brass feels~

Classical instrument asks!

1. What is your instrument’s full name?
2. When did you get your instrument?
3. What brand and model is it?
4. Is it a he, she, or somewhere in between?
5. What made you choose that instrument?
6. Favourite thing about your instrument?
7. Least favourite thing about your instrument?
8. What accent would your instrument have if it could talk?
9. Three adjectives to describe your instrument’s personality.
10. What classical song best describes your instrument?
11. What non classical song best describes your instrument?
12. Finish this sentence: “my instrument and I are like______”
13. Why did you name your instrument that?
14. What is your instrument’s aesthetic?
15. If your instrument could go shopping at the mall, where would it shop?
16. What musical era best suits your instrument?
17. What is the most damage that has been done to your instrument?
18. Write a letter to your instrument!
19. If your instrument was a character on “The Office”, who would they be?
20. What similarities do you and your instrument share?

Send Me a Number and I’ll Tell You...

1. Dumb Dumb or Russian Roulette
2. BOOMBAYAH or Playing with Fire
3. Ooh Ahh or TT
4. Up & Down or L.I.E
5. Closer or Windy Day
6. Crazy or Hate
7. I Am The Best or Come Back Home
8. Like a Cat or Excuse Me
9. Red Light or 4 Walls
10. Me Gustas Tu or Navillera 
11. Pepe or Hobgoblin
12. Joker or Fri.Sat. Sun.
13. Mr. Mr. or You Think
14. I or Why
15. Whatta Man or Very Very Very
16. You’re The Best or Decalcomanie
17. Touch My Body or I Like That
18. Shake That Brass or Need to Feel Needed
19. MOYA or I’m Jelly Baby
20. Secret or I Wish
21. Ring My Bell or Something
22. Only You or Hush
23. Mamma Mia or Mr.
24. Sting or Vibrato
25. Deepend or High Heels
26. Angel or Don’t Believe
27. The Rain or Galaxy
28. One More or Apple Pie
29. You Don’t Love Me or Secret Time
30. Mind Your Own Business or Home
31. Shut Up & Groove or And July
32. Doin’ Good or Nobody’s Perfect
33. Cider or Crazy Dog

Things I Live For (BoB Edition)

• The look that Dick and Nix exchange after Dick is asked if it’s safe to cross in Carentan
• “We salute the rank, not the man.”
• Perconte’s height
• Webster’s little “They got me!”
• Luz starting the Airborne Infantry cadence while they’re running Curahee to drown out Sobel’s taunting
• “Lt Sobel hates us, sir.” “Lt Sobel does not hate Easy Company, Pvt Randleman. He just hates you.” “Thank you, sir.”
• Liebgott’s hair
• Whenever someone talks shit about Speirs, he is there and he knows
• Also Speirs’ sticky fingers like holy shit
•"Where the fuck is everybody? Where did everybody go?“ “I HAVE NO IDEA!”
• That moment in Bastogne where they’re all sitting in a circle making fun of their food and Hinkle
• Everything about Babe Heffron
• Perconte always brushing his teeth
• When the entire company sings Blood on the Risers
• “Bull, smack him for me please?” [soft smack] “Thank you.”
• Mama Lipton. Enough said
• If you get shot in the ass, you get a Hershey bar
• The way Nixon looks at Hitler’s wine cellar
• “I could use some brass knuckles.”

Please feel free to add your favorites on to the list


Soooo marching band au??? Here’s what everyone plays-

Max: Originally snare. Band needed a drum major, and was forced to do it cuz he was best fit. He soon loved it.

Nikki: Piccolo. Originally hated it and thought it was too girly, but not only did it keep her out of color guard with the ‘flower scouts’ but she was in the same section Ered was in, and she made flute seem cool. Plus she could deaf people if need be with that thing.

Neal: Clarinet. Old and breaks easy so he’s always got a tool kit on hand and tinkering with it. Hates the thing and swears it has a mind of its own when he’s playing, but for some reason it plays beautifully when he’s calm and into the music.

Harrison: Saxophone. Like playing weird shit, Too many Zooz is his jam.

Preston: Oboe. Refused to switch to another instrument for marching band, and doesn’t march, plays in the pit. Furiously tries out for every solo ever, super critical on others playing.

