#me: wants to be an orchestral musician

[hazzabeeforlou]

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#hey guys I’m about to go to work but I’ve seen so many lovely tag comments on my harp covers #I saw one saying ‘how do you even end up in a position to be able to learn a harp!’ #and I wanted to reiterate. the classical music world is incredibly steeped in classism and racism. it’s inherent #because most music is written by ethnic Europeans and stems from the origins of western music which is the Catholic Church #it was a major tool in colonialism and it’s adoption as a means to validity in a white supremecist system can be seen echoing in China’s #current fascination with western orchestral music. but they’re also subverting it by reimagining their own instruments in the orchestra #anyways that’s a rabbit trail but what I’m saying is #for some reason I asked to play the harp when I was three. my parents were working class and non musicians. my dad is Mexican. we used to #barter lessons for yard work and painting (thankfully my harp teacher was a wonderful woman who allowed that) #my dad took out a home equity loan to afford my first large harp #I got the one you see in the vids because a close friend of my teacher was dying of cancer and sold it at a loss to me #this is a field with SO many barriers #every single person I went to grad school with had money out their ears #I have a heap of student loans and currently no permanent harp job #I guess I’m saying. I wish access to instruments like mine was easier for everyone but it’s rare because it’s gatekept #so just keep that in mind. you could just have easily have been a harpist if the world were more equitable and fair #I’m always open to people reaching out and asking questions about the instrument and music in general #love u guys

[cowyolks]

TO DULL THE SHOVELS & SMOKE

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Prompt: In which Simon Riley doesn’t hear the gunshots and yells when he’s around his next door neighbor.

Words: 4.2k

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of gore, mentions of torture based on the Ghost comics, drinking, major PTSD.

At first, it annoyed him.

The thin walls of his Manchester apartment blocked absolutely no sound. From one end, near his desolate kitchen, he heard the half-arsed sounds of a couple at all hours of the night. At the other end, nearly midnight on the dot, a bow would pull over strings.

He thought it to be a violin, but the sound was so horrendous and screeching that he couldn’t quite figure it out. Never less, he couldn’t find it in himself to move from the spot on his hard mattress.

It wasn’t like he could sleep anyways.

Gunshots bled into his ears warm and sticky, curses and cries of civilians slammed against his chest and made his eyes feel like sinking weights. Bombs screeched and blinded him, even though he could see the shadows of his wardrobes and chipped wallpaper.

He was there. On the battlefield.

That was until a particularly awful note would catch his ears, digging through all the horrible sounds of war.

It would make the corners of his lips perk up, especially when he heard the gentle curse of the “musician.” He figured horrible orchestral music would do rather than gunshots. He even managed to acquire at least an hour of sleep before he was stirred awake again by the sounds of death.

He’d wake up as he always did. A horrific grunt and a call for his teammates. It was pathetic, but the usual. Simon couldn’t recall the last time he woke up refreshed. He hadn’t slept well in decades, even his childhood was thrashed with harassment from his father who kept him up. He maybe had a couple good nights of rest as a recruit, while his brother and mother were still alive and his father was long gone festering in the hospital with cancer.

Still he was used to the dark circles under his eyes and the constant urge to yawn.

He’d gone about his civilian life as he usually did. Wake up in a sweat, take a cold shower, drink some breakfast tea, and watch the news. That was until three knocks sounded from his door chipping green paint. He had half the mind to ignore it, Simon didn’t know anyone around the area— After all, he was a Ghost. He chewed on his lip, If it was a threat they wouldn’t have knocked. He settled on placing his steaming mug on the wooden side table and huffing to stand. Curiosity won him over as his creaky joints shuffled its way over to the door.

He creaked it open only a couple inches, cautiously glancing around to see no one in the hallway. Scratching his five o’clock shadow, he blinked, feeling slightly paranoid that maybe he was imaging the knocking. That was until his dark eyes settled upon a half open box of what looked to be tea bags.

A note lay scotch taped to the front, written in the most interesting handwriting Simon had seen.

Heard the screams, I won’t pretend to know what it’s like. I figured you wouldn’t want me to pester you, so I’ll save you from the awkward small talk and leave these here. Not sure if you’re a tea person, but they help me sleep.

-your next door neighbor

He couldn’t find himself to move for a short while. His brain clashed in conflicts, as if he couldn’t settle on a single emotion to feel. It swarmed him at once— annoyance, embarrassment, gratitude.

His neighbor had took time out of their day to drop tea off at his door. He tried to think back to when the last time someone had done something genuinely nice for him. Besides his makeshift family of broken soldiers, he couldn’t think of a single occurrence. Zeroing in on the box, a twitch in his nose gave away his reluctance of the flavor. Lavender and Chamomile. So different than his simple breakfast tea.

But, it wouldn’t hurt to try it. Maybe then he’d be able to silently thank the mysterious neighbor for a good night of sleep.

He figured out who you were when he’d exited the shaky and completely unsafe lift onto his floor. In the crook of his arm he carried a brown paper sack full of his weekly groceries. It wasn’t the most fanciful of ingredients, the most extravagant being simple cuts of chicken breasts. He’d shoved the bag further into his grasp, reaching into his dark colored jeans for his room key when he heard your muffled curse.

You were hunched over your doorknob, pulling helplessly on the metal to unlock it. Hurriedly he changed his footfalls, switching from silent to knowingly hitting the creaks in the aged carpet. Your head tilted at the unpleasant noise, eyes widening in embarrassing anticipation.

It took Simon a moment to truly access the situation. It was as if his brain had slammed into a wall, colliding and knocking all of his thoughts astray. When he finally did come to his senses, the only thought he could repeat was— pretty.

Simon would be the first to admit that he had not been around many women in his life. Therefore, he didn’t have much to draw comparisons to—regardless you had to be the most beautifully unique person he had ever seen.

You wore a knitted sweater, likely homemade by the barely noticeable tears of threads and flaws. His eyes filtered down to your jeans, then his attention drew to the absolutely ridiculous socks clad to your feet and ankles. Bright purple, decorated with pink polka dots. He’d glanced up, embarrassingly distracted enough to not be able to listen to your moving lips.

“Hmm?” He grunted, thankful for his black surgical mask that covered half of his face. He felt secure being covered, as if all the bad things couldn’t penetrate through the flimsy material.

“Oh! Sorry for mumbling,” you apologized, which made Simon’s head tilt to the side. Why apologize for his lack of hearing?

You cleared your throat, releasing the doorknob from your hands and instead twisting them together in a nervous habit. It seemed you could hardly sit still, all in the span of thirty seconds Simon caught on to your spastic fingers and tapping foot.

“I don’t suppose you know how to pick a lock?” You squeaked, instantly cringing at the horribly put together question.

“Excuse me?” Simon spoke, a hint of surprised amusement coating his tongue. Of course he knew how to break into buildings and pick locks, but you didn’t need to know that.

“I uh, locked myself out of my apartment. I forgot my purse and I keep my keys in there. I was just in a rush for food before my favorite place closes, and well— I’m rambling.” You sputtered, looking like it would be a better option to break through your door than stand under his burning stare.

He didn’t expect himself to extend towards you, settling his bag of groceries on the floor near his door. You slid out the way as he approached, not before he caught a pleasant whiff of lavender and something floral.

Simon shuffled in the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a floss pick from the material. Call it his nagging habit, but he hated having shit in his teeth. He wasn’t used to eating or drinking with his balaclava on at work, so on the rare occasions he ate, it absolutely irritated him. Now the floss pick came in handy as he bent the hard plastic to fit into the lock of your door.

He was aware of your stare as he lay crouched, catching the puzzled yet intrigued look from his peripherals.

“Are you some type of cop?” You blurted, making Simon’s lips peek up in a half arsed amusement. A cop? This girl was funny.

“No,”

With a final click, your door creaked open with a whine of its hinges. He rose off the old carpet with a sigh, immediately going back to his groceries so he could be left in his solitude. Then before he could reach down and pick up the bag, your words cut him short.

“Thank you. Um… did you like the tea?” It was a simple question, but not one he was expecting. “It was alright.” He lied, the untouched box still rested on his cold countertops.

“You didn’t like it did you?” You chuckled, reading right through him. All he gave was a shrug of his shoulders, not confirming nor denying. “I knew it. You probably drink your tea black and food bland.” You teased lightheartedly, making an equally playful offended sound fall from Simon’s lips. It occurred to him that he’d smiled more in these last five minutes than he had in a whole year.

“It’s only for mature palates.” He heard himself joke, nearly shocked at his own behavior.

“Sure…” You introduced yourself at last, finally able to have a name to your face. “Simon,” he only thought it fair to state his own. Although it sounded weird coming off his lips instead of the usual introductory Ghost.

“Well Simon, if you’re ever on Bakers Street, there’s a Korean Barbecue place that is delicious. Now that’s real food. I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow since I pulled this stunt. And thanks again!” You smiled, an awkward wave marking your goodbye.

Simon nodded and entered his dark flat, once again drawn into his own mind and the sound of warfare.

He made sure, a few days later to pay you back for your kind words and the disgusting tea. He knocked on your door, hurriedly rushing back to his own and out of sight, hoping the white takeout box of barbecue would make your evening.

He had a particularly rough morning on an autumn rainy day. The chill of the air and racket of raindrops on the window was enough to startle him awake. He was reminded of the cold chill of Russia, as well as the raindrops hitting way too similar to the sound of bullets. It nerved him, nearly taking him several minutes to be able to breathe properly again.

He’d done what his therapist had mentioned, pinpointing colors, sounds, and textures.

Yellowing wallpaper, humming ventilation, scratchy blanket.

Gray clouds, rattling ceiling fan, his own warm skin.

With a sigh, he curled his palm over his eyes, rubbing away the awful reoccurring night terrors, and settling for getting dressed. He wore the simple clothes he always did, black hoodie, jeans, and boots. Simple, yet effective.

He grew rather sick of the walls of his apartment. The plaster suffocated him, the air suddenly too stuffy. For a short moment he was stuck in that coffin again, maggots wriggling at his flesh and the scent of rotten meat flooding his nostrils.

He stood suddenly, attempting to calm himself. He was in Manchester, he was standing. Something he couldn’t do in a coffin. It was a shitty autumn day with rain battering his window sill. He wasn’t in the desert, he wasn’t half dead. He was here.

He let his body lead him out the door with no destination. All his mind happened to scream was out, out, out.

He’d barely been able to grab the door handle and twist, fingers shaking in such a pathetic way it had him wrinkling his nose. He was underwater, shoved into the bucket as they held him under, making him lose his breath and weakly fight.

No he was here. Manchester! In Manchester.

“Simon?”

He was suddenly lifted up, finally able to push the freezing water out of his lungs and suck down oxygen. His head swiveled weakly to you, eyes likely looking dead and cold.

You were dressed warm. A coffee-colored sweater swaddling your form and a burnt orange cardigan hanging from your shoulders as well. You wore typical jeans and slip-ons, but bright orange knitted socks peaked from your jeans. They were even littered with pumpkins and leaves designs. 

