a pair of gloves. 

You glance up to Simon, who is as quiet and still as a ghost. Standing to the left of your bed, fists clenched so tight you wonder if his fingers are going to lose feeling soon. 

“Si?” You question. 

That breaks his stone resolve. It was like a switch flipped in him, as he forced his mind to catch up with what was happening. 

He finally tore his eyes away from the nurse as her hand began to disappear under your gown. When his eyes fell to you and your outstretched hand he immediately grabbed your smaller hand into both of his large ones. Kissing the back of your hand through the material of the mask. 

“You ‘kay love?” Simon was gentle, from his touch to his tone. 

“Yes… just a little uncomfortable,” you said just above a whisper. 

“I bet so sweetheart.” He brought a hand to brush some hair back from your face. “You are doing great,” he encourages you. 

“Looks like you are about 5 centimeters dilated! Great news mom and dad.” The nurse tore off her gloves and put them in the trash before typing away on the computer in the room to update your chart. 

Simon felt all of the air rush out of his lungs. Dad?? How did he not think before that he was about to be a dad. Sure… he understood what was happening, but there was something about hearing this nurse call him dad that struck a chord with him. His ears filled with static and he stiffened all over again. 

You watched as his pupils shrunk, he pulled his hands from you and stood straight as a board beside you. 

“Simon?” You softly called to him. Nothing. 

His eyes were trained on the wall behind the nurse who was innocently typing away on the computer. 

You called for him two more times, watching his chest speed up with more and more rapid breaths. You said his name one more time quite loudly, which got the nurses attention. She looked up at him, staring past her and noticed the signs of a panic attack blooming in him. 

Simon wasn’t in the room with you now, his mind lost on his past. 

“Sir?” The nurse gently started working her way to him. 

Before she could fully make it to him, a contraction started up for you again. You wailed out in pain, and as quick as Simon zoned out and started panicking he stopped. Hearing your pain pulled him from his dark mind. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, truly embarrassed. 

“It’s okay sir,” the nurse spoke softly. “Would you like to sit down for a moment?”

“I’m fine, just make sure she’s okay.” He left no room for argument. 

Resuming his spot at your side, ignoring whatever that was just happening to him. He gently kissed your hairline through the mask again while speaking to you sweetly until the pain subsided. Once your breath had started evening out your tired eyes fell onto Simon. The nurse nodded at him before finishing typing what she needed and mentioned the next steps that would be happening before excusing herself from your room for a moment. Her words went in one of your ears and out the other for you.

“You okay?” You asked, squeezing his hand this time to comfort him.

“Don’t you worry about me, love,” Simon said apologetically. 

You gave him a nod, but internally you were freaking out about his reaction. Your mind rolled back a few moments before he started panicking, trying to figure out what happened. 

Simon has had a few moments in your time together where certain things trigger him, which is beyond understandable. The memory of the nurse calling you mom and dad moments before finally registering with you. That small thought had your heart instantly feel heavy, and not in the best way. 

You felt your eyes get glossy, this same feeling of shame bursting through your chest. Your mind reminding you how unfair this all is to him, he never got the choice about IF he wanted to be a father… hell you didn’t even give him a notice that he was going to be a dad. Your brain was all muddled, but the only thing standing out to you is that you can’t remember why you never told him. It all seemed so silly now, who cares if you had an argument. Who cares that he was working. It was your responsibility to tell him that you were pregnant, to let him know that he was going to be a dad, and especially to give him the option to be involved or not. 

You gently removed your hand from his, allowing it to fall into your lap with your other hand. Eyes falling to your lap, unable to stop the tears from falling and trying your best to shield them from Simon. Even though you knew he would notice, how could he not?

“Are you hurting? Want me to call for the nurse?” Simon got the words out quickly, reaching for the button to call the nurse.

“No.. I’m okay,” you whispered with a shrug.

His brows frown down at you, clearly you aren’t okay. Your small sniffles provide proof of that. Simon’s spine straightened, eyes taking you in as his mind moved a mile a minute trying to come up with a solution. 

“Do you remember at the apartment, the promise you made me?” Simon asked softly.

You sniffled out a small “Yeah..”

“That if you have something you need to tell me, you will do it. Yeah?” 

You nod your head softly before meeting his eyes briefly.

“What is it baby?” He asked, hand reaching into your lap and interlocking your fingers together.

“I’m just so sorry,” you respond quietly. “And I know you told me to stop saying sorry but I truly am.”

“Love,” Simon began, but you cut him off. “I didn’t give you the opportunity to come to terms with all of this. I just sprung it all on you, and-”

Simon knelt beside you, making him eye level with you. 

“Do I wish I would have known before? Sure love… but mainly because I hate you have done all of this alone. It eats me alive. I am supposed to be the one taking care of you, but I was selfish. Never made sure you knew what you were to me. I will never let that happen again, okay?”

“Then what just happened to you?” You whisper. His hazel eyes squint a little, but they never leave yours. 

Simon was silent for a while which heightened your anxiety. That’s when the beginnings of another contraction started. Your hand squeezing Simon as you rode through the pain. You barely register his voice, soft and sweet, talking you through the pain.

“Don’t you worry about that sweetheart, but after this. And we have our baby… I will be sure to explain everything to you okay? All you need to know is I am here, and I can’t wait to be a father to our child.” Simon knew he owed an explanation, but now wasn’t the time.

Simon tugged his mask down enough so he could press a kiss to your hairline while using his free hand to wipe away the last few tears from your wet cheeks.

“Good evening,” your doctor enters the room and announces himself. 

Simon gently clears his throat as he straightens the mask on his face before standing up to take his proper place beside you.

You didn’t feel 100% better, but knowing he would explain more. You fixed your mental state as much as you could, you knew this way was about to be the toughest thing you have been through. 

There was some small chat between your doctor, Simon and you. Talking about the birth plan, checking your dilation, planning the next steps as well as you could. Before you know it you are pushing, and pushing. Simon is next to you the entire time, feeding you ice chips and doting on you constantly. “You are doing so good, lovie.” - “There you go, my strong girl, you got this.” - “You are so perfect, sweetheart.” - “Almost there love, you are doing great.”

Somewhere between the tears, the pain, the constant pressure and with help from nurses and doctors. You hear cries. Your body feels instant relief, and the joy that bursts across your chest is unlike anything you have ever felt. Your eyes fall to Simon, he’s standing stiff as a board. Eyes never leaving the newborn as the nurse gently cleans the baby’s body as the doctor finishes up with you. Before you know it they are gently laying your baby onto your chest.

“Congratulations mom… a beautiful healthy baby girl!” The nurse whispers excitedly to you as she pulls your hands back, ensuring you have the baby. 

You can’t hold back the few tears that fall, “She’s a girl.” 

Your nose taking in her smell, your lips gently brushing her head. A perfect baby girl. After a few moments of silence, you look for Simon. His hands shoved in his pockets, standing to your side, eyes on your baby girl. 

“We have a baby girl, Si.” You can’t help the smile on your lips. 

Simon’s chest rose and fell rapidly, taking everything in. He was a father to a baby girl. 

