#me n my tromboner

[constermonster]

HAD SO MUCH FUN YESTERDAY!!!! I'll post more stuff too heheh !!!

It's a huge event where I'm from where there's processions in the morning and in the evening there's band contests in each village!!!! It's HUGE!!! here's a short video of me and the band I was with marching in the evening!!

[justanotherfanartist]

idr who it was but somebody I reblogged a post on a while back in which I dumped a bunch of random personal stuff in the tags if you see this this is for you 🙏🙏 also I’m lying I’m just a yapper

[thatgirlstrawberry]

Teach Me?

Feb. Requests - 1

In which Spencer asks the reader for help after he buys a keyboard.

Warnings: Smut!!! Fluff, cute/awkward!Spence, making out, oral sex(m), soft dom!Spencer? Hair pulling?, protected piv sex(be safe y’all), lmk if I missed anything!

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Spencer’s breath shook as he dialed Y/N’s number. He bit his lip before inhaling deeply.

The phone rang twice before Y/N’s sweet voice filled his ears. “Hello?”

The man smiled. “H-hi, Y/N! It’s S-Spencer.” He spoke quickly. “Are you busy?” He asked. He knew she was at work at this moment. She worked at the music store across the street from his favorite coffee shop.

They met when she was getting coffee before having to go to work. Spencer insisted on walking her across the street after they’d talked for thirty minutes.

“Uh… not right now. I do have a kid coming in for a lesson in five minutes, though.” She said. Spence could tell she was smiling.

“I uh…” He cleared his throat. “I had a case the other day a-and then I went out and bought a keyboard because of this little boy that I worked with.” He started off. He wondered if he was talking too much, if he should just get to the point. “Uh… and this was an impulse decision because I don’t actually know how to play any musical instruments. I did try to play the trombone in high school but I got made fun of and-“

Y/N giggled quietly. “Spence, did you want me to stop by when I get off of work? I can teach you to play.”

Spencer smiled at her warm tone. “Yes, thank you. I would really appreciate that.” He nodded even though she could see him.

-at the music store-

“Okay, great! How’s your day going so far?” Y/N asked, leaning over the counter. She glanced up at the door when an elderly woman and her husband came in. She shot them a smile and they nodded at her.

Spencer cleared his throat. “I’m good, just doing paperwork today. I’m actually about to head home. How’s your day?” he asked.

Y/N sighed and looked down at the lesson sign up sheet. “Good. Though, I had a fourteen year old scream at me because she couldn’t figure out how to play Twinkle Twinkle little star.” She giggled.

She heard Spencer laugh. “Well I promise I won’t scream at you, Y/N/N.”

Y/N checked her watch and saw a boy and his mother coming in. “That’s good, Spence. Hey, look— I gotta go but I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yes- yeah, I’ll see you tonight.”

She said goodbye and hung up the phone, sliding it in her back pocket, waving at the boy and his mom. “Hey, Kevin! Ready to be a rockstar?”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Spencer sped around his apartment making sure that everything was perfect and neat.

He didn’t have a bench to set in front of his new keyboard so he moved his coffee table into the kitchen and pulled the instrument in front of his couch.

He had also stopped at Y/N’s favorite Italian place and got dinner. He stopped in front of the door when he turned back and realized that this might have been too much.

Before he could scramble around again and unnecessarily move things, there was a knock at the door.

He silently cursed and shut his eyes. He exhaled deeply and opened the door with his eyebrows raised and a smile on his lips. “Y/N, thank you so much again for coming over.” He greeted.

“I couldn’t say no to my favorite guy!” She smiled, walking past him into the apartment. “And I got dinner from your favorite Chinese place.” She smiled nodding down at the brown paper bag in her arms. “I should have called and asked if you had eaten but- oh.” She stopped when she saw the containers from her favorite food place.

Spencer blushed as she turned around. “I- got dinner too.”

Y/N smiled. “Well who says we can’t have Spaghetti and fried rice?”

Spencer subtly admired her as she went to set the bag in the kitchen. “Why is your coffee table in the kitchen?” She giggled.

Spencer followed behind her, scratching the back of his neck. “I needed space for my keyboard, so I put it in front of my couch so we had space.” He finally got a good look at her outfit.

She wore a pair of really tight skinny jeans, that showed off the curve of her ass and hips perfectly and a loose red sweater. Spencer was glad she wasn’t looking at him because then she would have seen him visibly gulp as he gawked at her beautiful curves.

Y/N nodded and laughed. “Okay. Is it okay if we start after we eat? I didn’t get a lunch break because freaking Kevin couldn’t get the keys right.” She rolled her eyes sarcastically.

“Freaking Kevin.” Spencer joked, rolling his eyes as well. “Yeah, let’s eat.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N laughed as she finished her egg roll, looking away from Spencer who had his mouth dropped open in shock as they finished an episode of Hoarders on Netflix.

“She has cat poop in bottles!?” He exclaimed after chewing a meatball. Y/N nodded as she laughed, leaning against his shoulder.

After a moment more of laughter, the two quieted down and looked at each other. She cleared her throat and looked away from him. “Okay, tonight we’re gonna start with the letters that correspond with the keys.” She spoke. “It’s called a staff.”

Spencer nodded along, sitting up on the couch after turning the TV off. She scooted up and sat in the edge of the couch, looking back at Spencer.

“Wow, this has 88 keys.” She whispered with a smile. “Come here.”

Spencer immediately scooted up next to her and gazed at her as she let out a quiet breath. “Okay, start down here.” She smiled, reaching across Spencer to tap the very first key. “This key is A.”

The man held his breath as her arm brushed his chest. She pressed down on the key and began to move her fingers down. “Then, you just keep going down the keys until you stop at G. Then you start over.” She moved her arm back to her side slowly, almost teasingly.

“Uh… w- uh what are the black k-keys?” He asked, already getting flustered at their closeness.

Y/N chuckled. “These are sharps and flats.” She said pushing the black key closest to her. “Basically, it’s the sharp of whatever note to the left of it and a flat to whatever note to the right.”

“S-so if I play…” He pressed his finger down on the A key. “This one,” He pressed the black key to the right of it. “Is A sharp?”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Exactly!” She nodded, placing her hand on his bicep. “Now find… G, play that and then play G sharp.” She instructed.

He hesitantly did as he was told and Y/N hummed. “Perfect.” She smiled.

An hour later, Y/N yawned as she watched Spencer play notes painfully slowly. He noticed this and turned to her. “I’m sorry, are you tired?” He asked.

“Just a little bit it’s okay, I can stay.” She shook her head, her tired eyes betraying her.

Spencer shook his head as well. “No, it’s okay. And you’re working tomorrow.” He smiled. “Go home and get some rest.”

Y/N opened her mouth to object but Spencer raised his eyebrows. “Fine. But I’ll be back over tomorrow night and we’re gonna get down and dirty with this keyboard, okay?”

His heart skipped a beat when she smirked at him. “O-okay.” He nodded.

Y/N got up from the couch and made her way over to the door, Spencer following close behind. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Beethoven.” She winked.

Spencer gulped again, opening the door for her. “See you tomorrow, Y/N/N.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N bit her lip as she walked up the stairs to Spencer’s building. Her hands were sweaty so she kept running them along her gray tank top.

She wore tight black skinny jeans because she had caught Spencer eyeing her body in them the night before. She also wore a pair of black boots that laced up in the front.

When she met Spencer, a crush was born immediately. He walked her across the street to her job when they ran into each other (literally) at the coffee shop.

Now, he was one of her closest friends. But she just goes that they’d turn out to be more.

She approached his door and exhaled deeply as she stopped in front of it. She smiled and knocked on the door quickly.

She heard shuffling inside and a thud followed by a string of what was supposed to be quiet curse words.

“Shit! Fuck, ow! Mother fucking dick sucker!”

Y/N grimaced as she heard a loud sigh and heavy footsteps traveling towards the door.

It swung open and there stood Spence with sopping wet hair. “Y/N/N, hi.” He smiled, panting a bit.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Hey, Spence… what’s… uh what’s going on here?” Her eyes glanced at his dripping hair.

“Sorry, I just got out of the shower. I thought you would be here a little later. But come in!”

Y/N smiled as he stepped aside and she walked into his apartment. It was set up in the exact way it had been last night and she gasped. “Food!” She spun around after spotting a bag from The Cheesecake Factory.

Spencer chuckled. “And cheesecake.”

Y/N laughed. “Oh, I think I love you.” I do love you.

The man smiled and walked forward. She caught his eyes betraying him as they did a quick once over of her body and outfit. She inwardly celebrated and sat down on his couch.

She looked down at the keyboard and pressed a few keys before playing a simple song. It was the Barney theme song. When she was down, she looked up at Spencer. “That’s what you’ll be learning today.”

He chuckled. “We’re getting down and dirty with Barney?”

Y/N laughed out loud and sighed. “Yes, exactly. Now let’s sit and eat and watch another crazy reality show.” She patted the spot next to her and Spencer grabbed the bag of food and brought it over as she grabbed his remote control.

They ended up watching Love Is Blind for an hour and it had Y/N in a rather romantic mood. “She sighed as the second episode ended and looked over at Spencer who had been oddly quiet.

“Spence, are you okay?” She asked, sitting up. He looked down at her, a smile growing on his lips.

“Toni and Andrea are gonna end up getting married. They’re in love with each other.” He told her.

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Do you think he’ll love her even with the big wart on her forehead?” She asked.

Spencer chuckled. “He’ll love her, wart and all.”

Y/N smiled and giggled. “Thank you for dinner.” She nodded. “I shall now pay you back in musical favors.”

The man nodded and they got situated on the couch when they were sitting, thighs touching— god her thighs.

Spencer thought. He just wanted to spread them open and bury his hea-

“Spencer?” Y/N’s voice pulled him out of his particularly dirty thoughts and he cleared his throat. “Now that you’re back on earth, do you remember l- who am I kidding, you remember everything.” She rolled her eyes with a playful smile.

“Yeah-“

“Don’t you dare start bragging Spencer Reid.” She laughed, placing her hands over some of the keys on the keyboard.

Spencer laughed along with her and he watched her hands. “How are you gonna teach me this song?”

Y/N smiled. “I’m gonna play a couple notes, you copy me.”

She bit her lip when he nodded and began playing.

G, G, D, D, E, E, D

Spencer stared at her lips as they parted. When she looked at him, he quickly looked back down at the black and white keys. He shakily played the same pattern that Y/N had.

After he was done, he looked at her smile. “Good.” She said.

Something in the air shifted around them. Spencer’s hear word up. Y/N felt her breath hitch. “So… then you… um you play…”

She played the next 7 notes and looked up at Spencer. “So… you that’s C, C-“

She stopped when she went to play the note again at the same time Spencer did. He stared at her, she stared at him.

His eyes glanced down at her lips and they transformed into magnets. Their lips touched softly for a few seconds until Spencer pulled away. There was a blush on her cheeks and her eyes followed him as she looked away from her.

“I’m sorry. I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He shook his head. “I just… I really like you but I know you don’t like me like that—“

“Spencer—“

“And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of you a-and our time because I-“

“Spence, wait a sec-“

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I understand if you want to leave.” He shook his head and finally forced himself to look at her. “Why are you smiling?”

Y/N’s grin widened. “Because you’re the smartest man in the world and a behavioral analyst yet you couldn’t tell that I’ve like you since we met.”

Spencer’s eyebrows raised a little. “Wha- you have?”

Y/N hummed and nodded. “Of course I like you. Have you met you?” She giggled.

Spencer smiled. “I… I just thought that I was imagining things-“

“Spencer,” Y/N spoke. He stopped talking. “Can you kiss me again?”

The man let his tongue dart over his lips and he leaned forward again, this time with some passion. His lips tangled with hers and his hands found the sides of her face. She gripped his shoulders and sighed into the kiss.

Spencer’s tongue darted out, pushing at her lips. She opened her mouth a little wider and let his tongue slide into her mouth.

She hummed one of his hands slid from her face to the Sid rod her neck and kept going down, stopping at the curve of her waist.

She was the first one to pull away. “Spence…” She bit her lip as she stared at him damn near panting.

He pulled her back in before sliding both hands down to pull her onto his lap. Her knees separated and now she was straddling him.

Her lips met the corner of his mouth before they trailed down to his jaw. “Do you know *kiss* how *kiss* long I’ve been waiting to *kiss* kiss you like this?” She asked.

Spencer squeezed her hips before they went even lower, resting under her thighs. “Trust me, it’s been the same.” He groaned. “Torture.” He whispered before grabbing her jaw gently and pushing his lips on hers.

Y/N was surprised. She didn’t think Spencer would take that kind of… power. She moaned into his mouth when the hand gripping her jaw fell between them and onto her thigh and he started to rub it softly.

Her hips subconsciously moved as the kisses deepened and sped up. Spencer grouped her hips again, helping them move across his lap.

She felt him grow hard and opened her eyes, pulling away. She lazily smiled at him as he continued to move her against him. “I can feel your friend down there.”

She thought this comment would make him blush and stutter but what he said next shocked her and gave her butterflies.

“And I can feel how wet you are even through these little jeans.”

Y/N blushed and he smiled. “Well, you are hot as fuck so it’s kinda hard to stay dry when your lips are on me.”

Spencer chuckled and her hands glided over his chest and then his shoulders. She bit her lip and stared at his beautiful, sexy face.

His fingers unbuttoned her jeans as he stared at her. “Is this okay?” He asked softly.

Y/N bit her lip so hard that she almost made herself bleed. “It so okay.” She nodded.

Spencer smiled and pulled down the zipper. “I love you in these jeans.” He told her. She lifted up so he could pull them down.

Y/N nodded and laughed breathlessly as she shimmied out of her pants. “Yeah, I know.” She shrugged. Spencer looked confused but leaned in to kiss her neck. “You might be the behavioral analyst but I so caught you staring at my ass last night.”

Spencer chuckled into her neck and he played with the lace hem of her underwear. He sucked on a spot repeatedly when he noticed how her body reacted.

Y/N moaned and let her hands fall into his curls as her hips resumed movement. “Spence…”

He hummed and licked the spot on her neck.

“Can I… can I do something for you?” She asked, a blush taking over her cheeks.

Spencer pulled his face out of the crook of her neck and looked at her. “What baby?”

Y/N swallowed and bit her lip. “Y’know…” She got off of Spencer’s lap in a swift motion. He grabbed her hips confused but he almost lost his composure when she got of her knees. “Can I?”

Spencer nodded. “Shit, Y/N.” He whispered when she smiled and reached for his belt. He swallowed as she undid it skillfully and placed her hands on his thighs.

Spencer lifted his hips and quickly pulled his pants off leaving him in his boxers. His hard dick pressed against the fabric.

Y/N maintained eye contact with him as she leaned forward and trailed her finger along the waistband of his boxers.

