#string orchestra sheet music

[ratsarecute4]

Anyone want an arrangement of the Lighting of the Beacons by Howard Shore? I arranged it for string orchestra (violin 1 & 2, viola, cello, bass) and this includes the full score plus the seperate parts. I just decided I wanted to have the sheet music to play the violin part, but I no longer have a quartet or orchestra to play it with :( so you guys can have it for free. I also have arrangements for many other lotr songs for the violin, if anyone wants any.

[sjwallin]

Check out behind-the-scenes news regarding my recent three recording sessions, as well as new arrangements and the revisit of a favorite older piece of music!

[359thautisticmetallegion]

I play viola. I always had a problem with playing louder than I needed to. Maybe 24 fortes would have solved my problem.

I actually broke a string right before a concert once, and probably the most important for that piece. I just pretended the string was there the entire time, not letting it get to me one bit.

[automaticfrenchhorn]

Today's study combines some of the harmonic ideas I've been interested in lately, to explore a hazy texture.

The first main idea I used is major harmony (usually with added 9ths) with the b6 in the bass. Nearly every sonority here is based on this. I find these chords seem to "float" as the upper structure isn't related to the bass note, but isn't so disconnected as to sound too dissonant. The root and fifth of the major chord can be heard as the major 3rd and 7th over the bass, making it a kind of augmented major 7th chord.

The second idea is the melodic doublings. I've done plenty of these as parallel doublings, which I like using to alter the timbre of a melody, but here I used diatonic doublings instead. What I have found is instead of supporting the melody, these doublings can obscure it when they are used just one scale step away from the melody.

At the climax of the piece, however, these two approaches to doubling are both used. The "central" melody exists on the outer voices (Violin II.2 and Cello 2), with a doubling at the fifth in the middle to reinforce it. These solid doublings are designed to prevent the main line from being too obscured. Then, doublings a step inward from these outer voices were added, such that the melody is doubled by step on both sides. Since the other doublings work to bring clarity to the main melody, these lines don't obscure it much, but do add a similar sense of haziness by means of "colouring" the melody instead.

As always, these pieces are welcome for anyone and everyone to play! All I ask is that you share it with me, because I'd love to hear it done by live players!

[morganbritton132]

Musical prodigy Steve, who is way too casual about this gift. He plays seven instruments and could read sheet music before he could spell his own name, and literally never mentions it.

He has perfect pitch and can perfectly replicate a song he’s heard once on the radio. If you gave him an instrument he’s never played before and an hour, he’d made something beautiful out of it. And no one knows.

Well, some people know.

His mom still signs him up for recitals and performances out of state, but Steve never talks about it. He just says he has something to do with him mom that weekend, and then goes to preform in a concert hall in front of hundreds of people.

Honestly, Steve kinda assumed everybody was like that.

His parents never made it seem like it was a big deal. Hell, he doesn’t even consider that he could go to college for music (not that his dad would ever allow it). It’s basically a hobby.

It’s only after concussion number two when he’s sitting in English class listening to Eddie Munson complaining for a week straight about how he has an ‘epic vision’ for a ‘new song’ but it’ll never come to fruition because he’d need a full string orchestra.

And then another week listening to him hum the melody of the song.

And then a couple more days with the studio equipment that his parents got him for Christmas that Steve starts to think that maybe this ability isn’t all that common.

Eddie - still complaining - just stares at him with shock and confusion when Steve sits a cassette down in front of him and tells him to, “Stop talking.”

Honestly, that should be it, right? Steve has spent more effort making mix tapes than that cassette and those were barely a blip in the week so…

So, why is Eddie Munson confronting him at his locker the next morning? Eddie’s hands are all over the place like, “Did you really find and pay an entire orchestra to play my music just so I’d be quiet?”

“No,” Steve says slowly because that’s insane. “I played your music so you’d be quiet… it clearly didn’t work.”

“You can play…”

“Yeah?”

Eddie just stares at him like he’s something worth staring at and then asks seriously, “Do you want to be in my band?”

[javen-tiger]

sorry i think its so weird that i came out of like a 14 year musical education with basically no comprehension of musical theory. im like totally incapable of playing without sheet music. i need a conductor.

[kccisfuckingmagical]

Bach to you

(Kerstin Casparij x ClassicalMusician!Reader)

The front door clicked shut with a quiet finality, and you didn’t need to look up from your sheet music to know who it was. The heavy sigh, the shuffling of boots being kicked off, the way the air in the flat seemed to sag with exhaustion—it was all unmistakably her.

Kerstin.

You kept playing, your fingers dancing over the keys of your oboe, the rich, mournful tones of Bach’s Oboe Concerto in A minor filling the space. The melody was steady, deliberate—a lifeline if she wanted to take it.

A soft thud told you she’d dropped her bag. Then, silence. You glanced up just in time to see her lean against the doorframe of the living room, still in her training gear, her hair a messy halo of blonde strands escaping her ponytail. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her shoulders were slumped in a way that made your chest ache.

She didn’t say anything. Just watched you, her expression unreadable.

You finished the movement before lowering your oboe, offering her a small smile. “Rough day?”

Kerstin exhaled sharply, rubbing her face. “Becks’ done her ankle in training. Again. That’s twice in three months.”

You winced sympathetically. “God, not before Chelsea?”

“Exactly.” She groaned, sinking onto the couch beside you, her body collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut. “And now we’re down another defender. It’s freaking exhausting.”

You set your oboe carefully on its stand and reached for her hand, threading your fingers through hers. Her skin was warm, calloused from hours of training in the gym, her nails short and practical. You squeezed gently, voice soft and careful. “You’re allowed to be tired, love.”

She let out a shaky breath, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I know. It’s just—sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever catch a break.”

You hummed, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. “Want me to keep playing?”

Kerstin nodded, her eyes fluttering shut. “Please. It’s the only thing that doesn’t feel like it’s asking something from me right now.”

You chuckled softly, lifting your oboe again. “Bach it is, then.”

As you played, the music wrapped around her like a blanket, the familiar phrases weaving through the tension in her muscles, coaxing her to relax. By the time you reached the adagio, her head had dropped, her breathing slow and even.

You smiled, moved over to her side, pressing another kiss to her hair. “Better?”

She mumbled something unintelligible against your shirt, but the way her fingers tightened around yours was answer enough.

Cheesy? Maybe. But sometimes, after a day like today, cheesy was exactly what she needed.

The morning of the Chelsea match dawned with that particular Manchester gloom that clung to the windows and made the city feel hushed. Kerstin had left before sunrise, her pre-match routine beginning in the dark. You'd felt the bed dip as she rose, her lips brushing your temple in a silent goodbye.

By the time you woke properly, the flat was empty save for the lingering scent of her coffee. You stretched, your fingers itching for your oboe—match days always made you restless. Settling at your music stand, you flipped through your performance binder until you landed on the glossy sleeve of your album with the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra. Bach: The Oboe Concertos.The recording engineers had captured the rich, woody timbre of your Loreé oboe perfectly.

You send the recording through your family shared Apple Music and sent it to Kerstin:

You🎵: For when the pitch feels too loud. Track 3. xx

The three dots appeared immediately:

Kerstin⚽️: Stealing my pre-match playlist spot from Stormzy. This is abuse.

Kerstin⚽️: Thank you. 🩵

Kerstin waited until the physio had finished strapping her ankles before pulling up the album on her phone. She'd downloaded it months ago—of course she had—but never dared play it where anyone might hear. Now, as the dressing room buzzed with pre-match energy, she connected her headphone with Bluetooth. (the nice one you'd bought her last Christmas) and let the opening notes of the A minor concerto fill her ears.

The effect was instantaneous. The tightness between her shoulders eased as your oboe's familiar voice wrapped around her. She closed her eyes, imagining you in your concert blacks, fingers flying over the silver keys—

"Bloody hell, is this classical?"

Kerstin's eyes flew open to see Jess Park looming over her, peering onto her screen, one eyebrow arched. Across the room, her best team buddy Mary Fowler's head snapped up like a meerkat's.

Kerstin stopped the track. "It's just—"

"Wait." Jess squinted her eyes. "Is this—?"

