#I love Japanese electronic music.

[apollosbirthdayplaylist]

キタニタツヤ (Kitani Tatsuya) ft. Eve - ラブソング (Love Song)

[danwylds]

I love u fear and loathing in las vegas

[lovelybotblog]

bed quem !

“– Who’s that cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent? ”

satoru gojo! x female reader!

summary: You're at a party hosted by the company you work when fate brings you together with the most breathtaking man you've ever seen with a unique sense of humor, but, can you play along? contents: slight use of "y/n", suggestive, cursing, sunshine x grumpy, fluff, non-curse au word count: 8k

The investment fund you worked for, one of the great pioneers in the New York economy business, was throwing a party to celebrate the merger with a Japanese company, several exchanges of partners and workers between countries were already underway, and you were one of the workers who benefited with a promotion.

So at the same time you credited a small part of the celebration to your position as one of the new company's controllers. And also your colleagues in the area, because from time to time they came up to you to congratulate you.

“Hey, y/n!” You heard a voice calling you in a festive tone.

You looked around trying to find where that voice was coming from through the speakers that were playing electronic music louder than the normal for an executive event. The owner of the company loved to rock his parties, you could describe it as unforgettable and overdoing.

You were surrounded by people talking and dancing, your vision under the liquors you acquired during the night made your vision poorer and the phosphorescent colored lasers that ran throughout the event hall blinded you when they passed through your sight.

“Congratulations.” You felt the hairs on your neck stand up when you felt an unfamiliar grip on your shoulder, the warmth exuded from the voice meeting the flesh of your ear.

You glanced over your shoulder, taking a preemptive step back. “Jackson.” You greeted.

"If I was harsh with you earlier, it was because I wanted to motivate you." It was one of your male colleagues, not one you liked. “I always knew you'd get here.” You knew he hoped you didn’t.

“Thank you.” You responded with a pursed, thin, not heart-holy smile.

He mirrored your expression, taking a small breath before speaking again, “Now that we are in the same branch, any misunderstanding we may have had is best forgotten.”

You forced yourself to control your eyes from popping out of your sockets as your glare intensified, feeling the grip on the glass in your hand tighten. He was a real punk. When you were working for him as an analyst not more than a couple of months ago, he yelled at you calling you ‘useless bitch’ when his irreverent purchase went wrong and blamed you for your numbers being wrong (which were not), when he was the one risking it all for a few million when the estimates you’d given him were clearly low.

“You think so?” You didn't know if the heat you felt was because of your growing anger or the high temperature of the place.

“Definitely,” He answered you, letting out the annoying laugh that you had to endure so many times after hearing him tell one of his sickening jokes first thing in the morning. You brought your French 76 to your mouth, settling the taste of the vodka into your system to put up with more of the thug in front of you.“For the sake of the team.” He winked at you.

The glass stopped on your lips, your eyebrow suffering an unnoticeable twitch. For the sake of the team you should break the glass over his head.

“You guys having fun?” Another one of your colleagues joined the conversation, breaking the closeness the man had forced between you and him.

“Akira! I was hoping to see you.” Your voice came out with happiness, surrounding your senior colleague's shoulders, full of gratitude. She chuckled, fully knowing the reason for your mannerism.

“Am I interrupting something?" She questioned, bringing her index finger to her chin in curiosity, staring sharply at the man in front of you.

Who shook his head, bringing the hand that was previously on your shoulder to the back of his neck, a nervous giggle escaping from his lips. "Not at all, I was just congratulating y/n on her achievement."

Akira nodded, grappling one of her arms to your waist, her gaze not slipping from the man at any moment. The “Mama bear” nickname given by the employees was truly accurate and Jackson was a known pain in the ass, so it was her job to keep him in line. In addition to being treated with fear for being CFO, Akira was also respected for being the only woman with her position in the branch.

Jackson scanned the room, looking for someone else to bother, "If you'll excuse me, ladies." He vowed his head before leaving the scene.

You laughed next to your senior while watching the man's back. “He’s such a moron.”

“He is.” The woman sighed, finally concentrating on your state. “And I should get you a drink, we have to celebrate my little chick hatching.” Akita teased you, squeezing your side. She was the one you did your internship with. She made you go through hell with paperwork and marathons to hand out schedules from one executive to another, but with impeccable effort and paranoia of failure, you managed to get through it with honors.

You both walked towards the bar, making your way through the crowd and greetings from colleagues. You felt your feet starting to ache from the pointed heels you were wearing, shiny black with an ankle strap, they were beautiful of course, but they were higher than what you usually wore.

Although the thought of your accomplishment rolling through your head cancelled it out. You could claim to be happy, it had been a long time since you felt proud of yourself.

"You said earlier that you were hoping to see me, is there anything in particular you want to talk about?" Akira asked you, her gaze searching for empty seats at the bartender's counter. Your arms let go of the woman when you realized how long you had been holding her.

"Oh, yeah. Before I came I was analyzing your idea of ​​buying that new company you rambled on a few days ago and it's actually not a bad idea, despite the small income they have now, in a year's time they will grow their incomes 45% percent. I think we should take the risk." You began to explain quickly and concisely as you were guided by the other. A smile escaping your lips at the idea of ​​all the new possibilities.

A small, incredulous laugh was heard from Akira, "M’kay, babes, I know you're all-excited and your child prodigy nature makes you hungry for action,” She interrupted herself to point to two lonely seats, heading towards them. “But enjoy your first big accomplishment.”

You felt a cold wave washing you out. Every cell in your body felt electrified, eager to learn, excited about how efficiently or poorly your ideas could turn out.

The other woman knocked the wood plank of the bar twice as she climbed onto the stool, you mimicked her action. “Two Margaritas, please.” She asked the bartender as he approached the two of you, he nodded at the petition and walked away.

You noticed that the bar was packed, people were really taking advantage of the free drinks. Groups stood close to the bar for easy ordering, couples were talking in the stools, and baristas paced back and forth with a mental list of the many orders.

“You are very smart, but you're also young. You shouldn't spend all your time working, go loco, screw up sometimes, it'll be okay." Akira lectured you, everyone with eyes could notice that you were a very committed person with the complement of your responsibilities, a little too much. "I know you mean well, but it can wait until we're on work hours." She continued, "We're at a party."

The party was formally work-related, so technically you were in work hours, you thought.

“When you get to your mid-forties depressive crises, you can bussy you up with work, but girl- a few years ago you were just a graduate, you still have time to live out the silly, saccharine crush and drunken weekends. What are you doing?” She made you question yourself.

You knew you were very dedicated to your career, but you realized you were starting to act like your father. A chill runned through your body.

"Look at me, I wish I had the availability you have." Your eyes scanned the woman from top to bottom. Her hair was thick and curly brown, her skin was a dark cinnamon color, and her eyes were tiger-like. Even though she had birthed two children, her curves were preserved intact.

I wouldn’t mind being busy if I looked like you in my forties, you restrained yourself to say. But you were a smart person, you understanded what she was trying to say from the beginning, the thing was that you had no motivation to do it.

The drinks arrived, “Thank you.” Both of you said to the bartender, following him with your eyes as he walked away again.

“I’m not a boring person.” You defended yourself, watching the woman raise her eyebrows and slightly widen her eyes.

“I know.” She answered, smiling with her lips, paying attention to the train of your thoughts.

“I go out.” You continued trying to remember interesting things you have done, Akira nodded as she said ‘okay’, “I date, I have gone on dates.” You added, remembering the dude who asked for your number in your local coffee shop and your old college friend who you ran into while waiting for the subway and asked you out, the one you’ve been texting for three weeks.

“I’m glad you do.” Akira responded, waiting for more opening from you. “My husband will pick me up, I can give you a ride if that's what you're worried about.” It was hard times with the security of women, she understanded if that’s what got you doubting, she would too.

“That would be nice.” You mumbled, that would change the cards on the table. You were celebrating, you reminded yourself. “I guess I could get a few drinks.” Akira’s composure regained its excitement.

“And maybe some shots after!” She added with a smile, moving closer to the edge of the stool.

“Yeah!” You nodded your head, trying to match her enthusiasm, realizing that maybe she was the one who needed the fun night and she was just trying to find a reason to go loco, as she said. There was obviously a lecture in her words, a try to change your mindset, and she kind of did, because you don’t remember well how she managed to convince you to drink the two margaritas. Then you ordered a line of shots that made the warm go up to your neck. Suddenly the loudness of the party didn’t bother you, and you felt happier, making you match your senior extrovertness.

People started to join your circle, one of your Mexican coworkers started shouting “Fondo, fondo, fondo!” As other of your coworkers drinked his beer from top to bottom. Everyone around cheered when he finished, it reminded you of your college days.

In any other business party that behavior would be completely judged, but apparently the ambience of this was given to do any kind of exaggerated outgoings for people to do. You knew that they were gonna regret that the day after and on Monday, everyone was gonna pretend they didn’t go nuts.

“Miss Campbell, the CEOs would like to introduce you to someone," One of the secretaries of the office whispered in Akira's ear, who nodded quickly. You got off the stool, reaching to your coworker, worried about being left alone.

“I'll be right back, wonder girl,” Your senior captivated your attention, patting you on the shoulder. “If you need anything, feel free to call me or text me, whatever.” She said before walking away, leaving you amazed that she looked like she hadn't had a drop of alcohol, walking upright and a stoic expression settling in when it came to business again.

You waved at her when Akira turned her head to see you, you smiled at her, trying to calm your nerves down when you noticed everyone around you was unknown to you. You stepped back to your seat but your back bumped into something.

“So, you are the wonder girl?” You heard a voice behind you making you jump, taking you out. You turned around, facing probably the most handsome man you have ever seen. You quickly noticed his unique white-snow hair, whose locks of hair decorated his big blue eyes as clear and bright as the sea water on a sunny day. The next thing you noticed was that he stole your seat, the one you left alone for like ten seconds. "I pictured someone different." He admitted with a smirk, letting a chuckle out.

You scoffed, trying to figure out if you were surprised by his boldness or his looks, probably both.

“Are you gonna tell me your name or…?” He asked, leaning his arm on the bar, tilting his head slightly, allowing himself the luxury of observing your facial features freely while you looked around to check that it wasn't a prank because there was no way someone could talk as shamelessly as him.

“My name? Who are you?” You questioned him. You noticed his slanted eyes, you assumed he was one of the Japanese employees who blended in with your company.

“I asked first,” He stated.

You huffed at his words, watching him roll back his shoulders, making you notice how broad he was compared to you.

You forced yourself to return your gaze to his eyes, not without first noticing the sunglasses hanging on his unbuttoned formal shirt, slightly giving more room to see his chest.

“And I didn't mean anything negative when I said I picture you differently.” The white-haired man clarified, leaning closer to your face. Even if you were standing and he was sitting, his face was leveled slightly higher. You crossed your arms, waiting to receive a worse comment, “I imagined someone more nerdy looking, maybe with ugly, giant glasses, and a somewhat evil personality.”

Your body relaxed at that, quickly changing your surprised expression to a questioning one, “What assures you that I’m not evil?”

He held your gaze for a few seconds, his smirk still plastered on his face. He leaned back, resting one arm on the bar and placing his other hand on his thigh. “Although you have quite a few envious people talking badly about you behind your back,” He began to speak, making you furrow your eyebrows at his words, “While I was waiting in line for my order to be taken, I noticed that, of all the people you were surrounded, you were the only one smiling so sincerely and purely the whole time.” He unfolded himself, his cheeky smile faded into a smaller but still sincere one.

“So, not only you stole my seat but you also were stalking me?” You pointed out, trying to focus on something other than the fact that someone who looks like him took the time to observe you. The heat returned to your neck and cheeks, it made you feel flattered, a bit of excitement even.

“Well, I'd say that you just happened to stand right in the spot I wanted to lay my eyes on. And the seat was empty, so I took it." He teased you, throwing his hands in the air.

“Oh, and you’re also a comedian.” You say before drinking the rest of the cocktail you still had in your hand, the ice cubes had already melted and the flavor was diluted. You were trying to figure out what to expect from this interaction.

Your sense of self-preservation was telling you to back away, he was making you nervous and that wasn't a good sign. You didn't know how to handle this type of situation -whatever his intentions were-, you deduced that he was probably just playing. But he was magnetic, he made your heart race, his mere presence was imposing. You felt drunk by the way his features seemed sculpted by the gods, by the way his voice was like a siren's song drawing you to the bottom of the sea, by the way his beauty numbed the pain caused by your heels.

He leaned forward as he watched you remove the contact of the glass with your lips, although it stopped midway when from the corner of your eyes you glanced at the way his arm muscles flex under the fabric of his white jacket, immediately sliding your gaze to his eyes. Now that he was closer you noticed how long and full his eyelashes were. “And you are pretty.” He admitted.

You feel your chest rise up and down at this, taking a deep breath that crashes into his face, making him flicker his eyelashes brushing the top of his cheeks. His innocent words might not have any meaning, he might be messing with you, but you also couldn't help the nauseous feeling of highschool-like when the popular guy smiles at you.

