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#i really like the music here aaaa

celestie0 · 3 months

Text

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.5 these feelings are hard to find

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 5/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 10.4k

a/n. aaaa this chapter took me a while because i was having some pretty bad writer's block. i seriously can't believe it crossed over 10k words, i very poorly planned how much i wanted to get done by this chapter, but i didn't feel like splitting it into two so oh wellll. hope you enjoy! pls excuse any typos we all live on a floating rock.

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

“I really don’t understand why I’m here…” you’re grumbling as you, Mina and Todo make your way up the pavement of the driveway leading to the house party. You glance to your right where Mina and Todo are holding hands, arms swinging as they keep pace together.

It was finally Friday after a particularly long and stressful week, so you were extremely excited to just spend the rest of the night relaxing at home. You had already poured yourself a glass of wine when you returned from your evening class and were sitting on the couch with a blanket on, scrolling through Netflix, when Mina approached you while she was talking to Todo on the phone. She mentioned something about an SAE party tonight that she wanted you to come along for and Todo said he’d extend his other invite to you. When you politely declined, Mina slumped down on the couch and told Todo she had no interest in going unless you also came. And then Todo was bribing you with a hundred bucks. Easiest hundred bucks you’ve ever made.

“Don’t be a downer. You’re here because I think you’ve been working hard and you need to relax a bit,” Mina chirps, now clinging onto Todo’s arm, “and there’s no better way to relax than getting drunk.”

“I could be getting drunk at home,” you mumble to yourself, the night you were imagining for yourself all day being very different from where you find yourself now.

The guy that was bouncing for tonight’s party was scanning people’s phones and engaging in some small talk before allowing people inside. He was pretty handsome and you wondered if there was some sort of requirement written in the rules to the SAE fraternity that they must be good-looking to join.

“Hello, my brother,” Todo says as he approaches, smacking him so hard on the back in greeting that the man stumbles over slightly and sends an irritated glare Todo’s way before he regains his balance.

“Hey, big guy, are these your invites?” He gestures towards you and Mina, his eyes landing on yours and lingering for a moment. You blink at him.

“Yes, this here’s my lovely lady, and this here’s my lovely lady’s friend,” Todo says with a faux suave that only makes you narrow your eyes at him. The man at the entrance sighs and nods before stepping out of the way and motioning the three of you towards the entrance.

The minute you enter, you immediately realize that this party felt very different from the one you were at last week. It was slightly less crowded, but there were still plenty of people bustling around the large expanse of the ground floor with loud rap music that practically shook the walls. It was dark, much more edgy, with the only source of light being the sporadic flashing of lights over by the DJ’s booth. You felt disoriented from the atmosphere, and the smell of weed and alcohol only further dazed you.

“This is insane,” you barely hear Mina say beside you over the music as she looks around the expansive interior of the house. In between the brief flickering lights that lit up people’s faces, you register that Todo is grinning at her as though he was entirely satisfied by her reaction.

You only make it a few steps inside, trailing behind Mina and Todo, before feeling the need to excuse yourself to get away from the intense environment for a second. “Hey, I think I’m going to use the restroom real quick. Todo, do you have any idea where it is?” You feel like you’re shouting just to be heard.

He looks over his shoulder at you. “There are some downstairs but they probably have lines. You could try upstairs.”

You give him an appreciative nod and head over to the base of the staircase at the right, glancing up before making your ascent. There didn’t seem to be anyone else upstairs, which surprised you, but you figured you were just in luck and began to walk up step by step until reaching the top. The music downstairs begins to sound muffled as you turn around the railing post and make your way to the left into the narrow hallway likely leading towards the bedrooms. There's a white door somewhere in the middle of the hallway that could only be either a closet or a bathroom. You wrap your hand around the cold metal door handle and twist, satisfied that it wasn’t locked.

The mumbling noises of people inside doesn’t register in your mind until you’ve already cracked the door open half-way, and your entire body recoils in the immediate rush of embarrassment washing over you as you take in the sight of two people, a man and a woman, getting handsy with one another in the bathroom.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” is all you manage to squeak out, blinking dumbly at the scene.

You’re quick to avert your gaze and about to close the door, incredibly mortified by what’s just happened, when the familiar silhouette in front of you causes you to freeze. You slowly lift your line of sight from the bathroom floor until Gojo Satoru is looking you straight in the eye from where he has a girl on the bathroom counter clinging to his shirt.

“I…” you stutter, face feeling immediately hot as you let go of the door handle and look away from his shocked face. “Sorry,” you say again, this time barely above a whisper, before turning on your heel and making your way down the hallway in such a hurry that you don’t even realize you’re going the wrong way. You hear a feminine voice echo something in the bathroom like what the fuck are you doing?, and then there’s footsteps following after you that sound faster than your own. Ignoring the call of your name, you practically storm into one of the bedrooms, entirely relieved that it was empty, and can only take a couple of steps inside before a hand grabs at your wrist. A chill runs down your spine from the contact.

“Wait, y/n,” Gojo says behind you from where he’s followed you inside, sounding like he’s out of breath. His hand is still holding onto you, keeping you still and you can feel the roughness of his calluses against your skin. When you turn around to face him, he’s close to you and you see his chest is heaving, his hair is disheveled, his shirt is wrinkled at the front and there’s a crease in his brow.

Your eyes don’t stay on his for long before you’re looking away from him again. “I’m…I’m really sorry, that was really awkward,” you say with a forced laugh and an attempt to wiggle yourself free of his grip but he’s unrelenting. The image of his fingers sliding up that girl’s top was still burned in your vision and no amount of excessive blinking at the carpet beneath your feet seemed to make it disappear.

“No, I’m sorry, I was supposed to lock…” his trails off and you notice there’s a rough quality to his voice, “that was just-, we were just-”

You finally brave yourself to look up at him and he somehow seems closer than before, his face just inches away from yours and his eyes briefly flickering to your lips before he meets your gaze with a tense expression on his face. You haven’t seen him look so flustered before, and you’ve certainly never heard him struggle this much to find his words either.

His other hand rubs the back of his neck as he closes his eyes in what looks like frustration, then takes a deep breath to seemingly calm himself down before speaking again. “She’s…We’re just friends,” is all he manages to say.

There’s a silence between the two of you as you blink at him and he stares at you, his thumb pressing into the skin of where his hand was still wrapped around your wrist. You try really hard to bite back the words you’re about to say, but no amount of willpower could’ve helped you. Your chin tips up, looking at him more decisively, and his gaze is flickering to your mouth again. “Just friends…can’t say I’ve ever tried to get my friends naked in the bathroom at a party before.” You didn’t understand why your tone came off so hostile, but it felt good to criticize his choice of words for some reason.

His lips press together, gaze narrowing slightly and eyebrows furrowing further at your words. He leans in closer to the point where your senses were entirely occupied by him and it was impossible to think of anything else. “Well, you weren’t supposed to see that.” His eyes are contrite but his tone is vexed.

You relax your body language and use your other hand to forcefully slide his hand off of your wrist, encountering some resistance from him before he acquiesces. Your skin tingles from the absence of his touch and you take a step backwards away from him. His posture straightens slightly, eyes continuing to dart across the features of your face and wide in anticipation as though he was patiently waiting for you to say something that would put him at ease.

“It’s fine,” you say, trying your best to keep your voice as level as possible, “I accidentally walked in on something I shouldn’t have. You don’t owe me any sort of explanation for it.” Gojo seems to tense up even further at your words, his expression briefly contorting into one of confusion before it reverts to concern again.

You walk around him towards the bedroom door and see him in your periphery watching every step you take until you eventually exit the room. This time, you don’t hear his footsteps pursuing you from behind. It’s only when you make it past the bathroom, not even daring to take a look inside of it, and about halfway down the hallway that you unsteadily let out the breath you were holding in. Your hand takes its place over your chest in a flimsy attempt to calm your heart down as you quickly make your way down the stairs. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach and you knew you just had to get as far away from here as possible.

You’re barely able to spot Mina from where she stood with Todo in a corner near the backyard screen door, and briefly notice that Nanami, Geto, as well as a few of their other teammates were clustered there too. You politely acknowledge their pleasant greetings to you as you approach Mina, pulling her to the side.

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” She asks, stumbling a little bit and you let go of her sleeve.

“I’m going to go home, not feeling well, I think I just got my period,” you easily come up with a lie, “Nobara says she’ll pick me up.” In truth, you were planning on just calling an Uber for home, but you knew that Mina wouldn’t let you go home by yourself. You didn’t want your confusing and heightened emotions ruining her night.

“Wait, are you sure? I’ll come with you,” she’s quick to say, taking a step towards you but you shake your head.

“No, it’s fine, stay here with Todo,” you demand, “and call me if you need me to pick you up. I’ll let you know when I’m home.” You give her a little hug and she’s standing there confused before hesitantly nodding, and then you make your way to the door. The loud music, flashing lights, and blurred faces around you were so intensely stimulating that when the cold air from outside finally hit your skin, you felt like you were human again.

The Uber comes by in less than ten minutes as you wait for it on the sidewalk. The driver drops you off at the entrance of your apartment complex and the biting chill of the air has you wrapping your arms around yourself as you wait for the elevator to take you upstairs. Glancing down at your phone to check the time, you see a message from Mina asking if you were home yet. You also see that it’s nearly one in the morning.

Finally making your way inside your apartment, you lock the door behind you and text Mina that you’re home, then slide down with your back against the front door until you’re sitting on the floor. The heat inside was so comforting that you just spent a moment to warm yourself up and just breathe.

Memories of your conversation with Gojo from just half an hour ago instantly come to the forefront of your mind and you’re shutting your eyes to try and repel the thoughts away. Still so embarrassed that you walked in on him making out with someone, your brain decides to mortify you even further by asking what if you had walked in a few moments later instead? What would you have seen then?

You squish your cheeks between your hands defeatedly before letting out a sigh and drawing your legs in towards you, hugging your knees to your chest. You didn’t understand why you were so affected by what you saw. You’ve only met Gojo twice, and you knew even before you met him that he was that kind of person. He had a reputation of being involved with a lot of women, so his rather eager desire to explain himself to you just puzzled you even further.

Standing up, you head over to your bed and flop down on it. Your wrist still burns with the memory of the heat of his hand, and all you can see behind the lids of your eyes when you close them is the sight of him so close to you, stealing glances at your lips.

Somewhere along the night as you drifted in and out of sleep, Mina called to let you know that she was on her way home. When you hear her open the bedroom door and set her purse down on the nightstand near her bed, your body finally convinces you that it’s okay to rest, and that’s exactly what you do.

---

The weekend is over in the blink of an eye, simply not enough time to mope around in bed, and you’re walking out of your last class of the day on Monday. You check your phone pretty much every other minute to see if Gojo has sent you any messages regarding their new practice schedule for the week, which you’re sure he’s received by now, but there’s nothing. The last messages sent between the two of you were before the party on Friday, and an uneasy feeling has been settling in. You spent most of last week appreciating how helpful he was being so far, but you didn’t even consider the possibility that he could rescind his help at any time too.

You head over to the Department of Communication & Journalism building, making your way up the stairs until you reach the graduate division floor and walk down the hallway to Room 212. As you make your entry, a toasty and rich scent overtakes your senses.

“Ah, y/n, hello! So good to see you, thanks for coming by. I missed seeing you last week,” you hear Utahime say as she sets down a cup of coffee for you on the conference table in the middle of the room.

“Sorry, I was just…very mentally occupied last week,�� you admit to her, setting your tote bag down on one of the chairs before taking the seat where the cup of coffee was placed, the fragrance instantly waking you up as you take a sip. “Thank you. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you, just working through my thesis,” she says with a sigh and takes the seat next to you. “Just a few more months…just a few more months, and I’m free!”

You smile at her and watch as she pulls out her laptop, the start-up noise chiming before she starts clicking away at the million tabs that were open. “Did you receive the email I sent you for the newsletter shots?” You ask.

Utahime was a 4th-year graduate student in journalism and was also the head of the school’s newsletter. She has so graciously allowed for Film Club photography shout-outs in every monthly issue for the past couple of years.

She nods. “I did,” she says, resting her elbow on the table and tapping her index finger to her chin, “how come I didn’t see any of your photos in there, though?”

You sigh, sulking your shoulders slightly as you peer down into the brown liquid of your cup and watch the steam evaporate. “I didn’t really take great pictures this month.”

“Aw, well are you working on anything right now?” She returns to clicking away at tabs.

“Yeah, I’ll be taking film photos out on the field of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni next week. It’s for an assignment,” you tell her and watch as her face lights up.

“That’s wonderful! That’s a pretty big gig, they usually only let professionals out on the field. How were you able to secure that?” Utahime asks you as she tips her head to the side.

“Ah…let’s just say I have some sort of deal with one of their players?” You say. Your heart drops a little when you remember the lack of communication from Gojo as of recently, wondering if he was able to get that referee permission for you.

“Which one?” Utahime asks with a teasing smile, leaning over to nudge you with her elbow.

