#james has an electric guitar!!

[pigeartpng]

Both versions cz i cant choose wich is my fav!

Alr ik james isnt supposed to have his glasses on stage in tcoptp BUT I JUST CANT IMAGINE JAMES POTTER WITHOUT GLASSES 😞🤚

And ik hes most likely not the type to to get a tattoo but i cant imagine he hasnt been jealous of remus ever since he got lily's initials tatted across his chest and didnt get his own lily initials tattoo as soon as he could

ANYWAY thats how i imagine them on stage, james and sirius would sooo be in their own bestie bubble sometimes and scream lyrics looking at each other and shit, theyd be the best stage duo ever

@motswolo

[hangup119]

don't get the deal | h. taesan (TEASER)

being the shoulder to cry on is no easy task - especially not for han taesan, who has lived almost half of his life painfully smitten over someone he is confident would never, ever think of wanting him as more than just a friend. he wonders if he will ever get out of this so-called "friend zone," or maybe he just doesn't get the deal at all.

pairing. han taesan x fem. reader

genres + warnings. friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, one-sided pining, eventual happy ending, slight angst + profanity, taesan is bad at feelings, reader is even worse

playlist. don't get the deal by beabadoobee; but i like you by boy next door; somethin' stupid by frank sinatra; about a girl by nirvana; disasterology by pierce the veil; if i'm james dean, you're audrey hepburn by sleeping with sirens

expected word count. 7k-10k words | teaser word count. 1.3k words

author's note. hey goisss... ive had this in the drafts for so so long but for some reason i started working on it again and im nearing the end so hopefully this will be out very soon !!! dont quote me on that tho live laugh love user hangup119's work ethic <3 ALSO btw this teaser is like a flashback kinda thing but the real story actually takes place in their college days

@onedoornet | reblogs appreciated!

IT WAS HIGH SCHOOL WHEN YOU RUINED TAESAN'S LIFE FOREVER.

To be more specific, it was during your last year of high school when he realized that there was simply no way he was ever going to win you over. Not now, and certainly not ever.

Because here’s the thing: Taesan was not a bad-looking guy, he’s far from it, actually. In fact, he had enough business cards from agency recruiters that could fit a whole shoe box, so his looks clearly were never the problem here. Was it his personality, then? Probably not that, either. He was pretty chill most of the time, and he had never really acted up around anyone unless it truly called for it. He always made sure that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself around you, and there were never really incidents that could have painted him in a bad light in your eyes. He had decent grades, so he wasn’t stupid either, which was one of your major turn-offs. And he was sporty—he participated in the school’s soccer team, and he even had a bunch of fans giggling over him whenever he so much as passed them by while chasing after the ball, so his popularity was pretty decent too.

Was he simply not… your type? But that couldn’t be—you were always making heart eyes at Park Sunghoon who was two grades above, and he was told all the time that he was basically a lookalike of the guy! Not to mention you were always at Jung Sungchan’s games, cheering his name even when the guy was literally being benched. Taesan never got benched. He was the star player of his soccer team. You fawned over Park Wonbin when he performed at the school’s talent show, but Taesan could also sing and play the electric guitar just as well. You squealed over Lee Sohee because he was sooo cute! but Taesan knew how to get real fucking adorable, too! He practically had all of their qualities combined into one, and not once did you ever look back at him. 

And that’s when it hit him. 

It was prom that night, and he was off at the corner drinking from a cup of water instead of jumping along with the fray and bouncing up and down to some Drake song when his friend, Kim Leehan, approached him. 

“I’m not slow-dancing with you, Leehan,�� he muttered, taking another sip of his bland water. “Piss off.”

Leehan raised his arms in response, smiling in a way that was just so Leehan-like of him. “Woah, woah, I get it. Someone pissed in your cup, or something? Literally and figuratively,” he laughed, leaning against the wall next to him. “Lighten up for once, ‘san. It’s your first and last prom, you know?” 

Taesan only grunted in return. 

“Look at you; so emo tonight,” Leehan said, defeated. He followed the other’s gaze towards the dance floor, where everyone is packed together like a can of sardines. “But you’re always so normal around Y/N.” 

Taesan paused.

Leehan laughed again. “Hm, maybe not?” 

Sometimes, it was both a blessing and a curse to be friends with someone like Kim Leehan. 

“Stop talking about things you already know,” Taesan murmured, chucking the water cup into the trash can a few meters away. He placed his hands inside his pockets, looking straight ahead amidst the dizzying lights and the dispersed crowd now that a slow song started playing.

“Why don’t you go ask her for a dance?” Leehan suggested, signaling towards the dance floor. 

“She’s literally holding hands with Yang Jungwon right now,” Taesan deadpanned. “Are you kidding me? How’d she get him of all people as her prom date?” 

Scoring the smartest and the most popular student in your school has got to be the biggest flex of your high school career. Taesan had almost no complaints except for the fact that Yang Jungwon was your date instead of—him! Any moment now and he’d be losing his mind. Actually, scratch that, he probably already was. 

Leehan hummed. 

“Do you think,” he began, slowly, darting his line of sight between you who’s giggling at something Yang Jungwon said, before turning back to Taesan, the angstiest kid he’s ever known. “That, maybe, if you had just asked her out to prom with you… then maybe she’d have said yes?” 

Finally, the gears inside Taesan’s head started to turn. Leehan smiled at the sight.

Taesan quickly scoffed. “No way,” he denied, crossing his arms. “Why would she go with me when she’s got Yang Jungwon as her date? It’d only happen in my dreams.” 

He figured it out anyway. It wasn’t because he wasn’t as handsome as Park Sunghoon, or as sporty as Jung Sungchan, or as musically talented as Park Wonbin (though he’d beg to differ), or as cute as Lee Sohee. Heck, it wasn’t even because he wasn’t as smart or as popular as Yang Jungwon. 

Maybe it was never because of those things that made you look at them instead of him. 

Maybe you were just never interested in him at all. 

And Taesan will have no other choice but to live with that fact forever. 

Leehan’s smile dropped, and he peeled himself away from the wall. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped for a second just to say: “You’re so—stubborn.” 

Taesan looked at him indignantly. “...What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Leehan shrugged, finally walking away. “You tell me, dude.” 

And then he was gone, rushing off to join the rest of their friends while Taesan stayed in the back, alone and miserable all because of his newfound epiphany. Though he supposed he was already miserable the moment you entered the venue with Yang Jungwon right beside you. 

It was a time of new beginnings for Taesan; a time to finally move on from you. 

Though, if only it was that easy.

Two weeks later, when you were working on a final project with him, you unexpectedly dropped the news that you and Jungwon have broken up. Because Jungwon was going to some Ivy League, and you were decidedly… not. You couldn’t handle the thought of being long-distance, so you decided to just cut things off with him since it can’t be helped, you know? And then you proceeded to laugh it off with that huge, idiotic smile of yours before continuing on with the project. Taesan didn’t know what was so funny.

Eventually, he had to share his water with you when you started sobbing hysterically inside of the library, hiccuping and all. 

He admittedly felt awful seeing you cry over Yang Jungwon, your high school boyfriend of probably only two months, but most importantly, he felt awful because of the relief that suddenly washed over him. 

…And what did that make Taesan?

So, really, maybe it was for the better that you would never look at Taesan the way he wished you would. That no matter how many times he has lent you an ear to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, you never bothered to stop for a moment and think that hey, maybe this guy likes me to some capacity, and maybe I should give him a chance. Because what kind of friend is he to feel relieved at the fact that you had gotten dumped by your boyfriend? That when your heart was broken, he could only rejoice at the fact that he now has a higher chance of getting with you once again even when it is so clear that he never once did? 

How could he sit next to you and think such thoughts? 

And yet, even when you keep jumping from one person to another, falling for someone, crying over another—Taesan will always be there for you when it all comes crashing down. A friend to cheer you on, to lift you up, to steady you—because that’s all he’ll ever be to you. 

Han Taesan was only seventeen years old when you ruined his life. 

And for what it is worth, he is still in love with you.

story by hangup119. do not steal.

[moonstruckme]

hayy!! so tonight i went to a small little show that my friend was doing with his band, and me and the bassist made crazy eye contact while he sang the lyrics “good, i’m proud of you” to me. (i’m dead) ANYWAYY it made me think, this is kinda out there but maybe a james potter band au?? like he’s a drummer or bassist and you keep making crazy eye contact and the tension is THICK.. (maybe even some groupie activity later??) IDKK i’d love to see youre interpretation 😋 or even just to chat about it!!! i love you’re work sm

That sounds so fun babe! Thanks for sharing omg <3

cw: bar

rockstar!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

As much as you like Marlene, you’d sort of thought her band was going to be shitty. And in your defense, most of the ones who play this venue, where the crowd is typically too drunk to care what sound fills the space and it only costs a few quid to get in, are pretty amateurish. They’ll play their one or two original songs, then fill the rest of their time with covers, trying all the while to figure out how to work the stage and engage the crowd. 

These guys definitely don’t seem like amateurs. 

Marlene had said they were just starting out, but you don’t believe it. She, as you expected, is incredible. She embodies this fierce, uncaring kind of cool, fingers sliding up and down the neck of her electric guitar with skill you didn’t know she had. The guys in the band aren’t half bad either. The singer has a voice that seems always on the edge of a scream, and he and Marlene play off each other’s energy, him occasionally leaning the mic her way to belt something together. The bassist seems a bit aloof, long fingers moving with an almost lazy dexterity, which seems to be driving the people clustered at the edge of the stage even madder than they might be if he paid them any attention. And the drummer…

Perhaps you’re partial to the drummer because he doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be cool at all. There’s something completely uninhibited about him that lights something in your chest and sends a buzz of excitement through the room, like you’re all feeding off his energy. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. Sweat shines brilliantly on his dusky skin and drips off the ends of curly brown hair that’s just long enough to flop into his eyes. Someone threw him a headband earlier in the show seemingly to help prevent this, so now he’s got it pushed back, curls protruding his head and bouncing as he bobs enthusiastically to the beat. A smile splits his face as he launches into a brief solo, and coincidentally your stomach erupts in butterflies at precisely the same time. 

You’re thinking of trying to jostle your way up to the barricade when the drummer’s eyes take another skim of the crowd, and this time they catch on you. Your heart stutters. A tall figure moves in front of you, obscuring your view of the stage, and when they pass the drummer’s still looking at you. And holy shit. This is eye contact. You’re not totally sure how well he can see you what with the lighting in here, but it feels like his eyes are looking right into yours and saying Hello, nice to meet you. 

A few seconds more and he has to tear his attention away as they go back into the chorus, but your eyes keep finding each other’s. It feels more intimate than it probably should, with several meters of distance between you and the crowded, raucous atmosphere, but you can’t help the giddy lightness that accumulates in your chest over the course of the set. 

During what the singer says will be their last song, his gaze flicks to you with something different in it. It’s not something you can place, but in the next second it’s gone, and all his attention is on his drum solo. You cheer with the rest of the audience as drumsticks fly, almost too quick to see, over the drums and cymbals, and you’re so caught up it takes you a second too long to realize one of them actually is flying. 

Your hands flinch up in front of you just in time, protecting your face and fumbling the drumstick nearly to the ground before you catch it. You look back towards the drummer, and his eyes have flared with alarm. 

“Sorry,” he shouts over the screeching of guitars, earning a glare from the singer a second before all sound cuts out. 

Marlene takes the mic, announcing that they’re done performing for the night but will be available to receive free drinks until closing. The band starts to pack up and leave the stage. 

