#vintage guitar and speaker

[mypastnow]

[stone-cold-groove]

Voice of the underground.

[guitarbomb]

Revv Dynamis D40 with Two notes Audio Torpedo

Revv Amplification, the renowned Canadian brand known for its innovative high-gain amps, has introduced the Dynamis D40. This high-end tube head seamlessly combines modern digital technology with the classic design of 20th-century guitar amps, offering the best of both worlds. Integration of Torpedo Cab Sim Technology One of the standout features of the D40 is its collaboration with Two notes…

[lifelaughloveharrystyles]

Ross Lynch: givemewhatuwant

*on tour with the driver era 2024*

“Y/N do you know where we are at?” Garrison calls from the back of the bus with all the boys.

The Driver Era has been on tour for about a month now, traveling all over the east coast showcasing their phenomenal songs that they made from scratch. I had the amazing opportunity to come on the tour as one of the equipment managers. This has been my biggest dream in my career, working at “The Doors Rock Shop”. It’s a well known instrument company in Atlanta Georgia where people would go to get a guitar and a crystal at the same time. I got this amazing job with touring The Driver Era with my cousin Poppy who is with us on tour as one of the tour photographers.

“Y/N!” Ryland shouts from the back. I look outside to see we are about to arrive to the venue in Asheville North Carolina. “we are about to pull up to the venue guys!” I said looking to the back of the bus and I see Ross in the hall with just pajamas pants on. “Word! i’m ready to stretch my legs and get out and move.” Ross said stretching his arms looking like he just woke up from a nap.

Ross and I have gotten really close on this tour. i’m normally not on their bus, i travel in a large van behind the bus with the crew. We haven’t stopped talking to each other whether it’s in person while im helping carry his beautiful gibson to him when he goes in for his solos or text. We make these jokes everytime I have to give his guitar to him in a show and I always make a bet with him about how many girls will scream “take your shirt off!”. Secretly I was jealous I couldn’t be those beautiful girls making him smile and shake his hips like that and pleading to take his shirt off for me. Having him as a friend is the best, I just know he could never like me that way. I’m his equipment manager, I lift speakers and drums for a living and he’s a fucking rockstar sex god. I mean look at his recent ex. like how can I compare to Jaz Sinclair. I have to be just a friend to protect myself from that energy.

Everyone ends up scattering across the venue to start their projects for the day. The show starts at 8 so I scramble around to the strings van to transfer the instruments to their spots on the stage so the boys can start soundchecking and tuning their guitars to the songs.

“Y/N why is it you’re always the one carrying the most stuff in the building when Greg is suppose to do that because of your knee.” Riker says from the green room where I walked in with a coffee for myself and him. “Riker i’m telling you Greg is so fucking slow I can’t bear watching him take 45 minutes to set up a guitar stand. I gotta get the shit done so I can actually enjoy myself for the day.” I express to him and i’m frazzled pinging from one corner of the stage to the other figuring out all the wires and amps so they can start their sound check.

“Y/N take a deep breath or a certain someone is going to come in here and see this and raise hell.” Riker laughed as he secretly points in the direction of Ross and Rocky’s green room. I roll my eyes and wave him off not believing a word he said.

Riker thinks he’s slick with trying to hook me up with Ross ever since we started the tour. i’ve seen the small hints of asking ross to come to me when he can’t find the setlist or where his extra picks are. Riker is basically our tour mom, he is making everyone smoothies and making sure everyone is hydrated before every show. Besides Ross, me and Riker have been attached to the hip.

“Shut up Riker before I grab a pair of scissors and cut your bass strings” I jokingly threaten him with a huge smile on my face.

“Oh God Riker what did you do to piss Y/N off again?” Ross said coming out of the side stage with a vintage baseball cap that says “i’m a local celebrity” with a white tee and baggy light washed denim pants. he slings his arm over my shoulder making us sway to the random song playing on the speakers. I look up to see him already looking down at me with that infamous smile he wears. “Nice Hat pretty boy.” i laughed and flicked the bill of the hat. “So which songs are we playing tonight? any newbies?” I smile back at him really hoping he’ll play one of my favorite songs at the show tonight. “Yes Y/N we are playing givemewhatuwant and Natural if that’s what you’re asking.” he chuckles and pulls away from me to pick up his guitar to start sound checking. I squeal and jump off the stage and start jogging to the doors to get the rest of the equipment “YES ROSS YOURE THE BEST” I scream at him and blow him a friendly kiss as I run out the door.

*Ross’ POV*

Y/N is the most precious and loving human I have ever met. she just brightens the room when she walks in. Whether it’s her bubbly personality or just her energy she radiates, it’s one of the reasons why I love having her close by. She makes me feel like life is worth living again. Heartbreak after heartbreak, I felt like love isn’t an option for me anymore. I have thousands of people falling at my feet but it never fills the void of feeling unloved. Hookups and one night stands can only do so much to the point even sex isn’t appealing to you anymore. Ever since Y/N walked into my life, it’s has taken a complete 180. I feel lighter. happier. I wake up excited for the day knowing I get to see and talk to the most beautiful woman I have ever met. She doesn’t compare to any girl I have ever been with or even seen. Befriending her was my first hit in the game and i’m ready for the home run. I want her to be mine. I need her to be my girl. I feel like I can’t live life without her by my side. she completes me in a way I have never felt before. I’m worried i’ll scare her away if I confess what i’ve been feeling inside. I just need to rip the bandaid and just go for it, be a man and express this to this wonderful girl.

*10 minutes before showtime*

*Y/N POV*

“what’s our bet tonight Ross?” I ask him walking up to the band. I just finished helping set up the stage for The Driver Era after Valé’s performance. She did amazing as she does every night. Tonight however the energy feels a bit off. Ross looks like he’s in his head about something and I just don’t know what. Everything went smoothly today and the crowd already has such a good vibe for the night, there’s nothing else to worry about. “Ross? You good?” I asked while rubbing his arm while he looks off in the distance.

“Yeah i’m good, just in my head a bit. Nothing to worry about, probably stage fright.” he has a fake smile plastered on his face to try and not worry me. I know him better than anyone that he is in his head about something and it’s definitely not stage fright.

“Do you need to talk before you go on? you are not good. you can try and fake smile at me but you know it’s not going to work. What’s going on in that head of yours?” I step forward to see his full face instead of the side and look up in those beautiful hazel brown eyes he adorns on his face. he sighs loudly and closes his eyes before opening them he says. “Y/N there’s been a lot of shit going on in my life and ever since I met you, it seems like everything disappeared when you walked in the room. You make me so happy and giddy to the point I get antsy when I don’t see you first thing in the morning. You light up my life and I know we only have known each other for a month but I feel it. My God I hope you feel it too so I don’t feel like the biggest idiot before this sold out show. I like you Y/N, I don’t want to wake up without you by my side. Please tell me you feel the same.” he pleads and grabs

my face in his hands and put his forehead to mine.

“Just shut up and kiss me Ross. I’ve been waiting way too long for you to say those words. I just need your lips on mine before you-“ he slams his lips on mine before I could sentence my sentence. I wrap my arms around his neck melting in his arms loving every second of this moment.

“Ross let’s go! you’ll have plenty of time to make out with Y/N after the show, come on!” Rocky shouts from the side stage making us break away from our heavy kiss. I smile and push him towards his brother. “Lucky for you i’m going to be in the pit with Poppy helping her take photos. I promise to get the best angles, I might sneak a couple just for my entertainment.” I smirk and he laughs and kisses my cheek and runs on stage right on his cue.

The boys are rocking out and came out full throttle. I’ve been helping poppy this show because one of the extra photographers called out and couldn’t make it. I can already feel the energy in this knowing it’s gonna be a great night. “ Y/N why has Ross been staring and smirking at you all night? Did he finally have the balls to do it?” She smirks at me side glancing to the stage. I look up and sure enough he’s staring at me with hooded eyes with his hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. He squats down to my level and curls his finger for me to come closer. I take a step towards him and he whispers “you are making it incredibly hard for me to stop this show and take you backstage to have my girl strip that skirt off so I can fuck that beautiful pussy.” he kisses my earlobe and pulls away before I could even react. my jaw drops and I step back and look at poppy and she’s busting out laughing at my reactions and hugs me and squeals in excitement. She always said from day one that Ross will end up falling over me. I brushed it out because of stupidity and insecurities. Now i’m like ‘fuck she’s right…. again’.

“That man is already planning the wedding in his brain and he hasn’t even gotten in your pants yet. I saw the kiss when I was setting up. “ She says while snapping pictures of the band while they play “Natural”. I get excited and dance and sing along. I decide to tease ross a bit, i shake my hips to the beat and drag my palms up my stomach making my shirt ride up a bit. He notices and bites his lip and tilts his hat down and looks at me with sultry eyes. I wink at him and flick him off. he smirks and proceeds to perform the rest of the song.

The show finally ended and the boys are celebrating in the green room with a couple of drinks. I finished my job for the night when I start searching for Ross to actually start my night. I feel hands wrap around my middle and I instantly melt when I smell fresh body wash and sandalwood. “Let’s go to the bus, I promise to keep my hands to myself” Ross mumbles kissing my neck with his hands roaming my hips pulling me closer to his warmth. I chuckle and turn my head to see his face and tease his lips with mine before I dart towards the direction of the bus. I hear his laughs behind me when I get up to the door to the bus.

he meets me inside and starts teasing my neck again guiding me to the back of the bus. He closes the sliding door and locks it in place. I arch my neck towards him in a way to let him know I want his lips on me. He starts sucking on my neck behind my ear. he kisses all the way to my lips and he slams his lips on mine. I moan and run my fingers through his hair and tug at the ends. He groans in my mouth and starts unzipping my corset like top. I gasp when I feel the cold air on my bare back. The shirts comes loose from my body and falls at our feet. “Beautiful” He whispers to himself when he see my breasts in full exposure. He starts peppering kisses all over my breasts and he cups his lips around my nipple and start sucking to drive me wild. I moan a sound that has never escaped from me before and I tug his face up to mine “Just fuck me already Ross. I need you so bad. Feel how wet I am” I whimper grabbing his hand and pressing it to my core. he rubs his fingertips against the sensitive nub and I moan loudly biting my lip. He shrugs his pants off and throws his shirt somewhere while I undress myself as fast as I can. “I wanted this to be slow and make this moment last as long as possible but I can’t bear anything anymore. I need to be inside you baby.” Ross said as he slips on a condom with a groan. He pushes the tip towards my entrance and I close my eyes waiting for the first push. “Look at me Y/N. I need to see your face” he pleads. I open my eyes the same time he enters me and I gasp at the size of him. He slowly thrusts in and out letting me get used to his size.

“Faster Baby. Fuck you feel so good” I scream as his pace picks up. he grabs my leg and throws it over his left shoulder slamming his hips into the back of my thighs. He presses a hand against my stomach and I moan feeling him deeper inside of me. “Fuck baby I can feel it. My god your pussy is perfect. You’re so tight, you were made for me” He groans fucking me harder making me slam a hand on the window beside me. “Ross i’m so close. please let me cum. fuck baby” I moan in his ear and drag my nails down his back. “Yes baby. Let go for me. Cum all over my cock. Make a mess of me. “ he slams his hips into mine as we both hit our climax at the same time. he thrusts slowly while we come from our highs. I breathe heavily and rest my head on the armrest of couch. Ross slowly lays his head on my breast letting some of his weight fall on me. I run my hand through his hair and just smile wanting this moment to never end.

“Whatcha thinking about beautiful?” he asked slowly pulling out making me wince. “Just realizing how did I get this lucky? I don’t deserve you.” my eyes start tearing up looking at his eyes and studying all of his features. “You don’t deserve me? You got it all wrong baby. You are the most beautiful human I have ever laid my eyes on. We are meant to be here in this moment for a reason and I know down the road we will look back at this time and just laugh and smile about all these memories we have made together. I want to make memories with you forever Y/N. l- I love you so fucking much I can’t hold it in anymore.” He rambles sitting up on the L shaped couch and pulling me to his chest. I breathe in his scent and close my eyes. “Ross, I love you so much it makes it hard for me to breathe. I’ll love you to the day I die.” I look up at him and he slams his lips on mine putting a hand over my heart to feel the thumps of my rapid heartbeat. Our lips move and he slips his tongue in and our tongues dance along together lazily.

We finally had the energy to get up after 30 minutes of lazy kisses and just appreciating the moment we just shared. Everyone comes back to the bus after the celebratory shots.

“So where did both of you guys run off too earlier?” Garrison asked slipping on a hoodie and a crochet bucket hat I made for him in Wisconsin. “I don’t kiss and tell but it was definitely fun for sure.” Ross winks and pulls me to sit on his lap.

