#seriously big love to the talented beans who allow me to use their works

[nerditudes]

any and all fanart made icons on this blog are used WITH PERMISSION from the artists and with credit on my CREDITS page. i've got a slew of zoom & modern era cartoon icons care of FAB artists that have granted permission for its use.

my current header is ALSO credited there and permission was given.

credit artists whose art you use for icons

[sugar-petals]

Can u introduce yuzuru to us the caro way?👀

so you want to know about the one and only. ♡😌

yuzuru hanyū (25) of sendai, japan: the most beautiful ice prince with a heart of gold.

….an artist clearly not of this world, he’s been sent to us from another realm. 19 world records, two olympics won, dubbed the greatest figure skater of all time. and the most precious bean on top of that.

but let’s start from the beginning, shall we ♥︎

so, want to spot yuzu on the ice? use this checklist. slender silhouette, an even slimmer waist, feather-like outfits (he sketches those himself; the fandom lovingly calls him swanyu), soft blushy face. he has great androgyny.

outside of performances, you see him either with a deer’s gaze or the brightest, biggest eye smile. also, he’s usually found sitting with his wife: 

which is the ice 😄 these two are together forever. you can discern yuzu from a mile away by how he treats his working ground. 

there is a purity to him. you’d not guess that this is one of the most ardent athletes if you didn’t see what’s around his neck after competitions. the guy’s cuteness is as compelling as his skating technique.

look for it: yuzu’s face is super suave and rosy up close, even after his most energetic performances. some men are handsome, others pretty, he is both. 

even acoustically, he’s hard to miss. applause is all around, and he’s highly expressive. if you see a crying young man getting the high score, that’s yuzuru hanyu. you’ve not seen more beautiful happy tears.

and score reactions, anyway:

so, aye loves, the rumors are true. a cutie-pie off the ice, animated, a real unabashed meme — yuzu is easy-going, talkative. cheery, cheeky, one of a kind. his facial expressions are a league of their own.

if you thought this is the sort of guy who watches cat videos, you are correct 😄

yuz-uwu hanyu, everybody:

his undoubtedly feline behaviour is often unexpected, it stands out with its adorableness, too. a sweetheart par excellence. 

and, how else could it be: vice versa, the big beast on the rink. he’s cutesy, dorky, very well-spoken in daily life, but when it comes to skating, his seriousness escalates. you blink once and suddenly hanyu is a bedazzling, strutting lion :’D his performances stun with confident elegance.

he becomes full of ardor, drama, and focus. you’d never suspect so much fire burns in him. a showman and ambition icon, hands down. 

his skating is dynamic, perfected, and emotional. if you want to see art and the extra mile, tune in when hanyu competes.

the downside is; more light, more shadow. it leaves him crawling on the ice afterwards. yuzu performs so hard, it’s worrying.

he delivers it all. you won’t believe it:

this guy is an asthmatic.

the symptoms aren’t as bad as they used to be, but there are still regular attacks. he said that he’ll never take it as an excuse and often recalls how he started skating because of it. he’s a badass, extremely inspiring. yuzuru defies all limits, including gravity. his jumps have legendary status. 

off the rink, you guessed it: he turns into a wholly different person. 

it all dissolves completely when he’s dorking around again. 

don’t let it deceive you, he’s the no other option than first place type. he could not be any more decorated with titles, he achieved the grand slam in all competitions as of 2020. and still, king of sportsmanship hanyu is respectful and smiley towards all colleagues and never lets anyone feel left out. especially when it comes to his juniors (e.g. yuma kagiyama, 16, below) which says a lot about him.

he bows in every direction before an audience, too. lower than a 90° angle, even. this is more polite than any existing formality in japan.

talk about audience: i introduced fellow japanese skater shoma uno last week, who’s more uncomfortable with social contact and aggression. yuzu, extrovert he is: the exact opposite. he withers away with no people and competition. he’s befriended rivals, had crises over not having someone who could challenge him. when a competitor retires, he’s the one crying in their arms (e.g. with team mate and bff javier fernandez from spain below).

beside his competitive spirit and princely wow factor, hanyu is popular for his winnie pooh tissue box that he caresses, squeezes, and carries everywhere. he loves good luck charms & rituals, pooh is the most important one.

fans throw pooh plushies on the ice after his performances because of it. since it’s gotten so intense, yuzu recently started cleaning them up himself on top of the flower girls for the upcoming skater who could get delayed otherwise. (more about what happens with the piles of plushies later.)

so, the burning question is. 

what made yuzuru hanyu emerge so outstanding an entertainer? how does someone causing so much uproar become like that? it’s not just what kind of appearance he was given, although he really looks his part to a T. you don’t have to be an insider to see it right away.

like literally to a fault. and you can tell the way his blades sound on the ice is different. it’s soft even if he does the most hardcore quadruple jumps. i think it’s because his drive to do this is a higher one, hanyu has an altered relationship with the ice. where his devotion comes from has a more severe reason so, massive trigger warning. 

this is no exaggeration: yuzuru is considered a hero to the japanese. a survivor of the earthquake 2011, he narrowly escaped the collapsing rink in his hometown on that very day. he’s often talked about how the ice shattered underneath his feet and it was the moment that defined his life forever. he could have been dead by the age of 16. his motivation has been set ever since. this man is compelled by something bigger, that’s why you hear it and you feel it. he wants to skate not just for himself but others and seize every day. 

much of his copious charity work — that’s where all the pooh plushies go — went to mend the consequences of the tsunami ever since, he’s looked upon as a great hope in japan. the minister gave him the people’s honor award in 2018. 

now you know why yuzuru has such a fanbase and treats the ice as sacred, you see it in every gesture. his manners are without a single flaw, he helps staff repair the ice after performances. 

you might think it’s odd, but he honors the ground. he’s invested in the integrity of it. that’s why he’s the best skater. it’s gratitude and the will to live fully.

he hates to fall on the ice, he hates to damage it. alongside his feathery weight, that’s why the sound he makes while gliding along is so tender. 

i think that’s also why hanyu’s signature element is the ina bauer. it doesn’t rely on brutal force, instead this element slides across the rink like a swan. yeah, oh my god.

it’s his most well-known dramatic move. the way he surrenders into it. 

hanyu’s back arch and perfect split allow him to do elements no other male skaters can. his biellmann spin, for instance. i know, it’s ridiculous.

and those are just two elements of dozens and dozens. hanyu is a kinetic wizard. i highly rec this record-breaking delivery of his olympic program. in front of his home crowd! he’s just… mind-boggling. i live for his smiles here.

exceptional skater, exceptional mentor: it’s time we look at another puzzle piece that made yuzu the way he is. the masterful brian orser is hanyu’s beloved coach. missing gold by just one mistake at the olympics 1988, brian is now committed to give others what he couldn’t have— successfully so.

orser took the ice prince to gold twice, this hasn’t happened in 66 years. brian is the nicest and most supportive pooh carrier and yuzu’s utmost rock. hanyu’s talent rests safely in these hands.

he gets strict about punctuality lmao! but other than that, his guidance is gentle. canadian he is, brian’s courteousness mixes well with yuzu’s politeness. their bond is strong. as. hell. 

brian picked up yuzu from rock bottom several times. most fateful being hanyu’s accident with a fellow skater during competition warm-ups nov 2014. they collided at a high speed, it was unspeakably nasty. yuzu got knocked out for half a minute and had grave breathing problems but still decided to skate on with what later turned out as an almost-concussion. brian was the most worried ice dad in the world that day.

yuzu cried and crouched and bled like mad and my heart has been broken ever since. i hope he never suffers like that again. promise me you don’t search up the video, it’s a harrowing watch like a stab to the chest. sadly enough, hanyu’s body has still been a notorious wreck, esp. ankle issues regularly give him a hard time 😔

it hurts like a bitch with every jump landing but he takes meds and still manages to win, god knows how. sometimes even with crutches on the podium. at his worst, he’s still the best, it’s a tragedy.

he’s been recovering, or always is, but he pushes himself through injuries. his ambition and perfectionism are boundless. the cause is more important to him than his well-being. this is not an easy guy to stan once you see how he sacrifices and self-destructs. so, it’s good someone protects him. 

mostly from himself because nobody has profoundly surpassed hanyu. he has let himself no choice than to contest himself. not even health, only age can stop yuzu. i think that brian understands this ‘curse of a genius’ effect. his mere presence can make hanyu say these rare words:

his two other coaches contribute to that. tracy wilson (left) has proven to understand his playful side the best while ghislain briand (right) helps yuzuru deal with his fears. so you got 3 people taking care of the golden boy. brian once said: “he is very sheltered” and you can see it’s true.