The crowd splits in two, one half migrating towards the bar and the other towards the exits. You’re not quite sure where to go. You want to meet up with Marlene, maybe give her the drumstick to pass along to her bandmate and thank her for inviting you before you head home, but you’re not bold enough to venture backstage. You cast a glance toward the bar, twirling the wooden stick absentmindedly between your fingers. Maybe you can find a seat to wait for her? 

“You’re not bad at that.” 

You turn, and the drummer from the band is standing behind you. 

“Oh.” You glance down at the drumstick in your hand, feeling a bit silly as you hold it out. “Thanks. Here you go.” 

“Thank you.” His eyes are even better close up. He’s put on glasses, magnifying the warm brown of his irises and the thick, dark lashes that nearly brush his lenses when he blinks. “You looked like you’d be a better catcher.” 

You laugh. “Not sure what would make you think that.” 

“Well, you did manage it in the end.” He smiles. It’s charming with a touch of roguishness, and you get the impression he’s someone accustomed to being forgiven. “Sorry for almost hitting you in the face.” 

You shrug, suddenly unsure what you usually do with your hands. “It happens,” you say. “I don’t take it personally when musicians lose their instruments in my direction.” 

“Oh, well I wasn’t trying to lob it at your head, but tossing it your way wasn’t an accident.” 

Something funny happens in your gut. “It wasn’t?” 

His grin spreads and he shakes his head. “I figured it was my best shot at getting a chance to meet you.” 

Your face heats. You hope you’re not smiling as big as it feels like you are. “You could’ve just asked Marlene,” you say. “No need to throw things.” 

He laughs, a warm and hearty sound. “I’ll have to refine my methods,” he replies. “I’m James.” 

You tell him your name in turn, and he gets this look on his face like it’s the best thing he’s heard all night. 

“Do you wanna join us at the bar for free drinks?” he asks, taking out the headband and ruffling his hair so his curls bounce onto his forehead. It’s more than a little distracting. “I’m sure Marls would love for you to stay.” 

“I…” You glance towards the bar. “I’m pretty sure the free drinks are just for people in the band, no?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He waves you off, taking your hand and leading you towards the bar. “You won’t be paying regardless. Just tell me what you like.”

[novvabee]

And They Were Roommates (1.5)

Summary: this is just how I think their rooms would look like

Remus- His room is the biggest, don't ask why. His room is mostly clean, clutter and clothes strewn about every so often. He makes his bed now and then, thinking it makes his room look cleaner when he does. His room is the least colorful, not to say it lacks color, he just likes neutrals and greens to feel less stressed. There's a couple plants in his room, some propagating on his desk along with a laptop and some books he is currently reading. He has a couple bookshelves in his room, that's where he keeps his favorites, knowing that there is a smaller chance they won’t be harmed or destroyed by the other two. He doesn't use the big light. Ever. He prefers lamps and string lights to soften the lighting in his room.

Sirius- He is never really in his room anyways, always in James or Remus’s rooms so, he mostly uses it as a closet. His room is smaller than Remus’s but has a great view. He often sits in his window and smokes, enjoying the view. He has posters all over the walls and tapestries on the ceiling. His room is never clean. Ever. He never makes his bed, says that it is a waste of time since he is just going to sleep in it again and mess it up anyway. He has tons of records in his room, ones he doesn’t feel like sharing with the other boys. He also has an acoustic guitar and an electric guitar in the corner of the room. He definitely has polaroids of all of his friends on the wall next to his bed, on his mirror, and on the back of his door. He has a feature wall in his room that is painted with different stars and constellations in amazing detail.

James- James has the smallest room of the three, but he doesn’t mind. He prefers being out in the living area with the other two anyway, so there's no need to complain about the size of his room. There’s lots of sports posters over his desk and equipment sprawled around the floor of his room. His room is more colorful, he prefers bright colors, having banners in red, yellow, green, and blue. He has some other banners in his room with different animals on them like a wolf and a deer. His bed is ALWAYS made, he likes the routine of waking up, making his bed, then starting his day. There is nothing that is off limits to the other two, he likes sharing anything he has and in return the other two are more open to sharing with him. Which is why Remus’s sweaters can often be found at the edge of his bed or Sirius’s guitar leaning up against his wall.

[kquil]

SIRIUS BLACK | 01:27 ⏤HIS FAVOURITE NEIGHBOUR

SUM : because of his ambition for music, sirius drives many of his neighbours to near madness until they eventually move away and then you move in...

G. : modern au ; muggle au ; rising rockstar sirius ; rising rockstar marauders ; neighbours au ; fluff

LENGTH : 0.8k

Sirius has gone through his fair share of neighbours and he can’t blame them; in his pursuit of music with the Marauders, his electric guitar has helped drive them away sooner than their contract ends. He has yet to maintain any pleasant interactions with his neighbours, all of the ones he’s had have been decent at first meeting but that’s usually when he’s greeted to welcome them into their new home, simple pleasantries. It’s a few days into living beside him that complaints start. 

It doesn’t bother him too much, seeing as they never stay long enough or were pleasant enough to be around for Sirius to befriend them but it was still a shame. 

And once again, the cycle restarts. 

“Oh hey,” Sirius greets with his usual boyish grin, devilish and delinquent, “so you’re going to be my new neighbour, huh?”

“Yup,” you smile, setting down some of your final few boxes to outstretch a hand, “I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you…”

Sirius shakes your hand with a smile, “Sirius Black at your service,” he brings your knuckles to his lips and winks playfully as you giggle, “nice to meet you too,” he greets, disguising his internal grimace with some light humour; the thought that you may not be as sweet to him in just a few days from now brings a sour taste to his mouth. It’s a shame, because you’re super cute. 

“Sirius…” you try saying his name with a growing smile on your face, “like the star?” Sirius nods with a shrug as you smile, “Cool name,”

“Thanks,” just as you’re about to pick up your boxes again, Sirius breaks the ice, “listen, I just wanted to warn you about something,” he uncharacteristically rubs the back of his neck with a hand, looking troubled as you raise a brow. 

“What is it?”

“I’m a guitarist, I play the electric guitar, actually,” you smile, originally cautious but already understanding where he was going, “so I would play often and it gets loud, just some fair warning,”

“I see, thank you for letting me know,” you nod thankfully, smiling and pick up your boxes again. 

“I’ll play only at reasonable times, I promise,”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you nod thankfully to him once more and go about moving in your things again, leaving Sirius to flash a bitter smile before making his way into his own home. You’re pleasant now but he’s sure you won’t stay sweet and adorable for long, you wouldn’t be the first…

Weeks pass and not a single complaint. 

Sirius was ecstatic. Not a single fucking complaint! You’re a saint, always greeting him with your usual smile whenever you two catch each other and he gushes about you endlessly to the boys. 

“She hasn’t complained once!” Sirius sighs with relief and connects his guitar to the amplifier, lowering the volume just slightly; he’s willing to be more courteous since you’re so understanding and pleasant, “what an angel,” he says more to himself than the boys as they share a look between one another. 

“This’ll be the first time we’re practicing together though,” James reminds him as they settle behind their instruments, “this will definitely test her understanding,” he chuckles as Sirius bites his lip nervously. You were so perfect, he doesn’t want to see you go now. Not only do you not seem to mind the music but you’ve treated him to home baked goods every saturday too and he doesn’t want it to ever end; your cookies are unbeatable!

“Come on guys…” he starts but is cut off by James practicing his part of the drums, Remus soon joining him on bass with a sympathetic smile and Peter follows with the keyboard. 

Muscle memory persuades Sirius to eventually join, playing only a few minutes more before he’s stopping everyone and forcefully lowering the volumes on Remus’s amplifier, on Peter’s keyboard and warning James to ease up on the drums or so help him…

“Alright alright, jeez, I just wanted to make sure this girl was the right one….” he pouts like a scolded child and the group continues to play with considerably lowered volumes. It was so far reduced that they were easily interrupted by a loud banging on the wall you shared with Sirius. 

As soon as they stop, they hear you shout through, “TURN THAT SHIT UP! THIS IS MY TYPE’A MUSIC!”

Everyone laughs, Sirius with the most relief, throwing his head back and they all make the proper adjustments. 

“Lucky,” Peter sighs with a pout, “I wish my neighbours were like her,” 

“Don’t we all?” Remus agrees with a nod. 

“Looks like she’s as perfect as you said, Pads,” James teases. 

“You should try her cookies,” Sirius winks, “they’re to die for,”

“Lucky bastard,” someone whispers and Sirius just laughs. 

PART TWO

A/N : i love rockstar sirius but what was his life like before all the fame? and then this timestamp came to be! i hope you enjoyed the reads, lovelies!

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins ; @astonishment ; @until-i-found-you ; @goodoldfashionedluvergirl ; @tiensmamains

NAVI.

[world-of-wales]

HAPPY 11TH BIRTHDAY TO THE SWEETEST AND CUTEST LITTLE MAN, HRH PRINCE GEORGE ALEXANDER LOUIS OF WALES (B. 22 JULY 2013) ♡

On 22 July 2013, Prince George was born to Catherine and William, then known as Duke and Duchess of Cambridge in St Mary's Hospital, at 16:24 BST weighing 8 pounds and 6 ounces. He was born during the reign of his paternal great-grandmother Elizabeth II and is the first child and eldest of Will & Cat.

The little prince's name was announced on 24 July as George Alexander Louis. George is one of his paternal grandfather King Charles’ middle names and was the regnal name of Queen Elizabeth's beloved father Albert. Alexander is the masculine version of Queen Elizabeth's middle name Alexandra and was also Catherine's top choice for a baby boy's name. Louis is in honour of his 3rd-great-uncle Earl Mountbatten of Burma - Louis, his father - Prince William and King Charles.

Georgie was was christened by the archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, on 23 October, in the Chapel Royal in St. James' Palace.

George spent the first few months of his life in Anglesey, Wales, before his family relocated to Kensington Palace in 2014. He started at West Acre Montessori School Nursery in 2016 when his family moved to Anmer Hall in Norfolk and then studied at at Thomas's School in Battersea. In 2022, George and his family relocated to Adelaide Cottage in Windsor, after which he started at Lambrook School with his siblings.

Born as a Prince of Cambridge, he became HRH Princess George of Wales after his grandfather conferred his parents with the titles of the Prince and Princess of Wales. George was third in line to the throne upon his birth but is now second in line following hid dad taking over as the heir.

He made his official royal debut during the Cambridge tour of Australia & New Zealand in 2014. His first Palace balcony was in 2015 and has also joined his parents on official tours to Canada, Germany and Poland. Taking part in two royal weddings Georgie has also been a part of his great-grandmother's Platinum Jubilee celebrations in 2022 and was a page of honour at his grandfather's coronation in 2023.

George is a keen tennis and football player (a huge Aston Villa & England fan) and loves rugby, cricket & triathlons. He is adores AC/DC and Led Zeppelin & is learning to play the electric guitar. Georgie is known to love the military and wanted to join the air cadets when he was younger.

He also loves helicopters and police cars and was a fan of Fireman Sam. As per his mum, he likes thunderstorms, and when younger T-rex, the dinosaur fascinated him the most. George spends a lot of time outdoors, helping out with the farm animals & is quite a competitive gardener.

[star-crifice]

James Diamond x Reader

Words: ~ 3160

A/N: My 10 year old self must've taken over me and ghostwritten this bc why the hell am I, a 19 year old, writing BTR fanfiction AND it's the best stuff I've written in months. God. Have fun. I'm so done over here.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

James has got a thing for you.

And that’s not a secret, not even to you. When he likes someone, he pursues them – that’s nothing new. The very moment you stepped into the Palmwoods, retrieving your key and James just so happened to walk into the lobby, the word “Dibs!” left his lips so fast, his friends didn’t even have a chance to lay eyes on you.