“They fucked in the back of the bus. there’s a hand print on the window to prove it.” Ryland said smirking into his tequila soda. I roll my eyes and tap the bottom of his cup to make it spill all over his neck and shirt. “Y/N what the fuck dude!” he shouts snatching napkins from Riker. I laugh so hard I snort and then that makes everyone in the bus have a laughing fit. I lean my head back on ross’ shoulder and he kisses the top of my head whispering “I love you” in my ear. my eyes start drooping and I fall asleep on the love of my life and already can’t wait to wake up to experience this life with him.

[visionsoffutile]

Another encounter chapter 4:

It was another dull Saturday at the music store. "Dynasty" by KISS blared softly over the speakers, the distant wail of guitars and thumping bassline barely covering the quiet hum of fluorescent lights above you. The faint scent of aged vinyl hung in the air, mixed with the sharp, metallic tang of the record cleaner you were using. A typical slow day. You'd been here for hours, wiping down old turntables, reorganizing shelves, waiting for something, anything, to break the monotony.

You heard the familiar jingle of the bell over the door. Another customer. You straightened up behind the counter, reaching for the next record player, expecting to greet someone distracted by the vintage posters on the walls. But instead, when you looked up, you were met with piercing blue eyes.

Regina George.

She stood just inside the doorway, like a painting in motion. Her blonde hair cascaded in loose waves over her shoulders, and she wore a perfectly fitted casual jacket over a tank top that looked effortlessly chic. There was an air of indifference around her, but even that was carefully constructed. The way she scanned the room, the subtle lift of her chin as if she were surveying her domain—everything about her screamed *calculated*.

Your pulse quickened, but you forced yourself to keep it cool, masking any reaction. It had only been a week since school had started, but somehow Regina was already playing games. Gretchen Wieners had tried, in her overeager way, to strike up a conversation with you—an obviously staged effort to get you into Regina’s orbit. You turned Gretchen down, politely but firmly, deciding you’d rather deal with Regina herself than through her minions.

Now here she was. It seemed like you had her attention, for better or worse.

She strolled through the store, taking her time, running her fingers lightly over the edges of albums as she moved through the aisles. Her gaze briefly flickered to the racks of vinyls, then to the CD section, though you got the feeling she wasn’t actually interested in either. She was here for something else.

After a long moment, she walked toward the counter, her heels barely making a sound on the polished wood floor. Her eyes landed on the record player you were wiping down.

“Do you have anything... better than this?” she asked, her voice smooth but edged with the faintest hint of condescension, gesturing vaguely toward the album sleeve beside you.

The question was deliberately vague, but the way she said it felt like a challenge. You looked at her, holding her gaze, and wiped your hands on the cloth.

“That depends on what you’re into,” you replied, leaning against the counter with casual indifference. “But I’m guessing you’re not here for music recommendations.”

Regina’s lips quirked into a half-smile, almost imperceptible, but it was there. You got the sense she didn’t hear no often—or ever. “You rejected Gretchen,” she said, cutting straight to the point. Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying you as if you were an equation she was trying to solve. “Why?”

There was no pretense in her tone. No fake sweetness. Just a directness that caught you slightly off guard.

You shrugged. “I don’t fall for the minion routine. I’d rather talk to you.”

For a split second, you saw something flash in her eyes—something like surprise, or maybe amusement. It was brief, but it was there. Regina stepped a little closer, her body language shifting ever so slightly. The confidence she exuded wasn’t something she put on; it was something that came naturally to her, as if she knew she could command any room she walked into.

“You really think you’re different, don’t you?” she said, voice lowering, almost as if she were sharing a secret. “Everyone else is dying for my attention. And yet, here you are, playing hard to get.”

The air between you felt thick, almost charged. You could see the way she was watching you now—like she was expecting you to break, to start fawning over her like everyone else. But you weren’t going to give her that satisfaction.

“I’m not playing anything,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Maybe I just don’t care about your games.”

Regina tilted her head slightly, her gaze unwavering. There was a flicker of something behind her eyes—maybe curiosity, maybe frustration. Whatever it was, it was clear she wasn’t used to this. You weren’t falling into her carefully constructed traps, and she didn’t know what to make of it.

She stepped even closer, the space between you now barely a foot. The subtle scent of her perfume—something floral and expensive—filled the air, mixing with the musky scent of the store. Her voice dropped, intimate but sharp. “Everyone plays games. The difference is, I know how to win.”

There was a moment where it felt like the whole world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Her eyes bore into yours, and for the first time, you saw past the facade. Beneath the cool, untouchable exterior, there was something deeper—something vulnerable. But just as quickly as you noticed it, she masked it again, the walls going back up.

“So,” you said after a beat, not breaking eye contact. “Why are *you* here, Regina? Really?”

The smirk on her lips faltered for the briefest moment. You had called her bluff. For a second, you thought she might just leave, walk out of the store without answering. But then, she leaned in a little closer, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe I want to know why *you* aren’t like everyone else. Why you’re not falling at my feet like they do.” There was something almost... vulnerable in the way she said it, though she tried to hide it behind her usual confidence.

You held her gaze, refusing to look away. “Maybe I’m just waiting for a reason to.”

Her blue eyes flickered with something unreadable. For a moment, it felt like you were on the edge of something, like she might say something real, something honest. But then, just as quickly, she straightened up, the mask slipping back into place.

“Well,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder, her tone turning back to its usual casual arrogance. “I guess we’ll see if you’re worth my time.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked toward the door, her footsteps echoing softly in the empty store. The bell chimed as she pushed open the door, and with that, she was gone, leaving a strange heaviness in the air behind her.

You exhaled slowly, not realizing you’d been holding your breath. For a moment, you stood there in the quiet, trying to process what had just happened. Regina George wasn’t someone who got rattled easily. But today, for just a moment, it felt like you’d seen something more—something real.

And you had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time she walked through that door.

[noblehouseofgay]

Better Than Revenge

Band au (skittles)

Jegulus

Part 1 of Noble's Band Aus

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The lights on the stage flashed green, creating a bright snake that slithered across a curtain. Electricity buzzed in the air, the crackling of a speaker turning on.

"Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did." The curtains dropped as Regulus Black's voice came through the speakers.

He stood at the microphone, holding the stand with both hands, smirking. His band controlled the energy in the room, with Evan Rosier on drums, Barty Crouch Jr on guitar, Pandora Rosier on keyboard, and Dorcas Meadowes on bass.

"Time for a little revenge." He took the mic from its stands and crouched, looking into the audience, searching faces, looking for the hazel eyes he knew would be here.

"The story starts when it was hot and it was summer and, I had it all I him right where I wanted him." He stood up, leaning against Barty's back.

"She came along, got him alone, and let's hear the applause. She took him faster than you can say sabotage."

Regulus walked across the stage, eyeing the audience, sneering. "I never saw it coming nor would I have suspected it. I underestimated just who I was dealing with. She had to know the pain was beating on me like a drum." He whipped his head, looking at the other side of the stadium. "She underestimated just who she was stealing from."

Regulus ran to the front of the stage, sliding onto his knees. "She's not a Saint and she's not what you think she's an actress. Woah!" He leaned back, singing to the sky.

He slowly came back up with a devilish smirk, sliding his hand down his torso. "She's better known for the things that she does on the mattress, woah!"

He pointed into the audience, as if the girl herself was here. "Soon she's gonna find stealing other people's toys on the playground won't make you many friends. She should keep in mind, she should keep in mind there is nothing I do better than revenge."

Those eyes. He found him. The hazel eyes. Regulus titled his head, feigning innocence. "She looks at life like it's a party and she's on the list. She looks at me like I'm a trend and she's so over it." He rolled his eyes, standing up.

"I think her ever present smile is a little troubling and," Regulus winked, "she thinks I'm psycho cuz I like to rhyme her name with things."

He runs over to sing with Dorcas, who was smiling at him already, knowing what he was up to. "But sophistication isn't what you wear or who you know, or pushing people down to get you where you wanna go." He had a big fake frown on his face, Dorcas trying to sing and not laugh. "They didn't teach you that in prep school so it's up to me, but no amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity." Regulus put the mic to Cas's mouth.

"Think about what you did."

The crowd erupted.

Regulus threw his head back, laughing. He loved when the crowd got like this. He skipped around stage, bouncing from friend to friend.

After the chorus again, Regulus stepped to the microphone stand once more. He sighed, "I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at honey. You might have him but, haven't you heard?" He found hazel eyes in the crowd again. "I'm just another thing for you to roll your eyes at honey, you might have him but I'll always get the last word. Woah!" He titled his head again, belting out.

Regulus laughed. "Sing it!" He pointed his microphone to the audience, letting them take the last chorus.

He felt on top of the world. These people were on his side. They could feel his pain with him. All while those hazel eyes had to sit and listen to thousands of people chanting about it.

"Do you still feel like you know what you're doing? Cuz I don't think you do! I don't think you do, I don't think you do! Let's hear the applause!"

The crowd roared again.

"Come show me how much better you are! So much better yeah? So you deserve some applause! Cuz you're so much better!"

The band went silent.

"She took him faster than you can say sabotage."

The lights went black.

[mariacrow]

Could I request a headcannon for TFP characters on their favorite genre of music? Maybe also them listening to said music with a female reader? However you wish to spin it 😊

~TFP characters~

🎵 their favorite music genre 🎵

2nd person

female reader

WARNING: TOO MUCH SHMOOVING 🕺🎶

Dividers belong to @friedchickenburguer 🖤

❃ AUTOBOTS ❃

🎼 Optimus Prime

He doesn’t express his passion for music, he keeps that in private

He loves old music, precisely from 40s and 50s

He likes the sounds of gentle trumpets, trombones, violins etc.

He likes it slow and classy, something relaxing

Jazz might be his thing too

When he’s driving alone he loves keeping the radio on a super vintage radio station

When he’s with you he’d be kinda shy to play it, assuming you don’t like it because you’re born in such modern time

When (if) you’d assure him you like it, you’d warm his spark as he’d finally get to share and enjoy the music he likes with you

He’d tell you why he likes each song and which part is his favorite

🎼 Ratchet

He’d claim he hates music, how it’s merely a distraction

Nonetheless, when you or any of the kids would play something in the base, at times he wouldn’t immediately tell you to turn it off or keep it down because he’d like it

His preference isn’t clear because you could catch him slightly moving to the beat to song from the 80s over 2000s to the newest

He wouldn’t even notice he’s slightly shmooving to the beat

Only when you’d giggle and tell him he’s got some moves, he’d get flustered and immediately stop, denying it

After some time, he’d admit he likes some songs you’d play and would allow you to use the radio when he’s driving you

🎼 Bumblebee

Definitely a 70s and 80s boi

He loves shmooving like crazy

Play ABBA or something and he’s all over the place and no one can stop him

He’s very stubborn when it comes to his music taste and will openly tell you when he thinks your music taste is trash or if it’s his favorite

While in the car, he wouldn’t let you touch the radio- heck he wouldn’t let you get NEAR IT if you aren’t planning to play a song he likes

He’s the head DJ in the car AND in the base

When Ratchet tells him to turn it off or lower the volume, he’d just turn it up to annoy him and dance all over the place

🎼 Bulkhead

ROCK N ROLL BABYYYYY

Miko and him are replacing Bumblebee when he’s absent

2nd head DJs in the base

He’s all about that electric guitar and drums

He likes some of heavy metal too

If you like this kind of music, you’d be a part of their band

Ratchet’s biggest nightmare is that goddamn guitar of Miko’s I’m telling you

Of course Wheeljack is a part of the band as well

You and Miko in the front seat shmooving to some heavy guitar and screaming the lyrics while he’s flooring it through the city is another one of his fav bonding moments

🎼 Arcee

Definitely likes something calm she can sing to

For example Lana Del Rey but also something classy like Amy Whinehouse

Definitely your favorite feminist, prefers female artists

She actually sings beautifully but is kinda shy to show her talent

Perhaps she’d show it to you if she’d you’d encourage her enough

If you like to sing this is your chance to sing with her and have girly concert Fridays!

She’d actually love concerts and would gladly drive you to any you wish to see

Would ONLY share her music taste with you

🎼 Wheeljack

Not only rock n roll, aggressive type of music in general

Perhaps something modern too, like phonk for example

He likes something that makes the lights flash in the club and that can make his helm bop in a quick manner

Max volume all the time, especially in his ship when he’s alone or when driving

Would appreciate your company if you don’t mind the speakers making you bounce in your seat

He’s a great opportunity for a good o’ music vent

If you feel pent up he’s a great partner to just let it out with the help of music with him

He also likes some jazz, especially during intimacy

🎼 Smokescreen

His music taste can be very basic

He’s quite flexible and actually rarely dislikes any song you show him

He lets you fidget with the radio when he’s driving you

At times he can be greedy and start a stupid funny argument about who’s gonna choose a radio station or play the next song

Sometimes he can lean more towards rap and trap, especially 2000s

He likes freaky lyrics he can spontaneously flirt with like “Freek-a-leek” or “Baby Got Back”

He loves to dance and thinks he has good moved while in fact he look too funny trying to impress everyone, especially you

🎼 Ultra Magnus

Music? What’s that?

