#as in a string instrument store

[do-u-really-wanna-know]

[tisiphoness]

unexpectedly am in possession of a violin for the next month :)

[believing-is-seeing]

Day Murray Music Education House

Murray, Utah, USA

March 2023

[virtualdispensary]

Brass N` Strings Catalog

Brass N` String snare catalog is now available within the virtual world of Second Life.

Facebook Flickr Snare Drum and Accessories A visual listing of Brass N` Strings (-2022) virtual content collection. This catalog features the first snare drum release. In addition to the drum, accessories for the snare are also available. Brass N` String products can be found on SecondLife marketplace. Snare Drum on Stand An original mesh snare drum on a stand This product is 2 land…

[rizsu]

the aftermath of being turned into an ex jujutsu kaisen — gojo satoru.

gojo's a man of commitment. if rounding up a ‘band’ to serenade you into taking him back is what'll do the trick, then he'll organize it.

+ extra. this is meant to be unserious dont attack me for mischaracterization n shi 😞

“we're done.”

“we are not!”

in the end, he got kicked out. due to the shame he felt by being kicked out of a house he once lived in, satoru actually leaves. don't party too soon though, he's going to come back within five hours.

the plan he had in mind was simple: go to the department store, buy some roses, a poster, led lights, a table, some chocolates, and hire a band. for this the budget will be endless.

you thought you got rid of satoru but little did you know that he still has his share of keys. with that trick up his sleeve, he unlocks the gate, sneaking in everyone and the props.

satoru wasn't able to hire a band, but he was able to get a substitute. you see, todo, inumaki, and yuuji have hidden talents. they can all play instruments and one can sing! he always knew there was a reason why he's proud of his students.

quietly, the four men set the stage that's actually your front yard. in the center holds the white table with a black satin cloth delicately placed on it. the three bouquets of roses sit beautifully on the table. some petals were picked out and carefully spotted as well. on the table's center held the chocolate and wine — your favourite wine, to be exact. the finishing touch is the led lights. they're circling the ground, illuminating it with a soft yellow glow.

at the right and left sides of the table are inumaki and yuuji. inumaki's holding a wooden guitar while yuuji holds the hand drum. todo's position is in front of the table but a little off-center. he's holding the microphone, ready to pour his heart out on the song.

the star, satoru, is the one in the center. one hand hides behind his back. it's holding another rose bouquet with hundred-dollar bills wrapped with the roses. his free hand holds his phone. as soon as the clock strikes 7:00PM, he's going to call you. everything should play out perfectly.

anxiously watching his wristwatch switch from 6:59 to 7:00, he immediately calls you. one, two, three, six rings later you answered.

“you. i forgot to block you.”

“excuse me?” satoru scoffs, “whatever, i'm not calling for that.”

“chop chop then. i don't have all night.”

“can you come outside?”

“no. i will be calling the police.”

“OH C'MON,” he whines, getting desperate. “please? after this i'll leave you alone. promise.”

“...”

yuuji painfully watches. he feels incredibly sorry for his teacher. he doesn't deserve this!

“i don't think this is going good,” yuuji whispers to the boys, moving his head side-to-side.

todo raises his fist, gesturing to the boys to have some faith. “let's put our hopes high.”

they watch satoru closely. his hand that held the phone dramatically dropped to his side. slowly, he turns his head to face the boys behind him. his face breaks their hearts. he's pouting with eyes nearing tears — a pain only males like them can understand!

before satoru can say something, the front door clicks open. as it swings open aggressively, you made yourself tonight's main star unwillingly. you were not dressed for whatever this occasion is. your front yard has been ruined, your ex is there, three of his students you've met a few times, and while they're in suits, you're in a fancy robe with fluffy indoor slippers.

your eyebrows crease together, just when did they do all of this?! maybe it's time to install cameras.

“satoru, what the fuck did you do to my—”

“shh, tonight it's just you and him,” todo cuts you off, switching the mic on and beginning his performance. inumaki tunes the guitar and starts stringing random strings in hopes that they sound good. yuuji follows by tapping a simple “dun-da-da-dun-dun” beat on the drums.

your mouth's now opened. baffled by the sight, you stood there motionless.

“i have died every day waiting for you~”

as todo sings, satoru walks up to you, cheekily smiling at your shocked expression.

you back away from him, eyebrows still furrowed at whatever's going on.

“darling, don't be afraid~”

at this lyric, satoru takes the opportunity to shove his phone back into his pocket and grab your wrist. although you attempted to wriggle free, you are no match for his strength. gently, he pulls you into the yard.

both your eyes lock on each other. you search his eyes for emotions, he searches yours for any signs of longing. it's not there, he thinks. he feels a pinch in his heart, but it won't stop him. sending you a wink, he pulls you closer to the table.

“i have loved you for a thousand years (ooh)~”

“seriously, what's all this bullshit?!” you whisper-yelled at him, using your other hand to point at the table.

satoru simply shrugs.

“i'll love you for a thou-sand more (ooh, yeah)~”

todo ends his singing, clapping along with the other two to end the performance. it was the most touching thing he's ever done besides gifting yuuji and his idol a trio matching keychains set.

satoru coughs three times in attempts to hide his laugh. this has probably been the most unserious yet serious he's ever been, but his perfomance doesn't end there. he still has something else to whip out.

“baby—”

“that's not my name,” you cut him off.

“anyway. as i was saying,” he stops, revealing the rose bouquet with multiple hundred-dollar bills. “all of these are yours.”

your eyes bulge, but you quickly regain yourself.

“i'm not going to be won over with some roses and money.”

“there's wine and chocolates too,” yuuji says, immediately shutting up after you shot him a look.

inumaki stands awkwardly. he feels immense second-hand embarrassment. to counter such feelings, he starts playing the guitar again.

satoru cups the side of your face with his hand. his thumb caresses your cheek as he locks his eyes on yours again.

“i was serious about not breaking up, y'know,” he softly speaks, “i know i'm pushing it and all that stuff but i don't think i can leave you.”

it's once again your turn to be speechless. at this point, you're sure that there's no way all of this is happening in one night.

since you won't take hold of the bouquet, satoru places it in your hand. to solidify it even more, he lifts your other hand to place a kiss on it.

“what level of romance is this?” again, yuuji speaks. this time, it's satoru who gestures him to quiet down.

inumaki's still playing the out-of-tune guitar, enjoying the way the wind gently blows. it's truly a beautiful night. under the full moon's light, you and satoru glow together.

todo gears up for another round of singing. he immediately does a dragged-out “ooh~” adlib. this, however, wasn't going to last as long as his previous one did.

“NO — no more, please. you have a wonderful voice but i've heard enough. please.” you turned around to todo, begging him to mute the mic and possibly himself.

“and you,” you turn back to face satoru, “clean this up, get the boys home safely, and then come back.”

after that, you walked back to inside your house with the bouquet, making it satoru's turn to be left speechless. he still didn't win you over with some roses and money (wine and chocolates too) but his stupid commitment to keeping the relationship is what did.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Bard-aby <3 except he's only loosely a bard bc i don't subscribe to absolutes <3

rambles:

BARNABY WITH PANTS??? BLASPHEMY!!! however this is a (dnd-inspired) fantasy au so. pants! loose pants tucked into modified boots because no one can tell me No!

based off of Clown's pokemon au human Barn, it seems like he might be a bit of a jewelry guy! he was wearing rings! and had an earring! also i think Barn just looks great w/ some extra shinies, yk yk

since ties aren't really a Thing in fantasy settings, i combined the iconic pattern w/ his vest for a two-in-one. then suspenders bc they fuck severely! his belt buckle is a bone both as a nod to the pattern on his tie / house decoration, and to go along with how Wally has an apple buckle! besties stay twinning!

you can't see it but on his other side he has his pack & his smoking pipe holster, which attaches to his belt! it's very high quality leather that he spent so much money on. his pipe is important to him - he carved it himself out of wood from an important tree from his childhood, so he wants it to be properly stored & protected! he has two kinds of tobacco for it - normal, and magic tobacco that essentially allows him to cast minor spells w/ the smoke

the feathers on his hat are from Ms. Beagle! in my mind he left the farm to go adventuring on a bit of a bad note, but his mama made sure to give him a couple feathers to take with so that she'd always be close <3

he keeps his claws blunt so that he doesn't accidentally scratch people/things, and so that he can play stringed instruments without cutting the strings. while i imagine for this au he plays a wide range, he prefers Loud Handheld Instruments that allow him to sing along. so in mind he has an Accordion here! loud! jaunty! but i imagine he also keeps a recorder in his pack for when Frank needs annoying. (he did have a lute, but he broke it over someone's head in the act of defending Wally's honor)

im still trying to pin down the right balance of colors for his outfit, but! for a little au tidbit - all of his spots are the same two blues as his ears. in this im imagining that he, at a young age, learned a very basic cosmetic spell that allowed him to change his spots color to mimic Ms. Beagle's! he wanted to look like his mama! but by the time he's in his late 20s he no longer changes his spots

ohhhh i forgot to add his pockets. Oh Well

[humansofnewyork]

(10/54) “Mitra loved anything beautiful. She kept countless notebooks. And on every page she’d paste something beautiful: a flower, a feather, a line from a poem. One time we went to a large antique shop, and the owner challenged us to choose the most expensive items in the shop. Mitra looked around the store and chose two that nobody else had noticed. The owner was shocked. He announced that those were the only two that were not for sale. She had a genius for beauty. It was one of her greatest gifts. But her greatest gift by far, was her memory. Mitra could memorize an entire poem after hearing it a single time. Her favorite was Hafez: The Prince of Romance. She’d memorized two hundred of his ghazals. And whenever she found a verse that she loved, she’d bring it to me to read. We’d heard our voices many times before in arguments. But it was different when we read poetry. There was a softness, a delicacy. When you’re reading a poem, you must find the 𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨. Melody. The instrument is your throat. And the words are the notes. Some you strike suddenly, with a bang. Others you unroll gently, like a bow being slowly pulled across the string of a violin. Every word has life. Every word has its own soul. The word roar has a soul. 𝘒𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘩! And so does the word kiss. 𝘉𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘩. We were married in the traditional way. It was a small ceremony at the home of Mitra’s father. On the morning of our wedding Mitra and I visited a famous photographer in Tehran. We took a series of photographs standing side-by-side. She was so conscious of her crippled hand, she found a way to hide it in every photo. But she’d never looked so beautiful. When the session was finished, I suggested one final photograph. I could tell the photographer was annoyed, but he agreed. And it’s the photograph that still hangs in our house today. Mitra is sitting on a chair. And I’m down on one knee, looking up at her, holding her hand.”

