#losing a musician you love when music means a lot to you is like losing a friend and I completely get it

[loverboybrightsideghost]

i really do love practicing 🎻

[taylorhawkins]

the update is in my pinned post, but I am developing a tagging system for this blog…

part of that tagging system is something I’ve been wanting to do: basically create a fan wall in tribute to Taylor (it’ll be tagged as ‘t tributes’) so that’s where I’ll be reblogging/posting fan stories about him/meeting him, how he impacted our lives, if you’ve got a hawk tattoo you wanna share, memories, pictures, or just a place to share how much you love & miss that guy… etc

I’ve seen a couple fan wall websites & I know there was a wall of sticky notes with a similar theme at the tribute shows, so I wanted to create a continuation of that

If you’d like to drop anything in to put there please feel free! submissions are open or you can send it as an ask. also if you’ve already made a post and want to put it on that wall you can tag me in the replies and I’ll reblog it. 💓

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hobie x deadpool reader or spider reader

Hobie Brown x Deadpool male reader

Headcanons

I love Deadpool, who doesn’t love Deadpool? I tried to think of what Deadpool would be like in Hobies’ earth, and I just feel like he would kinda just be the same as always, except maybe with a metal aesthetic. And any chance to work my favorite music into stuff? I’m taking it.

You were Deadpool, and had been Deadpool for a long time. In the beginning it had just been your musician and artist name. Much of your music was different types of metal, with lyrics focused on judging the system and pointing fingers at its corruption.

Of course, a lot of people hated your music, but there was also those who loved it. One of them being Hobie Brown. Even before he became spiderman, hed always been a very righteous person with strong opinions about corruption and capitalism, so finding an artist who shared his views was great.

That was until you got a little too popular and stepped on the wrong people’s toes with your music and art. When you started pointing fingers at Osborn and his wild corruption, those against you grew more and more violent.

And at one of your biggest concerts to date, one that offered all the proceeds to those in need, you were assassinated right on stage. Theories would go around saying it was Osborn wanting to get rid of you, and telling everyone what would happen if they crossed him.

Panic consumed the arena after you were shot right on stage, and in the panic your body was whisked away. Deadpool became an icon in the anarchist circle, as one of the first to stand up against suppression and never back down no matter what.

Time would pass, Hobie would become Spiderman, and he would fight people like Osborn, even killing the guy with his guitar in the end.

But even after killing Osborn, the world was still in disarray, meaning a lot of work had to be done. So, when someone who went by Deadpool started popping up in stories and rumors, it caught people’s attention.

It was assumed you were just a fan, who wanted to use the legendary name of Deadpool to spread your message, or maybe the honor the original Deadpool. That was until people met you though.

You had the same clothes, only now wearing a mask. Your boots, your jacket, your spikes, and patches, even your guitar, you had it all. And on closer inspection, true fans could see it was the real thing.

You were almost like a ghost of the past, stories would go around that you were the angered spirit of the musician Deadpool, having crawled out of hell to wreak havoc on the upper class and tear out the roots of capitalism.

Hobie would want to meet you of course, you were like his hero and biggest inspiration. The first time you two would meet would be during a fight of some sort, and you’d chuck your guitar across the battlefield to nail a corrupt cop in the head before they could get a lucky shot at Hobie.

After that you two became close like two peas in a pod. Hobie would never treat you like you were someone above him, even though he had admired you for years, because he doesn’t believe in treating celebrities like gods.

Soon Deadpool and Spiderman being spotted together was a common sight, and so was seeing spiderman swing around with Deadpool in his arms or hanging on his back like a koala.

You never really take off your mask in the beginning, but when you do Hobie learns why you keep it on. You have a large scar taking up part of your head where the bullet had blown your head apart all that time ago.

You had apparently always been a mutant with a light healing factor, which had kept you alive, but you had been whisked away from Osborn researchers who wanted to use your healing factor. But in the end, they’d simply boosted your powers and you became pretty much unkillable.

This leads to you taking most of the hits during battle, since you can easily take it, anything you lose will just grow back. That doesn’t stop Hobie from worrying though, because seeing someone get their arm sliced off is pretty extreme.

Your first kiss is something you’d only have with a version of Deadpool. Hobie would be carrying your head after it’s been sliced off, and you would be asking him for a kiss and blowing him kisses from where hes carrying your head.

Now, anyone normal wouldn’t do what Hobie does, but Hobie doesn’t like to fit the mold. So, he would lift your severed but still living head and kiss you on the lips. Cue a make out until your body stumbles over and you can get your head back on.

You two never actually put a label to what you are, because that’s not the type of person you two are. But you two are pretty much dating now. You move into an apartment together, and sleep in the same bed at night, and kiss whenever you want.

Spiderman and Deadpool pretty much become icons in your community, for standing up towards oppression, and also being two hot guys who hold concerts after fights.

[astrobaeza]

prediction astrology:

Saturn in Pisces transit + how you could get famous ♓️ ✨

credits to @astrobaeza

Saturn entered Pisces on March 7, 2023 and will stay there until May 24, 2025. Already, we have been able to see new musicians, artists, collectives rise to fame.

example: Victoria Monét -> her song "On My Mama" went viral and she has her Moon and North Node in Pisces. Despite being popular for some time, she is just now really blowing up.

British Duo "Jungle" went viral for their song "Back on 74". Tom McFarland, one half of the duo, has his NN in Pisces in his 7th house of partnership (his band) and his moon at 29° Pisces in his 9th house of the media. They blew up but I also predict their fame is being solidified and will grow even more.

Here is what I predict for the Saturn in Pisces transits in the houses.

✨ Pisces 1st house: solidification or complete undoing of your identity. this could be a time where you find the perfect routine for your skin, hair, makeup, or maybe completely transform your look or how you present to others. could become famous for looks and self (think modeling, youtube, Tiktok, instagram) post your selfies queens and kings!

✨ Pisces 2nd house: transformation of your personal values, increase in self worth, and influx of wealth and possessions. this could be a time where you become more confident and come into more money as a result. your values could translate in the work you do or anything you make or create. you could become famous for becoming wealthy or whatever you do as a result of this increase in confidence.

✨ Pisces 3rd house: you become more communicative with your community, neighbors, and siblings. strengthening of familial ties as well as gains in writing, singing, or public speech. you could become famous for your artistic or oratorical communication like writing music, poetry, or doing a public speech. could also become famous through your siblings.

✨ Pisces 4th house: your home life becomes more nurturing, sensitive and soft and your connection to your roots increases in familiarity. you could learn more and grow closer to your roots on an emotional level. this could look like traveling back to your hometown / birth place, picking up new family traditions, or healing broken family bonds. could become famous through your family or through exploration of you roots.

✨ Pisces 5th house: strengthening of creative abilities, creative drive, and increase in artistic pursuits / opportunities. you most likely feel more creative during this time, and have more of a drive to showcase this. great time for musicians, artists, and performers who want visibility for their art. also a time where you could go on more dates, fall in love, and have kids. could become famous for anything creative, your children, your romances.

✨ Pisces 6th house: transformation of work, health, and routines. you could become a lot healthier during this time through new workouts, diets, and lifestyle. you could also find new work, leave an old job, or have restrictions around your work and health lifted. could become famous through something like huge weight loss, introducing a new skin care brand, or through your work.

✨ Pisces 7th house: long-standing partnerships are inducted: meaning marriage, new business opportunities that bring you a lot of success or more connections, could also mean more enemies due to this success. could become famous for who you marry, who you do business with, or who defames you.

✨ Pisces 8th house: could result in an entire death and rebirth of yourself as a whole. this could mean a time when you "bounce-back" completely reinvent yourself and come out unrecognizable. also potential for sudden deaths, random events and an increase in wealth or shared resources. this could end a period of celibacy or a time when you lose your V-card! could become famous for anything related to power, money, and sex. (ie: starting an OF, getting an inheritance, investing and getting a huge return)

✨ Pisces 9th house: transformation of spirituality, your knowledge, and higher educational pursuits. could be a time where you finally have the money to go to college, study abroad, or commit to knew avenues of education and spirituality (maybe committing to a religion or belief system). could become famous for your educational pursuits like publishing research.

✨ Pisces 10th house: solidification of your reputation, career, public persona. this is the year that you could become famous for anything really (good or bad). for those who wish to be famous or already are, this is a great year to go after all career goals. your reputation will be solidified (good or bad). career could be Piscean in nature -- music, art, writing, spirituality.

✨ Pisces 11th house: expansion of networks, groups, and achievement of dreams. you could meet your best friends, form life-time connections, and accomplish something online or for the collective. could become famous on a large-scale through your groups in real life or on line. great time for social media users who want a larger fan base, push your work!

✨ Pisces 12th house: expansion of the mind, healing of the subconscious, transformation of subconscious beliefs about yourself, life, others. could be a time when you actively start working on your healing and emotional health (ie: therapy, shadow work) great time to transform or tap into healing practices or monetize them! a lot more intuitive, this can be applied to all areas of life and help you with your interpersonal relationships, business, and family. could become famous for communication of your new beliefs, your healing practices or for your transformation.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

follow @astrobaeza

click here to get a personalized reading <3

[yurinaa-world]

Hii! I really love your work! I was wondering if you could do a Dan Heng, Blade, Jing Yuan and perhaps Welt (if you want) with a Venti reader? (From Genshin Impact of course ^^)

Characters: Dan Heng, Gepard Jing Yuan, and Blade x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: reader that’s like venti

Warnings: Fluff, spelling mistakes

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

You wrote songs for everyone and anyone; what is your reason? Everyone deserves to have a song woven and sung, even Dan Heng’s story, not “his” Dan Feng only. You insult and don’t even have any of the consequences that come from your actions. Example A: You insult someone, and now you have a gun to your head, but! What are you going to do? Duh, poke the bear with a knife.

You’re popular around the galaxy and very popular at every pit stop. People run up to get your autograph or picture. Every bar wants you to perform for them, since having you there will get them thousands and thousands of dollars.

But you really shouldn’t take up the offer of drinking with other people; it never ends well. Whenever you do that, you end up betting or doing something stupid, which has you coming back to him, drunk out of your mind, and 10 dollars away from being broke. Was it worth it? 100% since the alcohol was free.

𝒢𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝐿𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓊

Oh dear… You both together are the first thing in the newspaper since you're both popular, with him being the captain of the Silvermane Guards and you being a 5-star musician, getting booked for so many venues, but especially bars. There are a lot of downsides to doing shows at bars, mostly for him.

Having to pick you up from bars all drunk and unable to even lift your head from the table since you were basically asleep, he’s afraid that you might get hurt while you're drunk since he has to carry you on his back while blushing a little since everyone can see, and the next day that moment is on the newspaper.

You love to make songs about him but never sing them until he shows up to watch; he just blushes while listening to your music, yet while you sing, you keep your eyes on him and only him the entire time.

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

Humor him or humble him with your direct insults (which aren’t really insults), and only you may get away with it since you're together and he’s madly in love with you. You both have something in common. You both influence many people—him with his title and you with your music.

Sneaking away to get the sight of you perform for a whole bunch of drunks, he, of course, is going to stay sober for this moment, watching you like this doesn’t come every day since you're such a shining star, watching you with all his attention on every little detail you do on stage.

But watching you perform isn’t the only thing he’s come here for; you’ve had a bad habit of drinking since the places you perform give you free unlimited drinks since you're their prize guest and they want to come back again to have another show. That doesn’t end well since you come back so drunk. How about he stay with you?

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

You bother him with your songs, and even while he’s resting, you just begin to play with your instrument, and he just looks at you annoyed, 😒 like you are being fr right now He grabs your instrument from you and doesn’t give it back to you, saying sorry, then you're not getting it (doesn’t matter you would get either, even if you say sorry, you're not sorry, he knows your not).

He picks you up when you're drunk, over his shoulder, dizzy and drunk, feeling like you're losing your mind. You couldn’t walk properly because of how out of it you were, but you were laughing and giggling the whole time, teasing and making fun of him, which was so annoying.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[akookminsupporter]

Namjoon gave a good interview to Vogue Spain and in it he said a few things that I thought I'd share with those of you who may not understand Spanish.

This was at the end of the article but I want to write it first:

One thing that needs to be made clear about this album is that, no matter how much the rumour mill is trying to spin it, it is by no means the end of the successful band. "Oh, I'm not leaving BTS. Absolutely not. This is the first time I'm launching a solo project like this, so I'm trying to stand up and take my first steps. But I'm ambitious and I have willpower. So I don't want to miss the opportunity to do both. So I will try my best not to lose control and steer these two ships at the same time. A lot of bands split up and fall apart, but I hope that doesn't happen to BTS. I just love the music, I love my job, I love the band members and I love myself. If I can keep both projects going, I think it can be something legendary in the long run".

Other important parts of the article:

"The k-pop industry hasn't stopped growing since we debuted with BTS [in 2013]. It's become a lot more complex and has brought a lot more people into its structures. I think there are a lot of lights, but also some slippery shadows. Many of us started our careers very early as a group: we slept and lived together as teenagers. We became a real family, which is great, but this culture has also affected me a lot, because sometimes I find it difficult to be treated as an adult who has autonomy in his decisions. I'm perceived as just another cog in the crew, in the context of a mass phenomenon",

Did you ever feel like you were getting completely lost in this delirium of success? "I used to think so, but the funny thing is that I am fully aware that it was my own choice to devote myself to the k-pop industry. Nobody pushed me into it. But yes, I have lost myself at times. Although perhaps saying this is an excess of 'self-empathy'. There is no answer. Except that, if k-pop is about recharging the batteries of a mass audience and I'm responsible for doing that recharging, then I have to keep my feet firmly on the ground. As an adult, as a musician and as a human being. And these ten years of my career have helped me define who I am and learn to love myself. But I'm still in that process, you know? All these internal struggles will be recorded on records and videos," he explains.

"Music is really necessary for the world, but, when it comes to my music, sometimes I feel like I'm producing something unnecessary. If I were to die tonight, I don't think anything would change. It might matter to some people for a while, but a farmer or a street sweeper is more relevant to the functioning of society. When I ask myself about the role of our generation in historical terms, when I look at all the digital platforms and communities out there, I am overcome with confusion. There are a lot of people who don't want to think. They have frenetic lives and turn to music or television to escape, so the last thing they want is someone trying to lecture them from a pedestal. In that context, I wonder how I can make my music matter. I haven't found an answer yet, but I keep trying to bring my own perspective to it.

As to whether he is afraid that the army he has on Instagram (42.4 million followers) might one day turn against him for a silly mistake or a blunder, RM answers bluntly. "Yes, it scares me. It scares me 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. When I was younger I tried to come across as a cool guy who doesn't give a shit what other people think, but I don't think that's right anymore. I care about the publicity dimension of my career and the influence I can have on others. It stresses me out, yes, but I think I can handle it. That's why I don't retire or do things like go out and drink the night away and then drive drunk. I'm human, I can make mistakes, but I will do everything in my power to be the best version of myself. One of the keys is to treat this job for what it is: a job. I don't think artists have any special rights or status.

Note: if you would like me to translate another part of the interview, let me know.

[chemicallady]

Heyyy, would you possibly be able to do a Noah Sebastian story that is like a brothers best friend dynamic? I live eat and breathe this stuff lol

I WANNA FEEL LOVE AGAIN

Couple: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: slight mention of sexual intercorse. Nothing too deep, I'm saving it for next Chapters

Summary:  you're a real mess, your life is turning into a living hell, so your brother Matt convinces you to move in with him in LA and start working for the band he's taking care of

A/N: I dont wanna spoil to much in here, because... Well, you' ll see. English is not my native language and no one peer review this ff. It's gonna be a world of fun, I already know it!

Important! I don't know Noah or Matt or any of the real people portrayed un this story. This is fictional!

Enjoy then 😏

Ouch, I've lost myself again

You've always been around, unseen. Having a brother like Matt could be a blessing and a nightmare in equal parts. You were feeded with stories about gigs and musicians while grow up with your older brother, who is dear to you in a way that actually you cant explain. Matt as always been your twin flame even if you are younger than him. You grew up looking at him with a lot of respect and it broke your heart when he left Texas, moving to California. At the time you werent ready for the big change and your brother's friend were still a bit mysterious to you.

You were used to spend as much time as possible in his company, but with this fresh start for him, you just fell into the ordinary. Nothing against your life, by the way; your parents always supporting, best friends ready to drive you to the closer pub and deliver the best night possible, a lovely boyfriend who adored you in any meaning.

