STRINGS Violin - Are you a perfectionist? Viola - What makes you different? Cello - Favourite place to be? Double Bass - How do you like to relax? Acoustic Guitar - What instruments do you play? Electric Guitar - Do you experience synesthesia? Electric Bass - What do you want to study? Electric Cello - Favourite composer? Electric Violin - Have you ever been in a musical/play? Harp - Favourite piece you’ve played? Ukulele - Are you a good performer? Sitar - Where do you see yourself in 10 years? Balalaika - Do you enjoy playing sports? Mandolin - Who inspires you?
WOODWINDS Piccolo - Describe your personality Flute - Have you ever gone overseas? Oboe - Favourite kind of weather? Cor Anglais - Introvert, ambivert, or extrovert? Clarinet - How much time do you spend online? Bass Clarinet - Favourite item of clothing? Bassoon - Do you enjoy online shopping? Contrabassoon - Are you brave? Bass Flute - Can you dance? Soprano Saxophone - How many times have you broken a bone? Alto Saxophone - Have you ever pulled an all nighter? Tenor Saxophone - Favourite film? Baritone Saxophone - Describe your dream bedroom
BRASS French Horn - Where are you from? Mellophone - Favourite musical? Trumpet - What makes you happy? Slide Trumpet - Do you like being outdoors? Cornet - Favourite genre of music? Flugelhorn - How do you feel about your past? Bugle - Would you ever join the army? Trombone - Describe your dream meal Valve Trombone - Do you suffer from imposter syndrome? Bass Trombone - Are you reliable? Tenor Horn - What do you aspire to be? Baritone Horn - Do you have perfect pitch? Euphonium - Favourite food? Sousaphone - Who is your hero? Tuba - How/Why did you join Tumblr?
OTHER AEROPHONES Melodica - Do people consider you annoying? Harmonica - What makes you laugh? Accordion - Favourite Tumblr blog? Air Horn - Are you good with kids? Ocarina - Do you know how to do CPR?
Whistle - Favourite smell?
Slide Whistle - What TV shows have you binge-watched? Didgeridoo - Tell a funny story!
Recorder - How well did you do in school?
PERCUSSION Xylophone - Do you like classical music? Marimba - What’s your ringtone? Glockenspiel - Are you talkative? Bongos - Can you jumpstart a car? Wood Block - Describe your dream house Snare Drum - Favourite colour? Bass Drum - Would you want to be able to read minds? Timpani - Do you enjoy meeting new people? Gong - Are you a loud or soft person? Triangle - Could you imagine being the President/Prime Minister? Steel Drum - Favourite season?
I started my sophomore year as a drum major, meaning I tried out for the position as a freshman. Don’t let your fears stop you from trying something that you want to do, have faith in yourself because you can achieve anything you want.~ Trumpet Major
Don’t ever give up on your dream of marching Drum Corps and don’t let anyone tell you you’re incapable of making it. I started as a saxophone player and continued to be a voice major, neither are really found in DCI. As of today I have marched 2 seasons of World Class corps and marched in DCI finals with my dream corps, Phantom Regiment. I told myself I wouldn’t give up until I achieved my dream….you shouldn’t either.
joshdevinedrums: It was a childhood dream of mine to play drums at Wembley Stadium. Never thought it would be possible, but 3 years ago we got to play not 1, but 3 nights there. I’m so proud, and beyond blessed to call this memory my own. Thankyou to my brothers in One Direction for takin me on the journey of a lifetime. ❤️
soft andreil because it’s v day & these boys own my heart, i’m sorry in advance?? now excuse me while i go put my andreil playlist on repeat
So there are nights when Neil just watches Andrew sleep because he can’t fall asleep for whatever reason, and of course, there are always a thousand reasons. The stress of getting back into something as trivial as schoolwork after everything that’s happened, dealing with the new additions to the foxes who Neil sometimes feels were placed there just to torment him further, the PTSD and the bad dreams, that drumming fear in his chest & that odd twitch in his feet that still function on an old familiar instinct to run and just get the hell out.