You didn't want to smile at his compliment, you didn't even know his name, you were being irreverent. But it was obvious that he worked for the same company, so it shouldn't be so dangerous to trust him, no, you shouldn't let your guard down. Your internal fight was making you more confused.

“I don’t know your name.” You verbalized when no other response came to your mind.

The man didn't seem unfazed, he quickly catched that his name was not your only concern. "Well I don't know your name either."

“But you know my nickname, I think that's already an advantage for you over my personal info. It’s only the fair to give me your name." You fought back.

His brows cured together with a hint of hesitation. His soft smile was intact but it was more than obvious that his thoughts were plotting, he licked his lips, “Then no names.” He proposed.

You could reject him and walk away from the situation without any problem, but you would be lying if you denied that you were curious about him. Plus Akira’s lecture had an impact on your brain chemistry.

“Fine by me.” You agreed, leaving the glass of your hand on the counter.

And as if planned, the barista just happened to leave three diluted reddish drinks that seemed to be cosmopolitans and another dark red glass in front of Gojo. “Thank you,” He muttered, handing the man behind the bar a generous tip. He turned to look at you out of the corner of his eye but you managed to look away before he catched you. “Are you keeping me company?”

“Uhm, weren’t you supposed to take this somewhere?” You pointed out the glasses on the counter.

“I am in no hurry.”

You raised an eyebrow at his immediate, smugly and playful response. “Won’t your friends miss you?” You questioned him with a smile at his smooth talk.

“They’ll understand.” He tried to play it off knowing damn well his friends were in fact not gonna understand.

“Kay’,” You nodded, leaning on one of your feet, your left hand playing with the edge of the counter next to you. “Cool, cool, cool.” You said, instantly regretting it.

You looked down as you pulled your beautiful black sheer dress with nude bottom from your stomach down, which had gathered at the base of your waist from when you were sitting.

You wanted to lean on something, preferably sit down, but you also didn't want to change the position of the man in front of you. You didn’t even realize you were stuck in the middle of his manspreading.

“So, are you staying with me?” His voice took you out of your thoughts as he rested his head on his bicep, lowering the level of his head to be able to connect his gaze with yours, still on the ground.

You couldn't help but let out a small smile as his eyes shone craving to capture your attention, his smile widening when he succeeded.

Then reality hit you, you shouldn’t like being enthralled by his charms, you couldn’t. It was exciting, yes, but it was wrong because, “I’m with someone.”

That sounded ugly, it turned your stomach to say that, but it turned your stomach more to see his smile slowly disappear, you were starting to get used to it.

“I mean, he’s not my boyfriend yet.” That garbage of a sentence escaped from your mouth, the man in front of you tilted his head as a confusion expression grew on his face, “But I’m talking to someone, and he might get to be my boyfriend at some point,” You should stop talking, “-and I think it would be immoral of me to talk to you being aware of the other person's feelings, not that I think you’re flirting with me! Ha-ha,” You should really stop talking, “He trusts me, I wouldn’t like to betray him.” You finally finished, letting out a sigh, closing your eyes against your verbal diarrhea, that was humiliating.

That's why you didn't go on dates or go crazy like Akira told you, because everything ended up screwed up like now, painfully accurate like she said. You were about to apologize and leave, your burning face buried in your hands as a bursted laugh cut you up.

“Good, I hate betrayal,” he told you, his accent slipping through his words. You separated two spaces between your fingers to make way for your eyes, noticing that his hands were now resting on his knees, at your sides. He offered you a soft smile as he tried to imagine a man more handsome, polite, stronger, funnier and skillful -in any kind of way- than him, but he couldn’t, “But us sharing a drink while we chat isn’t overstepping the mark, is it?”

You thought about it a bit, you didn’t know anything about him, but he was at the company party, so he had to work in one of the companies, probably the Japanese one, and seeming that they became one, that turns you into coworkers sharing time to strengthen the union of companies. Camaraderie, that’s it.

“I guess not.”

His smile grew -watching as your expression relaxed- proud and cheeky, but his eyes remained soft, trying to remain understanding if you denied his invitation.

Even if he was a smooth talker, when it came to girls he never really needed it, it was natural that they always approached him. But you were a totally different kind of afterglow, everything he'd heard about you, good or bad, wasn't enough to prepare him for a stunner like you.

If he took your seat, it wasn't because he wanted to sit as he said, but because from the moment he was in line to order you caught his eye, eclipsing everyone in the room, making his legs weak with your dancing silhouette under the fluorescent lights of the disco and your smile that could light up the darkest nights.

“Okay, then let’s talk,” The mysterious man pressed, his gaze piercing your hands still over your face, trying to see that little giddy smirk of yours. He pulled away again and slid one of his drinks towards you. “You set the limit.”

You let out a giggle-sigh like, he was truly breathtaking. And a skilled manipulator, because it was the first time a man charms had convinced you to give in to your own warnings.

You shifted your weight to your other foot, still hesitant, “Fine.” You agreed, lowering your guard as you reached out to the drink, the tip of your fingers brushing against his as he took a couple of seconds to let go of the glass that shuddered on your hand when you were obnoxiously pushed from behind with a subsequent ‘sorry' from a person poking their head in the bar trying to get the barista’s attention.

“Let’s go to the sofa, it’s too noisy here.” You forced yourself to say to the white-haired man in front of you when you noticed the slight annoyance that grew on his eyebrows towards the person who pushed you.

He nodded, as you didn't miss the way he effortlessly took the remaining three drinks between his long fingers. When he stood up you felt a flutter run through your body when you noticed how he towered you and his muscular shoulders and flexed arms significantly framed your figure.

He guided you, making you way through the crowds, to where you had previously pointed out some sofas in the corner of the place, which although it was the quietest area, it was only because all the people there were flirting or hiding in the darkness to smooch. If he was honest, he wouldn't mind if your old monologue was thrown out the window and you opted for the second option.

He sat down first, then you imitated him, putting more distance between the two of you that you would like.

“I don’t bite.” He growled at you, watching as you leaned over on the edge of the sofa now gaining enough confidence to attentively observe the drinks he had placed on the table in front of you.

He rolled his eyes although that was just a facade to hide the fact that he almost tripped when you were walking behind him and he peaked a glance at you just to catch you checking him out.

In any other time he would use that to make the other person nervous, but in this case, your case, was just different. He knew you were smart enough to quickly throw a comeback, and even if it wasn’t a very strong one, you had the power to make him giggle with anything you said and he still couldn’t understand that.

“Are you serious? Cranberry juice?” You snatched at him, passing your nose over the glass he previously had in his hand, completely ignoring his silent request. “This is what kids drink.” You chuckled.

He raised an eyebrow, placing his arm on the back of the sofa and cupping his cheek on his hand, expectant to hear your thoughts.

“I understand if drinking isn’t your hit, but there are so much better things to drink, you know?” You said as you turned to him, returning your gaze to his eyes.

“Like what?” He played along with you, a roguish tone dancing in his voice, low and taunting. You noticed how his eyes traveled from you to the arm's length of empty space between you, clearly bothered by it. “Something like that?” He loosely pointed out the drink in your hand, the one offered to you earlier.

“I mean, this has alcohol, but yeah,” You responded, you knew what was probably coming next but you still let it continue.

He smirked, beautifully, godly and unreal. He was the kind of person you meet once in a lifetime, the type of person that leaves you awestruck with his beautiful, ethereal presence. And you had him in front of you, talking to you so casually, so willing to do what you said that made you annoyed.

It took your breath away to think how far you could take it.

“I wouldn’t mind trying it.” His calm voice silenced the techno music blasting your ears. You reached your hand towards one of the cocktails on the table, but he stopped you, “No, I want to try that one.” His gaze layed on the glass held by your fingers.

When he told you he wanted to share a drink you didn’t expect to be literal.

“All three drinks are the same,” You clarified, the corners of your mouth curling up but freezing the moment the white-haired man slid across the sofa towards you in one motion.

The fresh, mannish scent of his perfume made its way into your nostrils.

“But this one looks extra delicious,” he replied, watching the way your lashes brushed against your high cheekbone in disbelief. “Would taking a sip be crossing the line?” He continued talking, placing his hand on top of yours that was holding the glass, you were as surprised as he was that he dared to do so.

It took you a couple of seconds to release your grip on the glass until you were sure he had a good hold on it. You were really trying not to fall for his charms, for the sake of your situation-ship, but it was like his hands were meant to meet yours.

You watched him bring the glass to his lips, his attention never leaving your expectant eyes. You brought a hand over your heart and formed a fist as you felt the rhythm increase and beat harder when you realized your knee was brushing against his.

“Did you like it?” You forced yourself to ask, biting the inside of your cheeks trying to ignore the heat that grew after taking awareness of your contact with him.

He took the glass from his lips with a tight-lipped smile. At this point the alcohol punch should already be settling and his tongue flavoring the acid from the cranberry and lime juice. He slowly nodded at your question, trying to widen his smile but it only turned into a distorted grimace.

You let out a chuckle, his eyebrows unknitted together when you inadvertently patted him on the shoulder, “Do you want to spit it back into the glass?” You questioned, noticing how his cheeks were still puffed out.

He nodded again, quickly bringing the glass to his mouth to spit the liquid out of his mouth, not before covering the action with his free hand to not disgust you.

“Yuck…” He chirped while his facial muscles twitched, leaning towards the table to leave the glass, you were close enough to catch a hint of his perfume in the breeze he produced. Yet you got so carried away that you didn't notice when your body moved forward on its own to catch more of him.

It smelled woody, sensual and expensive.

“I like your scent.” You took the opportunity to give him a compliment when he had his back turned, a way of establishing that you had no problem with him.

You sat up straight again, nervously playing with your fingers, glancing at his profile, catching a pleased smile forming on his face.

“Thank you.” He appreciated, bringing one knee up onto the sofa as he twisted his torso to look at you again, a witty smirk warning you, “Now let me smell you.”

That hitched your breath, unsure if you heard right. “Kinky~,” You tried to tease him.

“You heard me right, don’t think I didn’t notice you sniffing me.” He laughed, sounding coming from the belly, like when children laugh and throw themselves back.

You felt the heat burn your cheeks, if it weren't for the low lighting of the place, you're sure you would be as red as a cherry. You had just been exposed by him.

“It’s only the fair!” He recalled your earlier complaint.

“What? No!” You replied with a frown, crossing your arms with your hands on the opposite shoulder as you remembered that your dress made you sweat, so you probably wouldn't smell as nice as you did in the beginning of the party. Plus, it was a ridiculous request to ask and accept.

“Why?” He asked, still with his playful tone lingering.

“Because it’s weird!” Your voice rose in exasperation, nearby couples looking at you in annoyance, causing the white-haired man to suppress a laugh when your tense expression turned into one an anxious one, wishing to stop being the center of attention.

“Well, then I could say the same about you.” Compared to you, he remained calm despite the insinuations.

Your head moved slowly from side to side, you couldn't believe how intimate the situation felt, the way his voice coaxed you, or why you were still there with him despite your own limitations.

It was clear that he was attracted to you, but you didn't understand why. He could have anyone he wanted, he could bewitch people with his mere appearance, and yet you were the person in the room he devoted his time to.

He confused you, he made you doubt yourself and your knowledge, when in your whole life you had always had everything clear and established.

You didn't know if he was a divine gift, or if he was a test of restraint.

“Come on.” He pressed on, adjusting himself in his seat, a smug grin widening in his face.

A flutter began to trot across your chest, your fingers pressed deeper into your skin, the thought of his figure near you made your body tingle.

“This is such a weird way to flirt,” You muttered, lowering your gaze to the sunglasses hanging on his shirt.

“I don’t see anyone flirting.” You heard him reply in the same low tone as yours, moving closer.

You couldn't even look him in the eyes, you were too embarrassed at the realization that you liked his attention, because you shouldn’t.

“You are stupid,” You said under an incredulous chortle, letting your arms slide down your body into your lap.

You felt guilty for keeping talking to him knowing his intentions and your reveries about the cute boy in front of you.

It wasn't entirely your fault, because although the guy you were romantically involved with was smart, attentive and average looking, but he was also kind of boring, you could never laugh with him because he never understood your jokes and he was quite judgmental.

Maybe it was just excuses, like the ones cheaters make after committing the act.

“Then let me continue being stupid,” he said, putting his arm on the edge of the sofa behind you. Your heart lifted as you felt his figure close once again, heat beginning to ignite your body.

From then on everything began to feel like it was in slow motion, from the moment you looked up and you were enchanted by his sparkling and magnetic eyes, as blue as the sea in summer, until your head leaned back without your order, opening the way for your bare neck as if you didn’t owned your body.

And you sat there, waiting for him to get close, “Am I crossing a line?” He mumbled just a palm away from your face.