 میترا هر چیز زیبایی را دوست داشت. در دفترچه‌های پُرشُمارش و بر هر برگی از آنها چیزی زیبا می‌چسباند: گُلی، پَری، بیت شعری. روزی میترا و من به عتیقه‌فروشی بزرگی رفتیم - فروشنده ما را به چالش کشید که گران‌ترین‌هایش را شناسایی کنیم. میترا نگاهی به پیرامون انداخت و به دو قطعه اشاره کرد. صاحب فروشگاه شگفت‌زده گفت که هیچ‌کس تا کنون به آنها توجه نکرده بود. او گفت که این دو تنها چیزهایی هستند که فروشی نیستند. میترا نبوغ ویژه‌ای در زیباشناسی داشت. یکی از بهترین توانایی‌های او بود. ولی برجسته‌ترین توانایی او حافظه‌اش بود. میترا پس از یک بار شنیدن شعر، ‌بسیاری از آنرا به یاد می‌سپرد. عاشق شعر بود. تنها زمینه‌ای که بر آن توافق داشتیم. شاعر مورد علاقه‌‌اش حافظ بود: شاهزاده‌ی عاشقانه‌ها. میترا بیش از دویست غزل او را از بر داشت. برخی را که دلپسندش بود به من می‌داد تا بخوانم. باور داشت که من آهنگ درست شعر را پیدا می‌کنم. صدای همدیگر را در بگومگوهامان بسیار می‌شنیدیم. ولی هنگام شعر ‌خواندن چنان نبود. حالتی از دلپذیری و نرمش. در شعر، حنجره ساز شماست. و واژه‌ها نُت‌هایتان. برخی را ناگهان می‌نوازی - با آوایی بلند. برخی دیگر را به آرامی، مانند کشیدن آرشه بر زه. هر واژه‌ ویژگی خود را دارد. هر واژه‌ را جانی دیگر است. واژه‌ی خروشیدن جانی خروشان دارد! همانگونه که واژه‌ی بوسیدن و بوسه، دلآویزی و آرامشش را! پیوند ما ازدواجی سنتی بود. جشن کوچکی در خانه‌ی پدر میترا. بامداد روز ازدواجمان، به آتلیه‌ی عکاسی پرآوازه‌ای در تهران رفتیم. میترا را هیچگاه به آن زیبایی ندیده بودم. چندین عکس ایستاده در کنار هم گرفتیم. در هر عکسی حالتی را می‌یافت تا دست چپش را پنهان کند. هنگامی که کارمان تمام شد، پیشنهاد عکسی دیگر دادم. عکاس آزرده می‌نمود اما عکس را گرفت. و آن همین است که تا امروز بر دیوار آویزان است. میترا روی صندلی نشسته و من یک زانو بر زمین نهاده، محو تماشای او، دستش را در دست گرفته‌ام

[facefullofsadness]

Not to beg but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEEAAAASSSEEEE can you do a part 2 to the psychopathic but it's okay band au thing and what the dynamic is like afterwards and maybe the rest of the girls catching on to something going between them

oooo okay, I never thought about it but NOW YOU GOT ME THINKING

content - aftermath of psychopathic but it's okay

wc - 2936

a/n - the "not to beg but PLEASE" was rlly funny btw. kinda in love with this universe now after writing this

the days after you and yunjin hooked up were... hm.

things were god fucking awkward to say the least. waking up alone after passing out on the practice room couch to seeing all your bandmates the following day, including jen (who actually showed up on time). the tension in that room was so palpable, it almost felt like you could reach out and touch it, feel it in your hands. the other girls shifted uneasily with you two in their proximity, messing with strings or keys on their instruments.

that was until chaewon clapped her hands and got everyone's attention, "okay guys, from the top."

practice went on as usual, yunjin surprisingly being in sync with the band (much to everyone's relief). the day continued with not a word being spoken by either of you two, only responding when being spoken to, not even throwing each other a glance. and when it ended, jen was the first to leave, packing up her shit and dipping so quickly. you scrambled to follow suit, not to go after her, but to not be interrogated by the older members.

unfortunately for you, sakura was already leaning against the door before you could even reach for it. chaewon had shooed away kazuha and eunchae so the two older girls could talk to you privately first, telling zuha to occupy the youngest (and maybe probe at yunjin). you sigh at kura's expectant expression, arms crossed and foot tapping on the floor, her eyebrows raising as if expecting you to say something. you turn to look at chaewon, her hands on her hips, the same expression plastered on her face.

you slump onto the couch, the same one yunjin had fucked you on the day before, burying your face in your hands and grumbling.

"whaaatttt?" you groan out the question into the air.

"you wanna tell me what happened after we left yesterday?" chaewon opens up first, plopping herself down onto one of the office chairs in the room, pulling it up next to you.

you turn away from her and sigh, "nothing happened."

"really? nothing happened? that's it?" sakura scoffs and leans against chaewon's chair.

you roll your eyes and rest your chin on your fist, looking up at them, "yes kura, nothing happened. why, what do you guys think?"

they exchange a look of disbelief before chaewon chuckles, "really? you and yunjin left alone in a room together to argue and nothing happened? y/n, even eunchae knows something went down."

"why? why does it matter? it's not like anything's changed," you say.

"you guys aren't talking. like shit, you guys didn't even argue today. you know how weird it is that you guys didn't even look like you wanted to murder each other?" sakura pushes.

"you know what?" you get up, collecting your stuff and heading towards the door, grabbing the handle and pulling it open, "ask yunjin then, because I don't know what the fuck happened either."

you leave, slamming the door shut. the two girls sigh and look at each other.

"what do you think happened?" chaewon asks, looking up at the older.

"could honestly be anything, but I don't think it's too wild to think that maybe it was something that made it so that they might not hate each other as much anymore," sakura contemplates, "I don't know what that might be, but something definitely happened."

on the other side of town, yunjin sits at a convenience store, triangle kimbap in one hand, her face in the other. she groans when she hears a familiar voice calling out for her.

"fuck off zuha," she grunts, feeling the chair next to her become occupied, long black hair shifting into view.

"you know what I'm here for, just tell me and I'll go. eunchae's waiting nearby expecting ice cream so I expect you to make it quick," kazuha boldly states, arms crossed on the table, leaning in towards jennifer.

she lifts her head up and glares at the younger girl with a scowl, "and why the fuck would I ever tell you anything?"

the former smirks, "why? do you have something to hide?"

yunjin aggressively takes a bite out of her rice ball and replies, mouth stuffed, "it's not like you cared about anything else before, why're you here now?"

"because unlike your bitch ass, I actually care about y/n. if you did something to her, I'll never forgive you jennifer," kazuha states.

yunjin looks up at her with her jaw clenched, kazuha's eyes fiery and wild. it makes her scoff, "gee, if you wanted to fuck y/n that bad, you could've just said so."

kazuha grabs the taller girl's collar and balls the material in her hand, "if you hurt y/n yunjin, I'll end you. I don't care about your guys' petty and childish arguments but whatever happened yesterday made her look like a shell of her former self. you did something, and I need to know what."

jen gulped. she had never seen her bandmate so enraged before, her expression angry and serious. while on the inside yunjin was pretty shaken up, she kept the facade of looking relaxed on as she releases a shaky sigh and responds.

"that is none of your business kazuha. if you cared so much about her, ask y/n yourself."

it's not fair and jen knew it. she was the one that snapped back at you in the first place yesterday, resulting in the arguing, and was also the one to initiate the sex. but she didn't know what to say. to be frank, she was scared. she woke up before you did, panicked while looking around the abandoned practice room, laying on top of your sleeping body. the wave of guilt that washed over her when she processed everything that had happened, scrambling to get dressed and leave before you awoke.

she didn't know what to do. she was the one that started the mess, but she didn't know how to clean it up.

the fire continued to rage in kazuha's eyes, drilling holes through yunjin's head. she let out an angry huff before releasing the girl's collar and standing up straight.

"I don't give a fuck about you yunjin nor do I want to and I really don't care about getting to know you. but even after that, what I do know is that you're either stupid or a fucking coward."

with that, she turned and left the store (heading off to buy eunchae some ice cream no doubt!).

her words resonate in yunjin's head. coward... she's right... I'm a fucking coward, she thought.

it didn't get better with time. everyone just became more on edge and the tension in that practice room never diminished. after the older members discussed their conversation with you to kazuha and vice versa about the yunjin conversation, they were just left a little more lost. they didn't wanna recruit the sweet and innocent youngest and get her wrapped up in the situation, but she was already unfortunately caught in crossfire at this point. and so they did.

eunchae asking you to walk her home today because everybody else was too busy to accompany her, so you say yes because that's your baby! rushing you two out of the door after practice is over and telling her to just stay silent the entire trip to her place. it pained you to a degree to make the talkative younger girl stay silent, but for both you and her, it was better to keep it this way. though of course, your little baby was just too curious (and obedient to sakura, chaewon, and kazuha) to listen to your demand.

"I know it's not really my place to ask, but you and yunjin... the tension is messing us all up and it's not helping," the youngest speaks up.

you sigh and stop walking, breathing out into the cold air with your hands shoved in your pockets. she stops walking too, a couple steps away to give you your space.

you continue to look up into the night sky, "I know eunchae, I know."

the silence hangs with you looking up and her looking down, the cement less intimidating then your pondering posture.

"it's... complicated," you state in the easiest way you deem possible, "we don't like each other, at least that's what I thought. I suppose maybe something changed, but yunjin's too fucking shallow to admit anything."

eunchae's attention is immediately grabbed by your decision to open up. she looks up from the floor and at you, curious eyes in your peripheral coming from the girl.

"you haven't talked to her yet? I mean, since a few days ago? or at all?" a simple question and maybe even solution falls from the younger's lips, if only she understood how hard it was.

you heave a sigh, hanging your hand and then looking back up, "no, to all three questions."

"well, why not?"

"she's..." you stifle a laugh, "insane, to say the least. rude, mean, always angry. it's like if I even try, she wouldn't even listen."

she nods her head slowly, "maybe you can try now. you've never tried before right? maybe after everything that happened, you can finally try."

you stare at her for a few seconds, the sound of cars passing by on the street next to you. a small smile creeps onto your face and you blink slowly at the younger. what a good kid.