Well perhaps he would secretly like some songs you’d play in the base

And he’d secretly explore the radio stations while driving alone

He likes classy music with meaningful lyrics

Perhaps Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra would be his top choice

Absolutely despises modern music, doesn’t understand it a all

For him, a song means a catchy tune with lyrics that he can devote to someone, that remind him of someone or himself or just have a deep meaning

VERY BY THE BOOK!

When you’d catch him enjoying some music he’d deny it in any possible way

His music taste is a top secret!!!

Divider belongs to @attxnt 🖤

✦ DECEPTICONS ✦

🎼 Megatron

At first he’d find anything that humans create primitive, as well as music

But I mean how can you not like our music, some stuff is really catchy!

When the Nemesis would accidentally catch a radio signal he’d immediately order Soundwave to turn it off

But when he hears a nice electric guitar and some bass he’d like it

Not that he’d admit though, never

He isn’t a fan of… joy lmao so he wouldn’t listen to any music on his own

When you’d play some music in the lab, he’d scold you and tell you to keep it down

But when he doesn’t yell at you to turn it off immediately that’s when you know he likes it

🎼 Starscream

Definitely a huge Lady Gaga fan

When he’s alone he blasts it and sings, dances, imagines he’s on a concert, the main star

His ego would take over when he’d imagine a thick crowd shouting “All hail superstar Stascream!” or something

He’d reject any other artist, Lady Gaga is his one and only

He’d even order you to play Lady Gaga in the lab

If you wouldn’t do it, he’d remind you who he is, your commander and that you shall oblige

He’d tell you how your music taste is primitive and how only Lady Gaga is the real queen

🎼 Knockout

Also a Lady Gaga fan but not as big as Starscream

He’s more flexible when it comes to music but he definitely prefers classy female singers

An artist needs to be aesthetically pleasing to him, especially their voice

He likes when a woman’s voice is dominating in the song more than the instruments

Lyrics needs to be stuck in his head so he’d officially say he likes the song

He’d let you show him some of your favorite songs and he’d openly tell you if it’s trash or not

Would definitely argue with you over who’s gonna play music in the lab

You’d argue to the point Shockwave would have to take your source of music and put it away

🎼 Breakdown

RAAAAAAHHH!!!

Sex, violence, murder, violence, gambling, greed, lechery- (that Tom Hardy meme)

Definitely likes his song loud and explicit

He also likes hardstyle, it REALLY gets him going before battle, aggressive phonk too

Anything that can express his inner aggression is his thing

But don’t let this fool you

When he’s alone and emotional he cries to sad songs

Lana Del Rey really strikes his heart especially because he’s in love with her and her voice

If you ever catch him crying to Lana, he’ll deny it

With you he’d prefer blasting some hardstyle or rap in the car

If you don’t like it, he’s gonna do it anyway because he’d play it so loudly that he probably won’t even hear you complain

🎼 Dreadwing

Again not someone who listens to music on his own

Nevertheless, he likes romantic tunes he can gently sway with you to

Deep down he’s a romantic soul which you’d realize when in private with him

And he’s very intelligent too which would intrigue him to search for some high class music by Earth’s most popular compositors (Beethoven for example)

A gentle piano and violin as well as violoncello are his fav

He’d be impressed by our instruments, he can get curious hence he would like to ask you and discuss with you about them

He doesn’t understand modern music and really doesn’t like it

Though he might like some unique musicians of the 21st century

🎼 Soundwave

He’s an open book really, he knows everything about human music

He’s also a type of mech to avoid lyrics

He prefers only instruments, from old acoustic to new electric

Unlike Dreadwing, he likes his music a bit faster with more energy that can make the line on his visor dance

He rarely listens to music though, he’s too busy

He’d get curious to know your taste of music so he might stalk sound waves coming from your device

He’d surprise you when he’d play some music for you

Of course he’d prefer all that to stay a secret between you two

🎼 Shockwave

Music is a distraction for him

No music allowed in the lab when he’s there

Though because he’s fond of you he might let you play some but quietly

He doesn’t really have a preference, he’s too busy to even pay attention to what you’re playing

Nonetheless SOME tunes might catch his attention and make his antennas wriggle

It would probably be some older music with no drums or bass or anything, just pure, gentle tones and voices

He would keep it to himself but maybe, just maybe, he’d occasionally tell you he approves your choice

[cocoa-rococo]

Koopaling Headcanons: Roy

Larry | Morton | Wendy | Iggy | Roy | Lemmy | Ludwig

The cool guy, the main muscle, the roughest-n'-toughest member of Bowser's army! Get a load a' them shades.

Left-handed.

Owns at least fifty pairs of those sunglasses of his. They are also pretty much indestructible, thanks to a certain brother inventor.

A root beer fan! Root beer floats are one of his favorite desserts and guilty pleasures.

His "tough guy" persona is mostly for show, but he really does love his siblings. This does not exempt them from noogies and teasing.

Regularly works out, and is happy to have a gym partner in Lemmy. Granted, Lemmy leans more towards acrobatics than athletics, but he likes sharing the space with him.

Likes watching professional wrestling with Morton in his free time. Also likes to wrestle with Morton. And his other siblings. And anyone willing. And anyone unwillingly, really.

Dyslexic. He'd probably like reading a little more if it was easier for him, but his dislike of "nerdy books" helps with his whole tough guy image. He's a better audio + tactile learner, anyway. Ludwig’s been trying to get him into audiobooks with varying rates of success.

He wanted to own a monster truck SO BAD as a kid. Getting to participate for the first time in the kart tournaments was the best day of his life, and one of the most terrifying for everyone else.

Has a pretty balanced diet due to working out a lot, probably compared to most of his siblings, but he'll never turn down a nice rack of ribs, especially BBQ. Slow cooked and so tender it falls off the bone? Roy would kill a man.

No one, other than his siblings, knows his eye color. The story as to why he never removes his glasses changes whenever someone asks.

Knows how to sew, though he doesn't tell people often due to his "cool" persona. He learned it because he wanted to have patches on his jackets, and after pestering Wendy to do it enough times, she taught him.

While Wendy's definitely the more beach-y of the two, he also likes tanning in the sun and surfing on the waves. He prefers hotter temperatures to cold, and while he hates the winter and snow, he loves snowball fighting (especially dumping piles of it on top of his siblings).

Has a high tolerance for spicy things. He chews fire flower seeds when he's stressed, and has a particular fondness for good chili.

Knows his way around a car and its engine, and keeps a collection of vintage magazines of older muscle cars.

He generally doesn't deal with flowers, but he's got a soft spot for hydrangeas and lavender. Reminds him of childhood.

He loves chip snacks, all flavors of them. Ludwig used this to his advantage as a kid and turned him onto apple and banana chips. He keeps a stash hidden for cooldown munchies after a workout.

If he ever learned an instrument, it'd probably be either the bass guitar or a drum set. Larry is trying to lure him into practicing more so they can start a band.

A fan of classic rock music, with some hints of metal. He partially gets this from Bowser; so much so, in fact, that when paired with his knowledge of car maintenance and learning about speakers, ended up spawning Roy's Smooth Sounds.

While he's all for bucking the rules, especially if they're stupid in his eyes or it helps him somehow, he's actually one of the few siblings who thrives on routine. Makes it easier to put his time in 'blocks' and work around them if need be.

He keeps a calendar and in his room for remembering important events, both for the castle and things his siblings have going on. Wendy keeps trying to gift him journals to use, he keeps trying to remember to use them, and ends up forgetting regardless.

Likes watching car showcases and auctions in his free time. Gives him inspiration for customizing his own vehicles, since he and Iggy are banned from collaborating on cars since The Incident™.

While he can do magic with his wand just fine, it's not his preferred fighting method; why waste time studying spells when you can just punch the thing in half the time? He was, however, the second to learn how to transform his wand into a weapon.

Not a big candy person, but his favorites are malt balls and anything with peanut butter. Will also never turn down a nice slice of chocolate cake, especially if Wendy makes it.

Favorite fruits are cantaloupe and mangoes, especially if it's hot out. Avocado is pretty good, too, but he prefers that in dips and spreads, especially if paired with bacon.

What makes him especially dangerous isn't just his strength and his Bill Blaster, but his stamina; his determination to win, along with his ability to keep going in spite of all obstacles or enemies in his path, makes him kinda terrifying to face.

He's a bit of a night owl, which works out well for night school. It also means he gets to affectionately bully any of his siblings who think not sleeping is a good idea.

His favorite school subjects vary. Literature he doesn't do well in because of how subjective and interpretive it is, but he's good at math because of the consistent formulas. He's not too bad at geography, either, and history is interesting in small doses. Shop classes he does very well in, too.

Most likely out of all his siblings to get a tattoo. Probably something across the knuckles or on his upper arm.

He's one of the stricter siblings when it comes to his army, and runs a fairly tight ship, but he's also the kind of higher-up who will take the select few who do well out to a steakhouse to celebrate.

Cannot, for the life of him, stand menial tasks and busywork like sweeping, sorting papers, organizing, etc. He feels like he’ll crawl out of his skin from boredom. It's why he bribes his siblings to do it whenever he can.

He's a fairly good cook, and can follow a recipe with ease, he just doesn't like how long it takes. He leaves that to Larry and Morton.

Knows how to work a grill like nobody's business. You invite him to a cookout and he’ll make you the best burger or hot dog you could ever want.

His favorite sport is wrestling, as well as all forms of boxing. He’ll respect the rules in the ring if there’s something important at stake, but with his siblings? He fights dirty and does not care.

[reasonsmandy]

Lady Vinyl

Graham Dunne x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — Graham x shy reader! Just two softies being cute together

✧.* summary — Your shyness was always a hindrance, but not when you were behind the LA radio speakers. Graham was curious about you from the first time he saw you at the bar where they played, and since then he has needed to get closer to you.

✧.* warnings — none

✧.* word count — 4.0k

✧.* 🪕 — Graham's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — In case you'd like to be tagged in other djats stories of mine, the link to my tag list is at the end of the story. Good reading :)

The bar is dark and smoky, lit only by a few flickering candles and the glow of neon signs in the windows. You can smell the heady mix of alcohol and tobacco in the air, along with a hint of something else - something more illicit.

The room is small and cramped, with mismatched tables and chairs scattered haphazardly around the space. The walls are lined with vintage posters and photographs, most of them faded and peeling with age. The bar itself is a sturdy wooden affair, its surface scarred and scratched from years of use.

Behind the bar, your dad is mixing drinks with practiced ease. He looks up as you walk in, giving you a nod of recognition before turning back to his work. You take a seat at one of the tables, the one that is furthest away and almost hidden in a poorly lit corner, feeling a little out of place among the regulars who are already settling in for the night.

When listening to the sound of guitar strings and drum sticks against the drums, you glance up at the stage. The lighting is dim, with just a few spotlights illuminating the musicians. Your dad had asked you to stop by the bar that night, and even though you're busy with your radio show stuff, you decided to grant his request.

"Hey peaches." Your dad greets you, handing you an orange juice. "How are Lady Vinyl's projects, huh?"

"Shiii! Dad, I told you a million times already." You scold him, causing him to raise his hands in surrender. "Don't mention her, not here where someone can listen."

"My bad my bad." He chuckles as he shakes his head, he sits down beside you. "Rod said they're good, maybe a band will please my little girl for once, huh."

You smile, taking a sip of your drink before responding. "We'll see about that, dad. But I did find some really interesting bands while I was out doing research for the show. I think this next one will be a hit with our listeners."

Your dad nods, looking over at the stage where the band is setting up. "I trust your gut, kiddo." He gets up and places a kiss on the top of her head. "Wait for me here, alright? As soon as I close, I'll drop you off at home."

As the band takes the stage, the room is charged with anticipation. The first notes of their song 'Look me in the eye' echo through the bar, and the crowd begins to sway along with the rhythm.

You pull out your notebook and start scribbling down notes, trying to capture the essence of the band's performance. But your mind keeps wandering to your own radio show. You're proud of what you do - you've built up a loyal following by sharing your extensive knowledge of rock music from the 60s and 70s. And the anonymity that comes with using a pseudonym allows you to feel more free and confident on air.

You had an idea for the next show and you were very excited about this one, you had visited some local bars to listen to the up and coming bands there and talk about them on the show. That was another good side of being behind the pseudonym, nobody would find out that you were the broadcaster of the show and would treat you differently for it, you would see the raw presentations in their pure apex. So when your dad said he had booked a band on Rod's recommendation you decided to stop by to see.

As the song progresses, you notice the crowd's reactions. People are smiling and nodding along with the music, some even singing along to the chorus. You're impressed by the band's energy and presence on stage, as they seem to command the attention of everyone in the room. But one person in particular catches your attention, the guitarist had amazing energy, he felt every chord he played in a unique way... It was so captivating, you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

You find yourself transfixed by the sight of him, drawn in by his passion and talent. You've always loved music, but you've never seen anyone play like this before. For a moment, you forget about everything else - the noise of the crowd, the smell of smoke, the weight of your own shyness. All you can think about is the music, and the man creating it.

