#Drake Concert Tickets

[mzminola]

Chaos Twins in post-patrol schlubby clothes before cleaning up, and in civilian wear that nods to each other.

[bearsincaves]

if duke listens to taylor swift tim listens to noah kahan. he’s the taylor swift > transmasc > noah kahan pipeline.

[semi-personal]

Brucie "I'll be damned if my baby's are sad that they missed a performance" wayne', is paying out of pocket to ensure the lovely concert people are coming back so his kids can enjoy life a bit.

And will be damned if anything goes south, so is ensuring that arkam and Co are so heavily blocked and barricaded this time so his kids can enjoy them selfs without questions.

*All the batboys have plans to see a concert in Gotham, but there’s an Arkham break out so now all hands are on deck*

Jason: Oh, great.

Tim: I hate my life.

Bruce: Look, guys, I know how much you were looking forward to seeing that show. But there will be other concerts.

Dick: No there won’t. The fact that this one’s happening is a miracle. Nobody good ever comes here because we keep killing each other.

[kitkatscabinet]

SING FOR ME BABY

Summary: The Batboys with a famous musician for an s/o

Pairings: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake x fem! reader.

DICK GRAYSON: Nu Metal

Everyone expects him to end up with a popstar, if anyone famous, someone typically feminine/fashionable to match his charm. They forget they're talking about the og crashout kid. After the incident that sees him stepping away from Robin and, subsequently, Bruce, he spends months thrashing bands like Limp Bizkit and Linkin Park

It's Roy that ends up introducing him to your band when he's suddenly unable to attend the concert he'd gotten tickets for. In typical Dick fashion, he forgets all about it until the day, attending on a whim and becoming a little mortified when he realises 1) he doesn't know any of your songs & 2) you're gorgeous. And oh my god, you're looking at him. You're laughing at him he swears!

He watches you smash a guitar into smithereens like it's nothing and he thinks he's in love. Actually shoves someone out of the way to catch the pick you throw.

It's you who slides into his DM's after the show, one of your bandmates having recognised him. He asks you out almost immediately, who cares if it's a little desperate? This man is determined to have you hanging off his arm by the next Wayne gala.

Being in a band lends you at least some anonymity outside of your fanbase, all of which is completely shattered once you go public with Dick. Not just because he's a Wayne and therefore pretty famous himself, but because he's so obsessed with showing you off, playing your music for anyone that will listen (and the people that don't want to).

JASON TODD: Pop

You're passing through Gotham whilst on tour when the inevitable happens, someone takes the opportunity to kidnap you. Enter the Red Hood, who just happened to be in the area.

Despite the hyperfeminine persona you display for your audiences, you know how to throw a punch. Which is the sight that greets Jason as he bursts through the window of one of the hundreds of warehouses in Gotham picked out by the amateur kidnappers, you, kicking the shit out of a thug whilst still in high heels.

For a few seconds, he forgets he's supposed to be saving you, too busy watching the woman decked out in pink sequins and glittery makeup kick ass. He gets his head in the game when a gun gets pulled and he's pulling you into his arms (totally unnecessary but he's not gonna pass up the opportunity. Hopes you don't notice how bricked up he is.)

You give his helmet a kiss of thanks afterwards, leaving a glossy mark whilst slipping him your number, neither of which he notices until hours later after a full day of patrol. He's never regretted the helmet over the domino mask more.

He can't exactly show his face in your music videos, but you can bet your ass he's not gonna let anybody but himself play the sexy muscular dude touching you up in them.

TIM DRAKE: Indie/alternative

He is the type of guy who sits with his iPad, phone, personal laptop, and even the bat computer open as he waits to snag tickets to your concert. He's getting those motherfucking backstage VIP passes if it kills him (or he has to kill someone else to get them).

Actually cries when he somehow still fails to secure one. Damian takes a photo and posts it on Twitter. Tim's too distraught to even care, that is until you message him. One of your friends showed you the post, and you thought he was cute. Bruce bursts into his room when he suddenly hears hysterical screaming, convinced his son is being murdered, only to back away slowly when Tim yells something about VIP tickets and some singer.

Nearly faints when you ask him out on a date after the show. He's sweaty, dishevelled and a massive mess after having a near-religious experience from hearing you live. He's honestly not convinced he's still alive, blacks out for a few seconds before all but screaming yes! in your face.

This man is your no.1 stan, and yes, that's a title he regularly defends on social media. Especially after you begin dating. Constantly gets into fights with the legions of lesbians who are distraught that you've got a boyfriend.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Wreck My Plans, That's My Man: Prequel

A/N: Sometimes, family is... (checks notes)... being in a band with your brothers? That counts, right? @cassianappreciationweek Listen, I just wanted an excuse to bring back Drummer Cassian! Time to find out how Cassian and Nesta met and how Cassian got that first date 😉 If you've read the first part, there are some fun easter eggs in here like Cassian writing the song and a callback to “I can’t wait for you to be mean to me for the rest of our lives.”

Part One // Read on AO3

“I think the end of the queue is this way.”

“I can’t believe there’s already so many people here.”

Nesta allows herself to be led down the sidewalk by her linked arm with Elain, the middle Archeron following the path carved by Feyre forging ahead. As they walk, Nesta can’t help but eye the crowds around them. Elain is right, there are more people than Nesta expected, almost all of them dressed up in some way. Some have face paint scrawled across their cheeks, some have handmade signs clasped in their hands. And Nesta even spies a trio of girls dressed as cows, some sort of band inside joke that she’s clearly not privy to.

Although, she’s not really privy to anything when it comes to the band.

She still can’t believe she allowed Feyre to talk her into attending this concert in the first place. Sure, she’s always had a deep love of music, ever since she was a little girl. Something about the way a lilting melody can carve and embed itself within her very bones, about the way a harmony can flood and warm her veins, about the way a simple string of notes can somehow sing to her very soul, plucking at strings within her until only peace remains.

But she has no knowledge of what type of music she can expect to hear tonight.

And when the choices are curling up beneath a pile of blankets with a glass of wine and her latest Sellyn Drake novel or standing all night while dealing with screaming girls and songs she doesn’t even know? Well, Feyre and Elain are lucky that Nesta loves them.

“What time do the doors open?” Elain asks, drawing Nesta out of her thoughts.

“They should have already opened,” Feyre explains, trying to peer around the bodies in front of them. “Either way, we don’t have to worry. Our tickets are for one of those fancy boxes.”

“Really?”

“We could get one of those fancy boxes but not a special entrance that doesn’t require standing in line?” Nesta asks dryly.

“Alright, grumpy,” Feyre teases with a roll of her eyes. “I’m sure it’ll move quickly.”

At least, Feyre’s assumption is correct. They continue to shuffle forward and forward until the line of doors is in full view, workers making quick work of checking bags and scanning tickets. Wristbands are secured around all three sisters’ wrists, and then they’re stepping inside the venue. Upbeat music from a playlist blares through the sound system, fans excitedly rushing forward toward the general admission crowd gathering along the floor in front of the stage.

“Come on. I want to get a t-shirt,” Feyre declares, wrapping a hand around each of her sisters’ wrists and dragging them toward the large table to the right.

While she and Elain wait for Feyre to make her purchase, Nesta eyes a pair of girls also waiting to buy merch. One of the girls has a sign, looping red letters declaring, Won’t you be my Van-Daddy? The request has Nesta snorting softly to herself. She still remembers when Lucien Vanserra first hit his growth spurt, when he was all middle school gangly limbs in their kitchen while he and Feyre worked on a school project. And that nerdy boy with unruly red hair is meant to be “daddy?”

“Got it,” Feyre announces, stepping back over to them and holding her shirt up for them to see.

“Isn’t it a bit weird to have a shirt with your childhood friend’s face on it?” Nesta asks, tilting her head as she takes in the design of the front of the shirt.

“More like hilarious,” Feyre argues, folding the shirt and tossing it over her arm. “When we get up to our seats, you have to take a picture of me in it, so I can send it to Lucien.”

They make another pit stop at one of the venue bars, each ordering a drink, and then finally, they make it to their seats. Nesta has to admit, the view is pretty amazing. She steps right up to the low wall meant to act as a railing for their box, peering down at the throngs of bodies excitedly awaiting the start of the show along the floor. Her eyes trail up and to the stage, skating over the setup for the opening act. It’s simple, just a drum set and two microphone stands set in front of it, but despite the good view of the stage, Nesta can’t quite make out the white script on the front of the drums.

“Who’s the opener?” Nesta asks, turning toward where Feyre is posing with her new shirt thrown over her dress while Elain takes her photo.

“Um…” Feyre hums, taking her phone back from Elain and typing away at the screen. “Some band called the Bat Boys.”

Nesta snorts softly. “What a stupid name for a band.”

