#how else would he know of vocal techniques to teach

[jellyluchi]

I just got so emotional reading this one fic and a poto graphic novel like I know Erik is a terrible person who has done so much wrong he could never make any of it right but it gets me every single time when he receives a kiss just one kiss on his forehead and he believes he's experienced all the happiness the world has to offer and is genuinely ready to die 🥲like I can't stop thinking what it would have been like if he'd grown up with love instead of so much hate he's genuinely so entertaining and loves performing for people just to get an ounce of positive attention and he's so good at it ! he's uncompassionate sometimes but has a guilty conscious only if he's able to experience some good emotion for once he's such a showman and so intelligent like GRRR HE WAS SO ROBBED he was literally robbed of a life and still happy to die alone just for ONE KISS

[notstilinski]

Buzzfeed Unsolved Starters !

Taken from the new and final season (season seven) of the YouTube series, Buzzfeed Unsolved! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit! 

“She was weak-sauce. Now she lives in my ribcage.”

“Don’t you want to throw a book at this cocky little-“

“This is the technique that you learn at ghost hunting school. They teach you this on day one.”

“Do you think that elderly gentleman was actually the fuckin’ devil?”

“Come take a seat on papa’s lap.”

“We invite you to make a home in the soul of (Name)!”

“I’m gonna haunt him, but I’m a little scared of this one.”

“That’s the hottest ass that the internet has ever seen.”

"I'm summoning all my ghost energy to vocalize into the physical world, "Hey. What the fuck are you doing?"

“When we first started this, did you ever think that you’d be on your knees and acting like a cat?”

"Uh.... Guys? The front door is open, like, completely open. As is the basement door."

“You know how ol’ bees stab you with a machete?”

“Are you drinking the Holy Water?! That’s disgusting!”

“Those are my boundaries. And my therapist said that it’s very important to set boundaries.”

If I woke up and saw that in the mirror, I'd be like, "Hm. Today is not my day."

“I’m starting to emotionally shut down.”

"You know your boys packing while he's sleeping."

"When I actually cross these items off that bucket list, I'm not really excited."

"I don't believe in ghosts, but I do believe that Iowa is haunted."

“Hey, you sick little weirdo.”

“Talk to me. I don’t respect you, that should rile you up. You suck.”

"I sense the sarcasm on your voice."

"You do what you do to make your partner feel safe."

“So, let’s see if I end up in a puddle of my own blood!”

"It's extra scary because the environment that you'll be in; darkness, quiet, is exactly the conditions when he murdered all those people."

"They just seem to have no fear. Which I used to see as courageous, but now I just think that they're an insane person."

“I’m so vulnerable right now! Oh my god!”

“It doesn’t feel right in there when you’re alone.”

“I'm surprised we don't hear any screams right now. He may be dead. It’s possible his heart just stopped, and he’s laying on the floor in there.”

“You look like you’re gonna ask me for some marmalade.”

“You murdered my family, now you're gonna die."

“There ain’t nothing more in this world that I want to see right now than those man mounds.”

"I appreciate the honesty. You are an asshole but-"

"Oh, shit, that's right. I always forget that you're a huge freak."

"You won't be alone down here. You'll have, uh, this creepy child."

"I love for him to come out of one of these solo investigations covered in blood."

"He's the only person that I know who, in winning, lost even more."

"Would love to introduce this little piece of shit to them.”

“We know you’re not a supernatural hitman.”

"Last night, we went out in New York City, and we painted this town with our vomit."

"See, I knocked my dang hat off because I was murdering so hard."

"I've never seen a man lose so many battles in a row. It's kind of crazy."

"We yuck it up in the house. I feel very safe and, then, I'm left to my own devices, and I lose my mind."

“I was talking a lot of trash earlier, and this is your time to really stick it to me.”

"They certainly know how to make a scary-ass fuck looking castle."

"Gather round, gather round. Look at the miserable moppets!"

"You're not gonna profit off of buying a castle and filling it with Dracula actors."

"You don't have to tell me anything else about him! I love (Name)!"

“I don’t like that I can’t escape this thing fast if I have to.”

“Not stoked, not stoked to do this. How did this become my life?”

"You're rarely afforded the opportunity to walk down a long tunnel and stand at the end of it in total darkness. And, ya know, I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

"I'll Venmo (Name) fucking money if they let me smash it with a hammer. Or step on it with my boot."

“Why not end the season with the demon I started with?”

"I don't like to seem overeager when I answer the phone."

“I laid on a pentagram and screamed at the devil!���

“(Name)’s don’t play pranks. We also don’t play sports.”

“I’m on the pentagram, and I fucking did it for you.”

“I’m just an old pal, looking for one of my little demon friends.”

“Yeah. Well, I tried to play nice because I have to sleep there, but I did lose my cool a little bit.”

[siswritesyanderes]

Will you write a second part for the Tom Riddle with mother issues one shot? I was kind of curious on how it will end up . Btw, I like your writing. <3

Thank you so much!

Part 1 is here.

Okay, round 2! This one’s a bit more graphic than the previous, so let me know if you’d rather I reel it in or if you like it this way.

(N S F W) (TW: non-con) (TW: pseudo-incest) (not actual incest)

The amount of leeway Tom allowed you for protestations on the first night did not last.

When he returned the next day, there was no dinner waiting for him, and you immediately raised your wand and told him to stay away from you.

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, as if you’d just performed poorly on a graded assignment. As soon as he reached for his wand, you tried to speak the word to disarm him, but the locket suddenly tightened around your neck, cutting off your air at the last second, and Tom’s cruciatus curse hit you square.

Pain lanced through you. You hit the kitchen floor, too tense to writhe, your eyes tightly shut, your scream filling the air.

It was only for a few seconds.

You knew that, because the locket had ensured that you were unable to take a breath before the curse, and yet your scream hadn’t run out of fuel by the time Tom let up. Panting, you opened your eyes and found that he was sitting on the floor, now. Cross-legged and straight-backed, over your sprawled form. He set his palm on your cheek and wiped at your lips with his thumb. You were embarrassed to find that they were wet; the saliva hadn’t stayed in your mouth, while you were screaming.

“I don’t like hurting you, Mother,” he said. “If you could learn to be more loving, I wouldn’t have to do this.”

Your wand was still in your hand, albeit loose in your grip. You managed to point it at him, and your mouth sluggishly formed part of a spell: “Expel-”

“Crucio.”

You screamed anew, and you felt your voice give out as incomprehensible pain filled you. Once again, it didn’t last longer than a few seconds. The first thing you felt, when the agony abated, was the cool tile under your face; you had rolled over at some point, as if some instinctive part of you had thought you were on fire and hoped to put it out. You couldn’t see Tom, but you felt it when his hand descended on your head. You winced, but he only stroked at your hair. Soothing.

“We didn’t enjoy this, did we?” he asked. “We don’t want to keep doing this.”

You could feel your wand still in your hand, but no part of your mind could form a compelling argument in favor of using it. The fact that he hadn’t taken it from you, given so many opportunities to, had been the initial writing on the wall.

“Now, I want to be a good son. But you have to be a good mother, first. Are you going to be good?” He gingerly flipped you onto your back, again. He moved your hair out of your face with his wand hand. “Will you be good for me?”

You managed to nod.

(Unnecessary suffering was for Gryffindors. You weren’t subjecting yourself to more of that kind of pain just to prove a point that Tom would never accept anyway. If defying him would ever be the right choice, it clearly wasn’t now.)

Tom smiled pridefully and kissed you- a long, lingering press of his lips against yours, just on the surface, not mining your mouth like he had last night. When he pulled back, he asked, “Who are you, then?”

Keeping him satisfied gave you some measure of control over your fate. You were smart enough to keep him at bay, if your head would just stop spinning. “I’m your mother,” you answered him. Hoarse from screaming.

Tom eased forward and sank his weight onto you, his body spread over yours so that his head was tucked under your chin and his legs and feet extended past yours, on the floor; he was taller than you. Feeling him on top of you again, and feeling the way both of his legs had slotted between yours (implicitly preventing them from closing), caused a dull panic to spread inside you- dull, because what was there to do about it?

“Mother,” he sighed contentedly, and he smiled against your collarbone for a second. Then the second passed, and the smile fell away. “I didn’t like it when you tutored the other students, at school. Why didn’t you just tutor me?”

Oh, Merlin. So it wasn’t enough to play nice now; he also wanted you to retroactively explain away past infractions. And judging by the petty plaintiveness of his tone, you would be on the hook for those infractions until you gave an explanation that he deemed adequate.

“Well, you were already brilliant, Tom. You didn’t really need a tutor, did you?”

Though his enjoyment of the compliment was palpable, it didn’t seem to quell his dissatisfaction. “All the more reason; they were wasting your time.” His fingernails sank into your arms, not giving the impression of a deliberate punishment, but rather as if he was distressed that his grip on you wasn’t strong enough.

So flattery wasn’t enough. “I was just trying to teach you to share,” you said innocently. “All children should learn to share their things.”

His reaction to this was the inverse; he seemed not to enjoy it, but it satisfied him. He relaxed. Retracted his claws. “I don’t like to share,” he said. “Mother is only for me.”

So he liked to be flattered, but he preferred to be convinced. Not a good sign, that he wouldn’t just let you owl it in with mere praise; he wanted credible mothering behavior.

Awkwardly, you reached up and rested your hand on his head. He moaned and nipped at your neck, and it made you utterly sick, but his affection was still better than his torture.

“You shouldn’t be so tense, Mother,” he murmured. “Not if you love me.”

Relaxing your body, at this point, was like physically lifting a heavy weight, but you did it.

His teeth kept gently chewing at the skin of your neck; he kissed and he sucked, and you were wondering whether it was better to just do nothing or if you should suggest that you would make dinner and see if that got him off of you. Then his hand went to your right breast, and he started kneading at it through your clothes.

“Please don’t,” you breathed.

His hand went under your shirt. He took your breast in his hand and gripped it tightly. “Why not?” he asked, in a manner that could only be described as a dignified whine. “Don’t you love me?”

“Yes, I…I love you.”

“And don’t I deserve all of you? Don’t you want to give me all of you?”

You could feel his hardness through his trousers, pressed right against the natural seam between your thigh and…and…He was deliberately grinding it against you, now: subtle, minute movements that caused your dull panic to abruptly sharpen. Even through both of your clothes, his rubbing against that part of you was like an electric shock. His hand was still molding at your breast.

“Doesn’t Mummy love me?” he whispered, almost deliriously. “Don’t you want me?”

“Y-yes,” you lied, sick and wet and fighting the ever-climbing wave of terror.

“I love you so, so much. I want every part of you. And you want every part of me, don’t you?”

Your breath hitched; his technique was not as clumsy and desperate as it had been last night. Not by half. His every move seemed perfectly calculated to make you incomprehensible. “Yes, but…we haven’t had dinner,” you managed to get out. “Y-you’re a growing boy. You need to eat, so you can…grow big and strong.”

“Mmmm.” Again, he seemed displeased but satisfied by your explanation. You were annoying him in the approved way. The way a mother annoys a son. “You didn’t have dinner ready when I got home, so I get to decide what I want to eat. That’s the rule.”

“Alright,” you answered, indifferent. He could eat at the most expensive restaurant in the land with your Galleons, if that would get him off of you.

Before you could get too relieved, you heard “Immobulus,” and a blue light washed over you. The Freezing Charm was different from a Full Body-Bind; Petrificus Totalus would have made you stiff as a board, but under Immobulus, you merely lost the ability to move. More accurately, you lost the capacity for voluntary movement, which was why you could still breathe and your heart could still beat.

Tom sat up and began systematically undressing you, and for lack of anything else to focus on, you became preoccupied with the tantalizing feeling of your wand still in your hand. He didn’t take it from you, even once you were fully nude on the kitchen floor. In fact, he took care not to let it fall out of your grip as he moved both of your hands to rest on either side of your head.

He spread your legs and lowered his face to-

Oh!

“Oh!”

Another thing about Immobulus was, by preventing voluntary movement, it made it impossible to control involuntary movement. Keeping in your reflexive vocal responses to Tom’s ministrations would have required you to have control over yourself, which you did not. You could not keep the noises inside you, or moderate the volume, and it only made the situation more pitiful and mortifying: lying on your own kitchen floor, naked, wand in hand, helpless as a would-be Dark Lord fresh out of Hogwarts ran his tongue mercilessly and expertly between your folds, and plunged it within you (wringing blinding amounts of sensation out of every motion), and you couldn’t even restrain the whimpers and shrieks and moans and sounds for which you had no name- sounds which certainly had never escaped you before in your life.

He did not stop or even pause to speak until after you had come in his mouth. Even after that, he continued lapping at you relentlessly for another few minutes. When he did raise his face again, licking his lips lewdly, you were a clammy, whimpering mess.

He watched you for a while, and you hated that you were all shiny and short of breath, but you couldn’t control your breathing any more than you could control any of it. There was no way of disguising his effect on your body.

After he had apparently had his fill of looking, Tom stood and wandered the kitchen. He was doing something (You could hear as much.), but you couldn’t move your eyes to see what.

Another minute passed.

Then, he scooped you up into his arms- still making sure your wand stayed in your hand, the smug git -and set you down across the kitchen table at which the pair of you had shared tea just yesterday. Your head fell back, and you saw what he had been doing as he wandered the room: he had been opening all the windows.

Tom dragged you so that your rear end was at the edge of the table, spread your legs and bent your knees so that each foot was almost flat against the table’s surface, and then arranged your head so that you could see him. He was still fully dressed, but he had opened his trousers and pulled them down a few centimeters, freeing his organ. He set his wand down somewhere on the table- a carelessness that came with power -and placed both of his hands on your thighs.

“I enjoyed my dinner, Mother,” he said conversationally. His voice was only slightly breathy, to betray either his earlier exertion or his present excitement. “Thank you for making it so warm and tasty for me.”

He punctuated his coy mockery by rubbing his full length along your slit, and you had to let out a loud moan, and your heartbeat raced as a new level of humiliation filled you. Was this why he had opened the windows? So others would hear?

“You should get a reward for taking such good care of me, don’t you think?” He hooked his hands around the backs of your thighs, then, to pull you closer; your pulse stuttered, at his sudden tug, fearing that he would spear you with his member right then, but he did not. “I even thought about what you said about sharing. I liked hearing how much you…enjoyed” (Another surface thrust, another helpless moan- this one embarrassingly high.) “giving me my dinner, and I want to be a good boy and share those nice sounds with everyone.”

He gave no further warning before he lanced your entrance, and as he proceeded to thrust, to withdraw and advance, you were in equal parts humiliated by your own keening, yearning wails and his revolting exclamations: “Oh, oh, you take me so well, Mother! Mummy wants me so much! Mother, I’m going to come inside you! I’m going to fill you right up with all of my babies; you want them so much!”

Your orgasm was likely audible in at least a two-house radius. Your eyes were leaking rivulets of tears, and your hair was everywhere, and your lips were wet with spit again, and still it was at least another full minute before Tom came, himself.

Every breath you took was a whimper. You managed to turn your eyes away from Tom (the effects of the spell finally wearing off), and you started when you saw a face at the window: some mustached neighbor standing outside, watching.

Tom followed your gaze, picked up his wand, and made a lazy, matter-of-fact slashing motion. You saw a red line grow across the man’s throat before he fell out of view with a sound like a bag of rocks dropping to the ground.

“I said they could listen, not look,” Tom said, as if that was the part he had to justify. He finally pulled out of you, and he fastened up his trousers. “Haven’t I been a good son today?”

It was clear that you were expected to answer him again, despite being spent. Your vision blurred with more tears. “Mm-hm,” was the best you could do, but it was apparently sufficient.

Tom left the kitchen, wet a rag, and came back to gently clean the sweat from your face. By the time he returned, you had managed to close your legs; you were curled up like a shrimp, with your arms covering your breasts. His touch was much too loving, as he ran the rag over your cheeks. “Did you like sharing?”

You shook your head stiffly.

“Then that’s something we have in common,” he said brightly. “How about this: I won’t share anymore, if you don’t. Does that sound good?”

You nodded, just as stiffly.

He lowered his mouth to yours and gave a more invasive kiss than before. “I know that you’re tired,” he said generously. “I’ll draw you a bath, and I’ll make you some tea.” He dropped a peck on the tip of your nose. “You can prove how much you love me tomorrow.”

...

(Okay! I hope this came out good. Let me know what you thought.)

[spaceorphan18]

have you ever read a detailed post about the glee cast’s singing voices? like all about their technique and stuff? reading your reaction to the ‘vocal coach reacts to glee’ video makes me want to know more!

Hmmmm, not really! Not from a professional vocalist POV, I don’t think.  (That I’m aware of.  This does remind me there was one vocal coach in fandom, and she hated Blaine, and I wasn’t too fond of her, or her analysis, so I won’t point you in that direction.) 

My background is in music, but not in vocal performance.  But I can give you a quick rundown of cast’s musical abilities if you like, though they won’t be huge on the technical side of it.  

ETA: I started this a while ago before I started doing the music retrospective - I’ll probably try to explore a little more as I do those.   If you guys want more conversation about one person in particular, let me know! 

But for now... 

*

Matthew Morrison: Is a classically trained musician with a very good voice.  It’s a shame Will was such a tool, because Matthew Morrison was very talented, had the ability to do a lot of great things with his voice.  People joke about his rapping -- but I think this stemmed from the issue that his background is in musical theater -- which teaches you a cleaner and more traditional way of singing -- opposed to a pop or rap style.  He doesn’t have the grit that rap often has, which makes it a little too much like a Kid’s Bop version of something.  When singing musical theater, though, he really shined. 