“She’s so small,” Simon comments softly. 

“She sure is,” you praised. “And perfect.” Your finger found her hand, letting it wrap around your finger. You looked at the small amount of hair on her head, her eyelashes, her cheeks, her fingers, just taking her all in. After about 5 minutes of silence, a nurse speaks.

“Congratulations you two, would dad like a turn holding her?” She asked politely as she reached for your daughter.

“Here Si,” you encouraged. Gently handing the baby to the nurse. Watching her carefully as she took the baby from you, walked around the bed to Simon and she patiently stood in front of him. 

Simon of course wanted to hold her, but she was tiny. He had only really ever been around one baby before, his nephew and he couldn’t for the life of him remember him being this small. His blurred eyes took in her features, she was beautiful. 

“I uh-” he cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I can. She’s so small and I’m so-” he gestured to himself. Clearly uncomfortable with the idea of his hulking frame, meant for killing to hold this sweet innocent baby. His sweet innocent baby girl. 

“You can hold her, just trust me, you can do it” you encouraged. “Look at me Simon.”

He almost had to force his eyes from your daughter so he could look at you. Your sweet face, eyes tired but shining happily, encouraging him. You almost took his breath away, beautiful as ever. If you believe in him, maybe he should believe in himself.

“I love you, you can hold her. Look at her Si, our daughter, she wants her daddy.” You swallowed hard, not entirely sure if that is what he needed to hear or not.

Barely a moment went past before he held his hands out towards the nurse. She showed him exactly what to do, she never let go of the baby until she was certain that he was ready. Before you knew it there he was, as still as he had ever been, barely even breathing as he held her. 

You couldn’t believe it, seeing her tiny body being held by such a mass, that is Simon. A singular hand of his is almost the size of her whole body. You felt warmth bloom across your chest watching him with her. The way his stiff shoulders eventually relaxed more. How he leaned into her, smelling her tiny head, followed by whispers you couldn’t hear. 

“I can’t believe I have a daughter,” Simon chuckles out with a wet laugh. “I am so proud of you baby.” He then turns to you, “You did amazing.” 

Brown eyes filled with unshed tears hold onto yours that are allowing tears to fall freely. “We did amazing, Si…” you said truthfully. “Just look at her, she’s as much me as she is you.” 

Simon pulled his eyes back to the sweet baby in his arms. “Yeah I guess so, huh?” He could even see that the tiny wisps of hair on her head were definitely the exact shade of his. 

It was then the nurse popped back up, “And what are we naming her mom and dad?” She asked innocently. 

How have you both forgotten you need a name for the baby? 

“Uh- well we haven’t quite decided yet,” Simon answered quickly. 

“That’s perfectly okay! No rush,” she responded politely. “Let’s finish getting her and mom all cleaned up. Then I’ll get you to your room. How does that sound?” 

Simon looked at you, you nodded at him with a grin. 

“Sounds great, thank you.” He responded politely. 

The nurse went back to him to grab your daughter, hands out waiting. Only Simon didn’t budge. His eyes were solely focused on the baby in his arms. 

“Sir?” She questioned gently. 

Simon almost startled before looking at her, then down at the baby again, and back to the nurse. 

“I just need her for a little bit, then you can have her back. How does that sound?” 

Simon actually grumbles, no words, just grumbles. 

Fuck, you love him. “Simon,” you almost laugh. “Let the nurse have her baby.” 

He doesn’t give in immediately, a minute or so passes before he huffs and gently hands her over to the nurse. 

“Thank you…” the nurse smiles at him. “The doctor will be right back to assist you with another nurse. I’ll meet you both in your room.” She turns to you. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you say to her, eyes not leaving the baby. 

A moment goes by and you turn your head to Simon to find his eyes already on you. Nothing but pure adoration for you. 

“You’re going to be the best daddy ever,” you whisper to him truthfully. 

“I can only promise you that I will give it my all,” Simon says honestly. Hand nervously touching the back of his neck. “I only wish to give you both the best life possible.” 

Both of your eyes are unwavering, holding each other trying to convey emotions you can’t quite say out loud. You aren’t naïve, you know this will be hard, of course raising a human together won’t be easy. If there was anyone in the world you would be willing to go through this with, it was Simon. 

“I know this was all… unexpected, but I don’t think I have ever felt happier than I feel at this moment. Right now.” 

“Ditto, love.” You can hear his smile. “Ditto.” 

Tags: @daemondoll @mileyraes @axoleos @arminarlertssword @wawuwe @cxltblood @mrflyingbanana03 @itsmytimetoodream @arminarlertssword @mrssabinecallas @babygirl-riley @gplol @yuly

Thank you for reading! If you have an idea or request for where they go from here, feel free to send 🖤

[shostposting]

Fun Facts about Dmitri Dsch Shostakovich

Dimitri “Shosty” Shostakovich is one of most the esteemed composers of the 20th century. But Did you know he actually…

Wrote music

Lived in the 19th century

Topped the USSR charts for 12 weeks in a row

Smoked 500 cigarettes a day

Composed his first piano piece when he was 2

Was fluent in Russian

Read three (3) books

Was arrested for making music

Wore clothes made entirely out of his own music

Taught his cat how to speak fluent Russian

Literally invented Football

Encoded a specific motif into his music that scientific researchers have found to actually be his musical pronouns in the music (D-S-C-H)

Played chords on the piano one time and everyone got pissed off at him because he kept playing chords and he got arrested for playing piano chords

Found popularity due to the use of his controversial “Waltz No. 2” in 1926 due to its inclusion in hit film “Goncharov”

Had a friend who once kept eating pies full of ants it was like a whole thing

Was a rapper for 2 years

Created the world’s first “music notation software”

Had hair that everyone thought to be black due to the nature of black and white photographs, but that is incorrect. His hair was actually blue

Killed countless Nazis with his psychic powers

Wrote video game soundtracks

Kicked out of Heaven for writing music

Famously boycotted Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza

Had a diet consisting entirely of the 6 billion metric tons of hate mail he received twice a day

Pirated Disco Elysium

Kept turning everyone gay on accident

had His NOSE FELL OFF it kept FALLING OFF

Made Hitler cry

Was brazillian and kept yelling “Уауw, тхат wас а гуд пиеce оф мусик! И ам а геныус!” whenever he composed

Served cunt

Was killed by the government on two separate occasions

Wrote an opera one time and nobody fucking cared

Played Solitaire (Windows 7)

Spent every day sitting around doing fuck all

Was openly bisexual

Killed Joseph Stalin

He wa the best composer ever of all time…

[whimsicalpolitical]

what about girlie with either ross or matty who wants to learn how to play bass or guitar but is afriad to ask matty or ross so when shes alone she plays their insturment and tries to teach her self and then one day either ross or matty find her doing it?

matty had been out all day, off with the boys doing whatever it is they did when they were together—probably drinking, probably smoking, probably talking shit. and you didn’t mind, really. you liked having the flat to yourself, because it meant you could do what you’d been too afraid to tell him about.

so, once you are sure he is gone, you tiptoe into the living room where his guitar sits propped against the couch, picking it up carefully, and settled in. it has become a little routine, these secret moments.

you’d been teaching yourself for a while now, watching videos, reading chord charts, mimicking what you’d seen matty do a thousand times. you weren’t amazing, not by any means, but you could get through a few songs—easy ones, at least. and today, you want to learn be my mistake.

you loved that song. from the beginning on it was one of your favorite’s.

so you pull up a tutorial on your phone, tune the guitar as best as you can, and start slow, fingers moving tentatively along the fretboard. it is clumsy at first, but soon enough, you find a rhythm, humming along softly. the sound fills the flat, warm and low, and you feel a little rush of pride—like maybe you are actually getting somewhere with this.

you are so focused, so caught up in it, that you don’t hear the front door open. don’t hear the footsteps. don’t even realize you weren’t alone until

"what?"

you freeze. heart stops dead in your chest.

