#strings/keys incident tour

[doesnotsvffice]

In California by Joanna Newsom

[joannacnewsom]

happy hoom day to all those who celebrate!

[sad-sad-detective]

All Wrong

Without Aether, everything during the tour goes wrong. But Dewdrop has his packmates by his side.

Or, Dew hurts his knee on stage but Rain and Phantom are here to help.

Please, keep in mind that I hc Dew and Rain as siblings.

Also, English isn't my native language.

Words: 1,437

Tags: non-human ghouls, slice of life, injury, healing, hurt/comfort, implied Aether/Dewdrop

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

From the beginning of this tour, everything went wrong.

Everything fell apart, his effects pedals broke, his monitor burned out, and even the concert guitar, as if sensing its owner's mood, kept trying to cut his fingers with the strings or shut up in the middle of a solo. Normally Dew took setbacks in stride, but this time his patience was wearing thin. The guitar picks melted in his hands, and one of the broken pedals caught fire "by accident" - he blamed it on a malfunction of the pyrotechnics, but Papa still looked at him with a suspicious eye.

But what happened later was the final straw.

He didn't know how it happened: during "Year Zero" his boot slipped on the stage floor and Dew fell on his knee. He felt the impact - and everything went black for a moment. He managed to hide a scream in an expressive gesture. 

As he tried to get up, his knee crunched, sending another shoot of pain. The pyrotechnics on stage worked well: in the darkness that followed, Dew managed to finally get up without embarrassing himself.

Dew had fallen on stage before, but Aether and Rain had been there to make the fall part of the show. Once he had broken his horn during a ritual and Aether had to reattach it. Photos of his shredded hand and bloodied guitar from the last tour were still circulating on social media. But today's incident finally got him.

Of course, Dew completed the ritual. Gritting his teeth behind his mask and carefully ignoring the throbbing pain in his knee, he played his parts, both in the songs and in the show. All this time Rain was giving him strange looks, and during the final bow Aurora took his hand too gently, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, but Dew pretended to be fine until he reached his hotel room and collapsed on the bed.

He healed quickly. Some painkillers to help him sleep, and he'd be fine in the morning. He'd be back to normal before the next ritual. If Aether had been here, he could have...

But Aether wasn't here. Dew took a deep breath and buried his face in the pillow. Five minutes. Five minutes to recover, and then he'd crawl to find painkillers in his travel bag. Aether had insisted that each of them took a personal first-aid kit with them, and had even packed the necessary medications himself.

Without him, everything on the tour was going downhill. That's why Dew's picks melted and his monitors burned; a part of his soul - if ghouls have souls, of course - stayed in Lincopia. A very important part, without which everything seemed wrong and meaningless. No matter how many postcards he sent, no matter how many late-night hours he spent on video calls, it still didn't come back. It only drew him home more.

Someone knocked on the door. Two short taps, then another and two more short taps - someone from his pack.

“I'm not here, I'm dead!” Dew growled. He did not want to get up. His knee responded to every movement with another flash of pain.

“Then we'll have to break down the door to get the body!” Rain's voice came from behind the door. “Papa will be mad!”

“At me or at having to pay for the door?”

His little brother laughed, but when he spoke again, his voice sounded serious, “I brought you some medicine. I can ask the receptionist for a spare key if you... if it hurts to walk.”

“Slip it under the door, I'll get it later," Dew sighed. There was a murmur of voices outside the door. Rain wasn't there alone.

For a moment, Dew felt a sense of déjà vu: here he was in his hotel room, holding a broken horn and wondering how he was going to explain it to Copia, and here were Aether and Cumulus knocking on his door with French fries and a solution.

“It won't fit," Rain said. Dew rolled onto his back and pressed his palms to his face.

“Give me a minute.”

He was so tired, he did not put his mask on. Of course, Papa would have been displeased if he'd known that Dew had been out in the hotel corridor with his face uncovered - what if laymen saw him? - but right now, Dew couldn’t find any fucks to give. Leaning against the wall, Dew waddled to the door and turned the knob, letting Rain into the room.

Dew didn't need to see his brother's face to know that he was worried. It was in the line of his shoulders, in the nervous fidgeting of his fingers. If Rain had a tail in human form, it would have whipped the air.

Rain slipped into the room and immediately offered his shoulder to Dew for support. Another short, slender figure, smelling of moss and sea salt, came through the open door. Phantom.

“What's he doing here?” Dew wondered. It sounded rude, but Phantom didn't seem offended.

