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rabbitblackx · 1 year

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Hello! How are you?

May I request for Michael, Jason and Brahms with a S/O who is talented musician and likes to play something for them?

I personally play flute and I want to know what would they think about it and how would they react.

If you already done something like this before, that's okay, feel free to ignore it.

Thank you in advance

Have a nice day / night!

Hope u have a good day too! I added Freddy like u asked :)

Slashers with a Musician!Reader

Includes: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger and Brahms Heelshire

Michael Myers💖

Michael often stood in the darkest corner of your room and listened to you play your instrument. Sometimes, you didn’t even know he was there. It was best not to acknowledge him at these times. Because he was a little embarrassed at how much your music moved him. Hearing any teasing from you instantly ruined the moment

After murdering his victims, Michael searched their homes for any instruments for you. He welled up with the tiniest bit of pride when you played the gifts he got you. It was his favourite sound

You were always learning creepy or classy songs for Michael. Any Halloween themes were his go to’s. When he came home grouchy or down, you lightened the mood with a gentle song from your instrument. He stood stiff as a board as you played, mask vacant of any emotion. Underneath it though, Michael was being soothed… and he was grateful to you for that

Jason Voorhees💖

Jason could listen to you play your instrument all day. It was as pretty to him as the birds chirping, or the lake hitting the shore. He lost track of time sitting there in your cabin. You played your instrument for him so beautifully. It was literally the highlight of his day

Jason rummaged through old cabins and junk in search of an instrument for you. They were usually pretty old timey or rusty, but you made it work. You had to. Jason’s happiness was everything to you

You asked Jason of old songs from his childhood, so you could learn to play them. You played a lot of songs from the fifties for just him with your instrument. It really did bring him back to a better time

Although Jason missed the simple life he once lived with his mother, you were a fine substitute. No, that wasn’t the right word. You were better than that. You were his new life

Freddy Krueger💖

Freddy really enjoyed listening to you play your instrument. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, an impressed smirk on his burned face. You had your back to him, mind somewhere else as you became one with your beautiful music. He thought you were just soo cute!

Freddy also found your musical side to be very sexy. He was always asking you to play your instrument, even requesting certain songs. You of course learned them all, and held little concerts for him in your living room!

When you met with Freddy in the dreamworld, he let you play all the music to your heart’s desire. He could spend the entirety of your sleep just jamming out with you

Freddy usually got you to play something slow and sexy on your instrument before you two made love. It really set the mood, you know? Plus, you were so good at it! How could he resist?

Brahms Heelshire💖

Brahms played an instrument too! He loved to play songs with you. It was one of his favourite things to do, like, ever

Brahms found you playing classical music on your instrument hauntingly beautiful. He watched you from the walls as you became one with the beautiful song. He was blind to everything else in that moment, absolutely enthralled by your moonlit form

Brahms snuck out of the walls and into the living room with you. You paid no mind, closing your eyes as you continued to play. He slowly circled around you in the dark, taking in every curve and swell of your body. The slow, alluring music coming from your instrument sent chills down his spine

Brahms was patient. He would wait for your song to be over, and for you to set your instrument down. He’d let the afterglow of your stunning music sit in the air momentarily. Then when you relaxed your shoulders in the dark, he’d pounce

#slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slashers #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #michael myers x reader #michael myers #halloween #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #friday the 13th #freddy krueger x reader #freddy krueger #nightmare on elm street #brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms x reader #rab.reads

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larkkspuur · 4 months

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Pied Piper

ID:

A drawing of Five Nights at Freddy's characters. At the front is William Afton/Spring Bonnie marching and playing a flute, looking at the viewer and smiling. Behind him are the Missing Children, wearing the masks of the animatronics they inhabit. In order, it goes Gabriel, Jeremy, Fritz, Susie, Cassidy, and Charlie. They lean over more the further back they go. They are lit from above, standing on black and white tiled flooring.