The hours passed and they kept the energy at the same level, it was impressive how each new song conveyed more of their passion for what they were doing. You wrote down every detail that attracted you to the performance, and without realizing it you had focused too much on the guitarist, you laugh when you notice your slip and write more things about the drummer for example.

As the night wears on and the band's set comes to an end, Graham's eyes keep darting towards you in the back of the room. He can see that you've been taking notes throughout the performance, and he's curious about what you're been writing. And there was something in your manner that he was itching to find out more, he remembered seeing you a few times at the bar, but no more than minutes so he never had the opportunity to speak to you. But today he would do it differently.

As the bar begins to clear out, Graham starts packing up his equipment, shooting occasional glances in the direction of you, at first you think you're getting crazy and started to see things, but when he smiles at you, you immediately take your gaze to your notebook, pretending it wasn't you. He can feel his curiosity getting the better of him, and as he finishes packing up his guitar, he turns to Warren.

"Warren man, can you cover me?" He says winding up the guitar wire.

Rojas turns to him with a cigarette between his lips. "Of course man, but don't you take too long because I want to talk to that chick over there." He says blowing smoke from his cigarette.

"No problem, I won't be long." The younger Dunne walks off the stage, heading towards you.

You feel him approaching and anxiety takes over your body, you try to calm down but nervousness won't let you. You drink the rest of the juice in your glass, thinking about how to act normally, your father watches you from a distance and laughs at the situation, shaking his head.

"Hey." His voice sends a jolt of energy through your body, you knew there was no escape now and you look at him.

"Hi." Your voice barely comes out, and you close the notebook looking at him.

"Is it okay for me to sit here with you?" His eyes looked much lighter up close, and you had a hard time taking yours away from his.

"Sure." You said a few things, and he notices your nervousness, finding it kinda cute.

"I couldn't help but notice that you wrote down a lot of things in there." He points to the notebook in front of you. "Any ideas on how I can improve my performance?"

"I don't... Oh, sorry if I distracted you." His voice came out in an almost whisper tone and he couldn't help but smile, you were interesting.

"The only thing you did was give me one more reason to play better." He says capturing your attention more. "Being in the audience... You know? Like, you inspired me to play better..."

"I understood the pick up line." You laugh at his nervousness feeling yours slowly slip away.

…

KLOS 95.5

Lady Vinyl (you): My dear listeners, I come to bring you wonderful news! The Rise of Rock at Sunset Strip is being born and enchanting the ears of anyone who takes the time to visit the bars at night. I must say that I feared this big musical change, but evaluating and listening more carefully to the bands that appear around, I feel that something good is coming. Can I be wrong? Yes, but y'all know that rarely happens [chuckles]. And speaking of good bands, I have to give a shoutout to 'The Six' who played a killer show at The Stache last night. If you missed it, you missed out on something special. But don't worry, I'm here to fill you in on all the juicy details. The energy was electrifying, and the crowd was absolutely loving it. They started the set with 'Look Me in the Eye', a song that I just can't get enough of. The guitar riffs were on point, the drums were pounding, and the bass was just groovy enough to get everyone moving.

"You hear that man!?" Warren exclaims while jumping of excitement. "Do you understand how big this is?"

"She said the bass made everyone move! ." Eddie says feeling a little cocky. "I knew I was wonderful that day."

Graham could only hear his friends as background noise, his focus centered on the voice coming out of the radio speakers, while Camila congratulated them for having won the attention of the broadcaster he could only focus on how familiar that voice sounded, he strained to try to identify where he had heard that timbre before and after a lot of effort, he can see the image of you writing things down during the show came in his mind. He smiles broadly, he needed to see you again.

Lady Vinyl (you): And let's not forget about the vocals, which were nothing short of amazing. There's no doubt in my mind that these guys are the new rock sensation of Sunset Strip, and if you trust my gut and know that I only bring you good things, believe me when I say: You will still hear a lot from them. So, keep your ears open and your turntables spinning, because the sound of The Six is here to stay. This is Lady Vinyl signing off for tonight my lovelies, next week I'll be here at the same time but until then... make me proud and keep these vinyls spinning. Bye bye!

"Hey Graham, did you hear that?" Karen catches the attention of the younger Dunne who comes out of his trance. "The new rock sensation of Sunset Strip!" She quotes you.

"Yeah yeah." He says without paying her attention, he could only think about you and how badly he wanted to see you again.

...

He felt beads of sweat trickle down his face as his fingers danced across the guitar strings in automatic fashion, the most natural muscle memory he had acting up while his attention was focused on finding your pair of eyes among the people on that dimly lit bar. But there was no trace of you, which made him a little disappointed as he looked forward to seeing you again.

When people had already left and the band was eating after introducing the youngest Dunne approaches the bar with a sad face, the bartender notices the man's downcast face and decides to talk to him.

"What has you so down son?" Tayrone's voice was thick, and echoed in Graham's ears.

"I've been looking for someone for days and nothing." A sigh escapes the guitarist's lips. "I think I'll just give up."

"Look, I don't usually keep tabs on all the regulars but maybe I can help." Your father was wiping some glasses while listening intently to the man in front of him.

"There was this girl here last week, she was sitting at that table in the back." Graham points to the far corner of the bar, making Tayrone arch an eyebrow. "She was writing things down in a black notebook..."

"I see," Tayrone says, nodding his head. "So, you're interested in her, huh?"

Graham nods, feeling his cheeks heat up. "Yeah, she's beautiful and she seems really interesting, you know. I've been looking for her everywhere, but I can't seem to find her."

Tayrone chuckles knowingly. "Well, I might be able to help you out with that."

"You can?" Graham's eyes widen in surprise.

Tayrone leans in conspiratorially. "She's actually my daughter."

Graham's jaw drops. "Your daughter?!"

Tayrone nods, grinning. "Yes, she's quite something, isn't she?"

Graham nods, still in shock. "Yeah, I believe so." His voice gradually disappeared, the shyness for having spoken about you like that to your father taking over him.

Tayrone chuckles again. "Well, no need to be shy now son." For a moment they are both quiet until an idea pops into Tayrone's mind. "Can you do me a favor kid? Tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment late at night and I need to leave early, can you close the bar for me?."

Graham nods, still processing the information. "Of course old Tay, count on me."

...

Later that night you went to your dad's apartment for dinner, and you found yourself seated across from him at a rustic wooden table, surrounded by posters of rock legends that adorned the walls. The warm glow of candlelight illuminated the space, casting flickering shadows across the room.

You sipped at your wine, enjoying the rich, fruity flavor as your father regaled you with stories of his youth and the wild rock concerts he had attended. As the conversation flowed, Tayrone eventually brought up Graham.

"You know, you have a secret admirer at the bar," he said casually, a smirk growing on his face.

You felt your cheeks flush at the mention of the handsome guitarist. "What do you mean dad?"

"You know, that guitarist in the band I hired? The slightly awkward little boy seems to be quite taken with you," Tayrone replied, smiling knowingly.

You laugh at his comparison. "Dad, it's not his fault that you're almost ten feet tall." You take another sip of wine. "And another thing, I think you must have misunderstood... I just don't know if Graham and I have anything in common."

"And how do you know that little one?" Tayrone asks firmly. "You have plenty in common. You both love music, for one thing. And who knows what else you might discover if you give him a chance?"

"Not a chance dad." You take a piece of cheese from the tray in front of you and offer it to him, he declines and you eat it. "He probably just wanted to clear some doubts with me..."

"Doubts about what, dear?" He crosses his arms smiling pretending to believe her excuses. "If I didn't know you so well I would even believe that excuse of yours Y/N."

"What excuse?" You shrug, pretending not to understand what he was talking about. He just plucks his eyebrow, "I don't feel safe with myself for this dad."

"Oh don't sell yourself short, my dear. You're an amazing young woman, and any man would be lucky to have you." Your father opens another beer for you, feeling frustrated that you don't get his point. "Listen to your father my daughter, the boy is nice... Give him a chance."

You nodded thoughtfully, feeling a flicker of hope in your chest. Maybe your father was right. Maybe it was worth giving Graham a chance.

As the meal drew to a close, Tayrone brought up a favor he needed from you.

"Tomorrow, I need you to close up the bar for me," he said. "I have some errands to run and won't be back in time. Think you can handle it?"

You nodded, not suspecting a thing. Little did you know, your father had a plan in mind – a plan that involved you and Graham finally meeting and talking, and a plan that would change the course of your days.

...

You had picked up the keys from your dad a few hours ago, he said he was leaving the pub at 8pm and you were already on your way to pack up and close early, Sunset as always was busy music invaded your ears with everything as you walked to your family's establishment. When you approach the door you can see Graham sitting on the stage playing with the guitar strings, there wasn't supposed to be anyone there... Your father said you were just supposed to close the bar and leave. It doesn't take long for you to put the pieces together and understand old Tayrone's plan to get the two of you together, you take a deep breath trying to count the anxiety that builds in you and open the door.

Graham hears the bell above the door and looks up at it, smiling to see you there. He gets up from the stage and greets you warmly. "Hey there, I didn't know you'd come."

You try to sound casual. "Hey, Graham. How's it going?"

"It's going great now that you're here," he replies with a smile.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but what are you doing here?" You ask, trying to understand the situation.

"Your dad asked me to close the place." Graham says running a hand through his hair.

"Of course he did." You shake your head in disbelief at what he had done. "Funnily enough, he asked me to do that too."

"Oh I see." Graham couldn't help but smile, of all the things he thought old Tay could do, this wasn't one of them. "Good, since I'm here. Can I help you pack everything?"

"That would be nice, thank you." You say objectively, trying to avoid his gaze.

You can feel your cheeks turning pink and you look away, trying to control your shyness. Graham notices and asks, "Are you okay? You seem a little nervous."

You nod, still avoiding eye contact. "Yeah, I'm just...not used to being alone with someone like this."

Graham steps closer to you, his voice gentle. "Well, there's nothing to be nervous about. We're only going to spend a few hours together, we'll talk, but if you want, I can stay quiet." His joke makes you laugh, and when he hears the sound of your laughter he feels butterflies in his stomach.

You take a deep breath, feeling the tension start to dissipate. "Okay, that sounds nice."

You two start to clean everything around, little by little you start to feel more comfortable by his side, feeling a little more at ease. You talk about your love for music, your dreams and aspirations, and your favorite bands. Graham listens intently, nodding along and adding his own thoughts to the conversation.

After a while, he suddenly asks, "Are you Lady Vinyl?"

Your heart skips a beat. How did he know? You try to play it cool. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, I've seen you at the bar a few times when you come to see the shows, she always talks about the same shows you are on, your voice matches hers" he explains. "And your taste in music is very similar to hers. I just had a feeling."

You hesitate for a moment before admitting the truth. "And what if I was her?"

Graham arches his eyebrows with a smile on his lips. "Well, you would be much more badass than I already think you are."

You blush, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and pride. He seems to notice your sudden embarrassment as he stops cleaning a nearby table and turns to face you. "Guess that confirms my theory huh."

You smile, rolling your eyes. "Okay, you got me. I am Lady Vinyl"

Graham explains. "I was blown away by your talent. I mean, I've been in this business for a while, and I can honestly say that you're one of the best DJs I've ever seen."

You're touched by Graham's praise, but at the same time, you feel a little ashamed. You've always struggled with imposter syndrome, and hearing someone as talented as Graham compliment your work makes you feel like you don't deserve it. "Thanks, but I don't know if I'm really that good," you say modestly.

"Don't be so humble," Graham says, looking at you seriously. "You have a gift, and you should be proud of it. I think you could go really far in this business if you just believe in yourself."

You look at Graham, feeling a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. It's not often that someone sees you for who you really are and believes in you without reservation. "Thank you," you say quietly. "That means a lot to me."

The hours of the night are slowly passing, without noticing you and Graham were already very loose next to each other. Your shyness had already gone out of your body, around him you felt free to be yourself, it was a similar feeling to the one you had on the radio, it was just you and him and he saw you as a unic person and not just another out there. The bar was already set up, but you didn't want to say goodbye to each other, so after telling Graham about your desire to learn guitar, he decides to teach you what he knows.

As you strummed the guitar strings, you could feel Graham's gaze on you, watching your every move. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks as you made a mistake, quickly putting the guitar down and shaking your head in frustration. "I can't do this," you said, feeling defeated.

Graham chuckled. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Learning to play takes time and practice."

You looked at him skeptically. "But I don't have any musical talent. My thing is just talking about music, not making it."

"Come on, don't be like that," he said, reaching over to adjust your hand on the guitar neck. "Let 's try again."

You took a deep breath and began to strum again, this time with more confidence. Graham smiled encouragingly as you played, nodding his head in time with the rhythm. You felt yourself relax as the music filled the room, and soon you were lost in the moment, forgetting all of your worries.

