#honestly their bassist position is cursed

[black-arcana]

CHARLOTTE WESSELS On Her Exit From DELAIN: 'It's Frustrating To Me That We Couldn't Work It Out'

In a recent interview with Scott Penfold of Loaded Radio, former DELAIN frontwoman Charlotte Wessels was asked about the circumstances that led to her 2021 departure from the band. She said (as transcribed by BLABBERMOUTH.NET): "There was a conflict and we couldn't overcome it. That's a very short version of it. I've never really gone into detail about it, and I still don't really feel about going into detail about it. The thing that I will say is we spent a lot of time trying to work things out. We were already putting much energy in that before we kind of got to the conflict where it was hard to come back from. But, yeah, especially since the pandemic happened, we had no gigs. We had all the time in the world to think, like, 'Okay, what are we going to do? Will we be able to solve this?' And we took a very long time. And in the end, the answer was no. There was no solution that we could find where we would continue in that way. And a part of me — it's such a big part of my life, and I'm very happy, I'm very proud with what we did in that time. So it's frustrating to me that we couldn't work it out. The thing that kind of comforts me is the fact that we did take so much time to explore all the different possibilities, like, could we make this work? Yeah, I don't feel like there was really another option. So that's why."

Asked if she still keeps in touch with DELAIN keyboardist, founder and main songwriter Martijn Westerholt, Charlotte said: "I ran into him at one point, but there's been no contact otherwise. And I think right after it, there's been some contact here and there, but that was about it."

Back in September 2022, Wessels was asked by Spain's The Metal Circus TV how she feels about the fact that DELAIN made a comeback with a new lineup. A month earlier, DELAIN released a single, "The Quest And The Curse", featuring Westerholt alongside new singer Diana Leah, original guitarist Ronald Landa and original drummer Sander Zoer, plus bassist Ludovico Cioffi. Charlotte said: "I'm trying not to engage with it too much, honestly. I've seen positive responses about it, which I think is good. But I do try to keep some distance and just focus on what I'm doing rather than checking that out, because I still don't feel like that will make me happier per se."

In February 2021, Westerholt announced the dissolution of DELAIN's previous lineup. At the time, he explained: "For the last year or so, the collaboration within the band ceased to work as well as it once had. Some of us were no longer happy with the current roles in the band. We all tried very hard to find a solution for over a year, but sadly we were unable to find one. As a result, we will all be going our own ways and pursuing our own endeavors.

"I am very sad our cooperation has come to end, but at the same time I am very grateful for all the years we were able to work together. Together we toured the world, shared highs and lows, and met with many successes as well as times that pushed us to learn and grow. We all enjoyed meeting our fans and making new friends all over the globe."

At the time, Wessels said about her departure: "I know that you might have questions about the 'why' in all of this. I fully understand and respect that. Simply put, it is the sad conclusion of more than a year of trying to find solutions to built-up grievances. Part of me feels like I'm letting all of you down, I'd like you to know that this decision was not taken lightly and I apologize to those of you who had high hopes of seeing all of us together live on stage again after lockdown. Until recently, I thought this might still be in the cards for us as well."

The new DELAIN lineup made its official live debut in August 2022 at the Riverside festival in Aarburg, Switzerland.

Wessels's new solo album, "The Obsession", came out in September via Napalm Records.

[fishncake]

Don’t you worry about a thing, you will always stay with me

farewell Royal Pirates, we will love you forever...

[whoreiaki-kakyoin]

Alt-bacchio Headcanons- Alt/Punk Abbacchio x Gender Neutral Reader

I’m still majorly brainrotting for Abbacchio as the hot older brother of your best friend Narancia? So enjoy some thoughts I keep having. (For reference, I got the idea for 1. Abbacchio's general look/vibe and 2. the older brother type dynamic from this awesome comic by gaminegay)

You and Narancia are good friends, probably having met through school or at mutual hangout spots. I imagine you both being at least college age, with you a little older than Narancia and Abbacchio a few years older than you

One day, you come over, and Abbacchio answers the door, silver hair tied back, headphones slung around his neck, lipstick and eyeliner and several piercings in his ears, and you think you might swoon. He acts indifferent, but you don’t miss the quick once-over he gives you as he grunts out a, “you’re Narancia’s friend? Well come in, then, he’s upstairs.”

“Okay, what the fuck, you never told me you had a brother!”

“Eh, yeah, we're not blood related, but Leone's a good big bro. He’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but he’s pretty chill.”

Leone usually excuses himself with an eye roll when Narancia is having friends over? Just does his own thing? Yet after you come over one day and he gets a glimpse of you, suddenly he hangs around more

Narancia goes to point this out (genuinely not intending anything by it, he just thinks it’s weird), and Abbacchio roughly elbows him in the side mid-sentence to shut him up

“Why are you even hanging around so much, you usually hate being around when my friends are ov— OW!” “No, I don’t, stop being a brat.”

He gives you a wolfish smile when he sees you’re blushing after that. Narancia is too busy cursing out his brother to notice.

Sometimes he’ll come in with his hair tied up in a messy bun and wearing a tight tank top after a workout and…. You really do try your best not to let Narancia catch you staring

Because honestly, you feel a little guilty. Nara’s one of your best friends, and wouldn’t he think it’s gross if he found out you had the hots for his older brother?

But it’s not like he’s that much older. Only a few years. So maybe it wouldn’t be weird? No, best to forget it, you’re overthinking.

But that doesn't stop your heart from skipping a beat when Leone leans over you to grab a blanket on movie night or a video game controller if he’s joining you two for a game. Does this bastard honestly have to sit right next to you on the couch? There’s plenty of room!

Leone does not care. You’re so cute when he leans over you so that his chest is almost pressed against you… trying to hide the way your breath catches in your throat and keep from blushing. He’ll give you a casual shrug and a grin after, or a gravelly “sorry, doll” as he bites back a smirk and you try your best not to short circuit

I so think modern au/big brother Abba is into alt/punk types of fashion, so naturally it led to the thought that he plays in a punk band. He’s a bassist, but he probably does the occasional vocal feature, too. This means his fingertips are callused when they brush against yours mmm 👀

One time you come over when Narancia’s running late and Abbacchio is in the basement/the garage/whatever practicing with his band. When he lets you in, he tells you his brother isn’t home but that you’re welcome to hang while they practice. (You start coming over early now and then just for an excuse to watch)

Usually Leone shrugs off compliments about his playing, but when he asks, “so, what did you think, [bella/bello]?” And you excitedly tell him how great the band sounds, “and you especially!” he can’t help grinning and even blushing a bit.

Unbeknownst to you, his bandmates tease him ruthlessly because he always brushes off any groupies who try to flirt with him or compliment his music, yet here he is asking what you think of their songs, suggesting that you come check out their shows, even reaching around your back to guide your hands as he shows you how to play a few chords on his bass. And Abbacchio never lets anyone touch his bass.

“Like this, see? You want your fingers curved a bit over the fretboard, like this… yeah, exactly.” Seriously, Abbacchio repositioning and guiding your fingers, coaxing them to bend the right way with his steady hands as you feel his warm breath on your neck when he laughs. Fuck.

Sometimes the others will ask if his [girlfriend/boyfriend] is coming to practice to watch him blush as he snaps that he doesn’t know what they’re talking about because you aren’t dating.

Leone makes it a goal to flirt with you and sneak little looks or touches when Narancia’s back is turned, and it drives you crazy. It’s almost a little game to him to get you breathless and watch you blush

He has to get by you in the kitchen? His hand will linger on your waist and give a little squeeze. Sometimes he’ll scoot behind you in tighter spaces so he’s pressed right up against your ass for a moment

You feel zero remorse then when you wear something more revealing or do your makeup in a way that catches his eye.

“You look…. Really good today, [y/n]”

“Ew, gross, Leone, [he’s/she’s/they’re] too young for you!” “Shut up.” You blush as you tell Narancia that it's fine, really, and it was actually pretty sweet.

Play fighting for the “good” video game controller, Abbacchio using his long arms to hold it high over your head as you climb into his lap without even thinking to get a better reach. Suddenly you’re both much more focused on the compromising position, you straddling him and your faces inches apart. You stare at each other for a beat or two before you hear Narancia coming back in and shimmy off his lap. You get your ass kicked in whatever you’re playing because your brain is still rebooting from whatever the hell just happened.

You start shivering during a movie night and try to act like you’re not cold? He’s trying to act casual as he rolls his eyes and offers part of the blanket he’s using with a gruff “here.” You scoot closer to snuggle up under the blanket, but you’re more focused on the smell of his cologne and his shampoo than the movie now.

Bonus points if you end up in a really close position as you both get comfy and sleepy. Your head lolling onto his chest as you blink groggily and swear that you’re not sleepy? Excellent. Narancia will tease you if you fall asleep on each other. Expect photos.

If you show up to one of Abbacchio's shows? Pushing your way to the front row wearing some cute alt/punk look? God his heart is gonna stop right there

If he has a vocal feature on anything they’re playing that night, he will be singing straight to you.

Maybe, just maybe, he seeks you out after their set, pinning you up against the wall and making out with you. He gets black lipstick smeared all over you

Before you both sit down and talk about what it actually is you’re both doing and feeling, expect a few makeout sessions when Narancia isn’t home— Abbacchio pulling you into his lap and kissing you breathless.

When you eventually do tell Narancia you might be interested in Leone and you think he might feel the same, your friend just rolls his eyes. “Finally. Now you two can stop eye fucking across the room, it’s disgusting.”

But he’s smiling when he says that and he’s seriously happy for you guys. Once he’s certain of his brother’s intentions towards you, he’s entirely on board. You’re two of his favorite people in the world, and as long as you’re good to each other and you’re both happy, it’s fine by him

Once you’re officially dating, Abbacchio makes sure to get a good luck kiss from you before every concert.

Anyway, I wish I could draw because Abbacchio wearing ripped up black jeans with a chain or two… punk bassist Abbacchio who has plenty of piercings, maybe even a tongue piercing? He lives in my brain rent free and I want to make it everyone’s problem because I refuse to thirst alone

[another-fantasy-world]

The Idol’s Inspiration

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆      ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Title: The Idol’s Inspiration

Pairing: Valkyrae || Rachell x Fem! Reader

Summary: In which the international singer find’s her inspiration in a certain brown eyed-often screaming- streamer

Warnings: None? Fluff. Awkward Crushing. Top Rae? (Oh Gosh)

Word Count: 2,905 Words

@short-kid27​ helped me with this one. Go check her out she’s actually great

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆      ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

-

You scoffed when you saw what your bandmate tweeted out, tweeting as if he wasn’t using his phone either. Deciding to throw something at him, you spot a plastic perfume bottle, reaching out for it, only for Luna, your other bandmate to slap your hands of her perfume bottle.

“Don’t you dare.” She playfully glares before turning back to her original position, with her hair stylist tending to her long reddish-brown hair.

“Sebastian, you are so lucky you’re on the other side of the room right now or I swear to God, you would have a concussion.” You frowned, before turning back to your phone, further proving Sebastian’s point.

“See?! What are you even doing?” He loudly asks, you barely hearing him from the noise of blowdryers.

“Writing.” You answered, annoyed. It wasn’t a lie tho, You were now writing a new song, since your management once again are rushing you to write at least 12 songs for your new album.

“We wrote 3 songs yesterday. Calm down.” Your bassist, Luna reassured you, who just finished her glams.

“We’re supposed to be finished with this by the end of the month. How am I supposed to calm down?” You complained.

Ever since your band, Coldify, got enough attention, your management barely gave you enough time to just breathe and write like you used to, How were you supposed to produce quality music?

“Choco Milk?” Jace, your drummer offers you his second cup

“No thank you. Hot sweet things stress my throat. Maybe later though.” You stood up, thanking your stylists, before changing into your casual clothes, since you would be doing a Q and A session first as a soundcheck and also for extra fan service before the concert proper.

Once you finished changing, you walked out of your dressing room, only to find that your bandmates are now all set up, all except you.

Jace is fiddling with his drum sticks

Luna is tuning her bass guitar

And Sebastian is playing a random tune on his electric guitar.

You rolled your eyes at them, before slinging your own acoustic guitar over your shoulder, the familiar weight and pressure of it’s strap makes you smile.

“Are we ready guys? We can start now, there’s only 5 minutes left.” You asked them, plugging in your “in-ears”

They all nodded at you and you guys started to do your signature intro, you playing a few notes on your acoustic, followed by Sebastian and Luna, then you all run out, hearing the screams of your fans intensify, before Jace started banging on his drums, ending your intro with all of you guys harmonizing your band name and lifting your right arms up, showing the compass tattooed into the insides of your wrists, symbolizing your band and the friendship that will never grow old.

“What is up LA!?” You loudly said into the mic, chuckling when they screamed louder than your own mic.

“Well, we certainly need to up the mic volume later.” Luna giggled, sitting on one of the chairs positioned in the middle of the stage.

“Mhhmmn. Let’s all calm down first yes? You guys save your energy for later.” Sebastian winked into the crowd, also sitting on one of the chairs, with his mic in his hand.

“Great, great. We’re all settled in, Please sit down and let’s start this 1 and a half hour Q and A? Soundcheck? Fan service? Whatever you want to call this whole shebang.” You joked, thanking the staff that gave you your own water bottle.

“You know the drill, if you don’t that’s fine. My name is Luna and I am the one who plays the amazing silver-gray bass back there.” Luna introduces herself

“That amazing silver-gray bass that you would marry someday. I swear you are inlove with that thing.” Sebastian teased, earning him a loud smack to the shoulder.

“That is animal abuse. Stop it.” You hold in your laugh, but bursted out laughing anyways when you saw the appalled look on his face.

“My name is Jace. And I bang my sticks into a hallow cylindrical thing for a living. I heard they’re called drums but whatever. I also live with these idiots and I, unfortunately, am the one who holds their leashes.” Jace introduces himself, smiling into the crowd

“Okay, Father. My Name is Sebastian. aka the most attractive one in this group. I play the guitarrrrrr. You guys can call me Seb, Sebastian or Daddy. Your choice.” He winked.

“Ew.” All three of you pretended to gagged, before laughing at Sebastian’s pouting face, your audience also laughing at your antics.

“Okay- Okay, Stop. We need to be serious. Gosh. My name’s Y/N! And I’m your local sapphic lead singer. Yes, I need to say that everyday because people still debate that I’m straight. It’s annoying” You introduce, taking a sip of your water

“Right. So this is how it’s gonna work. There are multiple Coldify interrogators, as we call them, roaming around, all you have to do, is raise your hand, first one they see wins the first question. And the cycle continues until we run out of time.” You explained

“HmmHmmn. So are you guys ready?” Luna asks, earning a few “Yes!” and “WHOOOOO” making all you guys chuckle.

“Okaaaay! on 3. 1,2,3! OH! That redhead with the all black attire. I like that.” Sebastian calls, waiting for the guy in the uniform to hand the girl the mic.

“What’s your name love?” Jace asked the now blushing girl

“Ah. Kadie. I just wanna say that I am such a big fan and I wanted to know if, besides the tattoo you guys have right now, the compass, are you guys still planning on getting a matching tattoo?”

“Ooooh. Tattooes. Hmm. I personally would love to have another tattoo. But you see, Sebastian here cried when we first tattoed. And I am not looking forward to that at all.” Luna answered, laughing when Sebastian whined.

“Oh yeah. No. Not again.” Jace agreed, while you just smiled and nodded.

“Next Question Please.” Sebastian interjected before you could even talk

“Hi my name’s Catherine-” You guys interrupted her to say hi

“Hehe. Hi. Uhm, I wanted to know if you guys have like, favourite youtubers or streamers?” She asks shyly, which made you smile.

“Oooooo. Okay, now you guys get to know why I tweeted that earlier.” Sebastian chuckles

“Okay Mr. Snitch. But uhm. I would have to say... Sykkuno. His voice is just the best-”

“Excuse me? Corpse?! Hello? Corpse has the best voice don’t even. He’s my favourite, what you said was just Corpse slander” Sebastian interrupts Luna, to which Luna answered with a glare.

“Uh-huh. Okay. As I was saying, Corpse’s voice is good, but Syk’s is just this wholesome anime type voice that just melt’s your heart you know? He should be a voice actor for like, an anime protagonist. AND HIS PERSONALITY IS SO GOOD AND WHOLESOME LIKE WHAT THE FUCK?” Luna gushes, nodding to Jace before she goes on a full rant

“I’m sure you won’t match with him, expecially since he’s quiet and you’re loud and abnoxious.” Sebastian casually says

“You know what?”

“Pokimane...” Jace speaks into the mic, interrupting the siblings from fighting. “...Because she’s actually a really good gamer, and she also has a cat called called “Mimi” and that’s major points in my book.” Jace says, smiling.

“Hmm. That’s actually a tough choice... I would have to say-” You were interrupted when your phone let out a noise, letting you know you forgot to silent it.

“BABUSHKA!” Your face felt hot as you desperately tried to put your phone in silent, but it was too late.

“My phone just outed me what the hell?” You mumbled into the mic, hiding your face as you hear your fans laugh and coo at your cuteness and embarrassment.

