Ok but dateables who finally experience the soft moments with you for the first time :(((( second route au, but can be separated
According to Skylar, the dateables can experience emotions like hope, excitement, and even loveâ mimicking what a human feels. However. This also means they can experience anxiety, anger, fear⌠and heartbreak.
When the og!homeowner discovered the dateviators, they acted normal. Then something flipped. Their words became sharp as staggers. Actions becoming rough and aggressive, resulting in a few dateables being damaged. The og!homeowner toyed with them, only to discard their feelings and leave in the end.
Nevertheless, you moved in as the new homeowner. The dateables expected the same from you. Instead, theyâre met with soft touches and gentle murmurs against their skin. It didnât take long to realize youâre nothing like the og!homeowner.
Rainey isnât dancing alone anymore. Her broken record has driven many people away. Now her usual empty hands are intertwined with yours, as the both of you spin around the kitchen. You giggle. Rainey laughs. She wonders if human hands are always this warm.
Volt was hard to crack. He can tell you knew of his facade from the start, but couldnât pinpoint where the trust issues stem from. He was content with that. But heâs so tired. So when Volt sits next to you in the Breaker Box, spilling sensitive informationâ secrets that only he and his other half are aware ofâ everything clicked into place. The man hears you clear your throat.
âMaybe Eddie doesnât need protector,â
Volt can feel the static in the air growing, his skin beginning to burn a neon blue. He scoffs.
âMaybe he just needs Volt.â
He pauses. You look at him, not in irritation nor fear of his inhumane form. One that⌠he canât read. Instead, he watches as you wordlessly tuck a loose strand of electric hair behind his ear, softly smiling. When you leave, Volt feels like crumbling. Why canât you just hate himâŚ?
Betty is usually the one who comforts others. Itâs quite literally in her nature. Yet here she is, head resting peacefully in your lap after your insistence. The feeling is⌠odd. You stroke her cheek with such gentleness. She hopeless to resist nuzzling into your hand, releasing a sigh. Oh how you send her heart racing.
Amir is well known for his passion, and most importantly, seeing beauty in whatâs reflected. Heâs not one to shy away easily. Even so, mirrors shatter with enough effort. You seemed to take it as a challenge though, bringing his spark back over a⌠familiar method: compliments.
âI love the way you pay attention to others.â
âYour smile is so contagious.â
âYouâre beautiful. Truly.â
Adding a kiss to his cheek every compliment too? You have him swooning. Amir may have shyed away a few times. Just a little, of course.
Eddie serves all kinds of drinks in the Breaker Box. Wine, shots, etc. He noticed you always order a Whiskey Sour every time, but only once. No refills. He refuses to admit his brewing curiosity. Until you answer it without even knowing, waving off his mandatory second round of drinks. As he eyes your empty glass, you realize, and reassure him it tasted good. However, he sees the way you lick your lips, almost trying to rid of the flavor. The man calls you out on it, and you blink.
âHuh? Oh, I guess yeah. Iâm not the biggest fan of whiskey.â
Eddie further asks why you drink it then, a self-deprecating joke on the tip of his tongue.
âBecause you like it.â
You said, a hint of confusion in your face. Like your answer was an obvious fact. Even as the Breaker Box shuts down for the night, he allows himself to wonder if youâve done the same to other objects. Doing something only because the another likes it. Eddie swallows. The thought shouldnât shake him this much.
Beau didnât expect you to be so interested in her adventures. She gets a little too excited, high on energy. Paired with your curiosity and enthusiasm, the woman practically vibrates in her place, exploring dark spaces and caverns alongside you. In the middle of a quick break, which consisted of the two of you sitting down, she yaps about the thrill of this escapadeâ you giggle. She pauses, suddenly self-conscious of her words.
âWhat a treasure you are,â
Turning, she flushes at the realization on why youâre so quiet. Itâs because your attention is all on her. So when you tilt your head, asking her to continue, Beau tears her gaze away from you. She tries her best to continue⌠through stuttering.
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Date Everything characters with a player who has selective mutism Part 7
It's been a while, sorry for the hiatus, I didn't forget about this blog, promise! Writers block is a heck of a thing, but I'm back now and glad of the reminder of how comforting writing this series is. So Here! Eat up!
Coaches you on meeting new people and holding conversations, it's kind of his forte after all.
Incredibly patient, not even expecting you to speak at first. He takes his time with you, slowly coaxing you into using your voice more.
Hey, you're a great listener! That's an excellent quality to have. Now you just gotta build the courage to put yourself out there. Get involved.
No judgement, only a warm smile and smooth encouragement as you gradually grow your confidence (around him at least).
Doesn't rush you into learning pick up tactics: he can see that you're initially more focused on making friends. Perfect! He loves that!
So much constructive feedback and praise at the end of every conversation you have with him. Whether you speak out loud or use some other form of communication, he'll be pleased either way (communication is communication)
Genuinely proud and excited when you ask him questions, keeping the conversation flowing on your own. It means a lot to him that you're taking his advice to heart and pushing yourself to improve.
He loves deep and introspective conversation. So when you finally open up to him about why you're so quiet, he feels he's unlocked something meaningful.
You're met with acceptance and a deep respect for the fact that you aren't just settling in the silence, you're actively trying to overcome it.
He's also honored that you chose to turn to him for guidance. Although there is a part of him that feels like a hypocrite. After giving so much advice about connecting with others, it took this for him to realize he'd been too distracted trying to impress you to actually find out anything about who you are inside.
After that, he dedicates himself to truly getting to know you beyond the barriers you'd put up.
When you interact with others around the house he might not always speak for you (unless you really don't feel up to it), but he will cheer you on from the sidelines.
He believes in you and knows that you won't improve if someone else does the work for you.
Fantina
Oh. My. God. You have no idea how much it means to have your silence directed towards her!
Don't worry about explaining yourself, she already knows everything. You don't need to be anxious around her, promise.
Look, she even has a special personalized notepad in preparation for this exact scenario. It's your favorite color and everything! She would be honored if you'd use it to talk to her. If you do it becomes her prized possession. (And don't even get me started on what happens if you actually speak to her).
Over time her obsessiveness becomes clear and you decide it's time to set boundaries.
Easier said than done. Confrontation is one of your worst nightmares and your inability to speak up for yourself has already let this go on for too long.
You write her a letter expressing your concerns and hand it to her at the end of a fan club meeting.
At first she's conflicted. She's been nothing but accommodating and understanding of you, are you really taking that for granted?
Conversely, she knows how scary things like this can be for you and recognizes the courage it took for you to approach her with your honest feelings.
She decides to take your words into consideration.
It takes some time, and a lot of introspection on both sides, but eventually you find a happy medium for your relationship.
You encourage her to speak to you about herself; you've always preferred listening over talking.
She discovers a whole new appreciation for you as a real person and not just a concept of one.
Becomes your cheerleader in all social situations, you've never known support like that which she offers.
She celebrates you at the end of every conversation. Every word you say is an achievement in her eyes.
And you make sure to give her due praise too, after all you couldn't do it without her by your side.
Rainey
Don't worry your sweet little head about a thing. Just listen to the music play, feel the rhythm in your bones and let your body do the talking.