END ID

alt version under cut

This piece is incredibly desaturated compared to my normal art so here it is with a full saturation filter for funsies

ID:

The same image as above but all the colors are fully saturated

END ID

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fivenightsatfreddysfanart #fnaf fanart #five nights at freddy's fanart #william afton #spring bonnie #fnaf gabriel #fnaf jeremy #fnaf fritz #fnaf susie #fnaf cassidy #fnaf charlie #fnaf missing children #fnaf william afton #fnaf spring bonnie #Artiver

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the-hottest-band-tournament · 2 days

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Round Two

Queen

Defeated opponents: Green Day

Formed in: 1970

Genres: rock, glam-rock, hard rock, pop-rock, pop, disco

Lineup: Freddie Mercury- vocals

Brian May- guitar

John Deacon- bass

Roger Taylor- drums

Albums from the 80s:

The Game (1980)

Hot Space (1982)

Flash Gordon (1982, movie soundtrack)

The Works (1984)

A Kind Of Magic (1986)

The Miracle (1989)

Propaganda: “HAVE YOU SEEEEN THEMMMM???? these men never lost their looks as they aged. smoking hot 20 somethings to smoking hot 40 somethings. in their own words, "we was glam" and "we were all stunning". all four had impeccable style choices 99% of the time, from leather jackets and wraps to monochrome to undone blazers and ties to brightly coloured /everything/. Deacon changed his hair style every few years and even in just tshirts and booty shorts, never missed. Roger had a sleazy mullet and sunglasses for what felt like forever, hot Persian dad, did not miss. Brian forgot how to fully button shirts. bell bottoms. same hair for 50 years. no misses. even after Freddie got sick and started wearing makeup and had to grow a beard to cover up, MAN NEVER FUCKIN MISSED. he was beautiful to the day he died. and thats not even touching on the leather daddy look from the early 80s.king shit. we love wrinkles and laugh lines in this gd house. if they don't sweep I’m blowing this whole website up we was glam”

“a few years back i was obsessed with these guys and i would find it hard to not have a crush on all of them. in the 80s especially brian was GORGEOUS.. BEAUTIFUL”

Earth, Wind & Fire

Defeated opponents: Midnight Oil

Formed in: 1969

Genres: R&B, pop, funk, post-disco

Lineup: Maurice White - vocals, kalimba, drums, percussion

Verdine White – bass, backing vocals

Philip Bailey – lead vocals, conga, percussion, kalimba

Ralph Johnson – percussion, backing vocals, drums

Roland Bautista - lead/rhythm guitar, vocals

Larry Dunn - keyboards, synthesizers, minimoog

Andrew Woolfolk - flute, saxophone, percussion

Fred White - drums, percussion

Johnny Graham - lead/rhythm guitar, trumpet, percussion

Albums from the 80s:

Faces (1980)

Raise! (1981)

Powerlight (1983)

Electric Universe (1983)

Touch the World (1987)

The Best of Earth, Wind & Fire, vol. 2 (1988)

Propaganda:

Visual propaganda for Queen:

#round 2 #queen #queen band #earth wind and fire #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #roger taylor #maurice white #verdine white #philip bailey #ralph johnson #Roland bautista #Larry dunn #Andrew woolfolk #Fred white #Johnny graham #the hottest 80s band tournament #the hottest 80s band tourney

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projazznet · 2 months

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Oliver Nelson – The Blues and the Abstract Truth

The Blues and the Abstract Truth is an album by American composer and jazz saxophonist Oliver Nelson recorded in February 1961 for the Impulse! label. It remains Nelson’s most acclaimed album and features a lineup of notable musicians: Freddie Hubbard – trumpet Eric Dolphy – alto saxophone; flute Oliver Nelson – tenor & alto saxophone George Barrow – baritone saxophone Bill Evans – piano Paul Chambers – bass Roy Haynes – drums

#olivernelson #tenorsaxophone #hardbop #projazznet

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hooked-on-elvis · 6 days

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"If I Were You" (1971)

Written for Elvis by Gerald Nelson*, Elvis recorded the song on June 8, 1971 at the RCA’s Studio B Nashville. His recording of "If I Were You" was released in the album "Love Letter's From Elvis" on June 16, 1971.