“I'm the medicine," he explained with a smile.

Phantom was a strange creature, all sharp-toothed grins and water-viper grace, and his smell was different, not like other quintessence ghouls. His attempts to mimic the behavior of his packmates sometimes was unsettling. However, knowing the circumstances under which he had appeared in Lincopia, Papa's ghouls tried to ignore it as much as possible. Aether even took him under his wing and volunteered to teach him everything from using the Quintessence to playing the guitar.

Dew looked at him in disbelief. Phantom smiled even wider and nodded.

“I'll help you."

The two of them dragged Dew back to the bed. Dew grunted softly, more out of habit than anything else.

“You two should be resting, not fussing over me," he leaned back on the pillow and stretched out his sore leg. “We have to get up early tomorrow.”

“We always have to get up early," Rain settled down beside him. Phantom perched on the edge of the mattress. They both took off their masks, and without them, their glamor disappeared; Rain's tail immediately curled around Dew's healthy leg and gave it a comforting squeeze.

Phantom's thin but strong fingers felt the sore knee gently through the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Sprained and bruised, some bad luck you have," Phantom shook his head sympathetically. “It won't heal overnight... But," he beamed, "I can help with that!”

“You should have asked Phantom to fix you right away," Rain reproached. Dew flattened his ears.

“It would take a long time," he muttered. “I didn't want to keep everyone waiting”.

“Not long," Phantom said, and Rain rolled his eyes.

“You could tell Papa, and he'd give another speech to the crowd. You know how much he likes it," the flat tip of Rain’s tail slapped Dew's thigh. “It'd be just enough time to get you in shape.”

“Now my little brother's lecturing me," Dew grumbled, receiving another hard slap.

“Someone has to look after you.”

“If you return limping to the Abbey, Aether will eat us alive," Phantom added.

Dew sighed. That was certainly a good point.

“Okay," he flicked his tail. “Patch me up, Doc.”

It seemed impossible to smile any wider, but Phantom managed it. His teeth were white and needle-sharp. Dew tensed involuntarily; Rain froze beside him, his tail curling tighter around Dew's leg. Phantom's ears flattened in embarrassment.

“Sorry. Can you... uh... take your pants off?

Dew raised his eyebrow.

“Sorry, but I'm already taken. Besides, Rain's here”.

Rain elbowed his side.

“Direct contact is more effective," Phantom explained, not the least bit embarrassed. “But we can try it anyway”.

He twisted his wrists, clenched and unclenched his fingers, stretched, and then gently touched Dew's knee.

Phantom's magic was strange too. Even through the fabric of his sweatpants, his touch made Dew’s skin prickle, like hundreds of tiny bubbles bursting at once. It felt like putting your hand in a sea wave and feeling the foam settling on your skin.

But Aether had trained him well: it took Phantom only a few seconds to subside the throbbing pain. Dew couldn't hold back a long sigh of relief. Rain chuckled softly and patted his shoulder.

“There you go!” Phantom straightened up with a proud smile. “Now try to bend and straighten your leg, okay?”

Gingerly, Dew obeyed. The swelling was completely gone, and he didn’t feel any pain when he bent his leg and straightened it again. He smiled and gave Phantom a thumbs up.

“Aether has trained you well," he said honestly, getting another toothy grin in return.

[thebowerypresents]

Willie Nelson Brings Outlaw Music Festival to Forest Hills Stadium

Outlaw Music Festival – Forest Hills Stadium – September 17, 2023

You don’t so much attend a Willie Nelson concert these days as you conform to its warmly understated, sometimes leisurely, sometimes-invigorating pace. Then again, he’s always seemed to have that pause-a-sec-and-listen effect: Whether 30 or 90, delivering sad-eyed, tear-in-beer weepers, tender folk, inspiring hymns or outlaw country rousers, he’s got you. Hearing him play, surrounded by his adoring band, still has that time-stopping quality, and Forest Hills Stadium was in thrall to one of American music’s true and unimpeachable legends on a rainy but warm Sunday evening. 

The Outlaw Music Festival, a going concern for a while now, is Willie’s eclectic seasonal caravan, loading up a sprawling six-hour bill with a range of artists that don’t sound quite like Nelson but are at the same time just right for a show like this, underscoring his own lineage and place in the history of many potent strains of Americana. As ever, he and his impressive band crowned the show with an hour-long set of their own, setting a brisk but not workmanlike pace through his classics (“Whiskey River,” “Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys,” “On the Road Again,” “I Gotta Get Drunk,” “Always On My Mind,” “Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die”) and those of friends and favorites, including Billie Joe Shaver’s “I Been to Georgia on a Fast Train,” “Stay a Little Longer” from the Bob Willis catalog, “Move It On Over” from Hank Williams, and the immortal “Georgia on My Mind.” Willie’s sung these songs thousands of times, but each one still felt like a warm embrace, even the wistful ones, and even the ones for which he wouldn’t need to do more than go through the motions but is just too classy for that.