He wasn’t afraid to show you his interest, just like he was with every other person that appealed to him. But the difference with you was that every sweet word from him was laced with the tiniest bit of hesitation.

Just after a few days of getting to know you, the sheer thought of being rejected by you would have ruined him. One part of him wanted to share every sweet thought about you that ever crossed his mind, another part of him was – possibly for the first time – genuinely scared of your reaction.

His advances at you didn’t go unnoticed. At first, you felt flattered at such a good looking, charming guy flirting with you. Though it did feel a bit overwhelming, you barely knew him after all. You thought if he actually liked you like that, he would wait a bit. He’d be ready to get to know you more. But that wasn’t quite the case, at least how it appeared to you.

You got to know the boys of Big Time Rush along with the friends they made in the Palmwoods and spent a lot of time with them. However, James would always try to get close to you – it felt suffocating. You didn’t have the heart to reject him and tried to instead gently push him away, both literally and metaphorically.

James didn’t quite get it, thinking you aren’t into him yet and he would have to try harder. But after a while it felt simply pointless to him and he stopped. He went back to his usual self, flirting with any pretty girl willing to pay attention to him. It was obvious that he did this to distract himself from you, but if anyone would have asked him he’d insist that he’s over you – what a lie. At that point he was head over heels.

Desperation coated his aimless flirts, reaching for the attention he craved from you.

At this point James and you were good friends, having known each other for a bit longer. You finally felt like you knew him and he might know you.

It happened quite overnight – no, actually. Faster than that. He was only a friend, you swear. But that one friday night… A power outage. A few people from the Palmwoods sat outside beside the pool, surrounding a campfire. That and the countless candles being the only sources of light shimmering on your skin. A guitar went around, person after person sharing their musical talent waiting for the electricity to come back. Of course, it didn’t take long until it was James and his friends' turn. You were swaying back and forth, humming along with the tune of their song and basking in the heat of the fire. It was a very cozy moment and for the first time since arriving at the Palmwoods, you felt like you were surrounded by normal teens instead of aspiring stars. You’ve never felt closer to your friends, neighbors and even the people you’ve never talked to. You dared to look over at the boys singing, just a moment. But that very second you laid your eyes on James, something clicked in your mind. You’ve seen him countless times, always looking perfect, keeping himself in check. Though in that moment, the way he sat there – his hair disheveled from being in the pool, wearing his still slightly wet swimming trunks and a loose shirt, singing and swaying and having fun – something sparked in you.

And suddenly you missed when he shifted to sit just a bit closer to you, kept eye contact like his life depended on it and would put his hand on your shoulder, so tender and carefully as if he could scare you away. You took it for granted back then. That was quite literally how you got to know him and now that part is basically gone.

That “moment” you looked at him happened to turn into a full on stare. Not too obvious of course, but embarrassing enough that when his gaze caught yours, you turned your head faster than you even processed what just happened.

You’d like to slap yourself for the train of thought that just occupied your mind. Yes, James was nice and lovely and good looking and charming and whatever – but to you he also seemed like he never took it seriously.

To you, he tried to wrap you around his finger until he realized that you aren’t that easy to swoon.

To you, it seemed like he got bored of you and flirted with the next girl, until he got bored of her and flirted with the next. Again and again.

To you he was just a heartthrob, simple as that.

To him, you were an unattainable star he could only wish for.

Therefore, only a friendship blossomed between the two of you.

A while has passed since that night of realization and to be honest, you kept struggling to look at James the same. He shined a bit brighter in your life and that made you mad. There was no way you could ever have something serious with him, you told yourself. Just yesterday you saw him in the park with his arm around a pretty black haired girl.

Though the truth is, her eyes reminded James of yours. And he ghosted her by the end of the day because her laughter sounded off beat and sour compared to yours. He kept asking himself if you laugh at other peoples jokes like you do at his – if you ever gifted that smile, that one special smile he only saw a couple of times, to anyone but him. He hoped you didn’t.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

James, Carlos, Logan and Kendall were at the studio, recording a song like so often. As usual they were having fun, making jokes, pissing off Gustavo until James fell silent.

“Everything alright?” Logan asked after he took note of James' sudden change in behavior.

“My mother will come this evening,” he says rather quietly, shocked at himself for forgetting this.

“That’s good though, isn’t it? As long as she doesn’t want to take you back to Minnesota.” Kendall shrugs.

Of course that’s good. James is glad that he might build a normal mother-son relationship despite the long distance, now that his mother agreed to come visit him more often. However, there is one tiny little issue…

“I told her I have a girlfriend,” James admits.

“But you don’t..?” Carlos raises an eyebrow, “When was the last time you’ve had an actual girlfriend?”

“THATS-” James says loudly before cutting himself off, “Don’t say it like that.”

He takes a deep breath, thinking about how to handle this situation. A while ago his mother called, in true motherly fashion she obviously had to know about her son's love life. He might have been too prideful, and amidst his pride a bit delusional; he didn’t want to admit that for the first time in a while, he was hopelessly in love with someone. So he lied.

Of course he had a girlfriend. She’s lovely and special, not like any of the girls he brought home that his mother never approved of.

The band wasted no time, finishing work in record speed, rushing out of the studio so fast, not even Gustavo's angry shouts reached them. They were going to find a “girlfriend” for James for this evening, no matter what it takes.

They reached the Palmwoods, scanning the lobby like they were on a hunt.

“Any preferences or just anyone? Look at that blonde over there, she’s pretty!” Carlos pointed across the room.

“Oh no she knows me,” James shook his head.

“We need someone we can trust to play along and lie. And she has to lie well, you know James’ mom.” Logan thought out loud.

Just in the right moment, you came out of the elevator, walking across the lobby.

“Her!” Kendall, Logan and Carlos shouted in unison. You stopped in your tracks, hesitantly pointing to yourself with a questioning expression, “Me?”

James stared at you with wide eyes. Of course you’d be the perfect fit. You know him, join his shenanigans regularly, aren’t too bad at lying and surely wouldn’t get your hopes up like others might. Though his heart aches a bit at the thought. He doesn’t admit it to himself, but he still likes you just a bit too much for his liking. Maybe he’d be the one to falsely get his hopes up after acting out a relationship for a whole evening. Going back to friends after his mother leaves might hurt a little too much. Is he ready to take that risk?

“We need you to be James' girlfriend!” Kendall said loudly, rushing over to you along with Carlos and Logan.

“What? Huh?” You’re surprised to say the least. Was that a confession? A joke? The boys explained the situation to you – a bit fast and all over the place, but good enough. By the end of it, James finally walked over to the four of you, his expression being a mix of embarrassment, panic and hope.

“Could you do that? Pleeeease? For us?” Kendall said, joined by Carlos: “We’ll make it up to you, pinky promise!”, as Logan nodded profusely.

“I guess, yeah. We can do that.” You nodded slowly, looking over at James. The tension in his shoulders was gone, he could breathe for a moment.

Together, you went up into the band’s apartment, being greeted by Kendall’s mom. She already started the dinner and immediately you joined her and helped prepare the meal and table. With now 5 more people by Ms. Knights side, it took significantly less time to get everything ready.

“James, can you pass me the plates?” You asked the boy, he looked at you for a moment, appearing like a deer in headlights, before bringing you the stack of plates. You smiled at him, nodding as a thanks and put the plates down around the table.

The both of you haven’t been this close in a while and on top of that, didn’t feel this awkward around each other in a while. About half an hour until James' mother arrives at the Palmwoods, the food was simmering on the stove and the table looked like straight out of a five star restaurant, adorned with flowers and folded napkins.

You joined James on the sofa, letting yourself fall against the soft cushions in hopes of it releasing the tension building up inside of you. In just 28 minutes you’d have to act like the girlfriend of the boy you’ve had a very complicated almost-crush on (that you had yet to admit to yourself).

“You’re stupid, you know that?”, you said with a slight laugh in your voice. James turned to you, slouched back into the sofa with his arms crossed. Up until then, he looked serious and deep in thought. Now he’s raising an eyebrow and fighting a smile.

“For lying to my mom?”

“For lying to your mom,” you said, slowly subconsciously mimicking his pose. You looked at him a bit longer, trying to figure out what he thought at the moment.

“It’s gonna work out, yeah? I’ll try my best. I’ll be so all over you, your mom would think we're about to get married or something,” you tried to joke to lighten the mood, slightly nudging his knee with yours. A long sigh escaped his lips and finally, a smile appeared.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“So you’re the lucky girl?” Ms. Diamond says in an unreadable voice. James just picked her up at the entrance of the Palmwoods, guiding her up into the apartment where everyone else was waiting patiently. She walked through the door, radiating willpower, sternness and a bit of sass.

Now she’s standing in front of you, reaching out her hand for you to shake and looking you up and down, before glancing towards James, raising her eyebrows so quick you almost didn’t see it. You follow her gaze over to her son, widening your eyes a bit, hoping he gets the message that you're ‘struggling over here!!!!’

He quickly comes over, resting his hand on your back. You see his mother noticing the gesture and lean a bit into James' touch, just as the cherry on top.

The both of you guide Ms. Diamond over to the table and you rush to help Ms. Knight with the pots and pans, bringing them over to the table. As everything’s ready and you want to sit down, James quickly gets up from his seat beside you and pulls out the chair for you in true gentleman's fashion. He gestures to you to sit and you do as he says, before he pushes your chair to the table.

Accidentally, as he sits down, his knee touches yours, but he doesn’t pull away. Neither do you. You keep telling yourself it’s just for show.

Everyone starts chatting – especially the two mothers of the table that desperately need to catch up – and filling their plates up. You do as everyone else, though quietly. You’re so unbelievably focused on James (obviously for the sake of the lie) that you’re not sure what to say.

“So,” Ms. Diamond says, her voice effortlessly louder than the others, “How did you two sweethearts meet?”James and you look at each other. Shit. You didn’t plan anything like that.

“Uhm..” You start, stalling a bit to figure out a good story.

“Right here, at the Palmwood,” James says confidently after a moment, “She walked in and I saw her and I said ‘wow!’”

“Actually, he said ‘DIBS!’,” Carlos says with a full mouth, earning a light punch from Katie.

“I got to know the boys and he didn’t move from my side,” you add to James’ retelling.

“It just kind of happened. We became friends and slowly… more,” he looks at you and you have to fight to keep a smile on while hearing his corny words. You nod, looking at your food to not let the mask slip.

James' mother asks you more and more and you feel like you can’t put an end to it. Every now and then James would get a bit closer, say something sweet to you or simply wink. You felt like when you arrived at the Palmwoods. But you let it happen, for the sake of fooling his mother. And maybe you enjoyed it a bit. Just a tiny little bit.

But the thought that all this is just fake and quite literally the result of the fact he doesn’t take relationships seriously, makes you want to push him away again.

Gently just like the way he slowly grabs your hand right now.

Tenderly like the way he lets his thumb glide up and down over the ridges of your knuckles.

You want to push him away, just not too far. So he’ll be gone for now but might come back later.

Maybe you just want to push him to lay your hands on him just once, but there are better ways to do that, aren't there?

So you let it happen, basking in his adoration for once. Enjoying it a bit too much for your liking.

After about an hour of dinner and chit-chat, Ms. Diamond excuses herself and her son to go on a little mother-son-walk through the park. You bid goodbye to her, reciprocating her firm handshake as a good last impression.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You finish washing the dishes before James comes back from the walk. Neverending questions about what his mother thinks of you plague your mind, but you're not sure why. The show is over after all.