And don't be scared about looking silly either: it's just you two here, no ones watching. Besides, silly is her favorite flavor. A little bit of silly never hurt nobody.
She's a bit of a chatterbox and appreciates having someone who'll listen without judgement.
Loves the way you giggle when she drags you up to dance with her. That little hint of your voice makes her feel warm inside.
There's a lack of judgement in your relationship that makes everything easier when you're together.
Whether you feel like speaking, writing, or just quietly listening, your presence is always welcome.
The fact that you stick around despite her loose screws, and despite your own mental struggles means a lot. You show her understanding, and offer assistance without being patronizing or treating her like she's broken. She wants to do the same for you.
Builds you up whenever you speak to her, and others. You know you'll always have someone on your side as long as she's around.
She's a bit protective of you, having experienced how judgmental others can be when someone's different from them.
Not afraid to speak up for you if something makes you uncomfortable, and has no qualms removing you from situations if she notices you getting overwhelmed.
You make her feel steady, even if you get her heart racing, and that's an incredibly valuable thing.
Bathsheba
She strikes me as the type of extrovert who adopts introverts. Maybe at first it's to boost her ego, but over time she develops a genuine fondness for you.
Treats you a bit like a project (it's very much an Elphaba/Glinda situation).
It takes her a while to understand how you're able to have such an impact on everyone around the house without even talking. How does one command attention and adoration without raising their voice?
She makes it seem that she's the one helping you get out there and make friends, when really it's the other way around. She's just using your own advice to kickstart interactions and then pulling you into the fray.
Introduces you to all of her new 'friends' and gets a real kick out of it when you actually speak up around them. She believes it's all thanks to her; you don't have it in you to tell her you know all these people/objects already.
Loves the sound of her own voice, which makes her another excellent addition to the 'yapper x listener dynamic' club.
She lives for gossip, even more so when she's the one who gets to share it. Especially to such an attentive listener. She has an abundance of opinions that just have to be heard, so your audience is valuable.
If you ever start feeling overwhelmed and need to wind down away from everyone else, there's no better escape than a warm bath with your favorite princess. She's a big advocate for self care, so she will pamper you like royalty (as long as you return the favor).
Has a hard time shutting up, and understands that you might need to be alone on occasion. She'll pout about it, but will give you space when you ask. But she will expect double the attention next time you meet.
Phoenicia
Donât worry about it honey, Phoeniciaâs got your back.
She's a chatterbox and appreciates an active listener who doesn't interrupt, and hey, talking is overrated anyway! Texting is a far superior way of chatting.
Makes you feel so secure and taken care of.
Has no shortage of self improvement and mental heath advice, and is always happy to help out a friend in need. And the way she smiles at you, without judgement or expectation makes her feel super approachable.
Coaches you in self confidence and gets genuinely excited when she sees you actively put her advice into practice.
Loves the way you flush when you try to respond to her out loud, she finds you adorable and is beyond happy that you feel comfortable enough to speak to her.
Phoenicia's a social butterfly so there's no doubt she will go out of her way to help you make friends.
When she overheats her snappiness might rattle you a little bit, but once she's better she'll apologize and make sure you know she wasn't mad at you. She understands that you might need reassurance in these situations and never wants you to feel insecure around her.
Once you help her realize it's okay to take a break from the screen and focus on herself every once in a while, she discovers an appreciation for just sitting in silence with you and enjoying the moment.
You find peace in each others company during these moments, who knew you'd be so well suited to each other?
Prissy
She's so sweet, it doesn't matter to her at all.
To her, you are wonderful: you listen to her, you smile at her, you keep coming back to help her achieve her dream, and you're just so nice! Why would it matter to her that you don't speak? Her little bird friend doesn't speak and they're great!
In all honesty, she really appreciates your company. It gets pretty lonely in the attic, and even if you don't vocalize it at first, your actions show how deeply you believe in her (she's needed that more than she cares to admit).
Once she becomes real, she takes it upon herself to help you blossom the way she has.
Every time you speak to her she hugs you like it's the first time: she can't help it. Hearing your voice is such a gift!
As you do grow more comfortable speaking around her, it never gets less special. She's been with you through every step of your journey, just as you were for her, and she's witnessed your growth; that's something she will never take for granted.
Knows all the coziest spots in the house, where the sun hits just right, for when you need some quiet time.
She radiates tranquility, so you never feel unsafe with her by your side.
Skips
He gets it. Trust me, he does.
Though you'd never guess it from your initial meeting with xxXShadowl0rd420Xxx.
He has a talent for twisting things into being badass and edgy, and your quietness is no exception. It fits his idea of a dark ally perfectly - mysterious (and rather cute if you don't mind him saying).
If you prefer to speak through writing he's all for it, as long as you don't mind writing in the dark...
It's even more fun if you use 'the hanged man' to communicate.
It becomes a fun routine: him asking questions and then guessing for your answer. Then him figuring out your question and answering with enthusiasm.
He'll admit, the way you smile when he gets it right is frankly adorable, and the cheeky way you giggle when he is mistaken makes a part of him want to get it wrong on purpose (he won't though, can't risk that winning streak).
You find it's so much easier to talk when it's gamified. Soon enough you find yourself cracking jokes, even flirting in those rarer, bolder moments.
Spending time with him in the shadows is a welcome respite from the commotion that's overtaken your life ever since receiving the dateviators. And while his company is intimidating at first glance, you come to find him oddly charming.
When he reveals his true self, it takes a second for you to adjust. It's almost like meeting a new person, and you feel anxious all over again.
He feels guilty. Who wouldn't? You already have enough trouble interacting with and trusting others without a massive curveball like this shaking things up.
But you meet his apologies with a shake of the head and a soft reassurance that you still like him. Telling him that while you were helping him gain his armaments, it felt a bit like he was doing the same for you.
You connect deeply over your shared feelings of loneliness.
When he invites you to become a shadow with him the offer is tempting, after all shadows don't have the social pressures humans do.
And then it doesn't work... and then he gets frustrated.
You feel your heart break, and there's nothing you can say or do before he shuts you out.
But you can't help but understand his reaction: he's scared and alone, just like you've been for so long.
So you build up your courage and return, and for the first time since meeting you have a fully vocal conversation.
It feels good for both of you to clear the air and start again. By the end of the conversation he's awestruck - it kind of hits him all at once how significant that conversation was (he's thankful that you can't see the tears in his eyes through the dark).
From then on, the two of you are like two peas in a pod. You're each others' safe person.
When you're overstimulated there's always a space in the shadows for you to hide from the world. And a loving companion there to sit by your side until he's sure you feel better.
I've been gone a while, but my love for these characters still lives on. Hopefully the wait between now and part 8 won't be so long. So far, the characters I intend to write for next are: Tony, Lady Memoria, and Kopi. If you have any requests for characters I haven't done yet, please let me know. xxx
I have a Date Everything fic request! Reader (any gender) is making their rounds around the house, but whenever they talk to one of the lipstick-wearing ladies (Miranda, Sophia, Rainey, Phoenicia, Fantina, etc) they pepper Reader with lipstick kisses, which flusters reader every time it happens. At the end of the day, Reader learns Barry asked them to test some new lipsticks he got. Reader is puts things together and thanks Barry for the best day of their life.