“You’re about to.” You responded in the same playful tone with a bit of a warning written under lines which was forgotten the instant he made you nervously giggle when you felt his warmth breath electrify the bridge of your neck, causing your skin to prickle.

His hand was still on the side of your hip, his forearm gently brushing your waist, almost unnoticeable if it weren't for the heightened level of your senses. It was like you were trapped in a bubble, immersed in innocent intimacy.

“Am I crossing the line?” He teased you, his azure gaze connecting with yours, leaning forward just a few inches from your skin.

His malicious smirk spread across his face, making you roll your eyes at his mischief. He was too cheeky, too cocky.

You felt so hot, both because of the temperature of the place and the situation. He laughed, confident and amused by the situation. Having him close, led you to notice that he was as tipsy as you.

You looked up at the ceiling to try to ignore the reasonably strange looks from the people around you, although you could still get a sight of the man's whitish hair at the corner of your eyes.

It didn't take long for you to feel his nose touching and sniff the crook of your neck, hitching your breath, “Am I crossing the line now?” He whispered, sending a goosebump through your spine. You slowly shook your head, trying to keep your hand on your lap and not brushing with your fingers his hair that looked so silky and shiny, that even from a distance it was easy to detect the smell of his shampoo.

Then his touch traveled from your cleavage to the crease of your armpit and you quickly pushed him back with a hand on his chest, he immediately bursted out laughing.

“What is wrong with you?!” You scolded him, smacking him in the chest, dying of embarrassment. Your face burned hotter than you'd ever felt before, your nose and cheeks itched and burned as if a bucket of boiling water had been thrown on you.

He was lying on his shoulders, his chest going up and down with each laugh he let out, you could distinguish his abdomen contracting even through his shirt.

“M’ sorry! Sorry, ” He apologized amidst giggles, trying to sit up, one of his hands traveling to your wrist when you tried to stand up. “Just so you know- you didn’t smell bad at all.” You stood up again with your back to him, but he pulled you back and turned you around, plopping down on the couch again, “In fact, you smelled like really good.” He promised now seated properly.

His jeering voice had faded into a convincing sweet one, with puppy eyes and all.

“Don’t go.”

You should, but didn’t want to.

“I didn’t mean to offend you or anything, well- I did want to annoy you but because that’s the only way you look me in the eyes with your eyebrows furrowed and a little pout.” He started chattering, desperate to explain himself.

Your eyes traveled to his grip on your wrist, just tight enough to keep you close without hurting you, one of his fingers slowly massaging the palm of your hand to calm you down. “You command.”

You looked up again, now watching him lick his plump pink lips. Your breathing was labored, your thighs were pressed together, and your free hand was squeezing your knee.

Something inside you felt minisculely change, your gaze joined with his felt heavier and more connected than before, it was as if you could feel him deep in your chest, like a knot that you couldn't swallow.

“Is your heart racing?” He asked you in a breath, his hand twitched against your skin.

“How do you know that?” Your breath was trapped, trying to climb up your rib cage, sending a burning ache you couldn’t let out.

“Well, because mine is,” He let out with a chuckle, bringing a hand to his chest and pressing it into a fist when he felt his heart was going to jump out.

You wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream, both at the same time. The feeling of his eyes made you feel as if you two were dancing under a spotlight in a room full of darkness.

At first you thought it was his incomparable beauty that kept you hooked on the conversation, but it was actually him, his jokes, his teasing, who made you feel like you were in a fever dream.

And he was the one who was confessing to you that his heart was racing, he was the one who looked at you like if you were a tasty meal he craved, he was the one who you would allow to pin you down on the floor just because his jokes just hit different.

He scooched over to you, his free hand laying on the side of your thigh, his thumb caressing over the cloth of your dress, trying to steal your attention out of your thoughts. And when you did, you drove your eyes to him, although you felt unable to hold his gaze, his eyes softly sparked with his pupils dilated and his grin stretched, his head tilting afterward.

Your mouth was gaped half open, being interrupted by a shy beam spreading across your face, sinking at your sight. Your body moved closer to his and you giggled, after the nervous cute rant the man in front of you threw, now you couldn’t deny to yourself that he was genuinely interested in you. Unthought-of words were about to spill out of your mouth.

“Gojo!” Gojo?

A loud, rigid voice broke the moment, whisking away your low guard, walls starting to build up again. By inertia you removed your hand from his grip.

“Satoru Gojo!” Satoru? “You have erased any non-existent respect I had for you.”

The white-haired man paled, his expression twisted as he slowly turned towards the voice marching angrily towards your way.

“Nanamin- ouch!” The man in front of you standed, trying to defend himself two seconds before being flicked in the forehead. Your eyes went wide.

“You prick, do you know how important the man you promised to invite a drink is?” A stoic voice coming from a muscular body spoke. You knew him, blond hair, prominent cheekbones and deep eye bags due to overwork. “Y/n…” His hard expression faded when he noticed your presence.

Kento Nanami, you were colleagues in the same branch, he was transferred from the Japanese company no more than two months ago.

“Hey,” You greeted him with a sheepish smile, standing immediately when he addressed you.

His hazel eyes analyzed you and then the man in front of you, well, Satoru Gojo, now you knew his name.

“You know each other?” Satoru questioned, adding himself in the conversation, one eyebrow raised mistrustfully, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“I didn’t know you hung out with people of his kind.” The blonde man told you, straightening his tie, embarrassed that you saw the stiff demeanor he specifically saved for Gojo, who Nanami looked up and down.

“My kind?” The white-haired man whined, a hand on his chest exaggerating his offended feelings. “How do you know each other?” He pressed, masking a smile, trying to step closer to you but ineffectively succeeding through being pulled by the collar of his jacket by the other man.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you, y/n.” Nanami turned to you, his friendly tone returning with a subtle smile. “But our flight back to Japan leaves in less than eight hours and we still have to apologize for ditching an executive and finish packing.”

“Wait-” Satoru called.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” The blond man apologized, pushing his companion away.

“No, Nanamin-” He was cut again.

Your gaze tried to pay attention to Nanami but Satoru's voice stole your attention, leaving your stomach in knots from the rush. The white-haired man who was constantly covered by his colleague tried to connect his gaze with yours, the urgency to find a way to contact you again grew in him.

“We shall go.” Nanami quickly said goodbye, pushing Satoru into the sea of people again, you tried to keep up with them. But you got stuck in a crowd of unknown people, you didn't even had the chance to stop them, to say goodbye to him.

A sudden, despondent weight fell upon you. That newly found harmony had been overwritten, you were left with a disjointed heartbeat and unfinished confessions. You felt as if you had been thrown into the driest and hottest desert, accompanied by a withered hope.

You sat down in the first seat you found, your legs feeling devastated not only by tiredness, but also by the fact that you actually got carried away by a conversation with someone whose name you didn't know. You never had experienced this, what should you do? You weren’t sure if you should even look into the matter further. You wanted to think that it was meant to end like this anyway, after all that was the agreement, just a quick chat over a drink.

Your stomach felt queasy, although that was probably due to the alcohol you had ingested.

What ifs came to your mind, what if even after all Satoru was actually playing? Nanami said ‘his kind’, what kind? A player? You didn’t believe that was the case, still, it wouldn’t surprise you if it was.

But, what if everything was truly heart-felt? What if the mesmerizing glimmer of his eyes when he soft-spoke to you was sincere? That damn drowning blue eyes, mocking pearly-white smirk, face carved by the gods and purring delirious voice.

You buried your head in your hands and lost count of the time you spent replaying the memories of the night in your head over and over again, every look, every touch, every breath taken.

You deep in thought scolding yourself at how ridiculously pathetic you were for giving so much importance to an interaction that you didn't know if your thoughts intensified the relevance when someone tapped your shoulder.

“Y/n.” Someone sweetly whispered.

When you raised your head you saw Akira in front of you, a pleased smile on her face. She didn't even knew the reason why you were melted in your seat alone but she could assume it was because you followed her advice.

“It’s time to go home.” She continued saying. You covered your eyes with one hand to block out the radiance of the lights, you didn't even notice when the place began to empty.

“Okay,” You accepted, getting up from your spot, the woman in front of you linked her arms with you to give you support, now the liquor had hit you properly. “My head hurts.” You complained.

“Wait ‘till tomorrow, it will get worse.” She laughed as you growled.

You both walked to the reception to pick up your jackets and bags and then went out to the entrance of the place, watching the cars passing by on the street, not taking long to find Akira's husband's car, who greeted you from the driver's seat.

Akira helped you get into the back seat and then climbed into the passenger seat, you quickly closed your eyes and leaned your head back. You heard her ask if you were okay and you just nodded, taking a sip of the water she offered you.

Your mind was no longer worried about giving the direction of your apartment because they already knew the way from the times you invited them to eat dinner, now you could agonize in peace of mind while you fell asleep.

The movement of the car against the street lulled you and the air conditioning leveled your temperature.

The movement of the car against the street lulled you and the air conditioning leveled your temperature, your consciousness was about to turn off when a 'ding' woke you up, you grimaced at it and tried to go back to sleep, since the ride to your house was long, but the same sound rang out again.

You turned on your phone screen and the notification bubble returned energy to your body.

Nanami (work):

Satoru Gojo

Create new contact / Add to existing contact

You scrolled down the messages and it was an attached photo, you clicked on it and zoomed it, it was a photo of Gojo asleep in the Uber, your lips curved up when you saw how angelic he looked when he wasn't acting like a jerk, his long eyelashes curled when they reached his high cheekbones and his hair looked more disheveled than when you met at the beginning of the night.

The photo had a description on the foot.

Nanami (work): I just send you his contact. If you're really going to give him a chance, do it soon because he whined until he fell asleep about how I sabotaged his chance with a ‘baddie’.

You couldn't help but laugh at Nanami's message and his sincerity. I made you question if he phrased it that way to help his friend or to boycott him. Even so, a relief began to drain your dreadful thoughts from your body, as if that revelation canceled all your personal issues to resolve.

And It did, a little, because deep down you knew that what you lived was real, that the way he saw you was how you supposed, that everytime he tastes cranberry juice he’ll think of you.

But what you didn't know was that you left quite an impression, and that you enchanted him and became the reason his heart pounds even if you're not around.

hi guys!!! I saw a tiktok of a girl who said she wanted to read something about satoru with sabrina’s song bed quem so I worked on it. please tell me if this funny or weird because wrote it in the lapse of 3 weeks and idk how to feel about it. Pls share your thoughts xoxo

[timetravellingkitty]

SAPPHIC ARTISTS TO LISTEN TO

(instead of writing your 69th essay about how Taylor Swift is a closet lesbian)

Starting off with my holy trinity:

Rina Sawayama (she/her, bi/pan): if you follow me you're probably aware of what a huge Rina fan I am. Lots of pop and rock, with a chunk of her earlier songs being R&B. Her debut album SAWAYAMA (my favourite album of all time!!) was her major breakthrough moment as it received critical acclaim and her sophomore album Hold the Girl made her the highest charting Japanese artist in the history of the UK. Known for her musical versatility, she made her acting debut in John Wick 4. I recommend: Cherry, Frankenstein and Bad Friend

Janelle Monáe (she/they, bi/pan): pop, funk, neo-soul and psychedelic. They have an entire series of concept albums about an android named Cindy Mayweather (her ALTER EGO?!) as she commits the crime of falling in love with a human. Lots of social commentary. Her album Dirty Computer comes along with a narrative film and a book taking place in its world. She's starred in movies like Antebellum, Glass Onion and Moonlight. I recommend: Electric Lady, Django Jane and Pynk

Raveena Aurora (she/her, bi): Experimental pop, R&B and soul. Her second album Asha's Awakening is a concept album following the journey of Asha, a Punjabi space princess, as it explores Aurora's South Asian identity and past relationships. Such a beautiful and soft voice to die for. I recommend: Headaches, If Only and Kathy Left 4 Kathmandu

Moving onto some other artists I like:

Boygenius: a band comprising of three sapphic women- Phoebe Bridgers (indie darling™), Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker (the first two are bi while the third is a lesbian). Indie, folk and alternative rock. Very melancholic. I urge you to check out their individual projects too (especially Phoebe's, I love her Punisher album). I recommend: Emily I'm Sorry, Satanist and True Blue

Kelela (she/her, queer): R&G, electronic and alternative R&B. Her debut EP Hallucinogen covers the beginning, middle and end of a relationship in reverse chronological order. Her second album Raven showcases Black futuristic art, which I fuck with. I recommend: Contact, The High and Bluff

Zolita (she/her, lesbian): dark-pop, R&B and electropop. She incorporates witchcraft into her music and mvs. She literally has an EP called Sappho what more could you want? I recommend: Holy, Ashley (the sapphic Speak Now) and Bedspell

Victoria Monét (she/her, bi): pop and R&B. She's written songs for artists like Ariana Grande (7 Rings) and Chloe x Halle (Do It). Go stream her Jaguar EP you will thank me later. I recommend: Touch Me (erotic sapphic song), Cupid and Love U Better