youtube

Guitar: James Burton, Chip Young, Elvis Presley. Bass: Norbert Putnam. Drums: Jerry Carrigan. Piano: David Briggs. Organ & Harmonica: Charlie McCoy. OVERDUBS, Guitar: James Burton. Organ: David Briggs. Percussion: Jerry Carrigan. Percussion & Vibes: Farrell Morris. Steel Guitar: Weldon Myrick. Trumpet: Charlie McCoy, George Tidwell, Don Sheffield, Glenn Baxter. Saxophone: Wayne Butler, Norman Ray. Flute, Saxophone & Clarinet: Skip Lane. Trombone: Gene Mullins. Flute & Trombone: William Puett. Vocals: Mary Holladay, Mary (Jeannie) Green, Dolores Edgin, Ginger Holladay, Millie Kirkham, June Page, Temple Riser, Sonja Montgomery, Joe Babcock, The Jordanaires, The Imperials. Source: elvisthemusic.com

ELVIS, ONE DAY PRIOR TO THE SONG RECORDING: Los Angeles, June 7th 1971

"IF I WERE YOU" LYRICS

The sandman comes to my house late each night But it's way in the morning before he turns out my life It's times like this my darling I can see If I were you I'd know that I love me The great snowman I've been called by all But it looks like this time I'm gonna fall It's times like this my darling I can see Oooh If I were you I'd know that I love me Wind and rain and storm closin' in on me I've walked the streets alone with my self sympathy Can you hear me saying hopefully Oooh If I were you I'd know that I love me Wind and rain and storm closin' in on me I've walked the streets alone with my self sympathy Can you hear me saying hopefully If I were you I'd know that I love me Oooh If I were you I'd know that I love me

Lyricist: Gerald Nelson

* ABOUT THE SONGWRITER: Curiously, "If I Were You" is the only non-soundtrack song Gerald Nelson wrote for the King. According to Nelson, he was asked by Lamar Fike or Freddy Bienstock to write songs for Elvis' movies. Some were chosen and some didn't, naturally. The thing is: given the type of movies Elvis was in, in mid to late 60s, most of the songs Nelson wrote for him had to fulfill a purpose: fit the movie plot. Nelson wrote for Elvis some of the poorest tasted material of the King's music career (needless to say that's on the Hollywood producers), such as the song "Yoga Is As Yoga Does" featured in the soundtrack of the movie "Easy Come, Easy Go" (1967). Even though the songs Gerald Nelson wrote didn't turn out to be (not even close to) greatest hits for Elvis, some had a spotlight of their own, like "Clambake" and "Double Trouble", both title tracks to those 1967 films mentioned.

There's an interview with Gerald Nelson I found in an Elvis Forum. He speaks about what he thinks of the songs he wrote for EP, a little bit about the recording sessions and his reason why he chose to release an album with the demos he taped to send to Elvis' staff.

I thought it might be fun to put together a CD of the original demonstration recordings of songs that I wrote for Elvis Presley. Some he recorded, some he didn’t. He was such a good friend and I respected his friendship so much that I never ask him to record any of my work. Lamar Fike or Freddy Beanstalk put those that he did in his hands. Usually they would send me a script and say: ”Write something for this movie”. For the most part that was either fun or insane. Gerald Nelson, lyricist READ THE FULL 2010 INTERVIEW HERE

In 2003, Gerald Nelson released the album "Songs I Wrote for Elvis" in which demos of the songs he wrote for the King are presented. Below, the demo records of the song “If I Were You”, sung by Gerald Nelson.

youtube

If you'd like to hear the FULL ALBUM to find out which songs Nelson wrote for Elvis or wonder how the King would sound in the ones he didn't, here's a playlist on Youtube.

#elvis presley #elvis history #elvis music #if i were you #gerald nelson #1971 #love letters from elvis #elvis #70s elvis #elvis fans #i was here minding my business and this song started playing #i was like 'this is such a good song'... and then i had to research on it and what I learn... oh boy #i love this #i love stumbling upon information I didn't know I needed but I certainly appreciate #elvis the king #Youtube

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zedecksiew · 5 months

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Whirling Mummy One-shot

(Art by Sam Mameli)

Have been deathly ill for most of this month, with barely the focus to do anything. So I've been in the dumps.

Last Wednesday I ran a one-shot for my regular TTRPG group, just to feel like I could do something---anything. I didn't have much of a voice. Just a low rasp. So all my characters that night were kinda husky, sultry folks, the kind you might find in a bar.

