#i say as a saxophone player

[sneeb-canons]

Headcanon #57: Heart is the only one that knows how to play a wind instrument, that being the Alto Saxophone. (since an actual saxophone is only ever used in The Heart Acoustic)

[jojo-schmo]

What if I wanted to break out my tenor sax and play in the Kirby 30th Anniversary Music Fest, too!?

Plus, the outfits the Kirby crew wear are PEAK, look at them!!

[raviniaraven]

Just binged all of Puppet History and my first takeaway is that it's a shame the world never got the SaxoCannon

[biscoffbee]

$5 says he takes that sax with him everywhere they go today and drives everyone insane with it

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

okay okay okay so in trying to come up with a headcanon for what instrument Pete would play if he needed to (clarinet) I've come to a very important youngest-sibling-of-poor-parents conclusion:

it isn't what instrument peter would want to learn to play (listen, I know it's clarinet, but in a world where it isn't) because those are expensive and I don't think pete is musically driven enough to really bother putting a lot of effort into convincing his parents to buy him an instrument or saving up for one on his own,,,,,,,,, no.

whatever instrument pete would know how to play is whatever ted would buy because he was convinced knowing how to play an instrument would make girls think he was hot

and then (very important note: this is coming from a bass player myself) the only answer to what a pathetic, kind of gross guy with very little perception of what women would find hot who probably heard one time on twitter that guys playing acoustic guitars were cringey would buy and promptly never practice (leading to his little brother stealing it and teaching it to himself when he was bored and under stimulated) is absolutely bass guitar

[doctorwhoisadhd]

whats up gamers im: getting genuinely emotional over a casual greeting from one of my professors

[whenthehammerissquare]

Things Papa said at the Ritual last night that made me lose it

(About Nihil) "He was a better saxophone player than a father, I can tell you that much."

"But unfortunately, nothing can ever last forever. So here is a song to say goodbye." Proceeds to play Respite (I cried)

"I've always wanted to find a place to belong, and I feel like this–here–is where I belong. You should belong here too." (I also cried)

[winterrrnight]

lovers rock

PAIRING: bsf!soft!rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you kiss your best friend for the first time.

WARNINGS: slightly suggestive content (no smut): just slightly vivid descriptions of making out (but it’s soft and sweet); consumption of alcohol

EDITH SPEAKS: their first kiss feels like such a big milestone for them and I knew I had to write a oneshot for it! I hope you guys like this :) please reblog if you liked reading! feedback is highly appreciated 🎸

part of this little universe <3

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“now, how many men have you kissed?”

“very few,”

“but you offered me a kiss, why?”

“such a foolish reason i’m afraid, i just, wanted to kiss you,”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It was a small gathering of just you and your close friends at your house, a nice time to spend with one another as a form of a dinner party, involving food, drinks, and some drinking games to go along with it.

“Bye, thank you for visiting!” You said with a smile as you peered from behind the open door, waving to the last of your friends who were now leaving your house after the party. You closed the door behind them, a small stumble in your step from the alcohol coursing through your veins as you walked back to your living room, where Rafe was sprawled across the couch.

“You plannin’ on staying here?” You chuckled as you began to pick some of the dirty dishes from the coffee table and took them to your kitchen.

You heard him laugh from the kitchen, his laughter drifting up to you from the living room. He was definitely the one who had the most to drink, constantly losing the drinking games and taking shots over shots. You felt as if he’s probably doing it on purpose, but you didn’t say anything; just watched him laugh and smile and take his shots.

Once you were done with some minimal job of cleaning in the kitchen for the night, you went back to him in the living room, where he was still in the same position. Your living room was decorated around with the prettiest golden fairy lights, and were the only source of lighting in the room except the occasional moonlight filtering through the windows whenever the curtains would blow under the wind. Your record player sat in the corner, a vinyl of gentle jazz music still spinning, filling the room with the sexy saxophone notes and the deep rumbles of the bass.

He saw you approach him with a lazy smile pulling his lips, before slowly sitting up, rubbing a hand over his face.

“It’s… it’s getting late, I’m gonna leave now,” he said and started to get up from the couch. He got up quite unceremoniously, almost tripping and falling back down on the plush couch, but he gained his balance back again – barely.

You couldn’t stifle the laughter bubbling in you, so it made its way past your lips, a soft light laughter that made Rafe’s heart jump.

“Hey, now what are you laughing at huh?” He asked, his tone laced with faux arrogance as he made his way towards you. His steps were miscalculated, and he almost tripped over himself again, which caused your laughter to only increase.

“Okay okay yeah I’m making a fool of myself at this point,” he chuckled as he finally stood straight in front of you, looking at you.

Your laughter slowly died down as you looked at him, his cheeks flushed under the warm, dim lighting in your room and his hair completely mussed.

“How are you going to drive? You’re too tipsy to drive,” you said softly.

Rafe’s ears perked up at your words. “Are you extending me an invitation to stay?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

You chuckled softly at his tone and expression, and nodded your head. “I am, you’re too drunk to drive, you should stay,”

The earnest honesty in your words didn’t go unmissed by Rafe. His expressions softened, and he nodded at your words. “Okay, I’ll stay, only because you asked me so sweetly,”

“Right yeah, I’m so honored,” you said, sarcasm evident in your words, causing Rafe to let out a short laugh.

A few moments later, after you did some more cleaning up around the living room, you both found yourself sitting next to each other on the couch. The furnace was lit up too, adding more to the golden glow of the fairy lights as you both cozied up under the same warm blanket wrapped around you.

You had changed the vinyl from some jazz album to something more softer, relaxing and mellow; something you and Rafe both loved. You let your head drop on his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh as his arm came around your shoulders to pull you closer to him.

For a moment, you felt everything die down. Every stress, every anxiety, every whirlpool of all the problems you have in your mind started to die down, till you were left with nothing but a peaceful clearing. You let out a deep, heavy hearted sigh and snuggled more against Rafe’s side, who only gladly pulled you closer to him.

You reached out your hand for his free one and placed yours on top of his, causing him to look down at your head resting on his shoulder. You slowly lifted your head up, your eyes on the same level as his. Your gaze swept over his facial features, the way they were so striking under the dim, aureate lighting. Your gaze slowly trailed down over his nose and then to his lips and the soft cupid’s bow, the pink, flushed tint to his fleshy lips, and the perfect symmetry of them; all only shone more and more in the fairy lights.

You felt as if you were being gravitated towards him without any control in your hands. Your body felt like it was being controlled like a puppet by some higher power, but you did absolutely nothing in your power to stop it.

Rafe stayed right where he was, watching you lean in closer to him with your half hooded gaze transfixed on his lips, causing his own eyes to look down at your lips, watching them get closer and closer to him with each passing second. He felt as if his heart was caught in his throat, and the moment you were so close that your lips brushed past his in a touch that was barely present, he felt like he could explode.

You felt daring, really daring as your lips brushed past his, and that only fueled your craving to kiss him properly. When you didn’t hear Rafe voice any complaints, or move back from you, you felt even more bold. So bold that you brushed your lips past his again, but this time, you gently pushed your lips against his, slotting your lips between his and softly kissing him.

It felt downright euphoric, the way your lips moved so slowly and steadily against his. His hands came to cradle your face in them, the warmth of his hands sending tingles down your spine as you subconsciously lean closer to him, your own hands coming to rest against his chest.

Your head tilted slightly to the side to deepen the kiss, which; again, he made no move to pull away from. In fact, you felt his tongue gently trace against your bottom lip, coaxing your lips to part and to let him in. You let your lips separate and his warm tongue gently pushed through, delving into your mouth. His tongue tenderly mapped out the inside of your mouth, feeling and tasting everything, before it met with your tongue.

The pace remains slow and sweet, his tongue softly moving against yours and yours moving with the same intimacy, the taste of alcohol on his lips spilling onto your tongue.

As your mouth moved perfectly in sync with his, you realized that’s a taste you could never get enough of. You wanted it again, and again, and again, and again. That was when you knew there was no way you would let this be the only time you let your lips kiss his in that perfectly slow manner.

