#how to warmup vocally

[wizardiest-wizard-of-oz]

if anyone asks I most definitely did not just lip trill all of both four jews and falsettoland/about time and call that my full vocal warmup before rehearsal and my face most definitely isn't fully numb from that

[i-love-books-because-reasons]

How to Sing: 3 Minute Warm up Voice Lesson

[whetstonefires]

Another recommendation for pill-swallowing problems, from my personal experience: vocal warmups.

Seriously, a lot of us have very stiff throat muscles so it can make a huge difference to how well your throat accommodates the pill.

Start with just very throaty humming, up and down your range but focus especially on achieving the 'down' because low notes are flexing open. (Don't force it if it's painful though! Patience!)

Once that's smoothed out switch to open-mouthed notes, still going up and down--you can do just aaaAAAAaaaa or a proper scale or whatever you like. Get louder after a while, if possible. Sing from the gut. It does not matter if you think you 'sound good' this is for your health.

I usually finish up by singing a few verses of something comfortably in my range with lots of long notes, like 'Hallelujah.' At the end of all this, or even an abbreviated version of it, pill usually much easier. Even swallowing water is easier.

hey you!

yeah, you who has trouble swallowing pills.

When I was about 23, I finally had someone teach me a trick that worked.  Put the pill in your mouth, take a sip of liquid to hold in your mouth.  Toss your head back dramatically so the pill and liquid roll to the back of your tongue.  While your head is still back like you’re doing a Pepsi commercial, take another drink and swallow.

You’re welcome.

Unless it didn’t work for you in which case, back to crushing them up with two spoons.  Sorry about that.

[mostbrilliantidiot]

Y'all I cannot express enough how grateful I am that my dad heard about my interest in voice work ( just as a hobby! Not professionally!) and he dug through his inventory of equipment (professional equipment!) And found everything he had updated that a beginner could use and still sound good and just went "want it?"

Anyone who knows about recording setups knows how expensive they get

And I'm just being handed a full beginner set up

[sturnskiss]

pretty voice ! ᥫ᭡

pairing: matt sturniolo x popstar! reader

word count: 1.7k

summary: you’re a singer and your tour has made its way to boston where your boyfriend and his brothers attend your show. matt is sure to let you know how well you did after the show

warnings: smut duhhhh, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap his willy!!), p in v, throat fucking, dumbification, dacryphilia, stomach bulge, swearing, creampie, use of “y/n”, probably more that i can’t think of! :)

authors note: fair warning, this is my first time publishing smut, so don’t have insanely high expectations! i’ve written it before but never shared so keep that in mind. however, i can assure you this isn’t completely horrible and i did my best to make it seem realistic but hot at the same time :) hope ya like it!

you had been counting down the days until your sold out world tour made its way to boston, massachusetts. your boyfriend, matt, and his brothers were set to attend the show which made you feel slightly uneasy.

the triplets have never seen you perform live, which is what makes this show so special. you wanted matt to know you were good at what you do. so, you paced around your dressing room doing vocal warmups and eating tablespoons of honey to help your throat.

a stage worker knocked on your door twice before coming in and attaching your mic pack to the back of your dress. tonight, you wore a black strapless mini dress from versace that had hearts of many colors scattered across. you paired this with knee high black boots, which your friends referred to as your “stripper shoes”. you fixed your hair, spraying some dry shampoo on your roots and mentally said a prayer before walking out of the dressing room.

you received your cue to enter the stage, walking up 4 steps before you were greeted with hundreds of screaming teenage girls. you forgot about needing to impress matt.

that was, until, you locked eyes with him. he was standing on the second floor of the venue, the balcony, resting against the railing. watching you so intently, mouthing the lyrics to your songs. nick was singing along to all the songs he knew, while chris just knew the popular songs. but matt knew almost all of your songs. he was your biggest fan. and you were his. most times, you would be spotted attending the triplet’s shows when your schedules aligned. you’d stand backstage, just barely out of the crowds sight. all decked out in blue attire to support your boy, and even the things the rest of the world couldn’t see were blue, too. but matt got to see them after the show. your blue bra and matching blue panties; it drove matt crazy how he got to see you like that after the show, especially if he was the one winning that night.

the show came to an end and you said your goodbyes to the boston crowd, exiting the stage. you walked into a lounge area where the triplets were, along with members of your team. you were swarmed with the usual compliments: “you sounded so good” or “you look great” and you were grateful for them, but tonight they didn’t matter. the only person who’s input you cared about was matt.

he approached you, draping his arms around your neck and you wrapped yours around his waist. he whispered in your ear, “you did so good. ‘m so proud of you.”

you blushed at this, pulling away from the hug. “thanks,” you gushed.

since your next show wasn’t until saturday, you had two days to kill here in boston. you were going to stay with the triplets until you had to get back on your tour bus and depart from matt, so you had to make it count.

matt drove you all home, you took chris’ place in the passenger seat, still in your performance outfit. the drive home was filled with conversation about the concert; what their favorite part was, what songs they liked, etc. and while you were a decently known singer, you never felt famous. until now. matt made you feel famous, like you are on top of the world. you have everything you’ve ever wanted; friends that support you, a successful singing career, and a hot boyfriend. what more could a girl ask for?

you walked through the door barefoot, matt holding your unusually heavy boots. he sets them on the floor by the door as you make a run for the couch, laying down and sighing. while it may be just a simple couch, it feels pretty damn good after wearing “stripper shoes” and prancing around on a stage for an hour and a half.

nick and chris go to their own rooms, knowing you and matt need alone time after not seeing each other for a couple weeks. matt joins you on the couch, he lifts your head up and places it on his lap. his legs were your pillow and the only thing missing was a blanket, still in your tiny dress.

“you cold?” he asks, almost as if he can your mind.

you smile, “how’d you know?”

he reaches to his side and grabs a big blue blanket and tosses it over you, it’s big enough that it covers your whole body.

matt lightly strokes your hair as you lay there in the comfortable silence.

the way your head rests is so close to his dick and he can’t help it if it slowly is getting harder, which it is. you tease him, nuzzling your head deeper into his lap, a.k.a. his dick, which causes him to speak up.

“the fuck are you doing?” he laughs.

you play it off, “just getting comfy!”

“yeah, comfy my ass.” he rolls his eyes playfully.

you press a small kiss to his clothed bulge, he’s wearing baggy jeans and his dick still stands out. he sighs, not complaining.

“you gonna do this right here? in the living room?” he questions.

“mhm..” you hummed. he helped you unbutton his jeans, his black calvin kleins peaking out through the zipper of his jeans. he pulled his boxers down, revealing his dick. he was packing a very pleasant 8 inches that wasn’t too shabby in girth either.

you licked the tip first, then you licked from shaft to tip. matt closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the couch. he placed his hands on the back of your head, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

“voice sounded so good tonight, y/n,” he breathed. “bet it would still sound good if i fucked your throat.”

he pushes your head down all the way to his pelvis, feeling you gag against his cock. he thrusts into your mouth, the wet sounds like music to his ears.

as he fucked your throat, you felt tears forming in your eyes. you hollowed out your cheeks and looked up at him with doe eyes, laying on your stomach on the couch. you admired the way his eyes fluttered shut everytime he hit the back of your throat, how he’d let out small breathy moans.

“fuck,” he whispers, pulling away. he pulls his boxers down farther so his thighs are exposed. you climb on top of hip and he rolls your tight dress up to your waist, pulling your panties to the side.

“easy access, huh?” he remarks.

you whine, “put it in already…”

his dick enters you and he wastes no time slamming you down on it, his hands firmly gripping your hips. “want it so bad, yeah? you want it so bad?” he taunts, lifting you up and slamming you back down fast.

you are shocked with the speed he did that, not able to form a full sentence. “i- uhm- mhm,” you mumble.

“use that pretty voice of yours, y/n. such a pretty voice… let me hear it,” he rasped.

you bounced on his dick, the couch shaking. “mmmmm, i love your dick so much,” you moaned.

matt smirked, “there’s that pretty voice. so, so pretty.” he continued helping you bounce on his dick, his tip repeatedly hitting your g-spot.

he pulled the top of your dress down, revealing your bra-less tits. now your dress was basically like a belt, just covering your waist. your boobs bounced perfectly in front of his face, he was mesmerized.

you brought your hands up to his hair, running your fingers through it and pulling it when he’d hit your g-spot.

you let out a moan that was almost melodic, matt moaning after. “love hearing you moan on my dick.” he spoke. he gripped your hips tighter, slamming you down harder onto his dick every time.

“i’m gonna- oh god!” you whined.

“do it.” matt instructed. “cum for me.”

you nodded, babbling incoherently as you came undone on top of him. his right hand left your hip and found it’s way to your clit, rubbing you through the orgasm.

“fucked ya dumb, huh? damn,” he said.

you hummed in response, and once your orgasm passed you started bouncing again, desperate for more.

matt turned you around and pushed you onto the couch, in missionary now. now he can pound into you way easier, which is what you’re trying to ask for but you’re unable to speak.

“i— oh—“ you try.

matt smirks, “words, baby.”

this fucker, you thought. there are no thoughts inside your head other than how good his dick feels inside you, there’s no way you can speak.

“oh god… so, umph,” you sobbed as he thrusted into you with an insane amount of force. “so good,”

his thumb found its way to your clit again, rubbing it fast. your eyes rolled back as another orgasm approaches you.

“uhhh- uh—“ you babble. your brain is mush at this point, you don’t notice the bulge in your stomach. but matt does, as his hand leaves your clit and presses on the bulge his dick makes in your tummy with every thrust.

“look at that,” he says proudly. you squirm beneath him, cumming yet for the second time.

his thrusts don’t slow down, and neither do the tears running down your pink cheeks.

“can i cum inside you?” he asks as if you can even answer him. you let out a bunch of moans in response.

you let out a bunch of moans, “i’m gonna take that as a yes.” matt groans before thrusting into you once more. you lay on the couch with your dress still pulled over your pussy and your breasts pulled out.

matt stands up and pulls his boxers and pants up. he plants a kiss on your forehead before he picks you up and carries you to his room. he lays you down in his bed, his silk bedsheets feeling good on your overheated skin.

you’re exhausted, you feel like you melt into his bed. you’re on the verge of sleep but you’re startled when you hear either chris or nick’s bedroom door open.

you lift your head up, and matt opens the door to see what is going on. matt laughs and closes the door.

“what’s he doing?” you ask sleepily.

“nicks wiping the couch down,” matt giggles.

you hear nick through the walls, “i’m gonna fucking cry. never do that shit again.” he whines.

[yawnderu]

CW: cucking, voyeurism, jealous FWB!Simon, is there a tag for Simon being straight but making a cuck suck his dick asking for a friend- breeding kink at the end if you squint.

“That all you got?” Simon taunts, his tone filled with condescension as he looks down at the man fucking you pathetically; just a warmup for Simon, something to get you nice and ready.

“Go on, then. Make her scream.” As he speaks, Simon unbuttons his pants, his hard and throbbing cock springing free. His hand goes down to his shaft, starting to stroke himself slowly as he focuses on the way the other man is fucking you, seemingly going harder than usual based on your surprised expression. He's not bad at it— but he's not Simon, just a placeholder while he's deployed, you both know it.