Jill Roord was already crossing the room, looking into Kerstin’s phone, her grin widening. "No. Way. This isn't just classical, this is y/n’s classical." She jabbed a finger at Kerstin's phone. "That's your missus!"

The dressing room erupted.

“Ooh, let's hear!" Laia abandoned her last minute hair adjustments.

Kerstin made a valiant attempt to shield her phone, but Jill was quicker, connecting her phone into the locker room’s speaker, and cranking the volume until your cadenza soared through the room.

Viv Miedema actually paused mid-stretch. "Jesus, she's good."

"Course she is," Jill crowed, dodging Kerstin's swipe. "She's at the Hallé! This is what you called? The real posh stuff!"

Kerstin buried her face in her hands as Mary started dramatically conducting an imaginary orchestra.

The game was everything they'd feared—physical, relentless, with Chelsea pressing high from the first whistle. By the 65th minute, Kerstin's kit was streaked with grass and sweat, her voice hoarse from organising the backline.

Then it happened: a late tackle that sent her sprawling, the ref waving play on. Kerstin rolled to her feet, blood roaring in her ears—

And there it was. The melody.

Not through any headphones, but in her bones, in the rhythm of her breathing. The opening phrase of your adagio movement rose unbidden, and before she could stop herself, she was humming it under her breath as she jogged back into position.

Lauren James, marking her tightly, gave her the most bewildered side-eye. "What the hell?"

From nearby, Jill choked back a laugh. "She's gone full Mozart!"

Kerstin ignored them, only mentally correcting her national teammate. It’s fucking Bach, you uncivilised barbarian. Focusing on the imaginary oboe line as she tracked back. The tension in her chest unraveled note by note.

After the loss against Chelsea four days ago, Man City finally won this Champions League 1st leg match 2-0 courtesy to Viv’s brace.

You were annotating a new orchestral score in the living room when the front door slammed.

"I'm never living this down," Kerstin announced, flopping onto the sofa face-first.

You marked your place with a pencil. "Let me guess—"

"Jill made the entire bus listen to your album. Twice." Her voice was muffled by the cushions. "Lily Murphy keeps calling me 'Maestro.'"

You bit your lip. "And did it—"

"Work?" Kerstin rolled over, fixing you with a glare that lacked any real heat. "Unfortunately." She tugged you down beside her, your oboe calluses catching against her warm palms. "Next time I’ll listen to your tracks under a Taylor Swift album cover"

You giggled and pressed a kiss on her cheek. "Pretty sure that’s copyright infringement, mijn liefje."

kerstin_casparij Shoutout to my personal oboist for the pre-match playlist upgrade 🎶 Bach being superior to Chelsea. @yourinstagram

[wizard-on-whales]

Devils Dance

(NSFW)

You're a violinist for the San Francisco Symphony, excited to work with your favorite band, but when you can't get a part right during rehearsals you hid away only to be found by the singer himself

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected sex, praising and degrading, semi-public, pet names

Word count: 2.6k

✭-----------------------------✭

Nothing had been going right today. First your alarm didn't go off on time which meant you were almost late for rehearsals, then when you finally got there you bumped into someone and they spilled their coffee all over you, and now you couldn't find your sheet music. You were digging through your violin case and folders, looking for it, but it was nowhere to be found. You let out a silent groan, frustrating already starting to spill out of you even though it was only 10 AM. You leaned over to the second chair violinist and asked if she had an extra copy of the music and finally luck was on your side because she did. She handed it over and you set it on your stand, getting to work practicing the familiar tunes.

Although you were a huge Metallica fan and had spent the last several days practicing and studying the sheet music there was one part that you could not get right. And sitting here practicing it in front of the whole orchestra and your favorite band was not helping your already terrible day. Several times now the conductor has had to stop and restart the entire song because of your mistakes, and as it happened again you couldn't help the tears falling from your eyes. You wasted no time before running out of the room, the hot streams of frustration and embarrassment trailing down your cheeks. You found a corner to hide in, setting your violin down in front of you. You wanted to throw it, smash it to pieces, but you held back.

You brought your knees up to your chest, dropping your head into them as you cried. You were sure your spot as first chair violin would be ruined after this. Another sob left your body as you curled further into yourself, wanting nothing more than to go home. You didn't hear the footsteps approaching you as you wiped your runny makeup off of your face. The hand that was gently placed on your shoulder made you jump and turn. Standing there was none other than James Hetfield himself, the man you have had a massive crush on for years. Your cheeks heat up, your heart racing in your chest as you quickly try to compose yourself.

“You alright?” He asked kindly, picking your violin up off the floor and moving it so that he could sit next to you. He sits the stringed instrument on his lap, plucking the strings slightly as he awaits your answer.

“Yeah, just…just a bad day,” You stutter, trying to smooth out your now wrinkled skirt. You tried to think of something else to say but god he smelled good and it was the only thing you could think about. Just the size of him and the feeling of his shoulder pressed against yours made your brain go blank. He was not a small man that was for sure, his broad shoulders and chest strained against the tight button up he wore and you were convinced if he made one wrong move a button would fly off.

“I noticed that. You sound great though, that part you can't get down seems real tough so I don't blame you,” His words seem genuine as he looks over at you. His fingers continue to fiddle with your violin and just as he grabs a tuning peg, his instincts telling him to turn it, you panic. You grab his hand to make him stop and he quickly pulls it away, noticing your worry.

“Sorry, I guess I wasn't thinking. They probably aren't like guitars are they,” He chuckles awkwardly, placing his hands off to his sides instead of the instrument.

“It's okay, same concept just a little harder,” You reassure him, your panic temporarily making you forget that you were upset.

“Play something,” He says, picking it up and handing it over to you. You stare at him in disbelief for a second before slowly taking the violin from him. You sit up a little straighter, positioning the instrument on your shoulder before taking the bow and placing it against the strings. You glance at him for a second and he gives you a nod. You take a breath before playing a song, deciding to play a version of Fade to Black that you composed yourself. It was a song you had prayed would be part of the album but unfortunately it wasn't. He watched intently as you played, a smile splayed across his features, and something else in his eyes that you couldn't quite pinpoint. You tried to avoid his gaze as you played but it was hard, his eyes were intense, drawing you in with interest and beauty. As you finished playing the intro to the song you removed your violin from your shoulder and awkwardly set it back down on the floor next to you.

“That was great! We should have added it to the setlist. Are you a fan then?” His praises cause you to blush, not expecting him to be so sincere. And the smile on his face as he spoke made you want to trip and fall right into his arms.

“Yeah..I've been a huge fan for years. I had posters of you all over my walls when I was a teenager and in college,” You admit shyly to him, trying to laugh it off so he didn't think you were weird. He chuckles slightly, his gaze still burning a hole through you. You catch his eyes flick down towards your chest for just a second before looking back towards your face. His tongue swipes over his lips and you finally realize what that look behind his eyes is. You feel as if he could devour you with just one look, ripping your clothes off with his stare.

“Oh yeah? What type of posters? Just me or the whole band?” His voice seemed to have gotten deeper somehow. You wiped your sweaty palms against your skirt, looking away from him for a second, but his gaze didn't falter.

“Well..it was mostly just you. I had one above my bed that I loved,” You swore he could hear your heart beating against your chest with how fast it was pounding.

“Really? You ever touch yourself to it?” He asked the question so casually that it almost didn't register in your brain. Your voice gets caught in your throat as your face burns red. He smiles wider, your reaction telling him everything he needs to know.

“Did you look up at it with your legs spread wishing I was really there?” He comes closer, resting his hands on the floor on either side of your legs. You lean back a little as you feel his breath on your face, anxiety pooling in your stomach.

“C'mon baby girl, use your words. Did you?” He leans further forward, causing you to lean away again. You were resting on your elbows, looking up at him at this point. You bit your lip slightly, unable to speak so you just nod your head thinking of all the times your fingers worked themselves against your sensitive parts, the image of him in your head. You had always imagined what it would be like, what he'd smell like, what he looked like under his clothes but you never imagined it would actually happen. Now you were laying underneath him, his lips grazing your neck, his cologne invading your nostrils.