And that was when you knew there was no one you had known like Rafe.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @saccharinesammie, @maybankslover, @totalswag, @madelynie, @chenslucy /

@ietss, @elle-mp3, @viawritesstuff, @wallsdreams, @mistress-amidala /

@sadfury, @sage-burrow, @jamesbuckybarneswify, @xxxlaura, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @callsignwidow /

@starkowswife, @drewstarkeyswifehoe, @jjchaer, @f4ll-for-you, @wearemadeofstardust0 /

@drewsmusee, @rafegirly, @addriaenne, @leighbronk, @rafesdrew /

@bejeweledreverie, @raf3sgff, @aerangi, @drewstarkey1bae, @moneymaybank /

@spideysimpossiblegirl, @noahkahansorangejuice, @rafesgiirl, @theoraekenslover, @fals3-g0d /

@personalfavsthatarerandom, @b1mb0slvt, @babypoguelife, @ilyrafe, @oxpogues4lifexo /

@fionaswifeyy, @ladyinbl00d /

[hatsukeii]

tip-toe (take me back to the ground) / timeskip!iwaizumi hajime x reader

genre(s): domestic iwa omg... fluff!! very soft, straight up sensual fluff!! iwa is hot!! iwa is romantic!! iwa is good at many many things, and good WITH many many things too!! im rotting in bed thinking about what could be one day ngl

warning(s): he's very handsy let's just say that... so suggestive warning!! no explicit nsfw, gn reader, but this will get decently/pretty suggestive towards the end u have been warned:)

wc: ~1.4k

tldr; Iwaizumi Hajime wants dinner (you)

Iwaizumi Hajime likes to come home to the golden glow of table lamps, fluttering wisps of fire on the wicks of cinnamon candles on spice shelves, and a vinyl playing beneath the needle of a record player on the coffee table of his living room. It's not an extraordinarily good record player. Sometimes the pitch wavers uncertainly, almost like when the service drops on a video call and the other person's voice suddenly drops half an octave. Occasionally, the needle skips a note and adds a fleeting pop to whatever song is playing on the record, like when a few embers of a fire crackle a little louder than the rest. Whenever he hears the record player, and the muffled hums from somewhere else that fill in the jumps and correct the warped melodies from the grooves of the vinyl, Hajime feels like having dinner.

When Iwaizumi Hajime stands over the stovetop of his kitchen, sleeves of whatever top he's wearing rolled halfway up his forearms, he listens for something beyond the scratchy song from the vinyl across the living room. He squeezes a few rings of oil into a pan, and pretends to press down on the ignition at the sound of carefully muted tiptoes against wooden floorboards. Hajime is unfazed when a pair of arms slither across his stomach, and cross at his chest, but he smiles at the sensation anyways. Beneath the guise of diffused cinnamon candles, he smells soap and laundry. By how a pair of loose short sleeves slide down your arms to bare your biceps to him, he knows that you're wearing one of his freshly washed t-shirts, and pulling his back closer against your body.

"I'm sweaty, love."

"Good, you know I like it."

If you creep up on Iwaizumi Hajime, clad in slippers and his t-shirt, he can blame nothing but his inhibitions when he abandons the empty pan, and lazily turns to hold you instead. Your arms travel up his back now, hands feeling for every groove around his shoulders, the dip of his spine, the hairs that line his nape. Hajime's fingers reach beneath your shirt for your hip bones, and the record player in the background pops a note. He sinks his palms into the flesh of your waist, pushes you close until he's certain you will melt into him. His thumbs massage the outskirts of your stomach, drawing the scales and arpeggios from the song on the vinyl into your skin, and he begins to sway and step in tandem with the music that fills the room. You press your ear to his chest, synchronise your heartbeats with his own that pulses through your ears and sends your mind into a golden haze. Your feet step from side to side with him, and suddenly, Iwaizumi Hajime is slow dancing in his kitchen with you, instead of having dinner like he initially planned to.

"Missed you all day." He mumbles into the top of your head, lips against your hair.

"I know, missed you too, Hajime." You speak it into his heart through his clothed ribcage.

The song on the record player fizzles out into its next track, one that plays out in piano keys that staccato across rocks in a creek, saxophone that glides like a breeze over the surface of still water, barely causing a ripple, flutes that fly past a waterfront like birds that soar above the earth in bimbling chirps.

Iwaizumi Hajime then decides he wants a little more than just dinner.

His hands push past your waist to your ribs, fingers splaying across the two sides of your back and palms lying flat against the sides of your chest. His vision spins and flips when you sigh against his ribcage, whole body flinching at his sudden advance. He relaxes into your embrace even more, shoulders loosening and hunching into you. He feels your body shift by the way his hands seem to move up with you, and your lips leave their mark on the right side of his neck. You nibble at his skin, and the record player jumps a note again, like a flat stone skipping past the surface of quiet waters. Hajime's throat gives out, a full hum vibrating through his Adam's apple, and your lips curl into a smile against his pulse. He thinks he wants this more than dinner.

You don't realise you are stepping backwards until your heel hits the base of your kitchen island, one of Hajime's hands now settled on the small of your lower back to cushion the impact of the cold countertop. It doesn't matter anymore, really, when Iwaizumi Hajime finally dips down to catch your lips in his own, giving his dinner a first taste. Your eyes flutter close, lashes tickling his cheeks as he sinks himself further into you. Your hands grip the edge of the counter now, steadying yourself so your knees don't give out and collapse beneath you. Hajime kisses slow, but pervasive. He finds every inch of your mouth, swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, swallows your stutters by pushing even harder. Something is off with the track in the background, perhaps the needle is wearing out with how every second note seems to warp and crackle. But you're pressed up against the kitchen counter, Hajime's hands feeling for every inch of your body, so you don't really have half a mind to care about the record player right now.

Strong arms pull you up and onto the countertop, and you part your legs to let Hajime settle between them. You sit taller than he stands here, head angled downwards to meet his own. He is completely at your mercy, and he surrenders his control to you. Your hands grab at the back of his neck, pulling him into you as if he can get any closer than this. Iwaizumi Hajime is content with slow dancing, lingering touches, patient kisses. But he sighs into your mouth. You cut him off by nibbling on his lip. And when he pulls away for air, he thinks you've forced him to want more.

The song fades out into the space of the living room. The water is still again, and the moon invites itself into the scene, painting the notes that still hang in the silence a misty silver.

Your vision soaks in Hajime's expression. His eyes are lidded, half-open, yet something glimmers in his irises that travel across every detail of your face. His cheeks are stained red, the tips of his ears even more so. A glossy sheen of saliva coats the entirety of him mouth, and the skin around it too. You bring a thumb to his mouth, and wipe away at the edges of his lips with the pad of your fingertip. Looking down on Iwaizumi Hajime is not something most have the privilege of doing, and you bask in every second that he stares up at you, as if there is nothing in this lifetime that will be better than the view from below. Your hands hold his face now, fingers running themselves through his hair. He shivers at your touch, dips his head into the crook of your neck. You rub and scratch at his scalp, handfuls of soft hair brushing and pressing against your palms.

"So good to me. Too good."

"Want me to fix up dinner for you, Hajime?"

The record player doesn't make a sound. Night has settled, birds hide away in the branches of trees, the breeze smooths over the surface of the water, rocks and stones sit in the riverbed, unmoving, grounded.

When Iwaizumi Hajime separates his face from your neck, he thinks to himself, one day, I'll put a diamond on that pretty little ring finger. You continue to thread your fingertips through his hair, when he pulls you back for another kiss. This is softer, but you can tell that he is getting hungrier. He moves teasingly slow, almost agonising. His lips are hot against yours, warm breaths from his nose fanning across your cheek, and you don't miss the way his hand slides from your waist to the inside of your thigh. A finger slips beneath the hem of your shorts, pinching and tugging down at the fabric. You wrap your legs around his chest, and he pushes them apart again, holding them in place with his rough palms.

Fuck a dinner, Iwaizumi Hajime wants you instead.