“Shit, Y/N. Don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” He groaned. Y/N gave him a look and quickly pulled his boxers down, audibly gasping.

“Holy fucking shit, Spencer.” She glanced up at his face.

Spencer was going to say something but his brain fogged the second he felt her hand wrap around the base of his cock and her lips on the tip.

“Fu- Y/N.” He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them to see her lower her head down more, taking more of him into her mouth.

All while her eyes were still on his. Her nails dug into his thighs and he placed his hand on her head. “Fuck, such a good job.” He breathed out.

Y/N moaned around him and shut her eyes as he gripped her hair gently and helped her head go up and down.

She continued to suck for another minute before Spencer pulled her head up softly. She looked up at him with confusion in her eyes. “Was that not good? I’m s-“

“No, baby.” Spencer shook his head, moving his hand to her chin and using his thumb to wipe her lips. “I was gonna come but I need you to finish first.”

Y/N blushed and licked her lips. “Me first?” He stood up, looking down at her.

“You first.” He nodded, pulling her off of her knees. “Always.” He kissed her heatedly, gripping her hair again.

She bit her lip as he grabbed her hips pulling her into him. “Do you have a condom?” Y/N asked, pulling away.

Spencer nodded, not being able to resist kissing her again. “Jump.” He whispered between kisses.

Y/N did as he told her and wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her up with his arms underneath her ass.

He carried her into his bedroom, lips never leaving each other’s. She whined softly when he put her down on his bed and walking away from her. She watched him walked over to his bedside table and opened it, searching around for a moment.

He pulled out a shiny golden packet and stuck it between his teeth. He crawled onto the bed where Y/N was watching him with a smile.

When he hovered over her, she snatched the condom from his teeth and pulled him down into a kiss, unbuttoning his shirt quickly. He let her pull the shirt off of him and thought it was unfair that she was still in her tiny little tank top.

He hummed and reached for her tank top, pulling it up and off as he was pulling away from her lips. Spencer groaned at the sight of her chest and shut his eyes. “You’re so sexy, baby.” He told her.

She bit her lip and tried to hide a smile. He kissed her again before paying attention to her panties. He pressed his fingers against the fabric making Y/N’s breath hitch. “Gotta take these off.” Spencer spoke.

She lifted her hips off of the bed and he pulled them off of her. “Jesus fu- oh my God, you’re so wet.” Spencer mumbled, damn near staring at her core.

He looked up at her. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s okay if you don’t.” He nodded, his eyes softened.

Y/N smiled and pressed her hand against his cheek. “I’m sure. I want you more than anything.” He but his lip and took the condom back from her, opening it and sliding it on his length.

Spencer smiled and pressed his tip against her entrance, eliciting a gasp from her lips. He pressed his lips against hers as he pushed in slowly. She moaned into his mouth and squeezed his biceps.

This moment felt different. It felt softer, more passionate. Less like lust and more like love.

Spencer groaned into the kiss and pulled away slowly, staring at her closed eyes hoping they would open soon so he could look at her.

“Open your eyes, baby.” He told her quietly. “Let me see those pretty eyes.”

Y/N opened her eyes and met his as he chest heaved. He began to move slowly, sinking all the way into her before pulling out but not all the way.

He loved the way her mouth dropped open and her eyebrows creased. Sweet, sweet sound came from her.

“Fuck— Spencer!” She said closing her eyes again.

He grabbed her jaw. “Uh uh. Eyes open, pretty girl.”

Y/N opened her eyes right back up and bit her lip. “Faster. Please.” She mumbled.

Spencer snapped his hips a little faster. He let a hand come down between them and start rubbing her clit.

“Fuckin- tryin’ to kill me?” She asked breathlessly, through a smile.

Spencer chuckled and rubbed faster. “This feel good, baby?” He asked. She started nodding almost immediately letting out an incoherent word.

“Fuck, Spence— M’close.” She spoke, feeling the tightening in her lower stomach.

“Fuck baby— feel so good. So tight.” He spoke as she uncontrollably clench around him. “Y/N/N, I’m so close baby.”

Y/N let out breathy moans and dug her nails into his back. “I’m gonna come.”

“Come for me, baby.” He whispered in her ear.

Y/N squeezed around him again before she released. She looked up at him as he kept thrusting into her. “You make me feel so good, baby—“ Spencer nodded as he filled the condom.

Y/N panted and smiled up at him as he squeezed his eyes shut, hips stuttering.

After a moment of silence, Spencer looked down at her with his chest heaving. He pulled out of her slowly and tapped her hip. “Come on.”

Y/N giggled. “Spencer, I don’t think I can fuckin’ stand.”

He smiled at her and pulled her up. He dragged her towards his bathroom and let go of her body when he went to turn on the shower.

Once he was done checking the temperature, he pulled her back to him and stepped inside the shower.

They showered, not speaking but just staying in each other’s presence. Y/N thought it was awkward at first but she settled in when Spencer helped her wash her body.

Hours later, Spencer had given Y/N a tshirt, a pair of his boxers and socks to put on since her clothes were dirty now.

She sat up in his bed, watching him read. Yes, they had talked to each other about the events of the hours before but it was weird.

After a moment, she heard Spencer sigh and he put his book down on his bedside table.

He turned to Y/N and held out his hand, scooting down to lay on his side. She smiled and grabbed his hand, using it to pull herself down to let next to him, cuddling into his side.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He spoke suddenly.

She furrowed her eyebrows and looked up at him. “F-for what?” She asked.

“I… I didn’t want you to feel… I don’t know, rushed?” He sighed. His voice was quiet.

Y/N shook her head. “No, no I didn’t feel rushed.” She told him. “Spencer, do you not understand that I really really like you?” She asked, smiling.

Spencer felt his heart speed up. Y/N had really really liked him. “I really like you, Y/N.” He nodded. “I want to take you out.”

“On a date?” She asked, her grin widening.

“On a date.” He nodded. “We can go out, we can eat, go see a movie and then I can kiss you. And then I can call you when you’re in bed later that night and tell you what a great time I had.”

Y/N giggled and his her face in his chest. “Okay. Take me out then, Spence. I would love that,”

The rest of that night was spent cuddling and talking and watching stupid reality shows until Y/N fell asleep.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.••.•.

Thank you so much to @f-me-reid for this amazing request!!! I really enjoyed writing this one!

[kokushibosbestie]

ok so idk if u do like x reader stuff but if you do, can u do like a Sally face fic or headcannons with Sal and Larry. I wanted to request what it would be like for them to have like a very busy s/o. Like I do marching band and outside of school I do volleyball and lessons for trombone and piano. Along with that I take AP classes and student council which give me more work to do so I feel pretty drained by the end of the day

♡~ Sal and Larry w/ busy S/O HCs ~♡

A/N: Yes, I take requests and do (Character) x reader headcannons! AND I'M SO SORRY IF THIS WASN'T GOOD AND I KNOW LARRY'S PART ISN'T LONG I HOPE YOU CAN FORGIVE ME ANON. ALSO IM SORRY THAT IT TOOK SO LONG, I'VE BEEN REALLY BUSY WITH SCHOOL AND I HAD WRITERS BLOCK FOR LIKE 3 WEEKS 😭🙏

Warnings: None, just pure fluffiness and love. GN!reader.

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

♪ Sal Fisher ♪

· HE'S JUST A FKN SWEETHEART 😭😭 · I will say that he is going to make sure to make your life easier no matter what · like doing chores, helping you with projects and assignments, and planning out your week · I don't think many realize this, but he is not the "badass player" people portray him as. 😔 · So, he will make you sit down with him on the weekend and ask how things are going. · And this is with everything. Work, school, family life, your relationship with him, your mental health, etc. · He is serious about it too. 😅 He cares a lot and he doesn't like to see you stressed. · So when you come home tired and worn out, he will not be happy. · he knows it's not your fault and you can't help it "Love, please stop doing this to yourself. You know this isn't good." · Like I said, he loves you 🥰 · istg this man HAS and WILL beg you to take a break · so when you come home, he'll already have a bath ready for you · once you're done taking a bath, he'll make you sit down on the floor in front of the couch so he can brush / comb your hair · and I honestly think he's not the best cook, but he will cook your favorite food no he won't, it's going to be takeout because he failed · your room is already cleaned and he bought you squishmellows to add to your collection · he'll cuddle you to sleep while playing with your hair · definitely the big spoon on nights like this "Relax baby, you need to get sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up, okay?"

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

☆ Larry Johnson ☆

· I'ma be fr with you, he would NOT notice at first · Not until Ashley said something but after she brings it to his attention that you need a little bit more attention, he will do exactly that · and istg, he WILL pick you up bridal style and carry you away from whatever you were doing 👀 · If you protest, he will glare at you and ignore it. · Any kind of work you do is "overworking yourself" to him · so beware · Imma be completely honest, this man CANNOT keep up with you · Your ship dynamic is literally "busy mastermind and their assistant who worships them but can't keep up." 😭💞 · larry is the one worshiping you "Look, I know you have a lot going on, so don't try to convince me that you aren't. I might be stupid in school but I'm not stupid with you." · he will say shit that doesn't make sense WHATSOEVER. 😔 · Ofc, he won't admit that he's trying to take care of you · or keep up with you · obvi 🙄 · I have my own hc that he actually does know how to cook nicely, so I think he'd make you food you'd watch a movie together and talk · once your social battery is completely out, he'll offer you to sleep on his chest. 🥰 · and when you wake up, he's gunna make you breakfast. "Don't try to keep yourself up babe. You've had a long day, so just rest."

DISCLAIMER: THE HEADER IS MINE, THOUGH THE FANART IS NOT. THE DIVIDERS ARE NOT MINE, ONCE AGAIN, THEY ARE NOT MINE. ALL CREDITS GO TO ORIGINAL POSTERS / CREATORS!!! ALL WRITING BELONGS TO ME!!!

[naffeclipse]

I'm sick right now and lost my voice and I sound like a muted goose crying in a trombone whenever I try to speak lol But it made me wonder-

How would Orca Eclipse react if Photographer!Y/N caught a little cold, because of the arctic temperature, and temporarily lost their voice?

Like they're relitively fine above all else and not feverish, maybe the occasional cough, but Y/Ns once comforting and distinctive tune now a strained grating whisper?

Eclipse would hear your voice slip out, all gravel and raspy strain, and immediately drag you closer to fuss over his sick birdie. He wants to look in your mouth and though you politely decline, he does so anyway. He's relieved to feel that you're not feverish and there's nothing too terrible at the back of your throat, but he's still very concerned. Losing one's voice, even as damaged and weak as yours, is a great weakness, so he's taking it upon himself to talk and sing to you so you can save your words for when you're better.

[bandnerdlevel43]

Day Three- Reunion (Modern)

Lu Legend x Ravio (Ravioli) 

Summary: Ravio has been off on a business trip with Hilda for a month now, and Legend has been getting lonely. Now he's coming back- right on the day of the chain’s jazz band performance.

Word Count: 6,911 (This is a long one)

Warnings: If you read my first fic, you know I don’t swear but it’s there for the vibe; Legend has anxiety, Legend has a flashback in a flashback involving non graphic stab wounds and a reference to his dead uncle, improper use of a trumpet spit valve, Fable is a menace, Four has to deal with her, author has several agendas and she is pushing ALL of them today, fluff at the end, super über long fic

A/N (Please read this, it's important): I'm back! I procrastinated this one for way too long, but I finally finished it! I somehow also managed to finish day four and five before this one, so those will also be posted with this. Go check them out here and here!

…Anyways, it's time for me to come clean. I'm a band kid. And a proud one, too. I saw this post and went absolutely nuts, so of course I had to write about a jazz band au. Give the post some love (since op is inactive) because most of it was the basis for this au.

Important part: The last song they play in this fic is “Want You Gone” by the 8-Bit Big Band, feat. Benny Benack III, and I suggest you listen to it! The lyrics are hilarious but if you don’t listen to it before the fic itself you’ll get lost very easily. If you see any music words you’re unfamiliar with, either throw me an ask or you can look it up on your browser. Sorry for the long note; I hope you enjoy!

----

Good news: We’re on our way back! We’ll be home by the twenty-third.

We have a performance that day.

I won’t see you.

I can drop in. Don’t worry! We’ll make it, I promise.

Alright. Love you.

I love you too, Link.

“Texting your boyfriend?” Fable chirped.

Legend jumped, shielding his phone and glaring at his sister. “None of your business,” he spat.

Fable grinned, toying with the reed in her fingers. “You sure you don’t have that message memorized?”

“Shut up,” he hissed.

Wind blew into his trombone, imitating a wolf-whistle while wiggling his eyebrows. Legend snorted. “Real mature, Sailor.”

Sky paused the plucking of his bass’s strings, his eyes flicking from his tuner to Legend as his brows furrowed. “Isn’t he coming back today?”

“Yep,” Fable trilled gleefully. “And Legend is beside himself with lovesickness!”

“Fable!” Legend growled. Great goddesses, could she be any more insufferable?

Well, apparently she could. “His lonely heart, separated from his lover for what seemed like years,” she sighed, swooning dramatically. “Tonight they'll reunite in a passionate embrace, proclaiming their love to-”

Twilight appeared from behind her and swatted her upside the head. “Leave ‘im alone,” he chided. While Fable scampered away, giggling, he tossed a tiny bottle to Wind, who snatched it out of the air. “Slide grease.”

“Thanks, Rancher.” Wind saluted. 

“Anything you two need?” Twilight asked, looking at Sky and Legend. Both shook their heads. 

“Hey, Twilight!” Four sauntered up to the small gathering, tenor sax slung over his shoulder by the strap. “We need cork grease over here.” He blinked at Legend and pointed out needlessly, “Your face is red. You okay?”

Legend didn't think his face could heat any further. He was wrong. “I'm fine,” he muttered.

“He's just madly in love,” Wind said mischievously. Both Fable and Sky snickered. He glared at them, Sky in particular. I thought better of you, bird boy.

Four's lips twitched upwards in a smirk. “Ah. This is about Ravio.”

Legend dropped his head into his hands with a groan. Fable, for some bizarre reason that Legend couldn't place, thought this was hilarious, and cackled.

“Reign it in, loverboy.” Four leaned against the wall. “You still need to warm up, and no one likes to hold a cold hand.”

Legend kicked at his knee. “Watch it,” he threatened, “Or I'll make your lifespan as short as you are.”

A chorus of “oohs” sounded around the room. Four chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “Cheer up. You'll get your kisses soon.”

Fable howled hysterically, slapping her thigh. Legend could feel how red his face was as Four ran through the smuggest scale he had ever heard. It wasn't even that witty, but Wind was still squeaking like a chipmunk, and of course Sky snorted. Twilight at least was trying his hardest to appear indifferent, but Legend knew how hard it was to keep one's composure when Fable leans on you for support while wheezing directly in your ear.