yuzu eased into learning english and communicates well with his coaches. like with everything, he studies hard and often forces himself to speak during interviews to practice. his skills are astounding. his speaking voice is also very soothing, very amicably low and high alike. yuzu is highly intelligent. he always says something eloquent and interesting.

now, privately, hanyu is very much like you’d expect someone so devoted to skating would be like. he doesn’t go out, has no social media, can’t eat nor sleep very well. no cameras allowed during practice. it figures he is attached to winnie pooh, think about it. in the cartoon, pooh is someone who sleeps, eats, and engages with friends plenty. 

these are the things hanyu can’t do, doesn’t have time/energy/incentive for. he is barred from balance in life but can at least admire this little carefree plushie for it. especially because pooh represents eating lots while yuzuru doesn’t have a good relationship with food (he says it doesn’t go well with jumps etc.), hanyu lives vicariously through him. 

what’s more, you have to see how he throws himself onto others and never wants to let go, yuzuru is extremely cuddly. 

to the degree that mere social customs can’t meet how much he really needs. so, what else can he resort to, he loves mascots and plushies. it’s how the tale goes in japan generally, tough work ethic, high responsibility, high pressure, so people turn to cute fluffy things.

he always fondles pooh’s head, even pretends he’s come to life so he has someone to snuggle with. i think that his isolated lifestyle doesn’t help. so, he gets his affection at least there, you can see how happy it makes him. and again: he does this all for charity.

that’s why fellow skaters are so important to hanyu. it really brings out his social spirit and comforts him best, it’s so wholesome. i’ve not seen someone react so relieved to being embraced, like he’s not been touched for months. skating this, skating that. at the end of the day, hanyu wants love.

as he once said, what motivates him is to express himself in the first place. hanyu is a romantic. it’s written all over him. it reflects in his music choices, his elegant motion, how he designs his outfits:

… and how thoughtfully he talks about marriage. he has big plans for starting a family and coaching after he retires. i won’t be the only one squeezing lucky charm pooh in my imagination so it turns out well for him. please make this heart of gold heal and see all his wishes come true ♡🐻

[toloveawarlord]

can you tell us a bit about your ikevamp ocs?

*crackles knuckles* Alright, but hear me out. I have currently 15 ocs (13 of them being children but is anyone surprised?) I will certainly be creating suitor specific ocs, but those typically come knocking at my door whenever I am playing a route so it’ll be a few days before I get any of those. 

This is gonna be long so strap yourselves in fam.

I’ll start off with the first OC that I wanted created and that is *drum roll*

1. Amelia Earhart! 

I wanted to have at least one oc that is history based like the rest of the bitey boys, and through my research, I settled on her. Or rather, she flew her airplane right into my oc pile and said “pick me! pick me! I am amazing!” and thus she was the first oc for Ikevamp. 

Amelia or “Melia” as she goes by at the bar she owns in town, was plucked from her time by the Count after her final flight when she disappeared from time itself. In this story, she crashed at her destination but was seriously injured. The Count turned her into a vampire and then took her back to the mansion

I won’t spoil too much or there won’t a reason to write the story, but she ends up moving out of the mansion some time later and opens her own bar, which Arthur frequents as she assists him in finding women who won’t cause a fuss if he drinks their blood. Why did she leave the mansion? Guess I’ll have to write that story soon. 

2. Alara Bayar 

I’m a sucker for kids ending up in the care of the suitors, so I have my little baby Alara. Originally hailing from Turkey, her mother was forced into a marriage with a French noble and Alara came with the two to France. Her step-father barely acknowledges her, and is very cruel to the two. She witnesses an argument that ends in her mother’s death. Attempting to escape her feral step-father, she runs away and finds herself at the mansion late at night. Long story short, they vampire boys take her in as their own child. She was 6 years old when they met her and she has just turned 16 at the present of the game.

And now to get into the kids. Unlike my Ikerev Kids, I’m not planning on doing an origin toddler story for this bunch. I don’t want to run it into the ground. So instead, I’m going to focus on them as teenagers and have some one-shots of them from their toddler days or maybe do some headcannons about them. It’s up in the air at the moment.

Vanessa “Nessa” Bonaparte 

As a child: Generally a happy and good “sister” to the other kids. She typically followed the rules and doesn’t argue with her dad or “Grandpa Count” when asked to do something. 

As a Teenager: Loves swordplay more than any other hobby, sparring and training with her dad is her favorite thing. Attends a public Academy for school and is considered a social butterfly. She has plenty of human friends and cares for them deeply, despite knowing that once high school ends, that she will have to cut them off.

Lyric Mozart (Twin)

As a child: Intimidated by his father’s brilliance and cold nature, he struggled to learn to play the piano. He played the best when doing duets with his twin sister. Began violin lessons at the age of 8. Timid and soft-spoken, he was often left out of play because of his indecisiveness.

As a teenager- Prince Charming, according to his classmates. He solely plays the violin now, accompanying his sister as she plays the piano. He won as President of the Student Council as a second year student at the Academy. He is kind and thoughtful of his fellow students, but keeps the humans at arms length, afraid of rejection because of him being a vampire.

Aria Mozart (Twin)

As a child- Innate talent with the piano, reading musical composition was easy for her, but she struggled to play with how small her hands were. Much more outgoing than her brother, dragging him along with her when playing with the other kids. Vies for her father’s approval more than her twin.

As a teenager- More introverted and focused on her craft. She has a strained relationship with her father, feeling inferior to his skill and pours her energy into catching up with him. Tends to be a loner at school, spending most of her time in the music room, practicing. She struggles with her own identity as a musician.

Emery Newton

As a child- Overly curious and sneaky in nature. She blamed any and all accidents that happened in the mansion on Vanessa, knowing that if she played the cute and innocent card that she would not get in trouble. This only fueled her behavior to play pranks and cause mischief in the home.

As a teenager- Currently suspended from the academy for blowing up the science laboratory. She did it to spite the teacher who she claims is ill-qualified to teach them. She is currently studying along side her father, preferring this to school as she finds school dull and boring. Skips class often whenever she does attend.

Owen Da Vinci 

As a child- Ring leader of the kids. If they all played together, he made the rules and was the only one who could change them. Hated losing and would bend the rules so that he could win. Could be a bit of a bully if things weren’t going his way.

As a teenager- Exudes charm and is always surrounded by both girls and boys. He competes in horse races and is the captain of the school team. He drinks the blood of some of his classmates but uses a drug to put them into a fog so that they don’t remember. 

Alaina Conan Doyle 

As a child - Cried all the time for attention. Thick as thieves with Emery. The two were practically inseperable.The biggest troublemaker of the girls. Even as child, her blood lust was hard to control. She couldn’t enter a public school until high school. Her thirst was easy to quench as a child, since she couldn’t drink that much blood. 

As a teenager- Attends the academy but has to take a bottle of blood with her to sip on throughout the day. she calls them her smoothies to help with a “health condition”. In her first year of school, she killed a classmate by accident and was nearly banned from returning. Loves to play around with humans, especially timid boys. She cuts them to drink the blood without biting. 

Clarisse Van Gogh

As a child- Pure flower child. She loved being outdoors and in nature. She would often get lost in the forest chasing after a butterfly and would have to constantly be watched when outside. She likes to play with her dad’s paints and would rather spend time with him than playing games with the other kids. 

As a teenager- Still a pure bean. Her classmates refer to her as an airhead and gullible. She makes good marks in class but is typically doodling or daydreaming during lessons. She is willing to help anyone out no matter how busy she is. Paints a lot of abstract things, simply adding color and strokes based on her feelings. 

Malachi Van Gogh (Twin)

As a child- Big brother to his twin and his cousin. He often bumped heads with Owen if the other child ever tried to pick on the other two Van Goghs. He especially cared for Clarrise, because he could tell she could not fend for herself at all. 

As a teenager- Wary of humans. He did not attend the academy until Clarisse did, joining a second year when she was in first. He has no interest in art, but has a deep love for baking. He makes the lunches for all the kids attending school.

Knox Van Gogh (Twin)

As a child - Constantly felt like he had to compete for his brothers attention. He could be intentionally mean to Clarisse but regretted instantly because of her soft nature and she never got upset with him. He cried easily.

As a teenager- Bad boy, loner. He is the only child not attending school. He tends to wander at night, getting close to humans. He finds them fascinating in how they don’t sense danger lurking around them as a vampire would. He sometimes steals Clarisse’s art and sells it for cash.

Katsuro Dazai

As a Child- Quiet and introverted. He prefers to read books and play alone. He questions everything in his path, trying to find the meaning behind it. His favorite things to play with was sand. 

As a teenager- Still relatively quiet. He spends most of his time with Clarisse, either reading or writing while she paints. He follows her around at school, not conversing with other classmates. He finds her light to be so blinding that he can’t help but be near her.