"Gonna take you to the moon tonight, love."

author's note:

yall iwa is so sexy... i can't help it... i've never felt compelled to write anything overtly physical or suggestive but for iwaizumi hajime 27 athletic trainer i felt many many things... i need him sb and i hope that you do too after reading this because i need people to understand how FERAL i am for this man ;P

anyways tags!!

@catsoupki @akaakeis @staraxiaa @chuuya-brainrot @hiraethwa @4ngelfries @bailey-reeds @fiannee @stars-tonight @wyrcan

ok love u all bye bye muah see u next fic

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Not Another Time

ONE SHOT

[ or Part 2 of Could We Not ]

<< Request >> "I loved could we not. Can you maybe also write when that guy came running on stage and he maybe pushes reader out of the way or something like that😅" - anon

<< Request >> "Omg PLEASE could you do more parts or ‘could we not’ literally loved it!!!" - @loza--may

Summary: Harry is used to things getting crazy on tour. What he wasn't ready for is how much he misses YN during the Latin American leg of his tour. But at the Rio de Janeiro show, he needs to expect the unexpected.

AN: Highly requested part 2, which I wasn't expecting but am so honored to have written for you all. Sorry it took me FOREVER to write and post this. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Some explicit language, attempted attack by a fan, mild head injury

Not much can shake Harry when it comes to wild moments on tour, throughout his entire career. There once was a fan hiding in a trash bin, dildos thrown at his face, wedding proposals, canceled shows due to illness, and there was even a time when a girl tried to dolphin her way onto the stage, back in the early days. But he still loves it, loves it all. It's titled 'Love On Tour' for a reason.

Now, he's in Latin America. Any and every performance here has such a special place in Harry's heart. He has a 'brasil' tattoo on his thigh, after all. However, the time is a little different.

The horn players have not accompanied the band for these shows. No trombone, no saxophone, and no trumpets. Which means no YN. No sweet but subtle winks onstage, no flirtatious comments backstage, no seeing her bright smile, no hearing her pure laugh, or getting lost in her beautifully deep eyes. No gazing at her lips and wishing so desperately that he could kiss them again.

Unfortunately, their first kiss was their last. Harry hopes that's not forever. But after it happened, he got sick, putting a crimp in his plans to further things with her. When he recovered, their time was taken up by those last few shows in Los Angeles. Then he was off to Mexico. And she wasn't.

Needless to say, her absence is very apparent. To him, at least.

So, like he has done every show since Guadalajara, Harry checks his phone after getting dressed. He wants to make sure he hasn't missed any 'good luck' texts before going on stage, but a disappointed sigh releases as he sees that he has no new messages.

"Alright, H. Ten minutes." The stage assistant announces.

Harry nods, handing his phone over and grabbing his mic pack from the sound tech. The band gathers around for a little pre-show ritual and Harry feels the tug on his heart, wishing there were four more members in their huddle, so there could be one particular member tucked under his arm. But he commits to staying focused on his performance, to put on a good show for the people of Rio de Janeiro.

Despite a few fans fainting in Bogota, things have been relatively smooth so far, and this night should be no different. All he has to do is get out there and get through it.

"Do you know the words to this one Rio?" Harry shouts to the crowd as the band begins to play 'What Makes You Beautiful'.

Despite his efforts, this song always makes him miss YN. The trumpets in the backing track just don't do this song, or any of the songs, as much justice as when she is there, with him, playing live. The other three too, of course, but he has always been able to distinguish her trumpet from the other horns, and he would always dance near her while this song played. Without that, without her, it's just not nearly as exciting.

As he begins the second verse, Harry moves to his left, twisting around to tug on the mic cord that feels as if it's caught on something.

"I don't know why you're being shy…" Harry's eyes shoot up and then around as a security guard strides past him, settling his gaze on a figure charging towards him. "And you turn away when I look into your eyes."

It's like a flash. He is walking, then swiveling around, moving over, and then backing up into another security guard. All within a matter of a few seconds. It takes a moment for him to fully understand what's happening, as multiple crew members grab hold of the man.

Watching him be dragged offstage, Harry moves back to the center mic, still in shock of what happened but still wanting to continue the song.

He glances over to each side of the stage, shaking the disbelief away when he meets the gazes of a few of the band and crew. Each one reciprocates the sentiment, yet seem to keep their caution, as a few of them motion over that way. Harry turns back, just for a quick check, and notices a small group of people gathered in a huddle. He turns back to the crowd. He trusts his team, he knows they are handling whatever it is, and he won't let this one moment take away from the show. It can't stop him. It won't stop him.

As the song ends he takes a quick moment to gather himself and take a breath before turning to the crowd.

"Well that was different…" He states sarcastically, though truthfully. It's probably one of the more accurate ways to describe that moment, especially if he's trying to keep this a 'family show', as he always claims. "Is everybody okay?"

The fans laugh and cheer, seeming to answer his question with the same disbelief he feels.

"I'm shooketh… I'm shooketh!" He exclaims, receiving another laugh from the audience. At least they are recovering and feeling good. Now he can recover and feel good too. He twists around, looking from one side of the stage to another, meeting the gaze of a few security guards and crew as he does so. "Thank you, thank you. You saved me!"

That's when he catches it. The glimpse of a familiar face, of YN's face, off to the side of the stage, among the small group he had noticed earlier. However, her expression is not one he's seen before. Well, only once before. It's pained, again, but this time it looks worse, and Harry feels his stomach drop.

He transitions into a quick acknowledgement of his band members, his mind wanting to focus solely on the one who wasn't even scheduled to be there, but as soon as he's done, he takes advantage of what's next.

He uses the band mic to let everyone know he'll be off to the side while the extended introduction to 'Late Night Talking' plays on the screens, and once the lights dim he swiftly makes his way over.

"YN. What's-... what are you-… umm, hi." He fumbles, his thoughts racing with so many questions. He didn't even know she'd be in Brazil, or at the show, let alone on the side of the stage, and now she's standing there in front of him, with an ice pack on her head.

"Hi." She chuckles minimally, hurting Harry's heart with the lack of usual enthusiasm and joy. "I came… to surprise… everyone."

"Well, you did that!" He exclaims, managing as best of a smile as he can. His gaze travels from her eyes, to her lips, and then up to her head, and his expression immediately drops. "What happened?"

"It's nothing." She attempts to play off, much like the last time he saw her injured. "Don't worry about me."

"That's impossible." He retorts. "What happened?"

"The guy… the fan, just… knocked me down… on his way out with security." She shakes her head, scoffing, though Harry feels as if she's directing it towards herself more than anyone else.

"Okay. Umm… go backstage and get checked out." He states, his ears picking up on the music, knowing he'll have to return to center stage in just a few moments. "I'll… I'll see you after, yeah?"

"Harry, I'm fi-"

"Just do it!" He exclaims, immediately wincing as he watches her eyes widen with surprise. He's never talked to her like that, never even raised his voice even remotely in her direction without it being out of excitement or flirtation. But he cares about her, and now he will only worry more seeing her there in pain. "Please."

She nods, opening her mouth with a reply, but seemingly deciding against it.

Harry gives YN a quick kiss on the cheek and hustles back over to his mic stand, shooting his gaze to the side for one last glance of her as she walks out of sight.

It's not as if he's going to stop worrying, but maybe it'll be a little less than it would if she were still there watching him. He knows she'll be taken care of, and he'll see her when it's over. Right now, he needs to get through the rest of it, preferably without any other issues.

"... on a Summer evening, what is happening? An-... you're the end of… we are going to stop the song."

Technical difficulties. During 'Watermelon Sugar'. Of course. As if Harry's mind wasn't already somewhere else. He knows it's an easy fix, hopefully, but it's just another thing added to the existing thoughts already causing chaos in his mind. He's a professional, sure, but everyone has a limit and he just doesn't want to find out where his is.

Get through it. That's all he has to do, just get through the next song, the show, and the night. Just get through it and then get to YN.