"okay eunchae, I'll try," you grab for her hand, taking it in your own, and walk her to the nearest place to get ice cream.

yunjin always goes out on nights like this to her favorite spot. everyone knows to find her there, sitting or laying down on a blanket looking up at the sky or leaning against the railing looking out towards the city lights. the roof of her apartment building, 12 floors up, music playing from her speaker, and an alcoholic drink in her grasp at times. lord knows, tonight she needs it. the past few nights she's needed it.

the elevator dings and the doors open to the rooftop. you walk out and there she is, leaning against the railing, face resting against her fist, her other hand swirling the half empty bottle of beer, looking out towards the night lights as music played. you take a deep breath and make your way reluctantly towards her. she doesn't budge when you take up the space a few feet away from her, standing with your hands in your jacket pockets, following her gaze of the view.

the silence is, comfortable. the tension is there but you're existing in the same area as yunjin and you're not screaming at each other (yet), so it's peaceful for as long as it lasts. and it lasts for a long time. standing there, breathing the same air, listening to the same music, heart beats increasing at the same rate, thoughts of what to say to break the silence both ringing in your heads.

surprisingly, you hear her voice begin, "you know, I really need you to be the person to speak first."

"you and I both know that's not fair, jen. you can't be the one to fuck everything up and make me be the person to repair it."

it's so much easier for her to be mad at you if you're the one to unleash anger at her. it'd be so much easier to hate you if you hated her. it'd be so much easier to say what she wanted to say if you felt the same way and told her first.

she stutters, you can see her eyes flicker out of the corner of your vision, "you... you're right."

yunjin repeats the phrase under her breath as you turn your head to look at her. her hands are messing with the glass bottle, stare affixed onto it.

she sighs and hangs her head, "I-I... I'm scared y/n."

you barely hear her speak, but it's loud enough for you to process, feeling your rapidly beating heart stop. huh yunjin is scared. she's scared and it's because of you.

you bite the inside of your cheek as she continues to stutter, "I don't know what this is, what I'm feeling. I-I'm confused. I fucking hate you, god I hate you so much. you annoy me, you anger me, you enrage me, everything you do makes my blood boil. so why can't I stop thinking about you? why do I feel so obsessed with you? you're the only thing that lives in my mind."

she looks up at the sky before continuing, "I've never been so fucking infatuated with a person in my entire life, so why now? and why you? what is it that I'm feeling? I get so angry with you, when you finally fuck something up, when you yell at me, when you roll your eyes because of me. I deserve the way you treat me, but you don't deserve that, so why do I do it? I've thought about it a lot but I don't want to anymore. why are you always in my head?"

you take the smallest step towards her and clear your throat to respond, but she stops you, "I know you're just friends with kazuha, but I can't help but feel my stomach churn when you're with her. I know it's a simple mistake when you misplace my hairbrush or accidentally eat my share of food, but I can't help but to snap at you. I know it's my fault for giving my less than adequate effort during practice, but it's so much easier to get angry at you for caring. you're just so perfect all the time, I can't help but to despise you for it. and I hate that maybe the part of me that hates you doesn't exist. I'm..."

"jealous," you finally get a word in, interrupting her instead of letting her finish.

it's true. she felt good whenever you would fuck up because it meant perfect little y/n wasn't so perfect. always writing or composing new music, always practicing and refining her craft, always being the nicest to the members, always trying and being the absolute best. yunjin felt threatened because she couldn't relate. yunjin felt jealous because she wanted what you had, stability. yunjin also felt jealous because she wanted you, and she couldn't have you.

the silence engulfs the air surrounding the two of you, the cold breeze suddenly heating up. it breaks early, your laugh piercing through the stillness, making the dark haired girl turn her head to look at you. you continue to laugh genuinely, the melodious sound ringing through yunjin's confused ears.

you sigh after recovering, wiping tears in your eyes, "did you just admit that you have a crush on me with all of that?"

the tall girl gulps and stumbles over her words, "h-huh? wh-what no? no no never! I mean what the fuck are you talking about? I-I was just trying to e-explain~!"

you run up and grasp her face in your hands, smashing your lips against hers, shutting her up quickly. her eyes bulge out of their sockets, looking down at your closed ones melting into her. she settles after the shock subsides, closing her eyes and bringing her hands to grip your waist, throwing the half full beer bottle onto the floor somewhere, not caring about it shattering. she pulls you in closer, moving her lips against yours passionately as you push her back against the railing.

the kiss is so intimate, your fingers lacing through her hair and her calloused fingertips rubbing the skin of your lower back. your mouths mold together as one moving unit, tongues clashing and saliva building up, the taste of cheap alcohol on yunjin's lips mixing with your melon ice cream flavored ones. you makeout until you can't breathe, your grips becoming stronger and stronger as the both of you beg the other not to pull away even if you so badly need to, pulling each other in closer like it's a challenge to stop if you dare do so.

it ends when her fingernails dig into your sides and a choked breath escapes your throat, pulling away a little in pain, panting and almost coughing like the air had been sucked from your lungs. you bury your face into her neck and bite down on her skin until you hear her whine at the pain, looking down to see the indent of your teeth, leaning back in to make a hickey, marking your territory on huh yunjin.

you whisper loud enough for her to hear against her skin, "you are fucking stupid and a coward, just a scared little girl."

she closes her eyes at your words and your mouth on her neck, "but if you try to be a better person, then maybe I'm okay with it."

"I'm sorry y/n, for everything." yunjin pulls you away from her and makes you look into her sorry-filled eyes.

you bring your hand up to caress her cheek then pinch it, giggling in her face, "you better be jen. you have a lot of work to do before you get a free redemption arc, you know that right?"

she bites her lip and nods, "I-I know..."

you feel your heart fill with warmth as yunjin's cheeks burn a bright red and darken as time goes on. ah, you're never letting her live this down.

you remember to buy a gallon tub of ice cream for hong eunchae.

a/n - everyone say TYSM EUNCHAEEEE!!! never thought I'd expand on this universe but this was fun to revisit! the og has gotten so much fucking love in the past TWO MONTHS NOW so ty guys for the support on it, I never thought I'd make it this far <333 sob sob I love yall

[arminsumi]

SUGURU LEARNING THE PIANO FOR YOU.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑

NOTE: pls ignore errors this is just a silly little fluff idea that popped into my head and i wrote it in one swing without planning so yes anyways REQUESTS ARE OPEN gimme all ur suguru/satoru/satosugu thoughts pls i accept fluff n smut n angst 🫡 or if u just wanna chat i promise i don't bite hehe

WARNINGS — lowercase used, fem reader, suguru calls you 'princess' once, a small bit of angst and self-deprecation (Suguru), kinda implied that satosugu both crush on you in college, gojo teasing you two bc he's an annoying little shit and i love him for that

JJK works

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

you met him when he was in his final year of high school, in the music room during after a practice lesson with his uptight teacher.

geto suguru was a little bit of a showoff, especially when he saw your face walk into the room. some friends and others hung around him — you know, he's just that kinda person that people want to hang around and be close to and talk to even if they have nothing of interest to say.

he was thumbing at a bass, eyeing you out without making it obvious. each time you tried to speak, someone interrupted like a twittering bird, and it annoyed him like nothing else.

so the next time you two met delighted him — because you were left alone. at first he pretended not to notice you coming in, but he had sharp ears and definitely heard the soft thumping of your footsteps. he had his eyes fixed on his guitar, twisting and turning the pegs at the head, testing until it was tuned to perfection. and then played something smooth and sultry, a melody that wove through the seats and other standing instruments right over to you.

"hey suguru."

"oh hey, didn't notice you there." he lied, voice as smooth and deep as the notes he had just played.

"mind if i listen?" you asked, taking a seat close to him — but not close enough for him. he wanted you closer. oh well, he decided that he'd use his talented fingers to allure you into closer proximity.

"of course." he smiled and continued playing nonchalantly.

that nonchalance is what caught so many high school girl's hearts. he never stopped being popular with the ladies even in college.

and come college, he picked up another instrument to learn; the piano. difficult. challenging. annoying. despite the benefit of his long fingers and naturally graceful movements, it just didn't come as naturally to him as stringed instruments.

but he knew you liked the piano, or so he thought, because he heard you compliment it once when satoru played piano in front of you.

so he asked his best friend, "can you teach me to play this song? it's y/n's favorite." naively thinking that it would be simple. a week is all it took for him to start letting out exasperated sighs over the keyboard.

"suguru, don't be so harsh on yourself." satoru said after hearing a self-deprecating speech from him, "piano is hard. you need a lot of patience, especially if it doesn't come naturally."

"i'm clumsy." suguru sighed, eyes saddening at the sight of his fingers resting over the black and white keys. "i don't think y/n will care to hear her favorite song being played so poorly. she'll force a compliment out of kindness. she's sweet like that."

"it's been a week." satoru shook his head, bumping legs with suguru as he changed his sitting position on the piano seat. "no one in the world is gonna be even averagely good at the piano in a week - that's impossible unless you're — "

" — a real prodigy. like someone i know." suguru smiled, teasing his best friend out of nowhere. "ah, satoru, what i'd give to have a crumb of your talent right now."

he earned a sympathetic arm around his shoulders.

"must suck to be talentless." satoru joked, "kidding. keep practicing, i wanna see those hands moving when i come back. want anything from the store?"

"diet coke." suguru said, "and something spicy? thanks."

when the white-haired boy lankily strode out of the music theater, the atmosphere became somberly quiet. it was a big theater, much bigger than the cramped music room back in high school.

just when suguru had began lamely practicing again, you walked in. he was so caught up in self-deprecating thoughts, so distracted by his own inner criticism, that he didn't notice.

"hey suguru." you greeted, giving him the fright of his life — he visibly jumped, causing a jarring sound to whine from the piano.

"hey? hey! what — hey." he freaked out for a second, then composed himself, "good to see you again, where you been?"

"i'm sorry — prof's been on my ass about missing assignments. and sorry for never replying to messages," you chuckled nervously, coming to an idle stand next to the piano as he watched you. "i'm so shit at texting."

"that you are..." he laughed with you, "but i'm not much better. i prefer talking face-to-face." and he thought to himself; especially if it's your face.

you smiled at him. a small silence passed, then you nodded at the piano and inquired about it. "practicing?"

"yeah... kind of."

"can i listen?"

he began to blush. you'd never seen him blush before that. it was so subtle that you were almost unsure if it really was blush — or just a trick of the noon light streaming in through the tiny square windows.

"i'm really bad." suguru responded self-consciously, nervously wiping his palms on his dress pants.

"don't care, i wanna listen." you pushed, catching hint of his self-consciousness and deciding to attempt to break through it.

"ah, 'nything for my princess, i guess." he chuckled softly under his breath. he'd started using that nickname with you only recently, 'cause he'd been falling more and more in love than in high school.

so he sat and played the piano for you.

awkward notes, some smooth and purposeful — others a noticeable mistake. he grimaced at those mistakes, you had to laugh.