Nina Shakespeare 

As a child- Nina was locked away in her room until the age of 8, not allowed out or allowed visitors other than her father. Developed an imaginary friend that she kept even as she grew older. When she was finally allowed out into the mansion, she hated the other children out of jealousy and lashed out often.

As a teenager- Aloof at school and unapproachable. Many of classmates are afraid of her. She absolutely despises discussing her father’s works as she blames him for her horrible and lonesome childhood. She creates dark and tragic stories to reflect her own feelings towards the world. Nina cannot connect with her classmates because she fears them rejecting her and leaving her alone.

Nico Moreau (The Count’s Son with his mother's maiden name)

As a child - Curteous and inclusive, he always tried to keep the peace among the kids. Never a fussy child. He did whatever was asked of him and thoroughly respects his father. 

As a teenager- Keeps up with all the happenings at the school, especially anything related to the other vampires. He is the one tasked with making sure that Alaina doesn’t kill any other students. He is suspected to be the next student council president after Lyric graudates as his classmates find him to be gentle and kind and very smart. He hides his own bloodlust well. He falls only 3rd behind Alaina and Owen in thirst level, but he has the most self control.

Lucien D’Arc

As a child- A follower of the other kids. He never stood out, and was called lazy most of the time. The only game he ever excelled at was hide and seek, and he  loved to be the seeker, feeding off the others fear of being found. Had a tendency to harm small animals. 

As a teenager- Learned sword play but finds it tedious and dull. Has a sadistic side. He loves human girls because of the smell of their blood when they are frightened. Rarely follows through with drinking their blood, finding satisfaction in bringing them to the brink of breaking from their fears. 

The kids are all going to the academy under the family name Moreau so that no one questions their original surnames. 

The kids are not set in stone fully, as they might get more siblings or they might slightly change. 

And there you have it! All my current ocs for the game! 

Let me know which ones you are most interested in! ^_^

-Ruka

[let-it-raines]

I'm going to follow the "it's the time for giving" motto of that annon and give you my love and admiration, because you and your writing always brighten my day. Also, could I ask for a CS fic where someone walks by a street musician every day in her way to work and she always bring him coffe and something to eat because she thinks he's poor and could use some help, but actually he's like a super star and just plays in the street for fun? 😘

Hi, Anon! Thanks so much for your kind words! They brighten my day, and I really appreciate you and want to give you all of my love and admiration! I love this idea, and I really hope you like this prompt answer!

She’s not exactly sure how it started, but she stops by The Bean (yeah, she knows it’s a cheesy name for a coffee shop but it’s better and cheaper than Starbucks) and buys two cups of coffee five days a week. One is black, the bitter smell of the hot liquid invading her senses, while the other is full of sugar and milk, really more of a latte than anything. But she’s never been a fan of coffee alone. She likes when it’s mixed in with sweets, and she can get her sugar and caffeine fix all at once.

If she has to walk a few extra blocks to burn it off, it’s worth it.

So she buys two cups, walks out of The Bean, and makes her way to the office, her heels tucked away in her purse while her feet are clothed in white tennis shoes to walk the New York streets. She looks like every movie cliché of a New Yorker, but she doesn’t care. She’s not crazy enough to wear heels while walking (and walking and walking) through crowds to get to work.

The sounds of horns honking, people talking, tires screeching, and buildings being repaired with the loudest drills imaginable fill her ears for a few blocks until things start to get quieter and calmer, Manhattan someone feeling a little peaceful. And like every morning, she hears a guitar being expertly plucked and a melodic voice singing along to a song from at least half a century ago, and she smiles at the familiar, wonderful sound.

The source of the music comes into sight when she turns the corner and passes the thirty-third street subway station. She could have swiped her metro card and ridden here, sure, but she’s got to work off the latte (and maybe the pizza she ate last night). Plus, she likes watching the people, tourists mixed with locals, and all of the different cultures being combined. She’s not saying New York City is the greatest city in the world, but it’s got to come close with the way it’s like walking through different countries and cultures all in one day.

Today’s apparently a Frank Sinatra day for her favorite street performer, a fitting choice for New York City, and she can already feel herself humming along as she gets closer and closer to him. Today he’s got on an old Yankees cap, the blue edges fraying on the side, as well as his usual jeans with worn out holes in the knees and his trusty black leather jacket that he must take expert care of for the condition it’s in. He smiles when he sees her, nodding his head in acknowledgment, but not stopping his playing. He’s really brilliant, could probably be somebody if he wasn’t a street musician in an area where it’s mostly poor recent graduates and curry restaurants, but life isn’t fair and sometimes the talented don’t get their big break.

When she checks her watch, she realizes she doesn’t have time to stay and listen or chat, as they sometimes do, so she carefully places his black coffee down next to his guitar case, flashes him a smile, and is then off to work.

And so goes nearly every morning of her life.

Tuesday he sings the songs of Elvis. She gives him his coffee.

Wednesday it’s the Beatles, his one voice somehow capturing some of the magic of all of theirs. She gives him his coffee.

Thursday it’s Bing Crosby. She gives him his coffee.

Friday he jams out to the Backstreet Boys. She gives him his coffee and a tip for making her laugh before eight in the morning on a Friday after a long week of work.

Her weekend passes as normal, time spent doing laundry, buying groceries, cleaning, and going out with her friends on Saturday night, and on Monday, she buys her two cups of coffee and makes her way to work. She gets to Murray Hill, expecting to see her musical coffee acquaintance, but he’s not there.

And he’s not there on Tuesday or Wednesday or for the next two weeks. After week one, she stops buying the coffee, having to tell her regular barista she doesn’t need it. She gets a pitying look, something she does not appreciate it, and she carries that awful feeling in her gut on her way to work and every time she takes a sip of her own coffee. It’s ridiculous how one little change in her day can affect her so much, but she’s a woman of routine. She likes doing the same thing at the same time, and her British street singer not being there is throwing her off in the mornings.

She wonders if maybe he got a job, something that takes up his mornings. She doesn’t really know what he did to begin with, if he even had a job. She’s always kind of assumed he didn’t have one or maybe he worked gigs at night along with his street performances. He’s a nice looking guy, stunning blue eyes and a neatly trimmed beard that covers a defined jaw, and his hair is always cleanly cut. So he definitely spends time on his appearance and has the funds to do so, but she doesn’t know many people who have well-paying jobs and spend their mornings performing on the streets.

He’s a mystery, one she thinks about far too much on her strolls to and from work, and as the days pass, she wonders where her Mystery Musical Man has gone off to.

But then one day, music blaring in her headphones, she’s walking her same path, one coffee cup in her hand, and she sees him strumming along on his guitar. She’s a little early this morning, so even though she doesn’t have his coffee, she stops and listens to him playing a majorly stripped down version of We Are the Champions.

There’s no one else around, everyone looking past the street performer, so when it’s over, she throws some cash into the guitar case and flashes him a smile before opening her mouth. “Where have you been?”

He quirks an eyebrow, the thick black brow practically reaching his hairline, before he flashes his perfectly white teeth and eyes her coffee mug. “Did you miss me?”

She shrugs, not really sure how to carry on this conversation with a man who is a stranger but also not. “I guess so. I didn’t – I stopped buying your coffee. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, love,” he insists, “I wasn’t around. Wouldn’t want you to waste your money, but I did miss you and your coffee.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. They don’t make black coffee in LA, and they don’t have pretty lasses bring it to you.”

That throws her for multiple reasons, but it’s mostly because he admitted to being in LA…and maybe a little bit that he called her pretty, but she’s going to harbor that secret inside and pretend her cheeks don’t heat. But seriously. What the hell was he doing in LA? Is she even allowed to ask? Is that taking a step too far?

“What a pity,” she says instead of everything she wants to say. “I wonder how you survived.”

“The hardest few weeks of my life honestly. I didn’t think I was going to make it.”She barks out a laugh before talking to him for a few more minutes, only leaving when she absolutely has to get to the office, and while her life feels a little more settled having him back, she’s also full of every question imaginable.

Mostly, what the hell does he do? Why was he in LA for weeks? Why does he perform in such a calm spot when there are better out there? And what is his name?

The next day she buys two cups of coffee, the barista giving her another pitying smile, and she walks her usual walk, dropping the steaming cup off every day. They talk a little more than they used to, but it’s never about anything serious, and she still doesn’t have any answers to any of her questions. If anything, the man is more of a mystery than he was at the beginning, and she doesn’t know what to do with herself.

He’s between songs when she walks up, his guitar resting on his back, and so she hands him his cup instead of placing it on the ground.

“Thank you, love.”