About the bill: There were plenty of willing conspirators and indeed, half the fun of a tour like this is the cross-pollination and spirit of collaboration that happens throughout. No less than Norah Jones — a surprise guest, unannounced — low-key sat in on keyboards for most of the Willie set. (It wasn’t even clear it was her until she took a few backing vocals and then a full verse of “I Gotta Get Drunk.”) Harmonica ace Mickey Raphael — a stalwart of Nelson’s band — joined for sections of earlier sets from Los Lobos, the String Cheese Incident and Bob Weir & Wolf Bros using a range of harmonica modes, from sawing roadhouse blues to sweet-’n’-tender folk. And as ever, Willie made his customary invite to many of the musicians, including a game and all-smiles Weir, to join in for the rootsy, hymnal “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” and several more selections, hootenanny-ing up the stage to close the night.

Weir’s Wolf Bros — one of the most interesting post–Grateful Dead bands and as oddly compelling a capture of Weir’s Weir-ness as any other group he’s been part of — got about 90 minutes to roam as the night’s coheadliner and more than made the most of it. The core trio of Weir, Don Was and Jay Lane has mushroomed on the road into a full ensemble, including Weir’s longtime swingman Jeff Chimenti on keys and ace pedal steel from Barry Sless, plus a sturdy horns-and-strings section called the Wolfpack. That bigness was well used here: “Jack Straw,” “Estimated Prophet” (neatly segued into its forever companion, “Eyes of the World,” which itself neatly segued into Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On”), the Sunday-special “Samson & Delilah” and a rollicking “Turn On Your Lovelight” were Grateful Dead staples all getting jammy workouts.

Earlier came a potent set from jam-bluegrass stalwarts the String Cheese Incident, somehow now approaching their own 30th anniversary. And earlier still came the mighty Los Lobos — themselves, whoa, 50 years along! — who played a ripsnorting 45-minute frame full of cumbia and full-boogie rockers, including the beloved “Georgia Slop.” 30 years? 50 years? So much beautiful longevity here, but the bar appears to be 90 years, gang. —Chad Berndtson | @Cberndtson

Photos courtesy of Silvia Saponaro | @Silvia_Saponaro

[spicyliumang]

Came up with an Enyao headcanon/ scenario that has been looming on my mind 4 days!!

Enya gets a full-ride scholarship to go to an art school to get her Fashion degree, but it's in Sotenbori, and Zhao and Enya's relationship is temporarily long distant (kinda) :') (some sfw and nsfw headcanons are somewhat under the cut 😭)

SCENARIO:

Enya is working at the Rose Blossom when one of the customers she's serving notices her and requests her for the night and ends up having an in-depth conversation and ends up talking about Enya's aspirations

After the conversation and learning about Enya's knowledge of fashion, the customer tells her he has connections at the art school and would pull strings to get her a full ride and she'd have her degree in six months if she started now. He lets her know to visit the campus the next day to apply and prep for onboarding and that's when he mentions it's in Sotenbori :')

Enya was happy at first but became doubtful given it would mean she'll be apart from Zhao and considered declining. The man told her to sleep on it and visit tomorrow if she was interested

Zhao pick her up from work and noticed she looked troubled and asked what was wrong when she hesitantly told him about the opportunity and considered declining when he immediately stopped her and told her to take the opportunity

Enya was so worried about how their relationship will go, but Zhao mentioned how she should follow through with what she wanted since it was her passion and reassured her they'd make it work and did not have any issues visiting her and letting her know she could visit on weekends too

Enya eventually tells the gang and ends up taking an impromptu trip to Sotenbori with them for the weekend to support her

The first two days everyone went sightseeing and hanging out until the last day when everyone helped Enya gather supplies for her dorm room and classes

Everyone followed her through the tour all the way up to the point she was given her dorm room key where she met her roommate, Yumi.