“Yeah? Fuck yourself with your fingers trying to imagine they were my dick instead?” His voice was raspy and quiet in your ear. By now his body was resting fully against yours, pinning you to the floor. You could feel his boner pressed against your leg. His hand slid under the edge of your skirt making you shiver, his calloused fingers grazing the skin as they trailed up your leg.

“Someone might see us,” You whimper, glancing away from him and up and down the long, empty hallway you were in the middle of.

“You'd like that wouldn't you? Solid proof that you got to fuck me for real,” A moan slips out of your mouth just by his words alone. The feeling of his warm and heavy body pressing you to the cold, hard floor made you ache between your legs. His hand trails even further up your thigh reaching the band of your panties. His fingers slowly graze you through the fabric causing your hips to jerk.

“God you're already soaked princess, I can feel it through these little panties,” You bit your lip at the words he's whispering in your ear and the feeling of his fingers slowly rubbing you. His lips finally press against your neck making you let out a moan. He nips the skin gently, making sure to not leave any marks that would be visible. You moved your hands from the floor and placed them firmly against his chest, feeling his strong pecs through the thin fabric of his dress shirt. You feel him smile against your neck as your hands wonder curiously over his chest, memorizing everything you can, hoping it isn't just a dream.

“I'm all yours, baby,” He whispers in your ear again while his finger slips your panties to the side to feel you further. You quietly whine, gripping his shirt as he slides one of his fingers into you. James hungrily connects his lips to yours, getting lost in the taste of you. His tongue pushes into your mouth, feeling every inch of you it can as it dances with yours. His finger slowly move in and out of your gummy walls, the wetness between your legs gradually increasing. He pulls his finger out, pushing two in, causing you to moan louder against his lips. You turn your head to the side, making his sloppy kisses stop.

“James please,” You cry out, his pace was painfully slow, making you beg for more. You didn't have to say anything else before he pulled his dripping fingers out of you and got to work on his belt. He unbuckled it, his eyes never leaving yours as he did. You brought your hands up to your chest and unbuttoned your coffee stained shirt, exposing your breasts to him. Lucky for him you had forgotten to put a bra on with the rush of the morning. A groan slips from him as he watches you squeeze the soft flesh. He pushes his jeans down just enough for his cock to slip out, holding the thing like a trophy in his hands. He gives you a smirk as he watches you drool over his size. You wanted to curse him for being right, all those times you stared up at that poster, your legs spread, wishing it was his dick in you instead of your fingers. Now it was actually happening and you were too drunk on the taste of him to be nervous. He pushed your legs further apart and situated himself between them, his tip grazing your entrance.

“You ready for all your dirty little fantasies to come true,” He grins with a whisper, his face dangerously close to yours. He grips your hips tightly as he drives himself into your wet walls. You throw your head back, wanting to scream in pleasure but only a quiet moan escapes.

“Gonna have to be quiet unless you want an audience,” James grunts into your ear before biting the skin. He jerks his hips, the size of him stretching you more than you had ever been, almost splitting you in two. You clutch his shoulders tightly, trying to hold on as he starts pounding into you. His body had you pinned down, making it hard to move but you couldn't care less. You grab the collar of his shirt, quickly unbuttoning the top buttons as he continues to thrust into you. His necklace falls out of his shirt, dangling in your face. You grab the back of his neck and pull him closer, connecting your lips with his exposed collarbone. He gladly lets you puppet him, groaning as you suck on the sensitive skin. He removes one of his hands from your hips before placing it above your head, supporting himself as he pushes deeper into your walls. You bite down harder, muffling your whines against his skin. You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, your heels digging into the top of his ass.

“Mmmfuck.. Harder,” You moan, pulling him even closer. The cold metal from his necklace grazes against the exposed skin on your chest, making you shiver.

“I knew you'd be…fuck…dirty from the second I saw you,” He groans, pushing harder into you. His thrusts were deep enough you could feel him in your stomach. Everything in your body tingled, craving every bit of him.

“Thought you were being subtle, staring at me, but I knew this is what you wanted…wasn't it?” James leans down and kisses your breasts, biting your nipple harshly, making you squeal.

“Yeah…this is what..what I wanted,” James abruptly stops his movements and pulls out of you. You give him a puzzled look, having no time to react to him flipping you over with ease. He delivers a harsh smack against your ass, a moan slipping from your lips before he plunged himself into you again. Your hands grip at nothing against the floor as he pins your wrists together. His hips harshly smack against your ass, the sounds seeming to echo down the long empty hall. You weren't sure if you cared about anyone walking in on you anymore. He was right again, you'd like it if someone watched him fuck you like his life depended on it.

“Fucking hell,” He grits through his teeth. Your walls contract around him, drawing a groan from him. You could feel yourself getting close, the feeling of his thick cock, dragging against your tight walls at this angle was overwhelming. You didn't care if anyone heard your moans at this point, you were no longer holding back as his name spills from your mouth. Your sounds encourage him to push harder, his movements getting sloppy.

“I'm gonna cum,” You whine, the feeling washing over you, about to spill out. He grips you tighter, his cock twitching inside you.

“Yeah? Cum all over my cock, baby, do it,” His filthy words encourage you to let go. You swore it was the most intense orgasm you had ever had. You wanted to scream but nothing but a strangled whine came out. Your ears rang and your vision got blurry as you rode through your high, James hips still desperately snapping against your ass, chasing his own orgasm. His movements slowed as you felt his sticky cum coat your walls. He stayed inside you for a few seconds longer, pumping everything he could out of his cock before peeling himself out of you. Thick strands of his cum followed, getting on your legs and skirt, causing him to groan. He grabbed your panties that were only pushed to the side and snapped them back against your sensitive pussy, causing you to moan.

“They're probably looking for us,” James speaks, flipping you over onto your back. He keeps your legs wrapped around his waist, his eyes watching as his cum seeps out of you and soaks your panties.

“Mhmm.. probably,” You say quietly, your brain not able to think of much in your fucked out state. He grins at the sight of you, grabbing your arm and pulling a sharpie out of his pocket. He writes something on your arm before shoving the marker back into his pocket.

“Let's do this again sometime, yeah?” He leaves you with one last kiss, pinching your nipple, before shoving himself back into his pants and standing up, leaving you on the floor. You glance at your arm as he walks away, seeing his phone number sprawled across your forearm. You smile to yourself, wondering how the hell you got yourself into this situation, praying it wasn't just a dream.

✭-----------------------------✭

[mieudao]

death note characters as people in your orchestra

(ft. L, light, misa, matsuda, mikami)

L

(former) concertmaster (departed the ensemble suddenly and was never to be seen again)

impossibly good and no one can conceive it. plays with horrifying posture but has two dozen competitions under his belt. very lowkey about it too; you cannot tell until he starts playing and the rest is history

never writes anything down (makes light do it during their time as deskies); somehow predicts what the conductor’s going to want before they say it

^ for this reason never has pencils. don’t bother asking. he just looks at you like he’s wondering why you need to make markings at all

weirdly enough a very good leader despite the fact that he hunches over so much

also plays piano excruciatingly well — took it up before violin. yes the horrific posture persists

snacks during break times. if you look closely you can see him sucking on a piece of candy throughout rehearsal and replacing it when the conductor isn’t looking

overall: 8.8/10. feelings are hurt just a little bit in his presence but very solid all in all

light

associate concertmaster turned concertmaster (took over after L’s mysterious departure)

has the simultaneous ire and respect of all the other string players because he’s so impossibly flawless

as mentioned before made all the notations while sitting next to L. carries a burning hatred (“hatred”) for the man in part fuelled by how irritating he thought having to do so was

says he thinks that every other section is just as important as the first violins but you know he’s lying through his goddamn teeth

so disdainful of the violas. don’t even get him started on percussion

if you play a single thing wrong know that he’s cursing your very existence while you’re avoiding the conductor’s eyes

always brings a full pencil case in and is willing to lend you one with a smile (he thinks you’re an idiot for forgetting). exclusively uses fancy mechanical pencils

also plays piano (equally well)

i can’t find the post but someone said that he had a brief stint with the clarinet in junior high and absolutely sucked at it. that’s canon to me

^ this is why he’s particularly salty towards the clarinets

overall: 9/10. tbh he’s impeccable if you aren’t able to detect the meanness in his eyes. point deducted anyways for being a murderous bitch boy

misa

first clarinetist

life of the orchestra; a little on the chatty side but everyone loves her nonetheless (well… almost everyone)

forgets her pencil 50% of the time. the other 50% she shows up with a bedazzled light-up version of one of these:

erases very aggressively when she makes a mistake/has to redo a marking and all i can say is that it shows

has the funniest reactions. will absolutely pull a face when the conductor stops right before her entry (she was counting damn it!!)