“Gojo Satoru,” you say and then she’s pulling away from you and rolling her eyes, an annoyed look making its way onto her face. You let out a small laugh at her behavior. “Okay, well now I’m curious.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh as she peers beyond the window of the room. “I was his TA when he was just a wee-little freshman. He was always showing up late to class and trying to flirt his way out of completing assignments,” she grumbles, “is he still a little brat?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking way harder about her question than she had probably intended. “I don’t know…I don’t really know him all that well.” You look down at your hands. Despite the fact that you’ve only known Gojo for a short while, for some reason you felt like you did know him well. You knew the kinds of things that made him smile, you knew the look in his eyes when he was deep in thought about something. You knew what the heat from his body felt like, what the fragrance of his clothes smelled like.

Utahime is silent for a moment as she studies you. “Hmm,” she’s humming next to you, “well, tell you what, send me your photos when you’re done with them. If they’re good, I’ll use your photos for the sports recap in the newsletter instead of the professional ones we get sent from the school. I can compensate you for them as well.”

Your eyes widen as you look at her, jaw dropping a bit as you blink in disbelief. “Utahime…you would do that for me?”

She gives you a smile and a wink. “Of course, talent helps talent. And it’s my newsletter, I can do whatever I want with it. Besides, you want to get into the school’s film graduate program, right? I’m sure it would look great on your application that you’ve had some of your portfolio published to the school’s official reports. The photos have to be good, though.” She points a finger at you and gives you a strict look.

You feel tears prickle in your eyes from her words, so overwhelmingly grateful for her support, and can barely whisper out a thank you before she’s rushing over to the other table to grab a tissue box and set it in front of you.

“Gosh, why do all my undergrads cry in my presence?” she complains as she pulls out a tissue and hands it to you.

You dab it to your eye. “Because you have such wholesome mom energy.”

You say goodbye to Utahime after discussing a few more things and then leave the room. You check your phone and your heart skips a beat when you see Gojo’s name in your notifications.

|| 1:43PM Gojo Satoru: Hey, just wanted to let you know I was able to get that referee permission for you for next week

You let out a tiny gasp when you read his words then clutch your phone to your chest in relief. Utahime’s offer of the prospect of getting published in the school’s newsletter gave you a large sense of purpose, and you felt like it was time to take this assignment of yours extremely seriously to secure the opportunity. And Gojo was the one with the power to help you do that.

|| 1:52PM You: thank you so much, i really don’t know how to repay you

You sigh as you make your way to the stairs, grateful that you were getting some communication from him. The big game on the 28th was next Thursday, and you really needed to practice taking photos with your film camera. You open Instagram again to ask him for his practice schedule, but you see that he had sent you another message.

|| 1:54PM Gojo Satoru: No need to repay me, consider us even. Also sorry for the late notice, but we’re having a formal practice match in about an hour with one of the teams we played against earlier in the season. Do you want to come by?

After reading his message, you quickly shuffle your tote bag open and peer inside to see that you did indeed bring your film camera with you to campus today. Excited, you type out a response.

|| 1:55PM You: yes! i’ll hesd over right now

|| 1:55PM You: *head over

|| 1:55PM You: lol

You see little bubbles indicating typing in the left side corner.

|| 1:55PM Gojo Satoru: Meet me by the art sculpture, I’ll walk you over

You blink at the message for a few seconds, starting to type out a message before deleting it, and doing that a couple more times over. When someone tries to shuffle around you from behind, you notice you were standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs so you step away and lean against the wall. You press your lips together in consideration as you realize that today would be the first time you’re going to see Gojo again after that awkward interaction that you had with him at the party last Friday, and you were really not sure how you were going to feel having to be alone with him again.

|| 1:57PM You: that’s okay, i don’t want to trouble you

His response is instant.

|| 1:57PM Gojo Satoru: Just meet me there

Once you’ve made your way across campus, you spot Gojo sitting on the concrete barrier surrounding the art sculpture by the fields practically right in front of the please do not sit on the concrete barrier sign. His head is turned away from the direction you were approaching from, arms crossed at his chest and one of his legs impatiently bouncing up and down. You notice he’s wearing the school’s colors, a teal blue shirt and gray shorts that had some highlights of a sunset yellow, as well as gray athletic soccer shin socks and cleats. He looks so ridiculously sports boyfriend that you have to shake your head to try and physically fight the effect of how attracted you were to him.

He must’ve heard you approaching as you crossed the street towards him since he turned his head in your direction. He’s wearing a black sports headband across his forehead that’s pushing the hair up out of his face and you’re startled by the intensity of his blue eyes on you. When he stands up, his arms fall to his side, making you sad that you could no longer shamelessly stare at the way his biceps flexed when he had his arms crossed.

“Hey,” he says simply, staying perfectly still where he stood.

There was only one way to dissolve an awkward situation, and that was to pretend like it never happened in the first place. You tip your head to the side, giving him a curious look before skipping right on up to him. “Hello, there,” you cheerfully say. He looks at you with a borderline annoyed expression.

“You’re in a good mood today,” he comments, his voice sounding deeper than usual. Almost tired.

“Yes, very good mood,” you chirp as you walk past him, “I just got a very good offer.”

The sound of the bottom of his cleats on the sidewalk follow after you as you head in the direction of the softball batting cages. It's not long before he emerges at your side in your periphery. “What kind of offer?” You can tell from his tone that he was trying to restrain his curiosity.

“Oh, you’ll see,” you say as you look up at him and smile. He gives you an irritated expression due to your lack of transparency but you continue to skip forward until you’ve made it to stairs that lead up to the grassy hills.

Gojo’s about a step’s distance behind you as you lightly frolic across the land, your heavy tote bag bumping against your hip with every jump. You feel something fly out of it which halts you in your gleeful stride and look behind to where your bluetooth laptop mouse has fallen onto the grass right in front of Gojo. He’s sighing before crouching down to pick it up, then takes a step towards you and extends it out to you. When you glance up at him, he’s not looking at you and his face is hard to read.

You grab the mouse from him, fingertips brushing against the skin of his palm, and he ever-so-slightly shivers at the touch. His gaze finally meets yours.

With a sigh, you toss your computer mouse back into your bag. “I’m trying really hard to not feel awkward around you right now, but you’re making it pretty difficult.” You were so used to feeling like he has the upper edge of conversation when you’re with him, but now you felt like you were the one with the power.

He raises an eyebrow at you and when you look at his hands, you notice he was apprehensively cracking his knuckles with his thumbs. “Maybe you wouldn’t feel awkward if you actually stayed to talk last Friday.”

You cross your arms across your chest, disliking his tone. “Stayed to talk? About what? How not close you are with your ‘friends’?”

He tips his head up to the sky and closes his eyes, his brow furrowing like he was entirely frustrated by you, before he looks back down at you again. “If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine, but what’s with you always running away whenever I try to talk to you?”

“I wasn’t feeling well that night,” you mumble to him as you turn away and continue to walk towards the practice field. It was the truth, you weren’t feeling well that night, and it was because seeing him kissing another girl made your stomach drop to the core of the Earth. But that wasn’t something you were going to admit to him. It wasn’t even something you were ready to admit to yourself. “Also, it’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t care to believe you.”

“But why don’t you care?” he’s asking you, his voice sounding desperate now as he makes his way to your side again. He’s looking at you but you’re looking straight ahead.

You roll your eyes, continuing to march forwards. “Not everyone cares about your love life, Satoru. Contrary to what you might think.”

He jogs ahead a few steps, now walking backwards in front of you and you narrow your eyes at him. His tongue is poking at the inside of his cheek and then there’s a boyish grin on his face. “Say that again.”

“Say what again?” you ask.

“My name,” he says.

You almost roll your eyes out of your head when you see his amused expression. “I seriously can’t believe this right now,” you’re muttering under your breath and walk past him down the large hill leading to the practice field, his gaze on you burning through your skin until you’re rubbing at your cheek with the back of your hand in a feeble attempt to physically wipe the blush away.

The practice field was much more crowded and busy than it was during the first practice you went to last week. Looking across to the other side, you see a group of men huddled near one of the benches, all of them wearing maroon-colored shirts with black shorts that have gold stripes running down the side of them. None of them were wearing jerseys, but you assumed they were wearing their school colors as some sort of distinguishing clothing that would help them during the practice match.

“Satoru! Where the hell have you been?” You flinch upon hearing Coach Yaga’s stern voice nearby and you look over to where he had his arms crossed and glaring at Gojo through his thick sunglasses.

Gojo walks past you towards the benches and gives Coach Yaga a salute. “Sorry, sir, personal business.” He then makes his way over to the rest of his teammates that were huddled on this side of the field. There were a few tables located on the sidelines that had refillable water stations, bottles of Gatorade, towels and all sorts of other athletic gear. You walk up to one of the tables and fix the settings on your film camera before taking a snapshot of the items laid out on it.

The atmosphere is light since this wasn’t an official match and so you spend some time fidgeting with your camera before they get started. You can only imagine how tense it must be during a proper tournament game at the actual stadium off-campus, the thought of thousands of people spectating from stands sending a shiver down your spine. Athletes were of a whole different breed, despite how wholesome and down-to-earth most of the UTokyo soccer players you’ve met so far were.

Eventually, Coach Yaga and the other coach from the opposing school blow their whistles, both acting as referees for the match, and the players scatter themselves across the field. You notice Gojo is at the center of the circle in the middle, his foot on top of the ball as he scans his eyes across the field to each of the players with a focused look in his eyes. He draws his foot back, and just when you think he’s about to kick it forwards to where he was looking, the back of his heel makes contact with the ball instead and it’s sent swiftly behind him towards Geto. Instantly, all the players begin to move across the field, some of the offensive opposing side charging towards Geto as he shuffles the ball between his feet before kicking it way ahead of him to another one of their teammates. You bring your camera up to your face and take a snapshot when one of the opposing team’s defenders makes an attempt to steal the ball.

The play continues further, both teams playing a push-and-pull with the ball. Gojo makes an attempt at a goal before the opposing team’s goalie lunges for the ball that was flying in the air straight towards the net, catching it in his arms and then crashing down onto the ground. Somewhere along the intense match, the coaches call half-time and you’re shocked by how fast the first half went by.

Some of the players retreat to the benches to quench their thirst and wipe the perspiration off their faces with their towels, while others remain on the green expanse to pace around while catching their breath. Your attention is drawn to Gojo who stood at the center with his hands on his hips and breathing visibly heavily. He leisurely shuffles the ball between his feet with an innate rhythm before passing it off towards Geto who stood a few feet away from him. Gojo pulled his headband off of his face, his hair falling over his forehead onto the sheen layer of sweat above his eyes. With each breath, his chest rises and falls, lips parted in a display of exertion, and then he grabs at the hem of his shirt to lift it to his face, exposing his toned torso, as he wipes away the sweat at his temples. Your eyes widen at the sight, almost entranced as a wave of arousal suddenly consumes you, before he releases his grip on the fabric and it falls back down. He pushes his hair back up out of his face with one of his hands, the other securing the headband back onto his forehead with a snap, and the muscles of his arms tense fluidly with every motion.

You quickly look away from him, afraid he'll catch you staring, and blink at the grass as you notice the fast beating of your heart. Coach Yaga's whistle blows, causing you to look back up again. Players were making their way back onto the field and Gojo found his position at the center again. His eyes darted across the field, making their way onto the faces of each player, and then they eventually landed on you. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards slightly into a small smile before he's looking back down at the ball by his feet. And then they start the kickoff.

UTokyo ends up winning 3-1, and by the end of the match the sun is starting to set, painting the sky beautiful hues of purple and orange. You lean over to pick your things up off the grass as the players make their final retreat to the benches, and you gently place your film camera back into its case when Gojo’s voice next to you makes you jump.

“Hey. Please don’t run off,” he says. When you turned to look at him, he was still breathing a bit fast and he had a flushed, almost serene, look across his face. “Give me your phone.” He extends his open palm out to you.

“My phone?” You ask him, reaching for where it was located in your back pocket and pulling it out. He nods without any further explanation. You place it in his palm and he’s tapping away at it before handing it back to you. When you look down, you notice he gave a random number a call.

“That’s my number. Save it,” he says. You blink at him. His expression is soft for a moment and then he’s turning around and away from you, heading over to where his teammates were crowded around one of the tables and giving each other pats on the back.

You tip your head to the side to watch him as a couple of his teammates sling their arm around his neck and smack his chest, masculine laughter and jokes filling the air. You can’t help but smile before you pick up your things and start making your way up the hill away from the field, back towards the heart of campus.

---

The following days of the week where you don’t see Gojo play soccer seems like a waste, because why weren’t you spending every single day of your life watching him play soccer? You sigh to yourself at the question as you use clothing pins to hang up the film photos you took up onto a wall in your school’s photo lab. You finished developing the photos from Monday’s practice match, only to realize that you accidentally took them on one of your black-and-white rolls instead of full-color. You step back to take a look at all the images you had clipped onto the string pinned to the walls, snapping a shot of the collage with your phone, before pulling them all back down and stuffing them into a Manila folder.

The only time the photo lab wasn’t bustling with other film & photography majors was usually after sunset, but by the time you finished having dinner with one of your friends on campus, you had made it there around 7PM. By the time you leave and make it to your parked car, it’s pitch black outside. As you step inside your car and turn the key to ignite the engine, the windshield wipers automatically swiping as the control lights inside come to life, the clock on your dashboard reads 10:37PM.

The GPS for some reason prompts you to take an alternative route back to your apartment that avoids the freeway in an attempt to save you from twenty minutes of traffic, and you consider what to do for a moment before the exhaustion in your bones convinces you to take the allegedly faster way home.