“Anyways, if that didn’t answer your question, I don’t know what will. But uhm, Valkyrae. 100 percent. She’s just really skilled in video games and has probably played more games than me. Also, she’s absolutely fucking gorgeous and I just love her personality and all.” You smiled, still feeling a little bit embarrassed

“I just love her personality- Please, last night you fell asleep to her playing a horror game. She screams alot in that video, I’m just saying. How could you sleep to literally her screaming in your ear?” Sebastian shrugs, ignoring the glares you sent him

“Just this morning, you were frowning because there was another viper on the team Rae was fighting against in Valorant, and you accused that viper of being a copycat.” Jace added

“Or the fact that you always flinch, or dodge and curse whenever someone shoots at Rae-” Luna finishes making you cover her mouth before she says something more

“Okay. I think it’s pretty obvious that I have a crush on Valkyrae but please- Stop.” You grumbled, frowning playfully at your fans when they awed at your band’s interaction.

“Next Fucking Question Please.” You huffed, closing your eyes and leaning back into your seat, trying to settle your beating heart

Rae will for sure see that. Oh my god. Thoughts of Rae seeing your clip of literally simping for her has your heart running marathons.

“Hi! Uhm, this question is for Y/N”

You hear the gasps of your bandmates, but you pay no attention to it since you were still gay panicking inside

“What will you do if you ever met Valkyrae in person?” a familiar voice echoed in your ears, you of course can’t figure out who it is.

“I honestly don’t know how I would react. Maybe faint? But then probably hug her? I dunno? Kiss her cheek maybe? I mean, how would you react if you meet your long time crush?” You answered mindlessly, chuckling silently knowing that you probably faint and be knocked out for God knows how long. Or maybe you’d fumble and embarrass yourself.

You hear your bandmates join in the laughter with the audience, and that made you open your eyes, throwing a confused glace to Luna who just patted your back and made eye contact with who, you presume, asked the question.

You followed her gaze, eyes widening when you saw the brown-eyed brunette beauty holding the mic. Your brain lagged, trying to comprehend the situation.

“Uhm, I mean- Unless, You know? She’s uncomfortable about it. I don’t wanna make her uncomfy, you get me? First impressions are a thing. I mean- I’m just gonna shut up.” You just spat words out before your brain could even comprehend it.

Come on Y/N keep it together. She gotta think that you’re cool. Not an awkward gay mess.

“Pfft- Little too late for the first impressions that included you being cool.” Jace threw his empty water bottle at you

“...I said that aloud didn’t I?” You asked, now trying to hide your face behind Luna’s back, who’s doubling over from laughter

“Please, someone tag me when you decide to upload this very moment. I wanna blackmail Y/N with it.” Sebastian wheezed out.

“I think we can do something with the hugging thing. Just don’t faint on me.” Your eyes snapped to Rae’s as you see the smirk etched on her face, her hands still holding the microphone

Your eyes widen as your fans, screamed and a series of “OOOOOOHHHH” and “Get it Y/N!” erupted, making your embarrassment amplify even more.

“Is it embarrass Y/N day today? God, please- Next Question please. Oh Jesus.” You put your face in your hands, trying to hide.

Thankfully, they didn’t pry anymore, your embarrassment slowly subsiding as they asked about your daily life, career, albums and upcoming awards. After finishing a couple more questions, you guys sang a couple cover songs, and that’s what concluded your soundcheck. (Sebastian managed to sneak in Janet’s PETTY song, which you rolled your eyes on but sang nonetheless.)

You walked out and to the backstage as you shoved Sebastian playfully for making kissy faces.

“Y/N and Rachell sitting on a tree-” He was suddenly cut off by someone

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G” Your gaze wonders to Pokimane, or Imane who just interrupted Sebastian

“Kissing?! Isn’t it a bit too early for that? Why would they kiss-” Sykkuno says glancing between Rae and I

You wondered if they said anything else because you’re going to be honest to yourself, you were only looking at Rae’s eyes. The deep brown orbs you only ever saw through your screen, was now staring right back at you, her brunette hair tied up in a bun- She’s staring back at you.

Quickly averting your eyes, you felt yourself grow shy, you now also find your shoes very attractive.

“Keep your head up or else you would faint on me and I don’t want that. I prefer to hug a conscious person, Thank you very much.” you lifted your head so fast you could’ve given yourself a whiplash. Darting your eyes around Rae, you quickly find that your friends + Imane and Sykkuno have left the both of you alone.

“Sorry. You just caught me off guard there. Hi! Uhm. I really don’t know what to say to you- Uhm.” You rub the back of your neck, nervously smiling at Rae you in turn smirked at you, raising her brow in the process.

She quietly chuckles before opening her arms, signaling for a hug, to which you launched yourself in, trying not to breathe because that would be so weird.

“Okay so now can you take out your knife and stab me just to make sure that this is real.” You stated, looking directly into her eyes

“...But I’m not the Impostor?”

“...Okay that’s clever-” You laughed, taking a sip out of your water bottle, leading her to your dressing room

“Speaking of, do you mind if I play with you guys sometimes? I’ll find time, I promise.” You say, watching the time considering you only have half an hour to change and get ready, not to mention your crush is right in front of you as well.

“Wait really? Yeah! Just DM me on twitter! I’ll organize a lobby just for you.” She replies, plopping herself on the sofa you have.

“Awe, I feel so... special” You smiled, finally composing yourself, emerging from behind the curtains, already in your performance outfit

“The almighty Creator of the Year, creating a lobby? For lil ol m-” You were greeted with a facefull of pillows thrown at you, just for that statement. Which made you laugh.

“Shut up.” She grinned

“I’m sorry, m’lady” You curtsied playfully, expecting her to start smacking your shoulders, instead when you lifted your head up, she was just sitting there with a soft smile on her face.

“You’re wearing my merch.” She stated

You widened your eyes then looked down, the hoodie that you just randomly picked up was her merch.

“I’m sorry, do you want it back?” You spit the words out before your mind could comprehend how idiotic that sounded

Rae bursted out laughing at your statement, putting her hand over her mouth while doubling over. You rolled your eyes at her and plopped down on the sofa, crossing your arms.

“Yeah, Yeah. Go on. Laugh. At least I can spell broccoli right.” You teased, poking her side

“OKAY! LISTEN HERE HOTSHOT! I-”  she was interrupted by a series of knocks on the door.

“Y/N! PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE DECENT AND IS NOT SEDUCING RAE BECAUSE THAT’S JUST WRONG” Sebastian loudly asked through the door

“Oh My God. Please just kill me.” You rubbed your face with your hands

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be the one doing the seducing but okay.” You hear her mumble under her breath, making you look at her with a scandalized look on your face

“DOOR’S UNLOCKED SEBASTIAN. DON’T BE AN IDIOT..” You replied

“Don’t mind him Y/N We’re just coming in to say that you have 5 minutes until we have to go onstage.” Luna softly replies, shoving Sebastian out your field of view.

“I’ll be right there Lune.” You stood up, smiling at Rae

“I guess that’s it. I’ll talk to you later? I think? Just check your DM’s soon yeah?” She pulls you into a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulls away.

“Good Luck out there. I know you’ll do great.” She smiles, walking out, leaving you to your thoughts

“Huh?” You touched your cheek, a smile slowly paints itself upon your face

"Come on, lovergirl we're running late." Jace drapes his arm around your shoulder

"She kissed my cheek." You say, still shocked

"Lucky You." Jace says, his ears reddening.

...lucky bastard

"POKI KISSED YOU TOO DIDN'T SHE?!" You screeched

'Hush!" His cheeks are also red now.

"Huh. I guess today's our lucky day." You grinned, now extremely happy and hyped

"Oh, check your e-mail now by the way. Manager says she sent our line up there." he pats your back, getting into his position, as best as he can considering the stage is now pitch black

"Huh. Okay." You pulled out your phone, sending a piece of paper flying. Bending down to pick it up, you feel your heart soften into mush and then it decides to run another marathon.

Just incase my Twitter DM's don't work, or if I'm streaming. xx 09-xxx-xxx-xxx

"Be still, my beating heart." You sighed out

Valkyrae just gave you her phone number

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

Ex-DELAIN Frontwoman CHARLOTTE WESSELS Comments On Band's Comeback With New Singer

In an interview with Spain's The Metal Circus TV, former DELAIN frontwoman Charlotte Wessels was asked how she feels about the fact that the band recently made a comeback with a new lineup. Last month, DELAIN released a single, "The Quest And The Curse", featuring keyboardist, founder and main songwriter Martijn Westerholt alongside new singer Diana Leah, original guitarist Ronald Landa and original drummer Sander Zoer, plus bassist Ludovico Cioffi. Charlotte said: "I'm trying not to engage with it too much, honestly. I've seen positive responses about it, which I think is good. But I do try to keep some distance and just focus on what I'm doing rather than checking that out, because I still don't feel like that will make me happier per se."

In February 2021, Westerholt announced the dissolution of DELAIN's previous lineup. At the time, he explained: "For the last year or so, the collaboration within the band ceased to work as well as it once had. Some of us were no longer happy with the current roles in the band. We all tried very hard to find a solution for over a year, but sadly we were unable to find one. As a result, we will all be going our own ways and pursuing our own endeavors.

"I am very sad our cooperation has come to end, but at the same time I am very grateful for all the years we were able to work together. Together we toured the world, shared highs and lows, and met with many successes as well as times that pushed us to learn and grow. We all enjoyed meeting our fans and making new friends all over the globe."

At the time, Wessels said about her departure: "I know that you might have questions about the 'why' in all of this. I fully understand and respect that. Simply put, it is the sad conclusion of more than a year of trying to find solutions to built-up grievances. Part of me feels like I'm letting all of you down, I'd like you to know that this decision was not taken lightly and I apologize to those of you who had high hopes of seeing all of us together live on stage again after lockdown. Until recently, I thought this might still be in the cards for us as well."

[nooneactuallyasked]

Diner Gal - Reggie x Reader Part 7

Requested: It’s a series, there are no requests here!

Word count: 1,333

Warnings: Cursing and weirdos-

Summary: Julie and the Phantoms ( + Flynn ) go to a musical diner/café/restaurant for inspiration and hopefully a future gig but they end up meeting a very special waitress.

Note: The plot thickens…

I’m so dumb, I’ve been writing out parts/chapters like a robot and forgetting to post them, send help lol. Anyway, enjoy!

Part 1 here    Part 2 here    Part 3 here    Part 4 here

Part 5 here    Part 6 here    Part 6.5 here

---

“Cal?” Y/N called out, looking around. So much for an early shift so she could leave early. If Cal wasn’t there then her shift didn’t start and that was the last thing she needed when she also had to do rounds and show him the tapes and – well, you get the idea. “Cal!”

“What are you looking for?”

Y/N frowned and turned around, her eyes narrowed and focusing in on a boy standing a few feet away from her. “Who are you? And why are you here, it’s not opening time yet.” She felt a growing unease settle in the pit of her stomach, where was Cal when you needed him? Hopefully, his amazing dramatic timing would kick in and she would be saved from the weird atmosphere.

“Oh, I’m here for Cal. But you may speak to him first.” The boy, which she had now deemed “Blondie”, then stepped back, lifting himself into a sitting position on one of the tables. “How extremely kind of you, Blondie.” Y/N rolled her eyes, sarcasm obviously dripping from her mouth, which the boy either didn’t catch or chose to ignore.

“Cal! If you’re just deciding to ignore me I will skin you alive!”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the silence, turning back to the boy only to find him slumped on the floor against the table leg. “Uh…Blondie? You alright there, bud?”

“He’ll be fine, Cal’s not in right now so go on your way.” Y/N turned to face the new voice, her eyes searching the badly lit room. Why hadn’t she turned on the light! Oh yeah, she was supposed to be the only one here with the exception of Cal.

The voice was deeper, more sinister but not menacing, not yet, “Okay, who are you and does no one realise that we’re closed? There’s a sign for a reason!”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at the lack of answer, “Okay, mystery shadow man, can I call you that?” “Well- “ “You know what, I don’t care I’m calling you it anyway. So, mystery shadow man, do you mind either explaining or leaving because I have a shift to start and Cal needs to be here before that starts and legally you can’t be here since we’re closed. Bye.” She made her way over to the side door and opened it wide, adding extra drama by flourishing her arm in the same direction, “Stop by some other time when we’re actually open.”

“Alright, but before I go, you’re welcome. I’ll be back soon enough.” A low and sinister chuckle filled the air as the man made his way over to the door, “Okay, Creepy McGee, that’s great and all but you still need to leave. Goodbye.” Y/N grabbed the man by what she could now discern as a purple cloak/overcoat and pushed him out of the door. “Have a great day, sir. I hope to see you at Le Paradis du Chanteur very soon, preferably during the times we’re open. Goodbye.” She plastered her customer service smile on her face before slamming the door in his face. What is it with some people and just going, ‘Restaurant? Give me food. I won’t pay or even look at the sign to see if it’s even open.’ They act like cavepeople.

Y/N’s eyes widened when she remembered the blonde boy still unconscious in the dining area. “Of course it’s today of all fucking days.” She grumbled under her breath as she raced back to where she left the boy.

“Blondie?”

.

.

.

“Okay, what the fuck is happening today? Where the hell did he go? And it’s only 6 in the morning…great.”

---

“Alright, fess up. Who put this in my pocket? And just so you know, it doesn’t even work.”

Julie knew who did it, it was obviously Reggie. He was the only one that was dumb enough, and Julie meant this in the nicest way, to believe that it could be any of the three boys that would ask her to call Y/N. If Julie hadn’t found it so funny she might have been slightly annoyed but the note beside the old, broken flip phone that her dad used before her mum forced a new one into his hands just made her smile, it was so innocent:

“Call Y/N because her voice is nice and pretty and I want to hear it.

-        The band :D”

Yeah, it was obvious, but making him spit it out was so much more entertaining. Reggie flushed and screwed up his face in thought, she wouldn’t catch him out if he said it was all of them, would she? No, he’d be fine.

“Well, who does it say it’s from?”

“ ‘The band’ “

“Then there’s your answer!”

“Reggie…I’m not stupid, just admit it was you.”

“…How did you figure it out?”

Julie rolled her eyes though a small smile played on her lips, “Who else would ask for Y/N because her, and I quote, “voice is pretty and I want to hear it.” Alex and Luke glanced at each other, before bursting out into laughter. Reggie gaze turned to the floor as his ears turned red, “I don’t know, probably a lot of people.”

“Sometimes I wonder why we keep you, then I remember we need a bassist.”

---

“Hey Cal! Calina! Calerella! Callie!”

“You know you could just come and find me instead of screaming a bunch of weird nicknames into the open air until I finally hear you.” Cal came out from the staff room and rolled his eyes at the sight of Y/N rocking back and forth on her heels whilst playing with a table cloth. “Oh I know, dear Cal, but this is so much more fun, don’t you think?” She grinned before summoning her serious business face, “Okay, here are my notes on all the performers we have, Julie and her himbos- I mean Julie and the Phantoms is first, I have the video on my phone too.”

She reached over to the table she was next to and lifted a pile of papers, all colour coded to the performer’s atmospheric colour (as she called it), and looking monstrously tall. “I’ll get started on that after we close. If you don’t mind staying behind, you know how much I need and value your input.” Y/N smiled at that, Cal was like her cool Uncle and it always made her happy to know how much he appreciated her. She walked to him, arms still full.

“Sure, old man. I’ll go put these in your office for later.” She nudged her shoulder against his, grinning as she did so, before walking out to the staff room.

---

“Alright, Callerina. I’ve given you all I have to offer, so I shall be heading home now. Plus, I’m not being paid for after-hours so, you know.” She shrugged, a grin easing onto her face. Cal looked up at her as she stood up, “My company is payment enough, obviously.” Y/N rolled her eyes and shifted her weight as she pulled her work bag onto her shoulder. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.” Cal gasped dramatically as Y/N walked to the door, “Listen here, missy, I’ll dock your pay if you don’t show me the respect I deserve!”

“No! Not my pay!” She leaned against the door frame, bringing a hand to rest on her forehead as she ‘fainted’. She caught Cal’s eyes and they both burst out laughing, definitely a cool Uncle and his favourite niece.

“Okay, see you later, Cal. Have a great night!” Y/N waved goodbye as she walked out the door, giving him one last smile. Cal sighed after the door had closed “I don’t what I’d do without that girl, honestly.”

.

.

.

“Hello, Cal. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Wh-who are you?”

“You don’t need to know that right now, just know we’ll be very close in the future.”

 “The curtains haven’t closed on me yet, boys. I hope you’re prepared.”

---

Tag list:

@hereforthejatp    @slutforjjmaybank

@morganayennefertyrell    @dxestars

@ dcnerd98    @ultraworthlessbitch

@ revolutionary-werewolf-ghosts

@ underc0vercryptid    @miisacore

[calumcest]

i want to teach you a lesson (in the worst kind of way)

me writing 5.6k in 4 hours and pretending my essays/presentation/exams/dissertation don’t exist? it’s more likely than you think

thank u jex for listening to me scream abt this for the past 4 hours and for always being the sweetest and most encouraging person in the world you are truly such a positive influence in my life 

also this is based off a prompt i got i think in 2014 never say i don’t provide! i would link the post but honestly it’s just got my 16 year old self’s embarrassing screams on it so frankly i would rather not so instead i will provide you with a screenshot of the ask under the cut 

[ao3]

-

“Who’s that, sir?” Lily asks, jabbing at the window.

“The new PE teacher,” Michael says.

