need another job to pay for all this music

anonymous asked:

Human Klaroline. They are together and Caroline is pregnant, and she has a tendency to wander off late at night for odd cravings, and Klaus being a rockstar, often comes home late to find her missing and at their local dim sum restaurant at 2am. Fluff please! And Thank you!

This fluffy drabble was written by our guest writer @wassupworlditskj!

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Klaus loved the buzz he got after a show.

Well – after, during and before.

There was something about the atmosphere of the giant stadium and the millions of adoring fans screaming, cheering and whistling; all of them singing their hearts out as Klaus sang to them.

It felt like just yesterday he’d been singing in a small bar in England, earning nothing but a few drunken claps from the crowd. And now here he was, standing atop a giant stage, his hair drenched with sweat; his guitar heavy in his tired arms.

“Now…” Klaus spoke out to the crowd, his chest rising and falling. “For my last song of the night, it’s a new song I’ve written for my beautiful wife.” When mentioning Caroline, the crowd erupted into masses of applause and cheers. The fans knew and adored Caroline. They connected with her because once upon a time, she had been one of them: a face in the crowd, who loved music and belted out the lyrics with every breath in her body.

The year had been 2011, a time at which Niklaus had had no money to pay his bills nor a job to get the money he needed. All he’d had was a half-empty suitcase and his guitar. He would gravitate from one bar to another, asking for gigs, and each of them had the same answer: no.

That’s how he’d found himself in front of ‘The Grill’, a local bar in a small beat-down town called Mystic Falls. By some miracle they’d let him play that night and, to this day, regardless of the number of performances he’d given, the memory of that one would always stay fresh in his mind.

Somewhere in the middle of his set that night, his eyes had locked on a beautiful blonde with bright eyes and a sweet smile as she swayed to his music. Her name was  Caroline and he’d known she was his soulmate right then and there. Something about her presence had just felt so… right.

And that moment had led Klaus to this one.

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Another Gigolo


Of all the strange things Baal had ever done, and the odd jobs he’d taken in an attempt to get by when his music and poetry failed to bring in the needed cash, he never thought he would become a prostitute. He was the type of man to pay for a whore, and he never even knew men could even take that occupation. What woman would willingly pay for sex? In his experience, not many women exactly enjoyed it, and the only purpose it served was to please the man.

Strangest of all, it had been an older woman who had offered him the job. She had noticed him performing on a street corner and had seen through his haggard appearance to see the handsome man hidden underneath. She told him she had a job opportunity for him. Baal refused at first, as he disliked the soul sucking monotony work but then she clarified that it wasn’t what he thought it was and had given him the address of her agency.

And so Baal had decided he would give it ago. If he didn’t like it, he would just quit. He enjoyed sex anyway, so why not do it for money? So Baal had taken up the offer and visited the agency which was located in a swanky, high class club in Berlin and before he knew it, they had fitted him into a very nice suit and seated him in a private bar to wait for someone who was going to show him the ropes and give him his orientation.

He sipped his schnapps while he waited for his guide to come and meet him. He fidgeted slightly in the suit, his hair still messy and face full of a patchy beard, listening to the muffled jazz and conversation in the main hall of the club. He always felt uncomfortable in places like this and he hadn’t been expecting this agency to be so high brow. Although the woman had never called it prostitution, she said she wanted to hire him as a gigolo. He really didn’t see what the difference was but he just wanted to get off and get paid.

“My wife and I were both on the six figure plan. I was thinking that if I could get to $100,000 a year, I’d be all right. I studied information systems and economics in college. I had a decent paying job at the 311 call center. Every morning I’d wake up early then fall back asleep on the subway. It was like that Groundhog’s Day movie. The ‘deferred life plan’ wasn’t working for me. Everyone kept telling me that all I needed was another master’s degree, or another certification, but I was done with it. So I quit my job and decided to be a musician. I turned off the TV. I turned off the radio. I devoted myself full time to music. I’d never played an instrument before, so I found some YouTube videos that taught me basic chord progressions on guitar and keyboard. I was really bad for a long time. I wondered if I’d made a mistake. But when I listened to the early work of famous musicians like Dr. Dre, they weren’t that good either. I thought: ‘I’m just as smart as them. And they were like me once. So if they got there, so can I.’ I started driving a cab so I could control my own hours. I’d get off at 2 AM and make music until 5 AM, but I’d still wake up happy because life had a purpose now. I called my first album ‘Better Than Fantastic,’ because that’s how it felt. I’ve handed out 10,000 of them. I give one to everyone who rides in the cab.”