"baby, what?"

you whip around, eyes wide, cheeks burning. matty stands in the doorway, eyebrows raised, lips curled in the softest, most surprised smile.

"matty-“ you scramble to put the guitar down, but he is already walking toward you, eyes flicking between your face and the instrument in your lap like he can’t quite believe it.

"was that my song?" he asks, tilting his head. "and—fuck- since when?"

you swallow hard. "um. a little while?"

his mouth falls open. "a little while? and you didn’t tell me?"

you shift under his gaze, feeling like a kid caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. "i just—i dunno, i didn’t want to bother you. and i wasn’t sure if i’d be any good, so i wanted to, like… see if i could actually do it first."

matty exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head like he doesn’t know what to do with you. "fuckin’ mad, you are," he murmur, then reaching out, tilting your chin up so you have to look at him. "you know i would’ve loved to teach you, right?"

you bite your lip. "but-“

"nah, what. i’d absolutely adore that." he nudges his nose against yours, voice all warm and affectionate. "come here."

before you can argue, he is sitting beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat of him. he shifts so he is just behind you, arms reaching around to settle over yours.

"show me what you’ve got so far," he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. "go on."

you hesitate for a second, then place your fingers back on the frets, strumming tentatively.

matty makes a soft noise of approval. "not bad, love. your form’s actually alright- jesus, you really have been learning. but-“he shifts your hand slightly, fingers curling over yours. "this bit here, yeah? try that."

you do, and it sounds better—cleaner, smoother.

"there you go," matty praises, pressing a kiss to your temple. "see? you should’ve told me, sweetheart. would’ve saved yourself some dodgy youtube tutorials."

you laugh, leaning back against him. "i dunno. i think i did alright."

"you did more than alright," he admits. "but still. i can’t believe you kept this from me."

"i just wanted to surprise you."

he huffs out a laugh. "well, consider me fuckin’ surprised. and impressed. and, honestly, a little bit wounded that you didn’t tell me."

you turn to look at him, nose scrunching. "wounded?"

"wounded," he confirms, though his smile gives him away. "what else have you been keeping from me, hm? secret piano lessons? a hidden talent for the violin?"

"no, just guitar. and only because i wanted to be able to play stuff i love."

his expression softens. "like be my mistake?"

you nod, a little shy. "yeah."

matty sighs, his thumb tracing absent circles against your wrist. "you’re going to kill me."

you laugh. "how?"

"just… bein’ you." he kisses your cheek, lingering for a moment before murmuring, "now, play it again for me, yeah?"

so you do. and this time, matty hums along with you, his arms around you, his lips pressed to your temple, like he never wants to let you go.

and then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, matty starts to sing.

his voice is soft, almost hesitant at first, like he isn’t even thinking about it—just feeling the words, letting them slip out as he listened to you play.

he leans in, resting his chin on your shoulder, his arms still loose around you, watching your hands move along the frets. you can hear it in his voice—that little tremor, the emotion creeping in.

he falls silent mid-song.

you stop playing, just for a second, looking over at him.

his eyes are a little glossy, lips parted like he is caught in something bigger than the moment itself.

"matty?" you murmur.

he blinks a few times, like shaking himself out of it, then exhales a small, breathy laugh. "this is just perfect," he whispers, voice thick. and then he kisses your temple again, "fuck, i love you."

your heart swells. the guitar suddenly feeling like the least important thing in the world.

you carefully set it aside, turning toward him fully. matty barely has a second to react before are were kissing him, hands reaching to tangle in his hair, pulling him impossibly close.

he sighs into it, melting against you, one hand coming up to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin like you are something fragile, precious.

"god," he murmurs, barely breaking the kiss. "you’re my favorite person.”

you smile against his lips. "am i?"

"mhmm," he hums, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then your cheek. "my talented, sneaky, wonderful girl."

you laugh softly, tucking your face against his neck. "i love you too, you know."

matty sighs, completely content. "good," he murmurs, brushing his fingers through your hair, his lips grazing your temple again. "because i’m absolutely mad about you."

[camilapardo]

「 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝, cis woman, she/her. 」🔬 ‧₊˚ ⋆ ــــــــــﮩ٨ـ did you page 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎 from undecided? she’s the twenty five year old INTERN at KINGSLEY MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, they’ve been working here for 1 year now. you’ve probably seen them—coffee in one hand, charts in the other—if you caught a sunlight through blinds, ink stained fingers, adrenaline highs, and bandaids on knuckles. patients who adore her say she’s compassionate and quick witted, though some swear she’s a little too reckless and defensive. time is slipping—go find her before the next code is called.

full name: camila pardo nicknames: mila, cami. age: 25. date of birth: september 18, 1999. gender: female. pronouns: she/her. sexuality: bisexual (leans toward women). FC: isabela merced. occupation: medical intern at kingsley memorial hospital.

style: effortlessly rugged — vintage band tees under scrubs, combat boots she swears by, denim jackets covered in enamel pins and stitched patches. off-duty: earthy tones, cargo pants, oversized flannels, always a beanie nearby.

body mods: multiple ear piercings (four on the left, two on the right).

scent: earthy and warm — sandalwood, dried tobacco leaves, and a hint of citrus.

distinguishing features:

a scar above her right eyebrow from a childhood bike accident.

deep, expressive eyes that always seem to carry a story.

a sharp, crooked smile when she’s about to say something she knows she shouldn’t.

hobbies:

sketching people she meets (on patient charts, napkins, anything).

playing acoustic guitar — she writes songs but never shares them.

late-night motorcycle rides to nowhere.

reading old medical journals and horror novels with equal interest.

gardening — her apartment windowsill is a jungle of herbs and succulents.

positive traits:

fiercely loyal and protective.

emotionally intuitive — she reads people like charts.

adaptable under pressure.

witty, with a dry and disarming sense of humor.

bold — she’ll call out bullshit in a heartbeat, no matter who’s talking.

negative traits:

stubborn to the point of self sabotage.

struggles to ask for help — wears independence like armor.

prone to holding grudges.

can be reckless, especially when emotionally charged.

a bit of a lone wolf, even when she craves connection.