As though the Mother herself is laughing at Nesta, the lights dim as soon as she’s made the comment, an echo of cheers ringing out all around them. Three men step out and onto the stage, each of them with dark hair and dressed in all black. They take up their spots, the guitarist speaking into the microphone and to the crowd, but Nesta finds her gaze instantly drawn to the drummer.

He’s certainly larger than his bandmates, all wide shoulders and chest. The black tank he’s wearing stretches against his size and his skin, the swell of muscle of his arms and the ink swirling along the golden brown skin on full display, and those very arms and muscles flex with every swing of his arms against the drum kit as he plays the opening song of the band’s set. His hair hangs loose around his face and down to his shoulders, dark curly strands practically swaying along with the beat of the music he’s creating. And even from her vantage point, Nesta can tell he’s got a wide, cocksure smirk plastered across his face, even as he leans forward to sing into his own microphone.

“For a band with a stupid name,” Feyre leans over to shout in Nesta’s ear over the music. “They’re pretty good.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at the almost smug tone of her youngest sister, but she can’t quite disagree. She finds herself tapping her foot and nodding along with each song that the Bat Boys play, humming appreciatively when they slow it down to a more stripped back song.

But when the song ends, the drummer jumps to his feet, peeling off his tank and tossing it into the crowd, showing off every hard line of muscle and every line of tattoo ink. A clamor of screams rings out from the crowd in response, making the drummer’s grin widen as he makes a big show of flexing.

“One two three four!” he shouts, banging his drum sticks together and jumping into the next song of their set, another upbeat one.

Nesta shakes her head. “What a fucking show off…”

~ * * * ~

Nesta’s ears are still ringing, an ache pressing against the balls of her feet, as she follows her sisters down the steps and out of the venue. The cool, night air is a welcome reprieve after the heat inside, and Nesta takes a deep breath, allowing it to prickle across the skin of her cheeks. She can still feel the music humming through her veins, still hear the last song the Band of Exiles played winding around her mind, her soul.

“Should we split an Uber?” Nesta turns to ask her sisters.

“Actually, Lucien sent me the bar they’ve gone to for post gig drinks,” Feyre offers with a sly smile. “He said we’re welcome to join.”

“Really?” Elain asks, the clear excitement coloring her tone leaving both sisters blinking in surprise for a moment, but Elain doesn’t say anything more. She merely turns away as though the night will hide the blush flooding her cheeks.

“Then you two go,” Nesta says. “I’d rather just go home.”

“Oh, come on, Nesta,” Feyre pouts, looping her arm through Nesta’s as if that will physically keep her from leaving. “It’s just one drink. It’s not going to kill you.”

Feyre continues to pout at Nesta, making a big show of blinking her eyes as if she’s seven years old again and that look will make Nesta give her an extra cookie for dessert. Still, it has Nesta sighing with a fond roll of her eyes.

“Fine. One drink and then I’m going home.”

“That’s the spirit! And just think of the money you’ll save on an Uber by waiting out these crowds.”

Nesta rolls her eyes again, but it doesn’t deter either of her sisters. Feyre doesn’t even bother dropping Nesta’s arm, using their linked arms to tug Nesta along the sidewalk in what she assumes is the direction of the bar. At least, it’s not a far walk. A small consolation, Nesta supposes.

The bar itself isn’t one that Nesta has ever been to before, but she can admit it’s quite nice. Pendant lights hang above the dark wood of the bartop, painting the whole space in golden light that bounces off the colorful bottles lining the shelves behind the bar. With the moody green wallpaper and the dark tiled floors, it’s as though the space has stepped directly out of an elegant speakeasy.

Unsurprisingly, there’s already a large crowd enjoying the drinks and ambience and their respective Friday nights, but Feyre leads the way up a set of stairs and to what appears to be some sort of private event space. Nesta glances around at the smaller secondary bar along the left side of the wall, the people gathered around it and the various high top tables lining the railing to the right.

“Feyre Archeron.”

Nesta turns just in time to find Lucien Vanserra now standing in front of her sisters. He’s certainly had another growth spurt since Nesta last saw him all those years ago, Lucien now standing a head above them all. He seems to have grown into his red hair too, the strands hanging around his face and framing the high cheekbones and strong jawline of his features.

“Lucien Vanserra.”

Feyre and Lucien continue to stare at one another for a moment, but then, Feyre is letting out an excited squeal, all but leaping into Lucien’s arms. He hugs her back tightly, lifting her off her feet in the process and laughing into the golden brown strands of her hair.

“Did you get shorter?” Lucien asks, setting Feyre back down on her feet.

“Fuck you,” Feyre gasps out on a laugh, punching him in the arm. “It’s not my fault you went and became a giant after going away to fancy private school. You know, I still remember when I had to defend you on the playground as kids.”

Lucien laughs easily, shaking his head. “We remember those days very differently clearly.”

Nesta clears her throat loudly, finally drawing back Feyre’s attention. “Sorry. You remember my two older sisters, Nesta and Elain.”

“Of course, I…” Lucien begins, his voice trailing off when he meets Elain’s brown eyes. “Elain.”

Elain smiles sweetly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I really liked you and your band’s songs.”

“You did?” Lucien asks, his voice practically breathless.

“Especially that one song about losing a love, but still dancing with the ghost of them in the kitchen.”

Lucien’s smile is slow, russet eyes bright and only on Elain. “I wrote that one myself actually.”

“It just really spoke to me,” Elain tells him, stepping forward as though tugged by some invisible golden thread. “Right to my heart.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Please.”

They don’t even say anything else, don’t even bother looking back before Elain and Lucien vanish toward the bar. It takes everything within Nesta not to snort in amusement at the whole thing, at the way they’re both so clearly staring at one another with stars in their eyes. At least, one Archeron is ending their night happy.

“Is she serious?” Feyre asks, affronted. “Lucien is my friend.”

“Can I go home now?” Nesta asks in response instead.

“Only if you’re going home with me.”

The deep timbre prickles along the back of Nesta’s neck, and when she whirls around, she comes face to face with the drummer of the Bat Boys. He has that same cocksure smile that he wore up on stage, and he seemingly found a fresh black shirt to pull on, the fabric clinging just as tightly as the tank did.

Nesta had known he was large when she saw him on stage, but face to face, she realizes she still may have underestimated. This close, she realizes that his eyes are hazel, a burning maze of greens and flickering gold, that there’s a scar through his eyebrow of the right one. This close, she realizes he smells of pine and leather and that sweet scent that twists on the breeze right before it snows.

This close, she realizes he is unfairly attractive, and she just might hate him for it.

“Did you really think that line was going to work?” Nesta asks dryly.

“Can you blame me for trying? A woman as beautiful as you, I had to shoot my shot.”

Nesta raises an eyebrow, settling the drummer with a look cold enough to send any man scampering back to his table. “Compliments will get you nowhere.”

In a surprising twist, rather than cut his losses, the drummer throws his head back and laughs, the sound deep and warm. It seems to come straight from within his chest, seems to curl around Nesta’s limbs. When he meets Nesta’s gaze again, there’s a fire blazing in his eyes, a challenge, and his smirk has morphed into one of pure amusement. The reaction sparks the embers in Nesta’s own chest, but she’s quick to douse them, quick to keep her face perfectly cool and neutral.

“So it’s a no for pickup lines. A no for compliments,” the drummer notes, daring to lean in closer into Nesta’s space until she gets a lungful of pine and a crackling fire. “How about bribery then, sweetheart? Can I buy you a drink? Your choice.”

“And what if I order the most expensive drink I can get? Top shelf.”

The drummer hums as though he’s actually considering it. “Alright. But you have to chat with me until you finish the drink.”

“Deal.”

The drummer holds his hand out expectantly, and Nesta has to blink a few times at just how large his hand is. But she refuses to be fazed. Raising her chin, she slides her hand into his. His calluses slide against her palm, fingers curling around almost her entire hand and threatening to send a shiver skittering up her spine. His touch is surprisingly warm, his entire body and presence seeming to resonate heat.

Before the handshake can last too long, Nesta yanks her hand away again. She turns on her heel and strides toward the bar, heavy footfalls behind her and the gaze burning into her back informing her that the drummer is following. She leans against the dark wood of the bar top, quickly grabbing the bartender’s attention with a simple raise of her hand.

“Can I get a shot of your best, most expensive vodka? On his tab,” Nesta requests, gesturing with her head to where the drummer now leans against the bar beside her.

The drummer laughs again, an easy chuckle. “Now that’s just cheating.”

Nesta turns toward him properly, finally giving in to the smirk she’d been biting back. “Guess you better talk fast.”

“How about we start with names? I’m Cassian, and you are…?”

The bartender returns at that exact moment, setting the small shot glass full of clear liquid down in front of Nesta. She swipes it up and tosses it back. The vodka is smooth, but it still burns on the way down, mixing and coaxing the burn of satisfaction low in her gut. Slamming the now empty shot glass back on the bar top, Nesta spins around toward the door.

“Time’s up. Better luck next time.”

