#music nerd

[eclairemaire]

the sound of music pt. 2

masterlist | playlist | part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

Pairing: Lewis Pullman x Reader Category: Fluff Summary: Stranded in a 24-hour diner in the middle of nowhere, you make an unlikely companion as you bond over the sound of music. Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Swearing, fast-burn??? (idk), No mention of Y/N, Reader is a little slow on the uptake, Self-degrading, saying the Lord's name in vain(for religious people). Notes: This is part 2 of this series. I hope everyone enjoys. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; all characters are just that, characters, and have no ties to their real-life counterparts.

Lewis still had hold of your hand as he pushed out the door of the diner into the pouring rain and toward his truck, completely ignoring your outburst. Once you were both settled in the vehicle, him in the driver's seat and you in the passenger seat, you turned to face him, a grave expression on your face, as you took in his facial features more acutely. He was attractive, but you knew that already, his eyes that dark, stormy blue. After staring at his face for so long, he started to flush and look sheepish, and that's when you started to recognise him for seemingly the first time since you met him earlier in the day. 

Lewis watched as astonishment and realisation started to fill your expression, until you were openly gaping at him. “Holy shit,” it was a whisper, hardly sounded like you meant to say it at all and then louder “Holy shit, sweet baby jesus…” Your swearing continued for a solid two minutes, your head was in your hands as your elbows rested on your knees, and you looked like you were contemplating your whole existence. 

Lewis was very amused, watching you have a slight existential crisis in the passenger seat of his Tacoma. After a minute of watching you contemplate, he put his key in the ignition and started the car, before putting in an address into the navigation. “Buckle up,” he muttered as he started to put on his seatbelt.

The rumble of the engine and his speaking seemed to break you out of your downward spiral. “Oh my fucking lord, I’m living every sixteen year olds dream right now,” your voice was a murmur as you went through the motions of buckling up and plugging in your phone to charge. “It makes so much sense why that waitress was flirting with you.” He laughed, the one where he sounded like he was in pain, as he started to reverse out of his parking spot before turning onto the road.

“Thank you, by the way, for asking me what song you should turn on. Saved me the trouble of telling her I wasn’t interested,” he spoke, eyes now focused on the road.

“Oh, you’re welcome, you seemed uncomfortable, just thought you could use an out of the conversation, she clearly couldn’t take a hint,” you reply as you go to grab a book out of your bag to read while he drives. 

The conversations dwindled from there; it wasn’t quite silence, the navigation gave directions here and there, and there was some quiet contemporary music playing in the background. It was far from awkward; you were both content to share the space as you both embarked on a journey.

At some point, you had fallen asleep, and you were woken up by Lewis, who had stopped at a gas station to refill the tank and get some food. 

“Hey, sleepy head,” He smiled at you as you opened your eyes. It was bright now, but the sun wasn’t high in the sky yet, meaning it was still before noon. “Thought you might want to get something to eat and to maybe use the restroom before we continue on.”

“Well, aren’t you a gentleman?” You let out a quiet yawn as you stretched your arms above your head. You get out of the car to take care of business and to grab some food. Looking at the sign, you saw he had stopped at a 7/11, it looked to be one of the less-shitty ones that you had seen throughout your time hitchhiking. 

After using the restroom and refilling your water bottle and grabbing some of the shitty gas station food you walk back over to the truck. Lewis had just finished pumping the gas when you walked up. “You need me to drive the next leg?” You ask as he turns to look at you before wiping his hands on his pants. “No offence, but you look dead on your feet.”

“Do you even know how to drive?” His voice had a teasing lilt to it as he watched your expression change from a smile to affronted.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been driving since I could sit in a go-kart.” You put your finger to his chest in an accusing manner before pushing slightly, and he rocked back onto his heels as he raised his hands in surrender.

“Ok, ok, I believe you.” He digs the keys out of his pocket to hand them to you, “I’ll be back in just a moment.” With that, he heads toward the entrance of the gas station, and you go around to the driver's seat. When you get in, you put the key in the ignition and adjust the seat to your height. You put on a ball cap, from inside his truck, not really paying attention to which one. So you don't have to deal with your hair. You connect to the truck's Bluetooth and turn on ‘The Girl from Ipanema’ by Frank Sinatra and Antônio Carlos Jobim. You’re singing along when Lewis opens the passenger door. 

