#♪ musician

[the-pessimists-paradigm]

[youmakemerock]

↟ REB BEACH ↟

[soulsolid-a]

thinks ab the swordsman aspect of brook's character a lot actually,

[southernchaerm]

hit the ♡ for a starter. length will vary. if you are a multimuse, please comment with the muse you want the starter for.

[alygator77]

♬♪ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : beat of my heart ♬♪

♬ pairing. college au // drummer! gojo x psychology major! reader (f)

♬ summary. being a psychology major with a passion for music, you're no stranger to chaos—between juggling school, caring for your mother, and working at a local music shop, you've learned to keep your cool. but when a cocky drummer pushes your patience to the limit, a chance encounter with satoru gojo—an enigmatic, sharp-tongued musician—turns your world upside down. as you're drawn to his dangerous charm, an unexpected connection deepens, but so do the secrets you've both been running from. will you get caught up in his rhythm before you realize it’s too late?

♬ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, slow burn, smut, angst with comfort, some fluff, readers mom has dementia, mentions of suicide, alcohol/weed usage, unresolved trauma, commitment issues

♬ words: tbd (will likely be long bc i yap)

♬ a/n. hi lovelies. this is a rewrite of my first work! i've been wanting to revisit this story for a while, especially now that i've started to explore what my own writing style is :') this fic is definitely gonna touch on some darker topics, buuuuut it'll still have a happy ending bc my heart cannot handle too much pain and satoru deserves happiness (i love him too much). i will update tags as the story progresses. tysm for reading ♡

♬ taglist: open

♬ series tags #beat of my heart #bomh

♬ chapters

ch 1 // the first measure

ch 2 // pending...

ch 3 // pending...

ch 4 // pending...

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠 𝗕𝗢𝗬 carlos sainz jr. x singer! reader (fluff) “. . . there's no reason to hide after word gets out that carlos is dating a musician.”

( general master list | more of carlos sainz ) ( requests )

y.ln

liked by carlossainz55 kakiara and 35.6k others y.ln had a wonderful night at vancouver, thank you for having me ❤️

user you were amazing out there y/n!

user i miss her already, can't wait to see her again soon ↳ user luckyy i wanna go😭

user carlos thinking he can hide in the comments ↳ user we see you carlos 👀 ↳ user sh! you'll scare him off!

user y/n singing dream boy means everything to me ↳ user means more knowing carlos was in the crowd listening ↳ user mans got good taste

user not y/n fans discovering f1 bc of carlos ↳ user we can't gatekeep him anymore😔 ↳ user WE CAN'T GATEKEEP THE WHOLE GRID ANYMORE, THET'RE COMING FOR LANDO AND CHARLES NEXT ↳ user 😭

C² Challenge | Quickfire Games with Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz!

carlossainz55 posted a story, carlossainz55 deleted a story, carlossainz55 posted a story to close friends

youruser posted a story

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

voice notes 🔊 . . . ( fighting my adhd med's forced non creativity with smaus, WHY DID THIS TAKE ME SO LONG (i need dopamine, does anyone have some spare for me plz?)

[yuurei20]

Dialogue Comparison: Playfulland (Chapter 1)

Proofreading by the wonderful @/aoi-hitomi-50 ♡

Original Ace: Tch. You don't want to treat your cute underclassman to something~?

EN Ace: Tch. C'mon, can't you do somethin' nice for your plucky underclassman?

(It’s not uncommon for the word “cute” to be removed from dialogue on EN.)

Original Fellow: My name is Fellow Honest. This here is my protégé Gidel.

EN Fellow: I am Ernesto Foulworth. And this here's my bosom buddy, Gino.

Original Fellow: Those who are close to me even call me things like 'Honest John'.

EN Fellow: Some of my closest friends have taken to calling me Honest Ernesto!

Original Jack: Hey, Fellow-san clearly seems older than us, and you're suddenly calling him without honorifics?

EN Jack: Whoa, hey. Mr. Foulworth's clearly way older than us. You can't just go around calling him by his first name.

(It’s fun to track the creative solutions EN creates for when characters make “yobisute” comments! Also seen in Harveston with Idia and Sebek.)

Original Kalim: They're all colorful and shiny, so pretty~.

EN Kalim: They're all colorful and sparkly!

(EN also removed the word “beautiful/pretty” from multiple places in Kalim’s dialogue in the Cloudcalling event.)

Original Ace: ...the Housewarden is going to give me the scolding of a lifetime.

EN Ace: ...the headmage would be royally ticked.

(“Housewarden” is consistently changed to “headmage” in Epel’s dialogue, so it’s difficult to tell if this is a mistake or an intentional change.)

Original Ortho: I'm always telling my brother 'Go to class!' too, so skipping might not be good.

EN Ortho: My brother always says I should go to class, I don't think skipping would be a good idea.

(Possibly subject pronoun confusion on EN? Which sometimes happens! More here)

Original Floyd: Yeah, you know~ Usually you're a shore crab, but today you're like a spider crab.

EN Floyd: Y'know, it's true! You're normally a mitten crab, but today you're more like a fiddler crab.

The Japanese word for “spider crab” literally means “long-legged crab” in Japanese, which led to this comment from Ace in the original game:

Original Ace: What's with that comparison... I don't really get it, but if you mean my legs look long, I guess I don't mind~♪

EN Ace: Those analogies make no sense… but I guess if you're saying I look like a dapper musician, I'll take it.

(It’s not unusual for references to characters having long legs to be removed from EN, also seen in Book 5, Book 6 and a vignette.)

[pukanavis]

Kanna Idol Story 3

⏱︎ 2 years since the establishment of ES. ⚲ Season Avenue, a shopping district on the outskirts of the ES building.

Raika: ♪~♪~♪

Kanna: …

Raika: ~...♪

Kanna: …

Raika: …’Scuse me, did ya need somethin’ from me?

Kanna: …

Raika: Can ya hear me? Hellooo?

Kanna: Ah, pardon me. I was lost in my thoughts for a moment there.

Though, what I should really say is that outwardly expressing my emotions is not a strong suit of mine.

Oftentimes, interviewers will get worried and halt our conversation just to ask if I’m still alive.

Raika: Ehihi~♪

Kanna: Is there something amusing about that?

Raika: Uh, ya mean that wasn’t supposed to be a joke?

Kanna: Humour is a skill that I lack, as much as it pains me to admit.

Raika: Hey, ya seem plenty funny to me… yer a bit of an odd one, Mr, uh…Kanna, was it?

Kanna: Yes, that’s correct. I’m glad you remembered my name.

To my dismay, it seemed that you had forgotten all about me.

Raika: I’m real, real sorry! With this bird-brain of mine, my memories go out the window after just a few steps, ya see!

Actually, I get the feelin’ that we’ve spoken about this already…Kanna-sama, do ya really swear that I’ve saved ya before?

Kanna: You remembered our conversation perfectly then? I wouldn’t describe that as ‘bird-brained’. It seems rather contradictory—No, that’s not it. This is just a simple mistake, isn’t it?

Raika: Well ya see, it was quite the shock to have ya approach me out of the blue like that. It’s really quite hard to forget somethin’ so jaw-droppin’, even if I wanted to.

Kanna: I agree.

That’s precisely why it’s simply impossible for me to ever forget you, the one who saved me. 

Though to be fair, I possess the sort of brain that makes it a challenge to delete memory data, so the past isn’t something that I have the option to forget.

Raika: Deary me…it’s much nicer bein’ able to forget about all the bad stuff.

Kanna: Without learning from the mistakes and humiliation of the past, a human being cannot hope to grow.

Granted, what comes after growth is a mystery all of its own. Is there a limit? Why pursue it? What benefit comes from it?

This act of exhausting my life to ultimately contribute to the evolution of the human race is something I’ve always found myself questioning the purpose of.

Raika: ♪~♪~♪

Kanna: Are you listening?

Raika: Oh, I didn’t think your story had anythin’ to do with me…somethin’ about the human race, was it?

Deary me, I truly think there must be some kind of mix up goin’ on here, Kanna-sama. There just isn’t a world where a bum like myself could’ve been the one to save you.

Might ya be mistaking me fer a different fellow?

Kanna: No. I’m certain it was you, Raika Hojo-san.

The day it happened, you were standing by the roadside, singing like a bird, just as you are now.

Raika: Ehihi~. I’m useless and barely have a penny to my name, ya see, so puttin’ on little street shows like this is how I’ve been earnin’ my keep fer a while now.

Kanna: Actually, there’s something I’ve been wondering ever since I first saw you.

Do you have a permit for putting on these shows? It’s possible that you’re breaking some sort of law by not carrying one.

Raika: Law!? Like what!? Are they goin’ to arrest me fer being a wrong ‘un!?

Kanna: It’s possible that you’ll receive a warning or be put under police surveillance.

Raika: No no no, I’m doomed! I’ll be sent straight back to the institution if I misbehave again!

Kanna: This ‘institution’ you speak of…about your confinement—

—Oh, just a moment. According to the research I just did on my phone, street performers and unauthorised advertisers are in fact prohibited in this area.

Raika: Y-Ya mean those kinds of laws really do exist?

Kanna: Yes, but please don’t fret.

As an endorser of the idol industry, and thereby musicians, I find it odd that ES would look at artistic works such as street shows involving singing and dancing and prohibit them from an area under their influence.

It’s contradictory of them, yes?

There’s a high probability that you could utilise this argument to defend your activities, whether by staging a protest or by taking it to court.

Raika: C-Court!? Ya mean this could escalate to that?

Kanna: Don’t worry about that yet. In order to protect you, I intend to utilise every possible means that I must. No matter what, I will save you.

That’s all.

Raika: Whyever would ya trouble yourself so much…?

Kanna: As I’ve already said, you saved me a long time ago. It is a deed that I must repay.

Causing trouble for others or indebting myself to them are both acts that I want to avoid.

And yet, I’ve found myself saved by you. You used your body as a shield to ‘erase’ the mistake that my immaturity and stupidity led me to make.

Even if you don’t remember it, even if this isn’t what you want…

It is an act that I will not forget, and nothing could be of more importance to me than repaying what you did.

That’s all.

Raika: Oh gee… I-I think I’ve wound up with some sorts of a problem child attached to me.

Kanna: No one’s ever evaluated me in such a way before. Thank you.

Raika: Uhm…uh, this all feels a bit complex fer my ol’ brain, but I think ya were tryin’ to say that I can keep singin’ by the roadside, weren’t ya?

Bein’ able to sing is enough to make my day, so I’d appreciate it if you could confirm just that one wee thing fer me.

Kanna: You really are quite simple, aren’t you?

Admittedly, I feel as though I admire that aspect of your personality. No, that’s not quite right…perhaps ‘envy’ would be a better word.

Raika: Ehihi, envy, ya say? Let’s sing together then ♪ You’re an idol just like me, aren’t ya?

To tell ya the truth, I’m still a little lost on what an idol actually is.

But if it means being something that sings, then we’re one in the same! The two of us are goin’ to be pals, I just know it ♪

Kanna: Your logic is sound, oddly enough.

However, that doesn’t negate the fact that an idol's voice is a product. To freely distribute it would be an affront to capitalism.

Though, on the other hand, we shouldn’t cause any problems as long as we don’t seek out donations and take care not to disrupt the rest of the public.

After all, the regulations in place prohibit specifically street performances—meaning a show of skill intended to raise money.

Raika: Right! No god or authority has the power to stop a bird from singin’!

Kanna: Is that so? Everytime we meet, I find that you’ve taught me something new.

Raika: Ya truly think so? I don’t think I’ve come up with anythin’ that hasn’t already been said before though?

Raika: Ehihi, fer as smart as ya look, ya know surprisingly little, Kanna-sama♪

Kanna: That’s true. Though the world hails me for being some sort of kid genius, I’m still just an ignorant, immature child.

That was the first vital truth that you taught me.

[fishermanshook]

ASK: hi! i couldn't find if requests are open, sorry if they're closed rn. can i request some composer, orpheus and painter x fem/gn reader fluff?

DATE NITE!

( composer , novelist & painter ) + gn!reader

˙✧˖°🍓 ༘ ⋆｡�� modern/celeb. au ?? , chars. are considered pretty big in the fine arts department + the world pretty much , silly little dates w/ them , ooc a bit , lower case intended , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

mundane dates for people with too much on their plate.

꒰wc꒱ 1 k

THE COMPOSER ; FREDRICK KRIEGBURG

♫ | when it comes to going on dates with the musician, he much rather prefers something more secluded. something personal between the two of you. that’s why he [politely] turns down any offers on going out to things that are known for having big crowds, like festivals or loud concerts.

♫ | it’s the little things that count to fredrick, truly. the homemade dinner has been platted and served along with dimly lit candles and rose petals scattered across the floor. it’s so romantic and fredrick can’t help but feel so loved by you.

♫ | you’ve got music playing in the background as well. and, once you finish your meal, the two of you sway and dance to the song. the composer kisses your lips and for once, it feels like it’s just you and him, and he wishes he could do this with you every night.

the composer looks at you with playful contempt. “is this my song you're playing?”

you throw your head back in laughter. “of course it is silly, I’d be mad if I didn’t play at least one of your songs tonight.”

♫ | eventually, your dancing leads you to freddrick’s piano in the living room. you sit next to him as he plays you his newest creation. it’s a masterpiece, you tell him, followed by the question of what he’ll name it. fredrick chuckles to himself before revealing to you that it’ll be named after you.

“[name]’s symphony, doesn’t that sound delightful?”

THE NOVELIST ; “ORPHEUS” DEROSS

♪ | orpheus, similar to fredrick, likes to keep things personal. not the biggest fan of crowds, but he’s been in the middle of a few big ones due to book signing. he’s not too picky about what dates you guys go on and enjoys most if not all of the outings you plan together.

♪ | so what’s better than a coffee date followed by book shopping? well, lots of things in reality. orpheus definitely participated in extravagant and expensive activities thanks to his earned riches. but a coffee date makes everything feel normal again, a simpler time when he wasn’t flooded with the need to release the next great book. it’s a great way to spend time with you, he thinks.

♪ | the date is filled with hushed whispers and silent giggles as the two of you browse the library, steaming hot coffees in hand. or maybe it’s hot chocolate in your hand. you're too distracted with reading the back of another book to let him have a better look at your drink.

↳ going to a bookstore as a date was more of a “kill two birds with one stone” kind of deal. you knew that it would be a nice way to spend time together without doing anything too grand, and orpheus gets to look for new inspiration. plus, you get to see if any best sellers catch your eye.

“ooooo I like the sound of this book! I think I’m gonna snag it for myself.”

“lemme see, I can probably get it for you.” [he’s going to steal in and read it himself when you’re not looking]

♪ | you expect him to be engulfed in the books around him, flipping through the pages and seeing what other authors have put on display. instead, he looks at you with a type of fondness only you are graced with. he brings a thumb to your lip to wipe off the excess hot chocolate around your mouth. you smile and lean into his warm embrace.

“sorry, I'm too busy looking at you to notice any of the other books. let’s pick out some more together, ‘k?”

THE PAINTER ; EDGAR VALDEN

♩ | edgar valden is widely known for his skills when it comes to painting. he’s perfected everything, he’s mastered every medium, and his inspiration is seemingly endless. that’s what everyone thinks.

↳ edgar lets you in on probably one of his darkest secrets one night, lying in bed: he hasn’t mastered every single medium there is. his inspiration runs out quicker than most would think. and yes, he hasn’t truly perfected everything when it comes to the arts [mostly saying painting]. the reality of it all rains down on him with the pressure to fulfill such beliefs, but you let him know that it’s okay not to. no one should be expected to accomplish such a feat.

♩ | that’s why little dates like these are the ones he probably cherishes the most, despite how embarrassed and anxious he is walking into the art studio.

“they were 5 dollars a person! I thought it could be nice because we could both work on our art skills.”

“[NAME] WHAT IF SOMEONE NOTICES ME?!?!?”

♩ | that’s why he’s so nervous. the edgar valden, in a beginner's art class, learning how to make pottery? don’t the people expect more of him? you tell him no and that, they shouldn’t because he’s human.

↳ legit started hiding his face at the start of the session ‘cause he was so afraid someone would comment about him being here. you had to pry his hands away from his face.

♩ | it isn’t until maybe halfway through the class he starts to get the hang of things, and you're not far behind either. his beautiful, hand-crafted bowl looks stunning, you tell him. Well, not really. it looks more like a pinch pot, but you think it’s best to keep that to yourself.

↳ neither of you is good at pottery, and it just makes learning it that much more fun for the both of you. [edgar refuses to admit smh] he’s secretly dedicated to making a vase to replace the broken one in your apartment. he’ll paint it your favorite color and doodle your favorite flowers all across it. although, he can’t say that this is looking that much like a vase…

♩ | the two of you are complete messes at the end of it. colorful paint splattered across your face along with dried clay stuck and chipped off underneath your fingernails. you walk out having done your first of many pottery classes that day.

“thank you for planning this out. I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would, really.” edgar states before leaving a fleeting kiss on your cheek.

note: his my fishies…🤭🤭🤭 hope you all are having an amazing day / night. enjoy this short little request i got <3

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!