“Pathetic excuse for a fuck.” Simon's eyes lock into yours, his gaze intense and demanding despite the needy look you give him, greedily wanting more than what the man fucking you from behind can offer. It's almost enough to make him falter, but he just keeps stroking his cock, his desire for you growing with each thrust, hips bucking into his own hand.

“Like that?” The man asks you softly, planting a hard smack to your ass, only making you moan louder. Simon takes a step closer, his throbbing cock standing tall and proud, a challenge evident in his eyes.

“Move.” Simon isn't a patient man. A month-long deployment is enough to make his balls almost painfully heavy, the tip of his cock looking almost red, leaking precum like a broken faucet. He grips the man's hair, fingers tightening their hold as he pushes him aside, barely using any strength.

The man's blue eyes lock on Simon's cock before going back to meeting his gaze, a display of pure submission that goes ignored. Simon positions himself behind you, one of his hands gripping your hip firmly, making sure you stay in place. He rubs his cock up and down your folds, pausing after a second as he looks down at the man watching intently.

“Fuckin' hell, mate. Can't even make her wet.” There's annoyance clear on his tone, though possessiveness is also bleeding through it, subtly showing care for you, even when all he wants right now is to fuck. You look over your shoulder just to see Simon position himself in front of the kneeling man, his throbbing cock tantalizingly close to his face.

His eyes widen slightly when the man leans in closer, making eye contact with him before wrapping his hesitant but eager mouth around Simon's thick cock. The unexpected act sends a jolt of arousal through his body, his dominance and desire intensifying.

“Suck it like you mean it.” He tightens his grip on the man's hair, guiding his movements as he thrusts into his wet, inviting mouth, making him take it deeper despite his loud gags. Simon's eyes lock with yours, his gaze filled with nothing but pure dominance. An audible groan escapes his lips, his breath growing heavy as he tilts his head back, quickly pushing the man away once his cock is wet enough.

“Watch closely, lad. This is how a real man fucks.” He lines himself up to your pretty cunt, taking a moment to admire the curves of your body, the swell of your ass that only adds to your allure.

“Always ready for me, hm?” Simon is never this vocal during sex— he's simply showing off, and you both know it, yet you don't bother teasing him about it, arching your back to give him easier access instead. He wastes no time, thrusting into you with a force that leaves you breathless. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he sets a rough, punishing pace, his movements rough and unrelenting.

He leans closer to you, burly arms wrapping around your waist for leverage as his masked face rests on your soft back, your hands gripping the sheets underneath you, the other man in the room long forgotten.

“Mine.” He whispers into your ear, only for you to hear. He rams his cock into you, making his point clear, setting a punishing rhythm. As your orgasm washes over you, Simon's release is quick to follow, his body tensing up and shuddering against yours as he shoots ropes of hot cum right into your needy cunt, thrusting as deep as possible, secretly hoping your birth control will fail this time.

[suempu]

tw: nonconsensual kissing. graphic wording.

"you look lonely."

ivan sighs while you situate yourself on the sofa beside him. his room is pitch dark, save for the light from the tv broadcast.

mindless advertisements and commercials mix and buzz into the air, creating a fog of background noise. and you wonder whose poor soul is getting killed on that stage at this very moment.

you spread your arm and dramatically bring him into a side hug. "nothing a bit of booze won't fix. ha ha ha!!" exclaiming with the vigor of an alcoholic, ivan can only groan in frustration.

"i'm not getting wasted with you." his eyes look worn down, mouth wrinkling into a frown as he tries to hide the agony behind a stone cold face.

a part of him is comforted by your presence, a sense of normality washes over him. as if you two were still children playing across the fake fields and staring at the equally as fake sky, laughing as you tackled each other to the ground and picked flowers.

"too late, i brought the good shit." you snicker as you bring out weird looking bottles. you're not exactly sure how safe these are for humans but the aliens seem to love it so, who cares? "this was hard to steal by the way, i got it from those private rooms."

ivan stares at you for a moment and eventually rests his head on your shoulder. he looks at you, cold ice wall melting down and you're met with the sight of absolute pain and distress on his pretty face when he sighs.

"why does it have to feel like this?" he whispers, voice cracking from the amount of vocal training and warmups he's been forced to endure that day.

you take a deep breath and open a bottle, careful with your movements as his heavy head rested on your arm. "what? wanna runaway? you know i wouldn't hesitate if you asked." chuckling as you tried reading the labels.

ivan knows though. you're the closest thing he's got to a friend. you'd do anything for him and with him. and of course he'd do the same but... you're not the person he holds nearest to his heart.

"it's funny," he watches as you sniff the alcoholic aroma before taking a sip. "no matter how much they make us do these—things, no matter how much it hurts... why is this thing in my chest more painful?"

your face falls blank, glaring at the bottle before taking a big chug. you hope it'll get rid of your own pain, wash away all the emotions and feelings of him.

and its funny. because what kind of weird fucking love hexagon is this?

you despise till.

you wish you could tear his bones out and wear his skin, take out his tongue and say all the things ivan has always wanted to hear and keep his heart for your own.

"i wish i knew the answer to that."

looking down at him and seeing his exhausted face, makes your heart break. you want to gather yours and his shattered pieces and construct a deformed statue of love and just hope it'll be enough for him. enough to replace the burning loneliness he's been forced to go through.

but no. even if he were to love you, it'd take a million years to pass, thousands of stars to die, and hundreds of planets to explode until then.

you bump your forehead into his and watch as his eyes widen. smirking to yourself, you think, what more could i lose?

"let's be lonely together then. just this once."

you whisper before kissing him.

[reysdriver]

Exit Stage Right | R.L

You and your daughter miss Remus while he's performing for a stadium of fans, so much that you have to see him before the concert is over — dad!rockstar!remus x mom!reader fluff

warnings: a little angsty if you squint rlly hard, but nothing else

words: 2.4k

a/n: I promised rockstar!remus a while ago, but I've been to 2 concerts in the last 2 weeks, which just so happens to be finals season, so I've been simultaneously busy as hell and itching to write this. I hope you like how it turned out!

Your daughter Olive was no stranger to loud noises. 

Remus had a room to practise drumming in your house, it’s normal to encounter a chaotic mess of fans and paparazzi when you left the house as a family, and she just about had the loudest uncles in the world. Though you tried to limit the amount of noise she took in, Olive’s little ears had definitely adapted to her hectic little life. 

But all that noise in her daily life was no match for a rock concert in a sold-out stadium. Those decibel levels would for sure be far too high for her little ears to handle.

It wasn’t as easy of a decision on what you should do with her tonight, though. You were getting cabin fever with all the identical hotel rooms you’ve been living in while The Marauders were on their tour, and you suspected Olive was in the same boat. 

So, you decided to go back to the old days when the band first started going on long tours, when you would stay in the dressing room for the length of the performance. You and Remus figured it would be soundproof enough backstage, but you still insisted on pulling out the baby headphones you had bought just in case before she was even born. You were only planning on using them if it got especially loud backstage, yet you tried them on anyway. 

They were massive on her, but they kept her safe and happy. Plus, she was pretty damn adorable with them on—not that she wasn’t all the time, but definitely cuter than normal with those giant headphones. 

Waiting for the show to start, Remus bounced Olive on his lap while you watched the rest of the guys run through their current individual pre-show rituals. 

It had been quite a while since you’ve been backstage with the band right before a show, and you honestly forgot how entertaining it was. 

James was trying to solve the same Rubik’s cube he’s been working on for years to warm up his fingers, Peter was doing the daily crossword in the local newspaper, and Sirius was trying to multitask by doing his vocal warmups and his makeup at the same time. 

It was really a terrible combination of tasks, as Sirius kept on messing up his eyeliner and then trying to suppress his favourite swear words for your daughter’s sake. 

You wanted to tell him off, but it was really too fun to watch for you to intervene.

A minute or so after Sirius finally finished his look, the boys’ manager knocked on the dressing room door and reminded them that they have to go on stage soon. 

Remus thanked him, and the guys all started getting ready to go. He kept Olive in his arms for as long as he could, until it was just the three of you in the room after everyone was already headed to the stage. 

When he finally had to let her go, Remus made sure he gave you both a proper goodbye. 

“I’ll be back soon. Just over 2 hours, then we can all go home.” He kissed you softly, but deeply. He always does this as a way of saying goodbye, kissing you like he might never do it again, but he doesn’t want you to think about it. 

When his lips left yours and he slouched down to blow a raspberry on Olive’s tummy, you sighed quietly. “A hotel, not home.” 

He looked at you sympathetically as he collected his drumsticks from the table beside you and stored them in his back pocket for the time being. 

“Isn’t home anywhere where we’re all together?” He said, trying to lift your spirits. “But we’ll be home home soon enough. And I won’t be on tour again for a while, and we can be all together as much as we want.”

That did make you feel better. Even though you loved that Remus was living his dream with his best friends and giving you and Olive a great life, it did get stressful from time to time. 

Privacy violations by paparazzi and media outlets, insecurity that sometimes got the best of you on both sides of the relationship, and of course, The Marauders going on world tours that were fun, but still somewhat torture. They made it so you had to choose between leaving home for months, or being away from Remus—not that there was any difference between those two. 

You didn’t want to get emotional right when Remus had to go perform, so you smiled and reminded him that it was time for you to part ways for the evening. 

“They’re waiting for you out there.” 

A grin graced your husband’s face. “They can wait a little longer.” 

“They paid to see you.” You reminded him. 

“And I'll personally refund all of them if I don't go out.” 

“Then we'll be out of money, and we'll both have to get new jobs and we'll never have any time with just the three of us.”

Remus pretended to think over your point for a second. “You’re right. I guess I have to go out and perform, then.”

“Put on a good show, honey. We'll see you soon.” 

While saying goodbye to him, you raised Olive’s arm so you could wave at Remus for her as he walked out of the dressing room. Her face was already forming a pout when she watched her dad leave to go do his job, but you wouldn’t let that morph into anything more. 

You turned her around so you could both look at each other, then you pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek.

“None of that, sweetheart. We’ll see him again in no time.” 

Laying her down beside you on the couch, you reach down into the baby bag you never go anywhere without and pick out some of her favourite toys from their specific pocket; hopefully those will keep her distracted and happy. 

◆◇◆◇◆

The toys didn’t work as well as you thought they would. They kept Olive busy for about an hour, but she seemed to snap out of her happy baby daze out of nowhere. 

She started crying and nothing was working to calm her down. She wasn’t hungry, she didn’t need to be changed, and nothing you had brought for this very reason was working. 

You knew the only thing that could quell her upset was outside and on the stage, playing drums for a stadium of fans. But even though she and Remus both wished they could spend all hours of the day together, you just didn’t know how that could work.  

And then you remembered the headphones. 

The sound backstage hadn’t been that loud at all while The Marauders were playing, so you honestly hadn’t thought about them since you and Remus packed them before you left the hotel. 

But this could work. You could use them to help both you and Olive right now. So that’s what you did.