“Tall and tan and young and lovely The girl from Ipanema goes walking And when she passes, each one she passes goes "aah" When she walks, she's like a samba That swings so cool and sways so gentle that When she passes, each one she passes goes "ooh" Ooh, but I watch her so sadly How can I tell her I love her? Yes I would give my heart gladly But each day, when she walks to the sea She looks straight ahead, not at me”

You smile at him and pause the music, and look towards him as he settles into the passenger seat. He turns to look at you after finally settling, and he sees the hat that you're wearing and cracks a large grin. 

“Are you wearing my hat?” he asks.

“I mean, I just grabbed one from in here,” you gesture to the interior of the truck. “I assume it's your hat. I didn’t want to get mine from my bag.” You say as you take the hat off to look at it. It was one of his Mack truck hats that had a bulldog on it, you smile to yourself before putting it back on your head, and giving him a smirk and a wink before you turn the music back on and pull out of the gas station lot. 

You continue to sing softly under your breath as you drive. After maybe 30 minutes of doing whatever on his phone, Lewis falls asleep.

It isn’t until a few hours later that he wakes up, you don’t notice whats so ever, still singing under your breath as you tap along to the beat of the song playing. That’s when he noticed the song playing for the first time, ‘A Dog’s Adventure’.

“Dance, feels like another life Go through days to see only black and white Take me to gold trees out the windows Like me 'cause I like you Let's watch water turn blue We're just dogs out in the street, ooh”

He couldn’t help but admire you in all your chaotic beauty. You still wore his hat, covering your sleep-mussed hair, and at some point during his nap found a pair of his golf oakley’s that looked a touch too big for your face. You were still in the clothes you were wearing at the diner, but you had shed a layer or two since then, now just in a faded t-shirt covered in oil stains and a pair of jeans that had loads of paint stains on them and cowboy boots. The light from the afternoon sun was hitting your face in a way that made your skin glow, and reflected in your eyes that he could faintly see them through the sunglasses.

When you finally noticed he was awake, it was just after the song had ended, you sent a beaming smile in his direction, and reached out to pause the next song before it even really started.

“Hey, how was your nap?” You grab a water bottle out of one of the cup holders and hold it towards him. “You were sleeping like a log, tried to wake you up earlier when I stopped to refill the tank, you didn’t so much as move a muscle.” He took the water bottle from you, and you moved your hand back to resting on the bottom of the steering wheel.

“What song were you listing to just a moment ago?” He asked acting oblivious as he took a swig from the bottle.

“Oh, did you enjoy it? It’s called ‘A Dog’s Adventure’, it’s by an indie band called Atta Boy. I’m going to one of their shows in September.” You reply, completely oblivious to his scheming as he hides a smirk behind another swig of his water bottle.

“They haven’t released much music, but I think the quality of their music makes up for it.” You say with a smile, the compliment so genuine, he almost didn’t have the heart to break the news to you.

“Do you know who wrote the song?” He was trying so hard to suppress his smile. You looked over at him with a look that said ‘Of course I do’.

“Yeah, their drummer wrote it while they were still in high school.” He was impressed but also so confounded by you, still not putting the pieces together. “Ya’ know his name's Lewis, too. I never really bothered learning their last names. He was a cute kid. I found the video online, back when I still lived with my parents. Glasses, a little bit of baby fat in his cheeks.” 

Lewis couldn’t believe what he was hearing, you still didn’t realise that he was the very quote unquote kid you were describing.

“Sweetheart…” He said with an exasperated sigh.

“Huh? What? Why are you calling me Sweetheart all a sudden?” You gave him a glance, your eyes held confusion as you looked towards him. He gave you a look. “No. Don’t you dare!” You jab a finger towards him. “I am driving. Do not give me that look. I don’t think I can handle you dropping a bomb like that while I’m driving. We’re putting a pin in this, and we can continue at the next stop.” Your words were final, and you punctuated the end of the conversation by turning the music back on and turning up the volume. ‘Linger’ by The Cranberries is now playing through the truck's speakers.

An hour later, you pull into a parking spot at a rest stop. You roll the windows down slightly before turning off the truck and taking the keys out of the ignition, and stuffing them into your pocket.

Turning to Lewis, you look at him as you take his sunglasses off your face to rest them on the bill of the hat you wore. You cross your arms over your chest as he also turns to face you, resting his arms on the center console, looking very amused. 

During the hour after he woke up and you arriving at the rest stop two more songs by Atta Boy had cycled through your playlist and each time he’d get a smug expression on his face, that slightly made you want to smack him on the shoulder. 