'Love of My Life' is next. Thankfully it's a slow song, so he can calm his mind and body down, even just a little, before the break in the set. And at that point he can finally regroup.

It works, for a moment, until he notices that some fans need help, and despite making his team aware, they are still there struggling. He lifts the mic stand up and turns his head back, motioning with his finger, with some intensity, for someone to help them and get them out of there.

He feels himself spiraling, just a bit, and has never looked forward to the end of a song as much as he is tonight.

As Harry waves to the crowd, with a mouthful of water, he impatiently waits to spit it up in the air, thank the crowd, and get the hell off stage.

The crowd continues to applaud and cheer as he says goodbye, turning around and using the last bit of energy he has to run backstage.

He stops among the hustle of the crew, realizing he isn't sure where to go, or where to even start looking for YN. The most likely place is his dressing room, so he swiftly shuffles his way there, doing his best to acknowledge anyone he passes by that congratulates or compliments him. He feels bad, he usually takes time with each person, always grateful for their work and feedback. But not tonight. He only has one person on his mind. One person he wants and needs to see.

He swings the door open and takes a quick scan of the room, finding no one. Not anyone. Not her. He runs his fingers through his now very sweaty hair, inhaling deeper to catch his breath and figure out where to go next, where to look next.

He takes a seat on the couch, elbows resting in his knees, and glances over to the table in front of him to find a note that wasn't there before. He grabs it immediately, blinking the salty moisture out of his eyes as he looks over the words.

"Hey H.

Went back to the hotel.

Hope you had a great

rest of your show!

- YN"

"Fuck." He mumbles, suddenly remembering how he yelled for her to go backstage. Well, he could argue that he only raised his voice, but in that moment, that hectic moment, it didn't matter. He shouldn't have done it at all. And truth be told, it would've made the entire night better if she had stayed. But he yelled, and sent her away. Now all he wants to do is go to her and make it better, make her feel better.

After the fastest shower and outfit change of his life, Harry found Jeff and discovered that his manager helped YN get there, so he knew which hotel room was hers. At least Harry didn't have to spend countless hours searching all of Rio for her.

He stands in front of her door and takes a deep breath, nerves on edge as he knocks, and fully prepared for her to open the door and ask him to leave. Immediately.

"Harry?" He hears, causing his gaze to lift from his shoes to the woman in front of him. She's dressed in cotton shorts and a t-shirt, looking comfortable and yet more beautiful than he's ever seen her. He just wishes she wasn't also holding another ice pack to her temple.

"YN." He breathes out, unable to form any other words as he looks her over, hopefully more subtle than he fears it might be. "Are y-... how… I mean, umm…"

The sweetest sound grabs his attention and he watches her step aside as she lets out a small giggle.

"Come in."

He nods, and without hesitation steps into the room. The sound of the door closing causes him to swivel on his heel, and his eyes stay fixed on YN as she motions him over to the edge of the bed.

"What's up?" She asks, casually, removing the ice pack and placing it down beside her.

"I, umm, wanted to check on you." He answers, not convinced his volume was even loud enough to be heard. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore." She swiftly responds, and he cringes at the lack of emotion with it. Even though it was only one word, he feels as if he knows her well enough to know that's not her normal tone. "Hit my head when the guy knocked me to the ground."

"I'm so sorry, YN. I didn't know you were there tonight, or I would've…" He pauses, looking down to where his nails pick at each other. "I don't know… I could've done… something…"

"No, Harry, I'm sorry." She states, causing his gaze to shoot back up to find hers filled with, what looks like, embarrassment. And maybe even regret. But definitely with insecurity, which is not something he's used to seeing from her. "I shouldn't have come."

"Oh." His heart drops.

"I feel like I may have been in the way. Well, I was for that fan…" She states, the smallest smile lifting the corners of her mouth, despite the roll of her eyes and shake of her head. "But I definitely didn't want to be in yours."

"No! I'm glad you're here!" He replies, without hesitation, and watches as her eyes widen, now allowing him to see the depths at which they usually take him to.

"You are? Because it seemed like…" YN clears her throat, confirming for Harry that she is in fact nervous. Not confident. And it seems to be his fault. "It seemed like you were upset when you saw me."

"No! Not at all." Harry replies, his frustration with himself appearing in the crease between his brows. "I wasn't upset seeing you there, I was upset seeing you hurt. Really upset. I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, H. I'm alright."

"I know. I know that. I just… I was worried for the rest of the show, wondering if you were okay. It was torturing me."

"I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm really sorry." She lets out a sigh, and it almost breaks Harry's heart as she drops her gaze and squeezes her eyes shut.

"No, don't-... that's not-..." Harry lets out a low growl in frustration. He doesn't know how to express what he means, and if he even should. But at this point, he doesn't know if he can hold back. "It was torture because all I wanted to do was fix it for you. Like last time."

"Like last time?"

He hears her breath hitch, and his heart races more, feeling each beat thump against his chest. They had shared a kiss the last time she got hurt. They spent the rest of the night together, hanging out and talking until the sun was almost rising. But then nothing. Was that it? Was it just a one time thing, just a momentary thing after an adrenaline-raising show? No, it wasn't. Not for him. And she needs to know.

"I… like you, YN. A lot. And that night… meant a lot to me." He fully turns his body towards her, gaining a fraction of the confidence for himself that he has always seen in her, and since she is now there in Brazil, he won't waste another minute without sharing his heart. "We didn't really get to talk much afterwards, or see each other even, but I just need you to know that… I want to be with you. If… if that's something you want too."

Harry watches as she pulls her lips inward, hoping that the expression he sees underneath is pleasant. Pleasant for him. But he suddenly realizes that if she doesn't feel the same, he doesn't want to lose her. For the band.

"If it's not, no problem. We can move past it." He swallows the lump caught grasping against the walls of his throat. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, and don't want you to leave the band over it. You're very talented, YN."

"Thank you." She replies, looking over at him with those gorgeous eyes and a tenderness she's never given him before, and despite him offering to move past his feelings, for the sake of his heart, he desperately hopes that she feels the same. He wants her to only look at him like that from now on. "And that night meant a lot to me as well."

"Yeah?" He responds, shifting in his spot at the edge of her bed, with all the giddiness of a lovesick school boy.

"I want to be with you too, H."

His palms fly up to her cheeks, receiving a warmth from them that flows right to his chest. His gaze flickers to her lips, yearning for them, desperate for them.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?" She chuckles, and his heart swells from the self-assurance that she always expresses, that he has fallen for.

He grins, wider than he ever has, but only for a moment. He's not going to wait any longer. He leans closer, and her eyes close, pursing her soft lips to meet his in a gentle kiss.

Her hands run up his arms, applying pressure as they move over his shoulders, and connect behind his neck. She pulls him closer, and his tongue teases her lips before she parts them, each sighing as they deepen the kiss.

His chest tightens, this time out of need for air, so he pulls back, only leaving enough room for a breath, and smiles as he hears her release her own, happy exhale.

"How are you feeling now?" He asks, resting his forehead against hers as one hand strokes over the hair covering her temple.

"Much better. I do need to rest now, though." She whispers. "But, you know, I may have a concussion…"

"That's not funny."

"No, it's not. It's very serious." She pulls away more, hands still behind his head, and his mind fills with worry. Worry and confusion, as he watches her smile reappear through her solemn expression. "I should probably have someone stay with me tonight. To make sure I'm alright, of course."

"Of course." He smirks, feeling his heart burst, following as she scoots up the bed and rests her head on the pillow.

He does the same, laying down to face her, and sees her eyes begin to flutter shut. It's been an exhausting day for the both of them.

"Come here." He whispers, opening his arms for her to settle in, wrapping them around her body, and pulling her to his chest. "You doing okay?"

"More than okay." She utters, drowsiness now coating her words. "Thank you, for fixing things."

"Anytime." He replies, placing a tender kiss on top of her head. "I'll fix things for you anytime."

A silence falls between them, and as he hears her soft breaths leave her even softer lips, Harry hums in contentment, allowing his own body to succumb to the rest it now needs too. He shuts his eyes, and one last thought appears as he feels himself happily drift off to sleep.