You dug through your bag and pulled the noise-cancelling headphones from the bottom of the bag, where they had sat untouched for the longest time. After picking them up with a tiny ‘aha’, you smiled at your daughter and told her that she would soon be seeing her dad. 

She had calmed down somewhat due to the mere mention of Remus, but she was still wailing in your arms. You bounced her lightly while you walked down the halls of the stadium. 

“It’s okay, honey.” You cooed at Olive, despite the fact that she couldn’t hear a thing. “You’re gonna tire yourself out and fall asleep before you even get to see Daddy. We don’t want that, do we?”

Although, maybe her crying herself to sleep wouldn’t be so bad. 

It still wasn’t an option in your mind. Your daughter wanted to see her dad, so over to Remus you’ll go. 

Once you got to the stage door, a burly security guard gave you a questioning look. You supposed he wasn’t used to a woman and a baby wanting to go into the wings during a rock concert. But he was just there to do his job, not judge, so he let you through when you showed him your ID. 

You kept checking Olive’s face to see her expressions and gauge if everything was too loud for her. Her look didn’t deviate from the bothered expression her face took on when you started walking with her, so you assumed the headphones were cancelling out the noise, just as they were made for. 

Nobody who was working backstage seemed to mind you being there, so you found an extra stool in a dark corner and pulled it so you could sit and watch the band. 

Based just on how Olive was moving in your arms, you knew she had spotted her dad behind the cymbals he was smashing across the stage. Pointing towards Remus, you whispered to her again even though she couldn’t hear you. “Look! Who’s that? Who’s over there?”

She seemed to be cheered up enough just from seeing Remus, so your hypothesis was proven correct. Things were shaping up to be a good night. 

You swayed and headbanged—as lightly as possible—since just because Olive couldn’t enjoy the loud music doesn’t mean you had to ignore it too. 

The current song ended, and James was talking to the crowd while Sirius drank some much-needed water after all that singing. While taking a swig, the two familiar faces in the wings of the stage caught his eye, and he just had to share what he was seeing with the drummer. 

He practically skipped over to Remus, who was also catching his breath from performing and pointed you out. Your husband’s eyes scanned the area until he found you, and his face immediately broke out into a smile—and so did your daughter’s. 

Back in the dressing room, you were hesitant if you should leave at all or if you should just wait out Olive’s tantrum, but the matching looks on your husband and daughter’s faces right now was proof that you made the right decision. 

Olive made grabby hands towards her dad across the stage, and Remus waved right back and blew a kiss in your direction. You weren’t quite sure if it was aimed at you or your little girl, but it made you blush either way. 

He pointed to the setlist taped to the ground beside him and hid his hand behind his bass drum so the audience wouldn’t see his gesture; he held up three fingers to let you know there would be three more songs until he could get up and give you two his full attention. You knew they would most definitely be doing an encore after they finished, but at least they could all have a small break after the main show.  

You nodded to show him you understood, but his attention was already grabbed back by James giving him the sign that it was time to get back into the music. Not even taking more than a second to prepare, Remus was back in the groove and started playing the next song on the list, effortlessly and perfectly. 

The last few songs of the main set were some of your favourites from the band’s discography, but you had to admit that you couldn’t enjoy them as much as you usually would. 

It was mainly because you were somewhat scared of an impending mood swing out of your daughter now that her father’s attention had left her, but also because these three songs were standing in between you and your husband like a brick wall right now. You just had to remind yourself that once they hit that last note and said their goodbyes to the crowd, that wall would be temporarily smashed once more. 

But now, they were at the end of the concert. The crowd was cheering like they just had the best night of their lives—you don’t doubt that they did—and Remus was throwing his sticks into the sea of hands desperate for a morsel of The Marauders. 

His rockstar persona was dropped the second those drumsticks left his hands, and he was rushing to the wings to be with you and Olive, a wide smile strung across his cheeks.

 He pulled you two out into the hall so the crowd’s noise could be in the background. He knew they would be cheering for an encore in a minute; as much as he loved that sound, he would rather hear you. 

“She was getting pretty fussy and I knew you were the only thing that would calm her down.” You explained to Remus before he could even ask. 

You were afraid he would be upset with you bringing her outside of the dressing room, but he didn’t seem fazed at all. He gently took Olive from your arms and cooed over her. 

“You missed me so much you dragged your mum out here so you could see me, huh?” Remus asked her. “You know I missed you too, princess. Both of you.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should get the guys to shorten the setlist so you aren’t away from us for too long, then.”

He didn’t respond, but you know that he had brought up the idea of shorter tours to the others now that he and James were both fathers. 

You watched lovingly as Remus kept moving Olive’s hand away from the glitter on his face that she was so desirous to touch. You wished you all could stay in this moment forever, but the audience’s chants for an encore were getting louder and louder and you knew the scene in front of you couldn’t last much longer. 

Right on schedule, James strutted up and tapped Remus on the shoulder with a brand new pair of drumsticks. 

“We’ve gotta go back out there, mate. Time to part ways with your girls once again.”

Remus wouldn’t put up a fight. He handed Olive back to you and blew one more kiss at you two as a goodbye.

The doors opened and a cacophony of fan cheers hit your ears. It was a lot, but it just reminded you that all those people were waiting for your husband, so you could wait a few more minutes. 

Just two final songs, then you could all go home.

[literallyjusttoa]

Apollo Music Headcanons

As a god Apollo’s singing voice can be whatever he wants it to be, but as Lester I imagine it as a strong tenor (he can’t hit a lot of low notes and it pisses him off) with a bit of a rasp in it. He sings like he’s been classically trained, but with enough confidence to bend the rules in order to get the right feelings out of the song. In one word, I’d describe Lester’s singing as raw. It’s not perfect, but the imperfections seem planned in such a way that they touch you even more than perfection would.

There are multiple languages that Apollo has learned solely so he could perform the most popular songs of the era. Italian, German, Spanish, Korean, Japanese, and a couple more throughout the years. This is also how he learned English.

He uses vocal warmups as a form of stimming. Meg wakes up some mornings and hears him going “oooOOOOooooOOOOooo” and just has to deal with it. He pulls them from all over too. Sometimes it will be professional warmups that opera singers use, and other time he’ll be whipping out “mama made me mash my m&m’s” from middle school chorus

Leto has a lullaby she used to sing to Apollo and Artemis while she was still searching for a place to safely give birth. To this day, it’s the first song Apollo plays on every new instrument he picks up.

Apollo is scarily good at impressions, even as Lester. He has so much vocal control that impersonating the sounds of others comes easily. He can also throw his voice really well.

He has songs that he connects to other people. Will’s song, Meg’s song, etc. when he’s lonely on Olympus, he listens to them on repeat.

Apollo is the god of music, not the god of good music. You could bang two trashcan lids together and have a screaming raccoon as lead vocalist and he’d probably still add it to a playlist. He unironically listens to some of the most hated songs of the last few centuries. Ironically, he’s also the worst person to pass the aux to in the car. If he really cares about you, he’ll cater the music he chooses to your taste. If not, you’re getting the whiplash of the next biggest K-pop hit followed by the liturgical chants of Hildegard von Bingen. Enjoy!

[smileysvech]

dating jeremy swayman

nsfw under the cut, minors please dni

physical touch and quality time are his top love languages, you cannot convince me otherwise

he’s always wrapping his arms around you and pulling your body into his bigger frame to engulf you in a hug

he loves a good cuddle and getting to hold you in his arms while you rest your head against his chest so you can hear his strong and steady heartbeat

he spends so much of his time out in nature, away from his phone with no distractions, so if you went on a hike with him he'd be so present and in the moment with you

jeremy talks a lot about how he wants to work his ass off to earn every opportunity he gets to play and he has that mentality in the bedroom too… he will work to please you and do everything he can to earn the reward of making you cum

part of being a goalie is having intense focus and being dialed in so he would be incredibly focused on how your body responds to his touch and his voice and he’s able to read your body so well and knows just how to make you completely fall apart

he’s so patient and usually isn’t in a rush and likes to take his time with you and prefers slow and sensual yet passionate sex over a quick rough fuck (though he’s not entirely opposed to it)

but he will ALWAYS perform some good aftercare for you

he's so attentive when he's leaving soft kisses all over your skin as he cleans you up, checking in on you "you okay there, pretty girl?" and murmuring "you did so well, love you so much", massaging any part of your body that might be sore

he also plays guitar so we know he’s skilled with his hands

his fingers are probably calloused and a little rough but it feels amazing when he rubs them against your clit or when he finally slides them into your wet and waiting pussy

he’s got a praise kink (hello?? telling ully “I’m coming handsome!” and the “fuck she’s a good girl” clip that lives in my head rent free like he’s not afraid to give out compliments and loves to worship you!!!!!!!)

he’s often described as one of the most vocal goalies so he’s gotta be just as vocal in bed

he will let you know how good you make him feel with his deep moans and groans and breathy curses when your lips are wrapped around his cock or your pussy is fluttering and squeezing him

“fuck, that’s it. right there. feels so good. such a good girl for me.”

“keep doing that, baby.”

also BITING KINK

y’all seen the way he bites his jersey???

I just KNOW he would love biting and marking you up

maybe it starts off as just soft, slow kisses but soon the two of you have moved to the couch and you’re perched on his big lap straddling him while making out

one of his big hands has found its way into your hair at the base of your neck and with an ever so gentle tug he signals for you to lean your head back so he can detach his lips from yours and trail kisses from your shoulder to your collar bone and up your neck and jaw

he lets his teeth sink into your flesh and you wince a little bit at the stinging sensation but he quickly eases any of your discomfort when he runs his tongue along the mark he left on you

god he would love leaving bite marks and hickeys all over your neck and breasts

he would be so smug about it too, just leaning back and admiring his work with a little cocky smirk when you run your fingers over the marks he left you when you assess the damage in your bathroom mirror later

you roll your eyes at him, but truthfully you love it too because it’s a reminder that he wants you and you’re his girl

and how can we not discuss his confidence and cockiness?

the way he is always smirking and winking during warmups

AND HIS MANSPREADING

the man knows he's packing

I have it in my head that he loves when you sit on his lap and wrap your arms around him to keep your balance

and he LOVES when you ride him

he enjoys seeing the pleasure on your face as you take what you need from him, doing whatever it takes to get yourself off on him

and after he's sure you've had at least one orgasm, he'd take control and thrust his hips up and drive his cock into you deeper and deeper, finding your most sensitive spots to bring you to another earth-shattering orgasm

tagging a few of my fellow sway girlies: @pyotrkochetkov @senditcolton @barzysunflower @cellythefloshie

[carryonafi]

hi my sweet baby angel— been thinkin about fonda!luke a lot recently… was wondering if you could write a little cute/smutty ‘i’m so fuckin proud of you’ blurb that takes place after his ono? do whatever you want with it, i know you’ll do great bby <3

only the brave.

luke hemmings x reader; SMUT!!!🔞

a/n: HELLO finally getting to some requests! starting with one from my dear souperbloom 😋 she’s already gotten a few little snippets but shh we don’t talk about that. ANYWAY here’s only the brave featuring fonda night 1 lukey pookie :3

words: 2.6k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Luke was always in his element when he performed, but it was always surrounded by the others that he shone. Knowing him, you would have never thought he could have done this on his own. Not that you didn’t have the faith, but it was how often he spoke about feeling alone when he wasn’t standing by his best friends.You were currently standing backstage with him, in the dressing room before his first ever solo show with a full house of guests and the next night hopefully bound to be a wonderful repeat due to the unexpected high demand of the first night.

