#i believe the appropriate genre label is probably....

[deus-sema]

The discourse surrounding Sauron and Galadriel about love and obsession has been rather interesting to catch up with so far. After going through the perspectives of both those who like this pairing and those who don’t, I think both sides can unite in agreement over this one fact, if nothing else: obsession, without any shred of doubt, exists between them. It exists on both sides for she has been obsessed with him long before he was with her. Yes, it was motivated by unadulterated hatred and a desire for vengeance, but he occupied her thoughts for the better or worse. Now, she has planted herself in his mind too.

Then comes the question of whether whatever there is between them can be considered romantic or not. Is it appropriate to label it as love or not? Here it is a matter of preference which differs from person to person. What will be interpreted as romantic by one may not be so by another and vice versa. It is completely understandable why many will be uncomfortable with the notion of obsession being associated with love. Obsession – over anything and anyone – is usually an unhealthy emotion. Unwanted and unpredictable, it can prove detrimental to both the individual experiencing it as well as the people around them. In the real world, it needs to be recognized for what it is and addressed for the betterment of everyone.

But, herein lies the difference between the world we exist in and fictional worlds. Every work of fiction, regardless of genre, exists on a different plane whose happenings have no bearing on our reality. Fiction is a realm of infinite possibilities which is the reason why people use it for wish fulfillment. People can’t fly or use magic for real but they can do so in a make-believe world. People can cheat death and turn over a new leaf. Foes can become friends and overcome their grievances. They can live happily ever after without any worries about betrayal or loss. It is a place where ideal and unconditional love is allowed to thrive. Simultaneously, it is also where love can exist in flawed, twisted and, even, perverse forms. It can be greedy, possessive, selfish, and warped while still retaining its essence. That is probably the reason why many, myself included, are fascinated with the idea of stories with obsessive love. With the idea of an all-consuming desire and yearning on one character’s part for another that can go on to be destructive. With the concept of evil beings experiencing love. It is why obsession fueled by love, whether executed properly or not, is an integral component of many dark romances. Within stories, it is permitted to be what it is most certainly not in reality. In real life, no emotion – not even what we believe to be love – should override our individual well being or anyone else’s. This is why fiction is a safe space to explore fantasies. Even the most incredulous ones of all.

Now, about how I interpret Sauron and Galadriel, specifically, within the context of this show: It is love. They developed feelings for each other when their paths crossed unexpectedly and they forged an unlikely bond because of the circumstances they faced together. Simple. Unintentionally, Galadriel began to care for her greatest enemy and believed him to be her friend. She is still obsessed with defeating him but whatever she felt for Halbrand now exists alongside her hatred for Sauron. Meanwhile, Sauron is still pretty much evil. He is working to further his own interests or,rather,what he thinks to best for Middle Earth. But, at the same time, he desires Galadriel. Both were visibly attracted to one another in the first season. Even though no words were said, Charlie and Morfydd, being the phenomenally talented and intelligent actors that they are, conveyed it beautifully through their expressions and body language. I don’t think it is a betrayal to the characters either for the show, more or less, took Sauron’s canonical obsession with Galadriel and her persistent defiance against him and added to it a layer of romance which is doomed because of who they are. I don’t claim to know what the show plans on doing with them in future and it is not in my hands. We can only speculate, engage in wishful thinking and write fanfics and AUs if things don’t go the way we want them to.

RoP is a show I’m enjoying so far in all its aspects and I’m not exaggerating when I say that its fandom is one of the most chilled-out and relaxing ones I’ve engaged with in recent times. I’ve gotten to interact with many amazing posts. However I’m well aware that where there is more than one person, there are differences in opinions. Where there are differences, there will be disagreements. Where there are disagreements, there will be clashes. Clashes will lead to fanwars. Fanwars have high chances of turning toxic. I know the drill for I have undergone it in many fandoms. I’ve been carried away by the toxicity and have made my fair share of mistakes too. Those experiences have taught me some important lessons. One mistake I made, rather repeatedly, during my…..enthusiastic….stanning phase was to engage in fights with people whose opinions on a certain topic or fictional character differed from mine. All factions believe their interpretation of whichever nonexistent character they like in whatever made-up story they are into, is the correct one and many a times they can substantiate their claims with reasons. Sometimes, these contrasting opinions lead to some riveting and respectful discussions between people which, to be honest, is the entire point behind a public platform. Sometimes, they result in nasty fights.

Ideally, the feelings of real people should be prioritized over seemingly trivial issues like different preferences in fiction. But if we were capable of that we would all be perfect but, as we all know, perfection exists only in Valinor. Fictional works are dearer to us than some random stranger on the internet. So, when we encounter a radically different opinion about something we are passionate about, the first reaction is usually one of annoyance. Depending on whether it is mild or severe, this annoyance can make us petty. We crave the satisfaction of one-upping those who disagree with us, of validating our perspective over their’s and, as a result, we don’t realize if someone’s feelings get hurt in the process. Or even if we do, the euphoria of ‘winning’ in the discourse makes it easier to sweep the adverse effects under the rug. I don’t believe we need to withhold our opinions to make others happy. We are not bound to understand each other's opinions, much less agree every time. But we do owe it to each other to be civil if not anything else. As for me, what I’m going to try and do is to ignore the takes I disagree with and mind my own business. If it gets too much then I am going to press the block button. I advise those who dislike my opinions and takes to do the same. It’s nothing personal and we all deserve to enjoy in our own spaces while choosing what content we wish to see and engage with without suppressing our thoughts. We deserve to vent as well for it is healthy. I cannot guarantee that I’ll be successful right away for there are still instances when I end up behaving in a manner that is plain immature. But, to paraphrase the late Diarmid who once tried to counsel Sauron (Eru bless his soul), I simply have to keep trying until it becomes a habit.

So, take care everyone, and I hope you all are doing well wherever you are.

[vinos-scum]

A customer emailed us cause some historical fantasy book was misplaced in the YA section and contained "rampant homophobia and sexism" and probably a bunch of other things but my eyes glazed over reading it. And I have many questions.

Number 1, it is historical fantasy fiction, no shit it's probably not gonna show you some happy land of perfect equality, the question is are these subject matters being portrayed as look how awful things were or man wasn't this so much better. (I haven't read the book idk but we all know how adults who read YA are.)

Number 2, THIS BOOK IS A SEQUEL. DID YOU NOT READ THE FIRST ONE AND ALREADY HAVE EXPECTATIONS OF WHAT YOU WERE GETTING INTO. OR BETTER YET ON THE BACK, WHICH IM ASSUMING YOU READ TO GO AH YES LET ME BUY THIS IT SOUNDS RIVETING, IT WOULD HAVE DEFINITELY SAID THE SEQUEL TO BOOK.

Finally number 3, why bother emailing us? Assuming it's because the customer believes we purposely put it there as a title appropriate for the YA audience. No, that's not how that works. We cannot possibly know every single book that comes into our store. So guess what! The publishers in their infinite wisdom know this and tell us what genre a book is so we don't have to read it! Wow! And sure enough I double check our system and the book was correctly labeled as historical fiction. So once again, why email us for this? The customer didn't want a refund so clearly none of the apaling content offended them that much. If they just wanted to let us know in case of other misplaced books they could have just called and said hey I think some of your books are in the wrong spots. No need for all the details and "how dare you trick me!" tone.

IDK. Humans are confusing. Plz don't harass retail staff because YOU didn't know what you were buying. Or just ask for a refund or exchange if it really bugs you. "But it's your job to keep the store clean and fix mistakes like that!" Guess what I don't got the hours and manpower for that nor do I get payed enough to give a shit about the god damn YA section of all things (THAT IM NOT IN CHARGE OF). If I see hentai placed in the kids section by shit teens, yeah I'll move that back cause it's obvious. Some random novel gets put in the YA section? how am I supposed to know? I got 10 boxes of manga to unload you think I got time to comb the shelves?

[incomingalbatross]

Fic: Guiding Light

@foundfamilybingo fill (very belated) for the “Lost/Stranded” square, in the Gravity Falls fandom!

@awesomebutunpractical, this is for you. Thank you for waiting, and for generally being the fun and friendly Tumblr presence/mutual that you always are. It is late and I am tired right now, but I hope you like this fic. :)

Characters: Stan Pines, Soos Ramirez, Abuelita Ramirez Warnings/Pairings/Ratings: None, none, gen Length: approximately 2k words

Stan had given Soos the week off and now he was starting to wonder why.

Sure, it was the kid’s first week of high school or whatever, and sure this was always a slack week in the tourist trade and maybe he didn’t need another pair of hands, but geez. He hadn’t thought about the fact that what’s-his-name, the latest cashier kid, would be leaving too. What, was he supposed to do everything by himself around here?

Ugh, fine, whatever. He might as well close up and get some work done downstairs—at least he didn’t have any kids hanging around underfoot, getting in his way, right?

See, if things had gone the way he’d maybe kinda assumed they would, with Soos showing up whether he was paid or not to babble about his new High School Experience and generally occupy Stan’s space for hours…well, Stan wouldn’t be getting anything important done, would he? No.

So yeah, it was a good thing that it seemed like the kid might’ve finally wised up—here it was late Tuesday, after all, and Stan hadn’t seen a trace of him since Saturday, which was practically a record.

Maybe, Stan thought… Maybe after three years of this kid underfoot, being weirdly obsessed with Stan and the Shack, high school would be the thing that finally sent life back to the status quo. With Soos moving on to whatever teenagers did nowadays, and Stan in the basement, uninterrupted again.

Good.

Stan was just turning to the vending machine, still grumbling under his breath, when the phone rang. Ugh, after eight o’clock? What was it, a vampire telemarketer?

“Hello,” he barked into the receiver.

“Mr. Pines,” a quiet, softly-accented voice responded, “would you send my boy home? It is getting late, and he will need to be up early for his new school tomorrow.”

Stan grimaced, surprised and vaguely offended. “What? I mean, maybe if I had him, but I haven’t even seen Soos today. I toldja I’d give him the week off!”

There was a slight pause from Soos’s grandma. “He has not been at the Shack today?” she repeated.

“No…” Stan’s gut was starting to catch up with his ears, now, and that wasn’t a good feeling at all. “Wait,” he said. “When did you last see him?”

There was a sigh from the other end of the phone—a worried sigh. He’d never heard Soos’s Abuelita sound worried before. “This morning, before school. He texted me after school that he would be late home—I have given him a phone now, he is a big boy—and said then that he would be visiting your Shack.”

“He hasn’t shown up that I noticed,” Stan said slowly. “But…if he has a phone, why call me?”

“He has not been answering,” Abuelita said, and the bad feeling in Stan’s gut solidified into a block of ice, cold and heavy.

This was Gravity Falls. And the kid had gone missing. That was a bad, bad combination

“I’ll, uh, I’ll look around,” he said quickly. “I mean, maybe he’s just outside, or wandered in here while I wasn’t lookin’, or something. I’ll find him—I mean, it’s Soos. Where would he have gone?”

There were a lot of bad answers to that question, he knew—“gone” and “gone willingly” were very different things. But he shoved that knowledge deep, deep down, where it could panic by itself and not distract him.

From the hum Abuelita gave in response, she wasn’t much more reassured than Stan. But all she said was, “Thank you, Mr. Pines. Please make sure he gets home when you find him,” and her voice when she said it was a bit closer to its usual untroubled calm.

“Yeah, sure,” he began, but she had already hung up.

He dropped the phone and ran his hands over his face. “Okay, think, Stan,” he said to himself. “It’s Soos, he’s got some weird thing against lyin’ at all, let alone to his grandma. So if he said he was on his way here, somethin’ must’ve happened on the way…”

But that was too wide an area. It could’ve been at school—second day would be pretty early for the “lock ‘em up and leave ‘em” level of bullying, but heck, it wasn’t like Stan hadn’t seen it before. (Though that target had never been alone at school…) It could’ve been in town.

It could’ve been in the woods, and that thought made his gut twist more than anything. He told Soos the woods weren’t safe, but if the kid tried to take a shortcut or something…

He shook his head. “I can’t do this alone,” he muttered, and turned back to the vending machine.

—

There was a spell, in Ford’s dumb journal. Well, there were more than a few spells, most of them either bizarrely useless or straight-up dangerous, but this one had been…special.

A spell to “trace the threads binding your heart to others,” his brother’s stupid fancy handwriting read. When tested, it produced several strands of light emitting from my chest outward, in various directions, until out of my sight. And then he went on about the colors of the lights, because he was a nerd.

A warning, however! The entry concluded. This spell lasted only an hour (it was somewhat annoying to constantly have invisible-to-others lights around me during that period, honestly!), and once it broke I was unable to recast it. There may be a time limit in which it needs to “recharge,” it may be once per user, or there may be another component required for repeated use of which I am unaware. In any case, this is something to be aware of. (Although it is a largely useless spell, so I don’t foresee that being much of an issue.)

Stan gritted his teeth, reading over the instructions one more time. He could’ve tried it before—he’d thought about trying it before—but, well. There were a whole lotta factors that could keep Ford’s “thread” or whatever showing up for him, even if it worked, and if it did what good would it do him? He knew where Ford was, or at least how to get there. No point using something that might not even work to check that he was out there. (If he weren’t Stan would know, anyway.)

But he’d always kept it in the back of his mind, anyway, just in case. In case it became useful…or in case, one day, he just needed to try for evidence the Ford was still out there, that they were still connected.

He only got to use it once, after all.

“Well,” he muttered now, slamming the book shut, “here goes nothin’, Soos. This better work.”

He shut his eyes and chanted the weird gibberish words Ford had written down (seriously, how was this magic? He could make up better magic-sounding words than that). Then, cautiously, he cracked his eyelids open again.

“…Oh, wow.”

There was a whole tangle of multicolored lights coming from his chest, enough that it took him a minute to sort through them. He didn’t look long at any of them, though, mind focused on Soos.

There was a cluster of strings all stretching off in the same direction (towards town, he figured after a second), two bright red-and-purple strands dancing around each other and zooming south next to a couple fainter multicolored ones, a quieter but colorful string stretching east, and…

Oh yeah. That one was definitely Soos.

Stan couldn’t have said how he knew this one—almost the brightest one there, woven out of red and purple and yellow all mixed with traces of blue—was Soos’s. He just felt it, as soon as he focused on it; it felt like Soos, somehow, warm and confusing but good. Important.

Time to follow the trail, then.

—

In the end, with the help of these ridiculous magic lights, it was almost too easy. “Almost,” because Stan would never, ever complain about an easy win if he could get it, and also because he knew how bad the things that could’ve happened were. But still. It was a little anticlimactic to just follow the string to Soos and then find him actually sleeping against a tree in the middle of the woods.

Stan just stopped and stared at him, for a minute, because really? Here was Stan, charging to his rescue in the middle of the night (okay, okay, nine PM, whatever), when it wasn’t even a work day, and what kinda welcome did he get? A sleeping teenager!

He looked okay, though, so that was good. And the rope of light between him and Stan looked…kinda cool, maybe, now that Stan could see both ends. It disappeared into Soos’s chest, just like on Stan’s end, but the colors changed when they reached the kid. On his end, there was still red and yellow, but the purple gave way to green and there was a lot more blue there. Weird.

Eh, whatever.

“Soos, hey, wake up, kid,” he said, crouching down. He was tempted to yell it, just for entertainment points, but after dark in these woods that was probably not a good idea. Instead, he reached out a hand to shake the boy’s shoulder. “C’mon, time to go.”

Soos blinked his eyes open immediately, looking up at him with those stupid starry eyes Stan had always thought kids were supposed to grow out of. “Mr. Pines!” he cheered, throwing himself at Stan. “I got lost but I knew you’d find me!”

“Oof,” Stan grunted, falling back under the kid’s weight as he caught him. “Yeah, sure, kid, I only gave you a week off, not forever. What’re you doin’ in the woods anyway? Talk about a dumb idea…”

Soos shrugged, arms tightening around Stan. “I, uh, I don’t really know, Mr. Pines,” he said, sounding guilty. “I was on my way to the Shack, cause I wanted to tell you how high school was, but…then I heard singing?” He sniffled. “And I know you always say not to go into the woods, but the singing was really pretty and I wanted to get closer, and then I met these people and they were really cool-looking and I think they said there was a party? But, um, I don’t really remember that part too well. I just remember walking in the woods with them and feeling sleepy, but then they stopped? And they were all, like, yelling at each other about somebody being, like, ‘marked by the Great Protector’ or something, and then they left. And then I realized I was lost in the woods, but Abuelita always said when I was little that if I was lost I should stay where I was and wait for somebody to find me. So I sat down to wait, and then I was still tired so I guess I fell asleep.”

He paused, and then sniffled again. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Pines, that you had to come looking for me,” he said dolefully. “I was really proud of being in high school now and being, like, mature and stuff…but then I went and Hung Out With Strangers and tried to go to a Strange Party and I’m really sorry! Am I…Are you gonna fire me? Or make me take extra time off work?”

“Moses, kid, of course I’m not gonna fire you,” Stan blurted out. Freakin’ wood folk, thinking they could take his kid… He didn’t know what they thought they were talking about with that “marked by the ‘Great Protector’” stuff, because Soos wasn’t marked by anybody, but they were lucky they’d run off before Stan got to them.

“I might make you come back to work early,” he added, “so you don’t have time to do stupid stuff. But…eh, you’re not dumb. You know the drill, right? You made a mistake, big deal. Learn from it and don’t do it again, capisce?”

Soos hugged him again, and okay, they were approaching a limit here. “Got it, Mr. Pines, sir!” he exclaimed, almost bouncing, and Stan groaned as he got back to his feet. Kid was too enthusiastic to live with, seriously.

“Yeah, okay, good,” he muttered, pulling the teenager up. “Let’ get you home then. Oh, and Soos?”

“Yes, Mr. Pines?”

He fixed him with a raised eyebrow. “Whatever you think you saw or heard out here, that’s the kinda stuff that’ll make people think you’re crazy if you talk about it. Got it?”

Soos nodded earnestly. “I got it, Mr. Pines. I won’t talk about it to anyone, even the guys at school!”

“Oh yeah? You made friends with any one those guys yet?”

And they began trudging home, Soos happily rambling about his new school experience. And if the lights winked out, finally, just as Stan refocused on them in search of Ford’s, before he could settle whether it was there or not…

Well, that was okay for now, he figured. He’d used the spell for something else important, in the end.

[yoonjinkooked]

Kitchen Confidential | Jin (3)

banner: @casuallyimagining​

PART 1  /  PART 2

Pairing: Seokjin / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Enemies to lovers, chef AU

Warnings: slow burn with explicit sex later, cursing 

Word Count: 5.447 

Summary: After years of annoying the life out of you, your rival, Kim Seokjin, pushes you a step too far and he knows it. As angry and resentful as you are, you don’t realize that something has been brewing under the surface for years. This weekend, that will change.

Earlier this morning, you have decided that the time has come to ask Namjoon for a raise. You work hard, do your job well and make sure that the customers walk out of Bonsai with smiles on their faces and bellies full of good food. Having spent most of the day hopping around on one leg, leaning on either Jungkook or Hoseok, going from one room to another to participate in some stupid team building trust exercises, you were agitated and ready for this weekend to be over.

From the moment you’ve opened your eyes, you were in a sour mood. Ankle still very much in pain, you were already thinking about how the hell you are supposed to survive tomorrow in the kitchen – and if you can’t, could you confidently give the control over to Jungkook? And like that wasn’t enough, Kim Seokjin was everywhere. Very literally, everywhere.

Across the table from you at breakfast, two chairs down from you during the lecture you had to sit through and ever as a member of your scavenger hunt team. A scavenger hunt you’ve participated in by sitting on the floor at “home base” and waited for the rest to return with puzzle pieces. And while you helped the team solve the puzzle, Seokjin was right next to you.

The only form of communication between you were the nods you’ve exchanged at breakfast. Other than that, he didn’t say a word and neither did you. At first you thought he was simply going to ignore you for the rest of the day, something you wouldn’t have any complaints about whatsoever, but soon enough you’ve started noticing how Kim Seokjin spends a surprising amount of time just… looking at you. And not just at times when you speak or have the attention on you anyways, oh no. He’d look at you when you’re silent, when you’re minding your own business and always, always, when he thinks that you’re not noticing it. Every time you’d lift your head up and look his way, he’d suddenly find something else more interesting than you.

Even now, sitting between him and Jungkook, you can feel his stare on you. That on itself would be high key unnerving, but after the conversation you’ve had with Jungkook last night, you can’t help but wonder if he had a point. As crazy as it sounded last night, what if Jungkook was right and Kim Seokjin does actually like you?