“He’s cute,” Sarah says, and a couple of the girls nod vigorously.

“He’s also twice your age,” Michael says. “Go on, off to your practice rooms.” The girls groan, but one by one pull themselves away from the window and start to wander off. Michael stays by the window, one eye on the girls to make sure they actually go where they’re supposed to and one eye on the new PE teacher, who’s dividing the class up into groups and handing out footballs. He is kind of hot, Michael supposes, if you’re into muscular guys who are clearly good at sports. Which Michael most definitely is.

-

Michael Clifford loves his job. 

Sure, the staff room politics can get a bit exhausting (although Michael would be lying if he didn’t admit to loving all the drama he wasn’t personally involved in), and the kids can drive him up the fucking wall, but at the end of the day, there’s nothing he’d rather be doing than teaching. 

Except today. Today, when a good portion of 10C has somehow exploded into an argument over whether or not Julia snatched a guitar when Sam was about to take it, he thinks he’d rather be a human guinea pig for infectious diseases, or something. It probably pays better, anyway.

“Sam,” he says sternly, and he turns to look at Michael, anger written all over his face. “There are plenty of guitars in the cupboard. Let Julia have that one.”

“But sir, that’s the only one which-” 

“I don’t care,” Michael says, holding up a hand, because he’s perfectly aware that it’s the only guitar which stays in tune longer than thirty seconds. He’s been begging for a budget increase since the day he joined the school. “It’s one lesson, it’s not an exam, you can deal with it for forty-five minutes.” 

“But Mr Clifford-” Lucy pipes up, ready to defend Sam. 

“No, Lucy,” he says firmly. “I want all of you in the practice rooms, now.” Sam glares at him furiously and stomps off without an instrument in his hands, Lucy and Pip running behind him to one of the practice rooms outside the main classroom. Michael decides he’s got enough on his plate without inserting himself into hormonally-charged teenage drama, so he lets them go, rounding on Noel and Olivia, who are still arguing with Julia, Brandon hovering awkwardly nearby. 

“I don’t want to hear anything else about this,” Michael cuts in, and Noel and Olivia round on Michael instead. 

“Sir, she stole it from-”

“He was about to pick it u-”

“I don’t want to spend my lunchtime in detention, and unless you two do I suggest you get your instruments and go to your practice rooms,” Michael says curtly, trying to refrain from pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He’s getting a stress-induced headache already, and it’s the first lesson of the day. 

“Fine,” Olivia spits, full of the kind of melodrama only a fifteen-year-old can summon, and Michael tries not to roll his eyes as they stalk off to one of the practice rooms at the back of the classroom without so much as another glance in his direction. He’s pretty sure he hears one of them mutter fuck you under their breath as they walk away, and he feels momentarily bad before he remembers they’ll have forgotten about it by their next lesson. 

“Don’t do it again,” is all he says tiredly to Julia, who nods meekly, and scampers off to join her group in one of the other practice rooms at the back of the classroom. That being sorted, Michael turns back to the rest of the class, to find about eight of the girls gathered at the window, chattering excitedly. 

“That doesn’t look like composing a short piece on three instruments to me,” he says, wandering over, and a bunch of the girls look back at him with a look of excitement on their faces. 

“Who’s that, sir?” Lily asks, jabbing at the window and leaving a mark. Michael peers over their heads to see a distant figure standing on the field with a class that looks like it might be 7A. All he can make out is that it’s a guy, with what looks like a mess of dark brown hair and a couple of tattoos on his (very muscular, Michael notes with approval) arms that he’s waving around, clearly explaining something. 

Michael vaguely remembers Paula, the headmistress, saying something about a new PE teacher starting this week, but he’d been too busy whisper-explaining to Luke why Magic: The Gathering was a great game and he should definitely play it with Michael to remember what she’d said the guy was called. 

“The new PE teacher,” he says, hoping they won’t ask what he’s called.

“He’s cute,” Sarah says, and a couple of the girls nod vigorously.

“He’s also twice your age,” Michael says. “Go on, off to your practice rooms.” The girls groan, but one by one pull themselves away from the window and start to wander off. Michael stays by the window, one eye on the girls to make sure they actually go where they’re supposed to and one eye on the new PE teacher, who’s dividing the class up into groups and handing out footballs. He is kind of hot, Michael supposes, if you’re into muscular guys who are clearly good at sports. Which Michael most definitely is. 

Huh, he thinks, pushing himself away from the window and heading to the first practice room to make sure Noel, Olivia and Brandon have calmed down a bit. Sarah’s kind of right. 

 ------- 

 Michael has a free period fourth period, and even if he usually wouldn’t be seen dead on the field, it’s a beautiful day, and it is on the route to the staff room. Well, it’s on a route to the staff room, at least, and if that route happens to be five minutes longer than simply walking through the building and over the quad, then Michael doesn’t need to know about it. He could do with the exercise, he tells himself. It’s nothing to do with the new PE teacher. 

When Michael gets down to the field, the PE teacher’s gathering up the footballs from the previous lesson and stuffing them in the big netted bag that’s been threatening to break for about five years. He turns around after picking up the last one and spots Michael (who is definitely not staring) cutting across the top part of the field. He raises a hand, and Michael’s not really sure if he’s waving or telling him to get the fuck off the field, but then he’s gathering the bag in one hand and jogging over, and Michael’s absolutely not watching the lines of his muscles as he makes his way over. 

“Hi!” the guy says, grinning widely, and fucking hell, he’s even hotter up close. He’s got dark brown eyes, crinkled at the corners with the brilliant smile currently gracing his full lips, and his dark hair is curled, falling into his face slightly. “I’m Calum. Calum Hood. I’m new.” 

“I’m Michael Clifford,” Michael says. “I’m not.” He curses inwardly as soon as the words have left his lips - he should be legally restricted from talking to hot guys, honestly - but Calum laughs, laughs, and it’s not fake, if the twinkle in his eyes is anything to go by. 

“I gathered,” he says. “So, what do you teach?” 

“Music,” Michael says. “You’re PE?” Calum nods. 

“Music’s my second, though,” he says. 

“Oh?” Michael wants to die. Of course hot PE guy can teach Music, of all things. He was literally crafted by God to upset Michael. 

“Yeah,” Calum says, with a smile. “I mean, I’m sure I’m nowhere near as good as you, but I play guitar, and a little piano. Bass is my real love, though.” 

“Bass?” Michael says, trying his best not to imagine Calum’s long fingers flying across a fretboard. 

“Yeah,” Calum says. “I played in a band, for a bit, but, y’know.” He gestures at himself. “Clearly didn’t work out.” 

“That’s pretty fucking cool, though,” Michael says, genuinely impressed. “And hey, bassist to secondary school PE teacher is an upgrade.” Calum laughs. 

“Fuck you, man,” he says, but he’s grinning, and Michael feels a warmth spreading from his toes to his cheeks. “Hey, are you heading to the staff room?” Michael nods. “Mind if I tag along? I’m still finding my way around.” 

“Sure,” Michael says, shrugging and hoping it conceals the fact that he kind of wants to turn back to the safety of his music room and bang his head on the wall until he forgets someone as perfect as Calum Hood exists on the same planet as him. 

“Sweet,” Calum says, beaming at him as he holds up the bag of footballs. “Let me just lock these in the shed and I’ll be right with you.” 

Yeah, sweet, Michael thinks, as Calum turns on his heel and jogs away from Michael over to the tiny shed in the corner of the field which houses all the outdoor equipment. Not like Michael’s already head over heels in love, or anything. 

Sweet. 

 ------- 

 Calum’s officially introduced in the staff room at lunchtime on his first day, but Michael has lunch duty on a Monday so he misses it. Luke and Ashton tell him Calum’s a big hit in the staff room, “really charming, and have you seen his arms?”, which just puts Michael in a bad mood, because he now has competition. 

It’s three days before Michael bumps into Calum again, in his free second period, which he’s spending catching up on all the marking that was due, like, two weeks ago and is still unfinished. 

“Hey, Michael!” Calum says cheerfully, sitting down opposite Michael at the desk that he’s entirely covered with a careful class-organised system of marking. “Oh, shit, are you busy?” 

“No,” Michael says immediately, because what’s his job compared to conversation with the hottest guy in Australia? “What’s up?” Calum shrugs. 

“Just wanted a chat,” he says. “Haven’t seen you in a few days. You been hiding from me?” His eyes are twinkling as he says it, and it makes Michael’s stomach flip, because it’s pretty friendly for a guy he’s met once. If Michael were anyone else, he would say Calum might almost be flirting. Maybe Calum’s just like that, though. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. 

“Been catching up on marking,” Michael says, indicating all the papers on the desk. “I’m literally going to stop setting homework, I swear to God.” 

“Can’t say I relate,” Calum says, with a grin. “Perks of being a PE teacher.” 

“Yeah, but you have to deal with, like, concussions, and shit,” Michael says, capping his pen. 

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and all that,” Calum says breezily, and Michael snorts. 

“Typical PE teacher,” he says. “I could have had my leg cut off and my PE teacher would have made me keep running.” Calum smirks. 

“Well, you have another leg, don’t you?” he says, and laughs when Michael scowls. “I’m kidding. I’d let you do push ups instead.” Michael rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. 

“How generous,” he says. Calum grins back at him, and Michael’s heart does a fucking backwards somersault, or something ridiculous. 

“That’s what you get for saying PE teacher is an upgrade from bassist,” he says. 

“Hey, that’s just the natural order of things,” Michael says. “It’s not my fault bass is at the bottom of the musical food chain.” 

“What’s music without the rhythm section?” Calum says, stretching, and Michael tries his best not to stare at the sliver of skin that’s exposed under his shirt. 

“Acoustic?” Michael offers, and Calum huffs out a laugh, bringing his arms (and shirt, Michael thinks wistfully) back down. 

“Fuck,” he says agreeably. “Guess my band could have carried on without me.” 

“What kind of music did you play?” Michael asks. Calum shrugs. 

“A bit of everything,” he says. “We started on All Time Low, Fall Out Boy, that kind of a thing, got more Radiohead and Tame Impala vibes as we went on.” Jesus Christ. Michael has literally died and gone to heaven, because there is absolutely no way a man this perfect exists anywhere other than in Michael’s imagination. 

“Mate, I fucking love All Time Low,” Michael says, and a smile unfurls on Calum’s lips. 

“Have you heard their new album?” 

“Yeah,” Michael says. “Fuck, Monsters? What a fucking tune.”

“Right?” Calum says enthusiastically. “And Basement Noise?” 

“Fucking sick,” Michael agrees. 

“You’ve got good taste,” Calum says approvingly. Michael opens his mouth to say something - you’re just saying that to get in my pants is on the tip of his tongue - but he’s interrupted (or possibly saved from eternal embarrassment) by Ashton sitting down heavily next to him. 

“Hey, Michael,” he says, throwing a dimpled smile in his direction. “Hey, Calum.”

“Hey, Ashton,” Calum says. “How’s the Year 10 clay project coming along?”

“Oh, you know,” Ashton says, leaning back in his seat and pushing his curls out of his face. “Two busts have been decapitated so far, so we’re doing pretty well, all things considered.” 

“Nice,” Michael says approvingly. 

“I know you’re talking about the decapitations, Mike, you don’t fool me,” Ashton says knowingly. Michael scowls. 

“Was it Sam?” he asks, needing to know who to high-five in his next lesson.

“No, Noel,” Ashton says. 

“10C? Short kid, really fucking fast?” Calum asks. Michael shrugs. How is Michael supposed to know how fast he is? It’s not like Noel’s Naruto running through the music room. 

“Yeah,” Ashton says, because apparently Noel’s Naruto running through the art room. 

“He’s really fucking good with a ball,” Calum says, and Michael bites back an awful innuendo with a lot of difficulty. Not in front of Ashton, he tells himself. 

“He’s lacking a passion,” Ashton says. “He’s good at art, but he messes around too much.” 

“Same with Music,” Michael says. “He’s got a temper on him, too.” 

“Well, maybe I can get him to channel it into football,” Calum says seriously. “Kids need an outlet, and something they feel like they’re good at. He needs something to be proud of.” 

Fuck, Michael thinks, as Ashton enthusiastically responds in kind, staring at Calum as he nods along to whatever Ashton’s saying with a thoughtful frown. He’s definitely in love. 

 ------- 

 Calum and Michael fall into a bit of a routine. 

They don’t share a lot of free periods together, only the fourth on Monday and second on Thursday, but Michael will wait at the corner of the field for Calum to finish clearing up after his last lesson and they’ll walk to the staff room together, sitting and chatting shit for an hour about nothing in particular. 

Michael learns that Calum’s got a sister, Mali, who’s in the music industry and whom he’s incredibly proud of, and that he’s half-Kiwi, half-Scottish, and grew up in western Sydney, not too far from Michael. He learns that Calum loves dogs more than he loves either bass or football, loves his dog (Duke) more than he loves anything else on the planet, likes playing Fifa and eating ice cream, and that his biggest fear is not having an impact on the world. He learns that Calum genuinely loves teaching, that Noel’s finding his feet with football and he’s really enjoying it, and that Calum almost went professional with football. 

(“Is there anything you aren’t fucking talented at?” Michael says grumpily, when Calum tells him that. Calum laughs. 

“Asking cute boys out,” he says, throwing Michael a grin, and Michael’s stomach flips.) 

And so he also learns that Calum’s gay, and that he’s been single his whole life. 

(“Are you serious? Michael says incredulously. Calum shrugs. 

“I’m not a blushing virgin, Michael,” he says, seeing the look on Michael’s face, and Michael scowls. 

“I didn’t say you were,” Michael says sullenly, but he’s secretly more than a little jealous of these nameless, faceless boys that have had the honour of fucking Calum Hood.) 

Of course, Michael’s not the only one in the school to notice Calum. 

A majority of the girls, and a good number of the boys, sing Calum’s praises to Michael every opportunity they get. He hears them talking in the corridors when Calum breezes past, smiling at them but eyes lighting up when he brushes past Michael (which Michael tries desperately not to think about when he’s staring out of the window daydreaming in the middle of a lesson). The staff are no better, either - Brenda and Caroline have been gossiping about Calum’s muscles so loudly that Michael only half-jokingly threatened to file a sexual harassment suit against them on his behalf. 

One thing that having an incredibly hot PE teacher has done wonders for, though, is school morale. 

It’s the only reason Michael’s standing at the corner of a wet field on a freezing May afternoon, wrapped in a thick coat and scarf and somehow still shivering, huddled between Luke and Ashton, whom he’d bribed-slash-threatened to join him because he didn’t want to be too obvious about it. 

(“Mike, I don’t think you could be less obvious about being in love with Calum if you tried,” Luke had said, rolling his eyes, but then Michael had pulled out his trump card - he’d give Luke his coveted spot in the corner of the staff room - and Luke had agreed to go.) 

“I fucking hate you,” Luke mumbles into the scarf currently covering a good half of his face. “I’m so fucking cold. This is not worth it to get you laid.”

“Fuck you,” Michael says automatically, eyes on Calum. He’s shouting encouragement and tactics at the Year 12 football team - not that Michael can hear it above the cheers and boos from the rest of the school and their opposition - but he looks so fucking good, brow creased as he focuses on the game. 

“Are there usually this many people at football games?” Ashton asks, looking around in wonder. “There aren’t, are there?”

“How d’you expect us to know?” Luke asks, exasperated. “We’re not usually at football games either.” 

“We’re being good friends,” Ashton tells Luke, a little sternly, and Luke huffs, but doesn’t say anything else. 

Their team scores, and the crowd erupts into cheers, because it’s now only two minutes until the end of the game and they’re two-one up, so it’s unlikely the result will change. Calum still looks determined, though, muttering something to Ben, the Year 12 captain, who nods and jogs back across the bitch to prepare for the kick-off. 

“I hate this,” Luke whines after a minute, because that’s apparently as long as he can keep quiet without reminding everyone how miserable he is. “This is why I’m a Maths teacher.” 

“Shut up,” Michael says, and then the final whistle blows and Calum’s face is finally relaxing, tension dissipating from his posture as he cheers with the rest of the crowd. 

“Calum looks really good tonight,” Ashton says, sending a glance in Michael’s direction.

“Alright, fuck me, I guess,” Luke grumbles. Ashton rolls his eyes. 

“You’re such a fucking bitch sometimes,” he says, but he looks around furtively before snaking his arm around Luke’s waist and giving it a quick squeeze. 

“Everyone knows you’re fucking,” Michael comments, still staring at Calum. “You don’t have to be sly about it.” 

“No they don’t,” Luke says, leaning into Ashton’s touch. 

“Yes, they do,” Michael says, and then he forgets what he was going to say next because Calum makes eye contact with him from across the pitch and gives him a huge grin, and Michael’s stomach bottoms out. “Fuck, he’s grinning at me.” 

“Well, grin back, idiot,” Ashton says, so Michael does. Calum holds his gaze for a moment, and then turns back to his team, leaving Michael feeling a little unsteady. 

“I’m in love,” he declares, for the nintieth time that week. 

“We know,” Luke says grumpily. 

 ------- 

 Michael’s halfway through marking 8A’s elements of music test when there’s a knock at the door. He looks up, expecting to see Luke or Ashton, not Calum. He looks out of place in his football kit in the music room, and Michael’s brain short-circuits as it tries to reconcile a hot man in Michael’s music room. 