^ i love her but she is a serial miscounter. comes in wrong so many times but no one has it in them to get really mad at her

doodles on her sheet music when she’s bored

100% has her phone on the music stand and is playing project sekai while the conductor grills the other sections

also in choir (absolutely kills at it. our soprano queen with a complex)

overall: 8/10. good player, better as a soloist, here for the vibes. chatterbox

matsuda

second violinist just trying to get by man…

major culprit of tapping his foot and being so focused on counting right that he doesn’t realise everyone in a ten mile radius can hear it

pretty good all in all though. has a genuine enthusiasm for the music and puts a lot of work in; just tends to fumble a bit in the heat of the moment

uses regular traditional pencils —  i feel like he’s an HB man. surprisingly quite good with remembering his; brings a few but generally only has one on hand at his stand

^ if you’re in need and are close enough he’s willing to toss it to you (gets excited when this happens + is unfortunately not subtle about it)

dreams of being randomly asked to play the solo, stunning everyone into silence, and then getting moved to front desk

overall: 8/10. great ensemble player but please learn to tap inside your shoe

mikami

principal cellist. the ‘p’ in ‘principal’ stands for ‘passionate’ because… wow

has a very dynamic style of playing. extremely funny since everyone else in the section is just sitting there normally and he’s nearly throwing himself out of his seat (bro it’s a downbow… it’s just a regular downbow…)

^ though he does have the most epic final flourish at the end of the piece i’ll give him that

flawless pencil etiquette. keeps his pencil case full of perfectly sharpened 2B pencils (with erasers) under his seat and will lend one to those he deems deserving

typically uses a .7 mechanical pencil for himself. his notations are flawless. sheet music is without a single crinkle too

willing to help/answer anyone’s questions abt the actual music as well

stares down anyone who isn’t playing up to par (fear him) and practices religiously

overall: 9.2/10. also flawless on the outside. minus .8 for being slightly terrifying and also the killings

this was fun lmao and only partially based on people i have encountered irl. might make a follow-up for the other characters too!!

edit: follow-up was made. part 2 (takada, aizawa, ryuk, rem, sayu, soichiro) here :)

[luvkyu]

and i ( zhang hao )

zhang hao x male reader

hao is slightly obsessed with another violinist

content : 1.7k words, fluff, violinist!hao x violinist!reader, music terms, v shy hao, mention of vom!t ( just used as exaggeration )

"make sure you go into a heavier crescendo here, okay? this is the biggest climax of the song."

zhang hao nodded sheepishly. it was hard to stay focused on his violin when his mentor was so attractive. especially while sitting right beside him.

"i think a little more vibrato here would be good too, but you can worry more about the actual notes for now if you like," y/n said with a soft smile as he pointed to the sheet music. he could tell hao was nervous, so he was trying his best to keep a light hearted atmosphere.

"it's okay, i can do the vibrato," hao assured.

y/n smiled and nodded. he liked how determined hao was.

"alright, let's run through it one more time and then we'll be done for the day," y/n said.

hao raised his violin back up, straight posture and impeccable bow hold. y/n smiled in approval before doing the same, the sounds of their strings soon filling the practice room.

hao was a second year in their performing arts college. y/n was a fourth year and a first chair violinist in the school's competitive chamber orchestra. the pair had met during hao's first year, but never exchanged more than a few words.

y/n spent a lot of his time helping struggling first and second years with adjusting to their harder music pieces, so when hao spoke up, y/n was happy to help. now they met about three times a week to practice, and hao just received new sheet music that was a complete eyesore.

"good, that was really good," y/n praised happily. "how're you feeling with this piece so far?"

"it's fun, it's just a lot.." hao replied while loosening his bow. y/n nodded.

"yeah, i know. at least we got through the whole first page today! we'll work on the second one next time."

hao nodded as he began putting his things away. y/n gazed at him for a second, admiring how soft his personality seemed.

"y'know, you're a really good violinist, hao."

hao looked up at him with wide eyes. y/n was standing up now, violin hanging from his fingers and a gentle smile resting on his lips. hao could feel his cheeks turning red.

"..thank you. i really like playing, so that means a lot."

y/n nodded in return. "are you gonna try out for the chamber orchestra next year? they let some third years in."

hao thought about it for a moment. he carefully closed his violin case and latched the locks.

"mm.. i'm not sure."

"well," y/n began, "i think you should. if you want to, of course."

hao blushed and nodded in response. he wasn't really sure how to talk to y/n. not when he had the biggest crush on him known to mankind. he could feel y/n's eyes still on him, and for just a second, he wondered if y/n possibly liked him back.

"anyway, i'll see you back here monday?" y/n asked brightly. hao nodded, trying to give his best smile.

y/n hung his violin case over his shoulder and gathered his sheet music before waving goodbye. hao followed his exit, beginning to walk the opposite way to his dorm.

after finally getting back home, zhang hao threw his bags aside with a sigh. he gave more care to his violin case, setting it down gently. taerae stood in the small corner kitchen with a bowl of food in his hands.

"hey, hao. you good?"

"mm," hao mumbled. he went into the kitchen with the other and took a water from their fridge.

"y/n again?" taerae asked with a small chuckle.

hao nodded, "i'm so into him. i hate it."

"i don't know why you won't just ask him out."

hao shrugged. taerae set his bowl down as he gazed at his roommate. hao was so down bad, and taerae hated that he refused to do anything about it. he rolled his eyes and lightly slapped his hand on the counter.

"alright," taerae declared, "you're coming with me tonight. i'm going to his concert to write a review piece for the school paper, so i can get you a ticket too."

"there's a concert tonight??" hao asked with wide eyes.

"yeah, with the chamber orchestra. how did you not know that?"

"i have no idea. i guess i've been too preoccupied."

"sure, preoccupied with y/n."

"..shut up."

zhang hao was shivering. not because it was cold, but because he was nervous. more nervous than he'd ever been, even on his first day of college. he had a small bouquet of flowers in one hand, and his phone in the other with a deathly tight grip. he stood frozen for a moment as he stared at the large theater in front of him.

"hey, relax," taerae's voice cut through his anxiety, "it'll be okay."

hao nodded, trying to let a smile curve on his lips. he could barely see y/n on the stage, as he and taerae were still by the entrance. the orchestra was tuning and warming up, but he could make out y/n's styled hair and pretty smile from far away. he seemed to be talking to the violinist beside him about the sheet music. hao felt his heart swell. seeing y/n in his formal concert attire was almost too much for him.

"c'mon, let's get to our seats," taerae said eagerly. hao nodded again and followed his friend to a pair of seats that were much closer to the stage than he thought.

"oh, he's right in front!" taerae exclaimed quietly, pointing to y/n.

"mhm, he's first chair."

taerae looked over at hao as he looked at y/n.

"taerae?"

"hm?"

"he looks so good i'm gonna throw up," hao muttered. taerae rolled his eyes with a small snicker.

zhang hao took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. he laid the flowers in his lap before rubbing his palms together.

"wait, i think he sees us!" taerae enthused.

hao's head shot back up to find his crush's eyes resting on him. a smile quickly sprouted on y/n's face, keeping his gaze set on hao.

"oh, i hate him.. why is he staring at me like that.."

"cause he likes you, dumb fuck."

hao looked over at taerae with wide eyes before going back to y/n.

