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taetaesbaebaepsae · 3 years

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Lunar Violence (jjk)

Summary: You’re not a big fan of your best friend’s favorite band, Lunar Violence. Their werewolf gimmick makes you roll your eyes, even if the music isn’t too bad. When she drags you to a concert just as the blood moon rises, though, everything changes.

Warnings: werewolf sex, possessive behavior, choking, knotting, marking, heats and ruts so whatever consent issues you feel are within that realm, unrpotected sex, werewolf dick, abo dynamics

Word Count:7445

Rating: Explicit

You're not normally a fan of gimmicks, particularly with your music. So when your best friend begs you for a solid week to go with her to this concert, you're wary when you do a simple Google search.

Lunar Violence might be the dumbest fucking name for a band you've ever heard, but they certainly seem like they're going for a certain vibe. You'd definitely have been into it when you were a teen, the fake fangs, the facial piercings and torn leather pants, the howling they do at the ends of some of their songs.

The music itself isn't bad, the lead singer is stupid hot and has a smooth low tenor and bedroom eyes.

You flip through only a few of the member pictures before making a decision based on the fact that they're good eye candy, at least.

Your friend Jia jumps up and down excitedly when you tell her and shows you the signs she's made. She's got a thing for the one they call Happy, a lean bassist who has a bright smile and a sexy glare.

"What are with these names? The seven dwarfs? I think they're mixing metaphors."

Jia snorts. "They call the drummer Baby because he's the youngest. It’s not that dumb and the music is really good, you’ll love it, I promise!"

"This is so dumb. You owe me."

"If I get close enough to Happy to make eye contact I'm gonna make him mine and then I'll give you anything you want." Jia says determinedly.

It’s a few weeks before the concert, so you find yourself listening to a few albums and actually getting pretty excited about it. It should be a fun time, get you away from the stress of your every day life, at the least.

You had no way of knowing that the night of the concert would complicate your life tenfold.

“Do we always have to schedule concerts around rutting season?” Namjoon whines after hitting yet another wrong chord on his guitar.

“It’s the best part about this job!” Hoseok grins.

“I can’t fucking concentrate being horny all the time, I agree with Joon,” Yoongi agrees, banging his forehead down on the keyboard.

“Should have called you Horny rather than Lucky,” Seokjin snorts, and Hoseok laughs so hard he nearly knocks over his bass guitar.

Jungkook watches them with a fond smile on his face, his brothers. Not by blood, of course but being the only werewolves in the city made them have an instant connection and camaraderie, and they’d created a pack pretty quickly. The music had come later, they’d all been interested in it, all had some talent and all been blessed with good looks, and after that it was only a matter of who did what and stage names.

Kim Seokjin, with his regal looks and sharp jaw: Prince.

Min Yoongi, with the scar over his left eye he’d gotten scrapping with a grey wolf in the woods behind his house in Daegu as a pup: Lucky.

Jung Hoseok with his easy smile and eager nature: Happy.

Kim Namjoon, always so serious and intelligent: Beethoven.

Park Jimin, with his pretty face and sneaky smirk: Sly.

Kim Taehyung with his sweet nature and affectionate personality: Honey.

Finally, Jeon Jungkook, because he'd been barely old enough to breed when they'd met: Baby.

"Baby hasn't had his first rut yet, yeah?" It's Jimin, smirking, always giving Jungkook grief about something.

Jungkook narrows his eyes and chucks a drumstick at him but it's no use, Jimin catching it in one band and twirling it like a goddamn baton. Jungkook would say Jimin was graceful if he hadn't seen him fall off about a dozen barstools and half a dozen stages, sober even for the latter.

“Kinda late, isn’t it?” Seokjin speaks up, and Jungkook knows he’s teasing but it stings a little, nonetheless.

“He’s only just turned 23. You were two weeks from your 23rd before you ever popped a knot, hyung, or have you forgotten?” Namjoon snarks, and Jungkook snickers as Seokjin makes a face, that vein on his neck pulsing just a bit.

He shouldn’t laugh, they’re just as likely to come to blows during the beginning of a rut and in a full moon cycle, but he can’t help himself

Yoongi, as usual, manages to keep the peace by offering to order pizza and foot the bill, a truly saintlike act since they could go through a pizza each, as hot as their temperature would be running by now.

Jungkook doesn’t say that he’s had a knot for two years now, the very thought of his hyungs knowing that makes him blush so much he hides it by wiping his face with a towel, pretending to have been sweating.

Truly, he should have had a rut by now, triggered by all the pheromones' from the shows they’d been doing, this tour had been particularly rough due to the upcoming blood moon, at least for all the other boys, and it isn’t as if Jungkook hasn’t mated, of course, but a full rut? Not even the hint of it. It worries him, but Namjoon keeps assuring him that everyone gets there in time, people are just different.

Taehyung had been a late bloomer himself, not starting his first rut until he met and fell in love with his girlfriend, a short feisty redhead he’d met after a hand injury from stringing his bass guitar and slicing his palm open. She’d been a nurse who scolded him for not coming in sooner and it’d been almost instant, her green eyes triggering every wolf thing about him, or at least that’s how he tells it, all wide eyed and dreamy.

She’s a near constant in Taehyung’s hotel rooms now, sometimes riding along on the tour bus, but he doesn’t let her into anymore of the concerts even when she pouts, because human mates around a group of wolves around rutting season can be a dangerous time.

Taehyung is one of the gentlest wolves Jungkook knows, but he’d seen him snarl when Yoongi so much as winked at the redhead near a rut, so it’s probably for the best.

Anyway, Jungkook wasn’t worried (much). He’d find his true mate eventually, but probably not at a concert. Maybe he’d start his rut there, at least, around the full moon. He’d never have imagined that he’d find both.

The crowd is nice enough, although they seem a little feral. Some of these girls have signs that should be x rated, but you're not one to judge, especially since you've never actually….done anything too x-rated.

You feel a little strange when you enter the concert venue and you can’t quite put your finger on it. You shrug and blame it on the strong drink your friend had made you chug before you entered since she couldn’t finish it all herself.

It’s like there’s something living under your skin, some rush like heat, and it makes you feel antsy, ready to dance along to the music or at least laugh at your friend losing her mind next to you.

There’s a lot of gimmick to the concert and it’s bright and dark at the same time near the stage. You’d swear you’d seen the guitarist strum with no pick, with a sharp claw instead, but you’re sure it’s makeup, part of the show. They’re wearing contacts, too, you’re pretty sure, and the music is good, your friend isn’t wrong.

The song you’d heard that you’d like is actually their encore song, heavy on the bass and drums, and the lead singer even makes your skin feel hot a little when he makes eye contact and winks at you. The last solo the lights come down on the drummer, he’s on the back stage so all you can see is his long hair bouncing, the flex of his admittedly impressive biceps as he finishes the song.

You’ve been jumping up and down and singing along so much that you’re sweating and feeling a bit dizzy, so you drag your friend out the back alley while she’s still swooning, having gotten a direct smile from her favorite bassist.

“Did you see him? He looked right at me! We’re in love, Y/n. Do you want to be my maid of honor?” She’s babbling when you hear the click of a lighter next to you.

There’s people milling about, it wasn’t exactly a sold out show but there was a decent crowd, and people are now piling into the bar next door.

“Did you like the show?”

When you turn your head you’re shocked to see that it’s the lead singer, a couple strands of his silver hair falling over his eye as he smiles at you.

“Oh. Oh, yes, I liked it very...very much,” you stammer. He’s even more handsome up close. Those are some really good contacts, you can’t tell they aren’t real at all, even though surely no one’s eyes are a violet color like that.

“Sly!” Your friend screams, and you jolt forward, surprised.

The singer’s hand lights on your shoulder and you look down. You have time to think that they must make great money for these expensive special effects because they sure do look like claws before your friend rushes past you, yelling because Happy had come out the back with the rest of the band.

There’s no mob or anything, maybe a dozen people other than you and Jia, but it makes you a bit anxious nonetheless, especially since you’re still feeling just as antsy, hot and dizzy as you were before.

It might be worse, actually, as you stand outside in the moonlight.

“Sly’s just my stage name.” His voice sounds softer, closer to your ear as he leans in. “You can call me Jimin.”

“O-okay,” you stutter, unused to feeling this way. You’re usually more outgoing, talkative, but it feels so strange. You find yourself looking up at the sky as if looking for the moon.

It’s better, once you’re inside the bar, there’s not as much of a crowd and you’re sitting at a big table with Sly...Jimin, you remind yourself, and Jia and Happy, who seems to fit his name well, laughing open and loud with your best friend as if they’ve known each other forever.

After a few hours and a couple of drinks you’ve lost most of that antsy feeling since being indoors, and you and Jimin vibe well, becoming fast friends. You’re both flirty and talkative after getting to know each other, and your mood is lifted from the concert, the alcohol, and the socialization.

You even laugh about calling their gimmick dumb as they dodge questions about where they get their makeup and accessories. You assume it’s some kind of sponsorship situation or contract, not thinking much of it.

You manage to excuse yourself long enough to look for the bathroom, although Jia abandons you since she’s made her way into Happy’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and with a blissful smile you’re not sure you’ve ever seen on her.

There’s someone standing in the hall and it’s a narrow hallway and he’s pretty wide from the back so you stumble a little when you turn, placing a hand on the wall.

“Oh, excuse me!” You say, brightly, but when he turns you gasp, a little surprised by the bright red of his eyes before you realize it’s another member of Lunar Violence.

“Hello,” he says, quietly with a little smile and he has these prominent front teeth that are pretty cute, make him look a lot less intimidating, despite those contacts and an eyebrow piercing and his size.

“Oh, hello! You’re…”

“Baby,” he blurts, and it makes you giggle.

You feel a little tipsier than you’d realized, and you guess it must be since you’ve been sitting down for an hour or so and just gotten up.

He puts a hand over his face, embarrassed. “My name is Jungkook,” he explains. “I’m the drummer?”

It’s cute how his voice pitches up into a question, as if you wouldn’t recognize him. He’s definitely a bit more modest than the other two members you’d met, with Jimin and Happy (who you’d just learned also goes by Hoseoki), bragging about tours and performances.

“Pretty big for a baby,” you tease, and he makes an embarrassed sound in the back of his throat.

“I keep trying to get them to let me change it,” he mutters.

You introduce yourself and he smiles again, and his eyes aren’t as red as you’d thought at first, anyway, maybe it’s just the light. You brush past him as you continue to the bathroom after excusing yourself, and it’s a little zing through you, like static electricity.

It takes you longer in the bathroom than it usually would, that last drink really must have packed a punch, and when you return to the table Jungkook is sitting there, too, next to your empty chair. Jimin looks a little sullen and pouty, but he smiles at you, those violet eyes crinkling up at the corners, and you give him a bright smile back.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is all energy, jiggling his leg and tapping his fingers on the table and Hoseok seems to be watching him intently.

The atmosphere in general seems to have changed, and after exchanging numbers with everyone with the urging of Jia, you two excuse yourself.

The three men walk you outside and Jimin is close while Jungkook hangs back. You imagine Jimin is so close since you mentioned feeling a bit dizzy and he asks you twice if he can call you a car but you tell him that the fresh air will do you good.

It’s funny, the moonlight seems to energize you a bit. When Jimin leans in to kiss you on the cheek, you jump a little at a sound behind you, something like a bark.

Jimin jolts back a little, eyes widening, and you both laugh at your nerves.

“Stray dog,” you remark, and Jimin snorts.

“Something like that.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “So what exactly the fuck happened after I left?”

Jimin is sullen on the couch, arms crossed over his chest with a busted lip and Jungkook is sitting next to Hoseok on the floor on the other side of the hotel room with tissue up his nose, Hoseok tilting his head back.

“Baby is about to go into rut,” Taehyung sings, laughing, his girlfriend draped over him on the bed drowsily, his teeth marks littering her neck and throat.

“Don’t,” Yoongi warns. “Everyone’s just wound up. Full moon is in two days, after all, cut him some slack.”

“Sees one girl he likes and suddenly no one else can talk to her,” Jimin complains, gingerly working his tongue across his lip ring to see if it’s torn.

“You tried to kiss her,” Jungkook growls, and Hoseok pushes on his chest to keep him from getting up.

Jungkook can’t explain why his wolf wanted to rip Jimin’s throat out when he leaned in to kiss you, he’d just met you, didn’t even know your last name, but it was visceral, sudden, something crawling up his throat. He’d almost moved forward to do it before Hoseok said his name, sharply.

“We all get a little possessive about potential mates around the full moon,” Namjoon reasons. “But that’s not the way to handle it, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hangs his head and removes the tissue from his nose with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry, hyung.” He looks over at Jimin but he means it for Namjoon. He’s still bitter, somehow, about Jimin’s hand on your lower back, his lips brushing your cheek. It makes his head feel fuzzy, his guts roll.

Namjoon, on the other hand, had been the one to “discover” Jungkook, back when he had no idea why his eyes were starting to change color with the moon cycles or why his nails grew out like claws. He’d started learning percussion just to get rid of some of the energy he had around those times, and he’d been 17 when Namjoon approached him in a music store when Jungkook was looking into buying cymbals.

Jungkook had been abandoned when he was a baby, adopted at four years old and he had no idea about his wolf lineage, or even that they existed, until Namjoon explained it to him.

“Jungkook doesn’t know his lineage,” Namjoon reminds them all. “He might just be presenting as an alpha, that’s a lot around the full moon, Jimin, you remember.”

Jimin grumbles something under his breath and Jungkook has to take a deep breath through his nostrils, smelling iron from their scuffle earlier, in order not to lunge across the room and hit him again.

Eventually, Jungkook has to move to his own room despite usually bunking with Jimin, and he finds himself unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling. He keeps seeing your bright smile, your curls bouncing around as you talked and laughed, mostly at Jimin, and it makes him stiffen to think of how Jimin had met you first.

Why did it matter, anyway? You’re just a person, just like he is, just a girl, and he doesn’t have the best track record with talking to girls, anyway. You’d been in the front row, with your friend who Hoseok had gotten so smiley about, he’d seen you just before he started his set, his vision clearer around the full moon.

The others laughed at him for how he talked about “the wolf,” as if it wasn’t a part of him, as if it wasn’t who he was, but that’s how it had always felt. He just hadn’t had a name for it until he’d met Namjoon. It was like this thing, inside him, this beast, something that clawed and scratched to get out.

Seokjin keeps telling him that he’s fighting the wolf, that’s why he hasn’t gone into rut or popped his knot, that’s why he feels so achy and fidgety around the moon cycles, that’s why he hasn’t shifted. Namjoon would always respond there was no way to know that but Seokjin just rolled his eyes.

“Aish, I’m your hyung, listen to me. I fought mine, too, when I was young, and when I shifted I broke a few bones. You should give in, let it ride in the front seat once in a while.”

Jungkook had nodded at the time but now, he doesn’t know how to do that. Drumming helped, it was a lot of work and energy expelled and it felt like he could let him out, the wolf, just a little. It’s why he’d gotten so big, staying active and lifting weights was something the wolf liked.

The wolf came sometimes when he masturbated, too, when he’d feel particularly worked up around the full moon, after a concert, sweaty and rolling his hips into his hand.

When he tries it after meeting you, he can’t even finish, ending up panting and sore, the wolf still snarling over the memory of Jimin’s lips barely brushing across your cheek.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Jungkook who texts you first. Wanna go for a drink?

You’re not sure whether to say yes at first, you’ve been feeling so strange. You can barely sleep, your skin feeling hot, as if you’d burned yourself with a too hot shower. You think about that night at the concert a lot, Jimin’s violet eyes, Jungkook’s almost red ones, how odd you’d felt.

You would have talked to Jia about it but she’s been abducted by the werewolf band, apparently, you’ve barely seen her in a week and when you had she’d been littered with hickeys and with a big goofy smile.

Part of you wonders if this is all some sex ring cult but she seems happy, jubilant even, so you agree, meeting Jungkook at a downtown bar.

He’s there before you arrive, you can see him through the window sitting at a table, looking wide and a bit intimidating until he lifts his head and smiles at you with a little wave.

His eyes are a warm brown now, pretty and wide, you’re able to notice the shape more without the contacts.

Jungkook is still all energy, maybe that’s just how he is, talking to you more and more as the nights go on and you two share a pitcher of beer, scooting his chair closer. You find he flushes a pretty rose when you flirt with him and can’t stop laughing when he nearly falls out of his chair when you prop your legs up in his lap.

By the end of the night he can’t stop smiling at you and you’re intrigued, moreso than you’d imagined you would be when you’d first met him, smiling shyly at you at the bar near the concert. You start to feel funny again, your head fuzzy, probably from the alcohol.

When you tell him, he’s all wide eyed concern.

You giggle. “Now I know why they call you Baby.”

He huffs a little.

He walks you outside just as he did before but this time he doesn’t hang back, and when you reach the alleyway, he places a hand on the swell of your hip as you take a few deep breaths of the night air.

You’re surprised, laugh a little until you look up into his eyes. You’d swear they looked red tinged again, but surely it’s just the beer.

“Not a baby,” he murmurs, moving closer, pressing you up against the brick with his body, and you hitch in a breath.

“No?” You ask, boldly trailing your finger along his collarbone through the black tshirt he’s wearing.

He shakes his head, leaned down close enough to your face that his nose brushes yours.