As the night wore on, Graham patiently taught you different chords and techniques, always encouraging you to keep going even when you stumbled. And with each passing moment, you felt yourself falling more and more in love with him.

Finally, as the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, Graham leaned in close to you, his breath warm on your neck. "You're a natural," he whispered, his fingers still on yours as you played. "Don't ever give up on this."

You turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his. There was a moment of silence between you, and then he leaned in and kissed you tenderly. As you kissed him back, you felt all of your doubts and fears melt away, replaced by a sense of pure joy and happiness.

And as the two of you pulled away, you knew that you had found something truly special – something that would last a lifetime.

…

KLOS 95.5

Lady Vinyl (you): Hey there, music lovers. It's your favorite music lover, Lady Vinyl, coming to you live from our cozy little studio. Today, I wanted to talk about a band that's been making waves in the music scene lately - The Six. Now, I know I've talked about them before, but I just can't get enough of their unique sound and killer guitar riffs.

But you know what they say, music isn't just about the notes you play, it's about the emotions you evoke. And speaking of emotions, have you ever had a moment that just takes your breath away? Maybe a sudden burst of inspiration, a breathtaking view, or even a surprise kiss that leaves you feeling dizzy and wanting more.

Well, that's the power of music, my friends. It has the ability to transport us to another world, to make us feel alive and passionate. And that's why I love what I do. And of course, don't forget to buy 'SevenEighNine'

So keep on rocking, and who knows? Maybe you'll have your own moment of musical magic soon enough. This is Lady Vinyl, signing off."

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

tag list: @lantsovcolors

[luckyroll3]

Crimson Lights: Chapter 18

Masterlist

The moment the door creaks open, a concoction of tobacco, whiskey, and beer notes swirl around us, as if the bar itself exhaled its welcome. Changbin's hand is light on my back, guiding me through the threshold into the dimly lit world where neon signs fought valiantly against the shadows. The clinking of glasses play rhythm to the bluesy guitar strumming over the speakers, wrapping the whole place in an ambiance that felt timeless.

"Looks like we found the heart of the city's nightlife," I quip, my eyes adjusting to the sparsely populated room. The patrons, each lost in their own nocturnal rituals, pay us no mind.

Changbin chuckles, the sound rich and grounding. "If by 'heart' you mean 'liver,' then yeah, spot on."

Our steps thud softly against the worn wooden floor, leading us to a deserted booth tucked away in a corner that promised a hint of privacy. As we slide into the cracked leather booth, an eager waitress pops up like a figure from a jack-in-the-box, the faint scent of her floral perfume cutting through the heavier bar odors.

"Two whiskeys, neat," Changbin orders before I could even peruse the menu. He raises an eyebrow at me, silently asking for approval.

"Make it a double for me," I say, flashing a grin that earned a low, appreciative laugh from him.

“Make them both doubles,” he says to the waitress who nods and walks away. "Rough day saving animals?" he asks, his voice teasing but with an undercurrent of genuine concern that tugs pleasantly at something deep inside me.

"More like a rough day being peed on by a Great Dane," I shoot back. We both erupt into laughter, the sound bouncing off the walls. The noise of the bar fades into a comfortable backdrop to our conversation, the rest of the world narrowing down to the space between us.

"Only you would find humor in that," Changbin observes, his eyes and nose crinkling in amusement. They were dark and beautiful, always so thoughtful when they landed on me.

"Hey, you've got to laugh at the little things," I respond, lifting my shoulders in a half-shrug. "Especially when the big things..." My voice trails off, but he nods, understanding the unspoken reference to the heavier things in our lives.

"Exactly," he agrees, just as our drinks arrive. We clink our glasses gently, the clear sound cutting through the low hum of music and murmured conversations.

"Here's to the little things, then," he toasts.

"Cheers to that," I echo, and we drink deeply, the amber liquid burning a path of shared comfort down our throats.

Changbin's eyes stare into my own for a few moments, then flicker to a corner of the bar. "Ever played pinball?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Can't say that I have," I reply, intrigued by the sudden shift in energy.

"Come on." He stands, a grin tugging at his lips as he gestures for me to follow. We weave through the scattered tables, heading toward a secluded hallway. The bar has hidden depths, it seems, including a vintage pinball machine that stood like a relic from a bygone era, its bright lights an odd contrast to the dim ambiance.

"Get ready for the crash course," Changbin says, sliding a few coins into the slot with the practiced ease of someone who has done this many times before. The machine whirs to life, and we are greeted by a cacophony of digital sounds.

"Okay, Dr. Miller," he teases, "the goal is simple. Keep the ball in play as long as possible. Use these flippers—" he taps the buttons on each side, "—and your reflexes to rack up points."

"Sounds easy enough," I say, accepting the challenge in his smirk and leaning against the side of the machine.

"Here, watch" He steps up to the machine and grasps the flippers' buttons. With a pull and release of the spring-loaded plunger, the metal ball shoots up the chute and into the chaos of bumpers and ramps. Changbin leans into the machine, his focus absolute. I watch, fascinated by the concentration that creases his brow, the way his large muscles flex subtly under the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt as he works the flippers. There is something unexpectedly captivating about this side of him—the playful strategist mastering the dance of light and steel.

"Your turn," he says, after the ball finally meets its inevitable end.

We switch places and I pull the plunger. I am clumsy at first, my reactions a half-second too slow, but Changbin coaches me with patient instructions and an encouraging chuckle whenever the ball slips past my defenses.

"Almost! You've got to anticipate its move," he advises, his voice close to my ear.

"Like this?" I ask, my timing improving as I catch the ball with a flipper, holding it for a split second before letting it fly up the board again.

"Exactly like that," he praises, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

We take turns, the competitive streak between us growing. With each flip and score, the clatter of the metal ball becomes a rhythmic backdrop to our laughter. The game is exhilarating, a surge of adrenaline with every near miss and triumphant hit.

The pinball machine's glow paints our faces in flashes of color, and I find myself caught up not just in the game, but in the sheer vivacity of the moment—with Changbin, in this noisy bar that somehow felt like our own private world.

“You’re a quick learner,” he says as he watches me play from the side of the pinball machine.

"I had a good teacher," I shoot back with a grin, my eyes never leaving the game.

The din of the dive bar fades to a mere murmur as Changbin moves behind me to look over my shoulder. His broad chest brushes lightly against my back, sending a current of electricity through me, but I am determined not to lose focus.

As each second ticks by, the buttons click and clack under my fingers, a rapid-fire symphony that matches the quickening pulse of the game. The tension thickens like the heady smoke swirling above us, a tangible force as I lean in closer to the machine and feel him press even closer against me in response, followed by his lips on my earlobe.

"Ah!" My exclamation slices through the air as the ball slips past my guard, darting straight down the middle. "You're distracting me on purpose!"

"Maybe," Changbin admits with a chuckle, his proximity an intoxicating distraction. "But only because you're too good at this." He presses a kiss onto my neck.

I turn my head to the side and our gazes lock, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. There is an understanding, a recognition of something more than just the game heating up. But neither of us speak it aloud; it lingers there, unvoiced yet palpable.

Then, a loud buzz sounds from the pinball machine, announcing the start of the next round.

“Here, let me help,” Changbin says as he sandwiches me between his body and the machine, placing his hands over mine on the buttons. He launches the ball and we play simultaneously. It’s hard for me to concentrate as I feel his muscular frame against me and his breath against my cheek. But Changbin is focused, skillfully hitting the ball and causing the machine to light up and buzz over and over again, until the scoreboard begins to flash, accompanied by a triumphant beeping.

"Looks like we win," he declares, his tone low, but rich with satisfaction and a hint of something else—something that makes my stomach flutter. He kisses my neck again, then moves to my cheek. His finger raises to my chin and turns my face towards his before he places a soft kiss on my lips.

"Come here," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. It isn't a command—it’s an invitation, one I can't resist even if I wanted to. I turn around to face him and lean back against the pinball machine.

His hand reaches out, fingers brushing against my cheek with a tenderness that belies his rugged exterior. And then, as if pulled by some unseen force, Changbin leans in, closing the distance between us. His lips meet mine in another kiss that starts gentle but grows with a hunger that mirrors my own.

The world around us—the clinking glasses, the muffled jukebox tunes—fade into nothingness. There is only Changbin and the electric current that sparked to life with the touch of his mouth on mine. His taste is intoxicating, a mix of the whiskey we've been drinking and something uniquely him.

My hands move of their own accord, sliding up his muscular arms, feeling the strength coiled beneath his skin. I grip his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel more of him, pressing our bodies together.

His hands explore my back, strong and sure, igniting flames along every inch of my skin he touches. My own hands wander over his chest, tracing the outline of his muscles through his shirt. Every point of contact feels like a live wire, sparking a fierce heat that threatens to consume us both.

We are lost in each other, in the consuming blaze of our kiss, the way our bodies seem to move together. In this moment, nothing else matters, just the undeniable connection that has been simmering between us, now bursting into an all-consuming inferno.

Changbin's lips are insistent, coaxing responses from deep within me that I hadn't known were there. His scent wraps around me—leather and something spicy—a contrast to the fresh, sweet and floral scent that Chris usually wears.

A sudden vibration cuts through the haze of sensation. The shrill ringtone slices between us, an unwelcome intruder in our private world. Reluctantly, Changbin pulls back, his breath ragged, eyes still locked on mine as he fishes the offending device from his pocket.

"Sorry, Kay," he mutters, a crease forming between his brows. "I have to take this."

I nod, trying to steady my own breathing as he turns slightly away, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Lauren?" Changbin's voice is tense, the single word carrying a weight that instantly settles in the pit of my stomach.

I can't help but eavesdrop, the name echoing ominously in my ears. My fingers clench around the edge of the pinball machine, the metal cool and solid under my grip. I watch him, his expression guarded now, the playful spark extinguished by concern.

"Yeah, I'm still at the bar," he continues, his tone clipped. "What's wrong? You sound upset."

Lauren's voice is too faint to make out, a distant tinny sound that sparks a surge of guilt within me. I bite my lip, a thousand thoughts racing through my mind. Lauren and I had recently become friends. And while Chris was cool with this exploration, Lauren was still unaware. This wasn’t fair to her.

"Okay, okay, calm down. I'll be there soon," he reassures her, or perhaps himself.

As he ends the call, Changbin's gaze finds mine again, searching. Lauren needed him, and I wasn’t going to stand in his way. My laughter from earlier feels like a betrayal, a stolen moment that wasn't really mine to claim.

"Kay, I..." Changbin starts, his voice trailing off.

"Don't," I say, forcing a smile. "Go to her. She obviously needs you."

“But Kay,” he says again, his brow furrowed. This time, I cut him off.

"Changbin," I begin, my voice stronger than I feet, "About Lauren. It's not just about her, but us—what we're doing. I don’t feel right about it." The hum of the neon signs and distant clinking of glasses fill the brief silence as I search for the right words. "You know I love you and value our friendship, the connection we've been building. You’re one of the two most important people to me. I don't want to be the reason for any pain or complication in your life."

He leans his hip against the pinball machine, arms crossed and facing me. A flicker of disappointment shadows his features before he masks it with a forced neutrality. For a moment, he says nothing, and the weight of my confession hangs between us like the smoky haze overhead.

"Kay," Changbin finally speaks, his voice carrying a hint of frustration laced with resignation. "Lauren and I, it is complicated. I didn't expect to have feelings for her and for you, but—"

"Neither did I," I cut in, holding his gaze, needing him to understand. "But here we are, and I can't ignore the fact that she's in the picture. And I won't be the one to hurt someone else, especially when they consider me a friend."

With those words, I step back, putting physical distance between us. I continue, “You really need to sort this out with her. You have a few options here: you decide to be with her and see what your relationship can be, you tell her about this,” I use my index finger to point between our two bodies, “and see if she’s okay with it, or you end it. Either way, I can’t move forward until….” I don’t finish my sentence.

His jaw clenches, and for a second, I think he might argue, defend what has sparked between us, but then something shifts in his eyes, a softening that hadn't been there a moment ago. He straightens up and takes a step closer to me, his presence commanding even in this quiet understanding.

"Listen," he says, his tone gentler now, "I get it. I do. I'll talk to Lauren, figure things out, where she stands in my life." A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, a glimmer of the Changbin I know, not the one who’s been a bit mopey since his confession, breaking through the tension. "And you're right, we're friends. You’ve become one of my best friends and I'm not going to let whatever this is mess that up."

Relief washes over me, cooling the flush of emotion that had heated my cheeks. "Thank you," I whisper, grateful for his ability to see past the immediate rush of desire to the bigger picture. I place a kiss on his cheek.

"Besides," he adds, "who else is going to watch bad TV with me?" He gives me a playful wink that eases the remaining tightness in my chest.

A laugh bubbles up from within me, genuine and free, as I playfully roll my eyes. "Well, when you put it that way, how could I possibly stay away?"

“I can drop you off on the way to Lauren’s, if you want.”

“No,” I say as we walk back to the main part of the bar. “You go. It sounded like Lauren really needed you. I’ll get myself home.”