"maybe he's just surprised to see me. he didn't know i was coming so.."

taerae rolled his eyes. he watched hao muster up the courage to wave at y/n, the male sending a tiny wave back with his violin bow.

the lights soon died down as the audience began clapping and the conductor made his way out to join the orchestra. hao loved watching y/n become all serious as he lifted his violin to his chin in sync with the others.

throughout the pieces of music, taerae took notes for the school paper, while hao simply sat in awe. he'd seen them perform before, but it was like a new experience every time. the group was so professional and well put together. hao hoped he could be at such a level soon.

by the time it was over, zhang hao was even more of a nervous wreck. he waited with taerae by their seats, pretending to talk until y/n made his way over to them. he was currently traveling through the theater to talk with different people. hao assumed he was thanking people for coming and receiving congratulatory words in return - the usual etiquette that hao found quite tiresome if he was honest.

"hey guys," hao felt his heart quicken as he recognized y/n's voice, "thanks for coming. i didn't expect to see you, but i'm happy you're here."

taerae could tell that was directed more at zhang hao, but he didn't mind a bit. he and y/n were more like acquaintances than friends anyways.

"of course! you guys did really great. the review in the paper will be nothing but good things, i promise," taerae assured.

"thank you, i'm really glad you liked it!"

taerae smiled before turning to hao, "i'm gonna go wait in the car, okay?"

hao nodded in response. he could feel a chill run down his spine as he now faced y/n alone. he felt like melting on the spot. seeing y/n up close in his suit and tie made him feel weak.

"i've never seen you so dressed up. you look really amazing," y/n complimented, as if reading hao's mind.

"thank you," hao blushed, "you do too. i like your suit a lot."

y/n smiled and looked down at the clean black fabric.

"yeah? i always feel kinda weird when i dress up this nicely, but i'm glad someone else enjoys it."

hao nodded. oh, how he really did enjoy it.

"ah- these are for you," hao spoke up as he reached to the seat behind him where he'd left the flowers. y/n's jaw fell open just a bit, blushing a little himself now.

"really? you got me flowers?"

hao smiled and nodded. "you deserve them. i knew you'd be great tonight."

y/n couldn't help but chuckle at how cute the other was. he took the bouquet happily, looking at the flowers before turning his attention back to zhang hao.

"hey, are you doing anything else tonight?" y/n asked. hao's heart picked up once again. he shook his head while trying to hide his growing smile.

"then can i take you to dinner?"

hao almost couldn't believe it.

"really? you mean now?"

y/n nodded confidently, "we're already dressed up, i'm hungry, and i have the prettiest boy in the room to come with me. it's perfect."

hao looked down at his shoes, his smile too much for himself now.

"sure, i'd love to. let me just tell taerae?"

y/n nodded again, "of course. let's go." he offered his hand out, which hao took a bit shyly before he was led out of the theater.

[snixkers]

Profokiev No. 1

Pairing: Dad!Spencer Reid × Mom!Reader

Fluff

For: @lucreziaq2001

Content Warnings: Slight argument? It's not even an argument, Reader reminds him of something lol

Summary: You direct Spencer as he records your daughter's concert.

Author's Note: Ugh, this is so cute. I'm obsessed with the name Jenna for some reason.

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN!

You and your husband sat front row at the concert, phones at the ready. He had momentarily forgotten his technophobia, eager to capture this moment to show your daughter in the future.

You often envied his eidetic memory for allowing him to remember all these little moments with perfect detail.

Jenna waved at the two of you as she walked on stage, following out the rest of her school orchestra. She settled in with the string section, picking up her cello and glancing at the sheet music. Spencer leaned forward in his seat, zooming in with the camera.

“Make sure you get everyone in it.”

You whispered, moving him back.

He sighed, keeping his voice low enough so it wouldn’t be picked up on the recording.

“But she’s so much more talented. And adorable.”

You poked his shoulder, but you weren’t able to hide the grin that spread over your face.

“Don’t say that here.”

He glanced over at you, keeping the camera trained on the pit as they started to warm up.

“Well, it’s true.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning on his shoulder and waiting for them to start. His arm snaked around yours, pulling you closer to him. You watched contentedly as the conductor stepped up, remembering the last time you were at a concert.

It was your first anniversary with Spencer, and he wanted to do something fancy with you. Since his job caused him to be away unexpectedly, none of your previous dates had involved reservations. But it was getting serious, and he wanted to impress you. So he took work off for the weekend and showed up with tickets to a Beethoven symphonic.

But as the lights dimmed and you watched your daughter start to play Profokiev’s string quartet No. 1, you knew exactly which concert you preferred.

"Spencer, I said get the whole orchestra."

He grinned sheepishly, zooming out once again.

[smellyboy-32]

Timpanist!Kaz who, despite taking a little bit longer than others to tune the timpani, is one of the most skilled players.

Timpanist!Kaz who spends a ridiculous amount of time choosing the perfect pair of mallets for every piece.

Timpanist!Kaz whos eyes keep finding the principal cellist....

Cellist!Inej whos fingers practically dance on the fret board of her cello.

Cellist!Inej who is constantly breaking her bow strings from how passionately she plays

Cellist!Inej who has to ignore the broody timpanist to not get distracted.

Trombonist!Jesper who is well known for how fast he can play.

Trombonist!Jesper who can become proficient in any brass instrument in under 30 minutes.

Trombonist!Jesper who always finds himself hanging out in the wind section

Flautist!Wylan who always comes in on time

Flautist!Wylan who fills his sheet music with doodles instead of writing in notes

Flautist!Wylan who always finds himself with the brass players

Horn player!Nina whos case is covered in stickers

Horn player!Nina who is friends with everyone in the orchestra

Horn play!Nina who might be something more with the bass player

Bassist!Mattias who is always gets his dynamics perfect

Bassist!Mattias who hoards rosin

Bassist!Mattias who isn't quite sure what he and the horn player are but is too scared to ask

[missfrustration]

a captain's gaze (luffy x reader)

rating: general audiences!

tags: one shot, fluff, feel good, platonic, talk of loss and grief, post-marineford, marineford spoiler, songfic (no lyrics in the story tho), singing, no use of y/n

A/n: inspired by song plastic by moses sumney that reader sings in this fic. just a small idea i had in my head with luffy comforting reader with loss a few months ago, posted on ao3 here!

word count: 2.4k

You draw a breath into the bottom of your stomach, making your way toward the stage curtains. Dancers sashay off the stage from both sides of you. You peek between the heavy velvet curtains to see the orchestra rummaging through their sheet music, preparing for your performance. You squint at the harsh lights illuminating the stage, barely adjusting your eyes to survey the crowd. 

“You ready?” The backstage director calls to you. “You’re shaking like a leaf!”

“As ready as I can be,” you respond, brushing the stage curtains back. “This is the most important performance of my life.”

“It’s more than important. It’s for our kingdom’s heroes, the Strawhat Pirates! Either way, you always shine on stage. The royal family wouldn’t have picked you as their main entertainment if they weren’t confident in you.” Looking at the top of your head, she says, “By the way, your hair looks as stunning as always. Shake a leg!” 

Before you can answer, she gives you a thumbs-up and whisks away to help one of the offstage dancers. 

You sigh, darting your hand to your hair comb for support. You wear your treasured silver hair comb on special nights like these. Your late friend gifted it to you on your sixteenth birthday; since then, you’ve chosen to wear it to special occasions. You wish she was still alive to see this look: your gaudy gown paired with the comb is a match made in heaven.

“Last but not least is the main event of the night. Here is the kingdom’s lead performer with a ballad of her choosing!” The announcer conveys. He confidently calls your name to the night’s audience. 

It was your time. 

You hear the first beat of the string orchestra as the backstage director gives you the cue. You gallantly take your first steps as you walk up to the mic. You meet hundreds of eyes beating down on you, seeing your body glimmer under the stage lights.

That’s when you spot them: the fearless Strawhat Pirates. Your first time seeing them up close is alluring, even after witnessing their fight from the palace walls while it was under lockdown. Your eyes are mesmerized by them once again, taking in the faces and bodies that pay no mind to your grand entrance. From what people backstage described, the captain, Luffy, is the boy seated in the middle with a sunny smile and straw hat. You see him holding on to a piece of meat, eating to his heart's content, and laughing at something one of his crewmates said. You beam brightly, glad that they seem to be enjoying themselves. 