“Ledge!” Wars hollered from backstage. “Get your sorry backside over here; I want to run through this song with you.”

Legend aimed one last petty kick at Four before standing. He hefted his case and stomped off, pointedly ignoring the way Fable pretended to faint into a scandalized Twilight's arms, crying, “Save me, Mister Hero!”

That shook him more than he'd have liked to admit. He bit his tongue to keep from throttling Fable for making fun of Ravio. Well, even if she hadn't mocked him, he still would've done it. And she still would've deserved it.

Wars watched him approach, his expression neutral. Legend thrust open his case aggressively and jammed the various pieces together. His jaw was tense and he avoided Wars’ gaze.

“Careful,” his brother commented. “You'll scratch her.”

Legend exhaled a controlled breath and quelled the ache in his gut that shouldn't exist in the first place. He suffocated it with thoughts of flats and sharps, of staccatos and tenudos, of the cool metal on his lips and fingertips, and of the notes both painted on the page and burned into his very soul. It was a familiar ritual that helped ease a bit of himself into the music, breathing color into the diverse melodies, rhythms, and even his brothers. It never failed, even when Fable did it with him.

Until today.

Somehow, his thoughts still circled back to his blasted boyfriend. His cheery grin had that same brightness as the sheen on his trumpet. His eyes danced with the same mischief that Sky eased from his bass. His arms would envelop him, soothing in a way that reminded him of playing with his brothers and sister. His tears spoke the same words as an instrument in need of care: always frustrated with himself and never anyone else. His hands- they shook before adversity. Just how Legend's own trembled right then, his mind's eye suddenly brimming with images of hundreds of people, Ravio in the midst of them, staring unsympathetically as his fingers stuttered. 

Legend cursed, his hands dropping to his sides. He flattened himself against the wall, sinking to the floor. Hylia, he could already tell he was going to mess up badly.  He had practiced these songs with the others for weeks, and it was about to mean nothing. To make matters worse, he had a solo. Not any old solo, either, but an improvised solo. Improvising solos was nothing new to him. This stabbing pain was new. It twisted at his heart like a common school bully to a poor victim's shirt. Loneliness (And yes, Farore strike him down, but Fable was right. He was lonely.) had him at its mercy. And now, Ravio was so close. Legend was going to fumble the solo in front of him, and that fear alone blurred his thoughts until he couldn't discern one tangled bundle of nerves from another.

Wars sat down next to him. He laid a hand on Legend's shoulder and asked softly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Legend shook his head hopelessly. There was nothing he could say that Fable hadn't said already. Besides, with how Wars fixed him with those knowing eyes, he understood better than Legend himself did.

“Breathe with me, alright?” Wars let go of his shoulder, hand gesturing to his chest. Legend didn't have much pride to lose, so he complied. When Wars' chest rose, he breathed in. When it sank, he breathed out. In, two, three, four. Hold… Out, two, three, four. It didn't take much time before Legend grew irritated, thinking that this was taking too long. His time would be better spent practicing! He should be tuning, warming up, looking over his music again, anything! Not some barely effective breathing exercise that his brother only did when Wind was having stage fright, or when Sky struggled through an asthma attack. Or when Wild had a particularly bad flashback. Or when Rulie awoke, screaming, from a nightmare. Did… Did he really look that bad? That distressed?

Wars lifted his trumpet to his lips. “Tune me.”

With that, the sound of the instrument filled the room. Wild’s snare hidden in the corner rattled in complaint. He forced himself to block it out and focus on the note as it wavered in his ears, settling on something just a little off. “Pull it out,” Legend said, nodding to the tuning slide.

Wars adjusted the slide, and the pitch dropped. Well, now it's flat, Legend thought irritably. He pointed upwards. This time, Wars shifted the position of his lips on the mouthpiece, which finally sharpened the tone enough to satisfy the two of them.

“Keep playing.” Legend lifted his own trumpet to his face. He played the same note until they matched, then tested a handful of notes that harmonized with his brother's. There was not a single sign of dissention between the two. What he would give to simplify his emotions like that. 

“Ready?” asked the man beside him. 

“As I'll ever be,” Legend mumbled.

Wars patted him on the back and helped him up. “Remember, it's just like any other performance,” he assured him. “Just keep playing, and you'll do great “

“Thanks,” Legend grunted. 

“Don't worry about it.” Wars smiled. “Let's run through the program. Start on my mark: one, two, ready…”

Wild, Flora, Time and Hyrule returned with dinner. Those who remained behind joined them to eat. The meal was quick, consisting of a tray of sandwiches and a bowl of salad. Legend didn't feel like eating. Everyone, including him, was eager to get back to practice, now as a full band, and they wasted no time in getting to it.

Rehearsal flew by uncomfortably fast. Everything went smoothly, if by smoothly, one meant “absolute disaster”. Oh, everyone else was fine. Legend made too many mistakes. This only gave Fable and Wind more ammo to torment him with, and only after a harsh reprimand from Wars did they stop. He wanted to feel grateful for his intervention, but the seed had already been planted. Now it was performance time, and he couldn't help the sudden panic that attacked him. He hyperventilated. His hands were clammy and they shook uncontrollably. Only Hyrule's calm comfort prevented him from losing control.

“Shhh,” Rulie whispered, rubbing his hands gently. “It'll be okay, Legend, I promise.”

“I can't do it,” he gasped, feeling lightheaded. “I can't go out there.”

“Yes, you can,” Rulie told him forcefully. “You're going out on that stage and you're going to sound amazing.”

“I'm going to mess up,” Legend said, his voice wobbling. “I'm going to ruin the whole performance in front of him-”

“No, you won't,” he interrupted. “And even if you did, his opinion of you won't change. Ravio loves you no matter what.”

Legend didn't respond. Rulie squeezed him in a quick hug and guided him to where the rest of the band waited. “Breathe,” he reminded him.

Time nodded at the two of them. He handed Rulie his bass guitar, who accepted it graciously. “Are you two boys ready?”

“Yup,” Rulie responded confidently.

Wild bared his teeth in a grin, twirling a drumstick in his fingers. “Let's light ‘em up, boys.”

Fable and Wind both whooped, each bodychecking Four. Legend swallowed hard.

With that, they walked onto the stage. Applause immediately assaulted his ears, causing him to wince. He squinted into the spotlights, their dazzling beams glaring daggers into his eyes.  He searched the crowd anxiously, his heart thumping when he couldn't find Ravio. He wanted to slap himself for that. His head yelled at him to just focus. 

Instinctively, he glanced at Rulie. The freckle-dotted face smiled encouragingly, mouthing, “You got this!”

He had to admit, that lifted his spirits, just a little. He took his place at his designated music stand and stared it down, scowling at each note.

“You better not ruin this,” Legend whispered menacingly.

Wars, who had just joined him at the stand, shot him a funny look. “What?”

“Not you,” Legend muttered.

Time stepped up to the microphone. He started his usual introduction, and the crowd quieted to hear his words. Legend hardly listened. His mind was on his sweaty palms. He wiped them on his pants with a soft curse. Did his own body think wringing itself dry of any liquid was going to help him? Brushing his hair out of his eyes also resulted in damp droplets on his fingertips.

“Ledge,” Wars said in a hushed tone, “stop chewing your lip.”

Legend wanted to punch him. He was only trying to help, though, which of course made him want to punch him more. Still, he restrained himself, both from hitting Wars and from giving into his anxious habits.

Cheering announced the end of Time's speech. The old man dipped his head and swept his arm, gesturing at Wild. Wild smiled broadly, raised his drumsticks, and hollered with his typical unhinged energy the usual countdown: “ONE, TWO! ONE, TWO, READY, GO!”

A snap of wood on snare and a plethora of clicks on the hi-hat cracked through the air. Sky plucked an upbeat rhythm on his bass. Hyrule and Wind joined next, hopping from high to low, up and down, badum, badum. Fable’s entrance infused the band with her bright, energetic spirit. She swung and leaped from note to note while the bass drum thrummed in Legend's chest. Fable climbed a scale and Four came in to support her. She hit the top, held it, and cued the rest of the band. Legend was unwillingly swept away by the current of music that was too fast, too quick.

And, of course, thoughts of Ravio came unbidden into his head.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Ravio murmured. “That day in the alley…”

Legend snorted. How could he forget? “Of course I remember.”

He let himself be twirled beneath his partner's arm before once again taking the lead. The two swayed in time with the music amidst the crowd of people, their movements not quite in sync compared to the others. Frankly, he was surprised how natural Ravio made it seem, considering how stiff Legend was. They'd made progress since their first time dancing, and although Legend kept tripping over himself in self-consciousness, they were doing fairly well. 

“All those cultists. You took them out so quickly!” Ravio chuckled. “I wasn't sure if I should've been more scared of you than them.”

“I was sloppy,” Legend muttered. “Too preoccupied with finally looking like the ‘good guy'.”

“Link, I thought I was going to die,” Ravio said seriously. “You were my practical knight in shining armor!”

“A lot of good that did me,” Legend grumbled.

“Hey!” Ravio laughed. “I'm not that bad, am I?”

“I-I didn't mean you,” he said awkwardly. 

“Oh.” Ravio deflated, hesitating. “...Yuga?”

Yuga. Yuga with a knife in his back, pinning him to the wall and tugging at his hair so his ear was to his mouth. He whispered threats while Link strained to breathe through the agony.

“You're not making it out of here alive, little hero,” he hissed. “Say hello to your uncle for me.”

Legend kicked and screamed against the memories. They were choking him, like Yuga all those years ago. The result? He only managed to squeeze out a pathetic handful of right notes. He hid behind Wars’ far more confident sound. Wars sensed what was wrong and covered for his sudden inability to read music.

The only note he really hit right was the last one. No style or soul went into it. He was having enough trouble staying within the key signature.

The audience applauded. Time acknowledged them with a hand.

Legend tugged at his suit. Had it always been this hot? He was overheating. And lightheaded. Was that normal?

“Ledge,” Wars hissed, shoving something cold into his hands. Legend blinked, dazed, at the object- a water bottle. “Water. Drink.”

He didn't have much else to do, so he obeyed. The freezing water was like ice down his throat, shocking him back to reality. He shook away the dizziness and drank more. It burned but was real.

“Breathe,” Wars reminded him for what must've been the fiftieth time that night. “Just hold on. Only two songs. You can do this. Just breathe.”

Why was everyone telling him to breathe? “I have to breathe to play my instrument,” he snarked. 

Wars raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Just like that.”

Before he could come up with a snappy retort, his eyes caught Fable slipping past. She avoided his eyes. Wild handed her his drumsticks and she sat at the drumset. Wild stood by the marimba, casually twirling the mallets in his fingers while Four set aside his tenor for a bari.

Legend paled. Oh. This one, he had forgotten.

This song relied heavily on trumpet to start the band. Fable had no sax to carry the melody.

“Relax,” Wars said sternly. “I'll be here, playing with you.”

Legend pursed his lips and shoved the water bottle back into his brother's hands.

Time finished stalling. It took Legend a moment to realize that Time was not, in fact, waiting for him. He watched for Wild’s, Fable's and Four's signals that they were ready. There was no screaming countdown to start them off this time.

Legend was alone.

He regretted giving Wars his water back. His mouth was dry again. He couldn't seem to swallow. He tried asking for it but the words died on his tongue.

All he had to do was put his lips to the mouthpiece and blow. Din! It shouldn't be this hard!

Twilight waited for him. He was relying on him to cue his part.

Rulie waited for him. His note was essential to harmonize with his counter melody.

Wars waited for him. He only expected him to endure through what little they had left.

“Fight it,” Wars murmured. “Don't let the fear win. You hear me, Link? Fight back.”

“Link? Link, fight it. Wake up!”

Legend gasped for air, greeted by the sight of Ravio's worried eyes fixed on his. Hands were cupping his face, steady and sure. Legend grasped their wrists by instinct, breathing heavily.

“Link, are you alright?” Ravio repeated anxiously. “Can you hear me?”

Legend's eyes darted across the crowded room with the urgency of a frightened prey animal, but when his eyes locked with Ravio's again, his heartbeat slowed. He nodded.

“Do you need some fresh air?” asked the Lolian.

“I- No, I'll be fine,” he said shakily. “Just a flashback.”

“Are you sure? Because we can leave if-”

“No, it's over,” Legend interrupted. “We're not leaving unless you want to.” He inhaled deeply, ignoring his trembling hands.

Suddenly, Ravio's arms were wrapped around him. Legend's breath hitched, his internal screams needlessly reminding him that they were in public!

Legend laughed nervously. “Is there, uh… a specific reason why we're so sentimental all of a sudden?” he coughed awkwardly.

Ravio didn't respond, at first. He buried his face in Legend's shoulder and hummed, “I'm just glad you're here.”

Oh. Well, that was no reason for his face to get so red, was it? So why was his heart beating so quickly? And why did he feel so unreasonably giddy?

Ravio gave him another squeeze before pulling away and continuing the dance. Legend somehow managed to stumble even more than before, but Ravio's bright laugh lightened his mood every time. He supposed this whole dancing thing wasn't too bad.

He was happy to be with Ravio, too.

“Fight it…”

Legend clenched and unclenched his hands. He placed his fingers on the buttons and lips to the mouthpiece. He took one shuddering breath, pouring all he had into his trumpet- all his terror and loneliness and inadequacy. 

What rang out over the stage was a soft, mellow E flat. A single-toned lament. It resonated within his bell before slipping away, eluding his grasp like a hushed whisper of wind.

I miss you, Rav.

It was only when he released the note that he realized that no one else came in. His gaze flitted to Wars. The zeal he found startled him.

“Yes!” Wars’ eyes shimmered with enthusiasm and pride. “Again- C'mon, Legend, you can do it!”

Legend didn't give himself time to think. He hurled himself down the metaphorical leap of faith and howled into the trumpet. 

His brothers answered his call. 

Twilight hummed back, achingly familiar in its mournful cry. Hyrule took on the same tone, grasping it effortlessly but gently, like one would handle an injured animal. Wind's response was frustrated, like him. It was as much of a duet of music as it was a duet of feeling.

Legend released the note, and breathed. He sunk into the hopeful interlude led by Wild and Four. It felt much more real than himself. The sound wound its way into his ears and eased out a puff of air he hadn't realized he had been holding. 

It was startling, realizing that they were all mimicking what he had put into that note. Could it be that he was that obvious that he was pining? Four was the one who had made fun of him earlier. Yet here he was, weaving soft arpeggios of warmth and comfort. What was going on?

Wars poked him, jarring him from his reverie. “The Sailor’s trying to talk to you.”

Legend raised his eyebrows and shot a flat look the trombonist’s way. Really? the look said. In the middle of a performance?