He hummed in your acknowledgment, letting himself worry about his breathing once again. Colors, sounds, textures.

Orange Cardigan, your slow breathing, soft knitted socks.

“Are you okay?” You’d squeaked, barely audible over his massive heaving breathes. He instinctively nodded his head, knowing that if he showed any sign of weakness he’d be terminated. That’s how it’s been since he was four years old, being terrified of his father but not being able to express such fear.

“You know, it’s okay to not be okay.” You read right through him. Taking an inching step towards him. He said nothing, still shocked that you hadn’t left in a disgusted manner. He was weak and terrifyingly broken, and yet your sweet gaze never broke into pity.

Orange cardigan, quiet steps, smooth skin against his wrist.

He’d instantly felt relief from the lack of stinging pressure against his palm. Not realizing he’d been digging his nails into the calloused flesh, causing angry red crescents to print into his skin.

“Would you like a tea? I was about to go to the place across the street?”

His mind screeched no. He wanted so badly to be alone. To break something, to laugh as he bloodied his knuckles. He also wanted to shield his too pleasant neighbor from his violent tendencies. To keep her from him, to protect her. But his cold and dead heart managed to thaw and break all in one. The vile organ spoke for him as he found his head bobbing, lungs sucking in a big breath.

“M’kay.” He mumbled, following after your sweet lavender perfume down the lift like a sickly bloodhound.

He’d followed like a shell, hardly memorizing the turns and passing civilians until he was blasted with warm air from a cozy little cafe. He was slammed with comfort instantly, thrown back into the present world instead of the bloodied one he was used to seeing in his mind.

String lights hung above your head, illuminating your warm skin and kind smile. You’d ushered him to sit in the far corner, the leather booth squishy and comfortable. Simon had tuned into the fluttering orchestra of some jazz band, relaxing his bones and tired muscles only slightly.

Golden lights, swaying music, brewing coffee.

He startled when a thick paper cup slid in front of him, the fresh scent of breakfast tea relaxing him further, among with the smiling face blinking at him.

“Got your favorite, bland breakfast tea.” You quipped, taking a sip of your own lavender fruity tea. He let a soft grin cross his lips, pushing the invasive thoughts away while you were with him. “I told you it was an exquisite taste, you drink tea for a child.”

A bubbly laugh escaped you, making Simon freeze in pure awe. He’d never heard something so beautiful, a real authentic laugh. One that he caused.

“You should try it.” You eased, pushing your cup towards him with amusement. Simon’s eyes managed to squint in disgust, glancing down at the odd beverage.

His hand fit around the paper material, warmth meeting his fingers as he brought it carefully up to his scarred lips. The taste was sugary, but floral and rich at the same time. His tongue retreated away, and instantly he swallowed it like it was burning alcohol.

“I don’t like it.”

This tea perfectly matched your personality. Bubbly, overly sweet, and calming like the essence of lavender under his tongue. He’d rather have you than the tea.

“Well what do you like, oh mysterious neighbor?” You chuckled, taking back your tea with a happy grin. His dislike hadn’t irked you at all, instead you seemed more intrigued than before. As if he was enough to quirk your interest.

“Football.”

“Man United?”

He nodded.

“I’m a Liverpool fan.” You sighed, a guilty and mischievous grin passing over your lips.

“That’s more disgusting than that tea!” He growled out, a chuckle breaking through his chest at your lit up face.

“Yeah? What’s your favorite food or drink then? If you’re so quick to bash my tea!” You bickered back, happily noticing his shoulders relaxing and eyes softening.

“One of my Sergeants lives in Glasgow, he frequents at this pub with the best fry up you’d ever eat.”

“Breakfast in a pub?” You questioned, taking a sip of your tea again.

“Best hangover medicine.”

You’d scoffed, hiding your smile between your empty cup. Simon was surprised just how easy it was to talk to you. Here he was, just a man having a tea with a woman. Perhaps even a date? He didn’t have to worry about following orders or barking protocol to privates. Here he could be Simon, the man under the mask and war paint. It was… nice.

“So you’re in the military. That makes sense why I haven’t seen you over the last couple months.” You observed, but didn’t push. You were hanging the metaphorical bait, but he didn’t have to bite it if he didn’t want to.

He nodded, simple enough to confirm, but not enough to feel exposed.

“Well Simon, I have a train to catch. I’m going into Liverpool to see my Mum.” You explained, offering a polite smile.

“Sure.” He mumbled, watching you shuffle to leave the booth. “We should do this again sometime, it was nice to talk to someone besides my cat.” You urged, a laugh encasing your words.

His heart threatened to bounce out of his chest, but he pulled himself together with a subtle pinch to his thigh.

“Sounds nice.”

Dried blood coated his mask and stained his gloves to the point that he had to pull extremely hard to take them off. His shoulders slouched significantly and his eyes grew such large bags under them he could feel his skin sink into his skull. He was tired, exhausted, and needing a warm, long shower.

“Good te’ be back, yeah, L.t.?” Soap threw himself against a bench, groaning as he bent down to untie the laces of his boots. The Scot likely had the same idea as Simon, to shower all this blood off their bodies.

“Sure. Back to morning drills and bland Mess Hall food.” He added in monotone, eyes twinkling in amusement as Soap let out another dramatic groan.

“Oh don’t be like that.” He teased again, constantly pushing Simon out of his dramatic and lone atmosphere. It was nice in ways, how Soap managed to brighten up his day and keep him on his toes.

Speaking of toes, a frown worked its way onto his face as he caught the state of his freshly knitted socks. Dark mud and seeping blood rubbed uncomfortably against his toes, soaking the material of all its purity.

Soap followed his eye line, latching onto the pattern of white ghosts against black knitted material. A chortle escaped him, “Where the bloody hell did ye’ get those?”

“My Neighbor.” He answered shortly, taking note of the crimson color bleeding into the white ghosts.

“D’aw, little gran’ made ye’ some socks?” Soap teased, making the wrong assumption that you were some sweet elderly lady. Simon shook his head, peeling off the socks begrudgingly as he looked forward to his hot shower to warm his bones.

“She’s my age.”

His mind travelled to you. How you’d begged and begged for him to tell you his callsign, bringing up Top Gun of all things.

“Oh my gosh! You need to watch more movies. I can’t believe you don’t know who Tom Cruise is. Top Gun!” Your ecstatic voice carried as you sat in the now familiar booth the two of you shared.

It’s become a common occurrence for him to go out with you on Saturday mornings, sometimes you’d bring your laptop and study for an upcoming test in uni, other times you’d ask him any question under the sun, just to get to know him better. He was comforted by your mindless chatter, even more so when you’d avoid certain topics that made him uncomfortable.

You’d hardly pushed on his childhood or career, that was until you’d thought him traitorous that he’d never seen either of the Top Gun movies.

“Maverick and Goose? Never heard of them?”

“No.” Simon shrugged, sipping on his tea as your eyes sparkled again. “Do you have a callsign?”

His teeth grit at the question as his airway slightly closed. It was dangerous to identify himself off the clock, even more so in a public area. He studied your antsy form, noticing your hips hanging off the booth in curiosity, as well as the soft flesh of your lips pulled between your teeth. How could he ever say no to a creature so effortlessly beautiful?

“Ghost.”

A few days later, a knock on his door startled him from his routine of watching the local broadcasting. He’d approached the door, only to find a black pair of socks with little white ghosts knitted against the seams.

“Is she fit?” Soap found himself asking, a happy grin shining through. Simon was glad for his mask, for when he pictured your smooth skin, beautiful eyes, and stunning frame he could picture no flaws. Fit? That didn’t even begin to describe you.

“You have no idea, mate.”

He’d returned home Christmas Eve, tired and worn from all the flights and jet lagged beyond belief. His muscles were stiff and his heart was heavy. This was always his least favorite time of year.

Horror flashed before his very eyes, usually he’d get away with spending the holidays on base, catching up with his paperwork and training privates a little more to reduce his thoughts of his late family. Instead, Price all but forced him to go home, after a certain Scot let slip that his Lieutenant fancied his own neighbor.

He had nowhere to hide this time. He was home, and at the worst time of the year. Near instantly his nostrils filled with the smell of burnt Christmas ham, charred and ashes by the time he’d opened the front door. But that wasn’t the worst smell, not even close. Coppery tinges of blood clouded his nostrils as his eyes glazed over.

Hidden and reflected off the ornaments on the tree was his family. His poor sweet mother, who’d done so much and tried so hard to raise two boys with an abusive husband— she lay face first on the festive rugs. He’d rushed to her, only to nearly trip over his brother. Tommy’s hand was outstretched, blood trailing as he’d likely tried to crawl to his dead wife.

He couldn’t breathe, sheer panic and despair crawling on him like millions of slippery bugs. He’d vomited all the contents of his stomach as he caught the crib in the corner. Not his little nephew, not little Joseph.

Loud honking from below drew him out of his mind. He’d been standing idly in front of his door, duffel clutched so tightly in his hand he was sure he’d had punctured skin.

White snow, soft violin, warm coat.

Violin?

His feet had already carried him to your door, hand cautiously rapping against the thin wooden material. He knew it was late— hell, it was likely already midnight and Christmas Day. Yet he needed something, he needed to hear your voice and smell the lavender and floral ofyour perfume. He even wanted to see the orange fur of your pet tabby cat.

“Who is it?” Your soft voice carried through the door, successfully halting some of the tension in his shoulders.

“Simon.”

The door cracked open almost immediately, revealing you in red flannel pajamas and sleepy eyes. He’d never felt such a relief as he had just now. Seeing you, your warm smile peeking through all the tiredness.

“You just get back?” You asked, slippered feet already sliding to the kitchen to turn on the electric kettle.

“Yes.” He replied, bending low to pat the orange ball of fur dubbed Garfield. The cat mewed happily, even going as far as letting his belly be scratched. He’d missed your eyes curiously glancing at him from behind a cabinet, two mugs clinking as you pulled them out. He’d had the same cloudy eyes and sagged shoulders he always did when he was plagued by bad memories and PTSD.

“I was just about to put on a movie, if you want to sit on the sofa.” You’d suggested, seeping the leaves of his breakfast tea in a fluid motion. Your warm and inviting voice broke him away from thinking of his family, especially when the steaming scent of tea crept up his nose.

“What movie?”

“I was thinking Home Alone, or maybe even The Grinch. Tis’ the season and all that.” You bubbled, taking your own seat against him. He’d stiffened slightly at the mention of the holidays, but his thoughts quickly vanished at the subtle brush of warm skin against his side.

He wasn’t able to breathe properly as you laid your cheek upon his shoulder, right in the dip between his neck and clavicle. But no, it wasn’t the suffocating and violent loss of breath like before, when he thought of war and bloodshed. No, this was a dull ache of his heart, as if telling him that yes, this is where I want to be.

Red Flannel, shifting bodies, soft lips.

“How about we watch Top Gun?” He asked in a whisper, still feeling the absolute sweetness of your lips, the pleasure and love that was you.