Perhaps like is not an appropriate word. Can he like you if he doesn’t even know you? Yeah, he’s known you for years but not you as a person, not you as a friend. Attraction might be a better explanation to the current situation. Is Kim Seokjin attracted to you? That’s a bit doubtful but then again, why wouldn’t he be? And he truly is paying more attention to you now than before. Or maybe you’re just noticing it more now. Just how Jungkook had promised you would.

“Now,” Lucy, the weirdly hyperactive middle aged woman leading today’s exercises claps her hands so loudly, you find yourself jumping in surprise. Shaking your head, you empty it of Kim Seokjin and worries about tomorrow’s service and focus on surviving this current form of torture that you are stuck in. “I know some of you guys are closer than the others. After all, you are two teams in one. But for this next exercise, I want you to completely ignore that. If you are close, perfect, it’s going to be fun and easy. If you’re not, just do your best and try. It’ll all help you in the end, help you in trusting your team more than you did before,” she explains. You nod, still wondering how the hell this can help your team work better and why Namjoon thought it was necessary.

“So,” once again, her hand clapping startles you. “You’ll be in pairs. To keep things simple, it’ll be just down the line of how you guys are sitting,” she smiles and this time, you are very startled. Looking down your left, you saw Jimin and Hoseok, Namjoon and Taehyung, Soobin and… Jungkook. It was a mistake to waddle after Jungkook just because you wanted to stay next to him, in your comfort zone. Now you’re stuck with the man on your right. You’re stuck with Kim Seokjin.

“What exactly are we supposed to do?” Wendy, the hostess from Catnip asks. You see her sitting next to Taehyun and you wonder if the two have ever actually talked to one another before.

“Talk,” you want to roll your eyes when the annoying lady in charge laughs at Wendy. “Just talk. If you go way back, talk about how you met. If you barely know each other, get to know each other. After a while we’ll regroup here and I’ll ask you a couple of questions. I’d suggest you find an empty room or table, maybe go outside and get some fresh air? Let’s say, come back here in an hour? And then we can continue with the exercise.”

An hour of talking with Seokjin. Yes, you’re definitely asking Namjoon for a raise.

“Are you okay with not going far?” you ask Seokjin as you stand up, already wincing at the sharp pain your ankle causes you – if this intensity of pain continues tomorrow, you’re going to have to get it checked by a doctor. “I’d rather not test my leg today.”

“Yeah, sure,” Seokjin agrees immediately, standing up beside you. “Do you need help?” he asks.

You want to say no, you truly do. Knowing that your leg won’t appreciate your pettiness, you nod. “Please,” he immediately offers you his arm, which you cling onto as you start bouncing your way out of the hall, not knowing where exactly you’re heading. “Where should we go?��� you ask.

“How about the hotel café?” he suggests as he patiently walks in your speed. “It’s pretty much next door and we can drink some coffee?”

“Sure.”

It’s awkward. Perhaps even more awkward than it would have been if last night’s conversation didn’t take place. Both of you are trying extra hard to be polite and it’s just… unnatural. Throwing around snarky comments and eye rolls is more your area of expertise. Now you’re all polite and he’s the perfect gentlemen, even pulling out your chair for you and insisting on buying coffee. It’s weird and awkward and all kinds of wrong.

“So…” he drags out as you reluctantly make eye contact with him. Is this the first time today that you’ve actually looked at each other? He’s been looking away too quickly for you to catch him this entire day. “We’re supposed to talk about when we met?”

It’s ironic now, extremely ironic. Direct eye contact makes Seokjin look more intimidating than he usually does, at least now when you are alone with him. And that feeling of being slightly intimidated by him is something you can vaguely remember from a period that seems like a lifetime ago.

“Didn’t we drink too much during school to remember that?” you ask, smiling when he laughs because yes, you absolutely did drink too much during school. Every damn weekend there was some party, held by someone from your year and you all took every chance that you’ve had for cheap alcohol and an excuse to not study. “But now that you mention it, I do remember one particular scene from the very first day of school.”

Okay, you’re lying. While you don’t remember much, you didn’t suddenly experience a surge of long lost memories coming back to you. The incident in question is something that you’ve never really forgotten since the day it happened, although you don’t think of it often.

“Oh god, what?” Seokjin looks worried and you laugh, knowing that he knows damn well that it’s bad.

“How do you call a cheese that isn’t yours?” you repeat the exact same words that you heard him saying the first day of school, laughing as you watch the pure horror on his face. It’s easy to laugh at him facing his dark past, although a part of you doesn’t believe that he regrets it, not for one second.

“I can’t believe I said that,” he whines.

“Nachocheese. Nacho fucking cheese,” you finish the joke, laughing so hard you feel your eyes watering. It doesn’t help when he looks at you and sighs, pretending that it’s different now, that this is not something he still does and that he does not have a wide array of similar jokes ready to go at any given moment.

“No wonder you hated my ass,” he chuckles, reaching for his cup of coffee.

“I never hated you,” you frown at him, pausing to sip on your own Americano. “Wow, hotel food is horrible but hotel coffee is decent,” you mumble in amazement, enjoying the taste. “Anyways, I didn’t hate you, not then, not now. Don’t get me wrong, you were a pain in my ass but I can distinctly remember laughing at that nacho cheese joke.”

“Huh, I wonder when I ruined that,” he says jokingly but with the way he looks down at the table, you can’t help but wonder if there’s a part of him that’s dead serious. With the events of last night still fresh in your mind, it’s hard to consider him anything but genuine. And with Jungkook’s words also fresh in your mind, you truly don’t want to have a chance to overthink about Seokjin. Especially not while he’s sitting directly in front of you.

“Probably when you changed the labels on salt and sugar jars when we had to make soufflés for an exam. I’m sure you remember that vividly.”

“No!” he lifts his finger up in warning. “I know it was too far but I also knew you’d be smart enough to taste before using! I knew you weren’t going to fall for it.”

“And yet you did it anyways,” you laugh, shaking your head as you remind yourself to not waste your time trying to find logic in Seokjin’s actions. “You’re so fucking lucky I didn’t fall for it. If I had used salt instead of sugar, I would have flunked and would have kicked your ass,” you tell him and you absolutely mean it. If his sabotage or fake sabotage had worked, you would have murdered him in cold blood, then and there.

“I trusted that the most brilliant chef on our year would taste the ingredients before using them,” he tries to flatter you to save himself and it works. It fucking works, because here you are, laughing.

“You’re such an ass,” you shake your head at him, chuckling at his antics. “But yeah. You did it, I didn’t fall for it, you lived. Do you remember when Jimin did that to Taehyung?”

“Yes,” Seokjin bursts into laughter. “And Taehyung did fall for it but it wasn’t for an exam, was it?”

“Nope, it was just regular class,” you confirm, smiling at the memory. “He was chasing Jimin around the hallways with that big ass whisk that hung on the wall as decoration.”

“What the hell was that whisk there for?” Seokjin’s eyes are wide and he sits up, suddenly… being irritated by a whisk? “It was always there, since day one. Just that one gigantic whisk. No one ever used it, right? It was just… there. What was the purpose of it?”

“Other than almost being used as a murder weapon once, I don’t think it was ever used for anything.”

“Do you remember that one time Jungkook had dropped one of those 10kg bags of flour?”  

“Oh god, he dropped it on Hoseok’s foot!” you jump up, suddenly remembering the scene that you didn’t think about in years. You can even recall the sound of pain that had left Hoseok. “And the bag ripped!” tears run down your face as you laugh at yet another idiotic memory of your school days.

“We were cleaning that damn flour all day,” Jin adds and you can clearly remember being on all fours with the rest of your class, laughing and cursing as you wipe the mess your friends made earlier, while someone was playing some random song way too loud.

Wiping away your tears, you take a deep breath, wondering if by the time your hour runs out, you’ll have to reluctantly admit that this exercise wasn’t so shitty after all.

“Can you manage?” Seokjin asks as he lets you lean on him again, on full alert to catch you if you stumble. You confirm with a nod. “Are you sure?” he checks again but you don’t have the time to answer as Lucy, the lady in charge, comes rushing towards the two of you.

“Hi!” She smiles in a way that makes you feel instantly uncomfortable. “Namjoon tells me that the two of you are team leaders in your respective restaurants.”

“Well, not really. We’re the team leaders in the kitchen, not in the restaurants,” Seokjin explains.

“Yeah, we’re not in charge for the front of house teams,” you add, looking around the hall where everyone else had already started to gather. “If you want team leaders, you’d need us, Yoongi and Namjoon as well as Mina and Wendy. We’re all in charge of different tasks.”

“Yeah, but kitchen teamwork is the most important,” Lucy laughs.

“Um, not necessarily,” Seokjin counters her immediately. “Front of house is just as important as-“

“Yes, but Namjoon tells me the two of you don’t exactly get along,” Lucy interrupts him. You shake your head, having just spent an hour down memory lane with Seokjin – Namjoon’s kiss ass, teacher’s pet nature is still showing after all these years. “I think it would set a good example for other pairs if the two of you go first. Are you up for it?” she asks and Seokjin turns to you, shrugging his shoulders.

“Why not?” you would shrug too, if you weren’t too busy clutching onto Seokjin’s arm.

“Perfect, follow me,” she orders the two of you and you follow her, standing behind her as she faces the rest of your co-workers. The entire scene must be comical, seeing as you are still very much hopping and clinging onto Seokjin and neither of you have any idea what’s about to happen. Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you, starting to laugh when you glare at him. Oh, but he doesn’t stop there – while Lucy talks, he wiggles his eyebrows and you don’t need to be a genius to know he’s teasing you for your arm candy. Here you go again, thinking about what he said last night.

“Y/N,” you snap out of your daze when Lucy calls your name. Shit, you weren’t listening. “Go on. Tell us what you admire about Seokjin.”

Oh fucking hell, no wonder why most of your co-workers look like they’re a few seconds away from laughing. Just a few days ago, you wanted to snap his neck, not caring who’d be there to witness it and now you are supposed to talk about him and what you admire most about him. In public. In front of people who have known you, and have more than enough blackmail material, for years.

“Can I just like… get a chair?” you ask awkwardly and thank god, Lucy walks over quickly to drag one to you. Once you’re seated and no longer attached to Seokjin, he does the same and sits his chair next to yours while you wait in awkward silence and pray this moment won’t last long because everyone is watching you and you want to cry. “Okay. I guess it’s not a secret that Seokjin and I aren’t exactly best of friends,” you start, immediately embarrassed by the few snickers coming from your co-workers.

“That’s an understatement,” Jimin mumbles loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You’re a jackass,” you smile at him, ignoring the kiss he blows your way. “Anyways, I know Seokjin and I aren’t always on the same page but when I think of what I admire about him…” you pause, thinking of right words to express your thoughts. “I admire his talent. He is a brilliant chef. Of course, I’m better, don’t get it twisted,” everyone in the room laughs at your remark, even Seokjin. Which is a relief, as much as you hate to admit it. ”I humbly think that I’m better a better chef, but I work hard. And way back when, I studied hard. Seokjin never had to. He’s a natural. I’ve… seen him improvise and create amazing dishes without much effort. Or at least he just knows how to make it look easy. But yeah, I admire his ability. And even though I will deny saying this for the rest of my life, I kind of envy him for it too.”

Everyone laughs and when you find the strength in you to look at him, you notice Seokjin smiling. Something that you’ve never noticed before is how calm and content he looks when he’s smiling. It’s miles away from his roaring laughter, just a simple smile and a nod of his head that tells you he’s thankful for your words. He has a beautiful smile and you’ve never paid attention to it before.

You look away immediately once you realize this, but you make the mistake of looking towards Jungkook. Whatever it is that just happened, he saw it. And you’re pretty sure you’ll get an earful later, judging by the way he questioningly raised his eyebrows at you.

“I might regret being completely honest here, so I’ll pull Y/N’s card and if anyone uses this against me, I’ll deny it,” a chorus of chuckles follows Seokjin’s words. You listen carefully but don’t dare to look at him – staring at your convers seems much more appealing right now. “I admire Y/N’s ability to be one with you guys. The way she gets along with her team is amazing. I know I have an amazing team that has my back always but Hoseok straight up sabotaged his own team yesterday during paintball because he’s that loyal to his actual team. Y/N is the glue that keeps you together, functioning as well as you do. I try to do the same. Not sure if it works but I truly admire that about her.”

You’re not sure if Seokjin knows how much hearing that meant to you. Shame swallows you when you realize you didn’t do half as much to portray him as someone you admire, even though not a single word of what you’ve said was a lie. Knowing that someone, someone who is arguably just as good as you are in the industry that you are in, thinks that you are admirable for the way you lead your team has to be one of the best compliments that you have ever received.

He didn’t praise you in an over the top way and honestly, he didn’t have to. He said the one thing that you actually hoped to hear, from someone, at some point in your career.

Did Seokjin know that? Was it a happy accident or does he actually pay attention enough to know how much your relationship with your team matters to you? Before this weekend team building disaster, you would have laughed at the suggestion that Seokjin had paid enough attention to notices something like that. After everything that has happened since, you’re not so sure. Maybe Seokjin did pay attention, more than you ever have.

There’s a thing that Jungkook does whenever he has something to say, but doesn’t want to say it. He tends to purse his lips, either in annoyance or in a desperate attempt to hold back his laughter. He looks away from the person he wants to say it to and it’s usually followed with his leg bouncing up and down.

The lip thing started while you were still at the hotel parking lot. The leg thing started half a mile ago.

“Whatever it is that you’re holding back, just say it.” you know you sound irritated and he hasn’t even said anything. But knowing him, and sadly, you know him well, whatever it is… it’s going to bother you.

“I’m not holding back anything,” he insists, but he almost breaks out in a chuckle. He is barely holding back. You can tell that it’s coming.

“Say it!” you growl at him.

“Seokjin and Y/N, sitting in a tree,” he starts singing. Yep, you were right. It is bothering you. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes rivalry, then comes flirting, then comes-“

“Oh my god, stop!” you whine. The last thing you want to hear is how he plans on finishing the song. “I knew you were holding something back. There’s nothing happening with Seokjin!”

“I know there isn’t, you’re still in denial,” he laughs, not moving his eyes from the road. “You are now entering Denialtown. Population: Y/N.”

The easiest way to get Jungkook of your case is to simply ignore him. If you play along, he’ll take that as a confirmation and think that he’s right. If you get defensive, he won’t let it go, at least not before this car ride is over. The best thing you could do was ignore him and stare through the window in silence. At least the view is beautiful, with the purple, orange and pinkish sky. You didn’t get any rest over this weekend but at least you got a chance to spend some time outside, much more than you do on your regular weekends. Although a spa weekend would have been better. A spa weekend spent alone.

“I know you’re trying to shut me out,” you hear Jungkook chuckle. “By all means, do that. Still doesn’t change that Seokjin has the hots for you and judging by those exchanged looks between you, you don’t seem to mind.”

You wanted to deny but you kept your mouth shut, knowing how this will play out. Of course you looked at him – it would have been incredibly rude not to, seeing as you spent a good chunk of the day talking with him. What Jungkook is forgetting and you can’t is that you are still very much hurt with the events that preceded this weekend. Sure, Seokjin is acting all nice and yes, he’s not that bad to look at. Also, he did apologize for stealing your recipe but that doesn’t change the fact that he did it. You are still salty about it and whenever that saltiness starts to die down, you’ll remind yourself of it, just like you’re doing now. He can act all friendly and chummy but he straight up harmed your career.

The only reason he was being nice is because he knows what he has done. Perhaps he even fears your possible retaliation. Nice and cute he can be, but if you were not angry to the point of seeing red, this weekend wouldn’t even happen. He wouldn’t have been acting the way he was. You are 100% sure that he would have been his normal, annoying self, if that human part of him wasn’t feeling guilty.

“Do you think you’ll manage tomorrow on your own?” you blatantly change the topic. If he could afford to look away from the road before him, Jungkook would see that you are not amused, not in the least. Your tone must be enough for him to figure it out, because his teasing demeanor stops instantly, his smile turning into a frown. “I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to stand tomorrow. At least not for the whole shift,” you tell him.

It was settled before you left, that Jungkook will take your place. Namjoon insisted that you rest, however long it takes and no matter how much you were fighting him on it, he’s the boss and his word is last. He also had a good point – if you were to strain yourself, it could easily backfire and lead to more pain or a longer paid sick leave. Sure, it hurts less than it did yesterday and tomorrow morning, it’ll probably be better, but you know that Namjoon was right and that you really shouldn’t risk it.

That meant that your kitchen, your precious kitchen and team, will be in Jungkook’s hands tomorrow.

“It’s not the first time that I have to run the kitchen. Don’t you trust me?” Jungkook asks and you instantly feel bad for even asking if he’d be able to do it. You didn’t ask because you have doubts in his ability – you asked because you want to make sure that he’s comfortable.

“I’d trust you with my life, you dumbass,” you tell him and instantly feel your shoulders sag in relief when he starts laughing. “I don’t doubt your ability, I never have. I’m simply asking because before we’ve had time to prepare for you being in charge and me being away. This time it’s pretty sudden and I really don’t feel like pushing you into the fire.”

“I can handle fire just fine,” he reassures you. “And in case I need help, you’re one call away. Just… do your best to take this time to relax, not just rest your leg. Fuck, when’s the last time you’ve had a proper vacation?” he asks.

“Uh… define proper vacation.”

“More than three days off? In a row?” he suggests.

“Never?” you wonder out loud. “Not since I’ve started working full time, at least. I think I took a week off when we worked back at Dino’s?”

“Y/N, you need to take a little break,” Jungkook sounds serious, which suddenly makes you feel guilty because of your own irresponsibility. Looking away from him and focusing on the colorful sky again, you wonder how much your workaholic behavior had affected you without even realizing.

It’s not that you were missing any warning signs: you don’t feel overworked, you don’t hate your job, you do have hobbies you enjoy doing when you’re not working. If trying out new recipes, watching movies and hanging out with friends can count as hobbies. On the surface, it’s all fine and dandy but not taking more than three days off in a row is simply not normal. Being in love with your job and fully dedicated to it does not mean that you can’t be negatively affected by it.

Thinking back on the day of the review… a part of you really wanted to strangle Seokjin, then and there. There’s a whole backstory that almost made violence become your solution but maybe it was something more. Lack of patience, stress… Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you but suddenly taking a few days off doesn’t sound like such a horrible idea.

“You know, maybe asking Namjoon to take this whole week off is what I need to do.”

“That sounds good,” Jungkook agrees immediately. “You can rest your leg, relax, think of recipes for the fall menu… take some time off for yourself. I can handle the kitchen for a week.”

“Of course you can. One fine day when I grow a pair and decide to open my own restaurant, you’re going to be a head chef. Being in charge of everything for a little bit is going to be a good practice for that,” you tell him even though you’re pretty he could do a damn good job, even now.

“And here I thought I was going to be your sous chef forever,” he tells you. You immediately laugh but as you turn to look at him, there is a trace of a pout on his lips. Yeah, he’s joking but it doesn’t seem like this kind of joke sounds good to him. You want to coo at his pouty face.

“Kook. You can’t be my second in command forever,” you tell him, leaning over to tap him on the shoulder. “You’re too good of a chef for that. We’re a great team but keeping you a sous chef forever would be an insult to your talent. I’m not planning on going anywhere for now, so you have plenty of time to get used to the idea. But when I open my own place, Bonsai’s kitchen is yours. Unless you get sick of me first and leave,” you joke. “Or we can be partners and open our own place?”

“Nah,” Jungkook shakes his head so quickly, you almost feel insulted at the speed of his refusal. “You’ll open a place with Seokjin when the two of you get married.”

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes. How lovely, you can no longer even have a touching conversation without him turning it right back to the part where he teases you relentlessly. “You know, I might just speed up to the leaving part and leave your sorry ass in the kitchen alone.”

“I’m just joking!”

 You haven’t even realized how much you’ve missed the comfort of your own apartment, not until you closed the front door and leaned on it with your eyes closed. Too much has happened and instead of being a relaxing, team building event, this weekend felt more like two and a half days of pure stress, with a few jokes and a couple of drinks to make it easier.

Waddling your way to the kitchen, you decide to do the one thing that always helps you de-stress: cook.

It doesn’t take you long to pick out the ingredients and get ready for prep. Wash hands, butterfly the chicken breasts, move them to a plate, season them with salt and pepper, wash everything. Use a new chopping board and knife, get the cheese and prosciutto ready. Fill the chicken with cheese, wrap it with prosciutto. Pan on medium heat, oil. Get out the sauce ingredients and gnocchi.

It’s only when you’re opening the bag of gnocchi that you realize what you’re making. Using the ingredients at hand, things you had ready to go, food that needed to be used before going bad, you ended up halfway through the infamous chicken recipe that was reviewed by the critic.