There was a mischievous glint in Wind's eyes. “Solo battle?” he signed.

Legend almost laughed. Keyword: almost. “You mean a call-and-response duet?” he signed back.

“Whatever.” Wind rolled his eyes. “Are you in or not?”

Legend's eyebrows probably joined with his hairline then. “Isn't that in, like, three measures? Are you stupid?”

Wind flipped him off and stuck out his tongue. 

Oh, this twerp was going down. 

Fable jumped into action. Suddenly, the beat was moving at a relentless pace. The marimba perfectly channeled the devious smirk Wind carried. Legend found himself relishing the music again, tapping his foot along with Four's raw power. He bobbed his head in time with the vibrations he felt in his feet, most of which blasted from Time's guitar. He tossed the theme to Wars, who passed it to Four, who handed it to Wind, who promptly threw it to the floor and ground it into dust, laughing exhiliratedly. Normally, the rest of the band had to reel the dynamic in so the soloist could be heard, but most soloists weren't attention hogs like Wind. He would be heard, whether the audience liked it or not.

The Sailor moved with his solo. He tilted left and right, he stuck his slide into the air, and he bounced with each boom of the bass drum. Frankly, the drama of it all was rather obnoxious. It only charged Legend's eagerness to challenge him. There may be no winner in a solo battle, but he was determined to thoroughly beat Wind's ego into the dirt.

Legend waited for the perfect moment. He lifted his trumpet. He eyed the smug sailor out of the corner of his vision, a hint of warning in his posture. Secretly, though, he was excited to see the looks on the band's faces when he came in.

Now!

A visceral growl emitted from his instrument. Wind's head whipped around to face Legend, looking mildly offended. He barely restrained himself from snickering as the boy put a hand on his hip with an expression that looked hilariously reminiscent of Tetra's own pout.

As for the rest of the band… they were surprised, to say the least. Flabbergasted, as Ravio might've put it. Wind was given a fixed number of measures for his solos, and Legend cutting him off most definitely shook them. Four, the ever-reliable musician he was, was the first to regain his senses and improvise a good “backing track” for the others. Wars was ecstatic, and only Legend's lingering self-consciousness kept him from turning around and blasting in his ear. 

“I was just about- You interrupted me!” Wind pretended to look outraged, but frankly, he looked more like an indignant gerbil than anything else.

Legend shrugged. Wind puffed out his cheeks. It only encouraged the rodent illusion, which just added to the growing list of infinitely hilarious things that shouldn't be funny; what was he thinking? Goddesses, what was he doing? He shouldn't be stealing Wind's solo, he was going to make it worse, he was going to ruin it for the kid-

He stumbled. 

His blood had never drained so quickly from his face before. He scrambled to find a note that sounded right. Nothing sounded right! Why couldn't he do anything right? Why-

…Wind was covering for him. He covered up his mistakes by one-upping him, because that's how their solo battles went. Constantly improving on the last turn. Disguising his slip-ups by being better than him, all while pretending that was the plan all along.

Wars leaned over. He chuckled in amusement. “Are you going to just take that, Ledge? Gonna let him win?”

Legend snorted. “You wish this was your solo, pretty boy.”

He let the sailor have his little moment. Let him have his sly smirk and the roaring crowd, because while he practically owed the kid his kidney for saving him like that, it didn't mean he got to keep the spotlight. Even if it meant he had to strangle the butterflies in his stomach to keep them quiet, he would play.

Legend drew in a breath and blasted out the next note. Wind scoffed out a single “Dude!” but Legend overpowered that as well. He pouted again, and, to Legend's surprise, tried to play over him. Though, not really- he was harmonizing with him, forcing the dynamic up or down, and mixing his own energy in, one that Legend could not hope to synthesize. Not that he wanted to. It was a brattish energy, anyway. 

Four was getting louder. He was adding tension, and sending a message to the two of them: their time was coming to a close.

Wind heard it, loud and clear. He pushed against Legend’s melody. Part of him screamed at him to let him have control, to give him the finale, but his pride refused. He stood like a wall before Wind’s grabs at the spotlight. He had glissandos, grace notes, and pitch bends, but so did any half-decent trombone player. Not only could Legend do the same, he also knew exactly how to prod him where it hurt.

Let’s see how high you can go, sailor.

He blocked out the smithy’s warnings and began baiting Wind into a climb. He fell for it, hook line and sinker. B flat? Easy! C sharp? What a joke! He didn’t suspect a thing.

It was when they started to reach the higher portions of the scale that Legend detected some strain in Wind’s tone. He pushed higher. E. Running out of time, said Four. F, A flat. Wind didn’t follow. With a soaring sense of exhilaration, Legend landed the final high B flat. It was an easy victory, but a victory nonetheless.

At least, it was, until Wind hit an entire note higher.

Legend gawked at the cackling sailor. It was too late to make a comeback, the rest of the band had already moved on. Legend rolled his eyes. Just like him to get the last word. He had to laugh, though. Wind looked so proud of himself.

“Bet you aren’t thinking about your boyfriend now, huh?” he gloated.

Legend blinked. Had- Had that all been some grand scheme to get his confidence back? That rat! “I’ll think about wringing your neck!” he retorted angrily.

Unfortunately, he was right. Legend hardly felt any anxiety. Mental note: strangle him when we finish here.

It didn’t take long before the song was over and Wind was bowing theatrically. Legend was out of breath, dehydrated, and on the border of passing out, but he loved it. He felt alive again. He accepted Wars’ water bottle again. He practically emptied it, for how parched his lips were.

“Chapstick?” Wars offered, holding out a stick of his favorite brand.

Legend wrinkled his nose at it. “I’m not touching anything that has been anywhere near your lips.”

“What, like my water bottle?” Wars challenged lightly, waving the chapstick in his face.

“Fine. Gimme that,” he muttered, snatching the small tube from his brother’s fingers. He applied it as quickly as possible before shoving it back in its owner’s hands. He would never admit how useful it was, especially after so long arguing that it was for girls.

He only wished there was such a simple remedy for the ache that was beginning to form around his cheeks. That solo had really taken a toll on his embourchure.

Legend rubbed his face while Four walked by. The smith paused by him, his reddish-brown irises tinged by… guilt? Legend narrowed his eyes.

“That was a good solo back there,” he murmured. “You think you’ll be all right for this one?”

“I’m fine. Why do you care?” Legend responded tightly.

“Hey, look, I’m… I’m sorry. For teasing you.” Four winced. “I should’ve seen how badly it was affecting you. You’ll do great, okay? I mean, if I were Ravio, I’d be impressed regardless, but I know that’s not the reassurance you’re looking for.” 

Legend raised his eyebrows. An apology from the smithy? He knew it was bad, but not that bad.

…No, he shouldn’t make light of it, especially with how seriously Four was taking it. Or how seriously he took it, before the performance. That wasn’t fair.

“It’s not important,” Legend sighed. “I should be the one wishing you good luck. You’re singing.”

“Ha. So I take it we’re even now?” He held out his hand to shake. Legend took it, suppressing a smile.

“Thanks. Now, get lost, Sinatra,” Legend said.

Four chuckled and shook his head. He made his way to the piano just as Time finished up. Fable back on the sax and Wild on the drums, he raised his hand to cue the song.

He dropped it for the last time.

Wild tapped a smooth, bouncy beat on his hi-hat. Fable followed along, surprisingly mild for someone of her disposition. He’d never heard her handle the melody so… gently, before. Usually only Four had that kind of grace with the saxophone. Speaking of Four, the twinkling, playful piano notes complimented that laid-back style very nicely. Legend inserted his cup mute into his bell with a sort of contentment he hadn’t felt since Ravio left.

He had forgotten what it was like to actually enjoy music.

Four’s voice was glad to show him how much he had missed. If Wild and Fable were smooth, the smithy’s voice was like the outside of a fresh apple, ripe and shiny with morning dew. Warm, too, like pie crust.

Legend couldn’t wait to share another apple pie with Ravio.

“Well, here we are again

It’s always such a pleasure…”

Of course, this song wasn’t exactly meant to be cozy and reassuring. Legend was just getting restless.

Wind and Twilight, crescendo with a forte-piano.

An ebb and flow in Fable’s dynamic. Grow, pull back.

Wars counting rests under his breath. Legend felt an itch on the back of his neck. He was impatient, and his constant counting didn’t help.

“Oh, how we laughed and laughed!

Except I wasn't laughing…”

Legend could hear Four's smile. He loved this song. 

Soft falls muted by the cups in their trumpets. Mischievous, like a cat leaping nimbly from one bookshelf to the next. Or like the sailor, sneaking sweets from Legend's stash.

“You want your freedom, take it!

That's what I'm counting on!”

Wind crept into the lead, swaying from one note to the next gracefully. He treated the song like a waltz, but exaggerated comedically in its romance. Ravio swooning dramatically came to mind.

“I used to want you dead, but now I only want you gone!”

The whole band swung into action. Wild slammed on the snares, Fable sang into her sax with a dramatic volume worthy of Wind’s pride while the brass accented the offbeats, finishing with a flourishing trill.

The dynamic dropped. Four retained his eagerness, sounding just as smugly joyful as ever. The sax followed his lead.

“She was a lot like you-”

He chuckled. “Well, maybe not quite as heavy!”

That was Wind's favorite part. It took a considerable amount of effort not to snicker at the combined force of the lyric and the smithy's delivery.

Another band-wide crescendo, led by trumpets. Glittering piano notes followed, dancing daintily in Legend's ears. 

“One day they woke me up

So I could live forever

It's such a shame the same could never happen to you!”

Four's voice swelled brightly, leading the band from a mezzo-piano to a forte. Fable acted like this was her solo, announcing her counter melody to the whole audience. Wild mimicked the accents Wars and Legend made with a crash on the cymbals. He was having just as much fun as Four was. 

“I'll let you get right to it-

Now I only want you gone!”

The rest of the band dropped away, allowing the piano and the drums to lead as Four began his monologue. Legend bit his lip. His solo was just around the corner. He grabbed Wars’ water bottle again and stole a quick sip. 

At Four's “Take it away!”, his brothers took the lead. 

Legend hardly paid attention to the rise in energy. This was it. He promised Ravio a good show. After that trick Wind played on him back in the last song, he intended to follow through. 

Here!

He climbed into his solo. He imitated Four's languid ease with Wind's cocky eagerness to show off in the little slurs and tremolos he slipped into the solo. His heart pounded viciously against his chest. He went from note to note with little flourishes that were subtle but painted with just enough color to give it life. Thank Farore for Sky's bass, keeping him in time while his fingers itched to go faster than he had the ability to. But he kept it smooth and lilting as he repeated the melody of the chorus-

And just like that, it was over. His solo, finished. Audience clapping excitedly at the performance. Fable easing the band into a soft dynamic before dropping away completely. Before he knew it, Sky was playing his own solo while Four sang along:

“Goodbye my only friend…

Oh, ha, did you think I meant you?

This song really fit Four, Legend thought vaguely. Quick-witted, mischievous, and laid-back. Maybe  even a little arrogant. 

Had he really just done that? Had he really just pulled off that solo like it was just an everyday warm up scale, after all his anxiety just put him through? He snorted softly with incredulous indignance. 

It shouldn't have been that easy. But it was.

Wild's cue! Legend snapped dizzily back to attention. Neither he nor Wars were coming in any time soon, but he had to be ready. He listened in on Wars’ counting and quickly found his spot in the rest.

“Well, you have been replaced

I don't need anyone now…”

Again, Fable’s time to shine. Crescendo. Getting bigger, louder louder louder, play, support Fable, louder louder, howl out your part until you're faint from using too much air. Legend's lungs felt ready to burst, his lips burned. 

“Go make some new disaster!

That's what I'm countin’ on!”

He could do it. He could reach the end of the song. The light was at the end of the tunnel. The light was in his eyes, he had shifted too far to the left and now a spotlight was beaming directly into them, he kept playing.

“You're someone else's problem; now I only want you gone!”

Keep playing, it's almost done, just two more lines and he could see Ravio-

“Now I only want you gone!”

Ravio, had he seen the solo? Was he even here yet?

“Now I only want you gone!”

Focus, finish off strong.

“Now I only want you gone-!”

Four sustaining the note, steady, swing into the accent, hold hold hold, drop down low-

“I want you gone!”

With that, the band pulled back, Wars finished the song with a flaunting swing and grace note, Wild thumped his bass.

Done. Finished. Over. No more. He finished the song, and he hadn't messed up.

And the crowd went wild. 

Time bowed. He gestured to the soloists- him and Sky and Four. They dipped their heads, Four with significantly less humility. Legend licked his lips as he stared at his feet. He felt like he had just run a marathon.

A poke on his shoulder. Legend straightened his back. He followed Wars' outstretched finger, past Time's hand showing him off as a soloist, and- oh.

There he was. Standing in the middle of the audience, clapping his hands eagerly. His adoptive sister was beside him, but Legend's eyes never left the man for a second.

“Ravio,” he whispered.

He moved without thinking. He pushed his trumpet into his brother's hands. Wars gawked as he leaped off the stage and into the rows of chairs. Heart racing so quickly he feared it might escape, he ran up the aisle. 

There he was. Right there, grinning from ear to ear, calling out his name with a voice too soft to be heard over the crowd. Goddess d— him. That insufferable smile. It had no right to make him feel this way. So unfairly happy.

The rest was a blur. Ravio wrestled his way to the aisle, Legend only increased his breakneck pace; Ravio beamed, laughing his name, and they collided.

Ravio's arms squeezed him tight, twirling him around like the couples in those cheesy romance movies. Even as his feet planted on the ground, Legend didn't want to let go. He wanted to make sure this stupid rabbit never left his sight again.

Ravio pulled away, holding his face with the gentlest hands, grinning through teary eyes. “I take it you missed me, Mister Hero?” he chuckled.

By the Three, now he was crying. “Of course I missed you, you idiot!” he choked out.

“I missed you too,” Ravio breathed. 

He leaned forward and the last bit of Legend's restraint crumbled. His lips crashed against Ravio's before he could draw out the moment any longer, his hand reaching to tangle with his partner's smooth, inky locks. Ravio let out a tiny squeak of surprise before leaning into the kiss.

Legend's lips buzzed; he couldn't tell if the sensation came from his trumpet or Ravio. He couldn't care less. His mind was on Ravio's soft hands, on his tender touch, on the ghost of a smile he could feel through the kiss. 

Legend's heart had climbed up his throat by the time it was over. He noted vaguely that the audience was roaring and clapping, and that Fable's voice boomed over the speakers, hollering, “That's my brother!” Meanwhile, he couldn't decide whether to punch Ravio or let the tears flow. He swallowed hard, his eyes locking on Ravio's rupee-green ones.

“You kiss like you've been playing trumpet for an hour,” he teased.