“Hey,” he says, sticking his head around the door. “Am I disturbing you?”

“No,” Michael says, because Calum could walk in on him taking a shit and wouldn’t be disturbing him. “What’s up?” Calum steps into the room, clicking the door shut behind him, and throws himself down on a seat opposite Michael’s desk.

“So,” he says. “You know All Time Low are here next weekend?” Michael nods. He’s planning on going with Luke and Ashton. “I might have got two tickets to Sunday night.” 

“That’s sick,” Michael enthuses. “Who are you going with?” Calum throws Michael an odd look, somewhere between exasperation and amusement. 

“Well, I was hoping you’d want to come?” he says. Michael blinks. 

“Me?” he says. 

“Yeah,” Calum says, and there’s definitely a hint of amusement in his tone now. 

“I, uh.” Michael’s not really sure how to speak without saying yes, please, and please let me suck your dick while I’m at it. He swallows, hoping it’ll make the words disappear from the tip of his tongue. “I’d fucking love to.” Calum grins, looking relieved, and Michael realises that he must have been nervous . Something about that sends a thrill coursing through his veins - he’d made Calum nervous, somehow. 

“Sweet,” he says happily. “Text me your address? I’ll pick you up at five.” Michael just nods, not really trusting himself to speak, and Calum pulls himself up out of the chair, throwing him one last smile before he leaves the room. 

Fuck, Michael thinks, as the door swings shut behind Calum, pulling his phone out to Google how to fall out of love with a colleague. 

(It doesn’t help him at all.) 

 ------- 

 Next Sunday comes around faster than Michael had expected, given how much he’s been thinking about it. 

Luke and Ashton had been a little incensed when he’d told them he was no longer going with them but with Calum.

(“What?” Luke had said crossly. “Michael, you already bought your ticket.” 

“Yeah, but it’s a choice between third-wheeling you or one-on-one time with the love of my life,” Michael says dramatically. “What do you expect me to choose?”) 

At five to five, Michael’s sat in his living room, leg jiggling nervously as he checks his phone every two milliseconds just in case he’s somehow missed a notification from Calum in the time it’s taken him to blink. 

Calum, though, doesn’t even text to say he’s arrived, just rings the doorbell at five on the dot, scaring Michael shitless. 

“Hi,” Calum says, smiling, when Michael opens the door. He’s wearing a Nine Inch Nails shirt and straight-leg blue jeans, which should look incredibly nineties and not good at all, but somehow makes Michael want to drop to his knees right there and then. Although, he supposes, that’s what Michael wants to do regardless of what Calum is wearing, so it’s probably nothing to do with that. “You look gorgeous.” Michael has to bite his cheek to check whether he’s still alive and not, like, ascended to heaven.

“Thanks,” Michael mumbles when his mouth floods with pain and it becomes clear that yes, he is actually still alive, feeling heat rise to his cheeks from the sheer intimacy of this moment with a colleague-slash-friend-slash-soulmate-but-he-doesn’t-know-it. He’s so used to seeing Calum in the context of school that it feels strange to see him in normal clothes, standing on Michael’s doorstep. 

“Are you ready, or, like, d’you want me to stand here all evening?” Calum says after a moment, and Michael steps out of the house with a scowl. 

“Fuck you,” he says, trailing behind Calum as they walk to his car. 

“Maybe if you’re lucky,” Calum says, and Michael chokes on his next breath. Calum, however, doesn’t seem to notice, as he’s getting into the car and starting the engine. Michael takes the opportunity to splutter for a second, re-learning how to breathe for the first time in twenty-five years, and takes a deep breath before getting in the passenger side of the car. 

“What d’you reckon’s going to be on the set list?” Calum asks, reversing out of Michael’s driveway and setting off down the street. Michael hums in consideration. 

“Aside from the obvious?” he says. 

“No, Michael, tell me that Dear Maria’s going to be on the set list,” Calum says sarcastically. Michael scowls. 

“I’d punch you if you weren’t driving,” he tells Calum, and Michael sees him grin in the dim light. 

“I’ve found my shield,” Calum says, running a stop sign. Michael squawks as they swerve into the road, grabbing onto the handle on the door. Calum rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’ve seen how you drive.” 

“Fuck off,” Michael says, scowling, but he can’t deny it. Speed is more important than safety, is his motto - mainly because he always sets off at least ten minutes late. 

“So?” Calum prompts. “Set list?” 

“I hope Monsters,” Michael says. “But honestly? I’d love some of the older stuff on there too.” 

“Yeah, I miss Stella being on the set list,” Calum says wistfully. 

“You saw them when Stella was on the set list?” 

“Yeah,” Calum says, a tad smug, and okay, fuck him. 

“Fuck,” Michael says, and he can’t even disguise the envy in his voice. Calum just laughs, throwing Michael a glance, and his eyes are glittering in the sunset, making Michael’s heart hurt a little bit. “You don’t deserve that.” 

“Hey,” Calum says, aiming for affronted, but he’s still grinning. “Don’t antagonise the driver.” 

“I can antagonise you all I want,” Michael says. “You’re not going to kill us on the way to an All Time Low gig.” 

“Might kill us on the way back, though,” Calum points out.

“Yeah, well, I can probably die happy, then,” Michael says, with a shrug. 

“True,” Calum agrees. “Good music, pretty boy in the passenger seat, what more could you want?” 

“Exactly,” Michael says emphatically, and it takes him until Calum’s started talking about the merits of Nothing Personal as compared to Don’t Panic to realise what Calum had just said. 

Michael’s in the passenger seat.

 ------- 

 The show, as expected, is amazing. 

Michael’s seen All Time Low, like, five times now, and they never fail to disappoint. He voices as such to Calum on the way home, running on a high of adrenaline and having seen Calum jumping in the pit, screaming the lyrics to every single song, which had only made Michael’s whole being-in-love-with-the-hot-PE-teacher situation a little more difficult to handle. 

“Right?” Calum enthuses, speeding along the almost-empty highway. “I’ve heard it so many times, but Therapy live just hits different.” 

“God, I know,” Michael groans, tipping his head back and closing his eyes, letting the memory flash in front of his eyes. “I actually heard the full band version live, once.” 

“Yeah?” Calum asks, a tinge of envy in his voice. Michael savours the moment. 

“Yeah,” he says, a touch smugly. “It was fucking sick.” 

“I can imagine,” Calum says. “I told Alex that they should play it like that tonight, but-” 

“Hang on,” Michael says, cutting Calum off, because he cannot be understanding this correctly. “Alex who?” Calum suddenly looks a little guilty. 

“Uh,” he says. 

“Alex who, Calum?” 

“Gaskarth?” Calum offers after a moment, and Michael gapes at him. 

“You know Alex Gaskarth?” 

“Well, y’know, I used to be in a band, and we opened for All Time Low, and-” 

“You opened for All Time Low?” Michael asks. Calum chews on his bottom lip. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m- look, I’m sorry for not telling you, okay? I got the tickets through Alex, but I thought if I told you you might just want to go for them, like, you wouldn’t get it, and-” 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you know All Time Low,” Michael huffs, sinking down in his seat. Calum throws him a worried look, so Michael adds: “I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” which makes Calum smile as he turns into Michael’s road. 

“Fuck you,” he says, but the concern is fading from his face as he parks on the road by Michael’s house this time. They both get out of the car, and then Michael hovers awkwardly by the little path that leads to his house. 

“You’re a traitor,” he says, when Calum rounds the corner of his car and comes to stand opposite Michael. He’s lit up in the orange light of the streetlights, dark brown hair surrounded by a halo of amber, and Michael doesn’t think he’s seen a prettier sight in his life.

“I had to make sure you were coming for me,” Calum protests, a smile playing at his lips. Michael blinks at him. 

“What do you mean?” he says, nonplussed. 

“Well, y’know,” Calum says, shrugging. 

“I don’t know,” Michael says. Calum looks at him oddly. 

“Wait,” he says. “You...you know this was a date, right?” Michael gapes at him. 

“Are you- wait, what?” Calum’s face falls, and he takes a step back, and no, no, no, that’s not what Michael wants. “Wait, no, I-” 

“Fuck,” Calum says, laughing uncomfortably as he cards a hand through his hair. “I probably should have made it clearer, huh? I did say I was bad at asking out cute boys.” 

“Me?” Michael’s voice is a good three octaves higher than usual. “You think I’m cute?” Calum smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Michael, I’ve been flirting with you since, like, the minute I saw you,” he says. 

“You have?” 

“Jesus Christ,” Calum mutters, and then seems to pull himself together. “Look, I’m sorry if I, like, overstepped, made things uncomfortable, whatever. I’m happy to keep it professional, and-” he cuts himself off when Michael laughs. “What?” he says, and it comes out snappy. 

“Are you serious?” Michael says, and he’s grinning now, so much he thinks he probably looks a little creepy. 

“You’re kind of being a dickhead, now, you know that?” Calum says, a little sharply. 

“No, Calum, I- fucking hell,” Michael says, and a bubble of manic laughter escapes from him. “I’ve been kind of in love with you since, like, before we met.” Calum looks at him for a moment, expression unreadable

“Before we met?” Calum asks carefully. 

“Yeah,” Michael says, nodding. “10C pointed you out, in first period, and I kind of stared at you for half the lesson.” Calum says nothing for a moment, just keeps looking at Michael, and it’s starting to get a little unnerving, when-

“Oh,” Calum says, and a small smile is creeping onto his face. “You- wait, so, like, I didn’t misread it? You do like me?” 

“I mean, I did just say I was kind of in love with you, but sure, I like you," Michael says, and Calum grins, lit up by the streetlights and his happiness, and Michael thinks he’s found space in his heart that he didn’t even know he had since meeting Calum. 

“So,” Calum says. “This was a date?”

“This was definitely a date,” Michael agrees, feeling his stomach flip pleasantly at the words. 

“Would it be cliché to kiss you goodnight?” Calum asks, and Michael grins. 

“Definitely,” he says, “but I’ll kill you if you don’t.” Calum grins back, and takes two steps forward to close the space between them, bringing a hand to Michael’s jaw and pressing his lips to Michael’s gently. It’s chaste, sweet, slow, languid, and Calum kisses like Michael’s the only thing that matters in the world. He smells like mint and pine and vanilla, pressed close to Michael’s chest, slipping an arm around Michael’s waist, and Michael groans into the kiss as he thinks about Calum’s long fingers splayed across the small of his back. 

“Too much?” Calum asks, breaking away, and Michael shakes his head, pressing his forehead against Calum’s shoulder. 

“Not enough,” he says, because he doesn’t think he’s ever going to get enough of Calum Hood. Calum pulls him in for a proper hug, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, and Michael’s glad Calum’s got strong arms because he feels like his knees are about to give in. 

“Do you want to come in?” he mumbles against Calum’s shoulder. 

“Is that a proposition?” Calum says, smile evident in his voice. 

“Do you want it to be?”

“Maybe.” Michael swallows. Jesus Christ. 

“Then it is.” Calum pulls back and looks at Michael, suddenly serious. 

“Hey,” he says. “This isn’t- this isn’t just sex for me. I really like you, Michael. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I want something more with you.” Michael grins. 

“Have I got to repeat the whole ‘kind of in love with you’ thing again?” he says, and Calum grins back. 

“Alright,” he says, and Michael hears his car squeaking to indicate it’s locked. “You’re making the excuses when we turn up to school tomorrow, though.” 

 -------

 A few students give them strange looks when they get out of Michael’s car in the morning. 

“Is this seriously the sportiest thing you own?” Calum grumbles for the fiftieth time, picking at the green hoodie and black jogging bottoms that Michael had chucked at him that morning. 

“Quit complaining,” Michael says, locking the car behind them and starting across the car park to the school. “Green’s your colour.” 

“Oh, that’s why you picked it,” Calum says, jogging a little to catch up with Michael. 

“Yeah,” Michael says with a grin, unashamed. Calum shakes his head, but he’s grinning too. 

“I’d kiss you right now if I could,” he says, as they turn into the building. 

“What’s stopping you?” Michael asks, as they make their way up the stairs to the staff room. 

“Uh, code of conduct? The contract I signed when I joined the school?” Michael rolls his eyes as he pushes open the door to the staff room. 

“Morning!” he chirps, heading straight for the desk Luke and Ashton are already sat at, Calum in his wake. 

“Morning!” a few people in the room chorus over the general buzz of post-weekend chatter. 

“Hey,” Luke says loudly, frowning. “Why’s Calum wearing your clothes?” 

The room goes still, and Michael just grins. 

[tenglows]

the art of falling in love in a day

summary: your friend asks you to appear in one of her music videos, where the idea is to show couples. the problem is, you aren’t in a relationship. that doesn’t stop her, though.

category: fluff, stranger!yukhei

note: the description of the music video is inspired by "a kiss" by the driver era, so you can check it here if you want some more visuals in your mind!

edit: you can also find a video edit of this scenario

“but mia, i’m literally not dating anyone!!!!”

you sink into your best friend’s couch, repeating yourself for what it feels to be the hundredth time

“but i need some more couples, and i really want you there. plus you’re pretty. beauty attracts viewers” she pouts

“you know i told you i would gladly star in your music video, but the whole point of it is relationships, what will you do with just me, single, in the shot?”

mia thinks about it for a minute. after all, you’re right. she considers showing you alone, giving another perspective for the same meaning: like finding love within your own self

but she discards the idea right away. it would be interesting for another time, but now what she and her band were aiming for was showing different loves in different couples

suddenly, her brain lights up, and she stands up quickly

“i got it!!”

“you know peigh’s best friend? i believe he’s single, so we didn’t even consider him for the video. but now i can tell peigh to ask him to act as your boyfriend!!!!”

mia believed she had just discovered america with her idea

you, on the other hand, didn’t understand why she was putting so much effort in you featuring the video

but you didn’t protest, since it was probably the fact that this was the first professional video her band will shoot ever since they got signed by this great label, and she wanted the support of her best friend

which you would gladly give her

days passed and it was eventually the day of the shooting

mia was very excited, running from couple to couple to make some small talk and also express how thankful she was

you knew some of the couples, since they were mutual friends or acquaintances

but the majority of them you didn't, and you assumed they had been called by the rest of the band members

one of them being peigh, the bassist and also mia’s girlfriend, who was at the studio's door, waiting for your soon-to-be-fake-boyfriend

you were helping mia with some of the finishing touches, fixing her hair and carefully ironed clothes

when peigh approached you, holding the tall guy by the arm

“y/n, this is yukhei”

“the famous boyfriend” you shook his hand, smiling

the guy was, without a doubt, gorgeous

you were starting to get flustered at the thought of having to pretend you had a relationship with him. realizing now that you hadn’t even asked what exactly you would have to do

“that’s me, nice to meet you” he responded cheeringly

mia was the next to talk, enthusiastically thanking yukhei and explaining what she wants him to do, taking him around the set as she did so

“he’s,,, hot” you breathed out to peigh. she laughed and winked

“make the most out of it”

the shooting started successfully, and you watched how the camera followed the band as they performed the song in front of screens with flashing visuals and neon lights going back and forth

you couldn’t help but get a bit emotional, taking a trip down memory lane to when mia had just started making music with peigh, the rest joining them afterwards. and now they were all here, their dreams just starting to come true

“do you think they’re nervous?” a sudden voice brought you back to reality, and you gazed at yukhei, now beside you with his arms crossed

“probably, but they are doing a great job playing it cool”

he hummed in agreement and you stayed silent, the repeating song in the background

“are you an actor?”

“no” he laughed loudly and honestly “i’m just here to help and provide some good looks, beauty attracts viewers. peigh's words not mine”

“yeah, it’s the same with me. i’ve never had the chance to act anywhere before, so let’s see how this goes”

lunch time came after some more filming of the couples finally coming into play

the band treated everyone at a close restaurant, where you and yukhei continued your never-ending conversation

you were glad it was easy talking to him. you weren’t really keen on meeting new people, finding introductions and the first steps to get to know them a bit awkward and tedious, but you almost forgot it was the first time seeing yukhei when you talked to him

he was funny and good-natured, and you found your senses of humor very similar, so the rest was history

you were both laughing loudly at the table over some funny anecdote, you even increasing your volume when yukhei almost spat out his soda

“so you’re telling me the skirt you’re wearing was basically, kinda, stolen?? by your baby cousin????"

“we only realized when we got back home i swear”

“i’m glad she did though, it looks good on you”

you had been trying to ignore yukhei’s attractiveness all day long, but after that sheepish comment from his part, you were hastily over-aware of his proximity, your bare legs brushing against his

you cursed at your face for reddening and thanked him shyly, his own face a bit flushed too

“how is my favorite duo doing?” mia’s voice was the one to shatter the silent moment, putting her arms around your shoulders

“everything’s fine and delicious, thank you mia” yukhei replied. today, you had also noticed how sweet and kind this boy was

“of course! oh and also, i believe your scene is next when we get back”

“what if the director doesn’t like it? or you can notice we’re not really together?” that question had lingered in your mind, what if you and yukhei didn’t click and couldn’t fool anyone?

