homework is waiting

quotes from the music department

*Repeatedly sings part of the music in scat*

“Ben swore to Jesus that if he didn’t help me at the concert he’d do thirty push-ups in front of the entire band, and I’m just as excited for this as you guys are.”

“If it were easy, football players would be doing this”

“We were 4.75 points off of the next band, and I’ll make certain this number will haunt you until next season.”

“Tomorrow’s gonna be a rough week.”

“I’ll just get a golf cart to follow the band in the parade. Maybe one day I’ll play a halftime show in a golf cart, all by myself.”

“No, Danny, you’re not starting a group chat for jazz.”

“Someone made me a 22&½-inch stick to measure steps. Don’t make me use it.”

“Trumpets, raise your right hand, and move it over to the person next to you. You’ll be fingering the notes on their trumpet.” *leans over to woodwinds* “this is gonna be really funny”

“We don’t have Thursday night rehearsal this week, so live the lives you have outside of band. So basically, catch up on homework.”

“Here it is– wait no, that’s 32 pages, that’s not right.”

“Before we step off on Saturday, you need to focus and say the following prayer”

“All the freshmen are on break, none of them are here!” *section leader raises hand* “Adeline’s here” “She’s the only one ADELINE WHY DONT YOU TAKE BREAKS IN THE STANDS”

“I hope this is loud enough, because this is as loud as its gonna get” *glares at the saxophone that forgot the speaker* “He forgot the speaker, my own flesh and blood.”

“As usual, the bassist knows the articulation and rhythms to the saxophone parts better than the saxophones do.”

*beatboxes to metronome*

“I want you to go home, do homework, practice, do more homework, have a milkshake, and practice some more.”

“If you want to annoy the heck out of a musician, play a cadence but leave out the last chord and wait like 20 minutes”

“this passage is called ‘Glendy Burk.’ I went to high school with her, actually.”

“you aren’t feeling well? Drugs?”

“while I was in the middle of complimenting you, you made a mistake”

“that saxophone line was jazzy as hell”

“you just have to play angrier”

“what’s the point if they’re all accented?”

“you squeaked in tune”

“can you take that d?”

“you can play my final pitch”

“imagine brass knuckles, but on a tambourine”

“I had to blow on my tongue”

“Bethany, you’re my number one!”

“the entire band is pianissimo, so play really loud. mezzo piano.”

“go through the head”

“BAD tambourine!!!”

“112 is the American tempo”

“the audience started clapping during the caesura. I didn’t know whether to continue on or leave the stage.”

“Matthew, while you were gone, Ed and I determined that you’re a freeloader”

“you came in early” “I don’t remember”

“did you just compare terrible bass parts to a terrorist attack?”

“Christ, Elizabeth, you’re such a violinist”

“All of our violas are at another rehearsal today, so we’ll begin today’s rehearsal with a prayer as that is the only thing that can save us.”

“We don’t have a spare bass bow to use while Ed’s is being rehaired, so you two are just gonna have to share. Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Ah, yes, but what baroque style are we talkin’ here”

“It was at that point she handed the first chair violin a viola part. He proceeded to hand it back to her.”

“I went home and cradled that music. I never get original bass parts.”

“She turned the page in her score and forgot to continue conducting. Honestly, I would’ve been less surprised had she thrown her baton into the cello section”

“There are two basses in pit this year, so we’re an actual section, so he can’t just shove us in the corner this year HIGH FIVE”

“Does she really know how to buy a bow? She should make it a field trip so you get the right one.” *swings hands in air super wide* “it has to AGREE and BLEND with the instrument DO YOU SEE”

“When the orchestra director doesn’t know what to do she just asks the second chair. If he’s gone, she waits until a day he attends rehearsal to ask him.”

“Don’t be afraid to play out. Except during rests. Then you should be very afraid.”

“is it ok if I start to cry a little right now?”