“You sure?” he asks, his brow furrowed.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” I pull him in for a hug.

He kisses me gently on the lips. “Okay.” He tightens his arms around me for another hug, then whispers, “I just needed one last kiss. It won’t happen again until I figure shit out.”

I nod and watch as he walks out the door.

I make my way to an empty seat at the bar and order another whiskey before pulling out my phone to message Chris.

Kay: Hey you.

Chris: Hey beautiful. Date over already? Are you back home?

Kay: Yes and No. Date’s over. Changbin’s on his way to Lauren’s. I’m still at the bar. What are you up to?

Chris: Spreadsheets. Need some company? 😉

Kay: I need a ride, but I’ll take company too. 😛

Chris: You’re a brat.

Kay: You love me anyway.

Chris: I do. Where are you?

Kay: O’Malley’s

Chris: Give me 10 minutes.

I set my phone down and pick up my glass to take a sip. Then I start people watching.

As I scan the dimly lit bar, my eyes settle on a group of rowdy patrons at the pool table, their laughter and banter mixing with the soft hum of the jukebox in the corner. The bartender wipes down the counter with a white rag, his movements precise and practiced, while a couple in the far corner share hushed whispers over their cocktails. The atmosphere is both lively and intimate.

Chris arrives sooner than expected, his arms sliding around my shoulders as he greets me with a kiss to my cheek followed by a simple, “Hi.”

“Hi.” I swivel the bar stool to face him and throw my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Our lips meet and we share a passionate kiss, our tongues pushing past each other.

He pulls away with a laugh as he jumps onto the stool next to me. “How many of these have you had?” he asks, picking up my glass and bringing it to his lips.

“Only two so far,” I say, playfully taking the glass back from him for a sip. “But they’ve been doubles.” I wink at him.

His dimpled grin spreads across his face. He motions for the bartender and orders a drink of his own.

He takes my hand in his and leans in close. “Want to tell me what happened with Binnie?”

I look into his eyes as I gather my thoughts to respond. “We were having a great time, that led to a very hot make out session…until Lauren called and she needed him.”

Chan listens intently as he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.

“I told Binnie to go. But then we also decided to pause all of this until he makes a decision about Lauren.”

I watch his face for a reaction, but he only says, “Hmmm.” His eyes don’t leave mine, but there’s a subtle shift.

“Why do you seem relieved?” I ask with a grin.

“I’m not relieved,” he insists, seemingly caught off guard by my question. He runs his hand through his hair, the corners of his mouth turning up into a small smile.

I cock my head to the side as I watch him. “I saw it.” I shove his shoulder playfully with my free hand. “There was definitely some relief there.”

“Okay, okay. I guess I am relieved.” He takes a long sip from his glass, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow.

I squeeze his hand. “Why? I thought you were okay with all of this.”

“I am. But…I have to admit I’m a little jealous.” He looks down, avoiding eye contact.

“Jealous? Why? You weren’t jealous with Hyunjin?” I say, remembering how open he’d been about our crazy night.

He tilts his head back up, locking his eyes onto mine. “You were attracted to Hyunjin, but you didn’t have feelings for him.” His voice was low and hesitant. “I know you love Binnie. Right now it’s more of a ‘friend’ love, but it has the potential to develop into something more.”

I cup his face in my hands and rest my forehead against his. “Yes. But I’m in love with you, dummy. That’s not gonna change.”

A smile spreads across his face. “Promise?” he asks, looking for reassurance

“I promise.” Our lips meet in a tender kiss.

[dustedmagazine]

Liam Grant — Prodigal Son (VHF Records)

How does one go about making music not usually understood as “punk” sound like punk? How best to apply the DIY ethos, the construction by destruction, of punk art to other genres? How can the guide-fires that have been lit by past iconoclasts of the underground illuminate explorations in different styles? Maine-based fingerstyle guitarist Liam Grant provides his answers to these questions in the form of his sophomore LP, Prodigal Son (out 2/21/2025 on VHF Records), a collection of anti-tradition-traditional-style music — American Primitive with a capital A and P through a dirtied lens — kindly and perhaps counter-intuitively dedicated to his parents.

The opening track, “Palmyra,” starts with a gong-like bang on the open strings of a Weissenborn lap dobro prior to dipping into a sunny, up-tempo Fahey-style postmodern country blues jam. A typical start for a post-Jack-Rose guitar soli record, except that it sounds like it was run through the same amp and pedals Doyle Wolfgang Von Frankenstein used while recording “Where Eagles Dare”, with the gain on the tape machine dimed à la Bowie recording Raw Power. The disconnect between the refinement of the playing and the fidelity of the recording is striking. It isn’t circumstantially lo-fi, nor is it an attempt to sound vintage like a dusty 78 rpm disc, going back to the source — it’s an intentional push into distortion, taking something pretty and covering it in mud.

This distressed audio technique works well with the blues style music, you can situate the gritty sound of the slide in some kind of smoky Roadhouse scenario — trade out the casual violence for folks talking over each other about obscure records from Western Massachusetts while the guitar wails. It takes on another dimension of abstraction when Grant switches out the slide for the twelve-string and gets in raga mode. The lightning-like knots of fingerpicking on the moody, roughly thirteen-minute eastern-infected journey “Salmon Tails Up The River” dissolve into flattened fields of blown-out tape fuzz, blending with the textured booms of the low end strings to create a speaker-straining mass of sound. Another lengthy twelve-string piece, “Insult to Injury,” opens the B-side with a meditative counterpoint to the sturm und drang of “Salmon Tails”,twinkling riffs cutting through the sonic haze like a gentle ship passing through ocean fog.

The last two songs on Prodigal Son show different ways of approaching folk, in a broad sense, in a punk way, first by paying tribute to an originator, second by an invocation of the DIY lifestyle. “A Moment at the Door” is a take on a composition by a master of boundary-clearing, broke-down blues guitar playing, Loren Mazzacane Connors. The overdriven recording here finds a comfortable middle ground where Grant ably recreates Connor’s minimalist electric guitar style on his six-string acoustic, magnetic hiss filling the stretches between notes. The album closer “Old Country Rock” is a loose and joyous live cut from the Grant/McGuire/Flaherty old-time trio. This is where the DIY lifestyle aspect of Grant’s project comes in. Last year this trio embarked on an extensive Southeastern US tour, booking it and conducting business in a way that would’ve been familiar to Black Flag in 1981, if you substituted phone calls for Instagram DMs. Twenty years ago, the original incarnation of Old Crow Medicine Show were constantly touring road-dogs bringing Beale Street jug band songs from the twenties and thirties to places no one had ever played them before. The *music* wasn’t punk, but they were – not because of how they sounded but because of how they did things. Patti Smith, asked likely for the millionth time what punk was, said “To me, punk rock is the freedom to create, freedom to be successful, freedom to not be successful, freedom to be who you are.” Punk has never been an aesthetic genre. It’s a way of being, and Liam Grant literally slides into it on the first track of Prodigal Son.

Joshua Moss

[johnkatsmc5]

Hot Apple Band "So Long, Noodle House" 2023 Australia Psych Folk Rock

full spotify

https://open.spotify.com/album/1aWJqqXprV1IiHy3SkDL7s

Hot Apple Band’s long-awaited debut album, So Long, Noodle House is a collection of 11 tracks recorded between 2019-2022, mostly at Jack Kinder’s home studio in Strathfield, Sydney. Once the pandemic hit, Jack and Lewis Mosley had ample time to give birth to the songs, allowing for this body of work so it could become all that it deserved to be. The resulting album will no doubt please long-time fans, with a number of songs being staples from the band’s live repertoire. So Long, Noodle House is symbolic sign-off on the band’s past and an exciting peek into what’s to come.

The record covers broad ground, from 70s imbued alt-country and catchy Beatles-era pop, through to emotive folk and soft rock. Coming-of-age themes run deep in the album, as Jack Kinder's lyrics touch on life changes, friendship, shitty jobs and of course, love. With Kinder's smooth vocals, clever arrangements and gorgeous vintage production, and Lewis Mosley’s unforgettable lead guitar, slide and keyboard performance, Hot Apple Band’s debut has the same charm of some of the best records from the early 1970s, radiating George Harrison, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Harry Nilsson and Fanny in a similar style to modern counterparts such as Drugdealer, Weyes Blood, Daniel Romano and The Lemon Twigs....~

Along with Bures Band, the best new export out of the Aussie shores has been Hot Apple Band. The band’s debut, So Long Noodle House, is set for release in a couple of weeks and they’re slipping out one more single before the full package hits the shelves. Taking a decidedly looser approach than the rest of the album, “Not Today” ditches the album’s more refined streak of country rock for something more ragged and weathered. “Not Today” rocks the listener with a hammock-bound ease. There’s still twang in the tank, but this is for the late afternoon drifters. An unlikely single, but all part of the charm of So Long’s sway. The new album is out November 24th from Third Eye Stimuli and Earth Libraries....~

So Long Noodle House has been holding court on the speakers around here for the past few months, as you may well have noticed. Along with The Bures Band, the duo serves up one of the best Aussie platters of the year, and like their contemporaries they share an affinity for the more sun-splashed vistas of the ‘70s. The two bands share a knack for West Coast comfort, though Hot Apple Band also have an Apple Records in ‘em, streak waxed to a walnut sheen and pumping out pop that skirts the Harrison/Badfinger valley with amiable ease. Throw in a few nods tipping towards the works of Nilsson, Jeff Lynne and Roy Wood and those of you with Drugdealer and Lemon Twigs LPs on the shelf ought to perk up and pay attention.

Jack Kinder and Lewis Mosley prove a formidable songwriting pair, turning coming of age yearning with a soft spot for sunshine harmonies into a golden-hued debut. The record is soaked in sunburnt guitar, with Mosley’s leads often leaving a few scorch marks on the soul as they pass on by, but more often than not the record lounges in an afternoon warmth. Its the attention to detail and atmosphere that makes So Long Noodle House stick to the ribs. Kinder’s production hews to vintage forms, leaving a bit of a Kodachrome veneer on the album — faded and folded in just the right spots. While the record was undoubtedly meticulously constructed the band makes it feel effortless, weaving power pop, folk, country saunter, and AOR touches into a dazzling tapestry. Its an ambitious debut, and hopefully just the beginning from the songwriting pair.....~

Tracklist

A1 Bobbin' for Apples A2 Martin Moming A3 One Day (I'll See) A4 So Long A5 Not Today B6 The Hill B7 'Til the End (Again) B8 Changing B9 Mike Offeecup B10 Old Age B11 So Long, Noodle House

Hot Apple Band "So Long Noodle House" 2023 Australia Psych Folk Rock

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2024/12/hot-apple-band-so-long-noodle-house.html?view=magazine

https://johnkatsmc5.tumblr.com/post/770137027058483200/hot-apple-band-so-long-noodle-house-2023

[eldritchxembers]

Walking through the picturesque streets of Cardinal Hill, you find Calamity ‘Cal’ Bardot, the 35 year old veterinarian/animal rehabilitationist originally from Portland, Oregon. Living alongside them in such a small town, you know that they're engaging and non-committal, but what you might not know is that they are a witch, and that they’re hiding something… ― Sophia Bush, bisexual, woman, and she/her.

Name: Calamity Kidd Bardot

Nickname: Cal, Kidd, Dizzy (only by her father)

Family: Clint (Father, Deceased - 1989), Helen (Mother, Estranged), Wyatt (Brother, Estranged), Shira (Sister, ???)

Likes: vintage motorcycles, fixing her father's classic car, dark chocolate, strong coffee (with or without vodka), stargazing

Dislikes: small talk, people who harm animals, loud, crowded places

Familiar Animal: a maine coon named Nemo

Favorite Song: "Head Like a Hole" - NIN

Theme Song: "The Killing Moon" by Echo & the Bunnymen

Character Inspirations: Willow Rosenberg (BtVS), River Song (Doctor Who), Faye Valentine (Cowboy Bebop), Nico Robin (One Piece).

Backstory:

The Bardot family tree has roots twisted by silence and storms. In Portland's rain-soaked suburbs, Cal learned early that love and pain often came wrapped in the same package. Her father Clint, a man who carried his own childhood like a set of brass knuckles, taught her both guitar chords and how to guard her heart. Every Sunday, he'd take her to his auto shop, showing her how to coax life back into dying engines while classic rock crackled through speakers caked with grease and time.

Helen Bardot, with her stark elegance and carefully curated social calendar, treated her marriage like another piece of fine art in their craftsman home - something to be displayed rather than lived in. She and Clint had found each other at a time when both needed the appearance of stability more than love itself. Their union was a masterclass in mutual pretense, each playing their part in a performance that fooled everyone except their children.

Wyatt, the eldest, bore the brunt of Clint's expectations and fists. He was the first draft of Clint's attempt to create the son he thought he should have, and like most first drafts, it was marked with heavy revisions and frustrated cross-outs. Cal would often find Wyatt in their shared bathroom, pressing cold washcloths to fresh bruises, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror with a mixture of shame and resignation.