Everyone got acquainted with her and shamelessly Adachi tries to flirt with her 😭 until Saeko scolded him

Zhao made food for everyone including Yumi to celebrate Enya's new beginnings and coming closer to her life goals

As the night ended and everyone headed back, Enya became emotional knowing she won't be with Zhao and will sleep alone ( She has severe abandonment issues :') ) Zhao reassured her that she can do it and encouraged her as much as he could

Some days later Enya finds herself having a hard time finding her classes and fitting in (The people in Sotenbori are much meaner 😭) And finds herself being bullied by a clique of girls who are in her class and sabotaging her first project. She complained to the dean about the incident, but because one of the girl's fathers is the one who helps fund the college, it was swept under the rug. She trudged back to her room hoping to vent to her roommate but she was already out for the day

Enya calls Zhao sobbing and practically having a panic attack saying it was a mistake and she didn't want to stay anymore and wanted to go back to Ijincho. Before Zhao was able to get a word in, she mentioned that she had to go and her next class was starting in a few minutes

At the end of her last class of the day, Enya heads back to her dorm and just plops on the bed with no interest to eat or anything

Zhao comes in the middle of the night to see her with Yakisoba and Boba tea to cheer her up and comforts her letting her know that he's there for her, and (jokingly) asked if she wanted them to be "dealt with" and would happily give her father some "encouragement" to stop the girls from harassing Enya, but she declines, knowing it would make her no better than the girls if she did that

Zhao encouraged her to see through her goals especially since this was something she really wanted to do and if they give her any more problems to let him know and both he and Han will make "arrangements" to fix the issue

Enya decides to continue with Zhao's support despite the girls trying to give her trouble

HEADCANONS

SFW:

Enya would video call every day and chat with him for hours as he tell her about the happenings with the gang while she was away and some of the interesting encounters he has had while cooking at You Tian including having to shoo a man who came in with only a diaper on

Enya would binge-watch movies with Zhao via video call or visit her dorm

Some days he'd sit on a call with her as she rants about her classes and the different things she learned during her lectures and mentioned how Yumi was eyeing Han the second he walked in and asked her if he was single😭

Sometimes they'd accidentally fall asleep on call after binge-watching too late

During the week he'd visit and bring her any new dishes he has made wanting to get her input or sometimes just bringing her something small like a tiny panda plush and some sweets while he was there

She bought a switch of her own and plays with Zhao and the gang some nights while away

Once out of the week when she's off sometimes she'd pick up a shift or two at the Rose Blossom when she can for extra cash

Enya made a comment about one of the male students eying her and even tried to engage in conversation quite obviously flirting and he ✨jokingly✨ threatened about feeding the guy to the tiger 😭💀💀 this also led to more visits and even showing more PDA than usual when he finally had the pleasure to meet the man eyeing Enya

NSFW:

The distance apart starts to get to them both in more ways than one so those video calls soon escalate to something else when Yumi is away and Enya is alone

LOOOTS of phone sex. Like a lot 😭

Zhao would ask Enya to send him nudes from time to time or she'd do it spontaneously just to tease him and he would whine about how she's being cruel because he's not there with her at the moment which results in a few giggles from Enya 🤭💙

Enya was feeling bold and was happy to video chat while she was in the shower to "give him a show 🤭"

Zhao is usually very level-headed when it comes to the distance not wanting to show any ounce of doubt that would make Enya want to drop out, but their time apart despite seeing each other often doesn't lead to much time for sex usually Yumi is in the room with her. One day he rents a hotel and picks her up impromptu and took her out. most of the trip hastily found himself all over her before he could even close the hotel room door. He comes faster than he ever has and complained his hand wasn't enough and the idea of any man eyeing her while he's not there really got to him and wanted to make sure everyone knew that she was his

Enya was sore for a few days 😭 Zhao felt kinda bad and got her taro bubble tea to make up for it :')

When Yumi isn't there and Zhao visits they'd usually take advantage of the "alone time" they have which usually results in quickies. 🤭

that's all I got for now 😭

[whiteshipnightjar]

Do you know the name of the artist that made the art for the strings/keys incident tour? (the one from the stage) i once saw a video where joanna mention her name, but i really can remember :( joanna said that they are friends, something like that

Yes! It's Becca Mann! She's amazing, I love her work. Here's a tiny sample of her pieces I like. Joanna and her world of talented friends filling our lil planet with so much beauty!