“Yeah, no problem.” She doesn’t know what else to say, the awkwardness somehow filling the entirety of Manhattan. But like the smooth talker she is, she blurts out her next words. “What’s your name?”

He’s in the middle of sipping on his coffee when she asks, so she impatiently watches him drink the liquid, his throat bobbing, and it takes a hell of a lot of restraint to hold herself back from just running away.

“Killian,” he finally answers, flashing her a smile. “And you?”

“Do you not have a last name?”

“I do. I just didn’t think you’d care.”

“I care. I’m Emma Swan if that helps.”

“Jones then. Killian Jones.”

Her lips twitch, laughter practically bubbling below the surface. “Did you phrase it that way so you could say your name like James Bond?”

“I guess you’ll never know.”

So now she knows Mystery Musical Man’s name, but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to call him anything else in her head. That’s what she’s called him for months now, and it’s hard to change things. But now he calls her Swan every morning, and it makes her smile. Of course, it’s only after a few weeks that she realizes he likely knew her name because it was on all of the coffee cups. But she kind of finds it endearing that he never used her name without her permission.

It starts with an exchange of coffee, and the floodgates open when there’s an exchange of names. Every day is nearly the same, but when she hands him his coffee, he calls her Swan and makes an extra effort to interact with her. Sometimes he even messes with lyrics, changing the names around to fit hers, and it brightens her day so that work doesn’t seem so dreary. As the days pass, they talk more and more. She wakes up earlier to buy their coffee so she can get to Murray Hill faster, and they talk until she absolutely has to go to work, his musical stylings lessening as they get caught up in talking to each other, learning a bit more about the other.

She tells him she’s in family law, and he tells her he’s a musician. She doesn’t quite understand that, really wanting to know what he does outside of performing on the street, but he never says more. If he doesn’t want to share, that’s perfectly fine. The only reason she’s sharing things about herself is because this is a man she talks to for fifteen minutes a day and who likely will move his spot somewhere else more populated to make more money.

But he never moves. He’s always there, and if he’s not going to be, he tells her the day before. All of the changes become part of her routine, and she becomes quite fond of her daily chats with Mystery Musical Man Killian Jones.

And then one day everything changes.

There’s a monsoon raging through New York, water hitting you no matter how bundled up you are in your rain boots and coats and umbrellas. The streets are as full of water as they are of people, and as much as she logically knows there’s no way Killian’s going to be performing today, she still stops in The Bean and goes to buy her coffee.

“Hey, Hannah, can I get the usual?”

“Uh, the guy in the gray beanie over there,” she points to the corner of the shop where there’s a man bundled up in plaid and jeans with the aforementioned beanie on, “he already bought your orders. Is that the boyfriend you’ve been buying coffee for all this time?”

“No boyfriend,” she answers automatically, still staring at the man to see if it’s Killian. She can’t tell from this angle. “But I’m gonna go see who this guy is.”

She nods to Hannah before walking away and walking toward the man in the corner. He’s pretty well hidden, which she finds suspicious until she gets a good look at his profile and can tell that it’s Killian. Her tense shoulders relax, and she sighs in relief before unceremoniously plopping down in the seat across from him.

“So you stalking me now?” she jokes as blue eyes look up to meet her. “Because I’ve got to say, I’m not sure the coffee I bring you every morning is worth all of the hassle.”

His hand reaches up to scratch behind his ear while his eyes crinkle as he gives her a lopsided grin. “I’m not stalking you. I, well, I can’t perform in all of this rain, and I still needed my coffee fix.”

“How’d you even figure out it was this store? You know this is a chain, right?”

He shrugs. “Google, some powers of deduction, and a whole lot of luck.”“Well color me impressed Mystery Musical Man.”

Killian barks out a laugh, loud enough that people turn to look at him. “I’m sorry. What did you just call me?”

Heat rises in her cheeks while the rain pours down outside. She’s dramatic, but she kind of wishes she could run away with the rain right now. “Um, nothing.”

“No, no,” Killian teases, leaning over the table and waggling his eyebrows while flashing her another smile, amusement stretched across all of his features, “you called me Mystery Musical Man. Swan, I didn’t know you had a nickname for me.”

“Yeah, well, I went a few months not knowing who you were. What was I supposed to do?”

“Ask me my name.”

“I did…eventually.” He smiles before sliding her coffee over to her, and she accepts it before taking a sip, the liquid cool enough that she knows he’s been here awhile. “So, um, can I ask you a question? And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Sure, love, but I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t tell you unless you’re about to ask me some deep, personal secret like if I’ve ever dyed my hair.”

She snorts into her drink, shaking her head back and forth. “No, no. I’d never ask such a deeply personal question, but I do, um, what the hell is it that you do for a living?”

His brows furrow, and he clicks his teeth. “Didn’t we talk about this already? I’m a musician.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but do you do anything else besides performing before eight in the morning? I know this is rude, but I’m just…curious.”

“Tis not rude. What someone does for a living is basic conversation. But seriously, no. I’m a musician, and I do play more than the mornings. That’s honestly just for fun.”

“So where do you play? I’d love to come see you.” He raises his eyebrows, salaciously smirking at her in a way that makes her cheeks heat again. Is she just going to word vomit everything today? “To see you play. I’d love to see you play.”

“I know what you meant, love. I, um, I haven’t had many gigs lately, but I am playing next Friday night if you’d like to come.”

“Really? Where?”

Killian’s jaw ticks and his eyes look up at the ceiling like he’s trying to figure out what to say. Has she pushed too far? Is she making him uncomfortable? But then again, he told her he’d like for her to come.

“Tell you what, love, I’m going to get you some tickets for you and a friend, and the address will be on them. Does that work for you?”

“It makes you seem like the definition of Mystery Musical Man.”

“Yeah, well, that’s apparently who I am.”

They talk a little more before he walks with her to work, bypassing his regular playing spot and taking her right to the office. She doesn’t know what to say when they’re leaving, but Killian figures that out for her, leaning in and brushing a kiss against her cheek that lights her entire body on fire.

“So how exactly did you score these tickets?” Ruby questions as they walk into Madison Square Garden, people milling around in every direction and making it difficult to find their seats.

“You know the street performer who I bring coffee to?”

“Your Mystery Musical Man?”

“That’s the one.”

“Shit,” Ruby whistles as they find their way into a roped off section, only a few other people in their seats there. “He got you these? How?”

She shrugs, leaning closer to Ruby as the opening act for the White Sails sets up. “I’ve got no clue. He said that he’s performing, and I about flipped out when he gave me the tickets this morning and saw where they were. But I don’t know who the White Sails are, and honestly, I think he’s probably a guitarist for their opening act or something.”

“Do you think he was asking you on a date when he gave you these? Are you sure he’s even performing?”

“He told me to bring a friend so no, and he definitely said he was performing.”

“Huh. Curious. But hey, we get a free night out, so let’s go with it.”

The opening act is pretty good, someone she’s also never heard of, but that’s pretty much par for the course tonight. And Killian is most definitely not up there, so her confusion continues to grow while she tries to figure out what’s going on. Maybe she should have been more direct in her questioning. She’s never that wishy washy at work or with anyone else, but she never wanted to accidentally insult Killian in questioning his job when he may not have one. But he can get her nice seats to a concert in Madison Square Garden, so now she’s really confused.

And she also really wishes he was here so she could talk to him. She barely got to this morning, and they weren’t able to talk about the cliffhanger on The Good Place last night.

The opening act eventually finishes, and instruments on the stage are interchanged before several men, each of them in head to toe black, walk out on stage to the sound of cheers and wolf whistles.

And that’s when she sees him, front and center holding a different guitar with his hair bare of a baseball cap and a presence that’s totally different than the one he usually has while they’re talking on the street.

“Holy shit.”

“I know, right?” Ruby agrees, yelling over the crowd into her ear, “they’re hot.”

“No, Rubes, that’s him.”

“That’s who?”

“The singer, the guy up front.” She points up to him as he fiddles with the tuning of his guitars, “that’s Mystery Musical Man.”

“Holy shit.”

“Hello, everybody,” he begins, the familiar voice booming through the microphone, “I’m so glad you all can be here tonight. I know it’s been awhile since we performed, but it took a bit to get some inspiration for our new songs, though I finally found some lately. So I thank you for being patient with us. I’m Killian Jones, and we are The White Sails.”

Yeah, she needs to sit down or be pinched (or punched really) because all of the coffee has obviously destroyed her brain cells.

She and Ruby make their way backstage after what is a frankly incredible show, and while her brain managed to chill itself out about halfway through the concert, she’s still freaking out because she just doesn’t understand. Why would someone who performs in Madison Square Garden also perform on the sidewalk in Murray Hill? He said it was just for fun but still. And why does no one but her really notice him? Sometimes there’s a crowd, but it just…it doesn’t make any sense.