Legend's face flushed red. “Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Aw, I didn't mean it,” he giggled, squishing him in another hug. “I just missed seeing your grumpy face.”

“You're the worst.”

“Don't get too sappy, you two.” Legend whipped around, greeted by Ravio's boss herself. Hilda, with a cocked eyebrow and folded arms, dressed in a blazer and skirt not unlike Fable's slightly more masculine suit. Her violet-painted lips twitched upwards in amusement. “You'll make the audience gag on their lunches.”

“I think I'm gagging on my lunch,” Legend complained.

Ravio gasped in mock offense, but Hilda shrugged. “Your sister does seem to be enjoying this…”

Legend glanced over at the stage and groaned. Of course she was. Of course she was hopping up and down in ecstasy, shaking poor, helpless Four back and forth while screaming with Wind. Of course she had to rope Sky and Wars into it- and was that Rulie cheering with them? Well, now Legend felt extra betrayed.

Warm fingers lacing with his drew his attention back to his partner. Ravio squeezed his hand and smiled. Legend had to wrestle his own into a disapproving scowl before he could see it.

“What do you say we put your trumpet away and go out for dinner?” he proposed. “That way we could get some time alone to relax and catch up some way other than over text?”

Legend folded his arms. “So, you expect me to forgive you, just like that? After being gone so long?”

Ravio laughed nervously. “If you wouldn't mind?”

“I suppose I can give you another chance,” he muttered. “And I'm paying. Yes, Hilda, I know you paid for everything back there.” He waved dismissively, then eyed Ravio out of the corner of his eye. “I'll let him hold on to his rupees just this once. Now excuse me while I go murder my sister.”

He dipped his head politely to the businesswoman before dashing off to the stage. He leaped up, much to Wind's delight and Time's resigned disappointment, and jabbed a finger at Fable. She squealed and hid behind Four, who sighed and stepped aside. 

“You!” Legend barked. “Get over here before I break your reeds!”

Fable gaped dramatically. “You wouldn't!”

“I will!”

“Whoa there, Ledge,” Wars said lightly. “Save the death threats for when the instruments are away, hm?”

Legend sniffed, swiping his trumpet from his hands and not-so-subtly emptying his spit valve on his foot. Wars yelped and jumped hilariously. “Legend!” he swore. “That's disgusting!”

“I bet it tastes like your lipstick,” he snarked.

Fable snickered. Legend brandished his trumpet threateningly and said, “What, you want some too?”

His sister screeched and ran off backstage. Legend made to pursue her, but Twilight gave him a look. He wrinkled his nose and dusted off his suit. She wasn't worth the trouble, anyway. 

He decided to make his way offstage to delicately take apart his instrument. He had a date to prepare for! Fable could wait.

Besides, he had plenty of time to daydream of revenge on the way out.

Legend grinned devilishly. She won't know what hit her.

He left the building whistling cheerfully.

----

A/N: Thank you for reading, but I do have to add a disclaimer. Please, please, please do not jump off a stage like Legend did. The last time someone did that at my school, they broke their ankle. I repeat, do not jump off a stage. 

Take care, all of you! ❤️

[viperrot]

⇁high school sweethearts | leon kennedy | pt. 3

resident evil 4 remake leon s. kennedy x fem!band-student!reader high school au

you and your brother spend time together at a local diner. of course, you see leon there—with a pretty girl no less!

pt. 1 pt.2 pt.4

content contains: mild angst, mild enemies to lovers, mean leon, cliches, story is told in first person, reader is a bit shy and is an oboe and trumpet player!, leon and reader are in their juniour year, fictional town set around 1980!

not proofread i am sleepy

2252 words

song rec: "little nocturne" by hiroshi takaki

The little bell above the shop's wooden, yellow door jingles as Damien and I enter, and the smell of carpet and fresh paper fills my senses. The music shop is painted in a warm light, the wooden walls lined with an assortment of instruments ranging from guitars, drums, and a few brass, although very few. There's a few pianos tucked into corners, and shelves of lesson books and other arrangements are shoved into them. I've been here many times before, and the shop owner often gives me discounts with how frequently I visit. There's no one behind the register, so I assume whoever's working today is in the back.

"Mrs. Conaway?" I call out, eyes darting around the shop. From behind a shelf, a little head peeps out, revealing a frail woman in her late fifties. Her glasses make her eyes bubble, and her salt-n-pepper hair is tied up in a chaotic mess atop her head.

"Ah, good morning, you two!" Mrs. Conaway smiles goofily, waddling out from behind the wooden shelf. "I assume you're here for your oboe?"

"That 'n some slide grease. I'm running a bit low," I chuckle dryly, walking with the elderly woman to the register. To the left of the register is a glass case showing off a variety of wind instruments. There's flutes, a few piccolos, a trumpet mouthpieces, a single trombone, and finally...

The F. Lorée classic oboe.

My dream instrument since beginning junior high. A professional level oboe going for over three-thousand dollars, the Lorée company has been making them for almost a century, known famously for their beautifully crafted instruments. I had been saving up for one post-high school since my freshman year.

"Y'think daddy's money can afford that?" Damien nudges me with a joking smile, referring to the extra cash I'll be getting from tutoring the girls. I roll my eyes.

"Maybe," I chuckle. Mrs. Conaway pulls out a beat-up looking case from behind the register as Damien and I banter, setting it on top of the instrument display case to show it to me.

"It's an intermediate brand. I hope it isn't too bad," she gives me a sheepish grin.

"Don't worry!" I mirror her smile, popping open the case to give the double reed instrument a look. It's a little dirty and the corks look drier than a desert, but it was nothing I couldn't fix. "It's perfect, Mrs. Conaway. Thank you so much," I nod at her, clicking the oboe case shut carefully. She clasps her hands together happily.

"I'm so glad to hear that! And remember, you don't have'ta pay me for it. It's the least I can do for my sweetest customer!" The elderly woman says giddily.

"Agh, even so... I really appreciate it, Mrs. Conaway. I'll return it as soon as I get a new one," I promise her. She pushes the case toward me, eager for me to get on with playing it and also for me to leave so she can keep working. Damien and I walk out of the shop, stepping out into the sun that shun down onto the busy town centre.

"So...?" Damien looks at me with a wicked smirk. "We got the car for the day... are ya thinkin' what I'm thinkin', thumper?" He swings his arm over my shoulders. I eye him with a quirked brow. As if reading each other's mind, we shout in unison,

"ICE CREAM 'N JOYRIDES!"

Our cheer echoes down the street, but we giggle as if there's nothing wrong in the world. We jog over to the Impala, hopping in quickly before driving off to the best restaurant in the world—Hattie's. A local favourite, and everyone here swears that it sells the best shakes you could possibly imagine. Mrs. Hattie L. Parker started the old shoppe when Everglade was first founded in 1957 at the age of 22, and it's been a staple ever since in this old town. I can't name a single person here that doesn't frequent the place.

We pull into an empty spot with "Come On Eileen" playing lowly from the radio. As soon as we park, we throw ourselves out of the car, racing each other to the door of the diner while giggling all the way. I decide to bring my hand-me-down oboe with me, wanting to get some repair as soon as possible.

"You're cheating!" Damien yelps when he sees me get to the glass door faster than him.

"Nuh uh?! It's not my fault I'm just a lil closer to the door compared to you!" I cackle, pushing the door open with my back as I hug my case to my chest. My older brother gives me a rough pat on the head, jostling my hair around with his palm. I grunt at the affection, trying to pull him off of me as we stumbled into the bustling diner. It's almost packed, most of the booths and counter seats taken up. As Damien and I look around for a seat, I lock eyes with him.

In a booth is Leon Scott Kennedy, sitting with three other people. Next to him is the famous Ada Wong, known across the school for being the one of best lacrosse players in the county, as well as my graduate year's class president. I can't see the other two he's sitting with from where I'm standing, but I'm assuming it's someone from her little posse that's been at her feet since freshman year.

I feel myself shrink as I make eye contact with him, unconsciously drifting to stand behind my brother. Leon's got the same glare I saw him give me before Damien and I left to get my new oboe, which was clutched tightly to my front. I notice he changed his clothes, sporting a deep blue sweater with a white collared shirt beneath it.

Damien notices how quiet I'm being and follows my gaze.

"You good, thump- Oh..." The boy sneers at the sight of the ace. He squeezes my shoulder softly. "Ignore 'em, sis. Let's sit over here," he grunts, spinning me toward an empty booth at the opposite end of the diner. We settle into the red, leather seats, immediately ordering a sodapop and a banana-split to share between us. I keep my head down, eyes trained on the oboe case on the table.

Carefully, I open it to reveal the old thing. Rummaging through the case, I pull out a tube of cork grease and get to work. I'm careful as I apply the lubricant onto the dry corks, trying not to put too much on to avoid them get soft and even more flakey. All the while, I can feel the stares on me.

I look up hesitantly, eyes immediately settling on Leon. His arm is wrapped around Ada Wong's shoulder, fingers playing with the threads of her black cardigan. My fingers tighten around the lower piece of my oboe, an odd feeling in my chest as I watch the blonde be so casual with someone I assume he's only known for a day. Suddenly, he looks up at me, seeming just as confused as I am. I quickly look back down at the parts in my case, praying he didn't catch me staring.

"Can't believe he's hangin' out with Wong and her best friend," Damien huffs, fiddling with the turkey feather for my oboe. I remember that he and Ada had a thing going on before the summer. He never told me what happened—all I knew is that one night, he came home crying, and he sobbed about how much he loved her. I never brought it up since then, but tt finally occurs to me that Leon was most likely on a double date of sorts, and the ache in my chest worsens. Ada isn't really seen with boys outside of school unless she had some romantic interest in them...

"Are you really surprised, though? I mean, they're both heartless assholes with no personality," I sigh, setting the lower piece back into the case. I snag the feather out of Damien's fingers, stuffing it into velvet-lined container before closing it.

"Heh, I guess you're right," he chuckles.

Our order finally arrives, and I set my oboe in the booth next to me, making sure it won't fall again. Immediately, Damien tears apart the sweet treat we got, and I fear he won't spare me a bite. I laugh softly at his messy eating, the neapolitan ice cream smearing across his lips as he chowed down.

From the corner of my eye, I see my tormentor staring at me from his seat, and he's got this look in his eyes I can't quite place. His plump lips are pursed a little, and there's a small crease between his brows. I can't tell if he's looking here to judge me or if he's trying to brew up new ways to harass me. My heart pounds and I can feel a thin layer of sweat form at the top of my neck as I stress.

"Do you want to leave, (Y/n)?" My brother asks, looking up from the bowl of ice cream. His voice is stern, and I can tell he isn't playing around.

"Uhm..." I bite the inside of my cheek, thinking of what to do. "I... I think I'll be okay," I swallow dryly, reaching out for the glass of sodapop to take a sip. Damien seems unconvinced with the way he's narrowing his eyes at me.

"M'kay..." he grunts, going back to eating the sundae. I take a few nibbles as well, trying my best to ignore the way Leon watched me from his seat across the room.

He's on a date with someone... Why is he so focused on me?

Thankfully, Damien finishes off the ice cream quickly. With the way he's so jittery, I can tell he wants to leave, too. We stack our plates close to the end of the table so it's easier to clean up before we head to the register, wanting to pay and leave as soon as possible. I carry my oboe case behind my back, swaying back and forth on my heels as my brother pays for our treat. When we turn around to leave, we're face to face with the people we wanted to avoid.

"Dami, it's good to see you again. Couldn't you bother to say hello?" The girl in red smiled up at my big brother. Finally, I have a good look of the group.

Ada's dressed in her classic colours, the scarlet sweater-dress tight against her bosom that's accentuated by the cross hanging by her neck. Her ebony cardigan is kept over her arm as she stands with her hip popped out a bit, making her hourglass figure apparent.

Leon's sweater-collared combo was paired with mocha coloured dress pants, the sleeves of his shirts rolled up to his elbows to show off his muscle.

The other couple accompanying them, I gave no attention to, instead tugging at Damien's shirt in attempt to ground him

"That's rich coming from someone who didn't have the balls to say goodbye to me," my brother says through gritted teeth, his eye twitching lightly as his knuckles turned white. Ada gave him a hearty laugh.

"Oh, Dami, that was so long ago. I'm surprised you even remembered with how drunk you were," she chuckles, wiping a tear from her eye. This comment concerned me. My brother was drinking...?

"Don't fuckin' call me that," he seethed. I clutch the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling on it lightly.

"Damien, let's just go," I plead, not wanting the situation to get worse.

"You got a new clarinet, huh?" Leon states, pointing at the case I held at my side. I look at him, terrified that he'll snatch it out of my hands and shatter it just like the last. I hide it behind my back cautiously.

"Y-yes..." I squint at the blonde man. "Now, if you'll just... excuse us," I coughed, dragging Damien by his shirt as I tugged him behind me, squeezing between Ada and Leon to get through.

My side bumps into Leon's, and something within me feels... uneasy. The contact was quick, but I felt like I was burning up when I felt the skin of his arm graze against my own. I mumble a quick "excuse me" as we pass the two brats, my oboe case clutched tightly in my hands. Damien and I walk out the door, and I try my best not to look back.

I can feel Leon's piercing stare on the back of my head, following me as if I was some sort of prey.

What does he want from me?

"Are you okay, Dami?" I worry, my hand rubbing his arm comfortingly the moment we're out of the diner. His eyes are clearly droopy, and I just know he wants to go home now when he flashes a tired smile.

"M'okay, sis... Just... Didn't think she'd talk to me, y'know?" He chortles humourlessly. I hum in understanding, helping him to the driver side of the Impala.

"Let's go home, Dami," I say, sad that our day of fun was so quickly soured.

There was one thing on my mind on the drive home. Thoughts of Leon's odd behaviour threw me into a dizzy. Why does he hate me so much that he's willing to glare at me across the room? Why does he even care?

High schoolers are so weird...

is he actually dating ada? hmm... guess we'll find out :p pt.4

[colgatebluemintygel]

hello lovely toothpaste! if no one else has asked, I'd love to hear about love n longing at the edge of the world!