You loved the shit out of Shawn. He was your person, the one always there when you were in need. Your high school sweetheart. Maybe he wasnt your first kiss or your first fuck but he was the one who made you feel like it was worthy, living for someone else. The one who pushed you to improve yourself for your own sake, that helped you in finding a job for the local tattoo shop as a piercer when the school was over.

You did everything in your power to be the best girlfriend possible. You decoreted your shared flat in the warmest way possible. You turned down a good scholarship for that college in Montana, pissing your parents and brother for this lost opportunity. You gave up to your dream to be a writer because he had to stay in Texas and take care of his mom. You helped him through the loss, when she die.

But it wasn't enough.

You loved the shit out of Shawn and he loved you in return, but it wasn't enough.

Your relationship suffered a slow, agonizing death with multiple attempt of reanimation. Vacations togheter, a bigger flat, a cat.

Nothing compensate the distance between the two of you and he was the one brave enough to call it for a quit. You knew was gonna happen but it didn't hurt you less. Moving back to your parents, while quitting your job just to avoid to meet him everyday, took you to the bottom. Then the shutdown decided to kick you while you were already down, spending days in bed just listen music or watching anime whitout any chance to go out with your friends or for just a walk.

Everyone was really worried about you. You lose weight and that energy that always marked you.

And you stayed there, drowing in your own misery until Matt decided that enough was enough.

《 Pack your shit, you're moving in with me to LA. You're done making mom and pops that upset.》

The end of fall 2021 signed your rebirth. Matt found a bigger apartment for the two of you and Lucifurr, your vicious black cat which has an obsession in chewing cables and destroy everything paper made. You have always want to leave nearby the ocean and Malibu had a ton of opportunities to offer you. You started a yoga class the same week you moved, in order to make some new friends. Accoding to Matt, there are a lot of things to do around the band he is working with, Bad Omens.

You offer yourself as a merchgirl, but since you're a good writer an even better in tolerate people bullshit (you have to be karmatic, all the teens who came to get a piercing to the shop have always made a scene in front of needles), you could be perfect as a PR/assistant for the band. You remember them barely because someway somehow, these are the guys who steal all the time Matt has. Time that you never get.

You remember this four guys with long hair, basic metalheads, except for the drummer. You remember when you gave him the nostril after a show in 2015, maybe 16, and he took it like a champ whitout complaining. You remember the singer, this slenderman type of guy with beautiful long hair that looks like silk. You've never felt more envy of someone else hair like that. And also the other three guys were nice, especially Vincent. The only one who you can connect to a familiar face because you two got a nice conversation on tattoos when you visited Matt, three years ago.

They are nice.

You've heard stories about them at every phone call.

But still, thieves of precious moments that you want have again in your life again between you and your brother.

All the missing birthday, all the call postponed due to technical issues. He wasn't there to pick up your pieces when Shawn get a rid of you.

And Matt wasn't supposed to, but being selfish, you wish he was there.

But he is now and this is enough to bring the light back to your life. The long talks after dinner, movie nights, everything is back to the normal between you two since you moved and it's restoring.

With this wave of good mood, even if you havent forgotten Shawn yet, you enroll to gym, so you can work out after yoga.

And is in this specific place that you meet Eric.

The first time you caught him lurking at you you were running on the thremill.

There is something familiar in him but still, you dont know anyone in LA. You were the one who actually landed the first conctact with this new alien subject, so introvert to avoid your eyes.

《 Today is hot as hell, right?》

Talking about the weather is the easiest card to play. He smiled a bit shily to you before answering. 《 Don't tell me, I hate how hot is in here. Are you new? I've never seen you around》

《 I just moved in with my brother, actually. 》

《 You're a southie for sure. I like your accent.》

You giggle at his words, while he gets some confidence, passing a hand through this short hair. 《 you got me. You don't sound californian as well》.

《 Maybe because I'm not》. There was a moment in which he seemed to be doubtful, like he changed his mind and he didn't want actually to talk with you. He looked at you with a weird expression, like he realised something was off. 《 What's your name?》, he asked then, almost suspicious.

And then you lied. You rarely give your real name to strangers. A self defence mechanism for girls. 《 Vanessa. You?》

He looked more relaxed, 《 Eric.》

《 Nice to meet you Eric... Do you know a nice bar around? 》

《 Maybe I know a place 》 he reflected, smiling a bit malicious. He was definitely flirting. 《 Can offer you a beer or something? Just to welcome you in town.》

You are not ready for a new story yet, but after almost a year after you broke up with Shawn, you needed at least some human conctact. Eric was nice with you since the beginning. He invited you to this dive bar after the gym a couple of times, not far from your place. He paid for you a couple of cocktails while having a real nice Conversation. A superficial one, about the tattoos that covered him. About living in LA. You mentioned your brother a couple of times and he talked about his roomates and all the crazy things they have done during the pandemic.

He told you he is a Producer and you told him you're still unemployed.

One way or another, he got closer to you in a matter of days. And when he kissed you, you obliged and kiss him back. One thing leaded to another and the two of you ended fucking in the back of his SUV. And oh boy... you needed it so much. It was a quickie, but he seemed to be promising. His long fingers stimulated you untill you cried out for pleasure. His mounth divoured you inch by inch. And his cock....

He knew how to use it, let's say that.

After, he gave you his number and the two of you planned to see each other by the end of the week, at the gym, after your yoga class and his class of jujitsu....

The morning after you're fresh and relaxed like you weren't in months. Matt tends to be overprotective so you didn't told him about Eric while you were having breakfast. You need to know this guys deeply before accept that you know have a situationship. And your brother doesn't need to know about you screacting you itchies.

He has a hot temper when someone looks at his dear little sis.

After breakfast you got ready to meet the band again after almost three years.

《 I can't believe Vincent quitted. He was the nicest.》

Matt sighs while driving to the guys' house, mentally focused on the traffic. 《 youll see him when we'll be in Virginia, don't worry. 》

Your eyes slip on streets and houses, wards and parks but you still feel like You're in a new country. You don't know how much it will take to get used to California.

《 here we are》 , Matt says, parking. 《 let's refresh the rules.》

《 Oh c'mon, I'm not twelve anymore》

《 y/n 》

《 alright! I don't have to embarrass you while you're free to be mean on me. I don't have to embarrass myself talking shit just because I'm nervous and if the music sucks, I can't tell your precious Noah.》

《 You can do better but, more or less, that's it. Lets go. I need another coffe and maybe something sweet before start to film the music video. 》

It's so weird filming inside a house and not in a proper set but all this low budget bullshit are quite the normal for small bands, you think.

You have to be their assistant and eventually a PR- so Matt can stop to bitching on twitter all the time- and you know nothing about bands.

According to Matt, you're going to learn quick.

According to Matt. You know that he picked you up for the job so he can force you to write what he wants.

And continuing to bitch around through you.

The guitar player greets you at the door and introduces himself again as Jolly. The rest of the guys minus Noah are in the garage. It's marvelous how Orie, one of the guys who lives here, a director, reorganize the space with tubes and flashlight.

《 What's the name of the song, again? 》 you ask to Nick Folio, whos already youre favorite.

《 Artifical Suicide》 it's the answer, while he takes his place back behind the drums.

《So emo》 it's your honest observation that makes him laught. Matt looks at you in a way that if he could, you would be incinerated where you're standing. You're already embarrassing him.

Nice.

You regret nothing.

It's a lil sister job to make her brother in troubles, that's what pops always says.

Mike brings you a coffe that you accept with a smile, than tells everyone the news about the singer that is still not here.

A diva, of course. That's your first thought. Every singer is a natural diva.

《 He is still looking for the glove.》

《 He would lost his head if it wasn't attacked to his neck》 , a solid comment arrives from Ruffilo, immediatly followed by an annoyed reply from behind you.

《 I can ear you motherfucker. You are- what the fuck?》

You turn in time to face the famous singer and almost choke with the coffe.

《 Yo Noah, do you remember my sister, y/n?》

You see Noah turning pale for a second while trying to say something in return.

You're also speechless for a second, before putting your shit togheter so Matt wont finds out in the first five minutes. 《 Howdy! You... you cut your hair. Nice. I didn't know》

You didn't.

That's why was so easy for Noah to be Eric for almost a week. For a hook up with you. His best friend sister.

....Splendid.

You're fucked.

[littlemisslipbalm]

August, honey, you were mine

Josh Kiszka x Fem!reader - Enemies to Lovers College!AU

When originally deciding to be a film and visual arts student, Y/N had thought her biggest issue would be getting a job after college. She hadn’t known that the other people in her major would actually be her greatest obstacle to completing her degree.

So this photo is insane and likely not accurate to the time that this would be set. However, IDC and he looks beautiful.

Separately, here is my College!AU Enemies to Lovers Josh fic... I started working on this over a year ago and really it's silly because I lost the feeling that I wanted him to be mean so maybe it loses steam, idk let me know what yall think pls and reblogs appreciated - lots of love xoxo etc. more to come.

Summary: Forced together by fate or maybe just scheduling, Josh and Y/N can't stand being in the same room together. Unfortunately, with classes and her shifts at the Lover's Inn, it seems that Josh is in her life more than ever. Can hate turn into love or has something been there since the beginning?

Word Count: 13 k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, enemies to lovers, nauseating fluff, SMUT 18+ (specifics below the cut)

oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, edging, mild? dirty talk, female masturbation, i think that's it!

-

When originally deciding to be a film and visual arts student, Y/N had thought her biggest issue would be getting a job after college. She hadn’t known that the other people in her major would actually be her greatest obstacle to completing her degree.

It wasn’t that everyone was annoying. Sure, film students could be a lot, especially for Y/N when she was planning on going into costuming and styling rather than other production aspects. There were just a few overzealous students who seemed to get under her skin more than others. 

Namely, Josh M. Kiszka. He was talented in many respects, begrudgingly she would admit that. However, his annoyances and shortcomings outweighed his talents tenfold. One spark of genius would cause ten pitfalls and plot holes, leaving a forest fire of destruction in his wake. 

His curly hair was disturbingly trimmed leaving a small rat tail at the nape of his neck for the majority of the time she had known him –at the beginning of this year he had finally cut it and seemed to be trying to grow it out but she didn’t care. He was absurd and even disturbing at times. His smile took up too much of his face when he grinned maniacally. And she could go on. 

Now, being in the same major as someone could be irritating at times, but in reality sharing one to two classes a semester shouldn’t be the end of the world. Sometimes it certainly felt like it with Josh since it seemed like he turned everything up to an 11 on purpose. A bursting zipper was a catastrophe, the wrong colored shirt was the work of the devil. But realistically, she only should’ve seen him at most eight hours out of her week – if she could avoid being paired with him for any group projects. She could do eight hours of him droning on about the intricacies of a film and chattering away about his new big idea. 

What she couldn’t do was essentially work for him. And she didn’t work for him. At all. But he certainly seemed to think so every Thursday night. 

The first time Josh Kiszka walked into the green room at Lover’s Inn, the college town's local venue made for serious music and serious drinking, while Y/N was working, she thought it was some sick joke. She chalked it up to the fact that her karma must be god awful and this was her cosmic punishment. 

She had worked there for two years before this, consistently doing backstage work happily for the experience of potentially helping musicians with costuming and styling if they ever took her up on her offer. Mostly, her job consisted of fulfilling riders and babysitting. 

On this fated Thursday, it was raining as the fading summer quickly turned into a blustery fall. The trees faded quickly, changing just as fast as they had blossomed. The biting cold of the rain had soaked her hair so when she burst through the stage right door, a spray of rain flew from her head as she gasped in the warm room temperature air. 

First rain made people drive terribly, making her later than she would’ve liked to set up the things requested by the band tonight. She was slightly bummed that because she was rushing, she might not have a chance to offer her assistance with styling of the new band, but she thought she’d just ask to help them out at a later date since her manager had told her that if they played well tonight they were going to get the recurring Thursday night spot. 

Greta Van Fleet was their name, which she thought was cool, but given their rider, she had a funny feeling that they were probably like most local Michigan bands, mediocre at best, creeps at worst. 

The two cases of beers as well as some strange hippie bullshit snacks gave her the inkling of what to expect. 

The moment she hears her name from a particular voice, a pit of dread opens up in her stomach. She didn’t know exactly why he was here but she knew instantly that tonight was going to be a long, long night. She finished straightening out the tea corner the band had requested and swiveled around to face the curly-haired bastard. The stupid smirk was already on his lips and his eyes were full of the tell-tale mischief that came with Josh. 

“You got a crush on me or something?” He quirks his head with a raise of his eyebrows. “What are you doing here?” 

Josh knew she didn’t have a crush on him. Quite the opposite of it, but he loved to see her get furious with him. It brought him insurmountable joy. 

“Never in your most self-serving, indulgent fantasies,” She seethes and juts a hip and folds her arms across her chest, taking on a defensive stance immediately. “I work here, Josh. What are you doing here?” 

He grins, taking a few more steps into the room before pausing and looking around for a moment. His eyes cast around the worn leather couches, the two rugs mismatched and covering one another, a circular coffee table that had clearly seen too much cocaine in its heyday, and the table filled with snacks and drinks perfectly placed for his band’s amusement, before returning to his classmate staring at him with an appalled but also concerned face. 

“Work, of sorts,” He shrugs, the smile never leaving his face. “Moreso play.” 

She rolls her eyes but feels her breath hitch as Josh crosses the room further, coming extremely close to her. Her eyes widen as he continues to smile at her with an innocence she knew was an act. It doesn’t leave his intensely sculpted face that was unseasonably tanned for Michigan, even if summer had just ended. His hand reaches out to the right of her frame and plucks a fruit snack pack from the basket she had placed them in five minutes prior. 

“Those are for–” 

“The band?” He asks, his head cocked to the side once more, after finishing tearing the bag open with nimble fingers. “Thanks, by the way, lover. You got my favorite brand.” 

The pure joy Josh had just found in seeing her face contort in disgust at the nickname he had just come up with meant it wasn’t going away anytime soon. He thought he was clever for calling her something inaccurate yet also fitting since her place of work was called Lover’s Inn. In his eyes, it was perfect. 

“You’re not…” She trails off seeing the delight in Josh’s features. 

He nods, not taking a step back from her personal space and popping an organic fruit snack into his smug mouth. “I am. The lead singer, actually.” 

She turns back around to remove herself from the close proximity of Josh. “You’re just bullshitting me,” She mutters, shaking her head, refusing to believe him despite her knowing realistically, it was likely true. 

“No –” His next thought, likely one to continue his aggravating crusade, was cut off by someone else’s voice. 

“Josh, y’know you could help with the drum kit, like you’re supposed to,” A younger man with long flowing locks complains as he carries in two bass cases. His hair was damp, but drying, signifying the rain was subsiding. Josh’s hair had given no indication of the weather due to the drying but jarringly yellow umbrella that lay abandoned by the door. 

Once the cases are carefully set down in a corner of the room, he realizes that Josh was not alone. He uses a hand to flip his long hair back from his face and regards the other person in the room, coming to Josh’s side. 

“Hey,” He sticks the same hand out and has a goofily familiar grin on his face. “I’m Sam.” 

She takes his hand, telling him her name while giving his hand a shake before letting go rather quickly, she was confused. 

“You’re in the band,” She confirms to Sam, who nods affirmatively. “And Josh is in it too?” She asks more skeptically. 

“Sure is,” Sam looks at Josh quickly before smiling again, like an all knowing fox. “He likes to act like we’re already famous and don’t have to load our own equipment, but we’ll be lucky to score this gig, Ja–” 

“Okay, Sammy,” Josh cuts the younger boy off. “I’ll come out and help, just, shut the hell up.” 

Y/N quirks her head as she watches them shuffle back out of the same door she had come through twenty minutes prior, watching the way they interact with one another. She goes back to finishing up the table. It looked fine, but she still felt the need to turn all of the fruit snacks so that they were facing forward and make sure the extras of things she had bought were clearly accessible. 

Another younger guy with curlier hair walked in while she was still fussing over the table, a part of a drum kit on his back and a drawstring backpack in his hand. 

“I’m Danny,” He introduces quickly after shuffling off the large equipment bag and placing it on the outside of the green room door that leads to the rest of the venue. “Drummer.” 

She nods and introduces herself once more, directing him to the table of the fulfilled rider items and that she was around to answer any questions that weren’t specifically technical. Her job, after fulfilling the rider, was handling the band before and after they performed, essentially. She attempted to make that more styling and costume related, but in reality she just was there to make sure no one got too hammered before going out on the stage and no one passed out in the green room afterwards. It was a small venue and therefore a small crew but thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about the instruments as well. Just the people. 