MINI BIO:

camila pardo is a 25 year old medical intern at kingsley memorial hospital, where she’s earned a quiet reputation for being both fiercely capable and unflinchingly blunt. raised in a tight knit but turbulent household in miami, camila learned early how to take care of herself and others — patching up scraped knees and broken hearts long before she ever saw the inside of a hospital. her father’s abrupt disappearance when she was eleven left a crack in her worldview that never fully healed, but it also lit the fire that pushed her toward medicine. she’s not in it for the prestige or the paycheck — she’s in it because she knows what it means to feel like no one’s coming to save you, and she’s vowed never to let anyone under her care feel that way. during rounds, she moves with purpose, sharp witted and focused, never afraid to speak up — even if it means clashing with attending physicians. her resilience stands out; the kind that’s been earned, not taught. while other interns scramble for validation, camila works like she’s got nothing to prove and everything to protect.

outside the hospital, camila is a paradox: a loner who aches for connection, a soft heart wrapped in barbed wire. she lives in a tiny apartment filled with secondhand furniture and windowsill plants she treats like patients, talking to them while strumming chords on her beat up guitar. there’s a quiet sadness to her that she keeps buried beneath sarcasm and a crooked smile, but it slips out in her art, her music, and the way she instinctively knows when someone else is hurting. she’s the kind of person who will remember your coffee order but forget to eat lunch herself, who’ll drive out to the beach at 2 am just to feel the wind on her face. camila is complicated — equal parts fire and tenderness, trauma and hope — and though she keeps most people at arm’s length, those who manage to earn her trust find a fiercely loyal, deeply empathetic friend who would fight tooth and nail to keep them safe.

HEADCANONS:

she never takes the elevator if she can avoid it. after a childhood experience of being stuck in one for hours with her younger brother, she prefers the stairs — even if it’s twelve floors up.

carries a tiny sketchbook in her back pocket and fills it with quick pencil drawings of patients, coworkers, and fleeting moments. most of them are unfinished, raw, and deeply emotional. no one’s ever seen it.

she has a playlist for everything. “sutures & sadness” is her go to for tough days at the hospital, while “drive until the sun rises” is reserved for long, late night rides on her motorcycle.

camila’s guilty pleasure is cooking shows. she can’t cook well herself (burns rice constantly), but she watches them religiously to feel grounded — something about the routine, the warmth, the idea of home.

keeps an old voicemail from her dad saved on her phone. she never listens to it, but she can’t delete it either. it’s only a few seconds long and cuts off before he finishes the sentence.

she’s lowkey great with kids, even though she pretends to be awkward around them. her softer, goofy side slips out when no one’s watching, especially with pediatric patients.

never calls in sick. ever. it’s partly pride, partly fear of being seen as unreliable — but mostly because staying busy is how she copes with her own mental health struggles.

has a tiny scar on her palm from smashing a window to rescue a stray dog in college. the dog — a pit mix named zoe — still lives with her and sleeps on her bed every night.

BIOGRAPHY:

camila pardo grew up in the humid chaos of miami, raised in a two bedroom apartment that always felt a little too full — of people, noise, tension, and things left unsaid. her father left when she was eleven, vanishing with nothing more than a mumbled goodbye and a voicemail that still lives, untouched, in her phone. her mother worked double shifts at a laundromat and her abuela taught her how to hold pain in one hand and kindness in the other. from a young age, camila learned how to care for people — tending to her little brother’s scrapes, soothing her mother’s migraines, staying quiet when the apartment walls grew too thin for arguments. that early exposure to survival shaped her view of the world: no one’s coming to save you, so you’d better learn to do it yourself.

by the time she reached med school, camila had already lived a hundred different lives — daughter, caretaker, dropout, wanderer. she spent a year couch surfing after leaving college temporarily, unsure if medicine was the right path or just something she clung to because it offered structure in the midst of chaos. but eventually, something called her back — not the prestige or ambition, but the human part of medicine. the idea of being there for someone at their most vulnerable, and not walking away. that’s what keeps her steady now at kingsley memorial hospital, where she’s in her first year as an intern. camila isn’t the loudest in the room, but she’s the one you want by your side when things go sideways. she works hard, reads people better than charts, and always manages to stay just far enough away emotionally to protect herself — and just close enough to make a difference.

camila lives quietly, a contradiction in motion. her off hours are filled with sketchbooks full of raw, inky portraits; guitar strings worn from quiet songs she’ll never perform; plants thriving in mismatched mugs on her windowsill. she has scars she never talks about, and a pit mix named zoe who sleeps in her bed like a weighted blanket. she’s the kind of person who keeps people at arm’s length but will fight like hell for them anyway. there’s still a part of her that believes connection is dangerous — but there’s also a flicker of hope, the same one that got her into medicine in the first place: that maybe healing isn’t just for other people. maybe it’s for her, too.

[dreamdripdistance]

made a ship chart for my fave freaks - rambles abt it under the cut smiles grins

- tsukasa is like. the one of maybe two openly gay people in your highschool and Knew early on that he only liked guys, where as akito i could see as either gay or bi, but tbf i dont think he gives a shit #marriedtothegrind

- everyone hears about the relationship from tsukasa but Noone believes it, it takes akito accidentally mentioning them going on a date for the rest of their friends to be like. wait for REAL? the news spreads like wildfire

- akito fell first and fell hard. cringe! tsukasa probably heard someone homophobic-ly joke about them dating after they kept having lunch together and was like "HAH HAH HAH thats crazy.... or is it...?"

- it takes them a while to get used to being a bit more up close and personal with it, but once they do they tend to give and take affection pretty equally - tsukasa tends to sprawl when they nap together so does that make him the big spoon...?

- every day akito wakes up to like three paragraphs of a good morning text and it makes him simultaneously shrivel up and also kick his legs n blush n shit. an sees one of the texts and makes fun of him for like a week straight

- tsukasa goes all in on the crazy romantic gestures both because he believes akito deserves the princely treatment but also feels like hes Supposed to do that in a relationship a la plays and musicals - he eventually settles and gets more comfortable with the idea of a everyday romance and enjoys it even more (still does crazy bs sometimes for funsies tho!)

- hc that tsukasa had like a 1 week (okay maybe like 5 days) long middle school relationship, probably in the middle of his gay realisation too lol. hes also kissed before, though only on stage. hes probably (platonically, Professionally) kissed almost everyone in wansho except nene lol

- akito tho, he honestly wouldntve even bothered with dating bc he was too busy Attaining His Goals tm. only now when hes more secure in his place in vbs does he think about it so hes still a bit behind, but honestly, not by much when compared to tsukasa

- i think the flood gates would open for akito (in terms of falling first) when tsukasa would talk about saki in response to akito mentioning ena, talking about his role as a big brother and how ena would feel the same way. as annoying akito thinks tsukasa is, tsukasa talking genuinely about something like this would probably strike a chord with him

- a lot of people (read: classmates, ppl who dont know tsukasa especially) thought they wouldnt really last very long - they only saw their loud silly antics and boke/tsukomi dynamic but they probably last for a good while. they end up having a very strong understanding of eachother and are both fiercely motivated and know what its like to have their goals feel unattainable. eventually akito starts getting what touya meant whenever he'd talk about tsukasa when they were kids, much to his dismay

- though, at some point i think they Do break up for practical reasons. honestly its the hardest for kohane to deal with because shes like. can i still go to pxl and watch him perform or do i have to be a Bro for akito

- THEYRE ALSO DUMB AS ROCKS AND I LOVE PROBLEMS !!!!!! THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE IS STUPIDITY, THEYRE A WALKING COMEDY ACT AHHHHGGHGGHHHHH THIS WHOLE THING HAS BEEN VAGUELY SERIOUS BUT AT AKIKASAS CORE THE SILLYNESS IS OF MOST IMPORTANCE!!!!!!!!