And finally some honourable mentions (can't make this post too long now can I): mxmtoon, Michelle Zauner, Arooj Aftab, Sir Babygirl, Dodie, Chloe Moriondo, Lauren Jauregui, Baby Queen, Sara and Teagan, The Butchies, Sofya Wang and Melissa Etheridge

[farcillove]

farcille just wanna have sex

video description under the cut

an amv of falin and marcille from dungeon meshi set to "girls just wanna have sex" by mazie

lyrics and corresponding clips:

[electronic music sound] ooh nice! - a clip of marcille, a blonde white elf with long hair, blushing and smiling at falin, a brunette white tallman/human with medium length hair, both nude, as she bathes her, saying something lip-synced to the lyrics and then laughing

[guitar riff] - falin jumping on rocks across a river to the beat, marcille staring at her in disbelief. a shot of their feet as they walk on grass.

wooooooo! - falin running and then jumping in joy

Eden is a hedonist, she listens to the Smiths - falin hitting the grass with a stick to the beat

I'm more like a one night stand apologist - marcille looking uncomfortable

She's so out of my league every time I swing, I miss - marcille swinging her staff ambrosia before senshi, a fat Japanese dwarf with a huge black beard and a helmet, grabs her to stop her from casting a spell

But, oh my God, I think we're - falin intertwining her fingers with marcille's

Oh my God, we're gonna kiss - marcille blushing and staring at falin, who is inches away from her in the bath, with wide green eyes

Her hands are on my neck, she's got a grip - marcille holding falin's neck to check on a bruise, looking frustrated. falin is talking

She can turn me on just like a switch - cut to falin blushing with her hand raised to her face looking at marcille

It really gets me goin' when she tells me just like this - a pan shot of marcille in the bath, blushing and staring at falin with hooded eyes

Get out of your head - marcille yelling at falin for eating a berry, blue in the face

Tell your man to drop dead - marcille glaring at shuro, a tall japanese human with long hair in a ponytail, who is staring at falin and blushing

Get into my bed - marcille and falin sitting in bed together talking and smiling

Girls just wanna have sex - closeup shot of falin and marcille staring at each other. marcille is blushing furiously and looking at falin with love in her eyes

Get out of your head - marcille talking to falin in the bath

Tell your man to drop dead - same image with shuro

Get into my bed - marcille tackling falin and pulling her into bed with her, falin yelling in surprise, marcille's staff falling on the ground, and marcille holding falin and smiling wide

Girls just wanna have - marcille smiling at falin, falin staring at marcille

Girls just wanna have - falin smiling at marcille

Girls just wanna have sex - pan of falin in the bath surrounded by glowing bubbles

[bangobeep]

Recent discovery/theory me and a bunch of other jazzpunkers have been talking about.

Considering the little crab at the beach congratulates Polyblank on his birthday, and the dates on the guestbook, we thought it'd be silly if he WAS actually on vacation ON his birthday. Which we left somewhere along the lines of the 6th of May. Polyblank birthday yay! :^)

Something else we noticed was how some of the people in the book didn't add a date, but a symbol, such as the encrypted one (that I'll get into later), milktruck, Hunter S. Thompson and The Editor.

First of all, who are the people on the guestbook?

RAYMOND SCOTT -> In our world, Raymond Scott is considered a pioneer for electronica music! He was an American composer, band leader, pianist, record producer, and inventor of electronic instruments.

ENOCH LUSTIG -> Not a person from the 20th century I could find, though the name Enoch does appear in the Bible. Though I don't really think it's a biblical reference, the character of Enoch is known for living 365 years alongside God, and ascending to heaven in life.

GERD ALBERS -> Though somewhat hard to find information about him in English, Gerd Albers was a german architect and urbanist, prominent in the 20th century.

TILO LYMAN -> A possible reference to Theodore Lyman IV! He was an American physicist and spectroscopist known for important discoveries made regarding ultraviolet light, among others.

DAVID COCKERELL -> A direct reference to the real world person of the same name: David Cockerell! He is an electronics engineer and designer. Regarding this first bit, he's known to have designed countless synthesizer engines which were revolutionary for the electronica community!

JOSEF ARNTZ -> Found genuinely nothing about this guy. Mystery!

PROHÍAS -> A very exciting one!! Antonio Prohías was a Cuban-American cartoonist, known and recognized for many artworks! Among those, is Spy vs. Spy!

黒川 紀章 -> Kurokawa Kisho, or Kisho Kurokawa is a Japanese architect! Probably in here because he's the founder of the Metabolist movement! It was a radical Japanese avant-garde movement pursuing the merging and recycling of architecture styles within an Asian context. This is the Nakagin Capsule Tower (which Luis Hernandez loves so much) guy!

XAVIER ESPERANTO -> Probably a reference to Esperanto, the language! It is actually artificial, and it was devised in 1887 as an international medium of communication, based on roots from the chief European languages. Not too sure what the Xavier bit refers to.

JOHNY THE ROBOT -> The one under Xavier Esperanto's is Johny (with one N, yes) The Robot's! It's written down in the international telegraph alphabet, which you can see here. The complete message says "HELLO MY NAME IS JOHNY THE ROBOT". The telegraph was a huge thing in the 20th century. Meant to be short and meaningful, it started getting used during the war in the place of letters to communicate messages regarding enemy attacks and positions.

B. MARY -> Bloody Mary or, as you may know her, the Lady in Red! She confirms her name is indeed Mary in one of her unused voice lines, which you can find here.

MILKTRUCK -> Explanation not needed. Love you, milktruck.

HUNTER S. THOMPSON -> A direct reference to the real life Hunter S. Thompson! He was an important American journalist and author known for "Gonzo", a journalistic style in which the writer becomes a central figure and participant in the events of the narrative. In Jazzpunk, you can see him as the confused guy hanging around, lost at sea, asking Polyblank for a date at the bar, and being confused about Why Polyblank is in his room (when he breaks in with the master key).

THE EDITOR -> Needs no explanation.

NOW, A FUNNY LITTLE DETAIL:

THESE. As you can see, they all have something different in the 'DATE' section.

As for Xavier Esperanto's, I am not too sure.

Johny The Robot's is unintelligible.

milktruck's is an n/a. Does this mean the milktruck doesn't want to date. Not Applicable. milktruck doesn't date. We love aromantic rep.

Hunter S. Thompson is confused about being asked to date. If you can recall, from the times he's seen in game, he's always generally confused about everything.

Finally, The Editor has a money symbol. The Editor will go on a date for money. LOL! Fitting.

[artificial-transmutations]

Getting into the song

"Oh! My! God!" Evan cried out in amazement over the whirring of fans. Him and his lifelong friend Joel were in Evans basement room, reviving the tradition of their yearly LAN party after a hiatus of several years.

Of course, there was no real need for physical presence anymore, now that internet connections were stable and cheap enough. Still, Evan was a bit of a traditionalist and had begged his best friend until he had finally caved. They had already played for one and a half day, and currently, both nerds were tired and taking a break, surfing the internet.

Joel, the way bigger one of them both, turned around with his hand in the bag of chips and looked at him quizzically.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Starblush is releasing a new album next month!" Evan said excitedly.

"Star...blush" Joel repeated. "That's some kind of band I suppose?"

Evan frowned. "It's not 'some kind of band'. It's *the* very best band on earth!"

Joel had quickly googled the name and rolled his eyes.

"Oh god, I think I remember. Is that this Japanese boyband you're so obsessed about? With that idiot front man?"

"Komori Yoshitora" came the answer at once. "And he is not an idiot, he is just the most wonderful man - on. Earth. He has such a good voice, and his lyrics touch your heart, and..."

"Ookay." Joel raised his arms, with some crumbs falling to the floor in the process. "I admit I overlooked something very important in my opinion. That you are obviously utterly and deeply in love with that guy. Seriously, do you think he writes those songs himself? I wouldn't even count on him singing himself. It's a fricking boyband. The target audience are 12 year old girls!"

Evan was slowly getting agitated. "It doesn't matter if he writes the songs himself. He sings them, yes, no playback, and he just gives the words so much... soul! Why would I care about the target audience? Also, I'm not gay, but that guy is so ridiculously good looking that I would give him a blowjob any day."

Evan turned up his speakers and went to YouTube. "Here, I'm gonna show you one of their tracks. Once you heard it, you are going to love it, I'm sure!"

With that, he started a music video featuring the charismatic Japanese lead singer along with the rest of his boyband, singing a Japanese pop song on stage.

Only a few seconds in, Joel interrupted the singing: "Do you even understand what he's singing? Do you speak Japanese? Because I don't."

"No, I don't *speak* Japanese." Evan replied. "You have to look up the translated lyrics of course!"

Joel shook his head. He did have to admit that the soft, sensual voice of the lead singer didn't sound too bad, although he couldn't understand the meaning of the words. As the track ended, he said: "It's okay, I guess. Still a boyband." After a short hesitation, he added: "Show me another track."

Evan grinned in triumph and started the next song. This one was a bit faster, and the lead singer moved around more on stage.

Joel found himself really digging the rhythm. At first, he only tapped his foot to the song, but quickly found himself moving his massive body to the electronic music, doing something similar to dancing.

Although Joel hated every kind of body movement, getting into the rhythm came surprisingly easy, as if he had heard the song a hundred times before, not right now for the first time. A gurgling noise came from his belly, as his body mass slowly vanished. Before long, he had to hold up his pants or they would fall down. Evan didn't notice, too glued were his eyed to the music video.

It didn't take another request from Joel to start up the next song after this one ended. Between the videos, however, Joel had to get rid of his glasses, because his vision was getting blurry with them on. They were too big anyway, as his face was getting smoother and smaller. Moving his slim body had become easy, natural even. As he moved to the beat of this new song, slowly all body hair, including his beard silently fell from his body, sinking to the ground like snow.

There came the bridge, then another chorus. As the chorus began, Joel started to sing along. He knew the lyrics by heart and closed his eyes while singing, putting all his soul into the words.

As Evan heard the singing, he turned around, only to freeze with his mouth open. There, in his mom's basement, singing and dancing was... not Joel anymore. No, that was Komori Yoshitora, himself! The last few details changed along the last notes of the song. Komori's hair became night black, and his facial features turned delicate and well groomed, with a slight smile on it.

There was a long moment of silence between the two before Komori spoke first in broken English: "So, did I hear that right? You would give me a blowjob any day?"

As Evan nodded, still speechless and still with his mouth open, Komori smiled again and removed his shirt. "Good. I love fans like you that aren't 12 year old girls."

This story was written as a request by a subscriber over at my riot page who chose to make it publicitly available! If you, too, want to request themes or ideas, consider joining the Transformation Titan tier yourself :)

[catientie]

LIFE ON THE STREET | PREV & NEXT ➜ VACATION BIBLE STUDY

AKITO SHINONOME — main vocalist alongside kohane & songwriter of vbs. one of those music artists that can also paint/draw (it’s that shinei shinonome influence i’m afraid…). has the best music taste of the group. project sekai entertainment stylists tend to remove his piercing so fans so feral when he has his full set of piercings on his posts. pre-debut songs of his were just him beatboxing and he never posted it.

TOYA AOYAGI — main rapper and composer/producer of vbs. despite of being a son of a famous classical artist, people preferred his hip hop and electronic side of toya. self writes all of his raps. has lots of song credits under his name. stands very awkwardly in award shows and then perform absolutely perfectly onstage. i think would often say just how much coffee he takes every single day that they might get concerned for his health.

KOHANE ASUZAWA — main vocalist alongside with akito & songwriter of vbs. had no official “training” but still one of the best vocalists under project sekai ent. the spokesperson for her group during award shows. stan twt debated whether her or an was the official leader but kohane is the “face of the group”. photographs for other groups except her own :((. ppl still have yet to find her dark gangster past…

AN SHIRASHI — main dancer and producer of vbs. her father was a popular artist before so people were excited and shocked when his daughter debuted under the same company. COOK #1 in the whole group. accounts often say how “an isn’t beating the gay allegations” whenever kohane is around. she’s filipino, fight me. snatched waist from all of that working out!!! crop tops >>> i got a feeling that she would have some kind of tattoo on her back/lower belly/waist.

SYNOPSIS. after your successful comeback as a soloist with your album called “angel destroyed”, your sudden fame rose and landed you a contract with the most famous japanese idol company called project sekai entertainment. not to long after, a rampage on idoltwt involving with you and vivid bad squad member akito shinonome after he mentioned you in his live. unknown to him, this led to massive changes to your new and upcoming relationships with him.

TAGLIST. @lampiridaes @hpd--ena @finanah @totallynot-alex @mybelovedakito @akitosheart @sillynene-13 @ariisho

NOTES ➜ 1. atp i may as well rush through the intros and get the first chapter up soon 🫡 2. making the usernames made me giggle a little bit 🤭 (i’m in love with akito’s and an’s the most 🗣️🗣️) 3. ignore the whole 6 posts on instagram on all the accounts, just pretend that everyone has more posts 😖😖

CATIENTIE. any acts of plagiarism, tracing or translation is strictly prohibited on any other platforms.