Nerris: Euphonium. Liked the deep sounds of the brass instrument, makes he feel powerful playing it. She claims the band would be nothing without he low brass supported. (She’s right for the most part)

Ered: Flute. Actually super talented, one of the best players in band. Duels sometimes playing xylophone if needed.

Nurf: Tuba. Hates tuba player stereotypes. Only plays it for support during marching season, otherwise playing trumpet. Ered taught him how to play flute after practice once.

Dolf: Bugle. Will play trumpet if bribed, and is good at it.

Space kid: Bass drum. Loves playing it. His personal drum kit has different planets painted on each drum.

Flower Scouts: All color guard. David never dares to guide them in anyway, even as band director.

Wood Scouts: Various percussion. All actually p good, just extremely cocky. Max haaaates having to work with them on timing, always slightly off cuz they think they are too good to watch a drum major.

David & Gwen: Co-directors. Trying to build a marching band from the ground up. Gwen as originally the band teacher for elementary schoolers, but bailed as soon as she saw a new band teacher opening up. No more deafening recorders.
David is well established in composing music, and helped direct a couple bands before, but never had one of his own. He was introduced to a ragtag group of band kids in need of a director with a shit school budget and old instruments to match. Turns out they ran off many directors and needed to be ‘whipped into shape’.

If u got any questions about this au feel free to ask me ^^

Tripping Over the Blue Line (1/45)

It’s a transition. That’s what Emma’s calling it. She’s transitioning from one team to another, from one coast to another and she’s definitely not worried. Nope. She’s fine. Really. She’s promised Mary Margaret ten times already. So she got fired. Whatever. She’s fine, ready to settle into life with the New York Rangers. She’s got a job to do. And she doesn’t care about Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers. At all.

He’s done. One more season and he’s a free agent and he’s out. It’s win or nothing for Killian. He’s going to win a Stanley Cup and then he’s going to stop being the face of the franchise and he’s going to go play for some other garbage team where his name won’t be used as puns in New York Post headlines. That’s the plan. And Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations isn’t going to change that. At all.

They are both horrible liars.

Rating: Mature
Content Warnings: Swearing, eventual hockey-type violence
AN: GUYS. Oh my gosh. I am so excited to finally be able to start posting my CSBB and share this story that has absolutely taken over my life. This would be absolutely nothing without @laurnorder who is a pillar of word-reading support and fantastic’ness (which she would correct because that’s not a word) as well as @beautiful-swan who has made some absolutely gorgeous edits for this story. She’ll say it’s not true, but this story would not be finished without the flails of @distant-rose who is a goddamn delight. Happy hockey season!

Also available on Ao3 and

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The Middle of the Night

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: StilesxReader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Kinda long, a little rushed at the end 

Prompt Summary: Reader and Sitles are in a relationship. When Stiles starts acting weird, reader decides to take it into their own hands.

Credit to GIF owner

You and Stiles had been dating for a couple months now. And needless to say, it was the best few months of your life. Full of compassion, funny jokes and numerous Star Wars marathons. For the most part, you two were completely oblivious to the outside world and were only infatuated with each other. However, the past two nights, Stiles had been acting peculiar. He was fidgety and anxious, and hardly listened to what you said to him. It was as if he was living on his own planet; his own Death Star. 

On top of his abnormal acting, Stiles had been disappearing during the night. You had only noticed when around 1 A.M you woke to an empty bed and drawers left open with shirts spilling out. You worried about Stiles, he usually told you exactly where he was going and when he’d be back. So tonight, you devised a plan.  

You and Stiles sat in silence as drove home from school in his old blue jeep. His thumbs twiddled with the steering wheel, only the soft hum of pop songs from the radio could be heard between the two of you. 

“Stiles..” you murmur, keeping your eyes pinned to the road. He doesn’t reply, in fact he doesn’t even acknowledge your voice. “Stiles!” you say more sternly. Stiles merely jumps out of his skin, the jeep swerving in the middle of the road. “What?” Stiles asks. His face was pale. You furrow your eyebrows, “Stiles, are you okay?” you ask. Stiles shoots a glance towards you, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine”. You flopped against the back seat, completely unconvinced. 

11 P.M soon rolled around. You and Stiles had spent the day studying for a chem test atop his bed. For the most part, he remained quiet and focused, yet you could still spot multiple times where his mind wandered off. You both decided to call it a night, snuggling underneath the covers of his bed. With his arms latched around you, you could feel the tenseness of his muscles beneath his shirt, his uneasy breathing on the back of your neck. Your worry for him only peaked.