You gather all your mental strength as you prepare yourself for the question you’re about to ask him. “Are you the drummer for the band Atta Boy?” He nods his head, a grin starting to stretch across his face. “And you're also the same guy who played Bob in Top Gun?” He nodded again, his grin now like a cheshire cat, as a mortified expression overcame your face. 

“I’m such a fucking idiot, how the hell did I not recognise you?” Your voice started soft. “I mean come on your fucking GORGEOUS! What the fuck is wrong with me?” Your voice grew louder the longer you questioned the usefulness of your brain.

“It was quite endearing hearing your unfiltered opinion about my band, and you not knowing who I was when we met,” Lewis interjected. You looked at him with a look of renewed embarrassment.

“I talked about how cute you looked as a high schooler. I said that to your face. I never thought I’d actually meet you. Lord knows I’m just as delusional as the next person. But hell, I somehow ended up in your car." You pause, "Oh my god, I’ve been driving you around for the past seven hours. I need a walk.” With that being the end of your rant you grabbed his keys out of your pocket set them on the center console near where he was resting his arms and then proceeded to what could only be hurling yourself out of the truck like your ass was on fire.

Lewis just looked from where you were once sitting to where you were now pacing around the rest stop through the windshield. Deciding it was probably better to let you figure out your feelings, he went through the motions of a rest stop break, restroom, brief walk, snack, and getting water. You were still pacing when he got back to the truck, but you now had your phone held up to your ear and seemed to be talking to someone on the phone, your other hand was making dramatic motions as you wore a hole into the ground from your pacing.

Getting his own phone out he called Danny, it rang once before he picked up. “Hey man what’s up?” Danny asked through the line.

“I might have made a spontaneous decision that may affect me for the rest of my life.” Lewis said his voice not hiding his amusement.

“What did you get a tattoo or something on your drive back to Cali?” He could hear the smile in Danny’s voice.

“Or Something…” Lewis trailed off as he looked at you still on the phone, your expression exasperated, you still had his hat and sunglasses on, the sunglasses were sliding down the bridge of your nose slightly, and you had since turned the cap backwards.

“Whoa, what did you do? You didn’t like shave your head right, like Sebastian, your designer would be so pissed if you did that, hell I’d be mad if you did that, your hair is amazing man.”

“I met someone.” Lewis said his voice fond.

“You met someone… Is this like a ‘Lewis Pullman Movie Star’ met someone, or a Lewis ‘Let me be’ met someone?” Danny asked, his voice was inquisitive and slightly cautious.

“Both, you’ll get to meet ‘em when you visit next month. Hopefully,” he tacked on at the end as he watched you put your phone into your pocket and plop yourself onto the ground a moment later.

“Meet them? Are you taking them home like they’re a stray?” Danny asked voice incredulous. “Did you pick someone up off the street?”

Lewis seemed to finally start feeling sheepish, “Maybe?”

“Maybe what do you mean ‘Maybe?’ What does that mean? Did you really pick someone off the side of a street and decide they needed to come with you? I know you have a heart of gold, but they could be a serial killer!” Danny seemed extremely concerned now.

“They’re not gonna kill me,” Lewis said when he saw you start approaching the truck again. “Anyway, I gotta go talk later. Bye.” And with that, he ended the call just as you got into the passenger seat.

masterlist | playlist | part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

Taglist: @smoothdogsgirl @bmyva1entine @daisydark @sadpetalsstuff @xblueriddlex @louloulemons-posts@alloboinga84@articel1967@dazed-and-confused101 @wutheringheightstillpendalhill

[vengefulmariner]

sherri dupree flicker posts! + some eisley ofc

[tehcherrya]

Went to see my local state symphony play the soundtrack to Fellowship of the Ring!! :D

It was absolutely amazing, seeing the work of Howard Shore, along with the choral lyricism done by Fran Walsh, just surround your ears, and watching the movie felt like a whole other magical experience.

Also mini Legolas got to come too!

[deep-down-in-drowsy-town]

One Song in Every Language

Okay, tumblr. Let's try something.

I want to make a playlist with one song in every single language. Of course, this is impossible- the spotify playlist limit is something like 5,000- but I want to try. Of course, I can't do this alone, and so I'm sharing the project with the entire online language nerd/ music nerd community. Together we can celebrate linguistic diversity- and find some really cool music :)

Here's how it works. This spreadsheet will document every song and language represented. When you want to add a song, first look in the spreadsheet to see if that language is already represented. If it isn't, add the song to the playlist, and then add it to the spreadsheet.