- outside of tsukasas senpai/dear kouhai schtick i think akito would really interest him and tsukasa would really value his opinion and input on his art - seeing how meticulous and dedicated he is to his own music! akito lives in a completely different artistic world to him and i think he would be a really good anchor to reality that tsukasa kind of needs (even if he doesnt realise he does)

akikasa sweep i hate these orange creamsicle motherfuckers

[pinkanon-com]

I fear that @auroralwriting and @daisyjonesgf have plagued my brain with making a djats alter ego after introducing theirs (which, like, fair... i was the one who lowkey-highkey cooked up West Coast Finnick, saur—)

She's a jack of all trades, but a master at none. Yes, she loves spending her days over a canvas and creating a mural... but she’s not great at anatomy. Yes, she can create chord progressions on pianos, guitars, and saxophones... but she doesn't know how to write song lyrics. She loves performing and acting and being on stage... but she could never land a leading lady role. The list goes on!

She's a metaphysical girlie. She charges her crystals and water under full moons, keeps up on her horoscope, does her daily tarot reading, and leaves small offerings around her house.

She does this thing once or twice a month where she takes a soak to realign herself with her element: water. (This is literally me projecting as I am a Pisces Stellium who has always loved everything to do with water; never feared it.) She puts on a record, lights some candles, uses some bubble bath solution, and makes a whole day from it.

She's just a retired stage actress who now writes under a pseudonym. And when she's between novels, she's performing covers at open mic nights in bars she does roadie work at. And when she's not doing either? She's a regular DJ at a few nightclubs for some pocket money. Says it keeps her well-rounded and out of the house when she's in a slump.

She meets the band as they're getting started as The Six; she's helping them set up the equipment and unintentionally (at first) stepping on Billy's toes during sound checks. There's a small back and forth before she hits him with a "dude, your energy fucking sucks. let me do my job, pls and thank u <3"

And I like to think she ends up working with the band as a sound engineer or mixer; maybe playing certain instruments on albums that no one else does (i.e the saxophone) or even 'ghost' vocals

She gets on well with all of them; mostly Daisy, Warren, and Karen. She memorizes the weirdest shit about them. Can she remember their birthdays? Hell fucking no. But can she remember the most obscure fact they told her once in passing? Yup! (That being said, she knows everyone's birth charts... side-eyes the fuck out of everyone when certain planets are in retrograde).

This isn't to say she avoids Billy and Eddie, though. She can't handle being in the same room as the two of them, however. She feels the tension and it's The Literal Worst Feeling Known To Man™️, so she never hangs around when it gets down to the three of them in a room.

She definitely does bring weed to places. Not to say she's a supplier and dealer, but she knows a guy... or two... or ten. And she brings edibles (cookies or brownies) to shows and whatnot. And when Billy does get sober, she makes sure to also make a clean batch of whatever so he doesn't break sobriety over something so small (she makes sure to label accordingly, or else she will forget which is which; almost happened until she was like "omg yeah, i put the drug cookies in the nice, porcelain container my mom gave me and the clean cookies in the Tupperware container!!! Whoops!!!")

[desertleviathan]

Personal Autism Spectrum coordinates realization: I would so very much rather have a large quantity of structurally consistent tasks than even one slightly uncertain task.

Personal Anxiety coordinates realization: I would rather have an infinite number of thankless anonymous tasks that will only be noticed if I fail to perform them than one task that will be subject to any public scrutiny, even if I'm 100% confident in my ability to execute it flawlessly, even if I'm 100% certain that doing so will earn me praise and rewards.

This is a particularly inauspicious overlap. At least the other two horsemen of my neurological apocalypse, Depression and ADHD, aren't directly involved so far as I can tell. To the extent that their respective dominions can be meaningfully delineated from one another, anyway.

I mainly do online meeting support for a city council office. Normally on meeting days I'm moderating the Zoom, providing tech support for login or microphone problems, making sure the video feed is going out to all appropriate destinations including the official archives, and logging online registrations to speak at any public hearings. But that's all behind the scenes, as befits my overall desire to Not Be Perceived (Particularly By Authority Figures). The only thing I do that's at all out in front of people is screen sharing any presentations that need to go up, which is objectively very simple but in practice fucking harrowing because it means that elected officials are aware of me.

The Mayor sometimes says my name out loud with her human mouth. Her diaphragm muscles compress her lungs and push air past her vocal chords and tongue and teeth and lips in a configuration that causes a vibration of air molecules that others recognize as a sigil indicating: Me. I don't need that warlock shit in my life. I am an insignificant speck of dust in a vast and uncaring universe and that's just how I like it. Today we have only one agenda item with a presentation, compared to the half-dozen or more we usually get, but that one is just a memo with some charts in it that they'll want me to hop around to instead of actually being formatted as a slideshow. I'm sure it'll go smoothly and be like 10 minutes at most, but the dread has ballooned up to eclipse all other possible concerns.

Objectively, it's a complete non-issue and it'll be over before anyone even reads this. But the one consequence I'm sure of is that for the rest of my time working here any time I see the guy who sent me this memo for his presentation I'll think "There's that asshole who's too good to put his god damn charts into a convenient slideshow." That degree of rancor over such an insignificant source may be the actual, genuine emotion I'm anticipating, but in the part of my awareness that can remove itself half a step from the scenario it's also... funny as hell?

What even are our brains? Even ones that are working "correctly" are so fucking weird.

[cherryrainn]

Hi! I want to say how much I enjoy reading your fluff AND angst stuff. Emphasis on “and” because I usually don’t like angst, but your writing is so captivating that it really sends me through the motions. You’re really good at representing those sensitive topics.