[divineei]

modern!atwow x musician!reader

modern avatar mlist!

desc. headcanons for modern avatar: the way of water teens with a musician significant other who’s in a band. reader plays a different instrument for each character.

a/n. if this flops i’m retiring. real shit.

— neteyam. ( guitarist s/o ♪! )

he sleeps with a t-shirt of your band every. goddamn. night.

gives it back to you once a week so you can spray your perfume on it. you ended up bringing him a bottle of ur fave brand and he sprays the cologne on it every time he washes it (aka ever fucking week)

mans hooked. to both you and your music

listens to your band’s songs at least once a day. either w/ headphones or on full blast it doesn’t matter

his whole family knows all the lyrics

sometimes tuk comes to his room and jumps on his bed while playing air guitar and he absolutely joins

other times tho he closes his eyes to focus and pays special attention to the guitar while having your smile in mind

he once spent like 2 weeks watching youtube tutorials to (kinda) learn one song so he could play for you

was it good? no it was fucking hideous. was it the sweetest fucking thing ever tho? absolutely it was

always tries to pick you up after band practice

my boy would rather miss his basketball competitions than miss one of your concerts

this one time he actually tried to skip a match bc your performance was at the same time and the mf showed up backstage like “hEy🙂”

you had to call his mom for him to leave (u snitch that was kinda foul)

definitely knows abt “the rockstar’s girlfriend” aesthetic and makes it his personality. like he’s so into it

you got him a t-shirt that said “im with the band” as a joke but he actually wears it and its hilarious

— kiri. ( keyboard s/o ♪! )

comes to your house just to hear you play

she brings a book and lays down on your bed while you make new music

ADORES watching you come up with new tunes!!!!!!

you always have that focused look on your face as you move your fingers over the keys at makes her want to take a picture (she actually has a few ngl)

always goes back home humming your new melody

you record covers of her favorite songs on your keyboard and give her a cd that she listens to on her discman (she defo owns old gadgets like that)

sometimes puts her phone down on her window stool, where she has her favorite plants, and leaves it there with your music playing. she likes to think it help her plants grow

lowkey gatekeeps your songs

there was this one time you couldn’t sleep bc she kept appearing on your mind, so you connected your headphones and made your “ode to kiri”

it was 2am when you vídeocalled her to play for her what you just wrote

and kiri being the sensitive person she is, swore she could feel your affection through the music, little tears threatening to fall from her pretty eyes

it was truly a treasured memory in your relationship

until a loud ass knock on your door and an equally loud “FFS ITS 2AM!!!!!” almost made you drop dead

she absolutely laughed at you btw

— lo’ak. ( bassist s/o ♪! )

brings you stickers so you can decorate your bass w/ them

“aye babe i got a new sticker for your guitar” “for the hundredth time lo’ak, its a BASS!!!”

yeah he knows it annoys you and no he’s not gonna stop

his lockscreen is a picture of you on stage with a bunch of lil hearts he drew around you

when he goes to your concerts he tells everyone you two are dating

“you see that one over there bro? pfft yeah, we’re together” “do i know you man????” 💀

when you told him your band didnt have a logo yet he showed up at your door 3 days after, super excited and with a bunch of sketches to show you

i also think lo’ak would be really into graffiti art

so he goes around the neighborhood spray painting your band’s logo on the streets walls

“lo’ak you’re gonna get us in trouble” “oh cmon, its good promo!!”

he messes up with your amplifier when you practice, turning up and down the volume, the treble, etc. until you throw your pick right into his fucking forehead and he’s like:

“ma fault 😨”

the moment he (finally) sits still he actually pays really close attention to how your hands move

“damn, you make it look so easy” “im just good with my fingers ig”

cue the dumbest smirk you’ve ever seen

— ao’nung. ( drummer s/o ♪! )

imma just say it; he is popular. by that i mean ma boy has hella contacts

AND by that i mean he makes sure your band always has a venue to perform at. always first on every list fr

“ao’ stay the fuck away from my drums”

actually a fucking menace. tries to impress you by smashing the drumsticks everywhere.

“nah babe check me out i got it this time srsly”

rhythm left the room the moment he sat down

he even attempts some tricks he seen you pull off during your concerts, like throwing the sticks up or rolling them between his fingers.

they always end up either on the floor or hitting his dumbass head. it’s cool tho, u kiss it better (after a well deserved smack bc what did i tell u)

he’d still insist on learning so you two end up having a chick flick moment where you guide him by putting your hands on his

boy actually blushes. just a smidge

“your ears are red” “stfu no they’re not”

might not know shit abt making music but seeing the look on your face when you play is enough to make him see how passionate you are

loves being alone with you in your band’s backstage lounge

he’s so fucking extra he got his friend outside the door like some whack ass bodyguards. they’re so into it too bro

“aye keep walking man🕴️” “move along bitch aint nothing to see here🕴️”

whenever you’re about to go on stage he stays with you in your band’s room and massages your hands

makes sure you always put some baby powder on your palms before you perform in case you start sweating so you dont drop your drumsticks

— tsireya. ( vocalist s/o ♪! )

she sings along to your songs whenever they play

ao’nung is sick and tired of listening to her and uses ear plugs all the time bc he once told her to stfu and got smacked

you two even make your own carpool karaoke and scream the lyrics together on the parking lot

and she NAILS IT!!!!!

like my girl can sing fr

in fact you’ve asked her to help in a few songs for harmonies and second voices

she helps you out a lot with your vocal practice and your breathing exercises

she sits down with you and counts each second with her fingers when hold your breath and when you try your best to hold a specific note

let’s be honest here. A LOT of your songs are abt her

you really don’t have to tell her, she knows they are. bc when you’re up on stage singing abt the perfect girl, you look right at her. and her heart beats faster every time

sometimes you send her your lyrics like “what do u think of this??” and it’d be a full on poem abt her that makes her smile so goofy. kicking feet and everything

every time you get in the shower and start humming/singing her phone is ready

actually has a video of you freaking tf out bc you had an idea for a new song while showering and you stormed your way out the bathroom, wet and hair full off shampoo

“REYA PASS ME A PEN QUICK” “NAH WHY ARE YOU BOOTY NAKED PLEASEHAhH”

you had to mop the floor after that

— rotxo. ( acoustic guitarist s/o ♪! )

makes sure you are never out of strings to change

but since the strings are heavier from an electric guitar, he knows you sometimes hurt your fingers playing

so he bought you a bunch of finger protectors.

he’s a sweetheart, but those whack ass things he got you looked like this

yeaaah…. no. 💀

actually offensive he’d think you need that shit but you let it go bc he really just wanna be there for you

the actual definition of #1 fan

he’s on every concert

and i mean EVERY. CONCERT. front row, backstage, glowing sticks on one hand, phone on the other and zooming on you and only you

he goes to your house more than you go to his, just bc he always wants you to play smthn. and this way you dont gotta bring your guitar back and forth

when you’re together in your room, you get your guitar and he asks you to play some lofi style tunes

especially loves it when it’s summer and the both of you just lay down with the windows wide open and the breeze goes in and out. has a cool glass of your fave drink with a straw and he holds it up to you while you play

one thing ik for sure is rotxo is lowkey good at making beats/bases

the two of you have definitely made a few tracks purely for your enjoyment (like this)

many many many beach dates where you bring your guitar and he lays his head on your lap while the sun sets

taglist. — @rainbowsocks, @dearstell, @erenjaegerwifee, @neteyamyam, @lvrcpid, @grierpilots, @littlexscarletxwitch, @elegantkidfansoul, @anm3mi, @kachowness, @boilingpots , @lagoonabluebabe, @lethalvenus, @casiia, @liluvtojineteyam, @inluvwithneteyam, @syulangg, @junnniiieee07, @drugs-for-memes, @ilovejakesullysdick, @lovelyygirl8, @neqeyam, @ak-aaa-li, @sakura-onesan, @babyymeme, @gender3nvyy,

© to @divineei on tumblr; do not repost or steal

[sadly-never-after]

Music in the EAH Universe and who listens to them Part 4.

This is just an excuse to try to make music puns and share music I think the characters would listen to. (Some of these are even canon by the books!) I don't even like a majority of these musicians but I am fully convinced of my choices here. I marked in colours the one that are canonically part of the EAH Universe.

Since Tumblr only allows 100 inline links for a post I have to make different parts.

Part 1 (Alistair, Apple, Ashlynn, Blondie, Briar, Bunny)

Part 2 (Cupid, Cedar, Cerise, Chase, Courtly, Daring)

Part 3 (Darling, Dexter, Duchess, Farrah, Faybelle, Ginger)

Part 4 (Holly, Hopper, Humphrey, Hunter, Jillian, Justine)

Part 5 (Kitty, Lizzie, Maddie, Meeshell, Melody, Nina)

Part 6 (Poppy, Ramona, Raven, Rosabella, Sparrow, Tucker)

☽𖤓 🏰 𖤓☾ Holly O'Hair ☽𖤓 🏰 𖤓☾

Taylor Quick (It's nice to have a friend, King of my heart, Love Story)

Justin Timberwolf (Can't Stop The Feeling, Perfect, True Colours)

Katy Fairy (Teenage Dream, Legendary Lovers, Love Me)

Little Red Sheeran (Perfect, Shape of You, Happier)

One Reflection (Perfect, Gotta Be You, You & I)

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 🐸 👑 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Hopper Croakington II 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 🐸 👑 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Wizard (Pink Triangle, I Just Threw Out The Love Of My Dreams, Say It Ain't So)

Ricky Montgnomery (Line Without A Hook, Mr. Loverman, Dont Know How)

Truelove (Tonguetied, Ways to go, Love Will Save Your Soul)

Katy Fairy (Last Friday Night, Thinking of You, The One That Got Away)

Beach Beast (Cloud 9, Prom Queen, Nice Guys)

🥚 🜲 🥚 🜲 🥚 Humphrey Dumpty 🥚 🜲 🥚 🜲 🥚

Eminymph (Lose Yourself, Without Me, The real slim shady)

Lil Swain (Sucker for Pain, Love Me, Mirror)

N-Chant (Rich Money, IDL, Homeboy on a shirt)

Twenty one kings men (Holding on to you, Choker, Johnny Boy)

Wizard (Beverly Hills, Buddy Holly, Thank God For Girls)

🐾🏹🐺🐻 Hunter Huntsman 🐾🏹🐺🐻

Encounter Dragons (It's Time, Enemy, On Top of the World)

Fall Out Book (Centuries, I don't care, Dance, Dance)

OneKingdom (Feel Again, I Don't Wanna Wait, Counting Stars)

Trollplay (The Scientist, Green Eyes, Miracles)

Ever After Authors (Do My Own Thing, Something Amazing, Blind for Love)

𖠗 🌱 ❀ᮬᰰུㅤ Jillian Beanstalk 𖠗 🌱 ❀ᮬᰰུㅤ

Goldie (Call Me, Maria, Picture This)

Corset Suffocation (Rebel Girl, Double Dare Ya, Carnival)

Joan Jett & the Redhearts (Bad Reputation, Crimson & Clover, Bad Karma)

Notting Ham (Champion, White Flag, River)

Encounter Dragons (Believer, Radioactive, Enemy)

🩰♡₊˚・₊ ♪ ✧♫₊˚.✧💃🏾 Justine Dancer 🩰♡₊˚・₊ ♪ ✧♫₊˚.✧💃🏾

D'aulnoy Cat (Kiss Me More, Boss Bitch, Woman)

Lana d'Aulnoy (Blue Jeans, West Coast, Old Money)

FKA Witch (I'm Your Doll, Lights On, Talk To Me)

Fayoncé (Run the world, Me, Myself & I, Dance For You)

Michael Jack-and-the-Beanstalk (Thriller, Smooth Criminal, Blood on the dance floor)

You are trapped on an eight-hour long road trip with these guys and you have to give one of them the aux chord.

[asacredthebread]

Welcome to my page ! Feel free to request anything through my inbox, or leave an ask! The vast majority of my fics include adult themes. join the taglist

Fluff ☾ Smut ✦ Angst ❀ One-Shot ♪ Series ➸

𝕁𝕠𝕤𝕙

Love At First Gig ☾✦➸

We Chose The Road ☾➸

A Game Of Hearts ✦♪

A Night To Remember ☾✦♪

The Music Is You ☾♪

Midnight Musings ☾♪

Crimson Desires ✦♪

𝕁𝕒𝕜𝕖

Fraternity Fever ☾✦❀➸

Your Majesty ❀♪

Daddy's Little Musician ☾♪

The First Song ☾♪

Homecoming ☾✦♪

Kisses & Cravings ☾✦♪

Behind The Curtain ☾✦♪

𝔻𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕪

Dóchas & Grá ☾♪

A Cosy Night In ☾♪

After Work Affections ☾✦♪

The Art of Surrender ☾✦♪

𝕊𝕒𝕞

Petrichor ☾♪

The Patch ☾♪

Sounds Of Serenity ☾♪

Soft To The Touch ✦♪

Cocky Corrections ✦♪

A Cabin In The Woods ☾➸ Ch1 Ch2

𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕤

Late Nights With The Twins ☾❀♪

[i-am-baechu]

❥・Title: Passenger

❥・Paring: Namjoon x reader 

❥・ Summary: Meeting a cute boy at the bookstore wasn’t new to Y/N. What was new was when the said cute boy asks her out and he’s Kim fucking Namjoon. Why would an idol want to be with someone in a wheelchair or someone who uses a cane?

❥・ Rating: Explicit (18+) 

❥・ Genre: Idol! Namjoon, bookstore worker! Y/N, disabled reader, toxic ex-friends, musician Y/N, fluff, romance, angst, comedy, and smut

❥・Author's Note: I had this done yesterday but I didn't like the story so, I re-did the story

❥・ Playlist: Passenger - Candice Glover ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ

“Mom, can I please have this?” 

L/N Y/N glanced at the mom with a curious look as she put books on her cart. It was a normal Thursday afternoon, some kids were just getting off of school and coming in to study or looking for books. Y/N smiled at the scene as the mom got down to her daughter's level, “What is it?”

“It's a koala. Well, it's bt21 Koya. I don’t have this one.” 

The mom glanced at the keychain and smiled, “Sure, you passed your math test. You deserve something.” 

“Really Mom!? Thank you!” 

Y/N watched them walk away, “How cute.” 

Yuri walked over to her and smiled down at her, “It is cute. Wait, are you talking about the scene or the keychain?” 

“Both. Both are good.” Y/N pushed the cart slowly as she turned her wheel on the chair, “Where does this cart go?” 

“It goes in the back. I heard that Maria is leaving on Friday.” 

Y/N scoffed at this as she stopped moving, “Good. After what she did to me, I’m glad she got fired.” 

Yuri nodded her head as she stood next to her, “I am too. I am scared that she’ll do something. Maria and Chae were close, Chae might come after you.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and shook her head, “This isn’t high school...why do they want to act like it is?” 

“Because that’s when they peaked. Just be careful, I’ll keep an eye on them too. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“What more can they do to me? I already have nerve damage.” 

Namjoon leaned back in his chair and stared at his screen with a blank expression. It’s been two hours and nothing. Every time he typed something out, he deleted it. He just wanted to write a simple poem to get his thoughts flowing and so far, nothing. He cracked his neck and ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. A knock on the door made him glance at the dark wood and rub his forehead, “Come in.” 

The door opened to reveal Yoongi leaning against the door frame with a raised eyebrow, “It’s bad that I’m checking on you.”

Namjoon sighed with a chuckle escaping, “Yeah, I know. I’ve been trying to get inspiration but nothing.”

“Why don’t you go to that bookstore?” 

“That narrows it down.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes and took his phone out of his pocket. He typed something in his phone and turned it towards his leader, “It's called Sea of Hope. It’s by a park and a cafe, I think it will be beneficial for you.” 

“Sea of Hope...I’ll check it out. Will you go with me?” 

“Sure, I have nothing else to do. Plus, Hae wants me to get her a new sketchbook.” 

Namjoon nodded his head and took out his phone with a sigh. Yoongi raised his eyebrow with a small smirk, “Waiting for her?” 

“I don’t think she's going to text me back.”

“You don’t know that.”

I do...I do, “Do you want to get a drink with me?” 

“Sure, let me get Hoseok too. He needs a break too.”

“Alright sounds like a plan.”

Namjoon watched Yoongi leave his studio and he leaned back in his chair staring at his phone. He sighed to himself and felt annoyed. Why did she ask about him if she wasn’t going to communicate with him? He was interested but clearly she wasn’t. How many times is he going to get ghosted? 

Y/N brushed her hair as she glanced at herself in the glass leaning against her cane for stability. She was in her late twenties with her wheelchair and cane to get around. She was born with nerve damage and there wasn’t much she could do but to live with it. There were days where she wished she could’ve ended it all but there was always something stopping her. It was her mother's smile and her father's laugh that kept her grounded throughout her life. Then she met her best friend in high school, Jung Ae-Cha. Just their simple love kept her moving forward in life.

She pushed some hair back and smiled to herself, “Okay.” 

She opened the door and called for a car, saying goodbye to her orange and white cat, Sonia. She locked her door and put her keys in her pocket when the cold air touched her warm cheeks. She had a small shiver and shook her head, it’s so cold but I do love fall... The drive there was short but it was enough time to watch the leaves fall from the branches. It was a sight to see. Watching a leaf dance with the wind was like watching a married couple take their first dance, it was always special no matter how many times you’ve seen it. 