A number that showcases ability: Make ‘Um Laugh

A number that isn’t so great: Ice Ice Baby

*

Lea Michele: Lea does have a very good and solid voice.  She’s also been classically trained.  The one drawback is that it hinders her a bit on pop music, she lacks some of the grittiness often needed on a lot of the pop songs.  She also starts to lose some of her classic training as the show goes on (which I think is a shame) so that she can get some of the shine off her voice to make a transition to pop music.  

She has one vocal tick that drives me crazy, though -- she has a tendency to slide into her notes instead of hitting them dead on, which gets worse as the show goes on, and it makes her sound a little screech-y at times.  But for the most part -- she is really good. 

A number that showcases ability: Don’t Rain on My Parade

A number that isn’t so great: Ooops...I Did It Again

*

Amber Riley: The cool thing about Amber is that you get to hear her grow as a musician as the show goes on.  She had already started to get vocal lessons before the show started, but at the beginning, she was still a bit raw and unrefined in her technique.  But you can tell she did practice, and her voice is developed beautifully as the show goes on.  She was one of the best, well rounded vocalists on the show.  She had a good handle on pop and R&B music, but she could sing musical theater rather clearly, too.  She has great breath support - and can belt numbers out while still retaining the quality.  Can’t say enough good thing about Amber’s voice. 

A number that showcases ability: Someday We’ll Be Together

A number that isn’t so great: Sweet Transvestite (It’s not bad - but it’s my least favorite Mercedes solo.) 

*

Cory Monteith: Cory wasn’t a vocalist.  And, to be completely honest, I thought it was some kind of joke when they introduced him as some kind of hidden musical gem when Will hears him singing the showers.  He did really well with classic rock that’s allows not only for a weaker voice - but is often not as technically hard.  And I have to wonder if Cory got lessons, because he did get a lot better as the show went on, and I think his season 4 work is great! 

I will say that sometimes they pushed his voice a little too far.  A lot of times songs were either too high for his range and he often sounded like he was straining.  (The most notable of which is A House is Not a Home - which is far too high for him.)  That said - I think he did reasonably well along side Lea - mostly because often sang pop duets.  

A number that showcases ability: I’ve Gotta Be Me

A number that isn’t so great: Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore

*

Chris Colfer: Chris is such an interesting study due to the uniqueness of his voice.  He’s got a huge range both in terms of genre and literal range of voice.  He can sing quite a few octaves.  He’s got a great, clear sound, too, which is why he’s great with theater numbers.  Interestingly, Chris’s voice did drop over the years, and while I know people love his higher range, he has a gorgeous lower range that wasn’t used as often (and is often my favorite.) 

The one (nitpicky) issue was that Chris’s voice ended up getting pigeon-holed.  I know singing Diva-Broadway songs was his schtick - but it would have been nice to hear him sing a bigger variety of songs.  He wasn’t the strongest on non-ballad pop music, but they also didn’t give him that very often.  

There’s also the fascinating unusualness in that, Chris could really sing duets very well with people -- but in group numbers, his voice sticks out like a sore thumb, and he was often left out of some of the more general songs because of it.  His voice just doesn’t texture very well - which is why I get why they did what they did.  

A number that showcases ability: Being Alive

A number that isn’t so great: I’ll Remember

*

Kevin McHale: I feel like people are often surprised when they sit down and think about it, but Kevin has a great voice.  He has a solid range, and he’s able to do pop music very well (I believe it helps that he was in a professional boy band for years.)  Not sure if people noticed - but he’s often the lead on group numbers that don’t need to be related to specific story or character points.  Which is a bummer for Artie’s story - but if you’re a fan of Kevin’s voice, you get a lot to choose from.  

Kevin was also able to handle a lot of the musical demands that I think some of the other males weren’t? He’s a much better singer than Cory - and could handle leading a full number.  His voice isn’t as unique as Chris’s and can texture really well.  In addition he was fairly versatile.  He might have been the best rapper the show had, lol. 

A number that showcases ability: For Once In My Life

A number that isn’t so great: Addicted to Love (personal taste choice - I just don’t like the song.) 

*

Jenna Ushkowitz: Jenna is another one who is classically trained.  She has a strong, solid voice, which was unfortunately not showcased all that well on the show, and because of that, I’m not sure how she does on a wide variety of music.  I do think she sounds a little generic - but not helping is lack of being featured.  

A number that showcases ability: I Don’t Know How To Love Him

A number that isn’t so great: Gangum Style (She does fine - but the fact that they made her do it in the first place...) 

*

Dianna Agron: The interesting thing about Dianna is that she has a really nice low female voice.  The fact that they never gave her any punk or harder rock was really a shame, because I think she would have done really well with that.  The funny thing is that, more so in the beginning, they show tried to make her sing songs that fit her character - but weren’t necessarily great for her voice.  I feel like it wasn’t until late season 2 did they start really using her voice for the better.  

A number that showcases ability: Never Can Say Goodbye

A number that isn’t so great: It’s A Man’s, Man’s, Man’s World

*

Mark Salling: Mark had a really solid voice - that often lent itself well to folk and acoustic really well.  He was good with softer pop and classic rock, and the show showcased that pretty well.  I think, in general, Mark was a much better vocalist than actor, and the show often picked good music for him to sing - which helped with his character.  I don’t have a whole lot to say, only that I think he was underrated as a vocalist, but I get it - with all the other baggage that comes with talking about Mark. 

A number that showcases ability: No Surrender 

A number that isn’t so great: Fight For Your Right (to Party) (I don’t think it’s bad - I just hate this song.) 

*

Naya Rivera: Naya is a little tricky.  I think she has a good, smoky sound to her voice that makes her excellent at things like pop and R and B.  (Shame she didn’t have a good jazz number to do on the show - she would have been great at that.)  I think she was really versatile, though, and handled her Broadway numbers really well.  I do think she was somewhat pinched and nasal at times - and while I do think this was a stylistic choice, to me it’s not my favorite type of vocal sound.  But I do think she was really good at the numbers she was given, and was one of the most talented female vocalists on the show. 

A number that showcases ability: Back to Black

A number that isn’t so great: Alfie (I think I may dislike the song more than her singing on it.) 

*

Heather Morris: Heather wasn’t a singer, and I do think it showed at times.  She often had to have her voice autotuned more than anyone else on the show.  That said - she did do Britney Spears really well, and I think she deserves credit for that.  

A number that showcases ability: I’m a Slave 4 U

A number that isn’t so great: Dinosaur

*

Chord Overstreet: Chord’s background is in country - and that shows a bit through his singing - he’s got a bit of twang in his voice, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing.  He’s a fun singer.  I don’t think the show knew exactly what to do with him (voice or character) but there’s a lightness to his singing that makes him easily adaptable to pretty much anything you throw at him. 

A number that showcases ability: Red Solo Cup (You think I’m joking - but I think this is the most fun Chord has singing a song.) 

A number that isn’t so great: Girls on Film (I think just by default of me liking everything else better.) 

*

Darren Criss: Ah, Darren, where to even start.  The thing about Darren is that he may not be the strongest singer, his voice is a little wobbly at times, and his range is somewhat limited, but his showmanship is just completely beyond nearly everyone else.  Darren has the unique ability to draw you in with his singing and hold you captive.  There are technically better singers on the show - but Darren just has this amazing ability to really sell a performance.  And I do love his voice, even if there are some limitations to it.  I really could gush about Darren’s performance abilities, but I’ll refrain... 

A number that showcases ability: Teenage Dream (Both Versions) 

A number that isn’t so great: Piano Man (Which isn’t bad - I just think the show had done it better, and it’s a rare time that felt like Darren was kind of phoning it in.) 

*

A quick run down of others, but first a quick aside - as they started adding people in, vocal ability starts being a factor.  I think a lot of the newer characters could sing better than they could act, which was both helpful and a hinderance.  I think we began to get more solid musical numbers as the show went on, but sometimes acting wasn’t always top notch - and across the board, old and new, hitting a combo of acting and singing ability didn’t always happen.  

Harry Shum Jr.: Not really a singer - but the show often played to his strengths, and his few songs played off the fact that he wasn’t a great singer to great aplomb.  

Jane Lynch: Can hold a tune, even if her voice isn’t the best - is really great at musical comedy. 

Jayma Mays: She has more singing ability than the show allowed to showcase, however, she’s another one whose voice was really unique, and doesn’t texture very well.  

Damien McGinty: Is actually a very good singer.  However, he’s very generic, too - which makes him a little on the bland side. 

Sam Larsen: I think he was fine - I don’t think he sang enough on the show for me to make much of an impression one way or the other. 

Alex Newel: Fucking Fantastic! Alex might be one of the strongest vocalists on the show - has great range, energy, and vocal control.  

Melissa Benoist: Her voice tends to lean on the pop-ier side, but it’s a solid voice, and her work on the show was pretty good.  

Jacob Artist: Has a strong voice, and could sing genres that weren’t often featured on the show (like hip-hop and R&B).  

Blake Jenner: His voice is fine, but like Damien McGinty, it’s generic and a little bland. 

Becca Tobin: She has a very quirky voice that brings in a different and unique sound.  They didn’t use her much, though, so it’s hard to comment. 

Noah Guthrie: An amazing singer, has a really unique sound, but is able to do blend in well with others.  

Samantha Ware: Another amazing singer.  She’s in full control and can do really great things with it. 

Billy Lewis Jr: Has a good, solid voice.  Not as strong as Guthrie, or some of the other guys, but he’s a lot of fun to watch. 

Laura Dreyfuss: Like Becca Tobin - has a uniqueness to her vocal quality that makes it stand out a little, but she’s still a solid singer. 

Marshall Williams: His vocal ability is okay.  It’s better than his acting ability.  I’m slightly confused how this dude got cast, tbh.  

[beelovesnct]

𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐨'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐜𝐭 𝟏𝟐𝟕

**note: bold - english, regular - korean

MOON TAEIL

Her relationship with Aiko is like Aiko with Jisung

He greatly cares about her, but would show it in very subtle ways; his care is less of an "In your face" and more of an "I'm always here"

Doesn't usually act like an older brother in front of Aiko; he's simply more like the older friend that Aiko has. Therefore, he's not particularly protective nor strict when it comes to the female member like most of the NCT members are (especially Taeyong, Yuta, and the rest of the dreamies no matter how much they tried to deny it).

But when the time comes for it, Taeil would be firm and strict just like a legitimate older brother.

He knows his boundaries and respects that Aiko is a grown-up, but will never hesitate to listen to and provide a shoulder whenever she needs it.

Not the first person Aiko goes to for problems but appreciates the sentiment nonetheless.

Usually comes to Taeil for vocal advice (second to Haechan), because she genuinely thinks his voice and vocal techniques is one of the best in NCT.

Also teaches him some Gen Z or internet slang sometimes (when she's in a more social mood)

Moderate skinship: Aiko thinks that Taeil's hugs are the best in NCT!! Whenever the two groups are together, she would always find the time to cling unto Taeil and "recharge". His tendency not to smother her with attention is also the reason why Aiko is particularly fond of his presence.

"'Bop' is when something is a great song" "'Bab'? Like rice?" "'Bab' is rice, 'bop' is a great song" "Teach me something else, that's too hard."

SUH JOHNNY

Her little splash of extroversion is fully fleshed out whenever she's with Johnny.

Legitimately in all smiles whenever she interacts with the 6-footer; she just finds him so hilarious that she can't help but laugh out loud (most members still find this bit shocking, not used to the girl being loud).

Much like Mark, they also mostly converse in English and even call each other by their first names; hence, most types of formalities are waived (Aiko still mostly calls Johnny, "oppa").

Invites Aiko to JCC way too many times. He finds her contrasting character of being both savage and quiet utterly amusing, so he thought his content would be tenfold better whenever the girl was present.

Treats her just like he treats Haechan; would even argue that she's his favorite dongsaeng at par with both Haechan and Mark.

He KNOWS and LOVES that he's probably the only one who brings out the social side of Aiko, so he takes that responsibility very seriously. He always makes sure that the environment is comfortable for Aiko whenever they are together—whether that would be in shootings or events. He does this by cracking jokes and pointing out flaws that would inevitably bring laughter to those who listened.

Also takes the role of introducing Aiko to people she might not know, this includes idol friends or even staff members that are also too shy and too intimidated to approach the quiet member.

Rare skin ships: Neither Johnny nor Aiko are really that fond of physical affection, so their interactions are mostly narrowed to head and shoulder pats, sometimes even the arm around the shoulder.

"HAHAHAHA" "What, I didn't even say anything." "Doesn't matter"

LEE TAEYONG

One of the very few members that Aiko actually, and willingly listens to.

She simply respects him so much in both aspects of rap and leadership as a whole. (Went to Taeyong when she wanted advice for her rapping skills when she entered Unpretty Rapstar 3).

One of the members she goes to whenever she needs advice, or whenever things simply got too overwhelming. When this happens, Taeyong usually invites her to the dorms, which is often whenever 127 has a sleepover or a simple celebration (much to Haechan's and Mark's delight).

Very soft around each other!! Taeyong definitely treats her like a little sister; he brings her souvenirs whenever he travels with 127 or SuperM. He also delivers her snacks in their dorms, and even takes her out on platonic dates!!

Similarly, Aiko always has Taeyong in her mind—always mentioning him on lives whenever he was doing promotions, or buying items that remind her of him during reality shows.

Only willingly acts like an actual little sister in front of Taeyong (willingly does aegyo too, much to the other member's surprise)

If Aiko had a favorite oppa, it would definitely be Taeyong (She never openly admitted to this though it was implied enough).

Has moderate skin ships: They don't usually see each other often, being in different units and all, but when they do, they often act like siblings, so head pats and side hugs are the norm.

"━In this part, you have to emphasize the "uh" more, since that part requires more impact." "Aiko, let's get some food after your practice, text me!"

NAKAMOTO YUTA

Yuta has adopted Aiko as he did with Winwin and Shotaro.

He was ecstatic when he heard that Aiko was half-Japanese, and so he took it upon himself to befriend and get close with the only female member, despite her usually cold exterior. Now, they only ever converse in Japanese (which Aiko is actually grateful for as her Japanese is continuously being practiced).

Acts like a tough big brother; very protective of Aiko.

Not the first person Aiko would go to when she has problems, but definitely the first one out of dream (usually Jaemin) who would notice. When he does, he's ready to fight whoever is the major cause of the problem. (Speaks out for Aiko whenever he feels as if the member couldn't speak for herself━which is a rarity in its case already).

Since they are both from Osaka, he would usually share the care package that he gets from home often; whether it would be snacks, some toys that were interesting, face masks and etc.

Would definitely have anime night sometimes!!

Adores that Aiko is very quiet, and much like Haechan, he goes out of his way to either invite Aiko to the dorms or visit her directly whenever he feels the need to calm down.

Consistent skin ships: Much like the other 127 members, they usually don't get to see each other often, but when they do, Yuta is almost always seen hovering around the member, hugging her tight in his arms, playing with her hair, or pinching her cheeks.

"Aiko! Let's watch a movie together, there's this recent release from Studio Ghibli, and it's supposed to be good." "Aiko! Okaasan sent these snacks last week, I brought some for you."

KIM DOYOUNG

Doyoung is actually lowkey afraid of Aiko.

He has heard stories from both Haechan and Mark, and now believes that Aiko is a savage regardless of what Taeyong tells him otherwise (he already gets much teasing from their maknae, he couldn't imagine getting more from what he thinks is another, more savage version of Haechan).

He respects Aiko very much though! He thought she was exceptional in Unpretty Rapstar 3, but the show is all the more reason why he's so intimidated by her presence.

This opted the duo to very awkward with each other (more Doyoung than Aiko). They would usually seat far away from each other whenever the two teams meet, and would never interact even as the particular event ends.

For Aiko, she kind of thought Doyoung didn't like her, so she stayed away from him in order to avoid making him uncomfortable (of course Taeyong and Yuta denied this when Aiko asked about the matter, assuring her that Doyoung was only being shy); it didn't help that she was very quiet too, so the two never had any chances to approach each other.

This all changed though when they were featured in ASWAZ EP. 6; and Doyoung learned that as much as Aiko was a savage, she was also a very lovable person (her quietness a part of her charm).

Contacts her a lot now!! Doyoung also becomes one of the few members that Aiko confides in, finding his mindset very well-grounded, and by extension, his advice very reliable. (Talks to each other in soft voices!!)

Moderate skin ships: After their awkward phase, Doyoung couldn't get enough of the Neko member, so he is often caught back hugging Aiko or pinching her cheeks in the moments that they have schedules together (they had a lot of interactions in NCT World 2.0!!)

"I honestly thought you were like Haechan, I was so scared you'd tease me to death," "Who said I wouldn't?" "..." "..." "Aiko, please don't."

JUNG JAEHYUN

Jaehyun annoys the heck out of Aiko; not in a Haechan or Chenle way of teasing, but Jaehyun is like that little brother who won't stop bothering you until you play with him.

Literally asks Aiko to do various stuff with him whenever the two meet up—whether that would be trying out new food, a new hobby, or basically, anything that Jaehyun finds interesting.

They might not have many commonalities together, but Jaehyun loves her presence regardless!! She's the serenity in his chaos (in the most literal way possible). The contrast in their dynamic is one he appreciates deeply (Aiko's different perspective/s enlighten him greatly—especially when it concerns food!).

Usually (and expectedly) Aiko would reject Jaehyun's invitations, but there are some moments that the girl gives in, but that commonly results in instant regret.

Aiko is lowkey grateful for Jaehyun though, as he, in some way, extends that comfort zone she barely goes out of.

Whenever they're together, Aiko would always scold the older member with his uncontrolled strength; while she finds it hilarious every time the camera shakes whenever Jaehyun's hands touch the table, she knows it's probably a hassle for the fans so she tells him to "get it together".