“Prove it,” you tease, and he makes this rumbling sound in the back of his throat that makes goosebumps break out across your flesh.

He leans down further, nips at your lower lip, and you moan, body surging forward toward his as if it was made to fit it. You’re not sure if you kiss him or he kisses you, but his tongue is in your mouth, his hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

You feel hot all over, dizzy in the most pleasant way, at least until he pulls away, gasping.

You whine, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever made before, when he’s not touching you anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

He’s gone before you can even gasp out another whine of his name, and the moonlight on your skin burns instead of cools.

Jungkook tells this story in a burst to his bandmates the next day, hungover with his head pounding.

“You just left her there?” Jimin says, his face shocked, and Jungkook feels the wolf make a growl start at the back of his throat.

Namjoon puts a hand on his shoulder and it turns into a whine instead.

“I’ve never felt him that close, hyung. Right at the surface. I wanted to…”

Namjoon and Seokjin meet eyes above Jungkook’s lowered head.

Jimin catches it. Jimin catches everything, it’s one of the best and worst things about him.

“What? You think…” Jimin laughs. “No. She can’t be his.... She’s not a wolf, I would’ve smelled it when-”

Jungkook surges out of his seat, a deep growl rumbling from his chest. “When what, Jimin?”

Jimin’s eyes glow a pale violet as he snarls back, uncaring that Jungkook towers over him.

In the end, Namjoon and Seokjin have to separate them physically as they bark and snarl at each other.

Hoseok and Taehyung are missing, having holed up to ride out their ruts with their human mates instead of the house the seven share.

Yoongi huffs out a breath. “He’s definitely presenting as an alpha.”

“No shit,” Namjoon barks, unusually on edge.

Yoongi, Seokjin, and Taehyung are the betas of the group, and until now there had only been a slight difference among the bandmates despite their different rankings.

Alpha pheromones were stronger and their senses were more heightened around rutting season, particularly for other mates.

In the end, they have to completely change how they house themselves, with Jimin sharing a room with Yoongi, and Jungkook sharing with Seokjin.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jungkook says miserably, his wolf finally calmed as he sits down on the bed.

“It’s not your fault,” Seokjin says, voice much less harsh than Namjoon’s had been earlier when he’d scolded him. “I saw Namjoon during this time, and it wasn’t easy.”

Jungkook looks up at the elder with wide eyes. “Really?”

Seokjin snorts and nods. “Yeah, around the full moon he was unbearable, snarling at everything.”

“I just didn’t want to scare her or...or hurt her...I wanted to put her against the wall and…” Jungkook trails off, embarrassed.

Seokjin only smiles and ruffles Jungkook’s hair. “That’s normal too, Baby. You wouldn’t have hurt her, especially if it’s what we think it is.”

“What...what does that mean?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Something you gotta work out on your own.”

Jungkook groans and flops down on the bed as Seokjin laughs, heading downstairs to make dinner while things are calm.

He has trouble sleeping again, but this time instead of wondering why, he knew, could almost feel the soft skin of your hip on his palm like it was still there, how you’d moaned into his mouth, whined for him.

Jungkook isn’t sure there’s a cold enough shower to help.

You can’t seem to sit still as the full moon nears, feeling like you might jump out of your skin. You can’t count the number of friends you’d called but no one seems up to going out. You bite your lip while looking at Jungkook’s contact on your phone screen.

If you think about it long enough, you can still feel the way he pressed against you, how the hair on the nape of your neck stood up when he nipped at your lip, how hot you’d felt, how wet…

You sigh and scroll up, seeing Jimin’s name instead. Jimin had been fun to be with the night you’d met, easy to talk to, less….intense. And he didn’t make you feel like you were about to crawl out of your skin, so you ask if he wants to meet up for a drink.

It’s late, by the time you decide, and the moon is out, waxing toward fullness. There’s only a tiny sliver remaining, big in the sky, and you can’t stop looking up at it as you walk to the bar near your house.

You’d chosen it because it’s close and not because it’s where hot drummer Jeon Jungkook, also known as Baby, had pressed you against an alley wall and made you almost…

Jimin jolts you out of your thoughts, calling your name and waving as you approach the door. He’s leaned against the doorjamb, giving you a smirk and you think now you understand why they call him Sly.

It makes you smile and again, you vibe well with him, you get along in the best way, conversation is easy and you don’t feel gooseflesh or your hair stand up when he brushes his fingers against yours.

Jimin knows he’s playing with fire when he replies to your text, but they don’t call him Sly for nothing, and you’re interesting, for a human. He’s only met one other female wolf, a tall and feisty woman with a sharp tongue and the most beautiful brown eyes, but she’d had a mate and well...things hadn’t ended well.

Jungkook thinks of his wolf as this separate entity but Jimin disagrees, let’s his wolf do what it wants, so that all the bad things he feels have some kind of outlet. This was especially so after he’d lost his brown eyed wolf girl, so he invites you back to the house, knowing that Jungkook will be at the gym all night before the full moon tomorrow.

In fact, all of the others will be out, finding fun of their own, and why shouldn’t Jimin do the same? It isn’t as if Jungkook has marked you, or even can, since you’re human.

Your eyes aren’t quite the same shade of hers, but he can pretend.

Jungkook works out until his muscles ache but nothing can shake this feeling he has, like something’s wrong. When he leaves the gym even the moon looks off, as if it’s dimmer than it should be, and something’s pulling him home, like this tug in his gut. It feels like it used to as a kid in his first foster home, when he’d get so anxious he’d climb onto the roof and stare up at it.

He’s almost running as he gets closer, feeling his skin prickle as he gets to the house, his wolf so close to the surface he can feel the fur that isn’t there yet standing up on the back of his neck.

He smells Jimin first, wrinkling his nose at the alpha pheromones, and when he walks upstairs it isn’t as if he decides to let the wolf take over, or struggles with it - it’s instant.

You’re standing in the hall, head tilted up, and Jimin is leaning against the wall, smiling down at you, and when you lean up to just softly brush your lips against Jimin’s, Jungkook’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest, and the wolf barks, loud and warning.

You turn, surprised, and Jungkook doesn’t think, doesn’t act, it’s all wolf. He grabs you by your waist, hefts you up over your shoulder, and begins to walk you to his room.

Jimin protests and Jungkook growls over his shoulder, daring him to try something. Later, Jungkook is glad his friend didn’t follow, because he isn’t sure that he could have held the wolf back.

You kick and yell and beat on his back and Jungkook doesn’t realize what he’s done until he’s plopped you down on his bed, crawling toward you.

You kick him in the chest and it barely registers. You stand up and that’s when he snaps back to himself, at least to a degree.

"Don't leave. You can't leave." It's panicked, his voice, higher pitched almost like a whine.

"I can do whatever I want," you snap.

He makes this sound between a whine and a snarl and it's startling, strange, and you stop at the door.

"I know that! I know, but he doesn't!"

"He..." you turn to look at him and he's trembling, head down, and you step closer, worried. "Baby, what do you mean?"

Jungkook just stands there, still trembling, until you reach out to touch his hair, gently. "He thinks he owns you, that you're his, that no one else can touch you." He explains, almost in a whisper.

"Who is he?" You ask slowly.

He raises his head slow and you gasp when you look into his eyes, instead of a warm brown this burnt amber, red hued.

"The wolf."

You stand there, blinking in surprise, for a long moment before actively telling your feet to move to the door. Unfortunately, your brain seems to have some kind of disconnect to your limbs, because you just step even closer, lean in and inhale along his neck, this scent of sweat and the iron of the weights he’d been lifting washing over you.

Rationally, you know that you should be shocked, horrified, even, that werewolves are real and you’re apparently standing in a house full of them but all you can do is run your tongue along the vein in his throat and Jungkook is trembling all over, whimpering like a puppy.

“Y/n, please, don’t-” he chokes out.

“Why not?” You murmur against his skin, the scent of him making your body react like you’ve never felt before. There’s this ache between your thighs that you’ve only felt a hint of before and you want more, nipping at his skin, unable to think clearly.

“He wants to...wants you,” Jungkook stutters, balling his hands into fists to keep from touching you.

“He does? Or you do?” You ask, lifting your head to pout at him, and Jungkook groans.

“Both,” he whispers hoarsely.

“Then take me,” you say, and you don’t even know where the words came from. Your head feels light on your shoulders, dizzy with the scent of him, how his skin tastes under your tongue, and you do what he did to you the last night you’d seen him, nipping at his lower lip. Your canine pierces the skin and you taste iron on your tongue

Jungkook growls and lifts you again, this time with his hands under your ass and thighs and your legs wrap around him instantly. He all but throws you down on the bed, this time, and you whimper when he grips one of your thighs with his big hand, squeezing the flesh there.

“Mine,” he snarls, that high pitched whine at the end, and it makes you arch your back, claw your nails across his shoulders.

Jungkook leans down to sniff at your neck and growls again, wrinkling his nose and when you open your eyes he’s staring down at you with those red/amber eyes.

You look back defiantly but you’re rolling your hips against his, you can feel him hard against your core and even though you’d never gone all the way with anyone before you want him inside you, can’t think of anything else.

“You smell like him,” he accuses, voice hoarse, and his wide eyes fade back to brown, just slightly, the color dilating around his pupils.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, feeling something like guilt, even though nothing had happened, really, and even it if it had…

He rubs his nose against your throat, covers you with his body like he’s replacing any of Jimin’s scent with his own. He licks against your neck, bites down on your skin, making you yelp.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whines. “I’m sorry, I have to. You’re mine, I have to mark you, have to scent you anywhere he touched you,” he tries to explain, his hands skating down your ample curves.

“It’s okay,” you say, and somehow you mean it, you understand, the very thought of Jungkook smelling like anyone else makes your heart jump into your throat, something primal rise in your gut. “I know, baby.”

“You’re mine?” He says again, voice pitching up into a question just like when he’d introduced himself and it scares you, the way it makes your heart ache.

Instead of speaking you kiss him again, hard, moving your hands to his hair to get him closer. You had worn a skirt and halter out, it’s so warm even though it’s close to winter, your skin feeling so hot under the moonlight that you couldn’t wear much else.

Even as you kiss him he’s tearing at your clothes and you lean up to help him until you’re bare beneath him and panting, this whining noise coming from your throat that you can’t explain.

“God,” Jungkook groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I-”

“You haven’t...haven’t done this before?” Your eyes widen.

Jungkook realizes what you mean and he blushes a bit. “I’ve...yeah, I’ve done this before but not...not like this. I feel like...the wolf feels like...he’s been crazy. Since the first moment I saw you.”

“Like you’re gonna jump out of your skin? Always feeling...hot?” You ask.

Jungkook nods slowly, eyes widening.

“Me too,” you admit. “I don’t...I don’t know what it means. That’s why I came out with Jimin, I-”

Jungkook cuts you off with a choked whine. “It means you’re supposed to be mine.”

He snuffles against your neck again, hands at your hips, still holding back, trembling. “It means he never should have touched you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, even though you know you have nothing to apologize for. “I want you. I’ve never...I’ve never done this before but I want you so bad,” you admit, clutching at his tshirt, pulling it up until he gets on his knees and pulls it off, tossing it to the side. You spread your hands across his chest and he lets out a wrecked moan.

“You’re holding back,” you accuse.

He nods. “The wolf, he doesn’t….I don’t want to hurt you. Especially...fuck, no one’s touched you like this before?” His hands slide up and down your thighs as he stares down at your body, your breasts, the cleft of your cunt.

Jungkook knows that shouldn’t make him so hard, shouldn’t make his dick pulse in his sweats, shouldn’t make the wolf keen with pride. Mine mine mine, the first, the only is all his brain is chanting, he feels dizzy like he’s drank too much even though he hasn’t had a drop.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, but he can’t, can’t let the wolf out, he’s afraid he’ll rip you apart. You’re human and a virgin and he can’t risk hurting you.

The wolf won’t even let him say it, so he just shakes his head.

You huff out a breath, your body aching all over, need making your arousal coat your thighs. You don’t know what you’re going to say until you say it.

“Should I ask Jimin to do it? I bet he can smell me,” you taunt, shocking yourself.

Jungkook freezes, his eyes bleeding to red again and one hand jolting out to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t,” he warns.

You know you should be cautious since you’re about to fuck an actual werewolf, but fuck, you’re so hot, you can’t think, you need something inside you and you drop your feet to the bed, spreading your legs wide.

“Jimin would mark me. He’d fuck me, fill me full like I want.”

Jungkook feels something in him snap, and his heart hurts and his cock aches and the wolf is keening, clawing inside him and he can’t control it anymore, just like before.

“Never,” he growls, squeezes his fingers around your throat and you gasp, your stomach aching with need.

Finally, finally he slides his fingers along your pussy and you choke out a sob as his thumb slips across your clit but it’s not enough.

“Jungkook,” you whimper. “Make me yours.”

“Already mine,” he murmurs, and finally slides two fingers inside you, making you cry out. “You’re already mine but I’m gonna give you what you want, mark you, fuck you, make sure Park fucking Jimin never so much as sniffs at you again.”

“Yes,” you sigh. “Yes, please, please.”

Jungkook still worries somewhere in the back of his mind that he’ll hurt you, that the wolf will, and by now he understands they’re one and the same but you’re rolling your hips up and his cock feels heavy and full like he’s about to burst, somehow wider at the base and he rips down his sweats, fucking you with three fingers now.

When his cock bounces against his stomach you gasp, and if you’d been in your right mind you might worry he’s too big but something inside you is crying out in pleasure just at the sight of it. You spread your legs wider and he releases your throat, leaning over to kiss you instead, biting your lip as he slowly works himself inside you.

It’s a tight fit even after three fingers and you’re whining into his mouth, wanting more.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, far from it although a little less experienced than some of his band members (Hoseok had once bragged about fucking a house of sorority sisters during a rut), but the way you clench around him has his hips twitching, wanting to buck into you even if it would split you open.

Despite his worry, neither he or the wolf wants to hurt you, though, so he waits for you to adjust even as you beg, waits until you can take all of him.

He’s barely realized that he’s popped his knot until he looks down to see where you’ve joined and he groans. He knows how to do this, has been talked to (endlessly, by Taehyung, about his human girlfriend and how she desperately wants to take his knot and they’re working on it but it will take time and training), knows that you can’t take his knot but the wolf is howling for it, wants to fuck you hard and then pop it inside you, spill a littler into your womb.

You whine and pulse around him, reaching up to tug at his hair. “Kookie,” you pout. “Baby. Want you inside me, fuck me harder, please-”

“I can’t-” he chokes out, but then you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him deeper and the wolf growls, leans down, mine mine mine chanting in his head. My mate.

You felt a tiny pop when Jungkook first entered you, nothing painful and then just need, you want more and more and you don’t even know how to say it. You look up at him, near tears, needing something that you feel he won’t give you.

“I’m not yours yet,” you slur, and he looks pained, his eyes dilating from warm brown to amber red again and again.

He rocks his hips against you slow, and you’ve orgasmed twice already, once from his fingers and one from his cock but it’s not enough and you whine, it comes out almost inhuman, like his.

“Fill me up,” you urge, and Jungkook tries to hold the wolf back, he really does, but he’s too far gone, this close to the full moon and in the start of his first rut.

Jungkook groans, fucks you harder and faster and when you cry out his name his balls draw up and he thrusts forward harder than he’d meant to, popping his knot inside you.

You make a surprised sound and his eyes pop open, his hands cupping your face even as his hips twitch as he cums, spills inside you.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry,” he mourns. “I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry,” he babbles, kissing along your neck and throat, seeing that he’d already marked you twice, once on each side of your throat, and he barely remembers it.

You let out a happy sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, feeling finally sated, at least for the moment. “What are you sorry for, silly baby?”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” He asks, and you look up into his eyes and they’re heterochromatic, now, red hued amber and brown both.

“You’d never hurt me,” you mumble against his throat.

“Never,” he promises. “Never, I love you so much.”

You’re half asleep, sated with him still inside you, planting soft kisses on your lips and face. You don’t know where you’d learned the word, but it feels right when you say it, right before you drift to sleep.

“I love you too, Alpha.”

It takes a while to understand, especially between Jungkook being barely able to leave his room since he’s in rut and you’re in heat, but eventually, you figure it out.

Your great grandmother had been an omega werewolf, and it’s a recessive gene so you’d been the lucky one to receive it. Since you had never shifted because your gene wasn’t activated by male wolves, you had no smell.

At least, not until the full moon, when you shifted into what Jungkook says is the prettiest wolf he’d ever seen.

After, when you’d near your heat, Jungkook would snap and snarl at the boys so much just for talking to you that it made you roll your eyes, but eventually you got the dates right (for the most part, there’d been one instance in which Jimin had made a snarky comment and Jungkook had lunged at him and they’d gone rolling down the stairs), and you holed up in your apartment, instead.

Jungkook was working with Seokjin to understand that the wolf is him instead of some seperate entity. You tell him you’ve always known that. From what you know now, if the wolf wasn’t, he would have taken you the very first night. True mates are rare, and you’d both known it the whole time, even when you hadn’t.