She keeps her chin raised high, keeps that smirk firmly in place. She revels in the prickle across her skin at that gaze she can still feel pinned to her, and if she sways her hips a bit more than she normally would, well, no one but her has to know.

~ * * * ~

When Nesta checks her phone while enjoying her morning coffee, she’s surprised to find a new follower and a new DM request on her Instagram. She clicks on the account and almost rolls her eyes at the hazel eyed, curly haired man smirking back at her in the profile photo. He’s certainly dedicated, she’ll have to give him that. She knows that she should ignore him, maybe even block him, but curiosity has her clicking back over to the DM.

@BatBoyCass Hello, Nes 😏

@LadyNesta Stalking me on Instagram? Really?

Nesta’s surprise only grows when almost instantly the three small dots appear at the bottom of the screen, indicating that Cassian is typing. Was he waiting by his phone for her response? Didn’t he have band practice or something? According to Elain, the tour was moving on to a new city today, much to her younger sister’s apparent disappointment.

@BatBoyCass Actually, your sister gave me your handle. She refused to give me your number and decided this was safer. Quite protective. Rhys was into it But that’s not important. How’s your morning going, Nes?

@LadyNesta It’s Nesta. Not Nes

@BatBoyCass Guess you should’ve stuck around last night. Could have told me that yourself. It’s too late now. Nes 😜

@LadyNesta Is this your next tactic? Bribery didn’t work so now you just plan to annoy me?

@BatBoyCass Actually, my next tactic is this

Nesta frowns down at her phone screen, at the message, but then a moment later, a photo comes through in the chat. It’s a mirror selfie, but Nesta can’t tell where it was taken from the background. Although, it’s hard to focus on anything other than the large body taking up the frame. Cassian is shirtless, black fabric draped over his shoulder presumably the remnants of his shirt.

Nesta can do nothing but stare at the hard cut of his jaw where his head is tilted to look at the phone in his hand. At each swirl and loop of black ink across the golden brown skin of his chest and arms. At every hard line of muscle that makes up his stomach. At the waistband of what looks like gray sweatpants hanging low enough that his v lines are on full display.

The whole sight is enough for Nesta’s mouth to go dry, for heat to creep up her neck and spill across her cheeks. Before she even realizes, her bottom lip has found home between her teeth, eyes tracing over the photo again and again. What would it feel like, getting her hands on that body, feeling each hard line and curve beneath her fingers? What would it feel like to have his hands on her? She still remembers just how large they were compared to her own.

“Fuck,” Nesta whispers to herself, mentally chastising herself and shaking her head of any of those sorts of thoughts. Instead, her fingers tap across the screen of her phone.

@LadyNesta What’s next? A dick pic?

@BatBoyCass That goes against Instagram’s guidelines. You’ll have to give me your actual number for that Or I’d be more than happy to give you a show in person😏

@LadyNesta You’re not even in Velaris anymore

@BatBoyCass Did you look up our tour, Nes? I’m touched 🥹

Nesta scoffs and rolls her eyes, setting her phone face down on the table. She goes back to finishing her coffee, but she barely lasts a minute before she’s swiping her phone back up. She refuses to let him have the last word, refuses to let him continue to believe she would ever look up his tour dates.

@LadyNesta You wish. My sister mentioned it

@BatBoyCass Don’t worry. There’s only a few weeks left of the tour. Then, I’ll be back in Velaris. Maybe we can get dinner then?

@LadyNesta Pass

@BatBoyCass How about another bargain? You have to send me a message every day, just one. Unless my irresistible charm has you wanting to send more 😉 But one message, that’s the deal. Maybe a fun fact about yourself? One every day until I’m back in Velaris. And then if you still don’t want to get dinner with me, then I’ll leave you alone

@LadyNesta Fine. Here’s my first “fun fact” about me. I’m incredibly stubborn and I hate not winning. So hope you’re prepared for the crushing disappointment of rejection

With a satisfied hum, Nesta sets her phone down for good. The man clearly needs to learn how to phrase his bargains better. One message a day. Easy. It will be the easiest thing Nesta has ever done. And in a few weeks time, this stupid drummer with his stupid chiseled body and his stupid easy smile and warm laugh and pretty hazel eyes will be out of her life for good.

But when Nesta finally dares to check her phone later that night, she finds a new message from Cassian waiting for her. He’s shared an Instagram Reel with her, and when Nesta clicks it, Jake Johnson’s voice blares from her speakers, ‘Stop being so mean to me or I swear to God I’m going to fall in love with you,’ and there, in the quiet and dark in her bedroom, where no one else can see her, Nesta laughs.

~ * * * ~

Nesta wakes to another photo in her Instagram DMs, but this time, Cassian is nowhere to be seen in it. Instead, the photo is of a beach. The waves crashing against the sandy shore look almost silver, the silhouettes of birds flying just above. The horizon is a line of purple that gives way to pinks and yellows before fading into the deep blue of night still clinging to the top of the frame.

Sunrise. It’s the beach right before the sun rises, Nesta realizes. She finds herself wondering what he was doing awake so early, almost going so far as to type out that very question and ask before she catches herself. She holds down the backspace, focusing on Cassian’s message below the photo instead.

@BatBoyCass Good morning, Nes! We’re in sunny Adriata today. I bet you’d look gorgeous in a bikini 😍 Definitely wish you were here. I could rub sunscreen on your shoulders. You could rub sunscreen onto mine. Sounds like a dream…

@LadyNesta Sounds more like a nightmare

Nesta continues with the rest of her morning, getting ready and heading to one of her favorite brunch spots in town to meet with Emerie and Gwyn. It isn’t until she’s settled at the table, thanking the waitress who sets down three waters while she waits, that Nesta finally looks at her phone again.

@BatBoyCass Not a fan of the beach, sweetheart?

@LadyNesta Oh, I love the beach, but I much prefer a cold drink and a good book on the beach rather than obnoxious drummers

@BatBoyCass You like to read? What kind of books do you like?

Instinctively, Nesta starts to type out a response, always more than happy to talk about her love of books, about her current read, but then she remembers their bargain. And she’s already shared her ‘fun fact’ about herself for the day, already met her quota, and she still refuses to lose. She quickly deletes the message she had typed out, but Cassian must be watching for her reply, must have seen the three dots to show that she was typing appear and then disappear.

@BatBoyCass That’s alright. We can save that question for tomorrow. I’ve always preferred historical fiction. I actually just finished reading Hatfield 1677 while on tour and really enjoyed it I think if the band didn’t work out, I’d end up a history teacher. I’d be good at being a history teacher. Maybe in another life

@LadyNesta Another life? I didn’t take you as the type of person to believe in that sort of thing.

@BatBoyCass I hope I meet you in every life

“Who has you smiling and blushing at your phone?”

Nesta snaps her head up to find Emerie now standing at their table, her brown eyes alight with amusement and a small smirk tugging up her lips. She scowls fondly at her friend, setting her phone face down on the table and willing the heat prickling her cheeks to dissipate.

“No one.”

~ * * * ~

@LadyNesta Do you ever get nervous up on stage?

Loathe as she is to admit it, over the last couple of weeks, Nesta has come to enjoy her messages with Cassian. There’s something easy about it, about their back and forth. Something about the way her teasing and jabs only leave him laughing, the way he gives back as good as he gets. Something about the way he genuinely cares about what she has to say, about her ‘fun facts.’ Something about how he doesn’t balk when she dares to share a deeper piece of herself.

It’s surprisingly comfortable, as though she’s known Cassian much longer than she actually has. As though she’s known him her whole life, as though her very soul somehow recognizes him. As though there’s music entwining them like golden threads.

@BatBoyCass Actually, I love it. It’s exhilarating being up there. I can feel the music all the way down to my bones. And to hear a crowd sing back a song you wrote? There’s nothing like it

@LadyNesta You write songs?

@BatBoyCass That’s right, Nes. I’m more than just a pretty face 😎 I even started writing a new song just yesterday

@LadyNesta Let me guess. You’re going to play it for me?

@BatBoyCass Not until it’s finished. I still need that last bit of inspiration Hoping to find it tomorrow 👀

@LadyNesta What’s tomorrow?

Nesta stares at the screen of her phone, waiting. She watches the three dots appear and then disappear. They appear and then they disappear again. It has Nesta tilting her head curiously, eyebrows dipping in confusion. She knows that she hasn’t known Cassian particularly long, but this certainly doesn’t seem like him. He’s usually so quick to respond to her messages, so quick to turn on the teasing and the charm without a second thought. What could it mean that he’s typing and retyping his answer? Is he… nervous?

@BatBoyCass Tonight’s the last show of our tour. In Scythia. I’ll be back in Velaris by tomorrow afternoon

Nesta’s heart skips a beat in her chest. This is it, the moment of truth, the end of their bargain. She could tell him that she’s still not interested, and that will be the end of their interactions. She’ll never receive another message from Cassian. She could tell him that his charm and his kind heart and good looks has had no effect on her.