[greed-the-dorkalicious]

All the discussion around AI lately got me thinking about an incident recently in which a guy got his ass sorely beat by the vocal synth community

For those of you not familiar, “vocal synths” in the electronic music sense typically refers to programs like Vocaloid, SynthV, UTAU, Alter/Ego, DeepVocal, etc., digital instruments that allow composers to create, as the name implies, synthesized vocal tracks. The way they work is that they draw from libraries (referred to as “voicebanks” or VB for short) of special studio recorded* vocal samples from singers singing different syllables at a consistent pitch. The program then splices these together and adjusts the pitch to match whatever notes you put in- You want to do All Star, it’s gonna string together “[suh][m] [buh][di] [wuh][n][s] [tO][ld] [mi]” or something like that. Basically it’s an extremely complicated sampler.

(*unless you’re using UTAU or another build-your-own-vocal program in which the “studio” is only metaphorical, and is sometimes somebody’s basement with a Rockband mic plugged into a laptop.)

Now, there is no threat of vocal synths putting actual singers out of a job. Even the best vocal synths always have a bit of a robotic sound to them, and the voicebanks take hundreds of hours of recording time from you know, actual singers. Any piece made with vocal synths has to be worked by a human hand in a process called “tuning” in order to sound any good, whether you’re trying to make it sound human or leaning into the robotic sound. This isn’t something that’s being done on a corporate scale to cut costs- This is something pretty much exclusively being done by small scale indie music hobbyists because we fucking love Hatsune Miku and her weird buddies. Most folks are less interested in doing something that sounds 1:1 like a human voice and more in going beyond what humans can do to make shit like this

One of the leading vocal synths right now is Synthesizer V (SynthV), created by a company called Dreamtonics. SynthV offers fancier versions of some of its voicebanks, which are called “AI” voicebanks. These use machine learning trained on, again, professionally recorded and legally licensed vocal samples to help make songs sound a little bit more smooth, a little bit more in line with whatever singing style you’re aiming for. Everything else previously mentioned still applies: They’re still painstakingly recorded and programmed, you still need to tweak it yourself to get it to sound just right, and it’s still never going to sound 100% like a human. And that’s fine!

For this next bit y’all are gonna have to trust me because the tweets all got deleted, though if anyone wants I’m happy to pull up screencaps of talking shit about it with other vocal synth folks when it happened lmfao

So basically. Since ChatGPT type grifters have convinced people that “AI” means “magic plagiarism button”, back in April some dipshit NFT guy on Twitter started complaining on an official SynthV update post that SynthV (which he apparently believed to be called “Dreamtonics”, the name of the company that makes it) should allow people to make voicebanks from “their own voice”, insisting that it would be easy and PROFITABLE!™ to do so. He also clearly did not actually mean “their own voice” but rather “the voices of celebrity singers shamelessly lifted without their consent”, which was made extra obvious from a tweet on his own page that was like “Teehee people in monitored Twitter spaces don’t realize their voices are being recorded and fed into AI!” which he then deleted after I linked it on the thread about SynthV. lol.

Dude proceeded to get whupped by actual vocal synth people basically saying shit along the lines of “Yeah we can all tell you just want to commit cheap plagiarism, jackass” and “Dude why are you here when you clearly don’t understand the very very basics of what this software even is” and “Go make an UTAU voicebank if it’s so easy then”. (UTAU being a Japanese freeware program that hasn’t been updated since 2013. Creating an UTAU voicebank is complicated and takes a lot of time and technical knowledge.) He still refused to learn the basics of how vocal synths work, and proceeded to ask if “UTAU or Diff is most compatible with Dreamtonics”, a question absolutely no one could make any sense of? Lol.

Anyway, I don’t have anywhere in particular I’m going with this, I just think AI grifters are morons, and it’s obnoxious how the vague and misleading term “AI” has gotten nigh-mythologized by shady tech companies to the point that people can’t tell the difference between perfectly reasonable assistive technology and magic plagiarism.

Btw, fun fact for anyone who’s wondering, there do in fact exist legally/morally questionable UTAU voicebanks spliced from outside vocals. These are called “jinriki” voicebanks and not only do they take the same amount (if not more) of hard work as any other voicebank, they’re far from the insta-Beyoncé this dude was aiming for, and instead they sound um. like this

[errorryx]

I've been listening to so many female artists lately, it's gotten to the point where they're consistently outnumbering male artists in my playlists. It's an incredible feeling to have successfully re-centered my focus and appreciation on women instead of men, and I wish everyone could feel this kind of joy. So I'm gonna try to do something about it.

If you're into music, I'd really love it if you took the time to reblog this post with your favorite female artists/female-led bands in the tags, comments, additions to the main post, whatever you want. I want the notes to be a resource for people to find new music if they don't know where to start. Most of us have probably listened to Mitski or Florence before (though I love both of those artists, don't get me wrong), so I'd love to hear about some lesser-known musicians. I don't know if this post will take off, but I really hope it does!

A small selection of my personal recommendations:

The Narcotix: they're an incredibly talented and criminally underrated duo. I shout their music out every chance I get because I've never heard anything else like it and I think everyone should give them a chance. They make complex, beautifully orchestrated music, described by their website as psychedelic art-rock. I think folk music fans would probably eat this up.

Thao: formerly of Thao & The Get Down Stay Down, she was the subject of an intense hyperfixation of mine last year. She started out doing Appalachian folk-rock and pivoted into indie music with some more electronic elements. I love her to death and it's hard to condense that adoration into a brief summary, but suffice it to say she's an amazing musician.

Japanese Breakfast: I think she's pretty popular actually, but I need everybody to hear the above song. It's been driving me crazy for months now. She's got a very distinctive way of climbing up to high notes that just sounds heavenly, and it really shines through on this track. (If you're more into bouncy pop music, check out her song Be Sweet, you'll love it.)

If you're looking for more specific recommendations anywhere in the realm of indie, rock, or folk music, please don't be afraid to send me an ask or a message! Let me know what you're already listening to and I'll do my best to throw you something I think you'll like. And if you're thinking of adding your own recommendations, don't limit yourself to those genres just because it's what I happen to like. All types of music are welcome.

[crimium]

A ted talk on why Neo-Traditionalism of Japan is underrated

The album announcement has put me in a hifuu mood which made me fall in love with NToJ. At first, I never really cared for the album. In fact, I used to think it was the worst one out of ZUN's Music Collection. But after listening to it thoroughly, I think this album rocks actually. And I'm gonna tell you why.

the remixes

The songs that ZUN chose to remaster for this album are great picks imho, i mean, Unkown X? Fate of Sixty Years??? The new versions of these tracks are all fantastic, because they update the instrumentation to sound more akin to that of TD and DDC, while not straying too far from the original versions, making for an awesome listening experience. The best remix in this album hands down is Let's Live in a Lovely Cemetery, which adds a nice blend of traditional Japanese instruments. I'd go as far to say it's an upgrade from the original from Ten Desires.

2. The originals

Now even though the remixes are great, that doesn't stop the original tracks from being just as fantastic. They al have this really calming, soothing vibe to them, that really makes the album nice to listen to when relaxing. The instrumentation is also fantastic, blending traditional instruments with electronic ones, perfectly fitting the "Neo-traditionalism" aspect of the album. All of the tracks were great, but there are two that really stuck with me. First, Izanagi Object. It starts mysterious and slowly builds it's way up to a relaxing but up-beat melody for the climax of the song. This one in particular leans more to the futuristic side of things. On the other hand, Led On By a Cow to Visit Zenoku Temple leans more to the traditional side of things, with a serene, almost nature-esque vibe. I also love how the Theme of Eastern Story leitmotif is handled here, it sort of starts off like a title theme, and ends up sounding like a stage theme towards the end. Love it.

3. The story

The story (and the entire album to an extent) is a sequel to Trojan Green Asteroid, where Merry is done recovering from her otherworldly sickness. After Renko and Merry reunite, they start exploring Shinshuu. There's a lot of neat lore in here! It mentions how there's no real vegetation left on earth, and that it's all artificial, which is a nice reminder that hifuu takes place in the future, and it also states that Merry has no family living in Japan, suggesting she's from another country. It also shows that Merry's power getting stronger caused Renko to worry, showing that they do care about each other. It's a good read.

In conclusion, go give NToJ a listen! It's a great album, and also a nice recap for the upcoming new hifuu album.

[rosietrace]

Ernest Shelley

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“No matter what happens…

I swear my heart to you, Wife.”

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— Ernest Shelley

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General Information

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Full Name — Ernest Adam Shelley

↳ Ernest: Derived from the old high German Ernust, meaning “serious, earnest”. It happens to be the name of Victor Frankenstein's younger brother, Ernest Frankenstein.

↳ Adam: The Hebrew word for “Man”. In the Genesis in the Old testament, Adam was made from the earth by God, said to supposedly be the first human; Adam is also the official name of “Frankenstein’s Monster”.

↳ Shelley: Derived from an English surname that originally derived from a place name meaning, “clearing on a bank” in Old English; The most famous bearers of this surname were Percy Bysshe Shelley, and his wife, Mary Shelley, the author of Frankenstein.

Japanese ver. — エルネスト アダム シェリー

Romaji ver. — Erunesto Adamu Sherī

Twisted from: The Creature

❐ — The Creature (Lisa Frankenstein/リサ・フランケンシュタイン)

V/A(日本語): Hidenobu Kiuchi (木内 秀信)

↳ voices Victor Van Dort, Corpse Bride

V/A(英語/EN): Chris Sarandon

↳ voices Jack Skellington, The Nightmare before Christmas

Age: 19 (Biologically), ??? (Chronologically)

Birthday: February 14th

Horoscope: Aquarius ♒

Species: Human, Reanimated Corpse

Height: 186 cm

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Sea Green

Gender/Pronouns: Male, He/They

Sexuality: Demiromantic

Dominant hand: Right

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Extra Information

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Homeland: The Queendom of Roses

『 Family:

Elizabeth ‘Lizzie’ Shelley — “Wife”

William — Older brother †

Viktor — Second older brother †

Lizabeta — Sister-in-law † 』

Dormitory: Terrovania (@terrovaniadorm / @hallowed-delights )

School Year: 3rd

Class: 3-B (seat no. 31)

Club: Literature Club

Best class(es): Music, Literature

Worst class(es): Alchemy, all things scientific

Like(s): Lizzie, piano, sheet music, waltzing, late night walks, dressing up, poetry, writing, calligraphy, axes /j

Dislike(s): Not being around Lizzie, losing a limb, not being able to speak, “electronic devices”, being talked behind his back, Lizzie's stepmother, Lizzie getting hurt, badly written poetry, Rook /j, memories of his parents, literally anything involving the sciences

Hobbies: Tanning /j, pianoforte, writing sheet music, poetry writing/reading, late night walks, late night dancing

Talent(s): Pianoforte, literature, writing sheet music, waltzing, (ax murdering)

Flaw(s): Codependent, overprotective, judgmental, “over emotional”, old fashioned (to some degree)

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Personality

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Ernest is a man of his word. Whatever promises he's made to the people in his life, he'll go take that promise to the grave; for that is how he expresses his loyalty to those he loves and cares for.

He has a very expressive face, many people have noted. Though he cannot verbalize his thoughts now, he can convey them through the means of physical emotion.

Though very, very quiet in ways other than his… lack of a voice, Ernest is quite passionate once you get to know him! He finds great passion in what he's good at, and is easily flustered by those — Lizzie, especially — who compliment him for his talents.

It's best to not get ahead of oneself with Ernest, however. He's actually rather sensitive, over-emotional to such a degree that he can't help but shed a few acid tears every now and then; and no matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to maintain control of them.

He loves and cares wholly, wholeheartedly; and those who dare hurt the people he loves shall meet the inevitable consequences. Ernest's devotion to those he loves knows no bounds, and he isn't afraid of taking certain measures to ensure their safety.

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Unique Magic: 『 Strange… it is unlisted 』

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Thoughts on them

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『 This file is currently unavailable 』

— Maxwell Murray, Ernest's housewarden (Oc by @/terrovaniadorm)

“Peculiar, that he is… oh how I desire to run a test or two on his autonomy… alas, that is not possible. For now.”

— Walton Morrigan, Ernest's dorm mate

“Oh Ernest! He’s… alright! Truth be told.... I knew him before. I was to be engaged to him. He was pleasant but we were only following our parents’ wishes. We came to the conclusion we were incompatible and the marriage fell through. I wonder if he remembers… I’m glad to see him happy.”