"hey..." you hummed in realization as he played. his eyes flicked up at you from the piano. "that sounds familiar." you said, "learning chopin so early? isn't that a bit advanced?"

"it is, yeah... but i wanted to learn it for y- because i like him. he's great right?"

"mhm..." you smiled at suguru. "i wouldn't have expected you to like him. actually, it's really surprising you're learning piano at all — why did you decide to?"

suguru froze up for a moment.

"i don't know. i just wanted to." he shrugged, lying very smoothly with that voice of flowing rivers.

"it's just that... you've always talked about how bass and guitar are your beloveds, and you'd never touch anything else. so that's why i'm curious."

he froze up again. you were catching onto him, so he just admitted it as nonchalantly as possible.

"i wanted to learn it because you like it."

that made your heart thump a bit more wildly than it already was from being in his presence. something about suguru is that he's capable of making hearts race just with his voice alone.

"really?" you felt the crown of your cheeks warm up, a heat spreading down to your jawline. his face was going completely red.

"yeah?" he swallowed, almost choking, looking away. his pretty hands lightly rested on the keys. you wondered for a second about how it would feel to have them cupping your cheeks.

"that's really sweet of you... thank you." you said sincerely.

maybe it was the effect of your gaze, or your sincerity, or both, but he felt like it was hard to breathe.

"damn, the tension!" satoru's voice boomed, abruptly breaking the quiet between you and suguru. "i could cut it with a knife. you two should just kiss already — i bought popcorn, let me watch." he lifted a convenience store bag.

"satoru, how long have you been standing there!" you laughed nervously.

"a while. you guys would definitely be the first to die in a horror movie." he said, the liveliness of his voice such a jarring contrast for your ears.

suguru's face was still red. your fists were curled up and laid on the edge of the piano.

"okay, just blurt it out already you two! so frustrating! this isn't a damn slow burn romance novel, just get together already."

"shut up," you laughed embarrassedly, "damn third wheel."

"i am not the third wheel — y/n, if you date suguru you're also dating me i hope y'know that. that's just how it works."

suguru let out an incredulous laugh. "oh my god, please, satoru."

"what? just being honest — don't look at me like that y/n i didn't mean i like you!" now satoru started blushing, "i'm just saying!" and then proceeded to over-explain himself while you and suguru dissolved into laughter.

[heartss4val]

"here comes the sun."

synopsis: a son of poseidon and a child of apollo is quite an interesting combination. pairing: percy jackson x gn child of apollo reader headcanons. word count: 0.8k

• First of all, absolute power couple.

• Percy's expertise in water-based activities and your talents in archery and healing provides a unique balance and synergy in your relationship. Together, you're a powerhouse of skill and talent. You'd both be able to play off each other's strengths and cover each other's weaknesses very well, with your different skills being an advantage. (everybody knows this. you two aren't allowed to be on the same team of Capture the Flag anymore because in no world would that be a fair game.)

• Percy is absolutely in awe of you. He thinks you're the coolest person in the world and he's especially enamored with your musical talent. He feels a deep sense of pride whenever you perform because not only is he amazed by your abilities and dedication but also, you're this talented??? How??? Like, you're gorgeous, intelligent, skillful, AND you can shred on the guitar?? Leave some for the rest of us, damn.

• Painting dates!! Sort of. Most of the time they consist of Percy doodling on the side of your canvas while you actually paint, but neither of you mind. Percy's drawings are — in your opinion — the highlight of the entire date. Some of your favorite doodles of his include stick figure drawings of you and him, copies of whatever you're painting, and random water buffalos for literally no reason whatsoever… but they're kinda cute though.

• Jam sessions in music stores aren't uncommon when the two of you are on break. They usually consist of you trying out different instruments while Percy trails behind you, asking the most miscellaneous questions.

"What's this thing?" Percy asks, holding up a device that he found while you were browsing. "It's a capo," you respond, checking the price tag on a lyre you've had your eye on. "It's used to raise the pitch of the strings on a guitar by clamping onto the head." "Why's it look like a laundry clip?" "Some questions are better left unanswered, Percy."

• Percy is big on quality time and he loves partaking in your interests. He never really bothered to improve at archery, but if you're practicing it then he's going with you, even if he's not very good at it. He doesn't even particularly mind when you chide him for messing up because he can tell by your smile that you're not really mad at him and — okay, he's not exactly trusted around your guitar anymore either, but it's the thought that counts.

• Your boyfriend loves, loves, LOVES when you show off your artistic abilities. Just when he thought you couldn't get more talented, he sees you working on a painting and, gosh, it's like he fell in love all over again. He just finds it so impressive how you can tell so many stories through your art, and he most definitely has a few of your pieces framed. He lets you draw on his personal belongings all the time. His sneakers, skateboard, you get the point. And he always stares at them whenever he starts to miss you too. Hell, he'll even let you doodle on his arm if you want to. (he traces over your doodles when they start to fade.)

• One of Percy's love languages is definitely physical touch. Whether it's a hand around your waist or an arm slung around your shoulder, he's always touching you in one way or another. He also shows his physical affection with smaller gestures, such as linking pinkies, leaning his knee against yours, playing with your fingers, etc. Also, hand kisses. A lot of them. I'm talking Jane Austen style, warm kisses to each of your fingers before parting.

• Matching jewelry!! A while back, you gifted him a sun necklace, which he proudly wears around the camp. In return, he bought you an ocean charm for your charm bracelet.

"So we can match!" Explained Percy, clipping on the charm to your bracelet as you held out your hand for him. "And look," He said once it was secured. Percy flipped over the charm to reveal your initials and his, joined with a plus sign engraved on the back. The charm jingles around whenever you two hold hands, which causes both of you to smile. ( + percy runs his fingers over the necklace you gifted him whenever he starts to miss you :( )

• Percy often collects things that remind him of you. Lemon-flavored candy, sunflowers, heart-shaped rocks, you name it. He keeps them all arranged neatly on his desk, right next to the origami hippocampi you made for him.

• You two are so in sync with each other, it's crazy. If you're ever in a "don't laugh." situation, do NOT look over at Percy because the second you two make eye contact, you'll be laughing up a storm.

• Your personalities complement each other so well; your presence being a soothing balance to Percy's sometimes impulsive and unpredictable personality. You're the light of his life and he wouldn't have it any other way.

a/n

thank u for all the requests, but i decided to go with this one!! requests are still open tho cuz im in desperate need of inspo. (ik it says requests open for riodanverse but i mainly write for just percy now.)

okok see u next time!!

xx, val.

[ghxstmxchine]

ʟɪᴘꜱᴛɪᴄᴋ ꜱᴛᴀɪɴꜱ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: it's almost show time for your band but those minutes seem to be taking forever because of the tension between you and a certain guitarist in the band...

☆ ᴀ/ɴ: in the theme of me being terribly down bad for Hobie I wrote this. band au my beloved,,, and the reader plays bass bc that's the only instrument I'm good at

☆ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟꜱ: SFW // Hobie Brown x male!reader // w.c: 1.6k // warnings: smoking, lots of shameless flirting, not proofread as per usual

“Hobie?” You call over your shoulder, swearing under your breath after your eyeliner pencil broke for what felt like the third time that weekend. That’s what you get for buying the cheapest option at the store.

There’s shuffling outside the dressing room, the door swinging open and Hobie leans against the door frame, eyes narrowed and staring closely at you and arms folded in front of his chest. “You called?”

“Got another eyeliner pencil? Mine keeps breaking.” You huff, knowing full well Hobie wore enough eyeliner on stage to rival a raccoon. He nods and disappears for a moment, returning with a small tube in hand. You breathe a sigh of relief, standing to go grab it from him but he quickly moves his arm out of reach, leaning in close enough that your faces are inches apart.

“Gonna say thank you or anything, luv?” He teases, a smirk playing on his lips painted black with lipstick. He’s so… close. Weirdly so, as if he’s trying to get some sort of reaction out of you. And he does, you can feel a strange warmth coursing through you that makes your knees feel weak.

But you step closer, ignoring the way your stomach twists quickly grabbing it from Hobie’s hand. “Yeah, thanks for recommending me such a shit eyeliner.” You mumble and roll your eyes, slumping back in front of the mirror to finish getting ready. 

“Mm, if I recall correctly I told you not to buy it. Someone didn’t want to listen, huh?” Hobie drawls, his hands resting on the back of your chair and watching you through the mirror as you apply the eyeliner, a lazy smile playing on his lips. There’s something about him tonight that you can’t place, the small room feeling stuffier than usual. “Thank god I had an extra, gotta make sure the pretty boy stays pretty.” He hums.

“As if I’m not pretty all the time?” You respond jokingly, trying to keep a steady hand as the pencil runs along your waterline, leaving behind a trail of black.

Hobie leans in closer, the chair groaning with his weight as his eyes meet yours in the mirror, they looked darker but it could’ve been the low light of the room. “Oh luv, you’re so much more than just pretty.” He says lowly, his breath tickling the shell of your ear and making your breath hitch. There was something bordering on dangerous about Hobie’s tone.

You click the cap back on the eyeliner, placing it on the table and not caring to even hand it to Hobie before rising to your feet and grabbing your jacket. “Are you drunk or something?” You ask as you shrug the jacket on, moving quickly to escape the heavy tension shrouding you both in the room.

Hobie holds his hands up in a defensive motion, grinning wildly at you. “Haven’t even touched a drop.” He chuckles without missing a beat. “What makes you think that?”

“Gonna be a big show tonight. We all deal with our anxieties differently.” You mumble, not exactly lying. Hobie shrugs and waves your implication off, stealing your seat to fix his own makeup as you leave the room to go find your bass.

You lug it off of the couch, throwing the strap over your shoulder as your other hand reaches for the cold metal of the pegs. It’s not as painfully out of tune as usual, the sound smooth and full as you pluck the strings, trying to focus on getting the right pitch and not how your brain is swirling with thoughts about Hobie. The way his voice sounds reverberates in your head more than the deep hum of the strings, the sounds mixing together in a strange stomach churning symphony.

It wasn’t exactly new, Hobie tended to be a flirty person and was completely shameless about it. It was almost like it was second nature for suggestive comments to spill from his lips, drinking up the sight of blushing faces and embarrassment like some sort of amorous vampire. You’d almost written it off as some sort of strange hazing when you first joined the band before you learned Hobie was just like that.