Apopros to the game, I suppose. I ran the Whirling Mummy, a dance-hall adventure I created for Prismatic Wastelands' ENNIE-winning bar-crawl campaign setting, Barkeep On The Borderlands:

THE WHIRLING MUMMY Madam Smiling is the never-seen proprietress of The Whirling Mummy, an undead-themed dance hall, named after Madam Smiling's ancient, still-animate consort. + Before the Keep, before goblins lived in caves – a goddess cursed a king to dance. He danced all night, he danced all season. He danced and he died. They buried him dancing. He danced in his tomb of jade mosaic. A quake split the Iron Fens, and cracked his tomb, and spat him out dancing. Tonight, in the mummy's honour: a dance-off! Various crews compete to win their hearts' desire. There has never been a wish Madam Smiling could not grant.

+++

Got my players to make characters using Barkeep's evocative background packages. The party:

Frederick the Foppish Dandy, with a big hat, dueling pistol, and a wealthy fiance called Giorgio ("Georgie!");

Alejandra the Ebullient Dancer, with a tambourine, vial of poison, and her patron the noble chanteuse Lady Gaga;

Melan the Troubled Musician, with a flute, a cymbal-playing pet monkey, and a broken heart.

Serendipitously appropriate, for an adventure featuring a dance contest!

Melan decides they have history with Kril Mouser, leader of the club's musicians.

Ironically, Alejandra spends her whole night off the podium, gassing up the crowd to win over their support.

Frederick ("Freddie!") plays out a rivalry with one of competing dance crews: a trio of voguing toffs.

Freddie ends up being the night's star dancer. "This is the kind of music Frederick plays in his room," his player says:

youtube

+++

I rolled a new event for every turn / round of the dance-off, for maximum shenanigans:

A skeleton flapper loses her head on the dance floor. The Dancer turns that skull into a ball the cheering crowd can bounce around. Poor skelly!

A gang of electric-lute-wielding bards storm Kril Mouser's band stage in an attempt to take it over. Melan spends the round fighting them off, earning the musicians' favour. (Alejandra throws her skeleton skull, knocking a bard out.)

A paladin raid on the club for illegal necromancy. This coincides with the last round of the dance-off; Freddie is too drunk to continue, so Melan takes the stage, and duels Master Mocking Of A Million Eyes, the peacock demon and final boss.

Melan's player describes their dance as "Lizzo with a flute, but while performing a Celine-Dion-like ballad".

This means they beat an eldritch horror with a combination of this:

and this:

youtube

Nice.

+++

So the party won the dance-off. They are entitled to wishes from Madam Smiling.

Frederick asks to be the richest person in the world;

Alejandra wants to retroactively swap places with her patron Lady Gaga;

Melan selflessly asks for land back for the indigenous lizardfolk. (The industrial district in which the Whirling Mummy sits used to belong to the lizard-people; there were lizard nuns handing out pins outside the club.)

I was very pleased with this game. I think it was my first successful, self-contained one-shot? We played for about three hours, and I felt buoyed by endorphins after.

I love my players. Thank you Am, Ai and Vesha for playing with me; you have kept my love for this game stuff alive.

I lost my voice again, the next day.

+++

Final scene, one year later:

Melan is the opening act for a concert by Lady Alejandra, in a city ruled by Prince Frederick the First.

All of this happens a continent away; the city in which Barkeep is set has been totally erased. A trade agreement has been signed with the lizardfolk queendoms, however---and ambassadors report an incongruous-looking dance hall, in the middle of the marsh.

Inside, it is said, a mummy in jade shoes endlessly dances. Inside, it is said, a dance contest is held, and its prize is whatever your heart desires.

#fantasies #ttrpgs #barkeep on the borderlands #the whirling mummy #dancing #play reports

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21stcenturyschizoidfag · 7 months

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A generous nobleman by the name of Frederick has been spotted hosting week-long classes for those interested in learning the flute. call that Fife Nights at Freddy's

#PLEASE LAUGH PLEASE PLEWSE #averyposting #fnaf

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inlocusmads · 4 months

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chosen family ~ trystan thorne (crimes of passion)

Wc: 3k, teen+, strong language

Summary: One does not simply ask their friends how to go about a drastic career change. Unfortunately, Trystan doesn't receive the memo.