“I had anaemia as a kid, and my schoolteacher’s name sounded like ‘anaemia’, so naturally, I hated her”

“she took the pen out of my hand and said, ‘no, Richard, use pencil.’ I was so mad”

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that there are fewer bassists today and higher rates of suicide, gang violence, school shootings…”

“channel your inner Whitney Houston”

“play quietly, like you’re about to wake a baby. except you’re the baby, because you didn’t practice”

“I have another metronome app now. I collect them.”

“if someone calls my bass a cello one more time I’m gonna lose it”

“at the gig, a drunk guy came up to me, pointed to my harp, and called it a sideways piano”

“I want the space between these notes to be so big you can fit a little drawing of a house, a sun, a tree, and little dog in there.”

“90º angle notes”

“I want the sixteenth notes so sharp they could kill a man”

“turn the soundbox on”

“do you have a fancy phone? the answer is yes, yes you do.”

“I listened to the narration a few times before realising it was in German”

“I’ve got, like, four copies of that piece. the conductor keeps forgetting that I already have it and makes me a new copy.”

“soon I’ll have AIDS. Hearing aids, I mean. I’m old, is what I’m saying”

“more birdlike, turn on roundabout faster”

“kissing from the left is different from kissing from the right. not that I would know. asking for a friend.”

INFPs are the ones who...

-Won’t break a class rule but would start a revolution
-Listen for hours, even when they know that person wouldn’t let them talk for five minutes
-Always look out for the misfits and the loners
-Do their English homework, “just for fun”
-Will wait up all night just to say good night to someone
-Remember the little things people tell them like their favorite book or their best memory
-Always say thank you to waiters and janitors
-Cry when the dog dies in movies
-Write their feelings out on paper before they can find the words in their mouths to explain them
-Sit in their rooms, late at night in the dark, crying silently because they don’t want to wake anyone up
-Who apologize to the person who ran into them
-Can never pretend that they don’t care because they’ll end up crying or angry

• never forget what B.A.P has gone through because of TS

• never forget what B.A.P has worked hard for and tired themselves out because of TS

• never forget what Yongguk said in his lyrics in AM 4:44 because of TS

• never forget what Junhong said in No-Title because of TS

• never forget that Daehyun said that the only things he has left is B.A.P and BABYz because of TS

• never forget how sick and tired B.A.P was because of TS

• never forget that B.A.P had to put on a mask because of TS

• never forget that B.A.P’s dreams were crushed because of TS

• never forget the long 8 months of loneliness and worry BABYZ had to suffer without B.A.P because of TS

• never forget B.A.P because of TS

never stop loving B.A.P because they returned to TS. because if you knew what TS has done, you would give B.A.P the world when all they need is your love and support.

anonymous asked:

prompt? : "you need to stop"

from here

“You need to stop.”

Iwaizumi looked up from his homework and at Oikawa who was laying on his bed. “What?”

“You need to stop,” Oikawa repeated. “Take a break for a while, do whatever, just stop working.”

“Are you trying to talk to me about overworking?” Iwaizumi laughed, “Because you’re not the prime example yourself.”

“You’re stressed and you’re not gonna get anything done if you’re stressed about it,” Oikawa went on. He gestured to the small pile of torn up pieces of paper next to Iwaizumi. “You rip paper when you’re stressed. The smaller the pieces, the more stressed you are.”

Iwaizumi looked at the pile next to him. He hadn’t really consciously been tearing the corners off of his papers, but there was definitely enough to be called a pile next to him. He swiped the papers off his desk into the trash. “There, now I’m not stressed by your standards. I need to work.”

“Iwa-chan, no,” Oikawa whined. “That’s not how it works.”

“I’m gonna ignore you now. I have work to do, and you do too.”

Oikawa sighed and rolled over onto his stomach. “Ten minute break? And I won’t bother you after.”

Iwaizumi’s only response was to write something down on his paper. Oikawa got up and stood behind Iwaizumi. He wrapped his arms around him and set his chin on his head. “Five minutes?”

Iwaizumi ignored him and kept working. Oikawa tightened his arms so that Iwaizumi couldn’t move his own.