You and Jia went to every concert, her always telling you her neverending sexcapades with Hoseok to be able to take his knot, front row, waiting for your Alpha’s set. It’s cute, you think, that they call him Baby on stage but he’s your Alpha, especially since he’s both, always, to you.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #werewolf!jungkook #bts werewolf au #jungkook imagine #bangtanshadowfamily #bangtanheadquarters #btscreatorscorner #btswritersclub

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edengarden · 3 years

Text

BNHA CONCERT BAND AU BC IM A NERD

IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS OR REQUESTS OR HEADCANONS AKSJHD PLS ASK ME I LOVE BAND I LOVE MUSIC AND I LOVE THIS-

Izuku Midoriya:

Boy definitely plays a wind instrument. I’m assigning him clarinet

Wants to be first chair so bad, he practices so freaking much I swear

ALWAYS. IN. A. BAND. ROOM. with Iida and Uraraka. They’re always practicing

He’s so confused with music theory, please help him. He just,, WHY is it minor?? WHY IS THERE A SOLO WITH NOTHING WRITTEN?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE HAS TO IMPROVISE WITH THE CHORDS WRITTEN OVER THE BARS-

Ochako Uraraka:

ALTO SAXOPHONE-

She’s also comfortable enough to play 2nd or 3rd clarinet if needed, or even soprano saxophone

Doesn’t have her own instrument, she borrows from the school and she HATES the reeds, they’re crap. When someone gives her a good reed, she CHERISHES it.

In jazz band also! With the same instrument, but she doesn’t feel ready for solos so she’s usually 2nd or 3rd. Bro when she has to switch from swing to straight she ALWAYS forgets and it’s the band’s downfall.

Tenya Iida:

TRUMPET TRUMPET TRUMPET TRU-

And he’s one of THOSE trumpet players, by the way.

“Sir the French horns aren’t tuned” yeah, he has perfect pitch

Literally plays flight of the bumblebee as warm up. Or has his own warm up scales. Never practices right before practice though, he thinks it’s “too late” for that

Has his own trumpet, it’s silver with hints of gold/brass. Takes care of it RELIGIOUSLY.

He HATES having to blow out spit onto the floor, but dude what other choice do you have??

Momo Yaoyorozu:

Sweet angel 🥺🥺 she’s an oboe player

Definitely bought her own instrument

Sight reading MASTER. she instantly gets the key bro, it’s so rare that she forgets an incidental

Definitely leads sectionals all the time. And she does it WELL.

When people (*COUGH* BASSES*cough*) slowdown, she’ll sway to the beat in hopes that they’ll follow her

Kyoka Jirou:

Electric bass or contrabass, give her either and she’s good to go dude.

Also has perfect pitch and knows her music theory WAY more than a high school student should know. She’s a genius.

Her warm ups? Jam sessions with Hanta and Todoroki. She just shouts a key and they go. It’s usually jazz, she plays a pretty constant pattern, Todoroki tries to improvise but hanta takes over pretty quick-

Definitely in jazz band as well. Also in a school competition band (like singer and stuff), also a one-woman-band. She’s in so many bands dude.

Shouto Todoroki:

TENOR SAXOPHONE

Also has a background in flute bc his parents wanted him to have ~versatility~

Knows all the theory in his head, like he knows what’s going on, he just doesn’t know how to explain it

*false note* “sorry my instrument isn’t warmed up, it’s probably my reed”

Has plastic reeds. And reeds ESPECIALLY for jazz.

Oh yeah he’s in jazz band! Loves that he’s like, the only tenor saxophone so he gets all the solos

Rikidou Satou:

TUBA PLAYER IN DA HOUUUSSEEE

Buddy actually brings the tuba home to practice, he drags that thing AROUND.

Always. Slows. Down. But no one knows it’s his fault most of the time, they blame Sero-

Firmly believes in the “basses are the foundation of the orchestra” mindset, he’s so proud to be a bass

Kouji Kouda:

Soprano Saxophone, but can also handle clarinet if the need comes (he just loves the sound of soprano sax you guys)

DEFINITELY in jazz band, but as a Tenor Sax 2 bc he knows if he went as a soprano sax he probably would’ve gotten solos

Is it Momo’s oboe?? Is it Kouda’s soprano sax?? No one knows the different except those two and Jirou

Plays Shostakovich’s jazz suite no. 2 as a warm up

DEFINITELY A SWAYER. He just gets into the mood of the music and SWAYS.

Tooru Hagakure:

Flautist!! She chose it as an 11 y/o bc it was a girly instrument but she really likes it lol

A mediocre player, she spends most of warm up with Mina tho, she thinks that she’ll get to warm up when she’s playing bc I mean— no one hears the flutes

Wanted to main the picolo for the sole purpose that it’s an Ear Destroyer. Aizawa heard the mischief in her voice and said no.

Sight reading?? What’s that?? She has no idea what’s going on, she just pretends to play and when she’s comfortable with the melody, she’ll just step in. NEVER notices key changes and signatures.

Yuuga Aoyama:

LASKHDSJ FLAUTIST!! Also clarinetist. He loves being able to stay where he is during practice even though he changes instruments it’s sort of funny

His cheeks get SO SORE when he plays clarinet though and he WILL complain.

“My flute is so heavy!” Kind of guy.

Definitely has his own instruments and takes GREAT care of them.

Wetting his reed with his saliva?? No, he plops it in a glass of water instead (the reeds are definitely his own, and expensive)

Tsuyu Asui:

Trombone gang bro.

Positions are burnt into her brain dude she’ll never go out of tune.

SO SMOOTH. SOOOO SMOOO- dude she plays so well?? It’s never spitty, but during jazz (yes she’s in jazz), if it’s a moody piece she KNOWS how to make it juuussssttt airy enough to be beautiful

Not that good with fast songs, but she makes up for her amazing ass vibrato and her range. GOD-LIKE RANGE.

Mashirao Ojirou:

FRENCH HORN!!!

Omg he plays like a king. And he’s so proud of being the ONLY one playing French horn, but there is PRESSURE, because a French horn is rlly tricky to tune dude. Have you SEEN it??

Always keeps his mouthpiece with him, as if he’s afraid someone will play his instrument?? Like no dude it’s good in it’s case but you do you I guess

He doesn’t stand out that much, but in the majestic pieces where he has a 5 measure solo?? He gives it his all and he pulls it OFF. Those moments are always the highlight of the piece

Mezou Shouji:

Bass clarinet!!

Once he managed to growl through bass clarinet and literally ALL the saxophone players were jealous AS FUCK

Buddy goes to a low E♭ like it’s nothing?? And then he goes up to like a high high C and you’re sitting there like THE FUCKING RANGE-

His warmups are like, quick scales and arpeggios. Bro he’s so steady when he plays and he could play for HOURS. Sore cheeks?? Don’t know her.

He so proud of being a bass clarinetist, but when he saw an octobass clarinet?? Aizawa better order one of those for him RIGHT. NOW.

Fumikage Tokoyami:

Baritone saxophone. Also lowkey really wants to learn bassoon because it’s such an old instrument

SKSKS he and Shouji sit next to each other, Tokoyami loves to read off of Shouji’s partition and create the WORST fourths you’ll ever hear. Even Midoriya told them to shut the fuck up once

In jazz band too!! Still plays bari sax

Such,, a good,, sound. So,, meaty,, and full,, and HOT. Bari sax is HOT!!

Plays moanin’s intro as a warm up. Search up the song. It’s bomb.

He loves to figure out new sounds with his bari sax. The Too Many Zooz type of sounds

Hitoshi Shinsou:

PERCUSSIONIST. Especially loves the bells, timpani, vibraphone and marimba.

He’s in the back judging EVERYONE. It’s so great for him, he gets to stand there and cringe and no one will know

Totally able to play 4 mallets like the king he is

Surprisingly enough, he’s rlly good in music theory. Like he could probably compose or transpose something no problem

Aizawa’s favourite, of course. Will ask him to sit in front while they play and circle the parts where he thinks something sounds off

Now that we’ve talked about the NORMAL band kids, I present to you,,, the gremlin band kids

Mina Ashido:

Percussionist as well!! She loves snares but you’ll see her pick up castagnettes even if y’all are playing something like Gymnopédie no. 3 she’s a bit confused but she got the spirit.

CANNOT READ SHEET MUSIC. Like notes?? No. She can do beats, just not notes. Let Shinsou figure out the ancient languages dude

Her and Hagakure don’t warm up, they just gossip together.

Did this to Bakugou more than once

SHE DROPPED SO MUCH EQUIPMENT LIKE HOW DID SHE NOT BREAK ANYTHING YET??

Denki Kaminari:

TRUMPET.

Buddy AIMS to have his spit land on someone sitting in front of him (rip Todoroki and Uraraka)

Thinks he’s cool because he plays trumpet, but he always loses count. God forbid Iida cant show up to practice because Kaminari will die

“Where are we? What are we doing? Which piece are we doing? Where are we starting?” Oh my god he’s so lost can SOMEONE please help him

Always gets in trouble during band camps dude. He and Sero are the Bad Brass duo

Eijirou Kirishima:

EUPHONIUM BABEY!! He thinks it’s so cool and he’ll get so insulted if someone calls it a “mini tuba”

DONT GIVE HIM SHEET MUSIC IN BASS CLEF HE HATES IT PLS JUST TREBLE CLEF

So!! Protective of his euphonium. His name is Johnny, by the way. He named his instrument.

When they finish practicing a piece, he’s the first to give feedback. Usually it’s good, like praises for classmates he heard and thought were really good!!

He’s so sweet. Willing to help others during practice and sectionals too!! It’s so sad that he’s literally on the other side of the room bc KAMINARI NEEDS HIS HELP-

Katsuki Bakugou:

Hehehe he’s a flautist. I’ve stood by this headcanon for like two years.

And he wants to be THE BEST. You never knew growling could be done through a flute until you met Bakugou.

CANNOT STAND slow pieces. He wants to go all out all the time, he always speeds up when the tempo’s slow.

Also in jazz band with what? Flute. Yeah, this is George Benson Time.

Will hit you with his flute if you ever think badly of him for playing flute. He’ll defend flute ‘till he dies.

Hanta Sero:

TROMBONIST!!! TROMBONE BABEY.

Will be so happy if he’s in charge of bass trombone?? Like yay??

Always wants to hit Bakugou’s head while playing.

Bro his playing style?? You know the like, lazy-ish trombone playing? But it’s just so full and smooth and heavy anyways? That type of shit.

In jazz band, he’s actually a natural at jazz, doesn’t practice that much so he’s like not even in a good position, buddy just slouches and sight reads.

I love Hanta sm guys I could talk abt trombonist!Hanta forever

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thatbanjobusiness · 3 years

Photo

One of the reasons I love watching Flatt & Scruggs and the Foggy Mountain Boys perform (instead of just listening) is because you see how much they enjoy the music and the company they’re in.

This group of musicians (Lester Flatt, Earl Scruggs, Jake Tullock, Josh Graves, Curly Seckler, and Paul Warren) played with one another for double-digit numbers of years. Even though there was some turnover and coming in-and-out, these guys played with one another tons.

Below Read More cut: pictures labeling who’s who.

Lester Flatt | guitar and lead vocals Played in this band 1948-1969 (21 years*☆)

Lester was the lead vocalist, rhythm guitarist, and emcee for the group. As his name indicates, he’s one half of the Flatt & Scruggs duo. He was always welcoming and homely when he talked to audiences. It’s hard to get some of the humor from him in gifs because lots of his jokes were verbal.

Some reasons I love watching Lester are:

He usually looks so relaxed and makes me feel relaxed.

When he gives introductions for the other bandmates, it’s usually a bunch of clever insults. For instance, “He represents Knoxville, Tennessee. If you’re not acquainted with the area, he goes to show that you can raise just about whatever they want to down there.”

When the announcer of the show, T. Tommy, introduces Lester, it’s usually some sort of joke or insult, too. The pure delight that pops on Lester’s face at a good joke is beautiful.

He straight out says into the microphone when someone makes a mistake. So much for “musical performance professionalism means pretending you did it right.” XD

Earl Scruggs | banjo (default), lead guitar (often enough), and baritone vocals Played in this band 1948-1969 (21 years☆)

Earl tends to keep a solemn poker face when performing. Hilariously, while he was known for being a very shy man of few words, and while Earl let Lester do ALL the talking in their performances... in these TV Shows, Earl is the number one most likely person to toss comments at bandmates in the middle of a performance.

Some reasons I love watching Earl are:

His comments mid-song are genuinely hilarious. I swear he’s sometimes trying to troll his bandmates to lose their composure in the middle of the song. It’s things like a bandmate singing a line complaining about their romantic interest, and Earl piping up, “Who? Me?” I don’t think he was trying to make it sound gay, but does it sometimes sound gay? Yes.

There’s a quiet charisma in how he plays, straitlaced, staring straight at the camera. He was a very humble guy, but you can feel the indisputable authority of his banjo mastery in his posture and notes.

Every single time they switch up the show (musicians playing alternate instruments, guests coming in), you can tell Earl loves it.

I may or may not have developed a celebrity crush on him. Shut up.

Burkett “Josh” Graves | dobro (usually), bass, rarely guitar, lead vocals (on duets with Jake) Played in this band 1955-1969 (14 years*)

Josh is one of the comedians for the band. When Jake was in the band, the two of them would work together as a duo, both to sing fun novelty songs together, and as a comedian act. Josh would play the straight man to Jake.

Some reasons I love watching Josh are:

He is an open book of emotions. I’d say he’s the easiest to smile and laugh of the group. I saw one song where, the entire performance, he was on the verge of breaking down laughing. Earl was off-screen making stupid jokes after every line Josh sung. Every time Josh started to regain composure, Earl said something new and broke the guy down again.

He is an extremely, extremely talented dobro player with great technical skill. Josh pioneered a new style of playing the instrument that hadn’t been done before. He combined multiple different ideas of musicianship together, including a lot of three-fingered banjo technique.

He’s very handsome, especially when he sings.

English “Jake” Pierce | bass and high baritone vocals Played in this band 1954-1955, 1958-1969 (12 years*)

For those of you who are like, “What the fuck are high baritone vocals?” this means that Jake is singing the baritone part but up an octave. So, Jake is singing the highest part, higher even than the tenor. Jake’s voice is a distinct, shrill, piercing sound and I love it. Jake is one half of the comedy duo and always plays the rascal. From the stories I’ve heard, Jake and Josh and their shenanigans were not that different offstage.

Some reasons I love watching Jake are:

Usually when he’s not doing a comedy routine or a novelty song, Jake has a serious expression on his face. However, he’s got a specific invested drive to him when he plays the music. And then other times, he’ll decide to be silly, such as the wild running across the screen you see in my last gif.

Jake and Josh have this perfect chemistry to them. They know one another so well and you can feel it in their body language.

Jake has a really good cadence and sense of timing when it comes to his comedy delivery.

It’s always exciting when a bass player gets a solo. That’s just a rule of bluegrass. And Jake has an aggressive sound I find unique.

John “Curly” Seckler | mandolin (usually), guitar, tenor vocals Played in this band 1949-1951, 1952-1958, 1958-1962 (12 years*)

Sorry I didn’t have any gifs with Curly in the forefront this round (though around the time I took this screenshot, Curly stuck his tongue out at Earl, responding to something Earl said). Curly tends to chill in the background a lot for these shows, playing rhythm mandolin and singing harmony. He’s one of the main vocalists for the group, doing duos, trios, and quartets. He’ll also pop in as a featured soloist, which is always a treat.

Some reasons I love watching Curly are:

I already mentioned the featured soloist, but I mean... those are a treat. He has a unique, simultaneously soft and piercing voice. Whether he’s singing harmony or a solo, his voice is something I pay attention to a lot. I remember reading in his biography that at one early point in his career, he was called “Radio’s Gift to Women.” AMAZING.

His mandolin solos are rare, and the group tended to tease Curly off-screen about his mandolin playing. But it’s legitimately fun when the mandolin FINALLYYYYYY gets featured in this band.

Paul Warren | fiddle, guitar (almost never), and bass vocals Played in this band 1954-1969 (15 years*)

Paul is the fiddler that made me want to fiddle. His style of playing is the old-time hoedown style, filled with double-stops and finger flurries.

Some reasons I love watching Paul are:

HE IS SO FREAKING BOINGY!!!! BOINGY BOI!!!! Paul’s a chronic foot tapper. In live performance recordings, you can sometimes hear him thumping away. I heard that during rehearsals, Earl tried to get Paul to stop by standing on Paul’s foot... but that would only result in Paul’s other foot tapping. Eventually Earl had to give up. Paul also throws himself up and down, bouncing energetically in the direction his bow is going.

You can tell how much he likes going fast.

I think Paul is one of the first people to laugh and gawk when another bandmate makes a mistake. Maybe I have selective memory on this, though.

* Anyone with an asterisk (aka everyone except Earl) played in Lester Flatt’s follow-up band, too, Lester Flatt and the Nashville Grass.

☆ Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs played with one another in the band that came before this. They met as fellow musicians playing for Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys. They were in the band together for over two years.