What counts as a language? This is, as we all know, a fundamentally political question (Russian/ Ukrainian? Hindi/ Urdu? "Chinese" and its "dialects"...) We don't have to solve those debates here. My thinking is: the point is to celebrate linguistic diversity in as many forms as possible. If you can make a reasonable argument for why a song and its linguistic variety should be represented, go ahead and add it.

Yes, this means conlangs count (cause conlangs are SICK!) This also means dead languages count- throw in all the Latin and Classical Nahuatl you like. Glossolalia (à la Sigur Ros) and semi-linguistic scat-esque nonsense (à la Kobaian)? Sure, why not!

I'm calling this one song in every language, but we also want to highlight small and minority languages. So maybe we don't want ten different French songs, but if there are two or three different artists singing in Sami (especially different varieties of Sami), throw it in!

Let's make this awesome. Let's make this huge. Spread it around to every language nerd and music geek you know.

Thanks, dankon, merci, etc :)

[puttingthesickinforensic]

lifting in my one of my band tees and getting the approval from random old guys lol

[purplestainedglass]

[rakelrambles]

study tip: if you want to listen to music and don’t want to be distracted but also don’t feel like listening to instrumental music, listen to music in a language you really don’t understand at all.

i’ve been listening to french jazz and really liking it because while i don’t understand the lyrics the voice and instruments still sound really nice!

[eclairemaire]

the sound of music pt.3

masterlist | playlist | part 1 part 2 part 4 part 5 part 6

Pairing: Lewis Pullman x Reader Category: Fluff Summary: Stranded in a 24-hour diner in the middle of nowhere, you make an unlikely companion as you bond over the sound of music. Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Swearing, fast-burn??? (idk), No mention of Y/N, Nicknames & petnames, mechanic-ish reader, musician reader (Lemme know if I missed any) Notes: This is part 3 of this series. I hope everyone enjoys. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; all characters are just that, characters, and have no ties to their real-life counterparts.

Lewis puts his phone onto the dash as you plop into the passenger seat, you sigh and throw yours up there as well. He watches as you rest your elbows on your knees and stare at the floorboard for a minute. 

“Ok,” you say after a moment.

“Ok?” he asks in response.

“Yeah, Ok.” You look at him for the first time since you got into the car. “I will move in with you.” Lewis looks like he’s about to start talking, but you hold up a finger to stop him.

“But there are some conditions.” Your tone brooks no argument from him, so he nods and waits for you to continue. 

“First,” you hold up a finger. “I will NOT mooch off your wealth or take any freebies. Therefore, I will not just live with you; I will be paying rent, and you can decide how much that is later. But this is non-negotiable.” Lewis nods, but doesn’t look like he quite agrees with it.

“Second,” you raise a second finger. “You need to be aware that I am not very fond of people, so if you have a ton of people over or something to that effect, give me like a 30-minute warning so I can prepare myself.”

“I understand that.”

“Third,” you raise a third finger. “I know your family is very private about your lives, I ask that you extend that courtesy to me. I have no interest in being a public figure, I don’t want fame, I don’t want your money. I just want to be me, and if that includes being your friend or whatever, great. I respect your boundaries and you respect mine.” Lewis hums low in his throat and nods agreement.

“I think I can do those things, but I want to add something.” He says, “You continue to treat me just like anybody else. Not an Actor or an important Musician, just me, Lewis.” 

“I think you’ve got yourself a deal.” You put out your hand for him to shake, and he does. After that, he starts the truck, and y’all continue on your journey to Lewis’s home.

It’s a week after your initial move-in that you have a slight conundrum, it’s around mid-afternoon, and Lewis was just finishing up a call when you messaged him.

‘Hey, we need to talk when you get the chance.’  He read your message and let you know that he was free now for the rest of the afternoon.

Knocking on his office door, you wait for him to respond, “Come in.” He turns and smiles at you as you open the door and lean on the door frame. “What’s up?” 

“We need to figure out how to get my stuff from my storage unit.” You say.

“Okay, well, where’s your storage unit?” He asks.

“It’s a U-Haul unit in Oklahoma. Got all my shit in there, my piano, my violin and my car to name a few things.” You say as you walk further into his office. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to play violin,” he mused as you stopped in front of him in his desk chair.

“Believe it or not, there are quite a few things you don’t know about me.” You reply.

“Well, we could use a moving service, have them go to your unit, get your stuff, and haul it out here.” He said, as he turned to look one up on his computer. 