“Oi-”

“Just five minutes, then you can come back,” Oikawa murmured.

“That’s it?” Iwaizumi asked skeptically.

“Yep.”

“And you’ll let me come back to my work after,” Iwaizumi clarified.

“Absolutely,” Oikawa couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice, knowing he had won. “I won’t even bother you. Promise.”

Iwaizumi sighed and put his pencil down. “I guess five minutes wouldn’t hurt.”

Oikawa practically dragged him out of his chair and over to the bed. “Just lay down and relax. I’m gonna give you a quick massage because slouching like that for so long has to be uncomfortable.”

“Just tell me when five minutes is up,” Iwaizumi muttered, practically collapsing onto the bed. Oikawa smiled softly while he agreed. He started rubbing Iwaizumi’s shoulders, smiling even more when he could see Iwaizumi relax before him.

True to his word, five minutes later, Oikawa nudged Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Iwa-chan, it’s been five minutes,” he called quietly. Iwaizumi rolled over to face him, eyes still closed. He wrapped his arms around Oikawa and buried his face in his chest.

Oikawa could just barely hear the words, “No it hasn’t,” muffled into his shirt.

“Iwa-chan, we said five minutes,” Oikawa said.

“I’ll let you know when it’s actually been five minutes,” Iwaizumi grumbled. He gripped on tighter and Oikawa smiled. He brought up a hand and started running his fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair. It took even less than five minutes for Oikawa to hear Iwaizumi’s breathing even out as he fell asleep.

Snippet of my current Lance/Lotor (Lancelot) two-shot that I’m hopefully going to post soon.

————-


“Lance, no!”

“I can do it!” Lance cried and held up his shooter. Prince Lotor stood no more than one arm’s length away from him, smirking. All of Lance’s senses prickled inside him, the adrenaline heating him up as seemingly reckless courage consumed his sane thinking. He was pushing out his breath heavily as his eyes fixated on his enemy in a scrutinizing way. The other four Paladins – and Allura – stood around him, but didn’t move an inch as to not edge Lance to do something silly. Although, at the moment, it looked like that even without any of them interfering. “Just because I’m not half Galra like Keith or have a weapon arm like Shiro or am not a genius like Pidge or have bonded with my Lion like Hunk and basically everybody else or can’t do magic like Allura—it doesn’t mean that I am less of a useful and effective fighter!” As the tension ascended rapidly, whirring noises indicated Lance’s shooter to be loading, power accumulating to get fired off. Driven in blind and mad irritation, Lance had his concentration pointed at Lotor, and Lotor only. The other watched him patiently, grin not faltering at all. At last, Lance cried out, “I am worth a Paladin!”

The distance between the two opponents remained the same - the most was for Lance to step forward than to step back - when he pulled the trigger and released the highly electrically charged and awfully hot beam.

In that moment a curious flicker glittered in Lotor’s eyes and he raised a brow in addition to his sudden interest in Lance. These few words that were spilled from that light-headed brunet guy with the toned skin and longish face, these words were enough for the Prince to come up with thoughts he didn’t know he would ever engage himself in.

Using the insecurities of this particular boy – whose name was apparently Lance – to his advantage.

But that wasn’t all.

It didn’t take more than milliseconds for the glowing light-blue laser to reach Lotor’s positional sphere, but that was enough for him to form these delicate thoughts and the last thing his mind recalled was a soon to be real fact. A final statement. Lotor’s goal. His desire.

I want him.

He’s Got Them Thick Thighs (Grayson Dolan x Reader)

Summary: Just a short imagine of you trying something new with your boyfriend. 

Warnings: Smut (ish), thigh riding. 

Word Count: 777.

A/N: shoutout to @thedolangifs and her blurbs for inspiring me to write this !

Keep reading

lance is the Most Expressive and honestly? that just makes me a bigger lance stan

aaaand here’s the reaper76 one!! 
I actually drew gabe based off an interpretation someone did of reaper in his dracula skin without the mask?? so yeah theres that