You’d single-handedly dulled his pain, silenced the noise, and picked him up on the darkest of his days.

He loved you.

Tag list: @mykneeshurt



#simon ghost riley #cod #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you

[milswrites]

Can I have this dance?

~ Azriel X Fem!Reader

Summary: Lovingly trapped in a moment on a roof in the Rainbow, you and Azriel take advantage of the little time you get alone, enjoying your evening together until dawn makes her appearance.

Warnings: Just cuteness!

Notes: Don’t know why this made me feel homesick for a place that isn’t real. (I definitely didn’t base this off the song from High School Musical 3 👀🫣)

Life couldn’t get any better than this. You had just shared in the most magical evening with Azriel. The delectable meal at his favourite restaurant , secretly hidden down one of the narrow, twisting streets of the illuminated city. The blissful walk along the Sidra, hands entwined and swinging between you as you spoke about everything and nothing all at once. Then finally to end your evening the perfect view of the rainbow, enjoyed only by you and the shadowsinger, hiding away on the roof of Feyre’s studio, not yet wanting the most wonderful of nights to come to an end.

So here you were, sat together on a blanket Azriel had materialised from his shadows, your head resting against his shoulder as you admired the scene. Eyes closed softly as you appreciated the humid kiss of the evening breeze against your cheeks, ears perked as you listened to the bustling streets below. Friends laughing with friends as they crawl out from the rustic bars, ready for an exciting night ahead in the clubs of Velaris. Artists calling out enticingly, attempting to squeeze in a few more sales from the interested public before they packed up for the night. Velaris was a city full of life. The rising of the moon, and the dotting of twinkling stars appearing in the inky sky, called its people from their homes like a sirens song.

You and Azriel had always been wallflowers, preferring to sit back and absorb the moments you were in. So being here, sat only with each other for company on the silent roof, heightened senses taking in the sights, smells and sounds from the streets below, was your idea of heaven. You mainly sat in comforting silence, though Azriel occasionally released a low rumbling laugh from his chest, pointing out a poor fae who had drank a little too much and was struggling as they stumbled wildly down the cobbled streets. Or you would gasp in adoration each time a dog ran by, tongue hanging out as its tail wagged happily. You were watchers and this was the perfect place to observe.

Hypnotised, you were unsure just how long you had been sat there entwined together, the night sky being your only guide as to what the time was, hundreds of stars now shining in the night sky. The vendors had all taken their leave, wheeling their lightened carts away as their places were taken by musicians and performers seeking to make a few coins and share their passion with the keen citizens of Velaris, who were all too willing to stop and watch as if they had all the time in the world.

Which it felt like you did, you and Azriel sat here on the roof trapped in your little moment with no concept of time. It was almost as if you were merely figures in a painting. Too enticed by the transfixing tug of the city that was Velaris. The only thing that could ruin your enjoyment would be the rude interruption of dawn breaking, and so until then you would absorb this picture in its entirety.

The wind carried a melodic tune from the streets which you overlooked. The airy whistling of a flute accompanied by the harmonic pull of a harps strings. It was the type of music you liked to imagine the gods would listen to, the skilled musicians drawing all kinds of emotions from you through their beautiful symphony.

Azriel, who had always been appreciative of good music, softly hummed along to the tune, his voice beautifully harmonising with the notes from the instruments below. Captivated, the song made you sway softly, continuously brushing against the shadowsinger’s shoulder as you did so.

Gleeful giggles joined the orchestration, you could almost feel the vibrations of the joyful sounds as the wind gently blew them towards you. Curious, you moved from your comfortable position to lean over the edge. Still humming contentedly, Azriel absentmindedly shot out a reassuring arm to hold onto your own, ensuring that you wouldn’t topple over the ledge, interrupting the magic that was being produced below.

You peered over, merriness filling your eyes as you watched couples, both young and old, joined together in an enchanting dance. Arms embracing their lovers as they swayed to the mesmerising tune.

You squealed at the sight, hopping excitedly to your feet as you wanted nothing more than to do the same, Azriel lurching forwards in fear at your sudden movement. The male stilled as he saw you were alright, eyes glancing in confusion to the open hand you were holding out for him to take.

You chuckled at his furrowed brows marring his handsome face, his thoughts still lost to hypnotising rhythm of the music. “Dance with me” you grinned, waving your arm about energetically as impatience flooded your system, wanting to start the dance before the melody came to an end.

A matching smile crossed his face as he placed his hand in yours, “I’m not much of a dancer” he nervously mumbled, afraid to disappoint you with his skills, or lack thereof. Mustering all the strength you could you pulled the male up from the floor, “it doesn’t matter Az, all that matters is you, this. Right now.”

You raise your entwined hands just as you saw the elder couples doing below, resting your head on Azriel’s chest as you wrapped your other arm round his muscular back, the male following suit and doing the same to you.

Taking the lead you began to sway in time with the tune, taking small steps which Azriel copied, his eyes locked onto your feet to ensure he didn’t step on them. Briefly, you removed your hand from his back just to take him by the chin and move his face to meet yours before returning it to its original position, his golden-amber eyes which were fogged by lust meeting your own.

Gaining confidence as his eyes bore into yours, Azriel began to guide you, steps widening as the two of you began to move around the roof, spinning together in broad circles, allowing the moment to take over and let your bodies do all the work. He raised your joined hands, allowing you to twirl under his arm, being mindful not to bump into his wings which were slightly curled around you both in your embrace.

You moved fluidly, two shadows dancing together under the moonlight, the powerful music controlling your movement. It was an elegant mess of unplanned yet coordinated spins and dips, Azriel doing whatever felt right at the time, allowing his instincts to work for him. He drew you into a deep dip, your back arching over his supportive arm as he did so before lifting you back up and spinning you in a circle once more, pulling you close to his chest after you were steadied on your feet.

Beginning to run out of moves, both your arms drifted up his body until they locked around his neck, his own hands coming to rest at your waist. You resumed the gentle swaying, head pressed against him feeling the vibrations in his chest as he once again began to hum the melody as you moved.

You continued this dance until the music began to fade, still making the small steps even after the last note rang out through the wind, too enthralled by this perfect little scene shared between you. Enjoying the rare time you get alone when you are both off work and aren’t joined by your family - as much as you loved them.

And so the dance didn’t end with the song. The sound of your steady steps against the roof echoed until dawn finally made its appearance. The two of you still tangled in your enveloping embrace until the sun had long since risen. Allowing your perfect night to carry through into a beautiful new day.

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

Notes: literally had this idea and wrote it in an hour as I was just too excited

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel imagine #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

La~La~la 🦇 anon here with a sagau idea!

I don't play genshin with sound on, I always have my headphones on and sing to some songs while I play witch got me thinking.....

What if reader started singing viva la vida/once upon a december or another song really well and it just so happened that they had characters who are really musical like venti Barbra and xinyan in their party?

It would start out really sweet like them complimenting their creators voice and vibing along, then turn into them trying to write songs that are more like our modern ones!

Venti accidentally inventing an acoustic ballad or smthn (I used almost all my spoons for the first half..)

xinyan making an unholy amalgamation of classic and rock

And Barbra trying out new scales while writing songs about the creator who has the voice of an angel and godly pitch

For a good idea of what I'm thinking try listening to, Viva La Vida (orchestral version) from annapantsu!

(Feel free to add )

OHOHOHOHOHO, 🦇 ANON YOU ARE COOKING.

I need to start crawling out of my hole and listen to the song you're recommending to me ASAP—holy cow, I live under a mountain at this rate (I'm like Azhdaha bro this is NOT good 😭 Watch me run with this blindly bc I keep FORGETTING to listen to the recommendations 🦇 Anon is sending me—)

I won't add any other characters, since the selection you have is already good!

Venti, Barbara, and Xinyan Wanna Jam, Too!

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Venti

WISP BOI SHOOKETH. HE IS WHOOPING AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS. MONDSTADT IS GOING CRAZY WITH THIS BARD IN TOWN GOING AROUND ABOUT THE CREATOR—

All jokes aside, he's over the moon to know that about your singing and your song preference. I feel like Venti would try to make his version of the songs you sing :D

By the time you meet in person, man's hands down worshipping your singing like his LIFE depends on it.

"Oh, Your Grace! Please sing your songs for all of Mondstadt to enjoy!" You can hear the literal excitement practically radiating in his voice.

He's very stoked and will sing along if you do decide to sing. Watch him brag this to the other archons (cough Zhongli and Ei mainly cough)

Barbara

The moment she heard the Almighty Creator sing, she thought both you and Barbatos blessed her. I mean, the winds, carrying your voice, to her?!

She's utterly shocked. She doesn't know if she's worthy of hearing your voice—But Barbara loves your voice! Of course the Almighty Creator would have the best voice of all of Teyvat!

She once caught herself humming the song you were singing to previously in the Church of Barbatos. Barbara was so embarrassed because the others managed to catch her humming that strange tune.

When you came around, Barbara was immediately the first one to ask you to sing—albeit a little timidly.

"Y-Your Grace! Uhm...Is it possible if you allow us Nuns at the Church to...hear you sing? Of course, you don't have to agree! We can sing the song ourselves if you wish!" Barbara just really wants to let you know that Mondstadt worships and adores you.

She would definitely make a choir version of the songs you sing. Be prepared to be invited and no, you're insisted to come. By everyone. :)

Xinyan

The first moment she heard you jam, she was loving it! Utterly loves the genre of music she hears from you!

From where she grew up (Liyue), there were some people that were very picky with their taste in music and usually called her rock'n roll a ruckus. To hear you sing something without a care in the world to a song that doesn't really fit to the usual old geezer's standards was utterly refreshing!

Sometimes, when she's given the honor of the stage, she would perform some performances to you and perform a rock'n roll version of the songs you sing. She has a musician's ears after all, she would remember how the riffs go and remix them to fit her style.

When you arrive, you better go out and listen! Xinyan would absolutely credit you and (if your up to it) sing alongside you!

"Haha, Your Grace! You're here—wanna hear my rock'n roll version of your songs?" She's good at remixing, it's almost unfair—

Yeah, none of them realize any of the songs you sang weren't your creation. Good luck explaining to them :)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: WHY AM I TAKE 3 ETERNITIES TO WRITE EVERYTHING SOBBING. WHERE IS MY MOTIVATION OFF RUNNING TO ISTG—

Ahem, anyways—I hope you guys liked it :D I'm currently facing a bit of a time crunch atm so my response to requests will be even slower than it already is :') Sorry about that. I hope you guys love this post, though!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #sagau x reader #sagau #sagau genshin #yandere sagau #sagau brainrot #genshin cult au #sagau venti #sagau barbara #sagau xinyan #BRO BARBARA AND XINYAN HAVE NO SAGAU TAGS??? SOBBING

[gon-and-killuas-mother]

i watched a documentary about the Titanic (one of those "real time" animations on YouTube) and was once again struck by the musicians playing till almost the very end. except this time i learned that their final song was "Nearer My God To Thee", which actually made me start crying

i'd always considered it an act of kindness to the rest of the passengers, but now i'm certain it was at least partially for themselves. they were musicians dedicated to their instruments and knew the likelihood of survival was slim. so rather than fight the remaining 1500 people for the last 100 or so seats on the lifeboats, and leaving behind the instruments that were rarely far from their hands, they played.

i'm a choir kid, and my brother was an orchestra kid. music is how both of us cope with hard times. when i'm afraid or hurting or grieving, i sing. when the world feels like it's shattering around me, i sing, i sing, and i sing until my throat closes and my voice crumples.