“Yeah, that’s where the issue comes up, I don’t think anybody we sent would know how to drive my car…” You trail off at the end of your sentence, and Lewis turns back around to look at you.

“Why wouldn’t someone know how to drive your car?” His gaze was curious as he eyed where you stood, fiddling with your fingers.

“Uhh… becauseitsavintagejapaneseimportedcar.” You said it so fast that he missed the majority of what you said.

“Care to repeat that slower?” He requested.

“Because it’s a vintage Japanese import car.” You repeated, slower, ducking your head down in slight embarrassment.

“You have a vintage import car?” He didn’t seem to believe you.

“Yeah, remember I said I’d been driving since I could sit in a go-kart. That later translated into working on and owning vintage cars. How do you think I made enough money to hitchhike for three months by myself?” You ask, putting your hands on your hips as you stared him down in his seat. He raised his hands in surrender before responding.

“Ok, so what do you suggest doing if we can't do the moving service?”

“I’ll probably call my dad to be honest, get our enclosed trailer, and meet up with him at the storage unit and drive back here with my shit. Then I can ‘officially’ move in.” You state matter-of-factly.

“Sounds like a plan, what do you need from me?” He asked, not seeing where he came into play in this situation.

“I need you to drop me off at the airport in a few days, and not be here when we get there. I know it’s your place and all, but my dad’s really overprotective, and I really don’t want him scaring you off, because then I’ll have to find a new place to live.” You state with a deadpan expression on your face.

“I uh yeah, when do you think you’ll be back?” He asked after checking his calendar for the next week or so.

“I’ll fly out in two days, it’ll be a little over 22 22-hour drive, so maybe two days after that, I can text you when we’re five hours away.” You say as you look at your phone, and then over to him. He nods, and then his phone rings, and you take that as your cue to exit his office and leave him be.

Four days later your unloading all your shit from your dad’s trailer and taking it into the house and putting the various boxes in their designated places, kitchen things in the kitchen, your toiletries in your bathroom, your tool box in the garage, and all your other possessions is going into your room the only thing you don’t know what to do with is your piano. 

So you call Lewis. He picks up after the second ring. “Hey Lew,” you say as you look around the living room.

“Hey, what’s up? How’s unloading going?” he asks.

“Good, only one thing left.” You answer.

“Oh, that’s good, what is it?”

“You wouldn’t be opposed to having a piano in the living room, right?” Your voice is soft as you ask.

“Why don’t you just put it in the studio?” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Um, because the studio is full of the bands equipment, I wouldn’t want to fuck anything up.” Was your answer.

“You wouldn’t fuck anything up.” He laughed, but you weren’t joking. If you somehow broke any of that equipment, you wouldn’t be able to face him ever again.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that, you’ve seen what a clutz I am sometimes,” you mutter.

“Here, how about this, you and your dad can leave it in the living room for now and when I get back, we'll move it to the studio?”

“Ok.”

“Great, see you later, Sweetheart.”

“Bye, Lew.” You sigh as you hang up the phone and shove it into your pocket, before going to the kitchen, where your dad is sitting at the table on his phone.

“We can put it in the living room, but we need to leave it on the furniture dollies.” You state as he looks up from his phone. “I’ll mail them back home to y’all, lord knows no one else is moving anytime soon.”

“When do I get to meet your new roommate?” He asks as he gets up, and y’all both go to get the piano from outside. 

“You likely won’t, they’re busy, and won’t be back for a day or two.” You say as you begin to push the piano into the house and towards the living room. Your dad doesn’t have a response to that, and you both carry on. He leaves an hour later after making sure you had everything, and goes to his hotel for the night before he leaves in the morning.

Lewis comes back home around eight pm to see you in your pajamas dancing around as you pull stuff out of boxes and put them in places around the kitchen. ‘Lover, You Should’ve Come Over’ by Jeff Buckley was playing throughout the house. The lyrics were ringing in his ears as he listened to you sing them.

“My body turns And yearns for a sleep that won't ever come It's never over My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder It's never over All my riches for her smiles When I've slept so soft against her It's never over All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter It's never over She is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever Oh, but maybe I'm just too young To keep good love from going wrong”

You spun around to get a box from near the door when you finally saw him, your smile beaming as your eyes lit up. You turned down the music but didn’t turn it off as you walked over to him, where he leaned against the door frame. He smiled at you as you came to a halt in front of him. He reached out and wrapped his arms around your shoulders and rested his chin on your head, as your arms wrapped around his waist. 