[heart0fwhite]

Joanna Newsom trans(cending)itioning from harp to piano

[look-and-despair]

The Strings/Keys Incident Tour | Dresses

[turtleneckchain]

joanna newsom at the thalia hall (chicago, 10/8)

[soft-as-sawdust-and-chalk]

joanna was AMAZINGLY beautiful last night. she just keeps serving. thank you, joanna 😭😭😭🥰

(📸 jonbauer on instagram)

p.s. i know ppl gonna post these pics a lot but let's agree these are AMAZING

[doesnotsvffice]

[joannacnewsom]

the way she sings “oh my love” will forever make my heart melt

[madeofitzits]

I wonder if Andy's going to have to clear out some of his (four) outfits to make room for Joanna's new custom Rodarte collection?!

[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5

summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death 

i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!

- jazz

Mondays. You hated ‘em.

Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost. 

On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything. 

‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’

‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.

‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’

‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’

You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on. 

‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’

Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.

By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.

Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.

‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car. 

‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’

‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement. 

‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’

‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’

‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.

Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’

‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’

‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’

‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’

‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’

‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’

‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’

'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’

He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little. 

‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car. 

‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.

‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’ 

He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’

‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’

‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.

‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’

‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’

‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’

‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’ 

‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’

--

Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady. 

No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce. 

You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge. 

After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.

As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.

‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’

‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’

‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’

‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’

‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’

‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’

‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’

‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.

‘Exactly.’

You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.

Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.

(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).

The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.

Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him. 

‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’

‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been. 

‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I’ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’

For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked 

‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’

‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’

‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America. 

Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be. 

Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.

‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’

‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’

‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’

He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’

‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight. 

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely. 

‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’

‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’

After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best. 

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.

‘Sorry, that was too deep-’

‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’ 

He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’

‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’

‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’

‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’

‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’

‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’

‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter. 

‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’

Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.

‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’

‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’

‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’ 

‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’

‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’ 

‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’

‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together. 

Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.

You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck -  you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought. 

‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’

Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear. 

‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’

‘I had something in my eye.’

‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’

He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.

‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’

‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back. 

He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.

‘I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, sure.’  You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’

--

True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay. 

‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’

‘You said library was bad.’

‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’

‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.

‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’

‘No to what, buddy?’

‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’

Well, fuck. 

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles​ @bitchin-beskar​ @comphersjost​ {message me to be added!}

[tuffduff]

Rock Stars Make Bad Boyfriends (Vince Neil x Reader x Slash)

Pairing: Vince Neil x Reader x Slash

Words: 3,170

Request: anon! : “hi again! i’ve got another idea for an imagine so i came right to your blog - hopes that’s okay! i had an idea where the reader kind of has an unofficial thing with Vince Neil but he’s stringing her along - flirting with other girls and such almost in front of the reader’s face - & she ends up meeting slash when gnr and the crue are on tour. slash immediately falls for her & she falls for him too but slash sees how Vince treats her. slash eventually asks her on a date & vince ends up hearing about it & confronting the reader about it. she tells him she really likes slash and she’s done with him and eventually slash and the reader end up dating much to vince’s dismay. thank you so much!”

A/N: Yes, love; that is more than okay!! I love that y’all come to me with these ideas! I love this prompt and I think about this Motley/GNR tour a lot...even if it was short. Turned into a short fic, but hopefully y’all don’t mind that. Hope you’re all doing well!

Taglist: @ubernoxa​ @the--blackdahlia​ @reigns420​ @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker​ @rumoured-whispers​ @dustnbones​

“Vince?” The blonde kept his head turned away from you as though you hadn’t spoken a word. You felt the scowl on your face deepen as he sent a wave towards the girl working the outdoor bar of the hotel resort pool area. “Vince, are you even listening to me?” This time, your tone must’ve been enough to get his attention as he turned back to you.

“Aw, I’m sorry, baby. What were you saying?” You pushed your tongue against the wall of your mouth trying to summon patience; it’s not like you just spent the better part of the last five minutes trying to tell Vince about your day.

“I was talking about what happened earlier in the gift shop. There was a little girl who didn’t have enough money to buy this key chain, and a little old man bought it for her.”

“Mmm.” Vince’s head had turned again the minute you started talking. You frowned.

“And then the shop blew up. It was a huge explosion.”

“Mmhm.”

“The little girl and old man died.”

“That’s nice. Hey, I’m gonna go get us some more drinks, alright, baby?” Vince stood from his lounge chair without waiting for your reply. “Be right back!”

You sighed a little as you watched him unsurprisingly saunter over to the girl at the bar who was practically licking her lips.