But she’d be lying to him just as much as herself.

Only a few weeks, and already Nesta can’t imagine a day without talking to Cassian. Just the very idea has ice bleeding between her ribs and threatening to crystalize in her chest. She wants to see that fire blaze in his hazel eyes and push back to meet it until he’s smirking in amusement. She wants to hear his crazy stories from tour and his teasing innuendos. She wants him to make her laugh. And if she’s really being honest with herself, she wants to see and feel that body and those hands outside of a mere photo.

@LadyNesta 7pm. Don’t be late

~ * * * ~

The knock on her front door sounds through the apartment just as Nesta is finishing up the last touch ups to her makeup. She glances toward the clock, the red digital numbers declaring the time to be 6:58. Punctual. One last look over herself in the mirror, and Nesta steps out of her bedroom.

When she pulls open the front door, Cassian is standing on the other side. His hair is scraped back away from his face, piled into a bun at the back of his head, and a comfortably worn leather jacket hangs on his frame. His hazel eyes in person spark that same way Nesta remembers, a slow smirk tugging up his lips as he leans casually against the door frame.

“Hello, Nes.” His eyes sweep over her, his jaw slackening. “Mother save me. You look amazing.”

“I thought we already established that compliments will get you nowhere.”

“Can you blame me when you look this beautiful?”

Nesta has to swallow down a blush at his words, at the sincerity burning in his gaze. She rolls her eyes and shoves lightly at Cassian’s chest, enough to get him to move back so she can step out of her apartment.

“Are we going to dinner or not?”

“Of course,” Cassian confirms, holding his hand out until Nesta threads her fingers through his own larger ones. “I got us a reservation at Carmichael’s.”

Nesta’s steps stutter for a moment and she peers up at Cassian in surprise. “Carmichael’s? Don’t you need to make reservations weeks in advance there?”

“Oh, you do. I made the reservation as soon as we agreed on our bargain.”

Nesta comes fully to a stop at that. She blinks a few times, trying to wrap her mind around this new information, and she can’t help it. She laughs. Cassian’s eyes light up at the sound, the gold flecks within the hazel practically glinting beneath the lights of the hallway. His smirk morphs into a wide, genuine smile, and the sight is enough to leave Nesta feeling breathless.

“Feeling confident, were you?” Nesta teases, trying and failing to fight back her own grin.

“I’m confident about plenty of things, sweetheart,” Cassian tells her, stepping closer into her space. He uses his free hand to twist one of the strands of Nesta’s hair framing her face, the tips of his fingers skimming along her temple.

“Is that so? And what else are you confident about?”

“That I’m going to marry you one day.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata

[midnight--sadness]

thanos impulsively purchased a ticket to kendrick lamar concert in the united states. he doesn't know how to get there... he lives in korea. he also doesn't know how to break this down to inho (he used his card). so the plan? buy two more tickets. one for inho and for gihun. like oh no! i accidentally bought three, it was a mistake sigh there are no refunds so it can't be helped! 😔 now you two must go with me we can see kendrick hyung sunbaenim together 🤪🫰🏻

KENDRICK HYUNG SUNBAENIM 😭😭😭😭😭😭

thanos spends the entire plane ride explaining the kendrick and drake feud, complete with visuals aids and an entire timeline.

gihun and inho are shocked that he is so focused on this when he can't seem to concentrate when it comes to school work but they aren't complaining. in fact, gihun is entertained and keeps interrupting thanos and asking questions, which drags the explanation even longer and makes inho want to jump off the plane.

he shows them those videos of kendrick doing aegyo too 😭😭😭

[kaiserthread]

airbuds

what are the haikyuu boys listening to? characters: miya twins, suna, sakusa, bokuto, hinata content: set in timeskip hi its been a while! pls take this humble offering while i try to get it together

MIYA OSAMU

defo listens to indie pop/jazz, think laufey, clairo, beabadoobee, UMI, the marias, etc.

running his own business proved to be v stressful so he finds his peace through music

usually has music on when he opens and closes the restaurant and uses that time to decompress and listen to any new releases 

MIYA ATSUMU

electronic and upbeat pop music! he was jamming out to HOT TO GO! before it was popular thank you very much

charli xcx, beyoncé, kesha, katy perry, lady gaga, you know the vibes 

is a survivor of the renaissance tour ticketing fiasco 

i hc him as pretty social media savvy so he’s always on the lookout for a trend and had himself a brat summer 

SUNA RINTAROU

an r&b album hates to see him coming

bryson tiller, partynextdoor, sza, summer walker, drake, he’s overplaying it to hell

his music taste aligns more w osamu so he’s constantly sending him song recs 

he's always in his feelings at the gym, he’s next to the weight rack about to cry, komori’s asking what’s wrong w him and he’s just listening to his playlist 

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

“i listen to everything” headass

he has no playlists and just shuffles his liked songs, doesn’t understand why people think he’s crazy

atsumu let him on the aux once and never again after hearing newjeans transition to playboi carti

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

hinata put him on to reggaeton and brazilian phonk and he hasn’t listened to anything else since that day

always trying to learn the dances he sees on tiktok and doing them during practice, coach foster is not impressed 

had a TIME at the rio olympics i just know it

HINATA SHOYO

kpop and jpop idol music

wanted a way to relate to his little sister and it ended up sticking

those brothers that bring their sister to concerts so it looks like they’re just tagging along but the sister is the one who’s getting dragged along by their superfan brother, yeah that’s them

[you-need-not-apply]

What are you favourite artists really getting paid?

A comparison of streaming platforms

Music plays an incredible part in shaping our society. From protest songs, educational rhymes, folk, classical, rock, techno, indie and disco music, it shapes our world view in a unique and powerful way. The way of listening to music has changed dramatically over the last one hundred and fifty years, from live bands on corners, to the invention of the radio, record players, CD’s, tapes, electronic music and now live streaming.

However, in a world where everything is about profit and popularity, the competition between streaming services is stiff. The pay ranges from awful to poor and as the algorithm evolves to recommend new artists to you, who is really making the most money?

The obvious answer is the streaming platform itself. Spotify wracked in a $18.68 billion (AUD) revenue in 2022 alone. Although Spotify don’t post their net profit, they did report a $391.2 (AUD) million loss in 2022, assuming this loss came from their initial revenue, Spotify should, theoretically, have made a staggering $18.28 billion dollar profit.

This leads us to the artists themselves, with such a large amount of profit and roughly 11 million artists on Spotify, we can only assume that split evenly and leaving a $2 billion (AUD)  dollar profit for Spotify themselves that each artist would be paid an average of $1480 AUD per year.

This is not the case. Spotify pays around $0.003 - $0.005 USD per stream, a pitiful amount. In fact, per 100,000 streams on Spotify an artist can only hope to gain around $300 - $500 USD. On top of this already insanely low number, Spotify practices a 70/30 model with an average of 70% of profit going to the artists themselves, while they take an additional 30%. This leaves us with around $210 - $350 USD profit.  The remaining royalties are then divided between the songwriters, publishers, and owners of the master recording. This could include the artist themselves, but it could also be the label they're signed to, leaving an even smaller profit for the artists themselves.

One of the most popular artists in the world, Taylor Swift, makes around $0.0043 USD per stream on her music. The highest paid artist, Drake, makes around $0.0049 USD per stream on his music. To be considered for having a ‘good number of streams’, an artist needs around 10,000 to 50,000 monthly listeners, however only 213,000 artists have hit this threshold out of the initial 11 million we discussed earlier.

In conclusion, Spotify is a scam. Buy physical items, such as CDs, records, merch, concert tickets etc, to truly support your favourite artist. And for god’s sake, don’t use Spotify

[thedrakebellsupportteam]

GET YOUR TICKETS HERE Drake Bell, along with Josh Peck, will be making their first-ever joint appearance at The Nostalgia Con in Anaheim, California. The event will be held from June 6th to 8th, 2025. Drake Bell has also been performing at various locations, including Easy Donuts, Coffee & Cocktails in Las Vegas. The Nostalgia Con will feature a "Drake and Josh reunion" and is promising more surprises. The Nostalgia Con Official Afterparty and Concert Event  -This is a separate event and requires a ticket for entry -Concert attendees not required to have attended the convention  -Doors open at 7:00PM with live performances starting at 7:30PM -Drake Bell headlines a diverse lineup which will feature his new album

[bleach-your-panties]

💙🩵16. entertain + swimming pool with armin arlert💙🩵

💙black/poc!fem!reader. modern!au

🩵part of my 28th birthday event.

💙requested by @rheawolf, another long-time supporter of mine! thank you, love! 

🩵featuring @ ejthedon from @chrollohearttags rapper/influencer au. thanks again, love, for letting me use him! 