“How was the drive?” He asks, voice quiet.

“Long, but good, Dad’s heading out tomorrow morning.” You murmur against his chest.

“I missed you,” his voice was thick with emotion.

“Hey, I was only gone like three days,” you pull back and put your hands on either side of his face. “What are you going to do when you go on tour, or leave to film? Can’t just put me in your pocket and go with.” You giggle as he pouts at you.

“So where’s this mysterious car you were worried someone wouldn’t be able to drive?” He asked.

“In the garage, you can see it tomorrow. Right now, you have to help me move the piano into the studio.” You say as you pull out of his hold entirely to walk to the living room. 

You both got the piano into the studio successfully without damaging any of the equipment, but it was significantly more difficult than either of you thought it would be and took a whole hour; you both collapsed into a heap onto the couch after.

Over the following weeks, you and Lewis got to know each other more. You learned about how went to college to be a social worker, and he learned that you went to trade school and had a shit ton of certifications in different fields, so you could do odd jobs while you traveled. You both continued to bond over music, with him being the drummer for his band, and you as a ‘classically’ trained musician. 

During those weeks, your stuff had started to appear all over the house, goofy mugs sat on the drying rack by the sink, and in the cabinets, books of various genres littered bookshelves, and at least 2 of your blankets could be found in the living room, car parts were sitting in boxes in the garage waiting to be installed either onto your car or his truck, and sheet music could be found on almost any flat surface within the house. Your jackets and shoes had made homes in his entryway. And the number of plants around the home had skyrocketed.

~ 

Danny wasn’t sure he had the right house when he pulled up; the porch had a significantly larger number of potted plants than he remembered from his time living with Lewis. The garage door was open, and he could see a wicked-looking car inside that he didn’t think Lewis could ever justify buying for himself. But he double-checked the address, and it was Lewis’s house, and it was the day they had planned to meet up.

Lewis had told him that he could come straight in when he got there, and he did have his own key after all. He paused at the front door. He could hear music playing throughout the house, and he was sure that if he did have to knock, whoever was inside wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Unlocking the door, he was greeted by the smell of food coming from the kitchen and the sound of singing, which wasn’t Lewis's.

“Hey Lewis, I’m here!” He yelled into the house as he was taking his shoes off, before heading towards the kitchen. When Danny walked into the kitchen, he wasn’t expecting to see you at the dining table, in what appeared to be one of Lewis’s shirts and a pair of pants covered in paint. You were on a laptop and had a notebook next to you, and were chewing on the end of a pencil as you stared at the screen in front of you.

“Lew’s in his office,” you say, jamming a finger in that direction without looking up from your laptop. “Tell him lunch is almost ready and if he wants some he needs to get his butt out here in the next five minutes.” You add before you scribble something down in your notebook. Before you stand, crack your back and pick up your things, and leave the kitchen.

Danny was not expecting that to be how you would act, but he still wasn’t even sure who you were, and you left before he could even get a word in. Deciding to find Lewis, he goes to his office and knocks on the door. Lewis opens the door and up seeing Danny, smiles brightly.

“Hey man,” He pulls Danny into a hug.

“There was a random person in your kitchen who told me to tell you, quote unquote ‘lunch is almost ready and if he wants some he needs to get his butt out here in the next five minutes.’” Danny said after they separated.

“That’s my supposed stray I picked up a month ago.” Lewis laughed and started for the kitchen.

“Wait, they’re actually living with you?” Danny asked incredulously.

“Uh, yeah. Moved in officially like a week and a half after we got back.” Lewis answered. 

When they reached the kitchen, the music had been turned down, and you were pulling something out of the oven. It smelled even better than it did earlier. You set down the lasagna on a marble slab in the middle of the dining table, which had been set for three people. Once your hands were empty, Lewis decided to introduce you both.

“Danny, this is the stray,” He says, gesturing to you, “Sweetheart, this is Danny Ramirez.” You stick out your hand to shake Danny’s.

“Nice to meet you, Danny. Lew’s been singing your praises the past few days.” You say voice fond as you glance at Lewis.

“Nice to meet you as well, though I haven’t heard as much about you, I’m afraid,” Danny says as you release his hand and move to sit down. 

“Not surprising, I’ve asked Lewis to keep me under wraps, people aren’t my forte.” You reply.

“That explains why I haven’t heard about you since that first phone call,” Danny says, sitting across from you at the table. At the mention of the phone call, you shoot a look towards Lewis as he goes to grab drinks, you can see that his ears are slightly pink, from where you are sitting.