All your girlfriends called you crazy for agreeing to go on tour with a rock star. Well, no; that was misleading. They encouraged going on tour, but expecting serious commitment from a rock star? In your dreams, they said. Rock stars don’t make good boyfriends.

You met Vince only about a month prior, so you knew it was nothing quite serious, but was it wrong for you to hope? You liked Vince. That first night neither of you could stop talking until the early morning hours, his eyes sparkling and unmoving from yours, his hand on your knee. But he was a humongous flirt. You tried not to let it get to you—after all, here you were poolside at a swanky resort in a room you didn’t pay for, going to concerts you didn’t have to buy tickets for. Tradeoffs, you supposed. Even still, you couldn’t help but glance over and over again as Vince stayed longer and longer at the bar. You tried to work on your tan and stay undeterred as you planned your outfit in your head for the show later.

That night, Vince complimented you already three times on the way to the arena, but that was only after he heard Tommy telling you that you were looking “hot as fuck, dude.” You still counted it as a win. Then you scolded yourself; were relationships supposed to be about winning?

You also heard Nikki saying something about how their new opening band would be starting tonight, kicking off this leg of the tour. Guns N’ Roses—you had never heard of them, but the name sounded cool. They must have been good if they were opening for the Crue.

Despite his sweet talking and possessive touch all the way to the arena, Vince soon abandoned you once you actually got there. You brushed it off; you weren’t a child. He did have a show to get ready for—you tried not to notice how many groupies you were already seeing walk by, though. There were more interesting things to see anyways. At least, you were determined to find them.

That turned out, again, to be wishful thinking. You didn’t have complete access to every part of the arena, and really, you felt bad about being in the way of all the crew members. That led to you finding the door outside, to the back of the arena, where you hoped to just find a quiet place for a moment.

It took two tugs with all your strength to actually pull open the heavy doors, but instead of opening a gateway to the outside, another body toppled into you. You let out a startled yelp.

“Oh, thank fuck, man!” You heard a soft voice say in relief. There was so much hair in your face that you couldn’t see behind all the black unruly coils to untangle yourself from this mystery guy. “I went outside just to smoke and like, chill before the show, you know, but the doors fucking locked—” you both finally untangled and you found yourself face to face with, well, still a whole lotta hair.

He had on black leather pants and a denim jacket with black sleeves, along with cowboy boots. You couldn’t see his eyes behind his curls, but you were sure he was staring right at you.

“Woah, uh...” he murmured. His voice never changed from the soft murmur. “I thought you were security or something.” You chuckled and watched as he pushed his hair away from his face, revealing pretty, brown, fascinated eyes that were, indeed, staring right at you. You could feel heat growing in your cheeks, but did your best to stay calm.

“No, just a lost soul.” You joked lightly. He blinked a few times at you, almost dumbfounded. He was adorable.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something fun.” A smile grew on his face at your reply.

“I can show you that. I’m Slash.”

“Slash?” You asked in amazement, and he chuckled.

“Yeah, well, my name’s Saul. But I’ve been called Slash for years.” Saul. Slash.

“Okay, cool. I’m Y/N.” You both exchanged smiles and he jerked his head, waiting to make sure you walked beside him rather than behind him.

He took you to where the rest of his band was gathered and introduced you to an eclectic group, all of whom were nice and chill. Less chaos than Motley, but still had that aura hanging in the air, that they were on the verge of destruction, that they were a gang.

Slash, though soft-spoken, asked you question after question—where you were from, what you normally did for fun, what music you liked as he strummed a guitar mindlessly. You watched his fingers in amazement, how effortless he made the action look. And then came his question, “why are you backstage?”

“Oh, well, I’m with—” Speak of the devil…

“Y/N?” You turned at the sound of the door slamming open and Vince appearing in the door frame. “Where the fuck have you been, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“I’ve been listening to these guys jam. You guys picked a great opening act.” You replied coolly, and you couldn’t help but notice the way Slash smiled down at his guitar silently.

“Well, you’re supposed to be helping me with my makeup,” Vince didn’t hesitate to cross the room and pull you off the couch you were sitting on by your arm, giving you no chance in the matter. “Or, something more productive. Like putting that pretty mouth of yours to use.” You sent Vince a look and immediately snatched your arm out of his grip. No way were you going to tolerate being disrespected like that in a room full of people.

“If you wanted a sex toy to bring on the road with you, I’m sure you could have had plenty of other girls—that’s not what I am.” You replied, pushing around him and walking out of the room. Vince chased you down the hall.