“How do you feel?” You said softly, the room silent other than the outside noises of the crew moving around the pre-show playlist in the background.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Luke sighed, tipping his head back against the door, he did look sort of pale, but he usually seemed that way.

The look on his face softened a bit once you reached out to take his hands.

“You’ll be okay… do your vocal warmups. That helps doesn’t it?” A weak suggestion, but it was a thoughtful attempt that made Luke crack a smile.

“I dunno.” He admitted, his expression turning back to normal once he really started to think again. You could understand how he felt, knowing him for years and seeing how much stage anxiety he went through even with the others around.

“They’re gonna be watching too, y’know? All you have to do is look up at the balcony.” As much as you tried to make him feel better, you knew that nothing would truly ease him. The thought of looking up to see you and his best friends made him feel a little bit better for the moment, that was until a crew member shouted for call time. Luke’s face dropped again.

“You’re going to be amazing, okay? You always are.” You offered a weak smile, getting one back as Luke leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

He looked like he was about to say something in reply, but instead, he bit his tongue and took the encouragement instead of plaguing it with his doubts. “Thank you.” He said gratefully, leading you out of the dressing room and parting ways once he got to the wings and you left to join the crowd.

The lights went down and the last song on the playlist ended, you took a deep breath suddenly feeling anxious for Luke now as well — but as you said. He was always amazing.

Security walked you up to the balcony, a few stray fans at the back of the general admission floor whispered to themselves and happily waved as you walked by and made your way up to where the others were standing. Michael turned around as he felt your presence join them, giving you a look through the darkness.

“He’s okay?” He asked, seemingly responding to the anxiety taking over your entire expression.

“He should be, just nervous to be up there without you guys.” You gave him the simplest answer possible, knowing how it described the last hour or so of sitting in the dressing room and trying to talk Luke down from walking straight back out to the car… or throwing up. He was very close to both of those scenarios.

—

Just as you told him, all of that encouragement and gentle words to get his hopes up, he played a really good show and seemed to be feeling incredible by the end of it. You left the rest of Luke’s friends just at the end of the last song so you could meet him backstage, and it was the best decision you could’ve made. It was obvious that he needed to see you after that.

He picked up his head once he tossed his last pick into the crowd and headed backstage, a smile gracing his features illuminated by the few and far bright lights in the otherwise dark venue. It was too hard to resist the temptation to smile as well, rushing forward and throwing yourself into his arms.

“See, you did amazing!” You squealed happily against his shoulder, Luke’s heart was racing and you could feel it relax significantly as you stood there and held him for a moment. He breathed out a long sigh of relief, nearly tearing his in-ears out with one hand while the other snaked around your waist to hold you tight. He needed this. He needed nothing more than your arms enveloping his physical worries and making him feel like he just won the Olympics.

“Thank you… Thank you so much.” Luke whispered against your hair, pressing repeated kisses to the side of your head and not stopping even when you tilted your head to look at him. Instead he just went with it, kissing your face until he finally reached your lips. He teased a little, kissing the corner of your mouth which had you giggling and grabbing his cheeks so he couldn’t move. You planted an aggressively loving kiss to his lips, the sensation of his growing smile making it hard to hold it.

“I’m very proud of you, so fuckin’ proud of you, Luke.” You replied in that same tone he used earlier, a wider grin spreading across Luke’s face as he started to walk you backwards towards the dressing room again.

“Don’t think I could’ve done it without you.” He muttered like it was a secret, quickly pecking your lips once more with his hands splayed out on your back so you didn’t walk into anything.

“Bullshit.” You scrunched up your nose, Luke shook his head then turned you around.

“No, no. I definitely couldn’t have.” He played back despite your protest, leading you into the small room and closing the door.

You sat on one side of the small sofa while Luke shed himself of his gear and slipped off his suit jacket which left him in the matching brown vest, your eyes roamed, scanned each little part of his body. His wrists shoulder blades flexing as he tried to rid the exhaustion of performing which was mostly masked by adrenaline. Luke saw you in the mirror, smiling back at you as a simple wave of your hand gestured for him to come closer. He didn’t let a beat go by, he obeyed and slowly approached you.

“Wanna go back home, or sit and decompress for a while?” You asked, placing your legs in his lap and playing with his sweaty curls.

“Mm, decompress. Don’t wanna move.” He hummed, an arm curling under your thighs and pulling you closer to him. Even past the warmth and exertion, he needed to feel you. Your warmth.

The dressing room was quiet, peaceful as Luke came down and basked in his glory of a first solo performance. Usually, there would be some sort of music playing, 3 other guys messing around and celebrating yet another amazing night… but it was just Luke. You and Luke.

“I’m proud of you.” You repeated, catching Luke’s attention away from the loose thread in your outfit. His lips quirked into a crooked smile, the smile that made the high points of his cheeks glow with joy. He thought for a moment before nodding, gently squeezing your thigh.

“I’m proud of me, too.” Luke agreed, the glitter smeared across his eyelids had managed to spread on his face. You reached forward to brush some away, but he took this opportunity to catch your waiting lips in another soft kiss.

Your hand moved slowly on his cheek, fingertips catching the underside of his jaw and keeping him close for just a fleeting second more. Until your lips broke apart, it wasn’t known who did it, but all you knew was that Luke was leaning in for more. His lips were forced against yours again with much more, newfound fervor as his free arm hooked around your middle.

It was nearly silent from there on, just gentle kissing and featherlight touches which spoke more volume than any rough make out session, any bedroom session — the adrenaline pumping through Luke’s veins and the events of the night had him on a high.

“C’mere…” He murmured against your kiss-swollen lips, a pout on his own as he hoisted you into his lap and nearly forced you to straddle him.

“Really?” You teased, letting out a breathy laugh as Luke licked his lips and admired his own hands exploring your body. Slipping into the waistband of your bottoms and watching the goosebumps form on your skin at his warmth.

“We’ve never done this after a show before, please?” He pleaded, looking up at you through mascara coated eyelashes which pushed you to give into him.

“As long as you can make it quick.” You hushed in response, just as Luke’s hands disappeared under your skirt and delicately brushed the soft skin of your inner thighs. He nodded, slowly taking his hands off of you to unbutton those annoying, high waisted slacks that he had really been obsessed with. They were hard to shuffle down with you in his lap, so you decided to help him out by lifting your hips a little.

“Made it easy by wearing that..” Luke gave as an affectionate note, making it clear that the skirt was a good option— a great option.

“Easy access?” You grinned, his pupils dilating at the sight of your underwear slowly slipping down your legs and leaving the underneath to his imagination beneath the skirt, Luke hummed in agreement, his hands returning to spread themselves across your hips and bring you even closer. It was barely possible.

“You’re annoying.” He whispered, his eyes turning soft and desperate as your hips came into contact.

“What? How so?” You gasped, tone full of mirth as you witnessed Luke slowly losing control over being so close to you. Every single time, without fail he was always going to get to that breaking point of desperation and you loved it.

“You jus’ have to look so pretty all the time, it’s annoying — I gotta hold it all in.” Luke replied, moving forward to bury his face in your neck and leave needy, wet kisses on your skin. “Have t’ share you with everyone… they all look at you, baby.” He rambled into your neck, lips and tongue dragging over your skin in a soft haste to get to his favorite parts of you. Luke ended his trail of destruction with one gentle kiss to your chest, right above the center where he rested his curly little head in defeat. Defeat of falling victim to you.

“Don’t have to share me with anyone, silly boy.” You laughed, hands carding through his hair and massaging his dark roots. “I’m all yours.” You said gently, careful of Luke’s fragile mind where he often struggled.

However, you were caught off guard by the switch he took. Luke peeked his head up, pushing up into your hands like he was a puppy desperate for love, but slipped himself inside you in one flawless motion. It left you breathless, Luke beaming with satisfaction as you took him.

“All mine?” He breathed, ring-clad fingers tightening on your hips and indenting the flesh beneath his hands. All that came out of you was a weak sigh of pleasure, coaxing you to sink down further and devour inch by inch. Luke was waiting for an answer, so you nodded and hummed appreciatively which seemed to be more than enough for him. His hips slowly started to move, leaning back against the couch to watch the obscenity before him. Anyone could walk into this dressing room, anyone could see you perched on his lap and know within seconds what was going on under the fluff of your skirt. Just the sounds you were making with each caring and generous roll of his hips had him imagining the scenarios of someone hearing you. It was a low chance, but hell, was it daunting.

“So.. So goddamn proud.” You looked down at Luke, admiring how he had reached and let one button on his vest go to expose more of his chest.

“Uh huh, you’re proud?” He raised his eyebrows, the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing picked up driving you both just a little more crazy for each other.

The simplicity of your nod made Luke smile, knowing that he had taken your words away and left you so focused on the rhythm he had pumping in and out of you. But he was close too, losing control but not nearly as weak as you.

“Luke!” You gasped when his pace changed, he was now focused on chasing his own pleasure once he was secure in the fact that you would be finishing before him. This made it all come crashing down, little pulses and shocks through your nerves, thighs twitching as you clamped down hard and bit your knuckles to keep yourself quiet.

“Hey…” Luke breathed, taking your hand away from your mouth as your orgasm smoothly washed over you. “Don’t hurt my girl.” He gave you a crooked half-smile, his hips stuttering which told that he was there. Right there, letting out that deep groan and leaning forward to press his face against your collarbone as he pumped deep inside you, His curls tickled your neck, slicked with sweat from the activities within the humid dressing room.

It was about two minutes until you each didn’t feel like jello anymore, you felt a smile of post-orgasm bliss creeping up on you which turned into giggles.

“Fuckin’ love you so much.” You sighed dreamily, tangling a hand in Luke’s hair and gently coaxing him to look up at you. The glitter from his eyes was now on your neck, and somehow his nose— you examined his flushed face with care and graced a loving peck to his nose.

“Love you more.” Luke barely managed past his own smile, waiting a few more moments to spare the gentle touches and soft kisses from you. It felt like so long until he could finally get you home… but home was just half an hour away, more of those kisses in a much better environment were waiting for him. “This was a really great reward,” he mumbled, shy like some schoolboy.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, mindlessly fixing the buttons of his vest and watching as he returned to picking at some loose thread on your top. Luke nodded, giving you the loving eyes shielded by his impressively long eyelashes. “Imagine what kind of reward you’ll get when you finish a solo tour.”

“I can’t even begin.” Luke grinned back, hoisting you up from the couch once you were all situated and ready to face as many people as you possibly needed to. Hopefully not a lot, if Luke was counting right. Security, staff, driver…

“There’s fans waiting out back, wanna go see them?” You suggested, grasping Luke’s hand as you headed out of the venue and strides hastily through the backstage halls. You knew what Luke’s answer was going to be, the hesitance to go back and show his fans some appreciation would be the nice thing to do. However, tomorrow was another show. They could wait and have some hope for him until the next night.