The cafe was like any other cafe, it felt warm and it wasn’t just the tea. The windows showcased the large park with the flowers touching the cold glass. She sat next to the window and watched the kids play with one another. She couldn’t help but feel some sadness watching them run across the grass without a care in the world. 

“You shouldn’t think too hard, Y/N.”

She turned her head and saw Ae-Cha giving her a soft smile holding two cups, “I guess. Sometimes thinking is good for the soul.”

“It can be good but it can also be bad depending on the thoughts. Knowing you, the thoughts are bad.” 

“Not necessary...what kind of tea did you get?”

Ae-Cha set the cups down on the small table as she pulled out her chair, “I got myself a London fog and I got you a green tea with cream.” 

“Thank you. How was the trip here?” 

Ae-Cha sighed and shook her head, “I know moving to Italy would be exciting but my god, the flight here. I feel so exhausted.”  

“I thought your boyfriend got you first class?” 

“He did but the people around weren’t so nice. How’s work?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and put her cup back on the table, “You remember that girl I was telling you about?”

“Maria? Or was it Chae?” 

“Technically both but the story is focusing on Maria.”

Ae-Cha nodded her head and took a sip of her tea, “I thought you liked her? What happened?”

“She got mad that I was getting more hours than her so she tried to trip me and then she got Chae to make my life harder. She said, “We only need her to make the company look good.”

“I’ll slap her for you.”

“You could get sued.”

“You should sue the company for letting the manager discriminate against you. It’s not right.”

Y/N sighed and glassed at the park, “I know...but sadly I need this job.”

Ae-Cha shook her head and gave her a stern look (something Y/N was avoiding), “No job is worth the abuse.” 

“Tell that to the economy. I was already looking at another job.”

“That’s good. You need to leave that toxic place.” 

“I’ll try.” 

Namjoon sat down on the grass and stared out into the neverending grass fields. He looked down and gently touched the daisies that were around him. Each flower was a different color but the petals felt the same. He placed his backpack behind him and laid down staring up at the clear sky with the cold air touching his skin. 

It was another day with no work getting done and another day without getting a text. Maybe this online dating wasn’t meant for him. Maybe he should go look for someone without someone helping him. It was time to take matters into his own hands. He was going to find a girl. 

He glanced at the cafe and smiled, “Neverland..that sounds cute.” Namjoon had a small shiver when she felt the breeze again but it didn’t bother him. He actually loved fall. 

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

It was early morning and Y/N was opening up the store. Chae was on the schedule with her but she knew she wasn’t going to show up. Why would she? Her parents owned the bookstore and she hated her guts, it makes sense. She didn’t understand why Maria or Chae hated her. They were friends in the beginning but then something shifted and she didn’t know what it was. She’s tried talking to Maria (the more civilized one at least that’s what she thought) but she got ignored. 

Maria was someone that Y/N knew back in college. They only talked when they needed to but the conversations were never malicious. They were the opposite. Maria was kind and gentle to her whenever she saw her. Obviously, something changed. When she met her in the bookstore things were going well. She would go out to dinner with her or they would hang out at the cafe. Once she started to hang out with Chae, she changed. 

Maria was fired because Y/N laid everything on the table to Chae’s parents. She only mentioned Maria because she was scared to even mention Chae. Maria would make everything harder for her. She would make sure all the books she needed were higher than usual or she would make sure there was stuff on the floor whenever she had her wheelchair. Y/N tried letting it go because it was just childish and she didn’t need to be angry. It wasn’t until she had an accident. Maria tripped her and she fell. She asked Maria for help but she got laughed at. Chae was there and recorded everything. Their laughs clouded her brain that day and a decision was made. Now she was the target of Chae but she wasn’t going down without a fight. 

Y/N watched as people made their way into the store. Talking amongst each other with small voices that would make a mouse jealous. She was always jealous seeing groups of friends, she never really had a group. Sure she had friends throughout high school and college but they never stayed. Ae-Cha was the only that stayed but even with her, it gets lonely at times. This is one of those times. 

The way the girls laughed with each other and hit their shoulders as they laughed, it made her smile in green. She sighed to herself and picked up the go-backs, it was a small stack of books so it was manageable. She leaned against her cane putting some books back on the shelves. She turned her and her eyes landed on a group of guys. It was four of them but they had masks with sunglasses. She squinted her eyes at them because this wouldn’t be the first time someone stole from the store. She made a mental note about them but headed back to her desk to finish her morning paperwork. 

Namjoon felt her eyes and glanced at her, her curious eyes were bright as her lips were shining under the light. She was cute but that's all he thought. In his mind, she knew he was famous because of the stare. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone stared at him in public when he had a mask on, so much for the mask to cover his face. At least she didn’t come up to him to ask questions or anything like that. 

Jin raised his eyebrow and glanced at him, “Are you okay?”

Namjoon nodded his head and glanced over his shoulder to see her leaving, “That girl was staring...I think she knew we were famous.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes and shook his head, “I think you're paranoid. She probably was just checking in on us or something like that. We are wearing masks, sunglasses and black hoodies. She probably thinks we're going to steal.”

“I didn’t think of that...” 

Hoseok let out a small laugh, “See, don’t assume someone knows you're famous. She’s just doing her job, that’s all.”

Namjoon sighed and nodded his head, “I know, I know. You just never know with people and I want to make sure we're safe in public.” 

Jin nodded his head and put the book back on the shelf, “I get it Joon. I saw you looking at her though, you think she's cute?”

Namjoon rolled his eyes at him and put the book in his basket, “Do you have your books?” 

“You ignored the question, you think she's cute.” 

“I want to look at more books, I’ll be in the back.”

The three older men let out a small chuckle watching him leave, annoyance with each step he took. Y/N signed off her last paper and looked up to see the guy with the mask and glasses. She tilted her head at him as he headed towards the back. He had an interesting aura but it was probably because he was going to steal or something. Some people came up with their purchases and she looked away from him. 

Namjoon grabbed the book that he wanted and smiled underneath the black material. He ignored his members and went to the front. He waited in line but he heard her soft voice, “This book is really good. The poems are kinda dark but it's still good.” 

“Oh really. I’ve read the other works of his but they weren’t dark. So this one is dark?” 

Y/N nodded her head and gave her a smile, “It is but it's really good. I’ve read it.” 

The younger girl smiled at this and took out her cash, “Thank you for helping, I appreciate it.” 

“Of course and if you don’t like it, you can always return it.” 

“Thank you again.” 

Namjoon smiled to himself as he watched the girl smile. Her smile was gentle and her voice sounded like the gentle wind in spring. She was cute, “I can help who's next.” 

Namjoon snapped out of his thoughts and bowed his head at the girl. He placed the basket on the counter, “Hello, how's your day?” 

Y/N smiled at him as she put the books on the counter (happy that he didn’t steal anything), “It’s been going good. Do you like history?” 

Namjoon smiled (even though she couldn't see it) and nodded his head, “Yeah, it’s a story about a feminist leader and I’ve been interested in it for a while.”

He’s interested in a feminist leader...it could be a way to pick up girls. He could be one of those guys.... “My co-worker read this book and liked it. You should get the other volumes.”

“I thought about it but it gives me another reason to come back.”

She raised her eyebrow but nodded her head, “That will be ₩ 88,077. Will that be cash or card?”

“Oh, card.”

“Alright, let me set up the card reader and when it’s ready just hover your card over the corner to have it read.” 

Namjoon nodded his head as he took out his card to do what she said. She doubled his bag and clicked the tender on the computer. She pushed some hair behind her ear as he glanced at her. She smiled and took the receipt and put it in the bag, “You have a good day.” 

“Y-You too, bye.” 

“Bye-bye.” 

Y/N watched him leave and tilted her head. “How strange.” 

After her shift, Y/N went to the music store next door. She waved her hand at the owner, Kim Jin-Young, and walked up to him, “How’s your day so far, Mr. Kim.” 

Jin-Young let out a small laugh and shook his head, “I told you to call me Jin-Young, Y/N.”

“I know but it's fun calling you Mr. Kim, makes you feel older.” 

Jin-Young rolled his eyes and glanced at the back door, “Do you want your guitar?”

“Yeah, I was checking in on it.”

Jin-Young smiled at this and went to the back room. He came out with a brand new acoustic guitar with flowers on the side, “I tuned it for you but you might want to do it yourself. Are you performing this weekend?” 

Y/N smiled and nodded her head. She set the cane against the counter to take the guitar with a smile, “Yeah, Ae-Cha signed me up a month ago. I had no idea but she thought it would be good for me.”

“I think it would be. You have really good lyrics and a beautiful voice.” 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, “Shut up, I’m nothing like those K-pop idols.” 

“Some of them lip sync. Be proud of your talent.” 

“I suppose. Thank you for this, I appreciate it.”

“No problem, Y/N. I’ll be cheering you on Saturday.” 

“I’ll see you later, Mr. Kim.”

Jin-Young rolled his eyes and watched the girl leave with the guitar on her back, “Yah! It’s Jin-Young to you!” 

Namjoon leaned back in his chair and stared at his ceiling with a blank expression. His blank expression matched his computer screen and he sighed to himself. He glanced at his couch and saw the bag from the bookstore and smiled to himself. He got up from his desk and took out the book he got. He smiled to himself when he thought of the cashier but he shook his head. Maybe reading the book could give him a break from life. 

Namjoon finished the book that night and he came back to the bookstore the next day. Y/N recognized him because of his voice and the pair of sunglasses he had on. She didn’t check him out at the register but she did talk to him when he was walking around the store. She realized that he wasn’t using a feminist leader to flirt but he was actually interested in it. She smiled at this as he went on tangents about the leader. He even recommended books to her. He was interested and he read pretty fast because he’s back again today. 

“You read pretty fast.”

Namjoon jumped at the voice and looked at her. She was wearing a simple white short-sleeved shirt with her work vest and her hair was in a low ponytail. The vest had different buttons of things that she was interested in and he held in a laugh when he noticed a Koya on the dark green vest.  He nodded and showed her a random book on the shelf, “I was looking at a different genre this time.” 

She tilted her head at the book and let out a small laugh, “You want to read a teen fantasy about a vampire falling in love with a wizard?” 

Namjoon glanced at the cover and back at her, “I-I...”

“If you're into that then go right ahead.” 

Namjoon put the book back and shook his head, “No-No, I just grabbed a random book. I-I-”

“I can put that in the front for you.”

Namjoon felt his face get hot and he wanted to slap his forehead, “I want some poetry books.”

“So, why did you grab that book?”

“I just grabbed a random book to talk to you.”

“To talk to me?”

“I like talking to you...is that weird? It is weird, I’m sorry.”

Y/N felt flattered and she ignored her heart fluttering,  “I like talking to you too. I can show you the-”

“I’ll show him the poetry section. Y/N, you should be in the front. Not walking around.”

Y/N held in a sigh and turned around to see Chae glaring at her. She nodded her head and looked back at Namjoon with a small smile, “I’ll see you in the front.” 

Namjoon watched Y/N leave and he frowned at the scene. Whoever this girl was, it was clear she didn’t like the girl. The one thing he was happy about was that he knew her name, Y/N. It matched her perfectly. Namjoon turned towards the girl and smiled at her under the mask, “I can find it, thank you.”

“Are you sure? I would love to help.”

Namjoon fought back the urge to roll his eyes but shook his head, “No, it’s okay. Thank you.”

Namjoon left her standing there before she could say anything to him. He quickly went into the poetry section and sighed to himself, “Y/N...pretty name.” 

Y/N signed off some return receipts and when she turned around Chae was standing there with her arms crossed. The glare she was giving her made her skin feel like it was on fire, “Hi, Chae”

“Why weren’t you in the front? That’s your task for today.”

Y/N glanced at the paper in her hands and then back at her with a tensed smile, “No one was on the floor with me so, I had to walk around the store to make sure everyone was helped.” 

“Walk? You barely do that. You're slow, that's why you stay in the front.” 

“I have my cane, I can walk around-”

“I don’t care what you can do, you stay in the front. You’ll just get in my way and it's annoying.”

She knew she shouldn’t feel hurt by her words but it was hard, “Okay.”

“Okay? Is that all you can say? You should-”

“I’m ready.”

Y/N glanced over Chae’s shoulder and saw the mystery standing there with his books. She was grateful for him because she felt saved at this moment. Chae gave him a fake smile and nodded her head, “Y/N will be happy to help you.” 

And with that, Chae left. Y/N let out the sigh that she was holding in and smiled at him, “Thank you for that...you know my name, what’s yours?” 

Namjoon let out a small laugh and put the books on the counter, “Now why would you want to know my name?” 

“Because...I like talking to you.” 

Namjoon smiled at this and nodded his head. He took off his sunglasses and looked around before pulling down his mask, “My name is Namjoon.”

Her eyes widened at this when she saw who it was, “Kim Namjoon? Like from Bts?”

“Yeah...don’t tell anyone, please.” 

“I wouldn’t dare to do so. It would mean other people talk to you and I wouldn’t want competition.”

Namjoon let out a laugh and put everything back on, “It wouldn’t be a competition. I would only talk to you anyways.” 

“That’s good to know, Mr. Idol.” 

“Mr. Idol? That feels weird, just call me Namjoon or if people are around Nam.”

She let out a small laugh as she scanned the last book, “Nam? That’s not very creative of you.” 

“Hey, I’m trying here.” 

“I see that. That will be ₩ 94,248, Mr. Nam.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes and took his card out, “I regret saying that now.”

“I don’t...I was wondering...We have this festival tomorrow and it would be cool if you came. You don’t have either.” 

“A festival?” 

Y/N nodded and put the receipt in his bag, “Yeah, it's a small music one. You said you’ve been having trouble at work. Now that  I know it's music...I thought it would be beneficial for you.” 

Namjoon smiled and nodded his head, “Are you asking me out on a date?” 

Y/N’s face felt warm and she shook her head, “It’s not a date. A hang-out if you will.” 

“Then I’ll come to that hang-out, Y/N.”

“Good, Mr. Nam...I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

She watched him leave the store and she couldn’t help but smile to herself. He was interesting and she couldn’t wait to know more about him. 

Namjoon sat on the grass with Yoongi sitting next to him as he stared at the empty stage. Y/N already met Yoongi and Yoongi thought it was funny that Namjoon was interested in her. She was the opposite of him, she was more blunt with her comments while Namjoon wasn’t but it was clear they were both interested in each other. Y/N told them that she had to do something and walked away. The last thing that he saw was the rose gold cane shining.

“You like her?”

Namjoon glanced at Yoongi and took a sip of his water, “She’s interesting...” 

“Just say you like her. You're not waiting for the other girl, right?” 

“I deleted her number. She wasn’t worth the wait.”

“What was her name again? Hae told me that she wasn’t good news so I blocked it out.” 

Namjoon sighed and looked at Yoongi, “Hae, knew she wasn’t good? Why didn’t she tell me?” 

“She wanted you to learn your lesson, I guess. What was her name so I can keep an eye out.”

“Maria.” 

“The next performer is my good friend, L/N Y/N.”

Namjoon snapped his head to the stage and watched Y/N go to the microphone with a guitar and without her cane. She sent a smile to the crowd and gave a small wave to Namjoon. Namjoon returned it as Yoongi watched on the sidelines with a smirk on his face. Yoongi leaned towards Namjoon and whispered in his ear, “Did you know she was performing?”

“No...” 

She played a few cords and smiled to herself as the melody echoed throughout the park, Raindrops make me think of you, Fragments of you in them. Each drop is our memories. Good or bad, there are no outliers. Especially with you. I think that’s why I like rainy days. You're always with me, even in an empty room.”

The sad melody played and for Namjoon everything was at a standstill as he stared at the girl in front of him. She was playing the guitar and her soft voice pierced his ears. It was beautiful but it was so sad. The words to the song were poetic and they held the pain of the past. Anyone can relate to her words and he thinks that’s why he liked it so much. 

When she finished everyone applauded her and bowed. She headed off the stage making Namjoon run towards it, ignoring the stare from his member. He entered backstage and saw Y/N looking down at the ground with tears in her eyes as two girls stood in front of her, “Why would anyone like your song?”

“They probably felt pity for you because I mean look at you. Disabled and you barely can walk.”

Namjoon glared at this and let out a small cough behind the mask as his glasses hid his glare. The two girls turned around and looked him up and down with confused looks, “What do you want?” 

“I’m here for Y/N. I don’t appreciate you saying all those things to her.” 

“It’s true and it's time she learned. She’s just a headache to everyone.” 

Namjoon took off his glasses and sent a hard glare that made the girl take a step back, “You're a  headache by just talking. Now move.” 

She scoffed at this and glanced at Y/N, “He only did that because he felt bad for you. Remember that.”

The two girls left while Y/N stared at the dirty wood with a blank expression. Namjoon shook his head at their behavior and tilted her chin with his thumb, “Don’t listen to them. Idiots just echo each other to feel heard.” 

Y/N let out a sad chuckle and shook her head, “Sometimes Idiots say the truth....”

“Y/N, they're wrong. You're beautiful inside and out, no matter what people say. Everyone is different, and that makes everyone unique in their own way.” 

“Beautiful?”