Finally back in your own apartment, you pace back and forth, replaying the events of today again and again in your head. It’s already a bit dark out when you almost overhear someone knocking on the door from how filled your mind is. You rush over, not even looking through the peephole before opening the door.

Of course, James is there. Alone and calm, no smile or even flirtatious smirk adorning his face.

“Hi,” you say, curious about what he wants.

“Hey.” He lays his hand on the door, pushing slightly, letting himself in. It’s dark in your apartment, aside from a small warm lamp on a table beside the couch, illuminating the both of you just enough, casting an orange glow on his face like that night at the campfire.

Oh and how you wish that feeling in your stomach – just like that night at the campfire – would leave.

You take a few steps back, standing awkwardly in your living room, letting him come in.

“How did it go? The walk with you mom,” you ask quietly. He nods, collecting his words and looking into the lamp.

“Good. She liked it. She liked you, I think.”

“What did she say?” you ask, now even more curious. She liked you.

“You seem like a sweet person. She’s used to other types of girls from me. She thinks you’d be good for me.” He laughs a bit at the end.

You fidget with your hands, not sure what to say. Usually he’s more cheery and talkative, finding topics for conversations, even if he just wants to talk about himself.

“So… friends, right?”, you say, even more quietly.

A smile forms on his lips, barely visible, “I don’t know. Do you like me? Because I like you.”

“I know you do. You like a lot of people though, so what’s it worth?”

His smile drops.

“If you’re not going to give me a chance, then at least a kiss to get over you?”

He steps closer, you stay put.

“You’re just trying to swoon me,” you say, trying to be stern but hearing that sentence out of your own mouth makes you smile a bit. He comes closer again and you want to step back, but looking at him makes you remember all the times he made your heart flutter. You think of all the times you looked at him and thought to yourself, if he kissed you now, you’d be his. You feel his warmth now, he leans in.

And you let it happen. And you kiss back. Gently. Tenderly. Slow.

One kiss, he said. But not how long it will last.

Eventually, you pull back, looking down.

“Are you over me now?” you ask, not sure what answer you’re hoping for.

“Are you kidding?” he laughs.

“So… this is serious, then?” you ask hesitantly.

He nods.

[valwrites-stuff]

Hi, you write so beautifully for current James and I was wondering if I could request one, if that’s alright please? They both meet by chance and feel some connection towards each other. Reader isn’t very confident, but decides to give in and experience some loving even if it’s temporary and maybe not real. They spend an intense night full of passion, lots of emotions, different poses, etc. James is very sweet and worships all of her. They also talk to each other about everything and their bond only gets stronger. Day comes and he wakes up alone in bed as she left knowing that there never could be something between them. Feel free to add either a happy or sad ending. Thank you!! ❤️

So sorry this took me so long, I hope this is what you had in mind ❤️

Sweet connection

James Hetfield x Reader ☆ Fluff and Smut 

Beneath the fluorescent lights on the inside of the gas station, the day unfolds like a cracked vinyl record, the same monotonous tune repeating itself with every passing hour. You stand behind the counter, absentmindedly sorting through a delivery of tobacco products. It was just another boring day where customers came and went, each interaction as forgettable as the last.

“Hey, can I get one of these, please?” a voice calls out, breaking through your dull concentration.

You turn, expecting to see a tired regular or a bleary-eyed traveler seeking a caffeine fix. Instead, your heart leaps into your throat as you process the sight before you, the unmistakable silhouette of James Hetfield, standing in front of you with casual confidence.

You blink as the world suddenly dims, the buzzing lights and distant sounds fading into the background. “Oh, um... sure!" You manage, scolding yourself for how utterly starstruck you feel. You can practically feel your cheeks turning crimson.

James raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “Is that a yes?” His voice was rich and deep, like the heavy thrum of a guitar riff, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

“Y-yes! Right away!” you stammer, focusing your attention back to the display of cigars as if the neatly arranged packages would provide you with the composure you desperately need. Your fingers tremble as you fish one out, nearly dropping it twice before you turn around to the register and the Metallica frontman.

As you scan the item, you risk a glance at him. James was studying you with an amused expression, those piercing blue eyes strangely warm, as if they saw more than just a stranger. “You a fan?” he asks with a chuckle, seemingly being able to see right through you, leaning against the counter, his presence both intimidating and thrilling.

“Uh, yeah! I mean, I am, but—” you interrupt yourself, unsure how to express your admiration without sounding like a babbling fangirl. “I just didn’t expect to see you here. Like, in this... gas station,” she replied awkwardly.

He chuckles again, that rich sound echoing in your ears, and you can't ignore how his soft laughter makes you feel all fluttery inside. “Yeah, I tend to haunt the unlikeliest of places."

“I can see that,” you say with a shy smile, thankful that your voice seems to be regaining some of its earlier confidence. You hand him the sealed package and your fingers brush slightly, sending a jolt of electricity through you. His gaze lingers on yours, and time feels like it has hit the brakes.

He glances around, as if noticing for the first time how small and mundane the place is. “You know, it’s nice to get away from the limelight sometimes. Just bought a house around here. That's if you're wondering what I'm doing in a small town like this." 

His words take you by surprise. You had never expected to hear something so personal from a rockstar. It was as if he felt a strange sense of trust in you, despite knowing you are a fan.

"I can understand that, Mr. Hetfield," you reply, your voice trembling slightly. "It must be hard to live a life in the spotlight."

He nods, a hint of weariness in his eyes. "Yeah. Sometimes, it's nice to just be... normal, you know? To have a quiet place to retreat to."

"It's nice here, would you like me to show you around sometime?" You ask, the question spilling from your lips before you can stop it.

He looks at you, surprised, then a slow smile spreads across his face. "I wouldn't mind that," he says, his eyes twinkling.

"Well I...you know where you can find me." You smile and watch his curious features before he pays for his cigars and gas.

You talk for a few more minutes, your conversation flowing effortlessly despite your nervous demeanor.

As he turns to leave, you can't help but feel a strange sense of connection with him. Despite your vastly different lives, you share a common desire for peace and simplicity.

"Thank you." he says, a genuine smile gracing his lips. "It's nice to talk to someone who understands. Oh and call me James."

With that, he strides out of the gas station, leaving behind a lingering sense of wonder and an unexpected memory. As you watch his car disappear into the distance, you can't shake the feeling that you just had an encounter with a man who, beneath the rockstar persona, was simply a human being longing for simple connection.

You feel your gaze drawn towards the window, the cars passing by, a welcoming distraction from your rambling thoughts. Lost in your reverie, you barely notice the incessant buzzing of a phone.

Glancing down at your own, you realize with a start that it was not the source of the noise. Your eyes fall on the foreign device resting on the counter—James' phone. A sigh escapes your lips as you realize the predicament.

Tossing up your options, you decide to return the phone after work. You know you could inquire in town about his new abode or simply search for his distinctive car.

Curiosity mingles with a sense of anticipation as you plot your evening adventure. You'll find a way to make his forgotten phone a bridge, a chance to cross the space that separates you, a chance to maybe find your way into his life.

You clock out of work at the end of your shift and get into your car, ready to face your mission. As you drive your heart beats a little faster and after a few wrong turns, you finally navigate your way to a lakeside neighborhood, where the air carries the scent of pine and tranquility.

There you spot it, a sleek black luxury SUV parked in the driveway of a very modern style country house. You park your own car and step out, your pulse racing. As you approach the house, each step is a mixture of excitement and trepidation. What if he’s not home? What if he is? Would he even remember you?

You walk up to the front door, the air thick with anticipation and ring the doorbell. Moments later, the door swings open, revealing that familiar face. He blinks in surprise, and his eyes widen in recognition. "It's you!" he exclaims, and suddenly, the world fades away.

“Your phone,” you manage to say, holding it out like a peace offering. His soft laugh dances through the evening air.

"Oh wow, there it is, I had no clue where I left my phone, I was searching the whole house. Can't believe you went through all this trouble to bring it back to me despite not knowing where to find me...," he says, his voice filled with gratitude.

"It was no trouble at all...it's a small town you know..." you reply, trying to keep your cool despite the fact that you were standing in front of one of your biggest idols. "I just wanted to make sure you got it back."

"Well thank you, I appreciate it," James says, a small smile playing on his lips. "Would you like to come in for a drink? I feel like I owe you one."

You can't believe your luck. Not only are you standing at James Hetfield's front door, but now he is inviting you into his home. "Oh I...I would love to," you say, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice.

As you walk into his house, you can't help but take in every detail. A very rustic farmhouse style but at the same time very modern and the air was filled with the faint scent of incense. James leads you to the living room and offers some coffee which you gladly accept.

"So, I didn't get your name did I?" James asks from the kitchen, before taking a seat on the couch next to you after placing two cups of coffee on the wooden table in front of you.

"I'm Y/N," you reply, feeling a rush of nerves at the thought of actually having a conversation with him.

"Well, Y/N, I have to say, I'm impressed by your honesty and determination, I haven't even realized I lost my phone for the longest time, and that anyone who found it would respect my privacy is quite a rare thing I guess...," James says, his eyes meeting yours.

You feel your cheeks flush at his words. "Oh I promise I haven't touched it since finding it on the counter...I just couldn't let your phone go missing," you say, trying to sound casual.

James chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Well, I'm glad you did. And who knows, maybe it was fate that brought us together. It's nice to get to know someone from around the area you know." 

You can't believe what you are hearing. Is James Hetfield actually flirting with you? You take a sip of your coffee, trying to calm your racing heart.

As the evening goes on, you talk and laugh, sharing stories and getting to know each other. And as the hours pass, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this chance encounter at work could turn into something more for real.

"You know I'm having quite a hard time these days, after my recent divorce..." James says as he's staring ahead as if to avoid your gaze despite deciding to tell you about his personal problems.

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that. I can only imagine how difficult it must be for you," you reply sympathetically, reaching out to touch his hand in a gesture of comfort.

"Yeah, it's been tough. I never thought I would be going through something like this. I thought she was the one, you know?" James says, his voice filled with a hint of sadness.

"I understand. It's never easy when a relationship comes to an end, especially when you thought it would last forever," you say, trying to offer some words of encouragement.

"I just feel a little lost, like I put so much of myself into that relationship, and now it's gone," James tells you.

"It's okay to feel that way, James. It's all a part of the healing process. Just remember that you are not alone, and there are people who care about you and want to help you through a difficult time," you say, squeezing his hand gently.

"I appreciate that, I really do. It's just hard, you know." James says.

"Take it one day at a time. Allow yourself to process your feelings. And remember, there is always hope for a brighter future, even in the darkest of times," you say, offering him a small smile of reassurance.

"Thank you for listening, and for being here for me. It means more than you know," James says, finally meeting your gaze with a look of gratitude in his eyes.

"Of course, James. I want to see you happy. You deserve nothing less," you say, giving his hand one final squeeze before letting go.

As you sit in silence, the weight of James' words hanging in the air, you realize that sometimes the greatest act of kindness is simply being there for someone in their time of need. And in that moment, you know that you will do whatever it takes to help James find his way back to happiness. As much as you can do that is.

"Thank you, really. I'll be fine, I just had to get away for a bit, so I came here and bought this house. You know a place I can come back to whenever I need to clear my head for a while."

"You sure made the right decision like you'll love it here and this view? Look at that, it's fantastic." Admires the sight out of the large windows, giving you an amazing overview of the lake outside. 

As you stare out into the scenery, James nods but keeps his eyes on you, having a much better view, admiring the person in front of him, yearning for something that makes him feel desired and something that reminds him of his once felt love towards someone. 

The sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, reflected in the still surface of the lake. "I know it's beautiful," James says, his voice calm and soft, "but not quite as beautiful as you..."

