Jazz - Tumblr Posts
Small jazz doodle cuz college got me fucked up đđ
Bucky Barnes Jazz Bar àčàŁ â
âHow did you know about this place? It's 19 years oldâ my hand was holding hers as she led me to a huge bar with a red sign.
Everyone was dressed elegantly, forming a long line around the place, each of them in suits or dresses, elegant shoes, and shiny jewelry, making me feel out of place as I was dressed in blue jeans, a black shirt, a dark blue blazer, and normal black shoes.
Cass looked beautiful, and for the occasion, she was so herself. She wore a long burgundy red top with a black knee-length skirt, burgundy boots, a long black leather coat, and her burgundy purse where she kept the keys to my bike and my few belongings as I didn't know where we were going.
âI have friends outside the superhero world, and my last name isn't just for death threats or kidnappings; it's also for jumping the line right nowâ she said with a simple smile, pulling out a white card with a golden number on it and handing it to the security guard with his arms crossed against his chest.
With a simple smile, she handed a white card with a golden number on it to the security guard, who then let us pass by moving aside the rope separating the entrance from the line. Her hand never let go of mine as she guided me through the environment of red armchairs, alcohol, tables, and a stage in front of all the seating areas.
âÂżWhat can I help you with tonight?â a waitress approached us with her uniform and a black tray with small glasses of orange liquid with orange slices inside.
âGood evening, I'm Cassidy Stark, and I reserved a table in the upstairs area; if you could take us there, it would be excellentâ she sounded so serious and kind at the same time.
A bit hypnotizing the way she interacted with others, using her privileged position to get things done, something I was used to seeing her do at the complex, albeit in a disheveled manner and always with laughter in her voice.
âFollow me, Miss Stark.
The woman started walking ahead of us, guiding the way from the ground floor, which was filled with people already sitting at tables in front of the stage, having drinks or food and patiently waiting with little chatter to avoid drowning out the smooth jazz that was playing by the live bands tonight. We stood in front of some stairs a few meters from the stage against the wall. These stairs had a ribbon like the one outside but this time with a white sign hanging from the burgundy velvet that read "VIP."
âThe reservation was for table 3 next to the bay, Âżright?â she asked as she looked at something on a computer.
I didn't know anything, and I was more focused on seeing the place and its mysterious and reserved aesthetics. But as I looked around and tried to read the decorative signs hanging on the walls, I heard Cass's affirmative voice along with the clinking sound of metal.
âLet's go, Buckâ she pulled my hand as she climbed the stairs, leaving the waitress behind to be just the two of us along with a few others upstairs.
We had the best view of the stage, and the lights above were closer, almost as if it weren't for the warm, red lights, we would be in the dark.
âIt's a new and exclusive bar because of its mysterious nature and the few reservations it allows. People outside are waiting in case there's room inside, even to stand and be with the people listening to unknown Jazz bands, indie music actually but soft from the aesthetics of the place.
âÂżWhy did you do this?â I asked as I looked around.
âYou need to go to places with people who aren't from your environment. It's called exposure therapy, and since you said you liked jazz, wellâ she gave me a small smile before we sat facing each other.
âÂżSo it's like a date?â I asked with a raised eyebrow.
âSomething like that.
I chuckled a bit, shaking my head before turning to the candlelight in the middle of the table, casting a warm glow on Cass's face.
âÂżWhiskey as usual?â she asked, taking her gaze off the menu to look at me.
âSomething normal. You know I don't like those trendy drinks nowadaysâ I looked at her with a small smile.
âYou should try something new in your drinks to know that there are more things than the harshness and pain of whiskeyâ she left the menu as we heard the voice of a man.
We turned to see the waiter, who was dressed like the girl before, holding a notebook and a pen.
âI'll have an espresso martini, and he'll have a whiskey The Macallan 1926, pleaseâ she sounded very firm but kind, giving him a smile.
âÂżFor food?
âI'll have spaghetti with bolognese ragoutâ she sounded so good speaking Italian that I didn't think about what I wanted to eat.
They both stared at me, waiting for my response, so I stared back at the guy, trying to compose myself.
âThe same as her, thanksâ I said in a deep voice.
He left, and I heard Cass's laughter faintly, to the point where I also laughed a bit with her.
âÂżDo you even know what you ordered?â she asked incredulously, playing with the napkins.
âNo, I'm somewhat scared it might be the worst thing I've ever tasted in my life. I really hope it's deliciousâ I said, feeling the live music starting to play.
It was calm with light drums and a marked rhythm, with a bit of electric guitar in the background along with a guy singing into the microphone artistically. The song seemed to be about a woman, or at least that's what I thought from the way "She" was repeated.
âIt's a Bolognese pasta, but the meat is cooked with milk and white wine. The noodles are a bit thicker than usual, and it's served with grated cheese on the sidesâ she explained with a small smile.
âIt doesn't sound so bad, but the idea of meat cooked in milk and wine sounds disgusting due to the combination.
She shrugged her shoulders, staring fixedly at the stage with attention, her right hand holding her chin with her elbow resting against the table, and her left hand playing lightly with the plants on the railing.