And she’s still waiting to wake up from whatever kind of dream this is.

But then Killian walks out of a backroom in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with a smile on his face entirely focused on her. He steps toward her, his hand scratching behind his ear, before he’s standing directly in front of her.

She doesn’t know what to say, so she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m sorry I didn’t buy you a coffee.”

He shrugs while he laughs, his lips ticking up on one side. “That’s okay, love. I think maybe you can have a pass this time.” He leans forward and wraps his arms around her, embracing her. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she pulls back, nodding her head and smiling, “that was incredible. You’re incredible. I’m just entirely confused.”

Ruby coughs behind her, and she’s brought out of her confusion and disbelief and a little bit (a lot) of a crush that’s been developing for weeks now. “And this is Ruby Lucas.”

“Nice to meet you, Mystery Musical Man. I came with to make sure my girl wasn’t going to get murdered tonight.”

“Totally understandable,” Killian laughs, shaking Ruby’s hand. “That’s why there were two tickets. To prevent the murder, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” she interrupts, shaking her head back and forth, “I just have a lot of questions.”

“Well, Swan, maybe I have some answers. Do you – ” he looks behind him where someone is calling his name “ – can you and Ruby wait here while I do a bit of quick business?”

“Sure. That’s fine.”

Killian jogs off, running over to whoever was calling him, and she and Ruby sit down on a bench behind them. Ruby fiddles with her phone while Emma tries to think through everything, connecting the nice, normal guy she’s come to really like with the man she saw up on stage commanding thousands of people with his voice. He’s still Killian, that much she knows, and when he said he was a musician, he definitely wasn’t lying. She kind of just thought he performed in bars.

“So according to Wikipedia, your new boyfriend is thirty-four, is from London, and he’s been playing the guitar since he was twelve.”

“I knew all of that, and he’s not my boyfriend.”

“He’s going to be.”

“Ruby.”

“Listen, Ems,” Ruby commands, hitting her in the shoulder, “out of the kindness of your heart you have been buying this man coffee and talking to him every day for months because you thought he was a struggling artist and really appreciated him as a musician and as a person. You like him. He likes you. What he does for a living doesn’t matter. It’s cool as hell, don’t lie to yourself, but it doesn’t matter to you, does it?”

“Not at all.”

“Then I say you take life as it comes to you, and you should go for what you want.”

So she does.

As soon as Killian comes back into view, she walks toward him with a purpose in her step, and before he can say anything, she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. He takes a moment to kiss her back, but when he does, it’s soft and slow, his lips caressing hers while his hands thread into his hair and hers do the same. His whiskers are rough against her chin, and right before she pulls back, he growls, something that nearly makes her keep going as if she doesn’t need air.

But she does, would die without it, and pulls back, putting some space between their lips while their foreheads rest together.

“So the whole being in a band thing really did it for you, huh?”

“No,” she promises, quickly brushing her lips against his again, “I don’t care about that. It’s awesome, but I don’t care.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. All I really want is to buy you a coffee.”

Killian laughs against her lips, the vibrations moving through her. “You know what, Swan? I think I can buy this time.”

She and Killian go get coffee two days later. Killian buys despite her protests, but that’s okay. She buys the next time they go. And it goes on like that for weeks and then months and eventually years. As time goes on, they stop going out to buy coffee. Instead they get their caffeine fixes in their home, and she has several White Sails albums dedicated to her that she listens to on her way to work. It’s not quite the same as getting a live performance right outside the office, but she thinks she may like it better this way.

Actually, she knows that she does. She can get a live performance at home.

[yourfaceislikeabluemoon]

Words: 2579

Warning: None! Total fluff, not even any language!

A/N: I got so carried away with this, wow. It’s the longest one I’ve posted yet. But I hope you like it anyway, anon! I love this baby boy, so I hope I did him justice!

~~~~~

You: I was thinking…

:) Tall Bean: Yes???

You: I wanna learn to play an instrument. I have for a while but I just haven’t gotten around to it. Could you maybe teach me guitar?

You: Please <3

:) Tall Bean: You really want me to teach you??? Yessssss!!!! I’m coming over now!! Don’t move!!

You: Lmao why are you so excited about this?! I’ll be waiting. Be safe, though. Don’t spaz on your way over, dork. <3

:) Tall Bean: I’ll be safe, don’t worry, wouldn’t want the guitar breaking huh :P

Locking your phone screen, you chuckled at your best friend’s hyper nature. You figured he’s say ‘yes’ to your request but you didn’t expect him to seem so excited. Tossing your phone on the couch, you resituated until you were comfortable and turned your attention back to your TV while you waited for Sanha to get to your apartment.

Within ten minutes, your intercom was ringing, prompting you to leap off the couch and run over to stop the incessant noise. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s you! Come on up, crazy!” He stared into the camera, sticking his tongue out childishly before turning and running off, a goofy smile flashing across his face before he disappeared from view. You rolled your eyes, giggling at his antics and went to unlock the door. Opening and leaning against the doorframe, you stared down the hallway, waiting for him to step out of the elevator. His tall frame soon stumbled into the hallway, grin still spread across his lips and laughing away already, seemingly out of breath. He waved eagerly and ran over.

“Hey,” he half-shouted with excitement, holding up his guitar case and shaking it slightly.

You stared at him as he struggled to catch his breath, “What, did you run all the way here?”

He nodded and shrugged, heading inside your apartment, “It’s only like six blocks from the dorms, no big deal!” Sanha plopped down on the couch and took the guitar out of its case.

“Eager much,” you chuckled as you sat down next to him.

He waved you off, laughing, “OK, I’ll show you a few notes and show you the placement for your fingers and then you can try them out yourself. Good?” You nodded and he played the first few notes of “Every Day, Every Moment”. A small smile made its way onto your face as he seemed to forget he was supposed to be teaching you to play and he got lost in the music, his eyes slipping closed and head swaying to the melody he was creating. The first lyrics came out in almost a whisper, gradually becoming louder, and you sat in awe as your best friend performed a mini concert for you on your couch. His voice always took your breath away and you loved seeing him escape into his music. Snapping back into reality when the sound of the guitar ceased, Sanha looked over at you as a slight blush spread of his cheeks, “Oops, I got a little carried away, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize! You’re seriously incredible! You know I love your voice -- I’m definitely not complaining for the mini concert! Thank you, seriously,” you babbled, trying your best to reassure him. His blush deepened and he mumbled a ‘shut up’ under his breath. “Come on,” you teased him softly, poking at his side gently. “You’ve been in a group for a few years now and you’ve performed in front of other people countless times around the world. I’m not the only one who admires you and your talent.”

He whispered a small ‘thank you’ and shook his head, blush slowly fading as a smile appeared on his face again. “I came over for a reason,” he chuckled as he turned to face you better. “Watch my fingers. You start out with an A flat major. First finger goes across like this. Second finger is on the third string here. Third and pinky are next to each other like this. Try to make the shape with your hand first.”

You maneuvered your fingers to match his and he nodded encouragingly, “Right. It sounds like this.” He strummed gently a few times so you could recognize the note.

“Next is an E flat major.” Sanha placed his fingers one by one and you mimicked the shape. He strummed again so you could hear the note.

“Let’s just start with three notes. So last one is an F minor. It’s the same shape as the A chord we just did, just without the second finger. See?” You repeated the shape and he strummed the guitar once more before grinning and handing it to you to try. “Your turn!”

Gently taking the instrument into your lap, you placed your fingers where he had showed you for the A chord to begin with. He nodded when you looked up at him for approval and you gently strummed, the note sounding slightly different from when he played it. Sanha giggled softly and scooted closer to you, wrapping his hand over yours around the fretboard. He pushed down slightly on your first finger, “You gotta put more pressure here. If you don’t, it’ll just muffle the sound of the top one and bottom two strings, which is why it sounded different. If you press down, the note forms properly and it sounds correct.”

You strummed again, lighting up when it sounded right. Sanha smiled widely, “See? OK, try the next one.”

He moved his fingers with yours and you strummed again, getting it right on the first try. “Good! Last one,” he encouraged you softly.

You formed the A chord again and took your second finger off as he instructed, strumming once more as Sanha cheered rather quietly when it sounded right. “Now do all three on your own,” he removed his hand a scooted away slightly.

Taking a deep breath, you played all three notes correctly and amazed yourself. Sanha squealed with delight, clapping and squirming with excitement and pride. “You did it! And your pressure from you first finger was right so it sounded really great! Good job!”

You shook your head, “Eh, it’s just three notes. It’s not that great.”

He placed a hand on your shoulder, “That’s three more notes than before I came over. Come on, be happy with me! It is great!” He bounced in his seat, grinning as a smile formed on your own face. “Why don’t you go through that sequence two more times and then we can move on to the next three notes,” he settled in his seat, watching you intently as you went through the notes again.

45 minutes later, you had successfully gotten the notes down for half of the song. Your fingers were sore and starting to cramp so Sanha offered that you take a break from practicing, taking the opportunity to complain that he was hungry. You ordered takeaway and sat on the couch discussing various things while you waited.

“You know,” he started after a moment of silence, “You’re gonna have to perform a concert for me on my couch when you get the whole song down.”

You giggled and shoved his arm lightly, “OK, but just for you.”

A characteristic mischievous glint flashed in his eyes and you figured that meant he was going to find a way to get his hyungs to hear you play, too. “We’ll see,” he stated teasingly.

Your dinner arrived and you both ate while watching a movie, which, as usual, you ended up not paying much attention to because of all the joking and laughing and commotion you typically caused together.

Sanha fell asleep during the second movie so you got him a blanket and tried to move him from whatever weird, sprawled out position he was in into one where all his long limbs were actually on the couch properly, and tucked him in before going off to sleep in your own room.

The next morning, you found a note on the coffee table, explaining that Sanha had practice he had to go to and he didn’t want to wake you. On the couch sat the blanket you had given him, neatly folded, Sanha’s guitar propped up next to it and a paper laying on top. He had written down the rest of the notes to the song he taught you the day before along with a teasing note at the bottom, “Practice! I love you, dork <3” You chuckled at your nickname for each other, heading to the kitchen to get breakfast before working on the rest of the song.