— Lilith Winchester, Ernest's dorm mate (Oc by @/starry-night-rose)

“Ernest… How do I even begin? I’ve always felt drawn to him, ever since I saw that bust of him on top of his grave. He was a real piece of work back then, missing an ear, a hand, you know that sort of stuff. He’s a really emotional guy and I relate to that. He let me be myself around him, something I wasn’t able to do for a long time. He’s been there for me for my highs and lows. I think… I think I love him.”

— Elizabeth “Lizzie” Shelley, Ernest's ‘wife’ (Oc by @starry-night-rose)

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Additional Trivia

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✑ Main Theme: The Finale/“We’re simply meant to be” from The Nightmare before Christmas

✑ Backstory: 『 Unnamed Gentleman 』

༝ㅤ･ㅤ˚ㅤ。ㅤ.ㅤ⋆ㅤ• 　。·　『✞』

✞ Ernest doesn't remember his name. He likely would have remembered it, had it not been for his unnamed grave.

✞ He, also, doesn't remember his birthday! Lizzie was the one to declare his “new birthday” to be Valentine's Day.

✞ Due to his… predicament, Ernest is unable to verbally communicate; he compromises by communicating with Lizzie with disgruntled grunting, sign language, and writing things down on paper, or on her hand.

✞ Incredibly protective of Lizzie. She gets a papercut and he's treating it like she got stabbed in the abdomen and is taking action in making sure she gets better!

✞ Never quite had a good relationship with his parents… or his brothers.. or just his family, in general; he was — at least — on agreeable terms with his sister-in-law.

✞ While he isn't bad with technology, Ernest doesn't like using it all that much; the most you'll see of him ‘typing’ is him using a typewriter Lizzie got for him.

✞ Almost every single one of Ernest's poems, writings, even the titles of his musical pieces, are dedicated to Lizzie.

✞ A ride or die kind of friend. In Lizzie's case, he's a ride or die “husband”. Oh, she committed a murder? God forbid, women do anything!

✞ Surprisingly feminist for someone born in the 1800s!... He can't help but still have some old fashioned views that he needs to unlearn, however. Fortunately, Lizzie's there to help him along the way.

✞ His face is comically expressive. Anything Rook says that sounds like an attempt at poetry, Ernest's face contorts to making him look like he just developed an aneurysm.

↳ Safe for certain, Ernest really doesn't like Rook 😭

✞ Ernest finds it incredibly reassuring that Lizzie doesn't care that he isn't all that scientific of a man. It was something he was deeply insecure about when he was still alive, something he was ashamed of— and he felt himself fall in love with her even more for her acceptance of him.

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Appearance

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Ernest's Tags

#ernest shelley • #『 ernest 🪓 』 • #『 the shelley couple 🪓 』

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[cru5h-cascades]

What I hope are the possible outcomes for grandfest:

Past victory: 2000s themed Splatoon game that takes inspiration from the outfits at the time, webcore & vaporwave aesthetics, and 2000s rock, pop, and rap. I'd love to see like a the Killers or My Chemical Romance themed idol group since we got pop musician idols for S1, rap/general electronic music in S2, and whatever we got for S3 (I dunno what specific genre Deep Cut is tbh) (I wanna say folk but what part of their music screams folk?). It's about damn time we get rock-centric idols, damn it!

For our two new weapon classes I'd like to see yoyos and skates as new weapons. Not sure why but it seems fitting for a 2000s centric Splatoon game.

Present victory: basically if present wins I want the next game to focus on city life stuff for aesthetics. Big lights, graffiti, and street wear. For the idols, maybe they should be hip hop-centric or make music similar to the stuff in Jet Set Radio and Bomb Rush Cyberfunk since those games' OSTs scream "city life" to me.

For the two new weapon classes, I wanna see spray cans and gauntlets to go with the city life theme (why gauntlets? 'cause fist fights exist, duh!).

Future victory: cyberpunk aesthetic, baby! I'd love to see gear like that one S2 Japanese exclusive armor set thing and those robotic lookin' amiibo gear sets in the base game! For idols, they should make more synthwave/darkwave music because of the future theming.

For new weapons, I was thinking some sort of hand cannon of sorts and mace/whips.

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

The Music Goes On and On

Rating: K/General

Setting: in the decade before the main story.

Synopsis: Shinji is going about his daily life at his job in a music store, until he sees an old face from the past.

AN: the winner of my first poll! This was fun to write, so thank you to everyone who voted for it!

I hope I did Shinji justice here. He's a character I love, and I've always wanted to know what he and Visoreds did after escaping the the Living world and before they introduced themselves to Ichigo. I've broached the topic before in As Months Go By, As Season Change part II, but I wanted to write a specific instance of his life in the World of the Living. I had intended this to be more comedic, but well...it's me, and it ended up more angsty with one sappy moment.

In terms of research, I looked into Japanese 1990’s music and the workforce during the 1970’s. I'll briefly go over it here, but if you want to skip it and get to the fic, continue to the line break before the story begins.

For music, I mainly used information from this article about Japanese jazz bands, doing Youtube searches for 1990s Japanese music, and searching for what records stores in Japan typically look like.

The songs, albums, and bands mentioned in this fic are:

B'z: a Japanese rock duo who sold millions of albums during the 1990's. They're one of Japan's best-selling artists even to this day, having sold over 80 million albums. Sasori ni sasa reta by Kimidori Review by Glay: this was one of the best-selling albums in Japan for 1997, and sold over 2 million copies in it's first week. Casiopea: a Japanese jazz fusion band who have created over 40 albums as of the time of writing this fic. They've been active since the 1970's, and have gone through four phases with different band members; in this story, they're in their second phase. Light and Shadow by Casiopea Casiopea by Casiopea Yasuko Agawa: a Japanese jazz and blues singer. Before releasing her debut album, Love-Bird, in 1978, she starred in movies in the early 1970’s. This included the Bloodthirst Trilogy, a Japanese horror film trilogy that involves unconnected stories about vampires. Agawa starred in Chi o suu bara, which is the final film in the trilogy and it's title has been translated to Evil of Dracula in English. Love-Bird by Yasuko Agawa All Right by Me by Yasuko Agawa Scenery by Ryo Fuuki (also mentioned in As Months Go By, As Season Change part II)

In terms of the workforce research, I had to change the timeline in light of what I found. Rather than seeing a coworker Shinji knew from 30 years ago, it's now 21 years. This is because the store they worked at together, Yodobashi Camera, opened it's first store in 1975, and in this fic Shinji got a job with the company a year later. In it's early years, the stores primarily sold cameras and photography equipment, but eventually branched off into other technology and home electronics such as TVs and PCs. Nowadays it's online version is incredibly popular and one of Japan's most visited online shopping platforms. Why a camera store? I can't explain why, but I have this weird feeling that Shinji might've worked in a camera store at some point. Maybe because old camera's used to have inverted lenses, meaning they could be upside down (and we all know how Shinji feels about things that are inverted).

Finally, there's a slight joke with the name Shinji chooses to use here. From what I saw in my research, ‘Mako’ can use the same Kanji characters as ‘Shinji’, (which are ‘真子‘ and if I’m not mistaken have the same meanings of ‘truth’/’sincerity’ and ‘children’) but both names can also be spelled using other Kanji characters too (but it changes the meaning of the name). While ‘Mako’ tends to be primarily a girl's name, it seems it can also be a boy’s name too, and from what I can see, the spelling of it can be same for both boys and girls when using the same characters as ‘Shinji’. If I got any of this wrong, please let me know so I can change it. My sources for all of this were here and here.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this!

______________________________________

The bell above the music store’s entrance rings as the latest customer leaves. Shinji doesn’t glance their way, taking and unfurling a poster of B’z from his cart. After pinning it to the wall, he lifts out a box of CDs to restock the ‘New Releases’ display rack at the front.

 Karakura Beats Records Store is empty save for him and Kana, who resumes pricing the latest shipment of vinyls behind the cash register. The morning sunlight pours in through the many posters and notices stuck to the windows facing out on to the quiet street, casting blocks of shadow over the many vinyls and CDs.

From the speakers high up on the walls, a tune he’s never heard before begins to play quietly through the air. Shinji drums his fingers on the CD rack to the tune in between stacking in copies of ‘Review’ – which will no doubt be gone by the end of the week if the hype around the album and the sales figures from other music stores are to be believed.

Eventually, he’s swaying his body to the beat too. “Yo, Kana-san!”

She looks up, her bright, dyed hair falling over one shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Which track is this?” he asks, still swaying as he tops up the rack the. “It’s a good one, I might buy the album if the rest is any good.”

“ ‘Sasori ni sasa reta’ by Kimidori.” She grins. “I knew I could get you to like something I like.”

“Didn’t think you’d like hip hop.”

“Not much of it, but I heard this one when I was in my last year of high school.”

Done with the CDs, Shinji returns to his cart and rolls it behind the cash register. “Ya done with those?” he says, pointing at the vinyls.

Sticking a price on the top one, Kana picks up the pile and drops them into the cardboard box that just had 'Review' in it. “Done now.”

He goes to pick it up, but blinks down at the cover. There’s three shadows on a white surface, and above them with is a de-saturated sky, and running along the middle is a dark lake and the silhouettes of hills and houses. The album’s title is in English, as is the band name. Even so, he recognises the name without having to read the blue slip on the vinyl’s side with a translation. “Huh, when did this come out?”

“In September. The old drummer came back, apparently.”

“Ya mean Jimbo Akira?”

“Yeah, but it’s got a guest drummer too.” Kana cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’m surprised you don’t know. You like Casiopea, right?”

Shinji shrugs. “Some of their stuff, sure. I can take ‘em or leave them, just surprised I didn’t know about this one.”

“They release something every year, right?” Kana says, moving on to the next stacks of vinyls and CDs to price. “Shouldn’t be too surprising.”

No, it shouldn’t. He’d been listening to their music since their self-titled debut album in 1979, and even though he’d lost some interest in their music by the late 1980’s, he still kept tabs on them. But then, even after being in the world for as long as he has, the passage of time is so different it sometimes escapes him.

Resisting the urge to shake his head, Shinji puts two other boxes of CDs and vinyls Kana had prepared into his cart, and rolls it down the right-side aisle.

Hecomes to a stop at his favorite section. Written above the display racks and cupboards is ‘Jazz’. When he’d started here three months ago, while he'd been impressed the store's collection was better than others he'd come across, the section had been smaller and in desperate need to of a wider range of artists. After showing his extensive knowledge about jazz and blues music had been one of the reason’s he’d been hired by he and Kana’s manager.

Aside from the usual roles in customer services, he’d been tasked with refurbished the store a little, putting up posters for bands and music artists on the walls and redoing the titles over each genre section. While doing the latter task, he had to withhold the temptation to write every genre name upside down – he’d tried to argue it would make them stand out from other stores, but backed down when Kana protested against the idea, saying ti would confuse customers.

The jazz section was his unofficial space in the whole store, the one where he got to arrange it as he wanted. The entire row against the wall has a wide variety of artists, from the famous to the up and coming to local talent. He goes to the where the rest of Casiopea’s discography is and clears a space for the vinyls.

The bell rings again. Kana greets their new customer from the counter and offers assistance. Judging from the voice that thanks her, the person is elderly.

Shinji doesn’t listen to the rest, but as he makes his way down the middle aisle to stack some vinyls and CDs in the ‘Rock’ section, the older man remains in his peripheral. He takes out the box, balancing it on the rack with his arm over the top, and unloads the vinyls two at a time into an empty space with the others. He frowns at the sensation in the back of his mind; something nags in the back of his mind, begging him to look at the man.

The bell rings again. This time by the sounds of it, it’s one of their regulars, a young woman who’s name doesn’t remember. She and Kana chatter away, discussing the weather and family. It’s so ordinary, so far away from all of the worlds he’s ever known. He hasn��t been in the Soul Society for decades, and yet there are times like now when it feels like only yesterday he was a captain.

With all the vinyls stacked in, he begins to lift the almost empty box back into the cart. However, his arm bumps into someone, clattering the records inside. Shinji turns to apologize, but his throat closes up involuntarily when he sees it’s the older man from before.

“Oh, sorry, please excuse…” The old man trails off.

Shinji frowns, that nagging sensation getting stronger now that he has a closer look at the man. He’s not as old as he thought. His hair is greying, but there’s still some dark hair on the top of his head and in his thick eyebrows. Wrinkles ring around his eyes and the ends of his mouth, but they aren’t deep, only just beginning to show more prominently. Behind his glasses, the man’s eyes are dark brown, and widened with probably the same strange feeling of familiarity as Shinji is experiencing.

Then, when the man tries to speak again, and his brows furrow into a frown, it hits Shinji.

He nearly has to bite his tongue from saying the man’s name aloud. “No harm done,” he somehow manages to say without any of the spiking nerves thrumming through him.

He tries to remain calm as he continues stacking the vinyls in, but he can feel the man’s – Keiji Mimura’s -- lingering gaze on him, even as he turns and pretends to browse the albums in front of him.