You turn your head, catching the warmth in his gaze. He had moved closer, his arm resting against the back of the sofa, his hand gently resting on your thigh. A shiver runs down your spine, not from the cool air, but from the intensity of his eyes.

"James..." you breathe, your heart hammering against your ribs. He doesn't speak, simply leans in, his lips coming to brush yours in a feather-light touch. His kiss was slow, a gentle exploration, tasting of the unspoken desires.

You feel a rush of emotions flood through you as you melt into his touch. The world around you seems to fade away as you lose yourself in the moment. His hand moves from your thigh to cup your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

You can feel the heat between you, the electricity crackling in the air. It seems to be a moment of pure connection, a moment where everything else ceases to exist. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own.

You kiss him back eagerly as he pulls you closer. And then, suddenly, he grabs your leg and pulls you into his lap, holding onto your thighs to keep you seated.

His touch is electric, sending a jolt of desire through you as you look into his eyes, dark with desire. "Do you want this?" he whispers against your lips, his breath hot against your skin.

You nod, unable to form words as you lean in to kiss him again. The connection between you is intense, a fire burning between you that threatens to consume you both.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, you look into his eyes and whisper, "Yes, I need this..."

And with that, you surrender yourself to the passion that had been building between you, letting go of all inhibitions as you give yourself over.

You can feel James' hands grabbing onto your hips, pulling you closer to him, body pressed against his. The contact is making you shiver and your heart pound in your chest. 

His lips find your neck, placing hot kisses on your skin and you moan softly, hands moving to the hem of his shirt, fingers finding their way underneath the fabric, feeling his warm skin. 

Your touch makes goosebumps rise on James' skin, his lips moving to your ear, breath hot against your flesh.

"You're so fucking sexy," he whispers, his hands moving to your thighs, fingers digging into them. You bite your bottom lip, hands wandering to the front of his pants, your fingers nervously fumbling with his belt. You can already feel the hardness through James' jeans, your body influenced by the action.

You let out a soft breath as your digits finally manage to undo his belt, hand slipping inside his pants, your fingers wrapping around his hard cock.

"Fuck, Y/N," James gasps, his hips bucking into your hand. You start to stroke him, hand moving up and down his length, your thumb brushing over the head of his cock, spreading the precum that had leaked out. You can feel him getting harder in your palm and you lean forward once more, lips finding his, your tongues dancing together as you continue to stroke him.

"I want you, James," You whisper against his mouth and James lets out a soft groan, his large hands moving to your ass, pulling you closer to him.

"I want to feel you inside of me." You murmur into the kiss. "Fuck, if you continue doing this, I'm gonna cum," James moans as you can feel him getting closer. 

He lets out a soft sigh, his hands moving to your shirt, undoing the buttons. You squeal internally as he removes it from your shoulders, hands going to your bra, undoing the clasp. As the bra falls away, James's hands replace it, cupping your petite breasts, thumbs gently brushing over peaked nipples. He kneads the soft flesh, his touch both possessive and adoring. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his lips finding yours again, his kiss tender and deep.

You moan into the kiss, body trembling with need. James's expert touch drives you wild, and you can feel your pussy getting wetter by the second. You pull away slightly, eyes dark with desire. "James, please."

In response, James moves to gently push you down onto your back, bare skin touching the texture of the sofa and your legs wrapping themselves around his waist. 

He kicks off his shoes before pulling the shirt over his head, your eyes locked on his delicious appearance, body well maintained, tattooed arms strong and ready to keep you in place.  

James's hands move to the waist of your pants, quickly undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. With a swift motion, he peels the pants off, leaving you in only a pair of skimpy lace panties.

James gazes at your naked body, a look of appreciation on his face. "You're gorgeous," he breathes, his eyes raking over your form. "I can't wait any longer."

With that, James is on his feet and quickly sheds the rest of his own clothes, his cock erect and proud, throbbing with need. "I want you inside of me," you murmur.

Groaning, James climbs back onto the sofa, hovering over your body, hooking his inked fingers into the waistband of your panties before pulling them down your legs. Left bare, he situates himself between your spread legs. He rubs his tip teasingly against your wet entrance, causing your hips to buck instinctively. "You want it, baby?" he asks, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me how much you want this." 

"I want it so bad." You pant, eyes fixed on where both of your bodies join. "Please, fill me up. I need to feel you, take me hard."

James doesn't need to be told twice. With a savage growl, he plunges deep into your tight and welcoming heat. You cry out, your back arching off the sofa as you feel every inch of James's thick cock filling you up.

He starts to move, his hips snapping as he establishes a steady rhythm. Your hands grasp his ass, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Fuck me, James," you moan, voice breathy. "Harder, please."

James complies, slamming into you needily with each powerful thrust. Your eyes roll back in your head as you cling to James, nails digging into his flesh. "That's it, baby," James growls, his hands holding onto your thighs, spreading them wider to allow even deeper penetration. "Take it all. You're doing so good."

The sound of your flesh slapping together fills the room, accompanied by your whines of pleasure. James leans down, capturing a swollen nipple with his mouth, sucking and biting gently as he continues to thrust. "You gonna cum for me?" he urges, his voice rough. "Let me feel you come around my cock."

Your soon to be happening orgasm hits you like a freight train. You cry out, body shaking uncontrollably as waves of pleasure washes over you. James feels your pussy clenching rhythmically around his cock, milking him, and it's all he can take. With a few more powerful thrusts, he spills himself deep inside of you, moaning freely as his release coats your gummy walls.

Collapsing onto your sweaty body, James tries to catch his breath, his own body slick with sweat. Your arms wrap around him, a satisfied smile on your face. "That was incredible," you whispered, stroking James's silver hair.

James chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We're not done yet," he promises, already feeling his cock stirring again. "I have a feeling this night is going to be very long and very satisfying."

And it was. James and you explore each other's bodies with relentless passion, discovering new ways to pleasure each other with each passing hour. It was a night of uninhibited desire, one that both would remember with intense satisfaction for a very long time.

The sheets were a tangled mess, and your bodies were spent, but the smile on your faces said it all. It was a night of pure, unadulterated, erotic bliss but it all seemed to end too soon when James awoke in his bed by early morning, left with nothing but a cold and empty mattress next to him, your presence still lingering in every cell of his body, making him let out a sigh as he stares at the ceiling wondering when he deserves to feel that certain kind of happiness again, not just for one simple night but for a brighter future.

But little did he know that you would come back with a warm smile and a fresh breakfast waiting for him, driving all the way to the best bakery in town by early morning, hoping he would still be asleep and not sad about your disappearance. And after the sun rises he would be one happy man with wonderful hopes for the future. 

[plathfiles]

lead singer!remus never being one to be public with his emotions but writing the sappiest love song for reader and the fans just go wild!!! everyone just assumes it was james or sirius that wrote it (let's be honest james probably wrote 10000 ballads for lily) until one show remus is just all 'this is one i wrote for my girl' 🥺🥺🥺

GAH 😩 YES OMG OMG !!!

thank you for this love <3

hope you enjoy !!

The Marauders set up their instruments and sound hours ago, practicing as much as they could before their performance. The band had started receiving gigs in pubs and at parties. Already having a few original songs under their belt, they were receiving more attention from local venues.

You had been introduced to the band from a dear friend. Marlene McKinnon was friends with the band and the guitarist’s girlfriend — Lily Evans. Everyone was going to be there tonight. The pub already filling up with university students and local residents from the community. You were in a booth at the front of the venue, squashed between Marlene and Lily.

“I wonder how many love ballads there will be tonight?” Marlene asked, turning to Lily and giving her a smirk.

Lily playfully rolled her eyes. “James doesn’t write that many,” she protested. Although she had to admit, the boy had written a few love ballads similar to those of the 1980s.

You took a sip of your drink and looked at you friends. “I wonder if Remus has written anything?” She asked.

Remus was a very private writer. He would write with Sirius or the rest of the band. You wouldn’t be opposed to having a song about you. But Remus didn’t seem like the type either. Especially with James’ obnoxious guitar skills and clearly Lily inspired lyrics.

As the room got more crowed and the 9 o’clock showtime reared it’s head, the band stepped out onto stage.

Remus was the first to come out. He was wearing an argyle sweatshirt and corduroy pants. It was his signature look and you thought it was very attractive. His guitar was around his chest. It’s bright cherry red color glistening in the light. Sirius was the second to pop out from behind the curtain, drum sticks in hand. James stepped out, almost tripping on a cord. He was usually very clumsy. His glasses were crooked, per usual and his vintage yellow electric guitar was strapped onto him. Peter was the last to get on stage, his glittering blue bass in his arms.

The band did a couple last minute checks, before Remus grabbed the microphone and looked into the crowd.

“Hello everyone. I’m Remus Lupin if you didn’t already know,” he smiled and the crowd cheered. “To my left is James Potter on electric guitar, to my right is Peter Pettigrew on bass. And lastly, on the platform behind me is Sirius Black on drums,” he introduced. With each name the crowd went wild!

Remus looked down at you and gave you a smirk and wink. You felt your cheeks redden and butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“We have a newly written song for you tonight!” Remus said. “This is a love song!”

The crowd cheered before he could finish the introduction.

“Awe here we go again Lils, another one about you,” Marlene joked. You laughed under your breath as Lily took a drink of her beer.

But Remus continued and said something that surprised you.

“I wrote this one,” he blushed, then looking at you. “This is one I wrote for my girl.”

The band began to play the opening notes of the rock n roll song. As he was singing, he was only looking at you. Lily and Marlene cheered along with the crowd. You were stunned to silence, a permanent blush coding you cheeks.

For three minutes Remus and the rest of the band performed a song of Remus’ creation. All about the beauty and wonder that was you.

The rest of the performance went beautifully. With some of their usual set and a couple Bowie covers, they seemed to be over before you knew it.

After the performance you, Lily and Marlene went to meet the band out back to help them pack up their stuff. Once Remus spotted you, he dropped the cigarette he was smoking. He walked to you and pulled you close to him.

“Did ya like the song, love?” he asked you.

You nodded, “I did. I was surprised you wrote a love song about me?”

Remus pulled you in closer. “I meant every word I wrote. And I’d write you a million love songs, now that I have you in my arms,” he replied.

Overhearing the two of you, Sirius groaned, putting some parts of his drum set into the van. “Ugh great! You’re going to make him as bad as James,” he said, looking towards you.

Remus and you laughed, then the brown haired boy pulled you into a sweet kiss. “I’m glad you liked the song. I can’t wait to write you another.” He held you close to him, kissing your forehead.

𝑎／𝑛 ： I hope you enjoyed this. Please do not forget to reblog and like! If you’d like to request anything please send me a message through my inbox. Also my dms are open anytime if anyone just wants to chat <3

[avkizi]

MARAUDERS ERA DR INTRO !!