At 1 A.M, you felt him get out of bed. He opened the drawers, threw on a sweat shirt and strode out of the room, making sure to quietly close the door behind him. Once you heard the blue jeep engine roar in the driveway, you hopped out of bed, through something on and grabbed the keys to your own car. You ran downstairs, got into your car and waited till Stiles was a safe distance away, then you started up your car and drove after him.

You had been driving for about half an hour when Stiles suddenly made a sharp turn down an old rugged path leading into the forest of Beacon Hills.        “What are you up to Stiles?” you asked yourself, parking your car on the side of the road. You decided that continuing this journey on foot would be the safest choice.

The night air was bitter, sending goosebumps along your spine. Your tucked your arms close to your chest, desperate to keep whatever warmth you had close to your body. The moon hung alone in the sky with faintly shining stars accompanying its side. You kept your eyes pinned to the dimly lit tail lights of Stiles’ jeep. As you walked on, dead leaves crunching beneath the soles of your shoes, you noticed a looming shadowy figure come up in the distance. Your breath hitched, it was the old Hale house. 

Stiles jeep came to a halt and you found yourself hiding behind a tree, watching as Stiles stepped out of the car and briskly made his way up to the entrance of the Hale house. You shook your head, how did he even know the Hale family? Reluctantly, you followed him, taking uneasy glances around the huge, yet collapsing, house. You watched as Stiles opened the front door and stepped in, no hesitation what so ever. Your head lulled back, the last thing you wanted to do was go into the Hale house and merely 2 in the morning. Yet, you carried on, silently jogging up to the front of the house.  

You gingerly walked up the stairs, coming face to face with door. You stood there frozen. What were you supposed to do? Knock? Walk in? You took a deep breath and gripped the brass doorknob, the feeling of the metal cold against your sweaty palms. You opened the door, peeping your head around the corner to see five pairs of eyes staring at you. 

One of the eyes glows blue, long jagged teeth emerging from his mouth, claws drawn at his sides. You let out a scream, pressing your back into the wall as the man strides towards you. 

“Woah wait!” you hear Stiles’ voice call from behind the ginormous man. You stare at his glowing, electric blue eyes as they slowly return to a normal brown color, teeth receding into his mouth. The man glares at you.

“Stiles.. who is this?” the man asks in a low voice, his eyes not leaving you as he speaks. The other three people shift uneasily, all making there way towards you. 

“Who are you?” you hiss at the man. His upper lip twitches, “Derek Hale”. You stare in awe, “Stiles why are you hanging out with Derek Hale and why does he have glowing blue eyes?” you ask. Stiles runs his hands over his face, “Ok ok.. well um. Derek that’s my girlfriend Y/N.. and uh erm.. Y/N that’s Derek Hale” Stiles says. You shoot him a glare, only to notice Scott standing right next to him along with two of your other friends from school, Lydia and Allison. 

“What are you guys doing here? Is this some kind of cult?” you ask nervously. Derek snorts, “Close enough”. You look at him wide eyed. Scott turns to Stiles, “Does she know?” he asks. You shake your head, “Do I know what?” 

Derek rolls his eyes and lets his head slam into his hands, “Stiles, you didn’t tell her?” he groans. You begin to grow impatient, “Tell me what?” you groan. Stiles throws his hands in the air, “How am I supposed to tell my girlfriend that my best friend is a werewolf with werewolf friends that I secretly visit in the night!” he retorts. Shock floods your body and your eyes dart around the room.

“Wait, so you are all werewolves?” you ask. “No, only Scott and I..” Derek murmurs as his eyes glow blue once again. You look at Scott and with ultimate hesitation, he lets his eyes flash a deep crimson color. You stand there in silence, keeping your mouth squeezed shut. 

“So, you’ve been sneaking out every night to hang out with your werewolf buddies?” you ask Stiles. He licks his lips and nods his head.

“That’s so awesome!” you laugh. The whole pack looks at you in awe. 

“What?” Stiles asks in surprise. 

“Dude, you gotta tell me these things. You know I’ll want in” you say, still shocked yet excited about your new found friends of the supernatural. 

“Uhm.. alright then” Stiles replies, letting a huge breath flow through his lips. You then spent the rest of the night with the pack, learning about werewolves and other supernatural creatures with Stiles sitting right next to you, arm hooked around your shoulders the entire time.