He has to get out of this fast. He can hear the cash register going; Kana must be ringing up the regular, which means she’ll be free any second now. He hoists the box back into the cart, planning to head back to the counter, then offer to take over the register for Kana. She’d go out on to floor, probably keep Keiji distracted and try to sell him some obscure rock album she likes. If he ends up buying the album, Kana will likely keep the conversation going all the way to register, get Shinji to move aside so she can ring Keiji up, and then he’ll be gone from the store, and Shinji’s life again.

Shinji doesn’t even make it three steps when Keiji speaks up behind him. “…Hirako-san?”

Shinji has no choice but to stop and turn around. In the face of the man’s shocked expression, Shinji somehow manages a smile. “Excuse me? Did you say something.” It sounds lame even to his own ears.

The man shakes his head. “Forgive me, it’s just…you look and sound like someone I used to know.”

It takes everything in Shinji to not drop the smile, but even then, the corners of his mouth twitch. How to get out of this?

He and the other Visoreds had managed to keeps their identities a secret up until now, switching jobs every few years, never getting close to any coworkers and never revealing anything about their personal lives. They mostly find work outside of Karakura Town in the major cities, countryside towns, and to a smaller extent the towns that surrounded Karakura. The commutes were a pain, but they needed to make a living and not expose themselves as being ‘ageless’ to local residents. This was his first job in Karakura Town, and it had partly been out of desperation when he couldn’t get another anywhere else.

He can dismiss Keiji, just treat this as an awkward encounter with an elderly man who had a case of mistaken identity. It happens, more often than he realized before being forced into the World of the Living.

It’s what he should do.

Later, as he's walking back to the warehouse and then while being lectured by the other Visoreds after telling them about his day, he will reflect on this moment where he chose to do something far more troublesome for himself.

Shinji’s widens his eyes, pretending to come to a realisation. “Ah! Wait. I think I understand your confusion.” He chuckles and shakes his head to himself for effect, leaving the older man bewildered. “I’m terribly sorry, sir,” Shinji continues. “Did you used to work with Hirako Shinji?”

“Y-Yes!” Keiji stammers out.

“Ah, ya see, he’s my father. I’m his son.”

The older man blinks, briefly scanning Shinji from head to toe. “He never said anything about children,” he murmurs under his breath.

Shinji pretends he didn’t hear it, remaining rooted in place, grin plastered wide over his face and a fisted hand on his hip. Seeing the man’s unfaltering skepticism, he bows slightly and holds his hand out to him. “I’m Hirako…Mako.”

Of all the names! He purses his lips and continues to stare at the ground, hard, as he inwardly begs, Please don’t think too much on it, please don’t think to much on it, Keiji-san, don’t think --

After a beat, the older man bows and shakes Shinji’s hand. “I’m Mimura Keiji. Forgive me for before, it’s just that you look so much like Hirako Shinji – your father, I meant.”

“That’s fine. I’ve gotten that quite a bit, actually. Everyone’s always saying I look like my old man.”

That gets a huff of a chuckle out Keiji; Shinji can’t tell whether it’s due to the comment, how informally he’d spoken, or how the way he spoke was identical to his 'father'. It's probably the latter.

Keiji lets go of Shinji’s hand and they both straighten back up. The store bell rings, briefly drawing Shinji’s attention to Kana. To his chagrin she doesn’t look his way, instead continuing her chat with their regular as she makes her purchases.

“I worked with your father a long time ago.” Keiji explains. “We were coworkers”

Shinji keeps his grin small as he returns his focus back to his old coworker. “Where did you work with him? The old man’s had a lot of jobs across his life.”

Keiji smiles. “So he said. We used to work at Yodobashi Camera together.”

“Ah yeah! He was a sales clerk there. He barely knew a thing about camera’s when he started, huh?”

Another huff of a chuckle broadens the old man's smile. “He learned on the job. I was no expert at the time by any means, but he even had to learn which button to press to take a picture.”

Shinji chortles, both from the memory and the embarrassment of those years. He’d been the World of the Living for several decades by that point. He’d known about cameras but was so concerned with training to control his Visored abilities and stay afloat money-wise he hadn’t ever learned about some of the most basic things for humans.

“He was all right with the other technology of course,” Keiji continues. “We often had shifts together. Every now and then we went for drinks at ‘The Golden Cup’ with everyone else.”

Despite himself, Shinji can’t help but grin wider as nostalgia flutters in his chest. He and the other Visoreds tried to maintain a certain distance between themselves and the cowrokers in whatever job they worked in. Regardless, on rare occasions, he’d indulge himself and go drinking with his coworkers. He did it more often with the employees of Yodobashi Camera than in any other job, and he’d never had a bad night out with them. They were a good bunch of hard workers who knew how to party even harder afterwards -- or at least as much as they could given that they all needed to wake up and go to work the next day.

“I -- He mentioned that too,” Shinji eventually says. “He always came home in a good mood after those nights, tripping over his feet."

Keiji gives a nervous snort. "I must admit, I did worry about how much he drank sometimes."

Shinji did too. He recalls the concerned pinch of Keiji's brows when he was about to leave, wobbling on his feet. He rarely got drunk, and he didn't always understand why he chose to get drunk with those guys.

"Nah, he was always sharp," Shinji says, "even when drunk. Heck, he could even play mahjong while drunk and still win." He let's Keiji's chuckle fill in the air for a pause. "He used to play that game with his coworkers too, right?”

“Ah, yes! I used to enjoy our games.” Keiji sighs. “It’s been a long time since then, and Yodobashi Camera has certainly grown bigger and bigger over the years.”

“Ya can’t escape them these days, huh? Feels like they’re at every railway station in the major cities.” Shinji leans back against the vinyls racks, trying to appear casual. “So, do you live in Karakura Town now?”

“Oh, no. My wife and I are visiting our daughter. I assume you live here?”

“Yeah, I moved here about a year ago.” A lie, so natural sounding from years of saying many more like it before.

He can sense the next question coming – something to effect of ‘Do your parents live here as well?’ – so he quickly continues, “It’s a small town, but there’s a few places I can recommend for visitors if your daughter hasn’t taken you to them already.”

“We only arrived two days ago. We visited one of the shrines with her yesterday. My wife and daughter are having breakfast at a cafe nearby. We’re planning to walk around the shopping district this afternoon.”

“All good ideas. There’s also Tsubakidai Park, it’s always nice to walk around there. There’s also a music performance happening there two days from now, local bands mostly.”

“Is there now?”

Shinji points to the most recent poster taped up next to the store’s entrance. He briefly glances at Kana, who had gone back to pricing the vinyls, but she’d stopped at some point, staring at their exchange. She eyes him with a raised brow. Her expression is asking him ‘Is everything okay?’

“See that there?” Shinji says, keeping Keiji distracted long enough to wink at Kana in reassurance. “It’s got the details for it if you’re interested.”

With a shrug and a good-natured roll of her eyes, she returns to her task.

Keiji nods. “I’ll be sure to look at it on my way out.” Turning back, he looks over Shinji shoulder. “Speaking of, I came here to get an album I was told would be here. I believe it will be under jazz.”

“Yeah? Which one?” Shinji asks as he leads Keiji to the ‘Jazz’ section.

“It’s often hard to find, but Umei -- oh, she's my daughter -- thought I should try my luck here. She said this store often sells music from older artists. ‘Retro’, she calls it.”

“She ain’t wrong.”

Keiji frowns thoughtfully when they stop in front of the rows of CDs and vinyls. He let’s out a sudden, ironic laugh. “Actually, now that I think about it, it’s from a singer your father introduced me to.”

Shinji already knew, and his heart squeezed for a moment. “Oh, yeah? Which one?”

“Agawa Yasuko.”

The memory comes to him. He’d gone drinking with Keiji and his coworkers, and they ended up discussing films they love. When the topic of The Bloodthirsty Trilogy came up, Shinji brought up how Yasuko Agawa had gone on to make music since then. Only Keiji was interested, and took up Shinji’s suggestion to go buy her debut album. He hadn’t seen someone as smitten with a jazz album as Keiji (and apparently his wife) was. They discussed her singing the next day during lulls at work, and for the first time in a while, Shinji felt relaxed, briefly forgetting the troubles that always weigh on his mind.

“Well, her albums are just here,” Shinji says, gesturing to the left-side display racks. “Were you after CD or vinyl?”

“CD,” Keiji says while steps around him. He bends over the CDs and thumbs through them. “You have most of her albums here.”

“It’s like your daughter said, we’re retro here.”

He takes out a copy of ‘All Right With Me’ with a grin. “This is the one! I listened to it last year, but haven’t been able to find a copy of it until today.”

“It’s a good one, she’s always had a great voice. I can recommend any of her albums, they're all good.”

“Ah, are you a fan of jazz music too? Just like your father?”

“Yeah, like my old man, jazz is one of my favourite genres. It never gets old.”

“He said the same thing.”

Then, because one of half of him is now stuck in the past, Shinji says, “My father mentioned you had a wife, a daughter, and a son. They doing okay?”

Keiji hums in ascent. “Yes, very well. I’m not sure if your father told you, but my wife, Kyoko, works in a bakery. She has worked in the same place for over twenty years now, and got promoted to manager five years in.”

“That’s incredible!”

Keiji nods firmly and returns to flicking through the albums. “She’s always been determined. Umei is a newspaper reporter for the local news here, and my son, Naoya, is an accountant in Tokyo.” He grins. “He’ll be having our first grandchild soon. My wife is eager to be there in the weeks before the baby is born, she already has gifts planned for him. He’s a lot like his mother, determined and hard-working. I have no doubt he’ll be a good father.”

Shinji has the sudden urge to reminisce with this man. To talk about their days in the store, where Shinji learned how to use a camera, and about their regular customers. To show he remembered the little details Keiji had told him about his life outside of work – how Kyoko would come to visit them with baked goods when she knew her husband hadn’t packed a lunch, or how happy he was about Umei’s first day of school, or when he was pleasantly surprised by Naoya’s sudden obsession with the new ‘Astro Boy’ anime. To talk about the music from that time, and see if he’d taken on other jazz and blues recommendations he’d made.

At Shinji’s silence, Keiji’s grin transforms into a bashful smile. “You’ll have to forgive me. I must seem like an old man rambling about my family and reminiscing about the past.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I get it. My old man worked at Yodobashi Camera over twenty years ago, and if I saw an old coworker, even if it was their kid, I’d want to talk about it.”

"Well, thank you then," Keiji says, “How is your father these days? I probably should've asked that first.”

Shinji knew it was coming, hovering over them from the moment Keiji recognised him without realising. Even so, the pit of his stomach plummets along with his grin. He’s at another crossroads.

He takes in the man’s features again. How the wrinkles gather deeper around his eyes and around his mouth as he speaks. The fact he wears glasses now, resting over the faint scar on his nose he got when he broke it during a high school baseball game – he’d tumbled after getting homebase and cracked it on the ground, Shinji recalls; it'd been a drunken confession made on one of the night he'd gone out with the coworkers.

He thought noticing age couldn’t affect him anymore. But seeing someone from his past, someone who he got along well with and truly wished the best for, it strikes something in him. He’d been a Shinigami for centuries, ferrying hundreds of Souls like him to the Soul Society. One day, Keiji will be met by a Shinigami when he passes on, and forget the life he’d lived by the time he gets to the Soul Society.

It’s then SHinji realises he's been living in this world for too long. That detachment, that knowledge that he was not like humans, has eroded over time, crumbling bit by bit, leaving only a thin slab behind. Hiyori was right; he should’ve left his job at Yodobashi Camera sooner. It's been one of the longer jobs he'd had, and he recalls trying to stuff down the bitterness of leaving it behind when he left on his last day.

It hadn't been right to drag Keiji along like this, for his own selfish whims of wanting to relieve the past. So he does the right thing this time.

Shinji looks off to the side. “He’s gone. So is my mother.”

In the pause, Keiji remains frozen in place, lost for words. “Oh, I…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up…I had no idea.”

“It was three years ago. He and my mother were involved in a car accident.” Like all his lies, it comes out smooth and natural, like he is the son reflecting on grief he's only just overcome. He hates it.

Keiji shakes his head in disbelief. “That's awful, truly. I really am sorry.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to be. I’m sorry you found out this way.”

Keiji is silent again, staring at the ground for a long moment before raising his head. There’s a faint mist across his eyes. “Your father and I only knew each other at work, and on the occasions he came to drink with the rest of us. Even so, I could always tell he was a good man. He worked hard, but he always had time to help others around the store too. Not just his coworkers, but also the customers.” His smile faintly returns. “I always wondered what happened to him after he left the store. I always thought, though, that wherever he went, he’d do good work.”

Keiji always saw the good in others, and in a time where Shinji still hadn’t fully processed Aizen’s betrayal, he’d been wary of the man at first. He'd reminded him of his seated officer Genji Isawa: a hard worker who could bring a smile and laugh to anyone who met him. Maybe this is why he'd eventually came around to being a little less guarded with him.