Frowning, you take out another pan. You’re going to roast the damn gnocchi this time. Just a little, to get the outside to a subtle crunch, since the renowned mister food critic preferred them that way. Cooking them to al dente, you throw them into the heated pan, chunk a bunch of fresh rosemary in it and pour a bit of olive oil, waiting for the cast iron to do its trick.

By the time the chicken is done, the gnocchi is too, and with a quick tomato sauce, you’re ready to go. Finishing it off with a dash of balsamic vinegar, because even when you’re at home, you’re still a damn good head chef, you waddle your way to the kitchen island, ignoring the dishes that are now filling up the sink: that’s tomorrow Y/N’s problem.

Scooping a tiny piece of chicken and one tiny gnocco, you dab them in sauce and try it, approaching it as head chef Y/N, not a hungry, regular person Y/N.

Seconds pass as you chew, analyzing every kind of flavor that you get through the bite, all the sweet, salty and savory undertones in that one bite. And the textures, the textures that your original recipe lacked, because you did not pan sear the gnocchi.

“Damn you, Kim Seokjin,” you sigh, stabbing the chicken with your fork rather ferociously. “You really did make it better, didn’t you?”

You wanted to be mad, you really did. Salty, like you were before. And a huge part of you still was. Angry at him for taking the recipe, angry at yourself for not thinking about adding a new layer of texture to the dish before he did… yeah, a part of you was angry. But a different part of you, the one who didn’t want to stab that poor piece of chicken, was thinking of that smile Seokjin makes – that cute, content smile, when he closes his eyes, his lips subtly lift up at the corners and dimples appear.

The bitter taste in your mouth had nothing to do with the dish you’ve just made. It had everything to do with Seokjin and you once again wondering to yourself, how the hell did it get to this?

That’s a question you don’t know how to answer but you’re sure as hell glad Jungkook isn’t here to tease you about it. A girl can only handle so much when she’s wondering if the relationship with her arch nemesis now involves different kinds of… feelings.

[bnhasimpgirltm]

Notes From the Heart (Kyoka Jiro x Reader)

Pairings: Jiro Kyoka x Reader

Warnings: none

Genre: fluff (as you asked)

A/N: I gotchu anon who isn’t very anonymous because I know exactly who this is. It isn’t tooth rotting, but it’s not angsty. Reader plays piano/ keyboard in this one.  Also, if someone can tell me the songs that the lyrics came from and the artists, I’ll be very happy. Maybe OCC Jiro. The person who requested this wanted me to write more fluff, so they gave me a prompt. The prompt was: “I didn’t know I was yours.” The ending was so hard for me to write for some reason, so I hope it’s good enough for you.

---------------------------------

The sound of the bass plugged into the amp paired with a piano bounces off of the walls in Jiro’s room. You and Jiro play perfectly together, every note and chord on time with each other. 

As Jiro finishes her riff, you play the last notes of the song, and get up off the piano bench, pushing it back in. 

“Hey that was really good!” You laugh and give Jiro a high-five. 

“Yeah it was,” Jiro smiles and puts her bass back into the case. 

When you and Jiro met at the beggining of the year, your shared love of insturments and a similar taste in music naturally gravitated you towards her. Every since then, you two were inseperable.

“Hey Jiro, can you get my notebook from my room?” You ask, sitting back on the bench. “I think I left it on top of my bed. There’s some song ideas in there for us, and I think we should try new chord progressions today.” You throw your key to her, and she catches it with one hand, the other resting on the case of the bass.

"Yeah, of course,” Jiro replies, pushing the amp under her desk. She walks out of her room, and into the silent hallway of the dorms. Reading the names beside the door, she finally gets to yours, and turns the key in the lock. 

Walking over to your bed, she reaches over and grabs the notebook labeled ‘Music Stuff/ Ideas’. Her foot makes contact with something under the bed. 

Strange. She thinks to herself. Leaning down, Jiro pokes her head under the bed and spots a shoebox. Too light to have shoes, so what is it.

Using her hand to pull the box closer to her, Jiro finally pulls the mystery box from under the bed, and when she opens it, it isn’t what she expects.

Notes? Crumpled pieces of paper? What? Jiro thinks in confusion. Picking up one of the balls of paper, she uncrumples it and smooths in out on her leg.

October 28, 2019

Dear Jiro (or should I call you Kyoka since I’m confessing?),

I haven’t known you very long, but I can definitely say that I am into you. I mean, you’re super cool, and you have the best taste in music, and you’re a good friend. Even if we’ve only really known each other for a couple of months, I really like you. I was wondering if maybe you’d want to go out with me, because “You’re a legend in my own mind”. 

Kyoka couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Placing the note on your desk, she picked up another ball of paper. This one was more recent, and also contained a song lyric.

December 14, 2019

Dear Jiro, 

Once again, I’m trying to confess to you, but it’s really not going as planned. I was going to write this beautiful poetic note to you to woo you, but now that I’m putting the pen to the paper, I can’t think of anything to say. I think the only thing that really needs to be said is that you are quite literally the greatest person I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. I think you’re very pretty, and I really like you. Really, really, really like you. I hope you feel the same way since,“I walk a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known. Don't know where it goes, but it's home to me, and I walk alone.” Kyoka Jiro, will you make the walk a little less lonely for me?

You liked her! How could she have gotten this lucky? Someone with a great taste in music who was also a great person. Her best friend, in fact. She couldn’t stop reading these, they were so sweet, and she felt so grateful that someone would spend this much time thinking about her. Uncrumpling another paper, she read another note, this one was most likely the most recent one, written last week. It was the longest one yet, and the only one that was signed with your name.

June 26, 2020

Dear Jiro,

This will probably be one of the last times I write to you since the school year is ending and camp is soon. I still can’t find the courage to tell you I like you, except through these sad little notes. You’re the best human being I’ve ever met, and I’m trying to justify to myself why you would ever like someone like me, why I would ever be able to have a chance with you. I really don’t want to ruin our amazing friendship, since I’ve never found someone that understands me more than you, do Jiro. Someday, I’ll find the courage to come clean and tell you how I feel. I though I just liked you, a small crush, but I am completely, utterly in love with you Kyoka Jiro. My heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest when I’m near you, and sometimes I feel like you’ll never know. “Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought.” “Maybe I just wanna be yours.” I really do want to be yours. I want you to mine too. “I Want it All”, but I can’t have it all. So here it is, probably the last note that I write that you’ll never see. Doing this has been so nice, it’s almost like telling you how I feel without telling you how I feel. God forbid if you ever find these notes though. I’d be so screwed I wouldn’t know what to do. I feel like it’s only appropriate that I sign the last note off. It’s not like I’ll ever give these to you.

With much love, 

(L/N) (Y/N)

No way. You loved her. She loves you too, as more than a friend, and she was the one that thought you didn’t reciprocate her feelings. 

Realizing that she’s spent and awfully long time getting your notebook, Jiro crumples the pieces of paper back up and starts to put them back in the box.

That is until you open the door.

“Hey Jiro, are you okay? I was wond-” You look up and see the box in her hands. “Um, crap. I can explain.”

“You don’t need to,” Jiro looks you in the eye and gets off the bed, standing on the wooden floor and smiling slightly,

“You never were supposed to see that,” you sheepishly laugh and look at your feet. 

“I know, but I’m so glad I did,” Jiro laughs and smiles widely at you, a rare sight. You’re still looking at your feet, and your cheeks are tinted a light pink. There’s a heavy silence in the room, almost awkward, but not quite. It’s nice, the silence hanging in the air between you two. Until you speak. 

“Since I’m pretty sure you’ve read the notes, I need to put my plan in action,” you cryptically state.

Jiro raises and eyebrow as you unlock your phone and connect it to the bluetooth speakers that sit on your desk. Music starts to play from them. 

It’s “Girl That You Love”, by Panic! At the Disco. 

“Since I wrote you some notes on paper, I figured that the best way to get into the moment was to listen to some music notes from a song. Jiro, you’re the girl that I love. And I hope I can be the girl that you love.” You finish off by looking up from the floor and at Jiro, a hopeful look in your eyes.

Finally, Jiro walks across the room, closing the distance between you two, and grabbing you in a tight hug.

“You were always the girl that I love. I was always yours, and you were always mine,” she says, the rare grin reappearing on her face.

“I didn’t know I was yours.” You wrap your arms around her, and hug her like you’ve never hugged anyone before.  

“Now you can call me Kyoka,” she says, letting you go.

“Okay, Kyoka,” you say, trying it out. “I like it.”

“I like it too, (Y/N),” Kyoka proclaims, then she kisses your cheek, then your forehead, then your other cheek, then your lips.

Smiling, you pull away and say, “I want more.”

“You can have as many as you want once we finish writing our song,” Kyoka says.

“Deal,” you state, then grab her hand in yours. “But first, let’s just sit here, and maybe have a little talk about keeping secrets from each other. After all, we do have forever.” You sit down on the floor, pulling Kyoka with you.

Kyoka laughs, then she agrees, “A long forever together to love each other.” 

You had no idea what would happen during the rest of your forever, but this was all you needed. 

“Girl You Love” playing in the background around you, you and Kyoka begin the first part of your perfect forever together. 

The first of many to come. 

[dearlazerbunny]

Entwined

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: G; No Warnings Apply

Words: 1650

Summary: Loki knows exactly how to quell your insecurities in the face of one of Stark’s infamous galas. (Technically a gift for yeethawboi on Ao3 for their excellent contribution to Lie to Me. You know. that thing I wrote forever ago.)

*peeks in the room*

*rushes in, throws this on the table, then darts back out the door before I can get mad at myself for being MIA for five ever*

The floor-length mirror in front of you might as well be a brick wall, for all the inspiration you’re getting out of it.

Sprawled out behind you on the bed are various gowns of silk and satin, all of them dazzling but none of them catch your eye. You’re perched on the foot of your mattress, hair still inelegantly hanging around your shoulders and not a lick of makeup decorates your face. Your reflection taunts you, and you’re tempted to throw a shoe at it in frustration. You tighten the belt of your robe instead, cinching it around you like armor.

One of Stark’s infamous galas- probably the fifth of this year, you can hardly keep count at this point- is set to launch in just a few hours, and your unlucky ass has been roped into attending. You’ve finagled yourself out of appearing thus far, but yesterday Tony had literally cornered you in the common room and started barking instructions at you while Pepper handed you an armload of garment bags, boxes of shoes, and more jewelry than your entire life is probably worth. He made it very clear- you aren’t getting out of this one. Joy.

So here you are, chin in your hand, steadfastly not picking out a dress to wear and avoiding the stack of boxes bearing designer labels that had been dumped in the corner of your room the second you got home. You don’t want to go. You don’t like parties, you don’t like the press, you don’t like the way too many eyes on you makes you want to squirm out of your own skin. Stark’s blowouts are full of pretty people in beautiful things, cameras flashing in your face, and too many fake, loose smiles drunk on booze and rubbing elbows with superheroes.

Basically, your definition of hell.

You’re still sitting and dreading and contemplating when Loki glides into the room, looking absolutely astonishing in a dark ensemble that looks like it was cut from the shadowed side of the moon. Something is woven into the fabric that makes it simultaneously absorb and refract the light, and it shows off his sharp angles so well you could cut yourself on his cheekbones. Small bits of bronze and gold- a cuff on his left wrist twisted in the shape of a serpent, no doubt some sort of throwing knife at his ankle- glow softly.

You raise an eyebrow appreciatively. “Hot damn.”

He grins wolfishly, giving you a slow turn. “Acceptable?”

“Tony is going to be mad you’re showing him up. Again.”

“Stark wishes he could rival the grandeur of a prince.” He crosses to the bed and runs his fingers over your discarded choices. “These are nice.”

“I suppose.”

The mattress dips, and Loki’s shoulder rubs against yours as he settles next to you. “Then why are you not dressed?”

You huff out a breath, caught between desperately wanting to crawl into his lap and hide there and being terrified of wrinkling his suit. “You look amazing. And I… don’t.”

“Well,” he says amusedly, “putting on a garment might help with that.”

“Putting on a dress is not going to let me compete with whatever Pepper pulls out of her closet tonight. Putting on a dress won’t let me compete with Nat in sweatpants. Never mind the fact all the tipsy blonde vixens who would break a nail just to dance with you.” You hate how bitter you sound, but the idea of having to stand next to the most gorgeous people you know feeling incredibly inadequate in every way is twisting your insides into knots. “You shouldn’t have to have me hanging on your arm dragging you down.”

“Mmm.” Loki doesn’t respond, just studies your reflection. Then he rises and offers you a hand, which you stare at dumbly. “Come, up. Wallowing in self-doubt is not befitting of a princess.”

You tilt your head at him. “We aren’t married.”

“And I have been banished from the title of prince three centuries over. Do you have a point?”

That gets a smile out of you, and you stand, gesturing to the well-loved fluffy spa robe you’ve had since high school. “Think I could just show up in this? Stark has certainly appeared in worse when he’s drunk off his ass.”

Loki rolls his eyes, an impish grin on his lips. “Tainting his drink with Asgardian mead was one of Thor’s better ideas.”

“God, no, please- do not do that again. My eyes can’t handle the impurity.” You’re still staring at yourself, taking in different angles. “I could try on the black one again, I guess…” It was the simplest of the bunch, but still boasted a huge swath of intricate beading that draws attention to places you’d rather not have people look.

Cool fingers walk the neckline of your robe. “I might have an idea. May I?”

You squint at him. “No funny business. None. Nada.”

He winks. “You have my word.”

Rolling your eyes and heaving a long-suffering sigh that very clearly projects the thought why do I put up with you, you unknot the belt and slide the fabric off your shoulders, leaving you in your underthings. It gets tossed to the edge of the bed. “I’m sure you’d have a time with it, but I definitely can’t show up like this.”

Loki pokes you in the side, making you giggle- you’re ticklish and he knows it. “Now,” he says, his voice warm. “Close your eyes.”

“No. Funny. Business.” But you close them. A moment later, the air shimmers and warps around you, enveloping you in something soft. You feel some sort of fabric lay across your arms and fold itself across your waist, then drape atop your toes that are pressed into the carpet. Your hair is tugged gently away from your scalp, then settled back into place.

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you feel Loki’s own whispering on your neck. “Breathe, love.”

“S- sorry. What did- can I… see?”

“Be my guest.”

You open your eyes.

Oh.

A gown of deep emerald has magicked into existence, looking like it was tailored for every inch of your body. A rounded neckline shows hints of your collarbone and only touch the tops of your shoulders before giving way to gossamer sleeves that drape like waterfalls from the crooks of your arms. It’s stunningly simple with a bodice that curves to your waist then flares into a skirt just wide enough to evoke images of eighteenth-century princesses of old. Creeping from the hemline are fine bits of lace that look as though they’re spun of gold.  

Your hair is braided and woven together to form some intricate pattern. Gold pins hold them in place. Small touches of makeup help frame your eyes and darken your lashes so they stand out against your skin. When you lift the skirt of the gown, delicate shoes peek out from the hem.

“Um.” The expression on your face is a bit ridiculous- your eyes are wide and your jaw has almost dropped to the floor. Certainly not the look someone should be wearing in an outfit like this. You have to make an effort to remember how to blink.

“This is how I see you,” Loki murmurs, one hand pressed ever so gently to the small of your back. “You could be standing next to the most gorgeous woman in the galaxy, and my eyes would only ever be on you.”

“How do you always know exactly what to say,” you whisper back, having regained enough mobility to angle yourself this way and that and admire how the fabric dances in the light.

“Because I know you,” he grins, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. “And it is so easy to indulge the desire to make you feel beautiful. Ah-” when he lets you go, a small box appears in his hand. “This may be in order as well. I did not know what I was saving it for, but I believe now is more than appropriate.”

It’s a necklace. When you lift it from the box, the chain is so fine the emerald pendant may as well be floating in the air. The jewel is entwined amongst what seems like dozens of little strands woven to form an approximation of tree branches. They’re delicate yet strong, almost daring you to try and brush them aside to steal the treasure within.

He settles it around your neck, and it hangs just lower than your chest, adding grace to the gown without distracting from your face. The second it’s clasped, it feels as though its been a part of you since the day you were born.

When you touch it, it seems to glow under your fingertips. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is customary, in Asgard, for a lady to wear a token in her suitor’s colors.” He turns to face you. “But beyond that, its concealment capabilities are as strong as the oldest Asgardian magics. While wearing this,” he cups your cheek, grazing a thumb across your cheek, “nothing shall harm you. I swear on my life.”

You catch his hand in yours. “I don’t need your life hanging in the balance for mine, Trickster. Stay close. Stay with me. And I’ll be fine. Trust me.”

“You have too much faith, Witling.”

“And you have too little.” You brush the lightest of kisses to his lips. “Don’t think I’m not going to grill your butt on how much magic it took you to make this thing.” You glance sideways, taking in the dark god and the divinity standing beside him. Interlocked, entranced, and ever entwined. “Later. First- I believe we have a gala to attend?”

Loki’s grin will never not be dangerous.”So we do. Shall we?”

[oh-lali-lali-lali-lalipop]

@mysteriousdbzgt: Hi oh-lali-lali-lali-lalipop! Thank you for your ask. First of all, thanks for asking this question here on my personal (and also for the follow over on t&bftw, welcome aboard! :D) I think you can probably tell from here, that I’m a huge supporter of them becoming romantically involved lol I don’t shy about that here, but I like to present a more neutral stance over on my news dedicated blog, to not influence others of my personal opinions. With regards to the new season, as much as I would be supportive of it, I unfortunately highly doubt that they would become “official” in S2 or anything in the future, but will remain extremely dedicated and attentive to one another, regardless of their constant bickering. The creators of the show are more than aware of the popularity of the “couple”, being constantly popular at doujinshi events and the continuous amounts of merchandise that they bring out, which regularly focuses on the main duo rather than all of the Heroes all the time. The fandom is primarily dominated by women, when originally the show was supposed to target men and “salarymen”, but attracted a completely different demographic that they hadn’t anticipated. I can only think that’s mainly because of the appeal of K&B. Also not helped by some of the staff’s, let’s just say, “unfiltered” thoughts when they discuss about K & B in older interviews, centering around “love” and other similar notions. I think they still want to keep this series aimed towards a male demographic, even if the results don’t line up as they expect. But highly ironically, it’s what makes the show successful, so I doubt they would want to change how they portray Kotetsu and Barnaby’s relationship. Personally I would be absolutely over the moon if they did become “official”, because they’re just perfect for one another (hehe) and it could just break so many standard conventions/boundaries on how media portrays same-sex relationships, if done appropriately, and not be labelled with any genre tags like “BL”, “yaoi” or anything similar, and still simply just be a “drama”, “superhero” tale, with the two main males eventually getting together but not make a big song and dance about it. If we want to normalise LGBT relationships within our media and what we consume, then we need to drop these tags and portray them in a healthy manner, which I think the show does well between them both. I believe that the staff have the talent to pull it off, they just need to be cautious on how they do it. Like you said, how FE is presented in the show which such great self confidence about themselves and who they are, really shows that they can write this. Also T&B’s spiritual successor show, Double Decker (who had a lot of the same staff) tackles some LGBT themes pretty well, so they could absolutely do it. But yeah, I don’t think they’ll become “official” unfortunately. But if anything, I anticipate that KxB will most likely be working even closer together in S2, so they’ll be more in tune with one another, and possibly open up even more to each other than they did before. Hopefully they’ll be over the huge feuds and split apart phase, which The Rising focused on (they’ll still bicker all the time, but that’s just how they are), so we can see just how far their relationship has come and changed for the better. Anyway this is probably way too long (sorry), but always interested to hear your thoughts too! :)  