💙nsfw 18+. mdni!⚠️

💿: humble - kendrick lamar

💿: swimming pools - kendrick lamar

**all music and artists' likenesses belong to them!**

🤍2.6 k words

—-----

See, Armin is very good at hiding details when it comes to surprising you with gifts and dates. 

For your birthday this year, he went all out with getting the two of you front-row tickets to the three-day music festival that Drake and 21 Savage are headlining. Kendrick Lamar will be there on the last night, also, and you're so fucking pumped to see him live. 

As you sit in the beauty salon getting your hair, nails, toes, and eyebrows done (all courtesy of Armin, of course), you excitedly texted your best friend to tell her about your plans for the next couple of days. 

bestie boo🫦🤎:  girl, you're so lucky. i wish  my man was thoughtful like armin. 

you: mhm. he's really the best. 💗

Once you were finished, you texted Armin to pick you up. It didn't take him long to pull up in his ocean-blue BMW. 

"Baby!" You ran and hopped on him. He hugged you to him, pulling your legs around his waist to secure you.

"Hey, dove. Be careful, you don't want to mess up your beautiful nails, do you?"

(Just picture your Zodiac sign)

Sighing softly, you knew he was right. Still, you nuzzled your face into his neck, inhaling his Armani cologne.

"Just happy to see you, that's all…" 

He smiled and rubbed your back. 

"I know, baby. I'm happy to see you, too. Come on, I've got a surprise for you in the car." 

Armin carried you over to the passenger seat and opened the door. You gasped once you saw what was laid out on the seat.

"Armie!" You cried as he let you down back onto your feet. He just chuckled and watched you scoop the bills up neatly to put them inside your wallet.

"What am I supposed to do with all this?" You asked rhetorically, knowing that he wasn't going to take it back by any means.

He shrugged. "Buy yourself something nice and put the rest in your savings. I don't know, baby, do what you want with it. It's yours." 

Tears pooled in your eyes. Armin's so good to you. Sometimes you wondered what you'd done to deserve someone like him.

"Thank you so much, Armie. You always make my birthdays so special." Sniffling and wiping under your eye, you were careful not to mess up your lashes.

"Aww, you're welcome, dove. Anything for you, and you deserve so much more. Let's go, so you can start getting dressed for the concert." 

Nodding happily, you picked up your bouquet of roses and set them in your lap so you could sit down. 

—

The first two nights of the concert were amazing, but it felt like they passed by way too quickly. 

Drake and 21 Savage were phenomenal, as well as the other artists that were featured. Armin and you were turnt up all night long; drinking, dancing, just having yourselves a grand ole time. 

Now you're sitting in your hotel suite getting ready to go see Kendrick. Seeing him perform and then spending the rest of the night with Armin will be the perfect ending to your birthday weekend. 

"Baby, what do you think of my outfit?" 

You did a little spin in the mirror as Armin raised one blonde eyebrow.

"I love it baby, but-"

"I know, I know what you're going to say, but it has shorts underneath it, daddy~"

This caused a little smirk to cover his lips.

"Oh really? Come here and let me feel then.."

You just giggled and playfully swatted his hand away, but Armin grabbed your wrist and pulled you on top of him as he reclined back on the bed.

"You won't have to worry about any creeps trying to cop a feel or anything."

Armin rolled his eyes. 

"I won't have to worry about that anyway, baby. Nobody has any fucking business putting their hands underneath your skirt unless they want to get knocked the fuck out."

He moved his head up to kiss your lips passionately, moving his hand down like he planned in order to feel underneath your skirt.

"Nobody but me…" 

Your eyes closed involuntarily as Armin's fingers traced up your plush ass cheek, stopping to squeeze the soft flesh.

"Mmm, babe…if we don't hurry and leave we're going to be late…" You moaned softly when he began pecking your neck with quick, wet kisses.

Chuckling to himself, his cerulean eyes gazed up into your brown ones before scanning over the rest of your face. You know that look.

He's turned on.

"Armie~" 

He laughed harder at you for moving off of him and attempting to tug him up off the bed.

"Okay baby, I'm coming. I wouldn't make you miss your big night."

"Yay! I love you! Come on, the Uber is probably already downstairs!" 

"Alright, dove. Lead the way…shit." 

Armin was going to have a time walking with this hard-on, and you walking in front of him in that tiny ass skirt wasn't helping whatsoever.

—

(A/N: Bold italics is Kendrick rapping. Regular italics is Armin rapping.)

"How y'all doing tonight?" 

The crowd roared as Kendrick came out on stage.

"I SAID HOW THE FUCK ARE Y'ALL DOING TONIGHT?!" 

You screamed at the top of your lungs, Armin right along with you. 

"That's more like it! Come on, everybody stand up!"

His first song was DNA, which never failed to get you hype.

Followed by Complexion, m.A.A.d city; Bitch, Don't Kill My Vibe, Alright, LOVE, Loyalty, and Poetic Justice.

It all seemed to zoom by as you and Armin danced and sang along to every song.

"Alright, alright. I'm getting ready to close the night off, but let's turn it up one more motherfucking time!" 

Kendrick hollered and the crowd responded in kind.

"Nobody pray for me, it been that day for me, way, yeah yeah!"

You and Armin, much like the rest of the crowd were jumping up and down like maniacs as you belted out the song lyrics. 

Kendrick began moving around the stage as he rapped, coming close enough for you to brush your hand against his pants legs.

You pulled your hand back and stared at it as if it were made of gold.

"I'm never going to wash this hand again." 

Armin just snorted, thinking of how much more impressed you were about to be.

"Ayy, I remember syrup sandwiches and crime allowances. Finesse a nigga with some counterfeits, but now I'm countin' this-

-Parmesan where my accountant lives; in fact, I'm downin' this, D'USSÉ with my boo bae tastes like Kool-Aid for the analysts."

While Kendrick continued on, Armin turned you to face him. You looked up, as his six foot frame easily towered over you.

"Girl, I can buy yo' ass the world with my pay stub. Ooo, that pussy good, won't you sit it on my taste buds?"  

Warmth flooded your cheeks and made your neck itch as Armin rapped to you. He licked his lips and kept his eyes trained on your face. 

"MY LEFT STROKE JUST WENT VIRAL!" Rang out around you, but you were still trapped in Armin's azure gaze.

"Right stroke put lil baby in a spiral." 

He grabbed your hand and twirled you around, making you giggle.

"It's levels to it, you and I know. Bitch be humble, sit down. Be humble, sit down. Be humble, bitch, sit down. Be humble, sit down." 

"Who dat nigga thinkin' that he frontin' on Man Man? Get the fuck off my stage, I'm the Sandman. Get the fuck off my dick, that ain't right. I make a play fucking up your whole life." 

"I'm so fucking sick and tired of the Photoshop. Show me something natural like afro on Richard Pryor. Show me something natural like ass with some stretch marks." 

Armin was really feeling himself as he rapped to you with his natural poise and charisma. 

He was looking so handsome in only a simple, black U-neck tee, gold chain, and diamond studs glimmering in each ear. Light-wash ripped jeans adorned his long, lean legs, ending in a simple black pair of low Air Forces.

You were starting to forget all about Kendrick with Armin looking at you the way he was and snaking that sneaky hand back around your waist to rest just above your ass.

When the song ended, Armin kissed your temple and turned you back to face the stage just as Kendrick began to speak.

"So, I've been told that we have a birthday in the house tonight. A Miss Y/n L/n?"  

Your pupils immediately grew two sizes and you tried to turn to look at Armin, but he kept you still and faced forward by gripping your biceps. 

"Speak up, baby. So everyone can hear you.." Armin whispered into your ear as Kendrick knelt on one knee to extend the microphone out to you. 

"T-that's me…I'm Y-Y/n…" You spoke timidly into the microphone. That made Kendrick smile. 

"I'm glad you came out to see me tonight, Miss Y/n. I think my good friend will also be glad that you came." 

His good friend? What was going on here? 

Nothing else needed to be explained as EJ walked out with a microphone. He dapped Kendrick up while you just started screaming like a maniac. 

Both of the men on the stage laughed as they watched you turn and throw your arms around Armin's neck and kiss all over his face. 

"Why didn't you tell me that we were seeing EJ, too?!" He laughed when you began playfully hitting his chest. 

"If I told you, it wouldn't have been a surprise!" 

Armin helped you up onto the stage when EJ motioned for you. 

"Alright, let's continue this birthday party then! Do you have anything that you want to say, baby girl?" He held the microphone out to you. 

"I…I just love you…" 

EJ chuckled. 

"I love you too, sweetheart. Happy birthday and thank you for being a devoted fan. Let's go!" 

EJ kept you on stage with him the entire time as he performed all of your favorite songs. Armin even came up and the three of you danced, rapped, and sang together. 

After the concert, you and Armin went backstage with EJ and had drinks with him, Kendrick, and the other artists that had been a part of the festival. 

After the meet-and-greet, you were sent home with a gift basket full of autographed memorabilia. 