“I wasn’t aware that Lewis had told anyone besides the band that I was living with him.” Your tone was curious as you looked back over to Danny.

“Haha,” Lewis gave an awkward laugh as he sat down. “Well, it was before you actually agreed you’d stay. “ Lewis muttered.

“Oh, so that’s who you were talking to before I came back to the truck. Gotcha.” Was your response.

masterlist | playlist | part 1 part 2 part 4 part 5 part 6

Taglist: @smoothdogsgirl @bmyva1entine @daisydark @sadpetalsstuff @xblueriddlex @louloulemons-posts@alloboinga84@articel1967@dazed-and-confused101 @wutheringheightstillpendalhill

[figgsandciggs]

If I could go back in time I would’ve told me one month ago to never see them front row bc know I can’t listen to them without crying.

[greensparty]

Remembering Brian Wilson 1942-2025

Sad news that musical genius (and I don't use that term lightly) Brian Wilson has died at 82. In the same week we lost Sly Stone, we've now lost another musical innovator who came up in the 1960s.

Wilson in the studio circa 1960s

Along with his brothers Carl (1946-1998) and Dennis (1944-1983), he co-founded The Beach Boys. They brought their surf pop sound to the masses. My introduction to the band was actually "California Girls". After hearing the David Lee Roth cover in 1985, I discovered the original. Shortly thereafter, I picked up the 45 single of their 1985 song "Getcha Back". In the years that followed they did a duet with The Fat Boys on "Wipeout" and "Kokomo" introduced them to a new generation. I had read that Paul McCartney was highly influenced by The Beach Boys' magnum opus Pet Sounds and that inspired him with The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper. I, then, went out and got Pet Sounds. Wilson’s musical genius truly reached its peak with the amazing songwriting, craftsmanship, and orchestrations coming together in this pure pop masterpiece. I’m not even the biggest Beach Boys fan in the world, but I can see the genius (and influence) in this album! “God Only Knows” is my personal favorite! Side note: McCartney can be heard chomping carrots on the album. I also got their 2003 Sounds of Summer compilation.

Sir Paul and Wilson circa 2006

McCartney had said that "God Only Knows" is his favorite song of all time and it brings him to tears. Hard not to cry to it, especially as it played during the end montage of Boogie Nights. McCartney performed that song with Wilson in concert once. There was a lot of overlap between Wilson and The Beatles. He and John Lennon partied in the 70s. Wilson and George Harrison had talked about doing a collaboration which never happened, but Wilson performed "My Sweet Lord" at the George Fest tribute concert. Wilson sang backup on Ringo Starr's album Time Takes Time.

In addition to his work with The Beach Boys, his solo music was significant too. 2004 saw the release of Brian Wilson Presents Smile, in which he re-recorded the unfinished Beach Boys album from 1967. It was worth the wait!

He appeared in a ton of documentaries including Echo in the Canyon. Last year, Frank Marshall and Thom Zimny did the documentary The Beach Boys. While it was good, I wanted more of that reunion of the band members they showed towards the end. Wilson's life also got the narrative film treatment with 2015's Love & Mercy, in which Paul Dano played him in the 1960s and John Cusack played him in the 1980s. Worth checking out!

The link above is the obit from Hollywood Reporter.

[shoulderscars]

I never liked the whole "musicians understand and love music better than non-musicians" argument, but I (violinist) was playing 'Concerning Hobbits' and...it was so pure. I can't get over the feeling of actually playing it. It beat the feeling of listening to it :')

[vengeancevixen]

Love how Spencer & Brendon are such music nerds! Spencer calling Brendon to help him think of a name of a song. They are so cute.

[justtheclippy]

Hiii Amanda! Quick question, what’s your favorite song?

Impossible question. I'm one of those music freaks who is listening to music 24/7 and feels an deep, profound, nerd level connection to songs in general it'd be hard to choose a favorite.

Instead I'll put my likes on random and give you the first few that come up:

- Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

- Sabor a Mí by Eydie Gormé

- C'mon Baby, Cry by Orville Peck

- Sun and Moon by Anees

- Chronosaurus by Stray Kids

- Santé by Stromae

[djokeeryme]

✨Deep Diving into Djo Songs with me✨

Today: Personal Lies

Hiiii, I'm just a music nerd who loves picking apart songs, overanalyzing lyrics, and trying to figure out the deeper meaning behind the sounds we love. Sometimes it's profound, sometimes it's chaotic, but either way, it's fun.