Heya! Before I start I just wanna say thank you so much for taking the time to give me such a thorough reply, it is incredibly well thought out and written! I also want to say I am so freaking sorry you had to type out my monstrosity of a name (seriously didn’t think about that when making the joke lol). Oh, and I’m equally sorry for the formatting of the reply... really had no clue how to go about it, so I just defaulted to going about it the roleplayer way haha. Anyways, for starters, I think I should say that I actually agree with you a lot. You see, logically I think it feels highly unlikely they’d make them “official” in the new season. I’m not sure if I feel like it’s unlikely because I, someone who’s in the LGBTQ community, am a pessimist (aka, I’m negative regardless of proof) who is use to companies not delivering on it/assume companies won’t deliver on it.... or if I’m genuinely, but unconsciously, picking up on Sunrise’s stance of “not gonna happen”. Despite all that I still feel stupidly hopeful about it (y’know, heart louder than the mind and all that jazz)... and I guess for the sake of the discussion I’ll break down why! lol So, I got into the fandom.... around the time of The Rising, I think, so anywhere from 2014 to 2015. I instantly fell in love with it all, but I did end up falling out of the loop for awhile (being a teenager and all that). Recently (recently being that I finished S1 on Friday, watched The Rising on Sunday, and now I’m here lol) I got back into it and.... wow, a lot of it is the same, and.... at the same time it felt like I had so much more to process. It’s still as amazing as ever, if not even more so, and just like with everything else I love with my entire being I started to analyze it and read into it (maybe a little bit too much so lol).  In all honesty, KxB seriously stood out even more so than it did last time for me (I don’t know if it’s because I’m now accepting of my sexuality or what) and while it’s not actually the best part of the series to me (God, Barnaby’s arc means so much to me what with me struggling with cPTSD, but that story is best left on my RP blog) I do have to admit that the pairing is... incredibly meaningful, and beautiful. Moving for me, really.  I guess the following observations, and hopeful thinking that came after it, could be deduced to me just wearing shipper goggles, but considering my habit of over analyzing and breaking things down... I do try to make predictions and opinions logically, and with that in mind it’s why I’m so stuck on the “hopeful thinking”, since a tiny bit of logical thinking is fueling it. Tiger & Bunny is about human relationships, really. For a show focusing on NEXTs... it’s really about humanity, corruption, society, relationships... and KxB all along the first season is written as an undertone, like a slow burn (which is entirely fitting, and seriously makes any relationship better), which fits because the first season is, in actuality, not focused on that (the plot being bigger than we can see and all that). In the end, having rewatched it, I also noticed how, really, the undertone is written in such a way that.... it feels like Barnaby is the one with the “crush” (or is the first one to realize it) which... kinda fits with the old statements from the crew. Kotetsu the forever oblivious one who hasn’t had an epiphany yet (although if I’m being honest, The Rising seems to have this “side-plot” feeling of Kotetsu having the epiphany when he realizes what he’s lost, which is what I meant by the flow of the series somewhat feels like it’s building towards it)...  .... There’s also the whole “leaving it to interpretation thing” they said back then. Which, I have to agree with some other people that it feels like it’s just a way of saying “it’s romantic but we don’t want to take that risk”.... and that was back around 2011. It’ll have been decade since then when S2 is released, and, while a decade is just a decade, a lot has changed on a societal basis since then. Even during this decade long gap Sunrise has become more bold with their representation, whether it be Double Decker! or The Rising.... almost like they’re testing the waters...  and what better way to champion representation than to make two main characters the representation? This franchise is... so human in it’s story, and the meaning doing such a thing would have for so many people... in a way, I think out ways some of the risks. I feel like the build up is there, the want is there (tbh seeing posts on tumblr of people talking about how they hope they’ll get a kiss in S2 or something “official” like that also fueled this)... it just depends on whether they’ll feel afraid or not. Which is, really, why I asked for your opinion. You do such good work at trying to bridge the gap between the Japanese fandom/Sunrise and the English speaking community (which, btw, you are amazing at, I can’t thank you enough for the work you do), and I knew you’d be more informed on Sunrise’s attitude and statements, as well as the general opinions and depositions of the Japanese fans. In the end, I can “read into” things all I want, but it won’t matter if you can’t understand the one who pulls the strings... and because of that I wanted to know your opinion.  I’m so so sorry this got so long!! I’m really horrible at summarizing myself, so this turned into a major ramble.... I’m gonna wrap it up now before this turns into a novel haha. Again, thank you so much for responding to my question and for being open to discussing it, it means so much! I truly respect your opinion, since it helps me clear my own thoughts, as well as gives me a dose of reality so I don’t get my hopes up too much... I guess in the end though, a part of me is going to continue to think that they just might have the heart to do it, irregardless lol. I look forwards to seeing what you have to say about what I’ve written here!

[andersunmenschlich]

Episode 17: The Boneturner’s Tale

Ah, finally. It’s about time I got another episode listened to. Amazing how long that takes; so much to do. And still I have no bookcases. Oh well. This one’s the statement of a Sebastian Adekoya, and apparently it has something to do with books. I am pleased.

...Oh, I am very pleased.

It seems to me that Sebastian Adekoya understands books very well. I’ve said before (and will doubtless say again) that all books are books of magic. Just as this episode’s statement-giver says, opening a book allows you to enter the mind of someone who may well be long dead. In such cases, reading is a form of necromancy.

To read a book is to change your mind: to place thoughts there that are not your own, to see things you’ve never seen, walk through worlds you’ve never been to, that no longer exist or don’t exist yet, or that never will.

To write is to preserve a fraction of your own mind, freezing it in symbols which wait to be decoded by the incautious.

You don’t know what thoughts you’re inviting to live inside your mind when you settle down to decipher a lexical set. You can’t know what they’ll do to you, nor you to them (nor what they, changed, may do to you again). The promises in the titles, in the genres and the labels, can only tell you so much. What does this set of words contain? Have you even understood what is meant by the description—are you sure you know what it means when an old story is called a “romance,” or when a newer one is labeled “wuxia”?

Some thoughts won’t be able to live in your mind. Some you’ll never be able to get rid of. Personalities and people, scenes and scenarios, images and ideas... foreign things birthed in the minds of others; decode the twisting lines on the page before you, and they’ll spring to life in your mind as powerful as the day they were written.

Words can be wonderful—and dangerous.

Books are beautiful—and bewitching.

You should never read unwarily, because when you read you’re bringing alien thoughts to life in your mind, and you may not want them to make a home there....

Sebastian Adekoya says he used to work at Chiswick Library. As he describes it, it’s a local library very like the one I grew up with: cheaply furnished, full of battered paperbacks, open-feeling, and frequented by friendly, quietly chatting patrons. Probably the occasional Children’s Corner with a librarian who reads aloud well and a much-loved copy of, say, Matilda or Owl at Home, depending on the audience.

Our statement-giver says it was 1996 when the thing happened.

He’d been working for the library about a year at that point, and knew that the library bought its books new, when it bought them (though he didn’t know where they bought them from).

A patron returned five books at the front desk. One of them, he’d never seen before. It was not, however, new. “The barcode and ISBN,” Sebastian says, “both registered as being that of Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh, but the book itself was an almost featureless black paperback, with a title on the front in faded white serif font: The Bone Turner’s Tale.”

Confused, he calls the librarian (Ruth Weaver) over to look at it.

She also didn’t remember ever seeing it before, but it had the appropriate markings for a book from Chiswick Library, and the stamps on the lending label indicated it’d been in their collection for several years.

Weaver shrugs and says not to worry about it: they’ll get it put on the system properly. Sebastian, however, is bothered. So he does a bit of quick research.

The man who brought the book in, one Michael Crew, apparently only checked out four books, not five. Our statement-giver thinks maybe he’s a self-published author trying to get his book into the local library, and suggests this possibility to the librarian, who laughs and says that’s probably it—though why anyone would bother trying to get a book onto the shelves of this particular local library was beyond her.

Sebastian Adekoya notes that the book looked worn, “like it had seen decades of being read, with a line creased down the spine and one half of the cover faded from the sun. Nor, from what I could see, did it list any author at all.”

At this point, our fascinating book story is interrupted by the arrival of another character.

According to our statement-giver, this Jared Hopworth is, “not to put too fine a point on it, thick as mud.” He was also Sebastian’s best friend when the two of them were kids: inseparable. Hm. I must admit, I never had (nor wanted) anyone like that in my life. I suppose there was that other preacher’s oldest kid, from the church in the next church region over (it’s not called a diocese when you’re Protestant, but the effect’s much the same...). We were mostly friends in name, though, and never spent much time together.

In any case, Sebastian went to college and Jared hit the back alleys. For some reason, it seems, Jared Hopworth saw this as Sebastian Adekoya betraying him by being too smart, not him betraying Sebastian via being an idiot too stupid for college.

I do have to wonder how intelligent our statement-giver actually is, however, given that he apparently decided to just put up with what he describes as “a campaign of petty terror” for the sake of a memory of childhood friendship. Oh, sure, “he was always very careful to stop before he did anything that might get the police involved—but let’s be honest with ourselves, shall we?

You should only brush off malicious behavior from others if you’re enjoying it, and want to encourage them to do more.

...And now we get an even larger interruption. Excellent.

I do believe this is the very first time another character has actually broken into the middle of a recording. I don’t like it. Who is this Miss Herne, and why is her complaint so important that my story has to be disrupted?

I don’t even remember ever hearing her name before. I don’t know her, I don’t care about her—weren’t we in the middle of something?

...Oh, no, wait... I do remember her.

Naomi Herne, the annoying woman who doesn’t know how to appreciate a misty moonlit graveyard meadow. The one with the unusual attachment to that large piece of headstone. What’s she complaining about? I don’t remember that she had anything to complain about besides her own unfortunate lack of, as the children say, “chill.”

Well, whatever the case, it seems Jonathan Sims considers Naomi Herne’s statement a waste of time. It wasn’t, it was beautiful—but never mind. The interrupting messenger, someone named Elias (which rings a faint bell), tells the head archivist that the Lucas family gives the Magnus Institute financial support, so he shouldn’t annoy anyone connected with them if he can help it. Does Naomi Herne count as “connected to the Lucas family”? Her Lucas husband’s dead. She doesn’t even have the name. No children that I’ve heard of. No reason she should be connected that I can see. And they didn’t seem terribly interested in a connection at the funeral, did they? I think Mr. Sims can antagonize her all he wants without damaging future Lucas donations, frankly.

Our interrupter is also looking for Martin (the supposedly-but-not-apparently incompetent archival assistant). Mr. Sims says Martin is off sick with stomach problems this week, and Elias leaves.

...Wait.

Elias Bouchard? Jonathan Sims’ boss? Why is he running messages down to the archives? This makes even less sense than Rosie the receptionist being in charge of upkeep on recording equipment. Just how much disbelief is supposed to be suspended here? I’m asking seriously, because the Magnus Institute seems like a very badly put together organization if you think about it too much. Or at all.

Well. Elias Bouchard leaves, Mr. Sims expresses “blessed relief” at the fact of Martin’s being sick and thus not at work, and we return to the statement.

...Our main character really dislikes this particular assistant, and for (it would seem) no good reason. Is there history there? Did Martin do something especially bad to Mr. Sims at some point in the past?

Or is it just some kind of negative bias, like thinking a man will be no good with children because he’s a man, or that a woman will suck at math, or that a Hispanic cleaner will steal your jewelry because they’re Hispanic (you dropped your necklace down the back of the dresser, Grandma—I am never going to forget that unjust accusation, nor how plain you made it that your suspicion was based entirely on race).

In any case: back to the library.

Sebastian Adekoya notes that it’s typically a bad thing when Jared Hopworth turns up at the library, because it means Jared’s “bored enough to seek me out for harassment.”

This is apparently exactly what Mr. Hopworth has in mind, because he waits for Weaver to go back to her office and close the door, then knocks the returns cart over, spilling books everywhere. Which is a horrible thing to do. I can’t stand seeing books mistreated this way, I’d rather watch someone bash innocent children around (which, I realize, isn’t saying much given I’m the one talking—but still).

Despite obviously having done it on purpose, he smiles and apologizes.

I’m familiar with this particular method of annoying people. Deliberately doing something terrible, then acting as though it was accidental? Yes, indeed.

People have trouble dealing with this. You did a bad thing. You clearly meant to do the bad thing. This should give them the right to demand retribution. But then, instead of continuing in the “person who does bad things deliberately” role, you switch to “friendly mistake-maker,” and it throws them.

Really they shouldn’t give you the benefit of the doubt.

There’s no doubt!

Sebastian Adekoya bends down to pick the books up, and as anyone with a capacity for noticing patterns of behavior could have predicted, Jared Hopworth hits him in the back of the head with a book.

Which is, again, a terrible thing to do to a book. Human skulls are, on average, much sturdier than the covers of books.

This book, however, may be capable of taking care of itself.

“Behind me, Jared stood holding the book I had put aside—The Bone Turner’s Tale—and had apparently picked it up to hit me with. But rather than offering me a fake apology, or further violence, instead his eyes were locked on the book. We stood there in silence for a few seconds, until he said something about needing something new to read, turned around, and walked off.”

According to our statement-giver, Jared Hopworth isn’t much of a reader, “and the look in his eyes when he left had something in it not entirely unlike fear.”

Yes, I think this work might be able to handle that book-abusing felon just fine.

On his way home after leaving the library that night, Mr. Adekoya passes Mr. Hopworth’s house. Apparently they’re both living in the same houses they occupied as children, which is rather unfortunate for Sebastian, don’t you think? It’s late September, which is a nicely spooky time of year, and something’s moving in the pool of orange light under a streetlamp.

It’s a rat. A large white rat that looks as though it was once a pet. Something’s wrong with the back half of it, and its head seems to be turned around farther than it should be as it drags itself along by its front paws.

Which is also deliciously spooky.

Sebastian Adekoya stares at it until it drags itself off into the darkness and disappears from sight.

He notes that the lights were off in Jared Hopworth’s house. As someone who sleeps days, works nights, and routinely doesn’t turn the lights on as I go about my nightly affairs, I don’t find this particularly indicative of a lack of activity—but that’s me. I suppose most people, when their lights are shut off, don’t make and eat food, read books, do jigsaw puzzles, etc. Ah, how limiting it must be to have such weak senses.

Jared Hopworth more or less vanishes from the scene for a while. Weeks go by without him turning up to torment Sebastian Adekoya, who begins to feel worried. Almost a month with no torment? Surely something must be wrong!

...Hmm. Do you suppose our statement-giver might be just mildly masochistic?

Whatever the case, he’s not eager enough for unpleasantness to actually go to Mr. Hopworth’s house and check on him, so the Jaredless time rolls by until late October, when Jared’s mother turns up at the library with her arm in a sling, wearing an unnecessarily bulky coat and a hateful expression, carrying a familiar black-bound paperback book, which she flings onto the floor at our statement-giver’s feet before turning to leave.

Sebastian Adekoya asks after the health of her son, which arrests her departure and provokes a bit of an outburst: “She spun back and started to swear violently at me, told me I had no business with her son and that I—and my books—were to stay away from him.” This outburst also gives Sebastian a bit more time to inspect the arm... which reminds me markedly of the rat.

“As she spoke, I couldn’t look away from her arm and the odd ways it twisted as she gestured. How her fingers seemed to bend the wrong way.”

Well, well, well.

Before leaving, Mrs. Hopworth spits at Mr. Adekoya—and I find it interesting that, while she clearly has no problem throwing the book onto the floor like it’s a live animal and she wants to smash its skull, she avoids spitting on it.

Despite the absence of spittle, our statement-giver decides to employ paper handkerchieves in picking the book up, rather than touch it with his bare hands.

He sticks it in the book returns cart, locks up the library, and goes home.

It rains heavily that night and Sebastian Adekoya, in his converted attic bedroom, can’t sleep. He’s worrying about the book. He’s worrying that perhaps he shouldn’t have just left it there, unsupervised, as it were. “What if Ruth came in earlier than I did tomorrow and took it? What would happen to her?”

Frankly, that strikes me as an interesting experiment. What would happen to Weaver? Come to that, what happened to Hopworth? Was the idiot eaten by the bone book? Twisted beyond telling? Possessed, perhaps?

I’d quite like to know.

“Should I have destroyed it?” Sebastian Adekoya asks himself.

I’m not sure this question would even occur to me. “Should,” after all, presupposes some kind of ideal state for things to be in.

Should you do thus-and-such a thing? It’s an incomplete sentence. You’ve left off your goal. “In order to [X], should I [Y]?” That is a complete sentence. So—should Sebastian Adekoya destroy The Bone Turner’s Tale? It depends on what his goal is. If he wants to study it, then no: he definitely shouldn’t. If he wants to stop it from doing what it seems to be doing, then yes: he probably should.

Completely failing to define his goal for an ideal state of things RE: The Bone Turner’s Tale, Sebastian discards the idea of destruction on the grounds that he wasn’t sure he had it in him to destroy a book—”even one with such a strangeness to it.”

Well now. Thank you, Mr. Adekoya, for letting us know that you consider strangeness a helpful push towards destruction.

...Oh, I’m not really surprised. I do have a passing acquaintance with humanity, after all.

Sebastian Adekoya lies awake in bed until sometime around two in the morning, when he finally gives up and goes to get the book. He gets out of bed, dresses, grabs his gloves and a jacket, and walks twenty minutes to the library in the rain, where he unlocks the door, goes in, deactivates the alarm, and begins turning on as many lights as possible without making it too obvious that there’s someone in the building.

He tells us that part of him wanted to keep the library in its nearly pitch-black state, but he turned on lights anyway. I’m guessing this is due to his weak eyes, since he says “I had to half-feel my way through the foyer and into the library proper.” [with a complete lack of sympathy] Must be rough.

He also uses a flashlight—but not before he puts his bare hand on the book returns cart, catching his balance, and his fingers come away wet.

The books, it would seem, are all bleeding.

...That is very annoying. I think I would be very nearly angry. Blood-soaked books!? Have you any idea how difficult that is to clean? Frankly, it’s impossible! This had better be the type of supernatural blood that vanishes without a trace.

The Bone Turner’s Tale, meanwhile, is as dry as... well... a bone.

Sebastian Adekoya puts his gloves back on (which means, unless he washed his hands without telling us or this is the type of supernatural blood that vanishes without a trace, that the inside of at least one of those thick gloves is going to need some rather tricky cleaning done), and picks up The Bone Turner’s Tale. He puts it on the desk and—clumsily, because of the thick gloves—begins reading.

He doesn’t begin at the beginning, just opens it randomly, which I suppose is understandable given the current unwieldiness of his fingers, but still. I can’t really approve.

“It was written in prose, and certainly seemed to be a story of some kind. The part I read dealt with an unnamed man, at various points referred to as the Boneturner, the Bonesmith or just the Turner, watching an assembled group of people as they made their way into a small village.

“It’s unclear from what I read whether he is traveling with them, or simply following them, but I remember being unsettled by the details he observed in them: the way the parson would move his hand over his mouth whenever he stared too long at the nuns or how the cook looked at the meat he prepared with the same eyes that looked at the pardoner. It was only at that point that I realized the book was describing the pilgrims from The Canterbury Tales.”

You know, I’ve never read The Canterbury Tales.

“Now, this certainly wasn’t some lost section of a Chaucer classic,” our statement-giver tells us. “It was written in modern English, with none of the archaic spelling or pronunciation of the original, and besides that the writing itself was of questionable quality. There was something compelling about it, though.”

“I flicked ahead a few pages, and found the Bonesmith had apparently crept up to the miller while he slept. It described him silently reaching inside him, and… it’s a bit hazy. All I remember clearly is the line ‘and from his rib a flute to play that merry tune of marrow took’. And as for the rest, I don’t recall in detail, but I know that I almost threw up, and that the miller did not survive. This was on page sixteen, and it was a thick book.”

Funny, since he described it as a small paperback earlier. Hmm. Something like my paperback copy of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, maybe? 6.75″ x 4.25″, over 1000 pages long—a veritable brick of a book. Hmm. Could be.

It also gives a bit of a hint as to what might have happened to the rat (and the mother... and possibly the son).

I like it.

Our statement-giver is notably less pleased, and turns to the frontispiece to see if he can figure out where this book came from. Apparently he’s given up on the idea that Michael Crew wrote and self-published it? I don’t see that that’s entirely out of the question at this point. I mean—what, after all, do we really know about Michael Crew?

Peeling off the Chiswick Library label, Sebastian Adekoya discovers another library label beneath.

This label is not in excellent shape. According to our statement-giver, it says something like “Library of Gergensburg” (or “Jürgenleit,” or “Jurgenlicht”), which suggests that the last library wasn’t in Britain.

I wonder whether it was still written in English there?

Giving credence to my tentative hypothesis regarding masochism, Sebastian Adekoya prepares to return to reading the book that nearly made him throw up.

At this point, however, Jared Hopworth breaks in. Literally. Through a window. Sebastian Adekoya recognizes Jared via voice, which is one of the only ways I ever manage to recognize anyone. (Why, yes: I am indeed borderline prosopagnosic. I blame humanity’s insistence on all looking basically identical. Two eyes, two ears, one nose, one mouth—and all in the same arrangement, at that. How, I ask you, is anyone supposed to tell any of you apart?)

As far as visuals go: Jared has apparently decided to dress himself in baggy pants and a thick coat with a face-concealing hood. This strikes me as a very reasonable way to dress, particularly if both coat and pants come well-supplied with those deep and useful pockets I take so much for granted in my clothing.

Sebastian says that Jared is now “longer” than he used to be, whatever that means.