In his last year with the store, it was only then he’d begun to take an interest in his personal life and the lives of his coworkers, whether it was the rowdy Takahiro, or the quiet but hard working Kaneshiro. In some ways, now that he thought about it, Keiji might’ve been the closest thing he’d had to a friend in many years. Still kept at a distance, still lied to, but still an echo of a friend, one he probably would've had in another life.

He can't tell him any of this, not without it sounding like he truly knew him rather than a son telling a father's old coworker what his old man thought of him.

He'd put what little detachment he still had between him and his past, but now it came bleeding through like a bruise. If only he knew he was speaking these words directly to him and not to the son he thought he was.

“Thank you,” Shinji says quietly, still unable to meet Keiji’s eyes completely. “He’d have appreciated your words a lot.”

A sombre awkwardness settles over them, only broken when the store bell rings. A young couple come in, with the woman goig straight to the ‘New Releases’ rack. Shinji looks to Kana, who now unabashedly just stared at the scene unfolding in the corner of the shop. She’s only distracted away when the man who just entered asks for assistance.

Keiji bows. “Thank you for your assistance and for listening to my ramblings today, Hirako-san. I’ll go purchase this now.” He rises, but doesn’t move to the counter. He hesitates to say something else, lips parting and closing. "And I'm truly sorry for your loss. You have my condolences."

Shinji can only nod. This will be the last time he ever sees Keiji. It’s just as well, given the emotions and reactions he’d undergone today. Who knew how he’d react to meeting some of his other old coworkers from his other jobs. If nothing, this has reiterated why he shouldn’t get close to any of the humans, not even asking them about or taking an interest in their personal lives.

But some part of him, a wistful part that he’d thought was buried under the cynicism and hurt of Aizen’s betrayal, urges him to do one last thing. His detachment tries to block it, but it shine through, clutching at his heart.

“Did my father ever tell you what his favorite record was?” Shinji asks.

Keiji frowns slightly and shakes his head. “He might have, but I’m sorry, I can’t remember.”

“Well, to be more accurate, it’s one of his favorite records.” Shinji takes a step backwards and scans the lines of CDs until he finds the one he needs. He fishes it out of the rack and presents it to Keiji. A copy of ‘Scenery’. “He loved it from the moment he heard it. I still have his vinyl copy of it.”

Keiji is slow to take the CD. “I’ve always been more into pop music, really. Agawa Yasuko is the only jazz singer I liked.”

“It came out in 1976, the same year he started working for Yodobashi Camera. He said that while listening to it, it’d remind of his life at the time, including his work and his coworkers. He always associated it with good memories.”

Keiji nods, and his smile returns, albeit with a sadder edge to it. “I’m glad, then.” As Shinji holds his hand out, planning to take the album and put it back, Keiji raises his gaze back to him. “In that case, I’ll be buying this too.”

Shinji let out a chocked chuckle. “Whoa, hey, I wasn’t trying to make a sale –”

“I know, but I want to buy this now.”

Keiji had to be guided by his sentimentality right now, this isn’t fair. Did he feel the need to listen to this to honor him? “Hey, look, it’s really not –”

“If you recommend it, and if your father would’ve recommend it to me, then I have no doubt I will enjoy it. I’m sure my wife would too. She also likes Agawa-san’s music, and a few of the other recommendations your father made.”

Somehow, that lightens the load on his heart. He even manages a grin. “Then in that case, it’s on me.”

“What? Oh, no, please, there’s no need –”

Shinji holds up a hand to silence him. “It’s no trouble. Think of it as a gift.”

Even as they walked to the counter, Keiji fretted about the idea. Kana is ringing up the couple, but as the woman counts out the money, she eyes Shinji and Keiji as they approach.

After serving the couple, Keiji comes up the counter and Shinji digs his wallet out of his pants pocket.

“He’s buying the Agawa album, the Fuuki Ryo one is on me.”

“Really, you don’t have to do this,” Keiji insists.

Kana only shrugs as she takes Shinji’s money. “If you’re sure.” She turns to Keiji with a smile. “Good choices by the way.”

Keiji hands her the albums and his money. While waiting for Kana to count up his change, Keiji reads the poster for the upcoming music festival. “I’ll tell Kyoko and Umei about this. I have a feeling they’ll be interested.”

“It’s looking to be a good line up this year,” Kana says while handing him his change and bagging his purchases. “They have a lot more local acts. It’s always good to support them.”

“Yes, it is.” He bows to her after taking the bag from her. “Thank you very much.”

She bows in return. “Have a good day, sir.”

Keiji then bows to Shinji. “And thank you so much, Hirako-san. I’m glad I got to meet you. Please, pay my respects when you next see your father and mother.”

Shinji bows in return. “Likewise, Mimura-san. I’m sure my old man would’ve been happy to see you today.”

Both rising, Keiji smiles broadly, before turning and leaving the store. There’s a still silence after the bell above the door rings. A few heartbeats later, Kana finally speaks. “What was that about?”

“One of my dad’s old coworkers,” Shinji says, ungluing himself from his spot and going back to get his cart. From across the store, he says. “My old man and I look a lot alike, so he thought I was him.”

“Huh,” Kana huffs. “That sounds like it’s be awkward.”

“It was, but…I’m glad I got to see him.”

Kana’s brows frown slightly, but she doesn’t say anything about him ‘seeing’ rather than ‘meeting’ him. “So long as you’re feeling okay about it.”

“Yeah, I am.”

The rest of the day continues as usual until closing time. The sky has turned to amber, with the last of the sun peaking out over the horizon, by the time Shinji and Kana steps out of the store.

After locking the front door, Kana spins to him and hitches her bag over her shoulder. She jerks a thumb in the direction of Karakura’s main shopping districts. “You want to go for a drink?”

She always offers, and just like every other time, Shinji shakes his head. “Nah, gotta get home.”

Kana shrugs. “Suit yourself.” Unlike other times, concern flickers across her expression. He’d tried to hide the sombreness that’d settled into him after Keiji left, but maybe he hadn't been convincing. Maybe he's losing his tough.

Kana bows. “Thanks for your hard work today. See you tomorrow.”

Shinji does the same in return. “See you tomorrow.”

They part ways, going in opposite directions.

Autumn is in the air, crispy in the wind that brushes against him as he walks the quiet streets of Karakura Town. The streetlight pop on, beaming down over him and the those either returning home or heading for a night on the town in the shopping district. He can blend in with everyone, dressed like them and walking like them, but never be one of them.

He never wanted to be, still doesn't, but like them, he'd let that small part of him, that sentimental part of him, get the better of him.

As he comes to the quieter part of town, getting closer to the warehouse, he contemplates quitting his current job. It's only a passing thought, one that he dismisses when he considers his and the Visoreds financial situation. Kisuke had been generous over the years for someone struggling almost just as much as them, but they can't rely on him.

They needed to make their own path back to the Soul Society. Back to Aizen, to take him down once and for all. The old fire returns in Shinji's, a determination he'd used to fuel his detachment form humans.

But he's been here for so long, more than a century now. He's been alive for too long, and been around humans for too long.

Their lives are so short; one moment they're here, and the next, they're meeting a Shinigami or another agent of death. Yet, he'd come to like some of the human's he'd interacted with over the decades. Keiji is clearly one of them, and for all of the grief today had caused him, he still can't deny he'd been glad to see him. But now he'd another person in his past, one he'll never see again.

And one day Kana will have to be one of those people too. He could still visit the store for next few years and get away with it, but there will come a time where he’ll have to stop visiting. And even then, he’ll have to watch himself more in public; Karakura is a big place, but there’s still a decent chance he’d run into her on the streets in the years to come.

When that time comes, she might wonder where he went, what he’s up to, or maybe she won’t. Maybe she’ll unintentionally spare him and move away, going back further north to be closer to her family and finally confess to that one highschool friend she sometimes calls on her breaks and still lives in her hometown. Maybe she’ll use the money she’s saved over the year for singing and guitar lessons, then start that rock band she’s always dreamed of and leave Karakura to go touring.

And maybe none of that happens, and she stays here until the end.

It’ll be a shame when it happens. Despite how small the store’s original jazz section had been, he always loved the store’s collection. He hadn’t found another like it in all his time in the World of the Living.

[utanonicolechan]

SONG LETTER - QUARTET NIGHT (English TL + Do read notes!!) + HBD REIJI SENPAIIII!! <3

||Heyyo so it is already 0:00 in Japan right now so HBD REIJI SENPAI SJSHDHJDSJS <3 Plus the notes are same as before, TL-ed so you can sing it, might do some edits in the future, and I used jisho, translator LOL and some of my Japanese knowledge, but pls do enjoy! <3||

|| NOOO THE MEANING IS JUST TOO MELLOW, MY HEART GOES </3 :O :( :') ||

(Ranmaru)音符(ノーテーション)の海辺から届いて…と祈った

Hailing from the notation seaside, I’ve conveyed it and wished for it..

(Reiji) 何度も打ち変える歌詞(ラブレター)どうか響きますように

Of countless times where I write a love letter thinking how it will resonate in you?

(Camus)凍えそうな電子世界悴(かじか)んだココロへと

In this frozen electronic world, to my heart that is numb to coldness?

(Ai) 何を伝えて?　何を魅せたら? 君を笑顔に出来る？

What am I trying to say? What am I captivating? Can I even make you smile brightly?

(Ranmaru) 時計の長針と短針が

The hour and minute hand of the clock is ticking away

(Camus) キスをする度胸が苦しく

It’s getting hard, my nerve to kiss you is disappearing away (Reiji) 互いに互いの想い出募る

My memories of the precious days with you is getting stronger (Ai) その度に願うよ

Hoping for that time to come

(All) 「哀しみ歓びすべて一緒に抱き締めて生きたい」と

I want to live with the feeling of sorrowness and joyful together with you my darling love (All) 誰かが書いたシナリオじゃない

It is not a scenario written by someone ありのままの姿の

But it’s just the way of how it is 

「生きている」証明を残し

Leaving you a proof of how I am willing to [Live] 君を愛で刺すよ

Piercing you with how much I love you

言葉なんて虚しく

These words alone are just meaningless 風のように消えてく

They will soon disappear just like the wind 一番傍で歌を

I just want to sing beside you.. my love..

(Ranmaru) 楽園と希望を探し追い求め歩んだ

Trying to walk through this stranded path, I tried to search for happiness and hope (Reiji) 傷だらけになったハートは尚も明日を頼って

My heart that is filled with wounds and keeps bleeding on, still depends on what tomorrow will bring 

(Camus) どうして人は急かすのか？「幸福」と云う位置を

Why are people keeping rushing on simple things? And wanting to be the happiest one? (Ai) 時の無常は　恋で塞いで涙は分け合いたい

In such uncertain times, I want to cover it with love, and I want to share these tears with you (Ranmaru) カラカラと乾いた音が鳴る

The sound of emptiness in my heart keeps on resounding on (Camus) 冷めている心を否定する

Trying my best to deny that my heart is indeed cold (Reiji) まだ見ぬ自分の限界何処に

Where is it resides the limits that I haven’t yet to see (Ai) 在るのか？の旅路へ Does it even exist in this journey?

(All) 不揃いなのはわかってる尖った生き様が信条さ

I know it is uneven, but I have faith on this sharp way of life, trust me my dear (All) ゆずれない想いが今でも

This unwavering feelings for you now it is still 静かに燃え上がって

Burning real brightly yet silently 自分だけの物語へと

The one and only story for you my love

未だペンを握る

I still hold the pen to write it again 退屈など嫌いな

Hating on the feeling of tediousness

不器用な夢追いでも

Even if I’m ungraceful to chase my dreams 好きだと言って欲しい

If you love me please just say it to me 

(Ranmaru) 自分自身でなくてはならない

Please just believe me you just to be yourself (Camus) 自分の人生の主人公は

Because you are the heroine of your own life (Reiji) 信じて信じて続けた夢を

Trust me and believe, Trust me and believe, so the continuous dream (Ai) 失くさないように Will not be lost nor even closed (Ranmaru) 生きた印(あかし)を振り返る日に

One day we’ll look back to see the proof of our life (Camus) 命が閉じ旅立ちゆく日に

The day where we close and depart this from this wonderful life

(Reiji) 愛して愛して愛した君と

With you my dear whom I love, I love, I love (Ai) 足跡を語ろう

Just to recite our own footprints (All) 「そんな未来の為音楽へと捧げようこの今」を

For that future’s sake I will dedicate myself for the  music right now my love (All) 誰かが書いたシナリオじゃない

It is not a scenario written by someone ありのままの姿の

but it’s just the way of how it is 「生きている」証明を残し

Leaving you a proof of how I am willing to [Live] 君を愛で刺すよ

Piercing you with how much I love you

言葉なんて虚しく

These words alone are just meaningless 風のように消えてく

They will soon disappear just like the wind 一番傍で歌を

I just want to sing beside you.. my love.. 一番傍で夢を

I just want to dream beside you.. my love..