As you begin to head in the unfamiliar direction, the excitement you had to make it home as soon as possible slowly starts to dwindle more and more as the streets morph from well-lit and bustling with people to dark and surrounded by trees instead. What used to be a three-lane street turned into one, and you count the seconds between every passing car you see coming by in the opposite direction. You’re worried when your counting makes it past sixty seconds.

You turn your music up in your car to distract yourself from the fear of driving down the secluded and dark road. There was a slight fog settling up ahead in front of you to where you could only see clearly about thirty feet ahead. You spot something on the road, blinking rapidly to focus your vision, and then your eyes widen when you realize what it was. Rocks.

You’re instantly swerving your car to the side, attempting to deftly avoid the scattered rocks but unfortunately you drive over a few of them, causing your tire to pop and you let out a scream when you lose handle on your car. One of the rocks flies up and hits your windshield, cracking the glass, and suddenly you’re driving up over the curb to the right before you finally regain control of your car and swerve back onto the road, slamming on the brakes.

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your body, and you grip onto the steering wheel while you try to regain your breath. Your windshield had a large crack in it, large enough to where the cold air from outside was whistling its way inside your car, and you were slanted in your seat due to the punctured tire at the front. As you took deep breaths, you noticed how alone you were on a dimly lit street where you hadn’t seen a single car in more than five minutes, fear and anxiety surging through your body. Your hands reach for your phone, shakily turning it on and exhaling in relief when you see that you have reception, then call the emergency telephone line.

“Hello, how can we help you?” a feminine voice on the other end of the line says.

“Hi, um,” you say, voice sounding shaky, “I just got a flat tire on Musashi road, about five miles from the Main Street intersection. I don’t have a spare on me, and my windshield is cracked too…could you send roadside assistance?”

“Yes, absolutely,” the woman says kindly and begins to take down some information from you. “Thank you, ma’am. Unfortunately, there has been a big accident on the freeway, so many of the tow-trucks and officers have been dispatched to that area. It may take about an hour for help to arrive. Are you able to call someone to come stay with you as you wait?”

“Oh…” You press your lips together in thought. “Yes, I should be able to.” After working out a bit more logistics with the woman on the other line, you hang up and then you’re scrolling through your contacts. You first call Mina’s line, which goes straight to voicemail, and then you remember that she was out of town for tonight and half of tomorrow visiting her family. You call Nobara, who also doesn’t pick up, and then a couple of your other friends who go straight to voicemail as well. You start to panic slightly before calling your friend Maki who lives two hours away.

“Hello?” You hear her voice say when she picks up.

“Maki! Oh my gosh, thank you for picking up,” you say to her through the phone, your hand on your chest as you sigh. You explain your situation to her and she’s instantly providing you with soothing words.

“Is there no one that can come stay with you? I feel awful that I’m so far away,” she says.

“It’s okay, they said that help will be here in maybe fifty minutes now…I just really wanted to talk to someone,” you say, peering out into the darkness of the night. You’re still shocked you haven’t seen a single car drive by in the past ten minutes. You pull your phone from your face to check the time and see a notification on your phone that says 5% battery remaining. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Maki asks worriedly.

“My phone is running out of battery…” you say with a defeated tone. Your anxiety starts to rise in your chest again. “I don’t know if I can stay on the line.” You scroll through your contacts again, finger halting the screen when your eyes land on another name. “I…I think I have someone else I can try calling.”

“Good, try that. I don’t want you to be stuck out there with a dead phone and a flat tire. Let me know if this person doesn’t pick up, okay?” She’s saying to you and you send her your location before hanging up.

You’re breathing heavily from fear when a particularly harsh gust of wind pushes more cold air through the crack of your windshield. Pulling your phone from your face, you click on the name in your contacts and bring your phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, almost a third time before you hear a click and then a voice.

“Y/n?” Gojo’s voice calls out, sounding surprised.

Hearing his voice immediately causes a wave of relief to wash over you and you lay back in your seat, having to muffle the abrupt sob that threatens to erupt from the tightness in your throat. “Hi,” you whisper.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asks.

“Mm…no,” you admit to him, sniffling slightly and swiping at the stray tear that rolls down your cheek with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’m just a bit scared right now.” Your voice cracks towards the end of your sentence and you silently berate yourself for not mustering enough emotional strength at the moment.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice starting to sound uneasy.

“I was driving down this road, it was dark, I couldn’t really see much…but I ended up driving over these rocks and my tire punctured. I called for roadside assistance and they said it would take about an hour for help to arrive,” you ramble, “I tried calling Mina, and some of my other friends to come and wait with me, but-” You run out of breath to finish your sentence and you’re sniffling again.

“Send me your location, I’m heading over right now,” he says and you hear what sounds like keys jingling in the background along with some other shuffling noises, “can you stay on the line?”

You pull your phone from your ear and see that you’re at 3% now before sending him your location. “No…my phone is running out of battery.”

He’s silent for a second on the other end. “It says I’ll be there in twelve minutes. Just…hang tight, okay? Make sure your doors are locked.”

You nod before remembering that he can’t see you, so you say I will. He’s hesitant to hang up on you but when your phone flashes from 3% to 2%, you tell him you don’t have much of a choice and then he’s giving you another word of caution before reluctantly hanging up. You’re all alone to your thoughts in your car again, shaking from the anxiety and blinking tears away.

The twelve-minute wait felt so long, and eventually Gojo texts you that he’s one minute away when your phone is at 1% battery. You see headlights approaching behind your car in your rearview mirror, the first sight of another human being you’ve seen in probably the past thirty minutes stepping out of the driver’s seat and you immediately recognize his silhouette. He walks up to the passenger side door and tips his head down so he’s visible through the window. At the sight of him, you finally release the breath you were holding in before opening your car door and stepping outside. You both look at each other across the top of your car and you notice him letting out a deep breath of his own as his shoulders relax at the sight of you.

He makes his way wordlessly around the front of your car to you and he’s studying your face intently. You look away from him when you realize he could probably tell that your eyes were puffy and that you had been crying. From your periphery, you see the back of his hand reach out when he’s right in front of you, hesitating slightly before it briefly brushes against your cheek, dabbing at a tear that you must’ve missed. His hand is warm against your skin and the sudden desire to hug him consumes every single fiber of your being, but when you look up at him, the soft expression on his face renders you still.

“Thank you for coming,” you’re whispering to him.

He lets out a short comical exhale through his nose. “I wasn’t going to not come. What kind of person do you think I am?”

You shiver as another gust of wind passes through, crossing your arms across yourself. Gojo slips the jacket he was wearing off, revealing a beige sweater underneath, and then he’s circling around you to place it over your back. It’s cozy and it smells like him.

You’re about to voice your concern for him but his voice behind you cuts you off. “I run warm, don’t worry.”

He walks around to the front of your car, bending over to the side to assess the flat tire at the front, his hands shoved into his pockets. You pull his jacket around you tighter. “Damn, the tread on your tires is horrendous. No wonder. You should really check on them more often.” He straightens himself up and peers at the crack across your windshield. “And that’s definitely not gonna be cheap to fix.”

You sigh in annoyance, his casual tone causing your eye to twitch slightly, but when you noticed your heart was calm and your breathing was normal again, you looked at him with the realization that him just being here managed to soothe you.

He looks back over at you with a considerate expression. “Do you want to sit in my car? It’s chilly out here.”

You press your lips together before shaking your head. “I feel like I need the fresh air.”

Gojo’s walking over to the patch of grass on the pavement at the side of the road and sits down on the curb. He pats the spot next to him with an awaiting look on his face and you make your way to him, sitting to his left. He looks down at the distance you’ve put between the two of you, almost three feet, and he’s sighing before scootching closer to you. “Don’t be greedy with your body heat. I said I run warm, not that I’m a furnace.”

His shoulder brushes against yours and his knee bumps against your thigh as he gets comfortable. You bring your legs closer to you and wrap your arms around them, resting your chin on top of your knee. Gojo was leaning back onto his outstretched arms behind him, legs extended in front as he tipped his head back up to look at the sky. You look over at him. His gaze slowly shifts from one point in the sky to the other, and you wonder what he’s mapping with his eyes.

“Thank you for getting the referee permission for me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him in person. “I’m excited to take photos out on the field next week.”

“Sure thing, my freaky little photographer. I’m sure you are,” he chimes.

You stick your bottom lip out in an annoyed pout. “So, we’re even now.”

He looks over at you and smiles. His blue eyes were a bit darker underneath the starry sky with less light to reflect off of them, and the quality made them look gentle. “No, you’ve gotta make sure Mina stays interested in Todo.”

You can tell he’s just joking, but you respond as if he’s serious anyways. “That was never part of the agreement,” you say, “besides, I don’t really think that’s necessary. She seems to be pretty taken with him already.”

He laughs. “And you’re not worried about that?”

“What’s there to worry about?” You ask.

“I don’t know, the fact they hit it off so fast?” He shrugs and you feel the friction of the movement against your shoulder.

“Hmm, no. Mina’s a smart girl, she’s good at sniffing out those red flags,” you say assuredly before lifting a suspicious eyebrow at him, “should I be worried? He's your friend. Enlighten me.”

Gojo shakes his head musingly at your concern. “Todo’s a good guy,” he says in a soft voice.

“He’s not on the soccer team, right? I didn’t see him the past couple of times I was on the field,” you say with realization.

“Nah, he’s just a mad lad I met in my freshman year econ class. We’ve been friends ever since,” he says, swaying his knee from side to side. “He’s the one that got me to join the frat.”

You two are silent for a moment, listening to the noise of the wind through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. The previous anxiety you had from the night completely dissipated into peacefulness instead, and the man beside you was responsible for that shift.

“Can you tell me what that offer was that you were so excited about earlier this week?” he asks.

You look up to the sky briefly, trying to remember what he was talking about. “Oh. I might be able to publish the photos I take of the game next week to the sports recap in the school newsletter,” you say.

He turns his head to look at you, eyes widened. “Woah, seriously? That’s so cool. Can you make sure I look hot?”

You roll your eyes and go back to resting your chin on your knees. “Sure.”

A comfortable silence settles before he’s speaking again. “What inspired you to be a film photographer?” He’s turning his body so he’s facing you a bit more directly.

“Well, the end goal is film movie making…but my professor says that it’s important to understand the art of film photography before that,” you say, twiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “He says that ‘if a filmmaker cannot master the single frame shot, then how can they possibly put together a film composed of a million of them’?”

Gojo is humming beside you and nodding in agreement. He turns away from you to face forward again and he starts tapping his foot on the pavement of the road. “Huh. That’s kind of similar to something coach says during drills.”

You glance over at him, a little surprised. He continues to stare forward with a somewhat innocent expression on his face, and then you can practically see the moment another question pops up into his head.

“Why don’t you make your Instagram public? Your photos would probably get a lot more views or likes that way,” he says in an excited tone, like he’s cracked some code.

You let out a small laugh and bury your face into your knees, your voice sounding muffled when you speak. “I did have it public for a while. Until a troll spammed a bunch of hate comments on my posts and I quickly switched it to private after that.” Saying it out loud, you felt a bit silly. You’re apprehensive as you say the next few words. “I guess I’m scared that I’m not good enough to be acknowledged or successful, and that somehow other people will see that truth before I can.”

“Oh come on, y/n,” he’s saying beside you, gently nudging your arm with his elbow. The contact causes your breath to catch in your throat. “You just have to go for it. You can’t accomplish anything if you don’t face your fears.” When you watch those words leave his mouth, you notice he now has a thoughtful expression as he stares ahead to the other side of the road.

Another beat of silence goes by. “Why did you start playing soccer?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a long time as he blinks, to the point where you’re unsure if he even heard your question, but then he finally answers. “My dad used to play in college. He introduced me to the sport when I was younger and I fell in love with it.” Your perk up slightly and tip your head to the side in curiosity. He’s looking down at his lap now.

“That’s really wonderful, Satoru. Was he also center forward in college?” When you ask him this, you don’t miss the way his eyebrows pinch together for a split second before his expression relaxes again.

“Yeah, he was,” he responds, “he got injured in his last year, though. Never got to play after that.” There’s an inflection at the end of his sentence that makes you think he’s about to say more but he doesn’t.

Your face softens when you see him stare down at the curb with a slightly troubled expression. In a moment of tenacity, you place your hand on his thigh and his eyes widen when he sees the movement before he’s looking over at you.

“I’m sure he’s really proud of you,” you say softly, your hand reaching up to brush a few strands of his hair away from his eyes. Both of you are shocked at the intimate gesture and you’re quick to withdraw your hand.

Your faces are close, his side still pressed against yours, and neither of you break eye contact. You take a moment to study the handsome features of his face and your heart aches a little. The cold air has you licking your lips and Gojo’s eyes dart to them, gaze lingering, and you blink slowly when he leans forward slightly. Blue eyes find yours again and he stills himself, searching your face for something, and when he doesn’t see it he continues to lean forward and you lean towards him too. And then his lips press against yours, so chaste and so light that it’s possible you could have imagined it, but just when you feel his warm hand cup your face and he’s about to deepen the kiss, a loud honking noise startles the two of you and you both jump, pulling away from one another. You see Gojo’s face illuminated with bright golden lighting as he winces and holds up one of his hands in front of his face to shield himself from being blinded by it.