“Hey! Y/N, wait! Hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Vince cooed, pulling you to a stop and pressing his lips to your neck. “I just wanted to make sure they knew you were with me; I just get jealous. Especially when you look so fucking good tonight.” You let it go, but you didn’t forget the incident. And you especially didn’t forget the moment later, when you were watching Motley Crue perform from the side of the stage, as a hand gently touched your shoulder. It was Slash.

“Hey...you ever...want...someone...find...” you couldn’t hear him over Mick’s guitar.

“What?” You yelled at him. He laughed before leaning in close to your ear. He had to brush your hair back, and his lips were practically touching your skin.

“If you ever get bored or want to have fun with someone while you’re on tour, come and find me.”

The implication of that almost had you nervous; did all these guys just think you were a road groupie? But, sure enough, Vince ditched you once more at another show and you found yourself knocking on the Guns N’ Roses dressing room door. And there was Slash, answering the door with a smile as though you had known each other for years. “Hey, dude. Check this out, tell me what you think.” He played you a guitar riff he had been working on and waited expectantly to hear your thoughts after. And that was that, you were fast friends.

You weren’t sure how to explain the phenomenon, but you knew it was mutual. Just a special connection; even when you were both still learning about each other, it felt more as if you were remembering. It was like putting on a pair of boots that had already been worn in.

And you knew it was mutual because, according to his bandmates, Slash was pretty shy unless he was drunk. But not with you; he could talk your ear off. Somehow in just a couple weeks, it felt as if you were best friends.

That was an incredible feeling in itself; at this age in life, could you really meet another person out of the blue and grow so close so fast? But beyond that, there were little moments. These moments you quickly grew to live for, these moments made your heart race and your palms sweat.

Moments when you looked over at him, cigarette hanging from his mouth as he focused on the guitar, and you never wanted to kiss a pair of lips more. Moments when you thought maybe, just maybe, Slash felt the same. He would hug you in greeting every time he saw you, but sometimes leave his arm around your waist, effectively holding you to him until he had to let you go. When you would swear you caught him already staring because of how fast he turned his head away.

“Y/N, I can’t wait for you to meet Pandora.”

“Who’s that?” He smiled up at you, his head resting on your lap as it usually did, a guitar resting in his.

“She’s my boa.”

“Your...your snake?”

“She’s the sweetest—she’s gonna love you.”

He wanted you to meet his snake—or, snakes. You laughed, and for some reason, you felt such a wave of affection hit you at just the thought of his existence. You spent more time watching Guns open from the side of the stage than you did watching Motley—you were usually goofing off with Slash at that point. Suddenly, Vince’s continuing disappearances didn’t bother you so much. The only thing that actually did bother you was when Slash would walk you up to your always empty hotel room every evening. The both of you would drag your steps every time and take unnecessary trips to the snack machine, or stand out on the balcony to check out the moon. Just anything to prolong ending the night.

“Empty again,” you joked to Slash as you opened the hotel room door to dark and vacant room. You weren’t even sure why you and Vince kept up the charade anymore—he hadn’t even kissed you in days. At this point, you were riding to the arenas with Slash and his band.

Slash didn’t laugh like you thought he would. He was looking down, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Can I ask you something and you promise to not get mad?” He asked you. His words were almost rushed, as though he had to gather courage to even say them.

“Yeah, of course you can. What’s up?”

“Do you actually like him? Vince?” He ventured. “I mean, I know you don’t love him, but...”

“How do you know that?” You asked out of curiosity, certainly not out of disagreement. He was right, of course. Slash shrugged a shoulder.

“I would just imagine, you know...if you love someone, you would want to be around them. Tell them things first, eat with them, just kinda look to them first.” You listened to his words, realizing over the past few days you had been doing all of the above with Slash. You had given up trying to tell the nuances of your day to Vince, but Slash listened when you told him how you short circuited the electricity with your blow dryer at the hotel. He laughed at your jokes or when you tripped backstage because he was always watching you. He gave you his jacket when he saw you shiver once, he made sure you got food after the show if you were still hungry. When he was drunk and carefree, he wouldn’t chase after groupies. He would come and find you and fall asleep on your shoulder.

“I don’t love Vince.” You confirmed softly. “Vince...had me fooled into thinking he was someone else. That he cared.”

“Then why are you with him?” You stared back at him, unable to give him an answer.

“I don’t...”

“Let’s go out.” You felt your heart jump.

“We’ve...we’ve been out, though.”

“Y/N, Denny’s after midnight is hardly a date.” He said, though he was fighting a smile; that was a good memory.