On those nights looking at Andrew, asleep and undettered by his side is therapeutic, it reminds him that this, this, this is what he’s fought for all these years without even realizing it. This sense of stability, home, hearth.
Sometimes it collides with a warring sense of utter disbelief. There are times Neil still wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat afraid out of his mind that he’ll be alone in some strange city somewhere, or trapped in Edgar Allan with nothing but Riko’s abuse for company or watching his mother’s corpse go up in flames at a beach. There are times Neil has to sit down and relearn breathing, times he has to remind himself that this isn’t some cruel dream. That he gets to keep this. No hallucinations. No sick games. Just this. The two of them. Together.
Watching Andrew sleep always sends the haunting thoughts spiraling away, because all he can focus on is the loose set of Andrew’s jaw, the dim fluttering of his pale lashes that catch the moonlight like powdered sugar and the way his breaths come and go.
How lucky he is, he thinks, to be the one to get to have Andrew like this, in the way nobody else gets to. He would never admit it to anyone, but sometimes, he feels almost smug about it.
But mostly, he feels grateful. Grateful for the kisses and the keys and the company, for the trust. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be for Andrew to let himself fall asleep next to someone else, to not yank out the knife everytime he feels Neil twist in his sleep or hears Neil’s breathing at his ear, to restrain his movements so that he doesn’t wake in a violent spasm and break one of Neil’s ribs in the process.
Andrew’s an extremely light sleeper, so sometimes he thinks he knows Neil’s watching him, can probably trace his gaze blind, but he never says anything about it, never reprimands him over it. Neil’s just glad he doesn’t have to hear Andrew go “stop looking at me like that” with his eyes closed and feigning sleep.
Neil can’t help but think how young and unimpeachable Andrew looks in his sleep. The way the light spills into his hair, how it frames him like a portrait that deserves to hang in an art museum somewhere. Sometimes, Neil thinks, Andrew tries so hard to appear baleful, that the people around him forget that he’s just a damaged kid, coping against all odds, in the only way he knows how.
He really will be pummeling someone six ways to Sunday if they ever try to convince him Andrew’s a sociopath ever again.
Some nights, when neither of them can sleep, Andrew just silently gets up and grabs the keys for the Maserati before heading out the door, knowing Neil will follow.
And they drive and they drive with no particular destination in mind. Sometimes they’ll talk. Most times they don’t. They just soak in the reassurance of the other’s presence like they might run out if they don’t keep acknowledging it. Usually, they don’t bother to turn on the radio. They both appreciate the silence. Sometimes Andrew will allow Neil to crack a window. They’ll enjoy the night breeze, the sound of the tires squelching smoothly against the asphalt, a weirdly calming percussion.
Tonight, Neil’s feeling experimental. He flips on the radio and Andrew says nothing about it. Not an approval, but not a negative either.
There is something torrentially exhilarating about driving as far away from Palmetto State University as possible then turning right back instead of skittering off into the unknown. He’s mapped these roads into the back of his hand, he knows them like he knows his own name. He knows he’ll always find his way back from here. Back home.
The song on the radio intones what he’s feeling, the artist says we’re running on fumes but we’ll make it through the night.
Sometimes they’ll park the car on the edge of the highway and kiss each other until they can’t feel their mouths. Neil thinks Andrew is the only thing that keeps him grounded sometimes, that keeps him from having a virtual panic attack every ten minutes.
“You’re real,” Neil says, between kisses, it was meant to be a statement but it comes out as a question. “As real as you.” Andrew’ll reply. He knows how much Neil needs to hear that, even if it gets repetitive and annoying, he knows he needs to keep being reminded that he’s home now, and that he’s fractured & reeling & disturbed but that he’s okay.
When they do eventually go back to sleep, Neil will wake up before Andrew just to run a finger through his hair or over the ridges of his cheeks as he sleeps so that he can memorize this touch, the feeling of this touch, burn it into his brain for when it gets bad again.