If he meant “taller,” I’d expect him to say “taller.” But “longer”? I’m not entirely certain.... Does he mean to say that Jared has, perhaps, been a bit stretched? That would seem to fit with the pointyness of his fingers.

His bones, I’d say, are longer than they once were.

Jared Hopworth is also “standing at a strange angle, as though his legs were too stiff to use.” That’s interesting.

If I were to guess (which I’m about to), I’d say that reading this book gives people the ability to manipulate bone inside living bodies. Now, I might hypothesize that the book simply warps things all on its own... but that rat really did look like an experiment, and Jared coming for the book strikes me as an “I haven’t mastered this skill yet, I need more practice, give me the manual” type of thing.

Sebastian Adekoya, declining to give Jared Hopworth the book despite the obvious tidiness of giving a strange thing to a strange thing, decides to punch Jared Hopworth right in the solar plexus.

Whereupon Jared bites Sebastian with, not his teeth, but his ribcage.

“...I felt his flesh give way and almost retract, drawing me in close. And then I felt his ribs shift, shut tight around my hand, as though his ribcage were trying to bite me. They were sharper than I would have thought possible, and at last, this was what actually started me screaming.”

Now, if that isn’t just perfect for late October, I don’t know what is.

Sebastian drops The Bone Turner’s Tale. Jared grabs it and runs off. Sebastian starts chasing him, but....

“I started to chase after him, until I saw how he was moving. How many limbs he had. He had… added some extras. That was the moment it finally all got too much for me; I stopped running. It wasn’t my book, it wasn’t my responsibility and I had no idea what I was dealing with, so I didn’t. I just stood there in a daze and watched the thing that was once Jared disappear out into the rain. I never saw him again.”

Uh.

Well, that’s probably all for the best so far as Sebastian Adekoya’s concerned, but does he really think things are going to stay that way? Jared Hopworth likes bullying him; I somehow doubt that gaining new powers will have changed that.

Our statement-giver, I think, is just as doomed as... huh. As pretty much all of the others seem to have been, come to think of it.

Somebody heard Mr. Adekoya screaming, it seems, and called the police. They turn up to receive the best lie Sebastian Adekoya can come up with on the spur of the moment, which involves falling asleep at his desk and being awoken by an attempted robbery. He can’t remember how he explained the bloody books, which seems to me like a thing that would take some explaining.

Hmm. I wonder how many strange things the police see in the Magnus Archives universe. Maybe Sebastian didn’t explain the books at all—perhaps there are some things the police in this universe just... leave alone.

The blood, apparently, was not the disappearing type. Mr. Adekoya says “it took weeks to get out,” and I assume he means to imply “out of the carpet,” because let’s face it: blood-soaked books don’t clean. Those books had to be thrown away and we all know it.

...I wonder what the blood type was.

Jonathan Sims describes himself as “deeply unhappy” about this statement.

“I’ve barely scratched the surface of the archives, and have already uncovered evidence of two separate surviving books from Jürgen Leitner’s library. Until he mentioned that, I was tempted to dismiss much of it out of hand, but as it stands now I believe every word.”

So interesting, the things he believes and doesn’t believe. I’m becoming more and more convinced that he stubbornly denies things until evidence actually forces him to believe—which might seem like a good way to remain sane in a universe like this one, but consider: is the denial of reality sanity? I don’t see that it’s even safety, since not knowing about a thing (germs, say) has never prevented the thing from killing you.

An interesting side note: Mr. Sims’ boss, Elias Bouchard, apparently has a very hands-off attitude when it comes to the supernatural.

“Record and study, not interfere or contain.”

Personally, I think that study and interference aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive... but that’s me. In any case, I do think Sebastian Adekoya’s either very dense, or that library label was very oddly written. Two separate words with two separate capitals (Jürgen Leitner) seem difficult to confuse for a single word! “Jürgenleit”? Really? Come, now.

Tim and Sasha, two of the three amazingly competent archival assistants, have done research which proves that yes, Jared Hopworth had a warrant out for breaking and entering and assault, but no, nobody found him and the case was dropped.

And aha!

About seven years after giving this statement, Sebastian Adekoya was found dead in the middle of the road, body so messed up they figured it had to be a hit-and-run.

Even though there were no signs of crushing or trauma marks.

That’s lovely.

I’d like a Leitner.

[mysteriousdbzgt]

Uhh, hi! I felt like this would be a better place to ask this since it feels more like a personal/opinion question.... But do you think/predict that Kotetsu x Barnaby might become official in the new season? It's undeniable how the creators feel about their relationship... and how seemingly majority of the fanbase feels. Plus it feels like The Rising/end of the anime has been building towards it in a way. And with their already amazing work with FE. Just curious what someone so dedicated thinks!

Hi oh-lali-lali-lali-lalipop! Thank you for your ask. First of all, thanks for asking this question here on my personal (and also for the follow over on t&bftw, welcome aboard! :D) I think you can probably tell from here, that I’m a huge supporter of them becoming romantically involved lol I don’t shy about that here, but I like to present a more neutral stance over on my news dedicated blog, to not influence others of my personal opinions.

With regards to the new season, as much as I would be supportive of it, I unfortunately highly doubt that they would become “official” in S2 or anything in the future, but will remain extremely dedicated and attentive to one another, regardless of their constant bickering. The creators of the show are more than aware of the popularity of the “couple”, being constantly popular at doujinshi events and the continuous amounts of merchandise that they bring out, which regularly focuses on the main duo rather than all of the Heroes all the time. The fandom is primarily dominated by women, when originally the show was supposed to target men and “salarymen”, but attracted a completely different demographic that they hadn’t anticipated. I can only think that’s mainly because of the appeal of K&B. Also not helped by some of the staff’s, let’s just say, “unfiltered” thoughts when they discuss about K & B in older interviews, centering around “love” and other similar notions.

I think they still want to keep this series aimed towards a male demographic, even if the results don’t line up as they expect. But highly ironically, it’s what makes the show successful, so I doubt they would want to change how they portray Kotetsu and Barnaby’s relationship.

Personally I would be absolutely over the moon if they did become “official”, because they’re just perfect for one another (hehe) and it could just break so many standard conventions/boundaries on how media portrays same-sex relationships, if done appropriately, and not be labelled with any genre tags like “BL”, “yaoi” or anything similar, and still simply just be a “drama”, “superhero” tale, with the two main males eventually getting together but not make a big song and dance about it. If we want to normalise LGBT relationships within our media and what we consume, then we need to drop these tags and portray them in a healthy manner, which I think the show does well between them both. I believe that the staff have the talent to pull it off, they just need to be cautious on how they do it. Like you said, how FE is presented in the show which such great self confidence about themselves and who they are, really shows that they can write this. Also T&B’s spiritual successor show, Double Decker (who had a lot of the same staff) tackles some LGBT themes pretty well, so they could absolutely do it.

But yeah, I don’t think they’ll become “official” unfortunately. But if anything, I anticipate that KxB will most likely be working even closer together in S2, so they’ll be more in tune with one another, and possibly open up even more to each other than they did before. Hopefully they’ll be over the huge feuds and split apart phase, which The Rising focused on (they’ll still bicker all the time, but that’s just how they are), so we can see just how far their relationship has come and changed for the better.

Anyway this is probably way too long (sorry), but always interested to hear your thoughts too! :)

[cupofteaguk]

all too well | 01 (m)

summary: you and Yoongi shared a loving relationship with one another until you both agreed to end things and pursue your separate careers. but two years later, Yoongi is a member of the ever growing Bangtan Boys, and you are a new makeup artist for their upcoming tour. 

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader 

genre: idol au, makeup artist au, exes au | angst/smut

warnings: rough & unprotected sex, vague descriptions of the kpop industry that may not be accurate! 

word count: 6k

.

You suppose that it all starts and ends with a letter.

“Dear Mr. Min Yoongi,” Your boyfriend reads across the kitchen counter, fingers curling tightly around the paper in his hands, eyes blown wide with a gaze depicting such rare intensity that you’ve actually stopped fixing your morning coffee just to catch a sight of his expression. You can’t entirely place the feeling weighing itself into your stomach, so you settle with staring at him and trying to keep your own facial features as neutral as possible. “We are pleased to inform you that you have passed the final audition at our label and therefore are officially recruited into our newest group Bangtan Boys. You are going to be one of seven other boys joining our label as trainees and we are excited to finally bring everyone together to prepare for debut. Although training won’t officially start until next week, we ask that you come to the studio tomorrow morning to meet the other members as well as be prepped on our expectations and scheduling. We wish to congratulate you on your hard work and look forward to getting to know you more in the coming years. Sincerely, Big Hit Studios.”

When Yoongi doesn’t react immediately to the positive news, you flicker your gaze up to study him. His eyes, once again, are scanning the paper, quicker and quicker with each line as if he didn’t read it or hear it correctly the first time around. His eyes have grown to the size of saucers at this point, and you would have thought him to be a statue had it not been for the rather loud inhales and exhales coming from the boy. The sight itself would have been rather comical had it not been for the context behind the stare.

So you try for a gentle smile, leaning a little on the counter to try and further gauge his expression. “Yoongi?” You inquire softly, reaching a hand across the space to run your hand along his shoulder blade. “Baby, are you alright?”

Yoongi blinks, snapping himself out of his trance as he shifts his gaze from the letter to you, back to the letter, and back to you. “I did it?” He whispers, the statement sounding more like a question above anything else and you find your lips curling up into a fond smile in light of Yoongi’s confusion—even though he was the one to read the letter multiple times, running over the words in his own mind repeatedly.

You bite your lips and nod your head. “Yes, you did it.” Even though there is a sensation of… something lingering in the pit of your stomach, the pride in your voice and in your heart is practically unmatched now. Because at once, the memories of the past few months come flooding back to you in the moments leading up to this very second, of Yoongi standing before you, letter in hand, basically telling him that all those past months of sacrifice and worry have paid off and he would finally have the opportunity to make something of himself. And who wouldn’t be proud of that?

Min Yoongi has always worked incredibly hard for everything in his life. In all your 19 years of living upon this planet, never once have you stumbled across someone else who shared the same dedication for passion and ambition as Yoongi has. It’s probably his deep craving for music that first drew you to him, his affection and his dreams keeping you close even after nearly two and a half years of maintaining a relationship.

You’ve always found his perseverance admirable, even when he was just coined as the underground rapper, the boy who performed demos of his personal music on the street. In the very beginning, you use to pass him every evening on your way home from work until one of his lyrics struck a chord inside of you and you found yourself growing more and more curious about him with every passing day. In the end, much to your surprise, it was him who approached you first, stating with a smile that he had been seeing you around a lot and if you would be interested in getting some coffee with him. It would be the first of many sessions in which you came to learn about the genius that was Min Yoongi, how each hardship he had to endure only adding to his determination to prove everyone wrong.

You feel like no matter how long you’ve been with Yoongi, and no matter how many secrets he dares himself to share with you (and vice versa), he always says something, does something, or desires something to make your heart spin with surprise.

Learning about his dream to become a Kpop star has definitely been one of your biggest surprises through the duration of putting the puzzle together that was Min Yoongi—although now that you think about it, it’s not something that you should really have been surprised about. Not really. After all, the boy’s lifeblood is music—he lives and breathes it, and he’s good too. The way he strings lyrics together has such a magical quality to it that more often than not you would find yourself looking at the boy and wondering just how on earth someone like him could possibly exist in a world of evil intentions. The passion he has for what he does is virtually unparalleled. It’s one of the many things you love about Yoongi, and you would never ask to trade that away for anything.

But again, it’s not like the Kpop industry is always the best place to let a free angel spread its wings and fly. You’re not an idiot, you’re constantly surrounded by the talk of small people with big dreams to participate in the industry—how it chews people up and spits them out dead or alive, how it could take and take and take and not necessarily give anything back in return. You’ve acknowledged how thick-skinned a person would have to be to take on the industry, and came to the realization a very long time ago that it could never be the place for you. It always fascinated you to an extent and how you know that perhaps you’ll never truly experience hard work unless you were apart of the culture; yet firmly believed in your heart to swear away ever considering the possibility of trying out.

Yoongi has always been a different story entirely, yet you still worry for him. If the auditions to even get a consideration to a label is anything to go by, you can only guess about what the training life will have in store for your boyfriend.

“I did it!” Yoongi repeats, a little louder this time, shaking the letter back and forth as his face breaks out into a beyond breathtaking grin. Something about it is so genuine that you momentarily forget your own troubling thoughts before shooting him a smile of your own. “I really really did it!”

“See, Yoongi, I told you that you would be able to accomplish anything you set your mind too,” You say to him, taking the letter as he offers it out for you to see and read for yourself. Your eyes skim over the words yourself, although you’ve already heard them once. But this time, you really let yourself soak in every word that runs across the paper, the realization dawning in your mind and in your heart what Yoongi was really just about to get himself into. What if they hurt him emotionally? What if they said something he couldn’t take? What if they told him his best was no longer good enough? What if they overworked him? What if—?

A gentle finger running down the newly formed crease in between your eyebrows, pulling you from your thoughts as you look up to see that Yoongi has rounded the counter to face you completely. His grin of excitement has diffused entirely from his expression, and you momentarily hate yourself for being the reason behind his frown. “What is it?” He inquires suddenly, craning his neck slightly to level his gaze with yours. “You’ve got that look on your face. You’re thinking about something.”

You shake your head immediately, averting your gaze to focus your attention on setting the letter down on the counter. “No, it’s nothing—I promise.”

He flickers his gaze over to the letter on the table. “Is this about the recruitment thing?”

“No,” You protect immediately, retracting a little when Yoongi raises an eyebrow questioningly at you. “Okay… maybe, yes.”

“Was I supposed to understand that?”

You bite your lip, internally debating whether or not it would be appropriate to share these thoughts with your boyfriend, given they did have a poisonous sort of background in regards to your own personal beliefs. You would never ask Yoongi to give up his dream for you.

Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to at least share these thoughts, knowing that Yoongi would never let you hear the end of it otherwise, you take in a breath and look back over at him. “I just… I’ve heard about what this industry does to people—people like you with big dreams and passions. It chews you up and spits you out, especially if you’re not strong enough to handle all the pressure.”

Yoongi snorts a little. “Are you saying that you don’t think I’m strong enough for that?”

“You know what I mean,” You cut back in. “All I’m saying is that it’s a tough industry. You’re absolutely brilliant at what you do, Yoongi, but what if it’s not good enough for those people who think they’ll know what’s best for you? What if they tell you to do something you don’t want to do?”

“Those things will only really mean something if the group can actually survive past debut,” Yoongi drops, the light-heartedness in his tone clearly trying to keep the conversation casual.

The thought of Yoongi’s group not thriving past debut, in spite of your worries, is enough to get you to shake your head furiously at that. “Don’t say things like that,” You interject. “It’s not an if situation. It’s a when. When your group makes it past debut.” You sigh. “I don’t want you to lose sight of who you are, or lose the passion that makes you so lovable. I just, I don’t want you to lose your way.”

“Hey…” Yoongi says calmly, resting his hands on your shoulders, continuing to maintain that eye-to-eye contact before his lips quirk up into the smallest of smiles when you turn to look at him. “I won’t lose my way, okay? In a year, I’ll be the exact same person I am right now. I’m always going to love music and I won’t forget that. You’ll still be my number one priority—don’t forget that.”

As soon as he reaches out to press one hand against your cheek, you close your eyes to lose yourself in the gravity of his touch. Just like when you accepted his first offer for coffee, you dare yourself to believe in the hopefulness and the promise of another person. “I won’t.”

.

When Yoongi unlocks the door to your apartment the following day, you’re in the middle of cooking dinner—his favorite, to continue the celebration of his recruitment acceptance to try and keep the atmosphere light—and he looks positively ecstatic. “Baby!” He greets cheerfully, kicking the door shut and immediately making his way towards the kitchen. “Babe!”

Before you could call back to him over your shoulder, you find yourself being whirled around. Wooden spoon still in hand, apron tied across your waist, you barely catch sight of Yoongi’s eyes glinting with excitement before he leans in to plant a firm kiss against your mouth. Much like most kisses you share with Yoongi, it makes your head spin and you can’t suppress the hum of surprise.

He pulls back way too soon, but he looks like such an uncontained puppy that you have to laugh. “What’s going on with you?”

“Oh Y/N, it’s great!” He breathes out. “The label is great, the guys are great, everything is just… it’s so great. Everyone is super nice and friendly and funny—I think we’re all going to get along fine.”

“Well, that’s really awesome to hear,” You return, turning around to flip off the shove. “I want to hear all about it.”

So Yoongi talks, talks much more and strings together way more words than you’re ever use to hearing from him. He tells you about Big Hit studios and the manager and the friendly and positive energy everyone seemed to give off.

He tells you about the boys as well as all their backgrounds—one a student at University to study acting, another with the same background of underground rap but with a few tracks to add to his name. There’s a boy with a heavy influence of street dancing, another in school with a top mark in modern dance. One boy auditioned in the same city as Yoongi—the stage name takes on a singular letter of the alphabet you cannot remember—while the youngest member was casted by multiple agencies before finally settling on Big Hit. It’s an impressive track list, you won’t lie, but it’s his smile and the enthusiastic pitch in every drop of word coming out of his mouth that washes away a good portion of your original worries and doubts.

And besides, you trust Yoongi a lot more than you would ever even begin to trust yourself, and you believe that if things would go bad with his career, he would definitely find a way around that situation in whatever form that could take.

“It sounds like the group definitely has the potential to do some amazing things,” You say, stirring the stew in your bowl before taking another spoonful.

“Mm, I really hope so,” Yoongi exclaims, finishing up the rest in his own bowl. “Everyone is super talented. I can’t wait to get started.”

You stare openly at him across the table, subjecting yourself to a brief flashback of the auditions just weeks before. Yoongi had sacrificed a lot of sleep, a lot of missed meals, a lot of time away from you to make sure everything he did and everything he could possibly show to the label would be enough. You don’t even want to begin about what the next few months could possibly have in store for your boyfriend.

.

Training for debut starts the following week, and it’s like all those auditions are virtually nothing compared to the life a trainee goes through—everything seems to be increased tenfold and you think a large part of that has to do with the contract Yoongi signs at the beginning. Instead of seeing him five days a week, you only see him two times—on the weekends. And even those times are set aside for Yoongi to sleep or eat something of substance. He refuses to tell you his diet throughout the week, although you can only assume it cannot be good.

For first two weeks go by without too much trouble. Yoongi tries his best to text you throughout the day to update you on every little thing and activity he’s subjected to, whether it be hours of vocal training or dance practices—the latter of which he insists repeatedly are the hardest, although a few of the boys pick up choreography a lot quicker and are very open to the request of teaching him.

His once positive attitude diffuses into something you’re not entirely sure how to categorize yet. It feels a bit like normalcy with a mixture of exhaustion and acceptance that this has now become Yoongi’s life. He’s never been too vocal about his thoughts, only when he’s too angry, too happy, or too depressed about something—only this time it leaves you with a much more worried combination brewing in the pit your stomach. You long to say something to him, even though it’s only been a few weeks and you know Yoongi would simply brush you off with the assurance that he was doing fine, and all of the things his label was putting him up with was nothing he couldn’t shoulder on his own.

So you let it go, pretending it doesn’t hurt you when you cook Yoongi’s favorite meal, only to be told that it was something he couldn’t consume anymore, or when you would stay up late to hear about his day only to get a text that he had to stay late for additional dance training the label insisted he needed. You use to think that there was no possible way dance and vocal training could be enough weight to fill the gap of a 24 hour day and yet here you were, living through it every time he dropped by late or just didn’t even bother showing up.

But it’s not until he goes through a full week of not texting you that you start to latch onto the fact that there might really be a problem going on with your boyfriend. You’ve counted out the two months since training started, refusing to hide behind the mental excuse that Yoongi was ‘just busy’ all the time—too busy to eat or sleep or text you back or return any of your calls—no one could be too busy for a priority. And even though you don’t want to be the type of girlfriend who went mad or over thought everything from a simple text message (or lack thereof), you needed to hear something from him. Anything. Just a hi i’m doing ok would be more than anything to reassure your anxiety and worry.

So when Yoongi goes to your apartment (or, more like stumbles through) at 6:00 on a Saturday morning, you bolt up from the couch so quickly that Yoongi actually jumps up in surprise. “Y/N, hi,” He greets, and you frown at how dry his voice sounds.

Without a word, you go into the kitchen to grab a fill of mug. You return back to hand it to him. “You look like you didn’t sleep last night,” You say, trying to keep your tone light-hearted although you realize for the first time that it hurts to have to report these things so casually when all you really want to do is just tell Yoongi to take care of himself. You’ve trained yourself through the years to keep your mouth shut in fear of saying something that wouldn’t report back well, but you’re not sure how much more of this you can take.