It's well known that Aiko hates messes and is a bit of a clean freak, so Jaehyun gets a bit of a (quiet) earful whenever the set (or their own kitchen) becomes too dirty.

Consistent skin ship: His strength and puppy-like personality results in him almost always piggy-backing Aiko (despite her protests) and would carry her like a bag while goofing off in the practice room (a lot of piggybacks were conducted throughout the whole resonance era). Also believes that Aiko has one of the best hugs in NCT, so he revels in her comforting embrace.

Basically a puppy and a cat!!

"Aiko! Aiko! My dongsaeng! I found a new restaurant by the intersection, they serve really good seafood pasta! We have to go there." "Aikooooo! I found a new recipe for chocolate pizza, tell me we can cook it together!"

KIM JUNGWOO

If Jaehyun is more a subdued chaos that Aiko can handle, then Jungwoo is that chaotic chaos that Aiko doesn't even want to get near to (doesn't mean that she never does though!).

Unlike Jaehyun however, Jungwoo doesn't annoy Aiko with his chaotic nature, rather, like Johnny, he makes her double over in laughter because of it (something he takes great pride in).

Aiko definitely thinks Jungwoo is an interesting fellow (like a more lawless version of Jaemin), but definitely thinks that she needs her social battery in its fullest before she even interacts with Jungwoo.

Jungwoo teaches Aiko the art of aegyo; Aiko doesn't actually know it's aegyo because of how subtle it is, so the other members get a mini-heart attack whenever Aiko executes what Jungwoo taught her.

Moderate skin ships: Aiko and Jungwoo are not the closest in NCT, but they do get along very well. While Jungwoo is a very physical person, he still respects Aiko's boundaries and thinks that she probably gets drained by others' smothering already, so he usually just narrows his affection to affectionate poking and head pats. (Unless Aiko initiates first, then he's all for it).

"I can copy most of the members' laugh" "Okay, can you copy mine?" "ʰᵉʰᵉʰᵉ" "Wow that's pretty accurate."

**haechan and mark are in nct dream, and winwin will be in wayv :>

[maplecornia]

chapter 33

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 1.86K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear | @mangminnie | @pixiekooo | @cana

"Everyone welcome Lin Yen. She will be your trainee from this day forward."

It's happened.

You're finally a trainee.

Your dream is finally coming true.

So why do you feel uneasy?

Looking up at Jungkook who walks just a few paces ahead of you for the millionth time, you swallow hard.

How did this happen?

.

.

.

"Well I've already said it once, I have too much on my plate to make time for her."

When BangPD said he was taking you to a meeting discussing your training, you didn't expect to find the rest of BTS there. Nor did you expect Yoongi to be glaring at you the entire time.

Avoiding his clear distrust, you tighten your jaw. You thought yesterday he and you had come to a mutual understanding, and at least respected the other...

Glancing his way you try hard not to shiver at the bone-chilling stare he sends your way.

Clearly, it seems nothing has changed.

Jin, noticing the exchange, rolls his eyes and nudges your arm. You turn to where he sits beside you and he gives you an encouraging smile. "Ignore him, Yen. He still hasn't gotten used to you here."

Well, that much is obvious.

But you do appreciate the way Jin is trying to look after you so you return the smile with a small one of your own. Glancing back towards Suga you try not to sigh.

Actually, you don't think he necessarily has a problem with you as a person, there seems to be more that's going on with him. Things that don't include you, but are targeted towards you. Almost as though he were dishing his frustrations out on you.

"If we look at this objectively, Suga, Jhope, and I would probably have the least time out of the rest of you to train her." Namjoon pipes up, his fingers tapping impatiently on the table. No doubt he has things to be doing as well but is too polite to voice his frustration at being kept from his work.

You glance towards him quite sympathetically. When you got here this morning, he was still working at his studio, multiple coffee cups and empty plates of food and snacks scattered around. You wish you could help him in some way, but the best help you probably could do is give him some space.

"Couldn't she pick up producing skills as your assistant?" Jungkook questions and Namjoon almost sighs as he massages his temple.

"It's not that simple..."

"And it's not as important."

At BangPD's interjection, the rest of the room turns towards him.

"Yen is training as a vocalist. She won't need to learn rapping skills, nor focus too much on producing at the moment. The only things she needs to worry about are singing and learning simple dance techniques."

You nod, opening your mouth to try and agree, but Yoongi cuts you off.

"Perfect. Then you won't need me."

As he pushes back his chair, standing to leave, you feel that you should be the one angry. Honestly, did you ask for his help? You've done nothing towards him for him to be treating you this way. Plus it's not okay for someone to just dish their frustration out on you. Even if you are the easiest target.

Don't be involved at all, see if I care.

However, before Yoongi can exit, Namjoon's stern voice holds him back.

"Enough Yoongi. I know you do not agree with this decision, but it has been made. This concerns all of us." Suga turns to him, opening his mouth as though to tell him off, but Namjoon raises his eyebrow.

"Unless you are no longer a part of BTS?"

At the rising tension in the room, you almost shrink into your chair. You almost think Yoongi will destroy RM with the voracious glare he wears on his face, but after a moment of silence, he walks back to his chair and sits down.

An uncomfortable silence ensues, and you can't help but feel as though you were an unwanted third party. How that is possible at a meeting discussing you, is as confusing to you and it is to anyone else.

"I wouldn't mind being her mentor."

Flinching in surprise, you turn to the person who spoke up beside you.

Jungkook.

"Jungkook, are you sure?" Hoseok asks him, and Jungkook turns to him with a smile and sparkling eyes. He seems to be filled to the brim with excitement, as though he could run laps around the building five times without breaking a sweat.

"Of course, I'm not the main vocalist for nothing. Plus, I'm center, so I'm fairly experienced in dancing and other positions." When he glances your way, you blink in surprise, blushing at the fact that he caught you staring.

"Actually, I was kind of hoping I could be her mentor." Confused and slightly touched at his behavior, you try hard to suppress the heat rising to your cheeks. He smiles before looking away from you and towards the rest of the table.

"After all, I'm the one who fought for her to become a trainee, it's only fitting. Isn't it?"

.

.

.

In the end, it was decided that Jhope and Jimin would be your dance mentors, Taehyung, Jin, and Jungkook would help with vocals, and when they could, Suga and Namjoon would teach you as much as they could about production. All of them would advise you on publicity and BangPD will help you closely when it came to details about your training and possible debut.

But Jungkook would be your main mentor.

Glancing his way, you wonder where he's taking you. After the meeting, he requested you follow him, and you thought he just needed to talk to you for a moment. You didn't think he would take you halfway around the building without so much of an explanation. You furrow your brow, pondering the multiple different things that have happened already, and it's only 9 am.

You could go for some caffeine right about now.

"...Yen?"

"Hm?" Dazedly, you nod your head his way, your mind not completely there with him at the moment. Jungkook smiles, almost affectionately.

"You didn't hear anything I just said, did you?"

Balking, you feel it as your cheeks flush in embarrassment and you chuckle nervously, avoiding his gaze.

"Uhm, no. I didn't. I'm sorry." You mutter and at your expression, he can't help as his grin grows wider. He finds within him a sudden urge to squeeze your face, and then immediately chastises the idea.

Boundaries, Jungkook.

"Jungkook?" you ask, breaking into his thoughts and he tries to ignore the way his heart bursts when you say his name.

"Yes?"

"What did you mean back there?"

"About what?"

Hesitating, you wonder if you should complete your question. But, seeing his curious wide eyes, you know you can't take it back now.

"When you said you fought for me to be a trainee."

"Oh, that." Clearing his throat, Jungkook avoids your eyes and he stumbles for the words to your question.

Taehyung told him not to say anything, but that doesn't mean that Jungkook can't tell Yen he was there.

"I'm the one who gave your recording to BangPD."

At the explanation, you look towards him with wide eyes, your heart pounding hard in your chest.

"So does that mean..." he smiles, probably guessing your next words and you find yourself dumbfounded.

He's the reason you're even a trainee.

He was there that day, he heard you sing.

Blushing you slap your hands on your cheeks, trying to hide the red that blossoms at the revelation. He chuckles at the attempt, which only worsens the embarrassment.

"How...?" you wonder, half under your breath.

"I was walking by the studio and heard your voice." When it's clear you still don't understand, he leans down, so that he's eye level with you only needing to whisper for you to hear him. "You had left the door open."

"Oh."

At your meek and small voice, he can't help but laugh as he pulls away to open a studio door and enter. Still trying to piece together the situation, you follow him, but stop when you recognize your surroundings.

"Is this..."

Turning to you from where he stands next to the chair amid the room, he smiles.

"So you figured it out." Stunned, you watch him as he takes in the room as though it were the birthplace of something amazing, something beautiful and sacred.

In a way it is.

It's the place he discovered you.

"This is where I first heard your voice."

You're afraid to move, afraid to speak.

When will there come a time where you believe all of this is real? More than a dream? When you look at Jungkook, his smile, that strange look in his eyes...You feel as though it's okay after all to trust that it's real after all.

That he's real.

"This is the birthplace of your dream."

You can't help but snort, and he looks towards you. You know he's trying to be sentimental, but...

"A little dramatic don't you think?"

He smirks at your comment, before turning back to the room.

"Is it? I find it fitting. Almost as though we've come full circle." As he raises those doe eyes back to you, you can feel your heart skip a beat. "I mean, who would've thought the same girl who spilled coffee all over me would change my life with her voice?"

Though it's a sweet sentence, you can feel the shameful embarrassment rising in the back of your throat as you shove his shoulder. He laughs at your reaction, holding up his hands in surrender.

"I was hoping you wouldn't remember." You nearly pout, turning your face away from him and crossing your arms in indignation in a childish way to punish him for teasing you. He chuckles at the attempt, but soon finds his laughter dying out as he stares at you.

Taking you in as though you were the most precious thing on Earth.

Maybe you are in his eyes.

His eyes soften and his lips part almost indistinctively as he reaches out to take your chin in his own hands. Slowly, he angles it towards him so that your face is mere inches apart from his, close enough that if he wanted to, he could place his lips on yours without even trying that hard.

Eyes wide, you stare into his as he smiles that same strange smile.

Maybe it's not that you don't know what it is, maybe it's that you don't want to try and figure it out. What lies in his eyes is something you'd rather keep hidden.

Right now, that's the only way for you to be okay.

Nevertheless, you don't want to push him away.

His eyes lidding as he brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear, he whispers in your ear once more. The delicate lure to it, the deadly husk, and almost indistinct heat almost makes you shiver, and you can feel yourself tense as though preparing for something that will never come.

"How could I forget?"

note: oh, so many jungkookie moments sajdlkfsjfk, dw though we will get more of the other members soon! i know i do a lot of the maknae line, but the hyung line is coming soon (more specifically we'll see some more jhope and jin, since we don't really see them now ;-;)

chapter 34 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

[tenthgrove]

hi! could i request some platonic la squadra with a team member who's autistic and mainly stims by repeating short phrases (echolalia but idk how to phrase it) and has/had a hard time unmasking around them? feel free to take as many liberties as you need to, your writing is so fun to read! <33

La Squadra Says Autism Rights

La Squadra x Reader (GN), Platonic, SFW

(A/N: I just wanted to say a particular thank you to this requester because I've been itching to write autistic reader headcanons for months and this finally gave me the right prompt to do it. I definitely want to write more in the future.)

Formaggio- He might be neurotypical, but autism runs in his family (and his social circle as an adult) so he's learned a fair bit how best to interact with you people. He knows his loudness and teasing can be an issue for autistic people with sensory issues or trouble with sarcasm, so he'll drop it around you if that's the case. As far as he's concerned your vocal stim is a non-issue because 'some people just do that, it doesn't hurt anyone' and he doesn't comment on it unless you're using it to show happiness, in which case he always acts chuffed. He behaves sympathetically to your troubles with masking, and makes a point of acting laid-back so it's easy for you to turn down the pressure on yourself. To Formaggio, not being able to be yourself would be one of the worst fates imaginable, so he wants to do what he can to make it easier for you to let loose.

Illuso- You might expect Illuso's understanding to be low, but at this point with so much of the team being neurodivergent themselves Illuso doesn't bat an eyelid. Repeating short phrases is certainly a new one, but nothing he can't put up with. Sometimes, he might ask you what your murmurings mean, but he doesn't mean it in a judgy way. Now, as for your masking, you would be surprised how much he can relate. Illuso's self esteem is secretly down the gutter, and he often feels like the confident persona he puts on is secretly an act. When you tell him you feel like you're putting a show every day of your life, he feels you. The two of you have a lot of heartfelt conversations when you're alone, confessing how you really feel about yourselves away from the act you're performing. It's not something Illuso does often, be this honest even with a friend. But he can't help but find that it's... therapeutic.

Prosciutto- Like with anything a friend of his may be insecure about, Prosciutto very much looks at autism through the lens of identifying positives. This by no means says that he ignores your difficulties or tries to creative positives that aren't there, only that he takes note of your strengths no matter how much you try to deny them and makes sure you remember you have them. He doesn't try to 'fix' your echolalia because he knows it's better to work with an autistic person's traits than erase them, but he does teach you mental diversion techniques to help you tone the stim down when you need to (e.g. when you're trying to be stealthy). Regarding your masking, he can somewhat admire it as a useful skill to have- it's possible you could turn it into the skills of an excellent actor while under cover, but he also appreciates the impact this must be having on your self-esteem to have to hide yourself 24/7, so he wants to help you learn to cut it down. This, of course, is done through plenty of praise and reminding of your strengths. You are a wonderful addition to the team, even without your mask, and he won't let you think any less.

Pesci- When Pesci gets stressed it affects him a lot too. Sometimes he does things like fiddle with random items in his hands until they break or bounce his leg so hard the table shakes, which always get him strange looks. He appreciates the rationale of your stimming and would never judge you for it. If you're in a situation where you absolutely need to stop stimming, for instance if a team is visiting who isn't on good terms with La Squadra, he is a good bet for subtly and respectfully helping you be aware of when you're starting to do it so you can quickly stop. Just a gentle nudge to your arm when you start to whisper is all it takes. He also has a lot of empathy for the fact you has to mask, since he imagines it to be like a more extreme version of how he had to invent this whole 'tough guy' personality after he got involved in the gang. He found that really hard too, so he can imagine what it must be life to do that sort of thing your whole life. At least with him, you feel less of a pressure to put on an act.

Melone- There's a certain intellectual curiosity in Melone towards the various neurodivergent conditions, compounded by a strong personal empathy now he has so many friends who have them. He is saddened by the failure of the common consensus to understand such individuals, and wants to do what he can to help them appreciate their full, unique potentials. Melone is quick to recognise your behaviour as stimming, and hence understands that the stress of being called out on it would only make it worse. He is sympathetic to your plight with masking, and has a few ideas you could try if you want to start reducing it in safe circumstances. He has heard that one barrier to unmasking can be trouble identifying the 'true self' you have to go back to, so to remedy this he asks non-critical questions that help you explore your real, unmasked personality and be comfortable in it. Whenever you go off-script and talk to him as your true-self, he praises you for it and assures you that you are just as wonderful a person to him like this.

Ghiaccio- We arrive at the first member on the list who (in my headcanon) is autistic himself. Although the mangling of verbal speech is typically annoying to him, Ghiaccio would never become angry at someone who did it because of their neurodivergence. After all, if he didn't respect the effects of your autism, what reason do you have to return the favour? Ghiaccio makes a point of not hurrying you along when you start to repeat yourself as a stimming technique, and it goes a long way with helping you be calm around him. The masking however, is a different matter. He's not going to be angry at you per say, since he knows from experience the pressure you must be facing to put on an act this way, but he very much prefers it when people are their authentic selves around him. After all, he has enough issues knowing their true intentions as it is. He won't get angry, but he will gently encourage you to open up about him, even if it's something as little as stating what you really want point-blank when you're nervous too. He is very understanding about how hard this is, however.

Risotto- Another autistic individual himself, Risotto is also perfectly empathetic to your behaviour. As an adult, he doesn't really stim, rather just faze out entirely, but at the end of the day that still gets him a lot of strange looks so he can appreciate the range of feelings you may have about your own stim. What's really great about Risotto is that he learns pretty quickly how to differentiate between your happy-stims and your stress-stims, to an extent nobody else on the team is able to. He always seems very content to see you happy-stim, warmed by the knowledge that you are feeling good right now. As for your stress-stims, he is quick to help you escape from the situation if at all possible, and hold your hand comfortingly if not. And the whole masking thing? He understands painfully well. Risotto's masking game on-point, but it irks him greatly to keep it up, not to mention that he hates the paralysing anxiety that hits him whenever he tries to unmask. Even when he wants to, he can't always be himself in front of the team. He may not have a solution for you, but he at least has his full empathy.

Sorbet and Gelato- While Sorbet is, as far as he's aware, neurotypical, Gelato is very much autistic as well. He's also got ADHD to boot, so he's well versed in the neurodivergent experience. His stim is quite similar to yours, in that he makes quiet, high-pitched, almost chirp-like noises, so he sees your echolalia as something he has in common with you. Gelato doesn't really bother with masking any more, the only exception being people who could quite literally kill him if he offended them. Though he encourages you to let go and be yourself, consequences be damned, he of course completely understands the pressure to keep masking. Sorbet, despite being neurotypical, is at this point more surrounded by autistics than not. He's been married to Gelato for the best part of the decade, his closest friend is Risotto, and he's practically Ghiaccio's dad at this point. Adding one more neurodivergent to the mix is hardly a big step, and he is very well-versed in your behaviours and how to interact with them.