Creators note đ - Bring in my girls đŠ sorry for not using all the girls who wear lipstick i just feel like it would all be to much 𼲠+ learning about diffrent places on the face lol + this may be a little long đ
Asked đ¤ - Anon!
Summary - you've just been hanging out around the house lately, relaxing, reading, etc, but one thing you couldnt figure out all day was how some of the girls (Miranda, Sophia, Rainey, Phoenicia, Fantina, Keyes, Prissy,) have been giving you small kisses throughout the day and you loved each and every one of those kisses.
Cw - Slight guilt tripping with Fantina + Fantina being Fantina lol, Mention of throw up, sophia đ,
word counter - 2,739
Date Everything x GN!Reader - fluff!
You honestly had a great day,
Miranda
Letâs start from the beginning. You woke up in a terrific mood, like nothing could get in your way. You walked down the stairs and headed straight into the kitchen, humming to yourself, you grabbed a piece of toast from the bread compartment and walked towards Miranda, âOoo someone has a pep in their step eh?â She pointed out as she held the toast in her hands, warming up the bread as she smiled at you,
âOh yeah, I was just excited to start the day, i suppose!â You said while flashing a grin, âOh yeah? What are you going to do today, hm?â she said as she tilted her head, her cheeks slightly pink as her eyes crinkled from smiling, âOh you know, maybe organize the attic, check up on everyone else,â You said as you shrugged as you leaned against the counter as you speak to her, âSounds like a busy day,â she mumbled as she grabbed a butter knife, scooping some butter and sliding across the piece of toast, she then hands you the now perfectly toasted piece of toast, âYknow, I could make your day better,â she stated matter of factly, âOh yeah?â You said intriguingly as you bit into the toast,
âJust close your eyes, okay?â She said with a mischievous look on her face. in return, you nodded and closed your eyes. You honestly didnât know what to expect, but a soft gentle kiss on the left infraorbital cheek wasn't what you expected, causing you to open your eyes to see Miranda pull away laughing.
âOh my gosh, look at your face! Youâre so red! Hahaha!â She said as she had her eyes closed, you felt your face heating up, you look at your reflection in the reflection of the fridge beside you, seeing a small smudge of red on your cheek, âHehe⌠That⌠Caught me off guard,â you huffed out a laugh as you take another bite out of the toast as you reached to touch lipstick smudge on your left cheek, âi should kiss you more often, that color looks so good on you,â she said as she grabbed her guitar, tuning it as you continue to blush, âT-Thank you for the kiss Miranda⌠ill see you laterâŚâ you mumbled as you walked away, finishing the piece of toast as you walked, âOkay then, see you soon!â She said as she began to sing to herself as she strung her guitar.
âŚ
Phoenicia
As you leave the kitchen, you decided to just go ahead and check up on Phoenicia. You take your phone out of your pocket and open it, meeting Phoeniciaâs smiling face, âGood morning (Y/N)! Are you having a good morning so far?â She asked as she pulled you into a side hug, smelling the buttery toast from your breath, âAlready ate?â She asked as she pulled away with a small smile. âYeah, just decided to go basic and have a piece of toast,â you said with a casual smile as you placed your hands on your hip, âHonestly, you shouldâve seen this viral açai yogurt bowl, it had basically everything on it,â she gushed as she tries to find the video, she eventually pulls it up and shows you the supposed viral yogurt bowl,
âThat does look goodâŚâ you muttered, âMhm, you should definitely try and make it sometime,â she said as she closed the tab, âYou should save me a bite,â she said with a small smile. âFor you, Phoenicia, I would make any viral food trend for you to try,â you said causally as you placed your hands in your pockets, seeing Phoeniciaâs face glow with happiness, âOoo! You are too cute!â she said as she kissed the right zygomatic cheek area, leaving a darker purple smudge, way darker than her usual lipstick. She pulled away with a big smile on her face,
Until she suddenly gasped in shock. âI almost forgot to tell you the latest gossip!â She said as she placed her hand on her own cheek as her other hand opened more tabs to find some drama to unfold, but you were still distracted from the kiss, âTwo kisses in one day? Damn⌠i must be looking good or somethingâŚâ you thought as you smiled at the feeling of lipstick on your face as Phoenicia snaps you out of it, telling you about the latest drama.
âŚ
Rainey
After your talk with Phoenicia, you decided to do some cleaning around the house, so you got a rag from the laundry room and put it under some water, squeezing the access water, as you did, you noticed the kiss marks on your face, âHm I should wash this off laterâŚâ you muttered as your wet hand smudges Phoeniciaâs lipstick stain, staring down at your now stained fingers, you shrug âEh Iâll wash this off later,â you thought as you walk in the dining room, âMaybe I should put on some music?â You thought once again with a smile as you placed the wet rag on the table, bending down to choose a record until you hear Raineyâs voice â(Y/N)! Oh, i haven't seen you in days! How you been sugar?â She asked as she looked down at you as you picked out a record, âWell, i thought while i clean i should put a little music on,â you said as you placed the record in the record player,
âA little pep in your step, huh? Always a pleasure!â she says as she interlocked her hands beside her face. The music began to play, âAh! One of my favorites!â She exclaimed as she began to dance. You chuckled as you joined her. She smiled as you danced along beside her. She took your hands and spun you with her as your hands were interlocked. âYou dance so well, Baby!â She said as you spun her, âIâve learned from the best after all!â You said as you smiled as you danced. Rainey pulled you in as the song was coming to an end. She chuckled as she leaned in and placed a kiss on the tip of your nose, leaving a small ruby-red-coloured smudge on your nose. You become flustered once again, already feeling your face become warmer. The kiss was quick but gentle. âAlright sugar, Iâll let you get back to cleaning! Iâm just gonna keep on dancing!â She said as she rocked her hips from side to side, you smiled as you grabbed the wet rag and left the dining room as the next song began to play.
âŚ
Keyes
You walked into the next room over, and you saw Keyes in her seat, her fingers tracing the keys on the piano. You slowly sat beside her, causing her to be slightly startled, âOh⌠Hello Maestro, doing some cleaning, i assume?â She said as she noticed the rag in your hand, âYeah, to get rid of some dirt and dust⌠Would you like me to wipe off the dust?â You said as you lift the soggy rag, âGo ahead maestro, just be carefulâŚâ she muttered as she moved along the keys, going along with Raineyâs music playing, you got up from the seat as you wipe away the dust, nodding your head as you listened calmly to Keyes piano play,
You let her focus on her playing as you clean up the grand piano, she looked so pretty as the light hit her as she concentrated on the piano. âYou know⌠youâre so talented, KeyesâŚâ You said as you left the room to go fetch a dry rag to dry off the droplets of water. âThank you, maestro, you have good taste in my playing,â she said slightly loud with a gentle smile on her face as you returned to the room with a dry rag and dry the top of the piano, âWell, I must since I canât be away from your playing,â you said as you sat back down beside Keyes, her fingers danced across the keys as she had a small smile on her face, after she finished she turned her face towards you, she had a gentle look on her face, âYou are to kind maestro⌠im going to continue practicing, don't let me continue to distract you,â she said as she scooted closer to you and leaves a small kiss on the right of side your temple, âNow, run along maestro,â she said as she turned back to the piano and continued to play, you nodded and get up from your seat, leaving Keyes to enjoy her music.