You turn your head to the left towards the source of the light and see a tow truck approaching. “Hey! Is this the flat and windshield crack?” you hear the driver shout out from where his head was stuck out the window.

You’re speechless, cheeks feeling flushed from the realization that Gojo had just kissed you, and you turn to look at him. He silently stands up with a weary exhale and a calm expression on his face and then shoves his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, it is.” He makes his way over to the tow truck and you hear him make conversation with the driver as well as the man in the passenger seat. You’re still sitting stunned on the curb, bringing your fingers up to gently touch your lips that were still searing from earlier. Gojo’s suddenly standing in front of you and you’re staring at his legs before you tip your head back up to look at him.

“Do you have any valuables in your car?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of your car.

“Ah…my phone and my tote bag,” you say. He crouches down in front of you, earnest eyes level with yours, and his hand reaches into the pocket of his jacket where you had stashed your keys. He removes only your car key from the ring, handing the set of other keys back to you, and then he’s unlocking your car to get your stuff out of it.

You remain on the curb, watching as Gojo handles the entire interaction with the tow truck helpers. When they’ve successfully anchored your car to the tow truck and one of the men comes around to shake Gojo’s hand, you see him reach into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing the man some cash. You stand up in a bit of a panic and head over.

The tow truck is already pulling away with your car from the curb when you make it in front of Gojo. He hands you a business card with the towing company information on it and then looks down at you with a mild demeanor, letting out a long exhale. “Ready to go home? You’ve had a long night.”

Exhaustion suddenly consumes your entire being and you hesitantly nod.

The interior of Gojo’s car is nice. It’s clean, smells like him and pine, with nice leather seats that have warmers. You’re still wearing his jacket, clenching it tightly around you, as he inputs your apartment address into his GPS and starts to drive you home.

Neither of you say a word to one another during the ride. You watch his hand tighten its grip at the top of the steering wheel occasionally as he drives. He turns his car into the entrance of your apartment complex and parks in the loading zone. You watch as he makes his way out of the car to the passenger side door, opening it for you. You step outside and thank him.

“It’s okay, I’ll head inside from here,” you say, already feeling like you’ve caused him enough trouble. You abruptly remember that Mina isn’t home and the realization that you’ll be all alone tonight creates a hollow feeling in your chest.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Come on,” he says, walking past you to make his way to the elevator and pressing the up button. It dings before immediately opening and he walks inside like he’s the one that lives here. He places a hand out to hold the door sensors when he sees that you don’t follow him inside. You jump out of the mild trance you were in and quickly rush in before he withdraws his hand and the elevator door shuts.

“Which floor?” He asks, finger hovering over the control pad. You tell him three.

Once you reach the third floor, you step out into the hallway and he follows suit. Your apartment was just seven units down towards the right and the two of you eventually made it to the door. You turn around to look up at him. His expression becomes slightly distressed and when you don’t say anything to him, he shoves his hands further into his pockets and sways back and forth slightly.

“Alright, mission accomplished, I got you home,” he says with a forced jovial tone, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. You notice he does that when he seems nervous about something.

Your mind recalls the kiss from earlier, the feeling of Gojo’s lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed up against you in the cold, the tender way his hand held your face still so he could have more of you, only for it to be cut short. Your heart is beating fast in your chest and your cheeks flush with warmth. He’s looking down at you intently and you’re looking up at him pensively.

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself. Not yet.

Your hands reach into your tote bag to pull out the keys to your apartment. “Yes, home.” He watches you jingle the metal in your hands. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he says and he takes a step back. Turning around, you push your key into the keyhole with shaking hands, turning it, and open the door to your apartment, letting yourself inside. You look at him from the entryway with the door still ajar.

“Good night, take it easy,” he says to you.

“Thanks, you too.” And then he’s out of your sight as you shut the door.

You lean back against the front door, letting out a sigh and biting down on your lip, the thumping of your heart pertinent throughout your entire body. There was a lingering truth to all of the emotions that you’ve been having recently. It followed you in the early hours of the morning, it followed you as you tried to fall asleep at night, it was present in the silence, lurking in the dark, and it was there with you tonight for every second that he was by your side.

You had feelings for Gojo Satoru.

a/n. thanks sooo much for reading and i hope you enjoyed aaa idk this week felt off for my writing for some reason but i heavily edited it so i hope it came out okay in the end.

➸ take me to chapter six!

tag list: @who-can-touch-my-boob @getitsatoru

624 notes · View notes

callmerainman · 26 days

Note

in having ✨ideas✨ again, and this one’s very fluffy

could we maybe have a sinner! adam oneshot where the reader plays a mandolin and decides one day to play this song in a very low key attempt to impress romance the guy? and maybe adam’s all like “yeah it’s alright I guess” but he’s totally transparent.

please, and thank you

SHOW AND TELL | sinner!Adam x sinner!Reader

word count. 1.7k

tags. Adam being in denial, Reader plays mandolin, fluff, sinner!Adam, gn!sinner!Reader

a/n. aaaa sorry for taking so long! hope you'll enjoy this because the prompt was so cute and funny 😭

This could be a chance.

You rotate the wooden instrument between your hands. A mandolin, your musical companion for so many years. You would have never thought that one day you'd be using it for trying to pick up someone. Especially not the First Man, Adam.

It's "Show and Tell" night at the Hazbin Hotel. The monthly occurrence you never understood, because no one really ever showed anything worth talking about. Angel Dust would put on some of his old porn videocassettes, Husk a cheap bottle of booze that he'll come up with a story for right on the spot, and let's not talk about the time Cherri Bomb showed one of her most recent, newly advanced creations that almost blew the whole Hotel up to pieces.

Also, the last couple of months, Show and Tell night has been graced with the addition of Adam. When he set foot in the Hotel it was clear that he still didn't really believe in Charlie's project. He just didn't have any other options. But, after some time, a hint of comfort was starting to show on the arrogant fallen angel. He became tamer, more sufferable to be around, almost pleasing sometimes. At first, you thought that you would have never had anything to share with Adam. But then conversations started to flow in the common rooms, and you two started to hang out outside the Hotel, even opening up to each other.

Adam wasn't that bad. Adam was funny to be around. Adam was easy to talk to. And Adam was pretty and...

Oh. Oh!

You crushed hard. Denial was the first stage, because c'mon, that's Adam, the former leader of the Extermination, a sadistic bastard. But he was also the one to greet you first when you came down for breakfast in the morning, who sat next to you at dinner to have some small talk, and the one who laughed more at your jokes. You learned to accept your feelings, but then a new problem presented itself. How exactly do you pull Adam?

He was more interesting than you thought that you could ever be. Not to inflate his ego, but he was the First Man to ever be created. He named the animals of Earth, he has been around for so long that he has seen it all. And he had two knock out ex-wives! How could you even compete? He played the guitar and was in a rock band in Heaven. But then, remembering that information, you glanced over at the wooden mandolin hung up to a hook on the right wall of your Hotel room. Maybe Adam didn't like you, but he for sure liked music. And mandolin wasn't exactly his type of instrument, but you still had music on your side. Yeah, this could be a chance.

——

You and the other guests take a seat each on the couches and chairs of the common room. Adam is sitting right in front of you, your eyes interlocked for a second before you both look away. Geez your cheeks feel hot. Then here comes Charlie, waltzing in the middle of the circle traced by the seats, smiling happily as she announces Show and Tell night. She suggests Angel to go first.

"I hope it's something a little...different from your usual presentations" she proposes.

Angel cocks an eyebrow upwards "No miss, this is exactly what you're all thinking of".

Husk groans, dragging a paw down his face as Angel puts on one of his porn movies he starred in. You look everywhere but the screen, and this includes Adam. He's not paying attention, playing with his VPhone behind his crossed legs so that Vaggie won't notice and threaten him with her angelic spear. As you throw him quick glances throughout the night, you realize that he quite literally didn't pay attention to anyone, not even a second. Concern starts to build up in you. What if he doesn't even look at you?

Adam only intervenes when it's his turn, positioning himself in the middle of the circle with a loud sigh. He then rummages in his robe, and takes out his designated object.

"A bra?!" Cherri Bomb asks.

"Yeah" a sly smirk spreads on Adam's face "this is the first bra a chick ever threw at me during a show. The first of many, many bras"

"How the fuck did you even bring it down here?" you question, more worried about that circumstance than the origin of the underwear article.

"You don't know my ways" Adam replies.

He keeps rambling some more minutes about how he broke Heaven's record for bras thrown on stage, with the smuggest, biggest shit-eating smirk known to man. After he's done, he plops down on the couch again, ready to not listen to anything the next guests have to show. And he does, either by taking a nap or playing on his phone.

"It's your turn, (Y/N)!" Charlie announces, clasping her hands together.

Shit. You reach for the case resting near your ankles. You open up the hard cover and take out your wooden mandolin.

"You play instruments?" Angel Dust asks, surprised.

"Yeah, I practice everyday" you say.

Of course no one knew, because Adam always has his rock music and amps blasted on max and he obliterates the hell out of any sound from your Hotel floor.

"I used to play mandolin when I was alive, it was my first instrument. I thought that I might as well bring it down here with me".

"C'mon, play something!" Charlie encourages you, a bright smile sparkling on her adoring face.

Here comes the difficult part. You gulp, feeling your guts squeezing from nervousness. Because Adam is staring. Since Charlie called your name, you noticed that Adam had put down his phone and he's now actually paying attention to you, unlike how he did with everyone else. This is sending you over the edge. Out of embarrassment and excitement at the same time. Damn butterflies in the stomach. You just hope to not mess this up.

You stroke the chords with your thumb to make sure they're correctly tuned. You shoot Adam a quick glance. Still staring at you, nonchanlanty, but he's watching. Just like you planned. You take a deep breath, you position your hands correctly and then you start playing the mandolin. The tune is relaxed, dreamy, mesmerising as you pluck the strings with ease. Your fingers almost flow with the sounds coming out of the instrument. You make sure not to mess anything up. Your technique is flawless, so there shouldn't be any worry. What's worrisome is trying not to look at Adam too much. You do give him a few glances to check for any reaction, but this could lead to missing pieces. You take a deep breath and go on strumming. Finally, despite Adam's wanted but feared attention, you manage to relax and let the sweet serenade curl around the room. As the delicate melody unfurls, you notice Adam shifting, placing his chin in his palm as he gives you his undivided attention. Then, you signal the end of the tune by finger picking a calm, lingering chord progression. The second you put the mandolin down, an excited clapping of hands makes you jump on the spot.

"Bravo! Bravo! That was amazing, (Y/N)!" Charlie erupts.

You chuckle "Thanks, Charlie"

Your gaze shifts from Charlie to Adam. He was still staring, but something's different. Is he blushing? Are his pupils dilated? Or maybe is just the result of your delusional imagination. Maybe not, because even someone else noticed Adam's change in attitude.

"Sooo, Adam, whatcha think?" Angel Dust cooes, a pointy smirk curling on his face.

Adam snaps out of his state, his eyes shooting up at Angel.

"Uh?" he goes, defiant but at the same time confused.

"You seemed to reaaaally enjoy it" Angel inquires.

Adam's eyebrows shoot upwards, his lips tight and reduced to a thin line. Oh he's blushing.

"I ehm-" he stutters.

"Right!" Charlie is quick to interrupt him "What did you think about it, Adam? Share it with us!"

Adam looks at you for a brief moment. You don't say anything, you're probably as embarrassed as him. He breaks eye contact, scoffing.

"Yeah I don't know, whatever" he mumbles, crossing his arms in an attempt to look unimpressed.

His own body is betraying him. His foot rythmically tapping on the floor, his heart racing, his scrunched, nervous face and his cheeks now turned into a hot mess.

"You sure? Seems like Cupid hit you in the right spot" Angel elbows Cherri Bomb, who giggles "Your face looks as hot as me"

Adam grits his teeth, clenching his fingers around his clothed arms.

"Yeah!" Cherri Bomb intervenes "you need a hand? A cup of water? Some air? (Y/N), you broke this guy!"

Adam jumps in his own seat, pointing a furious finger towards Cherri and Angel who are laughing their asses off.

"Cupid didn't hit shit! I said that I don't give a flying fuck about (Y/N) and how fucking good they look when they play mand-FUCK!"

"Ooooh" Angel and Cherri sing song in unison, a devilish grin.

"Aww, Adam! That's so sweet of you!" Charlie chirps, genuinely proud of him.

Adam lets out a frustrated, anger-boiling growl before hurriedly getting up from his seat. His newly sprout horns grow bigger, his tail quivers and his wings puff. He starts to hysterically point at everyone in the room.

"You know what? Fuck this shit! Fuck this stupid Show and Tell night, fuck this Hotel, and fuck you, and you, and you, and fuck everybody! Except (Y/N)- no wait shit!"

And then, Adam punches the air and just storms off, leaving Angel and Cherri Bomb laughing behind him.

"Oh my God..." you whisper, incredulous as you rub your shoulders up and down with your hands.

Angel gets up and plops down on the couch next to you, leaning towards you with a smug grin.

"I dunno why would you hit that, but good job" he says, offering your a fist bump.

You let out a small chuckle before pounding Angel's fist.

Nailed it.