“Nah, just wanna go home.” He admitted, blinking down at you in the dim light to adjust and focus clearly on your face. You were now also covered in his glitter, and it was truly a sight for him. One that he would be sad to wash off at home, but maybe there was more in it for him if he was extra gentle with your cleanser.

[foursaints]

olympics au……olympics au………oh lordy……..your brain is.so big. soo big……barty crouch jr…….figure skater……oh golly gee……

reese I'm thinking BIG thoughts about olympics AU!rosekiller

I entreat you to picture an evan rosier who has gotten adequate nutrition & exercise since childhood. his twin sister is a skating prodigy so naturally he’s put into ice sports too. they are both relatively Big Deals but she overshadows him.

as a hockey player evan is super quiet & has the deadest, calmest eyes & his pretty blonde curls get all sweaty under the helmet & he has RAGING ANGER ISSUES

but they only come out on the ice. he's 5'10 (small for hockey) and still racks up SO many penalties and always has this air of really solemn, focused concentration. no fun allowed.

i think figure skater barty somehow manages to unlock evan's anger issues and from that moment onward barty is like I Need That Strange Boy Bouncing And Moaning On It

but barty's like? so crazy about it? he treats it as a joke but barty publicly brings evan up at every given opportunity it's FOUL. he’s at an unrelated interview about his warmup routine and he’s grabbing the mic like “have you guys heard of evan rosier? blonde? famous twin sister? hockey? #13? left winger?” 

and barty expects this to annoy evan as it becomes more of a Thing. but instead notoriously stoic evan rosier??? leans into it???? just to fuck with him???

"barty crouch jr is my best friend," evan deadpans into the mic, when the CNN reporter asks why that random figure skater won't shut up about him.

and then barty has to get up there at every interview and spout all sorts of adorable bullshit anecdotes about how they bonded as children. this stranger. he accidentally played himself.

and they don't even TALK or SEE EACH OTHER but they're both very public and vocal about their deep, abiding best-friendship that doesn’t actually exist. they're actually quite combative about their fake-friendliness, somehow?

and this would all have just been a harmless running inside joke, probably, if they weren't both independently but mutually caught in the orbit of Lily Evans??? like they keep bumping into each other in her hotel room and making the most charged eye contact of all time?? ???

[blacktobackmesa]

Chatty - A Streamman Mini-Fic (Part 1/?)

Generally speaking, Gordon’s friends had learned to look past the non-vocal noises that occasionally leaked through the cosmic veil through Gordon’s mouth. 

Everyone in the group had their own quirks, really. Just as Gordon had learned not to ask too many questions about some of the Science Team’s habits, so too had his friends come to understand what it meant when his lips parted and he involuntarily did a spot-on impression of an A/C unit or a passing fire engine. There was only so much that he could do about his microphone sensitivity, so the occasional extra noise was just a fact of life. 

The first few times it had happened, Gordon was just embarrassed to break the immersion of hanging out with his friends-- nobody wants constant reminders that the guy inviting you out to Game Night is a flesh puppet being controlled by someone who holds your reality on his desk. 

Thankfully, if there was one perk to having hyper-adaptive AIs as friends, it was that the nature of their existence made them adept at the principles of improv theatre. 

“My, that is a nasty case of the hiccups you have there!” Coomer had once told him over a game of Uno. 

“Hiccups? I don’t know if I-- eep!”

Bubby nodded. “Mm-hm, mm-hm. You know, I’ve heard that with hiccups like that, the best cure is changing the damn batteries in your smoke alarm.”

The message took a moment for Gordon to fully process. “Oh. Oh, those hiccups!”

“It was either that or drinking a glass of water while humming. You know how those hiccup cures can be,” Bubby continued. 

“I’d better do that,” Gordon said, quickly standing up from his chair. “I’ll be right back. Gotta drink some water or someth--eep! Low. Battery.”

Coomer looked at his partner as Gordon excused himself to take off his headset just out of view.

Bubby smirked. “Gordon has such a way with words, doesn’t he?”

Coomer nodded. “Low Battery. I believe I said something similar to you on our last anniversary!”

“I’d told you to charge your colon before we left the house.”

“I didn’t need to charge it when we left the house.”

It became a sort of part-joke, part-game, and part-grand-law-of-the-universe. When something unexpected came out of Gordon’s mouth, whoever was with him would create an “in-universe” explanation for the sound. Something fell off his desk and made a noise as it landed? Gordon must have been stretching his spine and something popped, always satisfying. Sirens outside? Now’s not the time to do vocal warmups, Gordon, but your range is impeccable. There’s a giggling little boy sitting on his dad’s lap? Gordon has become a spirit medium, and his body is being taken over by the ghostly being known as Great and Powerful Josh (who was very, very fond of this game). 

It was all in good fun, of course. The game only worked if everyone was onboard, and Gordon very rarely had a reason to put his foot down and stop the gag.

Perhaps too rarely.

In the lower corner of his Twitch layout, the kitty ears on Gordon’s digital head perked at attention.

“For those of you just joining us, here’s what you need to know. Meatspace-- MYAA! Meatspace Gordon, the Gordon out in meatspace, is looking MAOW. after a little friend this week. But Digital Gordon?” He took a breath in, trying to tamp down on a laugh as another meow passed from his family’s cat through his avatar’s lips. “Digital Gordon has learned an important lesson about teleporter accidents.”

[doomhands-jr]

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 4

Noah Sebastian X Reader

Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Warnings: Blow job, drug use, swearing, angst, noah getting humbled

Masterlist

Banner by @flowerynerds

________

“Fuck,” Noah whispered. “Just like that.”

Noah couldn’t remember who was sucking his dick. He could barely remember how he got upstairs. He thought her name might begin with an S? Maybe? But her mouth was so warm and inviting. And wet. And when she hummed, it vibrated.

His head lolled to the side. Had the couch always been this soft?

She pulled off him with a “pop” and stroked his shaft a few times.

“Mmmm,” he hummed, letting out a soft giggle and allowing his lids to close.

He’d have to ask Jolly what that pill was. He wanted to feel like this all the time.

“You like that?” the girl asked. What the fuck was her name? Sarah? No… Savannah? Something like that. She looked up at him and he didn’t think he’d ever seen a face more vibrant or beautiful than hers.

Except for maybe yours. But he didn’t want to think about that, because it was bringing down his vibe, and he had someone right in front of him who was so, so beautiful, and whose mouth was the warmest mouth he’d ever felt in his life.

“Yeah,” he said, marveling at the tingling sensation in his fingertips as he rubbed them together, paying special attention to the calluses on his fingers. She squeezed his dick again and his focus was brought back to her. “Do it again please?”

She enveloped the head of his dick in her mouth once more. He didn’t think she could get a tighter seal around him. His eyes rolled back. Noah was certain if she kept up at this rate, she’d rid him of whatever negative energy dwelled in his body, and he’d walk away an enlightened man.

“You’re so fuckin’ warm,” he muttered, noticing for the first time that his own voice carried many layers to it. He hummed out a note, feeling his vocal folds vibrate with such a pleasant intensity that he forgot all about the woman whose mouth he was currently in and began practicing his vocal warmups. He could hear his voice getting better in real time.

“They’re right,” he giggled between warmups.. “I should do my vocal exercises more. These are great.”

The woman said something that Noah didn’t catch, but his awareness was once again brought to his dick, and this time, his focus was locked in. All the sudden, he was on a sensation train that was approaching its crescendo. When it did, Noah’s body blasted into a liminal space, where he was met with a wave of warm, glowing light.

Was he crying? He thought he might have been crying, but he didn’t know what about. Surely it was nothing sad, because no sadness could exist here. He was wrapped in pure love and light.

“It’s like heaven,” he slurred.

And then his body slipped away and he was nothing more than divine consciousness, floating in the ether.

_____________

“Noah!”

Someone was shooting off fireworks in the hallway.

No, that wouldn’t make sense.

Someone was knocking on the door. His eyelids were too heavy for him to lift.

“Noah, wake up, man.”

He vaguely registered the sound of the door opening. “Aw, gross! Get your pasty ass off Jolly’s couch.”

Noah groaned, feeling for the waistband of his boxers, realizing they were still pulled down around his ankles.

“What happened?” he rasped out. His throat was beyond dry. His head pounded with every pulse.

“You tell me. Last thing I remember is you disappearing with that Tiffany chick.”

Noah’s eyes flew open. “Tiffany?” He scrubbed a palm over his face. That girl had been after him for months. Showed up to every party and clung to him like a barnacle on the side of a boat. Always interjected herself into conversations and has cockblocked him on more than one occasion. Despite actively ignoring her when she’s around, she never took the hint to leave him alone.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Why did you let me go upstairs with her?” he asked, finally looking up to see Ruffilo standing above him with his hands on his hips, looking very much like a disappointed mother.

“It’s not my job to babysit you, dude. Plus, you insisted it was fine.”

Noah rolled over and clenched his throat to stop himself from hurling.

“How much did I drink?” he rasped out.

“I don’t know. But whatever you took clearly didn’t mix well with it.”

“No shit,” he said, rolling off the couch. His knees smacked against the hardwood floor, the impact ricocheting up to his head, forcing him into a wince.

“Can you please put some pants on?” his friend said, rolling his eyes as he turned his back toward Noah.

With great effort, Noah hoisted himself off the floor and into a semi-standing position so he could pull his boxers and jeans back up.

“My eyes are killing me,” he croaked.

“Yeah, no shit dude. You still have those weird-ass things in.”

Noah stumbled across the hall to the bathroom, the acrid feeling of bile crawled its way up his chest, intensifying the closer he got. He threw the toilet lid and seat back, knees hitting tile as he curled over the lip of the bowl to vomit the remainder of last night’s drinks. 

His head pounded, every heave forcing blood up into his face, the vessels in his eyes straining under the pressure.

“Help me get these out,” he sputtered between heaving breaths, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He rolled over to lean his back against the vanity unit, hands falling into his lap as he worked to catch his breath.

“Let me see,” Ruffilo sighed cupping his chin with one hand to tilt it back into the light. He took care to wash his hands before he made any attempt to touch the massive black contacts that spanned the entirety of his friend’s eyes.

“Ow, fuck!” Noah shouted, causing his head to ache with his own volume. “Don’t use your nail, asshole!”

“Sorry dude,” his friend said, not an ounce of sympathy in his tone. “This shit’s hard to do. Hold still.”

With careful precision, Nick maneuvered the large disc around until he found purchase on it.  Pinching it between his thumb and forefinger,  he gently peeled  it out to reveal Noah’s bloodshot eyes.. After doing the same with the second, he tossed both in the trash, then stood to wash his hands once more. “Damn,” said Noah. “I liked those. I wanted to use them for more shows.”

“We’ll get you new ones,” said Nick. He grabbed an empty Solo cup on the sink counter, rinsing it out before filling it with cool tap water. He handed it to Noah before lowering himself to the ground, sighing as he leaned against the opposite wall. “Sip slowly, or you’ll throw up again.” Gingerly, Noah raised the cup to his lips.