—-

"I had such a great time tonight, Armie."

You sighed in content as you sank down into the warm, bubbly water of the indoor hot tub.

Armin reclined next to you, wet hair stuck to his forehead in dripping strands. He looked so damn good like this, and after all he'd done for you tonight, your folds were slick with your desire for him.

"Yeah, baby? I'm glad you did, sweet girl." 

He grabbed your waist and pulled you on top of him, sitting you right on top of his hard dick.

You wrapped your arms around his neck just as he sat up to press his lips against yours. 

Armin gently held your neck while his tongue rubbed against yours. He sucked on your bottom lip, top lip, and each corner of your mouth.

"Mmm…babe.." 

"Mhmm…shit, girl." He grabbed a handful of your ass and smacked it hard. Your fingers moved to his neck to play with his chain while your wet breasts squished against his hard chest.

—

i think that I’m feeling the vibe

i see the love in her eyes 

i see the feeling the freedom is granted 

as soon as the damage of vodka arrived

this how you capitalize, this is parental-advised

and apparently, i'm over-influenced

by what you are doin'

i thought i was doin' the most 

til someone said to me

—

"Baby?" You asked innocently, still twirling his chain in your fingers while you stared into his deep ocean-blue eyes.

"Yes, my love?" 

You moved your hand from his neck to trail it down his side and over his stomach. His dick twitched underneath you, making you grin. 

"Why aren't you inside of me yet?"

Armin's eyes widened for a brief second before they became slanted, a devilish grin splitting his soft, pink lips apart, showcasing perfect, white teeth.

His hand on your ass began moving your bikini bottoms to the side. You watched him suck on the opposite hand's thumb and move it down to your top, pushing the triangle-shaped fabric to the side so he could rub his spit over your nipple and make it harden in the cool air conditioning surrounding you.

"Take it, daddy. It's yours." 

Armin cussed under his breath, moving his eyes back and forth between your beautiful face and hard nipples.

"Shit, baby girl. Don't have to tell me twice." He smirked at your use of his words from earlier and sank you down on his cock with one push of his hand on your ass.

—-

nigga, why you babysittin' only,

two or three shots?

imma show you how 

to turn it up a notch

first you get a swimming pool 

full of liquor, then you dive in it

pool full of liquor, then you dive in it

—-

Armin bounced you sloppily on his dick, making the water slosh around every which way in the hot tub.

His movements were usually more precise, making sure that he angled his dick just right to hit your G-spot, but right now he was drunk as fuck and just trying to fuck into you hard and fast enough to make you both cum.

“Armie! I’m close!” You whined, holding onto his neck with your legs wrapped tightly around his thighs.

“Oh yeah, I am too, dove…s-shit. Hold onto me, tight.” 

You were about to ask why, but Armin stood to his full height and pulled your legs around his hips. 

“Armin! I’m going to fall!” You panicked/moaned as he bounced you on him harder and harder. If someone were to walk in right now, they’d get quite the eyeful.

“Hush, I wouldn’t let you fucking fall. Drunk or not.” He smushed his face into your neck and inhaled your sweet scent before biting down on your neck. With one last hard thrust, Armin came inside of you. 

It was so much that it began to leak out and down your thighs, but he moved to sit down on the steps leading out of the tub so it wouldn’t drip into the water.

“Forever the gentlemen…” You panted, pressing your cheek against his while you rode out your orgasm.

“Always for you, my love. Happy birthday.” He smiled and kissed your lips, holding you close to him.

—-

i wave a few bottles then I watch em’ all flock

all the girls wanna play baywatch

i got a swimming pool full of liquor

and they dive in it

pool full of liquor, imma dive in it

[formulakracing]

If GG was invested in watching Kendrick Lamar publicly executing Drake, she might have found a way to sneak off and exclaim to Toto. Maybe they have burner phones for the paddock so that their call logs don't show anything suspicious and she's calling between practices in her driver's room like, "Drake got outed as a deadbeat dad in a diss track! Again!" Sorry this is dumb.

NO IT’S NOT! NEVER APOLGIZE—

cause i just know gg spills all of the pop culture tea and the hot gossip to toto. and he’s just like.. “who is kendrick again? i vaguely recall who this drake is. he’s canadian.. isn’t he? did that one song with that twenty-two savage fellow—“

“twenty-one savage, baby.. but oh right! speaking of that! twenty-one has yet to take a side!”

he just happily listens to it all, giggling and kicking his feet because he just loves hearing your voice and how passionate you get about these things. big or small, he listens. not because he has to but because he wants to.

additionally, he offers to buy you tickets to the kendrick concert 🤭

[drzephyr]

Imagine Taemin at Hybe. Concerts in the US but tickets cost 800$ so the attendance is 20% of venue. He gets veneers. 19 minute full album with a Thriller cover as the tt with a Drake feature..

[brandstifter-sys]

Webs We Weave

@dukexietyweek 2024 Day 6 - Rockstars + Stuffed Animals

Word Count: 3016 (Ao3)

Rating: T

Characters: Virgil, Remus, Patton, Remy, Andy, Dragon Witch (Millie)

Pairings: Dukexiety, Remdy (Shorts Sleepxiety)

Warnings: ftm!remus, hitch hiking, anxiety, mild threats, sex mention

Remus is an avid fan of Webs We Weave, and his internet crush just so happened to give him to tickets to every show on their latest tour. Naturally, this disaster fanboy is going to make it to all those shows without questioning his friend's connections, even if he has to hitchhike to get there! But hitchhiking can have unexpected consequences!

---

Remus was not just an average fanboy. He was obsessed with his favorite band, their music and seeing them perform. Every show was amazing and he craved the rush of the crowd. So what if he was following the band on tour by any means necessary? He wasn't stalking them, just chasing the sound and the thrill. 

His own brother couldn't stop him when he got tickets to every show, not even asking how he afforded them. They were gifts from a friend from Tumblr, and crush if he were being honest. And they were legit! He swore he would bend over any way xxelectric-spider-rainxx wanted him to!

After three nights of musical ecstasy, Remus was perched in a big rig truck, headed for the next city on his list. The driver, a bespectacled man with a heart of gold, was kind enough to offer him a meal on the drive. 

“So, kiddo, you said you were going to meet your friend and go to a concert, what group is worth the risk?” the driver, Patton asked, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“Have you heard of Webs We Weave?” Remus asked and took a sip of his slushie. He could go on about them if he wanted, from Millie Drake's fire vocals, to Remy Traum’s bass riffs. But he didn't have to. 

“Have I ever!” Patton laughed, “My son is in that band!” 

“He is?!” Remus gawked. He wasn't digging into their personal lives, but he knew a lot about their back stories, except for Virgil Hawthorne. That beefcake drummer was so mysterious.

“Yuppers!” Patton giggled, “I can't tell you how proud I am of him for making it so far with his friends! He would spend all his free time playing those drums until my ex got a headache!”

“You’re Virgil's dad?” Remus gasped. Now that he thought about it, Patton had a similar smile and build to the drummer, only he was a little bigger in the middle. He could believe it. 

“That’s my boy! He's such a sweet kid, sent me a backstage pass good for every show on this tour! I feel bad I won't be able to make any of them, but he knows how much I support him!” Patton said with a sly grin, “If you want it, it's in the glovebox, right next to his old bunny.” 

“Really?” Remus gasped and set his drink in the cupholder before he made a mess. He opened the glovebox and saw the pass and an old black bunny toy that was well loved, obviously stitched together with white floss. Its eyes were white X's and its left ear was missing fuzz on the tip. 

“Yeah! I'd hate for it to go to waste, and I think he'd like you,” Patton responded, “And if you do take it, can you give him Mr. Fuzzy? He loves that bunny!” 

“You trust me not to keep it?” Remus gawked. 

“Yeah, you don't seem like the crazed type of fan who would. Plus you need to have faith in people.” 

“That’s really idealistic,” Remus said and carefully tucked the pass and bunny into his bag, “But you don't have to worry, I'll get it to him. It's the least I can do for the ride and food!” 

“Thanks Remus,” Patton said and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, “Mind if I put on some dad tunes?” 

“Classic rock?” Remus grinned, “Only if you let me sing along!” 

Patton beamed and turned on the radio. He was happy he decided to pick up this hitchhiker, and happier that he might've found Virgil's newest friend. 

---

“Ugh, you have to stop pacing, Virge!” a young man with shaggy brunette hair groaned from where he lounged on the couch. 

“I can't help it!” Virgil, a large man with even shaggier black and purple hair, snapped. He was chewing his thumbnail and walking the length of the dressing room. The other two band members were getting coffee, leaving the two most anxious messes to wait. 

“You'll run out of energy before we go on. Isn't there something else you can do?” Andy groaned and adjusted his jeans. 

“I left Mr. Fuzzy with my dad and running a lap around the building will drain me faster. What else can I do, Andy?” 

“I don't know—why are you freaking out?” Andy huffed and crossed his arms, hugging his chest for some security. 