#I tried making captions for the gis #guess we'll see if they stick #thatbanjobusiness #that banjo business #music #hush I know I have a disproportionate number of Jake and Josh gifs in this set #I LIKE them okay #their body chemistry and the way they look at each other and play off one another is just #wholesome #General Banjo Business #Haddock Deep Dives #Dudes Behind The Music #One Of Those Fans #Flatt & Scruggs #hggg my boys #earl scruggs my beloved

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knightofameris · 4 years

Text

an outstanding performance — marvel (stark!reader)

Setting: an AU where Peter never quit band and Michelle, Flash, and others are also in band, platonic fic!!! Gender: Neutral! Contains: fluff Word Count: 3.7k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY HOLY SHIT)

Summary: Being Tony’s kid meant everyone expected you to be some prodigy in some way. And you were—a musical prodigy at least. The last year of marching band was approaching and you’re definitely gonna be heartbroken. But as long as you had Peter, Ned, and MJ by your side it’ll all be okay

a/n: I wanted to pump something out since I haven’t posted and I’ve always wanted to write something with Peter in band because I WAS A BAND KID IN HIGH SCHOOL. So. It’s also not my best work but I had fun because i reALLY MISS BAND. AND THIS IS JUST A COMFORT FIC FOR ME TBH LMAO [repost from my old account @knightofmarvel]

There’s a lot of band terms that I don’t think people will understand unless you were a band kid so here’s a little… mini explanation. This is what I used for my band by the way.

Sound off = just be louder I guess? Met = metronome The box = the area in the stadium where the announcer is always in Trumpet, mellophone, baritone/euphonium, tuba = brass instruments Flute, clarinet, alto sax, tenor sax, bari sax, bass clarinet = woodwind instruments Percussion = anything you can hit with a stick basically (including piano because piano keys control something that hits the string) Guard/color guard = the people who spin flags, sabers, and rifles. They also toss it in the air and do other crazy shit (deadass, guard people were so badass i dont get why people called them discount cheerleaders when guard works just has hard, if not harder. like u try tossing a fucking rifle up in the air. this girl legitimately went an entire show after splitting her brow causing her to bleed horribly and finished smiling soooo) Drum majors = people who conduct and is also basically in charge of the entire band Reps = doing something over and over, usually a certain exercise in music or marching technique or a certain part(s) of the show Set = Can mean multiple things, either a certain part of the show or getting ready for the rep they’re about to do (usually shown by holding the instrument up in “set” position) Stand-by = relaxed but still in attention Holding at pistol/rifle = more relaxed but usually saved in show or when instructors/whoever tells stories. Different instruments have different positions thus the pistol/rifle Horns up = instrument in mouth Horns down = instrument not in mouth, same position as Set.

Let me know if there are any mistakes! **no beta, we die like men

Enjoy!

“Senior year boyyysssssssss!” You screamed once you entered campus that warm summer morning. Ned and Peter turned around to see you running towards them, about to tackle them. Other band leaders, and especially the senior drum majors, cheered with you.

Ned and Peter, however, did not.

Instead, their eyes widened in fear and they raised their arms up, telling you to not jump at them. But alas, it was too late and you tackled them to the ground.

“Dog pile!” Someone, Adam (one of the drum majors) probably, shouted. And one by one, a group of your fellow bandmates fell on top of you. Each one of them caused you to let out a breath. Peter and Ned taking the brute of it.

“Alright alright, you idiots,” your band directed teased. You all looked up to see Mrs. Ha standing there with her hands on her hips. “Get up, you guys are scaring the freshmen.” She glanced over to the bandroom door where tiny heads were sticking out.

“Oh shit,” you muttered, everyone starting to stand up off of each other. You raised both of your hands down for Peter and Ned, they both took it and you helped them up.

“Damn, (Y/n), why’d you have to do that?” Ned asked. He then reached down for his hat. Something that was mandatory for all band members to wear during practice. Especially during band camp in the summer.

“It’s tradition!” You cheered, wrapping your arm around each of their neck. “Can you guys believe it? We’re seniors.”

“Yeah, and you’re woodwind captain man,” Peter nudged you in the side.

You grinned and then walked in front of them to grab your backpack, clarinet case, and water jug. You turned around once they were all in hand. “Yeah, but at least I got my two trusty section leaders to lead with me.”

“What about me?”

The three of you turned around to see MJ with her hand on her hip. She had a slight smirk on her face.

“Uh,” you started to say, “to be fair, you’re in the brass section.”

“You could have switched,” MJ retorted, walking up to you and lightly punching you in the shoulder.

And you could have. Afterall, you were a musical prodigy. Especially considering the fact that you were the kid of Tony Stark. You didn’t have much of a knack for STEM, decent at it but only when you put in the extra work to the point of stress. But you had a knack for music.

Your dad noticed your gravitation towards music when you were a toddler and when you didn’t enjoy being in the lab as much as he thought you would have been, as a Stark. But you enjoyed music so he signed you up for piano classes. Then you wanted to learn more instruments and made your way through the wind instruments and then more percussion instruments. From flute to clarinet to alto saxophone, from trumpet to french horn, to, of course, piano and the drumset. You had a lot of range. The clarinet being your favorite instrument to play.

You narrowed your eyes at MJ, “But then you wouldn’t have been brass captain. And do you think I can leave the woodwinds to be left in charge by these losers?” You pointed to Peter and Ned.

“Hey!” They both protested.

“Guys! Roll call is soon and they’re introducing all the leaders to the entire band,” Adam said, holding the metronome in his hand.

“Yeah, got it,” You and Michelle said, both with a slight authoritative tone in your guys’ voice. You both exchanged glances with a raised brow.

“Wow, the captain in you guys is really coming out,” Peter teased. You both rolled your eyes. You went to go walk beside Michelle. On the way into the bandroom.

“Oh man, I just hope I don’t accidentally make a freshman pee their pants this year.” You walked straight into the bandroom and Peter laughed, remembering that clearly last year when you were section leader.

“I just don’t want to do running block,” Ned complained, trudging behind you. “I hate band camp.”

“Ditto,” MJ remarked. Peter shot her a look.

“Shouldn’t you be hyping it up, for the freshmen?”

MJ shrugged, “Yeah, but I can complain to you guys.”

“Fair enough.”

***

“Sound off guys!” You shouted as the band did reps across the field in across-the-floors. In a moment, the voices of the members got louder, counting in time with the met. You looked around yourself, making sure there were no members dicking around too much. With it being so far into the marching season already, you didn’t want any of them to dick around so much where they’d regret it if your guys’ band didn’t perform to the best of your ability at your last competitions.

Your eyes met Peter’s as he prepped to step off on the other side. He stuck his tongue out then faced forward with his clarinet in hand. His mouth moving with his voice being just loud enough to be heard as he began to count off. He was the backline with three other freshmen near him who didn’t count at all. All three of them clarinets as well.

You called out their names, telling them to sound off until one of the visual instructors cut the metronome. Peter continued, trying to keep time without it loud enough for the freshmen to stay with him.

“Alright, stop!” The instructor, Alicia, shouted. Peter stopped, relaxing his arms and putting his clarinet in his hand with standby. The entire band stared at him in silence, waiting for what he had to say. “We have three more competitions to go. One more football game. And then we have Grand Nationals. We’ve been doing this since June. It’s October! I’m doing all I can to push you guys, it doesn’t matter if you’re a freshman anymore. You’ve been in this program so you know what we expect. In the end, it’s up to all of you guys how bad you want it. Do you guys want to make finals?”

A chorus of yeah’s came from the students. Something caught your eye as the instructor continued to talk. Flash was dicking around, mocking the instructor and when the instructor was quiet you called him out.

“Hey Flash, why don’t you run a lap?” You asked. Lucky you, he was an alto saxophone, so completely in your control.

“Wh-What? Why? I didn’t do anything,” Flash argued. You raised a brow.

“Oh really? So you weren’t even listening to Alicia as she was talking?” You retorted. “You said you weren’t doing anything right? I guess that’s still a lap.” Someone next to him nudged him, telling him not to argue and he groaned.

He walked off to the side, setting his instrument down.

“Next time, don’t mock her when she’s trying to help us. Especially since you’re the only senior who doesn’t sound off.” Flash glared at you while you kept a smirk on your face.

He murmured, “Fucking Stark.” Then went off into the run. That’ll earn him a talk after practice.

“Thanks, (Y/n),” Alicia said, shooting you a smile. You gave her a nod

Percussion and color guard began walking into the stadium and prepped to practice with the rest of the band.

“Alright, I’ll cut this rep short, go grab a gush and wait for instructions,” Alicia ordered. The teenagers began to run off the field and towards their water jugs were with their own section.

“I don’t get why Flash is even more annoying,” Peter muttered. You and Peter watched Flash continue to run around the track as you drank water from your jug.

“It’s probably because he didn’t get any leadership position,” Cindy suggested. She stood next to you two, also a clarinet section leader.

“Yeah, well, Ned deserved the alto sax position,” you said. “Not Flash, he’s an asshole.” The other two nodded their heads.

A high pitched whining noise came from the box and everyone flinched and groaned, staring up at it.

“Oh, sorry guys,” the band director, Mrs. Ha, said. “Hornline captains, lead the warm up for your section. Mr. C and I won’t have enough time this practice.”

You turned to face your section, calling out to them and raising your instrument in the air. You led them to wear the respective drum major that conducted for the woodwinds for warm up stood on her podium. Everyone was wetting their reeds in their mouth, save for the flute players who stood in arc warming up their instrument. The reed players began placing their reeds on their mouth pieces, then also warming it up a bit. You walked around, talking to a few of the leaders here and there. Then walking up to one of the seniors in the clarinet section and making them center while also handing them a tuner for later.

With a wave of your hand and your fist closing, everyone stopped playing.

“Stand-by,” you called out. Each member stopped fidgeting and their ears looked to you attentively. “Set!”

In a ripple effect from the edge of the arc to the center, everyone brought their horns up. You smirked. “Nice job guys, we’ve come a long way since freshman band camp. Same warm up, make sure to watch the hands.” You pointed up to the drum major, Kay, who stood on top of the podium.

“Stand-by,” she called out once more. “Doing the woodwind warm up and make sure to watch my hands. Set!”

The rest of practice went by smoothly. The drum majors standing on the podium, instructors up in the box telling instructions through a mic for the head drum major to repeat. The entire band doing what was told. Parents sat in the stands watching their kids practice.

You could have sworn you saw your dad and a few others in the stands that practice. But you paid it no mind, he’d usually come to competitions but he had never gone to a practice.

So when practice was over and the band was dismissed, you, Peter, Ned, and MJ began to set back to the bandroom after all the underclassmen cleared out from the stadium. And after you gave Flash another stern talking about attitude and disrespecting instructors and leaders. Which led to him running a lap and then doing push-ups.

You and MJ were pushing the huge water jugs back as well, all of your stuff riding on the bottom of the cart with MJ’s. All four of you were joking around when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey kid!”

You jolted, turning around to see your dad standing there with Morgan on his shoulders. Rhodey, Pepper, Steve, and Natasha stood next to him, all of them with a smile on their face.

“Dad!” You called out, letting go of the cart and running up to him. Tony quickly set Morgan down and you hugged him. He let out an ‘oof’ on impact but hugged you back. “You’ve never came to practice before!”

“Well, I thought I should,” Tony said, kissing the top of your head. “You stink.” You tore away from him, laughing when you noticed his scrunched up face.

“Yeah, my hat’s kinda gross from practice.”

You turned to face Morgan and picked her up, setting her on your hip. You looked at the others, “Why are you guys here.”

“Got bored,” Rhodey answered. “Then thought, we might as well see what the musical Stark was up to.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“You’re so cool, (Y/n)!” Morgan hugged you around your neck. “But scary. Just like mommy!” Your dad and you chortled with laughter and Pepper shook her head, grabbing her out of your arms.

“Yeah, you yelled at that kid for a good ten minutes,” Nat said. “Good job.”

“I’m surprised,” Steve spoke up. “I didn’t realize marching band was modeled after the military bands until Rhodey told me.”

“Yeah, you never came to one of my shows,” you playfully glared at him. But you began laughing and hit him lightly. “I’m kidding, you guys are always busy. But-” you looked at them, hopeful “-my last football game is this Friday. Then three more local competitions until Grand Nats in Indiana.”

The adults exchanged glances with each other.

“Well, you know Pep and I will be at Grand Nats,” Tony said, ruffling your hair.

“And me!” Morgan added.

“And Morgan,” Tony laughed.

“We’ll… Try.” Steve scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, (Y/n).”

“It’s cool,” you replied nonchalantly. “You guys are Avengers, other priorities.”

“Not to interrupt, but your friend looks like she’s struggling with the jugs.” Rhodey pointed behind you, and you saw MJ trying to push the jugs over a whole in the ground. Peter and Ned stood there, laughing at her. Your eyes widened and you bolted over to her after passing Morgan to your dad.

“Oh shit, sorry!”

***

The band sat in the stands, playing pep tunes whenever they were supposed to while the football game went on. You, of course, were dicking around with Peter and Ned. Ned sat behind you with his section and you sat beside Peter on the edge. MJ was far off in brassland, reading a book since she hated her section. She really hated trumpets.

Then the drum majors motioned to the saxes that they could do their thing and Ned stood up, ushering his section to stand up as well. You smiled, as this was one of your favorite traditions during football games.

Ned played the first note, and everyone following after. The tune of ‘Beautiful Girl’/’Stand By Me’ leaving the horns. There were a few pitch problems, but it’s not like it was a competition. Football games were always one to just relax, have fun, and do dumb shit.

Mrs. Ha even watched with a smile on her face.

“How do you think MJ’s faring?” You asked Peter. He looked back.

“Still reading her book,” he replied. “Dude, this is the last time we’re ever gonna hear Stand By me.”

You shoved Peter, “Bruh, don’t talk about it! I’m gonna cry.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he said. “This is the last time we wear our uniform for a football game.”

“Peter!”

Peter laughed, raising his arms up in the air to block you from trying to smack him.

“Man, I’ll just do Drum Corps or whatever after this,” you muttered after giving up on hitting Peter.

“You could, that’d be badass,” Peter said. “Maybe do like percussion like tenor drums or something.”

You nodded your head, “I totally should. I’m gonna miss band a lot.”

“Me too,” Peter sighed. “But at least we can focus more on our other extracurriculars.”

You raised a brow at him. “You mean your internship?” Peter nodded his head. “You should’ve just quit band man.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, but band is fun and you’re still in it with your internship. Though, I think MJ would have found out a lot sooner if I did though.” You laughed, remembering how MJ was only slightly thrown off on Peter possibly being Spider-Man because of how he was able to be in band and a superhero. Though the same applied to you

“Okay, sure, but I don’t do missions on season, and I fight crime a little less,” you retorted. He laughed again at you, eyes filled with amazement. You were cheering at the football team, not that you knew what was going on. Just, everyone else was cheering plus it was fun.

Peter was always amazed at how smoothly you fit into the leader role, something that would put you at an advantage if you ever led the Avengers in the near future. It definitely helped when you led groups in missions or when none of the older adults were around in times of crises. Then whenever a freshman was upset or a band member got injured on the field, you always somehow ended up right next to them. Even tripping while running across the field but falling into a roll then jumping back up, then carrying said injured member off the field to make sure they were okay.

He laughed to himself, remembering each moment he shared with you and all the other band members. He’s going to miss it a lot, but he knew you’d miss it even more.

***

The sounds of cheering, the rush of adrenaline, the musical notes and perfect harmonies accompanying the melody reverberated throughout the stadium. Then when the last note came out of your horn and everyone snapped their horns down, panting and sweat glimmering on everyone’s forehead, you smiled. You started almost laughing with tears coming down your face.

You enjoyed jumping off buildings to feel the adrenaline and going through the city but that could never compare to performing. Especially considering all the hard work you, and the entire band, put in for this particular moment. Your smile widened even more when you saw both of the senior drum majors on the podium in front of you also smiling, panting, but tears in their eyes.

Then the bass drum hit and in time with the beat, the members marched off the field or went to their respective prop to push it off the field. You were part of the latter, meeting up with Peter at the same prop.

He flashed you a smile, “Don’t cry yet (Y/n), we gotta wait before the senior traditions.” Then you only started crying more when you realized you wouldn’t be on the receiving end anymore. You would be the senior participating in said traditions. You wiped the tears off with your gloves.

“Shut up, Peter,” you laughed. “I can’t help it, we made it into finals. That was our final performance.”

“Was it your best performance?” Peter asked. You just started bawling more, nodding your head. At this point you weren’t even pushing the prop, but you knew Peter didn’t even need help, being Spider-Man and all. “Then that’s all that matters.”

When the entire band made it out in the -5 degree cold air, putting their instruments away and giving the props to the band dads to put away, you finally stopped crying. Mostly because tears in this weather was always an ass with how cold it is, especially considering the uniform doesn’t give you any warmth. Before your band director could round everyone up to talk about how it was the best performance your band had ever performed this year, that it didn’t matter what place you got, you felt a small body wrap around your legs.

“(Y/n)!!”

“Mo! What are you doing?” You asked, picking her up into your arms. She was bundled in warm clothing and you saw your dad and Pepper. Then even in the distance, you saw the Avengers which made you beam.

“That was great,” your dad said, kissing the top of your head.

“Wait! No PDA in uniform.” you took a small step back. He rolled his eyes. “Kidding, I don’t care anymore. Thanks dad.” He ruffled your hair the moment you gave your shako (hat) for Morgan to hold.

“Yeah, honey, even your solo was amazing,” Pepper said, fixing your hair then kissing the top of your head.

“It was…” Morgan paused, her face scrunching as she went deep in thought. “An outstanding performance!” Morgan cheered, hugging you tightly. You, Tony, and Pepper exchanged glances.

With a raised brow, you asked, “Where’d she learn those words?”