Music isn't just something to listen to. It's a story, an emotion, a whole experience that changes depending on who's hearing it. This breakdown is just my take-how I interpret the song, what stands out to me, and what I think it's really saying. You might see it totally differently, and that's the beauty of music.

▶️ Play Personal Lies while reading this. ▶️

Personal Lies is a track by Djo, the musical project of Joe Keery. It was released on August 30, 2019, as part of his debut album, Twenty Twenty.

This song is hypnotic, a little eerie, and packed with introspection. It pulls you into a spiral of self-deception, avoidance, and the quiet unraveling that happens when pretending starts to feel easier than facing reality.

Now, lets break it down. ☺️

📍Denial as a Defense Mechanism

"Lately I feel like l've been losing my mind / I'm acting funny, I keep refilling my wine."

Right from the start, this song doesn't disguise what it's about. It's an admission of self-destruction, but with a twist-it's not presented as dramatic or tragic. It's casual, almost dismissive, like someone acknowledging that something is wrong but refusing to do anything about it.

The repetition of refilling wine isn't just a random detail. It represents avoidance. The narrator isn't processing emotions; they're distracting themselves, choosing comfort over clarity.

We all have our version of this. Maybe it's staying busy, scrolling endlessly, or throwing ourselves into work, relationships, or mindless habits instead of facing what we don't want to think about.

📍The Moment of Internal Conflict

"I fail to notice when I push past my limit / And then I lied about it, said I didn't."

This is where the self-awareness kicks in, but it doesn't change anything. The narrator knows they've gone too far, but instead of admitting it, they rewrite reality to fit a version that feels easier.

It's one of the most painfully relatable lines in the song. That feeling of knowing you should take a step back, knowing you're pushing yourself too hard, knowing something is wrong-but telling yourself, No, I'm fine. I can handle this.

📍Seeking Attention Without Asking for Help

"Fake aggravation is your way to be seen / You summon every single muscle on the team."

Not all frustration is genuine. Sometimes, it's a performance-not in a manipulative way, but in a way that comes from longing to be noticed.

This line highlights a subtle but incredibly real behavior. The idea of acting annoyed, irritated, or upset not because you necessarily feel that way, but because it's the only way you know to express that you need attention.

Think of the times you've been short with someone for no reason, secretly hoping they'd check in. Or when you've made a passive comment, wishing someone would pick up on it.

This song understands that feeling without directly calling it out, making it feel even more intimate.

📍The Emotional Collapse-When Pretending Stops Working

"Do you care? Not at all."

No big emotional climax. No resolution.

Just numbness.

The outro repeats, creating a hypnotic, detached feeling that mirrors emotional exhaustion. It's not a question anymore-it's a statement. The narrator is convincing themselves over and over, that nothing matters.

It's the most haunting part of the song because it captures that final stage of emotional avoidance, where feelings stop being loud and just fade into the background.

📍Final Reflection

Personal Lies isn't just about deception. It's about what happens when avoiding the truth becomes second nature, when pretending isn't a choice anymore but just the way you operate.

It's about knowing something is wrong and choosing distractions instead of solutions. It's the moment when self-awareness kicks in…but not hard enough to change anything.

It's pretending you're fine so well that you start to believe it. And if you believe it, then maybe it's true. Right?

Except it's not.

This song understands that exhaustion doesn't always look like falling apart. Sometimes, it looks like going through the motions, playing along, keeping everything at a steady hum…just loud enough to keep the real feelings quiet.

Maybe that's why it feels so haunting. Because everyone has done this at some point. Everyone has ignored the obvious signs, has put off dealing with something, has convinced themselves everything is fine when it isn't.

And when you do that for long enough, eventually, those emotions don't disappear. They just stop feeling real.

Hope you enjoyed this episode of "music makes me question everything."

If you made it this far, congrats!!! you're officially part of the club where we spiral over sound and call it a hobby.

Let's do it again soon. 😘✌️

[queenjazz7]

Defying gravity in every aspect is very important to me!!!! Something about the instrumentals and lyrics just make me emotional!

Also I’m a sucker for callbacks or motifs to other pieces of music. Like that part where Elphaba goes “unlimited” and it sounds like somewhere over the rainbow. GOSH it’s genius. I just can’t stop listening to it. Cynthia Erivo you are a gem!!! You will always be famous!!!!!

Ooooh and the end after her battle cry when the ensemble sings that chord and then it goes back into the instruments omg I love it