BASICS ౨ৎ-----------------------------------------------------------------

||*.name: venus mayumi

||*.nicknames: rings, vee

||*.birthday: 06/04 (11)

||*.pronouns: she/her

||*.occupation: student @ hogwarts

||*.ethnicity: filipino/japanese/german

||*.blood status: half-blood

APPEARENCE + MOODBOARD

⋆.˚ lil blurb: i have vitiligo, which affects my eye, skin in some smaller patches, and the front bits of my hair, making them lighter ⋆.˚

SCHOOL/SOCIAL ౨ৎ-----------------------------------------------------

||*.house: gryffindor

||*.friends: marauders & valkyries, + regulus black (♡), dorcas meadows, pandora rosier, kingsley shacklebolt, & emmeline vance (civil w/ the skittles/emeralds bc of reg)

||*.animagus form: raccoon

||*.personality/social life: lowkey a little loud, def more similar to james & sirius than remus & peter, but i actually know when to shut tf up, and i'm generally well-liked. there isn't as much hatred of other houses, and a lot of the death eater/pureblood stuff is way less prevelant, so friendly rivalries are common, but no all-out hatred. me n sirius are beaters for the gryffindor quidditch team (i'm also lowkey ripped asf hehehe), but i end up having to drop out mid fifth year from an injury, so me n lily end up commentating (lmao).

||*.hobbies:

muggle volleyball thrifting, crocheting, embroidery, & sewing singing + playing electric guitar jewlery making rock, fossil, and bone collecting/foraging parkour roller skating quidditch

WORLD STUFF ౨ৎ--------------------------------------------------------

||* uniforms arent as strictly enforced, fridays, weekends, and non-school days like holidays you can wear regular clothes undr your robes, accessories are always allowed (jewelry, belts, hair shit, etc.)

||* there are a bunch of extra curriculars available like different clubs, etc. and theyre lowkey super fun theres like baking club, art club, care of magical creatures, its so sick.

||* they do so many fancy events theres a halloween masquerade ball, easter ball, valentines day dance, autumn/spring equinox events, etc. also the triwizard tournament didn't get banned and there was one in my fourth year bc i said so

||* it's genrally recognized that students within the same house arent all the same sow hile friendly competition is encouraged, it's also common for students to have friends from other houses, and ppl are allowed in other house's dorms & common rooms if they're invited

||* there is a bioluminescent cave pool under the castle and its so fun to hang out in oh my god its not cold or anything its just soso cool

||*voldemorts downfall happens the year after we graduate (aka the order destroys all the horcruxes), and nobody i know well dies so none of the betrayal happens, but regulus does end up taking the mark but dosen't believe in all that shit & works as a spy (snape could NEVER) for the order, and still destroys the horcrux but survives and fully leaves his family (suck it walburga and orion)

MISC/TRIVIA ౨ৎ-----------------------------------------------------------

has three pets, two cats and an owl, whos names are mocha, shinya, & ghost, (the cats r technially communal between me n the valkyries bc they live in the dorms w us, but idc)

bands/music artists and slang r all the same as they are now, but technology etc is all 70s (w/o the homophobia racism etc)

i shift in the day before i get my hogwarts letter

sirius and reg are irish twins so while reg is still younger hes in our year (along w the rest of the skittles/emeralds its for simplicity)

there is a creek/river system in the forest and its so cool to hangout near theres like fossils and bones and cool rocks and shit EVERYWHERE i love it

the lake is swimmable (unless you can't swim cough cough regulus black) and its super fun theres a dock and floating platforms and stuff its amazing when its hot out

the dr follows kind of an atyd type timeline of events w exceptions

౨ৎ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

that's all pretty much!!! thats a long one lmao sorry abt that but also if y'all knw any younger raspier british fem voiceclaims pls tell me im in the trenches rn trying to find a british vc that dosent sound like shes in bridgerton lmao ok byeeee love u

[mytheoristavenue]

Hello, I was just thinking about your alt band au for mha and I wanted to ask, do you headcanon the guys as sounding like any particular artists? I recall one of your posts stating that they each do vocals to some degree, so I was wondering if you had any thoughts about specific singers or songs that you feel would match their voices/vocal styles.

I've been so excited to answer this! I was actually planning to post about this soon anyways!

Fallen Angels!AU Voice Claims HCs

Summary: Musicians that the guys sound like or are inspired by, as well as their tastes in music!

Warnings: Mentions of music about sex/drugs, mentions of late musicians

Fumikage Tokoyami:

🎤 Of the three, Tokoyami has the deepest voice, speaking and singing wise. However, Shoji's voice goes deeper, but he can't hold lower notes as consistantly as Toko can.

🎤 His voice is increadibly clear and smooth. He lacks the same gravel that the tohers have, but their fans adore him for it. He holds long, passionate notes that taste like melted chocolate.

🎤 Toko is a classically trained baritone, and tends to take his biggest vocal inspirations from many who are as well, though it isn't a requirement. These include but are not limited to Claudio Sanchez of Coheed and Cambria, Amy Lee of Evanescence, and David Draiman of Disturbed.

🎤 As for who he actually sounds like, his voice has been compared to that of Adam Gontier of Three Days Grace more than anyone else. He has also been told he sounds like Benjamin Burnley of Breaking Benjamin. On the tracks that Ojiro takes the lead and Tokoyami raps, he takes after Mike Shinoda of Linkin Park and Fort Minor.

🎸 When it comes to guitar, he's increadibly well rounded, being able to play accousitc, electric, and bass with not only ease but extreme skill. He perfers electric most, just because it's what's easiest to sing with and it garners him the most attention.

🎸 Has a massive guitar collection and is VERY particular about his instruments. Nearly everyone he uses on stage after the hit it big is custom made and he chooses a few to take on tour with him so none of them get too used. His favorite two are a red flying V electric that fades to black at the tips, and a black bass with indigo feathers airbrushed up the side.

🎸 When it comes to inspirations, he craves complicated solos, and looks to Claudio Sanchez of Coheed and Cambria and James Hetfield of Metallica. Though Tokoyami isn't as into classic rock as Shoji is, he has taken a liking to the dramatic solos that Metallica is known for, and he's caught himself staying up for days trying to learn riffs like 'Welcome Home', by Coheed and Cambria.

🎧 Out of the three of them, Tokoyami enjoys the heaviest music and the darkest themes. He's a bit of a gatekeeper when it comes to bands he likes, so he'll for sure make sure he knows all their most underground songs. He likes raw, unfiltered anger and emotion in his music. He's not particularly interested in the 'sex, drugs' and rock n' roll' type of lifestyle, so it doesn't interest his taste in music either. He prefers depressing, thought-provoking lyrics, but he can overlook vulgar words if he likes the instrumentals.

🎧 Ranging from heaviest to lightest, his preferences are:

Rammstein

Rob Zombie

Coheed and Cambria

Three Days Grace

Skillet

Breaking Benajim

Flyleaf

Evanessance

Paramore

Mezo Shoji:

🎤 Shoji actually has the highest voice in the group, but Ojiro is a very close second. He also has a surprising range, dipping even lower than Tokoyami's with the same high note limit as Ojiro. His voice has significant gravel, even in his normal speaking voice.

🎤 Because of his quirk, he can duplicate more mouths for a small choir-like effect, which lets them all harmonize beautifully. It also makes their overall sound really unique and recognizable as the band tries to utilize Shoji for reprises, bridges, and choruses as often as possible.

🎤 They also like that they need to use less technical effects to match their studio recorded music while playing live because they don't have to record over their voices to get the effect like most other musicians. Shoji did it himself in the studio, and he loves doing it onstage even more.

🎤 Shoji doesn't tend to put much stock into who he wants to sound like, since he does the least amount of singing of the three. He mostly just repeats what the others say or gives background feedback. However, he is a big fan of classic rock and he really digs vocal twang. One of his biggest vocal inspirations is Dave Mustaine of Megadeth. He likes to practice calls and responses with himself, especially when he drums and Sweating Bullets is one of his favorite songs to do that to. Often times during downtime in rehearsal which Ojiro and Tokoyami are songwriting, Shoji starts in on the drums to the song saying: "Well me, it's nice talkin' to myself," with a big grin while one of his dupli-mouths says: "A credit to dementia."

🎤 As for what Shoji actually sounds like, he is perfect for that gravelly, cocky dad-rock vibe. He's been compared to Matt Walst of My Darkest Days and Three Days Grace, as well as Johnny Vanderhoven of Good with Grenades.

🥁 Just like with his vocals, Shoji takes full advantage of his quirk when it comes to drumming. He has an incredibly complex setup with multiple snares, kick drums, and symbols. He doesn't tend to you more than two pairs of sticks at a time so he can still sing, but for a few songs with especially complicated solos, he's been known to use up to three or even four.

🥁 Almost never uses the same pair of sticks twice. Not only does he lose them, but he snaps them very frequently. He keeps extra pairs near him, stuck in crevices between drums and stuck down the back of his shirt so he can toss the broken ones behind his head and reach back for new ones seamlessly. He also loves tossing them into the audience or giving them to cute groupies after shows.

🥁 He absolutely loves performing and all the attention that being a rockstar gets him. He was at first very reserved, but when he realized how many fans he- not just the band as a whole- had, he was instantly addicted to it. He contanstly shows off to his fans, spending his free time on the bus or backstage teaching himself tricks like twirling his sticks in his fingers.

🥁 Just like with vocals, he doesn't so much take inspiration from other drummers but, by far his favorite is Josh Eppard of Coheed and Cambria. He admires his skill and outlook on the rockstar life, and has spent weeks trying to learn certain parts in his songs.

🎧 Shoji really likes anything fun. He's not as stuck up about lyrics as Tokoyami and Ojiro are. He likes music about sex and drugs, even though he's not acutally that experienced in the former and would never be tempted with the latter. His playlist matches that of a divorced dad.

🎧 Ranging for heaviest to lightest, this is what he likes:

Rob Zombie

Megadeth

Metallica

Coheed and Cambria

Three Days Grace

Van Halen

K.I.S.S.

ACDC

My Darkest Days

Nickleback

Mashirao Ojrio:

🎤 Ojrio has the second highest voice in the group, after Shoji but he can hold high notes a lot longer than he can. He also has a really nice screaming voice that has a lot of passion behind it, and a significant gavel that gets raspier the louder he gets. When he's just casually singing or singing something other than rock, he has a really pretty, soothing voice.

🎤 Ojrio didn't sing at all at first seeing as Tokoyami was already the lead singer of the band, and Shoji can do backups with his quirk. But, when it was discovered how naturally talented he was, the others insisted he sing at least occasionally. Now, him and Tokoyami write at least two songs on every album where he takes the spotlight.

🎤 Despite being the lead singer on a few tracks, he still perfers to do duets with Tokoyami, because the thought of all the attention being on him scares him to bits. Though he'd never admit it, he does slowly begin to fall in love with the publicity off it all over time. He loves screaming a chorus and having the crowd echo it with just as much enthusiasm. And from the frint of the stage, he can see the audience better, its such a good time. He can't handle it all the time though, so he's content with his few minutes of fame before going back to the side lines.

🎤 His biggest inspirations, by far are Chester Bennington of Linkin Park and Marcus Mumford of Mumford and Sons. Luckily for him, these are also the voices he's compared to most often. Ojrio has the skill of matching his voice extremely well to others', so with practice, he was able to make his voice similar to his inspirations.

🎸 Ojiro doesn't really take as much of an interest in inspiration when it comes to the instruments he plays, but as for bass, Tokoyami got him into the lighter side of Coheed and Cambria's music and he fell in love with Zach Zooper's style of playing immediately. He listened to 'Number City' relentlessly for days on repeat, obsessed with the basslines and trying to recreat them.

🎸 Though he doesn't use the skills much in the band, Ojiro can actually play quite a few string instruments including bass, acoustic, and electric guitar (though not as well as Tokoyami can), cello, violin, and banjo. He learned classical strings in elementary school where he was placed in an orchestra class. His mother wanted him to learn violin, but he always performed the cello, he was very talented with each, though. In middle school, he had a folk-rock phase where he became obsessed with Mumford and Sons. That led him to learning the banjo, which is his favorite instrument by far.

🎧 Ojrio has by far the lightest taste in music of the three, perferring softer, catchier tunes with deeper meanings behind the lyrics. He likes songs that make him think about real world problems and make him feel empowered to face them at the same time.