[rukanrin]

how about a fluffy headcanon about the dmc boys and girls with a deaf/mute s/o 😭💖

Im so sorry about the delay again;-;

I spent some time making mind maps for this because i did attempt to write it but my sister was like 'oh hell naw', none the less enjoy! -The lazy daisy,Ruka

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

Dante

-Dante would never make fun of your disability,and if someone else makes fun of it? pray that they know what kind of coffin they want to be buried in

-Hes still a huge cuddle bean,he will either sign (sign language) or tap (morse code) to ask for permission,or if you're not deaf then this man will literally scream morse code patterns

-Will call you his 'silent/oblivious beauty'

- Probably begged Vergil and Trish to teach him how to use either techniques to communicate with you

-If Morrison or lady scold him,he will either start clicking his pen or signing under his table lots of rude or childish nicknames that you can see

-He usually comes home late,so he managed to catch Nico and ask her to make bracelets to let you know when the other is near or home,so that he doesn't accidentally scare you

Vergil

-Poet in blue will buy at least three books to learn techniques to speak with you

-he's very sweet and gentle with you,even going as far as occasionally embracing you and gently swaying side to side with you

-he will never make jokes or nicknames based off your disability,but he may make you smile like and idiot if he's just got back with an arguement from Nero or Dante, telling you stuff like 'that fool,right there,is why the Sparda bloodline looks redicilous'

-he will never rush or stop you from telling him something, always waiting patiently for you to finish,even he sometimes pauses for a second,trying to remember how to say something,which puts a cute grumpy expression on his face

-he wont really depend on technology to help you not get spooked,he will try his best to gently step into your line of sight before doing anything,but you should get used to him appearing out of the blue (I'm not apologising for that joke,nope)

-will leave you little snippets of poems about how lovely silence can be to reassure you he is ok with you being the way that you are

Nero

-one of the most playful boys with this issue

-dun dun dun!he gets a morse code arm from the artist

-he doesn't mind that he cant carry out a full conversation vocally with you,the more challenges with the relationship the more he loves you

-if you get into a compliment fight or you want to say something like 'i don't deserve this/you' he will gently and playfully hold your hand with a smile, probably followed by a little kiss on the nose or forehead

-If he comes home late and doesn't want to startle you,he will install one of those LED chandeliers,which he will keep the remote to,and turn on the light blue lights to show that hes home

V

-He finds it fascinating, in fact this engulfs him in the world of how to communicate with others,he will buy a shit ton of books to learn from

-he once beat the ever living shit out of griffon for making fun of you on a mission

-he will read poems describing silence and how enjoyable it is,or if you're deaf,like Vergil,will leave you notes with bits of the poems on them

-will make one of his two main familiars appear to show you that he's there,most likely shadow because griffon will take any chance to scare the living essence out of you

-he will never stop you from speaking,but once he did it on accident while cuddling,turning a light shade of red from embarrassment as he allowed you to 'speak' again

Trish

-oh boy,she would buy one of those devices that can function as a live subtitles generator,as well as listen to morse code and decode it,so if you ever see lady or Trish looking a little sassy,turn the device on for a packet of laughter

-she wont let you go on missions because if you get hurt she will blame herself for not staying close,since you cant really call for help,so she wont risk it

-she will most likely communicate using notes at the start,since it would take her a while to learn any other way to communicate,but don't worry,she's really trying to learn it off by heart

-if anyone looks at you and starts to speak with a frown on their face,they are getting a thunderbolt in the stomach from your own wonder woman

Lady

-shes a very gentle girl

-will probably tell you gossips or secrets using any method possible,sometimes having to sprint for her life if one of the Sparda descendants sees or hears her doing so

-she would buy a little glow thingy if you communicate by Morse code

-poor girl spent hours each night learning morse and sign ,so much that you once found her snoozing on a desk with a multiple page word document all with morse code words/sentences

Nico

-the most chill girl about it

-will build a recorder to translate stuff for you,kind of like what Trish has,but with a keyboard option too which can speak out loud

-she can also use wingdings if you like it (i personally love it)

-complain about her driving and she will dramatically fall to the ground and give you puppy dog eyes

[lady-byleth]

Ok, ok, ok, so I read your post about how the Big Twist of Volo actually being totally bonkers was unforeshadowed, and I agree for the grand majority of this statement.

I mean, he has not one, not two, but THREE Pokemon that can only evolve through friendship, and two of them are ones that can sense auras and should know if Volo is evil, which I don't believe he is - he made some mistakes (and yes, those mistakes are pretty BIG ones...), but maybe he always felt some resentment towards Arceus for the suffering he endured, and Giratina, being an eldritch abomination who ALSO held some resentment for Arceus, ended up amplifying those feelings to a dangerous degree.

People say that the backstrike technique he teaches you was supposed to count as foreshadowing, and I guess I can see it, maybe? But... I'm just not seeing the grandness in the twist like everybody else is.

I swear I'm not saying all this because he's pretty. I'm just having a difficult time processing that his entire personality, his interactions with the protagonist up to that point were all a horrible lie. I feel like there's some good in him and he deserves a chance at redemption, you know?

Right?! Half his team evolves with friendship and you'd have to be able to keep this act up UNINTERRUPTED for weeks on end and I don't believe there's anyone who could do that. Plus, why go out of his way to have a cute little photo taken with his Togepi if he didn't love the little thing? No one would've questioned if he didn't do it, that something he did for himself.

And the backstrike technique...I guess that could count but we use it too and we get rewards for using it. If it was like...something he mentioned and then the game punished you for using underhand tactics, then I could totally see it as foreshadowing.

Also, the biggest thing I don't get is, why in God's name does he help CLOSE THE SPACE TIME RIFT if he's trying to use it to drag out Arceus?

I mean, when you get banished he goes out of his way to find you, brings you to Cogita and then tags along with you and Adaman/Irida to find the Red Chain. Why would he do that? What's the rationale behind this?

There's also the thing after you catch Giratina where the Prof informs you that Volo came to him, explained Giratina decided to watch over the region cuz you whooped its ass and then he just calmly left. Considering he was very vocal about his hatred for you after his loss, why would he go out of his way to inform you of this?

Plus, he and Giratina weren't even close to each other when it decided this cuz it must've happened after you beat it again, why else would it try to kill you a second time? This makes ME believe they really were connected on a mental level, the way Dialga and Palkia are with Adaman and Irida and after you catch it that bond was severed. He seems to revert back to his calm personality immediately after and even says he wants the pokedex to be finished

And to top it all off, something that would've been a really big oversight if unintentional, Akari and Rei don't seem to bear him any ill will. When he's mentioned their faces are either sad or neutral and we know that there is an angry expression they could've used. But they don't seem to be angry at him, despite the fact that he TRIED TO KILL THEM AND DESTROY REALITY. Not to mention that you can fucking DRESS LIKE HIM after you beat Arceus. Why would you willingly dress like someone who tried to kill you unless you still care about them a great deal?

Anyway, there's a lot more pointing to this being Giratina's doing and a lot of nothing that indicated this is really all just Volo being a dick. I mean, Giratina probably amplified his emotions to the point of villainy cuz he says he had some resentment before meeting it, but it wasn't all him. He's definitely not above redemption and honestly, given he left a message instead of telling you himself, he's probably feeling pretty guilty about the whole thing too

Anyway, this got long cuz I'm still mad about it xD thanks for the message, I'm glad someone sees things the way I do!

[scapegrace74-blog]

Ginger Snap, Chapter 4

A/N  Here’s the next chapter installment of Ginger Snap.  I now have this story mentally plotted to its conclusion.  It will have a total of 6 chapters, with perhaps a wee epilogue.  In keeping with the theme, the title of this chapter is “Where There’s Smoke”.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my AO3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

I glanced around the sitting room, trying to see it through a stranger’s eyes.  Well, not a stranger.  Through Jamie’s eyes.

We had sold most of our furniture before leaving Boston, not considering it worth the expense of shipping across the Atlantic.  Frank hired an interior decorating firm to furnish the third floor Southside flat before we arrived.  The overall impression was stylish, if a bit soulless.  Having grown up a virtual nomad, there were no mementos or heirlooms to speak for my personal journey.  For the first time, I regretted their absence.

The buzzer rang, and I shook away my wistfulness.  Jamie’s tousled curls and reckless grin greeted me as I opened the door.  Today he wore a fitted navy jumper, faded grey jeans with frays about the ankles and the ubiquitous work boots.  A messenger bag was slung across his broad chest.  

“I hope I wasn’t supposed to supply the ingredients for today’s lesson, because my cupboards are bare,” I remarked after inviting him in.

“Jus’ as well.  I wouldna squander yer food.  I have all we need right here.”  Reaching into his bag, he removed a clear container filled with chunks of pink meat swimming in a broth of blood.  I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

“What sort of dish will I be making with those?”

Those summer eyes shone in merry provocation.

“No’ a dish, Arsonist.  An experiment.”  

Two saucepans were set on the stove.  Jamie had me place a few pieces of meat into the water of one pot before it warmed.  To the other I added a pinch of salt and a clove of garlic, but waited until it came to a boil before adding the chicken.  After five minutes, I used tongs to move the now-pale flesh to waiting salad plates.  Neither looked particularly appetizing, but the first pot yielded a glutinous blob.

“I suppose this is the control group,” I remarked, looking at Jamie where he leaned against my countertop, ankles crossed like a cover model.  “I’m already quite familiar with what culinary failure looks like, thank you.”

“No’ failure.  Variability,” my teacher argued.  “See here?  If ye want meat tae dissolve til it doesna hold its texture, low heat is key.  An’ if ye want tae infuse it with flavour, always combine heat an’ seasoning at the same time.”

I took a small nibble of chicken from the second pot, and sure enough it tasted mildly of garlic.  It was otherwise quite bland, though.  When I commented on this, Jamie nodded in excitement.

“Aye, verra good.  Nature seeks equilibrium, as ye well know.  Sae now ye have poultry tha’ tastes o’ water and water tha’ tastes o’ chicken.  If ye were makin’ a stew or chicken stock, t’would be a good thing.  Fer anything else, tis shite.”

I laughed, getting into the spirit of his well-executed game.

“Have ye any music?” he asked while we cleared away the results of round one.  “I always cook better with a bit o’ background noise.”

There was a high-end stereo system in the living room, but I doubted Jamie would be interested in Frank’s collection of Brahms, Mahler and Celtic harp.  Seeing my hesitation, Jamie dug out a portable speaker from his bag.

“Do ye mind?”  I shook my head and soon my kitchen hummed with guitar chords and plangent vocals.

The lesson lasted far longer than the scheduled hour.  Jamie had me bake, fry, roast and braise different samples, each time explaining why a particular technique might be used and insisting I taste the result.  It was so much fun, I shed my habitual reticence while cooking.

“An’ now fer the pièce de résistance,” Jamie announced in dramatic tones.  From his seemingly bottomless messenger bag he removed what appeared to be a miniature flame thrower.

“What the fuck is that?” I asked, forgetting myself.

“I wanted ye tae ken there’s a place fer fire in the kitchen, Arsonist.  Tis only a question of picking yer moment.”

With a flick of his lighter, he set the butane alight and handed me the small kitchen torch.  Using extreme caution, I seared the outside of the two remaining morsels until they were a rich caramel colour.  Jamie then wrapped them in foil, placing them in the oven to finish cooking.  When they were cool enough to sample, the outside was pleasingly crunchy and sweet, while the inside swam in moist chicken-y flavour.  We both declared them the winner.

“Tis a funny thing about fire,” Jamie remarked as he packed up his bag to leave by the more conventional front door route.  “It can remain hidden beneath the surface, burying its secrets deep inside.  Doesna mean it doesn’t burn, though.”

I thought about what he’d said long after he was gone, leaving me alone with his signature scent of rising bread and salt air.

That weekend, I blamed the poor weather when I declined Frank’s offer to shop for an engagement ring.

***

The next week, instead of asking to be buzzed inside, Jamie requested that I join him downstairs.

Grabbing a Mackintosh, my purse and slipping into comfortable walking shoes, I joined Jamie outside my door.  He was particularly animated, despite the foul weather.

“We should ha’ started wi’ this lesson, but t’wasn’t the right day fer it,” he explained as we walked towards the farmers’ market that took place twice a week in the shadow of Castle Hill.

I considered protesting that I already knew how to shop for food, but Jamie’s enthusiasm was contagious.

We stopped at every stall, sampling the foodstuff on display, which was surprisingly varied despite it being November.  Jamie knew most of the merchants by name and our progress was regularly halted by conversations on topics as varied as his family’s health, the latest rugby results and Scottish politics.  I envied his wide circle of acquaintance and apparent ease interacting with them.  There was no pretense, no stiffness, just a man who inhabited every square centimetre of his life to the fullest.

Jamie insisted that I taste various produce before adding it to the cloth bag he’d provided.  Honey-crisp apples.  Peppery radishes.  Herb-infused venison sausage.  

“Close yer eyes,” he instructed when I was practically dizzy with all the flavours.  Still, I complied immediately.  A rubbery moisture tickled my lips.  “Open,” he said simply.  I opened.  “Tell me what ye taste, Arsonist.”

I chewed the morsel of cheese thoughtfully, letting the taste and texture coat my mouth before finally swallowing.

“Creamy.  Thick.  Salty.  Sorrel.”

I opened my eyes only to fall into the inky vortex of Jamie’s pupils, which had expanded to almost eclipse his irises.  His hand still hovered near my mouth, muscles frozen in abstraction.  The cheesemonger let out an awkward little cough.  Jamie blinked, and the moment vanished.

“Sorrel?” he asked a bit gruffly.

“Yer lass has a fine palate, Fraser.  My sheep graze in fields full o’ it.”

I allowed myself a smug little smile.  Neither of us corrected the merchant’s presumptive pronoun.

Later that evening, I sat cross-legged before the fire with a picnic for one.  Frank had called from his office earlier to say he was working on notes for an upcoming symposium.  Before me lay the results of the afternoon’s market adventure.  Closing my eyes as I ate,  every mouthful set my senses ablaze.

We never found time to visit the jeweler that weekend either.

***

The next week, I fell ill with a miserable head cold.   Frank was in Oxford for his symposium, so I called Ginger Snap myself and explained to Jenny in a hoarse voice that Jamie should avoid coming to my flat at all costs.

I was curled up in a mentholated daze when there was a series of knocks.  It took several minutes to free myself from my blanket cocoon and shuffle to the front door.  Glancing in the entryway mirror, my hair called to mind an electrified poodle and my nose was twelve shades of raw, but I opened the door anyway.  No-one was there.  Leaning out to peer down the hallway, I practically tripped over a brown paper bag resting at my feet.

Inside was a metal thermos, still quite warm to the touch.  As I unscrewed the cap, my stuffed nose was assailed by fragrant steam.  Homemade cock-a-leekie soup.  I felt a glow fill my chest that had nothing to do with my fever.  Pouring a helping into a mug, I shuffled back to my couch-nest.  I felt better already.

***

The following week, Jamie was distracted.  I’d thanked him profusely for the soup, and asked if he could show me how to make it for myself.  As the chicken thighs and stock began to warm, however, I caught him glancing regularly at his phone, fingers drumming against his thigh.

“Are you expecting an important text?” I finally asked.

“Hmm?  Och, Arsonist, I’m verra sorry.  Tis only that we got a last-minute request tae cater a big corporate Christmas party, an’ Jenny is beside herself wi’ worrying.”  He tucked him phone into the pocket of his cargo pants.

“When’s the party?”

“T’morrow,” he confessed.

“What!  Jamie, what are you doing here?  You should have called me to reschedule.”

“T’wouldna be fair, what wi’ us missing last week on account of yer sniffles.  An’ wi’ Christmas ‘round the corner, I didna ken when I’d... er, when we’d have time for another lesson.”

I turned off the burner with a decisive twist.  Jamie opened his mouth to lodge a protest, but I beat him to the punch.

“Jamie, the soup will keep.  Growing your business is more important. I wish there was something more I could do to help, but under the circumstances...”

“Come wi’ me?” he blurted out.

I was nodding before the words finished leaving his mouth.  Notwithstanding the fact that he had just literally been teaching me how to boil water, I didn’t want to lose his company so soon.   We likely wouldn’t see one another again until after the New Year.

It was a thirty minute walk to Leith.  Jamie could probably have covered the distance in half that with his long strides, were it not for me trotting along beside him.  We stopped at several shops along the way to pick up provisions, arriving at Ginger Snap with our arms laden with the freshest food Edinburgh had to offer.

I had expected Jenny and Jamie to be working alone, but the fire station was abuzz with activity.  I was hastily introduced to Angus, a distant Fraser cousin; Mary, a childhood friend of Jenny’s; and Murtagh, Jamie and Jenny’s godfather.  They worked together like a well-oiled machine, and I stood awkwardly to one side, wondering what the hell I was doing there.  I was preparing to make my excuses when Jamie called me over to a spare station.  He gestured to the commercial-sized sink, which was full of vegetables of every dimension and colour.

“Claire, I need ye tae rinse and then cut these inta nice even pieces.  Can ye do tha’ fer me?”

"Consider it done, chef,” I said with a jaunty salute.

There was a feeling of camaraderie as we each went about our assigned tasks.  I chopped.  Mary baked.  Angus filleted.  Jamie cooked, and Jenny plated the various canapés, salads and sauces and stored them in the enormous refrigerators that lined the back wall.    Murtagh’s role seemed mostly to keep the troops in line with an assortment of verbal barbs. 

Music played in the background.  Volleys of witty banter flowed between us, but never at the expense of the work or anyone’s feelings.  Angus nicked himself with his filleting knife, and Jenny sent him to my station for treatment, saying I was the team’s resident doctor.  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so at home.