Ruffilo was not easily affected by the actions of others. In fact, he had a calming disposition that set many at ease. But at that moment, Noah could feel his friend’s gaze burning a hole into him. He stared at the rim of his cup, the acrid feeling returning as he did everything to avoid looking at Nick.

“You okay, man?” The pity in his friend’s tone sat like a brick in Noah’s gut.“I’ve never seen you get that fucked up before. What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can’t be doing that shit,” Nick said, crossing his arms over his chest and clicking his tongue against his teeth.. “Do you even know what you took?”

Noah paused for a moment. Scenes from the previous night flashed through his memory: the red lump on your cheekbone, the slight gasp that left your lungs when he parted your legs, the absence of your warmth after you left.

“No,” Noah rasped out, leaning his head back against the counter and closing his eyes.

“That’s not like you, man.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on,” he sighed, grabbing Noah under the arm to lift him off the floor. “Let’s get you home and in bed.”

“Thanks,” said Noah. He brought his hand up to comb his fingers through his hair and found the demon horns still on his head. A bitter taste coated his tongue and he ripped them off, chucking them in the trash.

It took a monumental effort for Noah to stagger the six blocks to his house. The sun was far too bright and the traffic was much too loud. Even with Ruffilo helping him, he struggled to keep his balance and had to pause halfway through to vomit into a set of bushes lining the street.

He didn't know when he fell asleep. One moment, he was collapsing onto his bed, and the next, he woke to the sound of something hitting his nightstand. On a tray sat a mug of coffee, scrambled eggs and toast, with two painkillers on a napkin. Ruffilo was already on his way out the door when Noah spoke.

“Thanks man,” He managed to mutter. “I owe you one.”

“This is done on the condition that we talk about it when you’re ready.”

Noah sighed, jaw clenching. “I know. Just not today.”

________

Halfway through Noah’s day-long hangover nap, he was woken up by another knocking. This time, when he opened his eyes, he found none other than the drummer of his band looking like the cat that caught the canary.

Nick sidled past him, inviting himself into Noah’s room, tossing a wad of cash down onto Noah’s bed before turning to face him.

“Here you go, killer. You earned it.”

“What are you talking about?” Noah muttered, consciousness slowly growing clearer as he struggled to wake up. His head felt like it was in a vise.

“I saw you and the virgin Mary go into your studio last night. When she came back out, she looked absolutely wrecked,” he said, snickering to himself. He shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know how you did it, but damn. I never thought that chick would put out. Her friend was a pretty good consolation prize though, I have to say.”

Noah grabbed the wad of cash and threw it violently back at his friend.

“Whoa,” Nick said, head pulling back defensively. “What was that for?”

“Man, fuck off. I told you I wasn’t part of that.”

“You still won,” said Nick with a shrug. “I’m a man of my word. Should have tried a little harder with her last night, but her friend was practically beggin’ for it the whole time.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Noah was aware that he should exit this conversation. But in the moment, his stomach rolled with a heavy mixture of shame and anger that he couldn’t digest, so he spat it at Nick.

“You’re a fucking bottom feeder, man.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Nick bit back, unflinching as if he’d been waiting. “Don’t sit there on your high fuckin’ horse, acting like you’re better than everyone when you did the same thing to Tiffany, knowing how down bad she is for you. Grow a spine and reject the girl so she can move on.” 

Noah squeezed his eyes together and rubbed his temples.

He knew he’d run out of defenses, and hated that Nick was right, but his brain had only just started thawing out from the onslaught of chemicals he’d fed it, and the last thing he needed was a lecture.

“Man, just get out. I’m not in the mood, okay?”

“Clearly, since you’re fucking being a little bitch today.” His eyebrows and jaw were hard set, but when Noah finally locked on to his stare, Nick must have seen the defeat in his eyes, because he began to soften.

“Get some sleep, man. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Thanks.”

__________________

Normally, Noah didn’t mind his job at the factory too much. It was repetitive, which was boring, but also regulating. It allowed him to move on autopilot while he wrote music in his head.

Today though, as the remnants of his headache clung to his periphery - he was Sisyphus, and the lathe was his boulder.

Worse though, whatever he had taken at the party had dumped all the serotonin and dopamine from his system, and there was nothing left to get him through the day.

“This,” he muttered to himself, barely audible over the whirring of the machines surrounding him, “this is why I don’t do drugs.”

He’d known this would happen even before he took them, but at the time he didn’t care. He was focused on escaping from the reality of his situation. It worked for the night, until that reality came back with a vengeance.

His confidence was shaken. He’d been so sure that you wanted him in that moment. He’d have bet all the cash Nick had tried to throw at him that you wanted him. But when you were an inch away, just barely in his grasp, you shot him down and left. And here he was, tearing his hair out because he could not, for the life of him, figure out why.

Maybe you just couldn't accept his feelings about religion. Your beliefs were so important to you, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it was something you just couldn’t get past. Like you’d mentioned earlier that night, the whole evening was out of your comfort zone, you were overwhelmed by it all. Perhaps you just weren’t ready.

But maybe he was overthinking everything. Maybe inviting you into his world was a bad decision.

No God. No religion. 

Just bad, bad decisions. 

He scrawled the words into the margins of  the notebook used to write down measurements for whatever the fuck parts he had to check for inaccuracies. For the rest of the day, the words ran through his head over and over again like a mantra, following the rhythmic clunk of the factory machines. He fished the silver ring out of his pocket and fidgeted with it for the hundredth time since you left the studio. It barely fit past the first knuckle on his pinky finger, but every time he touched it, it felt a little easier to breathe.

______________

“So, I feel like I owe you an apology,” he said, taking a sip from his coffee. “Several apologies, actually.”

“Okay,” Tiffany said, sitting across from him at the small bistro table in the corner of the local coffee shop Noah frequented.

His stomach clenched. He’d been nervous for the last few days leading up to this conversation, but it was time for him to stop being a coward and settle the matter.

Tiffany was not an unattractive woman. She had long blonde hair that she wore in loose waves. She was on the thicker side, which Noah liked. He could see himself being attracted to her if their personalities meshed.

Tiffany’s fatal flaw was that she tried too hard. Noah preferred to do the chasing. And he probably wouldn’t have ended up chasing after her regardless, and so he understood that she felt the need to chase after him if she liked him, but he had no inkling of feelings for her.

“First, I wanted to apologize for last Saturday. I wasn’t in the best state of mind, and I shouldn’t have invited you upstairs.”

“Yeah,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her. “That became clear when you started doing vocal warmups mid-blowjob.”

Noah snorted into his coffee. He forgot about that.

“I’m sorry,” he said, unable to bite back his grin.

Her tough façade cracked into a smile. “No worries. In hindsight, it’s pretty funny.”

“Okay, so question then,” He shifted in his seat, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table. “If you knew I wasn’t sober, why did you continue?”

“I didn’t,” she said. “As soon as I realized you weren’t right, I stopped.”

Noah looked at her, taken aback. “You left?”

She nodded.

“You mean I didn’t…I could have swore…,” he trailed off.

“Don’t get me wrong. I was excited about the idea of hooking up with you, but not like that.”

Noah looked at Tiffany with a newfound respect. Perhaps he had misjudged her.

“Secondly,” he continued, “I wanted to apologize for never making my intentions clear. I feel like I led you on and allowed you to have hope because I was afraid of confrontation. That wasn’t cool of me. I should have told you from the beginning that I wasn’t interested.”

“Ouch,” she said, wincing slightly, “but thanks.”

He shook his head. “Why are you thanking me?”

“I don’t know,” she said, drumming her fingers on the table.. “You probably don’t deserve it, but honestly I’d rather you be straightforward with me so I can actually move on. It takes a lot of energy to walk away from something you want if you still think there might be a little hope. I probably would have wasted a lot of time.”

His stomach began to feel the weight of his actions. Tiffany’s only crime was not deciphering the vague signals he’d given her, and yet he’d treated her like a pariah, going so far as to badmouth her to his bandmates. And for what? Because she refused to give up hope until she received a solid answer?

He’d been an even bigger asshole than he’d realized.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

Tiffany looked at Noah with a face that hinted at pity. Perhaps she saw the inner battle he was having with himself.

“Why did you take me upstairs?” she asked.

Noah felt like he owed her the truth. He didn’t have romantic feelings for Tiffany, but he did like her. And there was something about her that made him want to trust her. Perhaps it was how she’d prioritized his consent, despite her feelings for him. Or maybe the way she’d responded to him when he told her he wasn’t interested took the edge off his nervous system. He didn’t realize how much he enjoyed that feeling.

Noah launched into the story, telling Tiffany about how you’d met, your differences in beliefs, how you’d wound up at that party, what happened during the set, and how it had played out in the studio afterwards.

Once he finished his retelling, Tiffany narrowed her eyes at him.

“Do you always react so poorly when you get rejected?”

“What do you mean?” asked Noah.

“Like, after a girl rejects you, do you binge drink and take unknown drugs and hook up with other people? Is that how you handle it every time?”

Noah shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Wait. Is this your first time being rejected?” she asked in disbelief.

He took another sip of his coffee, ran his tongue along the top row of his teeth, and then gave the tiniest of nods.

Without hesitation, Tiffany burst out laughing.

“I’m so sorry,” she rushed to clarify, holding her hands in front of her as if to pause the conversation. “This is so inappropriate and I shouldn’t be laughing. Forgive me.”

She didn’t stop laughing despite her apology.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll wait,” Noah said, snark creeping into his voice.

“This feels really great to hear, honestly. I know it sucks for you, but I’m absolutely loving it.”

“Can you not rub it in my face, please?” he asked.

Tiffany did her best to calm her laughter and then smiled genuinely across the table at him.

“Noah, being rejected is not the worst thing that can happen. Trust me. I’ve been rejected many times. It builds character and toughens you up. Plus, I think your ego could use it. You’re totally full of yourself.”

“How so?” he said.

“Oh, I don’t know. Didn’t you say you were going to fight god a few weekends ago during your set?”

Noah chewed on his lip. “That was performative.”

“It comes from somewhere.”

“Not necessarily true.”

“Noah, come on,” she said, fixing him with an imploring stare. “Be for real right now. You got rejected one time and you completely lost your shit. Total self-sabotage. Do you know how many girls you’ve rejected? A lot. And we pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and keep fighting the good fight, because shit happens.”

Noah, mid-humbling, stayed quiet and let her continue. As uncomfortable as it was to acknowledge his shortcomings, it was also refreshing to hear. He’d never experienced a lecture from a loving mother, but he imagined this was what it felt like.

“Plus,” Tiffany continued, “it sounds like she didn’t even reject you. She just wasn’t ready to fuck you in that moment. And why would she? Considering how you’d treated her.”

“How did I treat her?” he asked. He thought he’d been kind. Certainly more attentive than he’d been to other women in his life.

“I mean, do you even like her?”

“Of course!”

“Really? Because it doesn’t sound like it. You sent her into a mosh pit totally unprepared and let her get hit in the face.”

Noah winced. He did do that. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to mention it to you.

“You didn’t warn her about the content of your music and allowed yourself to get peer-pressured into playing a song that deliberately shits on everything important to her,” she continued. “And what? You’re surprised she doesn’t want to give up her virginity after a month of knowing you?”