Despite all the chaos, this night didn't turn out so bad after all. With YN, it's been the best one yet.

Main Masterlist

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[shiraishi--kanade]

Subjectively rating everyone's instrument match ups from this official art for Sekai Symphony 2024

Without individual pictures because I'm on mobile.

Leo/need:

Ichika (electric guitar): sigh... Girl why are you like this. Unfathomable. I'll let it slide because it's Ichika. Rating: electic guitar/10.

Saki (violin): Saki does not give me violin vibes at all but I'm sure she'll kill it if she actually wanted to learn. 5/10

Honami (oboe): I'm deeply offended Honami isn't in the percussion section. 2/10

Shiho (trombone): the most non-brass player brass player known to world. I don't see how it fits her. 1/10

Overall rating: they don't get you like I do girls I'm so sorry

More More Jump:

Minori (trumpet): absolutely incredible. Yes she's a trumpet girlie. I can totally see that. 10/10

Haruka (flute): yes. Oh my god yes. She is so flute-coded she can rival only Mafuyu. 10/10

Airi (viola): very mean. Let her in the violin section. That said I can already see at least three interesting story lines connected to that. Carry on. 10/10

Shizuku (harp): need I say more? 10/10

Overall rating: they would carry the entire orchestra on their backs, 10/10

Vivid Bad Squad:

Kohane (saxophone): the mental image is hilarious and I can totally see Kohane falling in love with the sax but she gets points taken away from her because saxophone is so not a protagonist instrument. 8/10

An (double bass): ...well someone needed to be a bass player but An is not that someone. She's not even tall enough. Free her. 3/10 because at least she looks like she's having fun.

Touya (trombone): hehe funky slide go brrr. Yeah I can see that. 8/10

Akito (violin): I've told you he has violin vibes. I told you so. Absolutely perfect pick. I think Akito would be a good concertmaster as well. 10/10

Overall rating: decent picks but An was done dirty and should have been a cellist. 7/10

Wonderlands x Showtime:

Tsukasa (cymbals): my condolences to all the percussion section but also yeah that makes sense. 10/10

Nene (cello): itty bitty cellist her instrument is almost as tall as she is. I definitely see the image though. 10/10

Emu (tambourine): she will insure her part will he heard. That said I think she'd do better at the marimba or other percussion instruments. At least it's not a triangle? 7/10

Rui (viola): I did not consider that option before and now I'm considering it. I'm considering it so hard. Incredible. 9/10

Overall rating: they're thriving. 9/10

Nightcord at 25 am:

Kanade (viola): yes. Yes. I can see that. Go forth my child. Make the viola gang proud. 10/10

Mafuyu (flute): that's a flute player if I've ever seen one. 10/10

Ena (violin): oh her having the same instrument as Akito would destroy both of them and me in the process. I could write a novel about it. 10/10

Mizuki (trumpet): they're just having fun and being silly. 10/10

Overall rating: truly Sega's favourite child. 10/10

No VS rating because they have different enough personalities between units that I have no idea how to rate them! Sorry!

[bobbin-buckley]

That Girl Is Mine

Tara Carpenter x Saxophoneplayer!Fem!Reader

Summary: You play saxophone with a band called “Sweaters In Fall”, you and another girl plus three other guys are in it. You’re girlfriend Tara comes to see your biggest concert at the Radio City Music Hall (NYC), after the concert things do seem to work with you in the band

Warnings: Fluff, Cat-Calling, Little bit of blood, Pervert, sexual mentions, lots of cursing, some punching

Y/F/B: Your Favorite Band

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

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

It’s the night before you and your bands performance at the Radio Music Hall.

You were very nervous, it was unusual for you to be this nervous. It wasn’t because of the people but it was because your girlfriend was coming to watch with her friends and her older sister Sam.

Not that you were scared of Tara being there, you were excited that the dark brunette and her friends were coming, it was just Sam.

Sam never really liked you, she had her suspicions. You respected that since after what they’ve gone through was tragic. This special night wasn’t just about winning an award to you but it meant to prove yourself worthy for Tara, you wanted Sam to see your talent and maybe she’ll like you. Maybe….

“Yo Y/n! What’s got ya all worked up?” Your bandmate Damien asked, he was a nice guy, he was a tall lengthy black man about in his middle twenties. “You’re not all pumped up like you normally are during rehearsal.”

“Just nervous I guess…” “Nonsense! You’re never nervous!” Kayleen hyped. Kayleen was your best friend, you guys were pretty close she was the reason why you joined the band. Damien and the other two guys were a little eh about another Saxophone player joining, but the raven hair just glared at them and had you join. You were the high voice of the group, the great Alto Sax player.

“Yeah, Y/N/N, you seem so low right now and you’re the loudest person normally.” Pip spoke, Pip was your 3rd favorite of the group. He was pretty quiet the majority of the time but he indeed was a fantastic Trumpet player. ‘Pip the Pipet’ Damien gave him the nickname, Pip hated it but he’s adjusted to it now since it sticks with him.

You all had nicknames, yours was Sexy Sax (boy you hate it but at this point you don’t care, Tara teases you about it), Kayleen’s was Sax Positive, every time you hear that nickname you can’t help but laugh a little. Damien’s is Damn Keyboard (idk) as he played keyboard in the band. Last but not least Dan…

you hated Dan oh boy, if you were to go ghostface he’d be the reason.

Dan was a creep in your opinion. Nobody else agreed though, he was just very…odd. He was an older man, I’d say in his early 40’s, he does have a lot of experience in jazz and band in general but he seemed off…every time after your solo in one of the songs you’d catch him looking at you with heart eyes, you’d catch him doing it to Kayleen as well. Eugh…you hate him

“Yeah baby stop being so low, your supposed have a high pitched voice in the band. If you know what I mean.” Dan said…flirted?

You wanted to throw up after he said that. Fuck he gives you the jeepers creepers.

“I’m fine guys I swear. It’s just my girlfriend is coming to watch tomorrow and her sister..isn’t quite found of me..” you rambled.

“Sorry to hear that champ. But everything will go great! Just…focus on yourself and not the crowed.” Damien explained, you have him a nod.

“Well, it’s getting late guys we should head home for the night,” everybody nodded in agreement with Pip.

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

It was a quick walk home, you hadn’t lived far from Damien’s house. Which is where you guys rehearsed most days unless the Blackmore’s band director lets you in.

Moonlight On the River by Mac DeMarco was playing in your ears, your saxophone in case swaying in your left hand as you trotted in the perfect white snow on New York’s streets to your way home.

You swore someone was following you, feeling eyes staring at the back of your head. You stopped in your tracks turning around to see no one.

Maybe it’s an animal or my imagination?

You thought

As paranoid as you used to be it’s been higher ever since you heard about the ghostface attacks. Tara always pushed you away when you met, you weren’t sure why until you discovered she was The younger sister of Sam Carpenter.

Eventually you told her you don’t care about some psycho idiot under a ghost mask with a knife.

It wasn’t long after you confessed that you really liked her and started the first date. It’s been a few months since you guys started dating, you both were happy.

You told Tara you’d always be there for her if she wanted to talk about everything or anything else that’s keeping her down. She appreciates you for that, but also doesn’t want to burden you because she knows you have your own issues.

Opening your apartment door, stepping in and feeling the nice warmth greeting you. You flicked on the lights with your free hand after slipping off your shoes and walked to your bedroom.

You sat down your saxophone in the corner of your room as well as your backpack, coat. Walking over to your bed taking the snow covered sweater and sweatpants you were wearing off. (I’m more masc btw so masculine wear)

Putting on a white-T with a sweatshirt over that has Y/F/B on it and throwing on a black pair of sleep pants. That’s when your phone started buzzing in your bag.

You grabbed your bag again and opened it to grab your phone, seeing that your one and only was calling you.

With a smile you pressed the green button without hesitation and pulled the phone to your ear.

“Hey Baby!”

You blushed at her voice and nickname

“Hey Tar, how was your day?”