A/n: Written for @choicesjanuary2024, prompt for day 27: "Explore a character’s path to enlightenment as they embark on a journey toward self-discovery and understanding." Banner cred: jack forrest on behance

2016

“Dude, I am telling you, Todd’s gonna blow his audition, he’ll come back whining and take up the job. You’re just going to have to give him some time to know he’s a shit actor.”

Trystan laughed, wiping off the crumbs from the corner of his mouth. “That is so mean, man.”

Monty shrugged, handing him a straw for his soda. “See? Even the prince agrees.”

“Nah, I don’t believe it.” Lee said, hunching over the kitchen counter, while he waited for the oven to finish baking the bread. “The market’s pretty soft for anybody with brown hair.”

“That’s weirdly specific. What market have you been watching?”

“No, dude, like -- you know the other day, they had a casting call poster and they were handing that stuff out to the people in the ice cream shop. It’s like this - y’know how there’s this -- huge requirement for uh, reality show models and stuff - how news companies don’t hire people who aren’t blonde, shit like that. Brunette is the new blonde these days, y’know? And god bless if you’re a natural one at that.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“All I’m saying is, Todd’s got a good chance. As equal as those freaks from drama schools.”

“You think I have a shot, Lee?” Trystan asked, toying with his can of soda.

“Man, you’re already famous. It’s like asking one of the Kardashians to star in a fingernail commercial.”

“Nail polish.”

“No, I’m pretty sure they can sell fingernails.” Monty put on his best Valley accent. “I have been using Freddy’s Fingernails like, for as long as I can like, even remember.”

“Todd does impressions the best.” Lee informed Trystan.

“Jeez, go marry him or something.”

“I don’t think I want to be an actor.” Trystan shrugged. “Where would I start?”

“Playing mafia roles. They’re definitely looking for someone with a Russian accent these days. Or Italian. Italian’s pretty hot too.” Monty said, as he wiped the edges of the counter. “I have seen so many kids sitting at those very tables memorizing lines for advertisements. Ads are pretty wacky too, man. Anyway, it’s about fake it till you make it. I had one of my good friends, Dee who had a pretty short lived modeling career and was suggested to do some voice-acting because he had this uber-fake British accent. Dude actually spent three whole days on Youtube trying to learn a British accent and fooled the casting panel into thinking he was actually some dude from England.”

“I hope he succeeded.”

“Nah they didn’t take him after they learned he lied. Rookie mistake, you know? Trystan, my good friend, if you’re ever applying for a job, forge your birth certificates. Always.”

“Will do.” Trystan threw a two-finger salute his way. “Or you know - I could actually get a job here.”

“Pfft-”

“I am actually good at chopping.”

“With what? Gold knives with a flute of wine and cheese by your side, in case you get hungry?” Monty scoffed.

“I will pay you two hundred dollars.”

“To hire you?”

“Think about the publicity.”

“Okay, okay-” Lee interjected. “This is not some hobby, dude. Sandwich-making is an art form. People don’t come in here for just the thin slices of toasted bread, cuts of deli meat, special Himalayan chili sauce with a side of fries. No, they come in here for the experience. You’ve never seen something quite revolutionary like this. Yo-- wait, I’ll write this down.”

“Two hundred dollars everyday.”

“We will think about it.” Lee said.

“Nah, no - what if some economic shit happens again? Like you know the uh, dollar to whatever-currency-you-guys-operate-back-in-Palacetopia?”

“Drakovia, but go on.”

“Inflation. Economic crash. Wall Street babaganoush.”

“Did you not tell me you minored in economics?”

“The point is, princey, the answer’s no. What if the money’s uh -- worthless or something, in like a hundred years?” Monty shrugged, as he grabbed a potato and peeled it. It was a new recipe under reception. Stuffed potato, baked and served with condiments around it and on top. A revolutionary alternative to salads, bowls and just about any starchy sandwich. Trystan watched with boredom as Lee tried to explain economics to him - occasionally pausing to express his disappointment (“How do you even pay rent with that knowledge?”) and encouraging Trystan’s offer.

