-im not sure yet if i’ll post any stories or anything i’ve written stuff in the past but maybe i’ll post something if I get the motivation to begin writing again lol
-idk if im a Bill or a Tom girl it changes a lot
-I looove metal and gothic metal specifically!
-English is NOT my first language and I am dyslexic so deeply sorry for typos
-my style is kinda gothic and I love romantic goth stuff
-looking for moots around the same age as me:)
-if I seem dry it’s my socially akwards self trying to communicate sorry^_^
This is an old story of mine from a few years ago, I just uploaded this and another one of my drafts to my book ln wattpad, decided to share it on here for yall
Silky Voice
I had been working for a few weeks straight, and I was dead tired. I loved my job, but it took up so much time. I mean, of course it would—I knew that when I was getting my degree.
My days were a blur of fabrics: from running around sets measuring people, to sewing for hours until my back ached, to dealing with rich assholes complaining about materials or stitching. Still, I was one of the most hired people in the industry—especially for musicians.
Today, I'd been running all over New York, bouncing between clients, and I finally got a small break to grab some coffee. I ducked into the nearest coffee shop. It was packed. Great.
After a wait, I finally got my latte and sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. I took a few sips—bliss—before my phone rang.
I groaned and picked it up. "What is it? I just sat down."
It was my manager, Joe. I could hear him shuffling papers, clearly in a hurry.
"I have a gig for you. You have to take it. It's for a really popular band, and the lead singer needs a costume by tomorrow."
I sighed, ready to say no.
"They're your age," he added.
That made me perk up. My age? Pretty young for a popular band. But would I pass up the chance to ogle some hot band guys? Hell no.
I headed to the huge station where the band was rehearsing their set, feeling a little excited—and, okay, maybe a bit cocky. It wasn't every day I got to potentially flirt with hot musicians. Usually, it was women asking for the flashy costumes. Guys mostly performed in pretty basic clothes.
I pushed open the heavy metal door, struggling a bit with my bags of equipment. A young guy came up and held the door open for me.
"Thanks," I said, shuffling inside.
As I set the bags down, I glanced over at him. He was kind of short, with blonde hair and glasses. He looked friendly. I snapped out of my staring and offered my hand.
"I'm Y/N, the designer. Are you one of the band members?"
He smiled and shook my hand. "Yes, Gustav. The others are down the hall."
His accent was strong—German, maybe?
He led me down the hall to a room where three guys were lounging around. One of them was sitting on a couch reading some papers while someone set up his sound system. He had silky long brown hair.
But it was the other two who caught my attention. Both were tall—and ridiculously good looking. The perfect mix of masculine and feminine. The taller one leaned more into the feminine: eyeliner, boots, neatly styled hair and nails. The other guy wore overly baggy clothes, a scarf, and a beanie, hands stuffed into his pockets.
I snapped out of it and greeted them professionally. "Hi, Y/N. Who needed the costume?"
The guy in the baggy clothes smirked, pointing at the taller one. "Yeah, thanks for coming. This princess here wants a sparkly costume by Monday."
I almost laughed but held it in. Time to focus.
I set my bags down and looked up at the guy I was going to measure. He looked like a model—tall, slim, and so, so pretty. It was a little distracting.
I held up the measuring tape and jotted down notes as he told me what he wanted: a black, sparkly bodysuit with shoulder decorations. It was going to be a long few nights making that for him, but he was so sweet I couldn't say no.
The next few days, I visited the guys to fit the costume on him—Bill, that was his name. We chatted a bit, and he was just as sweet as he looked. I tried not to get too distracted by his eyes, lips, and nose... but come on. He was stunning. I accepted that.
The night of the concert came, and I got to watch from backstage. I'd never actually heard them play until then—but wow. The show was incredible. Bill's voice was angelic, the band was a hit, and my costume held up perfectly. A win all around.
The night ended with a few drinks. Then a few more. And eventually, a trip to Bill's hotel room.
Life as a designer wasn't that bad after all;)
Read Silky Voice from the story Tokio Hotel oneshots by milaaxxxxxx with 3 reads. tokiohotel. I had been working for a...
Okayy so idk really how tumbrl works, i’ve had this account forever but never really posted anything, but im looking for some moots:) My friend group is literally falling apart and im like 18 with no friends or social life so ended up here welp