“No clue.” Tony shrugged. Then he grabbed his dad-bag and pulled out a few cards and even small gifts. “By the way, this is from everyone. They’ll come stop by to say hi but after they have a mission to get to.”

A small smile made its way on your face and you even started crying again. Tony wrapped an arm around your shoulder, rubbing your arm up and down. Morgan held onto you even tighter and Pepper placed a comforting hand on your hand.

“Thank you for coming, I’m gonna miss this so much,” you sniffled. Looking around you at your bandmates and all the joyful tears being shed, the hugs, the laughter. None of them were even staring at your dad in this moment because of the last performance. Which says a lot. Well, save for a few but it didn’t matter.

“I know,” your dad said softly. “But you got to experience it and I am so proud of you, (Y/n). Section leader and then woodwind captain? Amazing. I can barely play piano for the life of me.”

You chuckled, “I can’t code for the life of me.”

“But one thing’s for certain,” Pepper said. “Starks are always a natural for their passions.”

Your band director called for everyone to gather around to give them one last after-performance talk for the end of the season. You stood next to MJ, Peter, and Ned. Some of you with tears in your eyes, but all of you with a sense of satisfaction coursing through you. Four years of band was difficult, but you all made due with each other.

You glanced back, towards your family and the other Avengers and you were so happy to know that there on the field, you knew they were all watching. They all supported you through your musical career and would never stop.

Then the drum majors dismissed all of you and you turned to try to talk to your family once more, even making eye contact with Steve until all the freshmen and other underclassmen bombarded you with hugs and being all teary eyed.

“Hey, don’t worry about it guys,” you mentioned, looking at Peter, Ned, and MJ, trying to get them to help you out, “I’ll be doing drumline this year, I’ll still hang ‘round the bandroom.”

Tony chuckled, watching you talk to the younger teenagers and hugging each of them. He was proud of you, no doubt about it.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x neutral!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x stark!reader #platonic!reader #a.writes

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monotonous-minutia · 4 years

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Cendrillon (Met 2018)

Started last night, fell asleep halfway through (it was a weird day), the post somehow survived without being saved and here we are.

I wonder if there are any spoilers on the walls.

POWER TO THE TROUSER ROLES mezzos rule (I know that’s not what he meant but given there’s a trouser mezzo in this opera I can’t help but wonder if it’s a pun)

second time I’ve seen her as Cinderella and so far Massenet’s is more depressing than Rossini’s

okay this is a bit trippy

I love her so much

those horses area liiiiittle creepy

Prince is sassy

okay that ballet or whatever was super weird and a little disturbing tbh

and it’s just going to keep getting weirder isn’t it

he’s having it about as much as I am

now things are happening very quickly also I’m getting a lot of Greek Chorus vibes from this piece

what am i supposed to focus on i can’t keep my eyes off either of these two i think my head is going to explode

yeah definitely more depressing also subtitles please quit it with the question marks, this is week 16 you should have it figured out by now

the choreography just keeps getting weirder but Kim was made for this role so I can forgive it I suppose

wait what

but apparently you don’t get a name

hello goodbye i’m dead

so wait that WASN’T the happy ending?

oh dang well that happened also what is it with these French bass-baritone dads that just stand there while their children lie dying on the ground

cause of death two mezzos being insanely adorable and in love

sure mom, sure

I mean you had me going there for a while also Lucette’s smile ahhh

meta af

come on cowards let your mezzos kiss onstage

I still love her despite her unexpected moral ambiguity

This was my first time with this opera and it was very interesting. A lot of unexpected twists and turns and very depressing at points; it’s been a while since I’ve read the original original fairy tale so I’m not sure if it’s going for greater accuracy or if Henri Cain likes torturing audiences or if Massent’s music just lends itself best to depressing (the only other operas of his I’ve seen/heard are Thaïs and Werther so).

The fact that the Prince is a mezzo though sold me 1000% because, well, you know me...

I kinda want to talk to the choreographer to see what exactly was going through their mind with this production because the dance sequences were super weird and (as mentioned above) a little disturbing...like at one point it insinuated that they ate the Prince...which...how does one come up with that, let alone have the place of mind to pull it off...

the set was interesting though, with all the text on the walls from the story. It really lent itself well to the surreal sound of the music (which was fantastic at evoking the fairy tale feel) and the strange, extremely flowery libretto. The costumes for the supers were pretty Extra and I get they were going for a comic feeling but it was kind of distracting and didn’t really suit the more somber feel of this piece.

even if the production had been terrible though it still would have been worth it because this cast was phenomenal. Like a production with just one of them would have sold me but ALL FOUR IN ONE PLACE like seriously it was a diva awesomeness overload and that might have been part of the reason I couldn’t finish it in one sitting.

For one thing, Joyce DiDonato pretty much owns the role of Cinderella now in any incarnation and it may be my personal opinion or it could be fact, who knows. I can’t get over how amazing and versatile she is and that voice and her face and she’s so cute and her acting is on point and her expressions and her chemistry with the other performers and and and ahhhhhhhhhhhh she pulled off the smol sweet fragile tiny adorable sad selfless spritely little Cinderella so well and I died.

Kathleen Kim as the Fairy Godmother was a stroke of genius. She was so PRETTY and her voice matches the character perfectly and all her little quirks and expressions really portrayed the depth of this character who was a very surprising incarnation. She’s not the totally sweet, altruistic fairy that we’re used to. Idk what her whole plan was, or her motives, of if it’s just a French Opera Thing that everything has to be more complicated and it’s not complete if all the heroes aren’t at the brink of death at some point, but whatever the reasoning, Kim OWNED it and despite my initial disbelief at the unexpected twist she convinced me. I don’t think just anyone could pull that off. Kim is something special.

I haven’t seen her in as many things but imo Alice Coote is one of the best trouser mezzos. I don’t really get into gendered appearances or ways of moving around because gender is fluid and not binary etc. etc. but for the sake of storytelling and character portrayals DANG (WO)MAN she nails it to the point that if I see her in an interview or something offstage I invariably think “Oh, what, she’s not actually a boy” ALSO she is just EXTREMELY cute and sassy and I love her expressions and pretty much everything about her so yeah. Also I can’t express my nerdy happiness that the two leads are mezzos. But also frustration because excuse me, it’s not a fairy tale if the prince and princess don’t kiss at the end, that’s like the whole point, and I’m pretty sure if he’d been a tenor they’d let it happen, but god forbid we get the tiniest bit of gay onstage.

And Stephanie Blythe--I keep seeing her in all these incredibly different roles and keep thinking at some point she’s not going to be able to pull it off because they’re all so different and then I keep getting more impressed because she does pull it off and then I feel bad for doubting her. This evil stepmother also had a surprising ending and I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be funny or ironic or maybe both, but, like Kim, Blythe was excellent at capturing the ambiguity.

sooooo anyway that’s me nerding out about my divas and I’d give the production 3/5 probably, points taken for the weird costumes and disturbing ballet sequences and not letting the ladies kiss onstage. But the cast gets 100/5 because, well, if you got this far you know why.

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opera-simplified · 4 years

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Opera Simplified #2: The Rake’s Progress

The Rake’s Progress

Opera Simplified #2

The Basics:

Music: Igor Stravinsky

Libretto: W.H. Auden and Chester Kallman

Premiere: September 11, 1951; Teatro La Fenice; Venice, Italy

Based on: William Hogarth’s eight-painting (later engraving) series A Rake’s Progress

Setting: England (mostly London), an unspecified point in the 1700s

Characters:

Tom Rakewell, a young man- tenor

Anne Trulove, his girlfriend- soprano

Nick Shadow, a devilish manservant [the libretto’s words, not mine]- bass-baritone

Baba the Turk, a bearded lady- mezzo-soprano

Trulove, Anne’s father- bass

Mother Goose, a brothel owner- contralto

Sellem, an auctioneer- tenor

Keeper of the Madhouse- bass

Requested by: @harry-leroy, who also very generously and enthusiastically read excerpts of this over—thank you!

The Opera:

Act I:

Scene 1:

A spring afternoon. The garden of the Trulove house in the countryside, with the house at right, a gate in the back, and a bunch of trees at left, where Anne and Tom are sitting together.

Anne: It’s May, and the whole world is enjoying the beauties of spring!

Tom: This is Venus’ season and she’s making everyone fall in love and helping restore the Age of Gold… **

Anne and Tom: How sweet it is to enjoy nature together!

*Trulove enters from the house and stands aside, watching Anne and Tom.*

Trulove: They look so happy and in love, and I really hope that’s the case and my fears don’t come true. We think we know everything when we’re young, and then we realize too late that we actually don’t, and I hope that doesn’t happen to my Anne…

Anne and Tom: WE’RE IN LOVE AND IT’S BEAUTIFUL AND WE’LL BE IN LOVE FOREVER

*Trulove steps forward.*

Trulove: Anne?

Anne: Yes, Dad?

Trulove: They need your help in the kitchen.

*Anne curtsies and goes inside. Trulove goes over to Tom.*

Tom, I talked to a friend of mine who lives in London, and recommended you to him, and he’s offered you a job at his counting house! ***

Tom: That’s very nice of you, and I don’t want to seem rude, but...I have other prospects.

Trulove: Son, you don’t have a job, and you��re not looking for one, and that worries me.

Tom: Look, I get it. But I assure you, Mr. Trulove, that your daughter will want for nothing if she marries me.

Trulove: My issue isn’t if you’re poor. If she wants a poor husband, that is fine by me, but no matter what, I will not let her take a lazy one, because she is too good for that. You understand?

Tom: Understood.

*Trulove goes inside.*

The old fool doesn’t get it! Here I am: I’m young, I’m happy, I’m in the prime of my life, and I’m supposed to waste the best years of my life in drudgery? I’m supposed to spend my life working just so some boss can become rich, I can barely survive, and ultimately I’ll just be thrown away and replaced with the next worker? No! Heaven has predestined our fates, so I will abandon myself to that. After all, if something is supposed to happen, just let it happen! I’ll live by my wits and trust my luck; the whole world is out there, just waiting for me...and I’ll live by my wishes. Like this one: I wish I had money.

*Nick immediately appears at the gate.*

Nick: Tom Rakewell?

*Tom, startled, turns around.*

Tom: Uh…

Nick: I’m looking for Tom Rakewell; I have a message for him. Is this his house?

Tom: No, but you’ve found him wandering in his thoughts and footsteps.

Nick: So you’re Tom Rakewell?

Tom: Indeed I am! Tom Rakewell, at your service.

*Nick bows.*

Nick: Nick Shadow, at your service, and ready to bear you a bright future. You recall an uncle, sir?

Tom: No? My parents never mentioned an uncle.

Nick: I think they had a falling out, sir. But...do you have any friends?

Tom: More: I have a wonderful girlfriend.

Nick: Lovely, sir. Go get her and anyone else who will listen.

*Tom runs into the house as Nick unlatches the gate and lets himself into the garden. Tom returns from the house with Anne and Trulove, and Nick bows to them.*

Forgive me for intruding, but I have a lot to tell you all. I once served Tom Rakewell’s uncle, who lived abroad for much of his life. I worked for him for many years, in many different trades, and he was very successful in all of them and became very wealthy, but all that wealth didn’t do him much good when he lay dying and dreamed of England and happiness. He did know about Tom, though, and figured the best use for his wealth would be to bequeath it all to his nephew. Well, he is dead. Tom, you’re rich.

Tom: I knew it! I made one wish, and Fortune made it come true. Shadow, sir, stay by me, would you?

Nick: Thank goodness, because without a master, I would soon die!

Anne: Thank God! We can get married soon!

Trulove: Thank God! And make sure that Tom never gets too big for his britches and that this doesn’t go south.

*Tom puts one arm around Anne and gestures outward with the other.*

Tom: Look, Anne, there’s no more obstacles and the world is ready and waiting for us!

Anne: And we’ll have peace and love forever!

Trulove: God bless you both!

Nick: I hate to burst your bubble, but there are new problems that come with such a large fortune: you have to get the inheritance approved and legally secured, and in order to do that, we have to go to London.

Tom: Those things can wait! I want to marry Anne.

Trulove: No, you should settle your estate and get it secured and then you and Anne can get married and have a secure future!

Anne: Dad does have a point, Tom.

Nick: There’s a coach waiting down the road.

Tom: Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!

Nick: I’ll get the coachman.

Trulove: And I’ll explain this whole situation.

*They go off together.*

Anne: Goodbye for now, but remember: whatever may happen and wherever you may go, my love will go with you.

Tom: I know you’ll always be with me. I love you.

Anne: Farewell!

*Nick and Trulove come back.*

Nick: Everything is ready, sir.

Tom: Shadow, sir, I’m not entirely sure how this works because I grew up very poor, so I’m wondering: what are your normal wages?

Nick: I’ll give you a year and a day to figure that out. On that day, we’ll settle our accounts and you will pay me no more and no less than what you think my services are worth.

Tom: Agreed. Mr. Trulove, as soon as my estate is settled, I’ll send for you and Anne to come to London. And when Anne gets here, all London will be at her feet, because I’ll make something of myself and London will be mine, and London will treasure my magnificent soon-to-be wife.

*Tom and Trulove shake hands as Anne, overcome with emotion, hides her face.*

Everything good waits for the one who can win the game.

Anne: I’m so happy but at the same time, I’m crying…

Trulove: I’m worried that this new comfort may lead to even more problems with him, but maybe it won’t…

Anne: Tom, I’ll always be near you, and you’ll always be near me…

*Nick lets Anne, Tom, and Trulove through the gate.*

Anne and Trulove: Goodbye, Tom!

*Nick turns to the audience.*

Nick: THE RAKE’S PROGRESS begins. ****

Scene 2:

An unspecified amount of time later, at Mother Goose’s brothel in London. Tom, Nick, and Mother Goose (not the one from the fairytales) are sitting at a table downstage right and drinking. Meanwhile, a bunch of roaring boys, prostitutes, and clients are hanging around. There is a cuckoo clock at upstage left. *****

Roaring Boys: WE JUST LIKE TO HANG AROUND AND ROAM THE STREETS AND GET INTO FIGHTS AND STUFF LIKE THAT

Prostitutes: WE’RE GREAT AT GETTING PEOPLE TO LOVE US AND GIVE US THEIR MONEY

Roaring Boys: WHAT’S BETTER THAN FIGHTING FOR NO REASON OR BASHING PEOPLE’S HEADS IN OR WHATEVER

Prostitutes: WE SURPRISE ALL KINDS OF GUYS AND WE CHARM THEM AND THEY GIVE US MONEY AND THAT’S HOW WE LIVE

Everyone: A TOAST TO OUR TWO FAVORITE GODS VENUS AND MARS

Nick: C’mon, Tom, show Mother Goose here what I’ve taught you in preparation for your new life and all its pleasures. So, what are you supposed to do above all else?

Tom: My duty to myself.

Nick: Isn’t he smart, Mother Goose?

Mother Goose: And handsome too.

Nick: What is that duty to yourself?

Tom: To scorn the advice of any who disapprove and follow Nature.

Mother Goose: What is Nature’s secret?

Tom: What beauty is and where it grows.

Nick: What is beautiful?

Tom: Whatever is pleasure for the eyes, but it has just one flaw: it dies.

Nick: Exactly!

Mother Goose: What is pleasure, then?

Tom: It’s different for every person, but it’s whatever someone wants it to be, whatever makes them happy.

Mother Goose: Bravo!

Nick: One final question: what is love?

Someone: WHAT IS LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE BABY DON’T HURT ME DON’T HURT ME NO MORE WHAT IS—

Mother Goose: NO ONE ASKED FOR THAT STUPID SONG

Tom: Love? That word burns every part of me…

Nick: No answer?

Tom: NO MORE

Mother Goose: Do you need more wine?

Tom: LET ME GO

Nick: Are you afraid?

*The cuckoo clock chimes one, and Tom gets up.*

Tom: BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE

Nick: WAIT

*He turns to the clock, which turns back and chimes twelve.*

See? Even time itself obeys you, so enjoy life! You can worry later.

*Tom sits down and starts drinking a lot of wine.*

Chorus: Who cares about time passing when we have food and drink and fun and love and the night?

*Nick gets up and indicates Tom.*

Nick: My friends, fellow worshipers at the Temple of Delight, it is my privilege to present a newcomer who wants to be initiated and as custom, will sing for you. He is young and rich and will be perfect for our group. I present my master and (if he will allow me to call him this) my friend, Tom Rakewell!

*Tom comes to the center of the room and sings.*

Tom: Love, you are too frequently betrayed in the name of desire or the world, and I’ll admit that I still dream of you. You are my sorrow and shame, and yet I always forget you, but please don’t forget me; if I die, in my last hour I will call upon you!

Prostitutes: It’s such a sad song, but it’s so charming! Forget your sorrows in our arms, in our lips—

Mother Goose: UH UH I’M THE LEADER AND I CALL DIBS ON HIM TONIGHT

*She takes Tom’s hand as the patrons form two lines, between which Tom and Mother Goose walk to get to the door on the back wall. Nick watches.*

Chorus: LANTERLOO LANTERLOO THE KING IS COURTING HIS QUEEN AND THEY’RE GOING TO BED AND HE’LL CHOP OFF HER “HEAD” IF YOU KNOW WHAT WE MEAN LANTERLOO LANTERLOO ******

*Nick raises his glass as if making a toast to Tom’s success.*

Nick: Sweet dreams, Tom!