âŚ
Fantina
You went upstairs and began cleaning around the second floor (or first floor, whatever you wanna to call it), cleaning up all the dirty clothes on the floor, cleaning the windows, cleaning out the junk drawer, etc. After about an hour of cleaning, you began to feel hot as you wipe your forehead, removing small bits of sweat, you sighed as you walk into the small gym area, already hearing Fantinaâs gasp,
âOH. MY. GOSH! Itâs you! I havenât seen you in forever!â She squealed as she saw you coming towards her, feeling the coldness radiating from her. You sighed in relief from the sudden coldness, âItâs nice to see you to Fantina, how have you been?â You said as you enjoyed the coolness from her fan, âIâm so glad you asked! Iâve been so lonesome since you haven't been here lately⌠I miss you sometimes, you know,â she said with a saddened tone as she crossed her arms with her mouth in a straight line. âIâm sorry, Fantina, truly, I try to remember to see you but I sometimes forget, which isn't an excuse,â you said as you raised your hands in defence, Fantina smiled, causing her eyes to crinkle as she pulled you into a hug, squeezing you in a tight embrace, âYou have no idea how much that mean to me!â She said as she laid her face on your chest, feeling her sniff deeply, âAre⌠you smelling me?â You asked as you looked down at her, âSorry! You just smell so good right now,â she said as she chuckled and kissed you on your left mandibular, causing you to blink as she left a small kiss, âI should get back to cleaning Fantina,â you said as you patted her shoulder, âAw⌠Okay⌠Please come back soon,â she begged as you walked off, âI promise Fantina, ill be back soon,â you said as you closed the door with a smile.
âŚ
Prissy
As you left, you noticed the time and decided to grab yourself some dinner from downstairs. You were in the kitchen and grabbed some of your (Fav meal) and decided to also grab a cup of water. You finish your snack and just take up the glass of water with you upstairs while cleaning up the attic. You walked back upstairs and opened the attic door. Meeting Prissyâs face as you opened the door, he smiled was wide, and her eyes were crinkled due to her smile.
âWell hello Prissy, whatâs with the look on your face, if you mind me asking?â You asked as you held the cup to your chest, âNoticed anything different?â She asked as she did a little spin, her leafs slightly bouncing each spin she did, âUh⌠Youâre shinier?â You said like it was a question, she stopped spinning and sighed, âAw man⌠Nothingâs different?â She said as she slightly pouts, her arms crossed as she looked down at the dirty wooden floor, âItâs alright prissy, maybe something will change and if nothing doesn't, thatâs okay too,â you said with a smile as you hand her your cup of water, she takes it with a smile and takes a sip from the glass cup, her lipstick leaving a small print on the edge of the glass, âI know⌠I just would LIKE to be a real plant you know? Enjoy some soil, be watered every day, like an actual plantâŚâ she said as she looked into the glass, smiling to herself,
You place your hand on her shoulder with a genuine look on your face, âHow about we do a routine? Iâll bring you a glass of water and we can just⌠talk more,â you said as you tilted your head, âThat sounds nice, I like that!â She said with that happy smile once more. She began to talk your ear off as you cleaned up around the attic. She eventually finished all the water in the glass cup, and you finished cleaning up as well. After you finished getting cobwebs from the cracks, you stood up, cracking your back as you felt a warm embrace behind you. âThanks for talking with me today, I really appreciate it,â she said with her eyes closed with her head tilted. âYour welcome Prissy,â you said as you turned around, facing her relaxed and tired face, she smiled while meeting your eyes and leaned in and kisses your forehead, she lets go as she yawned, âi think itâs time for me to get some rest⌠See you tomorrow?â She asked with her cheeks flushed, âOf course, sleep well Prissy,â you said as you slowly walked away, to finally get cozy and rest up like Prissy.
âŚ
Sophia
You arrived in your room, the feeling of no more chores left to do in the house was lifted from your back. You let out a content sigh as you walked towards your closet, opening the sliding doors, revealing some neatly folded and prepared on the shelves. You threw on the PJâs and walked up to the bed, slowly sinking into it. Thatâs until you felt something hard in your back pocket of your PJ pants, you reach behind yourself and dug into the pocket, finding 25 cents,
âOh, I should probably give this to SophiaâŚâ You thought to yourself as you held the coin between your thumb and pointer finger, you got back out of the bed, walked out of your room towards the attic door, you open it noticing Sophia smiling mischievously as she made eye contact with you, âHello wretch⌠itâs been awhile hasnât it?,â she said as she takes your cheek, âYes mistress⌠it has⌠I have something to give youâŚâ you said as you blush, you placed your hand on top of hers, âIt better be good wretchâŚâ she said in her seductive voice, you pulled out the coin and raised it to her face, âI found some pocket change I wanted to save, since you keep everything safe mistressâŚâ you said with pink cheeks, âMhm⌠very good my wretchâŚâ she spoke as she takes the coin, âMonique would be thrilled to see you savingâŚâ she said as she squeezes your cheek, âYou look so tired little wretch⌠shouldnât you go to sleep? Hm?â She hummed as she stared into your eyes, âI just wanted to give you the coin my mistressâŚâ you said as you smiled, feeling her warm hands on your face. âVery good wretch⌠now goodnight,â she said as she leaned in, giving you a kiss on the lips, leaving a faint print of black lipstick on your lips, cause you to blush and leave the attic with a stupid smile on your face.
âŚ
Barry Styles
It was the next day, and you completely forget to remove all the lipstick stains off your face. Your pillow was covered in different shades of lipstick. It was like someone ate an entire bag of skittles and threw up all over it, your eyes widened from the stains hoping they could come out, but for now you just walk to the bathroom to see your face, but before you even see Amir, Barry seeâs you first, his mouth was agape from the colors on your face, you couldn't tell what his reaction was, it was like of wanting to laugh but also being in shock, â(Y/N), Those Color's look so good on you, but youâre going to get pimples if you don't remove those!â He exclaimed as he grabs your face, examining the different lip shades on you, but as Barry spoke you slowly zoned out on what he was saying, not because he was right in your face, but you just woke up and you needed a moment to think,
But honestly, what could you say? You're just that kissable. đ
(warning: might be ooc; haven't finished the game, fully; swearing; cringe)
Reader as a punk rock taser w/ and electric guitar and piercings (optional) that manages to win the love of everyone in the house, cause being cringe is free.
I made a whole account for this pls forgive meeee
Home owner got 'em during pre-dateviators, cause they were paranoid af.
You come in w/ energy and vibes and just wanting to make friends, cause the shop you come from was lowkey kinda lonely and shit (everyone was very assuming seeing as you are a taser). You are def a poise char. Your physical features are up to you, but idk. You def have a punk rock/metal aesthetic. I'm thinking a croptop or tank top and very baggy jeans, piercings and nail polish. (all optional, idrgaf)
You seem sorta annoyed at everyone (resting bitch face). from a glance, but you are very eager to interact with other objects, and eager to help them if they really need your help ("Maybe kindness is the real punk rock"). Really tall, cause I'd imagine you being intimidating and whatnot, but like you care a LOT for Homeowner, wondering why they needed to buy a taser for self defense. You are very good at character judgement and reading the atmosphere and react accordingly (ie, you're skeptical about Keith, but no concrete evidence. everyone else seems to love him, so you just treat him with respect, but do not trust most things he says). Except with romance. The player has to literally choose the option that says "I think you're hot and I love you, romantically and it would be punk rock if we banged.", any other option would lead to your friendship route.