It was his favorite restaurant anyway - Paul’s was as welcoming as a grandmother who’d be tired of everyone’s bullshit and would much rather have you not knock at her door. Monty and Lee became fast friends; they didn’t mind Trystan being a celebrity or anything, considering Monty said he’d seen George Lucas near a coffee shop once and almost rented a place next to a diner that was frequented by Lady Gaga. Although those claims were widely disputed, Trystan didn’t mind this refreshing inattention for once.

Sure, he was in the press a couple hundred times and charged with murder at the age of 22, but hey, Lee had done some wild shenanigans too. Such as cutting in line and smacking a person across their cheek, getting into table fights in the pub and spending a night in the local jail. Everything went on as usual, anyway, at least at Paul’s. There could be a national emergency that very second and they’d still be selling sandwiches and complaining about their landlords. A storm, a tsunami, a full blown out nuclear war and they’d be flipping coins over who gets put on bathroom duty.

“I think I may have run into a technical problem. If I’m going to be stuffing a whole-ass potato in a sandwich, I might have to cut it up.”

“Hand it over.” Trystan insisted, wiping the crumbs on his jacket.

“All right. Don’t mess up your pretty hands though.”

Lee punched Monty at the shoulder, hissing, “What are you doing?”

“He wanted chopping duty so I gave him chopping duty.”

“Contrary to popular beliefs, Lee, cooking is a basic human skill, like say learning to write or read-” Trystan set the peeled potato and aimed his knife at an angle. He cut across thin vertical slices - the shape of fries - optimal for a sub and across its breadth to make it more bite-sized.

“I thought all you guys did in Drakovia was dressing up as vampires, doing a bunch of skull rituals and be all -- creepy and shit.”

“Oh yeah we do all of that.”

“Really?”

“He’s making fun of you, Monty.” Lee shook his head.

“Drink pig’s blood-- dress like erm-- what is that store in America which sells all of those creepy, ghoulish things? Hot Topic, ah yes. They sponsored my kicking-out ceremony, by the way. We all drank the juice of giraffe’s tentacles - our expert DNA scientists managed to fuse a giraffe with an octopus - and ceremonially chopped off my head before gluing it back again. Seriously, Monty, I would expect better from an economics graduate. I can chop a potato. In fact -- there is this really beautiful dish from home that incorporates all of these things. Wait, let me remember it-”

“Not to burst your bubble, Your Highness, but we can’t really afford putting up a whole extra fusion cuisine on the menu.”

“Why not?”

“There’s dedicated restaurants for that stuff that ordinary chumps like us can’t compete with.”

“You could try something. It is not like you are getting anywhere with this --” he pointed nonchalantly at the one singular menu card they had for the whole place. “Here is a thought - why don’t I come up with nice, easy recipes? Something to draw in some crowd, you know?”

“The people who dine here aren’t exactly SoHo-rich, Trys.”

“Yeah, we’re lucky if we can keep the cops from the local precinct coming in. That’s why our egg sandwiches sell so well on Mondays. We can’t afford to topple up the menu entirely, ‘cuz it’s like uh-- it’s like we model what we serve after what sells well. More like a ‘Dish of the Day’ type thing, y’know? Demand’s pretty less. People just want to eat the same thing over and over again, yeah?”

“You could try introducing a bit of variety in this subtle, nuanced way whilst keeping the familiarity of the dish intact.”

“We aren’t trying to feed dogs their multivitamins, bruv. To hide asparagus and shit in like -- I dunno, eggs or something. But you know what? We’ll give you a shot.” Monty decided on his own, which should greatly piss off Lee but he didn’t seem that bothered with hiring Trystan as an intern recipe-developer. “If you can come up with something that’s quick to make, cheap and can sell like crack, we’ll take it.”

“Or I could just give you the money.”

“As if Monty’s going to make things that easy for you.” Lee shook his head.

“Nah, nah, no, we aren’t accepting donations. This isn’t a charity. This is a goddamn restaurant with self-respect and shit -- oh damn, those are some neat potatoes. I'll take it all back. You’ve got some sick skills.”

“Why don’t you come on over and help us out with the bell peppers tomorrow?”