HELLO LOVELY KARFY WARFY !!! hehe i'm so glad you asked about this one; it is particularly near n dear to my heart .. sometimes i get very tired of trying to squeeze my mind into the brain of a british man, and decided it could be a bit of fun to write what i actually know for once :o))) so !!! this is a muggle au set in nz and it follows each of the 4 main laddos throughout their final year of uni

remus is the deeply strange spawn of hippies who walks on stilts, plays the trombone, and has a thing for ugly vests. he subsists mainly off of soup and broke up with tonks just before the events of the main story <33 (this r is so special to me i could talk about him for hours .. my fav freak fr...)

sirius is a fine arts student n in a band (of the post-punk persuasion), and his plot line largely revolves around identity: he's māori but was adopted by pākehā (who he is now estranged from), and it will follow his journey of learning abt his ancestry and reclaiming his culture and language (this particular plotline is extremelyyy dear 2 me ..) (also fun fact takurua is the te reo name for the dog star and was instrumental in early māori sea faring !! in this fic takurua is sirius's birth name, which was anglicised when he was adopted)

peter is thoroughly stuck in a rut;; he's doing a degree he hates and feels like his friends' lives are moving on and he's just stuck in the same place waiting to catch up . enter fabian, a chaotic party boy who studies art with sirius (they hate each other lol), who helps peter to come out of his shell and forge his own identity ;; but where peter is discovering himself n falling in love, fabian is self-destructing ...

JAMES works at a supermarket <3 he dropped out of med school after having a nervous breakdown and is currently taking a gap year ;; he texts the wrong number one night (he tried to buy a fish tank off facebook marketplace and got scammed Lol ;; they gave him what they thought was a fake number !) n becomes deeply obsessed w the snarky recipient of his texts (wonder who....!)

so yes... messy early 20's shenanigans !! wolfstar friends w benefits nonsense !! ft many gigs and pints and late night jazz and remus getting chased by sea lions <3

[yume-chin]

First meeting

I know it's a trivial chapter but I wanted to create a starting point for all future rottmnt postings.

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Request: No

Warning: Mention of arguing with parents, mild bullying and bad English

Genre: She/her

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Pov: You and the turtles meet for the first time.

Version: RotTmnt

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Total words: 2466

Leo: 620

Raph: 458

Donnie: 609

Mikey: 619

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Leo

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You walking the streets of New York trying to clear your head and let off some steam. As often happened, even today you had a nasty argument with your parents. Nothing important, they just don't seem to fully understand you.

As you passed in front of a dark alley you hear moans of pain.

Your first instinct was to run away but you quickly stopped and rushed to help the injured person. If that person is sick, you can't leave them in trouble.

Arrived at the point where you had heard the moans coming you expect to see a wounded boy and instead your gaze crosses with that of a creature with greenish skin and a blue shell.

You stand there looking at him for a few seconds until you snap back to reality and rush to his side.

"Don't worry, everything will be fine, I just want to help you" you try to reassure him.

The guy in front of you doesn't seem to have the same ideas as you but he still lets you approach and touch him.

You look at it carefully and after a while you look around. "Can you walk a little longer?" the boy nods and you help him to stand up and stand.

"I'll take you to my house so I can bandage your wounds" you try to walk but the boy stops. "I can't get in the door, too many people would see me"

You start looking around until you notice the fire escapes.

"We'll go through there then" you indicate. The boy nods and then you help him up to your window.

"One last effort and we'll finally be there" you encourage him and then help him enter.

As soon as inside you make him sit on your bed and then run to the bathroom of your room to get a medical kit. You check on the fly that everything you need is there and run back to him.

"I warn you that I'm not a nurse but I'll try to help you as best I can" the boy nods and you start treating him.

While you were still intent on disinfecting and treating his wounds the boy took courage and spoke “thank you for the help you are giving me”

You are a little surprised but you smile at him "that's okay"

"Aren't you afraid of me?"

"should I? are you going to kill me? I ask because in these conditions I don't think you could do much" you chuckle

The boy fell silent again.

"However can I know your name?"

The young man looked at you for a moment and answered shortly after.

"My name is Leonardo, but everyone calls me Leo"

"Oh so nice to meet you Leo, I'm Y/n" you smile getting a smile back.

"Anyway, I'm done with this, I patched you up as best I could, now try not to get yourself into trouble, Leo" you scold him.

The boy laughed "I'll try, but I'm going now, my family will be worried" he went to the window

"okay, it was nice to meet you, come and see me sometime" you smile at him.

Leo stopped walking out and walked over to you giving you a big hug "I sure will, and thanks for everything for your help, I owe you my life"

"Exaggerated!!" you giggle releasing then the embrace "take care of yourself" you caress his arm.

"I will, see you Y/n" he gives you a last goodbye with a wave of his hand and then goes out the window.

Well, from an evening that you needed to ease tensions you ended up helping a giant humanoid turtle, everyday things if you want-

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Raph

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Today was a tiring day. School, training, studying... The only thing you wanted was some rest but of course you weren't allowed that.

You returned home late and had just stretched out on the bed when suddenly, from your brother's room, located next to yours, a loud and annoying noise does not start coming out. His trombone.

Exactly, your brother joined the school band to play the trombone but he's still a beginner, so the melody he produces is more like a mix of off-key notes.

By now tired and exasperated the only thing that occurred to you to do was to go up on the roof to read a book.

So you leave the house until you reach the top floor where, thanks to a staircase that leads to the roof hatch, you don't go up to the roof with a good book in hand.

You sit down not far from the trapdoor and start reading but shortly after you start hearing a voice coming from not far away.

Being on the roof you found it something very strange and, assailed by curiosity, you decide to go and check.

As you thought, not far from you you notice a large shape. Too big to be a normal human being.

Paying closer attention you notice that the figure in front of you has spikes on its body and a shell.

After a while, the figure you were staring at notices you and lets out a frightened scream.

Taken aback you whirl around to see if there was anyone trying to attack you from behind but not noticing anyone you turn back to the huge figure.

"Why did you scream?! I thought there was some person ready to attack me! Are you crazy?!"

The boy seems to be shocked by your reaction.

"Everything is fine?"

"Aren't you afraid of me?"

You look at him confused "Should I?"

"Well, look at me, I'm a huge mutant turtle, everyone who sees me thinks I'm monstrous!"

"Oh my, monstrous is too heavy a word. Maybe it fits better -particular-. let's say it's not every day you have such an encounter with a giant mutant tortoise" you chuckle "and anyway there is nothing more monstrous than my brother playing the trombone. Seeing is believing!"

"No no thanks, I take you word for it" You both burst out laughing.

"However, nice to meet you, I'm Y/n"

"And I'm Raphael, but you can call me Raph"

"Cool name!"

"Thank you"

Suddenly you hear a voice calling your name.

"Oh! I have to go now, hope to see you again Raph!" you smile at him.

"I'll come back to see you then"

"Good! See you then!" you wave to him before returning to the building.

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Donnie

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It was a Sunday like any other and since you had finished all your homework for the week, you thought about spending an alternative morning.

You're a big science buff and there's no better place for you than to go to the New York City Science Museum.

It wasn't the first time you went to the museum but you can say with certainty that every time you entered there you felt the same emotions as the first time you entered through the main door.

You woke up early in the morning to get ready. You've decided to wear a purple sweatshirt, your favorite sweatshirt. You took the keys and hurried out so you could be among the

first to enter.

As soon as you entered, you didn't waste time visiting the rooms of the museum that you knew by heart by now.

As you walked you started looking around. You had the feeling that someone was staring at you.

You tried to ignore the sensation and continued your visit until the sensation got worse.

You turned around again and this time you saw a guy staring at you, and the first thing you noticed was that he was wearing the exact same sweatshirt as yours.

You stood there looking at him for a while and then gave him a slight wave of your hand to greet him smiling at him.

You turned around again, andcome back to look at the wonders on display at the museum. You walked quietly for a few more minutes until a hand touched your shoulder making you jump.

You looked at the one who touched your shoulder and you saw the boy from before.

"I wanted to tell you that you have a nice sweatshirt"

You smile at him "Well, thank you"

“I am Donatello, or Donnie, whichever you prefer”

“Nice to meet you Donnie, I'm Y/n” you extend your hand.

You see that he stays looking at her for a while and then hesitantly grabs her.

It's only at that moment that you notice that it had a particular appearance but you didn't start investigating.

"Am I wrong or do I think I've seen you here before?"

“Probably, I come here often”

"Science buff?"

"Yes and not only" you giggle looking into his eyes

"Really? What else are you interested in?”

“I also love technology and engineering”

“Woo, you are the first person I meet who has the same interests as me”

“Well, I'll consider myself one of a kind then,” you chuckle.

“How about finishing this museum visit together? Always if you want to be clear!! I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to!!”

I burst out laughing at his flustered reaction and it made him relax a bit.

"Of course I like it, you're too nice to say no" You smile at him.

And so you spent a quiet morning in each other's company. You have discovered that you have many other things in common, between passions and personal tastes.

It was a very pleasant morning.

When you get to the exit you have looked at each other.

"Well... we finished the visit huh"

"Already…"

“How about we meet again? Another walk like this, nothing demanding, always if you want!!”

You gently grab the sleeve of him sweatshirt  "Donnie, don't worry" you smile at him "I would really like it"

“How about next Sunday at 09 in front of the technology museum”

"Certainly! See you on Sunday then!"

"See you on Sunday"

You say a last goodbye and then part ways and everyone goes back to their homes, with the excitement of the next meeting.

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Mikey

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You left school relatively late, had extracurricular classes and were exhausted.

The only thing you wanted to do was go home and lie down in bed.

At least that's what you wanted to do until you passed the arcade.

You tried with all your might not to fall into temptation and to go straight to go home but in the end you entered with the premise of playing only a few games and nothing more.

You went straight to the coin change machine and put in a $5 bill. You waited a few seconds until the tokens were dispensed.

You grabbed them and headed to your favorite game.

You inserted the coin and started playing attracting some boys curious about your skill.

Game after game you were winning many tickets for prizes but suddenly you got stuck.

You heard a very familiar voice. It was the voice of one of the bullies at your school.

They personally never did anything wrong to you but they were well known for their barbaric ways of relating to people and their squalor in stealing money from smaller boys to spend it in the arcade.

Tired of their attitudes you took your points by putting them in your backpack and leaving the game halfway through and headed towards them.

“Hey you!”

The two bullies turned to you.

"What do you want little girl?"

"Forget that poor boy"

“These are none of your business! We let you go because you're a girl, but if you poke your nose into things that don't concern you, we'll beat you up!"

“Oh? Really?"

"Yes, really! So go ahead, are you still in time!”

"Come on then!"

"You wanted it!"

The two boys threw themselves at you but you easily managed to throw both of them to the ground.

You have practiced karate and self-defense since you were little, that's why you were able to defend yourself with great simplicity.

The two looked at each other panicked and got up quickly trembling.

“Don't think we're going to run over this thing! Next time you won't be so lucky!” and in a very short while they were running away in fear.

You immediately turned around and helped the boy who had been surrounded by the two bullies to get up.

"Are you OK?"

“Yes, thank you very much”

"Don't thank me, the important thing is that you're fine"

“You were amazing to knock them out!”

"Thank you but I really didn't do anything that"

"However, nice to meet you, I'm Michelangelo but you can call me Mikey"

“I am Y/n”

"Sounds cool!"

“Is that wrong or is it a skateboard?”

“No, you're not wrong, it's really a skate”

“Why don't we go to the skate park together sometime?”

“I like it as an idea!”

you suddenly remember the stitches you put inside the backpack.

“Mikey, come with me!”

You take his hand and drag him to the pick-up point.

"Hi, I would like two of those" you indicate two sachets with stickers.

The guy behind the counter hands them to you and you hand one to Mikey

“Here you go, they are skateboard stickers, I hope you like them”

“I-I can't accept them! You won them, they're yours!"

“Yes, you can accept them! Take them as a sign of our new friendship."

The boy looked at you for a moment and then smiled and grabbed them.

"Then thank you"

"You're welcome"

You're gaze falls on the clock.

"Hate! It's very late, I have to go home!"

You quickly grab your backpack.

“Tomorrow night I'm going to the skatepark, hope to meet you there! Bye bye Mikey”

You wave at him and then run out and run back home.

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I'm too excited to release these one-shorts.

I love RotTmnt too much and I needed to write something for them.

I hope you enjoy them! ʚ✩ɞ

A big hug ♡

[goodbysunball]

Digital monsters

Sneaking a few in before April's done and gone. Many of these musics were experienced digitally only for the most part, whether it was due to lack of a physical product or expensive import prices, none of which now apply (except for the Stone Rollers) as I finally get around to posting this. Ian's making Light Metal Age tapes, MIKE just put Pinball on CD, I finally pulled the trigger on KN​Æ​KKET SMIL, etc. Still, the car is the place where most listening is done these days, an unavoidable and really-not-that-bad reality. Windows down, these up:

Maria Bertel & Nina Garcia, KN​Æ​KKET SMIL (Kraak/No Lagos Musique/Otomatik)

It would not be much of an understatement to say I'm a bit burned out on free-improv-jazz and adjacent records, but a live video posted earlier this year by @dustedandsocial piqued my interest in this duo. Nina Garcia shreds and mangles the guitar in a manner both controlled and explosive, like the best no wave auteurs, but the draw here is what Maria Bertel does with the trombone. She pulls these long, drawn-out notes from the belly of the instrument, like glass fibers being pulled from a melt, reminiscent Phill Niblock's arrangements for cello or voice. There's plenty of scrape 'n skronk coming from the trombone, too, like on "Trick & Illusion," but I find the bass-y drones to be more interesting. The end result is a brittle, harsh push-pull between the relatively free guitar and the more grounded trombone, where it often sounds like the two are running in circles in a room with their eyes closed, occasionally colliding to combine forces. When they are not at odds, as on "Nightmare of a Lunatic," the results can be thrilling. At other points on the record I am reminded of Harvey Milk's "Pinnochio's Example" (the title track), later-period Sightings ("Lost Arts," "Twin Truths") and the instrumental side of Khanate ("Playground of Blind Forces," "Inorganic Body"). Given how this is presented - bare, without any perceivable ornamentation or post-production - it makes for a tough listen; you've gotta be in the mood for something this harsh and unadorned, 'cause meeting you halfway isn't happening. But, if you've any affinity for old instruments hammered into new shapes by inspired/inspiring hands, there's some powerful, almost-mystic energy wafting from the grooves.

Bobby Would, Relics of Our Life (Digital Regress)

Bobby’s back, continuing his partnership with the esteemed Digital Regress label, who brought his STYX release to the LP format. STYX was dedicated to his mother, and initial listens have left me convinced that Relics also appears to be wrestling with her passing. Unlike STYX, which contained tracks like "Hype On" that worked themselves into something resembling upbeat and energetic, Relics is a comparatively somber affair. It's bookended by two quiet instrumental tracks ("Runaway" is especially good), and in between is more skeletal, maybe even refined, version of Bobby Would. The overall effect here is often reminiscent of Wonderfuls, or Lewsberg on In Your Hands: gossamer-thin arrangements, sparkling guitars, slow tempos and mumbled vocals. While there are points where Bobby Would presents as a bit listless or hopeless, it never stretches to the maudlin, mostly due to the opaque phrasing. As on previous BW releases, the lyrics are still usually little more than repetition of single phrases until they become profound, which works especially well on these subdued arrangements. The more I listen, the more it sounds like a natural progression from his last two proper LPs, the subtle refinement of a now-signature sound. Like “Maybe You Should” from World Wide World, “Tryin' 2," "Is It Nice Now?" and “No More” rank with some of his best slow dancers; "Explain" and "All I Do" feel like Baby's grown now, using only the necessary elements to create a song and cutting the tape when it's done (not that Bobby Would has ever had a problem with economy). The only misstep here? The hidden track at the end of the physical record, a cover of UB40's "Red Red Wine" (no fucking joke), and nothing more need be said about that. The nine tracks that properly make up Relics of Our Life deserve to be lived in, spindly guitar lines swirling around like smoke and mumbled vocal incantations taking you elsewhere for the duration. Another unassuming gem from the surprisingly durable Bobby Would.