You can be a bit awkward with your words, especially in small talk/with strangers, but once you start talking about music or others appearances (not necessarily in a mean way, you love others' aesthetics and how they choose to express themselves. But if you see bad fashion tastes like shoes or something, you just turn around and ignore it, cause it's really your opinion).
Can be seen almost everywhere, cause Homeowner carries them out, comes back inside to just put them anywhere near, but theye are mostly found on Abel/Jerry.
Newest member of the house, so is unfamiliar with a lot of the other objects.
You tried to befriend Dorian, first, cause he's the door.
Was tense around you but you can't blame him, you looked like you wanted to rip him off his hinges (you were trying to gauge wtf to start a convo with him about)
Then you opened your mouth and Dorian immediately thought 'Finally, someone who understands the importance of friendship'
You both want the world to be a safer place, despite the fact that it would render both of you obsolete, and you both take pride in protecting the homeowner, so immediately something in common
He doesn't find your music always enjoyable, but he's willing to listen just for your sake
His reccomendations are scarce. I don't think he's a huge fan of music. The ones he chooses, he probably doesn't even remember their names, just the sound and you have to act like google when someone types in 'daaa da da DUH dah'
Hums along with the more catchy songs, whenever he hears them. Even if you're not near him, he can hear you
Annoyed that he's grown attached and begrudgingly awaits for more of your private concerts
Def besties w/ Fantina cause she loves your impromptu concerts on Abel.
Sometimes, she requests songs and dances with you. Fantina loves you and is always very excited when she hears your songs, definitely made a fan club about you.
You joined her Homeowner's fan club, cause if you could talk to them, you'd want to hype them up, too.
Her obsession lowkey creeps you out, so you kinda have to pull her out of her thoughts, sometimes and ground her
You love her, but sometimes she can be a bit suffocating
Sorta possessive. Always dragging you to 'club meetings' which are just her listening to you sing or play your guitar
You, Curt and Rod vibe.
Met them when you were looking for Fantina and she was making Curt do that dance thing he does when near her, and you immediately thought his moves were unique.
Started convo abt music tastes and boom, you were hooked
Came back, later to look for Fantina, saw them throwing shade at the neighbours and you started laughing, asking them waht they were doing
You're sorta like a natural at throwing shade, but not at fellow objects. Mainly just nosy neighbours that like peeking through the windows a bit too much
That dude with a boombox outside someone's house? No, that's just sad, you feel 2nd hand embarrassment. But what REALLY gets you riled up is that the song is obnoxiously loud. Like, he can do whatever he wants, but why must you hear it?
You take the rule of war happening when shade is thrown at your friend very seriously, though
They love it
You make them laugh so much and the straight face you make when saying the absolute coldest things is just wild
Rod loves giving you recommendations, and you learn a lot of new songs because of him. He sings a bit offtune, but it's the passion that matters and you can't help but sing along with him, too
Curt always covers his ears during these apocalyptic moments of you two singing like you're both tone deaf, but sometimes, you drag him into dancing with you
You find Sprite with them at some point and take her off their hands (electricity buddies) and they tell you bout meeting Mateo
You meet him and seeing you two standing in front of each other from afar would make anyone laugh their asses off
Mateo is very grateful for you, and a bit surprised taht you got Sprite to like you
You and him become unlikely friends (Taser becoming buddy-buddy with Blanket)
Mateo is very "That sounds lovely, dear" to your music. It's not very critical, but supportive. Mateo definitely doesn't actively seek out your taste in music, but when you play it, he can feel the passion you put into it and loves whatever song you play. You play softer songs around his inanimals that make all of them (+ Mateo) go to sleep
The inanimals like dog piling on you the moment you walk in. You always scream bloody murder and Mateo is in sticthes as he gently pries all of them off you
They all gather round in a circle when you're just strumming your guitar and testing the strings. Hell, they sometimes try to touch your guitar (it's sorta shaped like a taser) but you always stop them. Especially the more fabric/flammable/conductor-made ones
Davi likes running off to get headpats from you. Like, he'd run away from Mateo, distract you mid-play, get a headpat, then run back right as Mateo is about to look for him
Some of the other inanimals take his lead. Now, if one of them runs off, you're the first suspect
You love the inanimals and they love you
Mateo loves when you visit and help him with the inanimals
I think you've met Doug a couple more times than you care for, with the Homeowner's paranoia about...something
You downplay his whole thing as being a bummer and just something the human experiences a lot, and you greet him with a smile
He blatantly tells you your songs are awful, so you make it your quest to find him a song that would fit perfectly to him
He finds you annoyingly optimistic, but once he presses a wrong button and sees your snappy side, he lowkey finds it hot
Tries to get you to be angry at him, but you gauged that early on and love not giving him the satisfaction, which he can't tell if he thinks that's even more annoying of you or even more hot
Obviously flirts with you like "Nice ass" every time you turn around. Will not stop whether you like it or not. The more annoyed you are about it, the more he does it
Says shit like "It's funny that humans want to live forever, but the moment they reach 90, a lot of them want to die, already." and you'd make a song out of that, just to spite him.
At some point, the moment he talks, you start groaning
You've tried asking him if he knew specifically what the homeowner was thinking about and he just shrugged and said that he doesn't care
Calls you 'emo'. He knows your aesthetic is punk (your countless presentations on the differences can be boring, but he finds it hilarious that you take that much effort to make him some calling you emo), but he loves messing with you
You and Telly are besties
Fight me on this
The moment you two spoke to each other, nope, you instantly bonded
When you two watch TV, it's things like Tim Burton or dark academia/Victorian type stories. Mostly horror comedy or just comedy. Also watching concerts of your favorite bands. Sometimes you watch the news mainly for Homeowner's safety
You also drag your other friends to watch other channels with you guys, so you sorta give him more company than he's used to
Telly just loves seeing your facial expressions. Likes knowing that you're just as invested in what you're watching as much as he is
Hype man
Whenever you have artblock, you go to him, cause he has just the channels to get your creative juices flowing
You probably don't like Valdiviflix, cause let's be honest, they probably use AI in some aspect (Homeowner literally got replaced by their other branch by AI) so Telly doesn't have to worry about you 'betraying' him
Still, you constantly tell him to stop basing his self worth off of Valdiviflix's success, cause you don't like seeing him sad about yet another show being bought out by Valdiviflix
But, you don't like seeing ads of Valdivi-taser on the TV, and you two go one rants all about it (you're more of pissed off, cause you work fine, thank you very much. who cares if the taser can also double as a charging station?! not you!)
Seeing you and Rainey from afar is very funny. Your aesthics kinda crash in a fun way
You were a bit confused about her very wrong sounding songs and asked her about it. She was very avoidant, cause you're new to the house and don't know much and she'd like to keep it that way
Soon understood that your questions came from a place of genuine concern, but still couldn't come to terms with it
You kinda avoid the topic, now, but you still come along to dance with herand she appreciates it.
She loves telling you about songs you've only vaguely heard of and songs you knew nothing about.