“I dunno - I might have a thing after this other thing-”

“You can pay us.”

“Gentlemen, you have a deal.”

“Some of us would kill to get some rest and look at this guy, eager to work and stuff. Is this a Communism thing?” Monty poked at the potatoes, before moving onto clearing up a pan and mounting it on the stove.

“Jesus Christ, Monty. Do me a favor and stop talking.” Lee scowled.

“You know, it is not exactly a bad question--” Trystan said, as he took his plate up to the sink behind the counter to give it a thorough wash. “I have thought about work, you know? All this time, it has just been this rat-race to get me to coronation day, but I have never really had this normal life where I could just do things at my pace with control of the quality of its outcomes. Might be a pretentious way of saying I am yet to have my Little Mermaid moment, with the whole growing legs and exploring the world quest, but yes, I think my idea of reflection and rest- or at least, some of my best ideas come from not lounging around and throwing a ball at the wall.”

“Get a cat and a laser-pointer. You’d never be bored. Also, dude, this is like the bottom-barrel of all jobs. You could totally be some actor guy.”

“I bleached my hair recently.”

“And a hack job at that.” Lee got on his tiptoes. “Looks like some guy vomited all over your head. But Monty’s not wrong. You’d be a shit actor without any formal training - or so the industry makes you think experience is everything.”

“That’s all the industries, Lee.”

“The point is, you could still look for something. Tons of people are famous for just being famous.”

“No, no-” Trystan shook his head. “I am not Paris Hilton’ing my way out of this. What do you think about writing?”

“Easier to have people write about you and get everything wrong than to have you write all the right things and not have people read it.” Monty shrugged. When he heard silence, he looked up from the pan of oil burning the fingers of potatoes and shrugged, again - “Read somewhere in a magazine or something, I don’t know. I mean -- isn’t that what they do, anyway? The tabloids?”

“Yeah, you lost me there, bud.” Lee shut him up quickly, shaken that his friend could say something so profound and controversial and not ruin it with a sarcastic joke. “Art historians get paid by the dozen, I heard.”

“I do have interest in art and history, but not so keen to make a career out of it. Maybe I should do something really ridiculous and run a circus. Embrace the clownery. Be the best buffoon I can be.”

“What’s with you two pulling off this existential shit?” Lee grumbled, as he took out the pizza from the oven to take home.

“Something was in the sandwich I ate.”

“Pepper, salt, spice mix and dread.” Monty howled from the other side of the kitchen.

“I love me some good old dread!”

“My man’s one of us now!” he chuckled, walking up to them. “Yo, you should do the funniest possible thing and --” the snark from his tone faded into something serious - “- do community college. Seriously. Everyone expects some guy dressed in Barney gear in their language arts class, but nobody -- nobody expects a former crown prince to walk up with a number two pencil to figure out their career. Not too late to get into law school too. Funniest possible thing you can ever do, you know? Uh -- bonus if you get one of those really specific t-shirts.”

“That is not entirely a bad idea.”

“You could do politics and stuff man.” Lee suggested.

“I have always been more of an Introduction To Pokemon and Subsequent Analysis of Its Impact 101 kind of guy.”

“Lee, stop ruining his career choices.” Monty elbowed his friend’s arm. “You are doing something right, princey.”

“I know, Pikachu is clearly the -- erm-- baton-holder for the next generation. A true inspiring idol for all of us.” Trystan agreed, as he took his seat on the high stool- watching Lee and Monty finish up their pre-requisites for the night to prepare for a busy tomorrow. “I have no idea who Pikachu is, by the way. Would it be possible to start a Youtube channel?”

“Breaking my silence on the coronation- not clickbait.”

“It’s a little too ambitious. Let’s start small.”

“You literally wanted me to send out an application for drama school not two minutes ago. I kept count, Lee. Not the minutes, but -- you get the idea.”

“I never said that, but you definitely should send out an application. Who knows? There might be a call for some dude who fucked up his hair with boxed bleach and like, the production could take a while - just enough time for your roots to grow back.”

“Get frosted tips and a Food Network show. Boom. Profit.” Monty punctuated his words by stabbing a spatula at the air with every passing syllable.