Time passed quickly and before I knew it, it was dark outside.  The bulk of the work was done and the pace slackened, the pressure of the looming deadline relieved.  One by one we cleared our stations, meeting at the small seating area to share a well-earned drink.

Jenny sunk into the couch beside me and let out a loud sigh.

“Ouf, I canna believe we got it all done.  Claire, ye were a godsend.  Normally I do most o’ the prep work, but it leaves me no time tae arrange the dishes.”

I demurred, uncomfortable with the praise.

“Nay, Arsonist, ye were amazing,” Jamie began to object, but he was interrupted by my phone buzzing.  Glancing down, I felt my face fall.   I’d completely forgotten about Frank.  Now he was texting, asking me where I was.  I quickly fired off a reply, then stuffed the phone into my pocket.

“Everything alright?” Jenny asked.

“Oh, yes.  It’s only my fiancé, asking when I might be home,” I answered, still distracted by my uncharacteristic lapse.  As I glanced up, I ran straight into Jamie’s iceberg gaze.

“I didna realize ye were engaged,” he looked pointedly at my bare ring finger.  “Congratulations.”  

He said the word as though every syllable pained him.  I quelled the urge to explain, to say it wasn’t a real engagement because I’d never agreed, that I’d only been looking for a sense of security, but somehow found myself in a cage.

Instead I hastily finished my drink, called myself an Uber and quietly wished everyone a good night, all while avoiding the many questions written across Jamie’s expressive face.

[tmp-jatp]

Guys I just wrote my first fic.

I mean, I’ve written fics before, but never finished them. But I was struck by inspiration and I’ve been trying harder to write while the muse is there because you never know when she’ll leave and not come back. I’m so excited to share this with you.

You can read it on AO3 here (2479 words btw) or read it below. I’d love it if you checked it out :)

-

It was safe to say that Luke’s mind was near constantly full to the brim with music. As a songwriter, it was one of his favorite parts of himself. He had notebooks galore, all chock-full of half-written verses and melodies he hummed once in the shower and chord progressions he’d heard in a dream.

Usually, once he freed them from his mind via his pen, they were gone, saved in ink on the page. He would come back to them, to draw inspiration, to weave pieces together, to fashion them into full-fledged songs eventually.

There was always the one song that stuck around, though. It would never leave him, no matter how hard he tried.

He would hear pieces bouncing around between his ears. Sometimes it was a drum beat. Sometimes he heard snippets of words. Sometimes it was two voices, his and another always unrecognizable one, blending more beautifully than he would’ve thought possible as their two sounds danced together.

The Song had always been there, since before Luke could remember. At first there wasn’t much, just three notes that repeated over and over. One day, five more came to accompany them. As he had grown older, he’d learned what The Song meant.

Luke’s parents loved to sing their Song to one another, or they would sing it by themselves when they were alone to feel the other’s presence with them. It was a beautiful sound, and Luke loved hearing it. He asked his mom to sing their Song to him each night before bed for far more years than he would ever admit to Alex, Reggie, or Bobby.

When Luke tried to sing his parents’ Song, either by himself or with them, he’d found he never could. Even though he’d heard it a million times, his mind couldn’t recreate any part of it.

Luke would get frustrated and pout, but his mom would kneel down and smile at him.

“That’s because it isn’t your Song,” she’d told him. “Your father and I get to share this with each other and with other people, and it’s something that’s just ours. You have your own Song, and it’s just yours. One day you’ll find the person you get to share it with.”

Luke knew from middle school that he wanted to be a musician. He’d always been crafting songs, even while his own Song taunted him in its incompleteness.

When he’d gotten his first guitar for Christmas in seventh grade, another gift had come with it: more of The Song. He didn’t know which gift he valued more.

Luke learned how to play chords and arpeggios. He learned techniques while his hands learned the dexterity they needed. He developed muscle memory and honed an ability for transcribing music from his ears to his fingers.

The more he learned, the more his mind seemed to go wild with ideas at possibilities for songs. He started collecting notebooks. He always had one near or on his person with a pen also within reach. They filled haphazardly at the whims of Luke’s imagination.

Luke would play his ideas on his guitar and let them drift through his bedroom. They’d grow on their own and become more. It never felt like Luke was writing them, they just came to him.

His parents called it a gift.

When he wasn’t playing his songs, Luke was playing his Song. It burned into his mind. When he didn’t know where to go next with a piece, his fingers would always bring him back home.

The four boys started a band together. They met in Bobby’s garage and played their hearts out. Luke collected stray ideas all together to form and fill in coherent songs that they would play.

They sounded good.

The boys all knew about each other’s Songs by then. Reggie’s had a country twang to it that drove Luke crazy. He liked to play his Song’s chord progressions on his bass, but he was learning the banjo too to help him fill out the sound in his head. Alex was always humming his between reps and during set up and tear down, lost in his own world. It was soft and sweet, like a lullaby. When he got anxious, he would tap out rhythms and vocalize melodies to help calm himself down. Bobby’s Song was energetic and exciting, a sharp contrast to his shy self. He liked to play it on his electric before practices started and would always be finishing up just as the boys came into the garage, so they never heard much more than that which would seep out into the backyard.

None of them ever tried to replicate each other’s Songs. Songs were personal, they were intimate. Anyway, it wasn’t like they could recreate them, even if they tried.

Luke tried one night to transpose his Song to paper, but it never worked. His pen would hover above the sheet but never write anything at all. He tried to get something, anything, even just a word down, but it wouldn’t come out, determined to stay only inside his head. That was what Songs did.

They named their band Sunset Curve and started playing gigs. Other people liked their music, too.

Bobby became less shy when he was on stage, drawing energy from his Song to create a confidence that he would wear. Alex let out his anxiety on the drumset in a different way than how his Song would relieve his anxiety but which ended up helping just the same. Reggie wrote more country music in his free time. Sunset Curve never played it.

Luke grew older. His voice deepened and matured. One afternoon in the middle of practice, he stopped playing. The other three petered out once they noticed.

“Luke?” Alex asked from behind the set. “You okay?”

There was a voice singing his Song now. His voice was singing his Song.

“Yeah,” Luke smiled and assured. He didn’t explain what happened.

But after practice, he was humming again, a tune which complimented what they’d heard him play before. Reggie, Bobby, and Alex shared a grin while Luke wasn’t looking.

All four of them were in the music program at their high school. There were a lot of talented students in their class.

In junior year, there were a bunch of new freshmen who came up into the class. They showed a lot of promise. Sunset Curve became friends with a group of four of the freshmen. Their groups meshed well as eight, but they also all found a complement within themselves. Alex and Carrie liked to dance together. Reggie and Flynn explored new music genres and played pranks on the other six. Bobby and Nick became study partners. And Luke? Luke had Julie.

She was...well, she was Julie. She wasn’t afraid to be herself and wore it proudly, with her butterfly hair clips and dozen friendship bracelets and doodled shoes.

Reggie suggested that their group of eight should have a name. Flynn was unamused by Bobby’s suggestion of “Octuple Trouble”.

Luke wondered what the four freshmen’s Songs sounded like. He never asked. Songs were intimate, and lots of people were shy about other people hearing them. Songs revealed the deepest parts of your soul.

Luke knew that his soul was pure music and music alone.

Besides his parents and his brothers, no one ever heard Luke’s Song. No one else needed to hear his Song. It was his.

Julie, Carrie, and Flynn showed the boys how to make friendship bracelets. They explained how you made them for each other and then tied it on each other’s wrists so they would never come off as long as the friendship would last. Luke thought he would be embarrassed by wearing friendship bracelets and how it would clash with his style of jean chains and cutoff tees and metal rings, but somehow he wasn’t. They all eight hung out at Carrie’s house and tied bracelets for hours that night, with Star Wars playing in the background on the TV at Reggie and Nick’s requests. By the time they were finished, beads were in mis-matched piles on the ottomans and slivers of tape and string sprinkled the floor. It was one of the best nights of their lives.

Luke wore his bracelets proudly. They were dorky, but they were so them and Luke loved them. He had a purple and blue knotted pattern from Julie, and an orange and green one with beads that read B-I-C-E-P-S---M-C-G-E-E from Flynn.

Carrie made Alex something pink that Luke never saw closely. They’d spent the whole evening with her teaching him some fancy pattern of knots that would make a picture, so theirs matched one another’s.

Luke didn’t see what Bobby, Nick, or Reggie had made or for whom. He’d been too focused on his bracelet for Julie. He tried to channel all of his love for the friendship he’d found with her and with all eight of them into the strings, but his fingers that normally were so dextrous and able on the guitar couldn’t hold the strands with the right tension and it ended up a mess.

She loved it and wore it anyway.

Luke eventually had one bracelet from each person in Octuple Trouble and had given one to each person in turn.

Luke’s Song still plagued his mind day-in and day-out. Every day it felt it was more complete. He heard it all the way through now, but even still it wasn’t complete. There was always his guitar playing, but there was another instrument dueting his. Luke knew what the instrument was in his heart but he couldn’t name it when he tried. It was just...there. A sound that he knew better than any other but it was also different than anything he’d ever heard before. He heard his voice singing all the words, and he heard another voice, too, but it belonged to nobody. The other voice was the biggest mystery to him. It made him feel like he was home but like he didn’t know where home was.

A few months into junior year, Julie changed. She became more reserved and stopped playing in music class. Luke knew why. He didn’t know how he could help, though. He tried to just be there, and to make sure she knew he always would be.

Sunset Curve was gaining a reputation and playing more and more gigs.

Carrie started her own group, Dirty Candi. At some point she cut off all of her bracelets. Alex still went to all of their performances to support her.

Julie and Flynn stayed closer than ever before, but the rest of them...drifted.

A part of Luke fractured alongside their group. He was pretty sure a part of each of the rest of them did, too.

Senior year started and the eight of them felt practically like strangers once more. They were still all in music class, but it was different. It had been different for a long time. Nick and Bobby didn’t study together anymore. Alex and Carrie still hung out, but Reggie and Flynn hadn’t pranked anyone since November. Luke missed Julie.

Alex came to practice late one afternoon in September with wonder in his eyes and voice about a skateboarder he’d met.

“Well, he sort of ran into me...literally, and we both fell down. And I scraped up my hands pretty bad on the concrete trying to catch myself-” Alex showed them the bandaged heels of his palms “- and it stung, like, really bad. You know how I have that nervous habit where I hum my Song when I’m anxious? Yeah, okay, so I started to do that while he apologized and grabbed band-aids out of his pocket - I don’t know why he had band-aids, Reggie, probably because he gets scrapes pretty often too. But so I was humming my Song, and he started humming it too.”

Luke wondered what it felt like to hear your other half complete you.

A year after Julie changed back in junior year, she changed again. She came back. She played in class again and Luke was once again in awe of the power packed into this sophomore. He’d forgotten just how amazing she was. He didn’t know what had triggered this return, but he didn’t care. She was back.

Three weeks later, Luke was looking for Mrs. Harrison. He needed her to sign some form for him for his guidance counselor, something about graduation requirements. Luke hadn’t been paying attention.

He had his hand on the handle to the music room and was about to twist it open before he heard a sound from inside.

Three notes, repeated. Five notes. The whole sequence repeated once more.

Any thoughts of forms fell from his mind. Luke opened the door with a fervor he’d never experienced before. He rushed into the room but only made it two steps in before his shoes squeaked to a halt on the wooden floor.

Luke locked eyes with Julie. She sat behind the piano, in a black dress he’d never seen before.

The paper in his hand fluttered to the floor. Wordlessly, Luke crossed the room and picked up Mrs. Harrison’s acoustic guitar. He slipped the strap over his neck and faltered. What if he was wrong?

He took a deep breath and pushed his doubts down.

Luke turned around and saw Julie, who was watching him with a concerned curiosity.

No turning back. No regrets.

Luke’s hands started playing the first song he’d ever played. The song he’d played a billion times. It was etched into his dreams and it framed his every thought. Luke played his Song.

Julie’s eyes widened in recognition and her jaw dropped open.

Luke started singing and that seemed to spring Julie out of her stupor. Her fingers started moving across the keys in chords that accompanied his plucking.

She picked up the verse where he left off and Luke was hearing The Song for the first time. The other instrument that melded with his was the piano underneath Julie’s fingers. The other voice was hers.

Luke could see it in her eyes. She felt it, too.

Home.

It was exhilarating.

They filled the music room with their Song - no longer his, it was theirs - but the entire world was just them two. Nothing else existed but their music together.

Luke walked around the side of the piano while he played so he could be closer to Julie. He saw his god-awful friendship bracelet on her wrist while she played and smiled at the part of her that he carried on his, too.

That wasn’t the only part of her he’d been carrying, he realized.

Their Song.

Wow.

The two of them drew to a close, out of breath with amazement.

We create

A perfect harmony

They locked eyes. They were home.

@pink-flame @thedeathdeelers surprise you’re on my taglist

[btschooseafic]

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Jungkook feels the pressure of being the main vocal in their debut song.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. (TW: non-explicit talk of anxiety/ mental health treatment) [Masterlist]

Track 12: Golden Maknae

Talk To Me- Cavetown

“You don't have to be a prodigy to be unique

You don't have to know what to say or what to think”

“You want me to be the main vocal?” Jungkook stared wide eyed at Aviva. “But this is so sudden… I’m not ready…”

“That’s okay. It’s your debut song, so if you felt totally ready, I’d say you were being overconfident,” Aviva said, reaching over and hugging him.

“Our maknae!” Jimin clapped his hands and then jumped over, wrapping his arms around both of them as far as they would go. “Don’t worry about it too much! I’ll make sure to be a good lead!”

“But—but still…” Jungkook squirmed out of their arms. “Why am I the main vocal? There are other singers.”

“I asked everyone their opinion, and it was a nearly unanimous decision,” Aviva told him. Yoongi frowned.

“Nearly? Who didn’t vote for the maknae?”

Jungkook sighed. “I didn’t.”

“Oh.” Yoongi nodded. “I see.”

“I think it was the right choice,” Jin put in. “Jungkook-ah, your voice is the most stable, anyway.”

“Nice face, great body, and sings well too! Wow!” Taehyung shot him a thumb’s up. “You’re not our Golden Maknae for nothing!”

Jungkook swallowed, rubbing his throat.

“Oh, if your throat feels sore, I’ve got you covered,” Aviva said, pointing to a bag she placed on the couch.

“What’s in here?” Jin wondered, poking around. “Ah… I see… Certainly a lot of variety, manager-nim.” Everyone gathered around.

“I put my trust in modern medicine! I choose the ice-cold cooling spray!” Namjoon grabbed it.

“Lozenges should be plenty,” Yoongi thought, comparing two different packages.

“They’re different flavors,” Aviva told him.

“Yeah, but which one works better?” Yoongi wondered.

“And which one tastes better?” Jin wondered. Aviva frowned.

“Wait a minute, my Jungkookie senses are tingling.”

“Your what are what?” Jin asked, blinking at her.

“Spiderman reference,” Hoseok told him, doing the pose.

“Ah! Spiderman!” Jin nodded, also doing the pose.

“This happened a couple of times in LA,” Aviva said. “If I’m right—”

“Whoosh!”

“Whoosh!” Jin and Hoseok were pretending to spray each other with web.

Aviva shushed them. “Listen for a minute.” The sounds of music and Jungkook’s verse came floating towards them.

“Ah…” Jimin grimaced. “He’s practicing already.”

“This happened in LA?” Namjoon asked Aviva, his brow furrowing. “You didn’t mention it before.” Aviva shrugged.

“It was only a couple of times, when he got really stressed out about having trouble with a routine, he would sneak off and practice it himself until he got it down.”

“Ah, yeah, I’ve seen that.” Hoseok shook his head. “I’ve tried telling him not to stress so much, but…” Aviva frowned.

“Think about a time when you were really angry, or really sad, would telling you to ‘calm down’ or ‘cheer up’ help at all?”

Hoseok blinked. “I guess not.”

“I’d probably just get angrier out of spite,” Jimin thought.

“Yeah…” Aviva breathed out. “I know this isn’t talked about a lot around here, but it’s normal for you guys to face a lot of stressful, and emotional situations in this industry. It would be good to have some copping mechanisms prepared.”

Namjoon nodded slowly. “Have you talked to Jungkookie about that?”

“Yeah. I think that was the closest he’s ever come to yelling at me,” Aviva thought.

Namjoon blinked.

“Jungkookie, yell, at you? Wow, yeah, he must’ve been very stressed out.”

“He respects you a lot, Avi-noona,” Taehyung thought. “But maybe that just makes it harder for him sometimes, cause he wants to look good in front of you.”

“Hmmm…” Aviva ran her hand through her hair. “I wish I knew what to do.” She turned to Jin. “He’s been eating, right?”

“Seokjin’s Chicken House is open 24/7. We also provide delivery…” He winked at her. Aviva laughed.

“I might take you up on that sometime, when I don’t feel like cooking.”

Namjoon rested his hands on his hips. “Back to Jungkook-ah... I guess all we can do is be there for him. He says he’s not, but he’s capable of doing well, and then some.”

On the morning of the first day of recording, Jin invited Aviva over for breakfast.

“Wow, Jin-oppa…” She looked over the large spread. “This looks great!”

“Wait!” Namjoon said, as everyone moved to dig in. “Our Golden Maknae first!”

“What? Me?” Jungkook stared at him. Aviva frowned.

“Yeah.” Yoongi nodded. “Being main vocal is hard, so you need to eat more. I agree.”

“Did you sleep okay?” Aviva asked him as he picked up his chopsticks. His hands were shaking slightly. She pushed his hair back from his face. He was pale.

“I’m fine, noona,” Jungkook muttered.