Sometimes comes to visit you and dance to your own songs. She loves them. The louder, the better! Especially if Scandalabra comes around to complain.
Probably gets some more records of your music taste, if she can, to play for you whenever you visit her.
Flirts with you but you just assume it's just how she talks and you start off a bit flustered, but grow accustomed to it (which she's kinda sad about cause you looked so cuted stuttering about for a response!)
And that's it! Yayyyy! I got my idea out!! If you want more, please comment!
âSo! How⌠long have you left this trumpet marinating?â
Sam makes a disgruntled sound and grips the handle of your trumpetâs case with a sigh. Thereâs a sizable layer of dust that Samâs fingertips cut through like a hot knife through butter.
âYâknow, the last time I heard you play, you were really goodâŚâ Her features turn mischievous as she pushes the trumpet case into your arms. âYou should pick this back up.â
âśď¸ â˘áá||á|á||||áâââââá|⢠0:10 ×â°â⤠the musical characters (rainey, keyes, miranda, jean loo, and johnny/reader)
ââ .⌠Youâve played the trumpet since you could move the muscles on your face⌠but your draining, terrible job has sucked the life out of you. Sam, vivacious as always, pours that life back into youâ and drags you out of your hermit shell.
Maybe youâll meet some people along the way⌠those who can speak the blessed language of music.
trumpet player! reader, reader is addressed as a âhermitâ, reader participates in concert band, 919 words, itâs all exposition SORRY HAHA, part one of eight, also posted on ao3
a/n: i love them all so much i hope i got their characters right⌠english isnât my first language be nice & this is just setting things up NO ROMANCE YET. YET
01. stop! in the name of love
×â°â⤠Home, Ville, Day/Month/Year
Sam⌠enlightens you (read: begs you to get into the music scene again.)
âYou were so good in high schoolâŚâ she mumbles, her head buried into a pillow on your couch. Some TV host encroaches on your conversation, a forgettable face from one of the forgettable 5,000 channels youâve got measly access to.
You shake your head, but the idea lingers. You wonder how the trumpet looks now.
Even the idea takes you back to high schoolâ running laps as punishment be damned, you had gotten that marching band solo (and made Sam watch you perform each Friday). The names of the song escape youâ but not the melodies.
Your fingers rhythmically tap against the black trumpet case, mimicking your glory days.
âAuditioning for All-State Symphonic Band was terrifying. Iâm not really sure my heart can handle those palpitations again,â you remark, gaze drifting from Samâs barely exposed eyes to the floor.
The words linger between you two, and Sam knits her eyebrows together before she speaks again.
âWell, why donât you try taking lessons again? The teacher down the street has a concert band made up of all ages. You get inââ she wiggles her fingers enticinglyâ ââ for free if you study under her. Itâs just easy peasy music theory, youâll be fine.â
You think for a moment. Does this really sound better than doomscrolling on your phone or watching cat-playing-piano videos on your computer?
Sam notices your discomfort, laughing slightly.
âLook, I saw them performâ I actually leave my house sometimes. Itâs difficult stuff. Or at least it sounds difficult. Youâll be more focused on the music, not the people there. Promise. I think.â
You frown.
â⌠I ⌠hope?â
×â°â⤠Music Center, Ville, on Day/Month/Year
You push open the glass doors to the music center. The fluorescent lights are dimly lit, flickering like a flame scrambling to find fuel after it had been abandoned by campers.
Abandoned. Like your trumpet, which you had opened and immediately given a deep clean.
You had spent some of your precious 11.4 hours on your computer enlisting in this mysterious womanâs course, who failed to add her name to the roster of pained looking teachersâ all for the low, low price of $25 dollars per rehearsal.
Which you had twice a week.
Whatever, you thought. At the end of each month, thereâd be a concert. Then youâd quit. Youâd scratch Samâs itch, maybe draw some nostalgia from what seemed to be a sad and desolate band, and leave everything behind you.
Itâs not like it would be very hard; you didnât plan on talking to anyone. No ties.
Youâre not beating the hermit allegations, you hear Sam say, like that sick and twisted narrator from the Stanley Parable. You think you want to tell her to shut up (lovingly and with tender care).
âIt should be Door 21,â you mutter under your breath as you peer down at your phone, with posture only rivaled by the most circular of shrimp and gymnasts at the Olympics.
Yikes. When you were in school, your conductor would say things like, âIf I canât walk behind you when youâre sitting on stage, youâre not sitting right!â
You drag your feet down the hallway, passing desaturated doors until you reach Door 21. The two digits are peeling off of the sign that hangs from the tiled ceiling, but thereâs the distinct (and horrible) sound of musicians all warming up at once coming off the door in waves.
You tentatively rest a hand on the silver doorknob, peering inside with the caution of a piece of food around a seagull (if food could even think for itselfâŚ)
Thereâs a woman with a bob and a record-rose in her hair, playing the saxophone with exaggerated and janky movements. Her feet move back and forth, curving on the floor in a dance that you call âthe Charlestonâ.
Beside her, you see a majestic lady playing the piano, substantially more still. Her fingers glide across the keys like a paintbrush glides across a canvas, running through scales with the ease of valve oil on a tromboneâs slide.
Off in the distanceâ or as far of a âdistanceâ a sad, not soundproofed band room can provide âanother woman strums the strings of her guitar. Thereâs a voice warbling amongst the five, distinctly feminine. While her back is turned to you, you know itâs her singing.
And then there are two men, who seem to be⌠well acquainted. The first, a guy with blue tips, taps a beat out on the snare drum in front of him with an expression one could only describe as âfurious, bored, and desperateâ at once. His eyes linger on the huge drum set adjacent to him.
The second has his eyes closed and one arm extended as if heâs singing to a crowd, with odd lyrics mentioning cities in Kansas and bays in California. He sounds familiarâ like a 60s and 70s star that you canât quite put your finger onâŚ
Oh, God, you think, a sudden wave of desperation puppeteering your body. This is either going to be the best or worst experience of my life.
You take a deep breath (maybe the last deep breath youâll take with these five) and push on the door handle.
No connections, you promise to yourself. Only for a month.
Whether or not youâll keep that promise is up to you.
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âSo! How⌠long have you left this trumpet marinating?â
Sam makes a disgruntled sound and grips the handle of your trumpetâs case with a sigh. Thereâs a sizable layer of dust that Samâs fingertips cut through like a hot knife through butter.
âYâknow, the last time I heard you play, you were really goodâŚâ Her features turn mischievous as she pushes the trumpet case into your arms. âYou should pick this back up.â
âśď¸ â˘áá||á|á||||áâââââá|⢠0:10 ×â°â⤠the musical characters (rainey, keyes, miranda, jean loo, and johnny/reader)
ââ .⌠Youâve played the trumpet since you could move the muscles on your face⌠but your draining, terrible job has sucked the life out of you. Sam, vivacious as always, pours that life back into youâ and drags you out of your hermit shell.
trumpet player! reader, awkward/self conscious reader, ~2k words
03. well, i got down on my knees, and i pretend to pray
×â°â⤠Downtown Coolsville, Day/Month/Year
You regret leaving your house the second you feel the gust of warm, summer wind. You regret it even more when you leave your suburban, 'Truman Show' esque neighborhood, and travel to the downtown section of Coolsville.