Here’s my request: can you write please a greedler x fem!reader where he’s at the height of his wealth, and the reader is a popular singer/songwriter? Then he goes to one of the reader’s performances, he’s secretly impressed, and befriends her. He’s all confident around her until he slowly realizes that his walls are coming down because he’s falling in love with her. (I’m sorry this was really specific lmao)

thank you sooo soo much, i try my best hehe. thanks for the ask

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ 

— moonlight serenade

onceler (greedler) x singer reader

onceler, at the height of his wealth and power, reveled in his opulence and greed. his extravagant lifestyle and relentless pursuit of profit were legendary. but deep down, beneath the layers of arrogance, there was an emptiness that he couldn't ignore.

whispers of your talent had reached his ears, igniting a curiosity he couldn't quell. as the rumors of your extraordinary performances grew louder, onceler's interest intensified. determined to witness your artistry firsthand, he arranged for the best seat in the house at a renowned concert hall, where you were set to perform.

onceler entered the opulent venue, his steps purposeful and confident. his eyes roamed the grand hall, taking in the ornate decorations and the anticipation buzzing in the air.

onceler ascended the winding staircase that led to his private box. the rich, velvety curtains parted, revealing a sumptuous chamber with plush seating and a breathtaking view of the stage below. he settled into a cushioned armchair, his attention fixated on the single spotlight that bathed the stage in a glow.

as the lights dimmed, the audience hushed, and a wave of anticipation washed over the hall. the strains of music filled the air, and then, like magic, you emerged, your presence commanding and magnetic. onceler's breath caught in his throat as the spotlight illuminated your figure, poised and radiant.

your voice, like a siren's call, captivated everyone in the room. it was a mesmerizing blend of power. onceler felt the vibrations of your song resonate deep within his chest, stirring long-dormant feelings he had long forgotten.

with each note, onceler's admiration grew. the richness and clarity of your voice enchanted him, and the emotions you poured into every lyric touched a chord within his hardened heart. he found himself swept away by the beauty and artistry unfolding before him.

as the final notes of your performance faded, the audience erupted into thunderous applause. onceler joined in, clapping his hands together, his gaze never leaving you. he knew then that he had to meet you, to unravel the secrets behind your enchanting melodies.

using his influential connections, onceler secured backstage access, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. when you emerged from behind the curtains, a smile lighting up your face, he couldn't help but feel a surge of awe and intrigue.

"hey, y/n," he greeted, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "that was absolutely incredible. your talent is off the charts."

you thanked him warmly, your eyes sparkling with appreciation. "i'm glad you enjoyed it, onceler. it means a lot coming from someone like you."

days turned into weeks, and onceler became a familiar face at your performances. he would find himself in the audience, his gaze fixed solely on you. gradually, he shed his layers of arrogance and greed, revealing a vulnerable side he hadn't known existed.

at first, onceler approached you with his usual air of confidence, eager to engage in conversation and learn more about the person behind the captivating performances. he relished in your wit, your charm, and the way your eyes would light up when discussing music.

but as he spent more time in your presence, he noticed a subtle shift within himself. the walls he had built so carefully around his heart began to crumble, revealing the vulnerability that lay dormant beneath. onceler found himself longing for moments alone with you, moments where he could let his guard down and truly be himself.

one evening, after yet another enchanting performance, onceler invited you to join him for a quiet dinner at a luxurious restaurant. as you sat across from each other, the soft glow of candlelight casting an intimate ambiance, onceler couldn't help but feel his heart fluttering with nerves.

he observed you, taking in every detail—the way your eyes sparkled with laughter, the gentle curve of your smile, and the passion that radiated from your being. with each passing moment, onceler realized that he was slowly falling in love with you.

as the night progressed, conversation flowed effortlessly between the two of you. oncelerfound himself opening up about his past, his dreams, and the fears that had haunted him for years. it was a vulnerability he had rarely allowed himself to show to anyone else.

you listened with empathy and understanding, creating a safe space where onceler could let go of his guard. he began to see that beneath the layers of greed and ambition, he was just a man yearning for connection and love.

days turned into weeks, and onceler's affection for you deepened. he found himself going out of his way to make you smile, to surprise you with thoughtful gestures, and to support you in your career. his once selfish pursuits now centered around making you happy and seeing your dreams flourish.

but as his walls came crashing down, onceler couldn't help but feel a pang of fear. love had always been a foreign concept to him, something he had deemed unnecessary in the pursuit of wealth and power. now, it was consuming him, overwhelming him in the most unexpected ways.

one evening, as you walked through a moonlit park together because he asked to, onceler's steps faltered. he turned to face you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

"i never thought i'd find myself in this... spot," he confessed, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope. "but i can't deny it anymore. i'm falling in love with you, y/n."

your gaze softened, and a tender smile graced your lips. "and i with you, onceler. it's not about the wealth or power you possess. it's about the person you are underneath it all."

in that moment, the weight of his past desires and greed seemed insignificant compared to the love he had found in you. onceler realized that true wealth was not measured in material possessions, but in the depth of connection and the happiness he shared with you.

from that day forward, onceler embraced his newfound emotions, dedicating himself to nurturing the love between you. together, you embarked on a journey where greed was replaced by generosity, and the pursuit of love became the greatest treasure of all.

[itmeblog]

Learning Guitar Week 1 (An earnest attempt)

Day 1: I read the chart wrong and popped a string while tuning. Why yes it hurt and hit my hand, but this isn't the first time I've popped a string and at least this one doesn't feel like looking down the barrel of a loaded weapon when tuning. I'll take what I can get. Ordered more strings, this is fine, I'm so new I'm only working on one (I can't remember how to read treble cleft... or bass. Alto cleft was where I lived and, honestly, even that was mostly vibes. Didn't learn an acronym for that one). Is the guitar too large for me? Am I that small?? Hand positioning is uncomfortable but I can at least hear when my fingers are not in the right place. Eventually this will feel normal.

Day 2: Strings delivered to wrong house. Still fails to matter as I am now on two strings. My fingers hurt, I've lost my callouses from viola (I can only play for about 30 minutes at a time) :/. I've cut the nails on my left hand so I can get the position right, I'm not trying to lift all my fingers during string changes, particularly since I think it'd be a bad habit to form by the time I get to chords... best figure that out now...

I'm probably going to be stuck here for a few days string switching is hard and my thumb wants to drift over the fret board(?) finger board(? what even is this instrument) all the time, but when it does I can hear that it's not right (maybe? The more I think about this the less I know...).

Guitar feels less oversized now that I've changed how I sit.

[Neighbor delivered strings, I have replaced one (Thanks youtube!). I feel this is not the norm, but also this guitar has seen shit and I'm sure this is the least of it.]

Day 3: Working on hand position (had a tiny break through but it's hard to keep my hand in place. IT WANTS TO BE FREE)

I am still on two strings. Slowly getting better at switching. I can now play an open string while my fingers on a different string like 65% of the time.

I miss my calluses.

Day 4: Still on 2 strings but it feels less daunting now. Switching is now at 85% I'll hit the right string and note. Fingers still hurt, but it's less pressing than day 1!

My brother wants to learn too, but he's rushing. i don't know why he's in such a hurry. I mean, I know scales and Alouette are not the most thrilling things but they are mostly there to teach the basics and get you used to the hand positioning and reading music, right? (I have tried explaining this to him but he is not interested. Youth or like the online vibe of his generation? ...I suppose I did the same when I was his age...)

He just hasn't had a viola teacher scream at him for ~30 minutes about how he failed to get the basics right and break bad habits one by one. I suppose his relationship with music'll probably be healthier though.

Day 5: Ran through drills with one and two strings then... tried adding the third. Results are mixed. I must keep my hand from moving. It is tired of its internment. I do not know how to tell it that there is nothing more for it at this time. It must learn to sit.