Chorus: LANTERLOO LANTERLOO

Nick: Dreams may lie, but dream, for when you wake, you die.

Scene 3:

The same as Scene 1. Anne, dressed in traveling clothes, enters the garden from the house.

Anne: No word from Tom...has he forgotten my love, our vows? Regardless, he needs my help. I love him, and I can feel that he needs me, so I will go find him!

Night, find him wherever he is, and tell him I’m coming for him! And you, Moon, guide me and shine warmly for him; even if his heart is cold, you can’t be more cold for him, could you?

Trulove: *from inside the house* Anne! Anne!

Anne: Can I leave my father and his love behind for a man who’s deserted me?

*She starts walking back to the house, but then stops and turns.*

No! My father is strong, but Tom is weak. He needs me. He needs my comfort and he needs my help.

*She kneels.*

Dear God, protect Tom, help my father, and strengthen me.

*She gets up.*

I’ll go find him. Even if he’s forgotten me, I still love him and that’s not going to change, and if he still loves me we’ll pick back right up from where we left off. I’ll go find him, and love will help me.

*She goes through the gate.*

Notes

Act II:

Scene 1:

Morning, some time later. A room in Tom’s house, which overlooks a busy London square. A window is open, letting in light and noise from the street. Tom is sitting and eating breakfast when a particularly loud blast of sound comes in; he gets up, annoyed, and shuts the window.

Tom: LET THERE BE SOME DIFFERENT NOISE FOR GOODNESS SAKE BECAUSE IT ALL JUST ANNOYS ME AND EVEN YOUR BEST MUSIC CAN’T FILL THE HOLE IN MY HEART

“Follow Nature,” they said. “It'll be great,” they said. I wanted to be free, but now I have no choice but to be a slave of fashion. The food and wine is overrated! Cards are stupid! And always with the women bringing by their daughters to talk about marriage! There’s only one truly good person in the world, and I refuse to think about her!

*He gets up.*

Well, the hunt is on! On and on we go, following Nature blindly! And happiness and freedom always evade me, and there are empty smiles everywhere and my heart is full of darkness!

*He sits down.*

I wish I were happy.

*Nick enters with a broadsheet in his hand.* **

Nick: Master, are you alone?

Tom: Don’t remind me.

Nick: *handing Tom the broadsheet* Do you happen to know this lady?

Tom: Baba the Turk! No, I haven’t gotten a chance to see her at the fair yet, but I heard that even brave soldiers faint at the sight of her. Is any of this even possible?

Nick: Well, two licensed doctors have said she’s the real deal. Do you want to go see her?

Tom: You’re up to something, aren’t you?

Nick: AT LEAST LOOK AT HER PICTURE

Tom: She’s ugly.

Nick: Do you desire her?

Tom: Ew, I desire her as much as I desire gout.

Nick: Do you even remotely like her?

Tom: Heaven forbid I do.

Nick: Then marry her!

Tom: HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND

Nick: Look at it this way: everyone is wretched because they are a slave to either pleasure or conscience. The only way to be happy is to be a slave to neither, and since you don’t like Baba and since marrying Baba would be seen by society as a very odd thing to do, it’s perfect! You won’t have to worry about being a slave to anything, and you’d be free, and then you’d be happy! At least think about it.

Look: first, we’re all chasing girls; then, we chase wealth and rank; and then, when we’re old, we chase virtue. Always chasing something that is already fated to be. You need to step away from that and be free! Free from passion and reason alike! Well?

*Tom and Nick look at each other, and the former starts laughing, soon joined by the latter. They shake hands, and Nick helps Tom get dressed to go out.*

Tom: PEOPLE WILL TELL AND HEAR MY STORY FOREVER BECAUSE META AND ALSO BECAUSE WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT THAT I MARRY THE INTERNATIONAL CELEBRITY BABA THE TURK

Nick: Let’s make you look your best in order to win Baba the Turk, and then the whole world will love you. How does that sound?

Tom and Nick: WELL LET’S TRY TO WIN OVER BABA THE TURK

*They leave.*

Scene 2:

Autumn, dusk. A street in front of Tom’s house. A staircase of semi-circular steps leads up to the front door at center. The servants’ entrance is to the left; a tree to the right. Anne enters, hesitates for a moment, and then knocks on the front door. She sees a servant coming from the left and hides behind the tree until he passes.

Anne: My heart is brave, but I’m afraid—my mind just keeps screaming, “YOU’RE ALONE IN LONDON!!!! BE AFRAID!!! BE VERY AFRAID!!!” I need to be strong in order to find him and win his love back, though...Dear Lord, help me, but even if I have to go this one alone, I can and will win him back from damnation!

*She turns to go back to the door, but stops when she sees a procession of servants bearing oddly-shaped packages coming from the right. Night begins to fall.*

What? What is this? Whatever it is, I have a really bad feeling about it.

*Two servants bearing torches come in from the left, as well as other servants bearing a sedan chair.* ***

Oh, lights!

*The servants set down the chair and Tom gets out.*

It’s him!

*She runs over to Tom, who makes sure to stay a little way away from her.*

Tom: Anne? What are you doing here?

Anne: Well, look at you.

Tom: ACCUSE ME

Anne: Tom, no.

Tom: DENOUNCE ME TO THE WHOLE WORLD

Anne: TOM NO

Tom: GO HOME ANNE

Anne: ...Are you coming with me?

Tom: ME?! WITH YOU?!

Anne: I’m not leaving without you.

Tom: YOU HAVE TO

Let me not think about going back home!

Anne: I need to love him in order to have any chance of winning him over.

Tom: Anne, please, listen to me. I know you’re virtuous, and London is not the place for you. Virtue only exists on the surface and in the daytime here, Anne. Be afraid.

Anne: What do I need to fear, when I have your help and I love you?

Tom: My help? Look, London has ruined me. I am unworthy of you. Go home.

Anne: You still love me; you are worthy.

*Tom, moved, steps over to her.*

Tom: Anne!

*Baba the Turk, who is heavily veiled, sticks her head out of the sedan chair window.*

Baba: TOM YOU KNOW I NEED SOMEONE TO HELP ME OUT OF THIS AND I’VE BEEN WAITING IN HERE FOR PRACTICALLY FOREVER SO COULD YOU PLEASE FINISH UP WITH WHATEVER YOU’RE DOING THANKS

*She puts her head back in.*

Anne: Who’s that, Tom?

Tom: ...My wife.

Anne: your WHAT

...Oh. I see. So I’m the unworthy one.

*She turns away. Tom steps toward her.*

If only I had known then that it would turn out like this...oh well. If you’re not going to be faithful, then at least I will—forever.

Tom: It’s done, it’s too late, the world is dying, my heart is dying...I’ll bury my heart and never let it feel anything again!

*Baba pokes her head out again and sees Anne.*

Baba: C’mon, what’s the delay? And who’s that girl who’s keeping Tom occupied? Whoever she is, I’m getting more than a little annoyed with all this waiting. COME HERE TOM YOU KNOW I DON’T LIKE WAITING AND I DON’T THINK YOU WANT ME TO SUFFOCATE IN HERE

*Anne runs off, distraught.*

I’m still here, Tom. I haven’t run off.

*Tom helps her get out of the chair.*

Tom: I’m here, my wife.

Baba: Who was that girl, my love?

Tom: Just a maid.

*The doors open and several servants come out with torches as other servants take the chair away.*

Townspeople: *from offstage* BABA THE TURK IS HERE WE LOVE HER

*Baba begins to go up the stairs as the people pour onstage.*

BABA SHOW YOURSELF TO US

*Tom and Baba get to the top of the staircase. Tom goes inside the house as Baba sweeps around and removes her veil.*

BABA AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

*Baba blows them a kiss and keeps her hands outstretched like the great performer she is.*

Scene 3:

The same as Scene 1, except that Baba has now fully moved in and as a result, there are a bunch of oddities everywhere. Tom and Baba are eating breakfast; he’s sulking while she’s talking.

Baba: ...So yeah, there were two brothers and they both had mustaches and they gave me a really cool set of musical glasses in...Vienna, right? No, wait, it was Milan because there were a bunch of donkeys there and I guess there are a bunch of donkeys in Milan. And it was the Chinese fan I got in Vienna, no, actually, maybe it was the water from the Jordan River, or was it the Chinese fan? I get so confused with all these awesome stories I have, you know. I got the snuffboxes in Paris and the gravels from a Cardinal in Rome— ****

You’re not eating, my love!

Count Moldau got me the gnome, and Prince Obolowsky got me those cute little statues of the Twelve Apostles, which are probably my favorite gifts after the fossils. Oh, right, I need to tell Bridget to never touch the mummies ever, not even to dust them; she can do the wax dummies. And, oh yes, I love my birds too! Have you seen my great auk? Oh no, the moths will try to get in them!

What’s wrong? Why aren’t you talking?

Tom: Nothing’s wrong.

Baba: Talk to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Tom: Why?

*Baba gets up and hugs Tom.*

Baba: come ooooooooooooooooooooooooon why are you so saaaaaaaaaaaaad smile because I love you and I want you to be happy, dear husb—

Tom: *pushing her away* SIT DOWN

*Baba bursts into tears and gets very angry very quickly.*

Baba: I’ve been SCORNED—

*She picks up an object and smashes it on the ground.*

ABUSED—

*ditto*

NEGLECTED—

*ditto*

BAITED—

*ditto*

oh I SEE HOW IT IS I KNOW YOU LOVE THAT GIRL AND HATE ME AND REGRET EVER MARRYING ME BECAUSE SHE’S SO MUCH PRETTIER AND CLEVERER AND YOU LIKE HER SO MUCH MORE SO THAT’S WHY YOU’RE SO UPSET ALL THE TIME BUT DEAL WITH IT BECAUSE YOU’RE MY HUSBAND AND YOU WILL NEVER BE HER HUSBAND, NOT—

*At this point, Tom suddenly gets up, grabs a wig, puts it over her head, and thus cuts her off. Then he walks around aimlessly until he goes to the sofa.*

Tom: ...Man, I just need to lie down and sleep.

*Which he does. During this time, Nick peeks his head through the door at right and after seeing the coast is clear, he wheels in a large object covered by a sheet. He removes the sheet to reveal a large machine. He then picks up a loaf of bread, opens a door in the front of the machine, puts in the loaf, and closes the door. Then he picks a piece of a broken vase from the floor, which he drops into a hopper on the machine. He turns a wheel and the loaf of bread falls out of a chute. He opens the door, takes out the piece of china, replaces it by the loaf and repeats the performance, so that the audience sees that the mechanism is a false bottom. The second time he ends with the loaf in the machine and the piece of china in his hand. Then he puts back the sheet, wheels the machine backstage near Tom’s sofa, and takes up a position near Tom’s head. And before you ask, yes, I did copy-and-paste most of this stage direction from the libretto because...yeah.*

Nick: Fa la la la la la la la la ‘tis the season to be jolly fa la la la la la la la la don we now our gay apparel fa la la la la la la la la troll the ancient Yuletide carol fa la la la la la la la—

*Tom wakes up.*

Tom: I wish it were true…

Nick: Oh, you’re awake?

*Tom starts.*

Tom: Who’s there?

Nick: It’s me, master, your shadow.

Tom: Oh hey! I had the strangest dream. I dreamed that I made a machine that turned stones to bread so no one would go hungry or want for anything ever again, and the world became so beautiful…

Nick: Was it, perhaps, this machine?

*He pulls off the sheet to reveal the machine.*

Tom: I must still be asleep because that is exactly it.

Nick: How does it work?

Tom: I need a stone!

Nick: *handing him the piece of china* Perhaps this will do?

Tom: *doing what he narrates* I place it in the top here, and then I turn the wheel, and then—

*The bread falls out.*

HOLY SHIT THE BREAD

Nick: Does it taste good?

*Tom samples the bread.*

Tom: YES IT DOES MAYBE THIS GOOD DEED WILL MAKE ME WORTHY OF ANNE AGAIN

*He falls on his knees.*

WITH THIS DEVICE THE WORLD WILL BECOME A SECOND HEAVEN BECAUSE NEED CAUSES ALL THE HORRIBLE THINGS AND THE CRIME IN THE WORLD AND WITH NO NEED WE’LL ALL BE GOOD

Nick: *to the audience* He’s a fool, you see, but know this: you can do good business with me.

Tom: THERE’LL BE NO LABOR AND NO HUNGER AND NO GRIEF AND NO POVERTY AND EVERYTHING WILL BE GOOD AGAIN

Nick: If you try hard enough, make it flashy and cool enough, play to people’s fears enough, people will believe anything you tell them.

Tom: MAN WILL BEAT NATURE AND RULE THE WORLD

Nick: INVEST IN THIS IMMEDIATELY

Sorry to burst your bubble a bit, Tom, but we’ve got to mass-produce, we’ve got to advertise, we’ve got to get partners, and that’s all gonna take money and time and work before your dreams come true.

Tom: ...true. That does burst my bubble a bit, because I don’t want this to be empty and not do anything and not help people.

Nick: Hey, I already spoke to some people to get help because let’s be honest here, there’s really no way to be self-made in this day and age. You have to have outside investment, you have to help from influential people, and anyone who says otherwise is kidding everyone.

Tom: HOW COULD I LIVE WITHOUT YOU LET’S GO

*They begin wheeling out the machine. Nick suddenly stops and turns to Tom.*

Nick: Shouldn’t you tell your wife about all this first?

Tom: What wife? I have no wife. I buried her.

*They leave.*

Notes

Act III:

Scene 1:

A spring afternoon. Otherwise the same as Act II, Scene 3 (complete with Baba still stifled by the wig), except there’s cobwebs and dust everywhere and it looks super-rundown and creepy. An auction is about to begin.

Crowd: Ruin! Disaster! Shame!

*More people enter.*

WOW LOOK AT ALL THIS COOL STUFF LET’S BUY IT ALL

*They turn to address the audience like they’re on an 18th-century version of The Office.*

You know, this sort of thing happens to a lot of people. People hope to make it rich and then they end up throwing themselves into the Thames. Tom Rakewell is the latest one ruined. Perhaps he’ll throw himself into the Thames next. Perhaps he already has.

*They turn back to look at all the cool stuff like they’re all little kids in a candy store. Meanwhile, Anne comes in alone and also starts looking around, but not like a little kid in a candy store.*

Anne: Does anyone know what happened to Tom?

Some People: We heard he went to America.

Other People: NO HE SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUSTED

Some People: uh what that’s not even a thing

Other People: YEAH IT IS YOU’RE JUST STUPID

Anne: ENOUGH seriously does anyone know

Another Group: He’s Methodist now!

Yet Another Group: No, he’s Catholic!

Still Another Group: No, he converted to Judaism!

Anne: I DON’T CARE WHAT RELIGION HE IS THAT’S NOT THE PROBLEM HERE WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM

People: uhhhhhhhhh he went into debt and we guess people are looking for him

Anne: well since none of you are being helpful I’ll look for him myself

*She goes off to search the rest of the house.*

Some People: who’s she?

Other People: probably some ex-girlfriend, idk

*They go back to looking at all the stuff. A group of servants starts setting up an auction platform. Eventually Sellem shows up to begin the auction.*

Sellem: okay everyone let’s— NO NO NO YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SET THE PLATFORM UP OVER THERE

Servants: ugggggggggggggh

*They start moving the platform.*

People: ‘kay everyone let’s get those bids ready

*When the platform is set up, Sellem mounts it and begins the auction.*

Sellem: OKAY EVERYONE welcome to the best auction ever

Everyone Else: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sellem: there’s a thing called the balance of nature which states that for everyone who loses, as many people win. Congrats, you’re all winners and you’re helping restore nature and I guess the balance of money and stuff like that

Some People: ...that doesn’t really make sense but okay we could get stuff so we’ll let that slide

Everyone Else: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

Now then, lots one and two, which cover the categories of vegetable, animal, and mineral—

Someone in the Crowd: I AM THE VERY MODEL OF A MODERN MAJOR GENERAL**

Sellem: EXCUSE ME WE’RE STARTING

okay who wants this stuffed auk that’s really cool and who wants this dead fish that’s also really cool

*People start putting up their bids.*

One...two...three...five...seven...eleven...fourteen...nineteen...twenty...twenty-three...twenty-three once, twenty-three twice, sold! to that guy over there.

Next up: a Roman marble, a consecrated palm branch, and...all this other stuff, idk. I wasn’t briefed on all this before coming here. Owner’s a crazy guy who skipped town and his wife’s down for the count, so I don’t know. Anyway, let the bidding begin!

*People put up more bids.*

One...two...three...six...eleven...fifteen...fifteen and a half...fifteen and three quarters...fifteen and seven-eighths, not sure that’s even a thing...finally, sixteen...seventeen...seventeen and a half...seventeen and a half going once, going twice, sold! To you, madam.