You don't know why you've done this. Maybe you felt brave when you told (read: bragged) to Sam. Maybe you just wanted to show her how it really felt when Rainey had predetermined your fate at the rehearsal three days ago. Maybe you just wanted to be in control.
But when you step out of your car and face the grocery store, which might as well have 'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here' plastered on the neon sign overhead instead of 'Valdivimart', your stomach twists in on itself and you almost blanch. Nevertheless, you force yourself inside. You're not wasting good gas money.
You look around the aisles, putting things that you know won't spoil fast in the cartâ and hell, why not an apple? You could chew on it in the carâ wait, no. That sounds weird. What are you, a horse?
You round the corner, heading for the wine aisle. You never drink alcoholâ hell, you never usually drink water, but the aisle is most likely empty. It's noon on a work day, so you don't think any young ladies who want their first(?) sip of champagne will be patrolling the aisles, or any forty year old golfer fathers who want to split a drink as they overlook the golfing field.
You're right, for once. A blonde man with crimped hair and an eccentric outfit is the only other person in the aisle, musing over two bottles that look the exact same to you. You let your eyes rove over the hundreds of bottles pressed against the wall, trying not to think about the bottles that are in your cabinet already. Sam and you had tried.
You wheel your cart around, moving up the aisle. There are more voices to your left, chattering eagerlyâ wait.
"Well, isn't that just the sweetest thing you've ever seen?" Oh my god, is that Rainey? "Oh, I don't know. I'm not real... fond of that kind of flavor." And is she with Johnny?
You peek over the aisle divider, visually meeting with a familiar pair of gold-eyeshadow lined eyeballs.
You try to stop the yelp that slips from your mouth as Keyes stares you down from the dairy section, her tall frame allowing her a perfect gaze over the other two. She slightly turns her head away from you, and for a moment you think that she's going to let you pass unnoticedâ by the others, at least.
But of course Miranda taps her on the back and subsequently sees you leering over the edge of the milk cartons like some freak. Of course she opens her mouth to say something. Of course Rainey and Johnny stop their debate over ice cream flavors and look up to see you.
Now you actually blanch. You can only thank your lucky stars that Jean Loo wasn't there, probably banging it out on the drums or something. He didn't seem particularly pleased the last two rehearsals, his voice almost monotonous when he sang a couple days ago. Someone like him would be much better suited to rappingâ why had he still stuck with the band?
"If it isn't [Name]!" Rainey calls, extending her arm in a wave. "Isn't mint chocolate chip ice cream just the berries?" Was she inviting you into the conversation?
You open your mouth, trying to think of a clever response. The only thing that your mind chants is, "RUN!"
Miranda tips her head back, closes her eyes, and lets out a quiet laugh. "This isn't how you greet someone you barely know, Rainey."
Rainey presses her right hand to her heart, dramatically aghast. "Oh, can it, Miranda! Just..." she raises two fingers on her left hand, "two hours ago, you asked them if they'd ever been in love before. That's just an applesauce conversation starter!"
"For my song," Miranda replies. There's a black shopping basket hanging on her wrist, to which she puts a box of butter in. She's switched her eyeshadow today, the color leaning teal instead of the usual sky blue. It looks good on her, but that's probably just because she's pretty.
Keyes raises her head, thumbing at the collar to her shirt. It looks like the keys of a piano--- wow, she must really be dedicated to her instrument... or maybe she's just a band nerd, like you were. Like you are, because you were so simply swayed by Sam's proposal.
"You are all almost as bad as Lux," she mutters, but a smile blossoms on her face. "They're never cooperating with me during concerts, always dimming the lights when my big moment comes. It doesn't help that they're one of two people when we need people to manage tech during concerts. Mac is at least somewhat cooperative.â
"If you really want a big moment," Johnny chimes in, "there's a club near here called the 'Breaker Box' with an open mic policy. Jean Loo and I head down there sometimes, tryin' to bake a biscuit. Well, there's lots o' beatniks, too, bu I'm always happy to receive feedback from anyone."
You begin to back up nervously, nearly veering your cart out the way, before Rainey calls out once more. "[Name], leaving so soon? I was hoping we'd chat."
"If I can find something vaguely entertaining to say," is your response. Rainey laughs, even though you feel utterly mortified. In your chagrin, you miss how the other three break a smile.
She walks over, leaning close to your ear as she guides you by the forearm to their group. "Don't tell anyone I told you this," she whispers, light and saccharine, "but I heard that Miranda's song is for you."
Your eyebrows knit and you whip your head towards her, but before you can conspiratorially ask her where she figured this out, or how she figured this out, or even why she figured this out, you've nearly merged with the group, and would be in earshot of Miranda. She probably has a screw loose, you reason. Why would anyone want to dedicate a song to you?
Keyes peers at her phone, her fingers tapping furiously away messaging someone named 'Hector' who you vaguely remember from college majoring in literature. Rainey leans against her arm, one leg kicked up.
"What have you been up to?" she asks, flashing you a grin. "I've been trying to practice with Keyes on her concerto. It's really the bee's kneesâ you should come see it when she's done writing it!"
Keyes flushes faintly at the mention of her concerto, ducking her head closer to her phone. You notice a significant increase in typos when she continues writing.
What have you been doing over the past two hours? You think that saying 'nothing, just laying in my bed crying' might tank your reputation farther than stocks in 1928. "Practicing, likewise," you choke out. Rainey's smile widens.
"See, I knew you were an astute musician!" She exclaims, patting you on the arm. "Nothing beats talent like passion!"
Passion. It was somewhere within you, dredged up like tea leaves when you signed up for Skylar's music course. When you were in high school, your passion seemed endless. Each time you messed up in rehearsal, each time you forgot a note when you practiced your solo, was quickly forgotten when you played the next ten reps perfectly.
But when you had gone to college, getting your customer service degree because 'it was more proactive than something like music', you had exchanged your passion for money. And then, when you had gotten your short lived job at Valdivian, you had exchanged your half hour of 'human' interaction (because really, could you call people like that human?) for limbo. And your passion had nearly disappeared at that point, because you knew that you'd be replaced by a robot the second the message came in.
You breathed in through your nose and out through your mouth, a technique that you had learned from your first retail manager when you had broken down sobbing after someone had nearly slapped you across the face. "You're right. Nothing does beat talent like passion."
"If you want to see passion, you should accompany us to the club after this," Johnny exclaimed. "Everyone there could benefit from seein' your gorgeous face."
Miranda hummed her encouragement as he continued. "Even though it's, er, open 'mic' implyin' singin', any instrument can just saunter up," the black haired man said, leaning against the glass door leading to the gallons of 1% milk. "Remember once Keyes had people haul a piano up there," he mused.
Keyes looked up from what she was writing, which seemed to be a list of tasks to send to Hector, and scoffed. "I'm surprised that their piano was even tucked away in the storage room," she said. "It really contributes well to the jazz atmosphere. And no instrument deserves to be crammed away like it was."
At the mention of jazz, Rainey perked up. "I would just love to do a saxophone solo there. Why don't we meet tomorrow? I haven't had top shelf giggle water in a good long while," she yawned.
You contemplated saying no, but when each of their eyes met yours, you found your tongue unable to say anything but "Yes. Of course."