She tilted her head at him and let out a small cough as he looked away, “Just don’t listen to them.”

“Should I listen to you then?”

“If that makes you happy, then yes.”

They stared into each other's eyes and she let out a small laugh, “Thank you...we should get back to Yoongi.” 

“Y-Yeah, where’s your cane?”

“In my dressing room. Can you help me?”

“Always...” 

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Fall came and passed. It was spring when the flowers bloomed from slumber from the cold winter. Y/N opened her window to let the semi-warm air into her room. She glanced outside to see the bush that was near her house was already blooming with small pink flowers. She smiled to herself and pushed some hair back as she relished in the morning sun. 

She had known Namjoon for a while now and everything was good. In her dark thoughts, it was too good. He would always make time for her and come visit her and her cat. He would bring her favorite food and drinks while they sat in her living room talking about poetry. It was as if he understood everything she was saying and vice versa. It was lovely but again her mind loved playing tricks on her. 

Namjoon was building up the courage to ask her out but every time he wanted to, it didn’t feel right. The rest of the members were threatening him at this point to ask her out but he was nervous. He never really liked anyone before her, they were only flings. Y/N was different and he didn’t want to ruin anything between them. It would devastate him if he lost her. If he had to keep his feelings hidden longer then he would do so. 

Y/N got ready for another day at work and she was already dreading going in. She didn’t want to see Chae but at least she worked with Yuri today. She laid back on her back staring at her ceiling with a frown. It wasn’t until she felt softness at her fingertips and she smiled. She glanced and saw Sonias with her bright green eyes. Y/N softly scratched Sonia’s head, “Sonia, I wish I could stay home all day with you. Nothing to worry about, just cuddles.” 

Sonia let out a loud meow and cuddled into her side making Y/N melt, “I love you too but I have to go. You be a good girl. Namjoon is coming by later, he’ll have your treats. You know how he is. Always spoiling you.”

Another meow left her lips and she smiled to herself. She leaned down and kissed the top of Sonia’s head. She gently got off the bed and frowned when she felt pain in her leg. It was going to be a long day and she wasn’t ready for it. She walked down the stairs carefully as Sonia went beside her, slowing down when Y/N did. When she finally reached the last step she grabbed her wheelchair and slowly sat in it. A sigh left her lips as she tried to be positive for the day. It’s so hard to feel anything when you feel nothing. 

A knock at the door caused her to raise her eyebrow, “Who is it?”

“It’s Namjoon! Can I come in?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and a small laugh, “You know the code.”

Namjoon opened the door and saw that she was in the wheelchair and frowned, “Is your leg acting up?”

“When is it not acting up? It’s just a wheelchair kind of day. Why are you here?” 

“I wanted to drop you off.” 

Y/N smiled at this and looked down at her feet, “You want to drive your disabled friend to work?”  

“I want to drive Y/N to work. You're much more than being disabled.” 

“Wait, you can’t drive though.”

Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck and let out a nervous chuckle, “That’s why I asked Hyung to help me.”

“Which one-”

“Y/N~!” 

She smiled and watched the door open wider to see Hoseok giving her a wide smile, “Hello, oppa. Thank you for driving me.”

“It’s no problem Y/N. Namjoon woke me up early to-”

Namjoon hit Hoseok's shoulder and let out a nervous laugh, “Let’s get you to work.” 

“Thank you, Nam.” 

Namjoon rolled his eyes and let out a huff of air, “I told you not to call me that when it's just us.” 

“When do I listen to you? It’s fun making you mad.” 

The ride there was filled with soft music bouncing off the leather fabric. Y/N stared outside looking at the flowers with a softness in her heart. She loved spring, it was the time when things that were hidden away from the cold appeared. It was a metaphor for life and she wanted to stick to that. 

Namjoon saw that she was looking out the glass and smiled at her gentle look. He let out a small cough that made her look at him and raised an eyebrow, “Tonight I was wondering if we can write together again.” 

Y/N smiled at this and nodded her head, “That sounds fun. Are you going to spoil Sonia?” 

“She deserves it. She’s the only cat that behaves well and loves cuddles.”

“Does this exclude Yoongi?” 

Namjoon let out a small laugh and shook his head, “You know what I mean. Who do you work with today?”

“With Chae and Yuri.” 

Namjoon scoffed at this, “I don’t like Chae. She needs to be put in her place.” 

“I don’t have to deal with her any longer. Next week is my last week, so no worries.” 

Namjoon smiled at this and nodded his head, “Where are you going to work?”

“With Jin-Young. It felt right to move to the music store and it's near the cafe.”

“I’m glad you're leaving that bookstore. It was toxic.” 

She nodded her head as she looked out the window, “Ae-Chae, asked her boyfriend to sue Chae and wants me to go forward with it.”

Hoseok nodded his head at this as he gently stopped the car, “You should go forward with it. She discriminated against you.” 

“I just don’t like conflict...it’s so much money too. Ae-Chae said she would pay for it but I feel bad for that. I don’t think I’ll go forward with it because well I’m scared...”

“That’s understandable, Y/N. If you want to go forward, I’ll be happy to help you.”

She turned towards Namjoon with her eyes widened, “You would help me?” 

“I told you. I’ll always help you.” 

That night, Jin picked her up with Namjoon and the tension in the car was different. Namjoon was nervous while Jin was smiling to himself, it was clear that he had done something to him. They sat in her bedroom typing away on their laptops. Namjoon kept glancing at her over his screen while Y/N was typing and petting Sonia in her lap. 

“Nam, what did you write?” 

“I-I...I want you to go first.” 

“Okay...Falling snow with secrets of winter linger. Springtime is when the truth is revealed 

Warmth is replaced in the summer with your touch, But when fall comes loneliness returns. Four seasons isn’t enough to heal. A lifetime will do.” 

Namjoon nodded his head and smiled, “That was pretty. I liked the mention of the different seasons.” 

“I thought about it because it's the first day of spring.” 

“Ah, you were excited about the flowers blooming.” 

“I was, now what did you write?” 

Namjoon nodded his head and let a nervous sigh out, “I wrote this from the heart...I hope you like it.”

“If it’s from the heart then how could I hate it?” 

“The moment we met, I knew. Somehow the truth always comes out with you. The reason I survive is one of the reasons for my rebirth. My meaning of life. Hold me, with tears escaping into the abyss. Something so pure and true. Can even make the strongest whimper. My summer sky in the harsh winter, the first raindrop in a drought, a crumble in a famine. My strength, my clarity, and my heaven...Y/N will you be my girlfriend?”

Her eyes widened at this and stared at him with a shocked look, “Y-You want me to be your girlfriend?”

“I do...I really do.” 

Y/N glanced down at Sonia as she continued to pet her, “You want me even though I have so many things wrong with me?” 

“Y/N, I don’t give a shit if you have problems. I love you for you. Every little thing about you I’m in love with. Regardless of how you see yourself. I love you.” 

“You-You love me?” 

“I do.” 

She gently touched Sonia’s butt to have her jump off her lap. She leaned against the table and gently placed her lips on his. His eyes widened but he closed his eyes and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. He gently pushed the table away and grabbed her hips, picking her up effortlessly. His hand moved to the back of her neck and he pulled her closer. When they leaned away he pushed some hair away from her face and truly looked at her face. She tried to look away from his intense eyes but he would let her budge. He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, her cheeks, and then the edge of her lips, “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too...Nam.” 

He let out a deep chuckle and kissed her neck as her fingers went through his hair, “Always the one that likes to annoy.”

“I think it gives you excitement.” 

“It does.”

He gently pushed her down on the floor as he towered over her. Her hair perfectly framed her face as the nervousness in her eyes became clear to him. He leaned down and kissed her lips again and this time it was more passionate than before. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him in closer. He happily accepted it. Nervous as she was, she couldn’t help the feeling in her stomach that erupted because of his touch. His thighs slowly separated hers as he got into a better position. 

He was perfect and she was the greatest treasure that he could ever acquire. He lifted up her skirt and gave her a small smile, “Is this okay?” 

“This is everything I want...” 

It happened so fast but so slow at the same time. He buried his face into her neck, panting as he placed kisses on her sweaty skin. The thrusting that started off slow was no faster with each passing second. He leaned away and looked down at her pleasured-out face. Her lips shined under the light with her eyes closed tightly. Her moans became louder as she felt her body moving forward with each thrust. Her arms reached up to him and he knew what she wanted. He leaned down and gave her another deep kiss as she arched her back when she felt her orgasm approaching. 

Keeping his mind focused, he continued to focus on her. Lifting up her shirt and kissing the tops of her breasts. He was losing himself and he couldn’t stop, “I’m going to come, Y/N.”

“T-That’s okay.”

“Where do you want me to come?” 

“You can just do it on my thigh or stomach.”

He nodded his head and pulled himself out with a low groan coming out of his mouth. He started rubbing himself and a white substance touched her the inside of her thigh. She felt it drip down and out of curiosity, she brought her fingertips to it and gently touched it. She brought it to her mouth and tasted it. Namjoon's blissed-out expression registers what just happened and lets out a moan at the sight. 

“You’ll be the death of me.”

“That’s good to know.” 

He leaned to kiss her left shoulder and back at her with a smile, “I love you regardless of what’s happening. You're my everything. The moment I saw you with your cane in the bookstore I fell in love with you. I love you for you. Nothing less.”

A small tear escaped as she gently touched his face, “Even if I can’t walk some days.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“Even on days that I can feel anything.”

“I’ll become your nurse.”

She smiled at him and kissed the tip of his nose, “Then I’m yours.”

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Two Years Later 

“Y/N! Are you ready?”

She turned around and smiled at Namjoon, “You think Army would accept me? I mean it’s me...” 

Namjoon let out a small laugh and sat next to her. He kissed the side of her head and pushed some hair from her forehead, “Why wouldn’t they?” 

“I’m not normal...”

“Y/N, you're the greatest thing that has happened to me. I love you. Remember what I said to you.” 

She let out a laugh and kissed his cheek, “Call me Nam.”

He rolled his eyes and kissed her forehead, “My strength, my clarity, and my heaven. I would do anything for you.” 

“I would do anything for you too...Let’s tell the world about us. I’ll stand by you no matter what. I’ll be your passenger through life.” 

He smiled at this and intertwined their fingers together as a diamond sparkled in the light, “Forever.” 

[deityoftherain]

chord crush - Scwhip Band AU Fanfic

Rating: Teen

Relationship: M/M, Gen

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 7,578

Summary: Being a musician himself, Fwhip often found himself admiring another's music, even if their style wasn't what he normally went for. When scrolling through their socials after practice, they stumbled upon an influencer who managed to peak their interest the moment he opened his mouth to sing for the camera. Fwhip had expected his infatuation to stop there, but, as luck would have it, that very influencer decided to visit Empires Nightclub during one of the nights WRA was working a gig there...

Written for @djpurple3, my artist, through @mcytblraufest!!!

Full fanfic underneath the cut! Please reblog, leave kudos on the AO3 fic slash notes/likes here on Tumblr, comment either place, and etc if you enjoy the story :D

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Fwhip ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

“Good practice, everyone!” Joey clapped his hands together quickly. “Gem, you were a bit pitchy, and there was some stumbling on timing from a few of you, but only a trained ear like mine would pick that up.” “...Thanks Joey,” Fwhip replied flatly, trying to keep the annoyance out of their tone. Joey could be frustrating to deal with, especially when almost every praise was paired with criticism, but Joey was a good employer and a pretty decent friend deep down. Fwhip tried not to let it bother him too much.

Wither Rose Alliance (WRA for branding purposes) was currently practicing at Empires Nightclub, preparing for the gig they had there the next day. Though they often practiced in Pearl’s garage, when Joey offered them the venue, they’d take it. Getting on the stage they would be performing at allowed them to get a feel of the room and also see for themselves how their new songs bounced off the walls.

Joey waved his hand dismissively. “Get some water in you and start wrapping up. I need you out within the hour so we can start opening. Cod Alliance is supposed to be here soon and I don’t need you all distracting each other.”

Cod Alliance was another rock band that played here regularly. They were more of a punk band, whereas WRA had more folk influences in their music, especially considering they had a violinist. The two bands have known each other for quite awhile, which was unsurprising considering the town they lived in wasn’t that huge and their music styles had some similarities.

“Distract each other?” Sausage gasped dramatically, even as Joey turned away to start setting up. “Why, I would never!”

“Uh-huh, sure you wouldn’t.” Gem snorted with a roll of her eyes. “Last time you and Jimmy saw each other, you got into an argument and ended up making out.”

“It’s not my fault you walked in on us!” Sausage exclaimed with a playful smirk. “You’re just jealous you’re not the one to kiss him. You know, he does this really hot thing with his tongue–”

“Shut up!” Gem pressed her palms against her ears, turning away from him. “Nope! I don’t need to hear this!”

“But Gemmm!” Sausage draped an arm over Gem’s shoulders, blue eyes twinkling with mischief. 

Jimmy and Sausage have a very messy and complicated dating history that honestly gave Fwhip a headache to think about. No matter how many times they fought, Sausage always managed to win back Jimmy, even if it was only for a night. Fwhip was aware that Jimmy’s other partners, Katherine, Joel, and Pix, disapproved, but they also couldn’t stop her anymore than the WRA could stop Sausage. Technically, what they were doing didn’t hurt anybody. It just made it extremely awkward for Gem and Pearl to try and foster a relationship beyond friendship with Katherine and Lizzie respectively.

WRA didn’t have any in-band dating going on– at least, not now, but anything could happen in the future– much unlike Cod Alliance. They were in a big string of polyamorous relationships, only further complicated by Fwhip’s bandmates crushing on some of them as well. Fwhip had to admit that he and Jimmy also had a bit of a thing going on at one point, but that had since ended.

Fwhip wasn’t necessarily against being in a polyamorous or open relationship, but he did tend to learn more towards monogamy himself. Part of it was probably due to their grayromantism, making it so they didn’t experience romantic attraction for others very frequently. When it did hit them, though, it usually came at them like a freight train, hard and fast. They still had a hard time identifying it when it came, unfortunately.

Sausage, Gem, and Pearl (they dragged her in at some point) continued to bicker, as they often did, while they put away their instruments. Fwhip shook his head fondly, but he didn’t engage. He would normally love to join in, but he wasn’t feeling up to it at the moment. He finished packing up his guitar before them, so he put in his wireless earbuds and pulled out his phone to scroll through his socials. 

Fwhip followed a lot of music related tags, especially ones specific to their area. When browsing through a series of photos and videos, he must have lingered too long on one because one of the videos started to automatically play. The video opened with a melancholic solo guitar, a much more moody style of country music than Fwhip typically listened to, but he found himself drawn in. The allure only increased when the artist began to sing, his voice enchantingly beautiful.

Intrigued, Fwhip clicked open his profile. Their jaw dropped at the follower count for just a second, before they quickly recovered, playing it cool before anyone could ask what he was looking at. He had several thousand more followers than WRA did! Looking a bit deeper, that was no surprise. The account was filled with aesthetic pictures and videos, usually including music and some sort of pretty imagery. WRA’s was more to share information about their gigs than anything else.

The profile belonged to someone named Scott Smajor. Fwhip left the app to search the name on Mezalea Music, the current top music streaming app. Unsurprisingly at this point in his search, Scott was there with a fairly impressive following for an independent artist. Fwhip pressed the shuffle button and they were instantly greeted by Scott’s pretty singing voice. His voice seemed to scratch Fwhip’s brain in all the right places, making them want to melt into it.

They switched back to their social app to put a face to the name and voice. It wasn’t hard to find for there were several recurring photos of who Fwhip assumed was all Scott. The music paused when the video started, showing the singer strumming on an acoustic guitar covered with custom decals. When the singer opened his mouth, Fwhip could instantly tell it was him.

Scott was as stunning as his voice would suggest. He had fair skin that was partly flushed red from exposure to the sun-- almost like he had done it on purpose with blush. His eyes were an icy blue, though his features were soft and sad, not cold. Fwhip wasn’t sure how, but he pulled it off. Scott’s dyed cyan blue hair was wavy and reached down to his shoulders. Fwhip could get lost staring at him forever.

The end of one of Gem’s arm crutches poked Fwhip’s side, startling them out of their trance. They turned off their phone and removed one of their earbuds, looking up at their sister, though music still played in the other ear. “Yes?”

“We’re ready to leave.” Gem jutted her head in Sausage and Pearl’s direction, who were chatting by the door. “I don’t know about you, but I would like to get home and off my feet. You can get distracted by your phone in the car.”

Fwhip opened his mouth to respond when Joey burst through the backstage door. 

“Don’t worry,” Fwhip told him, “we were just leaving.” “You’re running slow,” Joey huffed briefly with a shake of his head, “but no matter! Your tardiness benefits me this time. I wanted to be the first to inform you of the competition I’m putting on."

“Competition?” Gem parroted, furrowing her eyebrows. “What competition?”

“A coin flipping competition, duh,” Joey responded before rolling his eyes. “No, dumbass, a music competition. I’m a music gay talking to other musical queers. What else would it be? It’s in three months, but sign-ups are open now. Just got confirmation that we’re good to go, which is why I’m telling you all now.”