People: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

Sellem: Alright. Lot 666, then, ladies and gentlemen—

People In the Crowd: what happened to the other six hundred and something lots

Sellem: SHUT UP IT’S FOR THE EFFECT

People: Is it at least a chandelier in pieces? ***

Sellem: SHUT UP anyway no it’s not a chandelier or a chandelier in pieces actually maybe it could be because we don’t know what this is either. It could be a cake. Maybe we should cut into it to see if it’s a cake. Maybe it’s an organ or a golden apple tree or an oracle or a pillar or an octopus or— ****

People: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LET’S SEE WHAT IT IS

*They start putting up their bids but keep shouting.*

Sellem: Fifty...fifty-five...sixty...sixty-fi-GUYS I CAN BARELY HEAR MYSELF THINK-ve...seventy...seventy-five SHUT UP...EIGHTY...EIGHTY-FIVE...NINETY...NINETY GOING ON-...OH NEVER MIND THERE’S A HUNDRED...HUNDRED GOING ONCE GOING TWICE SOLD

*At that moment, he pulls the wig off Baba, who immediately revives and continues with the last thing she said before Tom silenced her.*

Baba: ...EVER!

People: WHAT IT’S HIS WIFE

Baba: excuse me what the FUCK is going on here why are you selling all my stuff GET OUT and if you so much as touch any more of my stuff you’re gonna have to deal with ME

Tom and Nick: *in the distance* lalala old wives for sale lalala

*Anne runs in and goes straight to the window.*

Anne: was that him was that hi—he’s gone.

Baba: looks like they already sold all my stuff

*She turns to Anne.*

My dear—

Anne: His wife!

Baba: More like the woman he married and then dumped, his little joke. Come here, my child.

*Anne goes over to her.*

Sellem: uh this is getting a little awkward so this auction is over I guess everyone please leave

People: GET THE POPCORN THIS IS WAY BETTER THAN AN AUCTION

Baba: Hey, you know what? Maybe there’s some good in him. Maybe not, I don’t know. But he still loves you.

Anne: He still loves me? Then I should’ve kept looking when I came here a long time ago.

Sellem and People: He still loves her? Aww that’s sweet but also really sad.

Baba: Watch out for that guy who’s always with him. Tom may have rejected me, but out of those two, he’s not the snake. Go. Find your true love.

Anne: But what about you?

Baba: Hun, don’t worry about me. I’ll pick right back up with my career.

People: That girl’s gonna go find him!

Sellem: well looks like no one’s interested in buying anything anymore so rip me and rip this auction I guess

Tom and Nick: *in the distance* lalala let’s sing songs about boys having wings and gold falling from the sky and other stuff lalala

Anne and Baba: IT’S HIM

Baba: GO FIND YOUR LOVE

Anne: I WILL SAVE TOM

Baba: GO SAVE TOM

People: TOM REALLY SCREWED UP SO IF YOU WANT TO SAVE TOM DO IT QUICKLY

Anne: God bless you, Baba!

Everyone Else: GO SAVE TOM TRUE LOVE RULES

*Anne runs out.*

Tom and Nick: *in the distance* lalala who cares about Tories and Whigs I don’t lalala

Baba: SELLEM GO GET MY CARRIAGE

Sellem: ...Yes, ma’am.

*Sellem grabs the carriage from the pile of stuff about to be auctioned and helps Baba in.* *****

Baba: GET OUT OF THE WAY ALSO NEXT TIME I SEE YOU YOU WILL ALL PAY FOR THIS

*She leaves.*

People: ...what even was this day

Notes

Scene 2:

A starry night, a little after the events of Scene 1. Tom and Nick, who is carrying a small black bag, come to a churchyard with several graves (including one empty freshly-dug grave). There is an elevated tomb with a spade leaning against it. On the right there is a yew tree.

Tom: *out of breath* Are...we...there...yet?

Nick: We’re here, you dum-dum.

Tom: WHY ARE WE HERE THIS PLACE LOOKS SO CREEPY AND SO DO YOU

Nick: Remember, it’s been a year and a day since we made our deal. I upheld my end of the deal, so now it’s your turn.

Tom: BUT I DON’T HAVE ANY MONEY

Nick: But you still have your soul. Look at me. This is who you chose to hire, and here is your price. **

*He takes four objects out of the bag and shows them to Tom as he points to the fresh grave.*

That grave will be your grave. Look: here’s a dagger, a noose, a vial of poison, and a gun. You have progressed to the end, you rake.

Tom: noooooooooooooooooooo why did my uncle ever choose me as his heir

Nick: you screwed up big-time and it’s too late for you buddy so you might as well join all the damned in hell

Tom: I know but this suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks

Nick: It’s about to strike midnight. You choose one of these four objects, and on the stroke of twelve, you will use that object of your choice to end your sorry little life and deliver your soul to me, as is the price.

*A clock begins to strike.*

One, two, three, four—

Tom: I DECLARE A THUMB WAR

Nick: SHUT UP five, six, seven—

Tom: HAVE MERCY ON ME HEAVEN

Nick: STOP TRYING TO BE WITTY AND RHYME now it’s eight

Tom: IT’S TOO LATE

Nick: No, wait!

*The clock strikes once more, but Nick holds up his hand and it stops.*

Tom: ...did we just inadvertently write a poem?

Nick: what?

Tom: ...we rhymed.

Nick: You’re trying to distract me and it’s not going to work. But you are a very dear friend to me, and although I sense you’re trying to mess with our agreed-upon conditions, I am a gentleman and I am amenable enough to change said conditions and suggest a game.

Tom: A game? That’s it?

Nick: A game of chance. Do you, by any chance *ba-dum-ch*, have a pack of cards?

Tom: That’s all I have left in this world and for the next.

*He takes out a pack of cards from his pocket and hands them to Nick.*

Nick: Haha, I like a good joke! Keeps our spirits high and makes the game go well. Now down to the serious business: the game is very simple, the result simpler still. Nick will cut three cards from the deck.

Tom: Can I ask a question?

Nick: Questions for the end, please. If you can name all three, you are released from the contract. If not, you pick your method of death. Your question?

Tom: ...Why are you referring to yourself in the third person?

Nick: Because Nick wants to. Do you understand the rules of the game?

*Tom nods.*

Then let us begin.

*He cuts the cards, shuffles them, and holds up the Queen of Hearts, his card of choice, so the audience, but not Tom, can see it.*

Tom: oh no I just can’t

Nick: Try.

Tom: BUT I CAN’T THINK

Nick: Just think of one. You wish you could control the game, but all you can do at this point is think of one card.

Tom: Anne!

*He calms down.*

I’m not afraid anymore. I choose the Queen of Hearts.

Nick: *holding up the card to Tom* You have chosen correctly. It’s such a simple game, you see?

*He tosses the card aside as the clock strikes ten, then turns to the audience.*

He loves games; they’re how he tries to keep the hope alive but it will all end in despair.

*He turns back to Tom.*

Round two.

*As before, he cuts the cards and holds the top one towards the audience.*

Tom: ...Now how am I supposed to win back my soul?

Nick: Try. Maybe Fortune will help you a second time.

Tom: luck be a lady toniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight luck be a lady toniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight luck if you’ve ever been a lady to begin with luck be a lady toniiiiiiiiiiii—

*The spade falls with a loud crash.*

THE HELL WAS THAT THAT SCARED ME

*He looks and sees that the spade fell.*

You know what? It’s fine. It’s a sign: my choice is two of spades.

Nick: Two of spades?

Tom: Two of spades.

Nick: Not even queen of spades? ***

Tom: did I stutter

Nick: *barely hiding his anger* Two of spades it is.

*He throws aside the card as the clock strikes eleven.*

Congratulations. Luck is indeed being a lady to you tonight. BUT there is still one more to go. This is your last chance and as your friend, I don’t want you to mess this up. I’m a very compassionate fellow, after all. So if nothing else, think about your hopes.

Tom: WHAT HOPES DO I EVEN HAVE

*He puts his head in his hands and leans against the tomb.*

Nick: OH STOP BEING SUCH A WHINY TENOR oh wait actually he’s a tenor which means he has no brain cells which means—

*He reaches down, picks up one of the two discarded cards, and holds it up to the audience.*

Simplest trick of all time. I told him there’s no return, he believed me, and he doesn’t think anything is going to repeat.

*He slips it into the middle of the deck.*

Tom, stop whining for long enough that we can get this last round over with.

*He shuffles and cuts the deck as before.*

Tom: well I can’t figure out anything from what he’s saying so luck be a lady toniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight (again)

Nick: he’s toast

Nyah nyah Tom are you scared, you little lover boy?

Tom: oh lordy this is the worst day EVER

Nick: they’re comin’ for ya!

Tom: ALL I WANT IS A RETURN AND LOVE BUT I CAN’T HAVE EITHER

Nick: IT’S TOO LATE

Tom: RETURN! LOVE! LO—

Anne: *from offstage* TRUE LOVE CAN REDEEM YOU

*Tom and Nick both freeze momentarily.*

Tom: LOVE, RULE FOREVER I CHOOSE THE QUEEN OF HEARTS AGAIN

*He grabs the pack of cards as the clock strikes twelve, then screams with joy and collapses.*

Nick: DAMN it I literally cheated against a tenor and STILL lost also the demons are hungry for SOUL FOOD AND I DON’T HAVE IT FOR THEM AND NOW I HAVE TO GO BACK TO HELL EMPTY-HANDED

You know what, though? I can still do some damage.

*He turns to Tom.*

I MAY NOT BE ABLE TO TAKE YOUR SOUL AWAY BUT I CAN TAKE YOUR SANITY AWAY SO NOW YOU’RE INSANE FOREVER

*He sinks into the grave. Blackout, then the set changes. It is spring. Tom is sitting on the grass, and having lost any trace of sanity he may have had, he’s singing and putting grass on his head.*

Tom: I am crowned with roses...my name is Adonis...I’m in love with Venus… ****

Scene 3:

Tom’s cell in the Bedlam mental hospital. There is a straw pallet on the floor, and Tom is standing before it, facing a group of fellow patients. *****

Tom: Alright, everyone, time to get ready, clean yourselves up because VENUS IS COMING TO VISIT

Patients: No she’s not.

Tom: Yes she is.

Patients: NO SHE’S NOT

Tom: BUT SHE PROMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISED

Patients: But you’re insane.

Tom: So are you.

Patients: She’s not coming.

Tom: VENUS COME NOW OR I’M GONNA DIE

*He sits on the pallet and buries his face in his hands as the patients start to dance mockingly.*

Patients: Lalala it’s foolish to hope because we’re all insane and nobody cares a scrap about us out there and anyone who may have before doesn’t now and life sucks and we don’t have any friends and night never ends lalala

Tom: ...was that supposed to make me feel better?

*A key turns in the lock and the door opens.*

OH NO CRUEL MINOS IS COMING EVERYONE RUN BECAUSE HE’LL WHIP YOU IF YOU DON’T

*Everyone else runs to their cells as the Keeper of the Madhouse enters with Anne and indicates Tom.*

Keeper: He’s not dangerous, so don’t be afraid.

Anne: Tom!

Keeper: He doesn’t respond to that; he believes he is Adonis, so you should probably call him that instead.

Anne: Oh, I see. You’re very kind.

*She gives him money.*

Keeper: Thank you.

*He leaves. Anne goes up to Tom.*

Anne: ...Adonis?

*Tom sees her and jumps up.*

Tom: Venus! At last! You know, everyone said you’d never come, and I almost believed them, but look! You’re here! Come, sit on my throne.

*He helps her sit down on the pallet and then kneels before her.*

Look, so I really screwed up because I went out into the big wide world and chased useless dreams and left you behind, but I want to be faithful to you forever and I hope you forgive me.

*Anne gets up and helps Tom up as well.*

Anne: What’s there to forgive? You’ve come around and everything is okay.

Anne and Tom: There’s nothing to worry about now; we’re in Elysium together and nothing can mess with our love… ******

*Tom suddenly staggers. Anne helps him back down to the pallet.*

Tom: I’m so tired...let me lay my head on you...and sing me to sleep?

*Anne lets him do so.*

Everything is good now.

Anne: *singing* You little boat, the sun is going down, go sail to the Islands of the Blessed...

Patients: *from their cells offstage* What’s that voice?

Anne: There are gardens and streams and music everywhere there...and it is the dream of every weary soul…

Patients: This music is beautiful and somehow it’s making us forget our sorrow...

Anne: The animals all live together in harmony, and the plants sway with the wind…

Patients: SING FOREVER HELP US FORGET OUR PAIN AND BRING US PEACE

*The Keeper shows in Trulove.*

Trulove: Anne, I’m sorry, but it’s time to go home.

Anne: Yes. Tom, I have to go, but I will love you forever. You don’t need me now. You just need to sleep. Goodbye, my dear.

*She joins Trulove.*

Everyone has to die and release their soul at some point, and I think now is your time. I don’t think we’ll see each other again in this life, but I will always love you…

Trulove: God knows what must be, and this must be, and yet I’m crying.

*The Keeper goes out with the Truloves. Tom wakes up after they leave.*

Tom: Venus? Venus? It’s spring, everything is ready for our wedding, where are you?

*He looks around.*

Achilles, Helen, Eurydice, Orpheus, Persephone, Pluto, everyone! WHERE DID YOU TAKE MY GIRLFRIEND WHY DID YOU TAKE HER WHERE IS SHE *******

*The patients all come in.*

Patients: Venus? No, you’re crazy, no one took her.

Tom: My heart is breaking, I’m dying, everyone, sing for Adonis, who loved and was loved by Venus…

*He falls back onto the pallet again and dies.*

Patients: Mourn for Adonis, Venus’ love, forever young...weep and mourn…

*The curtain falls and the house lights come up.*

Notes

Epilogue:

(You thought the opera was over, but no!)

*Tom, Anne, Nick, Baba, and Trulove appear in front of the curtain.*

Tom, Anne, Nick, Baba, and Trulove: HEY EVERYONE JUST A MOMENT BEFORE YOU GO BECAUSE EVEN THOUGH THE STORY IS TECHNICALLY OVER THERE’S STILL A FEW LESSONS TO LEARN FROM THIS WHOLE THING

Anne: Not everyone is lucky enough to have an Anne in their lives to rescue them and to take the place of duty.

Baba: Whether a man is good or bad, ladies, remember this: all men are mad and everything they do? Theatre. All theatre.

Tom: Don’t get a big head out there and don’t dream too much because it’ll lead to nothing but sorrow.

Trulove: I wholeheartedly agree with that!

Nick: I just have to do what I’m told. People often say I don’t exist, and at times, I wish I didn’t.

Tom, Anne, Nick, Baba, and Trulove: So let’s tell the ultimate moral as one: since the beginning of time, everywhere, one lesson has proven true. For idle hearts and hands and minds, the Devil finds work to do. If you don’t take care, he’ll find work for you, and you, and you!

*They all bow and exit.*

The End

Up Next: Benvenuto Cellini [yes, I have decided to slightly change the schedule]

#opera #opera tag #The Rake's Progress #opera simplified #Stravinsky #Igor Stravinsky #W. H. Auden #Chester Kallman #William Hogarth

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tayerroos · 4 years

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Patchwork Tales: Book 1

A “9" roleplay compendium. Read on AO3 Chapter: 5 [First] [Back] [You Are Here] [Next] Warnings for this chapter: None

#Book 1 #Chapter 5 #Patchwork Tales #Fanfiction #Shane Acker's 9 #9 RP

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art-by-rozzai · 5 years

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band au headcannons? more likely than u think

tbh i just love found family tropes and band tropes and platonic lamp is the shit

HERE WE GO FOLKS

it’s the schools fault really. it starts as some stupid music theory project where virgil is forced to make friends once again, and do all of the work yet get none of the credit. the requirements seem simple enough-find three-four different instruments and write a song about something you all have felt before

when patton hart, the one of the only kids who’s ever made an attempt to talk to him, asks virgil to join his group of three, virgil decides he’s got nothing to lose and agrees.

virgil plays keyboard/piano and sings. his voice is really good, sounds a lot like tyler joseph from twenty øne piløts. (remember that lmao) his keyboard is his life-the only thing that’s able to help him through his anxiety is music. it’s a lifeline for him. virgil’s keyboard is plain black when the band starts, but when they start to become more mainstream, logan and roman buy virgil a purple piano and paint on a lightning theme. he loves it.

patton plays drums. he started playing because of his fidgeting-he was always tapping his fingers on something and decide to make the best of it!! his drums are a light blue set. (later, clouds are painted on them by roman and virge). playing music is one of his favorite things, but he wishes he had people to play with. his solo group is missing something-so, he starts by asking logan croft, straight a student, validictorian and the band’s best bassist. lo says he might as well, and types his number into patton’s phone before offering a small smile and heading to his next class. then, he talks to roman prince-an incredible gutairist and singer, the lead in almost ever school musical.

logan plays bass. (and cello, but that’s not as important for the story lmao) he likes bass because while it doesn’t stand out the most, it’s crucial to carrying the melody of the song. his bass is decorated completely in a space theme-stars and galaxies line up the sides and the strings have been replaced from black to white. roman and patton worked together to create it and gave it to him for his 15th birthday present. it’s the only gift he’s cried over receiving

roman plays gutair/uke. he also sings a lot, but doesn’t like it as much unless it’s for the school play, where he isn’t worrying about playing an instrument at the same time. the double tasking can screw up his playing a lot. he learned uke first, after obsessing over dodie clark videos. he plays a tenor uke that he decorated with disney stickers, usually on covers because it’s sounds really good with his voice. he plays acoustic and electric gutair, but he seriously prefers acoustic. he decorated his light wood gutair with hand drawn roses in different shades of red. it’s his prized possession.

so now these three friends and one acquaintance are partners! (yay!!) patton sends them all a text to meet at his house on friday, and bring instruments and a smile. virgil shows up ten minutes late (not enough to be rude but enough to not seem too excited) and carries in his keyboard. he takes a seat next to logan, who is sprawled across the couch scribbling into a notebook.