Well, he was like that with you specifically, his hand staying the few extra seconds on the small of your back whenever he passed behind you in the dressing room. Or those compliments on how good everyone looked seemingly being directed at you more than anyone else. And how he looked at you on stage, god he looked at you like you were some kind of meal.

Yeah, something was up with Hobie.

You cussed when your sweaty hand slips on the fretboard, messing up the bassline you’d been absentmindedly practicing for the past few minutes. You were nervous, struggling to get your hand back in place to play again, shaking too hard to press the strings down so they don’t rattle against the body.

You clamber to your feet, shoving your hands in your pocket and fishing out the last cigarette you’d managed to save this long. The outside air is cool and you can hear the far away chatter of fans queuing up outside the venue. Leaning against the cold brick of the alley wall, you light your cigarette and breathe out a cloud of smoke into the cold air.

“You got another I could bum off ya?” Hobie’s voice breaks your peace as he approaches, that same smirk on his face. 

“This was my last one.”

“I haven’t got anythin’ against sharing.” He chuckles and plucks it from your fingers without asking, slotting the cigarette between lipstick smeared lips and breathing in deeply. His lipstick stains the paper and he breathes the smoke out into your face, making your eyes water. “Y’know staring’s rude.”

“So is taking my cig.” You grunt and take it from his fingers, momentarily brushing against his hand. He’s warm and it makes you suck in a shocked breath, immediately averting your gaze from him. Ignoring the black lipstick stains you slip the cigarette back between your lips.

“And so is not sharing.” Hobie retorts, relaxing against the wall next to you, all his jewelry and pins jingling like a wind chime. He’s watching you and you know it, you can feel his heavy gaze on you and it’s nearly suffocating, watching from your peripheral as his eyes rove over your body. “What’s with the new look, tryin’ to catch someone’s eye?”

“Just felt like changing it up.” You mumble, ignoring the way your face gets hotter. Hobie’s heavy boots drag along the concrete as he steps in front of you, practically boxing you in. You stay cool, breathing smoke back in his face and he rolls his eyes.

“Well I like it, think you look stunnin’ dear.” Hobie drawls, his hand cupping your cheek. His hand is rough against your skin, the calluses from playing guitar are noticeable but something about it feels… good. Familiar in a way. His thumb strokes your cheekbone and your breath stutters, the cigarette falling from your lips to the ground but neither of you pay it any mind. “Mm, I like the eyeliner on you. Fits ya just right.”

“I like the lipstick.” You blurt out suddenly and Hobie chuckles, looming closer to your face. You can feel his breath on your cheek and it tickles but you don’t move, still firmly pressed against the wall. 

“Thought you would, too bad it gets messy too easily.”

“Messy, how?”

“Hm? You really don’t know luv?” He says breathlessly. You both are holding your breath, inches away from each other, waiting to see who will move first. Who will break the tension building in the air. His hand is on your hip and you don’t recall when it got there, his touch burning through your clothes and making your skin warm. “You want me to show you how?” 

You’re nodding before you even know you are, before you’re even aware of the feeling of Hobie’s lips on yours. It’s quick, barely taking a second before his weight is crushing you against the wall and his lips are pressed firmly against yours. It’s intoxicating, just the simple feeling is enough to make you light headed as he kneads your lips together, his lip ring cold on your skin but making your skin flare up with warmth.

His tongue traces the seam of your mouth, tasting nicotine and the small ball of his tongue piercing feels strange against your own tongue. You let him slip into your mouth, melding together as you move in tandem against each other, kissing shamelessly in the dimly lit alley way. Hobie is good, knowing just what to do to leave you breathless and you follow, turning into a strange tug of war for pleasure.

But before anything else can come from it, before his hand can move and lower on his lip and your head can turn any more cloudy, he pulls away. You both stand there huffing for a moment, bodies tingling and eyes dark with lust. Hobie’s lipstick is smeared on his face, black lines swiping down his chin and on his cheek.

“That’s how.” He hums without skipping a beat, pulling away and fixing his shirt. He steps on the cigarette, stubbing it out before turning on his heel. “Don’t forget that we go on in ten.” He says over his shoulder as he waltzes back towards the door, acting like nothing had happened. 

“And wipe the lipstick off your face before everyone starts starin’.” He adds before the door closes behind him, leaving you alone in the alley.

[mikeywayarchive]

Mikey Way: “I was borderline terrified a lot of the time My Chemical Romance was active. I was learning the bass in front of 20,000 people every night!”

By Gregory Adams ( Bass Player ) published June 9th 2023

The reunited emo kings’ low-end ranger reveals why he swapped out his signature Fender Mustang for a sparkling new signature Jazz Bass, learning bass in arenas, and how he overcame insecurity about his chops

Full interview under cut:

My Chemical Romance’s reunion has seen bassist Mikey Way thrumming through the high pomp punk of The Black Parade and Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge favorites with a familiar rhythmic fortitude, but keen-eyed band obsessives have probably noticed the musician is no longer sporting the snazzy, silver-flake Squier Mustang signature model Fender built for him back in 2012. 

The good news is that’s because, as Fender have just formally announced, Way has a brand-new – but just as glammy – Jazz Bass out now. There’s a good reason why Way’s made the switch: the Jazz Bass is his first love.

Though he started out on guitar, Way got the hang of a four-string in the mid ‘90s while playing a loaned-out Jazz Bass in his pre-My Chemical Romance project, Ray Gun Jones. He upgraded to a silver-finish Jazz of his own by the time MCR started touring in the early ‘00s, but a trailer mishap led to that instrument getting smashed to pieces on a highway.

Way tells Guitar World that he eventually became obsessed with the short-scale sturdiness of a Mustang bass guitar as My Chemical Romance were writing their 2010 full-length, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, after fooling around with a model Duff McKagan had left at North Hollywood’s Mates Rehearsal Studio. By 2012, Way had his Squier model in stores.

It was during the downtime after My Chemical Romance went on hiatus in 2013, though, that the stubbiness of his Mustang became a little hard to handle.

“I stayed away from playing bass for a little while, which is natural – I was just decompressing,” Way explains. “Then, sometime in 2014, I picked up the bass again, to get my chops back, [but] I noticed that the Mustang felt strange to me.” 

After reaching out to the folks at Fender, Way got a grip on his playing by stretching out on the longer-necked Jazzes they sent him. Way’s take on the Jazz Bass is outfitted with ’70s-style single-coil pickups, and a thinline “C”-shaped maple neck the bassist says is super-speedy.

The finish is silver, of course, but Way also wanted an aesthetically inkier black pickguard. The headstock, likewise, pops with its matching gloss-black finish.

Speaking with Guitar World, Way gets into the glam and grunge gods who inspired his love of a good sparkle coat, overcoming performance anxiety, and why a steady attack wins the bass race every time.

What were some of the musts when it came to designing this latest signature?

“I’ve been obsessed with the sparkle finish as far back as I can remember. Growing up in the ‘90s, the silver-flake [finish] was big in alternative music. Chris Cornell had the Gretsch Silver Jet, [Daniel Johns] from Silverchair had one – [with] the imagery the Smashing Pumpkins used, they liked sparkles.

“Ace Frehley, of course, was big into flake finishes, and as a kid, you love the larger-than-life, comic book world of Kiss. [And there’s] David Bowie – the glam rock stuff. That flake finish makes me think of so many different things, but that’s why I love it so much.

“I remember being younger and going into stores and seeing a flake finish and being like, 'Oh my god, that’s an expensive [looking guitar] – I can’t afford that, let alone play it.' It was almost intimidating.”

One aesthetic difference between your Mustang model and this Jazz is that you didn’t throw a racing stripe on this one.

“I thought about bringing it back and keeping the continuity. Maybe somewhere down the line we’ll throw a racing stripe on this. The thing with [seeing a] racing stripe was always like, 'This player is a badass!'”

Is there a psychology behind removing the racing stripe, then?

“The psychology behind it is that I forgot about it. When My Chemical Romance was talking about doing reunion shows [in 2019], I’d contacted Michael Schulz from Fender and was like, 'Is it OK if I make a new bass for this [next] era of My Chemical Romance?' I wanted to take my past and bring it to the future – taking my Mustang and melding it with the Jazz Basses that I loved so much. 

“I tried to have my cake and eat it, too. I wanted the thinner neck, and I wanted the silver-flake, but I wanted it on a Jazz Bass. They knocked it out of the park immediately.”

Getting back to how you used to admire those silver-flake guitars in the shops, you actually started out as a guitarist, right?

“So, the story goes that my brother [My Chemical Romance vocalist Gerard Way] had a Sears acoustic guitar when he was 10 years old. We would take a shoelace and make a strap, and we would stand on the couch pretending we were in Iron Maiden. And then it got real around ’93-’94, which lines up with the rise of alternative music. You started to see people that looked exactly like you, and they were playing guitar. They were playing Fender Strats! 

“My brother got a Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue. I found it not too long ago, and Michael from Fender hot-rodded it. That’s how I cut my teeth – that Mexican Stratocaster [was] my first foray into really trying to learn how to play guitar. I would watch bootlegs of concerts, and watch [guitarists’] hands and fingers – Thom Yorke, Billy Corgan, Noel Gallagher, Jonny Greenwood. I would watch what they were doing. It all started from that.

“Bass came out of necessity, twice. Me and my brother had a band called Ray Gun Jones, I guess in ’95-’96. It was kind of Weezer-ish, or us doing a surf-punk thing [with] a little bit of pre-mid-west emo. At the time we were really into Weezer, Jawbreaker, Promise Ring, Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana, Sunny Day Real Estate. 

“[Ray Gun Jones] needed a bass player, so my brother was like 'Hey, do you want to play bass for my band?' I was already a huge fan – I’d always tag along to practices. The ex-bass player let me borrow their bass. We had 4-5 songs, and I got the rudimentary from that. In that era, everyone was like, 'I want to be a guitar hero,' but I realized I had a natural knack for [bass]. I picked it up right away. 

“Then, with My Chemical Romance, it was the same thing. My brother was like, 'We need a bass player,' and I was like, 'Well, this is familiar' [laughs]. 'Here’s the demo; learn these songs.' They weren’t terribly difficult.”

Was that bass you had borrowed a Fender Jazz?

“Yup, I’ve only ever played Fender. I’ve tried tons of other basses from other companies, but it always feels alien to me.”

You mentioned studying the playing of Thom Yorke or Billy Corgan through those bootleg vids. Were there any bassists that you treated similarly, to understand the mechanics of bass?

“Matt Sharp from Weezer. I tried to ape him in the beginning, but my attack sounds vaguely reminiscent of a Smashing Pumpkins recording. I would learn Siamese Dream and Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, and the Blue Album [the band’s 1994 self-titled debut] by Weezer. Those were the three albums that I put the most time into learning. That’s in my DNA.”