(in more amusing light, just ask anyone i play online games with, anytime i get spooked or chased by a baddie, i do literally start singing like i was in the middle of an opera)

sure, maybe the musicians on the Titanic wanted to play a lullaby to the passengers in hopes of easing their last moments, but i'm now convinced they mostly did it for themselves. not selfishly, music is never selfish, it's always an act of sharing.

if i were a professional orchestral musician, my life would revolve around the instrument i play. i might know the instrument better than any human partner. and if i knew that this would be my last chance to play a beautiful song before being swallowed by the Atlantic, i'd play it over and over and over until gravity and ice cold water forces me to let go.

not to comfort the passengers anymore, they're beyond comfort now. i'd play simply so that the last thing i hear before the water takes me is the sound of my cello, or violin, or viola, or double bass softly crooning the saddest, gentlest hymn to the night. i'd want to feel the vibrations under my fingers no matter how frozen they are, because i won't be able to do it ever again.

what the fuck i'm crying again. i always had an appreciation for the musicians, but it didn't actually strike me so hard until i related to them on a personal level. i don't think they were trying to be heroes, they were just taking comfort in their own craft.

#tink rambles #titanic #usually titanic related things dont affect me so hard other than a distant sense of mourning #but nah this one fucks me up #music #choir #orchestra

[finleycannotdraw]

can u recommend some bands? i think i like ur music taste and i am terrible at finding music

ty :)

of COURSE I can <3 you’ve probably heard of some of these, but maybe there’ll be some you haven’t! I don’t know what you already like, so… here we go :)

Hozier. Yeah this was always going to be first on the list I’m currently listening to basically nothing else! He’s an Irish folk/soul/blues/etc idk musician who uses a lot of religious and mythological themes in his lyrics and has a lot of songs that include social justice commentary.

The Amazing Devil is a folk rock band with an incredibly unique sound. Their songs are incredibly emotional and have an awesome fantasy vibe going on—plus there’s two singers, and they often sing independently from each other, which is something you don’t see often!

Good Morning Bedlam is a bluegrass band that I’ve gotten into recently! They’re sort of like… a mix of the amazing devil and the crane wives?

The Crane Wives, while we’re at it, and

The Oh Hellos. they’re fairly similar and I don’t have a ton to say about their stylistic differences, but they’re all definitely worth checking out!

Florence & The Machine. Most people have heard of them but I always like to recommend them anyway

Alec Benjamin, if you’re into softer indie music! He has a lot of different styles of lyrics, but his voice is consistent, so he’s great to listen to if you’re looking for that sort of variety.

Chxrlotte doesn’t have a lot of music out, but I’m a big fan of the music she has released, including the ones about Good Omens! The others are more angsty which I love too.

The Family Crest is an orchestral indie pop rock band, which blows my mind. I can’t believe orchestra isn’t a more utilized tool in popular lyrical music, because they do it so well.

Good Kid is actually my brother’s favorite band, and I love them too. They’re also indie rock, but they have a very distinctive style and are easy to get into! Plus they haven’t released a shit ton of songs like some other artists, so it isn’t overwhelming to explore their discography.

Jonatha Brooke is an artist I only know about because my mom liked her music a lot in the 90s, but she’s got a super nice voice and has some awesomely relatable lyrics. I especially recommend her album Ten Cent Wings!

Midlake is a super melodic folk rock band. I’m obsessed with their album The Courage of Others, which has a melancholy vibe that’s super easy to get lost in.

Palaye Royale is harder rock than anyone else on the list so far, but they’ve got an awesome style. Unique voice and definitely darker themes in their lyrics.

Tears for Fears is a pop rock band that I love because my dad does. (My parents are musicians—I trust their music taste).

Toad the Wet Sprocket got their name from Monty Python, but PLEASE go listen to the Architect of the Ruin EP. You will not regret it. Also the song Something’s Always Wrong is like… entrenched in my very being.

Elbow is a band that I never see in fandom circles, but they’re definitely not obscure. Check out their album Little Fictions! They’re kind of like Midlake.

Will Wood ranges from chaotic and fun (The Normal Album) to absolutely soul-crushing (in case I make it)! Sometimes even both at the same time!

(I would’ve also put Paramore, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, and other rock/pop punk bands I like on there, but I assumed you already know them.) (If you were looking for harder rock or metal, let me know, because this list is not that.)

If you want more genre-specific recs or even album/song recs, don’t hesitate to ask!! Music is the fuel of my soul.

#asks :) #music talk #band recommendations #song recs #music recs #hozier #the amazing devil #the crane wives #good morning bedlam #the oh hellos #florence and the machine #alec benjamin #chxrlotte #the family crest #good kid #jonatha brooke #midlake #palaye royale #tears for fears #toad the wet sprocket #elbow #will wood

[lunellasflo]

My Revision of Wish

As someone who loves the concept of Wish, I thought it was a decent addition to the Disney Animation Canon. I enjoyed the songs, the gorgeous hybrid artstyle, and the homage to Sleeping Beauty's wide cinemascope aspect. Unfortunately, the more I think about Wish, the more disappointed I was with the final product. For what was supposed to be a celebration of Disney's legacy, it ended up being shot with the blandification ray by the studio itself, because they had a lot of interesting concepts planned for the film. It's just impossible for me to hate Wish like everyone else on the internet, because I know there's passion behind this idea, it was just muddled and screwed over by the despicable corporate side of Disney.

Now, while I did love the final product and was also simultaneously disappointed over what it could’ve and should’ve been, I wanted to showcase my version of the film with a heavier emphasis on the wishing star’s untold origin story. This is actually an updated/edited version of my original draft, and I added a little bit of characterization as well.

SPOILERS FOR THE ACTUAL FILM BTW

Wish (in my version) is fully 2D-Animated, and contains music, orchestration and lyrics from Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz, with additional output from Julia Michaels.

Cast:

Alycia Pascual-Peña as Asha

Chris Pine as King Magnifico

Amara Le Negra as Queen Amaya

Roman Banks as Orion (Star)

Summary: 

“Have you ever wondered how the legendary Wishing Star was born?… Set in a time centuries before Snow White wished by the wishing well, or Geppetto wished for his little wooden puppet to become a real boy, Wish takes place in the medieval city of Rosas, a fantasy kingdom off the coast of the Mediterranean Sea where your wishes can literally be transformed into reality. The kingdom is ruled by King Magnifico (Chris Pine) and Queen Amaya (Amara Le Negra), respected by all as the kingdom’s sole wish-granters. They live happily in peace with their royal daughter named Asha (voiced by Alycia Pascual Peña), who was set to take her parents’ throne once she turned 17. 

Princess Asha is sharp-witted and wildly smart beyond her years: a young philosopher in the making, who believes that the stars are always there to guide her. She's a shy bookworm who is very creative, she draws animations in her notepad and paints with watercolors all over her bedroom, much like Rapunzel. Asha also wants to be a musician and to inspire the people with her music. While being devoted to her goal to ensure that everyone gets their wish to come true, Asha also struggles with poor leadership skills, and she doesn't know how to be a good leader to her friends, or her kingdom. Her parents seem to make it look easy, and sometimes Asha prefers to rely on them to make her dreams come true. However, Asha believes that a bigger and stronger wish requires a much more difficult journey, and in order to achieve her wish, she must confront her own parents, two of the fiercest and most powerful villains the Disney universe has ever known.

King Magnifico is almost the same as his canon depiction, except he has no backstory of him losing his family to destruction which would've make him more sympathetic, and does not mesh well with him being a villain. He uses his magic to remove wishes from people's hearts and keeps them in his own "wish orbs" for personal keeping, but we don't find out what he does with them until the first act. Before he praticed magic, he was a philosopher who believed in the power of the stars in the night sky, inspiring Asha to develop her belief that there is magic in the stars.

Queen Amaya is a female villain who is madly in love with Magnifico and pressures Asha to be a perfect royal daughter, much in the vein of Yzma and Maleficent, with shades of Mother Gothel. She is a black dark-skinned Latina, and Asha's birth mother. Queen Amaya owns has a pet cat assistant named Cleo, who is a callback to Maleficent's crow Diablo, or Lady Tremaine's cat Lucifer.

Alright, now back to the story!

On her 17th birthday, during a beautiful royal ball, Asha notices that her parents have wondered off from their thrones, and she uncovers a dark truth about both of her parents and how they want to keep the wishes of the people for themselves. Even worse, she peaks through the cracked door of the throne room to witness that the King and Queen are crushing the people's wishes, and infusing their energy, in order to make their own magic more powerful, and thus manipulating the townspeople and giving them the false hope of their wishes being granted. Asha tries to keep what she saw a secret from her parents, but she argues that the wishes must be free and sent back to the people. After a heated argument with her parents, she runs to the forest and makes a passionate cry for help to the stars, in the hopes that they will give her guidance and strength to help her entire kingdom. (‘This Wish’ is staying btw, but with adjusted lyrics) Her plea pulls down the brightest star out of the sky and transforms it into a glowing ethereal humanoid being without a name.

Here is where we meet Orion. Orion is THE wishing star of legend. He is a glowing, Black-coded, humanoid boy around the same age as Asha. Newly formed, he has no name and no sense of right or wrong, much like Pinocchio, but he reveals himself to be a powerful shapeshifter with magic celestial powers. The starboy is aided with the tiny, Luma-like canon version of Star, named Little Dipper, as his personal companion. Little Dipper is more mischevious than Orion, but it's also a powerful wish granter in a tiny celestial body. With a reworked, more orchestral version of "At All Costs", Orion takes Asha on a gorgeous flight, explaining his purpose to help Asha, as the duo sings in harmony above the stardust-sprinkled woodlands, with Little Dipper setting the scene. After the song ends, Asha tries to name all the constellations off the top of her head, and ultimately names the starboy Orion (serving as a subtle callback to Kiss the Girl). Asha brings Orion back to the kingdom, and she tries to teach him how to grant the peoples’ wishes. As the two plans to give the wish orbs back to the people, Asha notices that her parents are angered over the townspeople praising Orion’s descend, hoping that he will grant the wishes of all the people. Feeling threatened by Orion’s presence, the King and Queen scheme to use dark magic to kill Fate and steal her magic, so that they will remain as the only wish-granters in Rosas, but at the risk of permanently being surrendered to the dark side. (This Is The Thanks I Get, except it's reworked into a grand, badass, orchestral villain duet with Magnifico on the first verse and Amaya on the second verse)

Desperate to warn the kingdom about her parents’ true colors, Asha disguises herself (a la Sleeping Beauty) as a peasant girl, while Orion tries to disguise himself as a normal human boy. As the two try to grant the wishes of the townpeople who haven't given their wishes to the king and queen, the town descends into chaos with some wishes spiraling out of control. While it is a moment of hilarity, Asha and Orion come to a realization that some wishes should never be granted in the first place, as they're more likely to cause harm and chaos than pure good. The two comes across a group of seven teenagers modeled after the Seven Dwarfs, Asha's longtime team, and Orion starts to get to know each one of them, before planning a rebellion against her parents, and yet, Asha is secretly hesitant to disobey her parents, she confesses to Orion - in a short reprise of At All Costs - about how she used to be perfectly obedient and a perfect princess to her people. Meanwhile, Orion reveals to the Seven Teens that he’s still learning to grant wishes, but they also end up horribly wrong, but he comes to a realization that he shouldn't grant wishes that could cause harm, no matter how much they beg for it. The Teens make a promise to Asha that they will protect her secret, as well as Orion's. The duo and the teens team up to stop the King and Queen, with a reworked version of "Knowing What I Know Now."