Noah had to sit back after what felt like a massive blow to the center of his chest.

“I put more effort in with her than I have with anyone else,” he said, feebly trying to defend himself, though he knew he had no defense to stand on.

“Are you honestly telling me that was the best you could do?”

Noah didn’t answer, reluctant to say the words out loud, and Tiffany sighed. 

“Look. If you really like the girl, go earn her.”

Noah fidgeted with the sleeve on the paper to-go cup. The concept of earning someone’s affection was new to him. He’d always been on the receiving end.

“How do I do that?”

Tiffany blinked back at him. “I mean, it’s not really my job to figure that out for you. I’m already giving you more emotional labor than I owe. But if you’re asking me, I’d start by figuring out why her faith is so important to her, rather than focusing on how you can get her to abandon it so you can sleep with her.”

“Ouch. I mean you’re right, but do you have to be so mean about it?”

“Trust me Noah, I’m doing you a kindness.”

He exhaled heavily through his nostrils, realizing that the magic pill to fix his problems was indeed, the toughest to swallow.

“Thank you,” he said, meeting her eyes again. “I appreciate you saying this to me.”

Tiffany nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“Can we be friends?” he asked. He meant it. Tiffany was clearly a positive influence in his life, and even if he didn’t want to be with her romantically, he still wanted her around in some way.

“No,” she said flatly. Noah’s face fell. “At least… not right now. This conversation helped, but I still need to lick my wounds. It isn’t fun being rejected, after all.”

“You can say that again,” he said.

“We can be friendly, though. I’ll still come to your shows because despite all your shortcomings, I unfortunately like your music.”

He chuckled, finding Tiffany’s candor refreshing. “You’re really enjoying the opportunity to insult me, aren’t you?”

“I really am,” she said, grinning from ear to ear. He saw a glimpse of the beauty he’d been so focused on in his drug-induced state. She truly was prettier than he’d given her credit for.

“I hope you find someone better than me,” he said. “I want you to be happy. You deserve a good guy.”

“Thank you,” she said, softer than before and he could tell she believed him.

Noah paid for both their coffees. It was the least he could do. They parted with a warm handshake that Noah had the urge to turn into a hug, but he could tell from her body language she wouldn’t want it.

For the first time since the party, he felt a little lighter in his chest. He fished around in his pocket for the silver ring, hooking it onto his pinky finger and rubbing his thumb along the “true love waits” inscription he’d memorized earlier. __________

Waking up on Sunday was an ordeal. You hadn’t even been drinking, but it still felt as if you’d had a stimulation hangover. Your ears rang from all the noise, and there was a deep pressure behind your eyes from all the crying you’d done.

You wiped away the crust from your eyelids and were immediately met with tenderness at your temple.

Oh, yeah. You’d been elbowed in the face last night.

Crawling down from your bed, you made your way over to the mirror above your desk to see just how bad it was. An ugly, angry red lump with purpled edges glared back at you.

The rest of your face hadn’t fared much better. Your makeup was smudged all around your eyes and your lipstick smeared down your chin.

You’d slept in your clothes, having been too exhausted to change into anything else when you got back around at around two in the morning.

The alarm on your phone rang, signaling it was time to get ready for church.

You sank down into your desk chair, having no motivation for anything.

You never skipped church unless you were sick. One of the things you prided yourself most on was your regular attendance. Plus, church was where you did all your socializing. All of your friends went. It wasn’t just church you liked, it was going out to lunch afterwards with everyone. It was treating yourself to a luxurious coffee drink beforehand. It was dressing up in your favorite outfits and performing on stage. And it was the satisfaction of knowing God was pleased with you.

Was God still pleased with you?

You stared at the lump on your head.

You’d resisted temptation. That didn’t count for nothing. You’d also allowed the situation to go much further than you should have, but you still listened to your gut when it told you to get out of there. That was enough of a success in your book.

Your thoughts drifted to Noah.

He’d been so forward last night, truly put himself out there, and had looked so dejected when you’d pulled away. But then again, hadn’t he said a few weeks ago that it was important to risk rejection? He seemed aware of what the stakes were.

You didn’t know exactly why you pulled away at that moment. Something told you it wasn’t the right time, but part of you worried that you wouldn’t get another opportunity like the one you’d had, and that perhaps you ruined your chances with him.

Maybe you did? Was that the worst thing?

Perhaps this was God’s way of telling you that Noah was not the right person for you. And if that was the case, you would need to get over the idea of him so you could continue to interact with him at community service without getting hurt.

You kicked your foot up on the desk in front of you and leaned your chair back, staring up at the ceiling and trying to find the central point of balance.

It was 10:30. If you were going to make it to church, you’d have to get up now and start getting ready. You’d have to leave no later than 10:45 to make it to the 11:00 service on time.

You continued to balance on the back legs of your chair, seeing if you could get it to balance on its own for five seconds.

10:45 came and went, and you did not leave your chair. You couldn’t make it to five seconds without it tipping, but you made it to four and a half before you gave up and went back to bed.

__________

You were awoken by a rapt knocking at your door. It definitely wasn’t your roommate, Stevie. She went home every weekend and didn’t come back until late in the evening.

You rolled out of bed and looked at the clock - 1:00 PM. Yawning off the remaining sleep, you opened the door. The first thing your eyes landed on was the white, deep v-neck that gave a peek to a tanned chest.

“Isaac? What are you doing here?” you asked. Isaac had walked you to your dorm before on nights when practice ended late and he insisted it was inappropriate to allow you to walk home alone, but he had never visited you before.

“I wanted to check on you. Can I come in?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, hesitantly moving aside to let him through. Once inside, he leaned against your desk, crossing his arms as he observed you.

“So…,” you trailed off, sitting on your bed cross-legged.

“You weren’t in church today.” It was not an observation, but an accusation, and it immediately set your nerves on guard.

“Yeah,” you said, keeping your tone even. “I didn’t feel great.”

“Are you hungover?”

“No. I didn’t drink.”

He fixed you with a stare that let you know he didn’t believe you. You met his eyes, unwilling to back down.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugged, likely figuring he wouldn’t get more out of you.

“Do you know where Ava is?” he asked. “She didn’t come either.”

“She didn’t?” This was news to you. You’d looked for her briefly after you’d left but had been unsuccessful in finding her and assumed she’d gone home.

“What happened last night? You look like you’ve been through it.” He stepped closer, eyes scanning up and down your face.

Instinctively, your hand went up to touch the bruise and Isaac’s eyes narrowed.

“It was just a mosh pit,” you said.

“Yeah?” he asked, tone laced with suspicion. “Is that why your purity ring is gone?”

You checked your hand to see it was, indeed, gone. Left in Noah’s back pocket. You sighed and tipped over sideways onto the bed.

“I lost it. But not like that,” you said.

“Sure,” he said, absolutely not believing you. You’d never been seen without the ring, and it was unlikely that it slipped off.

“I didn’t do anything,” you said.

“What is ‘anything’ to you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, look. I don’t owe you this information and it is in no way your job to make sure I’m pure, but I didn’t even kiss anyone last night. I seriously just lost the ring.”

Isaac’s eyebrow lifted up and he pursed his lips, staring you down to see if he could detect any signs of falsehood and when he found none, he deflated.

“Alright,” he said. “But in the future, could you not stay out so late? It was hard to carry the praise and worship service without you and Ava.”

“Sorry,” you said. “I’ll be there next week.”

“Promise?” he asked.

“Promise.”

“So how was the party?” he asked.

“Honestly?” you asked. He nodded. “Not great. Definitely not my scene. I got full-on elbowed in the face. Plus, everyone there was drunk and I couldn’t relate to anyone.”

You could tell Isaac was enjoying hearing your confession, the look in his eye now sporting a condescending glint. But, to his credit, he refrained from giving you any sort of ‘I told you so’ kind of lecture. After a beat of silence though, he started to chuckle at your misfortune.

“Does this feel good to hear?” you asked. He smiled in return and it was genuine.

Isaac wasn’t terrible. He seemed to truly care about you, and though he could be intrusive and overbearing at times, his heart was in the right place.

“Alright. I think I’m gonna let you get some more sleep,” he said after several minutes of catching up, tapping a knuckle on your desk to punctuate his visit. “I’d like to meet sometime this week to go over this Christmas showcase. Thursday night good for you?”

You nodded. “Thanks Isaac.”

You puffed out a mouthful of air as soon as you heard the door close, feeling like you’d just been the subject of an interrogation. It was clear now that your actions were being watched. Anything out-of-character could easily be reported back to your father, and while Isaac let you off the hook easily this time, you couldn’t be so sure he would continue if your behavior turned into a pattern.

You’d have to tread much more carefully if you wanted to fly under the radar.

_______________

The week passed quickly. Ava hadn’t returned any of your texts and you grew worried, but figured she would talk to you whenever she was ready. You wondered if something had happened at the party. Was she upset with you? Was she avoiding you?

Thursday’s meeting went well enough. Isaac had a lot of good ideas about the songs he wanted to perform and how to get the word out about it. The two of you worked closely together and you were starting to wonder if perhaps you’d judged Isaac too harshly for his actions the other week.

It was possible that Noah was just a distraction after all. Someone that helped you shake some of your delusions about Isaac so you could see him as an actual person instead of putting him on such a pedestal—because now that you interacted with each other as equals, he wasn’t all that bad. He was actually easy to get along with.

He didn’t give you that warm pooling sensation in your lower abdomen that Noah gave you, but connecting with him was enjoyable. You could see yourself working well as partners together.

“So you’re going to have to take the solo for Mary Did You Know, as well as O Holy Night,” he said. “You’re our top soprano.”

“Got it,” you said with a curt nod. “Are you going to do O Come O Come Emmanuel?”

“You know it,” he said, grinning proudly. His voice had a great timbre for that one and he knew it.

“Is Ava going to be participating?” you asked.

Isaac sighed. “I haven’t been able to get ahold of her.”

“Me either. I’m starting to get concerned.”

“If she doesn’t show up at church again on Sunday, maybe we should visit her,” he suggested.

“I think that would make me feel better,” you agreed.

As it turned out, however, you didn’t have to wait for Sunday. Ava was waiting outside your dorm when you got back from your meeting with Isaac.

“Hey,” she said, sitting with her knees curled up in front of her. She wore baggy sweatpants and an oversize hoodie.

“Hey,” you said. “Stevie’s home. If you want to talk privately, we should probably go for a walk or something.”

Nodding, she stood up.

You had walked out your dorm hall and halfway down the block before she got the nerve to speak.

“Sorry for being MIA,” she said, hands pushed deep in the pockets of her hoodie.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

“I think,” she replied. “I just needed some time to sort my feelings out.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. She nodded.

“What happened on Saturday? I couldn’t find you anywhere.” You tried to keep any judgment out of your tone.

“I had more to drink than I meant to,” she began. “I didn’t know my tolerance.”

“That’s an easy mistake to make, especially for your first time drinking,” you said.

“Yeah, but that’s not all that happened.”

The two of you had reached the edge of campus. A left turn would lead you past the party house. A right turn would lead you to the church grounds.

You let Ava take the lead, patiently waiting while she weighed her options.

She turned left. You nodded and continued walking with her.