~~~~~

You: I’m coming over to return your guitar. You better be home :P

:) Tall Bean: I’M EXPECTING A CONCERTTTTTT

You: You can’t see me but just imagine me rolling my eyes at you…

:) Tall Bean: YOU WILL PERFORM FOR ME AND THAT’S FINAL AND YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO ROLL YOUR EYES AT ME YOU JERK

You: Well, if you call me a jerk I’m definitely not playing for you!

:) Tall Bean: I’M SORRY I LOVE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!!!!! <3<3<3

You: Whatever, I’m coming over now…(ily2<3)

Smiling as you locked your phone and tucked it into your back pocket, you grabbed the guitar case and headed for the door. You had a feeling Sanha would somehow find a way for everyone to listen in to you play the song for him so you mentally prepared yourself as you walked the six blocks to the dorms, trying to get over your fear of doing anything in front of people while you were at it.

You: I’m outside, dork.

:) Tall Bean: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

You chuckled at his response and soon enough the front door flew open, Sanha standing in the doorway with a huge grin on his face. “Come in, come in, come in!” he squealed, wriggling around in excitement and ushering you inside the dorm. You entered the empty living room, glancing around for other signs of life besides his own. Nothing. You squinted at him suspiciously. “No one else is home, I swear. I told them all to get out after you texted me. It’s just us, I promise.” He seemed incredibly sincere and gave you a small smile as he calmly sat on the couch and patted the spot next to him.

“Ok, fine.” You sighed, taking the guitar out of its case and sitting next to Sanha with the instrument in your lap. Inhaling deeply, you began strumming the strings gently, playing all the correct chords with the right amount of pressure just as he had taught you. A small smile appeared on your lips when you caught sight of his startled expression as you started to sing the lyrics. You hadn’t told him you’d learned the words as well because you wanted to surprise him. Not knowing if you had that great of a voice or not, you were nervous how it would go, but based on the look on his face you figured you were doing well enough. Sanha’s eyebrows were knit together in focus and he seemed to be listening intently, his lips were slightly parted and his eyes looked a little glossy. His head would move ever so slightly with the music whenever you sang a drawn out note.

You strummed the last few notes of the song and looked over at him, smiling hesitantly. He still had the same look on his face, only it was more emotional and his eyes looked teary. Alternating between nodding and shaking his head, he stuttered, “You...I didn’t...but...umm...wow.” Suddenly, he stood up and started clapping loudly, smiling widely and a tear slipping down his cheek before he hurriedly wiped it away.

“Are you crying?” you questioned, genuinely concerned.

He shook his head forcefully, sitting back down next to you, “No. Ok, well, yeah, maybe a little.” Sanha grinned shamefully as he stared in his lap before looking up and bouncing in his seat. “I’m just so proud of you! And you learned the lyrics! And you sang them so beautifully! I’m just,” he paused, smiling genuinely. “I’m just really happy and proud.”

Blush creeping over your cheeks, you waved him off slightly, “Thanks. I’m not that great. I just really wanted to learn and I’m so glad you could teach me! So thank you!”

“Of course! It was fun, so anytime, I’m totally willing!” he grinned, wiggling again.

“Then maybe, if you want, could you teach me some more?” you asked hesitantly.

Sanha smiled wider, “Don’t have to ask me twice! What next?”

You pondered over what you wanted to learn next as you heard the door unlocking and cacophony of voices pour in. “We brought food!” Jinjin shouted as he carried various bags into the kitchen, the rest of the boys shuffling in obnoxiously.

Sanha stood up from the couch excitedly and you gave him a suspicious, warning look as he bounced in place, “Before we eat, we have a concert to listen to!” You sighed loudly in protest and rolled your eyes. He gave you an ornery smirk as all the boys piled in the living room, eager to hear you play, all obviously already aware of Sanha’s sneaky plan.

Eunwoo noticed the irritated look on your face, “I take it this was not your idea.” When you shook your head, he smiled encouragingly, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You smiled almost to yourself, silently thanking him with just your eyes, before glancing down at the guitar. Bin noticed your more relaxed state and half-whispered, “Please?”

Nodding, you resituated the instrument in your lap, placing your fingers in the shape of the beginning chord, “OK.” You once again began to strum lightly, gradually becoming more confident as the lyrics started to pour from your lips. Too nervous to make eye contact with anyone, you could tell from the lack of other sounds around the room that everyone was focused on you, the occasional quiet gasp coming from one of the boys. As you played the last few notes, they all stood up cheering and clapping just as obnoxiously as Sanha had.

“That was amazing! Why didn’t you tell anyone you could sing like that?” MJ had his hands clasped together, an incredibly shocked look on his face. “Beautiful,” he said quietly.

“Coming from you, that’s, wow, thank you.” You sat leaning over the guitar, thoroughly surprised at his compliment.

“It’s true!” Rocky smiled, resting his head in his hand propped up on his crossed knee, “You play so well, too. It’s like you’ve been playing for years.”

You glanced over at your best friend. He was absolutely beaming and his smile somehow widened as you spoke, “I have the best teacher.”

Subtly wiping another tear from his cheek, Sanha stood up abruptly, gesturing at the kitchen, “OK, food’s getting cold! We should eat now.” The boys all nodded and headed into the other room. “I had them get your favorite. I hope that’s ok.” He over at you as you stood and placed the guitar back in its case.

“That’s fine. Thanks.” You grinned and poked his side, “About your question earlier, I wanna learn an Astro song next. So you can choose one you want to teach me and I’ll learn whatever you choose. I already know all the lyrics anyway so it’ll be easier this time.”

He nodded, smiling to himself, “I have a few in mind.”

[codingpanel]

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Indeed, this IS possible to scrape through using the minimum amount requirements in addition to have that incomprehensible piece of paper within a relatively short time regarding time. Although precisely what do you encourage by yourself in addition to the group in the event that a couple of weeks eventually right after passing ones quiz, you are unable to perform just one observe or even begin to understand an audio lesson by yourself?

When people ask my own learners, "Who seem to is the best instructor?", I need in which question due to a optimistic outlook as if to say, "Seriously, that you are flexible! You will need a very good teacher."

Around the above mentioned instance, when someone enquired in which quick-pass student to experience one thing anf the husband couldn'testosterone, though he or she 'passed' his / her quiz, what makes in which make the instructor seem?

For me personally, I will not be part of the actual quick-pass scheme. My greatest suggestions so that you can you and all of all my own learners is actually, "DON'T DO THIS!"

Just what is the BIG HURRY? Learning is actually an ongoing talent in addition to unless you understand you are going to cease to live shortly, you've obtained time frame! It will be greater to develop the favorable practice of performing items to the very best of ones ability. Doing this, you may be more profitable in everyday life as opposed to always looking for the simple and fast technique out.

Nevertheless, in the event that you will still demand speeding, I will relate you to folks that can love to get your cash though offering you one thing with regard to nothing. BUYER BEWARE! There are lots of folks that requires your cash in the event that you just side this so that you can them. In terms of ones education and learning, 'Affordable, Convenient in addition to Fast' will be not at all times the most effective things. Re-examine ones goals and find these within order. And inquire greater queries!