#hazbin hotel #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel adam #adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #vivziepop #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x you #adam hazbin #hazbin adam #adam fanfiction

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milgram-tournament · 4 months

Text

MILGRAM Best Song Tournament, Round 1, Match 7 BACKDRAFT vs. IT'S NOT MY FAULT

Propaganda for both options under the cut!

Propaganda for BACKDRAFT:

"Backdraft may be a minute shorter than Bring It On, but it’s still over three minutes long, and it makes up for the lost minute with a complex form. The “Pressure! Pressure!” might be the only part that truly repeats.

At the beginning, Fuuta is showing off, acting cool. Then the music slows down as he ponders his verdict. Then the music picks up the pace again and gets more and more frantic as the consequences of his actions catch up to him.

See that structure in the three distinct verses that sound nothing like anything else in the song: cool, contemplative, and “oh no, what have I done”.

The “chorus” (burn burn!) never stays the same. You’ve got the “cool” first chorus. Then you have the muted second chorus as it sinks in that Fuuta’s victim was a middle-school girl, which leads into the tense final chorus (which is twice as long as the first) as the victim and Fuuta both burn.

The instrumental and the spoken-word from the beginning combine in the end, changing the mood of the stanza from confident and showy to panicked and desperate.

And the words… You can hear the wordplay in the last stanza, even if you don’t understand it.

Appreciate this chaotic masterpiece of a song."

---

- Fuuta being very cocky at first before realizing how fucked he is (it is kinda funny) - The use of spray cans and overall graffiti symbolism, it’s so good - The multiple eyes and people off camera showing how paranoid Fuuta has become, it’s really well done without being obvious - The name backdraft meaning when a fire deprived of oxygen gets a sudden influx of it. A kind of metaphor for what Fuuta did. Then it being shown through a spray can explosion, aaaa it’s really cool! - Fuuta’s overall look changing, being more realistic on how he actually looks contrasting Bring It On’s idealistic version of himself - Es at the end!! The only time Es shows up in a prisoner’s MV!!! And they looks so damn cool - Also the entire eye thing referencing the audience, he perceives us lmfao

---

"Back draft is incredible because it not only has great visual symbolism with the use of the spray cans but its visual symbolism shows a progression from ‘Bring it on’. In ‘Bring it on’ the channelling is glorious , fuuta is surrounded by people and fuuta idealised himself (taller , better teeth , better posture ect) , the people he cancelled were portrayed as these powerful rpg monsters but now in back now the channelling is portrayed as vandalism a crime as destructive , the ally is empty we only ever see others as hands or his victim fuuta is alone and fuuta is no longer idealising his appearance and his mind is now portraying his victim as a harmless cutesy drawing. This shows a change in how fuuta views his crime between T1 and T2. It wasn’t glorious, it wasn't justified , he was at fault. The fire being recontextsied as something out of control , all consuming and out of control which is the opposite of how it was portrayed in ‘Bring it on’ we really see how the vote has changed fuuta."

"There are so many things in the song that show a progression "

-“ deliciously scorched till your mouth waters” > “I don’t want any more”

-fuuta spray paints the camera hen as the end es spray paints him/the camera

-the pressure graffiti changing

"There’s so many interesting details like the applause towards the start of the song , the personality in the subtitles like them going from “Burn , burn!” To “burn , burn?” But the pressure’s punctuation mark stayed the same: “pressure , pressure!” , the way FIRE is the only word in full caps till LIES. The thumbs down fuuta does during “the fights up here! Come up to the ring and face me!” Part which is like his T1 art , the way the lighting changes from green towards the start and becomes red by the end (stop go colours) , The way fuuta is constantly interacting with the camera , spray painting it twice and kicking it."

"Backdraft actually makes amazing use of the camera , things are often shown from the (camera)audience’s perspective rather than us seeing the events removed. We are there like we are the ones doing it/looking through the eyes of the person doing it. When fuuta/the others spray paint the graffiti of his victim and the ice gorilla it's from the audience’s perspective , we don’t see them do it, we see it like we are doing it. When the spraypaint can explodes it's like it’s exploding in our face and then when es spray paints fuuta at the end they are spray painting the camera(audience). "

"Backdraft makes the most references to the voting system and uses it well to make the audience re-examine if they really are any different. Aren’t we using little information and inferences to hold people accountable for crimes we have no stake in? Aren’t we causing unintended harm? Aren’t we judging them from the safety of our screens? "

"And on a more silly level"

-ARTHUR CONANT GOES SO HARD IN THE VOCALS!!!! COME ON LISTEN TO BURN BURN AND TELL ME THIS MAN ISN’T GIVING IT HIS ALL!

-cat mouth fuuta :3 how can you not love cat mouth fuuta?

-lowpolydog designed amazing graffiti

Propaganda for IT'S NOT MY FAULT:

"It's Not My Fault is a beautiful song with a REALLY good song texture. Arisa Kori/Muu's voice is literally so amazing here, fitting perfectly with that confident and snarky appearance that Muu seems to want to give off. And just everything about it????? Muu did everything wrong free my girl- I love her bug design here, the pure drama of it and how she showcases Rei as a human in the bug world is so cool."

---

inmf!! have you heard the instrumental?! its just so good!!

the way rei turns the hourglass at the beginning!!! and it switches to when muu was at the top of the hierarchy!!!! that was such a cool detail!!!

BUG MUU IS LITERALLY SO CUTE. her smile at 1:19 🥺🥺

The way her voice drops at 1:30 and her 'KAWAISO NANO!!' at 1:51!!!

shes having so much fun while singing this weeeeeee

she's always pitiful!! shes always the drama queen 🥺🥺

please her getting the worst ratio while singing the 'im not guilty' song should alone be the reason she wins

---

"INMF is what got me into Milgram in the first place so of course I have to shill for it. I think its one of my favorite MVs Visually as the scenes set in the bug-web location are so visually striking. Muu and the rest of the bugs dark-purple skin and Muu's and neon pink hair stand out so much against it and it's so Pretty and Vibrant.

Storytelling wise INMF is amazing, it's a complete 180 of how Muu is seen in After Pain but not to the point where it feels like Muu is a totally different character. Muu is both a genuine victim and (in my opinion) a failgirl queen. She's trying her best to keep the image up but she is...NOT good at being a manipulative mastermind. And like After Pain before it, you can figure that out just through the visual and lyrical storytelling, that to some extent this is Still Also a Role Muu is Playing.

It's good! It's really good stuff! Muu is a character of cycles and After Pain and INMF work really well as a cyclical story about bullying. I think Muu should Win on having Good Storytelling and Fantastic Visuals and Being a Worst Girl. You should do it for all the girls in the world who are the Worst."

#milgram #milgramtournament #fuuta kajiyama #kajiyama fuuta #muu kusonoki #kusonoki muu #(holy shit you guys wrote whole essays for backdraft god bless)#(one of these days im gonna forget to set the poll to a week)

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raesoreos · 1 year

Text

doll || itoshi rin

rin itoshi x f! reader

content : dark content, doll maker! rin, drugs, yandere! rin, stalking, non-con (recording), masturbation, obsessive behavior, non-con elements, manipulation

AHHH MY FIRST TIME WRITING A FANFIC !! hope yall rin enjoyers like it ;)

minors dni !

———————————————————————

perfect

oh how rin thinks that word perfectly suits you.

the perfect strokes that god has laid upon you when he created you. only he can understand this kind of art.

rin spent most of the time creating the most perfect doll. but he just can’t. he always thought that maybe the perfect woman also has her own flaws?

until he met you

at first he thought he was hallucinating. he’s not. he never saw anything more perfect than his doll. you are just perfect.

the first time he laid his eyes on you is at his usual cafe. you’re a new person who just moved into his hometown.

your flawless features said it all. your delicate hair. your shiny eyes. how can’t he resist you ? the moment he saw you, he wanted you all by himself

you found him interesting. you loved dolls and he is a doll maker. he created dolls just for you. everytime he assembled the dolls in his workshop, it reminds them of you.

a doll. no. his doll

you enjoyed your time being around him. he frequently brought you to his workshop just to show you his doll collections. it was beautiful. it was ethereal.

you took one of the dolls from his rack. the features remind you of yourself. your hair, your (e/c) eyes and everything are the same. it creeped you out for a second but shrugged it off.

having you in his workshop is a dream for rin.

you have weird dreams recently. being tied up to a table and your limbs were disassembled. only to be replaced by newer ones. you heard a man’s whisper in your dreams

“ oh my. my doll. don’t hesitate. i’m trying to patch up things for you “

you woke up. it was a nightmare.

what kind of sin have u commited to the point that you’re having this kind of dream ?

you wondered as you look at the dolls rin gave to you. you put them in front of your bed

little do you know, he saw everything.

you pleasured yourself at night. but you were never alone. he was watching you.

he was turned on by your actions. he grabbed his veiny cock and pumped it while seeing you pleasuring yourself. he whined. you really are a perfect being. your holy pussy. he really wanna pound his cock inside you. he pounded faster and faster. imagining it was inside your hole and he almost reached his limit.

“fuck i-im n-ngh gonna c-cum ah!” rin moaned and cummed. white strings came out from his tip.

you cummed at the same time and your moans were music to his ears. he saw you passed out on your bed.

imagine how amazing it felt if you can do it with him instead

you cannot sleep for the next few days. you don’t want to experience the same dream over and over again.

you don’t want to be tortured in your dreams. your sleeping schedule is important. but you rather choose to burn in hell than having those dreams again

until that one point, you passed out at the cafe with rin. everyone at the cafe looked at you. rin panicked and brought you to his house.

when you and rin arrived at his house, he smirked sinisterly to himself.

he put some of hallucination drugs he bought to make you dreamt about him. he wanted you to make you submit yourself for him.

but it seems you don’t want to lose. but here you are. with the doll master himself.

“ looks like i need to fix my broken doll “ he thought

aaaa literally my first time hope u guys like it 😭

#blue lock smut #blue lock #itoshi rin #itoshi rin smut #rin itoshi #rin itoshi smut #yandere #yandere blue lock #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #bllk x reader

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sommerflue-22 · 11 months

Note

Hii! I really love your work there 💓 Tokito Childhood Crush was def a good idea and a sweet treat. I was wondering if you could write a sequel of what happened to them after meeting up in the library and then hanging out and starting going out on dates here and there? I also wanted Reader to catch up with Yuichiro cause it's been so long and after clearing what's up and all, they kinda hang out and stuff! I did not know I needed this until I read it it was honestly just so cute! 💗💗

A/n: aaaa thank you sm >.< honestly, i was thinking like 'ah i shouldn't leave it hanging like this' when i wrote the ending. i even contemplated whether i should make this a longer story and cross post it on ao3. but i'm glad you left a request so here we go!

──────────────────────────────────────────

Starting Over | Muichiro Tokito

Sequel to Childhood Crush

Featuring: Aged up!Muichiro, aged up!Yuichiro

Content Warning: gn!reader, modern setting, fluff, profanities, not beta read

Word Count: 1.6k

──────────────────────────────────────────

Meeting your childhood crush after years of not talking to each other was something you didn't expect to happen.

Meeting your childhood crush after years of not talking to each other, then went out on countless of dates with him? Never in a million years would you expect that.

Muichiro took you out for a coffee and you both got busy catching up with each other. Muichiro did go to the same university as you, majoring in Music. That's why you've never seen him around before. He was cooped up inside the art department building, practicing until late at night.

You also found out that Yuichiro was supposed to go there as well, but changed his mind last minute and moved to another city. He was studying to become a PE teacher. As expected from Yuichiro. You remembered him running around the school during recess and PE.

You thought your interest in Muichiro was long gone. You always thought that you only remembered him as a childhood crush, someone you couldn't possibly fall for the second time. But boy, were you wrong.

Muichiro was as calm as you remembered, but he had grown so much. You couldn't help but admire his pretty face every time you went out with him. You liked to watch as his slender fingers wrapped around his cup of coffee. You adored the way he wrapped his arm around your shoulder when you both crossed the street, or when he was holding the umbrella as the two of you pushed through the rain to get to a bar.

"I... would like to start over with you, if you don't mind." Muichiro said one night, when the two of you were having dinner in an Italian restaurant. (Again, Muichiro paid for your meal.) It was your nth date, nearly six months after you met him in the library. Yet, you still wondered when did Muichiro start speaking so straightforwardly.

"Ah..." You put your fork down and folded your hands on the table. "...and what will your objective be?"

"Pursuing a romantic relationship with you, of course." Muichiro mimicked your gesture and leaned forward. "If it works then I'll be your bo—no, I'll be your partner. And, if things really, really, work out... then..."

You raised an eyebrow, definitely interested.

"I see." You smiled. "Damn, you really are a man now, aren't you, Mui?"

Muichiro laughed. "I learned a thing or two from Yui. He was a real casanova back in high school. But I'm serious about what I said. If you're down, then we can try it out and date each other. If you're not, then we can be just friends."

You tilted your head from one side to another. Sure, at that point, you've already went out on countless of dates with Muichiro. You were sure he didn't change much, except for the cursing, the smooth talking he adopted from Yuichiro, and of course his appearance. He was still the soft and kind Muichiro you knew, but older and more mature.

"Alright." You finally spoke up. "Yeah, let's do this."

Muichiro let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, covering his face with his hands. "Oh my God, I really thought you were going to reject me."