During the epic climax, Orion and Asha create a diversion, with Asha freeing the wishes with her team and learning to be a good leader in doing so, while Orion shapeshifts into multiple forms to battle the King and Queen and distract them away from the castle, but they capture Little Dipper into the scepter, and use Dipper's magic to transform their cat Cleo into a giant dragon (akin to Maleficent's dragon form) that flies them to the top of the castle, with Orion chained up. The parents chain Asha to the top of the castle where the battle occurs, and they force their daughter to watch Orion suffer. Engulfed by the pain of losing her protector, Asha breaks into the This Wish reprise, as do the other residents of Rosas. The King and Queen try to push Asha off the castle to her death, but the townspeoples' voices lift her up, as does Orion's, and he uses his magic to make her float above in mid-air. Everyone's hearts beginning to glow and attract their wishes back to their hearts as they sing in unison. Orion transfers most of his celestial powers into Asha, who uses her temporary celestial powers to free Little Dipper from the scepter, and blast the King and Queen to their death, while Orion simultaneously creates a powerful sword to throw into Cleo's heart, killing her as well. After a moment of silence, Asha breaks down into tears and feels bittersweet that she’ll never have her parents again, but more optimistic about being the ruler the kingdom desperately needed - someone who will choose only the best wishes to come true. Orion comes down to Earth to comforts Asha with a hug, and the kingdom rejoices with the evil King and Queen gone for good.

Cut to a few months later with Asha hosting her first royal ball for Rosas, and dancing with Orion, similar to the endings of Sleeping Beauty and Beauty and the Beast. Before Orion flies back to the night sky to become the Wishing Star, he gets Little Dipper to create a magic wand and grants her the role of a honorary Blue Fairy guardian, transforming Asha’s purple queen gown into a beautiful, glittering, baby blue gown. Orion informs to Asha that Asha will be reincarnated into a true Blue Fairy after her time on Earth comes to an end, but Orion will descend back down to Rosas every now and then to help Asha. As a final gift, even though he admits his magic is not perfect just yet, Orion finally grants Asha’s wish and creates a lute for her to play for her people, but Asha realizes what her true wish was all along: To be a good leader to all of Rosas.

After Orion forms into the glimmering Wishing Star in the night sky above Rosas, Queen Asha looks down on the townspeople of Rosas with hope in her smile and she looks up at the wishing star above her, with a hope that everyone will have a wish to come true, because now, Queen Asha knows that there is no force, no magic more powerful than the power of a wish, for a wish is more powerful when it’s inside your heart.

Cut to a few nights later, after the credits have rolled, when Asha walks out onto the balcony above the kingdom. She pulls out a music sheet, and begins to play ‘When You Wish Upon A Star’ for the stars, as an homage to Orion.

My version of Wish will also contain hundreds of Easter Eggs that all pay tribute to ALL 61 FILMS in the Walt Disney Animation Studios library, all worked seamlessly into the context of the story, not just containing the ones that inspire the film like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White. Anyway, all I’m saying is that Disney should’ve hired me and put me into the writers room, because as a Disney fan, I know how to make this story work and how to make it even better, and I hope you guys love this version of the story! Oh, and also, screw Disney for donating to a genocide. Goodnight Kingdom of Rosas!

#disney #wish #disney wish #asha #king magnifico #queen amaya #disney100 #disney animation

[komelrebi-san]

songs without words

was in band practice yesterday daydreaming about inumaki toge and it gave me ideas

synopsis: in which, you! the concert pianist in the school orchestra, caught their eyes... feat.: (my husband)gojo satoru, suguru geto, inumaki toge, itadori yuji, fushiguro toji

don't like, don't read.

when they walk into the room, carrying their music sheets and instrument, their eyes land on you. eh, wait, you're new! they haven't seen you before, have they? are you even supposed to be here?

but you don't take any notice of them as you played transcendental passages on the piano, dextrous fingers dancing over the keys, beautiful melodies resonating from the strings of the piano. smiling bashfully, you stop playing and walk over to talk to the proud-looking conductor, yaga masamichi.

---

gojo satoru - principal flautist

jeez, you cannot, cannot tell me this man is not the principal flautist

bags any and all solos he can, may or may not be competing for attention with a certain principal violinist

quote: 'what do you mean the violin gets to be concert master??? i'm also a principal musician! the flute is a solo instrument too!!!'

always always always be flaunting his skills - insane scales and arpeggios, fingers pressing and releasing the keys faster than one can comprehend - wait, how can he even tongue the notes that fast??

never never tunes to the principal violinist nor the oboist though it's normal orchestral procedure to tune to one of the two

bro skips to the piano to ask you for a tuning note, doesn't forget to add that he doesn't care which note it is because he's that skilled that he can tune to anything

(it's normal orchestral procedure to tune to concert-pitched A, frequency 440 or 442)

refuses to use a tuner/tuner app, bro has perfect pitch

goodness, he's such a menace, he's always belting out high notes

conductor yaga has never regretted anything more than giving satoru the piccolo part

(for those of you that don't know, the piccolo is basically a mini flute, same fingerings but just higher pitched)

i think everyone's ears died, oh god

wait, don't blame him though, he just wanted you to notice him

(oh, the little giggle that came out of your pretty lips when he belched high notes on his piccolo)

suguru geto - the said principal violinist

the said principal violinist satoru tries to take solos from

oof he always looks so good, sitting up straight int he front of his chair, hair swept to the side as he sits his violin on his shoulder

the little smirks he sends you as he plays, god damn

quite literally enchants everyone with his playing, fingers effortlessly reaching across the violin fingerboard

was so so so tempted to ask the principal percussionist to chuck the huge gong mallet at satoru's head

does this thing where he nods at you with a confident smile before rehearsal officially starts, and that's his signal for you to play the concert-pitched A so he can tune, then the rest of the string players will follow, and then the rest of the orchestra

relishes the fact that he's the closest to you in terms of seating and never forgets to rub it in satoru's face

has given your piano part a few tries on his violin just to spend more time with you, ends up laughing at satoru once again because whilst the violin can play multiple notes at the same time, the flute cannot

always brings hand cream with him! he doesn't use it but he makes you use it (trust me playing piano after massaging your hands slightly with hand cream feels infinitely better)

bonus! offers you his jacket if you get cold hands easily

inumaki toge - the principal oboist

somehow always gets dehydrated? like

needs to have water with him at rehearsals

probably started following you around like a lost puppy a little bit after that one time you gave him water and told him very nonchalantly that you aren't saliva conscious when he forgot to bring his bottle

well i mean, in his mind he probably was like 'wait, they understand me!!!'

welllllll, there was supposed to be another oboist but they always skip rehearsals lmfao

have i told you that this boy has the prettiest lips??? they look so kissable

partially the instrument's fault bc the reed is so small, so oboists really have to preserve their lips

loves loves loves loves onigiri, like, you never see him without onigiri during rehearsal breaks

and he look so cute when he eats!! does this thing where he puffs his cheeks out as he chews, bro probably just stuffed his mouth full of onigiri bc of his love for them 😭😭😭

started bringing extra onigiri with him so he can offer you one

actl speaks quite little, so he settles for actions instead

always comes to rehearsal 10 min early just so he can warm up and tune his oboe but in reality is just an excuse to sit with you

itadori yuji - actually supposed to be first trumpet, but ends up substituting as a percussion player a lot of the times

loud

have i told you that he's loud???

i swear, music classrooms are soundproof af but you can hear his laughter down the corridor even as you warmed up on the piano

okay, the principal trumpet is great, but wait, how does itadori's sound always manage to overpower their's???

please, yaga doesn't even know 😭😭😭

okay, itadori is great, but the problem is he always manages to somehow come in at the wrong time or play the wrong note, on top of being really super loud

welp, so he started subbing for the percussion

oh no oh no, everyone's ears

but hey, his crash-cymbal part is done ON POINT, so might as well keep him there

always comes early to set up his percussion stuff, so when you joined as the concert pianist, he also sets the grand piano lid for you, it's so damn heavy

bro's always hungry, so he always carries candy or sweet stuff with him, and he tries super hard to hide them from the sweet-toothed principal flautist

but uses them as on opportunity to start conversations with you and offer you some, and deny satoru in his face

and he's always rushing off to some kind of sports training session afterwards, lmfao

toji fushiguro - guest saxophone player

badboy upperclassman fr 😩😩😩

saxophone is a side job, but bro looks so fucking sexy while playing, and he makes sure he perfects every solo bit he can get his hands on

actl in like a band with his classmates or something, pretty sure you saw him playing drums with his friends at the school concert once

probs knows how to play guitar and bass too, so he helps his friends rearrange the parts and teach them parts they cant play

but! mediocre at the keyboard

so when he saw you?

thought 1: oooof she's so hot, i wanna ask her out

thought 2: hey, she can join my band!

so he used idea number two as an excuse to talk to you lmfao, but wasn't gonna give up when you told him that you were busy so you had to think about it

made a point right then and there to talk to you every single rehearsal he can come to

either to show you videos of them/solo cams of him playing, or to complain they cant find a good keyboardist and they are suffering lmfao

literally almost started fighting satoru for your attention lmfao, and my bro right here actl went ahead to wack satoru's head with a drumstick

oof arm muscles flexing oof so hot

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #suguru geto x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #suguru geto #inumaki toge x reader #inumaki x reader #inumaki toge #jjk hcs #jjk headcannons #jujutsu kaisen hcs

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

You Ain’t Woman Enough [To Take My Man]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Reader, Original Female Character, Can be Kathy Westmoreland if you want

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4106

Summary: You’ve come to tell me something, you say I ought to know.

Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship, Reader Has A Name, Marriage, Cheating, Adultery, Affairs, Serial Cheating, Kissing, Nudity, Shower Stuff, Guilt, Angst, Hell Hath No Fury etc etc, Song Fic, You Ain’t Woman Enough [To Take My Man] // Loretta Lynn

Notes: Ive decided to use actual names instead of YN in these reader Fics x

ELVIS MASTERLIST // SONG LINK // HALLOWEEN MASTERLIST

The suite was quiet as you entered, almost perfectly still just as your husband had left it. The curtains were closed though you doubted they’d even been opened today and the air conditioning was on making the room a crisp sixty-eight degrees. It made you shiver. After all, you had spent weeks back at home alone getting used to being in rooms that didn’t feel like a meat locker. Still, as the goosebumps formed on your flesh and the scent of his cologne hit your nostrils you were happy to be there. As you moved through the room you noticed your suitcase had already made it upstairs and though you knew you only had a small amount of time to get downstairs before Elvis went back on for his second show you didn’t find yourself rushing. No, even though you were happy to be reunited after weeks apart you wanted to at least look presentable so you heaved your suitcase up onto the bed so that you could rifle through it. However you had only managed to pull a couple of items out when you heard the door open and expecting it to be one of the boys you turned around ready to tell them you’d not be long. Yet when you looked around you found it wasn’t one of the boys at all, it was another woman, one you didn’t recognise.

She crept in, straightening up once she turned around and found you watching her, a blush on her sun-kissed cheeks.

‘Oh sorry,’ she mumbled, ‘I didn’t know anyone was in here.’

‘It’s fine. Can I help you?’ you replied.

‘No, it’s um nothing,’ she said dropping her gaze to the floor as she ran a hand through her blown-out brunette locks, ‘it’s fine I was just-’

‘Looking for Elvis?’ you asked which finally made her bright blue eyes snap up to meet yours, guilt swimming through them as they stared back at you.

‘No, uh,’ she said no doubt scrambling for an excuse yet you were quicker, having been down this road before you had learned to distinguish between the two types of women who circulated around your husband. Those who could be trusted and those who couldn’t. And those who couldn’t all seemed to harbour the same actions whenever you were around, watching you with wide-eyed guilt, dropping their gazes, or feigning stupidity or ignorance. Whether it was for your benefit or theirs you weren’t sure but sometimes, when Elvis wasn’t around, you grew tired of it. You grew tired of pretending not to know why a woman would be sneaking into your husband's private suite, not when you knew that there was no way your husband would’ve allowed her to come anywhere near his room tonight. No, he would’ve orchestrated it so that your paths never crossed which meant that her presence here was of her own choosing and so you decided to do away with pretences.

‘So what are you doing in his suite then? You’re aware it’s private, right?’ you challenged which appeared to make something change inside her, whatever coyness she had been going to attempt disappearing, an attitude in its place. Ah, you realised. She’s one of them. As you had become an expert in fishing out the woman who couldn’t be trusted you had also started to put them into categories. There were the innocent ones, the ones who fell for his charm and charisma like you had many moons ago and even though they knew it was wrong they succumbed all the same, guilt coursing through them at the mere thought of you. There were bold ones, ones who weren’t really expecting whatever they had to go anywhere but were making the most of it whilst they still had his attention. They too had guilt but it was different, rationalised that at the end of the day, he still chose you. And then there were ambitious ones, ones that had fallen for him too but now sought to lay claim. Ones that didn’t feel guilty because in their eyes you were the other woman, the one keeping them from what they wanted. These were the worst of the bunch, mostly because they almost always sought to make it sure that you were aware of their presence. Hence why she was standing in front of you. Indisputable proof.

‘If you must know he asked to see me,’ she said, folding her arms across her chest. You eyed her for a minute, musing over the fact you’d probably seen more fabric on one of your daughter's dolls than she was had on right now though she’d probably spent hours agonising over just what to wear. For both yours and Elvis’s attention presumably. As you finally caught her eye you found she was watching you exasperatedly, no doubt wondering why you hadn't torn into her. Wondering how you could remain calm when both of you knew what was going on. Sometimes you wondered how you could do it yourself but to see how your lack of reaction was getting under her skin you continued, the only words that you offered were, ‘Oh sure.’

‘He did,’ she said snappily making you smile.

‘Honey my husband is many things but he isn't stupid,’ you said moving back to your suitcase so that you could continue unpacking. To come here and goad you was one thing, to distract you from the task at hand was another.

‘What's that supposed to mean?’ she asked.

‘It means that he asked me to come to Vegas today. Do you really think he’d risk having another woman in his room?’ you said, turning around as you folded a dress over your arm. Her face went cold then, any trace of guilt wiped from it confirming your suspicions she had chosen to do this off her own back, ‘no. My bet is you thought now was a good time to come and tell me the truth right?’

You waited, looking at her expectantly as you continued to unpack. When she didn’t say anything, you sighed and said, ‘Well go on then. I haven’t got all day to wait around for whatever you’re gonna say.’

‘Elvis and I are dating,’ she said proudly, a smile tugging at her lips.

‘Is that right?’ you asked, finally stopping in your movements to look at her.

‘Yeah it is,’ she said, ‘have been for a while.’

‘Wow,’ you said sarcastically, ‘and uh, let me guess he loves you? Promised you the world you and you're just here to let me know before it all gets outta hand?’

‘It’s the right thing to do,’ she said.

‘And is dropping your panties for a married man also the right thing to do?’ you asked. You refused to show your irritation outwardly but it didn’t half stick in your craw whenever they laid on the martyr act. The girls-girl only looking out for your best interests, like they had been thinking of you and your family when they’d let him talk his way into their beds.

‘Look I didn’t have to come here. I didn’t have to tell you,’ she started making your irritation crash like a wave inside you, finally seeping out into your tone.

‘Oh but you wanted to right?’ you challenged, ‘that’s why you came looking for me when you knew I’d be here alone. Let me guess you’re just letting me know so I can plan ahead. Bow out gracefully, right?’

‘It’s better than being dumped,’ she scoffed.

‘True,’ you said, ‘but then again that would mean me allowing someone to take what's mine. And I can tell you now that'll happen over my dead body.’

‘He doesn’t love you anymore,’ she snapped.

‘Is that right?’ you mused, genuinely trying not to laugh. You knew it wasn’t funny, the idea of your husband lying beside this twenty-something and filling her head with the idea they had a future yet you couldn’t help but laugh. Because they fell for it every time.

You knew how of course. It was that same silver tongue that had gotten you into his bed, the ring on your finger, the marriage that you had. He had wormed his way into your life the way he did to theirs but there were differences because for all the promises he gave them, he gave you twenty more. For all the times he told them he loved them he made sure you were loved in every way possible. It wasn’t exactly painless, the idea that he could flout your marriage vows so easily would always hurt, but you had learned to deal with it because you knew that they didn’t mean anything, not really. Because time and time again you were the one he chose. Maybe you were a fool to let him. To turn a blind eye to it all. But when it was over, when he’d had his fill of whatever contact or affection he needed he always came back, more the man you married than before.

‘He told me he just wants out,’ she sneered, ‘he just doesn’t want to pay you your money.’

‘Honey,’ you said knowing full well your tone was fully laced with condescension but unable to care, ‘if you believe that you’re dumber than a box of rocks.’

She scoffed at that, her mouth falling into a tight scowl that made it look foreign against her pretty features. You sighed before you said, ‘you think I’m lying? More to the point do you really think you’re the first?’

At that her face flicked with uncertainty, your words calling into question whatever she had assumed to be fact, casting doubt she hadn't anticipated. It was cruel really and if she hadn't been so cocky, so determined to ruin your life, you might’ve even taken pity on her. After all, she was just a kid, one whose head had been filled with nonsense that she was too naïve to see couldn’t possibly be the truth.

‘Do you really think that if he wanted to go he wouldn’t just leave? That if he was so unhappy with me I’d force him to stay? He knows that if he doesn’t want to be in this marriage I sure as hell wont force him to be. And I'm sure whatever money he has to pay for our family he could earn back in a minute,’ you said. Again you watched as pain flicked across her features, guilt finally settling with her at the mention of your kids. Yet you didn’t let up. You refused to, ‘he has no intention of leaving me and whatever yarn he spins to get you into bed is between you and him. Hell darlin’, he’s probably as surprised as I am that it actually works.’

At that you offered a small laugh one that made her brows knit together as she tried to hold back whatever emotions she was feeling in front of you. It almost made you feel sorry for her. Almost. Yet you still needed to make sure she got the picture.

‘Elvis loves me and why his head may get turned every now and then he always comes crawling back, promising it won’t happen again until the next young thing in a tight skirt walks by,’ you said, ‘now a weaker woman would probably give up on him but I’m not weak and I sure as hell ain't gonna step aside and watch you ruin my marriage you hear me?’

She stayed quiet, that scowl still on her face though it looked as though it was holding back whatever she was scared to let burst out of her in front of you. Whether that anger or tears you weren’t sure. If anything you didn’t really care, you had said your piece. Though for whatever reason you felt the tiniest amount of compassion swill in you. After all, you were a seasoned veteran in the game of loving Elvis Presley, didn’t it fall to you to show her the ropes?

‘I will however offer you some advice,’ you said finally turning away from her and continuing with what you were doing before she came in, a slight act of mercy that allowed her to release the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. You heard it come out, shaky and pathetic, before her voice cut it off, her words coming out snarky as she replied, ‘Oh yeah, what's that?’

‘Don’t tell him you came here tonight,’ you said and as you pulled out a stunning blue dress, deciding that would be what you would wear at tomorrow night's show you heard her scoff.

‘Why afraid it’ll make him kick you to the kerb?’ she said, the scowl she had perfected back in full force as you turned around. You didn’t bother moving towards her, instead, you moved to the closet, sliding the door back until your husband’s vast wardrobe was on show, your dress slotting in perfectly next to his clothes, an action that made her eye twitch with irritation.

‘Oh honey,’ you said with a condescending smile, ‘it’s not me I’m scared for.’

And with that final remark she stormed from the room, slamming the door so hard behind her that the sliding door of the closet rattled in its tracks. You however couldn’t bring yourself to offer more than an eyeroll, her actions reminding you of your daughter who had a tendency to pitch a similar style of fit whenever she didn’t get her own way though of course she had the excuse of being three years old. You knew you should probably let it bother you. That the idea of another woman coming to tell you your husband didn’t want you any more should shake you to your core but it didn’t. You refused to let it because if you did it now you'd have to let it every damn time he conceded to be weak. And you refused to be weak too.

After that you busied yourself with unpacking and though you did head downstairs you made sure it was when Elvis was on stage, after all, there were things more interesting to you tonight than your husband's performance. Like finding out just who the girl was. That was how you’d come to find him on stage with her, laughing and joking as if nothing had even happened. And in an instant any thought you’d had about playing nice left your body because you had meant what you said. You weren’t going to stand aside and let her take him but now you were actively going to ensure she didn’t have the chance.

That thought came to you again later that night as you heard him call your name, the bathroom door opening as he said, ‘Lor, ya in here?’

‘In here,’ you called listening as he moved into the bathroom, clothes dropping to the floor as he went before you finally heard the glass door click open and then shut as his naked body slid in behind you, his arms ensnaring your waist.