“a true actor has to face all sorts of challenges. yours is to fall in love in a day” she joked before going back to her place

“this girl”

when you got back to the set, the abrupt change in the atmosphere almost took you aback. everyone had dropped the jokes and games and were back at a professional and hard-working headspace

you and yukhei were soon leaded in front of the camera, his face and clothes tinged with neon and you assumed you looked the same. you remembered how the production team had also explained they would add some sparks at the time of editing

this video would look amazing

they signaled the start of the camera rolling and you stared at yukhei with panicked eyes while the song started, not really sure what to do

he was quick to grab you by the waist and turned you around so your back faced him

“just dance”

you were kinda rigid and tense at first, insecure over not doing it right

but at some given moment you managed to lose yourself in the song and yukhei’s movements. he didn’t let go of your waist, your hands ruffling his hair or touching his arms that held you

you changed positions so you could look at him, dancing with the biggest smile of enjoyment on your lips

his hands found their way to your moving hips again, and you interlocked yours behind his head at the same time

the lights had dimmed a bit now, and all the dancing and yukhei's grip on your body had your body in a rush. the song that was now stuck in your mind and clothing was provoking you to pull yukhei closer to him and just,, break the distance between the two of you

you knew he was beautiful and perhaps the passion acting you two had to endure had went a bit too much to your head

but he was staring at your mouth too, and you could see the exact second his eyes just went why not?

you two crushed your lips together desperately, as if you had been waiting years to do so

he kissed the same way he danced: knowing how to guide you and take you to all the right places. his tongue was almost as sweet as his voice and he held you steady, making sure you both maintained the rhythm

you almost collapsed when he pulled out, staring at him with doe eyes. a loud "cut!" made you jump, but yukhei's grip didn't leave your waist and he just smiled at you, lips red like a cherry

"wow" mai and peigh clapped when you stepped down the mini stage

"you guys had more chemistry than a great number of this real couples"

"i was joking when i told you to fall in love in a day" you giggled in embarrassment, before hiding your face in yukhei's neck, who placed a kiss on your head.

[doubledeaky]

Art Deco

John Deacon x Female!Reader Smut

A/N: Hi, everyone! First, apologies for the lack of consistent updates for “See What a Fool I’ve Been.” The third part will definitely be out Monday or Tuesday. Until then, here’s some Freaky Deaky to tide you all over. This was inspired by @captain--americanna‘s post of this particular photo of John! Thank you for the inspiration dear! Ok, hope everyone enjoys! As always, feedback is very much appreciated! -m:)

Summary: You’re a fresh face on the Queen crew lineup; your main tasks - get all four of them from one venue to another in an orderly fashion, preferably sober, dressed, and ready to play. As the 1974 tour quickly approaches, you find yourself falling for a particular bassist. During their first show, John bares it all in a beyond extravagant outfit and you can’t control yourself any longer. Much to your surprise, neither can John.

Word Count: 6,176 words (oh my)

Warnings: some cursing and sexual content (18+ only please!) 

You were struggling to keep up with the suited man walking briskly before you, clipboard in hand. Your heeled feet ached under the quick pace, but you forced your legs to carry your weight at a speed that almost matched the man’s. This particular man was the tour manager for a particular rock band, that particular rock band being Queen. Despite the burn of your muscles, excitement reverberated from every corner of your body as the pair of you neared the recording studio that housed said rock band. While you were excited, you were also beyond nervous, terrified even. Being hired as a personal assistant and stylist for an up and coming band was honestly a dream come true but now that your dream had become reality, your stomach flipped violently with anxiety. You were nervous for a number of reasons. First, you were afraid that the band wouldn’t welcome you or that the five of you wouldn’t connect and you’d lose the job you so yearned for. Second, the idea of having to be in the constant company of four guys was daunting; you had no brothers growing up. You hoped you’d figure out how to handle them quickly. Third, you were afraid that you wouldn’t be able to handle the demands of the job and get the boot.

You picked at the black polish covering your nails as the man with the clipboard finally halted his unnaturally quick pace and gestured for you to take a seat. You sat and looked up at him expectantly as he flipped through the large stack of papers and forms on the board. He furrowed his brows and for some ungodly reason, the action had your body tensing. He looked up at you briefly before bringing his wrist up to study his watch. He cleared his throat and folded his arms, clipboard hanging loosely under his suede-clad arm.

“Alright, here’s the deal. Your job is to dress them, get them to gigs at a reasonable hour, and keep them happy. Easy enough, right?” He laughed quietly, looking down again at his clipboard and raising his brows. You nodded, a little unconvinced by his last statement but still remained polite. He looked up at you for a verbal answer and you nervously coughed, nodding again.

“Right.” You said, giving him your most convincing, sugary-sweet smile. He nodded, giving you a tight-lipped grin. The man looked exhausted and you feared the boys in the room across the hall would chew you up and spit you out with no hesitation. In the five minutes the two of you had made brief discussion, you’d managed to chipped off three fingernails worth of polish and you chastised your frazzled nerves. He huffed as he placed the clipboard under his arm again.

“Ok, ready to meet your bosses?” He asked, extending his hand for you to take. You took it graciously, afraid your legs wouldn’t be able to properly hold your frame on their own. He led you to the room with a comforting hand on your back and gave you a genuine, reassuring smile as he reached to turn the knob of the door. Before he completed the action he looked at you and whispered an encouragement, noticing your panicked eyes.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. They’ll adore you.” He said, smiling sweetly. You returned it, his friendly demeanor reminded you of your dad and it was nice knowing he’d be around to bring reason to situations you would surely make unreasonable. He opened the door softly, knocking on it as the two of you entered.

“Boys? Are you all decent?” He asked, letting go of the door knob and standing straight with his hands folded in front of him. He gestured for you to come out from behind his tall stature and you did, cautiously. He laughed softly and patted your upper back in an attempt to shake the nerves from your form. A loud crash suddenly boomed from the far left side of the room, behind the sound-proof door funnily enough. The man beside you groaned and rubbed the bridge of his noise with his thumb and pointer finger. You tried to stifle your giggle with a hand over your smiling mouth. Then, as if they were all pressed against the door, four eccentrically-dressed men fell out into the control room. You widened your eyes and stepped back slightly, they were certainly different. They all groaned and giggled, squirming around on the floor like puppies. The man beside you cleared his throat loudly; which did little to capture their attention as they all continued to laugh, holding their stomachs and wiping tears. The man huffed.

“Boys, please. We have a guest. Can the four of you keep it together for more than five minutes?” He said, gesturing for them to get up from the floor and greet you properly.

“Terribly sorry, Gerry. It’s all in good fun.” The man with straight, jet black hair and lined eyes said as he got up and dusted off his white pants. The man beside you- Gerry, you noted- rolled his eyes and hummed disapprovingly. The black-haired man smirked, mischievous and childlike. You felt anxious again, you were certainly in for a wild ride with these characters.

“All right, all right. Enough pissing around. Boys, this is Y/N. You’re new stylist and personal assistant.” Gerry said, turning to give you a reassuring grin and gesturing for you to introduce yourself personally to the four of them. The black-haired man was quick to pull you into a tight hug. You returned it, a bit hesitant at first but his cheery energy somehow calmed your uneasy one. He pulled away and smiled, looking at you with an almost earnest admiration.

“Freddie Mercury.” He said, affirmatively, giving you a wide smile. You returned it, already looking forward to getting to know this enigma of a man. He held both of your hands and lifted your arms, holding you out before him at arms length and giving you a once-over.

“My, my. You are certainly qualified for the position of a stylist. Very chic, I love it.” He quipped, and you blushed under his gaze. He gingerly placed your arms back to your sides, stepping aside and turning to fiddle with the soundboards, allowing you to continue with the introductions.

The next man, tall and curly-haired, extended a hand out to you with a kind smile. You took it, returning the gesture and nodding your head politely.

“Brian May, wonderful to meet you.” He said, his voice smooth and soft, comforting. You smiled sweetly, and released his hand.

“Ditto.” You replied, giggling, and he followed, your laugh strangely infectious. He nodded and followed Freddie to fiddle with the soundboards, a bit more expertise behind the movements of his fingers. The next man was a bit shorter, blonde, blue-eyed, beautiful, and nearly shirtless. You couldn’t prevent the pink blush that dusted your cheeks as he placed a gentle kiss to your cheek, shaking your outstretched hand as he pulled away.

“Roger Taylor. Looking forward to having you around.” He flirted, sending you a quick wink and walking away to plop down on the couch, lighting a cigarette almost immediately. You nodded politely in his direction and you could tell he was pleased with your flustered state. You wrung your hands and turned to the fourth and final man. He gave you a kind smile and offered you his ringed-hand to shake. You took it graciously and admired his enchanting but classic appearance. You could infer that he was the black sheep among his band mates. Dressed only in a red flannel shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers. The only thing connecting him to the rock star look was his long, wavy brown hair.

“John Deacon, bassist. Terribly sorry you’ll be babysitting us for the next nine months.” He joked, letting his hand fall to his side after your friendly handshake. You giggled and he seemed pleased he’d gotten a laugh out of you, beaming with pride.

“I wouldn’t have taken the job if I couldn’t handle the likes of you.” You quipped, turning to point a painted finger in the direction of the other three, who all joined in on the easy laughter. You suddenly felt comfortable among these rockstars, something you thought would come with time and not on the very first day. You felt that welcome sense of giddiness fill your chest and for the first time since you’d been awarded the job, you looked forward to the upcoming months of touring Queen was scheduled to fulfill. You turned back to John and gave him a goofy smile.

“Thank you for your apology in advance. Now I know who I’m certainly going to like the most.” You said, mostly to him, but the rest of the room certainly heard and all adopted sly smirks. John looked down at the linoleum floor, flustered at your comment. He was also pretty sure who he was going to like the most over the next nine months.

***

The first date of Queen’s debut tour was quickly approaching and you were swamped in assignments gifted to you by the band, you were loving it. Creating and assembling extravagant stage costumes was awarding you with a passion you’d never experienced. You pumped out costume after costume in such an efficient manner and the band was blown away, especially Freddie. He often spent hours on end over your shoulder, watching you work in pure awe. Today was no different, Freddie was nearly perched atop your shoulder with his jaw touching the floor.

“My God, I have truly been blessed. Never have I seen a fellow designer have a vision so similar to mine. Not only that, you go beyond my expectations. You’re truly a blessing, Y/N” He complimented you endlessly and you couldn’t help but grow flustered, a wide grin stretched across your face. Freddie was now marveling at finished pieces hung on the rack across the room, begging to be worn and showed off.

“Thank you, Freddie. Don’t let me get a big head, my dear. These are your designs, I just so happen to bring them to life.” You said, trying to give him a subtle compliment and downplay the praise he’d just awarded you.

“Don’t be silly, darling. I could give you a simple noun on Monday and you’d have something incredible ready by Thursday. You’re truly a talent.” He said, refusing to allow you to deny the obvious talent in your possession.

“You spoil me, Mercury.” You quipped, focusing on the fabric being fed through the needle of your sewing machine.

“I don’t mind.” He responds slyly, grabbing a few pieces from the rack labeled “Freddie” and placing them over his bent arm.

“If you need me, I’ll be trying these lovely ladies on in the next room. Thank you again, dear.” Freddie called as he exited the room with a practiced grace. You smiled and shook your head. Freddie surely was an enigma.

Moments later, the door to the room opened softly but you didn’t notice, the whirring of your machine blocking almost all surrounding noise. John closed the door behind him and leant against it, admiring you in your element. Though he had trouble admitting it, over the last few weeks of tour preparation, he’d developed a small crush on the band’s on-call therapist and devoted seamstress. Like Freddie was to you, you were to John-an enigma. He admired your passion for your work. When he would run his hands over the careful beading of Freddie’s garments and notice the precise hand-stitching of the many jackets and vests Roger demanded of you, he knew you were meant to do this and you poured your heart and soul into every piece of fabric. He admired your patience and rock-solid tolerance of the band’s constant demands and immature antics. You never complained and did everything with a saccharine sweet smile, never failing to melt John’s heart. You were exactly what the band needed, a dedicated individual who could really take a beating but above all, a friend. You had really become a part of the group and your support of their endeavors and artistic visions was exactly what a young band like Queen needed. However, the thing about you that had John shifting in his seat from time to time was how drop-dead gorgeous you were. Despite humble beginnings, you had an effortless confidence about you and you weren’t afraid to let everyone know. John loved everything about you and the ache in his lower stomach was a constant reminder of his infatuation with you. John continued to watch you work until he shifted his weight and knocked over a heavy rack of clothes, sending it crashing loudly to the floor. He cringed as it landed, and you jumped in your cushiony work chair.

“Shit!” You yelped, turning back to identify the culprit. Your annoyed facade softened when you noticed it was John Deacon, infamous klutz. You rolled your eyes playfully as he stumbled to return the rack to its position, piling clothes in his arms to hang back up.

“Need some help there, my dear.” You joked, leaning your cheek against your hand. He looked up, obviously flustered and stuttered out an apology.

“Sorry, Y/N. Never been very good with not making a mess.” He laughed, still a bit embarrassed as he struggled to place the garments back on cushioned and velvety hangers. You laughed fondly and stood from your seat to help him. He watched you with concentration, noting which pieces belonged on which hanger. As you both worked to restore the rack of its clothes, John’s right hand brushed against your left as you both hung up a costume simultaneously. The shocks running up and down your nerves was enough to have you hastily pulling your hand away, slightly startled. John seemed just a surprised and he massaged his palm with his other hand after he let it fall from its position on the rack. You both remained quiet for a moment, your rapid breaths the only sound bouncing off of the peeling green walls. You cleared your throat suddenly, grabbing John’s attention immediately. You looked up at him and swallowed, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his red hot gaze.

“Did you need anything, John?” You whispered and John coughed, feeling a bit flustered and silly now.

“Um, no, no. The boys wanted me to ask if you’d like to get dinner. Our treat.” He said, nervously shifting from one foot to the other and biting his thumb nail with a nervous enthusiasm. You pulled his thumb from between his teeth and gave him a pointed look, quickly calming him with a smile. You nodded and laced your arm in his, grabbing your purse and locking your eyes with his surprised grey ones.

“I’d love to.” You said simply, guiding him out of the door and down the hall. He prayed you couldn’t feel his pace quicken as you laced your delicate fingers with his ringed ones. As you walked through the mind-bending corridors of the studio, you noticed none of the others boys seemed to be present. John noted your confusion and was quick to explain.

“They got a head start.” He said, gesturing to the empty parking spot that usually housed the band’s beloved van as the two of you exited the studio. You giggled sweetly and John’s heart fluttered.

“Well in that case, let me be the chauffeur. Least I could do for a free dinner.” You said, throwing a smirk his way. He nodded a bit too enthusiastically, like a child answering to the question of “More ice cream?” John laughed at his own nervousness and hopped into your car, the backseat filled with at least seven separate types of fabric, all in an array of different colors. You noticed his eyes scanning the backseat and laughed as you turned the key in the ignition, the car spitting then revving to life smoothly.

“Certainly don’t leave anything to the imagination, huh? I want everyone to know I make clothes for her majesty.” You joked, quickly peeling out into the busy city street. John laughed, his eyes bunching up and the gap of his teeth on full display for to admire. The two of you joked and gave each other the run-around the entire fifteen minute drive, laughing fondly and fiercely like old friends reconnecting. This difference was the prolonged gazes, lip bites, and adoring glances the two of you shared. John sat back against the window as a comfortable silence settled in the vehicle. His eyes scanned your regal profile, tracing the curves and slopes with the darting movements of his irises. You were truly a beauty; classic and modern with a killer personality to boot. John leant his head back on the head rest of his seat and bit at the inside of his lips, the next nine months were certainly going to be interesting.

***

The first date of Queen’s debut US tour was quickly approaching, just days away in fact and you could tell the four musicians were getting antsy. The flight to their first destination was today and you were more than excited to finally be in attendance of the breakout band, in America no less. Their first stop was a state you couldn’t quite recall the name of but you were excited, nevertheless, as you pulled into the parking lot of the studio to meet the band and attending crew. You first noticed John leaning gingerly on the west side of the band’s large tour bus smoking a cigarette, his suitcases resting idly at his feet. You smiled and yanked your key from the ignition, hopping out of your car with a childlike enthusiasm. John noticed this and smiled, walking over to help you with your luggage-ever the gentleman. You joined him at the trunk and gave him an apologetic smile as his eyes widened at the six suitcases stuffed in the small space, not including your carry-on.

“Got to look my best.” You giggled, hauling two suitcases out of the trunk, John copying your actions. He laughed and nodded, gesturing to the many trunks and racks of handmade costumes being loaded into a separate van.

“Understandable, considering you’ve intended to have us dressed to the nines for every show.” He joked and you nodded, a bit embarrassed. You had made an abundance of costumes-maybe enough for two tours, but Freddie insisted.

“So, you excited?” You asked, as the both of you pushed your four largest suitcases into the back of the cargo bus.

“Yeah, a bit nervous but I’ll be alright.” He said, giving you a sweet grin and following you back to your car for the remainder of your bags. You giggled, waving his words off dismissively.

“Nothing to be nervous about, love. You’ll all do fantastic.” You assured him with one of your famous, honeyed smiles and who was John to go against your better judgment. He nodded, grabbing the remainder of your luggage while you closed the trunk and locked your car; looking forward to the next nine months.