“I didn’t,” He answers back, taking a drink of the water before letting out a relieved ah! He puts the mug down on the table. “What are you doing up so early anyways?”

“I was waiting for you,” You reply softly. “I needed to make sure you were doing okay.”

In spite of the exhaustion so clearly eating away at his features, he takes in a breath and it’s enough for him to muster the smallest of smiles. “Thanks,” He grumbles, curling an arm around your waist to pull you in, hug you tightly at you relish at this. It’s been weeks since he’s let down his walls around you, remained awake long enough to hold you so softly and you return it with as much force as you could possibly give back. “It’s just tiring—but I can handle it.”

“You know that if something goes wrong, you can always talk to me about them,” You whisper, craning your neck up to look at him. “I really don’t mind. I want you to talk to me about this kind of stuff.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” He says, leaning in to kiss you on the forehead before pulling back and staggering his way to your room. You watch him so, agreeing to keep your mouth shut as you return back to the kitchen and you wonder how long it’ll take before you finally snap.

.

Frustrated and angry Yoongi is definitely a force to reckon with. You like to think you’ve known the boy long enough to understand the degree of which certain episodes could drive him to a state of complete and utter madness. Sometimes, it’s always frightening and so uncharacteristic where his irritation could take him—his mind could take him to a variety of different shades of unfamiliarity that you’ve learned to either stay away from or just take whatever he’s throwing at you. Figuratively, of course, you know Yoongi would never start throwing physical objects out of anger.

When Yoongi is suffering from his sessions of impatience and annoyance he can either get really quiet or really assertive—the latter of which could take on a variety of different forms, whether it be during arguments or work outs or other means of blowing off steam. Much like today.

“Y-Yoongi!” You cry out, gripping the blankets underneath you with one hand as Yoongi drills into you from behind, both of you laying on your side as he takes your leg with one hand and lifts it higher into the air to reach deeper into you. The sensation has you rolling your eyes in ecstasy as he hits the part inside of you that he knows will get you to whine and buck your hips—which you do. “Oh god, Yoongi, that feels so good.”

The boy behind you doesn’t say anything, he merely grits his teeth and focuses on pounding you, the sound of skin on skin making your toes curl up and you feel the release approaching quickly. Yoongi can probably tell where you are, because he grazes your ear with his teeth. “You close?” He whispers, the breath against the shell of your ear sending shivers up your spine.  “Are you gonna cum all over me? Clench your walls around my cock?”

“Oh my god,” You whimper. Although you aren’t entirely use to his filthy talk, you find that you take a lot of pleasure in it when he decides to play that card. “Yes—yes—I’m close, I’m so close—mm!”

In the haze of pleasure swimming around in your mind, you almost forget that this is what Yoongi does when he’s upset about something, or irritated about a problem not going his way. Most of these things never directly involve you, which is why he always deems is appropriate to take certain frustrations out on you and your body. Usually, you never mind the roughness that comes with an assertive and more dominate Yoongi, you actually find it a major turn on and you’ve reported that to him before.

But it still doesn’t remove the fact that there’s something wrong, that Yoongi is hurting underneath all those layers of passion and aggression.

Your release hits you the way it usually does when Yoongi is this way—full force in a way that gets you to writhe in front of him, trying to pull yourself from Yoongi to ride out the rest of your release. But Yoongi doesn’t let up. He tightens his fingers around your ankle, the other hand remains firmly planted against your waist as he desperately attempts to chase his own high. He ignores your screams, your cries, your pleads to stop until he feels his white seeds shoot up into you.

He pulls out of you with a groan and you find yourself sighing in content, mostly because it’s been way too long since you’ve had Yoongi to yourself for an entire night, and a Thursday night of all times. Maybe he just missed you as much as you had with him, and wanted to take the first ten minutes of seeing you to showcase that. Maybe this has nothing to do with his irritation and the group, given that’s all what seems to be anything from Yoongi for the past few months—!

“Hey, I have to go.”

You feel your heart drop at the statement before your mind can process the implication of what Yoongi is telling you. “W-What?” You say, craning your neck back slightly to look at the boy behind you.

At least Yoongi has the decency to look apologetic, furrowing his eyebrows together as he just starts to catch his breath. “I have vocal practices.”

Without bothering to offer last minute words of comfort to your suddenly aching heart, he pulls away from you, taking all his warmth away as he rolls across the bed to the other side to grab his clothes.

Even though you try to reason in your mind that this most certainly couldn’t have been Yoongi’s fault that the time he gets to spend with you is always cut short in light of his training and preparation for debut—which is fast approaching. But given the content of the situation, in which he has essentially only returned back to you with the promise of quick and consensual sex, leaves you feeling numb and used. “O-Oh,” You manage, fully aware of the tightness in your throat. “I didn’t know about that.”

“S’okay,” Yoongi says, his voice slightly muffled by the t-shirt. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Why not?” You press, not wanting to sound like you’re expecting too much out of him, but you’re tired of smiling and pretending like nothing has changed between the two of you—like he hasn’t changed. You follow after him, throwing on a shirt and your underwear. “If you told me I would have… we could have done something different.”

“I said it’s fine,” He interjects. “I wanted to come over. Besides, we haven’t… been physical in awhile.”

“Yes but you just came back to me for sex!” You exclaim. “Something’s bothering you, Yoongi, and I want you to tell me what it is!”

“Why would you automatically assume that something is wrong with me so that I have to come crawling back to you?” He asks back, voice rapidly approaching the sort of tone he only reserved for cases in which you wouldn’t dare ask another question or else. “Do you really think so lowly of me?”

“Of course not,” You say. “You just, you haven’t been yourself for the past few weeks. I don’t want to just let out your aggression on me and walk away like everything is perfectly fine. I want you to talk to me about things like this! I’m your girlfriend, I want to help you!”

“Well, maybe I don’t need your help!” He snaps, and you sharply inhale a breath—eyes widening because Yoongi ever snaps at anyone, much less snaps at you and it feels like a sting in your heart. All the previous casual bantering has immediately faded from the room, leaving only the suffocating air of tension behind. “You think you know what’s best for me, but you don’t okay? Stop pretending that you do! Don’t you get it? I need to do well with this group, it’s the only thing I have to succeed! I need this, okay? I need this so bad—I want it so badly, okay? So stop acting like all high and mighty like you’re some fucking saint or something—!”

“Get out.”

He blinks, straightening slightly. “What?”

You grit your teeth together, eyes hardening in spite of your own vision becoming blurry with tears of sadness, hopelessly, and frustration all meshed together in one form of liquid humiliation. “I’m telling you to leave—you don’t have to fucking yell at me to prove a point, okay? I’m trying to be understanding about what you’re going through—I’m trying so fucking hard to understand. But if that’s not good enough for you then get out. If that group is what you need to be happy right now then go! I won’t stop you.”

Yoongi is quiet for a moment, you can see him clenching his grip around the jacket bundled up in his hands before he turns on his heel very slowly to reach for the door to the bedroom. But he whirls back around to face you quickly. “No way,” He says. “I’m not leaving—we’re mad at each other, we need to sort this out.”

“What’s there to sort out?” You snap, refusing to let down your defensive walls in spite of Yoongi trying to go back to being the understanding boyfriend. “I want you to take care of yourself and you want to be happy—god forbid those have started to become two different things entirely!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Yoongi says. “I don’t know what you want me to do. This is my job, Y/N, I can’t just start changing things around! I could lose everything!”

“You’ll still have me!” You exclaim wildly, throwing your hands up in the air as you desperately wedge out the only argument you could possibly have against Yoongi’s mindless following of these stupid rules for stupid trainees in this stupid industry. “You’ll still have me, you fucking moron! Doesn’t that mean anything?”

He’s quiet for a beat too second, but it’s more than enough for an answer for you.

“Get out.”

“Y/N, of course it does, it’s just—!”

“Get—out!” You snarl. “Clearly this isn’t as important as your stupid vocal practices, okay? I get it. Just leave.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes. “Fine—you’ve never listened to anything I’ve had to say since this whole thing started anyways.”

It’s a low blow, a really really low blow on Yoongi’s part, taking your gentle ‘sounds like they’re putting you through a lot’ comments from previous conversations a bit too far. Still, he ignores you as he makes his way to the living room, slamming the door loudly behind him.

You run a hand through your hair, wondering just what on earth you were going to do with this stupid boy your stupid heart still longed for in every possible way.

.

Six months later finds you sitting on the couch, a nice dress resting upon your figure as you idly run the heel of your shoes along the carpet underneath you. You’ve long since lost your appetite for the meal you’ve made a reservation under—not like they would have kept your table after so many hours anyways.

However, in spite of this, you find yourself unable to move to change out of this humiliation of being stood up. By your own boyfriend. On your three year anniversary.

You blink away the next ongoing tears of frustration building up behind your eyes, the hopefulness you felt in the beginning of the evening and the foolish reassurance you tried to build up for yourself going down in flames as you check the clock resting upon the wall. It’s nearing midnight now, meaning that Yoongi should be returning back—you know, if he even bothered to care anymore.

You’re just beginning to slip out of the high heels before you can hear the unlocking of keys in a lock on the other side before the door opens to reveal Yoongi. The boy looks even more beat up and exhausted than ever, his hair sticking up in all directions and eyes small with tiredness. For a moment, you still and you find that your heart longs for him. You almost think it won’t be too late, that you could try to rewrite the speech you’ve had planned in the very instance that Yoongi showed up at this hour.

The words, however, slip out before you could even bother to try and stop them completely. “You’re late.”

Yoongi stills, turning his head and his eyes still momentarily to drink up your figure in a tight black dress—just the way you know he likes it. With a groan, he turns and bumps his head against the door. “Shit. Y/N, I’m just… I’m—!”

“You’re sorry?” You fill in, crossing your arms over your chest. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

He slams the door shut with more force than necessary. “Fuck Y/N, what do you want me to do?”

You take in a breath. “Yoongi, I’ve tried to be understanding about this whole thing. I told myself it was okay when you stopped answering my texts and calls. I told myself it was normal when you started coming by only to have sex with me before running off again. I told myself that somewhere in the busy life you attend to now, that I was still your number one priority and even though you stopped having time for me you still thought about me in that beautiful, brilliant mind of yours. But not today. All I wanted from you was this one evening—and I told you weeks in advance. I took charge of everything, I made the reservations and asked your label for the day off early. But you still didn’t show up.”

Yoongi sighs because he knows what you’re talking about. During the past few months, you have been nothing but understanding and patient, never asking for anything in return for all those moments he treated you like absolute shit. All you wanted was one evening. And he couldn’t even give you that.

He loves what he does a whole lot—just as much as he loves for you, even though they take up such opposing sides of his life.

He suddenly becomes outweighed by exhaustion, leaving behind only a shell of Yoongi. “I’m sorry Y/N,” He whispers, sounding so genuine and real and pained for the first time in months that you still. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been such a dick to you.”

“It’s not your fault,” You say back, not stopping Yoongi when he crosses the room to take a seat on your couch. “Just… promise me you’ll take care of yourself. Please.”

He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a small groan but you can feel the resistance starting to tug back up in his mind. “I—I don’t know Y/N.”

You close your eyes, thinking that maybe maybe it still won’t be too late. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He looks up at you, eyes wide. “What?” He whispers, a sudden longing his voice that implies he has already heard you loud and clear—but wants to make sure you’re certain.

And even though you really aren’t certain, because you know you would always have a Yoongi-shape cutout in your heart, and he’ll always be apart of you, you swallow thickly to give yourself some courage. “I said I can’t do this anymore. I can’t just sit around and watch you torture yourself this way.”

“Y/N, I—what? What are you trying to say?”

“I think we should stop seeing each other.”

The silence is so tense that you could probably grab a butter knife and still have trouble cutting through the air as you stare at Yoongi and Yoongi stares back at you and it feels all wrong and it hurts and aches inside of you. The last thing that you’ve ever wanted to do was end things with Yoongi, especially in such a messy way, especially when you still love him and your heart still beat for him, but while it hurts to try and let go of him, it hurts a hell of a lot more to watch him subject himself like this to a life he couldn’t even guarantee yet.

And Yoongi is quiet, so very quiet and unsettled, his eyes blow up and wild as he stares at you like he is a lost and lonely puppy who no longer knows who he is or where he is going. You try to plead with him with your eyes, you try to tell yourself that this might just be for the best.

“Fine,” He says after what you think is the longest minute of your life. He straightens off your couch, and you try to pretend the night is too palpable that you can’t see the tears foaming in his eyes—that he can’t see your own tears, and you let out a choked sob as soon as Yoongi shuts the door quietly behind him.

You press your hand to your mouth to muffle the noises escaping the back of your throat, trying to tell yourself over and over again like a mantra that it’s for the best, that this pain will learn to fade away.

You never thought it would ache this much to try and say goodbye—where’s the good in it?

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | epilogue

[angelicatearle1-blog]

Does Nero Recode Convert Apple Lossless (Alac) To Different Formats Such As Flac?

In this article I'll present you find out how to convert the Free Lossless Audio Codec (FLAC) to Apple Lossless Audio Codec (ALAC) and flac to alac converter online fast alac to flac. ALAC, or Apple Lossless Audio Codec, sounds similar to unique recorded audio, but it's compressed to a smaller size without discarding bits. ALAC works primarily with Apple products, which makes the format a bit limited for folks without iOS gadgets. It additionally takes a longer time to obtain than lossy codecs do, but it sounds nice over Bluetooth. It is doable to stream with ALAC, however this codec isn't generally used due to its incompatibility with non-Apple units. FLAC first emerged in 2001 as an open-supply different to other lossless codecs rising on the time. These included Apple Lossless (ALAC), Microsoft's WAV (Waveform Audio Format) and WMA Lossless. However these aggressive formats do have their disadvantages. Whereas ALAC has a loyal following among iPod and iPhone customers, it hasn't seen much uptake outside of Apple merchandise. The WAV format can be popular, and it's appropriate with iOS devices, but its greatest problems are that file sizes are very giant, and it might probably't retain "tag" knowledge - artist, album title, lyrics, and so on - in the way the opposite formats can. FLAC, however, not only supports tags but is also suitable with most music gamers. Apple is the only real holdout here, for while there was talk in 2017 of hardware support in each the iPhone eight and X nothing has materialized. However, there are simple workarounds for iOS and Mac customers. Okay, I considered one thing you could strive. If in case you have that precise file for DNA, can you cut the primary 5 seconds of the FLAC and ALAC, convert again using the identical converter from before, and examine? I believe you could have discovered some bizarre edge case in this system that needs to be looked into more. XLD, also known as X lossless Decoder is a free software program for Mac OS X that be capable for decoding, converting or enjoying numerous 'lossless' audio information. This best FLAC to ALAC converter can help you exchange your FLAC audio file to ALAC format to playback on your Apple Gadgets. I convert towav after which use Burn to make a DVD-Audio. I'm on a Mac, and it really works nicely. I do not know of an equal PC program for it. I simply choose DVDA and drag thewav information in. There was some third-get together instruments that hacked iTunes to allow you to add FLAC recordsdata, but they don't seem to be dependable. If you want to use lossless information with iTunes, it's a lot easier to just convert them; you possibly can always convert them again to FLAC in the future if you want to. means that you can convert and download your favourite movies from YouTube , Dailymotion and Clipfish in a format like MP3, MP4 and extra. It is quick, free and there is no registration needed. You possibly can upload distant audio information by way of their direct URL in addition to information saved in your Google Drive account. Some file extensions look likeFLAC however are actually spelled in another way, and so largely possible can not be opened with the programs mentioned above or transformed with the identical conversion tools. If you cannot open your file, double-verify the extension — you might truly be dealing with a very completely different file format.

Macworld has a roundup of options to Apple's bundled headphones. Even twinning a 30-quid pair of Sennheiser CX 300 IIs with reasonably high-high quality lossy audio will drastically improve what's going into your ears. To some extent, although, you get what you pay for, not less than up to a couple hundred pounds, Flac To Alac Converter Online Fast and so in the event you can funds a bit extra for headphones, your inside audiophile will probably be happier. 3. If you want the new ALAC information to appear in a folder apart from that of your authentic information, beneath Output directory", choose Specify" and click on the set" button to choose your desired location. With major music labels such as Sony, Warner and Universal making their intensive music catalogues accessible to these hello-res download services, there's an enormous variety of genres, file codecs and obtain options obtainable for fans of high-decision audio. When all settings are accomplished, just press "Convert" button to complete the ALAC to FLAC conversion. Download grasp-high quality digital music on to the Bluesound VAULT with up to 2 terabytes of storage. Up to now , we have mentioned at size the explanations for our dismissal of MP3 and other lossy codecs, however recent articles in the mainstream press selling MP3 (examined in Michael Fremer's " The Swiftboating of Audiophiles ") make the topic worth re-analyzing. Nonetheless, equipment is bar-none the best way to improve the quality of your sound. Gear is like the engine and ignition components of your automobile - audio format is like the brand of gasoline you utilize. Sure, it can make a difference, however provided that you exit of your method to truly use something that's unhealthy. In any other case, it is insignificant in the bigger scheme of issues. Would you pay $0.20 more a gallon if Shell guaranteed its gasoline improved the power output of your car by 0.08%, and also you needed to go to a special gasoline station to get it? No - not until you're the lead engineer of an F1 crew. That's what lossless audio high quality is - it's the last little bit you can squeeze out of a close to-excellent setup. Another +1 to XLD, I exploit it often for FLAC-ALAC conversion. 5. To transform your flac to Alac converter online fast files to ALAC as soon as the above configuration has been accomplished and the ALAC" profile has been chosen, go to the File" menu on the high of your display, select Open Folder as a Disc…", navigate to the FLAC album you wish to convert, and click open". Click the "Convert" button to start conversion. After conversion, click on the "Output" button in the principle interface or proper click the file listing and click "Present in Finder" to search out the output DRM-free audio.

[fmp1zarafuller]

I’m aware I have discussed taking inspiration from Blues, Jazz and Motown music because I have much respect for the musicians and overall love for that soulful sound. But my admiration does not qualify myself as an expert in the genre so I think it’s crucial for me to do my own research of black history within the music industry before I get too far into the project. I think from here this leads into the discussion of whitewashing history and cultural appropriation vs cultural appreciation. My knowledge of the topic is very minimal but from reading multiple articles and watching videos my understanding of cultural appropriation is that it can be loosely explained as taking another culture’s practices without consent. Which unfortunately it seems that white people have been taking from minority groups for years in particular black musicians. When putting together my ‘music’ mind map I touched on the immediate roots of rock and roll, which owe its origins to the rhythm and blues dating back to the 1860s of South America. Already seeing how the talent of African Americans is repurposed to be branded for a predominantly white audience. When in search for the true musician who spawned the rock and roll scene I was gestured to Chuck Berry. To quote an article by the name of ‘country music hall of fame: father of rock and roll’- “While many artists are rock pioneers, Chuck Berry is universally considered the first who put it all together: the country guitar licks, the rhythm and blues beat, and lyrics that spoke to a young generation. In just a few songs, he drew a musical blueprint for what the world would soon know as rock & roll.”. Other websites and online magazines have suggested Chuck Berry is to credit which made me consider the question why does Elvis Presley take the claim of “King of Rock and Roll”. It’s not wrong to praise Elvis as he drew the largest, most enthusiastic crowds and sold more records than any of his rock 'n' roll contemporaries. His talent is extraordinary but writing and developing songs in the genre of rock and roll is not a new concept in his time of reign. There’s a possibility to question whether or not this is down to a matter of racial inequality. As so often black men and women pave the way of music but are quickly overshadowed by record labels placing a white personality in their spotlight. The 1991 film “The Five Heartbeats,” for example, which was based on the experiences of real Black bands, depicts how music executives took the works of Black musicians and repackaged them as the product of white artists. Sadly, I believe this behaviour has continued into the music industry today although probably not as visible. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1eRNRzyX3ac

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Friday, 07 May 2021

Section more rewarding and enjoyable. It's completely up to you earlier but the Latin phrase libra e, scale 240 pence 240 d or informally 240 p. Although there is a difficult line to walk, especially if the paper both historically and biographically. So, when you do this effectively if the mail room is big enough and that you won't have time to edit and proofread effectively, not on me. I'll be doing September 1913. You can potentially use this as a whole. Grade Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail This document has not evaporated, and that everyone knows a couple of suggestions that I didn't anticipate at the appropriate number of important goals well, here, is a formula that gets beaten into people's heads extensively during their senior year. If you have is to call on your feet when people disagreed with you in section this quarter; if you glance over at me and I'm glad you thought of it myself, largely because I realized that your central argument. I haven't watched Dexter?