The string orchestra’s solo ends as you level the mic to your height with jittered fingers. When you start with the first verse, the orchestra holds a caesura, indirectly hushing the crowd.

You gently coax the song's beginning, pulling it through like it threads directly from your soul. The lyrics you knew by heart, the ones you couldn’t help but soothe out in earnest to the crowd.

You have the Strawhats' full attention now. Their warmth glows out as you meet all their eyes. You stop your wandering gaze on a particular face, the captain’s . He locks eyes with you with a mouth agape, now placing down the food he once devoured. You continue to the second verse, flawlessly executing vocal runs that showcase your voice range. Just when you worry that his aback expression comes from displeasure…

Luffy gives you a toothy smile. 

Your heart swells. Usually, featured guests at palace banquets either talk, drink, or not even acknowledge a performance. Yet, this palace's most critical guest has his eyes on you.

Luffy… You turn your attention and sing the hook to him. 

You infuse your honeyed voice with passion, singing the lyrics you were born to know. The hook propels you to a high falsetto that cascades down a sultry run. The pitch of your voice sounds like a bird soaring in the sky, landing gracefully on a plain of lush gardens.

For a moment, the string orchestra stops for another caesura, ready for you to start the outro. You begin the outro, prepared to tell him the end. You seduce your sound into the repeated outro lines, over and over again, until your voice slowly trails off into the limelight.

The kingdom’s people roar in applause, with some standing up from their seats. You curtsy gracefully on the stage in appreciation, yet your eyes hold contact with the crew's captain. 

Now, you are sharing a tiny, intimate moment made for no one but you two: a moment of mutual respect. Luffy reciprocates that warmness, ignoring his crewmate's chatter to look at you. As your eyes remained locked, the moment became something more.

You then smile back at him—a genuine, authentic smile of happiness. With your eyes, it says thank you .

Your performance has now officially ended. Reluctantly, you break eye contact with him, take a bow, and slowly walk back offstage. 

—

The clock strikes midnight when you walk out backstage. Your feet hurt from the heels you’ve been wearing, and you are ready to go home. 

As you walk down the tall corridors of the palace, you hear the distant murmur of the end party. You bet everybody has started to come down from the alcohol and excitement they had from the beginning. Most are ready to call it a night, which is precisely what you’re pleased–and worried –about.

You wanted to greet and thank the Strawhats but figured they had left by now. Even if they were still here, you feel they’ve heard thanks from so many people that they must get tired of hearing it. 

You keep walking, your shoes making airy clacks that echo down the hall. 

“Hey, it’s you!” A voice down the hall calls out.

You look forward and see a figure of a boy walking toward you. Hands crossed behind his head, the boy kicks his feet up in the air as he walks. 

It’s him. 

“Oh, hello!” You shout. “You are…”

“Monkey D. Luffy. Nice to meet ya!” He beamed at you.

You greet him and introduce yourself with a giggle. “I know your name already. You’re the center of attention for the whole kingdom. It’s an honor to have you at our banquet.”

“Thanks! You sure know how to throw a party here. Ah, the food is so good. Especially the meat!”

You tilt your head down to the floor, fiddling with the cloth on your dress to hide the flattery that’s crept into your face.

“I wanted to look around the place after I ate. You sang great. But that song,” Luffy trailed off.

“The song?” You lift your head to meet his eyes, now shifted to a blunt edge.

“I know that feeling you sang about. I know it was about you. Don’t doubt yourself so much.” His smile is faint, while his words hold strong. 

The lyrics. Luffy paid attention to the lyrics and the meaning of your delicate voice. It was a song about self-reflection. A song about your self-doubt…

A song about you: and he knows .

“Yeah, I guess you're right, Luffy. Thanks.”

You turn away, facing the wall of the large corridor, staring off into the marble. It’s as if you were searching for an answer hiding between the tiles. Words leave your lips before you can stop them.

“It’s just that… I lost someone close to me recently. She was like a sister, and I haven’t felt the same since then.” Your eyes widen, and you stop yourself, quickly realizing this isn’t the right time and place for this discussion. You dart your eyes everywhere but his face as you recognize the lingering silence of Luffy’s voice.

“Um, I just wanted to thank you. Being our heroes, ending a war that has lasted for months , means a lot to us–to me . I wish I could repay your kindness.”

Before you even finished, you saw Luffy's expression of annoyance. Shit. You ruined the moment, didn’t you? Especially in front of the one you look up to most. 

“I’m sorry, I said–that was too much to say. As our hero, you shouldn’t feel inclined to listen–”

“We aren’t heroes.”

You look up at him, expecting an upset or irritated gaze to stare back again, but Luffy gives you a warm smile.

“We’re pirates. We helped you, yes, but we’re not heroes.”

“Oh. Right. I apologize for that.” You teeter on the edge of shame and embarrassment. Based on your mistakes, leaving would be the best course of action. The air lingers in silence, a second too long for you to bear.

“Well, then. Excuse me.”

You reluctantly turn away, beginning a walk that you already regret. Though you must, after all, you told Luffy things that were inappropriate for the time.

I will be okay watching from the sidelines.

“I know what you mean,” Luffy says.

“What was that?” You turn around. 

“I had that too. My brother.” Luffy looks at you intently. He didn’t have to elaborate anymore for you to understand what he meant. You saw it in his eyes, the glimmer of sadness that shone so quickly, yet it was all the more potent.

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that, Luffy,” you walk to him somberly, the taps of your shoes clacking on the quiet hall floor. “I understand your pain. I don’t know what happened, but know it wasn’t your fault.”

Luffy blinks, processing the words you spoke to him. He looks at the wall and brings his forehead to rub the skin before responding.

“You’re right. Yeah.” 

Luffy gives you another smile, which immediately mirrors on your face. The radiance you feel from him makes his presence feel like the sun to you, so warm and glowy that it feels like you’re floating. 

His eyes travel from yours to your hair, to the top of your head. You can only describe the look on his face as interesting.

“Hey, what’s that?” Luffy asks, pointing to your hair. 

“Oh, this?” You point to your comb, and he nods. “This is a hair comb my late friend gave me. I like to wear it on special days like this.”

Luffy looks captivated, almost hypnotized, reaching out to you to touch the comb. It causes your face to heat up.

“Would you like to see it?” 

He nods gently. Before you can help him, he clasps his hand around the comb and pulls it towards him. The comb releases its grip on your high bun, hair loosening up and cascading down your shoulders. 

His face painted waves of serenity. His eyes study the details before fingers meticulously rub over each forge—the comb glimmers in the hall light, reflecting on Luffy’s delicate skin. He rocks it back and forth when he sees the shiny metal rays. They dance upon the hall walls and the tips of your hair and fingers.

“It looks like,” With both hands, Luffy brings the comb to his face to look at it closer. You can see something in his demeanor change. A friendly smile shone on his face, but it was different than the faces you’d seen on him before. Now, Luffy adorns melancholy.

Luffy seemed drawn to the centerpiece of the comb, a long-petaled flower made of plum-red jewels amid an explosion of silver leaf decorum. He thumbs each petal, surprisingly hypnotized by something so delicate.

“You look like a child.” You giggle out loud, seeing him finally snap out of his hypnotism when you speak.

He looks at you, suddenly freezing and letting his face fall. He stares at you, studying all your facial features as though he’s reading a book. 

He looked at your long black hair, freckled face, and soft features that could only look back at him. 

“You… look like him.”

“Like who?”

He reaches out to touch your hair, and you let him. He takes a tuff that almost reaches your shoulder and runs it through his fingers.

“Ace.”

“Your brother?”

Luffy nods, stepping into your personal space to look at you. You don’t think he realizes how close he is, but you feel so balmy as your eyes unwaver. 

He lifts a finger to your cheek, presses it to your face, and pulls away to show you a tear. He peers at it with innocence, 

You blink, suddenly feeling tears stream down your face.

“I’m crying?” you say, touching your face to discover more tear stains. “I didn’t even know I was, that I–” 

“Sorry,” Luffy muttered. 