“Is there a prize?” Pearl inquired. Pearl had always enjoyed some friendly competition… maybe a little too much. Gem ended up keeping a running tally of stupid bets the band still had active on her phone, twelve and counting, and most of them were Pearl’s fault.

“What kind of competition would it be without a prize?” Joey puffed out his chest, looking extremely pleased with himself. “An old friend of mine is looking for some new talent for his record label, so I told him I have tabs on multiple other bands in the area, especially the ones working at my club. One thing led to another and we’re hosting a competition together. We will have a panel of judges, ticket sales, just everything! It will be absolutely gorgeous and bring in more business for me. It’s a win-win! So, you’ll sign up, yeah?” The four of them glanced between each other, looking for signs of protest, before Sausage spoke up. “Oh, yes, we would love to.”

“Okay, wonderful!” Joey grinned ear to ear. “The sign up form is on Empires’ socials, which I’m sure all of you follow. I expect to see your submission soon or I will have to talk to you again after your shift tomorrow!” “We’ll get right on that,” Fwhip promised. He took one look at Gem and realized by the way she was shuffling on her arm crutches that her fatigue levels were at their limit. It was clear to him that they needed to get a move on. She'd said it was a good day this morning, but rehearsing always took it out of her, and Fwhip could read that off her face easily– especially considering they still lived together. She couldn't hide it from him even if she tried. 

“Perfect, now shoo!” Joey flicked his hands out towards them twice. “I’m trying to run a bar here.”

Not wanting to get on his bad side, they did as they were told, scurrying out to Sausage’s car. The four of them chatted about the competition the entire car ride to Fwhip and Gem’s apartment, and Fwhip participated, but he still had Scott Smajor’s music playing in his ear.

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Scott ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

Yelling was, unfortunately, something Scott Smajor was quite familiar with. For as long as he could remember, it had been part of his life. He'd always tried to avoid raised voices as best he could, hoping he'd stay under their radar and that they would forget about him just enough to help him stay out of needing the therapy he likely still should sign up for. His “golden child” avoidance strategy only semi-worked because Xornoth, his older brother, took most of the heat.

Xornoth protected him from a lot. Scott hadn’t always realized it, especially back when their father, Exor, and their uncle, Aeor, got into his head. They each wanted to mold Scott and Xornoth into their own image, absolutely stuck in their own ways. They'd hate to be compared, but they both had a god complex a mile wide and their egos were far too easy to inflate. It was... not easy to live with. 

Scott could recall several times (usually when the yelling far escalated beyond simply yelling) where Xornoth would promise that, once he was old enough, he would get them out of there. The yelling in Scott’s life had reduced significantly when Xornoth turned eighteen. He kept true to his promise, taking Scott with him when he left the small farm they lived at for most of their childhoods. They couldn’t afford to move very far (they moved closer to town than the more rural-esque area they resided in their youth) so “home sweet home” wasn’t too far away, but Exor and Aeor tended to stay out of their lives… for the most part, anyway.

“How many times do I need to tell you ‘no’, old man?” Xornoth snapped, his face contorting with fury. He tugged at his long, dyed purple hair, trying to ground himself. Scott noticed a few strands snapped by the action, but he didn’t say anything. He’d had the habit for years; Scott knew it would be hard to shake. “You may have been able to drag me into that shit when I still lived with you, but I’m not facing jail time because you need someone to take the fall.”

Scott quietly picked out a little musical line on his guitar, seeing if he liked how it sounded, before jotting it down in his songwriting notebook. Phrases and half finished phrases hummed from his lips as he thought out loud to himself. It was all a part of his process. Xornoth’s conversation with Exor was merely background noise; Scott was used to finding focus in their chaos.

“‘I wouldn’t put you in harm’s way.’ Oh, you have other guys for that?” Xornoth mocked before scoffing. “Like I believe that, asshole. You know I’ve already been in juvie, I can’t risk– Exor, I swear I will– What kind of father gets their eleven year old to deal drugs? Or brings their thirteen year old along to a fucking armed robbery for ‘experience’? Go bother someone else and stop calling me. I’m tired of blocking your numbers and ignoring your calls.”

Xornoth hung up the phone and tossed it down on the couch. It bounced off of the cushions and landed on the floor, though it didn’t appear damaged in any way. He groaned loudly, practically stomping over to the alcohol cabinet and swinging the door open. Xornoth considered his options for a moment before pulling out some whiskey. He turned toward Scott and held up the bottle. “Do you want any?” “Nope, go for it.” Scott wasn’t in the mood for alcohol, especially not whiskey. His preferred choice of drink was vodka with some sort of fruity mixer in it. Maybe some sort of cocktail, if he was in the mood.

“More for me,” Xornoth murmured, twisting off the cap most of the way before flicking it off. He brought the bottle’s rim up to his lips and shot some back with a sort of gurgling noise Scott recognized as Xornoth’s response to the cheap whiskey’s burning sensation.

“What did he want this time?” Scott inquired, passively strumming a few more chords. Neither Scott nor Xornoth referred to their father as ‘dad’ for he didn’t deserve that title. Exor was strictly referred to with he/him pronouns or by his first name. Well, they occasionally threw in she/her pronouns if they caught him being transphobic. That method managed to kick that “nasty habit” out of him real quick.

“Someone to do his dirty work.” Xornoth plopped down heavily on one of the arm chairs. He took another swig of the whiskey before setting the bottle down on the coffee table. “Tempted to block his new number too, but I don't want him coming over here again. I already had to change the locks this year and I don’t want to do it again.”

Nothing Scott could say would be new information, so he let silence fall between them besides the music coming from his guitar and the sound of pencil against paper.

“I like that tune so far,” Xornoth complimented after a moment, noticeably calmer than before. Either the whiskey had kicked in already or their time sitting peacefully allowed him to blow off enough steam. “Sounds good.” The ends of Scott’s lips twitched up at the praise, a warmth sparking in his chest. He knew his style of music wasn’t exactly Xornoth’s typical taste, so it felt extra pleasant to know Xornoth supported him and his dream of pursuing music. He always had, even when Scott was first starting out. “Thank you. One of the last songs I released got fairly popular, so I want to capitalize on its success and try to get something else out as well. I’ve been trying to fine tune some half-finished songs I’ve been messing around with for a while.”

Xornoth straightened up, his eyes brightening as Scott reminded him of something. He quickly got up to grab something before returning to hand Scott a flier. “There was a guy handing these out when I went to Empires Nightclub the other day.” “I thought you didn’t like that place?” Scott raised an eyebrow, partly amused as he took the flier from Xornoth. “Something about the nightclub’s owner coming on too strong? Or have you changed your mind?”

“Joey’s not that bad. I was just pissed off about something else that night and wasn’t in the mood.” Xornoth scrunched his nose. “I may have over exaggerated, but it’s whatever. Either way, nothing has happened or will ever happen between Joey and I, so don’t even think about it. They just have good drinks for a half decent price, and the music’s pretty alright as well.”

Scott turned his attention toward the flier. It was promoting a band competition with the prize being a record label. Scott would have to look into the fine print, of course, but the initial impression was fairly positive. They seemed to be looking for bands, which didn’t include Scott for he ran solo. Still, checking it out was an excuse to get himself to leave the apartment. 

“I’ll check it out,” Scott promised, setting the flier in his guitar case for safekeeping. “Thank you.” “No problem.” Xornoth appeared pleased with himself as he turned to grab the whiskey he had set aside before leaving the living room. He headed toward his bedroom, leaving Scott alone to work on his music in peace.

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Fwhip ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

Fwhip knew they would never get over what it's like to play for a crowd. There was a special type of adrenaline that would pump through their veins that they couldn’t get quite the same doing anything else. Messing around with Gem, Pearl, and Sausage during practice was one thing, but these live gigs were something else entirely.

They were booked for three hours that night: three sets and got a ten minute break in between each. Reaching their first break, Fwhip wiped the sweat from their brow before chugging down a cold bottle of water Joey provided.

His eyes wandered over the crowd, not really paying attention to anything in particular until he caught a flash of cyan sitting in the corner. Fwhip squinted, attempting to focus on the figure and confirm his suspicion.

“Who are you looking at?” Gem asked, hitting the side of her arm crutches against his leg like she often did. Those things helped her walk, yes, but she enjoyed using them as assault weapons. Fwhip must have grown calves of steel at this point because it barely hurt anymore.

“I think the guy sitting over there is Scott Smajor.” Fwhip nodded in Scott’s direction– or they were fairly sure it was Scott, anyway. He had the same blue hair and fair skin. They tried to discern other details, but he was too far away and the lighting didn’t do them any favors. 

“That musician guy you’ve been obsessed with?” Gem gave him a knowing smirk before nudging his shoulder. “You should go talk to him.” “What? No!” Fwhip shook his head, waving his hands frantically in front of him. Scott looked busy writing down something in his notebook. Besides, they didn’t have too long before they had to start the next set.

“If you don’t go talk to him, I will,” Gem threatened with a gleam of mischief in her green eyes, and Fwhip couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. “I will tell him all about how you’ve developed a little celebrity crush on him–” “I have not!” Fwhip denied, wrinkling their nose. They stared at each other for a long moment before Fwhip groaned. He took another sip of water before pushing himself to his feet. “Fine, I’ll go talk to him. Just, don’t do that.” “Yay!” Gem cheered as Fwhip weaved his way through the crowd to get to Scott, very pleased with herself for her insignificant triumph.

Fwhip chose to ignore her, adjusting his signature red scarf. He paused for a moment, sniffing the scarf to make sure he didn’t smell too bad. The closer they got to the cyan haired man, the more they were sure it was him.

Before he had a chance to speak and introduce himself, Scott glanced up and noticed him. He gave them a polite smile before speaking in the very accent Fwhip had grown used to hearing from the speakers of their phone. “Hey, you’re Fwhip, right?” Fwhip blinked at him in surprise. “Yeah, I am. How did you know?” “I looked up who was going to be performing tonight before showing up,” Scott explained nonchalantly. “I’m impressed by your fingerpicking technique. Some of those songs moved very quickly, yet your fingers hit every note perfectly. I don’t think I saw or heard you stumble even once. You know, I wonder if that skill transfers to anything else.” Fwhip was caught off guard by the flirting tacked on at the end. He coughed to try and cover up his shock enough to respond. He didn’t wish to become a mess, at least not that quickly. “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with it so I’m glad it’s paying off. That’s some high praise, especially coming from another guitarist.”

Now it was Scott’s turn to blink in surprise. “How did you know?”

“Your fingertips are calloused, so I would assume you play some sort of string instrument,” Fwhip explained, “but I also found your music recently. I love finding indie artists, so when you stumbled upon my feed, I had to check you out. Your style isn’t what I typically go for, but I'm always open to expanding my horizons.” “Well, I appreciate it.” Scott swirled his drink as a small, pleased smile grew on his face. “Fortunately for you and your band, I enjoy a diverse amount of music, including folklore rock. I don’t typically come out to these sorts of things, though, but I told my brother I would check it out. He gave me a flier about the competition Empires Nightclub is hosting, which I assume you know about already.”

“Yeah, we’re going to take a shot at it.” Fwhip nodded in the direction of the stage. “The possibility of a record deal is too big to pass up.”

“That’s why my brother told me about it.” Scott sipped his drink, mildly dyeing his lips red from the fruity drink. Fwhip wondered (though he wouldn’t admit it) what it would taste like to kiss him, the phantom taste of sweet cherries, strawberries, and raspberries on his tongue. “I don’t think I will compete though. I’m doing fairly well on my own without a company backing me up.”

“Has no one offered you one yet?” Considering Scott’s follower count and musical talent, Fwhip was sure producers would have approached him. In this modern age, music labels loved snatching up people who already had a devoted online audience to build off of.

“They have, but I haven’t found one that didn’t want to trap me into an awful contract.” Scott shrugged, unconcerned. “I read the fineprint for this one, and the deal is actually a good one, so I’m rooting for you and the rest of the WRA. I thought about going for it, but they seem to be looking more for bands, not solo musicians.”

“Nah, c’mon! You could and should totally compete. You would have a good shot at winning!” Fwhip was confident in that, but he wasn’t going to push someone who he was still getting to know too hard. “If you’re adamant about that, you could try just playing here. It’s a good, regular gig to land; we play here often. Have you talked to Joey yet? The club owner?”

Scott hummed softly, considering the prospect as he surveyed the crowd, before giving his attention back to Fwhip. “I haven’t, but I wouldn’t be opposed. I’ve heard things.”

“I’ll introduce you,” Fwhip promised. “Or, I’ll at least tell Joey ‘bout you. If you give me your number, I can share it with Joey.”

“Smooth.” Even Scott’s laugh was musical and practically addicting to hear. Fwhip grinned, proud that he made Scott laugh. He wished to do it again several times over. “I don’t normally hand out my number, but for you, I’ll make an exception.”

“You’re just trying to butter me up so I put in an extra special word in with Joey.” Fwhip teased as he pulled out his phone.

“Is it working?” Scott fluttered his eyelashes, a playful smirk on his lips.

Scott’s icy blue eyes sparkled warmly at their back and forth– like moonlight through stained glass– and Fwhip wanted nothing more than to stare into them. His previous enchantment by the man standing in front of him didn’t feel as silly now that they were face to face.

“Maybe.” Fwhip passed his phone over to Scott, already open to the correct screen. As Scott typed in his information, Fwhip glanced back toward the stage. He knew he was pushing it on time already, but he did want to keep talking to Scott.

They made eye contact with Pearl, who tapped her finger against her wrist before mouthing “hurry up!”

They wrinkled their nose briefly before turning back to Scott, who promptly gave their phone back. “Are you planning to stick around?” Scott clicked his tongue in consideration, eyes shifting from Fwhip to the stage and back again. “I’ll be here when you finish your next set.”

“Awesome! See you then.” Fwhip grinned widely, suddenly feeling more energized than before. He headed back towards the stage, prepared to pour his heart and soul into his music as he often does, but even more excited to go back to talk to a certain blue haired guy.

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Scott ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

Scott hadn’t expected to stay at Empires too long that night, but he did, hours past what he had anticipated. He allowed himself to fall under the Wither Rose Alliance’s trance, making him unable to focus on his own lyrical writing. Scott didn’t find himself minding, contently under their spell. Besides, if he were to give an excuse, he would claim that tucking his notebook away allowed him to take note of how they played to properly compliment Fwhip in even more detail.

After WRA’s last set, Scott and Fwhip managed to chat a bit more before the violinist (he soon deduced her name was Pearl) dragged Fwhip off to go home. She shot a few teasing jabs at Fwhip, which amused Scott, but he had also been subject to a few looks himself.

Needless to say, Scott headed back to his and Xornoth’s apartment with a bigger smile than he could remember wearing in a long time. Xornoth even commented on it, gloating a bit about being right about Scott enjoying himself. Scott couldn’t even deny it. It’d only been a few weeks since they met, but Scott felt like he had known Fwhip for years. It was a strange sensation, yes, but it wasn’t unwelcomed.

“You’ve been smiling at your phone a lot.” Xornoth clicked his tongue, reminding Scott of his presence. “Tell me, have you developed a little crush on that red-headed guitarist?”

Scott scrunched his nose, glancing back at Xornoth as he opened the tab on his soda can. “How do you even know that’s who I’m texting? I could be texting literally anyone else.”

“Because I know you, little brother.” Xornoth came up behind Scott and ruffled his hair with his free hand. “You’re too much of a workaholic to text people back. At least, you were until you met them-”

Scott swatted their hand away before combing their fingers through the blue locks to try and fix the damage inflicted on it. “He’s just a friend and a fellow guitarist. Plus, he got me a well-paying gig at the nightclub you liked so much.”

“Yeah, and I’m the protagonist of a preteen, slow burn, baby’s first monsterfucker fantasty romance.” Xornoth fake-gagged, plopping down on the couch nearby. “But, sure, don’t tell me. Just make sure to use protection.”

Scott tried his best to bite back his blush as he tossed a throw pillow at Xornoth. A surge of pride washed over him when the pillow hit Xornoth exactly where he had aimed for. Before Xornoth could protest more than a “Hey!”, Scott fled to his room, out of Xornoth’s pillow projectile range, muffling his giggles all the while. 

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Fwhip ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

Fwhip wasn’t a songwriter and they were okay with that. It wasn’t their passion nor their strength, and that was fine. That didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy messing around with chords and lyrics to try and create a song from time to time, even if it wouldn’t be something he could perform with his band.

They often stayed away from such a thing, but Scott’s encouragements were so genuine and inspiring (probably because they came from Scott Smajor, someone known for his sound and meaningful lyrics) that Fwhip couldn’t imagine abandoning any project they mentioned to Scott.

“It just isn’t flowing and I don’t get it,” Fwhip complained loudly. He was laying on his bed with his phone by his head and Scott on speaker. “It’s meant to be a duet, but the two parts aren’t complimenting each other like I intended. I’m honestly sick of hearing my own voice recording.”

“You? Sick of your own voice? I never would have guessed,” Scott teased lightheartedly with a laugh. Fwhip simply huffed in response, but he wasn’t upset at Scott’s words. “You’re at home, right? How about you go grab your guitar and we can fiddle around with it.”

Fwhip hesitated for a brief moment before propping himself up to go retrieve his instrument. “You’re lucky Gem is out on a date right now. I never would play something so rough around her. She would never let me hear the end of it!”