“Not bad, just- some arguing with Sam. You know, the usual.”

“Sorry to hear that, what was it about? If you done mind me asking.”

“It’s fine love, it was just about me walking alone to school. She needs to grow up sometimes, I mean I do appreciate her safety, it’s just a pain up my ass all the time.”

You understood Tara’s annoyance, your mom was the same. She’d harp on you about being safe even if your taking out the trash, (though you don’t live with her no more)

Sam was always protective, ever since the first Ghostface incident. Sam has prevented Tara from having outside friends (definitely after Quinn and Ethan).

That’s why Sam dislikes you, she’s scared you’ll be the next ghostface. But Tara wants Sam to understand that she’ll fall in love at some point, and she already has. It’s you

You’re the lucky girl

“Yeah I know hun, hey tell you what. Tomorrow night I’ll prove Sam with my magical music talent that I’m worthy!”

Tara chuckled, “sure baby, you are quiet talented my musical girl. I’m excited for tomorrow, by the way, how was practice?”

“Good, Kayleen and the boys are hyped. I think we’re all ready, I’m just a bit nervous…” you said, biting your nails.

“Why nervous Y/N/N? You’re never nervous.”

“That’s what the band said..haha.” You paused with a fake laugh. “I guess it’s me trying to prove how good I am to Sam, and how important you are to me.”

“Honey, even if Sam didn’t care about tomorrow then screw her, cause you shouldn’t care about what Sam thinks. It’s Sam! But I know Sam will get your trust eventually she just has a hard time opening up,” you sigh, “plus I think she’ll love it. Sam really likes music if you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t know actually, but thanks Tar.”

“No problem baby, I gotta go Sam needs my help with dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow night! Love ya!”

Your heart skipped a beat, “love you too, see ya!”

You smiled widely after Tara hung up. You were going to prove your worthy for Tara to Sam.

Sam doesn’t realize how much you love that little feisty girl

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

It’s currently 7:30

Your show starts in thirty minutes

Sitting on an old chair in the back room as Kayleen does a few more touches with your make-up

You weren’t a big fan of wearing make-up, but Kayleen insisted on you wearing some especially for tonight. It wasn’t crazy make-up, just some highlights and eyeliner, nothing punk looking but more casual.

“Cmon Y/N/N you’re our sexy sax you gotta look sexy,” you rolled your eyes. “Even Pip gets a little bit of a make-over!”

“Uh-what?” Pip quipped.

“…Annnnd done!” Kayleen exclaimed, “it’s your turn Pip!”

Pip groaned but gave in

“A-are we all getting make-up?” Damien asked.

“No, Pip just doesn’t get the option because he’s one of our big soloists! But if you want make-up I’d be happy to-”

“Absolutely not,” both Damien and Dan said. The raven shrugged and went back to work

“So Y/N/N? How are you feeling?” Damien asked, as he sat next to you.

“Better, I talked to my girlfriend last night and told about my nerves but she said I’ll be okay and other things.” “Awe, she must be a real sweet one.” You blushed as his comment, Tara was a sweet one even if she’s a little feisty at times.

“We have about ten minutes left.” Dan looked at his watch.

“Shit!!” Kayleen squealed.

You laughed at her antics when she jumped to grab more blush

“We’ve got time girl.”

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

Tara shifted in her seat as she looked around the interior of the Music Hall.

She’s never been inside the music building, she’s only passed in on walks, in a taxi or on the bus.

It was quite beautiful, the lights were pretty, the room was nice and warm and it was just gorgeous in general, it was a very open dome with a lot of people.

Sam didn’t want to spend a lot of money so they chose the middle seats on the balcony. Tara wouldn’t really be able to see you but the tv’s they had were enough to see your gorgeous face.

“God I’m so excited! Thanks again Sam!” Chad smiled bright. Mindy thanked her too.

“Of course,” Sam smiled. “Thanks Sam, seriously, you don’t know how much this means to me and especially Y/N/N.”

The older Carpenter smiled at her little sister.

“Up next we have our Jazz Band “Sweaters In Fall!!!”

When Tara heard your band name she perked up and watched ahead of her as she cheered with the crowed.

You and band walked up stage with your instruments, the keyboard and drums already set for Damien and Dan.

“Let’s meet our lovely band! Up first is Pip the Pippet! Our Trumpeter!” Pip smiled shyly.

“Second we have Sax Positive Kayleen!”

Mindy shook her head, “reminds me of Quinn sadly.” Tara chuckled a bit.

“Third we have Damien that Damn Keyboard!” Everybody laughed and cheered.

“Fourth we have Drummer Dan!”

“He looks like he’s sixty!!” Chad yelled. Tara didn’t like Dan, the stuff you’ve told Tara about him make her sick in the stomach but that feeling faded away once the guy announcing announced your name.

“Last but not Least! Y/N/N the Sexy Sax player!!” (Sorry not sorry)

Tara blushed when you waved a bit to the the crowed. Knowing you were looking for her.