“I haven't heard anything from them in days, and their blog is all queued. What if they hate me? What if they're in trouble? What if they're just busy or too excited to go online? What if they show up at this show? I won't be able to recognize them. What if they're a creep? What if I put us all in danger?” Virgil rambled. Andy rolled his eyes. 

“You gave them a ticket to every show. They're bound to show up at some point.” 

“My dad got tickets to every show and he's never shown up,” Virgil argued and ran a hand through his hair. 

“You didn't notice, did you?”

“Notice what?” 

“There's been one person at all of the shows so far in the front row. Your Tumblr buddy is probably taking advantage of those tickets.” 

“Why didn't you tell me sooner?! I've been shirtless on stage every time!” Virgil yelped and lunged at Andy, grabbing him by the shoulders, eyes bugging out of his skull. 

“Dude. We only had three shows, all in the same area. I'm not jumping to conclusions yet,” Andy yelped. Virgil was too strong for his own good. 

Virgil immediately let go of him and shrank back. He knew he was overreacting but he couldn't calm down. He flopped on the couch and groaned. 

“Why do you care so much? Especially about the shirt thing? You don't know what they look like or their pronouns,” Andy huffed, “Don't tell me—you have a crush.” 

Virgil curled into himself and grumbled. He couldn't stop himself from feeling. He was freaking out over a crush like some teenager and he was making a mess of his band. 

It was so stupid. He only knew their username, krakendickenpuss, and that they could handle his bluntness and his rants. They actually liked talking to him about monsters, movies, and music. They were the first person in a long time he could connect with, without his mild game getting in the way. They were lewd and flirty but they never crossed any lines, and they were just so adorable! 

“Oh god, you do,” Andy gasped and got up. He needed some water and a snack and the vending machine was outside. 

“I'll grab a gatorade for you,” Andy said and opened the door. 

“Hi!” 

Andy yelped and jumped back. He was not expecting a little man to be at the door with his fist raised, especially not one he swore he saw at the last couple of shows. Virgil jumped to his feet and got between Andy and the intruder, ready to fight. 

“Oh! Perfect!” the man cheered, “Millie and Remy said you were here!” 

“Who are you and how did you get back here?” Virgil snarled, ready to fight. A good scuffle might have been just the thing he needed to calm his nerves. 

“I'm Remus,” the man said with a shiver. Virgil assumed it was just evidence this guy was intimidated. Remus was enthralled—what could be hotter than a big strong guy getting protective of his friends? A big strong shirtless guy getting protective of his friends! 

“Virge—” Andy muttered, his heart still racing.

“I can handle this,” Virgil said curtly and nudged him towards the couch before his knees gave out. 

“I was looking for you since Venomousse got off the stage! I need to give you something! I promise it's not dangerous!” Remus beamed. He was damn cute, and Virgil hated that. 

“How did you get backstage?” Virgil pressed and loomed over him menacingly. They didn't sell backstage passes, not even for the press. 

“I have a pass!” Remus chirped and held up his lanyard with the pass. 

“Where did you get that?” Virgil snapped and grabbed him by the shirt, lifting poor, aroused Remus off the ground. 

“Your dad gave it to me! He's a really nice guy! He gave me a ride and I didn't even have to offer any suckies!” Remus said without an inkling of fear. He would have killed to get socked in the jaw by his favorite drummer! He would kill for this man to do so much more than that!

“What?!” 

“I know! He's a good guy! He asked me to give you something!” Remus said, “So can you put me down? You're stretching my binder.” 

“If you hurt him, I swear I'll—” 

“Call him. He should be fine,” Remus cut him off, “My binder won't be if you keep holding me like this. I don't have another one with me! Unless you want to see these lumps—all you have to do is say so!” 

Virgil immediately dragged him into the dressing room and dropped him on the couch by Andy. Remus landed with a thud and scrambled to get his gym bag off his back. 

Andy watched him dig through his bag when Virgil called his dad. He was pacing again and biting his thumb. 

“Heya kiddo!” Andy could hear Patton greeting his son, “Sorry I couldn't make it tonight! I just crossed into the next state!” 

“Dad, are you okay?” Virgil gasped. 

“I'm not in Oklahoma!” Patton giggled, “But I'm alright. Are you okay? You sound stressed.” 

“Did you pick up a hitchhiker?” Virgil asked and bit his lip. He didn't even notice Remus pulling something out of his bag. 

“I did, but don't worry, I dropped him off and I'm safe. Actually, he was headed to your concert, so I sent him with something to give you since you probably need it,” Patton said brightly, “His name is Remus, he's short and stocky, has a little mustache. I think he was wearing green shorts and a black tank top.” 

“What did you give him?” Virgil demanded, getting even more tense by the second. 

“This!” Remus butted in loudly and held up the stuffed bunny for Virgil to see. 

Virgil’s jaw dropped. There was no way this Remus guy was holding Mr. Fuzzy. 

“Oh it sounds like you found him!” Patton said over the phone. It was hard to miss Remus' voice! 

“I gotta go, Kiddo, break a leg tonight!” Patton said after a beat of silence. 

“Thanks, Dad,” Virgil choked out and hung up the phone. Virgil hung up and stowed his phone almost robotically. 

He stared at Remus for a long moment, trying to make sense of the situation. Andy was uncomfortable with the silence, but Remus seemed to be at ease. 

The tension snapped when Virgil snatched the toy from Remus and held it to his chest.

“Tell anyone about this and you're dead,” Virgil growled and rubbed the bunny’s ear between his fingers. 

“About what? How you're taller and beefier than the photos let on? That you got aggressive enough to make me cream my pants?” Remus jeered and wiggled his shoulders, “Because only one other person will know what happened when I met you! And they won't believe me anyway!” 

“He's having a really anxious moment,” Andy cut in, “He really isn't aggressive. Whoever you plan on telling, mention that part.” 

“Who are you telling?” Virgil asked warily as he finally started calming down. 

“A friend on Tumblr. They gave me the tickets so I want to tell them all about it when I don't have to watch my phone battery!” Remus beamed. 

Virgil's face blanched. 

“Your friend gave you tickets, plural?” Andy asked with a smirk, “So we'll see you at other shows?” 

“Hell yeah! I'll be at every show! I can't believe they could give me so many tickets!” Remus beamed, “So don't get any ideas about calling me a stalker!” 

“Oh god, you plan on hitchhiking to all of them?” Andy gawked and got up. He still needed a snack, and he had to find Remy and Millie. 

“Yup! But I'm a tough puppy! I can handle anyone!” Remus beamed. Virgil stared at him like he was insane. 

“Geez,” Andy sighed, “I'm hitting the vending machine. Do you want anything?” 

“Gatorade or iced tea if they have it,” Remus said and dug into his bag. He could pay for his own drink! 

“It's on me,” Andy cut him off and headed for the door. Once Andy was gone, Virgil’s anxiety started creeping over him again. Virgil was going to kill Andy. 

“So, uh, your friend on Tumblr gave you tickets?” Virgil muttered, not daring to look at Remus. 

“Yeah!! Electric Spider Rain has some crazy connections! When I finally get to meet them I'm totally smooching their breath away! I would've done that even without the tickets,” Remus giggled. 

“Krakendickenpuss?” Virgil asked, praying that he didn't just threaten his crush. 

Remus squealed and pounced, intending to hug him on the floor. He wrapped his arms and legs around the drummer and rubbed his cheek on Virgil's shoulder. 

“I can't believe it's really you!” Remus squealed, “Who would've thought that the person I've been talking to online is actually the sickest drummer in the world!” 

“I can't believe you decided to hitchhike around to get to every show without telling me,” Virgil scoffed incredulously. 

“You would have tried to stop me!” Remus giggled, “And then I would have never gotten to meet you!” 

Virgil set Remus on his feet, only for Remus to hug his waist and nuzzle his chest. Virgil was beet red but gingerly hugged back with one arm. Mr. Fuzzy didn't need to be crushed any further.

“You know I can't let you hitchhike to get to the rest of the shows without worrying,” Virgil said softly. 

“But I don't want to miss the rest of the shows! You guys are my favorite band and you gave me all those tickets!” Remus whined, “And I want to spend time with you in person!” 

“Then join us on the bus,” a woman said as she entered the room. She had a knowing smirk on her ruby lips and long dark hair. She had two guys trailing her, a twink in sunglasses and Andy. 

“Millie, you can't be serious,” Virgil huffed, “What if we get in trouble for kidnapping or worse?” 

“My brother knows I'm hitchhiking so you don't have to worry about that!” Remus pipped up, refusing to let go of Virgil. 

“I'm serious, we talked about it. I would rather have some mild trouble with the law than him getting hurt,” Millie shrugged, “You would've suggested it too.” 

Virgil couldn't blush any harder. Not only was Milie suggesting bringing Remus along, but she and Remy could see Mr. Fuzzy in his arm. There was no way out of this. 