Day 6: Working on just those 3 strings! I can do it if I go slowly! The book wants me to learn chords. I am afraid.

Day 7: I reviewed all the stuff from earlier this week and at the end I touched the C-chord.

It is scary.

I am bad.

I feel like one day is going to be dedicated to just hitting the right strings... maybe I should make an altar... pray to a higher power. It feels unlikely that I will succeed.

WEEK ONE PROGRESS

Audio from my phone, don't expect much lol

[tara-girl]

Birth Chart Readings: Open

Hi there, I am Priti. I am passionate about Astrology. Specifically , about the Vedic Astrology which is somewhat different from Western Astrology.

If you are looking for prediction or reading your Natal Chart from Vedic Astrological point of view, then contact me.

If you are a student of Astrology, You can also contact me in case you are curious about how the reading and it’s intpretation differs in Vedic Astrology case.

About Me

I have always been curious about the knowledge of knowing people destiny. My journey to search the ultimate truth lead me to the mysterious knowledge of Astrology .

Chords of Astrology struck my heart ❤️ and my learning of this subject started when I was 15 years old.

Now, It’s been around more than 14 years of learning and analysing numerous people’s chart.

As Astrology was also associated with my past life karma, I feel naturally drawn to the subject. I can see the hidden meanings and trajectories in someone’s life using birth/Natal chart.

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What is Guru Chandal Yoga?

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Mystery of Rahu

Unlocking Celestial Beauty Secrets

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Astrology Alchemy: The Planetary Position of Superhuman Intelligence

Exploring the profound Mysteries of the 8th House in Astrology

Navigating Astrology Mysteries of Saturn

Planetary Influences on love

Mystery of Saturn in 8th House

Significance of 7th House in Astrology

Part- I -Unlocking Prosperity: Astrological Guidance for Rich and Luxurious Life

Part- II -Unlocking Prosperity: Astrological Guidance for Rich and Luxurious Life

Part- III -Unlocking Prosperity: Astrological Guidance for Rich and Luxurious Life

The Celestial Titan: Unveiling the Strongest Planet in Astrology

Eyesight issues predicted through Horoscope?

Signs of Strong and Weak Jupiter

Astro house for Businfess

Is Ketu in the 7th House bad for Marriages?

Explained: Strong Saturn & Weak Saturn

Part- I: Rahu Ketu Transit 2023 to 2025 for Pisces Ascendant

PAST LIFE CONNECT: KETU IN FIRST HOUSE

[37q]

i was playing my moms ovation guitar yday and she was quizzing me on my skillset like howre your chord shapes? (intuitive) you do bars well? (anything except B's) do you strum or pick mostly? (pick) do you keep your nails up for a sharper pluck or do you prefer short nails for softer sounds? (very short) you know how to read chord charts? (ive made my own chord chart poster) how many chords do you know? (i practice circle of 5ths and 4ths on major minors 7s dims and sus's) can you read tabs? (ive written dozens) have you written your own stuff? (yes) what about scale positions and progressions? and finally i said im shaky on progressions and so she taught me EVERYTHING!!!! i understand it all now nothing can stop me

[briantravisband]

I woke up today to a news article about “Rich Men from Richmond” song and read about the guy who wrote it and how it’s now number one on the charts. The song had been weaponized by the MAGA crowd but I don't see it as being any more political than most music out there. I don’t think there’s a songwriter around that hasn't wrote about how hard life is these days, and how much the world is transforming into something unrecognizable from the recent past. This guy picked up the guitar and wrote something that’s struck a chord with listeners worldwide. As a songwriter whose been at it for decades I can attest that it’s lightning in a bottle when that happens.

In light of processing this guys story, I was feeling a little disheartened over breakfast about how challenging it’s been for me to reach new listeners with my own creative musical output. Then at that very moment my phone rang.

It was a musician friend of mine whose musical abilities and songwriting I truly admire and respect. He said, “Hey I’m glad you’re up…look, I’ve been listening to the last two songs you’ve posted nonstop for days and I just had to call you and tell you how great they are.”

Instantly, the doubt I was feeling about my own work dissipated a little...

“A couple of the lines in ‘A Song For Me' really grabbed me and made the back of my skull tingle." he continued, "Your harmonies and guitar playing in 'Before The World Ends' are great and I have a playlist of all the songs you post that I listen to on my long drives to work. Please keep posting your new songs, I love listening to them!"

I stammered a few thank yous and then we spoke about songwriting for a while before he said goodbye.

I think the lesson here is that you shouldn't compare your work to anyone else before you have your morning coffee or else you'll end up in an ego death spiral that results in your own personal existential crisis that can only be avoided if you happen to get a reassuring phone call moments later. lol.

But seriously, no artist should compare their work to work that has become wildly successful in a meteoric way because all art is subjective. Just keep making your art and putting it out there and try not to be concerned about the reactions, positive or negative. Either reaction could color your thinking and it has the potential to negatively affect your next song or your next piece if you over-think things too much.

Just stay in the zone and follow your muse. Work hard and keep going. The accumulation of your creative output will start to speak for itself, and at some point, if you keep at it, it will be impossible for anyone to discount what you have achieved whether it's wild runaway success or a steady, steadfast career of consistency that you are proud of.

[strummuse]

All Guitar Chords Explained: A Complete Guide for Beginners to Pros

What Are Guitar Chords?The Chord Wheel: Your Music Theory Shortcut Types of Guitar Chords1. Open Chords 2. Barre Chords 3. Power Chords (5 Chords) 4. Major and Minor Chords 5. Seventh Chords 6. Suspended Chords (Sus2, Sus4) 7. Diminished & Augmented Chords How to Practice All Guitar Chords Efficiently1. Group by Shape, Not Alphabet 2. Use the Circle of Fifths 3. Daily Rotation Routine 4. Play Songs Immediately Comparison Table: Chord Memory Techniques Guitar Chord Chart (All Keys) Tips to Practice Guitar Chords Efficiently Common Chord Progressions FAQ Final ThoughtsRelated Posts: External Links Whether you're just starting out or looking to sharpen your skills, understanding all guitar chords is essential to becoming a confident player. In this ultimate guide, we'll break down every major chord category, give you easy-to-read charts, and help you apply them musically.

What Are Guitar Chords?

A guitar chord is a group of notes played simultaneously to create harmony. Most chords are formed by pressing strings down on specific frets and strumming either all or some strings. There are thousands of chords, but the good news? You only need to learn a few to start playing your favorite songs. Also Read:- How Many Guitar Chords are there ? The Chord Wheel: Your Music Theory Shortcut The chord wheel is a simple circular chart that shows the relationship between chords in each key. It’s powerful because it lets you: - Understand which chords work together (e.g., in C major: C, Dm, Em, F, G, Am) - Build chord progressions faster - Remember which chords belong in each key For beginners, this tool demystifies how songs are written and makes it easier to memorize chords by context. Tip: Keep a physical chord wheel near your practice area. It's a visual reinforcement of musical logic.