“Soy-braised beef.” Hoseok held the platter out to him. “Let me fill your plate!” Everyone started piling things onto Jungkook’s plate.

“Thanks…everyone, but I sing better on an empty stomach,” Jungkook said, his pale face looking slightly green now. “I’m gonna go nap in the car…”

“At least have some water,” Aviva said, moving to pour some for him.

“I said I’m fine!” Jungkook snapped. “You don’t have to always baby me!” Everyone stared at him. He froze for a moment, and then ran out the door. Namjoon reached over and squeezed Aviva’s shoulder.

“You okay?”

She just grimaced.

“Huh? Jungkookie doesn’t want the meat?” Jimin stared at it hungrily.

“I guess he just wanted time al—Hey, Jimin-ah, you couldn’t even be a little patient?” Namjoon said, slapping his chopsticks down. Meat splattered over the table.

“Kim Namjoon-ssi!” Jin said, standing up. “Don’t waste food!”

“Ah, sorry, hyung! I’m clean it up.” Namjoon reached for a napkin and knocked over someone’s water, spilling it over Jin’s plate. Jin started cursing as Namjoon kept apologizing.

“Save the meat!” Taehyung said, grabbing the plate and munching on it steadily.

“Tae!” Jimin shouted. “Leave some for me!”

“If Jungkookie can pass on something this delicious, he must be ready!” Tae thought. “It means he’s completely focused on the song, and nothing else.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Aviva said quietly. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned. “Yoongi-oppa?” She hoped he had something encouraging to say.

“You distract Tae while I grab the meat,” he told her.

Aviva left the boys to fight over the meat, checking the car to find Jungkook stretched out in the back.

“Time to go yet?” He said, his eyes still closed.

“Not yet,” she said. “They might be a while.” He let out a breath.

“Noona?”

“Hmm?”

“Sorry for shouting at you.”

“It’s fine,” she said. Jungkook made an uncertain noise.

While recording his section, Jungkook became fidgety, and his voice cracked. He coughed, and spluttered, looking pleadingly through the glass at Namjoon.

“Hyung,” he said, raspy. “I’m losing my voice…”

Aviva took Jungkook to a doctor, worried about his throat, while Jin drove the rest of the boys back to the dorm.

“Jeon Jungkook-ssi, I’m very concerned,” the doctor said.

Aviva’s jaw worked. She let out a breath.

“What are you concerned about, doctor?”

“Well, let’s just get this out of the way… I don’t see any physical issues with the vocal chords at all. His throat is exceptionally healthy. “

“Then…?” Aviva wondered.

“The patient is a 16-year-old boy, right? What’s going on that he’s so stressed out? Looking at these test results, I’d expect him to be a soldier in an active combat zone.” The doctor handed over a pile of papers. Aviva skimmed them, but there were a lot of words she didn’t understand.

She and Jungkook took the train and a bus back together. With Jungkook’s permission, Aviva took out a dictionary and began translating a bunch of the medical terms. “Cortisol, adrenaline… ah, I see why she was so worried.”

“Explain it to me,” Jungkook said. “Please.”

“Cortisol and adrenaline are hormones that the body releases during stressful situations. They can help you preform at a higher level than usual, but too much exposure can have a negative impact on your mind and body,” Aviva told him. Jungkook frowned, looking from the dictionary to her.

“It doesn’t say all that in here. Did you just happen to know it? Are you secretly a genius like Namjoon hyung?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t do particularly well in Chemistry. I mean, I never got to learn it properly, so I just studied it on my own for the test I took… it’s, um, like the equivalent of a high school diploma in the U.S, so if it makes me a little less under qualified there, you know? But, um, I know about these hormones in particular, cause I’ve had them on my blood tests before too, in high levels.”

Jungkook squeezed his hands into fists in his lap. “Jen-ah said… she said both of you have suffered from a lot of anxiety, just like me.”

“Yeah.” Aviva nodded. “We have.”

“She also said you read a lot of books on how to deal with that kind of stuff, and taught yourself coping techniques. I know you offered to teach me before, but… do you think you could try again? I mean, if you still want to.”

“Jungkook-ah, at the time, I probably should’ve seen a doctor, instead of taking it on myself,” Aviva admitted. “I’m not a professional.”

“I can’t,” Jungkook muttered. “If I’m going to be an idol, and that gets out… Anyway, I’m still a minor. My parents would have to pay for it, and I don’t want to worry them.” Aviva sighed. “Will you help me?”

“I’ll do my best, Jungkook-ah.” Over the rest of the bus ride, Aviva taught Jungkook a few breathing and grounding techniques.

Back at the dorm, Taehyung and Jimin immediately grabbed Jungkook, dragging him into one of the rooms. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you!” Tae said.

“Aviva-yah,” Namjoon said. “How is he?”

“Well, Jungkook-ah said it was okay for me to share this with you, but don’t go spreading it around, okay?” After they nodded, she told them about his test results.

“Fuck,” Yoongi said.

“We fucked up,” Hoseok agreed. “I guess the things we thought were supportive were just putting even more pressure on him.”

“We have to remember, he’s only sixteen,” Aviva said.

Namjoon rubbed his neck. “This is my fault. He’s talented and he works hard, so I kept pushing him…”

“We all played a hand,” Yoongi said. “We’re a team.”

Namjoon smiled tensely at him. “Yeah, hyung, but I’m supposed to be the leader. So I should take responsibility.”

“Should we go rescue him from Jimin-ah and Taehyungie?” Aviva wondered. “Ah, but maybe he’ll think I’m babying him again…”

Jin patted her on the back. “We’re all worried. We just want to help.”

“Yeah, but…” Yoongi shook his head, looking at Aviva. “You told us there was no physical injury, and I still saw Jimin-ah grab the first aid kit.”

“At least they’re sure to shower him with lots of attention!” Hoseok said cheerfully. Then he wilted. “Wait, maybe that would just stress him out more…”

“He needs to build some confidence,” Yoongi thought. “But how?”

“If we could just get him singing, but not thinking so much about it,” Jin thought. “Ah, wait!” He snapped his fingers. “I’m a genius! I have the perfect idea.” He tilted his head. “Well, maybe.” He shrugged. “Eh, it’s worth a try.”

Namjoon stared at him. “…You’re gonna give me whiplash, hyung.”

“Avi-yah.” Jin put his hands on her shoulders. “I will draw Jimin-ah and Taehyung-ah out, so you go talk to Jungkookie and work your manager-magic until I give you the signal.” He started pushing her down the hall.

“Manager-magic?” Namjoon wondered.

“What’s the signal?” Aviva wanted to know.

“You’ll know it when you see it!” Jin said excitedly.

Aviva waited until Jimin and Taehyung ran out of the room, shooting her thumbs up and grins, before running off again towards the kitchen. Aviva knocked on the door uncertainly. “Jungkook-ah? Are you sleeping? Can I come in?”

“Ah, noona… okay. It’s a little embarrassing, but I think I could use a hand with these.”

“What’s embarrass—” Aviva dissolved into giggles when she saw the bandages wrapped around his head and his arm.

“Ah, I’m not sure if they were actually trying to help, or just mess with me, but…” He struggled with one of the bandages. Aviva sat next to him on the bed.

“May I…?” She reached towards him. He nodded. He watched her as she worked out the knot, her lip pinched between her front teeth as she concentrated.

“Noona, can I ask you… those things you were nervous about in the past, the things that gave you test results like mine, and made you want to learn those techniques… were you able to get passed it?”

“Hmm, well, there were a couple of different situations,” she said, unwrapping the bandage from his head and moving to the one on his arm. “One situation that used to give me a lot of anxiety was the idea of moving to South Korea. In general, I think I handled that pretty well.” Jungkook nodded.

“You’re one of the strongest people I know,” he said. She smiled.

“Thank you. I know you mean it when you say it, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way myself. Some days I struggle to do even the bare minimum.” She finished taking the bandage off of his arm and twisted it into a ball. “Another situation I was anxious about was that High School test I mentioned earlier. I passed, but… I didn’t do very well. Chances are, if I ever want to take any classes in the U.S. again, I would need to retake that test first. Some days, you don’t win.”

Jungkook flopped down onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

“So you’re saying either I give up, or I just keep trying until I get it right?”

She lay down next to him. “I didn’t say that. I mean, you could do that, but it sounds very tiring, Jungkookie.”

He turned on his side, looking at her. “It is. Is there a third option?”

“I don’t know. But there’s usually an alternative route, you just have to find it. If it’s a goal you want to reach badly enough, you should keep trying until you get it, but maybe try a few different ways?” She sighed. “I don’t know, JK, I’m still figuring this out.” He smiled.

“That’s one thing I like about you, noona, you’re not afraid to admit when you don’t have the answers. Right now, I don’t know what to do. I really want to be the main vocalist, I really want to do well, but… I don’t know how. How do I find the alternative route?” Suddenly there was a knock on the window. They both jumped, Jungkook moving slightly in front of Aviva. “Burglars?”

“Um, I don’t think so. I think it might be…” She walked over to the window and pulled open the curtain, rolling her eyes when she saw Jin striking a pose on the other side. Jungkook snickered.

“What’s he doing?”

“I’ve got no clue. Let’s find out.” Aviva pulled open the window. “Oppa, I am very interested to see where you’re going with this.”

“Prepare to be amazed, manager-nim, and Jeon Jungkook-ah!” Jin said, striking another pose.

Aviva sniffed. “Something smells good.”

“Why, thank you, Namjoon-ah’s minding it for me, though, so we’d better hurry before he lets it burn. Come join us in the backyard, okay?” Jin rushed off.

Jungkook and Aviva exchanged a bemused look before rushing for the door.

The boys had used a plank of wood and some crates to fashion together a low table, placing a grill on top of it, where they were cheerfully cooking meat and vegetable skewers. Someone had strung Christmas lights up overhead, giving the backyard a cozy and warm atmosphere.

“You have to add onions!” Hoseok was saying. “Onions are the best when grilled.”

“It’s a miracle cure!” Taehyung singsonged. “When you’re feeling down, you go go full speed ahead to where the meat is!”

“The guest of honor is late!” Namjoon said, grinning at Jungkook.

“Come on, come on!” Jimin said, running over to them, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him over to sit. Aviva hovered awkwardly in the background for a moment before Jin caught her eye and waved her over. She sat in an empty spot between him and Yoongi.

“What do you think?” Jin asked, turning to Jungkook and motioning at everything.

“…Looks good,” Jungkook admitted, a small smile slipping onto his face. The other boys cheered. Hoseok started pouring everyone a cup of beer while Jin started making up a plate for Aviva.

“So eat and cheer up!” Taehyung said, nudging Jungkook’s arm with his.

“Yeah, eat and hang in there so we can practice even harder!” Hoseok said. Aviva frowned at him.

“Hobi…” She said warningly.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook told her, actually looking like he meant it for once.

“Let’s eat until we die!” Yoongi said, grabbing another piece of meat.

“Eat until we die?” Jin repeated. “Don’t you mean eat until we debut?”

Yoongi snorted. “Wait, before we eat,” Taehyung said, ignoring Yoongi’s pointed chewing. “Shouldn’t we say something?”

“Oh yeah, a toast,” Hoseok agreed. “We can’t skip that.”

“I always do it… so today should be the maknae’s turn,” Namjoon suggested. Everyone cheered again. Jungkook waved his hand dismissively.

“You should say something, since it’s your party,” Jimin agreed.

“If you don’t have anything prepared, you can say Seokjin-hyung thanks for the delicious meat!” Jin offered.

“Or something like Taehyung-hyung, I love you!” Tae suggested. Jin laughed.

“Ah…” Jungkook stared down at his drink. “I’m sorry, for being the worst one in the studio—” Everyone interrupted him with noises of protest.

“What do you mean? Don’t say that!” Jimin whined.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jin agreed.

Namjoon insisted Jungkook had done so well that his ears had melted and fused together. Hoseok played along, asking him if he needed to go to the hospital.

“Or maybe Aviva-yah can kiss it better?” He cooed. Even in the dark they could see Namjoon’s face flush.

“You kiss it better yourself,” Aviva said, tired of his antics. Hoseok looked at Namjoon thoughtfully as everyone laughed.

“Jungkookie, you’re the main vocal. If you keep saying you didn’t do well, what does that make us?” Taehyung wondered.

Jungkook looked thoughtful.

“If Jungkook-ah can’t think of anything to say, maybe he should just serenade us, melt our ears,” Namjoon put in.

Jungkook started to sing, with the others gradually joining in. By the second chorus, even Aviva had joined, so quietly that only Yoongi and Jin heard and glanced at her, grinning.

“You’ve got a nice voice,” Yoongi said in her ear, making her shiver slightly. “Are you sure you’re not the one who should be debuting?”

“Shut up!” She whispered, elbowing him. He winced.

“Watch the shoulder,” he muttered.

“Sorry!”

Aviva stayed over early into the morning, helping clean the yard so the landlady wouldn’t yell at them.

“Well, these two are useless,” Namjoon thought, his voice muffled as Taehyung squished his cheeks, serenading him. Jimin was hanging off of Joon’s back like a monkey.

“Send them to bed,” Aviva told him.

“Yeah.” Namjoon gave Jimin a piggy-back ride. Taehyung trailed after them, still singing.

“Ah, I think Hobi-hyung is done for as well,” Jungkook (only slightly drunk himself), spoke up.

“I can tuck him in,” Aviva offered.

“Yay!” Hoseok hugged her tightly, pressing her face against his chest, tucking his chin over the top of her head.

“Ugh, Hobi, can’t breath!” Aviva squeaked.

“Avi’s comin’ to bed with me!” Hoseok gloated to Yoongi, sticking his tongue out. “Take that, hyung!” Yoongi glared at him.

“Jungkook-ah,” he said firmly.

“Got it.” Jungkook grabbed Hoseok’s arm and peeled him off of her with surprising strength. “Come on, hyung, don’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning.”

“No regrets!” Hoseok cried, slinging his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked Aviva, a little concern leaking through his usual blank expression. Aviva smiled.

“It’s fine, Hobi’s always clingy, even when he’s not drunk.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Yoongi was still frowning.

“Chingu!” Jin called. “Where are those garbage bags?”

“Eh, you used all of them already?” Yoongi groaned. “Seriously?” He took a full bag and dragged it over to the door. “I’ll get more.” He leaned close to Aviva. “Keep an eye on hyung, he’s drunker than he looks.”

“Okay,” Aviva said. “Yoongi…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay carrying all that? Your shoulder—”

“It’s fine,” he said tensely, sighing when she stared at him. “No, for real. Physical therapy helped a lot.”

“That’s great.” Aviva gave him a quick hug before going back to Jin.

“So…” Jin hummed as he cleaned, his neck flushed from the alcohol. “You and Yoongi-yah…?”

“What about Yoongi-oppa?” Aviva asked innocently.

“Well, isn’t that the stereotypical plot, the group members all fighting over the same girl?” Jin thought. Aviva frowned.

“You watch too many dramas.”

“Maybe.” Jin shrugged. “I’m just saying I wouldn’t want that to happen, especially before we’ve even debuted.”

“Jin-oppa, they just like to joke around, they’re not seriously interested in me.”

“Aish, Aviva-yah, you aren’t that oblivious, are you?” Jin looked her in the eye, suddenly looking a lot less drunk than he had a moment ago. She ignored the heat rising in her face, holding the eye contact without flinching.

“It wouldn’t happen. I’m a good friend to have, but as far as… I wouldn’t be a good girlfriend.” She’d only had a sip of beer with the cheers earlier, she wondered if it was possible to drunk off of one sip? Or was she overtired? Because these were things she had never spoken about, not even with Soonyoung or Jen. These were things she didn’t even like to think about in the privacy of her own mind. “There are things I don’t… I won’t…” She let out a breath, letting her words fade away.

“… I’m sorry, Viva-yah, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Jin said, his expression softening. “I think I might’ve been too harsh.”

[bloodybells1]

ON SCORDATURA

When I was eighteen, I was really into heavy metal and had been practicing the electric guitar for four years. I was devoted to music theory and looked up to guitarists like Steve Vai. I played loudly and fast, emulating the popular style of playing when heavy metal was at its apex of popularity. You might say that I was a “shredder.” 

My passion for technique took an unexpected turn, however, when I became fascinated by the classical guitar. I don’t exactly remember when it hit me, the inspiration to explore this type of playing. It might’ve been born from reading the name of Andres Segovia in the magazine interviews of my favorite guitarists. (Also, I listened to a lot of Jethro Tull, and the intro to one of his songs is a quotation of a popular classical guitar score by Bach, the “Bourée in E Minor.” I started teaching it to myself by ear, but soon realized I needed help adjusting to the new technique). 

One day I made the decision that I wanted to take the plunge into the classical world. I purchased a cheap nylon string, looked for a tutor and, once I found one in Chapel Hill, NJ, I started taking lessons and practicing every day.

I was enthralled by the new possibilities in this style of playing. I was discovering a wealth of textures and styles I’d had no previous idea about. My parents had not listened to classical music, so all of this was foreign to me. But I fell in love with the genre all the same.

I loved how old this practice was, how its provenance dated back to before there was electricity. I loved the deceptive simplicity of paper scores, how the mere act of sight-reading might open up varied worlds of expression, limited only by the player’s willingness to learn the technique and the player’s ability to perform.

My tutor included Renaissance lute scores in his homework for me. These scores contained instructions for alternative tuning arrangements of the strings. This changes the whole grid of the fretboard. Each string has been tightened or loosened to different notes, so all the note relationships are changed. If you wanted to play the same material you would have to relearn it with new fingerings. 