Light Metal Age, s/t (self-released)

In retrospect, I think Gen Pop's PPM66 is one of the best records to come out in the past decade, wringing modern ennui by the neck to squeeze out lyrical inspiration, nailing down a balance between catchy and smart in an impressively effortless way. That record flew, and still flies, under the radar, unfortunately, and the band is no more. Light Metal Age is the new project of Gen Pop's Ian Patrick Corrigan, and it sorta picks up the thread of PPM66, but veers off into the countrified black humor of Country Teasers ("Quil Ceda"), lonesome new age ("Oakland 2017"), and a chilling minimal synth track ("Garage In Meridian"). Corrigan's vocals sound like Bill Callahan in his early days as Smog, but in content he appears to be searching for a place or meaning or some sign that the world isn't as backwards and cruel as it actually is. I think opener "What He's Done" is my favorite song of the year so far, a perfectly dusty guitar line paired with deep, reverberated vocals coldly presenting a personal inventory (“Tattoos since he was 20,” “$20K he owes/20 years to go”). It’s all tied together by the chorus of “You said let it go/But do you know/what he’s done?,” the anxiety of being a prisoner of your past neatly summarized. “Quil Ceda" is my other standout favorite, the biting line "It will make you sick" now popping up in my head all too often as I go about my days. Really, there's something to like on every track here: the double-timed portion toward the end of "T.U.L.I.P."; the rain-soaked, pre-dawn alleys conjured by "Garage In Meridian"; and the subdued Ben Wallers impression on "Gaps In the Material." Sure, "Oakland 2017" is maybe a bit long and saps momentum plopped in the middle, but this seems more like a mixtape than a finished product, and I've come to appreciate the cracks in the tracks forced together. I've been playing it non-stop for nearly two months now, a potent distillation of the young American's modern struggle, laid out without self-pity and the right amount of simmering discontent. Can't ask for much more.

MIKE & Tony Seltzer, Pinball (10K)

Here’s an unexpectedly economical and breezy offering from MIKE, produced entirely by Tony Seltzer. Not sure what Tony Seltzer did here to allow MIKE to let down his guard and puff out his chest a little, but it’s a welcome change of pace, if a bit forgettable. Seltzer’s beats aren’t going to have many rappers come calling, but they’re exciting enough jumping off points for MIKE to try on different personas. I get hints of UGK-era Bun-B (named checked in “Underground Kingz,” as required), Young Dolph, and Lil Baby in MIKE’s rapping on Pinball, and it’s fun and jarring to hear him rap over trap beats like “Yin-Yang.” For all his efforts, the album lags in spots - “100 Gecs,” “Underground Kingz” and “R&B” have become laborious over multiple listens, the beats sputtering, the rapping losing steam without MIKE’s usual emotional overflow. But the opener “Two Door,” the unassuming bounce of “Skurrr” and "Pinball," and the Niontay-featuring “2k24 Tour” still connect, MIKE throwing off a satin boxing robe and sparring with whoever. It’s true that overexposure to this album over the past few weeks has probably taken away some of its luster, but hearing MIKE in this capacity paints a more complete picture of him as an artist. Short ‘n mostly sweet, with no tears, Pinball’s sure to be a steady listen through the punishing summer ahead.

The Stone Rollers, The Ballad of Bill Spears (self-released)

Are the Woolen Men done? Nothing official on that, but members are shifting priorities to other groups: guitarist Lawton Browning is in Change Life, and the Stone Rollers features WM drummer Raf Spielman. The Stone Rollers have been releasing single tracks, one at a time, since September of last year, and The Ballad of Bill Spears puts all four tracks together. It's a separate project and unfair to compare the two, though there are strong sonic similarities to the Woolen Men. The Stone Rollers are bouncy and hard-strumming, somewhere between folk protest songs (yes, there's harmonica) and country with a punk edge (but obviously not as bad as that descriptor conjures). In the spirit of the best country songs, the Stone Rollers don't restrain themselves from saying some really mean shit on these songs, taking people to task with an acid tongue and leaving without apology. I like all four songs - if you're not listening to the lyrics too closely, these are breezy pop songs with the strong character of the '60s - but I think "The Shell Song" and "You Can't Reach Me" are the two best. The former has the harshest lyrics ("When I see you down the line, I hope you're not the same" and "I won't wait around to see what you become/because good or bad I do not care at all"), and "You Can't Reach Me" is an ode to the dream of escaping "my life/bound up so tight" for the greener grass. All four tracks are simple and effective/affecting in an immediate way, familiar but bristling, classic-sounding but unmistakably modern. A nice teaser from the Rollers, who I can only hope will excoriate this feeble review on an upcoming track.

[frogmanfae]

Newsies as shit I've heard at Band Camp part 2

Albert: *about carrying his drum* If this is what sex feels like I don't want it

Davey: I... I'm pretty sure those are completely different experiences

Albert: I mean they both break your back so

Romeo: *squinting* Does that say foot together? Oh FOO FIGHTERS

Race: Who is the foo fighting?

Henry: You have to flip over so he can wrap it up and smash it off the back. Go ahead, touch him in places he's never felt before

Race: Albie your water bottle made me wet!!

Albert: *suggestively* what were you doing with it?

Race: I mean it is a long cylindrical-

Race: Excuse me I'm going to need to see a license for the amount of ass you're trucking around

Spot: BEND OVER WHITE MAN FLIP OVER

Finch: *whines of terror from his place underneath a chair*

Finch: That trombone belongs to the school it probably has black mold-

Davey: OH MY GOD THAT'S THE ONE WEED FELL OUT OF LAST YEAR

Race: *gets asked to homecoming with a big sign*

Everyone: awwww!

Albert: ewww!! boooooo!!!

Buttons: I just pissed for so long I feel dizzy, should I be concerned?

Tommy Boy: Listen I'm dyslexic I don't fuckin know

Race: What if I call Medda?

Jack: PLEASE DON'T

Race: *starts messaging her on Facebook*

Race: *suggestively* Don't worry he lets me sit on him

Davey: aren't you a freshman??

Blink: Oh my god the Weiner!!!

Mush: THE WEINER BOAT!!!!

Crutchie: I took off my knee brace because I'm getting weird tan lines

Buttons: holy shit you're striped

Spot: I don't care about the setup of the fire truck on water day I just wanna know if we have the thing to make the fucking slip n slide

Denton: I never said you couldn't breathe, I said you can't breathe during these specific measures

Finch: THAT'S LIKE A WHOLE LINE

Denton: Let's go Break My Heart (one of the halftime songs) *pause* please don't, I'm fragile

Katherine: Okay everybody in the pool

Sarah: sexxy

Katherine: *lovingly, in her own way* shut up

Elmer: *to Katherine* What's the high F?

Katherine: I don't know the fingering for high F

Elmer: *to Specs* What's the high F??

Specs: *shrugs*

Elmer: *attempts it and plays the worst sound that's ever graced your ears*

Jojo: Just got put on the official Hamilton Roblox simulator and I'm obsessed *plays it during every single break*

Finch, Albert, and Race: *20 minute heated conversion about pizza*

Davey: He's jumpin! Man is pressed!

Denton: Yas queen! You guys ate that up! What other one could I throw in there? Slay? Yeah that slayed. You guys slayed that. Fax no printer

Crutchie: please stop.

Denton: alright, wrap it up and smash it off the back!

Everyone: *cheering*

Bonus!!

(Breaking the 4th wall)

Jack and Davey: *singing the world will know*

Jack: who is Hearsh?

Davey: I'm sorry what?

Jack: It says Pulitzer and Hearsh. who is Hearsh?

Davey: HearST?? as in William Randolph Hearst??

Jack: Okay, still who is that?

Davey: YOU WERE IN A NEWSIES CAST WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN WHO IS HEARST???

[mercysventingblog]

happy vent as im not actually crying rn?

MY CRUSH IS GOING TO THE SAME SCHOOL AS ME WOOOOOOOO

IM 13 N IM GONNA GO 2 HS NEXT YERA AND HE SAID HES PLANNING TO GO TO THE SAME HS!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAA

HE DIDNT SAY THAT TO ME DIRECTLY BUTTTTT!!! hey the allgirls school didnt look that great to me anyways!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA IM SO IN LOVE W MY CRUSH

SOSOSSOOSOSOSOOOOOO IN LOVE

LIKE HONESTLY

i love his stupid brown curls and his stupid bass voice and how tall he is and his stupid somewhat veiny hands and those arms and that cocky one armed push-up he does and AAAAAAAA im js so in love w him bro i cant even atp

AND WE SIT BESIDE EACHOTHER IN CLASS NOW HOW COOL IS THAT.

ALSO HES EMOTIONALLY MATURE AND WE HAVE THE SAME HUMOR????????

GOOD GLORYYYYYYY

AND AND I LOVE HIS BUILD AND HOW STRONG HE IS AND HIS STUPID JOKES AND AND AND HOW SMART HE IS AND THE WAY HIS HAIR RESTS ON HIS HEAD WHEN HE SLEEPS AND AAAAAAAAAA

AND HIS STUPID BASS VOICE BROOO!!! AND THE INSTRUMENT HE PLAYS (what, trombone?) AND AND I I JS LOVE HIM NGL!!!!

i soooo wanna marry him already but we're not even dating (yet hopefully)

AND HES SO SMUG AND COCKY AND SARCASTIC AND SASSY I LOVE HIM SOOO MUCH

but hes really good at heart and he WOULD in fact make a good husband

AND HES GOOD WITH KIDS TOO!!!!!!!

AND HES SOCIAL AND HES AN AMBIVERT AND I SOO WWNT TO CUDDLE WITH HIM AAAAAA 😭😭

PLS IM SO IN LOVE W HIM

[nuzifanficwriter]

Chapter 3 - Namie 3097

I wake up to a puppy jumping on me. After my nap yesterday, we decided to name him Biscuit. It’s time for school. I head to the living room where mom and dad lay sleeping on the couch. They must’ve fallen asleep watching TV. Biscuit wakes them up too. They kiss and I gag. I grab some gasoline and gears to eat for breakfast. Once I sit down, dad sits across from me. “Mornin’,” I say with a smile. He wags his tail, “Goodmorning!” Moms hand grabs his tail, stopping him from wagging it. I finish my gears and head out the door. I grab my book bag and I’m off.

School sucks as always. The only thing that makes it better are these two girls I met in detention. Carmella and Alia. Carmella is an alt girl with wavy black hair with red faded in the middle. She plays flute in marching band and bass in our band. Alia is a grunge ginger. She plays trumpet and keyboard. I play trombone and guitar. Our only issue with our band is we don’t have a drummer. We’ve been desperately trying to find one, but right now, we’re at my locker. As soon as I open it, an envelope addressed to me falls down. I read it. Carmella looks over my shoulder, “love letter?” “Yeah,” I say, “cringy as hell though.” Alia leans on the locker beside mine, “boy or girl?” “I just said it’s cringy as hell, what do you think?” “Well I don’t know?! We read your moms old diary from high school!” Carmella joins in, “all those things she said about your dad.” We all snort and start reciting our favorites. “His golden eyes, bright like the sun!” Carmella mocks. “His soft, fluffy hair,” Alia remarks. “He’s so hot, I mean cute! I mean- BITE ME!” I finish. “You sound just like her,” says Alia. “Really?” I blankly stare at her. I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, but everyone says I’m just like mom and even more like grandma Nori. Then we get back on task. “So who’s it from?” Carmella asks. “Guess,” I roll my eyes. “Alex,” we all say in unison. “He’s nothing if not persistent,” says Carmella. “He’s cute but I need to know his motive. Does he actually care? Is it cause our parents are friends? Is it cause his parents were football and cheer captains that became successful and mine are part of the WDF and they saved the world together? Though it was mainly my parents. I need to know,” I say. “Okay but the way you say that so casually,” says Carmella. Alia mocks, “yeah, my parents almost died saving the world, it’s no biggie, though!“ I smile. They have a point. The school day is over and we’re walking back to our residences when, wouldn’t ya know it, Alex was waiting for us. We roll our eyes and keep walking. We try to ignore him but he won’t stop talking, “Namie, did you get my letter?” I ignore him but Carmella jabs at him, “screw off, Alex. She doesn’t want you.” “Carmella,” I quietly hiss through my teeth. Alex frowns, “why are you answering, not her? I wanna hear it from her.” “Uhm, cause she’s ignoring you to prove her point.” “CARMELLA, SHUT UP!” I scream and it echoes through the halls, causing me to receive blank stares, “I’ll go on a date with you, Alex, but only once. Prove you’re worth my time and maybe there’ll be more. Name a time and place.” “O-oh uh….tonight! 7 o’clock, uh the same spot we first met?” He asks. Oh robo-god I forgot about that. “Sure whatever,” I say. We’re at my house, finally. I bid my farewells and enter my place. As soon as the door shuts, I throw my book bag against the wall. “Well, how was school today?” Mom asks sarcastically. I smile from insanity and cover my eyes with my hand, “well apparently I have a date with Alex tonight.” Dad pops his head up from behind the couch and shouts in unison with mom, “Thad’s kid/Lizzy’s kid?!” Her and dad glare at eachother. Finally, she speaks, “listen I know he’s Thad’s kid, but LIZZY?! Cmon, N.” “I thought you two were over petty disagreements!” Dad fights. “We are but-…..fine. It’s whatever. Knock him out, girl. From beauty or violence. You pick.” Probably both, I think. Mom walks away and dad turns to me, “he’s not a bad kid. Your mom is just…eh because his mom, Lizzy used to bully her through most of high school until our last year. They’re not friends but they’re chill because your mom and I are friends with Thad.” “Yeah well this kid’s been chasing me for weeks. I just want to make sure it’s real and not some stupid reason like…….like last time. Also, isn’t it a bit weird he’s named after my dead, unborn, big brother?” Dad sighs, “Namie Doorman, don’t talk like that! But….good on being cautious. I’d hate to see your heart broken again.” I smile, “thanks, dad.”