***

You were running about the backstage area frantically, preparing for Queen’s first performance in less than two hours. Three of the four of them were dressed, the outfits possessing a similar theme that created a unity among them-they looked like a band. You were doing last minute adjustments, making sure every detail was perfect and ready to be appreciated by the excited eyes of the crowd. After you gave the three of them the okay to relax and shake any pre-show nerves from their system, you looked around in confusion at the area surrounding you. Where was John?

You walked around, feeling dread settle in your stomach as each location you checked proved fruitless. You finally found him, asleep on the couch of the dressing room. You couldn’t stifle your giggle, shaking your head in disbelief.

“John!” You shouted, swatting his leg which hung off of the edge of the worn, leather couch. He stirred slightly but immediately fell back asleep. You huffed, a bit frustrated and antsy now, and shook his shoulders with enough force to wake him. He looked confused for a moment but when his eyes focused on your features, he smiled and yawned.

“God, John, I have no time for your sleepy ass.” You joked as you grabbed his designated costume from his personal rack. He laughed and sat up, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rode up, revealing his abdomen and the muscles of his arms tensed, then relaxed as they fell into his lap. You felt yourself blush but quickly shoved his outfit, still on the hanger, into his hands.

“Get dressed, goofy. Show time’s in thirty.” You said, moving to grab the makeup, which the entire band was sporting, from the vanity. John noticed this and furrowed his brows.

“Makeup?” He asked, cringing slightly.

“Makeup.” You confirmed, sending him a mischievous smirk. He groaned but continued to change, taking off his t-shirt and pulling the skin-tight vest over his torso. Your breath hitched slightly in your throat, was he really going to change in front of you? You busied yourself, fiddling with random garments and tubes of eyeliner. John proceeded to pull on the tight, jet black trousers and threw the silk kimono over his frame, shifting to study his figure in the mirror. He looked pleased with his appearance.

“Nice job, Y/L/N.” He commented, sitting back down to pull on his tall platform boots. You smiled, and turned to toss a bowtie in his direction. He looked a little confused as his long fingers fiddled with it.

“Put that on and then get over here so I can do your makeup.” You said in your best authoritative voice and John whined from behind you.

Do I have to?” He asked, lacing the bowtie around his throat. You turned and felt your body heat up exponentially as you took in his appearance. Nice job indeed, Y/L/N. You cleared your throat and held a chubby stick of eyeliner up to his face.

“Yes, sir.” You said, grabbing his shoulders and sitting him down in front of the bright lights of the vanity. He huffed and crossed his arms, clearly unhappy with the idea of having what looked like charcoal smeared near his eyes.

“Oh, stop, you big baby. It won’t kill you.” You joked, as you proceeded to line his eyes to the best of your ability, his twitching and constant blinking making it hard. As you applied an ash-grey shadow to his lid, the situation felt weirdly intimate. You could feel his breath fan over your chest and neck and he could feel yours wash over his face. You smelt like roses and tailor’s chalk and he smelt like coffee and adrenaline. It was intoxicating and it took all of your strength to push down the urge to kiss his pouted lips as you completed the envisioned look.

“All done.” You coughed nervously, bringing John out of his trance. He peered at himself in the mirror and laughed.

“I look like a proper dick.” He laughed, scooting closer to the mirror to further examine your work. You giggled and playfully swatted his arms.

“You look like a proper rockstar, Deacon. Now get outta here! You’ve got a show in ten.” You said, eyes widening as you glanced at your wristwatch. You ushered him out of the room, a roadie handing him his bass as you both neared the main stage. You quickly joined the four of them to snap a photo, the flash of the camera blinding them momentarily. You gestured for them to stay put and took a step back to look at your work, perfect. They looked absolutely incredible and you felt pride bubble in your chest, finally seeing your hardwork pay off. You waved them towards the stage with a wide smile.

“Break a leg, boys. I’ll be in the crowd, front and center.” They all nodded, waving and smiling your way as they took the stage; the crowd cheering widely. You walked into the crowd from the wings and politely elbowed your way to the section of people consisting of Queen’s staff, right at the front and to the far left. You took your place next to three friendly roadies and cheered along with the crowd. You sent John a smile, which he returned. The heavy rhythm of John’s bass joined the crowd’s attention and you witnessed pure magic for forty-five minutes. This was the first time you’d seen them perform properly and all of your suspicions were confirmed, they were beyond good.

You understood now the awe they held for you when you created costumes, this was their thing, the thing they were meant to do. You noticed your eyes focus on John much longer than anyone else and it had your entire body humming, unbelievably hot. This didn’t go unnoticed by John, who was trying desperately to shift his weight and cover his arousal with the body of his bass. You looked breathtaking under the purple light illuminating the room and John felt a hunger grow in his lower abdomen. He needed you and no amount of prior hesitation or doubts would stop him once his roadie took his bass from him. The shift in John’s demeanor wasn’t unnoticed by you, his eyes looked desperate and his lips were blood red from constant biting and picking. The show ended, the wails of the adoring crowd pulling you from your daze. You watched the four of them thank the crowd and disappear behind the heavy black curtain separating the people from the band. You were quick to follow them into the wings and then the dressing room, intending to congratulate the four. You knocked quickly and swung the door open with a big smile but only John was there, sat patiently on the same worn couch he’d been napping on a few hours before. You furrowed your brows and walked over to him.

“Where are the others?” You asked, tilting your head at him softly. He smiled, wiping the sweat from his brow with a rag. His eye makeup was smudged and his hair was mussed, he looked like a dream.

“They went for drinks. I wasn’t really feeling it, just wanted to chill.” He said simply, patting the spot next to him, beckoning you to sit down. You did and turned to him with a toothy smile, leaning your head against your hand.

“Enjoy the show?” He asked, taking a sip of water. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and the heat in your belly intensified. You nodded in response, trying to distract yourself from the arousal growing within you.

“I could tell.” He whispered, confidently bringing a hand to your thigh, squeezing gently. Your eyes widened slightly, but you didn’t stop him. He brought his face closer to yours.

“I saw the way you were looking at me. A deer in headlights, really.” He laughs, his warm breath fanning over your neck. You felt a whimper build in your throat as his hand continued to inch up your thigh, squeezing with increasing intensity.

“John..” You trailed off, gasping as his lips brushed across the swell of your collarbone.

“Do you want me?” He says into your neck, soft lips sending shivers throughout your entire body. You couldn’t stop the quiet moan that slipped past your lips and John grinned as his fingers gripped your hips.

“Yes.” You breathed, lacing your fingers in his hair, still slightly damp from sweat. John seemed pleased with your answer, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking softly, determined to work hickies into your delicate skin. You exhaled sharply, your body arching into his, breasts pressed flush against his chest. He continued to mouth at your neck and chest, fingers pushing past the material of your blouse. He removed his lips from your neck and looked into your hooded eyes, pupils dilated in lust.

“May I?” He whispers, eager to remove your top. You nod frantically, feeling suffocated by the fabric. John quickly peels it off of your torso, groaning at the sight hidden underneath.

“My God, Y/N.” He breaths, eyes wide and mouth watering. With a sudden burst of confidence, you hold his gaze and reach behind you to remove your bra and John’s hands tighten their grip on your hips, anticipating every movement. You unclasp and throw your bra to the side, brushing your hair behind you so John can have a complete view of your chest. He moans at the sight of your naked chest, hands coming up from your hips and over your ribs to cup them softly in his hands. His eyes flit up to meet yours in silent permission and you grant it with a delicate moan. He circles his lips around your left nipples, his hand kneading the other. The heat in your abdomen is nearly unbearable as he continues his ministrations. You moaning consistently now, breathy and full of want. John can feel the fabric of his pants grow uncomfortably tight and his legs are shifting in an attempt to relieve some pressure.

“John, please.” You breath out, your arm thrown over your eyes, hips bucking involuntarily. John removes his mouth from your breast, climbing up the length of your body to place a searing kiss to your lips. It steals the air from your lungs and your gasping when he pulls away to speak.

“Yes, dove? What do you need?” He asks, moving to undo your jeans. You moan out, the pressure of his hand on your lower tummy enough to send a shockwave of pleasure through you.

“I want you. All of you.” You say, mind clear enough to sit up and climb upon his lap. John is surprised by your sudden action but doesn’t complain, his hand making themselves comfortable on your hips and effectively grinding you against his hardening length. The friction has your mind spinning and a broken moan escapes the both of you.

“You have me.” He whispers, grabbing your face to pull you into a kiss, sloppy and full of want. You grasp at the material of his kimono, desperate to see him shirtless.

“Off.” You command softly and he complies, taking off his kimono and vest in one motion. Your lips immediately press against the hollow space above his clavicle, moving slowly up the column of his throat. He groans, the feeling of your lips and clothed core against his lap overwhelming his senses. You lower your mouth, kissing your way down his torso until youre above the hem of his trousers. His jaw is clenched tightly now, hands brushing hair from your face as you undo and take off his trousers, leaving him in boxers and smudged makeup only. You stand up with the intention to remove your own pants but you take a moment to admire him. Your eyes doing a slow once over along the entire length of his body. He’s reminiscent of a painting hung on the grand wall of a house with gilded pillars and crystal chandeliers, a stunning sight and it’s all yours. He seems embarrassed under your gaze and you smile dreamily at him, removing your jeans and returning to your position atop his lap. He groans, the idea of only two layers separating you beyond arousing. His fingers are dancing softly along the length of your arms and it only adds to the sensations your experiencing at the moment. You run your hands through his now dry hair, your nails grazing his scalp and his eyes flutter shut.

“You are so beautiful, John.” You whisper into his ear, your fingers brushing back his hair so he doesnt miss a word. He looks at you as you pull away, eyes heavy lidded and smile lazy.

“You’ll be the death of me, dove.” He says quietly, pulling you in for a chaste kiss while his fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear. You know what he’s asking and you nod as his lips press against the base of your throat. He removes them and stuffs them into the pocket of his trousers, which are tossed over the arm of the couch and he looks back at you with a smirk. You giggle and smack his shoulder playfully, the gesture reminding you of classic high school romance. You lean down, your lips mere centimeters from his.

“You don’t need to take them, love. You’ll be seeing a lot more of them after this.” You whisper, silky and beyond seductive and it has John whimpering softly.

“But if you’re going to take them, I’ll need something in return.” You quip, your hands raking down his chest to remove his boxers, his cock promptly slapping against his lower stomach. He groans as a slight amount of pressure is expelled from his body. Your hand delicately grasps his cock, pumping it slowly and your eyes study the micro movements of his face as you do. His eyes are squeezed shut, lip caught between his teeth, and brow brimmed with sweat. You kiss the space behind his ear, your hot breaths bringing him close to release at an alarming pace. He stops your movements and you sit back, confused. His hand grip your hips tightly, rubbing your wet folds against his length slowly, deliberately. You whimper, you nails pressing red, crescent moon shapes into the skin of his shoulders. He groans, his falling back against the couch. His eyes meet yours, his pupils taking up a majority of his grey iris.

“I need to feel you.” He growls, pulling your torso flush against him, your breast pressing against his upper chest.

“I’m waiting for you.” You say smugly, your cockiness melting as he slips into you, the stretch absolutely delicious. You both moan out, your head falling into the crook of his shoulders. After a beat, John experimentally snaps his hips up into yours and the high-pitched moan that escapes you encourages him, setting an intense pace.

“Look at me.” He growls, wanting nothing else but to see you fall apart over him. You meet his eyes, your hips instinctively meeting his in an age-old rhythm.

“John, I-I’m close.” You moan out, hands splayed across his chest. The sensation of him inside you, stretching you, brushing against all four walls is so intense it has you seeing stars.

“Let go, love. I’ve got you.” He whispers, leaning back to watch your features contort in pleasure, still maintaining a brutal pace and intensity. You cum, your walls fluttering against his cock and he’s absolutely in awe at the sight of you. Mouth agape, hair draped around your features, eyes shut in pleasure. John knows he’s close and you can feel it as you ride out your orgasm. You clench around him, hips still bouncing atop him. He groans, biting his lip with enough force to draw blood.

“C’mon, John. Cum for me. Let me feel you.” You whisper into his ear, feeling beyond sensitive as he continues to thrust up into. He cums with a long, strangled moan; his hands gripping your hips with a bruising strength. You both still for a moment, panting heavily, his cock still sheathed inside of you. He gently lifts you up and pulls out, you whimper at the empty feeling. His cum is pooling onto the couch and John curses, grabbing his t-shirt from the floor to catch it. You wince and giggle, leaning down to lay flush against him, your arms wrapping around his neck. His own arms rest atop the length of your lower back, fingers dancing along the soft skin. John is pressing soft kisses into your hair, the both of you waiting for your breathing to even out. After a few moments of stillness, John lifts his head to speak.

“We should probably get dressed. The boys are no doubt on their way back.” He laughs, pulling up his boxers as you move from his lap to stand up. You start to dress and you hear John groan from behind. You turn around to see him in his blue jeans only, holding his soiled t-shirt.

“Don’t worry, love. I have something for you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his middle as you take the shirt from him and toss it into the band’s dirty laundry bag.

“My God, you’re an angel.” He says, gratefully, pulling you into a sweet kiss. You giggle and pull away giving him a clean shirt from the rack across the room.

“I try.” You say smugly, beckoning him with your pointer finger to follow you out of the door. He smiles, not hesitating to fall in line behind you as he pulls the clean shirt over his head. He’s laughing like a child, giddy and without restraint as he wonders what you have in store. Now more than ever, he’s so looking forward to the next nine months.

-Thank you reading! Feedback is very much appreciated! -m:)

[black-arcana]

Ex-DELAIN Singer CHARLOTTE WESSELS Explores 'Heavier Sound' On Upcoming Solo Album

Charismatic Dutch singer/songwriter Charlotte Wessels is set to release her new studio album on September 20, 2024 via Napalm Records. The LP's first single, "The Exorcism", will arrive on May 16, 2024.

Wessels's album promises a cohesive exploration of fear and liberation, as well as spellbinding melancholia and dark, catchy elements meeting progressive and heavier soundscapes. Charlotte and her band will bring this story to the stage on October 4, 2024 at Utrecht's TivoliVredenburg.

The former DELAIN vocalist's earlier solo endeavors, "Tales From Six Feet Under" (2021) and "Tales From Six Feet Under Vol II" (2022) already gained Wessels a remarkable number of devotees, but for the upcoming release, Wessels is raising the bar significantly. While still writing and producing the songs in her Six Feet Under basement home studio and sharing their first incarnations with her patrons, now she's taking the songs to the next level with a band of her fellow ex-DELAIN cohorts Timo Somers (guitars, additional arrangements),Otto Schimmelpenninck Van Der Oije (bass) and Joey Marin De Boer (drums) as well as Sophia Vernikov (piano/hammond),contributing to the new, heavier sound. The album also features arrangements by Vikram Shankar (SILENT SKIES, PAIN OF SALVATION),cello by Elianne Anemaat, mixing by Guido Aalbers (MUSE, COLDPLAY, THE GATHERING) and mastering by Andy VanDette (PORCUPINE TREE, VOLA, DREAM THEATER).

Wessels states: "This album is significant, for on the one hand, telling such a deeply personal journey — through its unintended theme of fear and obsessive thoughts — and at the same time, representing the joy of finding the song's true forms with everyone involved in the making of this record. There were moments in the studio with the band that truly reminded me of why I love making music in the first place, and I don't think I've ever been as excited about music going out into the world. This is the album I want to re-introduce myself with, and I'm so glad to do it with this amazing team."

In a 2022 interview with Spain's The Metal Circus TV, Wessels was asked how she feels about the fact that DELAIN made a comeback with a new lineup. A short time earlier, DELAIN released a single, "The Quest And The Curse", featuring keyboardist, founder and main songwriter Martijn Westerholt alongside new singer Diana Leah, original guitarist Ronald Landa and original drummer Sander Zoer, plus bassist Ludovico Cioffi. Charlotte said: "I'm trying not to engage with it too much, honestly. I've seen positive responses about it, which I think is good. But I do try to keep some distance and just focus on what I'm doing rather than checking that out, because I still don't feel like that will make me happier per se."

In February 2021, Westerholt announced the dissolution of DELAIN's previous lineup. At the time, he explained: "For the last year or so, the collaboration within the band ceased to work as well as it once had. Some of us were no longer happy with the current roles in the band. We all tried very hard to find a solution for over a year, but sadly we were unable to find one. As a result, we will all be going our own ways and pursuing our own endeavors.

"I am very sad our cooperation has come to end, but at the same time I am very grateful for all the years we were able to work together. Together we toured the world, shared highs and lows, and met with many successes as well as times that pushed us to learn and grow. We all enjoyed meeting our fans and making new friends all over the globe."

At the time, Wessels said about her departure: "I know that you might have questions about the 'why' in all of this. I fully understand and respect that. Simply put, it is the sad conclusion of more than a year of trying to find solutions to built-up grievances. Part of me feels like I'm letting all of you down, I'd like you to know that this decision was not taken lightly and I apologize to those of you who had high hopes of seeing all of us together live on stage again after lockdown. Until recently, I thought this might still be in the cards for us as well."

The new DELAIN lineup made its official live debut in August 2022 at the Riverside festival in Aarburg, Switzerland.

Photo credit: Tim Tronckoe

[thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness]

Toshiya BURRN! Interview 1/2-3?