But that wasn’t the point. The scordatura was designed to make available new sonorities. These lute pieces dating back to the Renaissance had a “harpier” texture, with open notes ringing out in different keys and mixtures of notes in registers I didn’t often hear in guitar music with traditional tuning. It was rather exotic, like the simple act of turning a screw on a taut string had turned this plain old Spanish guitar into some new, esoteric instrument.

My experience with classical guitar, and specifically the scordatura my tutor taught me, was a factor later in life when I played bass guitar professionally in the mid 2000’s. Not only do I think that it made me flexible enough to feel confident learning to play another stringed instrument, but it also influenced my tuning. I utilized what’s called Drop D tuning, a simple type of scordatura that lowers the heaviest string by two notes. It gives you two extra lower notes you wouldn’t normally have with the standard tuning—where the lowest note is E. 

Heavy metal guitarists love this tuning because of how much heavier it makes the music sound and because it ends up making power chord configurations a one-finger job instead of two, and you can play those heavy power chord riffs much more quickly with just one finger. 

Drop D was useful to me, however, because of how it enabled me to interact with the songwriting. My band’s music was dark and a lot of the songs were in D minor. So having a lower D available permitted me to create pedal tones and deeper support functions for chords and textures that were already using that scale a lot. It added depth and character to the music because of this sort of flexible shadow figure moving around underneath the guitars and the keyboards.

I had a profound experience with scordatura later in 2014, while I was in acting school. One of our school productions was a kind of fantasia on Nabokov’s Pale Fire. The novel is already a bit of a fantasia itself, so the production was very post-modern. 

The director, Alex Harvey, staged it brilliantly. One of his ideas was that my character would play passages on the piano between scenes. The score was from a series called Revelation by composer Michael Harrison. 

Harrison had contrived a bespoke scordatura for the score. An assistant, a specialist who could interpret unconventional concert pieces like these, was hired to transform the school’s simple upright Yamaha, an instrument more often used as accompaniment for students singing from the American Songbook, into a piece of avant-garde machinery. 

I had already begun learning some of the passages before the piano had been prepared. They sounded ok, but not extraordinary. Once the tuner was finished and the specific tuning had been accomplished, however, I began learning the pieces in earnest and it was, well, it was a revelation. 

Harrison’s scordatura was wild. Some keys adjacent to each other were tuned only fractionally sharper than their predecessor on the keyboard, thereby creating a tonal cloud or wash between the two that sounded a little like an untuned guitar, but in a shimmery, beautiful way. Other keys were tuned a whole fifth from their predecessor, thereby jumping up very far between two adjacent keys. The two extremities canceled each other out to create a distinct sense of balance and harmony, a kind of timbral mist floating in the ether. 

As I worked on the score I had a sense that I didn’t know what was happening. It was difficult for me to anticipate and conceptualize the piano with this exotic construction. Yet, reading through the score and performing it, the idea was actualized. A whole new musical sensibility was borne out of this tuning. It was thrilling to put into action such a strange and beautiful arrangement.

What would a trumpet sound like if one could alternate its tuning? It’s a ridiculous notion: it would require bending metal, destroying the instrument in the process. Scordatura is likewise impossible for woodwinds. Ditto, percussion. A timpani, the most obvious exception, is in fact quite flexible and can even be tuned during performance. The percussionist puts their ear to the skin and lightly taps so as to enable them to change the tuning without disturbing the performance of other orchestra members. But you can’t do that with, say, tubular bells.

Stringed instruments and the piano are different than all the other instruments. The oscillators, the strings themselves, are adjustable. Coupled with the fact of their polyphony, it’s plain why these instruments, especially the piano, are so popular. They are great adapters. They can be brought back to their mean and reset for future use in other circumstances. The ubiquity of these instruments, across genres, in barrooms and conservatories alike, is explained by their ability to avail themselves. 

And what about the voice? How supple are the cords? Can they be stretched or loosened like the strings of a guitar? Is there a scordatura possible for the human vocal mechanism?

It’s debatable: vocal training, primarily through work in breathing, does fortify ones range by bolstering the lower and upper parts of the register with more support. But your vocal cords are your vocal cords. Even on a guitar, you can’t detune the strings too much. It affects the timbre: the fretboard is designed with a natural state of tension and that string that is being detuned is only thick enough to perform in a certain range before the slackening of the string makes it flap against the fretboard—or before the tightening warps the fretboard. 

Vocal cords are similar in this way. Just like with a guitar, once you start “detuning” your voice, you invite corruption of the sound. Your voice cracks when you try to go too low. 

When Olivier tackled Othello he tried to lower his voice through vocal training. Obviously, considering all of the other garish and offensive effects—the blackface, the funny walk, the stupid dialect—he should’ve known better than to engage in minstrelsy, but he also should’ve known about the corruption of his voice. Not all instruments have that level of flexibility. 

He should’ve known that not everything is available. 

What about the human being itself? Can it be construed as an instrument? one that might likewise permit a certain scordatura? 

My feeling is that in this case the change is permanent. And, like with a trumpet, one risks destruction. The human being is not a stringed instrument. 

I can attest to a certain kind of “permanent” scordatura of the body and mind. It was possible for me to “detune” myself, but it was a commitment to a new state. I won’t ever be able to “go back” to my original tuning. It involved deep structural shifts and I came close to collapse—and in fact did collapse—many times. The instrument—the body and the mind—was constantly at risk of crumbling and warping under the stress of the transformation. Slackening a string is one thing. Shortening or elongating a valve is another. 

What is therapy but a type of spiritual scordatura? The patient comes in with a limitation in place and leaves with that “bar” set somewhere else. Thresholds are repositioned. Pain that was once unbearable can be stomached. New life experiences are   permitted because the mind has been opened to their possibilities. It is a fact that the change is permanent, but after we recognize the evolution we would never want to “detune” back to where we were. 

I have a long history with therapy and it is without question the source of all of the appetite for change that I’ve experienced. In teaching me about healing, it motivated me to seek out other forms of healing. I credit it with helping me gain acceptance to the prestigious MFA program in Acting which I entered in 2012 at NYU, the beginning of three years wherein this process of permanent scordatura would be hastened. 

I had many illnesses. Some would find treatment through the program’s vast assortment of exercise techniques addressing body misalignment and spiritual imbalance. Yoga classes, Feldenkrais, Alexander technique, chakra work, these were all deployed to “tune” the bodies in class. 

Voice and speech exercises as well helped bring awareness of lifelong limits, expressed through the mouth and in the breath. It was unnerving to encounter these intimate facts about how one walks, how one talks, how one moves, how one breathes. 

Most people would never submit themselves to this level of scrutiny. A fellow alumnus with additional experience in the military often jokes that an MFA at NYU Grad Acting is actually more oppressive than boot camp because at least in boot camp you let your anger and hostility grant you relief—you can growl and yawp and hunch over and adapt to battlefields—whereas actors, despite undergoing similar rounds of abuse, must look smooth and collected and relaxed in order to perform well on stage. It really was a double whammy of having my being constantly interrogated in various invasive manners, all while being denied any permission to sublimate the tension.  

I had my own motivations to undergo this training. I was desperate to have a classical training in the theatre. But I was also subconsciously motivated towards healing. Despite the horrors of these ordeals, the modalities that are therewith deployed are part of a healing experience that, having undergone them, I wouldn’t trade for anything. Had I known what I was getting myself into beforehand, I don’t know that I would’ve jumped in the pool. But I’m glad I didn’t know because I cherish the experience.

I had a problem with keeping my mouth only partially open which our singing teacher was constantly bringing my attention towards. She had taught me that this was a defense mechanism, a strategy of containment, a means of keeping the world from having access to my heart. (Of course, keeping your mouth closed is also a problem for sound projection on stage, but that’s more technical). 

During one afternoon class, singing “Lonely Room” from Oklahoma, I broke down into tears as the teacher kept coaxing me to open my mouth more and more. There I was, a man pushing 40, with tears streaming down his eyes, opening his mouth wide, not even singing the words, just the vowels, but doing something that was so psychically threatening, something that I could never bring myself to do, something simple, like opening a mouth. The limit had been expanded.

There was an element of bodily restructuring to all of this as well. I had done a number on my body during those years of my professional musicianship, when I toured the world in a famous band. And so by this point, I was aware that a shift was needed from the effects of years spent in front of cameras and abusing drugs and traveling and losing sleep. Alice Miller’s book, The Body Keeps the Score, is instructive in this regard. Somatization of traumas explain a great deal of certain physical ailments. In my case, they played out structurally, on my bones and on my muscles and in my central nervous system. 

These changes are subtle to the layperson. But they are profound for the student. When I look at how I held my body in old photos, it is obvious to me that there was something wrong. On the stage, with a heavy instrument hanging from my shoulder, it wasn’t perceptible. The lights and the postures have a way of masking the truth. But in the more candid and private shots—the Polaroids and the exposures from my disposable camera which my friends and I took in our apartments—I see evidence of a lot of tension. Shoulders crept upwards towards my ears; chest muscles held; an exploded solar plexus; a chin pointing up. It was a mixture of a lot of holding, a lot of somatization in the fibers, with a learned posture organized to communicate the persona I wanted everyone to see: a demiurge or rockstar. 

I came into grad school as though off an assembly line, where the factory had riveted and hammered onto my body and psyche its lessons. It was a capitalistic factory but it was also a societal one, one that bore the hallmarks of the dogged problems which elude solution: childhood trauma, dog-eat-dog meritocracy, bullying, etc. 

So now I was this product getting recalled, but I was going to another factory for refurbishment. One that also had rivets and hammers, but ones which were designed to break open the right parts.

I stretched and stretched. By the end of the three years I was essentially exiting with a new body. The myth about the seven year cellular regeneration in one’s body is instructive here. For it truly was the case that new grooves in my brain and muscular and skeletal patterns had taken hold. One of my teachers said during my final evaluation that I had come in to school looking like a clothes hangar with legs but that I now looked graceful. 

Even my scoliosis—a condition I was born with and which I will contend with for the rest of my life—was discovered in acting school. I had had no idea about it before one of the teachers told me that I persisted in leaning downwards to my right. My spine curves in the shape of a sidewards C. It’s a genetic condition. Of course, hanging a ten-pound instrument off my shoulder and letting the weight pull me down to the ground so that I could look cool every night didn’t really help either.

The modalities in the movement and vocal training classes in acting school are designed to build awareness and flexibility in the body and the mind. The purpose of this is to permit the actor to be resilient enough on stage so as to be present and believable. So it has a practical purpose and a real-world application. 

I had other problems which these modalities could not fix, but which their steady application, encouraging honesty and reflection, revealed. There were addictions and mental illness issues which I’d had no idea about before entering grad school but which were inflamed by the pressure inside. I then had to deal with them. Immediately, since they threatened the goal of getting my MFA. 

The cocaine abuse of my years in the music industry haunted me in the form of paralyzing panic attacks and circadian disruptions which complicated my ability to perform in school. The years spent pursuing rampant and anonymous sexual congress created inappropriate obsessiveness with orgasms and romance. Naturally, given that my peers were all considerably younger than I was, this last part wasn’t all that abnormal. But it interfered nonetheless. I was no spring chicken but I was acting like one. I had to double down on sex addiction meetings and on therapy.

It all came to a head inside the cloistered walls of the conservatory. It came to a head when Alex Harvey, the director of the Nabokov rendition, had to massage my shoulders backstage as I collapsed in tears during one of many nervous breakdowns. It came to a head when in a movement class, during an unfamiliar physical exploration, an early painful memory of abandonment that had long been forgotten had been recalled and sent me to the floor sobbing. 

I’m grateful that I had the means to address the issues. I had to juggle that with the demands of the curriculum. It was not easy. But I’m proud of my accomplishment and I’m proud of the new person this all made me become.

It is possible to “detune.” I think a better way of looking at it is “retuning.” It is a permanent scordatura and it therefore should not be taken lightly.

[prismsmt]

addie with superm !

addie is superm’s lovable maknae and the super group’s only female member. she was added to the line-up very last minute. she wasted no time making friends with the rest of the group so they could work together comfortably.

byun baekhyun

✧ definitely her dad friend

✧ she has jokingly called him her dad during solo lives

✧ honestly they’re just really supportive of each other

✧ he made her want to practice singing more, and encouraged her to do so

✧ thank baekhyun for vocalist addie

✧ addie once beat baekhyun in a league of legends 1v1 and neither have let it go

✧ constantly trying to one-up each other

✧ addie usually goes to baekhyun if she’s having a serious problem with someone else

✧ she doesn’t expect advice, but a way to ignore the problem for a while

✧ addie would drop anything to help him, just as he would do for her

lee taemin

✧ she was terrified of taemin when they first met

✧ addie didn’t really have a reason for being scared, but he was the taemin

✧ once she got over her intimidation, they became great friends

✧ they pick on each other a lot

✧ addie made him teach her advice before he left for the military

✧ would square up with anyone that hurts addie

✧ has definitely fussed at addie for being too hard on herself

✧ her favorite soloist, but don’t tell boa

✧ they act a lot like siblings

✧ she messes with his hair a lot, which makes the stylists mad

kim jongin

✧ her favorite dance practice partner

✧ they help each other a lot when it comes to technique

✧ made him teach her mmmh & reason’s choreography

✧ he’s never been in the older sibling role, but he’s doing his best

✧ always texting each other about something or someone

✧ bear & fox plushies are everywhere , please stop them

✧ often goes to him if she’s having trouble with a routine

✧ their instagram feeds are more of them together than themselves alone

✧ “no, jongin from exo, you’re not singing mama right”

✧ honestly she’s just another baekhyun to him, except younger

lee taeyong

✧ mom friend, definitely

✧ often goes to him when she has problems with being a leader

✧ she got him a build-a-bear dog when she heard about ruby

✧ tired leaders, both need a break

✧ he’s a very helpful person for addie, she appreciates him greatly

✧ addie learned gta just to support him during his solo stages

✧ he is credited a lot on her solo albums for lyrical help

✧ “I’ve had addie for a day and half, but if anything happened to her I’d kill everyone in the room including myself”

✧ always talking abt the bullshit they deal with in their own groups/fandoms

✧ they’ve given each other a key to the other’s dorm just in case of emergency

ten lee

✧ 2nd favorite dance partner

✧ honestly she’s still kinda scared of him

✧ convinced he has no bones

✧ but they tend to mess around a lot

✧ like the one time ten decided to steal her hat, and she chased him around the practice room

✧ everyone was tired of them, but it was fun

✧ she has talked him into a few dance projects when he’s been less busy

✧ also a source of inspiration when it comes to vocals, thank ten too

✧ learned thai because of him, they’ll have side conversations a lot

✧ they jokingly insult others in languages they don’t understand

wong yukhei

✧ marked as “tree” & “shrimp” in each other’s phones, respectfully

✧ close to no lines buddies

✧ stay up til 4am sending each other memes, even when they have schedules

✧ once spent an entire practice unsure of how to talk to each other so they switched languages a lot

✧ addie spends a lot of time at the wayv dorm just to be with bella

✧ movie nights are a thing if either of them get super stressed and need a break

✧ any time he makes a short joke : “you wanna die?”

✧ they’ve playfully fought on stage before, but stan twitter took it too far (of course)

✧ he strategically hides her phone whenever they’re practicing so he can “find it” later

✧ she definitely knows he’s the one that hides it, she just can’t get him back yet

mark lee

✧ malfunctioning english speakers

✧ they used to train together a lot, so there’s already a lot of trust

✧ addie has been shown to help mark a lot with small details in choreographies if he asks

✧ he taught her a little about playing the guitar, but not enough for her to be confident

✧ usually together, she’ll cling to him if she’s feeling nervous

✧ she still owes him a song from their trainee days

✧ always said they would produce a song together and put it on one of their solo albums

✧ often asked if they’re dating, especially on american television shows

✧ helped her write a full english track on her debut album, but he still doesn’t know the story

✧ have been known to spend hours in the studio together because they’re both perfectionists and someone decided to leave them unsupervised

[onestowatch]

Your Grandparents Manifest a Cinematic, Soulful Debut Album With ‘Thru My Window’  [Q&A]

Photo: Jordan Perez

Inspired by everything from ‘90s boom bap artists like Digable Planets and the Pharcyde to modern funk legends like Outkast and D'Angelo, Your Grandparents have quickly proven themselves to be their generations' torchbearers for the psychedelic soul movement. 

Using a variety of recording techniques to get the desired effect for their genre-blending debut album Thru My Window, the group credits their uniquely cohesive sound to their years-long friendship, which began in their early teens. With their lush grooves, breezy, clear vocals, a sonic aesthetic built on unwavering authenticity, and of course, a deep love for their roots and deep musical traditions passed down from their grandparents, Your Grandparents embodies what it means to be an artist to watch.

Ones To Watch had a chance to talk with the trio, comprised of DaCosta (vocals), Jean Carter (vocals), and Cole, aka ghettoblasterman (producer), to discuss their inspirations and the long days and nights that went into creating their debut album.

When you last spoke to Ones To Watch, it was for the release of your single "So Damn Fly," and now, a year later, here we are talking about the release of your debut album, Thru My Window. How are you all feeling, and what have you learned about yourselves in this last year through the album-making process?

DaCosta: From a personal outlook, I've learned that making music is heavily dependent on my mood, or just how I'm feeling and what's going on in my personal life. When things are a little too stagnant, it's a little harder to write. On the other hand, when things are flowing, and life is being lived, it's easy fuel. It's good fuel. It doesn't burn too quickly.

GBM: I've learned that no idea is too wild. It's usually less wild than I think it is.

Jean: Yeah, it's better to start at the extreme and take away. I realized I feel like a lot of artists feel like they have to put themselves through turmoil or allow certain situations to write meaningful things. Like it's not necessarily good music, but it's something that means a lot to them. I think I realized that that's not the case and inspiration comes in many different forms. It could be a person or something completely random and inanimate that makes you feel something.