"Just what Will probably Often be Demanded regarding Everyone?"

This is the upcoming MOST critical question you should be asking.

Instructors can offer numerous unique requirements in addition to anticipations because there are students. All these vary from any "Whatever - Nearly anything Goes" kind of approach so that you can include those with crystal clear, properly planned out insurance plans made through a long time of experience in addition to designed to conserve the student-teacher-parent partnership pass more smoothly.

The more effective educational facilities in addition to course instructors can expect you to help to make some type of commitment. Many chaotic course instructors don'testosterone have enough to fight innovative learners whom only want to "Try it out out" for your thirty days or perhaps two. The achieved instructor is actually not planning to "TRY" so that you can coach you; they are focused on DOING IT, this means you really should include the actual approach in which you are going to DO IT, way too! Normally, commit ones hard-earned cash and time within one thing else.

As said before before, we a fair level of people wanting to know regarding piano instruction whom don'testosterone own any piano and get not any goal to getting one out of the actual around future. What'azines up start?

You want to capture piano instruction? Get a correct device!

PERIOD!

A superb instructor will expect a firm time frame responsibility within you and can definitely not accept too many changes in routine because you drift from a single hobby so that you can another. Make a decision with what for you to do; in that case DO IT! Ones instructor could and really should expect you to practice frequently at home and go to type prepared for your employed time frame every week.

Are you over-committed by using too many exercises? Don't Testosterone muddle increase teacher'azines existence through wreaking mayhem along with your schedule. Reconcile just for certain things in addition to accomplish these properly, as opposed to striving to become jack-of-all-trades in addition to master-of-none!

Right after teaching in addition to respecting ones teacher'azines suggestions is the one other area of expectation. A superb instructor knows out of a great deal of dedicated hard work and frequently annoying experience what is going to work in addition to exactly what won't. Possessing a dad or mom explain to the actual instructor, "Properly my own friend'azines daughter azines instructor doesn't testosterone help to make the woman make it happen," is actually an action regarding entire disrespect. That you are shelling out ones instructor to undertake a job, thus allow your ex DO THEIR JOB!

Remember to be specific in your teacher's insurance plans in addition to anticipations in addition to expect you'll respect these if you need to grow in addition to keep a powerful functioning relationship. Normally, hire a roofer else by using which team you can really feel more comfortable.

"Might I Fully grasp My Tutor?"

Through Greater toronto area, just as all kinds of other large urban centers globally, at this time there is an excellent variety regarding culture. Among the list of population are many definitely brilliant course instructors in addition to artists whom competent in the actual 'Old-World' style and get fantastic beliefs to share with the learners such as fortitude, tolerance in addition to self-discipline.

Sadly, English language just isn't the initially language, thus with regards to connection there exists a tremendous force on comprehension.

Tune in, studying almost any innovative talent is actually with enough contentration and never have to triumph over any language obstacle, too. Opt for a tutor whom you are able to comprehend in addition to whom knows you. Because ones instructor has all kinds of remarkable degrees in addition to certification, people mean very little for those who can'testosterone know what ones instructor says!

In addition to while we're talking about comprehending, language is actually not the only prohibit so that you can communication. Sometimes you will find variations in way of life, such as generation-gaps, play choices in addition to inclinations, etc. It is important to have somebody you are able to bond to.

To illustrate, either Mozart in addition to Mozart had been certainly 2 of the greatest play minds in which actually lived. Who seem to wouldn'testosterone need to analyze by using geniuses that adheres to that, right? Nevertheless, if it stumbled on manners, either males had been considered quite on the opposite end of the spectrum. Merely could hardly accept functioning online websites in addition to regarded the majority of the other male to get underneath themselves. That undoubtedly didn'testosterone lead to any feasible student- instructor relationship.

"Just what Type of Inspiration & Rewards Will probably My Tutor Utilize?"

The study of music might be fun. In reality, it must be enjoyment more often than not; usually there is truly not any good reason to stay by using it.

Obviously, there are always going to get those days any time truly isn'testosterone fun. Perfecting almost any talent can take some degree regarding dedication in addition to responsibility; that's referred to as "challenging work" in order to use it within basic English. Exactly what you've always wondered while you are buying music college is actually, "Bed not the culprit my own instructor planning to promote me standing on purchasing any time I recently don'testosterone sense that exercising?"

Are you prepared to try a 'Dictator'? By incorporating course instructors, it'azines THEIR WAY or even the highway. You might not like this approach. Then again, you may perfectly require that kind of discipline.

Nevertheless, I've got learners whom definitely rip apart on the blink of eye. The least tonal inflection regarding my own voice could possibly embark any feature regarding tears.

Get to know in addition to comprehend ones teacher’s identity style and find out when it fits your own property and especially ones child'azines temperament. This could certainly help to make a major difference inside world.

Merely when you obtain adequate strategies to these and also other identical queries really should i hear you ask:

The place do you think you're situated?

The amount of manages to do it price tag?

Do my teachers teach the instruments like,  piano lessons, violin lessons and guitar lessons?

Recall, it's about inquiring excellent questions. Dolphins, good luck ones music college shopping.

The earth can sound like a wild place sometimes...

OK, any LOT of that time!

[srgntfucks]

Tag Game

Rules: Tag nine people you would like to get to know better

I was tagged by: the ever so lovely @dean-the-smol-bean​ ♥

How old are you?: ol’ 19

What are you talented at?: I’m a pretty skilled writer, a decent artist, and empathetic listener. Although I’m not very talented, I absolutely LOVE dancing!!

What is a big goal you are working towards (achieved or not)?: I’ve never listed these out before, but I want to become healthier, have a better mental space (work on depression and anxiety), and to learn to stop taking things so seriously. Long term, I want to practice Yoga and regulate my diet more. 

What is your aesthetic?: I’m generally very temperamental when it comes to my current style. It tends to be either pseudo-grunge or what I can only describe as romantic neutrals. Overall, my aesthetic tends to be very nude-based colors, as you can clearly see in my side-blog (@obscurelymental).

Do you collect anything?: I used to collect so many things but I’ve been trying to declutter my life as of late, so I tend to only keep mementos because I’m a sentimental ho. 

What is a topic you always talk about?: I don’t tend to talk about a specific topic much, but I often refer to current news in politics and the media. Random memes or youtube videos, as well. (EDIT: just remembered i’m a little astrology scrub thanks carry on lmfao)

What’s a pet peeve of yours?: When people ask for advice and ignore it anyway, or when people choose to continue being ignorant when you try to help them. People demanding something from you and not showing any gratitude. Ignoring other’s beliefs or belittling them. 

Good advice to give?: As cliche as it is, be unabashedly yourself; try not to allow other’s opinions of you or their judgments to influence your decisions. In the end, their critiques only prove to reflect their own insecurities. If you love something, go for it. It’s nice to think of others and to help them but don’t lose yourself in the process. Strive to be kind to everyone you meet-- the most insignificant gesture of compassion can mean everything to a person.

What are three songs you’d recommend?:

Jump - Astrid S

Work The Middle - Alex Aiono

Work In Progress - Ta-ku (You have n o idea how long it took me to choose three. Pretty wide range here but here’s some obscure bops ya might like!! idk!!)

I tag: @luxnovalibra @fairyydust @tiredjedi @srgtfuckybarnes @theonlyaphrodite @crystaltrini @geminemi @mellowbutdramatic @kenzie7574 and anybody who sees this and wants to do it! : )

[epchapman89]

A City Of Love And Hate: Latin Culture Rising In The Phoenix Coffee Scene

This was going to be a very different article.

On Tuesday, August 22, 2017, current United States President Donald Trump held a rally in downtown Phoenix, Arizona, drawing thousands of counter-protesters and worldwide media coverage. The rally came uncomfortably close to a statement saying Trump was “seriously considering” pardoning “Sheriff” Joe Arpaio, Maricopa County’s notorious former sheriff recently voted out after 30 years of holding office. In July of 2017, Arpaio was convicted of criminal contempt for refusing to follow a federal judge’s orders to stop racial profiling. A week later, Trump formally pardoned the controversial former sheriff.

The political environment in Phoenix is a paradox. This is a city with a thriving arts, culture, food, and beverage scene, a vast hub in the middle of the Sonoran Desert with a major focus on community and supporting local, creating an active environment of creative entrepreneurship and small business culture. But anti-immigrant ideals and bigotry remain an undercurrent here. It feels like these dark sentiments have been on a steady boil since November of 2016, emboldened by the election of a President who advocates building a wall across the Arizona-Mexico border.

A city that has become a flashpoint for anti-immigrant sentiment is also home to a truly thriving immigrant small business community. The city’s coffee scene is a window into that world: the good and the bad, the challenges and opportunities, and ultimately, a hope for wider acceptance and tolerance. That’s Phoenix—and Phoenix coffee.