“It’s like a mirage, when I get close to it  the person I want to be gets away”

In the past 20 years, while pursuing music as a goal persistently, there were also adverse effects from the down tuning to get sound pressure and heaviness. He also has dealt with the difficulties of his position as bassist with an innovative playing method. However, we talk about  even now he is like “I’m not doing 100% things that I want to do” or “Maybe I should have done more things because there are many”. Text: You Masuda

Notes: This translation was honestly hard to do, not only for the technical stuff talk but also cause it was hard to translate all the feelings in Toshiya’s words as he seems to be doing an honest look to the past. Embrace yourself. Being in touch with them since then, I started collecting data of DIR EN GREY for in an interview just before their major debut, around the end of 1998. Thereafter, interviews were made in various phases of them and I attended lots of concerts inside and outside the country. Through these times, I have the impression  Toshiya has continued polishing his personality as a stoic person. It’s not only that he is constantly pursuing high ideals all the times but also, he was aware of the things he lacked at certain points in time. There is no doubt of that. In fact, once I could heard from his own mouth the words “I want to be..” To do so, maybe he has first to fill what he is missing. As a result of this, how is the relation between the ideal him he is imagining now with his position? What about the band itself? One day in late july, we had this talk while I was accompanying them in the domestic tour “MACABRE” -The tours that you have been doing with each album as a theme since last year is finally coming to an end.  How do you feel about facing Macabre again day after day? Toshiya (from now T): It’s not really a stressful tour. This way of saying it invites misunderstanding (laughs) I feel it’s simple for the bass part. After all, it feels good to have regular tuning. -The feeling is good. They are such some honest words. T: But they are the first words that come from my mind. At the same time, when it comes to the band’s sound, it creates a comfortable feeling. Of course, low tuning is also ok.  Honestly, there are some parts that my ears can’t catch up with it. My own ears. I don’t understand the high pitch feeling very well too. Especially when at the same concert, the MACABRE songs with regular tuning mix with the low tuning songs of Dir en grey from the recent years, the situation  gets really chaotic inside my ears. -So the subject now should be low tuning, does it make you feel uncomfortable? T: Even if the performance feels good when it comes to my hearing part, it’s not always pleasant.  Speaking of unnatural, it gives me the impression of being artificial. When a concert is over, I always get the line recording of that day. I listen to it for reflection but even with that sound recording, you can clearly feel the difference, it’s awful.  -Do you mean that that feeling you are saying is not only limited to the bass part but also to the whole sound? T: That’s right. No matter what, the whole thing doesn’t come out clearly. On the other hand, the sound pressure is amazing. However, when I listen to the line recording I don’t know who is playing each part. -How ironic is, isn’t it? If you want sound pressure, the other is sacrificed. If you want the missing clearness a priority, the sound pressure won’t be enough. T: That’s it (laughs) Dir en grey has requested to increase the sound pressure. As for the band sound as a whole  the feeling as well as the power and dynamics are really good now. I think that each of us would say “if I do things this way, the band sound will get better” but because of our sound becoming a whole one, some parts that can be heard are disappointing.  After all, it’s in our ears when we are playing a live. - It wouldn’t be possible to make all the songs with a regular tuning, though. T: Yes. There would be some songs that could be applicable but if you do that, the atmosphere of them will change again. -However, once the songs were played with regular tuning at a performance. The structure of your sound seemed to be clear again. T: It really felt three-dimensional. I’m not saying that one is better than the other though. - I also felt that specific difference that you mentioned.  This is my personal interpretation but, I think at the time you were making “MACABRE” you all were trying to push your own limits. T: That’s it. Most definitely. -I think you can feel the difference in those songs from that time, when you work with them now with your current experience. There are many parts where you can feel you all have growth. T: That’s true. Back then, at the time we were making MACABRE…… first GAUZE was released, related to the next thing we would release, we were looking for some kind of break through for us. It’s still like that everyday though. So at that time, they weren’t many bands around approaching in that way, especially in the major field. That idea became the essential point of the album. -So instead on continue GAUZE straight, again you should go further in your direction isn’t it? As a result of that, you put all in it...all the things and the circumstances of the band? T: For me, MACABRE is an album that has a great connection to the present isn’t it? DIR EN GREY pop elements, the violent parts… even more the changes of rhythms. These elements are really present in the album. So due to the release of MACABRE, I remember that everybody was really worry about what to do with the next album. -Because you made that album. T: Yes. It is said that there is a curse on the third albums* so we were exactly there. I remember we were under a tremendous pressure doing KISOU. *I didn’t know what he was talking about but I did some research and found this article  -When MACABRE was released I think that there was a vague feeling among fans that DIR EN GREY had made something amazing. However, in terms of general sales, truth is it didn’t reach GAUZE sales level. T: Yes, they dropped. - Then, was there a feeling of pressure for that? T: Not really. Saying that the sales part wasn’t a part of the pressure would be a lie but I didn’t feel it very much at a personal level.  At that time, it was an honest idea (to make that kind of album).  Also, there wasn’t a basis yet, so we feel like we could do more things for the 3rd album. - If you could break the curse of the third album, from that point it’s like you would get wider possibilities? T: Yes, yes. To get to the third album, even if the sales dropped, the work we did in the second, MACABRE, was necessary to spread ourselves like a wrapping cloth. It was like we went further we went before and the things we could do increased. Indeed, at that time there was a part where some things could be done but didn’t spread like a wrapping cloth. Doing that, we wanted to make the possibility of going even further and not only where we were at that point. If I think about that now, I feel it that way. After all, at the time we debuted the visual kei boom was totally unexpected. - Seems like the last stand. T:  Yes. It was that flow. But after all, that boom came to an end. Maybe no one wanted to say it, but that’s what I thought. I guess it was supposed to be like that, it was somehow obvious so we had to develop ourselves even more. Of course, we were not aware of that while we were doing it. -It feels like you were preparing several extended terminals for later…. T: That’s it. It was like a sprout growing out. Even if you don’t know what kind of sprout is growing, at that time we only have those sprouts. It was like we must nourish and nurture them. -Moreover, if you have several sprouts, you will be able to choose among them. T: Yes, yes, yes. MACABRE was that kind of album - So it was like GAUZE wasn’t all you had to offer but in fact there was also some sense of pride in it (in MACABRE). At the same time, you had to develop a sense of identity if you wanted to survive as band isn’t it? T: I think it would have been useless otherwise. In MACABRE we managed to develop it somehow so right after its release,  we had to worry about what we were going to do after it, that was KISOU. -These words might not sound good but I think that KISOU was a work that made me feel like it was a time of excessiveness. T: That’s it. In MACABRE we mixed several elements as we pointed out before, we could go beyond our limits. Although we were able to do it, there were some things that we weren’t able to try to do so there was some self-awareness of that in ourselves. Then, when the time of “what we are going to do next” came regarding KISOU, there was discussion about trying to push the band limits a bit more. -Do you mean to make it closer to the image you had as a live band? T: That’ is. If you keep track on DIR EN GREY albums,   it’s very easy to understand. We repeat the flow of doing something that breaks with what we have done previously. At that time, we were following that pattern too, not going forward straight. With creating new things, we were trying to be faithful to the part that was us as a band at the same time we were doing more progressive things. -So you were seeking to build a sense of totality in your work. And then repeat the pattern over again. T: There were lots of times like that. -After doing KISOU, several tours came and the answer I got from them was shaped into SIX UGLY.  Did you release it with the intention of soften the impact that would cause VULGAR? T: That’s it.  At the time of SIX UGLY, we had the feeling of putting in it just songs that could work in a live. Songs that have a direct connection and we wanted to play it live. It felt like while we were creating a sense of unity with the audience, we were creating things that make us feel good. However, it wasn’t enough to make an album so we thought it would be a mini album instead. -That concept was established and  it’s something that has increased in the recent years around the world, creating works in EP (Extended play). So you could say that that first EP of yours was like the start of this trend. T: Yes, maybe. -In the case of  VULGAR, did you have any clear image of what  you wanted to create before hand? T: At the time of VULGAR, “heavy” was set as the main theme of it. It was something we started in our indies era in MISSA, a kind of dreadful feeling. Driving into those elements, it was like using them as a transitory elements as a Japanese band. That was the atmosphere. - At that point, it was like the culmination of that flow you were following, but I also think that it was like a phase of setting yourselves. Then, since that album came out, there were some moments that the direction of the wind started to gradually change. T: The parts that changed were a lot.  It also changed the atmosphere of the concerts. I think it’s fair to say the circumstances that surrounded Japanese bands about that time were  chaotic. - Were there a lot bands in transition? T: I felt it that way.  A lot of bands were in the process of claiming their individuality. Maybe at the same time, I think that each of those bands had more personality than now. Even if there are many heavy and intense bands, inside the heaviness there were bands that used some elements and other bands that used different elements. In that sense, it felt like there were several branches inside the genre. - It’s like in the royal road to heavy rock there is sense of distance, different to each one. T:Yes, yes. We wanted to stand out in the best place we could fit in. Around that time too, bands that appeared about the same time than us were at that point too. Now it’s already an old word but at that time “nu metal” started to appear as a concept. Bands that followed the stream of KORN or LIMP BIZKIT started to rise. It was an interesting moment. In short, there was something new and stimulating in heavy. Until then, all I had heard of heavy was a bit old fashioned so in contrast, when this happened (nu metal) there were more and more moments of “oh! what is this?” I think VULGAR was our response to this era. - Did you disagree at any point about heading towards a heavy direction? T:  I didn’t. From that point, we started to low our tuning rapidly. However, as a bass player, it was like entering in a really dark era (laughs) - For you, it was like a time that you felt like you were groping in the dark isn’t it? T: Yes. By tuning down, the guitars are playing in the bass range. When that happened, I didn’t know where my position would fit the best (as bassist), so I was worried. “Should I lower it even more?” but when you do this, my sound becomes invisible. -You didn’t know what to do with that gloomy bass sound, seems like it could turn out badly. T: Yes,  that’s why…..maybe these words sound bad but at that moment I think I just gave up a bit inside me. -Even now if a bassist wants to play heavy rock it’s like he must be resigned to that fate, right? T: Yes. There was a part of me that told me so. But at that point, the big deal was more about what we were going to do as a band rather than what I was going to do myself. As band, which direction would we take? What we were going to be? Thinking about it, when it comes to my playing, there is a moment in which I had to throw away my ego. As for the band sound, I had to think about how to integrate my position in it better. -If you were a band with just one guitarist, probably the circumstances would have been different, right?  T: I agree. But of course, that’s a great plus too. When you make songs lowering the tuning you can create a unique atmosphere that can’t be created with regular instruments, so after all in that part we were hand on hand and our imagination spread. Aww, I feel like I shouldn’t say these things (laughs) At that point, I was really drawn into it. I thought that our range was getting wider.  * I made the first cut here because they start to talk about WITHERING TO DEATH and overseas activities so it deserves its own chapter lol. As I said, this translation was hard to do so feel free to point out any mistake or ask for any clarification.

[ephemeralem0tions]

Hi! I've read your summary of Levihan fanfic recommendations and I've noticed that you are fond of the concept "pretend lovers". I'd love to read your version of pretend lovers, if you don't mind. (or post your Levihan art if a story is too much.) Thanks :D

*Casually inserts self in a cameo in my own fics* Can you spot me? XD

Anyways, college will start tomorrow and I’m so anxious! But for the mean time, your wish is my command ;)

P.S. I stan Coldplay 

Impress (LeviHan - Pretend Lovers)

Theme: Pretend Relationship

Rating: PG

Warning: Curse Words

send your requests/anons here x.

For the thirty-sixth time around, he turned around to face her and gave her a big fat “NO”. His face was already evidently annoyed, and a frown was already forming on her lips after so much persuasion, only to face rejection.

“Oh come on Levi! I know you also want to go to that concert! You can have the other ticket! I’m not even interested in that band!” she pleaded, but it only made him groan. He’s been hearing the same statement for the past four hours and she was still at it. Admittedly, yes, the offer is tempting, but its her purpose he questions.

“I’m not helping you get tickets for your boyfriend four eyes” he hissed. Yes, she wanted those tickets for someone else, not herself.

“He’s not even my boyfriend!” she countered “Well, yet. He promised me he’ll give me a chance if I manage to get him tickets. You know I’ve already spent my allowance money on my experiments, so this is the last resort I have”

His eyebrows furrowed. She’s worth more than a concert pass. Whoever the douche was, he sure didn’t know how brilliant and amazing the woman was, despite her frequent freaky behavior.

“No” he repeated again, firmly.

“Please! All you have to do is appear in the event. I’ll already study everything and you don’t even need to lift a single finger” she was already using her big doe eyes, but he wasn’t falling for that trick. At least not yet. He had managed to set his personal best at resisting them today. Two hours more than the past record.

She started pulling out the big guns. Making her eyes wider, glassier and more persistent than usual. Those pretty hazel irises she knew he cannot resist.

“Remind me why I have to be there again?” he sighed, and she perked up hearing those words. He definitely fell into her trap. Like always.

“Because its a couples event. You have to pretend to be my boyfriend for that time” his frown became deeper. “But you just at least appear so they see I’m with someone”

“Alright shitty glasses. I get it” he replied.

“Yes! Meet me tomorrow at the entrance of the Central Stadium!” she yelled at him from across the hallway. He didn’t even notice she was already away till her voice echoed from the distance. She gave him one final wave, and a heart melting smile before she disappeared.

Great. He was going to be her boyfriend for a day, to impress a guy who wouldn’t even let her be his girlfriend for a day without compensation.

“So what is this game about again?” he asked, as he trotted beside her who skipped excitedly. As promised, they met up in front of the stadium and now walking towards the event hall. He sighed upon seeing that she even wore the band’s shirt even though she had no fucking idea who ‘Coldplay’ was. She sure was really trying hard to impress the guy

“Its a guessing game. It will most likely be their songs and I have listened to every single album they have released last night” yeah, she reeked of coffee again.

“Welcome! May I get your names please, and your team name!” a perky brunette greeted when they reached the registration desk.

“Hanji Zoe and Levi Ackerman” she replied for the both of them.

“Your team name please?” she asked again.

“Team Titans?” it came off more like a question than an answer. He gave her a glare with her weird nerdish innuendos. This is why people avoided her, because they don’t get her.

“No silly” the receptionist chuckled. “Our team name requirement needs to be a combination of both your names. Like a ship!”

They looked at each other. He as always, had a stoic and cold expression, but she was rather embarrassed in his opinion. Her cheeks were flushed red and she was speechless, mouth hanging agape as if her brain suddenly hanged. And those moments are really rare for an intellectual girl like her. Damn she was cute.

“Well since you two can’t think of one. I’ll name it! You are officially dubbed LeviHan” she brunette declared, handing them both one sticker each with their team name to attach to their shirts. Her ponytail bounced from behind her, a sinister smile plastered on her face which give him creeps. What the fuck was wrong with this girl?

They slowly backed away from her and made their entrance to the event hall, where people were already looming and trying to find seats in the busy room.

He scanned the area. Pairs of seats are placed at least a meter away from each other, so no team could cheat and copy answers. A tablet and touch pen laid on the table, where they could write their answers after the host up front on the stage shoots the question.

The music started to die down, and everyone was requested to find their respective places. They opted for a more low key position, down at the back corner, where no one would mind them that much.

“The mechanics are simple! You just need to write your answer on the tab in front of you in the span of thirty seconds. If your answer is correct, your tab will glow green and automatically move on to the next question. If you are wrong, it will glow red and your screen will be stuck to your last answer” the host started up. “Now ladies and gentlemen, please write your team name on the tab”

Hanji immediately picked up the pen and wrote in the messiest way possible. He was almost anxious that it couldn’t be read by the android, but silently whispered his thanks when the sides of the gadget glowed green and automatically emptied the screen.

“Great! I see everyone is ready and registered. To win this game, you must be the last couple standing after answering all our questions. Only the top Coldplay fanatic can pass this test” the host spoke again. “Now for the first question. What is the full name of the lead vocalist?” he heard his partner cuss from the side.

“I memorized songs not facts and background” she murmured, panic evident in her features. He sighed and stared at her, she will definitely fail if he would not help out.

“Christopher Anthony Martin” he whispered, sight directed up front so it looked like he didn’t care at all.

“What?” she looked at him with wide eyes.

“I said Christopher Anthony Martin. Now write it on the board before we loose time” he repeated, and she did what she was told to do so. Soon enough, green light emitted from their own tab, making her smile wide at him. They were going to win this game.

“What song featured Beyonće?”

“Hymn for the Weekend”

“Who in the band is left handed?”

“The bassist. Guy Berryman”

“In 1997, the band’s name was?”

“Starfish”

She gave him a weird look.

“What?” he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Who names their band Starfish?” she questioned him.

“Says the girl who named her team Team Titan” he rolled his eyes. “Quit talking and start writing”

“Whose death wake did they perform for?”

“Steve Jobs” she continued with her disbelieving look but he did not mind her anymore.

“For which three companies did they turn down contracts?”

“Coke, Gatorade and GAP”

“Who married first in the band?”

“The drummer. Will Champion”

They continued doing so, for the rest of the day. Hanji did come up with her own answers once in a while, when the questions were about ‘what’s the title of the song’ or ‘complete the lyrics’. She most definitely did her research.

“Yes!” she giggled, staring at the two tickets in her hand for the fifth time around as the walk away from the stadium. The setting sun definitely made her prettier from his view. Her unique nose, glasses, eyes, smile illuminated by the warm glowing light. He considered it a mission success in helping her and making her happy.