🎧 From heaviest to lightest, his favorite bands are:

Coheed and Cambria

Three Days Grace

Breaking Benjamin

Poor Man's Poison

Linkin Park

Of Monsters and Men

Mumford and Sons

Fish in a Birdcage

Hozier

So sorry this took so long to finish! I wanted to think each one of them out heavily since this is one of the first big things I've posted for the AU! I'm always excited to talk about this AU so if anyone has any questions please drop them in my inbox!

[pigeartpng]

TCOPTP has me in a chokehold, @motswolo the author you are 🙏

Anyway here's band AU James!! But tcoptp's version

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 03 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3.9k

You were close, maybe too close, but he didn't really care, not with the beer making everything feel softer, fuzzier. He'd been seeing you all day, even when you weren't around. You were everywhere, and it just made him more fascinated by you. Fuck. Maybe he really was lonely.

✦ warnings and tags: jason newsted x reader, age gap (23/38), no use of y/n, slow burn, grumpy/sunshine dynamics maybe?, reader has a backstory and it's kinda tragic, a bit of angst, eventual smut in future parts, drinking

You and Jason didn’t talk much on the way home. After saying goodbye, he couldn’t help but think about how easily he had hugged you, holding you close to try and lift your sadness, even if just for a moment.

Jason had to admit you intrigued him; you were kind and friendly, and clearly loved by everyone around you, which in a way was the opposite of what he felt about himself, having quit Metallica feeling like he was no more than a spare tire that his bandmates couldn’t bring themselves to care about. 

No, he was being unfair. He had built quite the friendship with Kirk over the years, but Lars and James — especially James — were tough to deal with. He could still remember the fights, how they'd laugh and mock him, and the way James acted like he owed them everything — his time, his obedience, his loyalty. But it was never enough.

Would it ever be enough if he had stayed?

Maybe that’s why he didn’t regret quitting. He didn’t regret leaving everything behind to start fresh somewhere new, somewhere people didn’t know him. And after seeing the way you looked at him, curious but never judgmental, he couldn’t help but think he’d made the right call.

Because if no one knew who he was, no one could hate him for leaving.

The next time he saw you was Monday morning. He was brewing some coffee for breakfast when you walked past his house, your hair in a ponytail and your bike by your side. He smiled softly as you went by, letting out a small sigh when he realized the weekend was over. He knew he’d better start working on his new songs soon, or else he’d have nothing to show his producer the next time he went to LA.

Working on a solo project was the most fun Jason had in a long time. Being creative was such a big part of who he was, a part that had been ignored and dismissed during his years with his old band. He felt freer now that he could focus on the whirlwind of ideas he had in his own brain, now that he could get lost in his own music, with no other noise to take him away from it.

The morning flew by as he worked on his new songs. Writing them on his own was tough but rewarding. Jason knew he'd eventually need to recruit some musicians for his solo project, but he wanted a solid idea in place before teaming up with anyone. For now, he just wanted to enjoy the process alone, and that’s what he did — at least until his stomach started rumbling.

Lunchtime already, he sighed, glancing at his watch. At least I had a productive morning.

He got up, placed his bass guitar in its case, and grabbed his keys, deciding to head out for some lunch. He knew he wouldn’t have many options in such a small town, unlike back in LA where he could find anything he wanted, but that didn’t bother him. He thought about inviting you for lunch for a moment, then shook his head with a sigh. You barely knew each other, and besides, you weren’t home. Sometimes, Jason had to remind himself that people were usually busy during weekdays; you’d probably be working, too busy to hang out with some boring old guy like him.

Jason wasn’t really old, but he sure felt like it these days. Just a year before, he would have been living a life completely different from these calm, peaceful days in Oak Ridge. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the energy, the electricity of playing to thousands of people, and the chaos of backstage life — the booze, the drugs, the girls, the fights. But mostly, he remembered how tired he used to feel.

He ended up going to Joe’s Diner again for lunch, raising an eyebrow in surprise at how packed the place was. It was a totally different scene from the empty diner he'd visited with you the day before; now, it was buzzing with laughter and conversation, and the sweet smell of food filled the air. He tried to ignore the curious looks he got as he walked in, but being a stranger in a place where everybody knew everybody still felt better somehow than being a public figure.

“Afternoon,” Maggie smiled as she walked by, pouring Jason some fresh coffee as he sat at the counter.

“Busy day?” Jason grinned.

“The usual,” Maggie said, handing him the menu. “You just caught us at lunchtime. Small town diners, you know?”

“I don’t, actually,” he chuckled, and she raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Before this, I lived in LA.”

“That’s quite the change of pace, huh?” Maggie remarked, before glancing over as someone called for her. “Sorry, I’ll be back to take your order in a minute.”

He was debating whether to go for the same burger with fries he had the day before or maybe try something new when the boy walked in.

He looked around your age, with dark hair, his brown eyes in dark circles and lips curled down in a worried expression. Jason didn’t really pay much attention to the way he scanned the place, seemingly searching for someone before striding over to Maggie, not until he heard him say your name, say he had to talk to you.

“She already told you she doesn’t want to see you, Ethan,” Maggie frowned, and Jason raised an eyebrow as the boy groaned in frustration. “You should give her some space. She didn’t even come in for lunch today.”

“I gotta talk to her, Maggie, but she won’t listen!” he said, trying to keep his voice down but failing. Jason could see the way some people tried to pretend they weren’t listening, even though it was obvious they were paying attention to the small commotion Ethan was causing. 

The old small town gossip, Jason scoffed, unable to ignore how he was also tuned into the drama. He frowned, pondering what role that boy would play in your life, slightly annoyed by his persistence with Maggie. You were such a sweet girl; Jason found it hard to believe you'd shut someone out without a good reason.

“I’m sure she’ll talk to you when she’s ready, but you gotta give her some space,” Maggie said firmly. “Now, you gonna order something? I’m swamped here, kid.”

Ethan glanced around, his face flushing when he saw how crowded the diner was. He shook his head and stormed out. Jason watched him go, trying to ignore the curiosity rising in his mind.

“Sorry about that,” Maggie sighed. “What can I get you?”

“Um, yeah, I’ll take the meatloaf, please,” Jason replied. Maggie nodded, refilling his coffee cup before heading to the kitchen.

After lunch, as Jason drove home, he found himself thinking about you once more. You seemed to be everywhere, even when you weren’t around. The more he thought about you, the more he saw the layers of your complexity, revealing someone he couldn’t help but feel drawn to.

He found himself wondering about your relationship with Ethan, what your history with him entailed, and what had upset you so much. He hadn’t seen you upset yet, not really, just a bit sad, and he wondered how much of that sadness you let others see. Would it be easier to open up to someone you didn’t know well? Would it help if he assured you he was willing to listen if you ever needed to talk?

He scoffed. What was he thinking? You two hardly knew each other, and you were so much younger than him, clearly more innocent and less experienced in life. He didn’t know what you liked, who you wanted to become, or what dreams you had. It wasn’t really his business, anyway.

But still, he wanted to know. He wanted to understand you.

He was distracted from his thoughts by one of those traffic boards at the crossroads, the kind that points out where all the important spots in town are. This one had a few names on it, with arrows showing which way to go: Church, School, Main Street, Recreation Club.

The Recreation Club. Jason remembered how you talked about it, like you really missed it, a hint of sadness in your voice that surprised him coming from someone so young. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to take the street that led to the place. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to explore somewhere new, right? Maybe it’d be a good spot to relax, meet some locals, or even find inspiration for his songs.

He drove for a while along a road flanked by trees, admiring the view as the houses became more and more sparse. This was something else he wasn’t used to, how much nature was all around in this town, surrounding everything. It was no wonder the place felt so secluded.

After some minutes, Jason finally pulled up to the entrance of the Recreation Club. Like everything else he'd seen in Oak Ridge so far, the place seemed like it had its heyday a few decades back, with faded paint on the walls and a few tiles missing from the entrance path. Still, it was clear they kept it well maintained — grass neatly mowed, a couple of flower bushes trimmed into squares by the main door.

He stepped into the reception area, a basic room with wooden benches and a counter. A young girl sat behind it, flipping through a magazine. She had dark hair with a single blue stripe and a round face. When Jason walked in, she glanced up, raising an eyebrow with curiosity.

"Afternoon," Jason greeted with a small smile.

"Hey," she replied, closing the magazine and setting it aside as she stood up. "Can I help you with anything?"

"I'm new in town," he explained. "Thought it might be nice to join the club, you know?"

"Oh, you're the new guy?" she asked, and Jason blinked in surprise.

"The new guy?" he echoed, slightly amused. The girl chuckled softly.

"The guy who's come to live in this isolated hell hole? You know, people talk. Besides, I'm friends with your neighbor."

She was definitely talking about you — who else could it be? Jason chuckled softly, pondering if you had mentioned him to your friends and what you might have said. The idea of you being as curious about him as he was about you made his lips curl up in an involuntary little smile.

“Well, yeah, I’m the new guy. Name’s Jason, nice to meet you,” he introduced himself.

“I’m Sophie. So, you’re liking the town so far?” she asked, leaning on the counter with genuine interest sparkling in her eyes. God, young folks here are just eager for anything new, aren’t they?, he thought. 

"Yeah, it's a pretty peaceful place," he replied with a smile. "So, do I need any specific paperwork to join the club?"

"Oh, nothing special. Just some ID and our membership form to fill out," Sophie explained.

"And if I wanted to cover someone else's membership fee, would that work?" Jason asked, an idea forming in his mind. He wasn't sure why the thought of paying for your subscription popped up, but honestly, that was the whole reason he’d come there, right? It's not like he was dying to join the club himself, and money wasn't an issue for him anyway. But he knew it could make a difference for you.

"Oh, I think that should be fine, as long as the fee is paid," Sophie replied, and Jason nodded.

"Can you give me an extra copy of the membership form? I'll just get my... friend's info filled out before I bring it back," Jason asked. 

"Sure thing. Just make sure your friend comes along for a photo and so we can make a copy of your IDs," Sophie replied, handing him two sheets of paper. 

"Thanks, kid. Catch you later," Jason smiled before heading out.

He got back to his car with a sigh, taking a quick look at the two paper sheets. As expected, there were two copies of the registration form, asking for basic info like name, age, and address. They detailed the membership fee, which, as he expected, wasn't a big deal — at least not to him. No need for references or recommendation letters from other members, unlike those exclusive elite LA clubs. Life really was simpler here.

Jason wasn’t naive; he knew having money didn’t mean he could help everyone, and he didn’t really want to intrude into your life, to put himself into the role of a savior. But you had been nothing but kind to him from the start. If he could make things a bit easier for you, he was more than willing to do it.

The rest of his day was spent unpacking. It was a good distraction, sorting through boxes and setting things in place. Yet, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t shake the anticipation of seeing you again. What would your reaction be when you saw the registration form? Would you appreciate the gesture? Or would you turn it down? Maybe you’d think he was just being weird. Honestly, he wouldn’t blame you if you did.

It was a side of him he hadn’t seen in ages, not since before his days as a rockstar. The more famous Metallica became, the harder it was for Jason to forge genuine connections with people who didn’t see him through the lens of his fame. Everyone knew him as the Metallica guy, and that carried certain expectations and privileges. His fame was like a backstage pass that got him whatever he wanted, but he missed the simplicity of getting to know people for who they truly were.

But you were different. You were the first person in a long time who had no idea who he was, who didn’t treat him like a celebrity at all. Maybe he was just feeling lonely — the thought made him roll his eyes, cheeks flushing slightly.

Night fell, and your place was still empty, porch light on just like you used to leave it when you weren’t around. Jason got bored of whatever was on TV real quick and figured he'd head out again. He'd spotted this bar on Main Street earlier; he wasn't really up for drinking on a Monday, but figured it beat sitting alone all night.