“Let’s get this party started!”

~~~~~~~~~(sorry if it’s cheesy 😭)

You were at the last song of your album. The next song was more of something you wrote yourself. (Not actually 😭 cause that’d be copyright)

Tara cheered with the crowed once the song was finished. You eagerly searched for her in the crowed then spotted her a bit later.

You blew a kiss at her as she did it back.

“Cmon Y/n! We gotta go!” Pip called.

You nodded, taking one last glance in Tara’s direction before following your friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s it! That was it my guys!” Damien screamed in victory.

“Eh it was alright-” “What do you mean it was alright Kay? That was our best yet!!” Pip cut off Kayleen.

You smiled bright once you entered the backroom. This was definitely the best performance you’ve had in awhile, and you were proud of that.

It didn’t matter to you if you won something but- it mattered that you did it. All you cared about was Sam liking you.

The band continued to talk about the performance whilst you put up your saxophone.

“Y/n!” You looked up at her voice.

Tara jumped into your arms with a big smile, Sam and her friends no too far behind.

“Hey babe! How’s you guys get in?” You looked over Tara’s shoulder, making sure no guards were about to run in saying they broke in.

“They let us in, I told them I was with you.”

“Now who’s this pretty lady?” Dan asked, he made your stomach curl and in a disgusted way.

“I’m Tara,” she said a little grossed out herself.

“Hey! Y/n, you can officially meet Sam now!” Tara turned to her older sister, motioning Sam to approach.

Sam looked at you with those ‘I don’t trust you eyes’. Sam scared you a bit, but being up close..Jesus you were more scared.

“Nice to meet you Y/n,” your eyes widened. Sam, Sam Carpenter being nice to you? She held out her hand waiting for you to shake it. “I-uh hi- S-Sam.”

Sam pulled her hand away and chuckled, “you don’t need to be afraid of me. Sorry for scaring you a bit, I’m a bit worried meeting new people. As Tara probably already told you.”

You nodded with a small smile. Tara was ecstatic with your first impressions on each other.

“Yo Y/n! You gonna introduce them?” Damien spoke.

“Oh uh- yeah! This is my girlfriend Tara her sister and friends. Guys this is Damien, Kayleen, Pip and-..Dan.” You pointed to the each of them.

There were some waves and hi’s

“Y/n, you didn’t tell me your girlfriend was hella hot.” Dan walked close.

“Excuse me?” Both you, Tara and Sam said.

“You heard me.”

You looked at Dan with hatred. “Back the fuck up.”

“Woah, no need to get all frisky babe.”

“Don’t fucking call her that!” Tara yelled.

You put a hand out in front of Tara, keeping her back.

“Damn, she’s loud too.”

“Shut the fuck up you perverted mother fucker!” You shoved Dan back, but it wasn’t long before he struck your nose with his fist.

You stumbled back, wincing and clutching your nose as it bled. “Y/n..”

“Oh come on Y/n, your worse than your are at pleasing her.”

That’s when Sam lost it as well. Sam punched Dan, you pushing Sam back to finish the job.

You grabbed him by the shoulders and slamming him against the wall. “I swear to fucking god! If you ever say any of those things ever again I’ll break your skull!!!”

“Hmp, I’d like to see you try.”

Damien and Sam both grabbed your arm before you got the chance to swing another punch at him.

“Let me go!!”

“Dan, get the fuck away! Go! You’re out of this fucking band!!” Damien screamed.

“Whatever, I didn’t want to be here anyways, I just wanted to see some ladies.” Dan chuckled.

You snarled. “Get him away from me.”

Damien and Pip nodded before getting Dan out of the room.

“Y/n-” “Let’s just go home.”

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

“How’s it feeling?”

You and Tara were in her bedroom. After tonight’s event, your hand was swollen and bleeding. Sam checked it and no brokenness to it, just some bruises and scratches, plus it’ll sting.

“Like shit.” You huffed, laying back on her bed. Tara already patched you up, it hurt like a bitch too.

“I’m sorry,” “no. I’m sorry, I should’ve just kicked him off the band way before!” You threw your hands up.

“Baby, it’s not your fault. It isn’t your fault he’s some fucked up pervert, but thank you for defending me.” Tara brushed her fingers through your sweaty hair.

“Anytime..” you smile. Tara leaned down to kiss you on the lips, placing her scarred hand on your unharmed cheek.

“I love you.” “Love you too.”

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

This is fuckin cheesy.

Sorry for not uploading this faster than I planned. Weird shit has happened this past week

I need ideas cause my brain hurts and I can’t think of anything rn

[sugoi-writes]

Scream Machine - An Alastor x Reader fic

(Not sure if this will be a multipart yet or not, but hopeful for it to be! I hope you enjoy some brain rot with me! For reference of the song, look up Scream Machine by Maynard Ferguson on Youtube!)

Reader is a musician who started playing in their time in hell, and likes wearing heels/dresses. Alastor is brought to a "classy" speakeasy by Husk, and is perfectly content with watching your performance...

No warnings, past minor implications/pining and mentions of blood and darker intentions. Have fun! 🎙❤️

❤️🎙❤️

The hellish speakeasy was bellowing with lively chatter, instrumentalists setting up for a new set. As Husk adjusted his mouthpiece, Alastor gives him a beckoning wave, eyebrow twitching. Shit

Knowing his goose could be cooked, Husk trudges his way over, his tenor saxophone hanging lazily around his neck," What's the matter?"

Alastor, expression blunt, says" So I'm supposed to assume that this next chart... ugh, Scream Machine... is going to be... tasteful?" The Radio Demon looked forlorn, ears drooping slightly. He had been promised performances that were more his style. But all that he's observed and heard is BAD jazz. He had half a mind to think that his 'associate' had done this on purpose.

"I have to admit, Husker, while these pieces could certainly be called JAZZ... it's not quite to my tastes." Husk rolls his eyes, ears perking up when his name is called from the stage. Husk waves Alastor off dismissively, his saxophone being slung back to a playable position.

"Some new hot-shot features in it... 'figured you might give it a shot. You might just find a new 'pet' to listen to..." Alastor all but cackles, wiping a stray tear from his eye," Replacing you, dear Husker? Don't be absurd!" Alastor gives his henchman a cheeky wave of his fingers, making the anthropomorphic cat growl. God, Husk hated that fucker...

But, to Alastor's surprise, his eyes did befall a nearly angelic sight. Your shoes clicked loudly as you entered the stage, calling forth attention from the room. It quickly fell to silence as everyone waited for the performance to start.

Alastor's eyes narrowed as he watched you shake hands with the vile, modern jazz conductor... Your grip seemed firm, domineering almost. He was quick to note the flinch he gave you, that nervous smile of an intimidated man. What a curious creature you were; you oozed confidence and bravdo.

There you were, dressed in a long, elegant gown that drug along the floor. Alastor's posture straightens as the jazz conductor let you take your place, before counting the band off. The intro was quiet, featuring only a small handful of instruments. Alastor nearly leaned in as it grew, the trumpets coming in to the fray after a few measures. He realized then that you must be a trumpet player and the hot shot soloist that Husk mentioned. His interest in you grew as he eyed you from across the room.

Your hands were slender, though not quite as slim as his... and much smaller. But, they did seem very nimble. As you gracefully glided through different fingerings and positions, Alastor found himself distracted by your hands. He saw how you seemed to have a loose, almost nonchalant grip, while your soul gave the performance of your life. A perfect juxtaposition between your handshake and now; that fascinated him. He wondered if your bravado was your mask, or if that was the REAL you...

His hair nearly blew back from his face as the chorus kicked in, eyes wide in disbelief. Indeed, that's why it's called Scream Machine. All the right notes, the chords were perfectly struck...but there was still a zanny dissonance that had him gritting his teeth. How gauche...

But, when you began your solo, his ears couldn't help but flick and flex towards you, absolutely devouring your tone and clarity. You cut through the ensemble like a well sharpened knife, your style and timbre undeniable. It almost made the song forgivable, in his eyes. He rested his chin on his hand's plateau, eyes lidded. Despite the jazz being more bombastic and modern... he could get used to this if you were at the helm...

You sauntered towards the front of the ensemble as you blazed into another solo, your fingers and tongue articulating quickly. You were effortlessly setting the newfound tone. He was impressed, to say the least. Improv or not, the solo was quite a tricky one. One that even he would struggle with on a piano. As you walked across the stage, you struck a powerful pose, before the conductor grabbed the edge of your dress and tugged. Hard.

For a moment, a flash of anger crossed Alastor's forced smile, until he was hit with the "reveal".

In a quick flourish that matched the highest note of your solo, you stood in a now short, golden dress that hugged your figure. It seemed that Alastor didn't mind the show... in fact, he was nearly enslaved by your performance.

You shot the crimson and pitch demon a devious look, winking as your solo continued. Alastor felt his mouth salivating, swallowing harshly to get rid of the access fluids. It was strange enough to find himself this entertained... more so than his heightened curiosity.

The way your throat bellowed and constricted when you were playing... the way your cheeks puffed just a bit was you sustained insane, high notes... the way your eyes would flit about the room, but always land on him. Maybe he wasn't the only one caught staring...

The Radio Demon's mind landed on a simple notion: tasting the metallic tang of your lips, fresh from the kiss of your mouthpiece. Would it taste metallic and jarring like blood, he wondered? Would you be breathless from your performance, or just getting warmed up? Alastor shook his head with a start. What a strange thought to have... especially for him. He tried to dismiss it, foot tapping instinctively to the beat.

As the song continued, it suddenly grew quieter, the piano, drumkit, and string bass the only instruments playing. He watched as you blew slow, hot air in your horn, keeping it warm as you rested. Your lips were red, slightly puffy from your efforts. Even as a talented as you were, you had a crack in your mask: you were definitely a little winded.