When Josh returned to the room through the side door, she was still waiting at the entrance. Her body leaned against the inner frame of the door. It was shut to keep the noise of the rest of the venue out of here, and vice versa. She didn’t want to be in the room any longer than she had to be, but she needed to check off with the entirety of the band. It was to ensure that all of them were here prior to their set and to check in with them about anything else they might need. Now that she knew Josh was in the band, she really wished she could just leave. She certainly was not going to ask about styling, she already had her allotment of fighting over clothing with Josh for the week in class on Tuesday. 

The surprising thing about Josh’s arrival is the second copy of him that appears behind him. Like the first stranger, he had long stringy brown hair and slopey dark brown eyes. Unlike Sam, however, he was literally identical to Josh. One realization came to her silently, Sam was Josh’s little brother, that’s why his grin had been so unnervingly familiar. 

This man, just two steps behind Josh, though, he was more than familiar. He was the spitting image of Josh except for his hair. 

She can’t stop this realization from being audible. As the two of them stand practically side by side as they converse with one another, seeming to almost mirror one another, she blurts out words before she can think twice. 

“Twins!” Her voice sounds overjoyed at the realization that they were identical. There was a hopeful glinting look in her eyes as her hands clasp in front of her and she smiles. The fact that Josh was a pain in her ass is forgotten for a moment because she finds it so interesting and unbelievable that identical twins were standing before her and that she had known one all along without knowing it. 

Josh stops speaking mid-sentence to regard her and he’s surprised by her reaction. The twin looks perplexed as well with a raised left eyebrow. She is wowed once more. 

Josh says her name and hands Danny the rest of his drum kit. “This is my other brother, Jake.” 

“And you’re twins? Identical?” She repeats after Jake waves. 

“I think you know the answer to that,” Josh throws his hands up in a theatric flourish adding to the condescending tone. 

Jake replies far more cordially. “What Josh means to say is, yes we are identical twins. Thanks for noticing.” 

“I’m sorry,” She back tracks, remembering the situation and laughing, still feeling off-kilter. “I’ve known Josh for two unbelievably long years and he’s never mentioned once that he has an identical twin brother that he’s in a band with – and he talks enough for it to have come up at least once.” 

Josh rolls his eyes with a huff of breath, deciding that he wants to continue helping with their equipment and belongings rather than listen to what he was sure was about to turn into a ‘shit on Josh’ situation. 

Jake’s laughter is loud and unadulterated as he crosses the room towards Y/N with the same smile his brothers had, except his didn’t make her want to wring his neck. “He’s always talked too much, I can asure you that. What makes you clearly an unwilling acquaintance of his?” 

The grin on her face feels like it’s taking up the entire room. Already, Josh’s twin was leaps and bounds ahead of him in terms of how much she wanted to be around this person. She also liked his hair, it was long and pretty, maybe it needed a good shampoo and condition but it didn’t have a rat tail, which was the biggest plus in her book. When Josh had returned this school year without it, she had rejoiced but also been slightly dismayed that she hadn’t had the satisfaction of snipping it off herself. On several occasions, she remembered waking up with a triumphant smile after cutting it off in some of her more vivid dreams. She wasn’t completely sure if she could be trusted with scissors around Josh so maybe it was better in the end. 

“We’re the same major, unfortunately.” 

“Oh,” Jake’s voice holds deep understanding. “I’m sure that can be a lot. I used to help out on his films when we were in high school, so I know he’s…passionate.” 

She snorts and shakes her head, acknowledging what he had said before once again remembering she was working. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.” She casts her eyes around the room and sees that the four guys are all in the room. Josh had returned and was trying and failing to look like he wasn’t eavesdropping on her and Jake’s conversation. “Anyways, now that I know you’re all here, I can leave you be. Just let me know if there’s anything you need before your set. The techs will come in around,” She pauses looking at her watch. “7:00 to have y’all go set up and go over that kind of stuff. You need to be out on that stage at 8, no if’s, and’s or but’s. Also, if you do get the recurring slot, I’d love to help y’all with styling if you’d be interested since that’s more my expertise.”

She hears Josh snort at her last sentence but she pointedly ignores it, only looking at the other three band members. 

“How do we find you if we need something?” Sam asks, settling into the darkest brown leather couch like a lanky puppy, all limbs and no idea how to control them gracefully.  

“I, uh,” She stops, realizing she normally handed out her phone number since she hated the radios they were supposed to use. For some reason, giving her number to Josh’s band made her uneasy and then she remembered with a sigh. “Josh has my number from previous group projects, assuming he knows how to use his phone he should be able to give it to you.” 

“What’s your number again?” 

“You don’t have me saved?” She’s exasperated to say the least and a little offended otherwise. They had quite literally been paired in a duo group project their first week of college, two years ago. If he hadn’t saved her number after all this time, she’s sure she would strangle him.

“I think I do,” He looks down at his phone, scrolling through something, “just double checking something.” 

“Give me your phone,” She rolls her eyes and places the palm of her hand out waiting for the weight of Josh’s phone to be felt. She types in her number into the search bar of his contacts. The names dwindle until only ‘August’ pops up. She finishes typing the entire number and the name ‘August’ is still staring back at her on the screen. She looks between the phone and Josh a few times before clicking the name and verifying that it was her phone number. 

“Why the fuck do you have me as ‘August’ in your phone?” 

Josh grins triumphant and satisfied. When she glares at him, he shrugs and plucks the phone back from her grasp. “We met in August, I didn’t remember your name from class and I didn’t bother to ask. By the time I knew it, I couldn’t be bothered to change it.”

“You can’t be serious?” 

“Is Lover better or worse than August? Because I’m willing to change it to that,” He continues looking at her with that wolfish look in his eye. 

“I fucking hate you.” She says with a shake of her head before addressing the rest of the room again. “Well, if any of you three need me, don’t hesitate to find me down the hall or get my number from the gremlin that fronts your band and shoot me a text. Josh, do not bother me.” 

“Only in my dreams, I know, lover.” Josh mimics being shot by an arrow in his heart and stumbles back before winking evilly at her. 

“Right,” She sighs heavily and tries to smile lightly at the other three who offer her sympathetic smiles back. “I’ll be back at 7:45 if no one needs me before then.” 

A chorus of thanks follows her out the door and she ignores Josh’s voice again as she goes. It’s pitched up and honeyed sweet and it makes her sick. 

That was the first night. They had been good. Josh’s voice was surprisingly amazing and the rest of them were talented with their instruments. Jake was especially good on the guitar. She tried to focus on the instruments rather than Josh’s voice but it was almost impossible to listen to just one piece of their music, they all complemented each other so well. Even Josh’s voice didn’t overpower but finished the rest of the music being made. 

They had also been clean and on time. Two things her manager liked even more than a good sounding band that amassed a crowd was a good sounding band that didn’t require a lot of assistance or cleaning up after. Greta Van Fleet secured the recurring Thursday night gig at Lover’s Inn. Which ensured that she got to endure more Josh Kiszka in her life than ever before. 

They would fight in class and bicker during group projects that they got paired for and then to end her week just perfectly, she’d have Josh at her place of work, continuing to push her buttons and attempting to boss her around. 

He delighted in calling her ‘Lover’ and being a nuisance when she was trying to help one of his bandmates. He always had issues with the vests and belts she found for him, despite them being exactly what he asked for, if not better. And he always, always had that stupid smug smirk on his face when he was around her. 

In the middle of the semester, the film and visual arts third years were assigned a very intensive project. It could be alone or in groups but you had to do it all if you did it alone. As luck would have it or maybe it was just a cruel joke being played on her by the rest of the department, she and Josh were the only two not paired up who didn’t want to work alone. She contemplated doing it all on her own, but she knew she wasn’t the strongest writer and with the rest of her classes and the Lover’s Inn gig keeping her busy, she had to swallow her pride. Bite the bullet that was Josh Kiszka now entering another part of her life: her life away from both school and work. 

They had looked at one another with dismay in their eyes. Even Josh couldn’t spin this as a way to torture her, this was genuinely not his ideal scenario for an important project either. They departed class on Wednesday with a sighing compromise that they would talk about it after the gig on Thursday. 

On Thursday, Josh arrived first out of his band mates to the green room. She was there, finishing up unloading the grocery bags and double checking the cleanliness of the room. Even if Josh was a pain in her ass, she didn’t let her negative feelings for him change how she did her job. 

“Well if it isn’t my number one fan, lover!” Josh greets, resting his backpack at the edge of the couch closest to the side stage door. 

She sighed. She rejoiced on the Thursdays when it was one of the others to stroll through the door first, so that she wouldn’t have to be alone with Josh anymore for the week. Bringing herself to face him was hard, she had already seen enough of him this week and after the big announcement in class yesterday, she really could do without hearing his voice. 

“I know you’ve probably heard this a lot before, so you should understand when I say ‘not in the mood’.” 

“Oh lover, you wound me,” He gives her moon eyes before he rolls his eyes and walks around the room, continuing to place his stuff where he liked. The band had been working here for two months now and each of them had gotten into a groove. They had their spots and corners that they liked to chill in until it was time to get to work. 

“Do you want your clothes or not?” She leans into her hip as she stares at him expectantly, waiting for him to stop messing around with the throw blanket’s tassels. 

“I’d certainly go out and perform naked, I’m sure lots of people would thank you for your brilliant idea. Me in my true glory.” 

She scoffs and crosses to her tote bag, dropped by the entrance. She shuffles through it for Josh’s new vest and the belt she found that matched it perfectly. The vest was tan with gold embellishments and looked like it would fit his small frame. The belt was also encrusted with gold broqaue and turquoise stones with a loud engraved buckle to finish it off. 

With the pieces in hand, she crossed to his seat on the couch. Josh had his legs spread in a way that required her to stand between them or else she would have to lean awkwardly forward to give the clothes to him. She hated even the way he sat, making her life harder. He reclined back on the couch with his arms over the back of it, the light blue ratty t-shirt he wore stretched and strained over his biceps the way he was sitting. Her eye flickered to it for a split second in mild surprise, obviously he showed them off in the vests, but they seemed to bulge in their current state. 

“Lay it on me, lover,” He grins lazily up at her, one hand flipping up right and motioning for her to give it to him. 

She shakes her head at him and drops them carelessly on his lap. The belt was heavy enough for him to make a groaning sound. Normally she would walk out of the room at this point, just to get a little bit of time away from Josh. The rest of the band was reliable and she knew they’d all have arrived in the next ten minutes. However, something about Josh’s demeanor made her pause. It was something in the way his eyes looked. 

Normally they were wide and bright with evil intentions. Today they still looked mischievous but a little more droopy, his movements a little less agile. She stares at his face, searching for the answer and noticing the way he just lets her. 

“Finally decided you want some of this action, lover?” Josh mumbles, eyes fluttering closed as he lays his head back against the couch. “Stopped denying your true feelings…” 

She crouches down to be on the same level as Josh, her face getting close to his as she inspects him closely. One of her hands goes to his eyelid, as she leans over him, opening his eye manually. 

“Are you fucking stoned, right now?” 

He swats her hand away from him and sits back up, pushing her back so that she’s still crouched between his legs. His face looms above hers, the lazy grin still visible on his face, as she stares up at him. Their faces are an inch apart and the space is hot in the already warm room. Her eyes widened expectantly. 

“Shh, don’t tell August, she’ll yell at me.” 

“I am…” She pauses, realizing Josh was still fucking with her. She puts a hand to his chest and pushes him back against the couch, causing laughter to bubble from his lips. “Fuck you, Josh.” She states, standing up again and stalking out of the room with a final. “Weed better not fuck up your singing, asshole.” 

“Thanks for the vest, lover!” 

Besides strutting around the stage a bit more sluttily and carrying notes just a tad bit longer than necessary, high Josh functioned about the same as regular Josh. After the show, the band loaded up their gear once more in the back of Danny’s van that they lovingly all called the Greta Van. Normally, Josh would hitch a ride home with him and Sam or hang around the front of house getting sloshed with his twin. Tonight, he begrudgingly sulked around the green room, informing his brothers that he ‘had a meeting with the bosslady.’ 

August had overheard it and rolled her eyes. “We’re unfortunately partnered for an extremely important project. I’m worried I made the wrong choice and should’ve just gone it alone.” 

She grimaced as Jake wished her luck while Sammy and Dan gave her sympathetic gazes, mumbling their condolences. 

“It can only be as bad as we make it, lover.” Josh huffed, resuming his seat from earlier on the larger of the leather couches. 

“Are you sober enough for us to begin planning now?” She glared and folded a leg behind her to take a seat on the far end of the same couch. 

Josh scoffed with a flip of his hand. “Oh c’mon it was just a couple bowls before going on to perform art.” Josh trailed off, mumbling as he stared around the room. 

“Repeat that?” She urged. 

“It’s not like it was the first time,” He repeated louder but still softly. 

She groaned. “God, Josh.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Y’know what? Fuck if I care. Let’s just get our plan laid out so we can go home.” 

Josh nodded curtly. Her eyes flickered to his face in surprise that he didn’t protest. 

“Okay,” She started, speaking cautiously. “I’ll obviously take the lead on costuming and you on writing, but we’ll need to collaborate on directing and creative direction. Do you have any ideas for stories you want to tell?” 

Josh hummed, head falling to the back of the couch in contemplation. “Cults, a modern Greek tragedy, a bar comedy –we could set it right here, erh star-crossed lovers? What about you or are you just gonna keep all your ideas to yourself?” 

“I was waiting to see if you had any worthwhile ideas.” She shrugged, scribbling something down on a notepad Josh hadn’t seen her produce. “The modern take on a Greek tragedy could be interesting…” 

“I also was thinking about something similar with a modern take on a classic film like ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ or something to that extent. I like the idea of a post-college existential crisis coming of age female lead type story but I doubt you’d care for that.” 

“No, no, no,” Josh sat up straight. “Don’t put your assumed misogyny on me! I’d love to do a female lead coming of age post-college existential crisis story! How dare you?” 

She smiled at her page and then up at Josh. “My mistake.” 

Their eyes met and the room felt eerily quiet with both of their mouths shut for once. The dingy yellow lights bathed the room in a homey glow. The worn leather was warm beneath their skin, inviting them to settle in. 

Then simultaneously, they said: “Modern take of a Greek tragedy that is a coming of age post-college female lead story!” 

“Fuck yes!” Y/N rose onto her knees in excitment as Josh’s entire face lit up, leaning forward in excitement.

“Let’s fucking go!” 

They laughed and high fived, feeling an unexpected and unknown emotion of shared understanding and initial accomplishment. They talked plot, characters and logline, the main bones of the project they needed to get started on and split up what each of them would flesh out for their next meeting. It was decided that it would be best to meet after class on Wednesdays rather than Thursdays after shows just so that they didn’t have to hang around Lover’s Inn when it was just the locals in the front of the house and so that Jake didn’t get too lonely when he wanted to drink himself under the bar. 

Josh felt a weird inclination to walk her to her car that night. He knew which car was hers, he always looked for it in the parking lot when he would pull up on Thursdays – a 90s classic black Volvo sedan with a dreamcatcher hanging on the rearview mirror. 

She had regarded Josh oddly when he insisted on walking her over to the car even though the parking lot was empty with plenty of light. Then she noticed again that the lot was empty beside her car and the bartender’s, who was still working. 

“Where’s your car?” 

Josh kicked at a pebble with his sneaker and shrugged his shoulders with his hands stuffed in his khakis pockets. 

She frowned remembering his high state earlier today. At least he was somewhat responsible, but with no foresight. “Did you want a ride?” 

“Nah.” He shook his head vehemently. “I walked in, I can walk out.” 

“Yeah,” She agreed. “But it’s dark out now.”

“It was dark out earlier.” He reasoned with his usual smirk trying to win his way out of this one. 

“Not this dark, not this cold,” She insisted, pushing his shoulder to move towards the passenger’s side door. “And not this late. Get in.” 

In the small interior of the Volvo, Josh took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them together as she cranked the heat and shivered herself before getting her music playing. 

“Thanks,” Josh whispered, grateful. 

“Can’t have you dying on me,” She replied. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she was focused on backing up carefully, twisting around and switching gears, and she barely noticed when she finished her sentence under her breath. “For so many reasons.” 

In the dark of the car, lit only by the moon and streetlamps around, Josh watched her uninterrupted. She sang under the music she had chosen for the drive. A CD that had already been in the reader of Radiohead. 

Josh listened along to the dulcet melancholy voice of Thom Yorke. He likes how she knew all the words but paused every so often to look to Josh for directions.

“Nice house,” she said, turning down the stereo when they arrived. 

Josh shrugged, turning his head from her to the classic Michigan two-story with its basic driveway and porch. Dark wood everywhere and an old tree in the front yard. There were warm lights coming from a few windows in the house and it looked like a home.