“So you can go to your shitty boyfriend now shitty glasses” he stopped and folded his arms over his chest. He honestly felt annoyed by the fact that his hard work will go to someone else when he did it for her. But whatever makes her happy, supposedly could make him happy too. Right?

“Oh Levi!” he took a step back, as she took him in one of her bone crushing hugs. On any other day, he would have shoved her away or avoided it. But perhaps the afternoon nostalgia made him a bit softer? Or was it that he was mentally tired after remembering all the facts about his favorite band.

A piece of hard paper was suddenly placed in his hand. The other ticket, as she promised was right in his grasp. She gave him a wide smile but he returned to it with a frown.

“Take it shitty glasses” he put back the ticket inside her palms. “Just go and have a date with your boyfriend or whatever” he ‘tsked’.

“No silly” she gave it back to him, and this time, encased it with his fingers. Now she was holding his closed fist with her warm hands which sent shivers down his spine. Her touch is so comforting. “I got this ticket for you, not for anyone else. Because I know you wouldn’t shell out money even if your favorite band went to town. I couldn’t buy you tickets so I decided to get you one with your help”

His mouth hung agape. She did all of it for him? It didn’t quite process in his mind yet.

“You tricked me? This is for me? But what about the other ticket? I thought this was supposed to be for your boy friend?” his forehead scrunched up with his confusion. She chuckled after all his questions.

“Yes I tricked you. This is all for you. I’ll meet you at the concert hall tomorrow night, the other one is for me to accompany you. And yes, it is for my boy friend” she left him dazed and frozen on the side walk, while she ran away from him.

“O-Oi! Four eyes!” he tried to call for her, but she was already waving at him goodbye from the other side of the street. Damn that stubborn ass unpredictable woman.

[ghostsinthewoods]

Chapter Three: Born to Lose

“You really think it was him?”

The old Birthday Zone of the Party Barn was the same as it always was: dusty, quiet, and littered with birthday streamers. Mae and Gregg had been the first to arrive, like usual, and the two best friends sat alone on their makeshift stage.

“I mean, I didn’t really get a good look at him the last time I saw him, but he looks like what I remembered,” Mae sighed. “Only, you know, not bleeding and crying.”

Gregg was acting like Beatrice had when Mae told her about this; surprised, but not entirely disbelieving.  Mae kind of liked having her friends believe her. Then again, running into someone from an old softball game was a lot more likely than ‘Oh, hey, ghosts.’

Not that ghosts were impossible. In fact, in Mae’s opinion, they were very possible. The possiblest.

“That sounds like a pretty garbage night,” Gregg said consolingly.

“And the worst part is I didn’t even see Bombshell!” Mae blurted.

“Oh!” Gregg said. “Uh, yeah, I guess that’s… worse?” He blinked in confusion. Mae realized almost immediately that Gregg wouldn’t really be able to get this. He’d been dating Angus for years, after all. He probably didn’t know remember anxious seeking out someone you were into was.

“I mean, on the plus side, Jackie didn’t, like, blow up at me or anything,” Mae began.

“Jackie’s cool,” Gregg interrupted. “She’s really intense.”

Wait. Gregg knew Jackie? Well, Mae thought, everyone in Possum Springs probably knew at least a little bit about Jackie. It was a small town, and she’d been big news.

“I guess,” Mae sighed. “Whatever. Yeah, it was a garbage night.”

“Throw that night in the garbage can, where it lives,” Gregg said.

“I saw a raccoon living in a garbage can once,” a voice said.

Mae nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard it. She knew who it was, of course, but she hadn’t seen him where he was standing. He was partially obscured by one of the Party Barn’s support beams. It didn’t look like he was trying to hide; it was just where he’d chosen to stand.

“Oh, hey, Germ,” Gregg said to their visitor. He didn’t seem as freaked out as Mae.

“Hey,” Germ said, stepping out from behind the pillar. He walked up to the stage, hands in his jacket’s pockets.

Mae frowned. Honestly, if Germ hadn’t saved their lives and given them sodas, she’d have been a little mad at the little weirdo. As it was, she was merely perturbed. Not that Mae new what ‘perturbed’ meant.

The scraping sound of the rear door opening filled the room, and was followed by a pair of voices talking to each other.

“Yeah, he’s coming home in a few weeks, so I’ve gotta visit her.”

“You really should talk to him about that, Angus. You’d think he’d understand.”

Beatrice and Angus stepped into the Birthday Zone. Neither of them was smiling. None of them were smiling. Well, Germ never emoted much, but for the rest of them, it was clear they were all kinda moody.

Gregg, at least, perked up when he saw Angus. “Hey, Cap,” he said. “How was work?”

“Someone came in trying to sell ‘cursed video tapes’,” Angus said.

“Holy shit,” Mae said, amazed. “Where’d they get them? A warlock flea market?”

“Those aren’t a thing, so no.” Angus responded. “And they were just old jazzercise tapes from the 90’s.”

“Jazzercise is a type of curse,” Bea said.

Mae found herself laughing at that, despite feeling down. When she heard her laugh, Bea looked over at her, concerned. It made Mae feel weird. Why the heck did Beatrice have to be such a Mom Friend? Jeez, Bea.

“You feeling any better?” Beatrice asked. “After last night, I mean.”

“Ugh. I guess,” Mae sighed. “I dunno. Like, how am I even supposed to feel? He clearly didn’t recognize me. Which is weird. I mean, you’d think what happened would be pretty memorable. Should I feel good that he didn’t know who I am? Because I don’t.”

“Wait,” Angus said. “Who are we talking about?”

Mae filled Angus in. All about how, the night before, she’d gone to a party, had the world’s worst conversation, didn’t see the world’s hottest Bombshell, and also ran into the kid who she’d put in the hospital.

“Wow,” Angus said. “That sounds like a garbage night, Mae.”

“Hey, that’s what I said!” Gregg exclaimed. His expression got all mushy. “Awww, Cap’n.”

Angus chuckled, but it seemed like he had a lot on his mind, as well. Whatever. Mae could ask when they were done playing. If they actually got around to playing, that is. Lately, band practice had become a support group for death cult survivors.

Only, like, occasionally the support group played a song.

“Alright, chief,” Mae said, turning her attention back to Gregg. “What are we playing?”

Gregg seemed to snap back to reality. The boring version of reality that didn’t involve gushing over his boyfriend. He fidgeted, and soon pulled out an old, worn spiral notebook that he’d been sitting on. Written on the cover, in black magic marker, was ‘CAMG’.

“Holy shit, dude,” Mae said. “Where’d you find that?”

“It was under one of our couch cushions,” Angus explained. “No clue how it got there.”

“I think I stashed it under there once during one of our post-band jam pizza parties,” Gregg said. He passed the old notebook to Mae, who began leafing through its pages.

“What is that thing, anyway?” Bea asked. “What’s it say on the front?”

“Casey, Angus, Mae, Gregg. This is our old songbook,” Gregg said. He was positively beaming, and he probably would have been flailing his arms if he wasn’t sitting down. “From back when we started the band in, like, 11th grade. It’s got all of our old songs in it.”

Mae flipped through the pages, feeling the worn paper between her fingers. Different pages were marked with post-it notes. Originally, they each had tried to use a different colored note for their individual songs, but after the great Post-It Note War, they’d just all started using Angus’s blue ones.

Mae could still remember them trading this book around every few days. It tended to spend most of its time with Gregg or Casey, but Mae had written a few songs herself. She flipped to one of the red post-it notes, and found herself looking at one of her old songs.

She then promptly flipped the page, because it was the song that should not be named. Ever.

The song after hers, however, was one she didn’t recognize. Mae didn’t think they’d ever played this one. It was written in Casey’s scratchy handwriting, lyrics accompanied by simple notes. The song’s title was written up in the header:

‘BORN TO LOSE.’

I don’t know where I’ve come from

Don’t know where I’ll be

I see these folks living their lives

Every night on the TV

Me, I’ve got no life to live

So tell me what you’d see

If I gave it all I’ve got to give

And you said goodbye to me

It took Mae a bit to really wrap her head around this. Casey had never been poetic, but he’d been pretty good at writing lyrics. And these were definitely lyrics from a Casey song. All of Casey’s songs were like this, unless they were about skatboards or monster trucks. But even those songs were kind of downers.

“This is really sad,” Mae mused.

“Yeah, it’s pretty beat up,” Gregg said. “I must’ve sat on it, like, a million times.”

“No, I mean this song,” Mae grumbled. “You sitting on something isn’t sad, Gregg. Your butt isn’t sad.”

Gregg only gave Mae a blank look, but the bassist returned her attention to the song. The more lyrics she read, the more she started to realize something.

“Guys, we have to play this,” she said. “This thing is like a memento from Casey.”

That got Gregg’s attention. “It’s definitely a Casey song,” He said, reading over Mae’s shoulder. “Scratch that. It’s a high school Casey song. He wasn’t that great at music back then.”

Gregg pointed at something written in the margin of the notes. “See? Right here, it says ‘the big solo.’ What’s that even mean? Whose solo?”

“Probably a drum solo,” Angus said. “Casey liked to show off.”

Hearing Casey being talked about in the past tense like that made Mae feel awful. Lately, her dreams had been especially bad. The fire, the stars, the Casey; they were all getting more and more vivid. Almost like it was real.

“Hey, for all you know, I am real.”

“Oh, shut up,” Mae grumbled. She tried to ignore the strange looks her friends gave her.

The band jam had gone pretty smoothly once they’d deciphered Casey’s handwriting. The melody had been simple, but then again, it had been written back when they were just starting out and only knew, like, four notes. On the plus side, it had been pretty hard to screw up.

After they had practiced, everyone was more or less free. They’d all decided to head on out to Taco Buck for dinner afterwards. That was fine with Mae; Taco Buck was delicious, and it was cheap enough that she didn’t feel bad about her friends paying for it.

Germ had tagged along. He hadn’t asked or anything; he’d just sort of followed them. Mae was kind of used to that by now.

“My jacket still smells like barf,” Gregg said as he chowed down on the limited edition pierogi taco.

“It’s hard to clean barf out of a leather jacket,” Angus commented.

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about, but can you not talk about it when I am literally eating?” Bea asked.

“They’re not talking about anything,” Mae said. “They’re crazy liars.” She hurriedly took a bite out of her pizza taco.

“I can’t believe you’d attack our character like this,” Gregg said, raising his hand to his mouth in fake shock.

Angus defensively put his arm around Gregg, as if to protect him from Mae’s words. “This slander shall not stand,” he said, his tone as deadpan as always.

That brought a small round of chuckles out of the assorted friends.

A moment of silence passed before someone finally spoke. When they did, Mae almost wished they hadn’t.

“So, it turns out that moving is kind of really hard,” Gregg said, his mouth full of onions and taco meats.

Mae felt a weight in her stomach. That might have been the pizza taco, though.

“Do you guys, like, have an apartment picked out?” Bea asked. She seemed fine with this sort of talk. Well, Mae thought, Bea was kind of tough. Even if she was sad they were moving, she probably wouldn’t show it.

Mae looked over at Germ to see if he was okay with this talk of moving and Bright Harbor. Germ, as always, seemed unperturbed (Again, a word Mae barely knew). He was busy just shoveling corn chips down his throat. Just, really going at them. Wow.

“We’re heading down there in a couple of weeks to check places out,” Angus said. “Should be fun.”

“I’m totally gonna learn to surf!” Gregg yelled excitedly. “It’s gonna be so cool, guys. God, I can’t believe we’re already so close.”

“Yeah, me either,” Mae muttered. She solemnly took another bite of her pizza taco.

It tasted like sadness and crispy cheese.

After dinner, the gang said their goodbyes, and it was time to head home. As always, the walk home from Taco Buck was a journey of self-discovery and upset stomachs. Mae really needed to stop eating enough food for, like, four people.

Eh. Maybe later.

“It really sucks that I died before I got a chance to eat at the taco place.”

“Oh, god, just shut up,” Mae whispered under her breath. This late, the streets were fairly empty. Even so, Mae didn’t want to risk being heard.

She wasn’t even sure when she’d started hearing Casey when she was awake. It had just happened. He hadn’t even started out as a voice, so much as an idea. And even now, he was just the idea of a voice.

It occurred to Mae that hearing the voice of your dead friend inside of your head probably wasn’t a good sign. Oh, well. She had an appointment with Dr. Feldman in a few days; she’d talk about it then.

“You’re not gonna talk about it. You’re not gonna talk about anything. You’ll clam up.”

“God, you’re not even real,” Mae grumbled. “You’re just, like, stress, or guilt, or whatever. Or maybe I’m going nuts. I was already heading down that road. You know, with all of my brain problems.”

“You should, like, not ever go outside again. You might see Andy again, and then it’d be weird.”

“I am going to drive a drill through my skull and into your imaginary face,” Mae snarled. “I don’t care if you’re real or not. You, face, drill.”

“What?”

Mae froze when she heard the voice. She hadn’t been paying attention, and hadn’t seen Selmers sitting out on her front porch. The older woman was staring at Mae, who did her best to hide her embarrassment.

“You okay, Mae?” Selmers asked. “You were, like, mumbling to yourself.”

Mae sighed. “Yeah. Just… tired. Really, really tired.”

“You say that you’re tired a lot,” Selmers pointed out. “How much sleep are you getting?”

“I dunno. Ten, eleven hours?”

“Oh,” Selmers said. “So, sleep isn’t the main problem, I guess.”

Mae wandered over to Selmers’ front steps and took a seat beside her. Selmers didn’t seem bothered by this. She’d always been laid back and cool, even when Mae was a kid. Almost a big sister, kinda.

“Lately, I can’t stop thinking about all of my screw ups,” Mae said. “Something big happened to me last year, and I kinda thought that it would, like, change the way I look at things. But I guess even if it did, the stuff that’s happened still happened.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Selmers said. “What kinds of screw ups are you thinking about? I think we all, like, think about our mistakes sometimes.”

“I’m talking about the big screw up,” Mae explained.

“Oh,” Selmers said. She evidently didn’t need to ask any more questions. Even if she hadn’t been there during the softball incident, it was a small town, and news traveled fast.

“You know,” Selmers said, “and I don’t know if this will help, but a buddy of mine from the program said that, in AA, they’ve got a thing called making amends.”

“I don’t think I should join AA. I don’t really drink,” Mae said. “My dad used to go to meetings, and he got, like, a bunch of medals or something. For not doing beer.”

“That’s cool,” Selmers said. “Medals are cool.

“But, anyway, if you feel like you’ve made some serious screw ups, you could try that whole making amends thing. Like, try and make it right with the people you’ve hurt. Or something. I dunno. I’m sleepy.”

The idea was scary. Apologize to people she’d hurt? Aside from Andy, there were lots of people that Mae would need to make amends with.

At the same time, though, the idea sounded really good. Mae had no clue how well it could possibly work out, but at the very least, it would provide some closure. Right?

“Selmers,” Mae said, “you give really good advice.”

“Thanks,” Selmers said. “I’m wise beyond my years.”

That night, in her dreams, Mae visited the fire again.

She had been thinking about the party again, so it made sense. Mae usually tried to not think about the Possum Leap party, but her idea of making amends had gotten her thinking about it.

She couldn’t just start off with apologizing to Andy. The next party wasn’t for, like, a month. Or so Mae assumed.

So, it would make sense to start making amends around town. There were probably a lot of people in Possum Springs that Mae needed to apologize to.

“Like who?” Casey asked. “The pierogi guy? Mr. Penderson?”

Mae scoffed. “No, those guys are jerks. All I did was, like, steal or vandalize those guys. I’m talking about people I actually hurt.”

“Like me, when you threw a softball at my head?”

“No,” Mae said. “You agreed to that. Besides, the Frisbee you threw hurt a lot more than some dumb baseball.”

“Do you think my parents still put up posters?” The Dream Casey asked. “A lot of posters been going up lately.  Those folks in the mine had friends and family.”

“Shut up,” Mae grumbled. She didn’t want to think about this. Not that the Dream Casey was giving her much of an option. “It’s not my fault. Those guys were assholes. I’m not upset that they’re probably dead.”

“People still miss them, though. People don’t know what they did, who they were. We all die cold, alone, and in a hole.” The Dream Casey popped what looked like a marshmallow into his mouth. Mae couldn’t really tell what it had been; everything was blurry today.

“That’s inspiring,” Mae muttered. “You got a lot more cryptic when you became a ghost, you know that?”

“Yeah, I’m, like, spooky, and shit,” Casey said. “Assuming I even am a ghost, that is. You might just be going nuts with your guilt.”

Mae said nothing. Why bother arguing in a dream? What would that possibly accomplish? In every dream Mae had ever happened, everything felt like it wouldn’t change. Events just happened. It was scary.

“You should go steal my boat,” Casey said, “and, you know, live in it. Like a boat hobo.”

Mae frowned. “Casey, I don’t even know what you did with your boat. And I’m not going to live in it; it probably can’t fit a mattress.”

“You’re sleeping on your arm,” Casey argued. “You ate too many tacos and your stomach is upset.”

That was all true, but Mae didn’t think it would make her more likely to live in a boat. “I like it better when you’re being spooky and guilt-trippy.”

“Lumpy pillow!” Casey screamed.

And he was right. The pillow was lumpy.