“As long as he doesn't knock you up, it's fine,” Remy added and sipped on his iced coffee. 

“So it's fine,” Virgil muttered, “Since that's impossible.” 

“It's not impossible the other way around!” Remus jeered, “But I'll behave! Even if you're shirtless and sweaty!” To make things worse, he rubbed his face against Virgil's chest. 

“Since that's settled, introductions?” Millie hummed and sat down. Andy dragged Remy away from the dressing room, probably to tell him to keep his mouth shut about the stuffed animal. 

“I'm Remus! Remus Reyes Cuesta!” the little imp beamed and finally let go of Virgil, “And his internet friend!” 

Millie narrowed her eyes at him and studied his face. 

“Is your brother Roman?” 

“Yup! How did you know?” 

“Do you remember Millicent Wieczorek?” she hummed. Remus' face lit up. 

“No way! Is that you? You kicked his ass in middle school! He totally deserved it, so I'm not mad! I was so sad when you had to move away! What are the odds we meet again here?” 

“Yeah, he can ride with us. He's safe. Just like Mr. Fuzzy,” Millie said to Virgil. 

“Uh,” Virgil hesitated. Millie shrugged and grinned at him. 

“I still sleep with Barfolomew the cat dragon. I'm not judging you. Remy might, but his boytoy is grilling him. Actually I should make sure they aren't making out in a closet. You two have fun.” 

With that she got up and left Remus and Virgil alone. Virgil was absolutely mortified. 

“Sit! Sit!” Remus chirped and patted the seat next to him. Virgil reluctantly sat down and let Remus lean on him. 

“Thanks for the tickets and the ride. And for showing me your dark side! It's hot!” 

“Sorry about that, I was out of line,” Virgil wilted and hugged Mr. Fuzzy. Remus pouted and scooted closer. 

“It's okay, Virgil. I'm not hurt, just turned on. Who knew my celebrity crush would be my Internet crush, and who knew he was feral and a sweetheart?” 

“Crush?” 

“Yup! I won't deny it!” Remus giggled, “But don't think that means I'm coming on to you. I can behave! Even if I'm jealous of that bunny!” 

“Why would you be jealous of a toy?” Virgil huffed. He was practically squeezing the life out of it. 

“Because you love it, and more importantly, you're hugging it to those bara tiddies!” Remus jeered. He was pleasantly surprised when Virgil wrapped an arm around him. 

“I-I like you too,” he said shyly, “But let's not rush into anything.” 

“I can work with that!” Remus beamed, “I'm gonna go back out to the pit, and I'll come back here after your set.” 

“You can leave the bag, no one will steal anything,” Virgil said and loosened his hold on his bunny. 

“Really? Thanks Virgil! You're the best!” Remus beamed and kissed his cheek. 

He bopped to his feet and giggled at how Virgil's blush traveled to his shoulders. He waved cheekily and skipped out of the dressing room, letting Virgil follow him with his eyes. 

Virgil touched his cheek where Remus kissed him and smiled like an idiot. 

That night he performed better than ever before. 

[puckandgossip]

Anyways onto more interesting topics...

Have you been to any concerts? I have been to The Weeknd's concert. It was a lot of fun it felt like a party! Hoping to somehow get tickets for either tate mcrae's concert or sabrina carpenter's but they sell out so quickly and the resell price is insane 😵‍💫

Yes thank you please god i’m done talking about those delusional blogs.

I have been! I’ve been to one direction when i was younger (um flex?) i’ve been to justin bieber (also flex?) ariana grande, those when i was younger, i went to Travis scott, Drake, John summit, tate mcrae recently IT WAS SO GOOD

i love concerts and omg?! i wanna go to the weeknd so baddddd. And sabrina carpenter too. girl you gotta go to tate it’s soooo good

[skincareroutine]

so many rappers rn are dissing each other megan n nicki n drake n all the male rappers in the world. i just think the only way to win is to lure their mother to one of your concerts. megan is already in the lead but she should send like a fake winning concert ticket no name on it to nicki minaj's mother. n get her to come to megans concert and bring her out on stage like would put this whole thing to rest forever nicki might kill herself so sad

[iwanthermidnightz]

As Taylor Swift rolled into Los Angeles this week, the frenzy surrounding her record-breaking Eras Tour was already in high gear.

Headlines gushed that she had given $100,000 bonuses to her crew. Politicians asked her to postpone her concerts in solidarity with striking hotel workers. Scalped tickets were going for $3,000 and up. And there were way, way too many friendship bracelets to count.

These days, the center of an otherwise splintered music world can only be Taylor Swift.

The pop superstar’s tour, which is now finishing its initial North American leg with six nights at SoFi Stadium outside Los Angeles, has been a both a business and a cultural juggernaut. Swift’s catalog of generation-defining hits and canny marketing sense have helped her achieve a level of white-hot demand and media saturation not seen since the 1980s heyday of Michael Jackson and Madonna — a dominance that the entertainment business had largely accepted as impossible to replicate in the fragmented 21st century.

“The only thing I can compare it to is the phenomenon of Beatlemania,” said Billy Joel, who attended Swift’s show in Tampa, Fla., with his wife and young daughters.

In a summer of tours by stars like Beyoncé, Bruce Springsteen, Morgan Wallen and Drake, Swift’s stands apart, in numbers and in media noise. Although Swift, 33, and her promoters do not publicly report box-office figures, the trade publication Pollstar estimated that she has been selling about $14 million in tickets each night. By the end of the full world tour, which is booked with 146 stadium dates well into 2024, Swift’s sales could reach $1.4 billion or more — exceeding Elton John’s $939 million for his multiyear farewell tour, the current record-holder.

Swift has now had more No. 1 albums on the Billboard 200 over the course of her career than any other woman, surpassing Barbra Streisand. With the tour lifting Swift’s entire body of work, she has placed 10 albums on that chart this year and is the first living artist since the trumpeter and bandleader Herb Alpert in 1966 to have four titles in the Top 10 at the same time.

“It’s a pretty amazing feat,” Alpert, 88, said in a phone interview. “With the way radio is these days, and the way music is distributed, with streaming, I didn’t think anyone in this era could do it.”

But how did a concert tour become so much more: fodder for gossip columns, the subject of weather reports, a boon for friendship-bracelet beads — the unofficial currency of Swiftie fandom — and the reason nobody could get a hotel room in Cincinnati at the end of June?

“She is the best C.E.O., and best chief marketing officer, in the history of music,” said Nathan Hubbard, a longtime music and ticketing executive who co-hosts a Swift podcast. “She is following people like Bono, Jay-Z and Madonna, who were acutely aware of their brands. But of all of them, Taylor is the first one to be natively online.”

Before Eras, Swift hadn’t been on tour since 2018. And her catalog has grown by seven No. 1 albums since then, fueled in part by three rerecorded “Taylor’s Versions” of her first LPs — a project hailed by Swift’s fans as a crusade to regain control of her music, though it is also an act of revenge after the sale of Swift’s former record label, a move that, she said, “stripped me of my life’s work.”

“Folklore” and “Evermore” expanded her palate into fantastical indie-folk and brought new collaborators into the fold: Aaron Dessner from the band the National and Justin Vernon, a.k.a. Bon Iver, rock-world figures who helped attract new listeners.

The other major tour this year that is enticing fans to book transcontinental flights, and to show up costumed and in rapture, is also by a woman: Beyoncé, 41, whose Renaissance tour is a fantasia of disco and retrofuturism. Like Swift, she is also a trailblazing artist-entrepreneur, maintaining tight control over her career and fostering a rich connection with fans online. Together with Greta Gerwig’s “Barbie,” a critique of the patriarchy told in hot pink, they are signs of powerful women ruling the discourse of pop culture.

But in music, at least, the scale and success of Swift’s tour is without equal. Later this month, after completing 53 shows in the United States, she will kick off an international itinerary of at least 78 more before returning to North America next fall. Beyoncé’s full tour has 56 dates; Springsteen’s, 90. (Recently, Harry Styles wrapped a 173-date tour in arenas and stadiums, grossing about $590 million.)

Outside Arrowhead Stadium in Kansas City, fans posed for selfies and shared their ticketing ordeals. Esmeralda Tinoco and Sami Cytron, 24-year-old former sorority sisters, said they had paid $645 for two seats. A stone’s throw away, Karlee Patrick and Emily DeGruson, both 18 and dressed as a pair in angel/devil costumes after a line in Swift’s “Cruel Summer,” sat “Taylorgating” at the edge of the parking lot; they said they had paid $100 for parking but couldn’t afford tickets.

As Swift’s opening acts finished, the crowd rushed in. Glaser, the comedian, later said that of the eight shows she had been to, her favorites were the ones where she had brought her mother — and converted her to Swiftie fandom.

“Everyone is in love with her,” Glaser said her mom told her after one show in Texas. “Now I get it.”