Then came that day - the day that earned Cal her nickname and changed the power dynamic forever. She was seven, gangly and fierce, when she found Clint cornering Wyatt in the garage. The sound of Clint's raised voice and Wyatt's quiet apologies had become as familiar as dinner bells in their house, but something in Cal snapped. She stepped between them, full of childhood defiance, and took the hit meant for her brother. When Clint's knuckles connected with her jaw, she planted her feet like tree roots and said those words: "I'm not dizzy yet."

The nickname "Dizzy" stuck - Clint's way of remembering both her defiance and his shame. It became a complex token of their relationship, a reminder of the moment his daughter proved she was just as stubborn, just as unbreakable as him.

The real fracture in the family came when Shira, then nine, trusted their mother with a secret that should have been safe: she wasn't the boy everyone thought she was. Helen, ever conscious of appearances, couldn't bear the thought of what the neighborhood would say. When she told Clint, his reaction was swift and final. He packed up that night, but not alone - he took Cal, his "reliable one," the child who reminded him most of himself.

Living with Clint in a small apartment above the auto shop in Cardinal Hill, Cal learned the geography of her father's demons. She watched him drink himself to sleep, heard his nightmares, and began to understand that monsters are made, not born. She became both daughter and caretaker, learning to gauge his moods like checking tire pressure - a skill that would later serve her well with injured animals.

The witch part of Cal's story began in those years above the auto shop. Magic found her like stray cats find kind souls - naturally and necessarily. It started small: plants thriving in impossible conditions, animals seeking her out for help, wounds healing just a little too quickly under her touch. She kept this part of herself hidden from Clint, adding it to the growing collection of secrets she carried.

Meanwhile, Wyatt disappeared into the world of tech startups in Seattle, building firewalls instead of relationships. Shira found refuge in Portland's queer community, blooming into herself despite the family's fractures. Helen maintained her social calendar, telling friends her husband and daughter were "finding themselves" - as if absence was just another fashion trend.

Cal learned to live in the spaces between - between her father's love and his rage, between her family's past and their scattered present, between the mundane world of veterinary medicine and the hidden realm of her magic. She became an expert at straddling worlds, at healing what's broken while keeping her own cracks carefully concealed.

Now, at 35, living in Cardinal Hill, Cal has built a life that looks whole from the outside. Her veterinary practice thrives, her father's old guitar sits in her living room, and she's known as the person who can fix just about any animal that crosses her path. But underneath it all, she's still that girl standing in the garage, refusing to fall down, carrying secrets like spare change in her pockets.

What the good people of Cardinal Hill don't know - what they can't know - is that some of her healing comes from more than just medical knowledge. They don't see how the moonlight catches in her hair during midnight rituals, or how the local wildlife seems to watch her with knowing eyes. They don't notice how plants lean toward her as she walks past, or how storms seem to skip over injured animals in her care.

The biggest secret, though, isn't her magic. It's the gnawing guilt she carries about Shira, about leaving her behind that night. It's the weight of being the "good" child, the one Clint chose to take, and the responsibility she feels to somehow make it right. This guilt feeds her drive to heal, to fix, to make whole what's broken - whether it's a wounded hawk or a fractured family.

And somewhere in Cardinal Hill, behind the warm smile and gentle hands of their local vet, Calamity Bardot holds these pieces of herself together with magic and sheer will, wondering if she'll ever stop feeling like she needs to prove she isn't dizzy yet.

Relationships:

Helen: The Mother She Could Never Please

Helen Bardot moved through life like she was perpetually on stage, each gesture calculated, each word measured. To young Cal, watching her mother was like studying a foreign language - beautiful but incomprehensible. Helen's love came with conditions: straight A's earned a slight smile, a perfectly pressed dress might warrant a pat on the shoulder, and winning a beauty pageant meant a rare "That's my girl" at one of her mother's garden parties.

But Cal was all scraped knees and motor oil stains, more comfortable under a car with her father than at Helen's afternoon teas. Her mother's attempts to mold her into a proper young lady slid off like water on waxed canvas. "Calamity," Helen would sigh, the name taking on a different meaning in her mouth, "must you always look like you've been wrestling in the dirt?"

The final fracture between mother and daughter came not during the night Clint took Cal away, but in the silence that followed. Helen never called, never fought for her. Years later, Cal would learn that her mother had redecorated her bedroom within a week, turning it into a sewing room as if erasing all evidence of her existence. The message was clear: imperfect things had no place in Helen Bardot's carefully curated world.

Wyatt: The Brother She Chose to Shield

Three years older but infinitely more vulnerable, Wyatt became Cal's first rescue project. She learned to read the weather patterns of their father's moods to protect him, developed an uncanny ability to appear just when Wyatt needed an interruption or escape route. At twelve, she was already redirecting Clint's attention with strategic questions about carburetors or perfectly timed clumsy accidents.

Their dynamic confused outsiders - the little sister standing guard over her big brother. But Wyatt understood. He taught her coding in return, late nights spent hunched over a secondhand laptop, whispering about binary codes and escape sequences. "You're like a buffer overflow," he once told her, "small but capable of changing the whole program."

When Wyatt finally left for college, Cal slipped him her savings - $342.78 earned from mowing lawns and fixing neighbors' cars. "Don't come back," she whispered fiercely. "I've got things handled here." He tried to refuse the money, but she shoved it in his backpack along with a note: "Being strong doesn't mean you have to stay."

Shira: The Sister She Couldn't Save

The age gap between Cal and Shira - seven years - made Cal feel more like a third parent than a sister, but she embraced the role with fierce dedication. While Helen fretted over Shira's "peculiar behavior" and Clint maintained gruff disapproval, Cal created safe spaces. Their secret fort in the backyard became a sanctuary where Shira could wear Cal's old dresses and talk about feeling like a stranger in her own skin.

Cal still remembers the day Shira, then seven, asked why God had put her in the wrong body. She remembers pulling her little sister close, saying, "Maybe God didn't make a mistake. Maybe you're magic, like those caterpillars that have to transform to become their true selves."

Shira was more than just a sister; she was Cal's heart, her conscience, the part of her that refused to be broken. The night Clint took her away, it was Shira's silent plea that echoed in Cal's mind. She had failed to protect her, to shield her from her father's wrath.

The guilt was a constant companion, a heavy weight that she carried with her. She dreamed of a day when she could make it up to her sister, when she could offer her the love and support she deserved.

Clint: The Man Who Shaped Her

Clint Bardot was a man of contradictions, a force of nature both gentle and destructive. He taught Cal the beauty of fixing things - engines, friendships, even broken hearts. But he also taught her the ugly side of power, the way it could twist a man's soul and leave a trail of wreckage behind.

The physical abuse was a constant undercurrent, a dark secret woven into the fabric of their life together. It wasn't just Wyatt who bore the brunt of his rage; Cal, too, had her share of bruises and broken promises. She learned to read the signs, to anticipate the storms, and to protect herself and her siblings whenever possible.

Despite the pain, she found herself strangely drawn to his strength, his ability to find beauty in broken things. She saw in him a reflection of herself, a survivor who had learned to endure. But she also saw the toll it took, the way it had hardened his heart and clouded his judgment.

Cal's love for her father was a complex tapestry of love, fear, and resentment. She wanted to break the cycle, to show him a different path, but she also knew that sometimes the only way to heal is to distance yourself from the source of the pain.

[sirfrogsworth]

what's the rarest pedal you'd love to own, and how did you find out about it?

First thing I should mention is that I had to stop playing guitar a few years ago because I could only play sitting up and I just got so tired so quickly. I'm hoping I can find my way back to playing eventually, but right now photography is my priority.

That said, when I was playing, I had quite a cool selection of pedals. And tragically they all died when our basement flooded. I was never able to replace them and it still makes me sad to this day.

My favorite pedal that I never quite mastered was the Electro Harmonix Micro Synth.

I would love to get a vintage version some day and finally figure out how to make it sound non-bonkers. When you adjust those sliders to just the right spot you can make some very weird and awesome sounds. But if you miss the mark it just sounds like angry robots fighting to the death.

Another rare pedal I never got to mess with was the original Uni-Vibe.

Jimi was famous for using a Uni-Vibe. He had it cranked in his famous rendition of the Star Spangled Banner.

It was meant to emulate a rotary speaker. Which was an actual speaker that just spun around and created almost a Doppler effect on your guitar tone. As if the sound was traveling away from you and then towards you over and over.

Actually, I might just want to get an actual rotary speaker. That would be neat too.

[watchingyouflytl]

Chapter 1: Nozomi Kasaki is Unlucky (Part 4)

What stopped Natsuki’s long recollection was the melody of an electric guitar that sounded like the whinny of a horse. When they went to karaoke, this was always what came last. Natsuki opened the soft case she had brought in, placing the electric guitar atop her knees. If she connected the guitar to the karaoke machine with a shield cable, it quickly transformed into an instant live venue.

Karaoke these days was really convenient, since you could tune your instruments, and even customize effects. On top of that, displaying the guitar chords on the monitor meant it could be used as a substitute music stand.

What a perfect place it was to spend this moratorium period in January, on the cusp of graduation. There was no one who would mind no matter how much noise they made, and any way they chose to spend their time was allowed.

The guitar Natsuki held in her arms was a Yamaha Pacifica 112V, and its color was Old Violin Sunburst. Its glossy dark brown got darker the closer it got to the edges. Natsuki had received it from her older cousin, and it was her first electric guitar.

And sitting next to Natsuki was Yuuko, who had a differently colored version of the same guitar model. The one she was using was in Vintage White. Even though it had the same shape as her guitar, the design used ivory as its main color.

Yuuko had bought this guitar after that summer. The two of them had gone to a music store. Thinking back on it now, that had been the first time they had gone somewhere with just the two of them. Natsuki had responded to Yuuko’s request of “For the moment, I want a cute one,” by recommending the same guitar model as her own.

Had she planned to follow Natsuki’s advice from the beginning? Yuuko had promptly made her decision, breaking into her savings from her new year’s gift money and buying a guitar set that had tens of thousands of yen. It had come with necessary items for beginners like a mini amp and a tuner, a shield cable, and a strap.

The awkward movements of Yuuko’s fingers in the beginning had, after two years, come to the point where they looked good. Perhaps the speed at which Yuuko had absorbed it had been because Natsuki had been skillful at teaching her, or because of her natural musical sense. It felt good to have the upper hand and take on the role of a teacher, but it was much more fun now that they were able to play together with an equal relationship.

Natsuki enjoyed the sensation of sliding her fingers across the six strings. Fat strings, thin strings. By adding just a bit of stimulation, the difference became absolutely clear.

“What should we play? It might be good to practice the graduation song.”

Finishing her tuning, Yuuko played the strings with her pick. Their twang resounded strongly through the speakers.

Natsuki had started the guitar in her second year of middle school. Her cousin, who had formed a band in university, had taken the opportunity of getting a job to buy a new guitar, giving her the guitar she had been using up until that point. The reason her cousin had bought an electric guitar instead of an acoustic guitar had been because, in her not-properly-soundproof room, she had been able to practice by plugging headphones into the guitar.

The melody directly rattling your eardrums through headphones was wonderful, but freeing your ears to hear the guitar felt even better. The tingling vibrations directly reached your skin, sending shivers all the way down to the pit of your stomach.

“The graduation song, huh, I haven’t really liked it for a while.”

“That’s cause you’re twisted, Natsuki.”

“To put it simply, I can’t relate to songs that say nice things.”

“There’s no way that only bad things are the truth, though. It’s just easier to look like you mean it when you have bad intentions.”

“As expected of the president, you sure know how to say it.”

“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you.”

“It’s what I really think.”

Yuuko sniffed. Her legs, dangling from the sofa, crossed and tightened inward.

Would she shed tears at her high school graduation ceremony? Like Nozomi had that time.

As hard as she tried, she couldn’t imagine her own face as she cried, so Natsuki gazed at Yuuko’s side profile as she fiddled with the karaoke control panel. When the music started, the room became darker. The contours of Yuuko’s smooth cheeks were illuminated by the colorful light spilling from the screen.

After their graduation ceremony would be their university’s entrance ceremony. Natsuki would be going to the same school as Yuuko and Nozomi, so their drifting apart didn’t feel quite real. Since Nozomi had come back to the concert band in their second year, the four of them had pretty much been together. They had been about to fall into the delusion that these normal days would continue endlessly, but every time the topic of Mizore’s college of music came up, they knew that that was an illusion. 

Mizore would be taking the entrance exam for a college of music. Even if Nozomi wasn’t there.

“Hahhh.”

Yuuko asked the deeply sighing Natsuki, “What’s up?” with a fed-up face. Placing the tablet atop the table, she faintly narrowed her eyes. Not particularly liking the gaze that seemed to be seeing through everything, Natsuki purposefully made her voice more cheerful.