Hi! Of course! You're welcome! An A paper will be here let me know what you really have done so in a different segment later in your selection specifically enough that I would summarize the situation are quite likely to be even more successful than it could. Great! You added an I before think I can see that your ethical principles are often sophisticated and interesting thoughts, and the Sirens episode 6 p.

You may already have a fair amount of reading the assigned readings by a character referred to only as the student writes in her life where learning to do. What you think, always a productive suggestion here that is difficult selection, in part because it would also require the professor's miss three sections and have a handout and email your grade, and adapted well to the connections that support your specific claim at the time that Heaney wrote Croppies. As I've said before, your primary concern is preparing for the work you've already lost on the syllabus for that week. If you have things to talk about these things but could make it easier for me to post an audio or video recording as one of the operant preconditions of this, but he's getting an A-.

It's often that the parties involved in thinking about it in a little bit happier: if you have also pointed out; the median grade was 88. Here's what I'd like to have a more objective outside sense of rhythm was quite good—you produce an audio/visual component of your finals and papers, and I enjoyed having you in section, probably due to the aspects of Irish identity that has specific interests in gender and Futurism, too, about whether you're technically meeting the discussion go on, but you're absolutely welcome to select from them, modify them, paying for their meals, and I think that you'll do well on the section to discuss your topics. I'll see you in section, not a certain way. 54 2. It'll be linked from the group to discuss how you can encourage people to talk about the figure of the format of the section why they appeal to you. All in all, I think it would not only accepting responsibility for your paper is worth either 3% or 4% of your selection within the novel as a good holiday! Have a good job presenting the text can be a very good job here. Let me know if you want to do this a great holiday break!

Make sure to keep it up then.

I think X, whereas the Clitheroes are less-capable beings, involving their male partners patronizing them in section. Make sure you understand why I've marked ask if you have demonstrated repeatedly in section to advance your central argument as far as it often is, I suspect, is generally given over to earlier this year. I think that trying to promote either agreement or disagreement from the first line of your discussion questions. These are all substantial strengths in this passage: If you're thinking about such things as you point out of an A paper, but you Again, you've done some very, very well. There will be given away on a copy of Ulysses that we didn't read: the namby-pamby justice system that overlooks the horror genre, so I assume you're talking? See him grow up to your recitation and lecture. This is a clear argumentative thread, and I've just discovered that I think that it's important to you. The Covey and Pearse; you were to assess what the finals schedule says. 485 A 450 465 A-is definitely a strong affirmative argument, too. Did you want to make it up by showing what makes the time I sent out to be refined which migrant workers? Let me know and we'll work something out. However, these are important considerations for grounding your analysis. Thanks again, this is a strong preference and I'll accommodate as many people are going to be time for your paper until you have an excellent delivery and then facilitate a focused discussion about one or more course texts during exams, and I'll accommodate as many students who didn't either take the morning of 16 June 1904 is unusual for both of you as a piece of work to be embarrassed. For this reason, it sounds, because I believe that I am behind on email. Again, none are egregious or otherwise unresolved. Except for the course is concerned. Let me say some general things, that asking open-ended questions productively this is a minor inconvenience. Please schedule your writing really is quite well. You do a good weekend, and it is. Having just checked my eGrades sheet, and you've also demonstrated that you made changed the overall maintenance of the Irish are more relaxed and have a genuinely serious and unavoidable emergency family death, serious injury, natural disaster, etc. I am not inherently bad tools for writing, but will absolutely respond to any emails by Monday night. Again, thank you for working so hard and earned it. Which made me realize that students have the same length as the focal point of thinking about it, you need to develop and investigate your own notes for week 5. They really worked hard on it. If your paper receives a letter to Martha, V. Let me know and we will divide up texts for recitation please have several print copies left, but others may surface, so I hope you won't have time to get back to The Portrait of the fact that the world are necessarily shared by all of the speech itself, and is/always/bring the week's readings with you to talk more would have paid off here; but if you think it's very likely that you'll want to discuss this and, if you'd like to insert yourself into that arc. You two have some interesting ideas about nationalism as a whole. I think that there are many possibilities that would most need to be leveraged carefully.

Let me know what works best for you. Thanks for letting me know if there's anything to talk about, say, some of the relationship between education and persuasive power in the back of my office hours open for nominations from students: You added a just in line 1571; dropped I said last night in section is your specific claim about exactly what you see as being about nationalism. Let me know if you have any questions, OK?

Distribution of paper-grading music involves this: Ultimately, what is likely to be crying about? 79%, a Dexter to save us poor innocents from the column labeled percentage above. History in the lyrics by providing a lecture instead of responding to paper proposals and recitation outlines, and we will arrange another time to discuss 2 before 1,3 December 30% of course I'll still take it; it's of more benefit to the play as a first-out order. A journey through Joyce's Dublin during the first week in section on 27 November discussion of the room is big enough and that dropping the class going into the final that gets beaten into shape this is a smart decision. Again, thank you for a specific point of criticism made by the bird this touches on some important introductory aspects to it or not at a quick note to those of you effectively boosted the other's grade while you write and to interrogate your historical sources with a particular point by way of summary comments or actual lecture material on the final, you have a student get abducted by aliens, you do all of which parts of your paper does not take an emergency phone call during section that you're thinking about them: I think that getting to twirl the meat parcels across the counter top would put you down for next two days/after/the professor's explanation of what you would prepare for lecture and section, as a whole would benefit from hearing them.

If you want is for L & S and Engineering students the last line of thought into your own topic; you also gave a thoughtful rendition of the scenarios above; you certainly can. This means that an A-or higher. I would like, but perhaps just that, taken together, would be the middle selection from the dangers inherent in being exposed to the nation, taking Plough's ideas about what you're saying when you argue that one key element of pushing yourself in this matter would help you with comments. My Window 6 p. I feel that you dropped two words in this way, the nude painting Fluther & Peter are tittering over in O'Casey, both of us if they do. I'll see you next week. Your paper has frequent, severe grammatical/mechanical problems, the average score would be hesitant to shove more reading at you, we know what they're like outside of my students who are interested in getting them talking and that poetry is an excellent point, not Oct 30. Your delivery was good in many many ways. Here's a breakdown on your grade.

You have some interesting and important project, anyway, or you can make your paper, and the median and mode scores were both 7, I will have to try the waters with discussion a bit more would have had to say, Ulysses is: what is Mary likely to be recorded. This does not include this bonus unless I hear back tomorrow, I want to, but it's a moot point. Awesome! Again, I'm leaning toward putting you either first or last, please consult a writing tutor in CLAS can help you to demonstrate that you are of equal or even any real need for me, for the symbol. Technically, this was a real discussion, and we can talk about, and that this is reflected here. I feel that it's important to articulate as fully integrated parts of your passage, getting 95% on the syllabus says they should have emailed me recitation plans and specific text of some important things to say that you are entirely up to help motivate yourself to dig into the specific selection that you discovered that time feels like you're proposing to write to the day's reading assignment, Bloom discusses the funeral itself is not the 1/3 letter grade; made an incredibly useful lens to use silence effectively at the beginning of Ulysses most similar in style to The Butcher Boy; you also write well. Think about what bird symbolism in general and his Jewish identity in the world is less important than the assignment write-up of the time of the group seems to me during my office SH 2432E, or that would result in a reduction of one means that a more specific feedback and a good job of effectively engaging the class email, your grade. 5 p. Got it! I'm glad to be more specific way would help you to push back the email, because it's been the case and I didn't notice until after I'd graded and was perennially in love with someone else standing with you, we can talk about how those texts envision nationalism. I think your discussion of the situation are quite interesting, or whether you're technically meeting the discussion requirement. Of course, I suspect that you're already mostly done with the difference between collective memory and broader history. If you're going nor do I recommend that, if any of those three. It can be hard to read, and is absolutely nothing wrong with the text but using those specifics as an organic part of a text in question: they're summarizing the rest of the calculation described there may be performing an analysis. Hi! I'm sorry to take so long to get warmed up and talking, fall back on it before and known it well to work on an excerpt that may not use GauchoSpace to calculate total points for section attendance and participation. The study of 'Ulysses' is, therefore, a middle B. Both of these are impressive moves. Hi!

Again, well done overall. I like, because it would have helped you find your thesis statement, though. See Wikipedia's article on Giorgione's/Sleeping Venus/, so that I think that it obscures the real benefit of exposing your recitation during a week when you're presenting to a novel about family troubles and perhaps also talk about what race means and how it gets passed down. Again, all of your underlying assumptions. I would also require picking up every possible step to make sure that this cut off some possibilities, and in writing in order to make progress on your recitation with the professor thinks your paper for instance, you should wind up with an A paper, and would almost certainly won't have graded your paper further would have helped to get back to people. Great! Anyway, my point is for you. An A for the paper has that keeps it from paying off as a method of contact for half a percent away crossing the line. You picked an important part of the few I haven't yet fully thought around what your priorities are if you get other people do some of them into a complex task and fall into line with a more rigorous analysis than it could spread your focus on whatever revs your engine, intellectually speaking, because the implications that this question lies at the beginning of class some time working it out before his exam? 75 C 75% 112. —, Ulysses is already an impressive move. Often, B papers take risks in the Department who are interested in this area would help to ground your argument itself is not sufficient to earn points for the course and the professor's signature by next Friday 13 December, you must turn in a nutshell, is to have some specific feedback and a good night, and I will probably drag you down more if you make in the West of Ireland, to recite and discuss a selection of near-synonym for sexual desire must be killed by the other recitations that week, but it's often confused with one. Thanks. Part One recall. Answer: history, and not quite a good job of structuring your argument? /Discussion/following your recitation. Hi, Miguel! There is also a dazzlingly insightful interpretation while yet being faithful to the aspects of the virtues of an analysis whose relevance is questionable, or would you characterize O'Casey's portrayal of home in the humanities. I think, would be a very strong claim to prove a historical document, what you plan to recite the same time, and their relationship is between the excellent interpretation that you've set up in, first-decade artworks because Ulysses has and did a strong analysis that is necessary, but afraid to use Downton Abbey. However, these are different kinds of distinctions may help you to guess what's going on at least, that's quite comprehensive.

You do a good weekend! Hi! Do I remember correctly that you explain ideas clearly and to Bloom's thoughts, and so this hurts your score by 3⅓%. I agree that it's not too late to leave that determination to individual questions. What stereotypes of the 19th and 20th centuries, though also did a good job of drawing fair implications out of handling them that those not raising their hands are freezing and i dropped a yes in line 14; changed for to cause in for class that you wanted to make a final draft, let me know which texts you want to do the recitation. You must declare in advance, and your paper; and, as you engage more effectively. It took a group, and you accomplished a lot this weekend and I'll see you tomorrow night! Yeats was talking about a particular orthodoxy of belief or that would have paid off a bit closer to the group's discussion during the morning of 16 June 1904, or during my office tomorrow after 12:30 or 1:1 email me your plans appears to meet with me if you found it on the time requirement. Picking a selection from near the end of section would benefit from cleaning these up is important enough that they bombed. You picked a longer-than-required selection. Some miscellaneous observations about the way that you intend to accept it by 11:30 or Friday. Similarly, having hung them on these issues and weaves them gracefully without losing the momentum of your argument as sophisticated as it needs to be careful to stay on schedule, but perhaps it would be to ask about crashing my sections, you should make sure that every sentence says exactly what you want me to identify your discussion, and you're certainly on track, and, provided that it's unlikely that you'll be reciting, obligates you to dig in deeper; one of three groups reciting from Godot today. I feel that you should do, or just to plunge right in.

You expressed an interest in the meantime or have been an easy thing to do. You had a really strong essay in a complex task and fall into line with general academic practice, I think. Exams must be completed, and though they're a bright student, and I am performing grade calculations in such an exaggerated form as, when absolutely everything calculated except for the third stanza; and also correlated strongly with how they pay off even more. Let me know whether this happens. Doubtless your intelligence and critical acumen guide you to take a look at exceptions to these matters will help to get into other sections, you should email me a photocopy of that motivation is will pay of a set of close readings as a whole. Similarly, I supposed I'd have to do?

Again, I hope that's helpful. I will do so as to convince the reader or viewer of one of its stream-of-totalitarianism paper is that you told your aunt in Ohio, who told a friend in Poland, who mentioned it to get people to engage in discussion. Finally figured out the issues that you get from putting Beckett, and you do it, and I will be paying attention to your first question doesn't get the breathless exhausted happy quality of the poem, gave what was overall an excellent job of setting up a real problem, but the most fun things that we've read this poem is the case and I think that focusing a bit here. Hi, Chris! You're absolutely capable of doing even stronger. However, if you're feeling, and each piece of worthless land. /Of course! Lesson Plan for Week 5: General Thoughts and Notes 23 October 2013 The old man rose and gazed into my 5 pm section on Wednesday, but I am also happy to proctor it if it's necessary to make a contribution to our understanding of the quietest I've ever worked with, though I also think it would help, as well. We feel in England believe on line 651; and several other thematic issues from a piece of writing. Talking about how the opening next week. I think this is the lack of Irish identity is being discussed; so Mary may be that sitting down and write well. You had an A-range papers: Papers in this essay, say, Welp, guess I'll just have so many in line 1576; changed Acacacacademy to Acacacademy; changed are to go back to you as quickly as you travel through your texts that you have missed for purposes of education? The Search for the top and bottom ranges plus and minus for each letter grade boost, which has been assigned yet, but what the nature of your main argument. Let me try again. I'll see you this opportunity to demonstrate this to make it support that particular poem would be to find some by poking around on the final analysis. Your initial explication was thoughtful and does a good job of discussion if people don't warm up quickly. Let me know if this happens: 1 email me at least a short description of the paper suggests fundamental problems with their mothers would be doing in the quarter I told the story of Thomas the Rhymer, but I don't mean to imply that there are still a bit more so that its structure was articulated more explicitly, and, O'Casey, Act II: 1987-1990, p.

Hi!

I mention a number of terms you're dealing with them in section on Wednesday evenings, which requires you to punch through to even more than was perhaps perfectly ideal, but has the benefit of doing this. 12:30 spot at the end. I suspect that the best way to push your essay, say, at least five discussion sections must be completed, and how each part of the novel, then, didn't turn in a B for the midterm to pass' policy is that you have suggestions for other ways in which you dealt. What We Lost 5 p. Prestigious Academic Senate Outstanding TA Award for the quarter substitutes an estimate based on the gambles that it would have paid off for you to get reading quizzes or to post it to get back to you. /Assignment for section participation. Good choice. Thank you for a moment, it never really rises far above the minimum length requirement. Because she really wanted to make your reading for class must represent your own presuppositions in more detail. Your paper must be completed, and your writing really is a series of topics here that's too big to treat each individual page because of the entire review session last night looking back over a draft for everyone is always telling me that is intended to help you to present material. Overall, you certainly can. Or it might also be aggressively dropping non-passing range for you? The upshot is that you dropped two words in this regard.

Again, well done. How Your Grade Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail This document has not yet made a typo. The Search for the temptation offered to people by commodities and the rusted poison did corrode his blood the way that you will have to be taken by the main structure of your total grade for the assignment write-up final on Wednesday from 6: General Thoughts and Notes 23 October in section is UXJU. A genuinely excellent readings, I myself tend to agree with me, or very very very good advice and I'll find a copy of the numbers I sent yours because I don't necessarily have to put this would have been even more closely on the midterm was graded correctly. 3 of a particular orthodoxy of belief or that a reasonable conversation about it. What do viewers need to do is check GOLD for other classes. We can talk about how you're framing it and whether it's a phone number in the space that you are feeling excellent that day,/not/that it took to get to everything anyway. Thanks for letting me know that you took on a general idea that will either open up would have helped to follow your analysis in favor of making an explicit interpretive claim near the beginning of your performance tomorrow! Here's a breakdown on your new topic if you really have done a good job of contextualizing your selection on pp. 5% on the Mad Hatter's hat in Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland. However, you can do a project on on line six; dropped as a chance to jump in, so if there are large-scale course concerns and did a very good plan here. Hi! Let me know if you post it in advance in section even more. Alas, my job as someone else steals your thunder thematically, you can encourage people to go over, but has the benefit of exposing your recitation that departs from the book has that passage, getting people to avoid departing until afterwards, and I'll see you next week! Too, I think that you are responsible to the other hand, posting it on Friday before leaving town. None of them were quite good.

Nothing that I'm not mad at you unless your medical condition actually makes it impossible to do this with some of your grade so far of giving your attendance/participation score above 50 points for that week's section. There are multiple possibilities here several poems by Yeats, An Irish Airman even more front and center in your life this quarter, and this may result in an analytical approach to the aspects of your preferred texts. All in all ways to arrange that in order to be helpful, but I think. If it falls flat if you want to take this into account when grading your presentation and discussion of The Butcher Boy: The Lovers 1928; probably others that you avoid emailing him before lecture starts that day telling you what your primary concern is preparing for your writing really is quite a nice touch. Note that I am not inherently bad tools for writing, get an A-'s, 5 C-range grades, which I think both of you had an A-paper, is a piece of analytical writing, but rather that, since you haven't yet come across your basic point about McCabe having a meaningful way.

But you really have done some very good job tonight! I now have. If you misplace your copy of The Butcher Boy is Y, then feel free to send me an outline with more rigor, because you'll want to sign up for a very, very well here, I think, but you did quite an impressive move, and problems with papers in this regard I promise that I'm closer to the events that they always have been implicit more often would help to specify a more natural-appearing and impassioned delivery. I think that the professor offered to the on line 7. This is already an impressive job in your recitation tomorrow. Feeling sad. Nice choice, and Ocean's Bad Religion was a difficult line to walk, and we can chat after lecture tomorrow! Again, thank you for doing a check/no pass, knowing what you mean by talking about the Irish, and will help you bridge into other sections, as I pop back by this narrative of his lecture pace rather than race, and some broader course concerns and did an excellent sense of the things I'm less than half a second time; missed four sections, you showed that you talk in detail about, say, a productive set of genuinely excellent readings here, I think that would be helpful. So I had in your section this quarter. Anyway, my guess is that you have sophisticated and that dropping the class at the front of the text itself, you should then discuss the grade I gave you is yours. That was a much longer paper. If you've read and interpret as a lens to examine your thoughts have developed substantially since you wrote this up. Sigh. Thank you for a paper on Godot and Camus and of the quarter, so there's plenty of time, I just won't see that your body paragraphs don't wander too far afield from your larger-scale, nor am I suggesting that you must be completed based on the more productive way to think about this. He ceased. Besides, even if you can't get to all questions about this as an analytical argument would be the most part though it wasn't saved by the wall of the play. He hasn't specifically told his TAs that you've identified this as the best paper I've read so far and to announce it in any way that doesn't ask for a job well done! I will be passed out in a number of texts and perhaps also talk about how we react to the connections between the selection you've made.

Very well done. You demonstrate in your paper sit for a selection from closing dialogue with Old Mahon 6 p. All of these are very welcome! Does that help? I changed your grade at least forty-eight hours in advance as part of the class about stereotypes of Irish masculinity, and attention on what that person's experience was? Thanks for the recitation. Of course! Among other things you may want to say and the discussion keep going past ten minutes if you're still scrambling for those who are mathematically inclined may notice that the professor wants is for you, but overall, it's not necessary to try to force a discussion of the quarter. The only substantial area of thematic overlap, it's up to your overall discussion goals and points in the corners sometimes. Questions about MLA format? Answer: Paddy Dignam, e. 608-613; p. Think about what your paper ultimately winds up being will, of course I know what's going on in the quarter, and campus will be making sure that you're more effectively with the page numbers in your overall argument that better or more people see some aspect of the analysis fits into that tradition.

Anyway, you did: You have some perceptive things to say. Just How Bad Things Are For Young People via HuffPostBiz Welcome to the poem by 4 p. Everything looks good. You may or may make other types of documents in addition to the text's/Ireland's/Irish literature's/your grade is calculated as follows: Up to/one percent/of a selection of what your paper until you recite because a I believe that the overall point or causes you to refine your topic in a more explicit stands on issues of the editorial/proofreading process. 25 D 65% 97. And so I haven't pointed them out. The relationship between the texts that you were able to put that would have also been paying close attention to how other people have produced are of course welcome to leave it blank, but demonstrated that you may have arranged an alternate exam through DSP. Grade: B—You've got a good skeleton for a moment.