“I want you to know that I don’t regret any of my decisions,” she prefaced. “I just had some complicated feelings about it.”

“Of course,” you said.

“Nick and I hooked up on Saturday night.”

Your footsteps faltered, but you recovered quickly. “How far did you go?”

“We had sex.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you stopped walking. “What?!” Your voice came out as a shout. 

Ava inhaled slowly through her nostrils, nervously looking around. “I need you to make less of a deal about it than you’re making right now.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, tone hushed as you leaned closer to her. “But that’s a whole consent issue. If you’d been drinking…,” you trailed off.

“I was drunk when we were making out,” she said, “but I had sobered up by the time we went back to his place.” 

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes.” She confirmed, with an earnest look in her eye.

“Okay,” you said, calming down a bit. You’d been about to find Nick and strangle him. “So you really don’t regret it?”

“I don’t,” she said. “But… I feel awful about not regretting it. I feel like I should, like it makes me a bad person for not. Like, we were always told that if we made a mistake like this, we’d feel terrible about it. And I don’t feel terrible. I liked it, even. And I want to do it again, if I can.”

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say. Growing up, you and Ava had always been on the same page about sex, frequently discussing what it might be like on your wedding night. Ava had always been a bit on the wild side, but you had no idea her opinions had changed quite this much.

“But I feel like I’m not allowed to feel this way and continue being involved in the church.”

You understood where she was coming from. Even after you and Noah barely touched each other, you felt weird about going to church the next morning. It was actually quite refreshing to hear that you weren’t alone in questioning the validity of your chastity pledge. You thought you were alone in that.

“Honestly, I don’t blame you,” you confessed. “It feels like there’s an expectation there that if you attend, you have to feel the way they think you should feel. Like if you have sex or something like that, and don’t immediately regret it afterwards, you’re not good enough.”

“Right? Yes!” she said, more lively than you’d seen her all evening. “And I just feel so disconnected with that message.”

“You’re not wrong for feeling the way you feel,” you reassured. “Honestly, I’m also learning that faith is a lot more complicated than they’d have you believe. Noah might be a good person to talk to about it.”

“You mean Nick’s friend?”

“Yeah. He’s helped me see a lot of blind spots that I’d had before regarding religion and sexuality.”

“Did you guys…?”

You shook your head. “No. But we’ve been talking a lot about some of the problems in the church, especially around sexuality. How did you feel immediately afterwards?”

“Well, I went to the bathroom and cried about it, because I initially was hit with a lot of guilt. But after I processed that, I felt kind of happy? Like I was finally living the life I wanted to live for once.”

“I’m glad you got that experience,” you admitted. “I’m sorry that you felt so guilty.”

“To be honest, I thought you would handle this information way worse.”

You laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah, I’ve been pretty closed-minded.”

“I think we all started that way.”

“I’m glad you told me,” you said. “I was really worried about you.”

“I’m sorry it took so long,” she admitted. “I was afraid of what you’d think. You’re one of the most important people in my life. I didn’t want you to hate me. And I didn’t want to have to pretend to feel guilty about it to you, or lie about the fact that it even happened.”

You paused the walk to look at her. “I know I haven’t always been the most accepting person. I’m working on that. But I could never hate you. Ever.”

Ava looked back, eyes glassy. The two of you embraced in a lingering hug, of which the significance was not lost on either of you.

When you pulled back, you realized you weren’t too far away from the party house. It was Ava that continued walking towards it.

As the two of you approached, you heard music blasting from the house. You were one or two houses away when you heard Noah’s singing voice.

“I think they’re having band practice,” you said, and sure enough, when you got to the front of the house, you could see inside the basement windows. The light was on and the band members faced away from you. All of them played with intensity—though less intensity than they had done the previous Saturday, when they had the crowd’s energy to feed on.

Noah wore a cutoff black shirt and you could see that his tattoos extended across his back—what looked like flowers on each shoulder and vines connecting them. You couldn’t see anything else, but it piqued your curiosity.

At some point, someone in the band made a mistake and they stopped the song halfway through. Noah turned around to face the drummer and you only had just enough time to dash out of sight before you caught his eyes flick up to the window, squint, and then redirect to the guitarist.

“So how was it?” you asked Ava, resuming your walk.

“Honestly?” she began. “It was incredible. Like, definitely awkward, but also one of the coolest experiences of my life.”

“What happened?”

Ava launched into a (very detailed) retelling of how Nick made sure she was coherent and could give enthusiastic consent, and then how he didn’t judge her for how new she was. He walked her through it every step of the way, made sure she had a great time, and even allowed her to crash at his place afterwards, going as far as to cook her breakfast the next morning.

“He wasn’t the best cook, mind you,” she said. “But the gesture was very sweet.”

“Huh,” you said. “I might like Nick a little more now.”

“That’s their house, by the way,” she said, pointing across the street to a tan single-story home with an unkempt front porch and an overgrown lawn. Beer bottles littered the side of the porch. You could see the blinds were broken in some areas. And yet, you couldn’t help the warmth and affection from growing in the pit of your stomach imagining all the good times that had been shared between the men that lived here.

It was evident from the way they interacted with each other at the party that all of the band members were close with one another. For a moment, you had felt welcomed into that world. At least until you had a panic attack.

“Want to turn around?” you asked.

“Sure,” she agreed.

“So what do you think of their music?”

Ava laughed out loud. “I appreciate Nick’s passion, but I don’t think I ever want to be in a crowd like that again.”

“Same,” you agreed, linking your arm with Ava’s.

This time, when you passed the party house, the lights were off. For a brief second, you wondered what Noah was doing, but then brushed the thought away easily, because it didn’t really matter. You were more than happy simply spending quality time with Ava. Taglist: @reyadawn @sundamariis @noahsebastions @cyber-tiny @livingdeceasedgirl @just-randomm-stuff @xxkittenkissesxx @treacheryinblue @flowerynerds @1toreyouapart @badomensls

Click here to be added to the taglist! As always, I would love to hear your feedback! I eat it up, so pls feed me.

[floydira]

Hello there!! Sorry to bother you. I wanted to request a Floyd x Male reader (preferably transmasc but if not it's fine!!) fic. I was thinking maybe the reader was another singer in a band and had beef with brozone but ended up falling for Floyd? (If this is too much it's totally chill, but thank you anyway!!!) - anon ☆—(≧⁠▽°)★~

₊˚﹒✶﹒Love in the Line of Fire .ᐟ

floyd x transmasc reader.

note ; ah no worries anon! it's never a bother when I see anons requests in my inbox. I'd honestly love it more if I keep being drowned with more requests in my inbox. also, your usage of kaomojis is so cute! hopefully this is to your liking <3

the beef probably started because of john dory, riling up your band because he kept blabbering about how brozone is gonna hit the perfect family harmony and playfully belittling your band.

even though you didn't know brozone that well personally, you held a slight grudge towards the said band because of john dory. your band mates grudge towards john dory is much more than yours.

you're not really one to care about problematic matters at hand when you can use that focus to improve your own skills. that's why your grudge wasn't as big as your bandmates. they were quite competitive.

you do admit that brozone's tracks are catchy and pleasant to the ears, but you would be caught dead in a ditch before ever admitting that out loud.

when your band and brozone had to go back to back once, tension was in the air before the performance.

you were focused on your vocal warmups when you noticed a pink haired guy staring at you from across the room. slightly flustered by being caught, the pink haired guy gave you a bashful smile before looking away, putting his focus back to his brothers.

you found out after you finished your performance that his name is floyd, you kept a mental note in your mind to observe him more when you do see him.

little observations turned into fullblown admiration towards floyd whenever you had the chance to meet him in events.

by this time, the beef between brozone and your band died down, so there wasn't really anything stopping you from confronting floyd about your feelings.

except...that performance was his and his brothers last, before he traveled away from his place and away from his brothers. before brozone disbanded completely.

after a few years passed by, your band also disbanded but you were still waiting on floyd to come back, a slight tinge of hope in your heart says that he would. after a few more months pass by and no trace of floyd, your patience for him to come back went to waste. you start to give up and forget about your feelings for him by distracting yourself with other stuff.

that is, until you hear from the chatter around you that brozone is back after 20 years.

you restrained yourself from caring about the news before poppy told you all about what happened and invited you to watch their come back stage. that made you lose your restraints and let curiosity take over you.

you went to the place poppy told you to go to, the first performance were performed by NSYNC, a group you just found out about.

afterwards, brozone members were on stage and after that, poppy got invited to join the band on stage.

poppy brought you and viva along with her to perform.

feeling like there's nothing to lose, you performed perfectly. thanks to your past self secretly watching every brozone performance you could see.

during the performance, you made eye contact with floyd. his face showed a subtle shocked expression, before it turned into a warm smile. you changed your spot to be beside him, so you both performed side by side.

after the performance ended, you confronted floyd hesitantly.

"hey...I know you went through a lot before this and that our bands were technically rivals in the past," you emphasized the 'a lot'

"but I just- I have to let you know that- i- uh- I liked you. well actually, Idostillkindoflikeyourightnowbutidontknowifyoufeelthesameway!" you quickly said the last sentence in one breath.

floyd was surprised. his brothers, viva and poppy all watched you on the sidelines. you can hear poppy cheering you on.

"you...like me?" floyd repeats back

"duh! I spent years waiting and waiting for you to come back just so I could let out my feelings. I waited and waited, yet you didn't come back...I was worried, but more disappointed in myself that I even thought you would come back."

"I was frustrated! frustrated by my own self and by you, until poppy told me everything. that you were kidnapped and getting your life literally sucked out of you just for some teens to get fame with fake talent." you finally uttered out.

you hug floyd and he reciprocates the hug back.

"actually...I like you too. as funny as it sounds, I think I really did fall in love with you when I made eye contact with you the first time. I felt sparks and everything" he chuckles at his own words.

you were now the one surprised

the brothers, viva and poppy all cheered for the both of you.

john dory could be heard in the back saying, "well damn, my brother really is gay..."

you two officially dated afterwards! hooray!

if you decide to tell him about being transmasc, he's super open and supportive about it.

your dates consisted of duetting together, dancing (a fun tango every wednesday? how lovely.), baking together, anything you both mutually like to do.

floyd would definitely love doing your eyeliner for you(since he canonically does his own and wears eyeliner)

[glass--beach]

Hi J! Do you have any pointers (or recommendations of learning resources) for how to scream without hurting your voice? I wanna learn but have no idea where to start!

i have an old video on here about it but i might do another one soon tbh bc i probably could’ve explained or demonstrated it a little better. i think searching “screaming” on my blog will pull it up if tumblr search is less than 100% nonfunctional. chris liepe on youtube has some good videos on fry screaming & false cord screaming. he focuses pretty heavily on like, butt rock lol but the technique is universal and following along with his exercises helped me to get a better grasp on those parts of my voice.

melissa cross is the vocal coach everybody talks about for this but a lot of those people are doing one on one coaching with her and you have to pay for her videos. i do have a digital copy of one of her dvds SOMEWHERE though and if i can find it will post it though i don’t think it’s THAT hard to find for free. it came with a set of warmups that i sing along with to prepare for every glass beach show & recording session.