âYour drinks and your plates, and in 5 minutes, your food will be readyâ the guy brought the white plates with food and the glasses with the wine bottle.
âThank youâ Cass said, getting comfortable, waiting and watching how they left our food.
The plate was white with clean edges, and the pasta in the middle with the sauce spread nicely, with the touch of cheese on the sides slightly raising the mountain with pieces of meat and tomato randomly placed.
âEnjoy.
He left, and my girlfriend took a photo of her plate along with the glass.
âI don't understand why you do thatâ I said as I took a sip of my drink.
âÂżWhat?â she asked, putting her phone down near the railings and placing the napkin on her lap.
âThe photo of your food. I don't understand why you take a picture of your food.
âBecause it's pretty, and I want to take a picture of it. Besides, I like posting them in my stories because it looks nice and aestheticâ she began to eat her food lightly.
âI don't understand this modern era. In my times, photos were taken of people and landscapes.
I tried to mimic the way she ate and picked up the pasta from the plate.
She shook her head while laughing before looking back and listening to the music, her foot tapping a bit against my leg, marking the beat of the song.
We spent the night until around 2 am listening to the same guy with his band, drinking a bottle of red wine and finishing the food with a strange frozen dessert that had a chocolate brownie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream prepared with champagne according to the dessert menu.
âThank you, have a good nightâ the waiter left after Cass swiped her black card.
âÂżShall we, Buck?â she asked, getting up carefully and with her jacket on, along with her bag.
âÂżAre you okay?â I asked, standing up.
âJust a little dizzyâ she gave me a small smile.
I took her hand carefully to help her down the stairs, seeing how, despite the time, the bar was still full of new people, and the line outside had the same number of people.
âÂżWhy are there still so many people?â I asked confused.
âThe bar is open until 5 amâ Cass replied as she brushed her hair out of her face, breathing in the fresh air.
We both walked to my bike slowly, enjoying the cool spring air with the few stars in the sky.
âBuckâ Cass stopped us a few meters from the bike, her hand on her chest, looking at the ground.
I thought the worst; two months ago, her "heart" had suddenly stopped while she was chatting with the guys at dinner, and she was in intensive care until this week when she finally got rid of her tube and some pills to take and eat solid things, but we were all worried. I think if Cass were to shut down right now on the street, and knowing I only have 5 minutes to get her to the complex doctors, I wouldn't mind killing people in my way to the middle of the forest far from the city just to save her.
âÂżWhat's wrong, Doll?â I asked worriedly, placing my hand on her shoulder.
Her head lifted to look at me with her eyes before throwing herself into my shoulders and kissing me forcefully, putting her hands on my left shoulder and on my hip, smiling in the middle of the kiss.
âThank you for giving me a very nice night; I needed to forget about my life for a momentâ she whispered on my lips.
Sparkley boi. Anyways I might go ahead and complete this drawing just for an excuse to make head cannons on both the characters.
Here's the finished product. Soundwave and jazz being forbidden friends :)
This app is awesome but I have to pay money for it to work so I'm not going to use it very much. Ill just stick to Sketchbook for bigger drawings. @retr0scum has a special place in the corner :)
Le Bette, lil'bitty, the babe, das Baby đŠŠđ¶
I may have fallen into a rabbit hole with this one. I'm anxious, confused, disgusted, and massively falling for many of these characters.
Only on Chapter 27 but I'm already committed to seeing this one through. And hey, I can sketch an Otter! Since this story is so visceral in my mind, I'm hoping to translate those images into some successful sketches? We shall see.
Good luck if you choose to read.
I've been mulling over whether to share this or not, bc I don't think I did this very well. Oh well, here it is.
Ok, so Ninth by Kyn has been taking over my brain. At first I was not totally set on the whole theme. But it quickly became very compelling. This scene from Chapter 11 was stuck in my mind for days, so I had to get it out!
I still think I SUCK at coloring. So much more practice is needed. Anyways, I literally have a list of scenes from fics that I would love to reproduce. Let's see if my skill can increase the more and more I keep doodling!
"I'm okay. You're okay. Everything is okay."
I'm almost caught up with Ninth. It is so good. Really recommend anyone who likes a strong/long fic to check it out.
The nightfly
Tribute to Donald Fagen's "The nightfly" (1982).
Imperial Triumphant
Vile Luxury
New York jazzy progressive blackened death. These fellows are insanely talented, and bring a variety of musical elements together into a terrifyingly beautiful experience. Their latest album, Vile Luxury, is a streamlined, precise mixture of all their influences, and it is a powerful creation to behold.
They are currently wrapping up the Blood Sand Ash tour with UADA and Panzerfaust, and you really should not miss it.
Ya Like Jazz? đ·
I found this CD at a thrift store and it's ... incredible...
#homesweethomeđĄ #vacations #relaxingday #billieholiday #natkingcole #jazz
@out_jazz na melhor companhia. Grande mĂșsica, bons amigos, melhor paisagem. O que se quer mais? #jazz #outjazz #livethelifeyouwant #liveeverydaylikeitsyourlast #profissaoandorinha #bewithfriends #torredebelem #lisboa #festival (at Jardim da Torre de BelĂ©m)