after a few games of never have i ever to get to know one and other more (patton insisted) the four began to work. they discuss topics to write about and suddenly find themselves having a really deep conversation about life and death and feeling meaningless

and they relaize that maybe they have more in common then they thought.

so they start writing. and playing. and writing. and playing. it takes three sessions before they write their first song-it’s called taxi cab. (listen to the tøp song bcuz it’s that but add in bass and a bit of uke)

when the project is turned in, they get an a, and virgil is surprisingly upset he won’t see these friends again. until patton starts inviting him to hang out with them more. and suddenly he feels like he didn’t have a life before patton, logan and roman. everything is going great-he gets to bake and laugh with patton, read and stargaze with logan and watch movies and complain about drama with roman. life is perfect.

until roman suggests they put the song on his yt channel and things start to get crazy. after much arguing, virgil agrees on one condition-they’re faces must be blocked out. romans cool with it, deciding to create a cool thumbnail and simply play the audio. they decide to name the band “sander’s sides” after their highschool, sanders high and the fact they’re all different sides that all come together in the end. the video goes viral overnight.

virgil is panicking. this was just supposed to be some easy project that was over immdiatly and now he’s on the trending page??? this is insane roman i swear to god-

virgil’s not the only one freaking out-logan is terrified. people have never seen him in this way-vunerable and showing a side of himself he doesn’t like that much. if anyone finds out one of the members is him-logan doesn’t know what he’d do. still, the comments are flooded with love for all four members. people are obsessed with this group.

so after some convincing from patton, the group starts writing together more often. they post frequently on youtube, constantly creating more and hanging out together. then they drop their first album, simply called “sander’s sides”, which the fans nickname “self titled”

the album gets insanely popular very quickly. part of the hype is the mystery of who the band mates were-only the friend’s family members and the schools band teacher know. it’s the middle of lunch when lo gets the call from his mother to turn on the radio and he nearly faints. they’re on the radio!!! people everywhere are listening to them!!!

everyone is talking about who the sides could be. fans have started to call themselves the “fanders”

patton lovesssss fan interaction-so he suggests they start responding to fanart/mail! they each are allowed to run one account-patt starts a band snapchat, logan takes twitter, roman creates a band insta and virgil sets up the tumblr account. they all enjoy responding to fan work, especially answering questions that the fans have.

most noteably-w h a t a r e u r n a m e s ?

but logan and virgil insist they dont tell anyone-what if people they know in real life find out that they’re in the secret famous band

that’s when fans decide to use nicknames-

whoever is running the tumblr account constantly makes self deprecating jokes and complains about mental health? anxiety!

the insta runner is very proud of his aesthetic and ability to create stunning pictures of each member without revealing their identity? creativity!

the snapchat runner is the biggest sweetheart ever and constantly send fans inspiring messages and reminders to drink water? morality! (most of the fanders end up just calling him dad tho.)

the twitter runner is the most responsible, is always up to date on politics and sends helpful advice to fanders who need help being adults? logic!!

i’m gonna finish this tmrw but enjoy for now lmao lmao

(check out that kinda similar band idea that idk the name of but can b found when u search “sanders sides lamp headcannons”)

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arawynn · 4 years

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Update on our Corona situation

After dealing with the whole pandemic insanely well with the pandemic until late summer, we (=Germany) get bitten in the ass by a mix of carelessness (probably mixed with ‘it’s not that bad’ conspiracy myths and the likes), being tired of the measurements/wanting to go back to ‘normal’ and people being idiots.

After our daily new infections climbed to something around 4000, our chancellor warned that we needed to get it under control again or we might reach almost 20.000 daily new infections.

(For reference, we’ve been noticeably below 1000 new infections per day.)

After a couple days of having roughly 4000 new cases per day, that number jumped to 7000 by the end of two weeks ago. Then once again the numbers stayed roughly at that amount for a couple days (I honestly expected we’d reach the 8000 after two or three days) before jumping once again - to 12.000 cases per day.

Which we haven’t even reached in March/April.

Dr. Merkel’s warning/calculation of 20.000 people at Christmas would currently be something to wish for because if it goes on like right now, we’ll be somewhere between 100.000 and 500.000 new infections per day at Christmas.

Germany as a whole is considered an at risk area (the incidence figure of more than 50 new infected per 100.000 inhabitants within the past 7 days has been reached and by now surpassed) as of last week. There are areas with an incidence figure of above 200 that have implemented a lockdown (in contrast to the shutdown Germany did earlier this year).

My home county as a whole is an at risk area as of today as well.

Meeting people in public is limited to 5 people if they’re from more than two households. You can get the limit to 10 people, but you’d have to announce it to the public order office which means needing to have a concept and strictly sticking to them. We’d have to split the choir up again, most likely to soprano-only, alto-only, tenor-only and bass-only practices. Which might be useful to learn something new when you start with a piece, but at some point you need to sing them together because there’s a huge difference between singing it only with your/one voice and singing four-part.

The practices from my church choir we had picked up again carefully and with extensive safety measures (since the average age is definitely at least 60) are entirely cancelled. It’s questionable if we’ll be able to sing on Boxing Day EVEN IF (and that’s a very big even if) services would be allowed again by then. We’d probably have to retort to well-known and already performed pieces instead of the new ones we started practicing last week.

Meanwhile the people who believe conspiracy myths keep demonstrating (without facemasks and social distancing of course) against “the dictatorially Corona rules” and want to throw some of the leading scientists like Professor Drosten in jail, want to file a class action lawsuit against the German government and scientists in the USA (who aren’t even responsible for it, but the “lawyers” already collect 800 € per person), somebody tried to burn down the Robert-Koch-Institute (RKI - the most important health office during this pandemic in Germany) and another somebody put up a mannequin that looks like it’s been hanged with a piece of paper reading “journalists” attached to it.

So aside from the pandemic coming back full-force, we also have the conspiracy myth believer to deal with - who are becoming more and more radical, which honestly worries me a lot too. Because the only two ways I see for them to get out of it are 1) getting them out of the conspiracy bubbles cold turkey (including instantly them abandoning any and all social media) long term and ideally getting them into some sort of therapy or 2) either they themselves or a loved one of theirs gets very sick with the virus (and there has already been at least 1 case where somebody died of Covid after getting willingly infected and still claimed it was the right thing to do).

#personal #Corona #Germany

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ladylillianrose · 4 years

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You’ve Got SPRQS a Max Richman/Zoey Clarke Fanfiction

Summary: Time passes, Max and Red get closer but so do Max and Zoey....

A/N: Apologies for the delay in an update, school started back up for Summer so I’ve been busy diving into homework! So there may be delays but I promise I’ll update as frequently as I can!

As always thanks to aubreyrichman for dealing with random middle of the night inspirations and ideas, and for tweaking my mistakes!

Chapter 11

Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 11

3 months later

"I went on a walk earlier today and I saw some sunflowers in a shop window. They made me think of you, if I knew where you worked I would send you a whole vase of them."

Max smiled as he messaged Red. It had taken them some time, but they had finally gotten back to how they were before they tried to meet. Their messages had become more flirtatious as of late, which Max took as a good sign for the near future. He still hadn't sent her any more songs, he had thought about it, but something always seemed to hold him back.

"Morning, Max," Zoey said, smiling at him.

"Hey, Zo, you're in a good mood this morning," Max observed.

"Just feeling good. We still on for drinks this evening?"

"Yeah, where is it again?"

"It’s that new place down the road the one called, The Club Around The Corner. Though since it’s not around a corner from anything I don't even know why they called it that, " Zoey rambled.

Max smiled at her, "Maybe it used to be around a corner, and then they moved?"

Zoey shrugged, "Anyway, Mo said he and Eddie would meet us there after work."

He nodded, "Sounds good."

________________________________________________________________

Zoey read the message from Max and smiled as she composed her reply.

Sunflowers are my favorite flowers, they're so friendly-looking. They look, at least to me, like they could just burst into song at any moment. You know, like the flowers in Alice in Wonderland.

She heard Max chuckle as he received her response.

I can see that actually. They'd be the Altos, less showy than the Sopranos, but still just as important to the song, rounding it out with their warm rich tones. Now, I'm wondering what voices the other flowers would have. Which would be the Basses, Baritones, and Tenors….

You know that kind of music talk goes completely over my head, right?

Lol. Sorry, you got me thinking about it and now I'm rambling about fictional flower voices in a children's movie.

I don't mind, I think it's cute.

Zoey tried to convince herself that it was Red who was flirting with Max, and not her, but she knew better. She had spent the better part of the past few months trying to push aside her romantic feelings for Max, a task that was becoming more difficult as time went on.

See, you say that now, but when you find me creating a spreadsheet to classify different flowers and their singing voices….

Zoey laughed at the mental image that created.

Tobin glanced over at the two of them, shaking his head at his stupidly oblivious they were.

________________________________________________________________

Zoey had been thinking about sunflowers ever since Max had mentioned them to Red. It was silly but she could use a pick-me-up, so she decided to run to the flower shop on her lunch break and buy a small arrangement of them.

Max did a double-take as he saw Zoey holding the very bouquet he had messaged Red about that morning.

Tobin jumped in before he could ask about them, “Ooooo, somebody has a secret admirer? Do tell, Boss Lady!”

Zoey laughed, “Sorry to disappoint you, but I bought them myself. I love sunflowers, they’re just so friendly looking. So, when I saw them while I was at lunch, I just had to get them.”

Max watched as she placed them on her desk, his brow furrowed in concentration. Was it possible? Could Zoey…..

“Everything okay, Max?” Zoey asked, glancing over at him.

He shook his head, and smiled, “Yeah, everything is great. I never knew sunflowers were your favorite.”

Zoey smiled, “Yeah. I fell in love with them when I went deep into research mode for a role in my first and only school play.”

“You were in a school play?” Max grinned.

She shrugged, “The whole second-grade class was required to be in it. It was a science play about flowers and pollination.”

He chuckled, “So, you were a sunflower? That sounds adorable.”

Zoey blushed, “I didn’t have any lines, but I was so terrified of being on stage that I hid behind one of the trees.”

“Ooh, I wonder if your mom has pictures….” Max pulled out his phone teasingly.

She groaned, “I’m going to regret having told you about this, aren’t I?”

“What? I think it’s sweet that you were such a shy little flower!”

Zoey shook her head, taking a seat at her desk and focusing on work.

Just as she was getting ready to shut everything off for the day, her e-mail pinged with a message from Max, she glanced over at him suspiciously.

Max was completely focused on his computer screen, not bothering to look up.

When she opened the message she rolled her eyes, she should have known he’d ask her mom about it. It was a picture of her dressed as a sunflower, peeking out from behind a tree on stage, but it was the next photo that made her grin. It was a photo of a very different school play, one where Max was front and center on stage, dressed as a turkey!

Max caught her eye and they both started laughing.

"I can't believe you were a turkey!" Zoey managed between giggles.

"I'll have you know I was the best turkey in that play!" Max defended himself.

"Just how many other turkeys were in the play?" Zoey teased.

"Okay fine, so I was the only turkey, but that still makes me the best," Max admitted.

"But I was right, you were an adorable sunflower," Max smiled at her, and Zoey felt her cheeks redden.

"Come on, Mr. Turkey, we don't want to be late," Zoey said as she grabbed his arm, trying to hide her blush, as they walked to the elevators. "For what it's worth, you made a pretty cute turkey," she grinned at him.

"Yeah, well, I managed to forget my one line. I was so nervous," Max confessed.

"What line was that?" Zoey asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Gobble, gobble," Max mumbled, embarrassed.

Zoey threw her head back and laughed. Max couldn't help but stare at her as she laughed. It had been so long since she had really laughed at something. She was beautiful, her eyes sparkling with tears of mirth, her cheeks flushed and her lips turned up in a big smile. Max felt his heart race as he looked at her. If only….no, she wasn't interested in him like that...The sunflowers thing was a coincidence….right?....

Zoey wiped tears from her eyes and patted him on the shoulder as she finally caught her breath. "That beats me for ‘embarrassing acting story’."

"Needless to say, that was also my first and only play," Max grinned.

"Well, that settles it. Neither of us will realize our childhood dreams of acting," Zoey joked.

Max laughed, "Aww man, and here I was hoping I was just a late bloomer ."

Zoey shook her head, "Really, Max? Flower puns?"

"What can I say, they can really start to grow on you…it's not like I had planted to have this many"

Zoey groaned loudly, "That's it. I'm walking away now," she headed out the door and in the direction of the club.

Max grinned and quickly ran to catch up with her.

________________________________________________________________

As they walked through the door, Mo and Eddie waved them over to their booth. Max gestured to the bar and Zoey nodded, heading towards their friends.

“Zolene, you made it!” Mo smiled as Zoey slid into the booth. “Where’s your Piano Man?”

Zoey glared at Mo, “Shhh, keep your voice down! He’s grabbing us drinks.”

“Child, he is at the bar in a noisy club, you know he can’t possibly hear me!” Mo nudged Eddie and rolled his eyes. “Besides, Eddie knows all about your online dilemma.”

“Mo!” Zoey hissed.

He took a sip of his drink, “What? This story was just too good not to share!”

Zoey dropped her head on the table and groaned in embarrassment.

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s adorable,” Eddie chimed in. “You two are clearly meant to be.”

“Who’s meant to be?” Max asked. Zoey quickly sat up and thanked him as he set her drink down in front of her.

“Oh, uh just some teenagers on a show that Mo is obsessed with,” Zoey covered weakly, taking a sip of her drink.

“I didn’t have you come here to disrespect my love Bevi love! Come on, girl,” Mo dragged Zoey out on the dance floor.

“Ummm….Mo, you know I don’t really dance,” she glanced around nervously.

“You and I both know that, Zoldilocks. We’re out here so you can fill me in on things with you and Max.” Mo gestured for Zoey to follow his lead on the floor.

“There isn’t any me and Max….”

“And whose fault is that? You’re in love with him, he’s in love with you, make it happen!”

“But Mo, he’s not in love with me. He’s in love with Red!” Zoey explained, frustrated both with the conversation and trying to keep up with Mo’s “simple” dance moves.

“Zoey, you and Red are the same person….no matter how much you try and convince yourself otherwise. The person Max has fallen in love with is you!” Zoey started to interrupt and Mo quickly cut her off. “So help me, if you say that he will be “disappointed that it’s you” one more time, I will play Macarena nonstop for a week straight!

Zoey held up her hands in defeat, “Alright, I won’t say it….no need to play dirty.”

Mo grabbed Zoey’s hand and twirled her, “Whatever it takes to shake you out of this ridiculous denial. It's time you stopped hiding and realized that some things in life that are worth risking everything for. Tell him the truth about Red, I promise you he won’t be disappointed.”

Zoey opened her mouth to respond when they were interrupted by Max and Eddie.

“May I have this dance gorgeous?” Eddie grinned offering his hand to Mo.

“You can have every dance, as long as you keep calling me that,” Mo glanced meaningfully at Zoey as he and Eddie made their way to the center of the dance floor.

“Do you want to go back to the booth? I know you’re not a huge fan of dancing,” Max offered.

Zoey smiled at him, “Actually, I wouldn’t say not to a dance or two. I can’t promise that I’ll be any good…”

Max’s face broke into a grin, “It’s a good thing I’m familiar with your dancing skills.”

He led her out onto the dance floor just as the song changed to a slower number. His face fell, “Oh, we can wait for a faster one if you want.”

Zoey took in a deep breath, here was her chance to prove to Mo that Max didn’t feel anything but friendship for her. She shook her head, “No this is fine.” She placed her arms around Max’s neck and stepped closer to him.

Max swallowed nervously as her fingers grazed the back of his neck. He placed his hands on her waist and they started to slowly sway to the rhythm of the music.

Giving in to temptation she closed her eyes, leaned against his chest, and smiled softly. She felt his fingers flex against her back, a slight shiver running through her as she thought how they would feel running along the rest of her body.

Max glanced down at the woman in his arms, she fit so perfectly against him, as though they were made for one another.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Zoey glanced up at him, her eyes searching his face questioningly.

Her lips parted slightly as she realized how close their faces were. She could feel her heart racing from the look in his eyes.

"Zoey?" he whispered, leaning forward slightly.

She started to lean towards him, only to be interrupted by a tipsy young couple stumbling against them.

The was spell broken, she quickly pulled herself away from Max, unable to meet his gaze.

"Woah, sorry bout that," the inebriated couple apologized with a giggle.

Zoey waved them off, quickly making her way from the dance floor to their booth. Max trailed behind her confused as to what had just happened.

Quickly downing her drink, Zoey grabbed her jacket and turned to Max.

"It's getting kind of late. I think I'm just going to head home," she explained, trying to calm the flush on her cheeks.

Max opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it. "Sure. I'll let Mo and Eddie know," he sighed. "Thanks for the dance."

Zoey managed a weak grin at him and nodded. "See ya," she said, racing for the door, needing to put as much space as possible between her and Max.

As she waited for her ride she thought about what had just happened between her and Max. If that couple hadn't bumped into them would he have kissed her?

She was more confused than ever, was Mo right? Did Max have feelings for her?

She felt her heart skip a beat as she remembered how he had looked at her on the dance floor.

Mo was right about one thing though, she needed to tell him the truth about Red, and soon.

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