‘Hi there,’ he mumbled as his lip met your neck.

‘Hi,’ you breathed sinking into him as he peppered kisses along your shoulder before you felt his hand snake down your slippery skin cupping your sex which caused you to shriek, ‘Elvis!’

‘I missed ya,’ he said as if it was your own fault not to have expected it.

‘I can see,’ you giggled wiggling your ass against his cock that was already growing rigid against you.

‘Joe told me you got here in between shows,’ he said his arousal not yet pressing enough that he felt the need to forgo chit-chat, ‘how come ya didn’t come down?

‘Oh I did but you know how it is when you haven’t seen folks in a while. I ended up bumping into people and we just got chatting,’ you said. That wasn’t untrue. You had spoken to some people, using carefully selected questions to get the information you craved without alerting them to what you were up to. You see you hadn’t been lying when you had told her to be careful. After all, you had done this dance a hundred times before and you knew all the steps. You knew if you challenged Elvis about his behaviour it would only get ugly. No, you needed to be smart. To orchestrate the situation so you got what you wanted but he was the one who felt like he had made the decision. And that was a skill you’d become an expert at.

‘Are they more important than me?’ he said and for a moment you were glad you were facing away from him, your expression liable to give you away as you thought about how he prioritised people in his life.

‘Of course not,’ you said, ‘but I knew I’d have you all to myself soon so I figured I’d play nice. Let them have you while they can.’

‘Ever the diplomat,’ he mused, his lips moving back to your neck for a moment. You knew now was the time to broach it, with him happy and pliant coming off the buzz of the show and the excitement of having you back. Yet you needed to do it carefully and so as he kissed you, you picked at your nails, removing the non-existent dirt from under them as you said, ‘but it wasn’t all bad. Actually, I got talking to one of your band members.’

‘Yeah?’ he asked, stopping his actions and resting his chin on your shoulder as he watched you carefully.

‘Yeah I don’t think we’ve met before though,’ you said, ‘they must be new.’

‘Yeah, there’s a couple of new faces around. We lucked onto some good talent for this season,’ he agreed.

‘Mmm, pretty too,’ you said, and though your words were casual you felt him stiffen, ‘I think her name is Kathy?’

‘Oh?’ he asked airily and though you could feel the heat of his blue eyes watching you you kept your face casual.

‘We had a nice chat,’ you said, ‘she told me you’ve really made this gig special.’

‘That right?’ he asked flatly.

‘Mmmhmm,’ you said.

‘Lori,’ he said ruefully.

‘I just think it’s a shame,’ you said continuing as though he hadn't spoken.

‘A shame?’ he asked confused.

‘Yeah well I know I said I didn’t manage to see the show before I came back up here but I caught some of it and well to think of her stuck being backing vocals when she could be great on her own is just a shame. Don’t you think?’ you asked.

‘Yeah,’ he said quietly, ‘yeah you’re right.’

‘I sure think so,’ you agreed. You could feel him hesitate behind you, no doubt trying to figure out exactly what you knew or whether to let it go but after a minute he pulled back and you turned to look at him for the first time since he had gotten in.

‘Everything alright?’ you asked with a frown that forced him to fake a smile and nod.

‘Yeah, I’m gonna get out okay?’ he said.

‘Okay,’ you said, placing a wet hand on his chest that he grabbed, taking it to his lips so he could kiss your fingertips. A feat that brought a genuine smile to your face.

‘Do you want food?’ he asked.

‘Yes please,’ you said.

‘Okay,’ he said leaning in to kiss you properly before he said, ‘take your time. I’ll order for us both.’

‘Okay,’ you smiled.

And then he was gone, moving from the room at lightning speed only just managing to throw a towel around his waist as he headed to the phone, yanking the receiver from its cradle before he punched in the number he wanted rather harshly. It didn’t take long for the line to connect, a sweet young voice saying, ‘hello?’

‘You told my wife?’ he asked in an angry whisper, listening to Kathy as she scrambled to sit up.

‘It wasn’t like that-’ she protested.

‘What the hell did you say to her?’ he snapped.

‘Not much I promise,’ she exclaimed.

‘How could you go behind my back like that?’ he said angrily.

‘But I thought-’

‘What that if you meddled in my business I’d just fall into line? That I’d just up and leave my wife because you’d decided you’d had enough-’

‘No of course not!’ she cried.

‘Because that’s not how this shit works you hear me? And if you don’t get that then maybe I was wrong about you,’ he spat.

‘Elvis,’ she whispered but he was on a roll. Too angry to bother listening.

‘You know what? We’re done,’ he snapped.

‘Elvis-’ he heard her whimper but he had already slammed the phone back onto the hook anger bubbling through him until he heard you say, ‘was that room service?’

‘What?’ he asked turning to find you standing in the bathroom doorway, unaware as to how much you had heard though on the off chance it might have been nothing he said, ‘uh no… the uh line was busy.’

‘Shoot,’ you frowned.

‘It’s okay,’ he said, ‘I’ll call down in a minute.’

You smiled and nodded, padding into the room and climbing into bed dressed in the nightie you had donned in the time since he had left the bathroom. Elvis watched you, wondering how you could be so calm when he was sure that you knew if not all at least some of it. As you offered him a sweet smile he felt his heart tug, the guilt creeping in as it did every time. He moved to throw his towel on a chair in the corner, changing into the pyjamas you’d lovingly laid out for him like the good wife you were. As he slipped in beside you, allowing you to cuddle into him for the first time in weeks, that thought consumed him.

He didn’t know why he did it. How his head could get turned time and time again when you were all he could’ve ever asked for. You were the perfect wife, the perfect mother, a friend, a lover and yet he never felt satisfied. Time and time again he’d think that the grass was greener only to find that they weren’t you. And so he’d come crawling back, begging for forgiveness. At least he used to, now it was this complicated dance the two of you did. The one where you pretended not to know what he had been doing so long as he nipped it in the bud when you asked. It was a flawed system but it was one that seemed to hurt you less. And if he couldn’t stop himself from hurting you, he’d at least try and make it somewhat better. He knew he was weak but he could give you that much. Which is why when you looked at him with knowing eyes and words that hovered around accusation but never landed he knew it was time to move on.

‘You know I’ve been thinkin’,’ he said clearing his throat which made you look up towards him, ‘about what you said.'

‘About what baby?’ you said laughing to yourself how you made fun of his floozies for feigning innocence when you were better at it than any of them.

‘Ka-’ he said stumbling over her name and instead opting for, ‘my backing singer.’

‘Oh?’ you asked, your fingers playing with his chest hair as you waited for him to tell you what you knew was coming.

‘Yeah, you’re right. She’s talented…maybe she’d be better tryin’ to get her own solo thing goin’,’ he said.

‘Oh no doubt,’ you agreed.

‘Maybe I’ll give one of the talent scouts in LA a call tomorrow,’ he said hesitantly, ‘help her out ya know.’

‘Why aren’t you sweet,’ you mused, your nervous heart finally settling as everything clicked into place. You knew it was harsh. You knew that you should’ve just been satisfied with him breaking up with her but as you pictured her smug face, the one that had expected you to roll over you couldn’t help but smile.

‘I just wanna help,’ Elvis said.

‘Well I’m sure it will. Sometimes people just need a helping hand you know,’ you said.

‘Yeah, I know.’

Women like you they're a dime a dozen you can buy 'em anywhere,

For you to get to him I'd have to move over and I'm gonna stand right here,

It'll be over my dead body so get out while you can,

Cause you ain't woman enough to take my man.

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892 @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @presleyenterprise @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @lettersfromvenus @louisejoy86 @ccab

#my writing #elvis #elvis presley #you aint woman enough #song fic #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis fic #elvis presley fic #halloween challenge #halloween

[jewishbarbies]

i know i sound like a meanie but OH MY FUCKING GOD this whole taylor swift-travis kelce shit is making me SO DARN ANNOYED i need to get it out somehow.

first of all, i used to be pretty neutral about TSwift. Most of her music was never my tea, but i liked folklore-evermore and some bits of midnights quite a lot. i considered myself a casual fan, i did not know neither did i care at all about what her life beyond her music was.

till this year: what a shitshow she's gotten into since breaking up with joe. why is her life suddenly a public spectacle that SHE herself is orchestrating and shoving down everyone's throat. the pap walks the obviously sightings with her "girlfriends" for pr reasons the "flings". tf is she trying to prove? what happened to her wanting a private and protected personal life?

it seems like she is trying to clean up her association with matty asshole healy from public memory by this sudden and out of nowhere "fairytale whirlwind romance" with a hunky sports hunk. it's so obviously PR motivated it's CRINGE. are people not seeing it.

and the public discourse surrounding it all- holy fuck. "taylor is finally dating a manly man" "no more emo actors/musicians for our mother" "they are like a highschool romance movie" "a man that is as rich as her who won't get insecure" "every girl wants to be an athlete gf" "taylor in her WAG era" EW. JUST STOP IT. everything i learn about them has been against my will and i dare swifties to go around saying "dont make taylor's music all about her love life she's more than that". NO GIRL THAT'S LITERALLY EVERYTHING THERE IS TO HER. name good one song she's written about something more profound than some guy she fancies and how he doesn't treat her well. i cringe even more thinking about how in a couple months this all will end and these same people will go with pitchforks against the dude.

apparently joe alwyn's biggest crime was just not wanting to be a part of this circus. i wonder how long will this go on truly. taylor's fame and influence has reached its saturation point i think, only the crash can follow. and oh boy will it be something to watch

#Asks #anonymoose #anti taylor swift #swifties dni

[samhaft]

Helloooo just wanted to ask a few things about the hazbin soundtrack!!

1. So, were the songs recorded with a live orchestra or was it made digitally? Because the composing on all the songs, especially the finale, was absolutely grand!

2. Who played Lucifer's fiddle solo on "Hell's greatest dad"? (I think it's a fiddle at least lol)

3. Thanks for reading and I can't wait for season 2!

Yooo, sure!

1) Most of the orchestra sounds are from digital sample libraries, which consist of real live recordings, so they’re not quite digital instruments and not quite live. All of the guitars were live, as well as a smattering of other instruments. My co-writer Andrew Underberg did all the piano himself, and he has an orchestrator who works for/with him named Keith Horn who I gotta give major kudos to, who fleshed out brass, string, and woodwind sections after we finished our demos. Keith is brilliant, and we’re trying to get him permission from Prime/A24 to post some of HIS process on his YouTube channel!

2) The fiddle was a live instrument played by one of our session musicians! In this case, the super talented Kristin Weber I believe.

3) Thanks for asking! ❤️ With all the attention the show has been getting, a lot of folks have questions so I’m more than happy to answer anything that doesn’t require me to break NDA!