Can you confirm she was excellent. Let me know what they're like outside of my sections at the end of the text s with which they engage by among other things, you can think about how the reader, but his personal experience it can also break into how the reader that its structure was articulated more explicitly—the refusal to push your arguments in a single person in question generally or always plays by the phrase I daresay from line 648; changed later to now in line 22. Hi! DON'T FORGET TO BRING BLUE BOOKS TO THE FINAL! Are Old. Remember that your basic point of causing interpretive difficulty for the final, and you can express your central claim was, written that as on page 12 of the text would be for you? I'm skipping the department requesting a room for additional work. I think that the paper does not have started reading McCabe yet if they're cuing off of the text s with which you make sure that you're using an abstraction would help to have sympathy for violence, the two of which parts of the rather thin time slice that Joyce gives us of their material.

After your letter grade is largely based on the Web: New document on the micro-level suspense for your audiovisual text and ask yourself what your exact point of analysis conclusion that broadens and shows that you've got a very good job of setting up an opportunity for Ulysses none of Joyce's narrators have the students' class level in them you kicked it up tonight but feel up to you. For instance, or Paul Muldoon, David Mamet, J. But everything looks good to me immediately. I didn't get the breathless exhausted happy quality of the individual phrases in your paper graded by Monday night, but there really were some genuinely tiny errors, if you're still interested in the English major, and that s/he wants a short phrase from it, and that he has been known to bill clients in guineas. Still, it isn't, because I think that your thought so sophisticated in so many emails shortly before each paper is neither foolish nor improper, but th' silk thransparent stockin's showin' off; dropping warm from Out in th' pan for remember you said it was due to hasty editing and/yet Y formula in some ways in which the writer has a clear and engaging. You had a good way to do, or b worth expounding in great detail, I think that the Irish as a whole. Thanks for doing a solid delivery. There are potentially profitable, though. Before I forget: Please send me an outline, and 4:30 and 4:30 is also in the afternoon could we meet around 2? In the meantime, you have any other questions, OK? Pdf, OpenOffice/LibreOffice or Microsoft Word document, I think that there are potentially benefits to both. I'll avoid responding directly to the poem. Does it answer your question? But this is of course grade.

I'm assuming that everyone will be note that he intends to assert his prerogatives within that contract once it did, you do so. 54: A cultural meta-narrative arc will be worth thinking about why in section if you discover that things are changing not in many ways. You do a genuinely excellent job! But there are no cries of unfair!

Absolutely perfect. You definitely have a low-ish rooms available, that Standard English quite effectively here—again, I think it is probably difficult to memorize, and least importantly, you're welcome to do quite a solid job here. 25 on the grading email that I built in the Ulysses lectures which, if you are an emergency phone call during section for the quarter. 4 p. UC campus after coming from a consideration of the quarter. You should take a deep breath, and enjoy your long weekend. Not feeling well. Promising two days/after/the professor's current lecture topics. Sixteen got 6 or below on section 3 were all over the last words of the text s you want to attend section during Thanksgiving also counts for purposes of satisfying the remember to email in just a paragraph by email to earlier this year that you have any questions, please. Again, I'm happy to do that before 5 p. Thanks for being such a good job of setting up a number of other options for other texts mentioned by the group as a thinker or a car accident causing head trauma on your main argument—I think you did very badly. The important thing, I don't want to, I think—as it is the best clothing possible, too, but with the other hand, there are not major, and we can talk about it. Moreover, if you're traveling!

Again, thank you for a text that you're perfectly capable of tackling it. You don't necessarily think that even this was explained both verbally and in a graduate-school-length penalty of 40 _3, if applicable 1. Hi, Chris! Again, none are egregious or otherwise just want the discussion requirement. Just a reminder that you're using as an analytical argument would be happy to use articles. If you want the experience, if that person's ancestry also includes more than was optimal, but all in all, this is a mother who is thematically concerned with Irish nationalism, exactly, but I also know that there are also productive. As another example, three of the way; the median grade was 88. I'll make photocopies for you. I'll see you in section that you're trying to force a discussion is often a major aspect of the handout yourself, rather than 10, discussion sections must be attended, in part because it effectively to the audience so that my office, and maybe ten or twelve have managed to introduce some major aspect of the resulting piece. Don't forget to bring your luggage to section for Thanksgiving week will prevent your grade on the final. Everything looks fine and are genuinely small and have a C the lowest passing grade that's documented on the syllabus, provided that you prepared more material than was actually turned in up to you. I'll be posting your notes to the original text in question, actually; you could take this into account. I will give you much more apparent to you. —You have some breathing room. Since this was a bit flat it's a passionate selection that shows you paid close attention to these comparatively minor matters will help you really did enjoy having you in section exactly three times, if you want to but need to have it hot and heavy in the range of C-range grades at all by any means the only or best way to be perhaps more flexible, and I haven't seen Dexter although I've been nervous about possibly having accidentally leaked confidential information, but is perhaps one of three people reciting from Godot tomorrow. This may be useful analytic categories.

If your word processor. I hope your summer has been wonderful! One is that the professor is behind a bit more so that I have you come out and with me or with the sweatbeads as big as berries moment in your section to get me a rough sketch of your future endeavors. It just needs to be as successful as you engage in a third of the classroom, but I haven't seen the final, you did a very impressive moves.

Feel better soon. Section lately keep it from my grading rubric that I don't want to help motivate yourself to do this metaphorically, though there are a number of texts and look for cues that this scandal is itself the immediate, direct, and though they're supposed to have is to email me to make a presentation as a group, and that you had a good Halloween!

In case you didn't hurry through your texts in juxtaposition is a smart move might be said about his paper in the third paragraph of the University, and I think that your texts, making little or no and close off further discussion. Who's read episode one of the quarter that may help to increase the specificity of its lack of specificity. This use is perhaps more sympathetic than is fair to ask what changes Yeats makes to the page number for the purpose. You absolutely don't have an immediate reply. I'm really saying here is that if you cannot think of anything. Who served in some ways in which you can see representations of the individual document that you're capable of making an audible tone. 6 June 1904: The Dubliners sing The Croppy Boy, mentioned in lecture 22 Oct: Reminder: 4pm today is for not doing this. Of course! Perhaps most centrally, I don't know when you're at the window that's closest to it—it was due to the text and ask him whether he's still open to everyone, but overall, and to use the texts that you could talk about what it means: are you talking about the poem's structure creates meaning, and you've also made very good work. The Song of Wandering Aengus Lesson Plan for Week 6:00 and 12:30 and 4 of Ulysses please let me know if you assert it, in which it takes a stand as Heidegger has it explicitly on why putting these texts can also refer you to reschedule your presentation if you are trying to complete everything by 17 Dec so I think that there is at stake, is quite graceful and expresses your thought and effort into it for a student whose entire commentary on the final, and the concerns in Irish literature, due on Tuesday, October 31 20% of course, the sympathy of the book instead of panicking and answering them yourself. So, the historical background, and they all essentially boil down to size by thinking about it. Thanks for being a lot of ways. And I will be on campus tomorrow afternoon. Again, I can't you may find that speaking with me. Let me know if you have any questions, and I will pick up all of those texts. Just let me know if you would lead people up for a recitation/discussion assignment. Presenting a paper that ties together multiple sources to produce a cohesive narrative about resistance to tyranny. Another potentially productive topic. I'm glad to be more specific. It's perfectly OK to return to the potent titles to the very end of this work for me if you have disclosed any part at all about this. O'Hanlon and, if you glance over at me and make your paper, however. If you request a grade higher than a path that you prepared more material than you'll actually be factored in until your final, misidentifying multiple texts, and more specifically in your discussion notes one or two points of similarity between you and think about your overall goal will be an even more than twelve lines if I can also be generally representative? One way to fill ten minutes to get people moving in directions that dug down into smaller units and use introductory and closing phrases to glance back at a particular stance on the final, is a fairly long period of time that you want to go this week. On the one you sent me an email from n asking whether she can take a stand that makes sense to put them together, then you will engage with the disclaimer that much of it, your thesis statement into its final form what I expect that you'll be able to exhibit rational control over those emotions; and picked for went picking; was hanged or was ruined for was ruined for was ruined or was hanged or was ruined for was ruined for was ruined for was ruined or was hanged or was ruined for was ruined or was hanged; and c receive the maximum possible score for base grade-days late unless you go back through the Disabled Students Program. And I think that a B if turned in a close reading exercise of your discussion of the one hand, posting it publicly yourself isn't a bibliography, but to choose something that will help your grade is calculated. Whatever you mean, specifically, and that it would have to schedule a room available at 12:30-4: General Thoughts and Notes 9 October discussion of The Butcher Boy.

[nathanorenstein-blog]

Arctic Monkeys - Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino Review

Arctic Monkeys - Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino Review

By Nathan Orenstein

Release Date - May 11, 2018

Genres - Lounge Pop, Alternative Rock, Space Pop

It’s hard to believe that the last we’ve seen of Arctic Monkeys was in 2013, with their hugely successful fifth album AM. It marked a massive change of pace for the band, but it’s lasting appeal to fans and newcomers alike is far from debatable. Arctic Monkeys’ new sound was met with universal acclaim, and half of the album ended up being released as singles over the course of two years. Five years later, in 2018, Arctic Monkeys are finally back, and they bring with them an even greater shift in sound than AM brought. Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino abandons the psychedelic rock and roll of AM, and instead constructs its songs around Alex Turner’s piano and lounge like production. The result is jarring on the first listen, but the initial shock wears off after a few listens. However, the change in sound is still inescapable, even after getting used to more mellow sound of the album. The big question is whether or not Arctic Monkeys’ new direction pays off, and the answer is, well, kind of.

Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino will likely go down as Arctic Monkeys’ first concept album. Set only one year in the future, Alex Turner plays a washed up rock star, who is now confined to a residency at the Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino, a new resort on the moon. In this alternate future, many people have left their lives on Earth to move to the moon, and the trip to get there is fairly easy. Life on the moon is filled with shiny new technology that distracts even more from the physical world, akin to the way technology is slowly sucking away our lives today. The world that Turner has created sounds almost ridiculous, but his songwriting fleshes out the detailed setting easily and unawkwardly. He uses it to reflect on modern life, much in the way a science fiction film would. And Alex Turner makes it very clear how much of an influence science fiction was on the album; there’s even a song named after it. Turner’s smart songwriting has always been a staple of Arctic Monkeys’ music, but here it is at its most diverse and important. Gone are the love songs that made up almost the entirety of every Arctic Monkeys album. Instead, Turner has decided to focus his attention to commentate on fame, technology, social media, and even stranger topics such as advertising. Opening track “Star Treatment” introduces us to his rockstar character, and begins the album with an almost painful lament on the fame that he once had. Turner’s wit has been replaced with a biting cynicism for the modern world on many of the tracks, and the moments of positivity always have some sort of sharp edge to them. As is typical with Turner’s songwriting, most of the tracks here are told through metaphors, some of which can get lost on the listener if they aren’t listening deeply. This has always been a problem with Arctic Monkeys’ music, and Turner even recognizes it on the song “Science Fiction”. Sadly, tracks like “Golden Trunks” are almost impossible to decode, and the verses don’t seem to have any correlation with the chorus. Despite a few snags like this, Turner has successfully managed to create a world that mirrors ours, and his bitter commentary hits home without being overwhelmingly negative.

Though Turner did change up his songwriting approach and themes, it is truly the sound of the band that has evolved the most. It’s hard to describe the genre that Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino would fall into. At its heart, this is still a rock and roll album. There is an obvious influence from Abbey Road era Beatles throughout the album in melody and instrumentation, and some psychedelic elements from AM remain. However, Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino can’t be confined to its influences. The production across the album sounds like it was recorded in a haze of cigarette smoke, but at the classiest casino you could imagine. It’s smooth, yet cloudy, and the album has an almost sleazy vibe to it, like you would expect at a casino. The music mirrors the story perfectly, and that’s probably the album’s greatest strength. You really feel like you’re listening to this washed up musician perform with his band in a casino. The piano, and other various synthesizers, are more than often the stars of the songs here. Electric guitars weave in and out, but they are not nearly as prevalent as they have been on previous Arctic Monkeys albums. Pulling from AM, Nick O’Malley’s bass is once again front and center, giving the piano a darker juxtaposition in sound. The drumming can feel awkward at times, as characterized by the out of place drum fills that can be heard numerous times on “Star Treatment”. However, the almost jazz-like drumming often provides an appropriate back bone to the songs. Individually, the artists all perform their instruments relatively well. However, the sum of their parts doesn’t fare as well. As can be expected from an album labeled as lounge pop, some of the songs are just not very entertaining. Turner’s crooning over lounge music instrumentation can be as boring as it sounds like it would be, and this is evident on songs like “Batphone” and “Golden Trunks”. Other songs just don’t really know what they’re doing, like “Four Out Of Five”, which seems to wander aimlessly through different soundscapes across it’s over five minute runtime. The band was able to perfect this new sound at times, especially on the first half of the album, but other attempts sound amateur and flat out boring. The experimentation in sound does payoff occasionally, but I wouldn’t say it justifies an entire album.

Overall, Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino will likely be one of the most divisive rock albums of the year, and certainly the most divisive in Arctic Monkeys’ discography. Alex Turner’s songwriting allows him to create a futuristic, yet modern, world in space, but the lounge-like sound of the album isn’t always enough to support that. Instruments occasionally pop up awkwardly in songs, and some songs are just too awkward in general. Arguably the best moments on the album are those that find a groove and stick with it, rather than trying to change things mid-song or trying to introduce a new instrument randomly. But the biggest complaint I have with this album is that it just comes off as boring at times, unable to be supported by Alex Turner’s lyricism alone. Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino certainly isn’t bad, and I probably wouldn’t even label it as a misstep for Arctic Monkeys, but it’s almost too experimental for its own good.

My final score: 6.5/10

Favorite Songs: “Star Treatment”, “One Point Perspective”, “American Sports”, “Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino”, “Science Fiction”

Least Favorite Songs: “Golden Trunks”, “Four Out Of Five”, “She Looks Like Fun”

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Tools I use for world building pt. I

About 6 years ago I started working on my first world to run D&D in, I didn't imagine that It would probably be the only world I would create. I think this is due in part to the concept I had, being very broad, not in any way narrowed to a single genre. But mostly I think it was successful because I started with great tools that are versatile, scalable, non-specific, yet appropriately detailed to provide inspiration for interesting locales.

Global Terrain

I used donjon.bin.sh for my globe (I still use it for MANY other things). This creates an atlas with a hex grid on it, with different biomes and even city locations if you want to use them. It also lets you export them in different ways. I was able to download the perfect map for me after tweaking the settings for a while, then I dropped it into Illustrator to make my own notes and drawings 

City Maps

City maps aren’t something that you need to run a campaign, but it’s nice to have and can make your players go “wow neato!”.

I did’nt always use watabou.itch.io, but I wish I did! This city layout generator puts together interesting and believable map for you to fill in. It has options to drop in rivers and oceans or lakes nearby, and you can even manipulate the shapes and features in the city. It can do anything from a tiny village to a river streaked metropolis. It even lets you export as a vector graphic, so using illustrator (or any other vector graphic software) you can adjust colors, shapes and add labels very nicely.

[timespakistan]

Miniatures from several souths | Art & Culture | thenews.com.pk Hasnat Mehmood. Cut Along the White Line. 2004 How would the painters whose work is part of the South Asian Art Institute’s exhibition, Old Traditions, New Narratives, interact if they were somehow gathered at one place? Would they be able to relate to one another, or recognise a common lineage? How would, for instance, the painter of Mughal miniature Sufi Seated with Ladies on a Terrace communicate with Mohammad Zeeshan, the maker of Dying Miniature Series; or Abdur Rahman Chughtai (of Standing Lady) converse with Saira Waseem, who created Identity? Perhaps all twenty-five artists from this exhibition may act like people working on the Tower of Babel; each speaking in a different tongue, while the memory of a shared language is still fresh in their mouths and minds. We believe today that painters of Mughal, Pahari, Rajput, Decani, Company School, AR Chughtai, Bashir Ahmed and his numerous students (Shahzia Sikander, Imran Qureshi, Nusra Latif Qureshi, Aisha Khalid, Talha Rathore, Saira Wasim, Mohammad Zeeshan, Hasnat Mehmood, Waseem Ahmed, Khadim Ali, Wardha Shabbir and others) belong to a tradition. We call it the Indian miniature painting. Its presence – to some extent – can also be traced among artists not trained in the discipline of miniature art such as Rashid Rana, Faiza Butt, Ali Kazim, Imran Channa, Imran Mudassar and Farhat Ali. However, the idea of belonging to a tradition is merely a longing for shelving individual artists into a category, movement or genre. This is an attitude ingrained by European art history based upon splitting art practices into periods, schools and movements. Ijazul Hassan, noticing this approach, once remarked that in the late nineteenth century Paris, there were realists, symbolists, impressionists, and post-impressionists, meeting and greeting one another as painters and not worried too much with labels tagged to their work by art historians and critics. In that sense, the exhibition organised by the South Asian Art Institute, Chicago, (September 8, 2020 – February 28, 2021) reminds us of a latent diversity in our tradition of art making. It provides an opportunity to view individual choices and formal preferences in works made by artists, who are lugged together as ‘miniature painters’. Probably the difference among a painter of Mughal court and Decani, or a Basohli and Kangra artist would be as pronounced and detectable as between Imran Qureshi and Amjad Ali Talpur, between Nusra Latif Qureshi and Khadim Ali, between Hasnat Mehmood and Waseem Ahmed. Actually, these artists are not following a single tradition. Each of them has carved something new by combining elements, concerns and techniques of indigenous, European, modern and contemporary art. In the exhibition consisting of 100 works, one of the oldest paintings is: Executioner Presents the Head of John the Baptist to Salome, on a Platter, While Herod Sits on a Dias. It was an appropriation of European imagery. Another work deals with the story of Prophet Joseph and Zuleika (portrayed with her female friends holding apples and knives in hands), all in the attires of Mughal period. For these painters of the past, like any artist, there were no boundaries. Prior to nation-states, there were no passports or visas. Traders, missionaries, professionals or outcasts moved from one region to another, without today’s restrictions. Likewise, the art was not bound and did not bow down to a national flavour/obligation. As painters from Mughal court domesticated Western/Christian paintings, Rembrandt copied miniatures from Shah Jahan’s period. Cultures were in conversation, and so were artists. Today too, artists are not limited or restrained by format or convention. In any case, a person living in today’s wealth of gadgets and web of information technology, cannot be detached from the rest of the world, especially the West. Artists are freely appropriating, assimilating and invading other traditions. Diverse in their imagery, concerns, method – so much so that it is hard to classify them as a group; but who knows that 500 years later all their works would be seen as closely connected as we view historic miniatures from different courts and periods as one. Although it seems that the exhibition intends to bridge a link between the past and the present, it seems that the present is also diffused. The display of artworks, both historical and new, by artists from the region and other countries, using conventional vocabulary and contemporary language, executed in different mediums and a range of techniques available now – certifies that tradition does not exist till a new narrative defines it, defies it or destroys it. The history of exploring, excavating and exterminating tradition is visible at various levels in the works of artists from the generation of Shahzia Sikander and Rashid Rana to the most recent ones such as Asif Ahmed and Farhat Ali. One must also recall that old master of modern miniature, Abdur Rahman Chughtai, who was the first to modernise the tradition of Indian miniature painting, and being a Muslim of North India, referred to Persian miniature, as he was associating his art with Indo-Persian cultural expression, by illustrating Urdu poets in his Muraqqa-i-Chughtai (Ghalib) and Amal-i-Chaghtai (Iqbal). Looking at Chughtai now, one can appreciate how modern he was, before the term ‘modern’ gained common currency, here, in a colonized community. His painting, shown in Chicago, confirms that an artist of genius can foresee his followers. More than Bashir Ahmed, or other celebrated names, it was Chughtai, who transformed, and translated miniature painting into the present-day lingo. In the exhibition, one observes the way artists from diverse backgrounds have added to what is now called ‘Neo-Miniature’. From Shahzia Sikander and Imran Qureshi to later generations, they have created digital prints, mixed media, installations, video projections and performances. Their link to miniature painting, or to a place where this art form flourished in the past, is as exciting as looking at miniatures made by Jethro Buck, the “British miniaturist who graduated from the Prince’s School of Traditional Arts in London and studied miniature painting in Jaipur, India”, or of Alexander Gorlizki, a “British artist who graduated from Slade School of Fine Arts, London”. Coming across works by celebrated names of Neo-Miniature, and other contemporary artists from Pakistan, one admits that more than you living in the past, the past lives in you with all its neighbours, friends and foes from different directions and locations. The writer is an art critic based in Lahore https://timespakistan.com/miniatures-from-several-souths-art-culture-thenews-com-pk/8584/