“It’s fine. Jake, Sammy and I rent it from a family friend so it’s a good deal.”

“That’s nice.” She feels awkward, making small talk with Josh. 

It’s the antithesis of their usual relationship of bickering and jabbing and avoiding. It’s soft and casual. Warm and inviting in the familiar seats of her car, with her music. Josh kind of seemed at peace in her car. It was unusual, regarding him looking so quiet and calm. 

“Alright.” She breaks the silence.

Josh takes the cue, blinking out of whatever trance was keeping him from taking his leave from her car and getting into his house for the night. 

“Night,” he speaks softly. “Thanks for the ride…and, uh, see you Monday, I guess.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, watching him get out of the car, carefully taking his bag and his new vest and belt into his arms.

She waits for him to get inside before driving off. Still unsure of the feeling in her stomach, she blasts the Radiohead a little louder to drown out her speculations. 

-

By the end of November, they were almost through with the filming portion of their project. Yet it was time for a relatively complicated scene. Well, it shouldn’t have been complicated if the weather had been right but unfortunately they were venturing into true winter in Michigan. 

Josh and Y/N had settled on the tragedy of Hippolytus after attempting the tragedy of Medea but deciding it was too overdone — how many stories of a woman scorned by a man leaving her could we want? Instead, the twist of Hippolytus in the 21st century would allow for an interesting female lead whose story didn’t start because of a man. 

Instead, like Hippolytus, their lead had decided against sex and relationships during college. Josh and Y/N had worried about making it purity porn but decided that they would balance the true story with modernity enough that it would work. 

In the Greek tragedy, the woman interested in Hippolytus killed herself after being rejected by him, however that was another place they would depart. Instead, the counter to the lead would be hurt randomly and there would be a need for the lead to help them. This leads her to pursue psychology and therapy—medicine felt too cliche. But she knew she wanted to help people. Their bond eventually grows to love even though it’s not what she intended. However, both the therapy and the relationship help her find meaning to life, bringing her out of the existential crisis that started the story.

So they were filming the scene where the counter, James, was meant to get hurt. The short film was going to be narrated by a modern Aphrodite so some silliness was injected into it. She was interfering with the lead, Hyacinth, in hopes to persuade her to fall into bed with someone. 

James lived next door and was washing his car, shirtless, when Hyacinth walked out her front door, about to go to gym—another one of her ideas of how to find purpose in life, pushing her body until it had no energy to think. Jason was meant to have gotten soap all over him from leaning across the hood of the car, like a male fantasy but reversed, and then point the hose towards him and wash it all off sexily. Of course, the student they had cast, weirdly also named James, was attractive but he was an angel and an ex-theater kid, so he couldn’t quite get it right and he was beginning to shiver even though they had the water as warm as possible and were covering him up between every take.

Josh was attempting to hold back laughter but after the third bad take, Y/N yelled ‘cut’ and walked into the scene.

“James, here hand me the handle,” she said. 

Taking hold of the metal length at the end of hose that was turned off, she began to instruct James to do exactly what she was showing him. She turned it towards her and held it above her chest with her head tilted back, eyes closed. She sighed for a moment and then briefly moved up as if the water were hitting her face and then ran her free hand against her cheek, allowing her lips to open further and then ran the same hand down the front of her neck, down her chest and her stomach, brushing to the side just as she got to the top of her thighs.

James watched carefully, not phased by the directing. Josh gawked. His eyes almost bugged out of his head watching her and wondering if just maybe that’s what she looked like in a shower. Her soft hands would be running over her soft naked skin instead of her warm winter sweater and jeans, but still. He could imagine. The sudsy soap and bare skin touching the cool tiles and warm water. Fuck. He needed her to never do that again ever. 

The last month he had seen more of Y/N than he had ever thought possible. Except now, he looked forward to it without pretending it was because he wanted to bug her. Josh wanted to know what she was thinking about every aspect of their project and he wanted to hear about her weekend and he wanted to kiss her against the walls in the green room when his brothers weren’t there. He didn’t act on the third thing, but he wanted to.

“Josh?” She raised an eyebrow, still holding the hose above her chest. “Josh?” She repeated.

He blinked. “Huh?”

“I asked if you agreed? Does that fit with an Aphrodite induced sexy car wash scene you imagined?”

He smiled weakly and she tilted her head in silent worry. Hopefully Josh wasn’t getting sick.

Of course it is, doesn’t even need a Greek god to intervene and make it hotter, she just was. 

“Yeah, yep, fantastic,” Josh rushed. “James, you got it? We’re losing light.”

A cloud was rolling in from the east and Josh knew that if they didn’t finish soon they might get rained out.

James nodded and they ran the scene again. The actor nailed it and after Josh yelled cut, Y/N squealed in accomplishment. They high fived and Josh’s eyes linked on the side of her neck where her fingers had brushed as she had caressed herself minutes ago—professionally. 

After that, they wrapped for the day, Josh still concerned about the rain, sending the actors and helpers home. Y/N hung around to help Josh bring his equipment back into his house. They were using the front of it for the scene. On their last trip to grab things from the street, thankfully all non-electronic, the beginning of what would be a long rainstorm began in full force.

This time it was Josh to shriek and Y/N laughed as they ran under the awning of the porch after grabbing everything left as quickly and carefully as possible. It didn’t matter, they were pretty drenched.

She tried to catch her breath from running and laughing while Josh felt his hair with a look of dismay. 

“You know you’re stuck here,” Josh grumbled, looking out at the pouring rain. He hated the way she seemed to enjoy his displeasure at being wet. 

“As long as you’ve got a spare change of clothes, a hot shower and a gas stove in case the power goes out, I’m fine.” She shrugs, pushing the screen door open and putting her half of Josh’s stuff on the entryway bench. 

Josh followed behind with his binder and a few rain-ruined scripts.  

“Anyone else home?” She wanders through the hall to the living room, peeling off her sweater and leaving her boots by the wall. 

Josh shakes his head, “Probably not, it pisses Jake off when I film at the house and Sam usually goes to Danny’s on the weekend.”

She inspects her jeans and t-shirt before looking at Josh. “I want to shower now, can you find me clothes and put them in the bathroom before I get out?”

“Who made you queen?”

“This isn’t Lover’s Inn, I’m not on the clock and I’m your guest who’s trapped here…feel like you’re supposed to dote on me.” 

Josh rolled his eyes, feeling the memory of their feud flickering like an ember in the pit of his stomach. He wants to tease her, say something biting to turn the tables on her. But she was right, they weren’t in any of the situations they were usually in with one another. More uncharted territory. 

“You’re annoying,” he offered lamely. 

She chuckled and pushed at his shoulder lightly as he passed, assuredly showing her to the bathroom. “Try harder, lover.”

Josh scoffed without turning his head around, but the feeling in his stomach grew as he heard her feet padding behind him. The rain was loud on the tall roof, fast and foreboding. It might’ve been adding to Josh’s unease. 

At the end of this new hallway, there were three doors. One to a bedroom, Josh’s, a closet and the bathroom. He opened the closet to grab fresh towels he kept for when he didn’t want to do laundry that week and walked them into the bathroom.

It was surprisingly clean but Josh had his own bathroom, forcing Jake and Sam to share the other one, claiming he was the oldest so he got the most privacy. 

She smiled at the tub. “Should I have a soak instead? Do you have any good wine?”

“This is not a fucking hotel,” Josh laughed. He handed her the towels and she gave him a pointed look. “But I’ll open a bottle.”

“Good boy,” She continued to smirk. “Maybe I’ll leave a nice tip.” 

Josh pinkened slightly. She’d never been like this before. He felt like he was falling into some world where Aphrodite really was fucking with his life. 

15 minutes later, Josh returned to the bathroom where Y/N was showering and pushed the door open. She had music playing but he could hear the water still running. 

He walked in and placed the sweatshirt and clean boxers on the counter. Her wet clothes were in a puddle on the floor beside the shower mat and he swallowed. A pretty pink lace thong and a black lacy bra laid atop her top and jeans. He took a breath and went to head for the door, turning away from the clothes. But Y/N’s own breath caught his attention. 

Her grunge 90s music was playing from her phone but she was breathing hard and Josh stopped short. His eyes shot to the shower curtain. The place he had been avoiding with all his power. It was sheer. Her silhouette was hard to see but it looked like it was writhing. He saw one of her hands slipping around her chest and he bit his lip. She was certainly squeezing her tits and she was breathing hard and he couldn’t see her other hand.

He put his own hand to his mouth to stop any shocked sounds slipping out. She must have forgotten that he was coming back. When he saw her silhouette drop to the floor of the tub, Josh snapped out of his trance.

He grabbed the clothes and slipped out the door, closing it as quietly as possible just as he heard a breathy ‘fuck’ he would dream about for weeks. 

“Shit,” he whispered to himself. Letting his head fall against the now closed door, he took a deep centering breath before knocking loudly. “I’m leaving your clothes out here, kay? Gonna open that wine.”

Her voice was normal in response and Josh was wondering if he had just hallucinated. Had he accidentally taken a gummy and forgotten. Seemed unlikely since he usually wouldn’t when he was working on film stuff. 

“Sounds good! Thanks, Josh!” 

Josh tried to be normal when she came into his room in his clothes, rubbing his towel through her wet hair. He’d left the wine and two mismatched glasses on his bedside table. He mumbled that she could start without him as he passed her to jump in the shower himself.

On the fogged main mirror, she had written, “don’t work when it’s about to rain!” 

Josh smiled to himself and stripped down out of his clothes that were still uncomfortably wet. His shower was much quicker and much colder. He couldn’t allow himself to be in there for very long or else he would’ve started to fantasize about what he was certain had just happened in here. 

In his room, Y/N sat on his bed, taking large sips of the red wine Josh had found. She was nervous. Something about this storm was making her uneasy. The scene they had shot had done something to her. Everytime she looked at Josh, she swore he was eyefucking her and that made her feel strange. Extremely turned on. She had thought dealing with it in the shower would’ve solved it but the minute she walked out and saw Josh looking so sullen, still in his rain-soaked clothes sans his jacket, waiting for her to get out, she felt wet again. If anything, the quick wank had made it worse. Already slick and wanting, she wasn’t sure if she could handle being around just Josh for the night. 

Now that they were friends, she couldn’t deny how attractive he was. God, it made her roll her eyes. He was talented and attractive and she was sitting in his bed, drinking his wine in his comfy clothes all at her request. 

If it couldn’t get any worse, Josh walked into his room with his towel hanging around his hips and his chest speckled with droplets coming down from his hair. 

“Didn’t have time to dry off?” She tilted her head, trying to sound casual. Unbothered when she was fully, terribly, bothered. 

Josh shook his head, making more droplets fly around the room. “Forgot my own clothes.” He shuffled through his myriad of t-shirts and grabbed a gray one with a Buddhist symbol and black sweatpants. 

“You sound like you need a drink,” she tried. 

“Yes,” Josh sighed as if he was coming out of a desert with no water. He held his hand out and she quickly poured the second glass and placed it in his waiting hand.

Their fingers brushed and both of them pulled back as if they’d been burned. She met Josh’s widened, brown eyes looking dark in his navy room that was shadowed by the storm and his one yellow lamp. He clutched carefully to his towel and the clothes under his arm with the wine in his other hand, taking a long sip as he turned on his heel and returned to the bathroom. 

She let her head hit the headboard of Josh’s bed. What the fuck was going on? She took another sip of her wine and then refilled the glass up high. 

When Josh returned clothed, he sat on the foot of the bed and she silently refilled his glass when she saw it was already empty. 

“So…what do you want to do?” She tries while folding her legs up under her chin. 

Josh’s eyes flicker to the movement and get stuck on her legs for a moment before returning to her face. 

“Movie?”

She shrugs, looking around his room for a television. “I don’t want to sit in your living room, your couch looks uncomfortable.”

“That’s where you’re sleeping if you can’t get home tonight,” Josh scoffs. 

She arches an eyebrow and takes a sip of her wine. “I’ll sleep in Jake’s bed, he won’t mind.”

“No.” Josh stated flatly.

Her eyes turn back to him, cautiously. “Why not?” 

“It’s weird.”

“No it’s not.” She sounds annoyed, placing her wine down and picking up her phone. “I’ll just text him and ask.” 

The text sends and she smirks at Josh pointedly. Shortly after, a loud crash of thunder signals the power leaving for the rest of the storm and with it, the phone signals. 

Josh smirks triumphantly over his glass when Y/N throws her phone dejectedly on the side table too, while he flicks on his battery powered lamp he had grabbed earlier as a precaution. 

“Couch it is.”

She lays sideways along the top of Josh’s bed and hums, raising her hands above her head, allowing the bottom of the sweater to lift and expose her stomach. Feeling perfectly buzzed from the wine, she sighs, “I don’t know, this feels pretty comfy and I’m already settled. Maybe you should sleep on the couch since you love it so much.” 

Josh watched her body extending across his bed and simultaneously wanted her there forever and to throw her out. 

“Absolutely not. This is my house.”

“And I’m the guest,” she repeats. “C’mon lover, don’t be mean.” 

“You’ve never seen mean,” Josh rolls his eyes and finishes his wine, laying it with hers on the table.

She laughs, outrageously loud. “You’re a lot of things, Josh. But I don’t think you’ve got a truly mean bone in your body or however that cliche goes. Evil sure, but that’s different.” 

She hasn’t bothered to sit up and she’s enjoying the tone of voice Josh is slipping into and everything feels quite nice and warm. So warm. She shuts her eyes. 

“No, no,” Josh hurries, moving himself so that he is closer to her. He pats her cheek lightly. “No falling asleep in my bed. Not allowed.”

“But I’m so comfy and cozy,” She croons, blinking her eyes back open. The smirk on her face gives her away. 

“C’mon.” Josh takes her shoulders to push her upright. “Sit up.”

She laughs, but it dies out, recognizing the proximity of Josh’s face to hers. How his body is hovering over hers. How warm she is. “Fuck,” she whispers, staring at his lips, slightly stained from the wine.

“What?” Josh whispers back, realizing the same things as her. How soft the smallest bit of her skin is against his finger that’s on her shoulder, slipping along the collar of the sweater. 

“Your lips are red,” she states. 

Josh grins and lets his head fall between them with a laugh. “So are yours.”

He looks back at her and remembers the way she sounded in the bathroom. All the years he’d known her. All their fights. And how they weren’t really fighting anymore. How he teased her at Lover’s Inn and how good she’d been as his partner this last month and a half. 

“What are we going to do with no power, August,” Josh whispered, already inching his face closer to hers. 

She smiled and let her hands reach up to cup his face and neck. “Read the Bible by candlelight?” She whispered back as Josh’s nose nudged against hers.

He breathed a laugh across her lips and her breath caught in her throat when he finally attached his lips to hers. They kissed softly, just taking it in. Josh shifted them into a more comfortable position, one leg slotting between hers, while the other supported him so his torso wasn’t fully on her. 

She whimpered immediately at the pressure and Josh smirked. He pressed harder, licking into her mouth. 

She gasped when Josh began to kiss her neck and he spoke against her neck in between sucking against the skin. “I heard you.” 

“W-what?” She was staring at the ceiling while she ran one hand against his shoulder and the other through his hair. 

“I. Heard. You.” Josh repeated, allowing one of his hands to run under the sweater up towards her breast and she whimpered again. “Fuck,” he loved the way she sounded. “In the shower, lover.” 

Her eyes shot wider, the haze of Josh’s lavishing touch disappeared with shame. “You did?”

Josh pulled back with a lazy grin, still playing with one of her nipples under her shirt and pecks her lips quickly. 

“Yeah you fuckin’ told me to bring your clothes in because you’re a princess apparently and then you were in there getting off when I walked in.” 

She felt embarrassed but remembered what was likely about to happen so it didn’t really matter. “Oh…I tried to deal with it quietly. I was just really turned on for some reason.” 

Josh scoffed and retreated his hand from under her sweater. “C’mon,” he gestured to the sweater. 

They were still acting like film partners through this interaction. Or at least how they acted. Talking casually while in the beginning of a sexual encounter. 

She took it off and threw it to the ground while staring pointedly at Josh’s shirt. He followed suit before kissing her again. His chest looked so soft and warm, she wanted to be wrapped up in him.

“First, I almost had a heart attack at the sight of your thong and then I turned to leave and you’re in there playing with this thing.” He pauses his words, slipping his hand inside the boxers she was wearing, cupping her pussy. 

She whines, extending her neck to kiss Josh’s. Feeling the need to touch more of him. He grins down at her again and kisses the space between her tits. 