Types of Guitar Chords

1. Open Chords Open chords use open strings (unfretted) and are great for beginners. Most common open chords: - C Major - A Major - G Major - E Major - D Major - A Minor - E Minor - D Minor ✅ Pro Tip: Master open chords before jumping into barre chords. 2. Barre Chords These use one finger to "bar" across the fretboard. They're movable shapes—once you know one, you can slide it anywhere. Popular barre chord shapes: - E-shape major barre (e.g. F, G, A) - A-shape major barre - Minor barre chords (E minor shape) 3. Power Chords (5 Chords) Power chords are simple two-note shapes used in rock, punk, and metal. Examples: - E5, A5, D5 - Shape: Root + Fifth (e.g. 1st and 5th fret notes) 🎸 Used in: Green Day, Nirvana, Blink-182 4. Major and Minor Chords These are your basic happy and sad chords. They're triads (3 notes). Major chords = Root + Major 3rd + 5th Minor chords = Root + Minor 3rd + 5th Example: - C Major: C–E–G - A Minor: A–C–E 5. Seventh Chords Seventh chords add a jazzy, bluesy flavor. Types: - Dominant 7 (C7) - Major 7 (Cmaj7) - Minor 7 (Cm7) Why learn them? They show up in blues, soul, funk, jazz, and even pop. 6. Suspended Chords (Sus2, Sus4) Suspended chords replace the third with either a 2nd or 4th. Common shapes: - Csus2 = C–D–G - Csus4 = C–F–G They create tension and resolution in music. 7. Diminished & Augmented Chords Advanced flavors of harmony. - Diminished (dim or °) = Root + b3 + b5 - Augmented (aug or +) = Root + 3 + #5 Use these for tension and drama in progressions. How to Practice All Guitar Chords Efficiently 1. Group by Shape, Not Alphabet Instead of going A to G, group chords by hand shapes. For example: - E-shape major barre chords (E, F, G, A, B) - A-shape minor barre chords (Am, Bm, Cm, etc.) Grouping makes it easier to remember visually and kinesthetically. 2. Use the Circle of Fifths Practice chords in intervals of fifths: - C → G → D → A → E → B → F# → C# → Ab → Eb → Bb → F → C This mirrors how many songs are written and trains your ear. 3. Daily Rotation Routine Create a weekly schedule: - Monday: Open chords - Tuesday: Barre chords - Wednesday: Dominant 7ths - Thursday: Minor 7ths / Maj7 - Friday: Diminished / Augmented - Saturday: Chord progressions - Sunday: Review & jam 4. Play Songs Immediately Instead of drilling chords in isolation, learn songs that use them. This helps with contextual memorization. Comparison Table: Chord Memory Techniques TechniqueBenefitBest ForVisual PatternsMuscle memory of shapesAll levelsChord Progression JamsReal-world useIntermediateFlash CardsQuick recallBeginnersChord WheelTheory-based memorizationAdvanced theoryColor CodingVisual differentiation by typeVisual learnersRepetition with SongsEmotional & auditory associationEveryone

Guitar Chord Chart (All Keys)

Here’s a handy table with essential chords in every key: KeyMajorMinor5thMaj7m7CCAmC5Cmaj7Am7GGEmG5Gmaj7Em7DDBmD5Dmaj7Bm7AAFmA5Amaj7Fm7EECmE5Emaj7Cm7FFDmF5Fmaj7Dm7BBGmB5Bmaj7Gm7 💡 Learning chords by key helps you transpose and understand harmony faster. Here is the Image for Quick Learning of All Guitar Chords.

All Guitar Chords

Tips to Practice Guitar Chords Efficiently

- 🎯 Focus on transitions (e.g., G → D → C) - 🕐 Use a metronome (60–80 bpm) - 🔁 Practice chord progressions daily - 👁️ Look away from your fingers over time - 🧠 Memorize by shape and sound

Common Chord Progressions

Try these progressions on your guitar: - I–V–vi–IV (C–G–Am–F) → Used in Let It Be, Someone Like You - I–IV–V (C–F–G) → Found in Twist and Shout - vi–IV–I–V (Am–F–C–G) → Great for emotional pop songs - 12-bar blues: E7 – A7 – B7 🎵 You don’t need all the chords—just the right ones in the right order!

FAQ

Q: How many chords should I memorize? Start with 8–10 essential chords. Expand gradually. Q: What’s the hardest chord? Many say F Major barre chord—but it becomes easy with practice. Q: Can I play songs with just 3 chords? Absolutely! Many popular songs use just 3 chords. Q: Do professional guitarists know all guitar chords? A: They know how to build any chord using theory, not necessarily all shapes by memory.

Final Thoughts

Learning all guitar chords isn’t about memorizing hundreds of shapes—it's about understanding patterns, sounds, and progressions. Start small, keep practicing, and before you know it, you’ll be jamming through full songs confidently. 🎸 Whether you're a beginner or aiming for pro-level playing, mastering chords is your gateway to music. Related Posts: - Top 10 Easy Guitar Songs for Beginners - Strumming Pattern 101: Developing Rhythm and Timing - Fingerpicking Basics: An Introduction for New Guitarists

External Links

- Learn Guitar Chords About the Author: Karan Singh is a guitarist and music educator passionate about helping people unlock their musical potential through simplified lessons and real-world applications. Read the full article

[leatherbound-breakdown]

Book Title: Escape from St. Hell

Author: Lewis Hancox

Genre: Graphic Novel

Note: After reading this book, I found out that it is the sequel to 'Welcome to St. Hell' by the same author. Like most things in life, I walked backwards into this one and will have to pick up the earlier work another time.

Feelings:

[ x ] Favorites list

[ x ] Made me laugh

[ ] Had my favorite tropes

[ ] Need the next one

[ ] Didn’t like it

[ ] Made me cry

Story Summary: Lewis Hancox charts his journey of coming into his own as a trans man with plenty of laughs, a good number of cringes, and an honesty that takes readers along for the ride.

Favorite Moments/Quotes: When Lew is trying to date, and every fumble he described, I experienced. Right down to venting to my friend about how unhappy I am in my relationship and accidentally sending that text to my partner instead. When I tell you my body had a physical reaction when I reached the panel where he realized what he did.

Favorite Characters: Lewis (of course). His story had so many parallels to my own, especially in adulthood, and feeling that girlhood mask peel away the more your friends disregard your identity.

Worst Characters: Lew's dad particularly struck a chord with me. As well as the girls who bullied him in school. The nightmares of femininity not fitting right.

Final Thoughts: Overall all this was a beautifully human experience that was described in this book. What is home if not the first place we learn to run away from anyway? I'm finding a lot of love for these autobiographical graphic novels. They make me feel much less alone in my experience, and having another person's world translated in the form of a comic panel with creative metaphors like using video game leveling systems to achieve manhood, or at least Lew's vision of what manhood was supposed to look like. Since reading this book, I have stumbled onto his Instagram and have found that his mother had quite the character arc once her grief passed. I held out hope for her, and I'm so pleased to see the real mother being a mother to her son and readily tackling trolls in his comment section. Beautiful. Chef's kiss.