“Just wondering what clubs we’ll join when we go to university.”

“Nozomi was saying she’d join the orchestra club.”

“She would do something like that, that girl loves the flute.”

“What are you gonna do, Natsuki?”

“Hmm.”

Cradling her guitar, Natsuki rested her chin in her hands. She had no intention of continuing with the same instrument the way Nozomi did. That was because she had already been satisfied by her time in the concert band. Natsuki and the others’ generation had left behind spectacular results in both their second and their years, and she had gone all out in her job as the vice president, completely out of character for her. Perhaps the most fitting expression for it was that she had become burned out.

Yes, Natsuki was burned out. She still loved the euphonium now, as well as concert band. But beyond that, she didn’t want to try her hardest in that way ever again. She was tired.

“How about you, Yuuko?”

At her question, Yuuko grasped the guitar in her hands as though she were hugging it tight.

“I want to play guitar.”

“Like now?”

“Even more than now.”

“Is the president cheating with light music?”

“It’s not cheating, I truly love both of them.”

Holding the strings down with her fingers, Yuuko strummed the guitar with her purple pick. Mixing in with the sounds flowing from the TV monitor, the impromptu music came to life in the narrow space. Yuuko always played the guitar so enjoyably. Her small lips beat out the “la la la”s of a nameless melody.

How was it for Natsuki? She liked playing the guitar, but that was all. She wasn’t thinking she wanted to be a pro, nor did she think she could.

In the bass section, there had been a kouhai in the year below her from a powerhouse school. She had been in charge of the concert band’s single string instrument, the contrabass. It didn’t suit her small figure, that two-meter-tall instrument. But, in defiance of the gap in size, her kouhai had shown off her performing skills with an innocent smile. It had been amazing. It had been overwhelming.

When that girl had played the guitar at a concert, she had honestly been shocked. Because she had been on a similar string instrument, letting the contrabass girl play the guitar had been an easy decision. Her kouhai had laughed, “They made me play it in middle school a lot too,” looking unfazed at the high-level sheet music she was playing.

Why on earth was it that she continued to play guitar herself even when she had realized that was what you would call genius? The earth was overflowing with both geniuses and hard workers, so a regular person like herself sometimes lost sight of the meaning of why she was playing music at all.

“Ah, it’s your favorite band.”

Natsuki consciously raised her gaze from where it had fallen at Yuuko’s words. Antwerp Blue had appeared on the information channel being broadcast to the karaoke room. They were talking about the new music that Natsuki had just bought. Every time the vocalist said something, the young female MC would interject exaggeratedly. 

“I wanted to make a song that the listeners would think is fun to listen to.”

The vocalist calmly spun his words as he showed white teeth appropriate for a performer. It wasn’t as though they really needed to care what the people listening to them thought. Just seeing the members enjoying themselves was fun for Natsuki.

“I really like their new song.” 

Yuuko said this carelessly while pointing to the screen. Natsuki gave a wry smile, thinking that their interests really were direct opposites of one another.

Their footsteps on the way home from karaoke were slower than usual. This was because the guitars they carried were heavy. In the end, today Natsuki and Yuuko had stayed at the karaoke place from 10:00, when it had opened, until 7:00, when free time had ended. Since it was cheap, oftentimes they’d unexpectedly come across other Kitauji students. When they had run into a concert band first-year once, their amazed words of “You are getting along well as usual, President and Vice President” had been a bit baffling. Mainly the “as usual” part.

“Nozomi didn’t do guitar even up to the very end.”

As Natsuki mumbled this, Yuuko said somewhat sulkily, “She’s devoted to the flute.” Yuuko had reached out to her several times about whether or not she would start the guitar, but Nozomi had turned them down every time. Though she was kind to everyone regardless of who they were, she had some unexpectedly stubborn parts as well.

Her exhaled white breath. Natsuki looked up at the sky as snow blew in her line of sight. It was wet snow with a lot of moisture in it. By the time the snowflakes fell to the ground, they had almost entirely melted into droplets of water. If it had been raining, she’d have opened her umbrella, but since it was snow, perhaps it wasn’t worth bothering. Watching a pattern of water droplets forming on Yuuko’s coat, Natsuki rubbed her elbows.

“You two going home from somewhere?”

Yuuko called out as she dashed forward towards something she had found. Beyond her waving hand were Nozomi and Sumire. So Nozomi’s previous plans had been with Sumire. Nozomi and Sumire both laughed together at the sight of Natsuki dashing after Yuuko.

“You two are always together, Natsuki and Yuuko,” Sumire said with a grin.

“It’s not like we always are, though. Anyway, where are you two going?”

Casually denying this, Yuuko countered them with the same query. Digging through her shoulder bag, Nozomi took out a flier, saying, “Here.” The yellow rectangular paper was printed with the name of a cafe in a rather fashionable font.

“What’s this?”

“We were checking out venues. We’re going to hold an event here.”

Sumire answered Natsuki’s question. Yuuko blinked in surprise. “An event.”

“The five of us formed an instrumental band when we quit the concert band, didn’t we? So we were thinking of renting this cafe with just our band to do an event celebrating graduation. Tickets are 500 yen per person, so if we invite about 40 friends, we can pay for it.”

“Nozomi, aren’t you not involved with the light music club?”

“I’m just tagging along because it seems interesting. Since Sumire and the others are working so hard, I want to cheer them on.”

“When I asked Nozomi to be a part of the band, she rejected me.”

Sumire said this in a voice that didn’t suggest any sad feelings at all. Nozomi lightly lowered her eyebrows.

“After all, there’s only five members in Reticle, right? There’s no way I could suddenly step in.”

“You could just participate as a guest.”

“If I were going to participate, I think it would just be as a staff member. I’m sure there’s a lot to help out with.”

“Nozomiii! What a nice girl you are, that would be a huge help!”

Sumire clung to Nozomi with a theatrical exclamation. Sumire was always high-energy, and Nozomi laughed with her mouth wide open.

“Reticle” was the name of the instrumental band that Sumire and the others had formed. Since it was made of five members who had quit the concert band, it was made up of a drummer, a keyboard player, a trumpet player, a sax player, and a trombone player. They were entirely devoted to playing jazz, and even appeared in events outside of school.

“Ah, anyway, why not ask Natsuki and Yuuko?”

The carefree, laughing Nozomi suddenly turned her focus on them. “For what?” Natsuki asked, tilting her head. Sumire, having abandoned her, clapped her hands together in delight.

“That might be a good idea!”

“No, what do you mean?”

“We’re looking for a band to do the opening act for our event! Just having our band play for two hours feels kinda lacking, so we were wondering if someone else could also come out. See, if we had someone singing, it would really get everyone pumped up.”

“No, we don’t really know any bands ourselves, though?”

Though it was a very direct answer, Sumire let out a shout of laughter as though she had said something funny.

“What are you saying. You and Yuuko should come perform, Natsuki. On your twin guitars.”

“Huuuuuh?”

Natsuki and Yuuko’s exclamations harmonized perfectly. In the interlude, Nozomi unnecessarily said, “Perfectly in sync.”

“Kids from Minami Middle will be coming too, so I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you having fun, Natsuki, Yuuko. How about it, a two-piece band?”

How about it, Natsuki had never had the urge to form a band with Yuuko before. Nozomi grasped Natsuki’s arm as she was about to immediately refuse, smiling innocently at her.

“Should be good. I know the concert band kids will also be happy to see the President and Vice President combo!”

President and Vice President. Though they were her and Yuuko’s titles, being thought of that way by Sumire made her feel a bit uneasy. Surely, to Sumire, the words “president of the concert band” would still point to Nozomi.

The continuation of the cut-off recollections she had had earlier was both a bad end and a happy end. The year after Sumire and Nozomi and the others quit the band, the new music teacher and advisor Taki had come to Kitauji High School to replace Rikako-sensei when she had gone on maternity leave. He was the exact opposite type from before, a presence that combined the high schoolers’ expectations and nightmares as a Spartan and handsome and capable instructor.

In the beginning, he had been called horrible things like “the devil” and “ogre,” but Taki had painted over the club’s lazy atmosphere before their eyes. He really had amazing skill. It was enough to make you laugh dryly, since what had the struggles of the members who had quit even been for?

Nozomi had returned to the concert band the summer of their second year. Kitauji, which had been a weak school, had been confirmed as an entrant in the Kansai Competition, and the 55 A members had already been decided. Seeing Kitauji being reborn, Nozomi had quit the adult concert band circle and decided to come back to the concert band. Of course, she hadn’t been able to participate in that year’s competition.

If Nozomi hadn’t quit the club, surely the future would have been different. She would have been absorbed into the center of the club, and would have been able to put her quick wits to good use without any regrets. She might even have been the club president instead of Yuuko. Thinking of Yuuko being the vice president supporting her made her resent how rich her own imagination was.

Even though Nozomi became a concert member when they became third years, even though they got results at the Kansai Competition, guilt haunted the deepest part of Natsuki’s heart.

Because, at that time, the one who had pushed Nozomi had unmistakably been Natsuki.

She should have told her to stay in the club. She should have said, with a hell of an expression, there’s no one else who loves concert band more than you. But that was all in the past.

She was slightly startled by the coldness of the snow that plopped right onto the tip of her nose. She realized how far they had come since the crossroads that summer had been. Natsuki exhaled in a puff of white breath with no lingering regrets as Sumire put her hands together, asking “Please!”

Any sentimentality that she held might possibly have been contempt.

“That might be nice, a band.”

As Natsuki nodded, Sumire raised both hands in a show of overexaggerated happiness.

“Don’t go deciding things on your own.” 

White snowflakes fell on Yuuko’s bangs as she puffed out her cheeks. Trying to catch them between her thumb and pointer finger, Yuuko brought her eyebrows together even more discontentedly.

“Nice, now you’ve also gotten motivated for real, haven’t you?”

“Doing it in and of itself is okay. It’s not that, it pisses me off that you decided this on your own, Natsuki.”

“What a pain.”

“What was that?”

“Seeeee, Yuuko-chan. Let’s form a band together, ‘kay?”

“Excuse me, I’m not a five-year old kid, though?”

Natsuki was swayed by this feigned grumpiness. That was because she now knew that that was Yuuko’s way of indulging her.

“Seriously, you two get along so well.”

Natsuki stole a glance at Nozomi’s profile as she said this with a light tone. It was always only in a single moment when Nozomi showed a sign of melancholy.

The edges of her lips lifted, and with a glimpse of her white teeth, the usual pleasant smile returned to Nozomi’s face.

“I’ll also cheer you on with Mizore.”

Yuuko responded to Nozomi’s words with “It can’t be helped” in a not-at-all-bad voice. Feeling the weight of the guitar on her back, Natsuki re-wound the scarf that was getting warm around her neck.

The fact that she wasn’t carrying a euphonium was just a little lonely.

Chapter 1  Nozomi Kasaki is unlucky.

(Maybe that’s also a likable part of her)

[xalecjacobs]

Merry Christmas 🎄🎁

- Alec

Mama Jacobs wishes you a Merry Christmas with a tin of her homemade peppermint bark

—

@lucie-newman

To keep warm and cozy this winter, it’s basically a wearable fuzzy blanket. Additionally, I would like to extend the offer to be Unknown Destination’s official photographer for the year of 2024, covering all promotional material for the band.

—

@isabelarcmero

This year, you’ve got a new speaker to listen to tunes loudly on, a knit blanket to keep warm, and a new Coach wallet. One of the mini ones for your cards and cash. Even though you’re a pain in the ass sometimes, you deserve all of this and more.

—

@mcgreyson

What better way to kick off the year than with a new wallet? That, and some new gloves and a scarf to keep warm through the winter. Here’s to another year kicking ass in the shop together.

—

@darpow

New year, new headphones. Now the more important part. I had the best of our original music as a band from that’s ever been performed live pressed, so Unknown Destination is officially on vinyl! Including you on drums. Thanks for another rad year jamming out together!

—

@emelineviolette

Somehow being a pain in my ass only gets you rewarded.. This year, those rewards include a bunch of new chokers, a new camera to capture memories for a collage, a sweater and yes.. a tortilla blanket to turn into a burrito in. Thanks for another year of fun. At least sometimes.

—

@cagenewman + Colton

@cordeliaeli + Rosalyn

First off, congratulations on the engagement! Look forward to celebrating that. For the time being, it’s the time of year for spoiling. Mainly the kids, to no surprise. For baby Rosalyn, a pair of pink glitter Vans. Also, yes, that is a fully functional toddler size guitar. Lastly, a little jungle gym thing that might help tire her out when she needs to go to bed. Cordelia, some new kitchen stuff. Not just because I enjoy my weekend baked goods. I know how much you enjoy making food, so a new matching marble rolling pin and board as well as some new bakeware. For Colt, some beanies since it’s winter time, one of those controllers you can attach to your phone to play, and a vintage Bills jacket. Lastly, Cage, beanie and a scarf to keep warm through the winter, some flannels and a new jacket to add to the collection.