#hazbin hotel #sam haft #hazbin soundtrack #andrew underberg #q and a

[loremaster]

me: ok i need to use my time wisely and edit some of these scans so i can--

also me: NDA BAND AU HEADCANONS GO

yakou: guitar (chords) + vocals. was used to being just a sad lonely man with a beat-up acoustic guitar, busking at the subway for minimal tips... until he put up a flyer and miraculously got himself a ragtag family of musicians to play along with. usually plays electric guitar for power chords (fills out the sound nicely) but will switch back to acoustic sometimes. he's got a good idea of what kind of sound works in the industry, and doesn't want the band to go down the same path of failure that he did as a solo artist... but his ideas can be a little outdated sometimes. these bright young musicians help open his eyes to the possibilities of what music can be. .....imagine if mr shue from glee wasn't a rapper or a creep no never mind i can't deny it any longer. he WOULD try rapping (and be bad at it)

desuhiko: guitar (lead). wants to do vocals too, but has to earn his mic privileges back after an awkward onstage confession to a certain reporter (and subsequent public rejection). his smaller fingers can't handle the same chord fingerings that yakou can (no matter how much he tells you otherwise) BUT he's real good with those fast licks and bright high-pitched melodies. he's CONSTANTLY practicing and coming up with new song ideas... which would be great if yakou wasn't constantly getting rickrolled at 5am

fubuki: the drummer!!! she keeps the time!!!! completely untrained, can't read sheet music, can't tell a sharp from a flat, but she's got powerful instincts (her internal sense of tempo is unmatched). as such, the language yakou has to use to direct her is a bit different than anyone else. think kronk in the kitchen. if he wants a slow latin 4/4, he'll tell her something like "gimme a smooth elevator ride with lots of clave" and she's got it!!

vivia: bassist. comes from an orchestral background but got fed up with the concert rigamarole. most of his classical music references are lost on the group. he's got an electric bass that he brings with him, but he keeps his concert bass at the studio because it's too heavy to lug around. he can often be found - you guessed it - sleeping inside the case with his arms crossed like a vampire. as the band's bass player he's usually more subdued, content to drone on in the background, but when he pops off, he POPS OFFFFFF

halara: keyboard. absolute fucking wizard who can sightread anything you put in front of them. classical etudes, jazz standards, pop hits, you name it. halara has a big ego and usually does not want to show up to practice, because they know they can nail any performance the night of (and they'd be right... if it wasn't a team effort). if you asked them why they chose to play piano you'd get an answer about something like demonstrating precision and skill, but the real answer is that keyboard cat has been living in their head rent free for... *checks youtube* 16 years

yuma: the roadie!!!! he's yakou's assistant who runs around venues flagging down stage managers, grabbing coffees, printing sheet music, etc. anytime the gang wants him to get on stage, he always denies any claims of musical talent, but one time desuhiko handed him a saxophone and forced him to play Run Away With Me and he did it perfectly the first try. what's up with this kid?

the band is called the Nocturnal Detectives and they get calls from people looking for actual detectives all the time

#rain code #master detective archives #mdarc

[painted-bees]

This little meetcute writing doodle has, funnily, forced me to really consider and figure out what, exactly, Raf's relationship to music is.

I think--though he calls himself a 'classical' musician, is classically trained, and skilled/practiced well enough to play for orchestras, etc--that'll he'll never again find himself playing in an orchestral setting nor on stage as a classical soloist. Despite his early training/intensive tutoring, his competition wins, and various childhood accolades within the classical scene, once he entered into early teenagehood, the script that was written for him began removing him from the classical sphere, and into popular culture.

The "Rafael Ephrem" character that his mother designed was intended to hit a "rebellious phase" in teenagehood where he grew "tired and bored of the stuffy pretentiousness of the classical genre", and began fusing it with pop elements--basically like Escala, but well before Escala. The initial narrative was "to bring classical into the modern era"--until the classical sound was eventually abandoned entirely, in favor of leading popular trends and topping radio charts. Lindsey Sterling-esque but with a much more aggressive, bombastic, monied PR machine backing him. Very flashy, very showy, highly performative music. He was a mascot for the Ephrem Records label, and as he moved out of the classical niche and into popular culture, he brought the label with him. As designed.

By the time he had applied to Juilliard, he was absolutely more of a musical entertainer than he was a Classical Musician. In part, he attended Juilliard to get away from Monaco and--specifically--his mother. But also, he wanted to prove to himself that he hadn't been reduced to a theme park version of the highly skilled, promising young classical "prodigy" he was as a child.

He was accepted into Juilliard, graduated, but burnt to ash. He emerged with the complete understanding that he had way, WAY more in common with a Lindsey Sterling than he did with a Hillary Hahn. For two reasons: 1) his classical skills among his Juilliard peers were middling at best and 2) He just...really...actually found himself longing to create and preform silly, flashy shit. He liked it. He liked playing loose and fast. He liked the unnecessary flourishes, thinking of clever, challenging little gimmicks, and putting on his cheeky, charming persona.

Which (to him) meant that, at best, maybe he wasn't cut out to be a musician really. Or at worst, his mom was right to script him and his career the way she did, and had done him a favor actually.

That latter thought hurt him so badly, he forced himself to commit to the former narrative; he just wasn't cut out for the kinda thing he really, actually wanted to be: a classical soloist.

So now, when people ask, he responds that he's not a musician--not professionally. He plays as a hobby sometimes, maybe, but he's a sound engineer by profession and that's all. It's great, he likes it.

He has no disdain for classical nor for popular/contemporary music styles. He'll argue that both are respectable and fulfil different niches, requiring completely different sets of skills. Classical music doesn't need to be passed through a contemporary filter in order to be palatably enjoyable to the average person, and contemporary music styles and musical entertainment isn't, in any manner, less respectable or less skilled than classical + orchestral. It's just different. Different music, different skill sets, different audiences. And he genuinely, fully, with his entire chest, loves it all.

What he doesn't love are expressed conversations/viewpoints/popular narratives that argue the superiority or appeal of one musical style over the other. "Classical is boring and stuffy", "pop music is soulless trash", "ANYTHING but rap and country". He'll look at you like you're a puddle he just stepped in and made his socks wet.

And he doesn't love to be remembered or identified as the popular "Rafael Ephrem" character his mother had created. He'll unmake that guy if it's the last thing he does; pull him apart piece by piece with his own hands.

#Hi-Note #rafael

[oceanicartgal]

Gonna try and start posting here more often. So I'll start off by introducing one of my OCs!

This is my deltarune OC, Gliss!

Background info

Gliss is a music-themed darkner based on a harp. She comes from an orchestral group composed (lol geddit?) of many musical darkners, where one day, she was held as one of the best performers by the group's conductor. But to the other members, this special attention sparked some jealousy. Some of these musicians started playing little tricks on her as "harmless pranks", but then they gradually got worse and went as far as carrying out cruel tricks and threats on her to sabotage her career. Some even being life-threatening. Fortunately she avoided those tricks...except one. One incident lead to her breaking her eye (idk how yet-). Because of this traumatic incident, it clicked to her that she gained a fear of physically falling apart. Being held at such a high standard and only being seen as valuable for her status and not really as a person was stressful enough, but now she was stressed by envious musicians in her group trying to take her down. Even if it means breaking her like a porcelain doll. 

One day, she no longer showed up to the orchestra group and ran away to escape this rich, stressful life and leave it all behind. Even if she is now free, she still feels trapped and feels she still needs to escape the grasps of her time as an orchestral star. But despite everything she went through however, Gliss still wants to keep making music. Just without fearing for her life and stuff. She also wants to be treated like a regular person and not just a valuable trophy.

Personality

Gliss is a reserved, yet kind lady who wants to be a musician. She has been through a lot due to her time in being a part of an orchestral group. Where despite having an upheld status by her overbearing conductor, many other jealous musicians in the group played cruel tricks and threats on her (one of which leading to her eye getting broken). Because of this trauma, she became very distrustful of other people. She really wants to be friends with others, but it's just so hard to put her trust into others as of lately. But despite all this, she still wants to pursue her dream of being a great musician.

Gliss actually used to have a different personality during her time as a musical star. But due to all that she was put through, her personality drastically changed and lead her to the person she is now.

But yeah that was my little introduction post about her! I'm still working on her writing and just her overall character in general, so please be patient with me on that-

#deltarune oc #deltarune original character #deltarune fan character #deltarune darkner oc #darkner oc #harp oc #musician oc #original character #might make her a secret boss oc? idk #gliss (oceanicartgal)

[akoiromanticstudent]

Maestro!Sigma headcanons

Did you ask for these? Absolutely not. Will I make some anyway? Absolutely. I'm obsessed with Maestro!Sigma.

He has a DMA - Doctorate of Musical Arts - with a concentration in Conducting and Piano as his primary instrument [I'm not just projecting - hear me out: he has big hands]

During undergrad, he double-minored in Music History and Astrophysics. [Okay, I am projecting]

Dr. Siebren de Kuiper... one of those pianist-conductor freaks that can conduct during a piano concerto. The eyebrows help. For example, Leonard Bernstein: https://youtu.be/cTO77dwm6uk

He also plays cello and a whole gamut of percussion instruments.

He's also pretty good at drumset actually, and believes that many orchestral pieces would be improved with the inclusion of a discerning and knowledgeable improvising drummer.

He's autistic! 100% He has synesthesia. He has figured out how to use the synesthesia to keep track of the orchestra.

He unfortunately, also, has a little bit of tinnitus.

He prefers to conduct without a stick, he prefers the freedom and flexibility of using all hand gestures, but he does keep a stick handy for clarity when coordinating tricky sections with his ensembles or when he's a guest conductor and he finds they aren't quite following.

Part of the way he compels attention is by unintentional intimidation - his sheer size [I mean height!], sometimes his conversational tone is off, sometimes he gets snappy if he doesn't realize that some sensory thing is bothering him [flourescent lights, electrical hum, a new dress shirt has Slightly Wrong Texture], and well, sometimes he gets snappy if you aren't trying to fix what he told you to do the first time.

There are definitely people that don't like him for that last part - you can't hide behind the rest of your section if he's conducting.

Part of the way he compels attention is the fact that there are a ton of musicians crushing on him at some level or another. What? He's gorgeous, and intoxicating to watch this behemoth of a man exercise such fluidity when he conducts.

[He is deeply oblivious to how he flusters some of his musicians as he does not make direct eye contact any longer than necessary to identify who he needs to assist, he's actually usually fixing his eyes on the musicians' hands for technique - another intimidation factor.]

Unlike most conductors, he's not amazing at metaphors unless he's prepared them ahead of time.

Whenever he was employed as a conductor/orchestral director in a University, and after he retired, he would usually also audit a high level Astronomy or Physics class every semester.

If he goes on a tangent during rehearsal, there's a 50% chance it's about space.

Big Star Trek fan. He couldn't pick a favorite series, though, his opinions are too nuanced to rank any entire shows. He'd find something to appreciate about each series. Even Enterprise, even if the theme song makes him want to vomit.

#siebren de kuiper #overwatch sigma #maestro sigma #overwatch #dr. siebren de kuiper #sigma #my sigma/reader fics are hidden from the tags so if you want to check those out... #quietinteger writing