His hand rubbed ever so slightly over her mound without actually doing anything, but she felt the slightest friction and the pooling of her wetness. She grabbed at one of her tits. 

“The curtain’s not opaque, August,” he continues and she groans at the nickname at a time like this. His middle finger slipped lower, hovering over her slit. He looked her in the eyes again. “I saw you writhing around your own little fingers. What’s it gonna look like when it’s mine your pretty pussy is wrapped around?”

She moaned at his words, throwing her head back against the pillows. 

“Is it pretty? I bet it’s pretty.” Josh continued his special version of torture. She could feel his fingers but they weren’t doing anything she wanted them to. Every so often he planted a kiss on her torso. Of course he liked to tease by talking forever and ever. 

“Take off the boxers and find out,” She tries not to sound impatient. 

“Great idea!” Josh patronizes, slipping his hand out of the boxers completely and moving to take off the boxers.

She huffs. 

“Don’t act spoiled,” Josh admonishes, returning his hand back to where it was while his other cups her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes again. He looks like an angel like this but so sure of himself. She’s amazed and completely at his will. “I know she already got to cum once under this roof.” He tsked, tapping his middle finger against her entrance. It was the lightest pat but she was so wet that Josh’s finger got a little of her slick nonetheless.

She moaned at the change in sensation, her hips dipping down in some instinctual attempt at getting him to slip inside. 

“God, you are needy.” He removed his hands again and laughed when she huffed again. Both hands moved to her knees and pushed them to be bent and then apart, moving his body between them. His hands then went to her breasts, squeezing them and pinching tenderly at her nipples. Her hips bucked again and Josh kissed her again. “It’s gonna feel so good when I finally touch you where you want,” He offered, kissing her sweetly. 

Pulling away he began to suck on her chest, continuing his monologue. “You were holding this perfect tit in one hand and rubbing your wet pussy with the other, right?”

She nodded when he looked to her for a response. 

“I left when I saw you drop to your knees like some cock hungry whore…” Coming from someone else it would’ve sounded cruel, but from Josh’s lips it was the softest sweetest accusation in the world. His voice was honey and it only made her want him more. Maybe she was a cock hungry whore, for Josh. 

Josh’s right hand returns to her pussy, cupping it like before and she’s sure she’s about to leak onto his palm. 

“You’re leaking, princess,” Josh informs her, confirming her suspicion. “Do you like me talking mean to you? Why’d you drop to your knees in my bathroom, August? C’mon you can tell me.”

“I,” She starts. Josh chooses then to slip the tip of his finger inside of her. 

“Yes?”

“I was about to c-cum and you have that, fucking, detachable showerhead…”

Josh thrust his finger fully inside her and she moaned, relieved but not much better. Now she felt herself quickly working up to another orgasm. He thrust his finger carefully, thinking over his response while trying to hold himself together now that he’d felt how warm and tight she was inside. 

“Used my showerhead to get off in my shower. Touching these pretty tits, riding your own hand and now you’re laid out all perfect for me.” He added a finger and her hips began to move with his movements. “You are a little slut, aren’t you?”

She hums in agreement, one hand hanging onto Josh’s neck and another gripping her tit like her life depended on it. 

“And you’re gonna cum again already? Fuck,” Josh sounded amazed. In awe of how sexy Y/N was, how willing and lovely she was, how she was perfect for him. “Go on.”

She came immediately, having held off for so long, trying to hold it for Josh despite how much he’d teased her. 

After she rode it out, Josh removed his fingers and gave them a lick. Humming his satisfaction. She breathed heavily watching him, but wanting more. Seeing from the bulge in Josh’s sweatpants she knew he wanted more as well. 

“Fuck me, Josh.” She sat up on her elbows beckoning him closer. 

“Did you forget who’s in charge?” He laughed, but it was soft. They were still themselves. 

She widened her legs and pouted, dropping her hand to her pussy, carefully circling her puffy clit. 

“Need it, Josh.” She rocked her hips. “I think you need it too.” She hummed, looking pointedly at his straining cock.

Josh shook his head and crawled over her again, pushing her hand away from her clit. She took up the job of pushing down his sweatpants and boxers simultaneously. 

“Next time, I wanna see you dropping to your knees like the cockslut we now know you are.” Josh breaths, losing track of his train of thought with the feel of her soft hand gripping the base of him gently. 

“Next time could be later tonight…” She whispered back, connecting their lips again. “Or tomorrow.”

Josh groans, at her words and the feeling of her slipping the head of his cock through her slick. He resisted pressing in immediately, feeling her rubbing it back and forth from her entrance to her needy clit. He bit her lip and she moaned. 

“I would’ve fucked you months ago if I knew that getting you wet was all it took to make you all sweet and nice.” He grunted. 

His hips thrusting on their own accord caused his head to slip against her clit in a way that made her moan loudly. She tightened her grip on his cock and Josh’s hips moved back.

“I wouldn’t be rude to the girl who’s about to let you hit, lover.” 

She nudged Josh’s head into her entrance and they sighed in tandem. Her hands went up to his shoulders from under his arms. Josh dropped his face into her neck, overwhelmed by the warmth and softness. They began moving at a steady clip. Her legs wrapped around Josh until he started thrusting harder and faster. 

“Fuck,” she whined. “That feels so fucking good. Don’t stop.”

Josh had begun to sweat. He shifted one of her legs to balance one of his hands and then moved his other to the headboard and she moaned loudly adoring the stretch.

“‘M close,” He strained. His eyes were constantly shifting between her bouncing tits, his cock disappearing in her and her face and the expressions she was making. “You’re so wet.”

“Cum,” she breathed. Her fingers slipped down to her clit again, rubbing furiously. 

Her walls tightened at the added stimulation and Josh was cumming. Hot and sticky inside her. He panted hard, collapsing on her with a wet kiss against her mouth. His cock had made even more of a mess of her, leaking out of her full, throbbing cunt. 

Josh watched it. Entranced as he pulled out once more and twitched when Y/N moaned at the sensation, her eyes shut in pleasure. 

“I’ll clean you up,” Josh nodded to himself before disappearing. 

Less than 10 minutes later, the pair were cleaned up and wrapped up with water in Josh’s bed. Side by side. 

-

They saw each other in class on Monday and Wednesday after their shoot and impromptu sleepover on Saturday that had run into Sunday, but they acted like nothing had happened. Or like it was completely normal. Which they both liked. They had been cordial upon waking up wrapped around each other on Sunday morning, but Y/N had made a quick exit, citing a myriad of reasons why she needed to go home now that the storm had passed. She even declined coffee. 

It was Thursday, at Lover’s Inn, when the events of Saturday night became hard to ignore. 

Josh didn’t show up first which she was grateful for. Jake sauntered in with his guitar case, his small but impressive pedal board and a few wrapped up cords over his shoulder. She smiled and they exchanged pleasantries as she shuffled around their table. Everything was ready, but she couldn’t stop herself from reorganizing things. 

“Do you need a beer?” Jake asks after a tense 10 minutes of silence. 

She laughs and flips around from the table, slumping against it. “Honestly, yeah.” 

Jake lifts his mouth into a half-smile, nodding to the table. “You can have one of mine and I’ll steal one of my brothers.” 

“How chivalrous,” She smiles, disarmed by Jake’s nature. She grabs two beers and the bottle opener from the table before crossing to him and handing over one beer to him, followed by the opener. 

They click the necks together and take an appreciative sip. 

“What’s got you flustered?” Jake asks. 

“I don’t know,” She sighs, rubbing at her forehead, knowing exactly why. 

Sam, Danny and Josh file through the side door while Y/N attempts to come up with a reason for her to be stressed. Jake watches her carefully, but her eyes immediately shoot to the sound of the door opening and their voices. 

Josh scans the scene of Jake and Y/N on the two couches, sipping on beers, alone. His nose flares momentarily before setting down his piece of the drum kit and saunters to the couch, sitting beside Jake. 

“Your turn,” Josh says, nodding to the door so that Jake will go help with the rest of their stuff. 

Jake rolls his eyes and takes another swig of his beer before huffily standing up and walking outside. Josh eyes Y/N sitting silently across from him and takes a swif from his brother’s beer. 

“I’m assuming he offered his share and then is planning to drink an extra of one of ours.” 

She chuckles nervously, eyes shifting away from Josh and around the room. “You guys know each other well.” 

“Brothers. Twins.” He shrugs, still watching her intently. 

She discards her half-empty beer and stands, bee-lining for her bag. “I’ve got new stuff for you guys.” 

Josh rolls his eyes, but feels a little bug of worry squirming in. The insecurity he had felt on Sunday had vanished with how normal they had been in class, but this made him feel like something was certainly off. 

“Here,” She places the vest and medallion necklace she’d found for Josh beside his head on the back of the couch. “And here’s this for you, Danny.” She turned from Josh before he could even thank her, handing Danny a tank style shirt she thought he’d like. Sam received a flowy floral button down while Jake got a fringe leather jacket that she had been searching for all semester for him. 

Jake beamed, his eyes shiny and his smile taking over his entire face. She smiled back at him, trying to fully feel the gratitude he was giving her. She watched as he tried it on and spread his arms in the mirror, admiring the movement. 

“This is going to be so fuckin’ sick,” He laughed, slightly in disbelief, touching over the jacket constantly. “I can’t thank you enough, Y/N.” 

She blushed a bit, feeling everyone’s eyes on her, especially Josh’s from his place on the couch. He was holding his vest in his lap, sullen that he had never thanked her so profusely for the things she found him. 

“It’s my dream job–and if you guys ever get famous, I’ll make you real stage outfits. However you want.” Jake’s giddy energy was overpowering her nerves. It felt great. 

The green room was a fun atmosphere for the rest of the hour leading up to their set. Josh pushed himself out of his pining and focused on the revelry. But before the band was about to go on, Josh hung back, leaving him alone with Y/N. 

She saw him stall at the door, his hand catching the frame. His vest was tan suede tonight, with silver pieces swirling into pockets on the front and creating a pattern across his back. He turned around and she paused, once more at the table, beginning to clean up wrappers. 

“I wanted to say thank you for all the vests and stuff you’ve found me this semester, August.” 

She watched Josh cross the room to her. “It’s nothing. Like I said, dream job.” 

Josh pressed closer and threaded his hand through her hair. His breath was warm against her skin. She finally met his eyes. 

“I miss you.” 

“You’ve seen me all week.” 

Josh’s forehead drops against hers, his free hand coming to her waist. It’s hot and firm and she feels the breath leave her lungs. Her body presses closer to him. 

“Not what I meant.” 

“Josh…” She wants to kiss him so bad. Wants him to kiss her. Her hands are grasping at his forearms in a way she hopes isn’t too desparate. “You’ve got a show to play.” 

His hand moves slowly from her waist across her stomach to the center of her jean skirt. His fingers fiddle with the button, slipping them below the waistband, feeling more fabric. 

“It’s a shame.” His breathing was heavy. His nose kept nudging hers. 

She licked her lips and swallowed. 

“Really wish you weren’t wearing tights,” He murmurs before pressing a hot kiss to her lips. 

Before she can really feel him against her, he’s pulling away and snapping the black lycra that he had wiggled his finger into against her skin. A sharp gasp sounds and he’s walking out the door to the stage, looking far too much like a rockstar than she’d like. After a few moments of attempting to collect herself, she leaves the trash to be dealt with later and follows Josh to see the start of the show. 

This show was electric. Everyone was playing their best. Jake was rocking with his guitar so much that the fringe flew around, making the crowd of college-aged women the band had amassed go wild. Josh was strutting around the stage, raising his arms as he hit notes and dancing with Jake every so often. 

Jake tried to convince the manager to let Sam and Danny into the front of house. ‘It’s not like they don’t have IDs that say they’re old enough,’ he reasoned conspiratorially. He was over the moon and he wanted everyone to celebrate since winter break was coming up and their show would be taking a rest for a while. Her manager relented, but Josh almost crushed his twin’s soul when he said he needed to go home to work on editing. 

Sam and Danny’s exuberance at being able to drink at the bar overpowered Jake’s protestations to Josh, leaving Y/N and Josh alone in the green room once more. He smirked with great satisfaction as he shrugged the vest from his shoulders and began to pull his t-shirt back over his head. 

“Where were we?” He saunters back over and she’s happy to see regular Josh instead of the rockstar Josh who had ambushed her earlier. 

Yet, she remembered him. And she remembered his performance tonight. How low his pants were slung around his hips. A pair of tight black vinyl pants she had found him about a month ago. His happy trail had meandered down to disappear beneath the fabric she had chosen for him. Now, he was straining against those pants and she shut her eyes, coming to terms with what she was about to do. 

“It’s your turn, Josh.” She meets him in the middle of the room, backing him up against the arm of the bigger leather couch. She caged him in for a moment, looking him up and down. Josh’s eyes were wide in surprise. “Sit on the couch.” 

He is a bit confused, but doesn’t argue, shuffling to sit down as quickly as possible. 

“Eager, huh?” 

“Now who’s being mean?” 

She grins and walks to stand in front of Josh, dropping to her knees with quiet ease and practice. Josh immediately throws his head back, sinking lower into the chair. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Didn’t want to leave you hanging,” She smiled. Running her hands over the tops of Josh’s vinyl clad thighs. “I could see it while you were on stage. At least,” She paused to chuckle. “More than usual.”

Josh sighed, eyes fluttering open to stare at her between his legs again. She was so beautiful even when she smiled at him so wickedly. 

“Want your cock in my mouth, Josh?” 

“Fuck, Y/N,” Josh couldn’t take the teasing of her hands and her words. 

“Just say ‘please’.” She stared at Josh seriously. Her hands toying with the button and zipper of his pants now, brushing just over his hardening length. 

“Please, please, fucking please.” He rushed out. 

She laughed and shook her head. “God, fine. Relax.” 

Her hands expertly unhooked the button and slid the zipper down with practiced hands of a costumer. This was far more explicit than any of the other times she had undressed someone. Josh’s cock was hot and heavy in her hand and her core ached at the memory of where it had been almost a week ago. She ran her tongue against it and Josh groaned. 

She lavished his head with a few kisses and looked up at Josh, beginning to suck on the side of it. “So pretty,” She murmurs. 

Josh’s hips bucked in response, his hand going to rest in her hair, but careful not to guide her. He wanted to see what she did. She gathered a pool of spit to let fall onto his thick cock before languidly running her hand over the length, hoping to tease him a little more. She hadn’t forgotten the treatment he gave her on Saturday. Josh’s hips bucked again and he groaned her name. 

Taking his head fully in between her lips, she took pity on him. Beginning her descent, she attempted to get him all in her throat but had about a handful left when he hit the back of her throat. She hummed around him and he jerked in her throat, causing her to fall back. She massaged her lips around the place where his head met the shaft before trying again. One hand on his thigh and one beneath his shirt, she bobbed her head slowly, suctioning occasionally until Josh was hissing about being close again. 

She pulled off him and smiled at him from her position. Her lips were wet with saliva and precum. Josh’s eyes were half closed in pleasure but he couldn’t believe the look on her face. Breathing heavy, flushed from taking him down her throat. Her hand moved along his length faster. 

“Tell me when,” She murmured, eyes moving from Josh’s face to her movements around him. 

Josh nodded, trying to stay still. Overwhelmed. “Now.” 

Her lips reattached to his head, sucking a little harder, while her hand still worked near the base. Josh’s hips bucked in time with the spurts that hit the back of her throat and she clenched around nothing, wishing more than anything that she was brave enough to attempt penetrative sex in public. 

She pulled off and swallowed, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth with a tired sigh. Josh’s satisfied smile watched her in awe, tucking himself away after a few moments of heavy panting. 

“Jesus Christ,” Josh breathed, petting at her hair before bringing her to kiss his lips. “Thank you. Wow. Just… so talented.”

“Josh Kiszka not having the right words,” She smiled against his lips. She pulled away and ruffled his hair. “I must be good.” 

Josh sputtered, jumping to his feet and following her to the side of the door where she was grabbing her coat and extra stuff. 

“Do you need a ride home again?” 

Josh scratched at the back of his neck. “Uh, I guess. Can’t really go out there and tell ‘em I need their keys when I was supposed to have left 20 minutes ago. Plus they’re probably expecting me to come pick them up eventually so I need my car for that.” 

“Josh,” She stopped his rambling. Her hand pressed flat against his upper chest, bringing his eyes to hers. “Relax. My jaw’s too tired to give you another stress relieving head session.” 

Josh shut up and nodded. She smiled, pleased with herself. They grabbed their stuff and headed for her Volvo after she locked the green room door. 