“Or--” Lee leaned against the counter, folded arms as if he were sitting his son, Trystan down for a birds-and-the-bees lecture. “You could really do something impactful. Right the wrongs, you know? With your influence and wealth, you could actually rectify a lot of flawed systems. You needn’t get into politics, but instead try and offer help to people who say, have been let down by the law enforcement. I know you’ve had tricky run-ins with them in the past and it goes to show how the whole -- conceptual conception-- words, words, words here, deserves a voice of reason. And not a lot of people can afford to do that. You can. Or at least, you can try.”

“Hold your horses, Mr President.” Monty paused. “What do you want to do, Trystan?”

“I dunno. The cat and laser pointer thing sounds really fun. Definitely helps me get off all the hit lists.”

“You’re on hit lists? Sweet. Also, yes, super fun. Orange tabbies - best rascals ever. I think the pet center nearby has some dudes up for adoption. Dogs and frisbees too - best. Get a German Shepherd and they’ll fuck up any one who dares to breathe near you within a two-foot radius.”

“Great, all sorted then.”

“I did not expect this conversation to go this way.” Lee threw a towel over his shoulder.

“Heck nah, nobody wants to get their brain fried trying to move up a ladder with missing steps. You know the rung you’re on and you know that exists. Nothing good comes out of skipping a rung and plummeting to your certain death.”

“Clearly we all have experiences of trying to move up and fucking it up-- What? I am not allowed to swear?”

Lee blinked like a deer staring wide-eyed at the headlights of a speeding truck. Monty gave him a toothy grin of approval. “You know what you’ve always wanted. Sneaky bastard.”

“Chopping is very relaxing, by the way.” Trystan offered them a knowing smirk, full of hopeful expectations. “So much can be done with just six precise cuts.”

“You’re persistent. Fine. You may contribute.”

“But this is no shiny-new-toy of the month, yeah?” Lee raised his knife midst sharpening it across a board. “You do this and show your commitment and sheer will and not just because-- apparently cutting these days, is the new purchasing-Dolce-and-Gabbana.”

“Oh man, we’re going to have so much fun.” Monty gave Trystan a fist-bump who returned it with a bit of confusion as to whether it was a high-five or not. “I mean, pissing off Lee is the only requirement.”

“I can kick you out, Monty. I’m already covering your portion of the rent for three months in a row.”

“He’s just jealous I have a new friend-- you’re just jealous!” Monty called out, to which Lee responded with a stabbing motion, as he disappeared far into the kitchen. “Yeah, totally jealous. Anyway, 9AM sharp, princey. Just because you’re exiled and your family hates you, there’s no exception. I mean, my family hates me and I’m still on the S Train by 7. Also, no Chardonnay bottles. Wear comfortable shoes. Get a hairnet. More instructions will follow. Also, this is like -- an interning thing- plus, we’re broke and we’d gladly take any free help, so you know. No pay, but we’ll cover drinks should there be a free Saturday that the Gods of Pardon-These-Clowns might grant.”

“Cannot wait to get started, man. When do the busboys get informed of a new addition to the Paul’s family? Or should we introduce ourselves?”

Monty glared at him.

“I am kidding! Kidding! So that is definitely a no on the gloves, right?”

“You are the suckiest, most pretentious guy I have ever met and thought about hiring. You’re a perfect fit for the job."

***

A/N: I HC Trystan made a lot of old friends in his exile period but at present doesn't talk to them as often as he should. I'd expect Monty to eventually quit being a cook and have enough funds to support himself through a certification course or some kind of education and Lee to maybe save up money to actually, professionally go through culinary school and get to work with top chefs. Todd's well, he's trying lol. He'll keep trying to become the next big star or something.

I hope to include more of Lee and Monty in any post-exile, pre-canon fics I write, which is pretty great because coming up with new characters has become a crippling addiction lmao.

Thank you so much for reading!

Tagging:

perma: @quixoticdreamer16 @tessa-liam @stars-are-within-me

crimes: @trappedinfanfiction @ao719 @cassie-thorne @peonierose @moominofthevalley @jerzwriter

#crimes of passion #crimes of passion fics #w:inlocusmads #trystan thorne x mc #trystan thorne #choices january challenge

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