"I thought you're fine with being friends?"

"Well, yeah, but I prefer to be your partner."

There were no butterflies in your stomach, but you felt your chest grew warm. That's when you kind of figured out, it wasn't just some silly crush. You actually felt safe and content with this new relationship.

Having Muichiro as your partner felt like a fresh air in your hectic uni life. Yes, you two were busy bees, always had something in your schedule. However, you were glad that you could still hang out with Muichiro pretty often. Sometimes, he stopped by your dorm with some take out food, reminding you to eat even when you're drowning in assignments and lab reports.

You used to spend your time doing assignments in the library or in your dorm room. Once you knew Muichiro practiced violin in a small, individual practice room, you preferred going there. You mostly listen to classical pieces as you work, anyway.

You both still went out on dates, going to a restaurant or watch a movie if there was something worth to watch. Your favorite activity to do was hanging out in Muichiro's apartment, talking about anything and everything while you eat dinner. Especially on Saturdays, because it became a routine for you to stay the night.

You loved sleeping with Muichiro because even though you were so close to each other, you still had space to move around. Muichiro only cuddled with you until he fell asleep, humming a random melody from the piece he was working on as he pressed his lips on your forehead. After he drifted off, he would usually scoot away.

One day you woke up in the morning and found that Muichiro was already up. He wasn't next to you, but you could hear him out in the living room. You decided to go to him and ask for your morning kiss.

Muichiro smiled when he saw you walked out of the bedroom. He was on the sofa, talking with someone through his phone. Muichiro stretched out his one arm, motioning you to come closer. You groggily straddled his laps and snuggled up on the crook of his neck, sighing in delight. You always loved how warm Mui was.

"Yeah, just let me know when you're almost here. (Y/N) is here. They just woke up." Muichiro planted a soft kiss on top of your head. "Ah, too bad. Could've been an interesting double date."

You raised your head and frowned. What double date?

"Alright, see you." Muichiro hung up the call and shifted his focus entirely to you. "Good morning."

"Who was it?" You croaked out.

"Ah, that was... Yui. Apparently he's back in town for the weekend. So, he's coming over." Muichiro said.

"Dang..." You huffed, hiding your face back in Mui's neck. "We should get ready. He's coming over soon?"

"Yup. Go freshen up. I'll make the breakfast."

You entrusted Muichiro with breakfast as you showered. Muichiro couldn't cook, so you were quite sure that he was reheating the bagels you bought last night and brew some coffee. You were right.

Yuichiro arrived not long after you finished your breakfast. Muichiro opened the door for him and you watched as the twins interacted with each other. Muichiro was fit, but Yuichiro was ripped. Muichiro told you he was in the kendo club and worked out every day.

"Hi, (Y/N)!"

To your surprise, Yuichiro offered you a fist bump—which you returned.

"Hello!" You sheepishly greeted him. Muichiro stood next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissed your cheek.

"It's been such a long time since I saw you!" Yuichiro said. "Glad to finally find out who you actually like, though."

Your face grew red and Muichiro clicked his tongue. "Stop teasing them. I'll kick your shin, you dick."

"I'll break your violin, you ass." Yuichiro retorted.

You were taken aback by the way the two bantered, but laughed anyway. The image of the past, Tokito twins being innocent kids was completely erased from your mind.

Yuichiro ended up hanging out with the two of you the whole day. You three went out to grab lunch, then randomly decided to play bowling. After dinner, Yuichiro excused himself as he had to go to their parents' house.

"It's really nice meeting you again, (Y/N)." Yuichiro said. "Next time I'll bring my partner over so we can go play bowling, the four of us."

"Sure! Take care, Yui!" You waved as he walked away. Yeah, he finally let you call him Yui.

"Wanna go back to my place?" Mui offered, holding your hand.

"Alright, I don't wanna climb up three flights of stairs to reach my dorm room."

You let Muichiro held your hand, dragging you towards his car. He opened the door for you and put a hand above your head as you slid in, not wanting you to hit your head. After you were seated comfortably, he leaned forward to help you with your seatbelt.

"I got it, Mui." You giggled.

He didn't listen. He clicked the seatbelt into its place before turning his head to you. You smiled at him, having no clue why he looked at you a little bit different.

"What's wrong, Mui—"

The next thing you knew, he closed the gap between the two of you as he crashed his lips against yours. You were taken aback, but you kissed him back. He cupped your face with one hand, the other roamed down to your shoulder and arm before taking your hand in his. He pulled away, kissing along your jaw and ended up sucking on a spot behind your ear. You gripped his hand tightly, which made him chuckled.

Mui pecked your lips once again and kissed the back of your hand that he's holding. His mint green eyes were staring straight into your soul.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, Mui."

He smiled widely and closed the door. You watched as he quickly circled the car and got behind the steering wheel.

"What was that for?" You asked him.

"Hmm? Oh," Mui shrugged, "I just love you so much."

"Hmm..."

"...and I'm glad to know that you chose me over Yui, back then."

You rolled your eyes and snorted. "Yeah, no shit. I barely spoke with him."

Mui just shook his head and hit the gas slowly, driving the car away from the bowling alley's parking lot.

──────────────────────────────────────────

A/n: idk should i make this into an entire new story in ao3? idk idk idk it's kinda tempting but idk

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer fanfic #tokito twins #tokito yuichiro #tokito muichiro #muichiro x y/n #muichiro x reader #fluff #friends to lovers #childhood crush #modern setting #aged up characters

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ruershrimo · 5 months

Note

HEEEYYYAAA SWEETHEART

so I saw your Christmas event thingy and wanted to request a #13 with lyney x reader, preferably fluff but not like overly fluff so it becomes cringe (I sound bitchy I'm sorry😭)

Anyways congrats on 2 years on the blog,don't forget to eat and drink, mwah mwah(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

the christmas mix | #13- baby it’s cold outside | lyney x reader

event masterlist

features lyney

notes: hiii<33!! thank you so much for requesting (and for being the first one too!!) aaaa!! anw I’m so sorry this came so late but I wanted to write something a bit longer (to be honest, I still feel like this one’s pretty incomplete, so I may write a part 2 for it!! I just didn’t want to take too much time so I just want to give this to you first.) and I really wanted it to be good because you seem so sweet aaaa <333. but ANYWAY thank you so much and have a merry christmas, mwah!! lmk if you need a rewrite of this and my apologies if there’s not enough (?) fluff (??) or if it's too short!!

warnings: none, except for the fact that it's fem reader, really (I hope that's okay!!)

summary: (set before the current events of the game) it's in the winter of his first show at the opera epiclese that he meets you. you think you may be falling for this stranger, this all-too-busy magician. it's alright if either of you have to go, though, the two of you can stay together-- it's too cold outside, after all.

The first time you meet him, the both of you are young and he’s a nameless stranger you meet at a friend’s party. You hit it off with him and glass bottles clink against each other before you bring the rim of yours to your lips and sip your fonta.

“So, what brings you here?” you ask the stranger before you. He’s a new, unheard-of magician, you’ve been told. You think he’s the epitome of what magic should be in a world of surging elemental powers and mythical beings— a perfect mix of misdirection and secrets— with all his charm and mystery, and that little bit of dramatic flair he uses to present himself.

“My sister and I were invited to perform, it seems,” he explains, taking his own sips in, “And you?”

“Invited? Why, I just waltzed my way in like most of the others. Do you think I’ll be seeing you up there later, then, Mister…”

“Lyney. Mister Lyney.”

“…Mister Lyney.”

“And you won’t be seeing me, anyway. I’ve told the host that my sister and I must attend to some urgent business concerning our first show at the Opera Epiclese tomorrow.”

“Hm,” you hum, “The Opera Epiclese, huh? Glad to know I’m speaking to a future big shot. Remember me when your tickets are worth every gem and mora in Fontaine, won’t you? I don’t think I’ll be able to steal each and every one to see you again.”

“Of course,” he grins, “And you won’t have to steal anything, I promise. Nothing would be worth as much as you.”

“You’ve a penchant for words, I see. And here I thought budding magicians were often shyer than this…”

“Our introduction to being in the limelight would not change my occasional sharing of the truth. Then he lays his bottle down on the table, and it’s silent and so very unlike how you thought he would based off your initial impressions of him, and so very different from how anyone else would after drinking fonta. He sets it down quietly, stealthily, as if if he were to clash any louder against the wooden table’s surface he would dart out of the host’s house while the liquid in the bottle barely moves, appearing like creases on a red velvety tablecloth. “But!” he exclaims, “Now I really must get going—”

His voice is like a twinkle out of a music box, its melody even better than the one bursting out of your friend’s gramophone; his eyes are like a velvet coat that pair well with his cheshire cat-like smile; his hair is silky as it is silvery and you want to run your fingers through it.

So you don’t want him to go.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Well, the magician’s life just so happens to be a busy one, dear [name]—“

“Oh? Mr Lyney, I don’t recall having ever told you my name,” you remark, quirking up a brow and holding him by the wrist as he begins to get up.

The mister giggles, “I’ve heard of you before, of course. Our host informed me of who you were— and so did everybody else at this lovely soirée. Why, who hasn’t heard of the eccentric, renowned [name]? But I really should get going.”

“Oh, but won’t you stay? It’s just so dreadfully cold out and it would be a shame if you and your sister were to get sick from the winter winds right before your grand show. Goodness, I’ve heard of the severity of all the snow and hail these days, and even some of my acquaintances have nearly succumbed to hypothermia due to it all!”

He feigns a sigh, his voice like velvet wrapping around your eyes and ears and engulfing your senses, as he sits down again as you keep a firm grip on his wrist, “Well I hope they’re well into a good recovery, [name], but Lynette and I have the thickest coats and a great tolerance for the cold due to our brief time in Snezhnaya a few years ago—”

You pry a little further. “What got you into Snezhnaya, Mister?”

“Oh, please, that’s certainly a story for another day—” he starts again, taking hold of his hat.

“Well even if you wouldn’t like to tell me, Mr Lyney, I must know everything I can about you— everything you’d like me to know— in these few minutes you still have. So, please stay?”

He sighs again, freeing his hat and his coat. “Alright, since you’ve been such lovely company, perhaps I’ll just stay for one more sip.”

“Perhaps you could stay for one more bottle?” you cheekily suggest.

“Five more sips.”

“Please, just one more bottle…” you suggest again, “And come rain or shine I’ll be sure to come for all your future shows, whether they be in the Epiclese or not. Your first one’s tomorrow, right?”

“…you, my dear friend, have a deal.”

You laugh, “That took more convincing than I thought it would.”

“Well you’re definitely persistent as you are eccentric,” he comments, digging into his pocket to reveal a deck of cards, “Now, allow me to show you a magic trick as we chat through our next bottle…”

—

“Didn’t think you’d be the Casanova type,” Lynette jabs as he finally exits the building, “So you just left [name] there as she kept talking to you?”

“Well, you know how things are,” he says.

He already knows he can’t afford this. He’d been honing his magic for years from the streets to the halls of nobles’ houses to their rooms in the House of the Hearth for the sake of Father’s cause. If he were to let just anyone in, if he were to fall back from that tower of deception and secrecy and let it topple, then—

“I’m sure that Father would be alright,” she states, a knowing, teasing lilt in her voice, “We won’t even be that late.”

—

There are a handful of things you know about him by the second time you meet. That he used to perform solely on the streets and was then offered the chance to have a show at the Opera Epiclese after gradually gaining renown over the years; that like the cats he adores, he likes fish dishes; that he and his sister have a younger brother.

The hall itself seems empty, the hues of each chair blurring together to form a sea of gold and red.

“Why, it seems we meet again!” a voice echoes from behind you, then softer, it goes, “You’re earlier than I thought you’d be, though. And in the front seat.”

“I know,” you smile, torso twisted, “I wanted to be extra early. And don’t ask how I got to the front seat, would you?”

(In truth, you’d purchased it from someone who wouldn’t be available and was selling their front seat ticket at a much lower price than it should have been. No theft had occurred.)

He moves in front of you. “To talk to me once more, I assume?”

You pause and hum, tilting your head in an acted-out thought process. “Of course.”

“Well,” he starts, “I still have more things to get ready backstage, and more props and tricks to prepare, so I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, go ahead—”

He panics. “—But it’s you, so I’ll make some time. About five minutes, possibly— in truth, I do have a trick for you, dear [name],” he says, the words pouring out of him like a magician’s trick of pulling out an infinite number of differently coloured silks sewn together from his pocket.

You lean forward in interest, and you try not to notice the barely audible gasp threat’s pulled from his lungs as he almost unwillingly backs away, then schools himself again. Maybe you were leaning in too much? “Show me, then,” you say.

“Alright, then,” he begins, “I have a flower in my hands, and—oh? It’s disappeared!” he narrates, the sun-coloured flower vanishing with a flick of his hand.

You raise a brow.

“Now, have you noticed anything near your ear?”

“My ear—?” Then to your surprise, you feel something tickling at the skin between your scalp and your ear, finding a whole stem tucked behind it. You pluck the flower away, bringing it to your nose and inhaling its scent. “Well, wouldn’t you know.”

He giggles, “Do you like it?”

“I do,” you reply, “I just thought you would’ve used a rainbow rose instead. But I love marcottes, too— they have such a sweet, light scent. Marcottes symbolise purity and sincere care,” you recite from a book you’d read, “And rainbow roses… well.”