It was an over exaggeration, sure, but it wasn’t that unlikely. Poking fun at one another was just a thing they did. Gem wasn’t much help with his music because the stringed instruments Fwhip played had different techniques than the keyed instruments Gem specialized in. This just left them to vaguely pointing out things that sounded off and hoping for the best.

“Her date with Katherine, correct?” Scott asked to confirm, which Fwhip appreciated. He was slowly becoming a part of Fwhip’s friend group, yes, but even before that, Scott was making an attempt to keep mental notes on the people Fwhip mentioned. Scott actually did a good job at it, especially considering half of Fwhip’s friend group was in a sort of web composed of various polyamorous (both romantic and queerplatonic), platonic, and familial relationships. Even Fwhip struggled to know who was with who some days (especially with Sausage and Jimmy… doing their thing) and he’s known them all forever!

“Yeah, you got it!” Fwhip nodded as he settled back down on his bed and propped up his phone to video call with Scott. “Gem has been crushing on her for awhile, but chickened out on telling her several times despite me telling her to just do it already! Katherine clearly has a lot of love to give, considering she’s already dating Lizzie and Jimmy and is so affectionate with her friends. Katherine is also one of my closest friends out of the lot of ‘em, so, believe me, I would know.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Scott replied before sending the request through to Fwhip for them to switch to video. Fwhip leaned forward to accept it and waited for their phones to switch over. When it did, Scott was revealed to be sitting with his custom guitar already sitting on his lap. “Okay, show me what you got.”

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Scott ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

Scott wasn’t sure when the switch flipped from not really having friends to suddenly being accepted into a gigantic friend group. It was sometime after meeting Fwhip– a good few weeks, that was for sure– but the line of them being Fwhip’s friends to being his friends was too blurred to pinpoint.

Seemingly without Fwhip’s knowledge, several of them DMed him and they got to talking outside of their relations with Fwhip. Not to mention that he’s gotten to know several of them face-to-face at Empires between gigs and simply being invited out. Scott hasn’t taken any of them up on that, though. He’s been keeping his distance, feeling as if he were intruding, but they weren’t ready to just accept Scott’s reluctance just like that.

That was proven by Joey insisting time and time again that Scott should go out on the town with him, which Scott always wormed his way out of. That was, he had succeeded until Joey showed up at his apartment one evening. 

“I can’t have my performers living like hermits!” Joey always had a sense for the dramatics, but Scott could tell he genuinely cared about those who worked for him even if he didn’t always show it like a normal person would. “You need friends and to have fun every once in a while.” “I have friends,” Scott insisted, though he knew that most of his friendships were still fairly surface-level. The deepest he’s gotten with anyone was Fwhip and, even then, there were still some walls up. 

Joey gave him a pointed look before pushing past Scott to slip into his apartment. “I know your whole thing is ‘gay moody country boy’, but the mood doesn’t have to be depressing all of the time!”

“Joey, you can’t just barge into my place!” Scott exclaimed, following Joey as he beelined to Scott’s room. His door was decorated, making it well-labeled. “How did you even know where I live?”

“I have connections,” Joey replied nonchalantly as he swung open Scott’s closet doors. He started to sift through Scott’s outfits with precision and skill. “Besides, if I don’t drag you out, you’ll never have fun!” “I have fun!” Scott insisted defensively. Still though, he switched out his piercings for something a tad more dolled up in preparation of being dragged out against his will.

“Mhm,” Joey hummed, doubtful. “Sure you do. Now have you agreed to come or am I going to have to get Sausage to throw you over his shoulder?”

“Sausage?” Scott echoed, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why Sausage? He’s not even here.”

“Void knows I won’t be doing it!” Joey huffed, amused. He gestured at himself, already dressed for going out clubbing. Granted, he was always dressed up like that. Scott didn’t know if Joey knew what a casual, comfort-over-style outfit was. “This body wasn’t made for manual labor. Now how about this one?”

Scott eyed the blouse Joey selected, considering it for a moment. “Yeah, okay, hand it over.” “Perfect!” Joey practically jumped for joy as he handed the blouse to Scott. “The pants you’re wearing now are fine, so just get some shoes on. We’re supposed to meet up with Sausage and Gem soon.”

Scott turned so his back was to Joey to secure himself that minimal amount of privacy before stripping himself of his top and pulling the blouse on. “They’re coming too?” “Yeah, Sausage and I are besties, so we go out frequently, but we wanted to switch it up a tad. Add some new faces, you know.” Joey whistled at Scott when he turned around, eyes wandering down Scott’s body. “Okay, damn! Hey there, sexy.”

“You say that like I don’t always dress well.” Scott rolled his eyes, not really offended. Joey was the type to comment on other’s outfits like that so he knew it was intended to be a genuine compliment over anything else. “We can go now. Just let me tell my brother I’m leaving so he knows I’m not home.”

“Xornoth, right? Hot goth guy with purple hair?” Joey straightened up at the mention. “Is he here?” Scott sucked in his lips briefly before deciding to avoid the question. “I’ll meet you outside, Joey.”

Joey was on his phone outside the apartment complex when Scott approached him, and, when Joey noticed Scott’s presence, he grinned widely. “Perfect timing! Sausage just pulled in.”

He grabbed Scott’s hand and dragged him along to Sausage’s sedan. Joey called shotgun and left Scott to sit in the back next to a ginger who reminded him a lot of Fwhip.

“Oh!” Scott put a few pieces together with the recognition of the woman sitting beside him. “Gem! Fwhip’s sister, right? The keyboardist of WRA?”

“Yeah, you got it,” Gem confirmed. She was wearing a green dress with purple crystal accessories and her hair was tied into a long braid. “And you’re Scott. My brother hasn’t stopped talking about you.” Scott ignored the heat he felt on his cheeks at that. “He hasn’t?”

“Nope.” Gem popped the P before lowering the register of her voice, leaning in toward Scott. “Hurt him and I hurt you. Understood?”

Scott blinked at her rapidly, caught a bit off guard. Her threat was clear, and Scott didn’t want to be on the receiving end of whatever that ended up being. Besides, considering how his relationship was going with Fwhip, he didn’t want to piss off their sister. “Understood.” “Good.” Gem brightened up before glancing at the two chatting away in the front seat. “Now do you know where they’re taking us?”

Scott had not known any specifics, leaving Gem and Scott left to the wills of their captors. He had learned that Sausage also dragged Gem out of her apartment to go out with them. They were both in this together, and it gave Gem and Scott a chance to get to know one another better.

They must’ve gotten to know each other a bit too well, because they woke up to birds chirping and the rising sun on their faces. Scott groaned, sitting up from the tree he was leaning against with a hand pressed against his head. It took a second to register, but he was near positive he was hungover and he was not enjoying the feeling.

Gem stirred beside him, muttering nonsense that Scott couldn’t understand. He poked her side and she woke up with a start. “What happened? Where are we?” “Shhh, not so loud.” Scott shushed her, his head pounding aggressively. He squinted at his surroundings. “Where are-?”

Before he could finish his question, Scott realized someone had spotted them. He squinted at them too, as the person approached, trying to place them in his foggy memory.

"There you two are!" the person called, their voice so very familiar.

Gem rubbed the sleep from her eyes before asking, "...Jimmy?"

“Yeah, yeah, I found them,” Jimmy spoke to someone who wasn’t one of them. That is when Scott realized she was holding a phone to her ear. “Here, I’ll put you on speaker while I check they aren’t hurt.”

The person on the other end spoke something to Jimmy before he placed them on speaker and set down his phone. The Caller I.D. read off Pearl’s name, but another voice came over the line that wasn’t Pearl’s, if Scott’s memory was serving correctly. It should be, but his mind was still hazy from inadequate sleep and alcohol.

“Are you out of your mind?” Jimmy snapped at the person on the phone, causing Scott to wince. She muttered an apology to Scott before going back to her conversation with no-longer-Pearl and checking for wounds on Gem. “Sausage, you and Joey lost two drunk people and we couldn’t find them for hours.”

“I’m sorry, mi amor!” Sausage pleaded over the call. “Next time I see you, I’ll kiss it better.” “I don’t want to talk to you,” Jimmy grumbled, sounding totally over him. “Either put Pearl back on the phone or I’m hanging up on you.” “But, Jimmy-” Before Sausage could finish speaking, Jimmy hung up. Not acknowledging it, he turned his attention from Gem to Scott. “Okay, you both look fine. Can you walk?” “I can probably stand, but I don’t see my arm crutches….” Gem used the tree to try and push herself to her feet, though she was fairly unstable. “Ugh, I need some water. And a nap. Another one. Preferably in a bed this time.” “Me too,” Scott agreed, his body aching from sleeping on the ground.

“My apartment is nearby. I’ll just let Lizzie and Joel know that I’m bringing you, and you can nap the hangover off there,” Jimmy offered, moving Gem’s arm over his shoulders to help her walk.

Gem leaned into Jimmy’s support, leaving Scott to walk on his own. Luckily, he’s had his fair share of hangovers and was otherwise able bodied so he was stable enough to walk on his own. He was passively concerned where Gem’s arm crutches ended up though…  “Thanks, Jimmy.”

Scott was fairly sure Jimmy replied with “You’re welcome” or something along those lines, but he honestly wasn’t sure. That was the last thing he remembered before he woke up again, snuggled under the covers within an ocean themed bedroom. Scott didn’t dwell on it, keeping his eyes closed and relishing in the bed’s comfort. He would deal with the repercussions of whatever was waiting for him later.

𓆩♪⛧₊˚ Fwhip ﾟ₊⛧♪ 𓆪

Fwhip felt like they were on the top of the world. It may be a little silly to feel that way for winning a competition, but that competition was a big deal for his band! WRA was moving up in the world and it only filled him with determination, motivation, and energy. Cultivating that energy, Fwhip sat down to polish the song he had been working on for a while now.

Scott helped him out with some parts, and now, thanks to him, the chords flowed perfectly and the lyrics matched. The chords flowed perfectly and the lyrics matched. The song was a duet, and he’s heard both parts played together by recording himself and then layering them, but it wasn’t the same. Fwhip wanted to hear the song as intended, and he could only think of one person that would fit the part perfectly.

That led to Fwhip asking Scott to meet him at Empires during the day. He got permission from Joey, as long as Fwhip got the keys back in a timely manner. After all the continuous daydreaming of Scott, his singing voice, and his guitar playing skills, Fwhip finally worked up the courage to ask him and it was starting to pay off.

“Do you like it?” Fwhip asked shyly as Scott looked over the sheet music.

“Like it?” Scott parroted with a laugh. “Fwhip, I love it. This is amazing! It has the folk rock elements you’re used to, but there’s also inspiration from my style of music. Theoretically, it blends together perfectly.”

“Oh,” Fwhip blinked, before leaning forward to look down at his own handwriting again. “What would make it no longer theoretical?” If Scott had notes on how to improve it, Fwhip would absolutely take them into consideration.

“Playing it and seeing how it sounds together.” Scott grinned as retrieved his guitar, threw the strap over his head, and set the guitar in his lap. 

They didn’t waste anymore time to start playing. The spirit of the music overtook them, bliss swelling within them and being poured onto every stroke of the strings. Fwhip didn’t consider himself a good singer, but Scott had a way of complimenting Fwhip’s voice and making him sound even better than he actually was.

Fwhip knew the lyrics and chords by heart, so he didn’t need to rely on reading the sheet music to help guide him. This meant that they stared at Scott, all their focus on the beautiful man across from him. When the song ended, Scott turned his attention to Fwhip, catching them staring at him.

“You’re incredible,” Fwhip admitted with a breathless whisper.

Scott laughed an airy, baffled laugh, his cheeks flushing a light pink. “Me? Fwhip, this was all you. Sure, I helped a little, but this is still your song. I’m just honored you picked me to play it with you.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Fwhip asked, blushing dark red. Before he could overthink it, he took his shot. “It is about you, after all. About… us.”

The song was about new relationships and getting to know someone that they previously admired. It contained lots of subtle praises and compliments that Fwhip knew Scott was smart enough to pick up on. He just wouldn’t have known that Fwhip meant those things genuinely about Scott.

Fwhip wasn't sure when they had drifted so close to each other, closing the distance, but... here they were, only a few inches apart. His eyes flicked to Scott's lips, then back up to Scott's icy blue eyes. Icy yet glittering with such beautiful warmth.

“Can I kiss you?” “I thought you would never ask,” Scott murmured in return, leaning down to lock their lips together. As the kiss deepened, Scott climbed onto Fwhip’s lap with his legs around Fwhip’s waist and Fwhip’s hands supporting Scott’s back. A three-legged metal stool was probably not the best place for two people to make out, but Fwhip couldn’t care less right now. All he knew was that he felt happy. Everything was looking up for him and he couldn’t wait to see where everything led to next. The future held many opportunities and experiences to be had, and Fwhip was more than ready to brave the unknown with Scott by his side.

[hypnosis-sekai]

i wanna make my ocs an account but someone pick which one!! Pls rb ur pick!! (Or commentk)

Paw | Note - an animal caretaking club making music to protect Animals from harm.

Emi Satoshi - Leader of Paw|Note! She ran away from her step mother who's trying to find Emi.

Chikao Haminari - The fearful second member of Paw|Note! Emi's best friend!

Yui Miki - A girl with a very toxic boyfriend :( Chaotic and feisty, but really interested in Kairi♪

Kairi Hashuren /Funai - trans cat lover! Interested in Yui aswell, really hates Yui's boyfriend

D1SC - A group of boys who became DJS to finally change their reputation and selves.

Jodi Tanaka - heterochromia little brother of Koyo! The shortest character apparently

Haruka Kazama - kind guy, popular, a literal joke

Kaida Akamine - People are a bit scared of him since he looks so scary, but he's actually kind!

Koji Funai - Trans too. He helped Kairi figure out herself! He's also Kairi's adoptive brother!

Our Morning's Glory - Group of classical musicians that wanna surpass an Opera.

Taiyo Nakahara - tsukasa tenma but less pathetic, plays the violin

Seiji Higa - toya aoyagi but less pathetic, he admires Toya's dad btw, plays the piano

Kaiko Oishi - Inari's childhood friend, she tried to save Inari from her extremely controlling family, plays the flute.

Inari Tanoe - Once a puppet ,that finally got it's strings cut because of Kaiko. Plays the harp

Fantasia - group of magicians wanting to make others smile!

Chihiro Haminari - Chikao's older brother, they were once distant so he learnt magic to make her smile again

Touji Uyeno - rui kamishiro but has dissociative amnesia

Aiko Shima - nene kusanagi without a robot and has two adoptive siblings (the tanakas)

Suki Koshi ; emu ootori, slightly insaner

NeoGlow - Group of online artists that make games together!

Misato Nagihara (Agari) - dating naomi

Naomi Moromiya (Najimi) - dating misatk

Saaya Airamatsu (Yamai) - dating reika

Reika Fujimura (Nakanaka) - dating saaya

Flower3tte - Group of online artists! (this is a collaborated group that i made with my wives:3)

Koyo Tanaka (Himi) - uhh check novannon she has too much content

[alygator77]

♬♪ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : beat of my heart ♬♪

♬ pairing. college au // drummer! gojo x psychology major! reader (f)

♬ summary. being a psychology major with a passion for music, you're no stranger to chaos—between juggling school, caring for your mother, and working at a local music shop, you've learned to keep your cool. but when a cocky drummer pushes your patience to the limit, a chance encounter with satoru gojo—an enigmatic, sharp-tongued musician—turns your world upside down. as you're drawn to his dangerous charm, an unexpected connection deepens, but so do the secrets you've both been running from. will you get caught up in his rhythm before you realize it’s too late?

♬ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, slow burn, smut, angst with comfort, some fluff, readers mom has dementia, mentions of suicide, alcohol/weed usage, unresolved trauma, commitment issues

♬ words: 7.3k

♬ a/n. hi lovelies, welcome to the debut of this fic :) very excited to explore this dynamic between satoru and y/n, thanks for reading ♡

♬ taglist: open

series masterlist ♬ next chapter → pending...

ch 1 // the first measure

“Emotional regulation is defined as the process by which individuals influence the emotions they experience, when they experience them, and how they express them in response to different stimuli.”

Staring at the neatly printed words in your psychology textbook, your mind automatically begins to dissect the concept.

Emotional regulation. The holy grail of human behavior, wrapped neatly in clinical terms. It’s the ability to keep yourself in check, to craft a perfect mask that hides what’s boiling beneath the surface. The world only gets to see what you allow. If it were as easy as the textbook made it sound, half your classes wouldn’t exist.

Letting out a breath, you sink deeper into your chair.

People aren’t simple equations you can balance, after all—people are… complicated.

Emotions, even more so.

They ebb and flow like unpredictable tides, swelling when you least expect them, crashing down when you think you’ve regained control. They are messy, stubborn, and relentless—especially when the brain stops following its own rules.

Your mothers face comes to mind—uninvited. Her once-bright eyes are now dull with confusion, emotions flickering in and out like static on a broken TV. Dementia has stolen the filter that once kept her reactions in line with reality. It’s as if her mind is betraying her, one piece at a time.