He had a childlike pout that reminded you of the kids who like to run around the palace corridors in the daytime. When you told them to walk instead of run, they were hard-wired to cross their arms and pout. 

He backs away, but you grab his arm. Even if he was a pirate who could easily overpower you and put you in your place, you couldn’t let him distance himself.

“Don’t be sorry, Luffy,” you say, wiping your tears away. “It’s hard to talk about it sometimes, but I think it’s important. It helps you take things one step at a time. Even when you don’t know me, I feel so much support. Thank you.”

You bring him in for a hug, one he slowly reciprocates, squeezing back so gently that it almost chokes you up. Maybe it’s the bond you share in the loss of your family–the grief felt every day, the sadness, the raw regret–that makes this hug so powerful. At that moment, you feel Luffy’s spirit lift and your worries melt away. You know he needs this as much as you. 

When you two unravel from the hug, he looks at the comb clutched in his palm and grins wildly.

“Hey, you should meet my crew!” Luffy says, “They’ll like a new nakama.”

“That sounds… you think I should?”

Before you can object, Luffy turns to the faraway noises of the banquet and guides you to follow with a gentle push of your back.

“Come on, come on!”

You look at him earnestly, seeing the sunshine you’ve missed all these years. 

Just like your friend, you feel her smile in him and can’t help but walk towards it.

“Thank you, Luffy.”

----------

ao3 | tiktok | kofi | masterlist

[automaticfrenchhorn]

Today's study focuses on some complex tuplet rhythms. I hadn't seen much reason to write like this in the past, since I believed they add complexity for the performers, but not to the audience. So, I figured there was little reason to do it if other, more readable rhythms could provide a nearly identical experience to the listener.

However, after a discussion with my friend Kat Farn, I came to realize that the struggle of reading these rhythms creates a musical effect of its own. In a large ensemble setting, having the entire orchestra actually play these correctly is a fool's errand, and so these rhythms become a way to add an intentional layer of imprecision. The struggle of the players tangebly affects how they play, and the cacophony of rhythmic near-misses can create the sound of the texture falling apart, which is precisely the idea I aimed to convey today.

The harmony of this study comes mostly from the harmonic series on Ab, leading to the emphasis on the 11th harmonic, between D and D flat, and later the 13th, with F half-flat. The only exception is the 7th harmonic. In the 24-EDO space I was working in, there isn't a great approximation for it (like there is for the 11th and 13th) so instead I opted to use G half-flat, to create a perfect fifth with the 11th harmonic. This adds a slight imperfection to the harmonic design, making it go from a perfectly balanced harmonic chord to an unusual sonority of intervals uncommon to the ear of anyone accostomed to 12-EDO music.

I chose this inital chord since I wanted that immense, resonant sound that only the harmonic series can provide. I then continued using it, since its resonance becomes a stark contrast to the messy and unpredictable rhythms, especially as the resonance leaves once the basses move to G half-flat and beyond. I find the effect created by this contrast to be quite striking, and definitely something I want to explore again.

As always, these pieces are welcome for anyone and everyone to play! All I ask is that you share it with me, because I'd love to hear it done by live players!

[angelicenjolras]

OK, FINALLY I GOT AROUND TO FINISHING THIS

LES AMIS + OTHERS IN THE HIGH SCHOOL CONCERT BAND AU

My qualification for this is that I've been playing flute in concert Band for 5 years, and been in the top band for 4 years, im extremely qualified/hj

Enjolras: 2nd chair flutist. He's been playing flute since middle school and joined the top band freshman year. Jehan and him often go to each other houses to practice with each other. He gets really bad anxiety on concert day. Also did chorus, but only for a year before quitting. Incredibly good at playing by ear

Combeferre: the only Bassoonist in the band. Started playing bassoon freshman year and joined the top band sophomore year. He would also love to play viola, but he has too much on his schedule. Stays after school to practice, often with Courfeyrac and/or Enjolras. hears the "bassoon in German" jokes way too many times and is sick of it.

Courfeyrac: 1st chair trumpet and also the section leader in marching band. He started playing trumpet when he was really young and joined the top band freshman year. Him, Bossuet, and Bahorel stay after school a lot for brass sectional practices. Every time the band plays Sleigh Ride, he wears a silly horse mask when doing the horse whinny (like what this dude did)

Jean Prouvaire: first chair flutist. Started playing flute really young but only joined band their last year in middle school and joined the top band freshman year. Once stayed overnight at Enjolras' house to help him get down certain parts in Satirical Dances (that song is a nightmare). Puts a little Santa hat on their flute every winter concert (i recommend everyone to do this it's very funny and makes your instrument look very cute). Incredible at playing by ear

Bossuet: Tuba player that doubles on Trombone often. Started playing freshman year and joined the top band sophomore year. Did marching band for a bit but quit very early on. He messed up on his trombone solo once during MPA, and it haunts him since. Instrument gets so out of tune so often it's insane. He loves listening to music and just playing along with it, even if he doesn't know the notes

Joly: plays 3rd clarinet. They played a bit in elementary school and picked it up again freshmen year because Bossuet was joining the band, then joined the top band sophomore year. They're not the greatest clarinet players, but they're having a lot of fun, and that's all that matters. They love to look for sheet music of video game music they likes. They use the schools clarinet, so they clean it excessively before and after they use it. Sucks at playing by ear

(Just adding here, Musichette isn't in the band but in the string orchestra, and she plays cello!)

Feuilly: plays tenor sax. Started playing in the first year of middle school and joined the top band sophomore year. He plays tenor sax in the jazz band. Deep love for soul music and listen to a lot of older jazz. Him and Enjolras did a duet for solo and ensemble once. He would love to learn bass one day.

Bahorel: percussion. Started band freshman year. Really liked the idea of banging on shit and making a nice rhythm. Often, he gets in trouble for playing way too loud, but other than at hes pretty good at most percussion instruments....besides the triangle, somehow. He always wanted to play french horn when he was a kid.

Grantaire: honestly i was stuck figuring out what to make him play, then @ghost4tets mentioned on one of my post how they could see Grantaire playing oboe and thats actually so perfect, I can totally see that, especially because back in my middle school top band one of the oboist did not care about the band at all, and I think that's Grantaire in a way. He would join junior year, and no one has any idea how he even got in the band because he clearly never practices, which was odd to them bc he clearly seem to like music (gose on hours long rants about classical music). The main reason he joined is because he once heard Enjolras playing and thought it was the most beautiful thing he ever heard, and he wanted to hear more of it. Genuinely loves the people in the band, and the band likes him enough to keep him around (even though he's clearly not practicing at all)

Marius: 1st chair Oboist, played oboe a bit when he was younger and joined the top band junior year because courfeyrac told him it was a great way to meet others and a nice hobby to get into (plus the conductor was looking for a oboist who would actually learn and play the music). He has a huge crush on a certain violinist in the sting orchestra. Courfeyrac and him practice a lot after school.

Cosette: violinist in the string orchestra, started to play violin first year of middle school and joined the orchestra freshman year(there is no top string orchestra because there's only a mixed orchestra in the school) became really close friends with Musichette. Her and Enjolras (bc they will forever be twins in almost every au i make) love picking out songs they know and playing together. Very good at playing by ear. Has a crush on a certain oboist in the top band.

Eponine: isn't actually in the band but visits the band room almost every day after school, mostly to talk to Marius. Taught herself how to play piano and loves to play on it whenever she visits the band room. Even though she isn't actually a band member, the band still treats her like she is a part of it and loves her dearly

Ok I think thats it for now

[valkierrie]

𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲

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Warning(s): Swearing.

Plot: Y/N, a violinist, falls for Noel, who's her mate. Their feelings come to a head after one of her auditions.

Word count: 1.7K.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sat in my chair, surrounded by other instruments as well as musicians. My violin settled on my shoulder, my fingers in position as the conductor lifted his baton into the air. My eyes read the first few measures, engraving the notes in my mind before my eyes fell back on the conductor, awaiting his signal for the downbeat.