How about from a hyper-local perspective. If My Chemical Romance started out playing New Jersey basements and VFW halls, where there any bassists from that scene that inspired you, or that you appreciated?

“Yes! We shared a rehearsal space with this band called Pencey Prep – that was [MCR guitarist] Frank Iero’s original band. John McGuire was their bassist, and he let me borrow his equipment all the time. He taught me fundamentals, and gave me pointers – he taught me a whole heck of a lot. 

“I always respected Tim Payne from Thursday, I loved his attack and stage presence. And when I’d watch Gabe Saporta from Midtown, I thought 'This dude is the coolest guy in the room.' He’s got this calm, cool, and collected [presence] that you can’t fake or learn. And then Eben D’amico from Saves the Day – brilliant! 

“I would try to learn Saves the Day basslines. They were pretty complex [compared to] what most bands were doing in that scene. Most bands in the post-hardcore scene had simplistic basslines, but Saves the Day did not.

“There’s also Ray Toro, the guitar player of My Chemical Romance. Not only is he truly gifted at guitar, but he’s truly gifted at bass and drums – Ray can do everything. He was instrumental, early on, with showing me the ropes. Ray gave me lessons when I was a novice. I can’t thank him enough for that.”

What kind of pointers was he giving you?

“He showed me proper fretting, or [how to maintain] a steady attack. I got a really great compliment from our front-of-house guy, Jay Rigby. He told me that I’m one of the very few bass players that he doesn’t have to go in and tweak the volume [for]. 'You’re steady, throughout.' I think that’s something that Ray Toro instilled in me: the consistency of attack. 

“It’s funny thinking about it, but I was such a novice going into My Chemical Romance that I would bring myself into an anxiety-ridden state of, 'Oh my god, we have a show tonight; I have to start practicing right now.' I would be practicing four to five hours before we played – I’d play the set [in the green room], and then I’d play it again. Other bands would be like, 'What are you doing?' I was so neurotic at that point, because there were so many people around me that were beyond gifted. 

“I got pushed into the deep end; you’ve got no choice but to figure it out. Ray and Frank are so gifted that I had to keep up. I didn’t want to ever do the music a disservice.

“That brings me back to the simplicity of the early My Chem basslines. The first album [2002’s I Brought You Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love] was me learning the bass, and somehow [producer] John Naclerio recorded me and said, 'You did a great job,' which I did not expect. 

“I thought I was going to go in there and they were going to have to do some studio magic, or someone would come in and play [my] part. I thought of the worst-case scenario, but I went in and did it. I played the bass seriously [enough] by that point.”

What are you generally looking for in a My Chemical Romance bassline? 

“What makes it for me is if I do a fill, I’ll only do it once. If you listen to [the band's 2022 comeback single] The Foundations of Decay, any fill on there I only do one time. What’s interesting about The Foundations of Decay is that it’s very loose and run-and-gun. We went in and punched things in for timing, which everyone in the world does, but the meat of that is first-or-second take. Which brings me to someone else who was very instrumental to my bass playing: Doug McKean.

“He’s no longer with us, unfortunately, but he was our engineer from The Black Parade [until his passing in 2022]. He was always a huge cheerleader for me – he instilled confidence in me. He was always good at getting a killer performance out of me.”

What are some of the biggest My Chemical Romance bass moments for you?

“I’ll say that fill in on Foundations. No-one saw that coming.”

There’s a YouTube video out there of someone playing their favorite Mikey Way basslines, some while using your signature Squier Mustang, but one standout in particular is The Black Parade’s The Sharpest Lives.

“What’s funny is Sharpest Lives has a bass solo, and I was terrified of it. I had performance anxiety [through] the 12 years before we broke up – I don’t have it anymore. Somehow when the band got back together, a switch in my brain [got] flipped. [But] while My Chem was active, I was borderline terrified a lot of the time.

“I’m playing with people far above my skill level, I’m playing [on bills] with bands where their bass players are way better than me, [and] our shows were getting massive. We were playing arenas! So not only are you learning the bass, but you’re learning the bass in front of 20,000 people every night. It made me tweak a little, but I think it shaped me into what I became.

“That solo gave me anxiety. It was when we were playing the biggest venues of our career, and it would break for the solo [Way starts singing his ascending bass lick]. I practiced it relentlessly, then it [became] second nature. Later on, it [became my favorite part of the show.”

You’re already playing the Jazz signature in your live show, yeah?

“It’s what I use for the live show. Basically, Fender built [it] for the reunion, and then we made a couple tweaks for when we release it.”

Was there a learning curve at all towards transferring My Chemical Romance songs you’d written on a Mustang onto the Jazz?

“There was Planetary (GO!), a song off Danger Days. I’d guess you’d say the whole thing is a disco beat. It’s dance-y – [Mikey starts singing an octave-popping bassline], I do that for the entirety of the song. I was very happy that I only had to do that on a Mustang, initially [because of the shorter scale]. But going back to what I said, [after] I took a little break, [I] went back to a Jazz Bass. 

“I missed the room, or the way my hand went up and down the neck. I wanted to go back to that, so I jumped back in and felt right at home again.”

How many Jazzes are you bringing on the road?

“I bring two basses out, [but] I stopped even switching [during the set]. This is a testament to Fender craftsmanship – that thing stays in tune. It’s got the four-saddle bridge, and it stays in tune so well. I’m a little neurotic so I’ll tune every few songs, but if I went five to six songs you probably wouldn’t even notice.”

What does it mean to you to now have a fully-formed Fender signature model – as opposed to the Squier – and with the body shape you began your career with?

“It’s really a dream come true. It’s funny, in 2002-3 we started touring across the country. I had a Mexican Jazz Bass, but [the band] were like, 'You have to use something with better electronics; better wood. Step it up!' So, I went into the Guitar Center on Route 46 in New Jersey, and at the time Fender had released a special Guitar Center edition that was silver-flake. 

“It always bugged me that the pickguard was white – it threw me off, aesthetically, and I was like, 'I’m going to change that pickguard one day.' So, I got that, and I was using that for a while. 

“We were out with [Boston emo quartet] Piebald – it was one of our first cross-country tours ever – and one night someone forgot to close the trailer door. We’re driving on the highway, and half the contents spilled out – unfortunately, my bass was a casualty of that.

“But Frank Iero, and his heart of gold, jumped out on the highway in the middle of the night and tried to recover [the bass]. He was like, 'Maybe we can fix it!' I’ll never forget him doing that. He got a chunk of it – it’s in one of our storage units.”

For more information on the Limited Edition Mikey Way Jazz Bass, head to Fender.com.

[stayconnecteed]

han jisung drabble    —   993 words !

17 : 29⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it had been hard not to fall in love with han jisung. you'd been trying for months, your lips curving into smiles that were never quite fake enough, your fingers sliding between his when they should have stayed in your pocket, his eyes meeting yours in a thousand and one places where you should have been looking at something else. it had been hard, and maybe you hadn't tried at all because deep down what you wanted most was that free fall, your heart beating with the chaotic, accelerated rhythm of someone in love, your cheeks turning red for no reason, and that bright aura that showered over you every time he pronounced your name.

but it was monday, the day he had rehearsal with his band, and you had left the gym early so you could go see him, your damp hair wetting the cushioned back of the chair, the ends curling up because they were already drying. he hadn't seen you, but you had seen him, and you could only admire the relaxed way his fingers caressed the strings of his guitar, the rumbling sound on the amplifier accompanying his voice as an eager puppy follows its owner, and the way he pronounced each word of the song's lyrics painting emotions in your chest. when you saw him enjoying the music it was like watching him dreaming with birds in his throat, the curve of a fa clef illuminating his lips with satisfaction.

and then the pianist had stopped the vision that was jisung on stage, announcing in a thick accent that it had gone perfectly, that he didn't think they needed to rehearse much more, though they would still see each other again the following monday. and your boy had looked to where he knew you would be waiting for him, his eyes like crescent moons, his smile drawing a heart between his cheeks, a crooked and irregular one, but one that belonged only to you. he had hurried to pack up, putting the electric guitar away with the rest of the instruments but hanging the strap of his acoustic guitar around his chest, meeting you at the door, with the same devotion with which his hand had met yours as soon as he had you near him.

because since you'd met him, all your mondays had been just as warm. because once you'd walked outside, your hands hanging intertwined in the sweet almond shape that formed the void between your bodies as you told him how your day had gone, his words crowding into his mouth as he tried to explain what he'd done in the morning, everything was blue and home, like dancing barefoot on the beach and the burst of strawberry flavor on a vacation afternoon. it was april, and you could feel summer at your fingertips, close enough to breathe a sigh of relief, but desperately far enough away to feel nostalgic for the one before.

in those moments of enamored reassurance that you had tried so hard to avoid then, you were lost now, his laughter sliding across your shoulders, your lips on his, silences of whispers and sighs that belonged to the both of you as you wandered to the nearest convenience store. and the contrast between the palm of his hand, warm against your skin, and the refreshing coolness you felt once he rested it again after taking the glass of cold ice tea from the freezer at the back of the store, the condensed drops of melting ice trapped between his fingers and your hip, were a reminder of what happened when no one was looking.

and then you stood in line to pay, as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his mouth forming monologues of incoherent worship against your neck, you found yourself unable to untangle his arms from your waist, the elderly store owner gazing lovingly at you. and then, as he drank and coated his upper lip without knowing it, the way his skin took on an instant crimson when you took his face in your hands, cheeks rough against your palms from not having shaved in a few days, you kissed the tea away. and then, as he babbled an excuse for the blushing mess he had become, he offered to share his earbuds until you reached the spot in the park where you always cuddled.

later he would offer his oversized hoodie as a blanket, your dress slipping up your thighs as you sat down, his legs folded under yours, and he would rest a hand on your bare skin while you picked up his guitar, ready to show him how much you had practiced the four chords he had taught you the week before. and you didn't see the way he looked at you, big brown eyes containing the universe in his pupils, lovesick smile, his heart on the verge of insanity, utterly devoted to you, but it was the same way your gaze fell on him when you asked him to play for you a song and he started ripping notes from the strings with an almost painful softness, concentrating on the rhythm, drowning in words that didn't exist to show you how much he loved you.

it had been hard not to fall in love with han jisung, but you hadn't even tried. as long as the birds sang wind songs about you two, as long as you were willing to peel oranges for him even if he didn't ask you to, as long as your memories were poetry and guitars and brief glances, then you'd never forget each other. because then you could smile freely, hold his hand without fear and look at him as much as you wanted to. it was a monday after five in the afternoon and you were awash in music, enjoying the kind of love that only happens once in a lifetime and obsessed with each other.