3 hours go by. it’s not 6 o’clock. I pick my best accessories and I take a look in the mirror. I’m gorgeous. Maybe not perfect, heterochromia (purple left, yellow right), white hair with natural purple tips, a scenecore kid. But I’m gorgeous. My mom even once said, “I think dumb things are frickin’ cool and I am free!” befor beating Aung Cyn possessed by the avosuge solver. If Alex tries to use me, I can take him all by myself, and mom and grandma Nori would so help. Maybe tonight won’t be so bad.

[drcloudtheclown]

Dude, I could've been in orchestra, I could've played the violin, I could've been a theatre kid, but n o, some boy had to yell at me in 3rd grade and that made my social anxiety spiral even worse

Playing trombone wasn't bad though, would've been better if I didn't have asthma

Man

[jpbjazz]

LÉGENDES DU JAZZ

BENNY GOLSON, SAXOPHONISTE ET COMPOSITEUR "Basically, I'd like to stay simple. I'd like to write melodically, and pretty harmonically... Although I'm not consciously looking for it, maybe I want something that's easy to remember.... Beauty can be simple, beauty can be simplicity."

- Benny Golson

Né le 25 janvier 1929 à Philadelphie, Benjamin ‘’Benny’’ Golson a fait ses études secondaires à Philadelphie. À l’âge de neuf ans, Golson avait commencé à apprendre le piano sous les pressions de sa mère qui voulait faire de lui un pianiste classique. Mais Golson ne l’entendait pas de cette oreille. Il expliquait: “That was aberrational in my neighborhood. All you heard there was the blues.”

Golson était âgé de quatorze ans lorsqu’il avait assisté à un concert de Lionel Hampton au Philadelphia’s Earl Theater. C’était après avoir entendu jouer Arnett Cobb qui faisait partie du groupe que Golson avait décidé de troquer le piano pour le saxophone ténor. Il avait commencé à composer à l’âge de dix-sept ans.

Pendant qu’il fréquentait le High School, Golson avait joué avec plusieurs musiciens prometteurs, dont John Coltrane, Red Garland, les frères Jimmy et Percy Heath, Philly Joe Jones et Red Rodney. LE MUSICIEN Après avoir obtenu son diplôme de l’Université Howard (où il avait écrit ses premiers arrangements), Golson avait brièvement conduit un camion de livraison avant de se joindre au groupe de rhythm n’ blues de Bull Moose Jackson en 1951. Tadd Dameron, que Golson considérerait plus tard comme sa plus importante influence comme compositeur, était le pianiste de Jackson à l’époque. Golson expliquait ainsi l’influence que Dameron avait eu sur lui: "Tadd's music really ignited the spark for me. After hearing things like 'Our Delight' and 'Lady Bird'... I wanted to do more than play tenor sax. I wanted to write."

Une autre influence majeure de Golson était le saxophoniste de swing Don Byas. Golson avait également été très influencé par Charlie Parker, qu’il avait entendu jouer pour la première fois lors d’un concert de l’Académie de Musique de Philadelphie en 1945. Golson précisait: “After we heard that concert that night, our lives changed. It was epochal, what was happening then.”

C’est après avoir entendu Parker que Golson avait commencé à développer son jeu très personnel combinant la chaleur et la fluidité des autres saxophonistes aux innovations harmonieuses de Bird.

Golson travaillait avec l’orchestre de Lionel Hampton à l’Apollo Theater de Harlem en 1956 lorsqu’il avait appris que le trompettiste Clifford Brown, avec qui il avait joué dans le groupe de Dameron de 1953 à 1958, était mort dans un accident d’automobile. Dans une entrevue accordée au magazine Downbeat en 1961, Golson avait décrit ainsi sa complicité avec Brown: "At the time of his death, Brownie was going in his direction more determinedly than anyone I've ever seen. Really, the last two years of his life, he got a hold of what he wanted to do. His imagination was infinite. He always had a bag of surprises."

Golson avait été tellement bouleversé par la mort de Brown qu’il avait composé une pièce en son honneur intitulée ‘’I Remember Clifford.’’ La pièce est devenue depuis un classique du jazz.

Après avoir quitté le groupe de Dameron, Golson s’était joint aux formations de Lionel Hampton, Johnny Hodges (avec qui il avait fait une tournée avec John Coltrane en 1954), Earl Bostic et Dizzy Gillespie, avec qui il avait participé à une tournée financée par le Département d’État.

Golson s’était ensuite joint aux Jazz Messengers d’Art Blakey avec qui il avait enregistré l’album ‘’Moanin’’’.

De 1959 à 1962, Golson avait co-dirigeé le groupe Jazztet avec le trompettiste Art Farmer. Le pianiste McCoy Tyner et le joueur de trombone Curtis Fuller faisaient aussi partie de la formation. En 1960, dans le cadre de sa participation au Jazztet, Golson avait remporté le New Star Award décerné par le magazine DownBeat. Le groupe a enregistré six albums avant de cesser ses activités en 1962. LE COMPOSITEUR

En 1963, à la demande de Quincy Jones et peut-être aussi pour mieux gagner sa vie, Golson s’était installé en Californie pour se concentrer sur la composition et le travail de studio. À cette époque, Golson avait composé de la musique pour des séries télé comme ‘’Mannix’’, ‘’Ironside’’, ‘’Room 222’’, ‘’M*A*S*H**’’, ‘’The Patridge Family’’ et ‘’Mission Impossible.’’ Il avait également écrit des thèmes publicitaires pour des compagnies comme Canada Dry, Carnation, Chevrolet, Chrysler, Clorox, Dodge, General Telephone, Gillette, MacDonald’s, Mattel, Nissan, Pepsi Cola, Texaco et Heinz.

Au milieu des années 1970, Golson avait effectué un retour sur scène. Golson, qui n’avait pas touché à son saxophone depuis dix ans, avait décrit ainsi la sensation qu’il avait ressenti lorsqu’il avait recommencé à jouer de son instrument: "It was like I'd never played the instrument; it felt like a piece of plumbing from the kitchen in my hand. My mind seemed like it wanted to go ahead--my fingers were those of a dead man; my lips were like ripe tomatoes. It was quite a physical struggle. I had no muscles in my lips or jaws... I sounded so bad, I was even embarrassed for my wife to hear me!" Golson avait aussi recommencé à enregistrer, collaborant notamment avec Freddie Hubbard, Woody Shaw et Pharoah Sanders.

Selon le critique Scott Yanow, à l’époque, le style de Golson au saxophone avait énormément évolué et s’apparentait davantage au style d’Archie Shepp et aux autres musiciens du free jazz qu’à son style original influencé par le swing de Don Byas. En 1982, après une tournée au Japon avec Art Farmer, Golson avait complètement réorganisé son Jazztet pour l’adapter aux nouvelles réalités du jazz.

La nouvelle édition du groupe avait été accueillie avec enthousiasme, tant par les amateurs que par la critique. Golson expliquait: "The reception for the revived Jazztet was so warm last year that it was almost like coming back home this second time. The enthusiasm of the audiences has been very encouraging for us--it gives us some incentive to go on in that same direction."

La reprise des activités du Jazztet n’avait cependant rien à voir avec la nostalgie. Golson poursuivait: "In twenty years, as you might expect... our musical approach is just a little different from the way it was then. Although there's some nostalgic things, like 'Whisper Not' ... I've written a lot of new tunes, and we've moved away somewhat from the hard, straight-up-and-down, strict harmonic kind of approach."

Véritable ambassadeur du jazz, Golson avait participé en 1987 à une tournée organisée par le Département d’État qui l’avait conduit du sud-est asiatique à la Nouvelle-Zélande, en passant par l’Indonésie, la Malaisie, la Birmanie et Singapour. Plus tard, l’agence Philip Morris l’avait envoyé à Bangkok, en Thailande, composer de la musique pour le Bangkok Symphony Orchestra.

À la fin des années 1990 et au début des années 2000, Golson avait fait une tournée avec le groupe toute étoile Roots (dont il était le directeur musical depuis 1995) ainsi qu’avec le trio de Keith Copeland. Il continuait aussi à composer parallèlement.

De 1998 à 2000, Golson avait participé à une tournée intitulée ‘’Jazz Messengers - A Legacy to Art Blakey’’, qui lui avait fait traverser tous les États-Unis, en plus de le conduire en Europe et au Japon. Comme son nom l’indique, la tournée avait pour but de rendre hommage à son ancien mentor Art Blakey, qui était décédé en octobre 1990. Lors des funérailles de Blakey, la pièce ‘’Blues March’’ de Golson avait d’ailleurs été interprétée pour lui rendre hommage.

En 2004, Golson avait fit une brève apparition dans le film ‘’The Terminal’’ avec Tom Hanks. Dans le film, on faisait allusion à la photo ‘’A Great Day in Harlem’’ sur laquelle Golson apparaissait aux côtés de plusieurs autres musiciens de jazz. Dans le film, le personnage principal, Viktor Navorski, interprété par Hanks, avait voyagé depuis l’Europe pour obtenir l’autographe de Golson. La composition de Golson, ‘’Something in B Flat’’, peut aussi être entendue sur une scène où Viktor est en train de peindre et de redécorer une partie le terminus de l’aéroport. Dans une autre scène, on voit Golson interpréter la pièce ‘’Killer Joe.’’

Benny Golson est mort à sa résidence de Manhattan le 21 septembre 2024. Il était âgé de 95 ans. La mort de Golson a été annoncée par son agent Jason Franklin. HONNEURS ET RÉCOMPENSES Benny Golson a reçu plusieurs prix et récompenses au cours de sa carrière.

Golson, qui a remporté un prix de la Fondation Guggenheim en 1994, a vu sa carrière être couronnée deux ans plus tard par la remise d’un NEA Jazz Masters Award de la National Endowment for the Arts. La même année, le programme de Jazz de l’Université Howard avait créé un prix en son honneur nommé le ‘’Benny Golson Jazz Master Award.’’

En octobre 2007, la Mid Atlantic Arts Foundation avait décerné à Golson le Mellon Living Legend Legacy Award, lors d’une cérémonie tenue au Lincoln Center. Le même mois, l’Université de Pittsburgh lui avait accordé l’International Academy of Jazz Outstanding Lifetime Achievement Award. Le prix lui avait été remis dans le cadre du 37e concert annuel de Jazz au Carnegie Music Hall. En novembre 2009, Goldson a été intronisé au sein de l’Academy of Jazz Hall of Fame.

Benny Golson est le seul artiste de jazz toujours vivant à avoir composé au moins huit standards de jazz. Véritable institution, Golson a enregistré plus de trente albums sous son nom en plus d’avoir participé à des centaines d’enregistrements d’autres artistes. Golson a aussi plus de 300 compositions à son crédit. Au cours de sa carrière de plus de soixante ans, Golson a également écrit un nombre incalculable d’arrangements pour des artistes comme Count Basie, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Sammy Davis Jr., Ella Fitzgerald, Dizzy Gillespie, Benny Goodman, Lionel Hampton, Quincy Jones, Peggy Lee, Carmen McRae, Anita O’Day, Oscar Peterson, Diana Ross, Mek Torme, George Shearing, Dusty Springfield et plusieurs autres.

Passionné d’éducation, Golson a aussi fait des lectures au Lincoln Center et aux universités de New York et de Chicago. Loin de se limiter à la musique, les conférences de Golson abordaient aussi des questions comme le racisme et les relations raciales. Dans une entrevue accordée au Irish Times, Golson avait tenu à préciser que ses préoccupations n’étaient pas tant personnelles qu’historiques. Il avait déclaré: “[Racism] doesn’t disturb me and it didn’t disturb me when I was coming up as a kid. Racism? I wanted to play the music. I turned a deaf ear to all that stuff.”

Golson est également lauréat de doctorats honorifiques de la Berklee School of Music et du William Paterson College de Wayne, au New Jersey. Grand pédagogue, il a aussi dirigé des ateliers dans plusieurs universités à travers le monde.

Outre ‘’I Remember Clifford’’, plusieurs des compositions de Golson sont devenues des standards du jazz: ‘’Stablemates’’, ‘’Killer Joe’’, ‘‘Whisper Not’’, ‘’Along Came Betty’’, ‘’Are You Real ?’’, ‘’Blues March’’, etc.

En 1958, au cours d’une entrevue accordée au magazine DownBeat, Golson avait ainsi décrit sa philosophie de compositeur: "I feel that the best contribution any writer can make is to create compositions that are impressive, meaningful, and lasting. I think all serious writers consciously or unconsciously strive for this." Dans une autre entevue accordée deux ans plus tard, Golson avait précisé: "Basically, I'd like to stay simple. I'd like to write melodically, and pretty harmonically... Although I'm not consciously looking for it, maybe I want something that's easy to remember.... Beauty can be simple, beauty can be simplicity."

Lorsqu’on demandait à Golson laquelle de ses activités il trouvait la plus satisfaisante entre la composition et sa carrière de musicien, il répondait simplement: “It’s like having two wives. I’m a musical bigamist. I can’t decide, so I just go on with both of them.” ©-2023-2024, tous droits réservés, Les Productions de l’Imaginaire historique SOURCES:

‘’Benny Golson.’’ Wikipedia, 2022. ‘’Benny Golson.’’ National Endowment of the Arts, 2023. ‘’Benny Golson.’’ Jazzstandards.com, 2023. ‘’Benny Golson.’’ Encyclopedia.com, 13 août 2018.

[angeltism]

since you + your beloveds would be 4 people, which prsk group would you guys be? excluding nightcord because i feel like that would be an easy answer

OHHH THIS IS GONNA TAKE SOME THINKING,,

me personally I have no musical talent in terms of instruments so I'd suck at being in a band unless maaaaybe I was a dedicated singer?? and I have no idea if any of them can play instrumence™ either so I'm just gonna cross out L/N for that.

um. me and mary I think would die if we had to do idol choreography and work-outs and stuff. I have faith in Rook and pretty sure Ivette wouldn't Totally Die either but that's only half of us. so. no more jump :(

vbs COULD maybe be?? a thing??? maybe??? the anxiety of performing in front of others and competitively would be Very Scary however performing in front of others applies pretty generally so I'd kinda just have to Get Over That at some point I think. or else I'd be in like. no group. heart. so. maybe???

wondershow could aaaalso maaaaaybe work but performing on a stage and having to dance around and stuff, again, would probably kill me (and mary too most likely) but it at least seems less severe than being a literal idol or something, y'know? it could be fun. this just made me associate all of us to a wondershow character actually that's funny.

in terms of what's least likely to Kill us, either physically with exercise overload or having to learn how to play an entire instrument (I'll never look at a trombone the same after my mandatory music class), vbs seems the most fitting, in second place would be wxs probably

but I mean, yeah, the obvious choice is niigo, but this was very very interesting and funny to think about so thanks for this :D