“Driving you home like you’re my little bitch,” She stated half-way through the drive she now knew without directions. 

“Shut up.” Josh sounded annoyed but really he was smiling, staring out at the passing streets. 

When they pull up to his house, Josh pauses. “Do you wanna come in?” 

“Can’t tonight. See you soon though.” 

She kisses his lips tenderly, cupping his strong jaw in a way neither of them had ever expected. 

-

Mid December and the semester was over. Their short film was a success. It was the last Thursday Greta Van Fleet would be performing at Lover’s Inn until the new year. Josh and Y/N hadn’t had time to talk about them with the rush of finals and getting the film in in time for screening. There had been stolen kisses during late final cut editing nights and in the empty hallways of the film building, but nothing else. 

Josh had arrived with Y/N, helping her set up so that she could be done early and they could have alone time before the rest of the band started to arrive. They were so excited to be done with everything, so pleased with themselves, that they were hurriedly making out against the snack table, unable to keep their hands off of one another a moment longer. 

So wrapped up in one another, exchanging words of teasing and searing lips against soft skin, they don’t hear Danny and Jake walking in.

With Y/N pressed against the table, Jake and Danny get an eyeful of her hands on Josh, one on his waist pulling him closer and the other grabbing at his right jean-clad ass cheek.

Danny whistling loudly and Jake clapping his hands together leisurely cause them to spring apart. Josh spins around, flushed and out of breath while Y/N adjusts the top of her shirt that Josh had pushed to the side for more access to her skin. 

“About time,” Jake says with a happy smile, stalking to place down his guitar case. 

Danny laughs and Sam walks in shortly behind them, silent for a moment, appraising the situation before understanding and exclaiming: “To the happy couple!”

Josh groans at his brothers’ smug looks before smiling. She laughs, hiding her head behind Josh’s shoulder in mild embarrassment. Everyone cheers and it feels silly that they ever detested being in the same room as one another. 

During their final performance, Josh waxes eloquent about his wondrous time he’s spent on this very stage. He thanks everyone and then pauses, searching the audience for Y/N. 

“Now this next one goes out to my lover,” He says as he winks. “You know who you are!” 

The crowd goes wild and a softer than usual guitar riff comes in from Jake’s playing. 

“August, honey / Tasted sweeter with you / Sticky fingers / From your own residue,” He sang.

Jake got to kick up the guitar. The three guys even sang the little backing ‘ooh’s into their mics that were rarely used. 

“We don’t talk about it / We don’t have the time / We thought love was something / We weren’t meant to find.”

Josh’s voice is a perfect fit for the cover, she thinks it sounds even better than the original. 

“But don’t you remember / August, honey, you were mine!”

It hurts her heart to realize why her name was ‘August’ in Josh’s phone and not for the asshole-ish reason he had originally told her. Sure, they’d met in August three years ago, that was still true, but she’d also mentioned this song to him. When they’d first been paired up freshman year, he had asked her what the song was that was paused on her phone when he handed it back after typing in his number. Always being scatterbrained, especially at 18, he must have written it over her name…And it was ‘August’. 

-

[meowzfordayz]

WYD Now?

Author’s Note: lil angsty tidbits. Heh. 💔

WYD Now?

Kamado Tanjirou x Reader, Kanroji Mitsuri x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader, Uzui Tengen x Reader

Word Count: ~1,600

CW: explicit language, musician!Reader

Song Inspo: WYD Now? by Sadie Jean

~faqs~

I know it wasn’t really you though, ‘cause you were always in the front row.

Your heart stutters as your eyes glaze over his maroon shadowed eyes, mussy hair familiar as always, his slender nose crinkled under the scrutiny of your shock. Inhale. Exhale. Tanjirou? His head tilts, lips curving into a shy smile, disbelief glittering in his teeth. No, not Tanjirou. You blink quickly, a fleeting second passing, an entire weight of heartache settling faster than it rose. Focus. Of course it isn’t Tanjirou. How could it be? His eyes are too sharp, hair too thin, and that shy smile… Tanjirou was never shy with his affection. Never timid about letting you into his world. Even after you’d opened your own door instead, and walked through it without him, he’d waited. Waited for you to turn around and ask him, “Well, are you coming or not?” Waited for you to spot him at every show, for you to hold his hand on the car ride home, for you to slowly forget how it felt to fall asleep curled into his side, his lingering heat a faint memory now as the screaming and cheering of your name nudged him aside. Tanjirou. Always happy to make room for you. To listen to you. To you and your music. Your music. Perhaps you think wryly The cost was too high. After all… had he really lost you, or did you lose sight of him?

They’re never gonna be like you though, you set the bar above the moon.

You didn’t think you had a type, until you found yourself looking for him in everyone else. Looking for his loud laughter on a busy Friday evening. For his unmistakable, fiery hair on a somber, rainy Tuesday — something to brighten your way forward. For his soft, large hands, and how gently they grasped your hips. How carefully they guided you through crowded rooms and tiring events. For his gleaming eyes, grounding you when you threatened to float away, chord progressions and basslines melting your ability to take care of yourself, to get enough sleep, to eat enough food, to hydrate throughout the long days. Throughout the even longer nights. Really, you hadn’t thought at all. Hadn’t thought about how much you relied on him, trusted him, took him for granted, until his laughter dissipated, hair disappeared from the warmth of your shoulder, hands stopped reaching for you, eyes no longer sought your tired circles. He would’ve stayed. If you’d thought to ask. If you’d realized he was halfway to leaving. Halfway to gone. But you didn’t think. Didn’t think about how he’d hung the moon for you, or about how you wouldn’t be able to let anyone else take it down. 

And still in my head about seventeen in my bedroom talkin’.

“You know I’ll follow you anywhere.”

Smiling softly, you kiss Mitsuri’s cheek in response, your fingers intertwined as you sit on your bed, laptops, notebooks, a handful of pens, and lots and lots and lots of snacks scattered across your comforter.

“I’m serious,” she murmurs, voice quieter than usual, pink hair tucked behind her ear, “I know you have big ambitions, I know you make beautiful music, and I… I just want to bask in your shadow.”

Eyes widening, you squeeze her hand, almost too firmly, tone firm as you avoid her gaze, “Mitsuri, you will not bask in my shadow. If I cast a shadow, then you’re the light that warms and dissolves me once more. How could you resign yourself to following me?”

“It’s not a choice of resignation!” she protests, frowning now, “I didn’t mean it like that! I just- I love you, and I want to support you. No matter what!”

You scoff, lips pursing in frustration, “Well you should set some boundaries for yourself.”

“I was only trying to compliment you!”

Sighing lowly, you exhale slowly, grip relaxing as you kiss her cheek again, heart fluttering as heat returns to her face.

“I know, Mitsuri. I know. I don’t want you to follow me, is all. I want you to walk beside me.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, “I want to walk beside you too.”

“In that case, just keep holding my hand, okay?”

—

Even now, you find yourself squeezing your hand into a saddened, empty fist; an unintentional pre-show ritual. A reminder of the shadow you cast. Of the sun that’s no longer yours to bear.

I know you said that I could call you, I wonder if you wanna call too.

“Hey. Uh. I know it’s been ages. I don’t actually know why. You know what. Ah fuck. Shit. I hate this. Can I get a redo? Haha. I mean, of this voicemail. Not our. Gaaah. You couldn’t have just picked up the phone and spared me the embarrassment of talking to myself for thirty seconds? I miss you.”

—

He listens to your voicemail day after day, too worn down to call you back, but not worn out enough to delete it. He knows a text would be quicker. Painless. Maybe even crack open the door that he could’ve sworn you’d slammed shut. In his face. Until, y’know, you’d called him. And he’d missed it. Missed your call because he’d been walking the same mindless path you’d walked together as kids. When we were younger. He hadn’t brought his phone because you hadn’t had phones back then. Hadn’t had phones or fancy music equipment or record deals or. Damn it. He wants to hate you. Wants to hate himself for not being enough. Not being what you needed, let alone what you deserved. He understands now that music didn’t steal you away from him, nor did you willingly leave him behind. He’d done that. Stolen himself away, then convinced himself that you’d left him. How can I compare?! he’d shouted — the only time he’d ever shouted at you. You don’t you’d whispered And you don’t need to. Giyuu, all I need is you.

—

“... sorry I took so long to return your call.”

In your faded t-shirt that I’ve kept this long, I still hear you laughin’ when I put it on.

“What’s so funny?” you huff, arms crossed, scowling petulantly.

“You just-” Tengen gasps, “It’s-”, struggling to breathe between chuckles, “It’s so big on you!”

Eyes rolling, you stick out your tongue, glaring pointedly, “But I’m cute, right?”

“The cutest,” he grins, clutching his chest, “Absolutely dashing.”

“I thought guys liked it when their partners wore their clothes,” you mutter, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“I do!” he exclaims, hands waving frantically to dispel your doubts,  “I like it a lot!” nose scrunching as he nearly dissolves into giggles again, “But it is oversized on you.”

“Well I’m keeping it,” you grumble, burying your nose into its softness, “S’my favorite shirt of yours.”

It’s my favorite too he thinks as he watches you adoringly My favorite person wearing my favorite shirt.

“What are you smiling about now?” you snap exasperatedly, “Do I still look ridiculous?!”

“Of course,” he replies simply, “I love you.”

—

He wonders if you still have it, if you still wear it, if he’d still fall in love with you if he ever got to see you put it on again. Who am I kidding? he sighs, turning onto his other side, sleep eluding him as it always does — as it always does when he knows you’re performing in his city. In your city. You never stopped falling in love he snorts at himself, eyes squeezing tightly. Little does he know you wear his shirt for every show in the city, wondering if he knows and is too hurt to understand (to understand that you still choose him)... or if he’s too hurt to even know.

You’re still everything I want.

I still love you Sanemi nearly messages you, daily, every day, every damn hour, cursing himself for being such a coward. Surely they’d be dating someone else by now, if they didn’t still love me too? He recognizes the delusion of his despair, the franticness of his obsession, but it’s hard to let you go. It’s hard to forget growing up with, and then growing away from, the only person he’s ever kissed. The only person he’s ever imagined growing old and tired, growing old and happy with. It doesn’t help that you continue to message him. Happy birthdays, happy holidays; painful reminders that he chose to step back from the limelight, unwilling to let you step back with him. I can play smaller gigs, Nemi you’d offered I can make us work. And he’d hated it. Hated that you could do this, that you could do that, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t handle the attention, nor could he handle watching you surrender your dreams for him. But I can handle this he scoffs, dutifully waiting for your Instagram live to start I can handle supporting you from a distance. As if you didn’t know his alternate account. As if you didn’t schedule your main events and interactions with fans around his schedule. As if you didn’t call his brother every so often, maintaining your relationships with those around him in case he ever stopped breaking his own heart — far away enough that you’d never hear it. As if that could stop you from knowing.

—

4:17AM Sanemi: I still love you.

8AM [y/n]: Wow

8:01AM [y/n]: I hope you got some sleep

12:49PM [y/n]: I miss you

12:52PM [y/n]: I still love you too, btw

12:55PM [y/n]: So you can stop leaving me on read

1:18PM [y/n]: Asshole

[nockfellblues]

Integra with a partner who is an artist (painter/ singer/ all around performer) :D

Yes! I’ve always envisioned Integra as a lover of the arts- especially traditional art? She seems like she’d enjoy a peaceful trip to an art gallery or museum. Sorry for the delay on this one, between work, the Summer games showcases and being sick I didnt do much besides veg out whenever i was free this week lmao Anyways! Have some Integra being soft because, dammit, she deserves it 😤

Warnings: None

Integra definitely reworks her entire study so there’s room for her SO to work in the same space as her

Artist!SO will get a whole art corner with a beautiful custom easel and comfy desk space right next to the windows for optimal lighting and an inspiring view- whatever they need to spark and stoke their creative process

Would immediately say no if her SO asked her to model but secretly is super flattered. If they draw or paint her anyways, she’ll pretend to be annoyed but will cherish the hell out of it- They’ll find the work later tucked away in a safe place, framed safely so it wont smudge or crack.

Keeps a portfolio hidden in her desk of sketches her SO deemed not good enough and meant to toss. Alucard and Seras have caught onto this and actively keep an eye out for other loose drawings- they sneak them into her study between paperwork and folders like a fun little surprise. Seras finds her reactions soo sweet- its so hard to not say anything when she sees Integras eyes soften at the half-hearted sketch! So cute!

Integra finds the sounds of sketching comforting- that little scratchy noise as her SO absently hums to themself is like catharsis, especially when she’s dealing with a lot of stress

If her SO is sighing or muttering, having a tough time with conceptualizing something or is going through art block of some kind? She does get a little annoyed with it, but she understands.

Sets her work aside and comes up behind her SO to wrap her arms around their shoulders from behind. “If you sigh at it anymore im going to toss that canvas out the window. What’s the matter, love?” She means this entirely lovingly, but will absolutely do it.

Musician!SO would absolutely have a space in her study too- She’d move offices to a whole different room if the acoustics are good enough, she doesn’t care.

Maybe not the biggest fan of hearing her SO practicing a new peice of complex work- the repetition of practicing the same sections over and over to perfect them would get on her nerves after so long.

“Love, I adore you, but if you play that part one more time i’m going to lose it. Please, play literally anything else.” She means this with the utmost love and care, but hearing the same section over and over is killing her.

Adores when they play free form compositions. Just starting with a generally familiar melody and letting the music develop a life of its own? She could listen to them for hours. She will listen to them for hours.

Definitely will lose track of time listening to them play- Sometimes gets a little too distracted and zones out to the melody when she’s working on a particularly boring bit of paperwork. Before she knows it, its nearly dusk and she’s gotten little to nothing done. Honestly? worth it.

She cherishes her SOs hands so, so much. She knows how much of their passion is dependent on them and how devastating their loss or degradation could be.

In quiet moments Integra will softly trace the callouses on their hands, massaging their palms and wrists, setting a gentle kiss to the back of their knuckles- absolute reverence for the beautiful hands that can create so much that she loves.

Integra being soft with an SO makes my brain go fuzzy- I just want her to be happy dammit 😭

[midnightinwales]

@grapesnolives thank you for the link, I'll check it out during the weekend. I agree that their experimentation is always beautiful and fascinating to hear. They had singular sensitivity to the emotion – sound axis. And you can never be bored with it.

I've moved us to a new post, since our conversation is veering off the topic of the original post and I think we've hijacked enough of that already ;)

Unfortunately, I don't have the source for that quote about Robert, as I have been consuming a lot (and I mean A LOT) about LZ in the past few months, but in quite a chaotic manner and I haven't been taking notes. But If I come across it again, I'll send it to you. I was also surprised by it, but I guess it makes sense, since it was originally Jimmy's band and I believe that as time went by and Jimmy was losing his grip on reality more and more, Robert might have felt constricted a bit or started to develop a need for more independence. Nothing unusual in that, it happens in pretty much any band. He might have also been genuinely annoyed at the endless solos, quite like Bonzo, and JPJ probably too. I mean, to make a six and a half minutes long song into 45 minutes is both amazing and unnecessary lol. And Robert did have a bit of an imposter syndrome, still has, actually. He often spoke about them as 'three musicians and me'. 'I'm just a wedding singer who sang with musicians', and how his elaborate singing style developed as a method to stay in the song, cause the long musical intervals made him feel irrelevant. He definitely wanted to impress Jimmy and there was a lot of reverence for him as the worldly, knowledgeable, experienced musician who created his own band. But that began to disappear when Jimmy got heavily into heroin imo and definitely lost after 1977. Robert's priorities changed. His view of life changed. The love was still there, but Jimmy was no longer someone that Robert had to live up to, so to speak. Now he was someone to protect (and, in a way, someone to mourn). But the initial experiences formed Robert as a singer, set his standards and informed his view of musical expression.

I've also noticed that he makes fun of Bonzo (the diarrhea jokes will live with me forever, thanks Bob :/ ) and JPJ (and himself, occasionally), but not of Jimmy. IMO that's because he and Bonzo were 'bros', mates, and that's typical friendly behaviour in this kind of relation. JPJ was also a guy in the band and concert is entertainment, so it's only fair to make people laugh. It created a sense of dynamics, each band member had his quirks and image to play with. But with Jimmy he is only ever sweet and attentive. Not least because Jimmy Page can't take a joke imo. He's quite fragile and Robert knew it very, very well. But this doesn't read to me as reverential, but rather as caring. He knew not to make Jimmy the centre of attention that he might not see as entirely friendly. And his mysterious image had to be uphold too. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but whenever Robert speaks to Jimmy his tone of voice slightly changes. It becomes softer and warmer. ‘is it alright, love?’ kind of thing. He definitely wanted to be in Jimmy’s good books and for more than one reason.