© stayconnecteed 2024 · do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms

[gojoroui]

what do your moots remind you of?

tysm for turning this in nonnie, i was really exited to try this <3 & the fact i thought i had NO MOOTS when i literally have like 33 💀

@wvnrqs — ribbons & bows, old newspapers, pretty swans, tulips, bubbles during a summer day, vintage books

@ode2rin — cats, plushies, desserts, pillow sheets, clouds during a sunset, slice of life vlogs

@yuzurins — chirping birds in pretty meadows, bubble tea, spring mornings, green tea, flowers, plants

@okkalo — golden coins, rainbows, duckies, cardigans, soft breeze at night, lakes, cherries

@noomon — the sun, diaries, simple yet beautiful things, love letters, projectors, mini fireworks

@yoisami — serenity, raindrops falling down a window, youth, modeling posters, strawberries, bunnies

@mikareo — twinkling stars, lattes, romance k dramas, museum of arts, recording studios, eclipse

@rinzsu — instagram posts, cookies, snowman, masquerade balls, photo albums, the beach

@hanrinz — stars, k-pop concerts, snowflakes, headphones, mini skirts, candles on a rainy day

@rosequarzo — japanese folktale, lucky money, headphones, fantasize by ariana grande, toast, waking up at 2am for a snack

@adoregojo — modern universities, polaroids, black & white manga, hairclips, milk tea, bonnets

@riekiss — winter wonderland, snow angels, jewelry, dolphins bumping noses, mini skirts, slowly plucking petals off a flower

@popponn — frogs ofc, matcha, perfectly healthy & straight grass, keroppi, bootcut jeans, chanel soap

@rewh0re — autumn leaves, wooden instruments, music notes, greek & rome mythology, poetry, sacred monuments

@y2kuromi — sand castles, colorful ice cream flavors, perfect pair by beabadoobee, staying up to talk with friends until 1am, pretty seashells, butterflies

@pokkomi — glitter & sparkles, staring at clouds, fantasy genre, cargos, hello kitty, angels

@yunymphs — models, laufey, coquette aesthetic, anything gucci, attractive girls, money

@520cafe — sparrows, cats chasing after yarn strings, thirsty by aespa, picture frames, rice with soy sauce, playlists

@etoiile — lipstick, fashion, staring at the starry night sky, french cookies, milk, daisies

@moonswolfie — coffee, studying with a candlelight during a rainy day, scarves, autumn breeze, biscuits, puppies

@kyoghurts — saturn, friendly aliens, lipstick stains on a white shirt, peach eyes by wave to earth, carp streamers, chalk

@kxttqi — lilies, sunrise & sunsets, lion cubs, melting candles, strawberries, pretty instagram posts

@kaiser1ns — book shelves, j-pop, cheesecake, birthday streamers, lucky money, tigers

@rninies — aventurine, unforgiven by le sserefim, pochacco, mangoes, flip phones, figurine boxes

@iluvies — kaomoji, koi ponds, expensive restaurants, red velvet cake, pottery, bunnies that have their nose scrunched up

@lovedazai — sweet bananas, lily of the valley, bouquet of roses, the smell when you walk into a bakery, prom nights, fairytales

@scopuo — jjk theme song, video games, dvds, tote bags, japanese apartments, thrift stores

@culturity — watching edits at 3am, stargirl, cleared remix by lilithzplug, nokia phone, laces, ramen

@myuroll — my melody, rubber duckies, alice from wonderland, koi fishes, cake rolls, the feeling when when someone gives you a compliment

@noirflms — flower petals, cherry blossoms, coquette clothing, hoodies, pinterest whispers, apocalypse by cigs after sex

@wishmemel — wish me mell, chocolate covered strawberries, the moon, pretty nails, new york at night, mcdonald’s chicken nuggets

@saelique — ocean waves, san-x, doves, kindergarteners (bc ur cute & fun ^^), friends to lovers trope, headphones, staying in bed for 5 more minutes b4 school

@yeritos — pudding, iced coffee, pearl necklaces, mesmerizing color palettes, skipping rocks, mary jane shoes, lamp

[persephone411]

The Cellist (Jw x reader)

My second one shot, this time also with actual smut (although I am not sure if it’s good.I’ve never written smut before). Yes, I play cello so I had to write this.

Summary: An attractive stranger approaches you after a concert.

Masterlist

After you played the last note and lowered your bow, the room erupted in applause. You smiled and then stood up from your chair and bowed down with the rest of your string quartet.

“what a lovely performance” Winston, the head of the hotel where you just performed stepped on the stage. It was your first gig at the prestigious continental Hotel and you couldn’t help but curiously look around the audience. Most people wore suits and stood with drinks in the room.

“Thank you for playing. It’s always nice to have these little concerts” the hotel manager explained and you and your fellow musicians smiled politely.

“Now, for the rest of the evening, feel free to Check out our bar or Lounge area. We will then discuss details for further performances.” Another round of applause, then Winston left the stage and the crowd started to dissolve. Quicky you packed your cello in its suitcase, then you went back to your room to store it. In the hotel room bathroom you quicky refreshed your make up, then you went back downstairs to the bar and lounge area, feeling confident in your elegant black dress and heels. At the bar you sat down and ordered a martini. As you looked around the room you could see Josh, one of the violists talk to Winston, probably about further performances and Lissy, who played the viola in your quartet flirt with a blonde short haired woman. You smiled and took a sip of your drink.

“Shostakovich wasn’t it?”

A voice said suddenly. You turned around and found yourself next to an attractive Dark haired stranger. Longish dark hair, a perfectly trimmed beard and. Black turtleneck under a black blazer.

Completely taken aback by his attractiveness you blinked.

“Excuse me?”

The man chuckled, it was a deep, soft noice which sent shivers down your spine.

“The last piece you played. It was Shostakovich wasn’t it?”

Now you smiled

,,yes, very good, someone knows their composers” you smiled up at the stranger who was now sipping on a glass of Whiskey.

“I listened often to him when I was younger, brings back memories, John wick is my name by the way”

“(Y/N), Nice to meet you Mr. wick”

Your gazes met and you imediatly knew how this night would end, or at least how you wanted it to end. In his or your hotel room, with him buried deep inside you. Only the thought of it made you squirm and sent shivers down your spine. You took a sip of your drink to calm yourself down.

As you returned your gaze to John, he was staring down at you, even though he was standing while you were sitting on a bar stool.

“If you were want to I could show you my cello” you whispered to break the tension.

“Yes” he murmured hoarsely. The he cleared his throat and finished his drink. You followed suit and only shortly after you were on the way to your room. On the way you explained a bit about your musical background and your instrument but as soon as you entered the hotel room everything music related was forgotten. The moment the door behind you closed his lips were on yours and his strong arms were wrapped around your waist. You answered his kiss fiercely and John groaned while his hands wandered over your back .Quicky he got rid of his blazer and your Shoes and tights followed quickly.

“Get on the bed” he ordered hoarsely. Completely breathless you could only nod and bit your lip as he stripped out of his turtleneck and slacks. He then got onto the bed and started kissing you feverishly, his lips wandered over your jaw and neck, causing you to shiver out of pleasure. Lightly he bit down and a gasp escaped you. Automatically you started to grind against him, feeling his erection through his briefs against your lower stomach. While his lips teased your sensitive neck, his hands started to tug impatiently on your dress, nearly ripping it off.

“Wait” you panted breathlessly and tried to find the zipper. John growled impatiently and then ripped the dress off unceremoniously. You sucked in a suprised breath and goodbumps formed on your body which was now only covered with your bra and panties. Your chest rose and fell quickly and you were practically shaking out of desire.

“I need you” your voice was breathless and John chuckled deeply. Gently but determined he pushed you further into the sheets and imediatly his body was on top of yours. You closed your eyes as his large hands roamed over your body and opened your bra. Quicky you shrug it off and a loud moan escapes you as Johns mouth found your sensitive nipple, sucking and biting gently.

“John” you whimper and arch your back. He looks up at your face and a smirk lays across his lips. As he continues, his hands wander lower on your body, lightly touching your ribs and stomach. After what feels like

an eternity, he hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties.

“Lift your hips for me” he orders quietly. You obey immediately, your heart beating like crazy. He quicky pulled your panties off and then you felt his fingers at your entrance.

“So wet for me already” he groaned and started to part your folds with his index. You gasped and wrapped your arms around his neck

“John please” you whined . He chuckled and started to apply light pressure on your clit, which caused you to squirm and move against him. Quickly his touch became more urgent and in mere seconds he had you moaning loudly as he curled his fingers against your G-spot.

“That’s a good girl”

He growled and you arched your back.

“I’m close” your voice wasn’t more than a whimper.

“Then cum for me”

That was all it took for you to loose control. With a loud unfiltered moan you came, wrapping your arms tightly around John as the waves of your orgasm hit you. He continued to finger you lightly, but then pulled back. Visibly exhausted you tried to catch your breath. Your whole body felt heavy and you were ready to fall asleep.

“I’m not done with you little one” John warned. Then he slowly thrusted inside you. You immediately noticed his size, which was pretty much perfect. Big enough to fill you completely, but not big enough to make it painful. You hummed in pleasure and after a bit John started to thrust slowly.

“Just to make it clear, I will not be gentle. This is only the beginning ”

He whispered in your ear and lightly bit your earlobe.

“I wouldn’t have expected anything less” you murmured back and teasingly clenched your walls around him, which caused him to groan. Without a warning he grabbed your wrists and pinned them over your head. His dark eyes met yours and a nearly cruel smile laid on his lips. As he started to move his hips again, his trusts were more forceful, driving the headboard against the wall and hitting your G-spot eveytime

“More, I need more” you begged weakly.

“As you wish” he then pulled out and just as you wanted to complain, he flipped you around and pulled you on all fours. Then he thrusted into you from behind in one swift motion. A suprised scream left your throat. This time John didn’t hold back anything. Roughly he grabbed your hips and took you in the most primal way. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the hotel room and you grabbed the sheets underneath you for support.

“Yes! John” your voice was high pitched and shortly you thought about how probably every other person on the floor could hear you.

“That’s it, good girl. Scream for me” Johns hand found its way around your throat and gently grabbed it, not hurting you but instead showing you that he was in control. His body was draped over yours and you could feel his breath on your neck. His thrusts got more impatient and rougher, which you didn’t even knew was possible. The hand which was wrapped around your throat wanders lower, pinching your nipples and then finding your sensitive clit.