“Why, I’ve never learned of the language of flowers before,” he remarks, “…but I can start.”

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t want you to take up too much of your time— a magician’s life is a busy one, no?”

“I suppose we all have to trade the time we have for something we care about no matter how little of it we have.”

“Hm, I suppose so. Now, go—! Ten minutes have passed, mister!”

“Oh—? But I’ve one more thing I need to say, dear [name],” he hurries, taking your hand and lightly pecking it, then letting his lips go and keeping your hands together, “You should stay later. It’s too cold outside for anyone to leave, but… if you need it, once everyone has left, you’re always welcome to stay and bask in the heating the Epiclese provides. Lynette and I will have to stay here for a while after, anyway.”

You grin at his invitation— or his request, maybe. “I will.”

“And, Lyney?” you call right as he turns back to face you again. “You’re always welcome to visit me in my own home.”

You scribble your address on a piece of paper as people start to trickle in. It’s as if there are half as many people as there should be. It’s a sour thought, and, hopefully, in his next show, there’ll be more people.

The marcotte is tucked tightly between your index finger and thumb for the whole show. You bring its petals to your lips when the show is over.

You hand the paper to Lyney after and you praise his show as you bid him farewell. You leave only a second earlier than he does with Lynette in tow.

—

In the frigid winter weather, Lyney heads out, shivering, and buys a bouquet of rainbow roses as well as a book on the floral language of Fontaine.

—

The show actually turns out to be a smashing success among the people who had watched it. The names Lyney and Lynette appear on the Steambird three days after the show, and you have the pleasure of reading an article about it, with details on a trick involving water and fireworks, written by one journalist Charlotte.

The same day you read it, you open your door to see a bouquet of rainbow roses near your doorstep, hoisted and kept upright by the edge of the door and the wall.

You wonder how they could have stayed alive without freezing, but you take it in. You already know who it’s from, even though there’s no name, no address— nothing. Nothing besides a note in elegant, cursive handwriting, saying “Thank you for coming.”

A dig through your house finally reveals an old vase of your parents’, a gorgeous, transparent vase of glass with patterns of roses embellishing it near the bottom that you trace with your fingers. You fill it with some tap water, remove the wrapping around the flowers, and place them in the vase.

They rest near your bed and though the days are getting colder your heart warms at the sight of them every morning.

So as it gets cold outside you think you’re falling for the all-too-busy magician, with his mystery and his tricks and his beautiful silver hair and violet eyes.

You ought to invite him sometime during Christmas. And hopefully you can keep him for a while, too, as the fireplace crackles. It’ll be too cold outside, anyway.

event taglist (please send an ask if you'd like to be added!):

wishing everyone a merry christmas ♡!

#thank you for requesting!!#and thank you for requesting <3!! this was my first one so I was so happy haha #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #lyney x reader #genshin lyney x reader #lyney #genshin lyney #genshin impact lyney #genshin impact lyney x reader #ruer writes #genshin impact #ruer's 2023 xmas event!#genshin impact x female reader #genshin x fem!reader smau #genshin x female reader #genshin impact x fem!reader #lyney x fem!reader #lyney x female reader

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thatgothsamurai · 1 year

Note

I love your mermaid au! Could you draw Vegas or Kim in the AU? Or could you draw a Chay & Vegas interaction? I would love to see that in your style but you don't have to I don't want to be a pest.

Also, is it okay if I put you in my college studies? I really love your art so I would really appreciate it.

aaaa thank u!!! glad you asked about that au too, i kinda miss it and of course i wanted to draw it too!!! sorry for the wait, here u go!!❤️❤️

vegas: born as the next king of the south, but wanna be a pirate instead👍

kim: a solo explorer, hate to stay at the palace, his life probably is a compilation of music videos☝️

also i didn't quite get it why you wanted a chay-vegas interaction of all, but i really like it!!

vegas was pretty casual around other creatures he met including mer people. here he saw chay (who's a friendly mer and like to swim around near the surface and land) and he ask for direction to get the black pearl. chay was willing to help but in return vegas had to help chay find his stupid brother who became human and at that time got lost in the land 😂

i had fun with this thanks for asking!!!

also for your next question, it's super fine!! actually i feel honored🥹❤️🥺

#ask nandskarth #��️❤️❤️#tranexous #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche au #kpts mer au #finally made a tag for this au lol #fanart #thai series

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girlsneedff · 4 months

Text

Impted

Chosou x reader

Slightly NSFW- sexual activities are only mentioned. Still, minors and ageless bios stay away from this pls!!

This is based off of the song Imported by Jessie Reyez and 6LACK. I was blasting that all while writing (and not studying for finals).

Oh, and I drew the pic…

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ *:.｡. o .｡.:*☆

He doesn’t know why he’s getting so sad over this. It happens all the time. The girl that he loves finds some guy at a party, then they head home together, leaving Chosou a wreck. He knows it’s not fair, and he should have moved on a long time ago, but he can’t.

It’s hard to move on from someone you love- especially when she’s telling him “I love you” back. But she doesn’t want to make it official- she knows that this man will literally walk on his hands and knees to appease her, and she acts like he’s just some guy. It aggravates him to high hell, but he’s still hopeful about her.

This night was no different. She came with Chosou, and she’s leaving with another man. He can see her chatting this guy up from across the room in the house party. She’s batting her lashes up at him, playing with her hair, letting him feel all up on her. Chosou’s seething- you can practically see the steam rising from his head. With every bass boosted beat of the music in the house his heart is being torn to shreds. But she’s made it pretty clear that the two of them aren’t together- at all. He’s beginning to realize that they never will be.

“You look pissed as hell.”

A voice from behind him says, as (presumably, the owner of said voice) snakes an arm across his shoulder, leaning over the back of the chair to talk to him.

He peels his eyes off of ‘his girl’ and gives his attention to the voice.

It’s you. Your hair’s done up- you’re wearing a tube dress with necklaces and other jewelry adorning you. Lipgloss is shining. You’re smirking at him. He’s never seen you before- ever.

He doesn’t respond to you. Instead, he just looks at you blankly, then back at the girl he came with, dancing with another man.

“You like her, huh? In love with your best friend?”

That annoys Chosou a little bit. They’re not best friends- they’re… they…. Fuck he doesn’t even know. He takes a sip of his alcohol, just trying not to send his mind into a spiral.

“I get it. Happens to the best of us.”

Chosou would really prefer if you left him alone to wallow in his own self pity, but it seems that you have no intention of doing that. You haphazardly rub his chest, trying to comfort him.

“Thank you for- thank you for coming to my party.” You slur, smiling warmly.

Great. A drunk hostess. Not that he also wasn’t tipsy- it’s just that he’s sitting down, and he’s focusing all of his sobriety on his love.

And this is your house. It must look so nice when it’s not full of a bunch of mid to late 20-year olds getting wasted as fuck and destroying the place.

“Thank you for having me…”

“Of courseeeee,”

He side eyes you, as you place your head in your other hand.

“You’re too cute to be here upset about a girl.”

You grab the back of his head, which startles him, a tinge of red dancing across his cheeks as you move his head to look around.

“Take aaaa look at all of the possibiliessss.”

You’re referencing all of the people in your home right now. He doesn’t doubt that there’s some beauties in your humble abode, but they’re not her.

When you let go he looks back up at you, rubbing the back of his head clumsily. Now he’s really looking at you. Before he was so focused on his girl that’s not his girl, but now that he’s really really looking at you-

You’re bad as fuck. Real bad. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or the fact that he’s been ignoring his heart skipping beats like it’s beatboxing ever since you came to pester him. He hasn’t felt this feeling for anyone but her in a long time.

You pick up on his staring, looking him up and down. Then you say, with a sly grin:

“Maybe I can offer some help…”

He stiffens, and it’s noticeable. You let out a small hum, seemingly happy with his reaction, running the hand wrapped around him along his chest.

“Come with me.”

You take said hand and grab his jaw, turning it towards his situationship.

“You really want to sit… and watch in agony?”

He gulps, feeling his heart squeeze even harder, watching this girl on the verge of kissing the random man of the night.

“Your eyes are so easy to read.”

He looks to his side, and sees you leaning over further, damn near falling onto the couch to look at his face.

“At least for now, I can help you forget.”

His face is burning up, and he’s feeling dizzy. Maybe it’s the drink? Or his situation? Or how close you are to his face?

“If you’re not down to fuck, that’s fine too. We can have fun other-“

“I want to fuck.”

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even process what he was saying with the little control he had.

You let out another hum in satisfaction with a grin.

“Shit- ok then.” You kiss his cheek sloppily, then stand back up behind the couch, waiting for him so you guys can go.

He stands up, looking at ‘his girl’ then back at you over his shoulder. You’re leaning against the wall with your arms crossed, looking at him. Obviously undressing him with your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek.

Your confidence and unabashed ogling is something he’s not used to.

Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but he likes it. Maybe it’s the punch you’ve brewed up for this party, but he’s starting to remember it’s nothing serious between him and ole girl. Perhaps it’s the drink, but he hopes you grip his hair just as roughly as you were doing before, whether he’s eating you out, or you’re riding.

You’re here- for the night, at least. It’s been so long since he’s had sex.

For once, his mind isn’t on her.

Maybe the best way for him to get her out of his head is to get inside of you- at least for the night.

#jjk #choso kamo #chosou #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x black!reader #unrequited love #black reader #choso x black y/n #jjk choso

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journalsouppe · 14 days

Text

Ever since I accidentally picked up and played DGS, I knew I needed to play PLVSPW. I decided to alternate playing ace attorney games with professor layton games until I finished the main trilogies for both and could finally play plvspw, and it was so worth the wait. I love this game so much it is everything I could have hoped and more, so so so much more. Highly recommend to honestly anyone!!!

All of the Professor Layton stickers are from jordydrawsmerch which can be found here and here. All of the Phoenix stickers are by Peachcott!! Every other sticker is from Daiso!

Writing typed below!

Rating: 9.7 Played: Fa 2023 Port: 3DS Favorite? Y Replayable? Y Recommend? Y

Comments

AA stickers by Peachcott, PL stickers by Jordydraws

THE MUSIC???

WITHCES??? TALOS???

HIS NAME IS NOT FUCKING CAR ACCIDENT

I like the UI esp with how the stylus interacts with the screen

Omg the yiga

Omg traveling is easier AND they give you coin and puzzle hints

OH IM JUST NOW IN CORT AFTER THAT INSANE SEQ

WHAT IS GOING ON

LOVE maya’s model

THE REUSED ASPECTS IN DGS OMG

THE CUNTY POSE AAAA

THE PIPE WHACK LMAO

WHITE PAYNE

Love the design of labyrinthia

Im curious if nick and maya will be bombarded with puzzles

I LOVE how the 3D and tech of the 3DS are used to make more dynamic puzzles

A LIVE EXECUTION?

Lmao B&W LSOH moment (Kira ate flowers which is smth that happened in the original non-musical little shop of horrors movie)

SOME GUY

WHAT DO YOU MEAN MAYA AND NICK HAVE BEEN HERE FOR 5 YEARS

Cinderellia lol

Omg the book roof

Labyrinthia at night music is sooo pretty

Kira is the killer… right?

I am so stressed about Luke and maya

Hershel to see the storyteller??

THE PRINCESS TUTU AND DROSSELMEYER VIBSE ARE OFF THE CHARTS

Luke is too small for the defense table T_T

THE STORYTELLERS DAUGHTER??

THE BELL TOWER??

Curse…

LUKE NOOO

WHAT IS GOING ON?? T-T

LMAO NOT ANOTHER PARROT WITNESS

BARNHAM NOO

Top of town so pretty

Major shrek 2 vibes

Is that a bust of cabanela

Layton said lets go somewhere more private LMFAO

I love the nick and Luke dynamic… but at what cost T_T

LAYTON’S ??? AND HIS THEME AHHH

HERSHEL NOOOO

Obsessed with rouge’s design and tattoo

THE WAY I SCREAMED WHEN I SAW HERSHEL AHHH

Love the assistant/mentor switch

MAYA EATING RAMEN AND HERSHEL DRINKING TEA IN THEIR PIXEL ART

^ Maya copies other idles! luke writes in his journal and nick reads his paper!

LOVE darklaws claws!

the vigilante witnesses....

is it really a layton game if there's no tower

GOD DAMN HERSHEL love his sword fighting

omg who is bezella

will layton act as the prosecutor??

the battle against the professor is so nerve wracking

just learned why its called pl VS pw

GO OFF KIRA

ESPELLA AND DARKLAW AS KIDS AWW T^T <333

ooo darklaw's laws have the eyes on them

the "magic" is so complicated

i feel like eve the cat is v important but overlooked

WHERE IS LUKE I MISS HIM T^T

love the belfry search

ooo this is like princess tutu x tunic

this took a sharp turn omg

THESE LADIES T~T

FORK LIFT CERTIFIED LUKE LMAO

BARNHAM!

love eve's black outfit

YURI LETS GO

PROF??

EDGEWORTH??