I’m not surprised you thought they were a duet, seeing the photos. I recall seeing photos of LZ throughout my life and they’ve always been focused on J and R. I didn’t know what the other band members looked like before I started listening to the band. I knew Bonzo’s name because of his tragic death, like I do many other musicians’ who met their ends way too early, and knew that he is recognised as one of the, if not the greatest rock drummer of all times. But that was about it. IMO, he is the greatest of them all and he’s the only one whose drumming makes me genuinely tear up. There is as much emotion in Bonzo’s drumming as there is in Robert’s singing. Astonishing.

If you’re asking how I got into the story of J and R, it was quite simple really. I remembered the photos I’ve mentioned (mostly the WLL mic in the hair singing) which have always looked very suggestive to me and had heard before that part of the magic of LZ was the interplay between the two, and so when I finally got into their music I started doing my research to see if my initial impression was correct. And found plenty of evidence to confirm it, some of it much more straightforward then expected. But if you’re asking how I got into LZ then I’d say it was time for them to come into my life. One night on YT they appeared on my list and the journey began. I knew some of their songs before (STH, WLL, Dazed, a couple of others) and I had quite an emotional experience listening to Stairway as a young teenager, but that was the extent of it. I firmly believe that music comes to us at the right time and there’s no point in forcing it. It will find you if it’s meant to. And it will be a journey you’ll never forget.

Have you always been interested in drumming or is it the first time when it has captured your attention so much? Have you been into LZ for a long time?

[spicyclover]

I hear a symphony

Summary: I used to hear a simple song                  That was until you came along                  Now in its place is something new                  I hear it when I look at you

Lyrics of I hear a Symphony by Cody Fry. 

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

Saying you left him speechless is a small word. When he saw you, he thought he had a vision. A hallucination of beauty. Your beauty. He was entirely disturbed by it. He couldn’t even phrase it. He looked at you with his eyes wide open and his cheeks blushing. Embarrassed to see you staring at him, your eyes on him and no one else.

Your lips were smiling and giving him butterflies in the stomach. He couldn’t get rid of it until you left. This feeling of being as light as air and as heavy as earth. At the end of the day, you reached the port, and you left like that, without a look, without a word, just with a part of his heart.

It’s crazy to think that meeting you made sense of something he never really understood. Love at first sight. A rare phenomenon that happens only once in a person's life. It's like adding words to a song. To make a raw score, a magnificent symphony. That’s it! That’s what you are. A symphony.

You are a harmonious set of things that fit perfectly, a symphony of notes, a symphony of colours, a symphony of you. 

When he came home that night, the first thing Charles did was play the piano. To play you. Externalize that emotion, that music, and make him lose it through the notes. Only when the score is finished can he finally find peace to sleep and dream about you? You invaded his thoughts, his being, his dreams. He watched you invade his life, even if you don’t know each other.

The memories of your eyes, your smile, and your smell often returned to him during the few weeks following your last meeting.

You met him one night at his house with some mutual friends. Charles watched you all night, waiting for the right time to come and talk to you. His words are stuck in the back of his throat, making it even harder for him to come and talk to you. It’s even more embarrassing when your voice spoke to him, and he didn’t know what to say. Hearing your words come out of your beautiful pink lips made him lose all his means. And you didn’t even realize it. He ended up babbling on the couch, blushing heavily.

To feel your words addressed to him makes him feel important. You have that look. That look makes him lose his bearings. When your eyes look at him, it’s like he’s become the center of your universe for a few minutes.

Only when you stepped out onto the apartment balcony did he have the courage to join you. You raised your eyes to him. In the dark of the night, he can see the stars in your eyes.

No words were shared, just gestures.

You slowly grabbed his neck and kissed his lips.

At that moment, Charles lost the connection with his brain. Only the whirlwind of emotions remains in his body. Feeling your lips on his is like eating your favourite cake, and you can’t help but moan in ecstasy.

The kiss quickly became languorous.

Charles' hands are on your hips as you stroke his hair. He slams you against the wall. Sending an electric shock through your entire body, Charles no longer has control of his body, and he rubs you. To feel closer, more intimate.

A few minutes later, you catch your breath away from him. Lust all over your face, eyes and mouth.

You smirk, gently kissing him before returning inside with this other. Leaving Charles behind, wondering what just happened.

That night, you took his broken melody and made something new. He was never a great artist, but knowing these notes are for you. He wants to become a musician so you can listen to his songs repeatedly while you invade his being with these symphonies.

It took him a long time to recover from your kiss. Never in his entire life did he think he was so bewitched. You met several times alone, enjoying each other’s presence without many conversations. Enjoying the silence in the presence of both. Touching the other with your palms.

And then.

One day.

You disappeared.

Without a trace. 

Like you never existed.

Like you were just the fruit of his imagination. 

A hallucination. 

A vision. 

And his melody broke.

[autiezo]

The idea of Emo Teen Jean Vicquemare lives rent-free in my head

[It comes from @slonechnik 's DE AU where Harry's still a gym teacher and Kim has to go undercover as one of Harry's new students, for an RCM case. JV's 15, so Kim's 24 and Harry's 25]

It's so fucking funny picturing Jean V. trying to talk to Undercover Cop Kim. I'm gonna strive to make JV such a cringy loser. BTW, I think emo kids are cool, but not Jean lmao.

Anyways, here's a list of JV emo teen headcanons (below the cut):

- Nicknames himself “The Dark Mare”, based on his surname Vicquemare (reference to in-game Narrator's incorrect pronunciation of his French surname)

- No one used to respect Jean or call him by his preferred ‘title’, calling him “Jelly Boy” instead. That is, until the Hex incident happened. Jean finds that any student using his actual name, ‘Jean’, is disrespectful; unless he gives them exclusive permission, then that means he really likes that person. He also loathes being called by his initials and all of Harry's nicknames for him (e.g. Mean Vicky, J.V., Emo emo emo, King Void.)

- If Jean is late for gym class, Harry will jokingly and loudly mimick an alarm that goes, "Emo emo emo" to announce the teen's arrival. Jean a.k.a The Dark Mare obviously hates this. In Harry's defense, HDB does this specific alarm thing for all the regular latecomers. Every student has their unique, mocking call.

- JV hates Harry with a burning passion, despite the man genuinely wanting to support him. JV also does everything to weasel out of group sports.

- When he was 13, he used to get bullied and shoved in lockers a lot. So he has learnt how to pick locks from the inside and outside.

- He has also stabbed his bullies with a sharpened metal fork before, to the point where he made them bleed. Thrice. Harry helped him to prevent JV from getting expelled. Jean did bite his bullies several times, and has bitten Harry before. Harry laughed it off and said, “Son, you can bite me anytime if it helps you relieve stress. You have my permission, I don’t mind”. Which appalled Jean, so he doesn’t bite Harry anymore.

- This is the Hex incident. One day, Cuno's uncle (Kubo) stole Jean's diary and tried to read it out loud to everyone, but J.V. used big words Kubo doesn’t understand, so only part of JV’s secrets got out. J.V. got mocked severely, and Kubo + his gang of idiots ripped JV’s diary into several pieces. Jean yelled that he’d curse them all.

The next day, Kubo got into a car accident, which resulted in him never being able to play football again. Someone’s parents divorced. The gang proceeded to lose at football against the girls' team three times in a row. They begged Harry to talk to J.V. so he did. After much of Harry’s pestering, J.V. reveals that his curses didn’t actually work since curses are specific and they didn’t do what Jean commanded. Jean refused to tell Harry his secrets and said he just wanted everyone to leave him alone. And so, a deal was struck, and everyone stopped being mean to Jean, but people avoided him a ton. Rumours did spread, so many students really did believe that if they upset Jean, they’d be cursed.

- Jean actually has great parents and an ideal emotional support system outside of school lmao. Loser.

- Does actually get decent grades in school. He advanced two years in education

- makes his own emo music and song lyrics. Gave up on his music dreams after studying Literature and Music in community college, when he realised that being an outsider musician won't support himself financially. At age 21, he became a cop and joined the RCM at the same time as Harry (HAHAHAAHAHA)

- Has a lil gay baby crush on Kim but would never admit it to himself. He's also terrible at hiding it. Kim is the only ‘student’ he'd allow to call him by his real name.

- Secretly loves disco music but pretends to hate it. Will subconsciously bob his head up and down to disco music slightly if it plays for long enough.

- Has two pet cats he adores and drops the emo/cool guy facade for. JV pretends and boasts to everyone that he actually wants a pet snake instead, but he's a fuxking LIAR

- Has a chronic need and desire to seem 'cool' whenever people are around(except his family)

[ecargmura]

Paradox Live The Animation Episode 4 Review - BAE Ga Neomu Apeo (BAE Is Really Hurting)

What’s this? The BAE depression episode? Yep, it seems to be that way. Very ‘BAE apeo’ indeed (This is a pun because BAE is their group name. BAE is slang for Baby, but in Korean, it’s a word that can either mean ‘boat’, ‘pear’ or ‘stomach’; the word I used for the pun means stomach. Apeo means ‘hurts/it hurts’ in Korean; Bae apeo means ‘my stomach hurts’ in technicality, but since this group’s name is BAE, I made it so that it means ‘BAE is hurting’—haha, all that time learning Korean in my childhood paid off). Puns aside, I am surprised Bae gets another focus episode this soon when Akan Yatsura has yet to take the main spotlight; I was expecting AKYR to be the focus too.

Also, the way the competition is formatted seems a bit confusing. Despite BAE winning against cozmez and TCW losing against AKYR, BAE and TCW were up against each other. Is this a round robin sort of tournament? If anyone who’s familiar with Paradox Live, please explain this to me.

This episode is about BAE vs TCW, but we don’t hear any songs from them. Instead, it’s Hajun being a shit towards the “enemy”, so Ryu retaliates back by being a shit to him, albeit unconsciously. After this, the rest of the episode gets pretty gloomy as Hajun, Allen and Anne decide to talk about their traumas that trigger their trap reactions in hopes that it will solidify their friendship and help get to know each other even better.

All of their traumas have one thing in common: terrible parents. Allen’s issues stem from his parents grooming him into becoming a prodigal classical musician when he wants to be a hip hop musician. Anne’s issues are due to their mother wanting them to become her perfect prince; this flashback reveals that Anne is biologically male, but sees themselves genderless. Hajun’s issues trace back to his childhood where he was adopted into the Yeon conglomerate as an heir, but when his parents were able to conceive a biological child, they send him away now that they don’t need him anymore. They all have something in common, which is something they’re able to bond over now that they know what bothers them. But still, having controlling parents must be terrible. I’m grateful that my parents are supportive of my dream of being a writer and being a bookworm in general; in fact, despite them being Asian, they were always supportive of the dreams I had for the future when I was younger. All I want is to hug all three BAE members.

I have to say, the bond between Allen and Hajun seems very deep. They met when Hajun decided to shield him from the rain. It makes me wonder if they had been classmates before or something since Hajun was willing to share his umbrella. It seems as if Allen and Hajun met and then they met Anne later on. Allen’s emotional speech really got to me. I can tell he really cares about Hajun. Also, his voice actor’s English is amazing. I’m not sure if Gakuto Kajiwara had lived abroad before, but that English pronunciation is AMAZING. Ayumu Murase’s Korean pronunciation isn’t perfect, but it’s good enough. The way he said “jenjang” (S***) was a bit eh, but when he said “gomawoyo” (thank you), it was a lot better. I guess it all really depends on deliverance because it’s hard to spew out a word you’re not familiar with really fast and in anger too.

Since it was a BAE episode, TCW doesn’t get too much focus. I did feel bad when Hajun called their music expired. Like, I love you Hajun, but please stop being a shit towards the cute family. While getting called dated did rile them up, TCW decides to try their best with the competition because they want to keep the bar afloat.

It sucks that no new songs have been featured in this episode. I do wonder who won in this match up. I guess it’ll be revealed next episode. I believe AKYR will be the stars of next week’s episode as the episode title was shrouded in yellow, which is their color. I can’t wait since I’m super curious about them. What are your thoughts about this episode? And with that, I’ll see myself out for that bad pun.

[free-for-all-fics]

Phantom of the Opera (1943 Film) Prompts! Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these ideas and I’d love to read it! 🎭🧡

1. Erique Claudin was madly in love with you in his younger years. He was a very handsome and eccentric man with a great talent for music. You soon became lovers and later told Erique you were with child as soon as the doctor confirmed it. Not wishing your baby to be a bastard and raised out of wedlock, you and Erique made plans to marry as soon as possible, before your stomach could possibly give you away. You later bore a beautiful daughter, Christine. Erique had composed a song for you during your courtship and later added a part for Christine after her birth. When she was little, Erique would play the violin while you’d rock her to sleep and sing an old lullaby that you both knew from Provence.

Unfortunately, you died when Christine was still very young, devastating Erique. He didn’t know what to do without you. You were dead and he was clueless when it came to raising a girl all by himself. Due to his demanding job in the Opera House Orchestra and your untimely death, he didn’t have the proper means to take care of Christine, who was only a baby or toddler at the time. He couldn’t raise her himself, so he either sent her to live with your family or put her up for adoption. Either way, he made sure she went to a good home. Whether it was your maiden name or her adoptive family’s name, she took the name DuBois and never knew of Erique’s true connection to her.

As she grew up, she resembled you more and more each day. Erique never found another love after you. Twenty years of you being gone, and he wished every day you were still with him. When Christine began her singing career as a chorus girl in the Opera, he put his entire fortune towards her education, anonymously funding her singing lessons. She was blessed with the gift of her mother’s voice and every time Erique heard her sing, he heard you. After he’s dismissed from the Orchestra due to his hand injury, he has to withdraw his support from Mademoiselle DuBois only for a little while, just until he can secure another position. But a series of tragic events lead to him committing murder and his face being burned by acid. A man who’s suffered so much loss would do practically anything for the love of his daughter, even kidnap her and try to force her to stay with him in his home in the underground sewers forever. Christine is the last vestige of you, his darling wife, and he can’t bear to lose her.

He tells Christine that he’s her father and he loves her. She’ll now sing all she wants, but only for him. He keeps a portrait of you in his lair and tells Christine all about her dearly departed mother as he reminisces on his much happier memories of being an aspiring musician. He was young and didn’t have much money or commercial success yet, a starving artist. But what little money he had would always be spent on a ticket to the theatre, just to see you. He was in love with you from the moment he first saw you on stage, so his earnings were well spent in his eyes. He could live without food or a roof over his head, but he couldn’t live without you.

“She was in a repertory company. the same actors and actresses doing different plays, a different play every night. First time I saw her, she was a singer who had a broken heart, a lot of sad songs. Had everybody in the theatre crying, whole ocean of tears.”

“I don't think I'd like that.”

“Yes, you would. Everybody did. Next night, she was a dancer. Whirling around the stage, sparkles in her hair, lighter than thistledown. Took my breath away just to watch her.”

“Dressed like that?”

“Yes, child. Artist didn't paint her as pretty as she was.”

“Did you see all her plays?”

“Every one of them. Not just once. The theatre was my courting place. I sat right in the middle of the front row every night, where she could see me. After, I went backstage. Was four days before she even said hello.”

“Oh. Then what?”

“Then it was the wonder, the glory, sunshine, and lightning all at the same time. After we learned we were expecting you, I came to the Paris Opera House to join the Orchestra. With my salary, I built us a house. I then went back and asked her to be my wife. When she said yes, I was so happy I was dumbstruck for an hour.”

“Why did she go away?”

“It's none of your business why.”

“I'm sorry.”

“She tried to retire and stay home to focus her energy on raising you, but there was nothing here but the house...No theatre, no people...no company except for the birds singing. As much as she loved you, she wasn't used to it. I didn’t get home from the Opera House until late in the night. She got the lonesomes so bad she couldn't stand it. Uh...she went away for a little...back on the stage again.”

“In Paris?”

“Ohh...other places. Mostly Paris. Uh, standing around here talking, the spiders will be gaining on me. Be cobwebs in here thicker than before. Come, sit. Listen while I play for you. Did you know I wrote this song?”

“No.”

“I did. That’s why I wanted to teach it to you, but it was not to be. These aren’t just notes, there’s something hidden in the music. These notes here, they represent you. They find their way into every song I play. This phrase…this is your mother.”

“Are you in the song?”

“Somewhere, but it’s not important. You and your mama are all I can hear when I sit down to play.”