×â°â⤠The Breaker Box, Day/Month/Year
You had come in your best clothes, even going to the effort of styling your hair. You were the last one to convene outside the door, unsurprisingly. After the brown haired, bearded man outside had checked your ID, you slid inside, trying your best to blend in with the other partygoers.
You found the four at a booth in the VIP section, along with Jean Loo, who was picking at the back of his nape. He was whispering something under his breath and scribbling on a notepad with his left hand, which you either thought was chicken scratch or French. Maybe they were lyrics? Was he, somehow, still in college, memorizing something?
When you set your trumpet with an unceremonial thump onto the table, Johnny turned to face you with the brightest grin you'd ever seen on his handsome face.
"Gorgeous!" He waved, beckoning you closer. Miranda slid her headphones off, toying with her guitar. Rainey made a muffled 'hello' sound, her mouth stuffed with a saxophone reed.
Keyes cracked her knuckles, shuffling through her sheet music. "[Name], you're here."
You bit your tongue. "I am, yes." You wondered what she'd say. Would she ask you a question? Oh, no. Should you come up with some generic answers? You ate spaghetti last night, you video called Sam, and youâ
She looked at her gold painted fingernails and gestured to a red-clad man mopping an area where no patrons were. "Could you ask Hoove to do one more clean of the stage?"
âSo! How⌠long have you left this trumpet marinating?â
Sam makes a disgruntled sound and grips the handle of your trumpetâs case with a sigh. Thereâs a sizable layer of dust that Samâs fingertips cut through like a hot knife through butter.
âYâknow, the last time I heard you play, you were really goodâŚâ Her features turn mischievous as she pushes the trumpet case into your arms. âYou should pick this back up.â
âśď¸ â˘áá||á|á||||áâââââá|⢠0:10 ×â°â⤠the musical characters (rainey, keyes, miranda, jean loo, and johnny/reader)
ââ .⌠Youâve played the trumpet since you could move the muscles on your face⌠but your draining, terrible job has sucked the life out of you. Sam, vivacious as always, pours that life back into youâ and drags you out of your hermit shell.
self conscious reader, trumpet player!reader, ~1k words, part two of eight
02. raindrops keep fallinâ on my head
The first thing youâre met with is the sunglass-clad face of a girl with vivid pink hair and an even more vivid smile.
âHi!â she grabs you by the shoulders and nearly pulls you inside, shutting the door with a âclickâ behind you. Youâre absolutely sure that it does nothing to deter the sound.
She brushes off your left shoulder and sticks out her right hand. âIâm Skylar Specs. Your teacher and conductor⌠well, weâre close in age, anyway. Just call me Skylar. And your lifeââ
You tentatively take her hand, to which she reinforces with her left and aggressively shakes.
âIs about to change!â
×â°â⤠Music Center, Day/Month/Year, Rehearsal 1
You learn their names easily enoughâ not that you want to.
Sheet music is distributed. Skylar pulls up concert seating order, but everyone ends up sitting wherever they want, anyway. You watch the six as you run through half-remembered scales.
You donât realize that your two minutes of warm-up time is over until Skylar claps her hands and asks everyone to âtake a look at the new musicâ.
Itâs slightly difficultâ or rather, tedious. The time signature is common, but itâs meant to be a âswingâ song, thereâs an emphasis on accents, and the tempoâs set at 120.
âHappy Togetherâ, uncopyrighted by Skylar Specs. Youâve heard it before, doomscrolling, but when have you not heard an old song repurposed to be a money-grabbing commercial hit? It might be nice, you think, to exercise my embouchure. God knows my tongue hasnât gotten much action lately.
âOkay,â Skylar announces. âIâll give you another two Skylar minutesâ thatâs either way more or way less than two actual minutes âso you can practice any part you find difficult, because youâll definitely be sight reading almost the whole thing when we all play together.â
You let a breath escape you and hold your trumpet up to your mouth once again. The room fills with sound; certainty not anything pleasant. You find yourself mellowing out amongst everyone, worried to make a mistake. That would definitely draw attention, and you had already shown yourself enough during icebreakers.
Your month-long band mates did not need to know half the things they do.
After what feels like 30 seconds, (but is probably actually five minutes), Skylar claps her hands once more and holds up her baton, held together with a substantial amount of duct tape and hot glue. You instinctively sit up straighter, and set your brow. Out the corner of your eye, Rainey does the same, and you can only assume that the other four mimic youâ or maybe you mimic them. Skylar twirls her baton, slower than the actual tempo, but it still fills you with a feeling of exhilaration. Adrenaline. And most prominentâ nostalgia.
Playing together⌠is an experience. It takes you back to your middle and high school, in those hallowed halls, where your band would play a song hundreds of times, stopping after a couple measures, playing once more, and stopping yet again. Like a car in traffic.
Johnny, quite the⌠influenced singer, adds his own twang upon the lyrics. The three who donât use their lungs to push sound through their instrument take the place of both the backing vocals and their respective instruments. Theyâre almost scatting (and they said you didnât learn anything from that music theory unit in 10th grade!) and your trumpet seems to mix with their notes and voices like sugar in hot water.
Itâs positively exhilarating. By the time youâre done playing through the song, youâre sweating and smiling. Rainey turns to you, a knowing glint in her eye.
âYou felt it, right?â she asks. âThat⌠sensation.â
You start and snap your head towards her so fast you think you pull a nerve.
She laughs at this, light and airy. âItâs better than a hundred swigs of giggle juice,â she remarks. âYouâll be here in two days. For that next rehearsal.â
You frown. âWhat?â
She repeats the statement, smiling all the while. âYouâll be here. I know you will.â
×â°â⤠Parking lot, Ville, Day/Month/Year
When you slide your trumpet back into its case and leave with the rest of the band (who jive with each other, and you feel like an intruder amongst old friends), you think about what Rainey said.
That youâd be back. She said it like she knew, like it was a fact instead of wishful thinking. Perhaps you wouldnât come back, just to prove to her that she couldnât tell you what to do.
Youâre still torn between abandoning these freaks, donating your trumpet to charity, and leaving the country, or staying, trying to fit inâ possibly to no avail, when you hear a Spanish accent puncture your thoughts.
âHey, [Name]. You like music, right? Will you give my song a listen? Youâre good at analyzing chords ân all that.â Fuck. You shouldnât have said anything about having a strange affinity for music in your youth. Now everyoneâs looking at you.
Palms itchy, you swallow your pride and nod, and Miranda presses the âplayâ button on a (terrible) recording on her phoneâs camera app.
When Miranda turns to you and asks you what you think of the song, and tells you that âthere are certainty more in store if you fancy her styleâ, itâs like feeling a ray of sunshine in the frigid winter. When the other musicians surround you, mentioning their own musical experiences, itâs like the cold lap of the ocean against your skin on the hottest day of the year.
And when you get in your car, hearing voices fading away like the sun disappearing on the horizon, you feel a sudden urge to call out. To bid them goodbye, and to promise that youâd be there on Thursday, and that youâd be easygoing and relaxed.
But when you roll down your window to say something suave like âsee you soon, guysâ, you feel a knot in your throat. And you put your car in reverse and pull out of the parking lot, unable to look at them as you pass.