You press your fingers against the pages of the textbook. Will any amount of psychology truly prepare you to untangle the complexities of the human mind? Can it allow you to help her—or at least understand her—before she’s lost entirely?

Before you can sink further into that thought, an ear-splitting crash reverberates through the store, jolting you back into the present. Glancing up with a sigh, the peaceful hum of the music store is shattered by the clumsy cacophony of someone abusing a drum kit like it owes him money.

Clearly, emotional regulation isn’t on that guy’s radar.

Yet, somehow, you’ve grown used to it. Working part-time here has taught you how to tune out chaos, as if the dissonance of the store has become its own kind of background music.

It’s chaotic, but it’s your kind of chaos.

The strings of guitars being tested, the pounding of drum kits, the chattering of customers—it all blends into a rhythm you no longer notice.

You’ve been working part-time in this quaint little music shop for so long that silence has become unsettling. If it’s too quiet, your mind starts wandering, spiraling into places you don’t always want to go. And so, the chaos is your anchor—it helps you focus, keeps you present.

Studying in silence feels foreign.

“Ugh… I have such a headache,” Utahime’s voice breaks through your thoughts, her hand pressing to her temple. Standing a few feet away, she shoots a glare towards the drum section. “He’s been at it for practically an hour now. Like… come on. Is he trying to destroy that kit or learn how to play it?”

Glancing up from your textbook, you eyes land on a brawny guy with jet-black hair, slamming away on the drums with no sense of rhythm, no control—just brute force.

“Has it really been that long?” you ask, blinking at the scene. The noise had faded into the background for you, becoming just another layer of the store’s soundtrack.

Utahime gives you a look that screams disbelief.

“You didn’t notice?”

You shrug.

“Guess I’ve learned to tune it out.”

“Tch… wish I could do that,” she rolls her eyes, rubbing her temples like the sound is physically burrowing into her skull. “That guy is killing me.”

Oh, shit. Now that your attention is focused, you notice just how bad it really is. It’s not just noise—it’s borderline offensive to music. He’s not even playing the drums—he’s assaulting them—completely unaware of the sonic devastation he’s unleashing on the store.

Utahime lets out another long, exasperated groan, her entire body sagging as she leans forward in defeat.

“I swear, if he keeps going, I’m going to snap,” her elbows rest on the counter, and she presses her forehead into her hands. “y/nnnn,” she whines, lifting her head just enough to glimpse at you. “Can you please do something?”

Glancing around the store, you catch the irritated looks of other customers—one guy near the synthesizers is glaring openly at the drummer, his hand gripping a set of headphones so tightly you half expect him to snap them in half.

It’s like the whole store is holding its breath, waiting for someone—anyone—to make it stop.

A sigh escapes your lips as you close your textbook. It’s one thing to tune out the chaos when you’re focused on studying, but now that you’re paying attention, the noise feels like an assault on your senses too. You can’t blame Utahime for losing her patience—though she’s never been one to take matters into her own hands.

“Fine, I’ll handle it,” you mutter, pushing yourself up from your seat.

“Oh, thank God,” she breathes, finally peeling her hands away from her temples. “Please, work your magic. Before we all go deaf.”

You roll your eyes internally, though you can’t help the grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Magic. Sure—that’s one way to put it.

What Utahime calls ‘magic’ is really just years of learning how to manage other people’s shit without losing your cool.

It’s not magic—it’s survival. A skill you’ve honed out of necessity, not desire. And sure, maybe your love for psychology helps—you’ve got the theories to back up the practice—but most days it feels more like wrangling toddlers who never learned how to grow up.

Taking a steady breath, you step into the fray, weaving through the store’s labyrinth of instruments and displays. As you get closer, the vibrations from the drums rattle through your bones, crawling up your spine. The sound is unbearable, like nails on a chalkboard amplified through a megaphone.

The guy doesn’t even look up, his head bent low over the drum kit, raven hair falling in messy strands across his forehead. His arms move with the rhythm of someone who has no idea what rhythm actually is, and the muscles in his forearms ripple with each heavy-handed strike as he slams the sticks down like he’s personally offended by the drums.

You stand off to the side for a moment, watching him have at it. You’ve dealt with a lot of difficult people working here, but this guy? He’s so oblivious to the fact that the rest of the store is on the verge of mutiny.

Clearing your throat, you raise your voice, hoping to break through his focus.

“Excuse me!”

Nothing.

Another crash of the cymbals, loud enough to rattle your skull. Your jaw tightens as you try again, this time louder.

“Excuuuuse me!”

Still nothing. He’s completely in his own world, bashing away with reckless abandon. It’s like he’s in a vacuum, utterly disconnected from the chaos he’s creating around him.

Jesus this guy… your patience thins and you step closer—close enough now to feel the heat radiating off him from his overexertion. His shirt clings to his back with sweat, and the muscles in his arms continue to ripple with each reckless swing of the drumsticks.

He’s not just playing hard—he’s playing like he’s got something to prove.

As you reach out to tap his shoulder, you try to keep your touch firm but not aggressive, although, the moment your fingers make contact with him, his entire body jerks—drumsticks freezing mid-air as he whips his head around to face you.

His dark eyes lock onto yours, sharp and filled with a flicker of annoyance.

“What?” he snaps, voice dripping with irritation.

Keeping your expression neutral, you try not to let his attitude get to you.

“You’ve been at this for a while,” you begin, as calm as you can manage. “We have a limited selection and there are other customers who may be wanting to try this kit.”

His eyes narrow, clearly unimpressed.

“So?” he drawls, waving the drumsticks lazily, like your request is beneath him.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you press your lips together in protest. Stay professional, you remind yourself. Shifting your weight slightly, you square your shoulders and look him directly in the eyes.

“So,” you continue, voice firmer this time, “store policy is thirty minutes per instrument. You’ve been playing for over an hour.”

A low, sarcastic laugh bubbles from his chest, the sound filled with mockery as he tilts his head back slightly.

“And… what are you gonna do about it?” leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his knees like he's settling for a show—eyes glimmering with amusement as his lips curl into a smirk. “Throw me out?”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek—every fiber of your being is itching to knock this guy down a peg.

Ugh. What a tool.

The condescension in his voice grates on you like sandpaper, but you force yourself to stay composed.

“Look…store policy is pretty clear,” you reply evenly, nodding towards the sign behind the counter. “You either give someone else a turn, or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Your words seem to pique his interest—his smirk widens, eyes flicking over you slowly, appraisingly. Suddenly you’re more interesting to him than this drum set. He pushes himself off the stool in a slow, deliberate movement, and you hold your breath the moment he towers over you.

He’s by no means, a small guy.

The light behind him is blocked from his broad shoulders, and there’s a new edge to his gaze now. The moment he invades your space, it is just a little too close for comfort.

“Oh yeah?” your stomach turns from the low suggestive timber of his voice, “And what if I don’t feel like leaving, sweetheart? You gonna make me?”

Ick.

This guy might take the cake for being the most difficult prick you’ve had to deal with here, and that’s saying something. Working in this music shop, you’ve come across a lot of full of themselves wannabees, praising themselves like the next big thing—acting like God’s gift to music when all they want to play over and over again is ‘Stairway to Heaven,’ and ‘Wonderwall.’

A surge of discomfort ripples through your body, but you stand your ground. You know how this goes—he wants a reaction, and you’re not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“Look dude, I’m not asking,” your tone sharpens, leaving no room for argument. “This is your last warning”

His eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise, and a low whistle escapes his lips, as if he’s impressed—but it’s the kind of faux admiration that makes your skin crawl.

“You’re a tough one, huh?” he muses, chuckling softly.

Leaning in, the heat of his breath brushes against your skin as he invades your space once again—far too close for comfort—and you feel his gaze sweep over you slowly, lingering in a way that feels slimy and unwelcome.

“I like a girl with a little fire,” he adds, voice dropping lower. “It always makes things more fun.”

Gross.

Your hands curl into fists by your sides and you fight the urge to recoil as a surge of revulsion twists through you like a knife.

But before you can respond—before you even have the chance to formulate the sharp retort already forming on your tongue—the air shifts and a new voice cuts in.

“Wow, did I just walk in on the world’s worst pickup line, or are we about to throw hands over a drum kit?”

Turning your head towards the source of the voice, your eyes land on a tall figure standing a few feet away—his hair is a striking shade of snowy white, messy and untamed, falling in tousled strands that almost brush against the black sunglasses obscuring his eyes, and even with his face partially hidden, there’s no mistaking the mischievous glint tugging at the corners of his mouth—like he’s watching the scene unfold for his own amusement.

Despite the casual nature of his appearance—jeans slung low, a loose-fitting hoodie—there’s something undeniably striking about him. It’s the kind of presence that demands attention without asking for it

Who the hell is this guy?

Clearly irritated by the interruption, the drummer straightens up—his smirk faltering as he sizes up the newcomer.

“This doesn’t concern you, man,” he growls, tight with irritation. “I’m just having a little conversation with her.”

The snowy stranger’s grin turns sharp, though his voice remains light.

“Yeeeah, see, that’s where you’re wrong,” he steps up beside you, and without hesitation, his arm slips around your waist, pulling you smoothly into his side like you’ve always belonged there. “Everything concerning her concerns me.”

Your heart skips a beat, caught off guard by the sudden, possessive gesture. Part of you bristles at the boldness, but another part… feels oddly safe in his grasp—like he’s been by your side forever.

There’s a shift in the atmosphere as the drummer's eyes narrow—like the balance of power has tipped—the presence of this stranger throwing him off.

“Oh really? And just who the hell are you?” he snaps.

Your mysterious stranger doesn’t miss a beat—he chuckles softly, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his eyes—brilliant, vivid blue, and gleaming with a spark that teeters between playful and dangerous. It’s the kind of look that makes your heart flip.

“Oh, me?” he feigns innocence with a nonchalant shrug, like this whole thing is just mildly amusing to him. “I’m nobody special.”

Sliding his sunglasses back into place, he casually pulls you in a bit closer, and you are met with the warmth of his body as he leans into you just slightly.

“Just here to make sure my girl doesn’t have to deal with assholes. Y’know how it is.”

Your mind scrambles to catch up.

Your girl? You blink, heat rushing to your cheeks as the words rolling off his tongue begin to register. You barely know this guy—hell, you don’t know him at all—and yet here he is, acting like the two of you are something.

But…maybe it’s working? Because the drummer’s eyes narrow further, his expression twisting as a furrow darkens over his features. Ah…but then you realize he’s not focused on the claim your stranger just made—no, his attention is locked on a different word entirely.

“Asshole?” he echoes, voice rising with indignation, practically spitting the word back. Clenching his fists, he steps forward with a scowl twisting upon you face. “You calling me an asshole?”

“Well, yeah,” your stranger remarks casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He shrugs again, utterly unfazed by the tension mounting between them. “When the shoe fits…I mean, you’re acting like one, aren’t you?”

Pure rage flashes across the drummer’s face, and you can visibly see his fists trembling slightly.

Uhh… on second thought, is this guy even helping?

Now you’re not so sure if your so-called rescuer is making things better or worse, because clearly, the drummer is on the verge of snapping.

“You better watch your mouth man,” the drummer snarls, fury simmering beneath the surface.

But the stranger’s grin only widens, and he exudes a confidence that makes it clear he’s not worried in the slightest.

“Heh. That’s a warning I get a lot,” he muses, tilting his head slightly. “But y’know what? I don’t usually listen.”

It's a wonder the drumsticks the drummer is fisting haven't cracked under pressure, given how tightly he clenches them—his knuckles turn white.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” he growls through gritted teeth.

A low hum rumbles against your strangers’ lips as he ponders the question thoughtfully.

“I mean, I’ve been told I’m pretty hilarious,” he scratches the back of his head, like he’s seriously considering the statement, then, glancing at you, his eyes gleam with amusement as his sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose slightly.

“Whatcha think babe? Am I funny?”

The question—and that pet name—catches you completely off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless.

But the drummer isn’t interested in the little game your stranger seems to be playing. His jaw clenches—teeth grinding audibly as his face hardens into something feral.

“I’m about two seconds away from wiping that stupid grin off your face,” he spits, taking another aggressive step forward.

Fucking hell, is a fight really about to break out at your work?

Your pulse quickens, and for a split second, you think he might actually swing at him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the stranger says, still grinning like none of this phases him.

He releases his hold on your waist and steps forward with a smooth, almost lazy movement, placing himself between you and the drummer. His hands slip casually into his pockets, posture relaxed, but the air around him shifts.

“Let’s pump the brakes, big guy,” he tilts his head slightly, a dangerous edge creeping into his tone. “You’re welcome to try. But I’ll tell ya right now—” his teasing lilt diminishes, replaced by something colder, more commanding, “you’re not gonna like how it ends.”

His words—a warning and a challenge wrapped in one—hang heavy, and for a moment it feels like the entire store is holding its breath, waiting to see what happens next. Glancing around, you notice a few customers watching the scene unfold.

Fucking hell—this has gone from bad to worse.

And yet…the drummer doesn’t swing. He doesn’t move—doesn’t even flinch.

He’s seething—rage evident in the set of his jaw, the clenched fists at his sides—but something about the stranger’s calm, unwavering demeanor is throwing him off balance. It’s almost impressive, really.

No, scratch that—it is impressive.

You misjudged this guy. He might have walked in here like a cocky troublemaker, throwing out cheesy one-liners and pushing your buttons, but now? Now, he’s cool under pressure, defusing a situation that could’ve easily escalated into violence.

Body language often says more than words ever could, and his is completely in control—relaxed, hands in his pockets, not a single muscle tensed for a fight, yet there’s a sharpness beneath the surface—an unspoken control that demands attention.

It’s brilliant in a way. He’s defusing the threat without lifting a finger—a textbook example of how to manage tension without aggression. This guy is winning a psychological game the drummer doesn’t even realize he’s playing.

Their silent standoff stretches, until finally, the stranger breaks the silence with his smooth and almost disarmingly casual voice.

“Look, man,” he shrugs one shoulder with a nonchalance that seems almost practiced. “This is me giving you a chance to walk away with your dignity intact.” Tilting his head slightly, he gestures toward you with a subtle nod. “She asked you politely to stop. This is a store, not your personal garage. So maybe it’s time you pack it up and go before you make things worse.”

There’s a moment—a pause that feels like it stretches just a beat too long—where you can practically see the drummer’s gears turning in his head, weighing his options, trying to hold onto whatever’s left of his bravado.

Then, finally, he mutters through gritted teeth,

“Whatever.”

The word is spat out, dripping with frustration and barely-contained rage, and with a sharp movement, he tosses the drumsticks onto the kit—the wooden sticks clattering against the drums in a final act of defiance.

“You’re not worth it, and this place sucks anyway,” he mutters, full of aggravation, but his heart no longer in it—it’s clear his fight has deflated.

Turning sharply on his heel, he shoves past both you and the stranger with a forceful shoulder, storming toward the exit, and once the door slams shut behind him, the sound reverberates through the store with an unmistakable finality.

Just like that, the tension breaks. It’s like the whole store exhales at once—the weight lifting from the air as the distant murmur of customers resumes.

Before you can fully process what just happened, the stranger beside you turns his attention back to you.

“Well, that was fun,” he remarks, “Could’ve gone worse though. I mean, I didn’t even get to throw a punch. Talk about anti-climactic, huh?”

You barely manage to take a breath as he closes the space between you just a little more, his movements slow and intentional, and your heart flutters the moment his sunglasses slip down slightly, just enough for you to get a direct glimpse of his eyes. They lock onto yours—those bright, vivid blues—and for a second, everything else around you fades into the background.

“Seriously though,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “You okay?”

There’s something undeniably genuine in his tone, something that cuts through the playful exterior and lands right in your chest. You weren’t expecting that—this tenderness from someone who moments ago had brushed off a near-fight like it was nothing.

His eyes—soft but still burning with intensity—hold yours captive, and for a second, you forget how to speak.

“Uh… yeah,” you manage, “I think so.”

“Good,” he says with a nod, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Because I think you owe me a ‘thank you’ for that stellar rescue.”

You blink out of incredulity.

Thank you?

So much for tender—who does this guy think he is? You nearly scoff aloud. He wants a 'thank you' for a rescue that, truthfully, you weren’t even sure you needed?

Unsure whether you’re amused or annoyed by his arrogance, you open your mouth to respond—but before you can say anything, he cuts you off with a wink.

“Kidding,” he says with a chuckle, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Always happy to help.” His hands settle into his pockets and he pauses, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly. “Especially when it means I get to rescue a pretty girl like you.”

The compliment lands harder than you’d care to admit as you feel the warmth creeping up your neck and into your cheeks—betraying the fact that—against your better judgment—you’re not entirely immune to his charm.

A flicker of something stirs in your chest…

—nope. Let’s not go there.

Pushing it down before it can grow into something more, you refuse to let that feeling root itself.

You’re not looking for attention, especially not from a guy like this—a guy who flashes a cocky grin like he knows it works. The kind of guy who acts like the world bends to his whims.

Romance? No thanks. You’ve got bigger things to focus on. He’s exactly the kind of distraction you don’t need.

“Rescue might be a strong word,” you mutter, finally finding your voice again as you cross your arms over your chest. “I had it under control… mostly.”