2. Erique becomes creepily obsessed with you, a young woman who works in the Opera House and reminds him of Christine’s mother. He may or may not have been able to marry Christine’s mother, but he loved her greatly all the same. He tragically lost her either through her death or her falling out of love with him, and has since never been able to get over her. You encountered him a few times in the foyer, on the stage, or outside the Opera, but that’s all. You were so busy with your daily work that you didn’t have much time to acknowledge him beyond a polite hello in passing. Erique was deeply offended and driven into taking further action with you after being criticized by Signor Ferretti for his love of you. He believed that Ferretti spoke out of turn and dared to insult not just him, but you as well.

“Claudin, if you don’t mind me saying so, you’re a fool. A man of your age might secure a young girl like her if he happened to be the director of an opera company, but a poor violinist…”

How dare he doubt your love or the piano concerto he wrote for you! He may be a man of forty-eight years and past his prime, but you never treated him differently from other men just because of your significant age gap. You smiled at him in passing, happily accepted all of his courting gifts which he spent a fraction of his fortune on, etc. It was Signor Ferretti who was the fool for failing to see how deeply he loved you and how you loved him in return! Unbeknownst to Erique, you mistakenly thought his anonymous gifts were from another potential suitor, a handsome man who was closer to your age. You’ve never thought of Erique in such a way, but he’s too delusional in his fantasies of you to realize this. He secretly has a marble bust made in your likeness that he keeps in his room so he may gaze upon your lovely face while he’s composing. But soon the marble bust isn’t enough. He needs to have the real thing.

Following his first act of murder and tragic disfigurement from the acid, he begins his reign of terror as the Phantom. He steals the master key to the Opera House and, with that key in his possession, he can open 2,500 doors! To say nothing of thousands of closets and cabinets. He can hide everywhere, the entire police force couldn’t find him here. He unlocks your door and sneaks into your bedroom while you sleep. You’re in such a deep slumber that you barely stir while he strokes your cheek, moves your hair out of your face, and presses his nose against your skin to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume. Oh, his love! His wife! He leaves you with a brisk kiss and disappears back into the sewers. He has such big plans for you! Wonderful plans!

You start to notice a man’s shadow following you, but it always disappears before anyone else can see him. You start to hear a man’s voice speaking through the walls. From what he says, he sounds lovesick and it creeps you out. You try to warn others but no one else believes you except Vercheres. You develop insomnia and deep feelings of paranoia because of your fear and anxiety. When an opportune moment presents itself, Erique kidnaps you and takes you to his underground lair in the sewers, drugging you to ensure your cooperation. While you’re asleep, he puts a wedding ring on your finger and a matching one on his own. His young bride is a vision! So very beautiful, so very lovely!

“You’ll stay here with me, my wife, won’t you? It’s been so lonely without you but you’ve returned to me at last, haven’t you? We’ll be together forever. Now you’ll sing for me, and I’ll play. It’s beautiful down there. Beautiful. Come now, my darling one.”

“There's a piano in the Opera foyer. Let's go there. You play, and I'll sing for you.”

“But you don't understand. We can't go back there ever. It was I who made the chandelier fall. I for you, my love. But I warned them. I told them there'd be death and destruction if they didn't let you sing. Come. See? Didn't I tell you it was beautiful? You didn't know we had a lake all to ourselves, did you? They've poisoned your mind against me. That's why you're afraid. Look at our lake, dearest. You'll love it here when you get used to the dark. And you'll love the dark, too. It's friendly and peaceful. It brings rest and relief from pain. It's right under the Opera. The music comes down in the darkness, distills it, cleanses it of the suffering that made it. And it's all beauty. And life here is like a resurrection.”

He forces you to play along with his deluded fantasies, often believing you’re his lost love and calling you by her name. You’ve tried to tell him you weren’t her, and sometimes it works. In his moments of lucidity, he calls you by your real name. Those hours or days are much more bearable for you. Other times, however, his behavior is unpredictable and trying to break him out of his fantasies has yielded disastrous results that have frightened you terribly. You’ve had to tread very carefully not to set him off because his personality can flip at any moment. Claudin as the Phantom talks in an extremely gentle, husbandly manner to you and almost never raises his voice to anyone, which makes him even more chilling with the murders he commits.

“Is that any way to talk to the father of your children?”

“Children? What do you mean children? We have only one child.”

“No, my darling. We have many children.”

“My god, what have you done? Tell me, what have you done?!”

“Would you like to see our daughter? Would you like to see our Christine? Would you?”

“Yes!”

“My darling daughter, your mother has returned to us. Come, give her a kiss.” He’s kidnapped at least three children; a boy, a girl, and an infant. The girl resembles Christine when she was a child. Same colored hair hanging in ringlets, same eye color, same porcelain pale skin and red cheeks. He’s trying to recreate the family he wanted but could never have before Christine’s mother either left him or died. Oh, God.

3. Unbeknownst to either of you, you’re Christine DuBois’ twin sister and are both daughters of Erique Claudin. You were separated at birth after your father put you both up for adoption. Your mother was dead or otherwise gone, and Erique was clueless when it came to raising two girls. While Christine is an aspiring singer and sings in the chorus, you’re an aspiring ballerina and dance in the ensemble. Despite your respective talents, neither of you are given much opportunity to shine. You’re both kept to the background and overshadowed by the prima donna and prima ballerina. You both encounter Erique a few times in the foyer or on the stage or outside the Opera. He showed concern for Christine when he noticed she wasn’t on stage during the Act Three curtain call and asked if she was sick. Similarly, he does the same with you when he notices you’re missing from the stage. Why weren’t you there? Forgive him, but he’s been here so long that you - everybody and everything connected with the Opera is so much a part of his life. You weren’t ill, were you? You’re not in any trouble? Oh, it’s impertinent of him, he knows, but uh…

When Erique suffers an injury to his left hand that prevents him from the use of his fingers and negatively impacts his performance, he’s dismissed from the Paris Opera Orchestra. He no longer has the means to anonymously support either of you. Claudin has secretly spent all his fortune on yours and Christine's education, and he has no money left to go towards his forced retirement. He has to withdraw his financial support from both of you only for a little while, just until he can secure another position. But Signor Ferretti refuses to tutor Christine any further without proper compensation and your ballet instructor is the same. Why should either of them assume Claudin’s burden after he spent all his money on the two of you? The girls mean nothing to them.

But your careers mean more to Claudin than anything else. Neither you nor Christine can afford the lessons on your own. A month’s salary wouldn’t be enough to pay for one of your lessons. Desperate to provide for his darling daughters, he hopes to have his piano concerto published and receive a substantial advance for it. But a misunderstanding leads to Erique committing his first murder and getting his face burned by acid. This sets off a series of unfortunate events that turns him into the Opera Ghost. A man would do practically anything for the love of his daughters, even murder anyone who would get in the way of their careers.

He later tampers with Biancarolli's drink to make her fall asleep and unable to sing. Christine, her understudy, has to take her place on stage. Erique also sabotages the current prima ballerina by putting glass in her ballet shoes or otherwise breaking her feet/legs by creating a terrible accident on stage so that she cannot dance and you have to take her place. He’ll help both of you reach your full potential and you’ll become a great and famous ballerina, as Christine will become a great and famous singer. Biancarolli, who suspects that Garron and Christine are responsible for drugging her, orders Raoul to arrest them. The prima ballerina suspects you of causing her injury and orders your arrest as well. But Raoul says he cannot because there’s no evidence. Biancarolli and the prima ballerina both say they’ll forget the affair only if both you and Christine are replaced as understudies and your performances are not mentioned in the papers.

Both Biancarolli and the prima ballerina are later murdered, along with their maids. They’ve been strangled to death by the Phantom to make room for the unsuspecting Christine and you to take their places. He later kidnaps both of you and takes you down to his lair in the sewer tunnels, revealing that he’s your long-lost father and you’re sisters. Words cannot express how sorry he is for disappearing from your lives and not being able to watch you grow up. If he could’ve raised his daughters himself, he would’ve kept you both in a heartbeat. But he didn’t have the means to raise two girls alone, and needed to give both you and Christine your best chance. So with a heavy heart, he gave you both up to be adopted by other families when you were only a few months old. Now reunited, he wants all three of you to be together forever. A happy family, as you should be.

“You’ll stay here with me, my children, won’t you? It’s been so lonely without my girls but you’ve both come to me at last, haven’t you? Now, Christine, you’ll sing for me. Y/n, you’ll dance for me. I’ll play. We’ll be together forever. It’s beautiful down there. Beautiful. Come now, my little ones. There, you’re not frightened now, are you? You know I’ll not harm either of you, don’t you? How could I harm you? I’ve always helped you. Haven’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, you’ve always helped us.”

“Of course I have. Biancarolli knows. The former prima ballerina knows. She wouldn’t let you sing. She wouldn’t let you dance. They didn’t know how much I love you. Now they know. But it doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters except us. Now you’ll sing and dance all you want, but only for me. You will, won’t you, my darling daughters?”

“Of course…Father.”

4. You were born into a wealthy and well-connected family. Your father took the family on a tour in Europe where you were introduced to an English-born Parisian hostess, with whom you bonded. She was a stimulating hostess who didn’t care for her appearance, and while her ideas didn’t always agree with those of her guests, she was incapable of boring anyone. Her behavior was exasperating and eccentric and she had little respect for upper-class women, whom she regarded generally as inconsequential. She generally rejected female company and spent her time with male intellectuals. She made an exception, however, in the case of your family and you in particular. She demonstrated that women could be equal to men, an idea that you hadn’t learnt from your mother.

You were respectful of your family's opposition to you working as a nurse, only announcing your decision to enter the field. Despite the anger and distress of your mother and sister, you rejected the expected role for a woman of your status to become a wife and mother. You worked hard to educate yourself in the art and science of nursing, in the face of opposition from your family and the restrictive social code for affluent young women. After being confronted by two potential suitors who demanded you choose between them, you chose neither and pursued your nursing career unhindered by marriage prospects. You’re now working at the Opera House, as a literal theatre nurse. You take care of the performers and other staff in cases of fainting spells, accidents, sickness, or injury. Unlike your predecessor, you’re young, beautiful, and sweet-natured.

You met Erique Claudin and knew him only as a violinist in the orchestra. You encountered him a few times in the foyer or on the stage or outside the opera, but that’s all. He seemed eccentric but harmless. But over time, you found yourself wanting to take care of him. You’d notice how he’d keep odd hours and would hardly eat anything. Why doesn’t he get himself something to eat before the opera instead of keeping himself up all hours? You notice he has the same soup night after night, week after week. The Opera House staff gossip, falsely believing that his overdue debts is caused by him being a miser, and they complain about it.

“What that man does with his money is none of our business. If he wants to hoard it and starve to death, that’s his affair. But we hear he hasn’t paid his landlord for six weeks, and that’s as long as they’re going to wait before they toss him out onto the street.”

“What if he hasn’t any money? Maybe if they’ll be patient only just a little longer…”

“He hasn’t any money? After working for the Paris Opera all these years? What nonsense! What does he expect to do with his money? Bury it with him? If he does, they’ll dig him up and steal it. If he thinks he’s going to add a few francs to his fortune at the expense of others, he’s very much mistaken.”

An artistic genius he may be, but he wasn’t well-learned in the arts of the kitchen. He didn't do much more than toast cheese over bread and add a slice of already cooked meat to it since he couldn’t afford much else. So you cook him better, more savory meals using whatever’s leftover in the restaurant and still fresh enough. There was a roast chicken in the pantry and a previously made broth you found on the stove, so you made do with what you had. You made him another soup, but one that was full of cooked meat and vegetables. Sitting beside it on a plate was a chicken sandwich. You were unsure if he even drank tea, but still made him a cup with sugar cubes and cream on the side in case he wanted to add either.

Erik devoured the whole thing in seconds. Quickly setting the bowl of soup aside, he picked up the sandwich and savored the taste of the chicken, bread and mustard as it all came together inside his mouth. When that was finished, he happily over-sugared his tea and drank it down, feeling contently full for the first time in years. You worried he’d get a stomach ache and make himself sick from eating so fast, but you’re glad he enjoyed it. It seems he doesn’t eat a great deal, and that worries you. He should be eating and sleeping well since he works so hard. He’s very grateful to you.

“You’ve been very kind, you’ve been very patient. You’ll be rewarded for it, I promise you! Now please leave me alone.”

After Erique suffers an injury to the fingers of his left hand, he can only play simple melodies perfectly. He goes to you for help and you examine him. While you may or may not be able to determine the cause, you offer to provide physical therapy sessions, free of charge. You know he can’t afford medicine, but maybe this’ll help him a great deal. Perhaps his injury is only temporary, perhaps it’ll get better, but the aim of the Paris Opera is perfection. It’s with a heavy heart that the managers have Erique dismissed from the Orchestra. He’s been with the Opera a long time - twenty years. You wish you could do more to help him. You’re happy to care for him and he’s happy to play music for you in return, to show you his progress following your physical therapy sessions. He never sought more than a casual acquaintance with you but you become friends and, despite your significant age gap, you fall in love.

But then he commits murder and acid is thrown in his face, driving him to go into hiding in the labyrinthine sewers of the Opera House and begin his reign of terror as the Phantom. In his desperation to protect you and repay you for your kindness and time spent devoted to helping him convalesce, Erique would do anything for you, even murder. He’s so desperate for love and friendship that he may even kidnap you. Fortune had smiled upon him the night that you came to the Opera House, and he had savored every moment he had shared with you. You were his loyal caregiver and companion, when so many others had cast him aside. You had cooked for him, talked to him, and even laughed with him whenever he managed to gather the courage to tease you about something. You even allowed him to snuggle close to you as you read - never before had he enjoyed reading so much as he did with you. How could he possibly let someone come and take that away from him now? His darling daughter, Christine, will never care for him in his old age, but maybe you can. In your years working as a nurse, you’ve probably seen lots of gruesome and grisly injuries such as gunshot wounds, infections, amputations, etc., so he hopes you wouldn’t faint or reject him upon seeing his disfigured face. Even if nothing can be done for the acid burns he’s suffered, he still dreams of spending the rest of his life with you by his side.

5. You succesfully bring to the present time Erique Claudin, a violinist from the 19th century, with a homemade time machine. In the split seconds between when Raoul fired his gun and the underground sewers were collapsing, you saved Erique’s life by sending him here before he could be crushed to death from the falling rocks. The underground tunnels are caved in, and nobody would ever try to move all that rubble to recover Erique’s body. He was presumed dead and Christine was rescued. In his time, only his mask and violin were left behind. You try your best to hide and protect him from exposure while he’s given a second chance at life. He may choose a different name or alias to go by. Modern medicine, technology, and makeup may help him either fix his face or acquire a mask that almost seamlessly blends into his skin more, covering his acid scars and giving off the illusion of a perfect face. His unique talent, behavior, and personality puts him in the spotlight, making it only a matter of time until he’s discovered and what you’ve done comes to light. Annoyed by the current primo uomo of the modern day Paris Opera House, a group of stagehands plot to scare him away and give his position to the young understudy with a shared identity - the Phantom of the Opera. Oh no.

[starbow-dreams]

So tell us more about your au

WAHHH PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW ABOUT ROCKSTAR PEPPINO?

I'm so happy to get to talk about him!!! This is a series of headcanons that kind of turned into its own thing!

Okay so basically this Peppino is following his dreams of becoming a singer that he had long left behind.

Music is always something that has been important to Peppino. He is extremely nostalgic for the 90's when he was much younger, back then he had dreams of becoming a musician and starting a band, but it never took off and he lost focus. He became disillusioned after being away from his family, joining the army, and facing the horrors of reality that really took ahold of him as get got older and older.

Peppino may love to cook, but over the years his career and restaurant have become a source of extreme stress. He's stuck and wants to break free, feels like he can't catch a break, but the one thing that calms him down and let's him let go is music. He's not at all confident but his passion shines through and he decides to once again follow his dreams. He starts to perform small-time gigs and become an underground celebrity. He starts to become happier and livelier like when he was younger. Slowly he builds his confidence again despite everything.

No where to go but up.

This little au means a lot to me and parallels some of my own hardships as an artist, and inspires me to keep going and never give up.

I'm currently in the middle of animating a sequence of him singing "Devil Trigger" the song came on shuffle one time when I was playing PT and to me it fit him perfectly. I started this in May and it's maybe 70% done? Here is just a small part. This is currently the biggest animation project I've worked on

Cover is by Little V

What inspired all of this comes down to this official art. Like. Look at him! He gets SO into singing that he loses track of everything around him. It felt like one the rare moments where we actually see him really happy. It really spoke to me.

Thank you for letting me ramble about my little au and project!!! :D