Main Street wasn’t all that far from home; he decided to walk this time instead of driving, and he made it there quicker than he thought. The moon was full up there, its shine kinda dimmed by the streetlights, and a few stores were still open. He spotted the bar, grinning a bit at the weathered sign, a classic Eagle drawing matching the bar’s name, Eagle’s Nest.

He stepped inside, the brisk night air being replaced by a welcome warmth. The place was small, but neat. A few tables were taken, with a football game blaring on the TV. It was still early, so the place was pretty empty. He scoped it out, thinking about grabbing a seat at the counter, and blinked in surprise when he spotted you, laughing softly as you talked to one of the regulars.

You looked beautiful in your pretty waitress getup, hair tied back loose with a tray of beers in hand. Everywhere I look, there she is, Jason mused, a small spark of delight fluttering in his chest. He stood there, just watching you for a moment, and couldn’t help but smile when your eyes met. You seemed a bit surprised to see him, but still flashed a smile, nodding toward the counter as you made your way over. Jason followed, taking a seat.

“Welcome to Eagle’s Nest, Mr. Newsted. You finally got tired of small-town life and decided to seek some excitement?" you teased, and Jason chuckled. You were adorable, bright eyes sparkling with kindness and a familiarity that made him feel like you were old friends.

"Who said I was bored?" he shot back. You laughed softly.

"Sophie mentioned you swung by the Rec Club this afternoon. Figured you'd be scouting for something to do," you remarked casually. He raised an eyebrow. Word sure traveled fast in this neck of the woods.

"So, has everyone been gossiping about the new guy or is it you just trying to crack the mystery?" he smirked, and you chuckled, cheeks tinted with a blush.

"It's a small town. People talk," you replied.

"Yeah, I've heard," he nodded.

"So, what can I get you?" you asked, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Just a beer, please," Jason said. You nodded, grabbing him a bottle.

"You working the night shift?" he inquired.

"Yeah, Mondays and Fridays here," you answered. "Plus my day gig at the flower shop."

"You're a hard worker, kid. Maybe you should take it easy," he remarked, and you chuckled.

"It's all good. Just got a couple more hours and then I'm heading home for a nice, long, hot shower," you sighed.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice seeing you still on your feet after starting so early.

"Yeah, had a salad and fries," you replied. Jason raised an eyebrow.

"That's not the healthiest meal."

"Salad's healthy!" you laughed, and Jason smiled. You glanced up as the bar door swung open and a group of older guys strolled in. "Sorry, I'll be right back," you said.

"Don't worry about me, go do your thing," he reassured you.

The next couple of hours flew by in a flash; the bar filled up nicely as time ticked on. Jason wasn’t surprised when a few folks sidled up for a chat — curiosity seemed to be a common trait around town, probably 'cause not much new ever happened. He sipped a couple more beers and some water, not keen on waking up with a headache the next day, all the while getting to know some locals: Frank Masters, an older guy from the police station, and Greg Smith, Sophie’s dad who’d swung by after work.

Folks were friendly, eager to chat and share their stories. But even as Jason mingled and made new acquaintances, his eyes kept drifting back to you. You were buzzing around like a busy bee, looking after tables, serving drinks and snacks, always with a smile.

As the night wound down, the crowd thinned out. People were heading home early to catch some shut-eye before another workday. You began clearing empty glasses and plates, taking them back to the kitchen while Jason bid farewell to the guys he'd been talking to.

"You ready to call it a night?" he asked as you refilled his water glass. You flashed a smile.

"Almost, still gotta shut things down," you replied.

"Want me to hang around and wait for you?" he offered, the beers loosening his tongue a bit. You hesitated, biting your lip.

"You don't have to wait on me," you said finally. "I'll be here a while."

"I can stick around, if you want," he offered.

"Okay," you nodded, cheeks flushed as you headed back to the kitchen. Jason hung back while you and your coworkers closed shop, tidying tables, mopping floors, washing dishes, and turning off the TV. After a trip to the bathroom, you returned in fresh clothes, your hair down.

"You ready to roll?" Jason asked, and you nodded. He walked out as you said your goodbyes to your coworkers, then watched you retrieve your bike from the bar's little backyard.

The walk home was quiet; Jason didn't quite know what to say, noticing the slight flush in your cheeks whenever your eyes met his. He wanted to ask about your day, about what went down while he was away. But was it really his business? A weird sort of shyness crept over both of you, the easy vibe from the bar now a distant memory.

You both arrived at your place, and he walked you to the door, the quiet still hanging between you as you leaned your bike against the porch railing.

"Thanks for walking me home," you said softly.

"No problem," he replied, then paused before calling your name. You glanced at him, curious. 

"I swung by the Club today," he started.

"I know," you replied with a smile, and Jason chuckled.

"Yeah, well... I couldn't help noticing how much it means to you. So…” he hesitated. “I asked Sophie, and she said it's cool to pay for someone else’s fee. Would you maybe want to come with me tomorrow? I could get you signed up as a member.”

You blinked, clearly caught off guard, and Jason cursed himself for bringing it up now. Maybe it would've been better to mention it the next morning when he wasn't a bit fuzzy from a couple of beers, when his thoughts would be clearer. When he could explain he would be doing this just as a friendly gesture, with no hopes of having anything in return.

"This ain't a transaction," he clarified, and you raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you don't owe me anything for this, alright? Just think of it as a friend helping out."

"You'd really do that?" you asked quietly. "Mr. Newsted, I... You don't need to spend your money on me."

"Don't sweat about the money," he reassured, his hand gently brushing against your hair. He’d never say it like that, but it’s true he had way more cash than he knew what to do with. 

"Are we... friends then?" you asked, and he chuckled, caught off guard.

"What?"

"You said to think of it as a friend helping out," you replied with a small smile. "So..."

"Yeah, of course. That's what friends do, right? They look out for each other," he said, making you laugh softly. "Look, you don't have to say yes if you don't want to. But I saw how down you were yesterday after talking about your parents, and... I wanted to help."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to," he whispered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Will you think about it? I can take you there tomorrow morning before work, if you want. Is it okay?"

"Okay. I'll think about it," you said, your cheeks turning the cutest shade of pink when he gently took your chin in his hand. You were close, maybe too close, but he didn't really care, not with the beer making everything feel softer, fuzzier. He'd been seeing you all day, even when you weren't around. You were everywhere, and it just made him more fascinated by you.

Fuck. Maybe he really was lonely.

"Thanks," he whispered, letting his hand drop to his side. "Talk to you tomorrow, then?"

"Yeah.”

"Okay. Goodnight," he said, turning to leave.

"Mr. Newsted," you called out, and he stopped, looking back at you with curious eyes. You stood on the warmly lit porch, arms wrapped around yourself, a small smile playing on your lips. 

"What is it?" he asked, stepping closer to you.

"It's just... thanks," you said simply. "See you tomorrow, right?"

It felt like neither of you wanted to say goodbye, and he couldn't help but wonder how you'd react if he told you he actually didn't.

"Yeah. Goodnight, dear."

He couldn't help but notice the way you smiled when he called you that, the way you bit your lower lip softly. It made him want to say it again, just to see how you’d react.

"Goodnight, Jason," you said back, and he smiled softly before heading home.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

[lorelite333]

Musician AU Headcannons for the Redacted Cast

(if you know me, no you dont. ik i said i would post it sooner, but i lied- i never post here but its wtvs, credits to Moxy for the question) Shaw Pack David, Milo, Asher, and Christian are a band; they make music similar to Arctic Monkey Christian is that one bass guy who people call controversial and has issues with teamwork, but the team loves him anyways and he tries Milo used to do more indie folk music, like Noah Khan but branches out into more of a Hozier (the growls- sorry ur girl dying here) The band used to be a garage band before everything started, David is lead, Milo is vocals/guitarist, Asher is drummer, and Christian is the bassist. DAMN Crew Freelancer used to be a choir kid, which sprouted them into doing contemporary music in their early years but gave up on it for their dream profession. Their music was just a hobby and they knew it would never go mainstream.

Damien was a band kid, he'd be take a lot of inspiration from Ghost or The Googoo Dolls

Huxley would totally be into drums, but it never got far enough into his hyperfixation to actually become a focusing hobby, let alone a profession.

House of Solaire (ft. Baz)

Vincent & Porter would take inspo from Evanscense and The Frays, they were a duo but had a falling out which caused them to stop their music careers and focus on their own things. William used to play the violin and cello, but stopped when he became a vamp Alexis was a ghost singer, she would sing for an old friend of hers until they double crossed her. She vowed to never sing another note for those who dont deserve her voice. Baz can play electric guitar, not for any professional reason, but they learned for a hobby and even played in few local shows, but never took it any farther. Sovereign State Avior used to actually CRUSH with his vocals and guitar skills, he was really popular before he "went missing", some speculate that his disappearance was staged and covered up by the media, local theorists use his "tragedy" as a way to scare people off. He's called The Rockstar Poltergeist.

Contemporary (ft. Anton, James, and Geordi) Geordi plays the ukelele, taking inspiration from TheBoyWithUke Anton and James used to play acoustic guitar, and did a few local shows as well but kept it lowkey. It was never supposed to be something to impress people. Guy and Honey were a duo, I personally think they strive towards something like Willow or Halsey. Ollie used to busk during his teenage years, playing at small cafés

(I got lazy tryna tag everything- anyways you can use my box to ask my any questions and I'll give you my headcannons!!)

[sapphic-saints]

Intro Post!

Hey y'all, it's DORCAS!!

If you haven't heard of me: I'm Dorcas Meadowes, the guitarist/backup vocalist for Pantheon. I play electric and acoustic guitar. If you've got any questions about our band, hit me up!

I am:

➣ 18 years old

➣ proudly lesbian

➣ a demi-girl (she/they)

➣ African-American

A little about my URL (sapphic-saints):

The saints part is because my namesake is a Christian saint. I grew up Catholic, and was named after Dorcas/Tabitha, a disciple of Jesus and the patron saint of seamstresses and tailors. During her life, she sewed clothing for those in need. When she died, the village widows showed Saint Peter some of the clothes she'd made as evidence of her charity, and he reincarnated her as a saint.

The sapphic part is for two reasons; one is because I'm a lesbian and thought it would be funny, but the other is a nod to Sappho, the Greek poet. Sappho was a bisexual woman who lived on the island of Lesbos between 630 BCE and 570 BCE. (The word sapphic comes from her name.) Dorcas means gazelle in Greek, which is why I chose a Greek poet as part of my URL.

My bandmates/bffs:

@astronomic-nerd Reggie <3 <3 the only sane person in our band

@bat-barty-junior Barty, my favourite sleep paralysis demon

@roses-n-bones Evan, probably a psychopath (but who cares??)

@panda-sometimes-preforms Pandora <3 <3 they are an angel who has never ever ever set any studios on fire ;)

Other people:

@jamie-and-co James Potter

@im-not-joking Sirius Black

@remus-moony-lupin Remus Lupin

@petey-p Peter Pettigrew

@notyouraverage-mary Mary Macdonald

@marls-boros-bitch Marlene McKinnon (ugh)

This is a Marauders roleplay blog. If you're racist, misogynist, ableist, transphobic, homophobic, xenophobic, etc. then you'd probably hate me irl, so get out! If you're not, feel free to interact – I love to chat <3

Oh, and if you're also part of this roleplay and you want to post a photo your character 'took' of Dorcas – no problem, just use a photo of Marsai Martin. She's my favourite fancast, I can't see anybody else as Dorcas <3

This blog is run by @fourquartertoast <3