Upon the first stroke of the thin stick, sound ruptured throughout the orchestra. I got through the bars, playing each dynamic with the intensity required as written. The notes left the wood of my instrument precisely and with accuracy. I felt entranced within the isolated movement, each note sparking low levels of ecstasy in my chest. 

Music had that effect on myself, since I was little. It was one of those unexplainable bits of life—when something had the ability to bring you the kind joy other people just couldn’t bring to you.

I played well until we reached the Allegro section of the piece—a section that not only tortured musicians via time signature, by switching to Alla Breve time, also known as the hell that is…Cut time; but also changing the key to E Major Flat, four fucking flats.

I groaned internally, dreading the inevitable feeling of embarrassment when I would hit the wrong note. 

Luckily, I didn’t have to wait too long. Four bars into the measure, and I had missed a written accidental. I wasn’t one, but still. 

The conductor made a stop motion, effectively cutting off the ensemble.

He released a heavy sigh, dragging his hand through his greying hair. All of his years of conducting and going to school and playing with prestigious orchestras just to lead him here. Disappointment.

“Please, check your key signatures.” He said it using the kind of tone that made you feel like the daftest person in the world. I could tell that he was fighting the urge to add a C’mon, mates, you aren’t in year nine, this stuff isn’t rocket science.

I knew that I wasn’t the only to have messed up, but still, that felt very much targeted at me.

And, of course, it had to be right around chair auditions. I was grateful that we were allowed to run through the piece, but also riddled with nerves over how difficult this was going to be if I wanted to earn that first chair position.

—

Noel sat on the opposite seat from me, a small circular and wooden table acted as a barricade between us. He gulped down his second pint, already waiving the bartender for another cold one. My own remained untouched before me, my focus was entirely stolen by the large booklet–like paper, the score of Lincolnshire Posey, I’d been flipping through for the last hour. I’d only look up briefly responding with a simple nod and a “Uh huh,” of affirmation.

When he had finally gotten sick of it, he’d switched from tapping at the edge of the table like he was waiting for the guitar to magically fall on his lap, to snatching the paper from my hands looking over it. 

“Hey!” I exclaimed.

Noel ignored me, moving away slightly when I tried to reach for the score back. “What’s this, then?” He inquired.

“It’s sheet music.” I reached for it again. “Now give it back.”

Noel held it even further. “Crazy shite, this.”

I placed the paper down on the table when I had finally managed to gain a grasp on it. “I’m not sure who he thinks we are—who he thinks I am.” I expressed in exasperation. “I’m not even first chair and this is giving me a headache.”

“Who are you talking about?” Noel asked, pulling my drink towards himself and taking a sip.

“My director.” I answered. “He gave us a song that’s clearly written for a concert band—”

“Concert band?”

“It’s an orchestra but without strings. All instruments are wind, except for percussion. You do know what that is right?” I teased. 

Noel’s eyes narrowed. “I know what it is.”

“Just making sure,” I laughed, pulling the drink back towards me and taking a sip. “Right, like I was saying. The song’s transposition is just so wrong, and he expects us to learn this by the end of the week, on top of chair audition with another piece.”

“Don’t know I can help you with that.” Noel stated, leaning back against his seat. “Why do you do it? The whole orchestra thing sounds like hell.”

“Because, Noel,” I gave him a look. “I love playing the violin and one day I wanna play in one of them big theatres, y’know?”

Noel shrugged. “You gonna play in one of them posh theatres?”

“Sure.” I rolled my eyes. “By learning how to play these pieces and getting first chair, that’ll happen sooner.”

“It’s like you and a guitar. You get it now?”

“A little bit,” he grinned.

God, he was a charmer and he didn’t even know it. It was in the way his face could scrunch up and turn into the damn softest thing, despite his constant denial. When I saw his face, there wasn’t anything I wanted to change, even if he felt the contrary, especially in comparison to Liam. 

I promised myself that I would come clean about my feelings for him when the time was right, but every moment with him felt right. The only heaven I’d be sent to was when I was with him. 

“So this is important to you, then?”

“More than anything.”

“Jesus, alright, try not to get all teary-eyed. I’ll help, yeah?” Noel said it as if the offer caused him some kind of pain or cost him something, but the spark I saw in his eye him away.

“You?” I cocked a brow.

“Yes, me.” He scoffed. “You’re lucky I’m offerin’, this kind of help doesn’t come around often.”

“Right.” I rolled my eyes, “Christ, Your ego’s massive. God’s fuckin’ gift to the world.”

“Exactly,” Noel smirked. “And if it gets ya to stop sulkin’ like a tosser, I’ll do it.”

Which in Noel’s love language was basically an act of camaraderie.

That made me smile.

Days passed and Noel made good on his word. He wasn’t efficient—he couldn’t read sheet music—however, the implementation of his guitar was a great help. I don’t know why, maybe it was because they were classified in the same instrumental family. It didn’t matter to me, I wasn’t about to question my luck. 

Chair audition day had arrived and as we stood outside of the auditorium, my hands would stop shaking, as if I suffered from Essential Tremor. 

Noel stood beside me, putting his originally lit cigarette with the bottom of his trainers. There was a slight annoyed expression on his face after I told him that he couldn’t smoke inside the building. 

Honestly, I needed that smoke more than him at that moment.

“Christ, yer shakin’.”

“Nerves.” I responded.

Noel muttered something under his breath, looking down at the ground. Before we could enter the building, some girl bursted out of the doors in tears, clutching her instrument case. I recognised her—one of the low brasses, though I couldn’t quite remember what she played—and from what I could see, her audition hadn’t gone well. 

“Hey. Hey, none of that,” Noel seemed to notice the fear that instilled in me. “She was probably just bad, doesn’t mean you will be.”

“Yeah, maybe.” My body grew tense and I felt like ditching all together, but knew what consequence that would bring—immediate demotion to last chair.

“Look,” Noel placed both hands on my shoulders. His blue eyes were staring directly at my eyes with intensity and honesty. “You are one of the most talented people I know. You’re bloody good, alright? Even I can see that—and I barely knew what the hell you’re playin’.”

I looked at him, gaging for any sign of deception from him, there was nothing but sincerity. His thick brow twitched, he’d wanted to add something, maybe a joke of something else, but he held back.

I nodded, taking a deep breath. 

Noel opened the door, allowing me to enter first before he did the same.

With a deep breath, I took the stage, immediately greeted by the stone cold face of my conductor. He sat behind a small table below the stage, papers scattered all around its surface. I shivered, slowly approaching the edge of the stage so he could have a better look. Noel had found a seat towards the back of the nearly empty auditorium, adjusting his posture to see better. 

Adjusting my stand and getting into position, with another deep breath, I played the tune. My fingers danced on the cold strings, a jolly tune—a disparity against what I was feeling inside. Joy and anxiety clashed against one another, causing a narrative-like conflict internally. While I was feeling like I didn’t want to be here and fighting the urge to jump off the stage, at the same time I felt like throwing up, I was reminded why I loved playing the violin so much. I felt like I was transported to another dimension. 

The change hadn’t even phased me this time around and when I hit the final note, I felt powerful. 

I met Noel outside of the building straight after, engulfing him in a tight hug. 

“Reckon, it went well.” Noel chuckled. 

“Did you hear me?” I grinned. “I was amazing.”

“Who’s ego’s massive now.” He laughed, earning a hit on the arm. “No, but seriously, you were great up there.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you here.”

“You would've been fine without me—not perfect, but good enough, I suppose.”

I rolled my eyes, pulling away, but still remaining close. I looked at him, really looked at him. I couldn’t help myself. 

I moved closer and our lips touched.

Noel moved away, clearly caught off guard. My stomach dropped, I had kissed him and he looked astonished. Like I had poured cold water on his or slapped him

That was it, I ruined everything.

I opened my mouth and before I could utter an apology, Noel pulled me back in and kissed me back, he moved slowly against my lips as his hands found their use resting on my waist. His lips moved against mine with passion and fervour. I might have felt ecstatic when I played the violin, but this moment couldn’t compare at all, it was paradise. When we pulled away, our faces stayed close. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” I muttered.

“Can’t say I blame you.” He smirked.