“Depends on who you ask,” you chuckled, making him chuckle. “Wait, did you say a date?”

“Well, yeah. That’s what I mean.” He said softly. “Listen, Y/N. I think you’re pretty cool. And I dunno, I’ve never really...like, there’s a lot of pretty girls out there, right? But you’re so fucking beautiful I thought I was seeing things when you opened the door that day. Then, I found out you were with Vince, and I tried to let it go, but I see how he treats you, and it pisses me off. You deserve better. But you just, us, you and I, we click, you know? I know you feel it, right?” You nodded after a moment and felt your heart flip again when he smiled. “So, give it a chance. We have the day off tomorrow. Let’s fucking do something fun—I don’t know, we can go to the fucking zoo! Or go find some concert somewhere or just, go anywhere.”

“...Okay.” You agreed with a smile. He grinned back at you.

“Okay? So like, early afternoon? 4 or something?” You smiled; was he that excited to see you? Your heart hadn’t been this giddy in a long time.

“Yeah, that sounds great with me.”

It was barely 3 in the afternoon and you were towel drying your wet hair, fresh out of the shower, when your hotel room slammed open. Vince appeared for the first time since you’d last seen him before the concert the night before, staring at you with what you could only describe as fury. You stared at him silently.

“Can you fucking tell me why all the Guns N’ Roses guys are hyping up Slash for his big date tonight with Y/N?” He demanded. You looked down, waiting for the shake and guilt to hit you, but it never came.

“Vince, it’s not like we were in love with each other.” You said with quiet bluntness. Vince’s eyes grew wide.

“I brought you on fucking tour with me!”

“And ever since then you’ve left me night in and night out to go and sleep with every groupie that comes your way! We haven’t slept in the same bed in weeks! There are fucking lipstick stains on your neck right now, Vince!” He glanced in the mirror quickly before he cursed under his breath.

“Y/N...it’s just, the way it is, you know? That’s the life we live.”

“You just fuck other girls and have me waiting for you too? That’s the life?”

“Alright, I fucked up. I do care about you, Y/N, baby. I do. I’m trying. I’ll do better.” Vince’s voice was soft and sugary, and he walked over to you, grabbing your hand in his, holding your eyes with his. “Just give me another shot. We’ll have some fun.” This time, his smooth talking did nothing for you; your heart was already taken by someone else. You slipped your hand out of his and silently began gathering up your things.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Vince laughed as you shoved your clothes in your luggage. “C’mon, baby, just calm down. You’re not even dressed.” You sent him an incredulous look.

“I am more than calm. Goodbye, Vince.”

“Where are you going? Y/N, seriously! Oh, what—are you just gonna jump onto the next rock star? I thought you weren’t a groupie, huh? He just wants to fuck you and then he’ll drop you, just you fucking wait! That’s all we do!”

“No, that’s what you do. You don’t speak for him or me.” You snapped over your shoulder at Vince’s childish yelling. The door slammed behind you and you smirked a little.

You made your way through the hotel in your towel, barefoot and hair dripping, and knocked on the door you knew to be Slash’s. He opened it slowly in confusion, and felt your heart expand at the sight of him already dressed and ready to go much too early—clean hair swept out of his eyes, a flannel that was barely buttoned, and leather pants. He took one look at your bag and towel.

“It’s not 4 yet.” He said, the hint of a smile on his lips.

“Speak for yourself.” You said, fighting the urge to smile back. He leaned against the door frame, now smiling outright. “…You know, I think I just lost my backstage pass.” Slash laughed.

“It’s all good; I’ll sneak you in in my guitar case or some shit. And besides; this leg of the tour is almost over. We only have a few shows with them left. Next month, we’re opening for Alice Cooper.” He paused a little, his voice turning serious. “You know you can come, if you want.”

“I don’t know,” you murmured, looking down. Some of the things Vince had said were sinking in; you didn’t want to be known as just some groupie that jumped from band to band. Slash touched your shoulder in an effort to get you to look at him.

“I want you to come.” Your heart fluttered again, and threatened to soar out of your chest entirely when he leaned forward and gave you a light and sweet tender peck on the lips—your very first kiss together. He pulled back too quickly, laughing. “You look ridiculous.” You glanced back down at your towel again and laughed. Slash took your bag from your shoulder and stood aside. “You know, I’ve only got one bed in here.”

“That sounds good to me.”

[whiteshipnightjar]

Joanna Newsom chalk art 🧑‍🎨: Anna Michal