“John” you moaned as he started to circle it.

He only continued and the combination of this cock hitting all the right spots and his finger rubbing your clit finally send you over the edge.

With a loud moan you come, gripping the sheets and whimpering. You heard John chuckle in your ear, he wasn’t slowing down his thrusts and you were close to overstimulation.

“Please…” you whimpered as he continued to fuck your body. He held your hips up and you couldn’t really do much expect take it, your head buried in the pillows and moaning weakly.

“Take it” he growled and continued. You clenched weakly around his cock. This thrusts got quicker and he was panting, then he came too. A deep groan left his throat and you felt him rest his forehead against your back while he was twitching inside of you. After his orgasm was over he took a deep breath and slowly pulled out. As soon as he wasn’t holding your hips anymore you collapsed on the bed. Your whole body felt heavy and you knew that you would be sore tomorrow. As you felt Johns hand on your thigh you wanted to protest, you couldn’t take anymore.

“It’s ok.let me clean you” he whispered and you nodded and slowly opened your legs and allowed him to wipe the rests of his cum away with a wet towel. After tat you lazily rolled onto your other side, facing John.

“Hey” you said awkwardly

“Hey” he repeated your words and then opened his arms invitingly, allowing you to cuddle against his muscular chest.

“You did well” he praised you quietly.

A quiet giggle escaped you.

“I’m honestly pretty sure that everyone in this hotel heard us, I’m not sure if Winston wants me to play here again”

“Well that would be a shame, I loved hearing you play”

Johns voice was laced with amusement.

,,I could give you a private concert”

,,Hmmm. How about my place after dinner?”

,,Sounds good”

[abominable-space-they]

Another Au centered around music & punk Steve(sorta) bc of Steddie twt talking abt switching it up to celebrity Steve & just some guy Eddie.

I do love a good trope reversal

Underground Metal Eddie x (pop)punk Steve

Eddie working at a guitar shop that mostly catered to metal & hard rock musicians with a preference for a certain crunchy sound.

Since he was into a very specific niche of gay power & thrash metal, Eddie didn't know Steve was a pop punk star when they meet

He knew who Stevie Dynamite was, of course he did, everyone did. He knew that the guy debuted at 15, was supposed to be some musical genius who could play any instrument.

Eddie remembered the early songs because they were so personal, haunting little folk proto punk songs w/ a glam pop edge about identity, isolation, & loneliness. They weren't his thing but they were better then the usual radio fare.

Three years later after a series of salacious magazine spreads, notoriously explosive deals with several different make-up and high end hair care lines, more scandals then you could count, public partying, public meltdowns, cancelled shows, article after article abt the King of Pop Rock losing his touch, a mediocre album full of bubble gum party till you drop songs, and open speculation abt the nature of his relationship with indie pop darling Birdie (but Eddie knows that's not what ppl think it is. Her music is wall to wall barely subtle sapphic yearning, if there's one thing he knows it's gay subtext)

The rumors got louder & more dramatic until, five years after he rocketed to superstardom Stevie Dynamite publicly sued his label & parents for control of his image & brand.

He won

Then he quietly disappeared.

Thus was the end of the bigger then life legend of Stevie Dynamite

So when Steve Harrington walked into the guitar store on some lazy Monday afternoon while Eddie was sitting behind the counter working on a song in his downtime. He had no idea who Steve was.

When the unknown hot guy in a Violent Femmes hoodie & a plain black beanie struck up a conversation about Eddie's lyrics he thought Steve was just another life long grind musician wanting to talk shop

When the guy introduced himself as Steve, Eddie didn't think anything in particular about it

When Steve seemed to be flirting a little Eddie chalked it up to the guy wanting a discount on whatever he was in to buy.

When he dragged Stevie Dynamite viscously for being an absolute fake from top to bottom, when one of his newer songs came on the shop radio, Eddie laughed and agreed.

When Steve asked Eddie for help choosing a guitar with a very particular pensive but angry victorious sound he was happy to help (Steve paid full price & if he was annoyed he didn't show it)

When the guy came in again next monday for a new amp, and the Monday after that for new strings Eddie was confused but happy to see him

When Steve came in the Monday after that asking for help with the writing of a song, a service he would be happy to pay for, Eddie said yes against his better judgement. He knew he was well and truly fucked by the happy burbling in his stomach at the thought of creating music with this incredibly hot man.

When they spent six months of Mondays holed up in the break room working on lyrics, Eddie tried not to examine what it meant.

And when Steve abruptly didn't come by one Monday, Eddie had no idea what the hell happened but he was disappointed.

When one Monday no show, became two, then three, Eddie decided he must've been ghosted, he picked his embarrassingly broken heart up off the floor and kept going, resigned to never knowing what happened with Steve.

In fact Eddie had no idea that Steve Harrington was Stevie Dynamite until the first royalty check came in with a $ number so high, Eddie thought he probably died without realizing it. He'd never even dreamed of holding that much money in his hand at one time.

The check was from Dynamite Records?!?!?! Stevie Dynamite's personal label?!?!

Through a haze Eddie remembered that a a few weeks ago Stevie Dynamite had released his first post corporate divorce album to a tidal wave of media fanfare and critical acclaim. Everyone who had an opinion about music swore the real Stevie Dynamite was back on top again. Eddie barely noticed it, he'd been to busy not caring that Steve ghosted him to pay attention to yet another meaningless corporate shill telling him to dance all night

He called the corporate number on the check

"Dynamite Records, Jonathan Byers speaking, how may I help you?"

"uhh yeah man, I think there's been some sort of mix up. I uhh-, Look my name is Eddie Munson & as much as I would love to keep this check. It couldn't possibly be for me and I really don't want to get sent to prison for check fraud so maybe someone should come and get it or something."

The man, on the either end of the line immediately relaxed into a more casual manner.

"Eddie hey man, I've heard so much about you. It's definitely not a mistake, he wanted you to have credit since you guys wrote the songs together."

"uhh not to seem totally clueless or whatever Mr Byers, but umm He who?"

"Jonathan is actually totally fine, we're all family here right? Stevie Dynamite of course"

"Ok, but how in the world does Stevie Dynamite know me & why would he want me to get writing royalties on his new songs?"

"... Fuck...He still hasn't told you has he?"

"told me what?"

Jonathan sighed a kindly exasperated sigh on the other end of the line.

"Eddie have you looked at the new Stevie Dynamite album?"

"No-, I uhh no offense or anything it's just glam rock pop punk isn't really my thing."

"it's fine, it's not mine either-, hmm well are you at work? No of course you are that's where we sent the check. He didn't know your home address. You know, I should've known he didn't tell you now that I think about it. Why don't you go take a peek, pay specifical attention to the dedication. I'll wait here."

Eddie heard some rustling as Jonathan leaned back, talking to someone else apparently.

"Argyle, babe, you wouldn't believe this. He still hasn't told Eddie."

Even further away he heard a good natured huff of laughter.

"Bro? No shit. Man... Babe, your ex is so beautifully weird. I wish I found out a pop star was in love with me w/ a fat check and an album full of love songs. Stevie boy has style at least... wanna hit this?"

What the hell was that all about? If they were getting high he might as well just go look at the album right? Right. No time like the present.

Eddie didn't know why he was so nervous

The album cover wasn't anything remarkable, tattoo flash art of a nail bat, a weird flower full of serrated teeth, and a guitar. It was called "Stevie Dynamite: Love, Death, and a Baseball Bat Named Baby"

Inside there was a lot of concept photography, Stevie Dynamite after a show, make-up smeared, staring into a mirror with empty eyes. Each page of lyrics had a new picture of Stevie with some of the glamorous accoutrements removed staring at himself in the mirror, first he took off his shiny rock and roll lace top, then he replaced his leather pants with sweats, the next he had on an old beat up violent femmes hoodie, lastly he took off all the flashy metallic glam rock make up.

The last picture was just Stevie Dynamite, No, Steve Harrington, his Steve Harrington fresh faced, staring into the camera with a note superimposed, written in loopy feminine handwriting, the dedication.

'To Eddie who's inspired me since the day I met him, who never gave a damn about Stevie Dynamite'a fame or reputation, who was kind to me because that's just who he is.

To Eddie who helped me find my love of music again, reminded me why I was here in the first place, and helped me write the most sincere and meaningful songs I ever have.

To the Eddie I was so afraid of losing to the gossip machine I couldn't quite tell the truth.

All those dumb love songs that you were always teasing me about writing were for you Eddie. No matter what, you deserve to know that. I'm sorry, I hope you can forgive me.

I love you,

Stevie Dynamite

(but you can still call me Steve if you want to)'

Eddie felt faint again. He picked the phone back up

"What the fuck Jonathan?"

"Yeah, man what the fuck. But that's our boy Stevie, passionate, loyal to death and back, more than a little impulsive, and terrified of his feelings. Once he decides he loves you, he's impossible to shake. I'm so sorry he sprang this on you like this man, but Argyle's almost done getting him ready. I'll send him your way when we're done ok?"

Eddie wasn't sure what he was agreeing to but he still agreed.

20 minutes later a leather clad pop rock god, slouched in, looked around from behind his dark sunglasses with disinterested affected distance, pushed those sunglasses up onto his head and magically transmogrified into Steve Harrington, the guy he'd been pining over for a month. They both sat in silence, each afraid to go first. Finally Steve cleared his throat and broke the oppressive quiet

"I'm sorry I stopped coming by, I was so afraid that once you knew you'd only see Stevie, not me anymore. I couldn't bear losing another person I loved to him. God he sucks."

"But... you're Stevie Dynamite right? I haven't hallucinated all this, right?

"No no, you definitely didn't. I mean, yeah technically I'm him, but he's still the worst. I kinda hate him"

"uhhh...."

"I know it's weird"

"No I get it-, I think,-, trapped in reputations of our own making and all-, but uhhh... You love me?"

"Yeah Eddie of course! How could I do anything else but love you? Didn't you listen to the album?"

"uhh-, well-, No? Glam Rock Pop Punk just isn't my thing"

To Eddie's surprise, Steve broke out in a radiant smile.

"Of course you didn't, what was I thinking? All that worry for nothing. I'm so-... Hey I'm about to go play a private vip show to celebrate the album's success, you want to come? I promise I'll explain everything-, No pressure though!"

Eddie still wasn't sure exactly what he was agreeing to, but couldn't even feel to bad about it when Steve blushed, radiant, bigger then life, like a rock god, as he pulled Eddie out the door.

Right then and there Eddie made a pact with himself to keep saying yes to Steve as long as Steve bothered to ask. He was to precious not to.