Summary

This game is everything I hoped it would be. yes it's a Professor Layton crossover, but it also has the charm of DGS x Princess tutu x tunic. The ending was very layton-esque, along with all the reveals. I truly had such an amazing time playing this game. I was initially introduced to this because I heard that DGS was inspired by it, so it was my mission to play both aa and pl's original trilogies before playing. And I am so glad I did bc the wait was so worth it. You can absolutely see the influence this game and professor layton had on Shu Takumi. There's so much passion and creativity between plvspw an dgs that makes playing them all the more enjoyable. I loved how all the main characters interacted with each other, I especially loved how hershel and phoenix swapped assistants. The new characters were also so fun. Espella, Barnham, Darklaw, the story-teller, they were all so unique and enjoyable to interact with. The animation was stellar. This 3D style really works for both PL and AA and im so glad both series took inspiration from it. The music and art was phenomenal, this game honestly should win awards if it hasn't already done so. I also love how any character pulled into an aa game will have their gay moments: phoenix x hershel and espella x eve especially. I can't wait to make art or even write for this game, I will definitely add scenes from this to my ballet au ^^! What a phenomenal game, what a fun premise with the most convoluted layton-esque ending. It was so perfectly I highly recommend!!

#journalsouppe #bullet journal #journal #video game journal #ace attorney #professor layton #plvspw #professor layton vs phoenix wright #plvspwaa #plvspw spoilers

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Note

Okay, it may sound weird, but what if the manager is also an artist, like daft punk/Banksy? They are famous but also anonymous, and are just working for the idol/rockstar? They got popular during their time as a manager and they cannot quit because it would be too suspicious and so sudden, like they are waiting for the right moment to quit, hut until then, the are just going to be 'the manager' in public.

YAN! POP IDOL [EVE] x MANAGER/ARTIST! READER (ft. YAN! ROCKSTAR [FEROZE])

AAAA I ACTUALLY HAD THIS IDEA BUT WAS LIKE- WHAT IF GENIE’S READERS HATE ME FOR CHANGING THE MANAGER TOO MUCH- but bAH fuck it! HAVE THIS!! THE THREESOME SMUT WILL HAVE TO WAIT-

@moyazaika tagging you just so you’re informed and can add more on Feroze’s side if you’re free:

Anyways if you manage to be both an artist and manager at the same time, props to you for your god-like time management cause that’s honestly fucken commendable. Like manager-nim you’re actually a god at this point.

I imagined reader to be completely out of the genre FerozEve (are we surprised by who the top is at this point) in order for the double trouble makers not to find out immediately.

I don’t know how wide Feroze’s music tastes are but for Eve he practically listens to every genre. As a teen his favorite were the rockstar and ofc pop. He got into Hip-Hop/Trap through the main rapper from his group, and Kpop has a ton of genres mixed into it including but not limited to EDM, R&B and Punk Rock. Soon enough, he hears of this underground DJ who’s known for not only making fire music but being their own choreographer and VJ. Talk about being blessed by the gods.

You (and his bae Khan ofc) inspired him to create his own music and eventually go solo. He went undercover sometimes to send you tracks. You thought he was just a kid/teen since his early ones were kinda . . . not it, but was impressed by the amount of passion he put into improving.

Years later, your activity died down due to working on Feroze’s career more. Those exclusive interviews and world concert arrangements don’t do themselves yknow!

Eve was saddened by your lack of releases and performances but understood. Besides he had your manager persona in mind to obsess over.

The collab happens and you joined Eve to look over the tracks in the album. From the amount of iced americanos he’d down, you could tell he was super out of it and really needed rest BUT HE WOULDN’T GODDAMN LISTEN TO YOU-

*ahem*

So you decided to help him instead.

You gave minor pointers here and there really. Nothing much in your opinion.

But to Eve he was just in utter shock and awe. How come he didn’t think of that?? The synth really elevated that section of the chorus?? Why were you hiding this genius from him??

You explained that you wanted to be a producer for the company but since it ended up reducing your passion for music so you otped for a managerial position instead.

Eve isn’t even listening at this point. He just has heart eyes. Like he didn’t know he could fall further in love with you. Boy is whipped.

Overall Eve kinda do be dumb and dense so he wouldn’t figure it out. But I’d imagine the revelation to happen sort of like this:

You were helping out Eve with vocal arrangement one day, assisting with adlibs and what not when . . .

“I think it’d be better if you put this here, and double it.”

“Woah that sounds fire.” Eve’s eyes were glued at your focused face. You looked so adorable all focused like that. He was so close to jumping out the recording booth just to give you a big ol smooch.

At his approval you continued, “We could build it up more. I’ll punch you in here and you could do a lower note? Like this.” You played a section of the song, perfectly harmonizing with his voice like it was nothing, before turning to him for approval.

He was silent. Mouth slightly agape.

“Eve?”

“. . .”

Holy shit. You’re one of his favorite artists-

#yandere #hns.eve #yandere x reader #ferozeve #feroze khan #feroze #yandere imagine #yandere oc #yandere brainrot #yandere headcannons #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere fic #yandere concept #yandere original character #brainrot #yandere scenario #yandere one shot

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icyminghao · 4 months

Text

2023 with icyminghao!

to start off, to say i’m massively grateful would be an understatement. i honestly didn’t expect to start writing again after quitting like 5 years ago 💀 and just decided to write for boynextdoor on a whim bc they haven’t debuted yet and would probably need some writers on the blr 😎

i was really excited to try out writing again having been a ghost reader for so long HELP (i’m not proud) and fate just led me back to my ult seventeen!

when i wrote, i just wanted to get my work out there and published on the cloud, and the reception and friends i made along the way were certainly not on my bingo card but a welcome surprise nonetheless. i’m really, really grateful that people like reading my work and i’m sorry that i can’t push out fics regularly! i write on random spurts of inspiration and i have so many wips rn PLS i’ll do my best to publish them all soon!!!

and now to the friends i made along the way! i may not have been talking to y’all much lately but i’m still so grateful to have met each and everyone of you in my writing journey, y’all have been some of the sweetest, funniest, and most genuine people i have met ever and i love all of you guys:

zanna @slytherinshua my first friend on the blr!! so so in awe at how you’re in so many fandoms like it’s genuinely mind blowing to me (in a good way!) and i also like some of hoppipolla’s music and you’re the first person i’ve seen to like them too!! but anyways you’ve been so so sweet and kind and i love how you always strive to interact with everyone (hence the movie night and trying to accommodate to everyone’s schedules was so sweet btw)!! i hope 2024 treats you so well and i love you so much

yena @fairyhaos my butterfly :( you are genuinely the sweetest and cutest person i’ve ever met like i always have a smile on my face when i talk to you!! there is really never a dull moment in our conversations bc you’re just so so genuine and kind!!! i love your works too even though i may not have been interacting much (i try my best!!!) and i hope 2024 treats you well!! all the best for your upcoming exams too :)

skye @etherealyoungk skye!!! omg i always love talking to you :) you always feel like the older sister i never had and everytime i talk to you i just feel so warm all around like you’re just so sweet and kind and i hate how you’re always swarmed with exams but i know you’ll always just ace it anyway like the star student you are 😎 anyway if its possible i really hope 2024 brings you less academic stress and more fun!!!!!! i’m always rooting for you skye i love you sm :(

axe @blue-jisungs axie my honey pumpkin cupcake with buttercream frosting and 2 marshmallows and a cherry on top i love you sm :( you’re so so sweet and funny and i always love interacting with you and reading all the silly nicknames we come up with for each other i love you sm!! i hope 2024 will be the best year for you yet and it’ll only go up from here :) college is going to be so great for you too you’re gonna have so much fun!!!! and ace all your exams bc you’re just that smart 😎😎 love you!!

jada @kyeomyun jada :( i always love talking with you bc we always use all caps and it’s just so funny to me HELP but anyways you haven’t been active much and i hope life has been good to you and will be better in 2024 bc you deserve it sm!! i miss you sm and you’re literally so sweet and kind and i hope we get to talk more in 2024!

hana @wqnwoos quite literally my favourite writer i can’t believe i’m actually friends with you!! so starstruck HAHA but aaaa hana i love you sm your works literally bring light to my day like how do you write like that. and you’re so nice too like fr a whole package!! i hope 2024 brings you nothing but joy bc you really deserve it hehe

mellow @haowrld my fellow 8star!! i love you sm and i’m so sad we haven’t been able to talk lately (100% my fault i am absolutely horrible at replying) but you’re such a fun person to talk to and i hope 2024 will be a great year for you!!

rania @wheeboo rania!! i love your writing sm and you’re so so sweet too and quite literally the queen of reaction stickers i still love them so much HAHAHA we haven’t been able to talk much lately but i still love you with my whole heart and hope that 2024 is the best year for you!!

jem @pepperonidk jem!! i loved our conversations on movies and camp with the kids and i hope you’re having the time of your life in korea :) you’re so so kind and sweet and i always love talking with you, it really never fails to bring a smile to my face hehe i hope 2024 brings you all the joy!!

sky @weird-bookworm sky! omg i really need to get better at replying bc i love talking with you and would really really love to get closer AAA but you’ve been so sweet to me and i’m really grateful to have met you :( you’re always encouraging me to continue writing and i’m really thankful and i hope 2024 is your best year yet!

and to my other moots @woozvc @mirxzii @jeonride @trblsvt @hannyoontify @frenshushutoast @haecien @rubywonu we haven’t been able to interact much but i love you all sm nonetheless!! i’ll be interacting with you all much more in 2024 so be ready hehe 🤭🤭

and to my followers!!! i love you all sm and i’m so grateful that y’all like my work like genuinely ☹️☹️ i don’t deserve y’all!! i always love looking at your reblogs and it motivates me to continue writing!! and to the ghost readers (i’ve been there 💀) i appreciate y’all too hehe i’ll try my best to publish more quality work this 2024 that i hope y’all would like!!!! thank you sm 🩷

to 2024 😋

ps also wna thank some of my favourite writers out there i love your work sm literally my comfort: @leejungchans @wooahaes @thepixelelf @viastro @toruro @lovelyhan @97-liners @wqnwoos (😚) @wonwoonlight @twogyuu

#i love y’all #ICY THINKS OUT LOUD

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milgram-tournament · 3 months

Text

MILGRAM Best Song Tournament, Round 2, Match 4 TEAR DROP vs. BACKDRAFT

Propaganda for both options under the cut!

Propaganda for TEAR DROP:

"yuno kashiki enthusiast here anyways tear drop propaganda WE BALL

let's start off with the lyrics! holy fuck, i'm so glad yuno finally got to say what she's wanted to say!!

and she fully shows the fact that she does compensated dating through the lyrics ("the wanted wanting the wanted")

and even if it sounds like she's scolding the audience for the song, she's also scolding her clients! they only perceive her as a certain type of character and deciding that's all she is. She's upset that we decided based on how "naïve" she looked instead of her actual crime (to be honest, I could write a whole analysis into why her murder is perfect for her character anywa) and she doesn't care what will happen to her, she needs her opinions heard

also kinda rap section?? banger fr

THE VISUALS!! GOOD LORD THE VISUALS!!! THEY ARE SO BANGER!!! they're really pretty and gosh i literally don't know what to say, the scene where vampire is in the background and it transitions to yuno sitting on her bed... the pink tinted glasses (YES FUCK I LOVE THAT MAN!!!!) THE COAT!! THOSE INBETWREN SCENES i'm obbing

AND THE INSTRUMENTAL!! PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU ALL LISTEN TO THE INSTRUMRNTAL OF HER SONG THERES SO MANY SMALL DETAILS!! SIRENS, TEAR DROPS RAHHH THE CLAPS/CLICKING TJE TECHNO PIANO GUITAR??? THE INSTRIMENTS I CANT NAME I THINK THEY ALL HAVE SOME READON OF BEING IN THE SONG AND I WILL FIND OUT IN AN ANAKYSIS POST I JUDT LOVE IT AUEUEU

literally tear drop is the banger ever i listen to this shit religiously thank you for listening to my tear drop propaganda"

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-Yuno’s voice. Enough said. -The imagery in the MV is brilliantly used, and doesn’t shy away from the horrors of Yuno’s line of work. -Vampire cameo!!! -Almost Lo-Fi vibes to the instrumental?? I can’t really explain it but it’s a vibe and I’m 100% here for it,

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"For teardrop: The pink aesthetic in the MV as a whole makes it super nice to look at :D"

Propaganda for BACKDRAFT:

See that structure in the three distinct verses that sound nothing like anything else in the song: cool, contemplative, and “oh no, what have I done”.

The instrumental and the spoken-word from the beginning combine in the end, changing the mood of the stanza from confident and showy to panicked and desperate.

And the words… You can hear the wordplay in the last stanza, even if you don’t understand it.

Appreciate this chaotic masterpiece of a song."

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"There are so many things in the song that show a progression "

-“ deliciously scorched till your mouth waters” > “I don’t want any more”

-fuuta spray paints the camera hen as the end es spray paints him/the camera

-the pressure graffiti changing

"And on a more silly level"

-ARTHUR CONANT GOES SO HARD IN THE VOCALS!!!! COME ON LISTEN TO BURN BURN AND TELL ME THIS MAN ISN’T GIVING IT HIS ALL!

-cat mouth fuuta :3 how can you not love cat mouth fuuta?

-lowpolydog designed amazing graffiti

#milgramtournament #milgram #fuuta kajiyama #kajiyama fuuta #yuno kashiki #kashiki yuno