What were some of those inspirations?

Jean: Definitely films.

GBM: A lot of films!

Jean: Yeah, we're all pretty big film people. We do all our own videos pretty much, and it just comes from this love of film that we've had that got nurtured in high school. We were blessed enough to have a really dope film program that Sony funded and stuff, and so we got like an impromptu film education before we graduated. So by the time we graduated, we knew how to get our own projects done without reaching out to someone else and then taxing us because they want to hire their friends and all that stuff. So because of that, we had complete creative control. I've also been watching a lot of Korean movies lately. Not during the album—wait, actually, during the album, there were a lot of old kung fu movies and blaxploitation movies from, like, the ‘70s. Also, my friend got me this Curtis Mayfield record, and "So Damn Fly" is definitely heavily influenced by that whole record.

GBM: I feel like the ‘70s in general, the ‘60s and ‘70s, definitely had a big inspiration on the aesthetic and the kind of sound we were going after. Especially with "So Damn Fly" and "Tomorrow" and those kinds of songs.

Do you feel like this album has a linear story the same way a film does, or do you feel like it's more of an anthology of the band's personal experiences?

GBM: It's kind of a mix of both.

Jean: Yeah, it started off as an anthology, and then we pieced together the story, which was largely done by Cole by sitting there and being like, “Hmmm.”

DaCosta: Yeah, it was a lot of Cole dissecting the words and putting them on the tracks.

Jean: When we're writing the words and trying to be free-flowing and expressive and stuff, we're not fully conscious of a bigger picture situation. Instead, Cole is sitting there producing everything and putting in the music and being just more of a listener than anyone else could. So he has the context, and he could find a story that we didn't know we were doing together with our three minds and in our three different lives.

GBM: It's like a puzzle almost, because I'll be sitting there at like 2 a.m. in my bed, listening to the songs, and I'm like, "Ok, Kyle said, that in the hook, so this song has to go before that," and so on and so forth. It's like a storyboard kinda.

Right, to keep the record's "plot" cohesive and self-referential.

GBM: Another big consideration was playlists. I love making playlists, and I know Kyle loves making playlists, too, so it needed to flow. It just has to flow. We didn't want songs that juxtapose each other or have opposite vibes be back to back.

DaCosta: Yeah, I think we even switched around the playlist a couple of times before we had it set in stone.

GBM: There were like fourteen songs originally, and then we got talked down to ten.

Jean: Fourteen tracks woulda went crazy!

I'm sure fans would love a deluxe version of the album at some point! So what were some of the rough draft ideas before you set these ten tracks in stone?

Jean: There were more modern-sounding tracks. The more time we spent on a project, and this being our debut, we wanted to be true to the name. We wanted to be true to the artistry that had gotten us to this point.

DaCosta: There were a couple of heavier hip-hop tracks there too.

Jean: We had been doing that, and a lot of people haven't even heard those because they're like heavy hip-hop stuff from when we were in high school and like early college.

Were there any tracks on the record that challenged you?

Jean: "Intoxicated" challenged me. I had a whole different verse. The conception of that song—I was just venting about whatever I was going through at the time, and one of my homies was like, "It's not sexy enough!" So I was just like, "What? No! I've done sexy stuff on all the other songs. Just let me vent!" So I tried another verse, and we ended up going with that one instead.

DaCosta: I mean, it worked out great though...

Jean: I mean, yeah, it sits nicely on the song, and now I have a verse for something else one day when it's time for it.

GBM: Yeah, that song went from being all of ours and everyone on our team's favorite song to our least favorite song. I will say that recording the instruments for the album was fun, but there were definitely some long hours. We had a drummer and bassist come through, and they played for like twelve hours straight doing all the songs. So the songs that have live drums on them were all done in that one day, and they even did songs we recorded that didn't make it on the final record. I think we started at 1 p.m. and we ended at 1 a.m. It was crazy.

What song are you most excited for people to hear when the album drops?

Jean: I think people are gonna like "Comfortable" a lot. Honestly, I haven't listened to the record in a while because it's existed in our world for a minute. We had just posted the visuals for that song today, and I was feelin it.

DaCosta: I think people are gonna really like "Digest." For me, it gives me that "it" factor.

GBM: I think "Red Room." It's my personal favorite and one of the more fun ones to me. It's just a good time!

You mentioned earlier that you try to maintain creative control when making your music videos and coming up with concepts for visualizers. What is your creative process like?

DaCosta: We definitely sit down, and we go through everything from storyboard to shotlist and just take and grab inspiration from all over the place. For "So Damn Fly," there was that That 70's Show shot where they're all sitting around the table, and it's spinning. So there are all types of really cool influences, and we just try to use those and make everything unique to us.

GBM: I think we kind of go through a three-step verification. The idea has to go through all three of us before it becomes something else or moves on to actually being tested out or put into picture. So that kind of attributes to the very solid identity we aim for.

It sounds like that impromptu film education you mentioned earlier has really set you up for success in creating your videos.

Jean: Yeah. My high school film teacher, Miss Butler, I took that class for two years, and then when I couldn't take it anymore, I became a TA. So then I took the after-school class, and I just spent hella hours pretty much ruining the way I enjoyed cinema and teaching myself like—she would have us look and watch these classic movies and be like, this is what they did wrong.

Can you give me an example of a classic film you would watch and critique?

Jean: The first one that comes to mind is Rear Window. I watched it a few times, just because I had taken the class a couple of times. She talked about how the set that they made and the world that they created, they had full control over. Just seeing older films and how simple things were a lot more complicated then. Like you can't just delete a take and wipe your card. Everything had to be so planned out and so intentional. You gotta do shit on purpose. It's just a lot of thinking and planning, and sometimes, I feel like it's more challenging to have more people involved in a film production sometimes because of the growing degrees of communication. With the small groups that we usually keep, everyone's on the same page as us. All of us took this same class, so we all have a similar workflow.

DaCosta: Yeah, our organization when it comes to films, we're all pretty much on the same page. You know, with what was going to happen, who's doing what, who's in charge of what, etc.

Jean: And pre-production is the biggest thing and finding the right team because we can't shoot it and be in it. Although Cole can somehow!

GBM: I'm in one scene, and I'm like, "I'm just gonna kill this scene right now, and then I'm gonna jump back." That's why I'm only in the last scene.

Because he's doing everything else!

Jean: Yeah! Then as soon as the scene cuts, it's like, I go back to directing people, and Kyle goes back to making sure we got the next shot set up.

GBM: There were only seven people on set.

DaCosta: And four out of seven were crew members

GBM: Yeah, the DP was the only person that wasn't actually a casted character. Everybody else is like multitasking.

You'll be making your first-ever festival appearance at Day N Vegas in November. How are y'all feeling about it? 

GBM: It feels incredible!

DaCosta: I'm so so excited!

Jean: If I get excited, I get nervous. So I just aim to be focused, or I don't think about it at all.

After the release of Thru My Window, what are some long-term or short-term goals y'all are manifesting?

Jean: I think for the next album, I want it to get Best Rap Album. We went R&B on this one, but nobody knows the way that we—like yes, we rap on it, but nobody knows our actual rap potential. So I feel like that's something that needs to be lived out on the next project. It's been a minute since we were rapping, bro. There are cool people out here doing the rap thing right now, but not many people have impressed me.

GBM: I kind of want this album to open up the door to doing a lot of travel. When we got back from Paris in 2019, what we experienced during that summer gave us fuel to start this project. So I feel like if we just keep that kind of like tradition going, we just travel somewhere and just make stuff, I think it'll never get steered wrong.

DaCosta: I think I want the album to just open up doors in general. I know it's kind of a broad thing, but like, we're so diverse, and between the three of us, we can do literally anything I think in the world if we put our minds to it, and we kind of plan on doing everything that we want to do. So, I kind of want this album to open the door just so that we can you can start striding towards whatever, whether it's directing movies and videos and fucking scoring—

Jean: Or directing other people's videos!

DaCosta: Yeah, all types of shit.

Thru My Window is available everywhere you can stream it. 

[ambitionsource]

hi can we get some zaley friendship headcanons whenever you're free? ☺️

im not the best at headcanons just bc of the way my brain functions but im gonna do my best for you, sunny my friend. let’s go zay and riley let’s go!

thrift shop buddies!! one of the most common ways that they hang out is definitely going thrifting. considering they arguably have the two most eclectic wardrobes on the show, this makes sense. esp i fully believe they’re the perfect people to thrift shop with where they encourage each other to try on everything, even if it seems outlandish (and sometimes even more in those moments). that’s the only way to really get some good finds! and i feel like, beyond S1, when they wear items for performances in the show that are clearly unique / seem thrifted, it’s more than 50% likely the other helped them pick it out at some point

on this note, i think that they both have really good senses of what looks good on the other bc they spend this time together, probably better than anyone else (yes, including their significant others. not that that’s hard, since both of their significant others have notoriously bland fashion). like even when theyre not out together i can totally imagine them seeing something and being like “oh this is so riley / zay” and getting it for each other. they know each other’s sizes and have like an ongoing swap credit system gfJSKHJDLFH

riley and zay usually run performance by the other person before they perform them for the class / at an audition. like they find a specific time (usually during breakout sessions during class) to get in front of the other person and run them through their concept + do a run-through for them. they just really appreciate the other’s perspective, especially since they tend to complement each other -- zay is able to identify places where riley could heighten things or add some flair or just like... assert her talent more lmao, whereas riley helps zay pull back on some of his more overwhelming instincts when necessary or find the moments to truly lean in emotionally rather than blowing us out of the water the whole time

if we could actually Watch the show, i guarantee 9/10 times when riley or zay is performing, we would cut to the other enjoying the performance. like theyre always bobbing their head along and truly feelin the other’s performances. excellent vibes luv!

i also think they harmonize well with each other, which is why its kind of a shame they dont do more performances together within the context of assignments (as for why, couldn’t tell you... it might just be a weird psychological thing of like i have These people i perform with when it matters and these who are just for fun... like maybe zay and riley tend to see each other as easygoing comfortable duet partners and thats why they try not to overdo putting pressure on it). but yeah they absolutely have days where they just hang out in one of the rehearsal studios and play around on the piano and try to find ways to harmonize on their favorite songs. this is some of the best singing riley ever does, bc its so low stakes and fun

i also think that honestly, zay really helps strengthen riley’s vocals over the time they’re friends -- especially early on. riley is someone with good raw talent but she’s never thought about honing it seriously prior to joining aaa, whereas zay has been on a career mindset since he was little. so he is good at teaching her like small technique things or helping her expand her range and she really values that esp bc hes so selfless about giving it, but it doesnt come off naggy or unnecessary like maya’s advice often does

sometimes it can be hard for them to find songs they both wanna sing though bc their music taste is so different. i think they have like three small categories where their favorites overlap -- select big names (sza, chloe x halle), jazz / old-time crooners (frank sinatra, nina simone, and the like), and select musical theater. but i think this is mainly on zay, bc he’s much more picky about music than riley who will give anything a listen without much nudging. as we know zay likes to pick on his friends’ music taste (like charlie and harry styles / 1d) and i don’t think riley would escape this affectionate teasing. they exchange song recs and riley gives him like her usual piano ballad-y sara bareilles tswift rachael yamagata energy and shes like oh yes, another piano ballad and hes like STOP!!! JUST LISTEEEENNNN GFSJKLHJFDSKLHKDLFH

that said though, they’re definitely go-to friends when it comes to like checking out a new local artist or coffeeshop open mic nights. this is probably a typical zay / riley / yindra outing

zay doesn’t spend a ton of time watching tv bc “he has better things to do with his time,” but riley and zay are definitely the type to watch a show together. like not always Together, but they’ll try to keep up with each other so that they can talk about it (and riley has to try really hard not to keep binging and get way ahead of zay). theyre good at this bc they can have really intense and opinionated conversations about it but in a way where its like safe and neither of them feel like theyre actually being judged / are stupid if they disagree (something thats not common for riley, and zay usually is trying to discuss media with super strong personalities who aren’t great at Debating).

in general, though, they tend to agree on favorite characters / relationships. for example, they both hate rachel berry -- which always gets maya and farkle extremely heated if they’re around. i can only imagine why...

they’re also definitely safe-space vent people for each other. they don’t use the privilege all that often bc i think both of them try to like keep their cool and not get hung up about things, but if they really just have to pop off about something they know they can go to the other person and they’ll actually Listen and keep it under wraps rather than either spilling it to everyone else and/or immediately trying to problem solve rather than just listening to the Emotions. and it’s helpful bc for the most part, their friends don’t actually really overlap that much, so they don’t really like harbor the emotions the other person unloads on them or let it affect their dynamics with other people? like riley can talk about dasher and zay can talk about yingel without it having any ripple consequences bc theyre different circles.

for example, i can totally see riley talking to zay about how she feels like -- at first -- asher doesn’t really like her and won’t really let her in and like he doesn’t want her to join the friend group (even tho that isn’t really true). like she can’t talk to dylan about it bc she’s not going to put him in that position and she’s not foolish enough to think that’s a good idea, she can’t talk to lucas about it bc he like doesn’t get stuff like that gFJKHGLFJSDLH and also he has such a set impression of asher it would be hard for him to understand it from her perspective. zay has none of that, so hes a good person to listen to her nerves about it.

the only times this gets kind of complicated / janky is in the midst of zay x charlie stuff where riley is kind of unintentionally (or, sometimes, intentionally) in the middle. like, zay trusts her not to go telling charlie what he says about him, but he knows they’re good friends too, and its an awkward position to put her in. but still, i think when zay is really hurt or frustrated he’ll snap sometimes and just vent out all his anger about charlie to riley in one foul swoop, and she’ll just absorb it like a sponge without judgment and then not bring it up again. but you can also see little ways where this puts pressure on their friendship, like how when he was drunk in 304 zay expressed resentment towards the fact that riley also talks to charlie and sometimes he feels like she puts him first, even though that isn’t true. it’s just..... a very very complicated (and interesting, if emotional) situation with that trio.

that being said, when things are Good, i think that zay feels comfortable talking about his significant others (including charlie) with riley. he doesn’t really get too Detailed about anything personal or anything, but they definitely discussed charlie in s2 in the small window of time where riley knew and zc wasn’t actively imploding LMAO. on the flip side, riley doesn’t really talk to zay about her relationships, but only bc her relationship is lucas GJFSKLJHLKDJHFLDSH. like anyone else she’d be like okay sure this is fine but she knows zay finds lucas annoying 65% of the time and talking about him in a romantic context grosses him out so she respects that LMAOOOO. hysterical

in general, if they’re gonna hang out, they usually go to either a local coffee shop they like (like svorskis) or each other’s houses. its kind of a relief to have a person they can just take anywhere and have around their parents with no trouble at all, considering both of them are used to having a boyfriend who cant be seen in their house (for different reasons). and theyre comfortable enough that like i think when they hang out at their houses, they just spread out in the living area of both bc theyre not hiding anything, its like very lowkey and comfortable

that being said, riley doesnt spend much time in zay’s usual studio at school. most people don’t, its a place zay now likes to be alone (and it feels weird with someone else being there who isnt charlie)

as for how they come off to their families, the babineauxs love riley. jada has met her a couple of times and thinks she’s super sweet + zay could afford to learn a thing or two from her like how to chill the fuck out (cue zay going shut the fuck up). donna is excited that zay has another friend who isn’t batshit intense about stuff like maya / farkle, she figures yindra has the diva best friend role covered and zay needs more friends like nigel and riley to ground him. she’s right about this.

cory likes zay, but he also does have some prejudices from the teaching perspective about how zay doesn’t pay attention in class half the time and blows off his assignments -- but this isn’t partially because cory isn’t a great teacher and his assignments suck. so the feeling is mutual, tho zay gets along better with cory in a neutral, polite sense than say, asher and dylan, where it’s like guerilla psychological warfare. topanga has no opinion about zay bc riley doesn’t introduce her friends to her (wisely).

they’re still very common lunch buddies. essentially when riley isn’t eating with the techies (which is only when lucas is there usually) or bothering lucas in the booth once a week, she’s with zay (which usually also means nigel, yindra, and farkle, though not always)

ultimately, i think that when someone asks riley who her best friend is, her mind will always jump to zay first. not even because theyre necessarily the closest at any given time, but because he really was her first life raft at aaa and he extended that kindness to her in a moment where she was so used to being brushed aside, talked over, ridiculed -- and you don’t forget that. it stays with you. so when she thinks about her Best Friend, speed round answer, he will always come to mind first. i think she greatly admires his skillful balance of confidence and compassion, his sarcastic sense of humor, the way he gets so passionate about dance and music and how these elements come together, and his inarguable kindness that is at his core and so fundamental to everything he does (even when his more known reputation is a bit more barbed and witty).

on the flip side, i think riley came into zay’s life at the exact moment he needed it. we know he felt isolated in s1, and even though i think he thinks of nigel and yindra as his first-to-mind best friends, riley was a breath of fresh air who allowed him to be himself with someone who wasnt going to judge him on past decisions or impressions. just like he gave her the chance to define herself in his eyes with his extension of company on that first day, she does the same for him by not making assumptions about him and learning who he is on their terms. i think she’s also just a really great, measured system of support -- she’s not busting his balls or keeping him in check like yindra and nigel do (except when its really needed, like 304), but she isn’t as in awe / romanticized with him like charlie. i think he appreciates that he can go to her for an honest perspective, but she’ll take the care to deliver that honesty in a gentle way. it’s like, he’s tough enough to take a hit, but sometimes its nice to know you have someone who will be kind with you even then.

that’s what is at the core of their friendship overall. kindness.

-- Maggie