Ash Ponders

As the national specialty coffee industry experiences a widespread awakening towards equality and human rights within it—a direct result of the wider social and political climate here in 2017 America—little can be done to try and ignore how closely intertwined culture, politics, and coffee actually are. This concept is nothing new to marginalized coffee professionals, and this summer we saw it all in Phoenix. The usually quiet nature of political expression seemingly burst as news broke of Arpaio’s pardoning just three days after protests filled our downtown outside of Trump’s rally. It was a direct hit to the Latinx community, including many of those in the city’s coffee scene.

“I was actually pretty shocked by how upset I was,” Ash Ponders tells me. Ponders is a fixture in the Arizona coffee community, recognizable as a highly-knowledgeable enthusiast and regular at the city’s good coffee bars. He’s Panamanian-American, and his photojournalistic work has been featured in Phoenix New Times, La Prensa in Panama, Village Voice, and Standart Magazine. “I’m generally cynical, still hoping for the best but expecting the worst, but this ticked me off.”

Joe Arpaio is infamous for terrorizing Arizona’s Latinx community. Self-dubbed the “toughest sheriff in America”, his policies on immigration resulted in the unconstitutional and illegal profiling of minorities in Arizona. The inhuman conditions of his jails—most notably Tent City, an open-air prison in which inmates were forced to live outside in triple-digit temperatures—are a sad smear on the conscience of all Arizonans, and have kept Sheriff Joe under a constant veil of controversy statewide.

Jorge Torres

Jorge Torres—the owner and head stylist at Palabra, a collective hair salon, art gallery, and home of popular 49th Parallel account Futuro Coffee—attended the Trump protests in August, and calls the Arpaio pardon “a stab in the gut.” Palabra (Spanish for word) began as a downtown Phoenix salon and gallery concept in December of 2012, before moving to a new location and expanding to serve coffee in January of 2016. Torres celebrates minority and immigrant artists and creatives in his space, and his own Mexican-American heritage is apparent in the all-Spanish coffee menu that features beverages like jamaica (a Hibiscus tea), cajeta (a latte with homemade Mexican caramel), and a mocha made with Rancho Gordo chocolate.

“The menu is a reflection of my childhood,” says Torres, “and I can see it in the faces of other Latinos that come in, they know and recognize these flavors, too.”

Latin culture is woven into the fabric of Phoenix, and Torres and Ponders are leaders here in the Phoenix coffee scene, but the true impact of latinidad on Phoenix’s coffee community is still emerging. “On the one hand, it’s not very present,” says Ponders, “but you know it’s there.” The city has had its share of talented Latinx baristas and trainers over the years, but on the ownership and cultural leadership level, Latin culture is just beginning to fuse with the wider third wave coffee movement. There is a hope beginning to burn for change, especially in the wake of recent events, and new leaders are rising up here in Phoenix to make those crucial next steps.

One of those future leaders is Lisette Barbera, a barista at Cartel Coffee Lab’s Sky Harbor Airport location. (Good airport coffee: we have that in Phoenix.) Barbera vehemently champions increased communication about the Phoenix Latinx community and the wider specialty coffee scene.

Lisette Barbera

“The Latinx community 100% influences our coffee community,” Barbera tells me, adding, “and we don’t speak about it enough!” Barbera sees this wider recognition in Phoenix as echoing back to coffee’s origin story. “We often forget the seasons of manual labor that families build their lives around,” Barbera reminds me. “There are so many brown and Black hands these beans have passed through. I am so proud as a hardworking individual, I get to serve these with my brown hands.”

She’s right, of course—coffee’s journey from origin to coffee bar takes on a special kind of synergy in a place like Phoenix, and in the hands of Latinx coffee professionals like Barbera, Ponders, and Torres. The realities of being a brown coffee professional in America’s current climate means living with the fear of erasure—the inescapable fear that one’s contribution to American society, in addition to just being will be dismissed. Even as the coffee industry repeats its refrain of uplifting coffee producers in Central and South American countries, those stanzas often fail to acknowledge Latinx coffee people on the retail end.

Those fears and anxieties are exacerbated by shameful political moments like the Arpaio pardon. “This whole week has been just one big flashing image of seeing yourself being disrespected and then having to continue in everyday life as normal,” Barbera tells me. It’s an experience many know all too well. “Clocking in and out of work, trying to entertain your friends and experience normalcy, but then you wake up with all these images in your head.”

I spoke with another Latinx Phoenix-area barista for this article, Lydon LaJoie of Kream Coffee. He reflected deeply on the events of that wild week in August, having also been in attendance at the counter-protest.

Lydon LaJoie

“The protest started off strong,” LaJoie tells me, “and I went in humbly. I come from a mixed-race background but thought it was important I represent myself with that privilege.” Like many in the Phoenix community, Arpaio’s pardon brought back painful memories for LaJoie. “My heart dropped. Every time I heard ‘beaner’ or ’wetback’ growing up; every time someone asked, So what are you?; every time I held someone after their family had been torn apart; it all played in my head.”

“[Arpaio] is a symbol of fear, hate, oppression, and racism, there is no way around that,” LaJoie says. “I spent a majority of my life whitewashing myself because of him.”

Latinx coffee pros like Lydon LaJoie draw a lot of inspiration from examples like Jorge Torres, who LaJoie calls his “low-key hero” and “such an important part of this coffee community”—but there aren’t another dozen Latinx specialty coffee bar owners for me to profile. I wish there were; you hear a lot in the Phoenix coffee scene about “community first,” but it feels like our most marginalized communities aren’t being given the space or being embraced and championed by the city’s coffee scene.

The lack of what Ponders calls, “trade-based heritage” is something that plagues many Phoenix cultural communities. “I think that’s hurting us,” he says. “If I care about being Latinx, I’ll go to Puente, the human rights organization. As a journalist, I’m a member of the National Hispanic Journalists. But to not see something like that in coffee is strange.”

Ponders with Pope the Poodle (center) and the author, Michelle Johnson.

But looking at it through a lens of optimism, Phoenix coffee is in a unique position to change this. What’s always been great about the city is its ability to be shaped and molded, as it is still generally under development. The vast amount of space in between everything allows room for growth, and the potential for the scene is still in the early stages of being fully tapped. And though their numbers may be small, the city’s Latinx coffee leaders are up to the challenge of advancing the city’s coffee space, a place for brown people of all backgrounds to thrive.

Torres plans to use the platform he’s created as a creative and thought leader in Phoenix to educate people and activate them, with events happening in his Futuro cafe space. “I want to do talks and educate those who aren’t personally affected because they have no idea.” For Torres, coffee becomes irrelevant in the midst of political turmoil, but he does acknowledge that it can be through coffee that we reach people to increased awareness and encourage empathetic thought on these issues.

Barbera also wants to take action, but directly within coffee in Phoenix. Being a transplant from San Diego, I am still fairly new to the coffee community, but have noticed it lacking,” she says. “A lot of the coffee events I feel frankly left out of unless you are organizing yourself.” Barbera is working now with the team at Cartel to put on events to help build community and signal coffee’s wider role as an organizing platform. “Lately, I have taken it upon myself to do little events with Cartel’s help,” she tells me. “There I can be a physical representation of a brown, outspoken Mexican woman in a leadership role. That is so important to me, especially at a time when Mexican woman are still being portrayed a certain way by the media.”

Barbera goes on: “Phoenix has such potential for women of color to be in leadership roles. But I also understand I am going to have to do a lot of the footwork on my own here.”

That’s where the rest of the Phoenix coffee community comes in. Together with our Latinx colleagues, we can create the space needed to talk about these issues and connect with each other. Here in the Valley of the Sun, and in local coffee communities everywhere, we’ve reached a point where we can’t ignore bigotry and hatred and its expression in our society, both lawful and—in the case of Sheriff Joe’s modern-day torture camps—baldly unconstitutional.

Torres at Futuro

The Phoenix coffee community is a part of a wider community that is at an epicenter of southwestern Latin and Mexican-American culture. Through coffee, it is possible for Phoenix to lead the charge to shut out the hate and bigotry Latinx Americans face every day. In a city going through such a complicated identity moment right now—synonymous with both diversity and bigotry, a city of love and hate—I can think of no sweeter rebuttal than for Phoenix’s coffee scene to emerge as one of the country’s best, with Latinx coffee pros leading the way.

Michelle Johnson (@thechocbarista) is the publisher of The Chocolate Barista, and the marketing director at Barista Hustle. Read more Michelle Johnson on Sprudge.

Photos by Shaunté Glover (@shaunte) for Sprudge Media Network.

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