As he kept watching you, Alastor couldn't help but focus on how your pulse beat in time with the music on stage... His devious mind cooked up the idea of sinking his teeth into your quivering heartbeat... Perhaps he would lure you out back, to a quiet place...

Again, he surprised himself. He had to clear his mind as he tried to focus anywhere but your neck, fingers and face.

Then suddenly, the main motif hit again, and he nearly fell backward in his chair. His own heart thumped madly, matching your own. Your eyes didn't meet his, but even so, he felt like you were playing just for him. He WANTED you to play just for him.

Alastor gripped the sides of his chair harshly, elongated talons splintering the wood. That settles it. Husker was right about one thing... you were a fascinating sight... one to behold, and maybe even held...

As the song wound towards its conclusion, you gave a wide twirl of your hips, before striking your final note. The accompaniment roared life, sustaining the final note before hitting it again, resolutely. Applause echoed throughout the room as Alastor felt the need to join. He was not keen on appearing rude or uncultured. His characteristic smile stretched his thin face as you beamed and bowed. Your eyes, wide with awe, glanced his way. Alastor noted the way your face heated, nodding and giving him a flattered smile.

Indeed that settles it; he would speak with you. Now. Alone... And from there, who knows what he'll do? Alastor slunk into the shadows, Husk unaware that his master was taking a quick detour...

Backstage, you were being fawned over and cheered for, the instrumentalists and crew happily contesting how talented you were. You would always smile and chuckle, doing your best to wave off the compliments. Truth be told, you did enjoy the hell out of them, but you didn't want it all to go to your head. Not yet, anyway~

Even now, you were humble, as a unfamiliar shadow formed behind you. Instinctively, you flinched and turned towards the figure, having to look up to meet the gaze.

It was none other than Alastor, the Radio Demon.

"I must say... that was quite the riveting performance, dear. Quite the act! I wanted to give you my gratitude for making something so loud and gauche bearable to listen to." Alastor offered a sweet, welcoming hand, outstretched for you to take. Come on, he thought... shake his hand like you had the conductor's.

You had sized him up, knowing fully well who was paying you the backhanded compliment, "Alastor, sir... 'pleasure to be meeting the Radio Demon in the flesh." Your hand met his, and just like he suspected; you nearly held him in a vice grip. The sinister smile on his face doubled, a chuckle and a quirked brow sent your way.

"My, do my ears deceive me? Am I in the presence of a fan~?" The tone of his microphone filter made his voice smooth as velvet. His voice forced you to suppress a shiver. You roll your eyes, before an uncharacteristically soft smile graces your face; one that didn't match your firm grip.

"You could assume that, I suppose... I've been an active listener to your broadcasts for a while now. 'Gotta keep up with who got got... and who has the best music on the air."

If Alastor smiled any wider, he would be entering his full-demonic form. But for now, he controlled himself.

"Well, isn't this a treat then..." Alastor leans down to your height, his face mere inches from yours," I dont intent to be forward or crass, but perhaps you could accompany me on a quick stroll?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you processed his words. Knowing that he was an overlord, his words were a demand, not a request. If you refuse, you may die. If you go with him... you may die just the same. Every fiber in your being demanded that you turn him down. Lie, and say you have one more set...

You puffed out your chest, a brave grin on your face," Sure... My chops are busted from that last set. Let's bounce."

Alastor offered you an arm, something you weren't expecting. You hesitated a beat longer than you should have before taking it. Alastor's grip now firm, you felt yourself bend and wane before solidifying just outside the joint you played in. Your head turned quickly towards the door, then him.

"So you can teleport other people too...," Good to know, you thought, as Alastor laughed.

"Dear, why fight the crowd? I figured it would be easier this way, don't you think?" You returned a nod to him, keeping your mask sharp as the two of you started your way down the block. You realized then you'd have to return tomorrow for your trumpet. But again, that wasn't the most worrying thing on your mind just yet...

You were weary of the entire encounter, but continued to follow the Radio Demon, who seemed a little too hellbent on getting you alone...

[bridoesotherjunk]

I like to think that sometime between Venom 1 and Venom 2, Eddie and Venom sat down and figured out what music is okay to listen to.

Like Eddie going through some of his old CDs and immediately setting any heavy metal or screaming music aside. "It won't kill us, it just hurts," Venom tells him. He's fine with that. He can survive without loud, shrill guitars.

Eventually they find that Venom likes older music, specifically things like swing and jazz and stuff with less electric/synthetic sounding instruments. Venom doesn't mind synthetic stuff, but it becomes obvious to Eddie what Venom prefers.

Maybe someone visits Eddie in his apartment one day while he has the radio on and they're surprised by what he's listening to. Like, "Never pictured you as an oldies fan." And Eddie just has to say some shit like "loud guitars give me a migraine"

I feel like Venom would make Eddie request songs if they ever see people performing live. Venom likes the buzzing of reed instruments, so he makes Eddie stop and listen if there's ever a saxophone player on the street. Eddie complains at first, but by Venom 2 he kinda likes it too.

[firestorm09890]

rambling about the org xiii orchestra art

as someone in an orchestra for real

(from here)

I can’t tell what instrument Larxene has. I thought it was castanets and someone else suggested egg shakers but both are not traditional orchestra instruments so it’s really just weird

neat that both Xaldin and Lexaeus are playing the BIG percussion instruments, and both Axel and Saix are playing woodwinds (harp is a stringed instrument too so i make no comment on the strings)

There’s no [x]ylophone pun unfortunately because those huge tubes indicate that’s actually a marimba both Xion and Roxas are playing. There is however a pun in the fact that it’s a KEYboard instrument. also they’re just adorable

actually I just remembered that instrument names aren’t common knowledge, here they are:

Xemnas is the conductor/orchestra director; Xigbar on saxophone, Luxord on trumpet, and Marluxia on trombone (that’s our brass); Axel on flute and Saix on.... it’s hard to see but I think that’s an oboe (woodwinds); Xaldin on timpani, Lexaeus on bass drum, Larxene on... something??, and Roxas & Xion on marimba (percussion); and then Vexen on harp, Zexion on violin, and Demyx on double bass (strings)

Marluxia why are you holding a flower I know you have an aesthetic but you need both hands to play a trombone

There are 3 main instrument sections (kinda) that are the “obnoxious know-it-all” instruments, stereotyped as generally having a superiority complex over the other sections because they’re soooo important look at meeee carrying the melody: the trumpet for band, the 1st violin for orchestra, and the soprano for voice (and the secret 4th, the flute for woodwinds). With that said, of course Zexion would play violin

And following both that and his Mystery Gear in 358/2 Days, it would have made more sense thematically for Xigbar to be playing the trumpet. however the saxophone is the funny meme instrument so it still works

There is NO WAY Demyx is a double bass player. It’s the only instrument besides percussion that you have to stand up for (though some orchestras do have the bassists sit on stools), and it’s much more work to actually PLAY than the other string instruments, by virtue of being much bigger. they tend to play less than most other stringed instruments, sure, but if you want to be sitting around not doing much you’re best off picking a different instrument entirely, especially since string sections tend to require more unanimity in playing than the brass/woodwinds/percussion since there’s more people playing each part

harps are rare to include in compositions. they’re very nice and melodious though. idk what this says about Vexen

generally there’s not enough percussion players to cover every single instrument which means that Larxene is definitely running around to cover all the small parts (whatever she’s holding, it’s definitely percussion)... actually with Xaldin Lexaeus Roxas and Xion in percussion as well she might not have to but she is the speedy one so

--

I hope what Saix is holding is an oboe and not a clarinet because if it’s an oboe we get some more symbolism, as well as some very nice... dynamic between his instrument and Zexion’s :)

you see, the oboe is the instrument that tunes the entire rest of the orchestra. whatever the oboe’s A sounds like will be the A the ensemble matches. one could say it’s the most important instrument

HOWEVER, the first chair of 1st violin is nominally the most important instrument- that’s the “concertmaster”, and they get to walk on-stage after everyone else (but before the conductor, obviously). they’re also important for real- based on the repertoire they’re basically guaranteed to have at least one solo. they sit at the very front, right next to the conductor. in my orchestra the concertmaster has a little biography in the program along with the conductor’s

there’s actually multiple rounds of tuning- the first couple it’s the oboe doing their thing and the other non-string instruments matching, and then the last round the concermaster matches the oboe, and then the string instruments match the concertmaster.

and that’s all so very interesting, isn’t it

and finally

Xemnas is 100% a garbage conductor. To the audience he looks very cool, doing all his sweeping motions, but it’s impossible to follow as an orchestra member, so you’re really on your own because the conductor is not conducting properly and not giving helpful cues

[freshcuntgrass]

Everyone who likes the kind of 70s-80s music that goes emotionally and narratively hard as fuck (I'm talking Bruce Springsteen, Simon and Garfunkel, the Eagles, Neil Young, all of that) absolutely needs and I mean needs to listen to The Mountain Goats, particularly their newer stuff. If you listen to that music and think "god, nobody is doing it like them anymore" I have great news for you: the Goats are absolutely doing it like them. I don't say this lightly, but John Darnielle is the closest thing we have to an heir to the Boss's throne. He also totes around a god-tier saxophone player but unfortunately I don't know if they kiss on the lips