“Oh, you did? My bad,” leaning in slightly, his voice lowers as if sharing a secret. “But trust me, that guy? He was one wrong word away from turning this into a full-on disaster. You’re lucky I stepped in when I did.”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at his comment, refusing to let him rattle you this time, and there’s a flicker of amusement creeping into your voice as you challenge him.

“Lucky, huh? So, what now? You expecting a medal or something?”

His grin widens—a grin that’s undeniably magnetic, but you resist being pulled into its orbit.

“Naaaah, I’m not that high maintenance,” straightening himself, he regards you with a slight tilt of the head. “But… I’ll take a coffee if you’re offering.”

You blink, momentarily thrown off by his response.

Did he just… ask you out?

“Wait, what?” you stammer, not quite sure you heard him right.

“A coffee,” he repeats smoothly. “Y’know, like a reward for my heroic efforts.” He pauses, just long enough to make it clear he’s toying with you. “Or is that too forward? I can settle for your number instead.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes your lips—a sharp exhale that’s part disbelief, part amusement. This guy is unbelievable.

Nope. You’re not going to let him get to you that easily.

“I don’t even know your name,” you shoot back, lifting your chin just a little higher, “and you’re already angling for a reward?”

“Ouch, y/n,” he replies, placing a hand dramatically over his chest as if you’ve wounded him deeply—his grin, however, never falters. “That stings.”

You stare at him, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“How do you…?”

“How do I know your name?” he finishes for you, clearly enjoying this a little too much. He tilts his head. “Well, for starters, your nametag.”

Oh.

You glance down quickly and—of course—there it is, printed neatly on the tag pinned to your shirt, and now you are mentally kicking yourself for not realizing sooner.

“Right… of course,” you shake your head in mild embarrassment. It’s infuriating how easily he’s messing with you.

An amused chuckle dances on his lips and he leans back ever so slightly—hands in his pockets like he has all the time in the world.

“But that’s not the only reason I know you,” he adds, voice taking on a more playful tone, almost like he’s daring you to figure it out. “You really don’t recognize me, do you?”

You blink, trying to piece together where you might’ve seen him before. There’s something vaguely familiar about his voice…have you heard it before? Do you know him?

“I don’t…” you start, trailing off, searching for any spark of recognition, but you come up blank. “Uhh… should I?”

Flashing you a toothy smile, he's clearly delighted by your confusion.

“Ouch again. Double whammy,” with a dramatic sigh, he shakes his head in mock disappointment as his crooked grin curves up. “I guess I’m not as memorable as I thought.”

Your eyebrow quirks up at his theatrics, and despite yourself, the corner of your lips do too. Ugh. You want to be irritated with him but somehow, he makes it incredibly hard to be.

“Right… well,” tilting your head, your voice dips with playful sarcasm, “maybe if you told me your name, it might jog my memory?”

With a soft chuckle, he slides his sunglasses off and rests them on top of his head, and just like that, you’re greeted with the full, unobstructed view of his eyes—striking, electric blue, so vivid they almost don’t seem real, and they lock onto yours with an intensity that sends a flutter through your chest.

“Satoru,” he says smoothly, as if his name alone should be enough to make everything click. “Gojo Satoru.”

The name floats in your mind, like it’s circling around something, but still, nothing concrete surfaces. He seems so confident—so sure that you should know who he is—and it only adds to your frustration.

Do you know him?

Generally, you keep to yourself, both at work and on campus—with your moms condition you don’t really have time for the exciting college life. Tilting your head, your eyes narrow as you study his face—surely, you would have remembered someone like him... wouldn’t you?

“Gojo Satoru…” you test the name on your tongue as if saying it aloud might unlock some hidden memory. But still—nothing. “Sorry, not ringing any bells.”

Satoru laughs again, rich and unbothered, like this is the highlight of his day.

“Wow, I’m really striking out today,” he shakes his head in mock dismay. “I guess I’ll have to try harder next time.”

Before you can muster a response, he reaches out casually, plucking a pair of drumsticks from an endcap display nearby, twirling them between his fingers like it’s second nature. He examines them for a moment, then looks back at you with a raised brow.

“So, since we’re here and I’m feeling generous… how about you check me out?”

You glance down at the drumsticks in his hand, then back up at him—his expression is unreadable, that signature smirk lingering as if he’s waiting for you to catch up.

“...you mean ring up the drumsticks, right?” you clarify, though your voice is uncertain.

“Sure, let’s go with that,” he murmurs, and then, with a sly wink, he adds, “But I don’t mind if you do both.”

For a beat, your breath hitches, and you fight back the urge to roll your eyes.

Okay—this is guy is definitely a flirt. You’re not falling for his trap.

“Wow… you’re really not subtle, are you?” reaching out, you snatch the drumsticks from his hand. “How many women actually fall for that?” you turn on your heel towards the counter, and he follows in step.

“Hmm…I’m not exactly keeping score,” he admits. “But let’s just say I don’t hear too many complaints.”

Glancing back at him, you arch an eyebrow as you approach the register—fingers automatically moving to unlock your cash drawer, and he leans casually against the counter beside you, propping his elbow on it—like he owns the space.

“Will say though,” he adds, voice dipping lower, “I don’t usually have to try this hard. You’re pretty special.”

You scoff, your fingers hesitating slightly over the keys, though you refuse to let him see how his words make a tiny flutter bloom in your chest.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you mutter under your breath, trying—and failing—to focus solely on the transaction.

Satoru hums, watching you with that same playful gleam in his eyes.

“Nah,” his tone drops to something almost conspiratorial, “you’re definitely one of a kind.”

Yup. He’s a smooth talker—and without a doubt, bad news.

Pressing your lips together, you force your gaze to remain on the screen in front of you. He’s playing a game, and you’re determined not to lose.

As you scan the barcode on the drumsticks, he casually pulls out his wallet to pay, and that’s when something catches your eye—a student ID peeking out from the clear pocket inside his wallet.

Narrowing your eyes slightly, your fingers hover mid-air as you get a better look. The ID is familiar—yet you can't make out the school’s name plastered right across it, but the logo and the colors are unmistakable.

Wait a second…

“We go to the same school?”

Satoru looks up, his grin stretching even wider and the glimmer in his eyes practically daring you to catch up—he’s been waiting for this moment.

“Took ya long enough,” he teases, playful but with a hint of smugness. “Yeah, we do.”

You blink, the pieces clicking together a little too late.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you demand, unable to stop the half-accusatory, half-embarrassed tone that underlines your voice. A groan slips past your lips and you shake your head in frustration. “I swear…you’ve been messing with me this whole time.”

With an amused chuckles, Satoru lifts his shoulders in a casual shrug.

“Hey, it’s more fun this way,” he leans in a little closer, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. “Besides,” he pauses, tilting his head just slightly while his lips curve into a sly grin. “I like watching you piece things together. You’ve got this cute little furrow in your brow when you’re thinking hard.”

The intensity in his eyes makes your breath hitch, and no matter how hard you resist, there’s that undeniable flutter in your chest, warm and unwanted.

“How come I’ve never seen you around?” you ask, trying to steer the conversation back onto safer ground.

“Oof. You’re killing me, y/n. I pass by you every day, actually.”

You frown, narrowing your eyes.

“Every day? Where?”

“The water fountain,” he says smoothly, tapping his fingers on the counter rhythmically, just a light touch. “Y’know, where you sit and study. Every afternoon, without fail. I walk by almost every day.”

Ah. That’s why his voice must’ve sounded familiar. You probably heard him—another voice blending into the background while you were studying.

“Really? Guess I never noticed you.”

Resting his chin in his hand, a dramatic huff falls from Satoru's lips as they form into a pout.

“Jeez…you don’t quit. I can’t believe I’m that forgettable.”

You can’t resist the soft laugh that escapes you, despite yourself—it’s hard not to find his antics at least a little amusing, and though you’d never admit it, the way he’s so desperate for your attention is almost… cute.

“Maybe you just blend into the background too much,” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow while extending your hand, silently gesturing for his payment.

“Ouch...” he winces dramatically, pulling out his card before placing it in your hand. “Okay, that one stung a little.”

“Yeah, well… I’m sure your ego will recover,” you quip, glancing up briefly before focusing back on the transaction. But there’s a brief pause as you swipe his card—a silence that suddenly feels charged with something else.

You can feel his gaze lingering on you, heavy and expectant, and you try your hardest not to give in to the pull to look at him again—but the heat of his attention is unmistakable, almost like a gravitational force pulling you in, and you can feel your pulse quicken under his scrutiny.

“I gotta say, you’ve got a sharp tongue—I like it,” he murmurs.

Your fingers freeze for just a second, your breath hitching slightly as his tone shifts, and you can’t resist—your eyes flick up and he holds your gaze captive yet again.

“But it’s a bad habit, y’know,” he continues, his voice dropping, growing more intent as his eyes flicker over your features. “Not being aware of your surroundings like that...” leaning in just a fraction, his words become a quiet murmur between the two of you. “What if some creep tried to take advantage of you?”

The gentleness in his demeanor… is he genuinely concerned? It’s hard to tell—harder than you’d like to admit—and it’s easier to convince yourself he isn’t—that this is all part of his charming routine, because that makes it easier to ignore the subtle pull he has on you.

“Well,” you keep your voice steady, despite the flutter in your chest, “lucky for me, no one’s tried. Unless…” tilting your head slightly, a teasing smirk tugs at your lips, “you’re secretly admitting to being a creep.”

Satoru’s laugh spills out, rich and warm, breaking the moment just enough for you to catch your breath.

“Nah, I’m not creep,” his voice lightens as he straightens up just a little. “Just a concerned citizen looking out for someone who’s too absorbed in her textbooks to notice the world around her.”

You huff, though the corners of your mouth twitch upward against your will.

“I can handle myself, thank you very much,” you quip back, determined to maintain control over the situation. In a quick, defiant motion, you grab the receipt and shove it into his hand, a small victorious gesture.

“Right, right. You definitely proved that today when I swooped in for the rescue,” he teases, and his hand brushes yours ever so briefly as he takes the receipt—a touch so light is sends a tiny spark up your arm. “But hey, what if you don’t show up at the fountain one day? I’m gonna have to file a missing person’s report.”

You can’t help but laugh at his ridiculousness, the sound escaping before you can stop it.

“A missing person’s report? Seriously?” you roll your eyes.

“Yup,” he grins, emphasizing the ‘p’. “You’re there so often it’s practically routine. Same spot. Same time. Every day. It’s kinda predictable, y/n. If I don’t see you there one day, I’ll just assume some creep finally got to you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, though you can’t help the faint heat rising in your cheeks.

“Predictable?” you retort, trying to sound indignant. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, you are,” he counters, clearly reveling in your reaction as he slips the receipt in his pocket. “But hey, that’s not a bad thing. It makes you easier to find if you ever disappear.”

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes, a snappy reply ready on your tongue, but he’s already raising his hands with a dramatic flair, like he’s about to paint the scene in vivid detail.

“I can see it now: ‘Missing: Cute girl who spends way too much time by the water fountain. Last seen buried in a psychology textbook. Answers to y/n.’”

It’s impossible not to laugh again, the sound bubbling up as you watch him weave his ridiculous scenario with such confidence and flair. His eyes flick to yours, and a satisfied grin tugs at the corner of his mouth—clearly pleased with the effect he’s having on you.

“Wow,” you manage between chuckles. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“Mhm,” he hums in agreement, leaning slightly closer. “Gotta be prepared. I don’t want anything happening to my favorite water fountain girl.”

Your heart flips—and for a second, it feels like he’s given you some kind of title you didn’t realize you wanted. You try to brush it off, to ignore the warmth spreading across your cheeks, but it’s not so easy with the way he’s looking at you.

“Riiiight… well, lucky for you,” you manage, attempting to sound nonchalant, “I’m not planning on disappearing anytime soon.”

“Good,” he murmurs, low and smooth. “Because I’d miss seeing you.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep the upper hand, though the small smile that tugs at your lips betrays you.

“Uh-huh. Sure you would.”

There’s a brief moment, just the two of you—his gaze still locked onto yours, when—

“Ahem.”

You jump slightly at the sound, turning to see Utahime standing beside you, arms crossed, a knowing smile pulling at the corner of her lips. She gives you a look—a very knowing look—that sends heat rushing to your cheeks all over again.

“I’m taking my break,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes dancing with mischief as they flick between you and Satoru. “So… don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”

Suddenly hyper-aware of the tension in the air, you swallow hard and offer her a tight smile.

“No promises,” Satoru quips, that cocky grin returning to his face as he leans against the counter slightly—clearly unfazed by the interruption.

After Utahime saunters off, he continues smoothly, picking up right where he left off.

“So...” he starts again, “What do you say? How about you give me your number? Just in case I need it, y’know, for emergencies.”

He’s relentless, isn’t he?

Heat creeps up your neck as you blink from his boldness—with a soft, incredulous laugh, you desperately try to find your footing again.

“You really don’t give up, do you?”

That familiar and confident gleam glistens in his eyes as his grin widens.

“Not when it comes to someone as interesting as you.”

There’s a flicker of something in your chest—a flutter that you’re quick to squash.

“Mmm… sorry,” you murmur, tone sweet but firm. “But I don’t think you’re ready for that kind of disappointment. I’m really not interested in players.”

For the briefest moment, his grin falters, and something unreadable flashes behind his eyes—a momentary crack in his facade. It’s so quick, so subtle, that you almost miss it. But there’s just enough time to wonder if maybe you hit a nerve.

Still, Satoru recovers in an instant, his playful charm sliding back into place like nothing happened.

“That’s cold, y/n,” his voice light and teasing, though there’s a trace of something deeper, almost wounded, lurking beneath. “You really think I’m that kind of guy?”

Tilting your head slightly, you cross your arms over your chest as you study him—gaze sharp but not unkind.

“Yeah, well, I’ve met enough guys like you to know how this works.”

With a soft chuckle, and a smooth, almost lazy motion, he lowers his sunglasses from where they’re perched atop his head—resting them back on the bridge of his nose as the dark lenses now obscure his eyes from you.

He’s hiding behind them—letting them do the work of shielding his real thoughts. Huh. Typical behavior for someone who enjoys the chase but avoids real vulnerability.

“You’re quick to judge. I’m just a guy who knows what he wants. And right now? I just want your number.”

Classic deflection—you think. He’s not even denying it. Still... something about the way he says it makes that familiar flutter stir in your chest, and you hate it.

“Yeah... that’s not happening,” crossing your arms more tightly, you try to maintain control of the situation.

His hands come up in mock surrender as a small, amused sigh slips from his lips.

“Bummer,” he concedes, though there’s no real disappointment in his tone, only amusement. “But hey,” he picks up the drumsticks from the counter, “offer’s on the table if you ever change your mind.”

“Right... I’ll keep that in mind,” you dryly reply, knowing full well that you won’t.

“Please do,” he shoots back with that infuriatingly confident grin. “Besides, I’ll be seeing you around, water fountain girl.”

The familiar nickname brings an unwanted warmth that you attempt to shake off.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Gojo.”

But Satoru just steps back toward the door, exuding that same unshakeable confidence. “Oh, I’m not worried,” he says with a cocky smirk. “You’re predictable, remember? I know exactly where to find you.”

You open your mouth, ready to fire back with something witty, but before you can, he’s already halfway out the door, twirling the drumsticks between his fingers with effortless ease.

“See ya around, y/n,” he calls over his shoulder, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft jingle before you even have a chance to respond.

And just like that, the store feels quiet again, as if the air shifted back to normal now that he’s gone. You stand there for a moment, blinking at the closed door. You should feel relieved that he’s gone, that the exchange is over, but instead, you’re left with this strange, restless feeling you can’t quite shake.

What the hell just happened?

Shaking your head, you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. There’s a part of you that’s frustrated—frustrated at how easily he slipped under your skin, how effortlessly he managed to unsettle you with nothing but a grin and a few flirtatious remarks.

You hate that you’re even thinking about it. About him. He’s just another guy with too much confidence for his own good.

But something about the brief crack in his facade sticks with you. That fleeting moment where his grin faltered, and something else—something almost vulnerable—flickered behind those cocky blue eyes.

What was that?

With another shake of your head, you push the thought aside. He’s a flirt. A player. The kind of guy who never takes anything seriously.

That’s all there is to it.

You don’t have time to psychoanalyze every flippant guy who crosses your path, even if there’s a part of you that’s still curious.

Just as you’re about to shake off the thoughts entirely, your phone buzzes in your pocket, snapping you out of your daze. You pull it out, glancing down at the screen.

Kyoko: Hey sweetie, just wanted to let you know your mom's been having a rough day today. She’s more confused than usual, keeps asking for you. Maybe you could visit soon?”

Reality crashes back in—grounding you in the weight of your responsibilities.

With a sigh, you run a hand through your hair, already mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead.

You: Thanks for the update, Aunt Kyoko. My shift is almost over, I’ll be home soon.

Focus. There’s no room for distractions—not right now.

Not with Satoru Gojo. Not with anyone.

a/n. thanks for reading the debut of bomh (or i guess the re-debut since this is a rewrite? hehe). i'm excited to explore a lot of topics in this fic, and rewriting it definitely helped rekindle my passion for this story. so, i'm looking forward with whats to come! hope ya'll enjoyed 💕 → you are currently all caught up ♪

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