#headlining with other artists absolutely but not as the main one

[genelatifah]

People who expected Wayne to headline the Super Bowl confuse me.

[creamflix]

UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 1/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [will be added over the course of the series], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: hi friends !! wow, been a hot min since i wrote something of this caliber. feels good to be back in biz ;D did you all miss persephone! suguru? because there's a LOT of him here >_< i really wanted to publish this as a oneshot but....tumblr hates me so now it's gonna be a chaptered series! oh , joy! ps @nappingmoon i got u bae, this one is for you.

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

you never really set out to be the face of smut-lit. 

in fact, you weren’t even really a face at all — just a “faceless” author penning scandalous stories for fans who devoured them, and haters who, well… tried to eat you alive.

you’d started out innocently enough, scribbling down your little fantasies and tropes that no self-respecting romance book would touch. then one day, a friend dared you to post one on booktok. 

you thought, "fuck it" and uploaded a snippet of your latest brainchild: a steamy billionaire x star-crossed chef fic called hunger games: not that kind of hungerer. it was, admittedly, extra spicy. 

and oh, did the internet have thoughts.

soon, your comments section and dm’s became a battleground for all opinions on “what qualifies as literature.” gems included:

who even writes this crap? did a middle schooler steal her mom’s laptop? i can feel my brain cells self-destructing as i read this 💀 girl hasn’t even been within a mile radius of a dick and it SHOWS

you'd had to admit… the last comment was right. but hey, they only added to the fuel. 

like moths to a flame, they kept coming back, and the trolling just made your followers skyrocket. a lot of people secretly liked the outrageousness, the drama, and the absolute audacity of it all. before long, your books were trending, and you were raking in numbers (and dollars) most “serious” authors could only dream of.

soon, you found yourself the subject of headlines you never thought you’d see:

the faceless queen of spice: how one unknown author is reshaping romance. trolled online, loved in secret—author sells millions in ebook downloads. social media says she has no idea what she’s talking about, but her bank account says otherwise.

and the kicker?

you’d never had sex with anyone, let alone…well, rocked worlds like your characters. 

here you were, a smut writer with zero real-life experience, who’d single-handedly created booktok’s, bookstagram and hell, even the people down at twitter's guilty pleasure.

but the day big publishers started knocking on your door, it was surreal, to say the least. 

you’d been fully prepared for the anonymous online fame — hell, you’d leaned into it, posting “faceless author life” videos and doing question and answer sessions where you dropped zero identifying details, save for some vague hand gestures and blurred-out backgrounds. but now, major publishing houses wanted in on the action.

“we think your stories have broad market appeal,” one exec had said on a zoom call, trying to make “billionaire mafia love quadrangle” sound dignified. “if we could get them on shelves, we’d reach an audience beyond booktok. international appeal is the goal here!”

suddenly, your filthy, albeit occasionally cringey, tales were going global. they got translated into french (where your enemies-to-lovers series got a fancy new title: l’amour et la haine). your spicy chef saga was reborn in italian as sapore di te, which roughly translated to taste of you (and made you blush, honestly). 

and when your personal favorite, the billionaire’s forbidden touch, hit the japanese market, they titled it 禁断の夜 (which… you didn’t even want to know the translation of, because you knew it was even worse than the original).

you had to admit, though, seeing these books spread worldwide made your head spin. what started as a joke online was now somehow sitting next to classics in international bookstores, becoming a hot commodity for fans everywhere.

but the cherry on top? 

oh, that came when you opened an email from none other than gojo-sonic, the world-renowned audio company best known for its highly specialized audiobook recordings. they’d taken smut literature to the next level, hiring voice actors who sounded like they were in the room with you, all breathy whispers and seductive baritones. people had raved that these audiobooks were “too real” — like they’d been recorded in a closed room with dim lights and a whole lot of… commitment.

they offered you a multi-million dollar deal to turn your books into experiences.

one of your friends, absolutely losing it, texted you as soon as they heard the news:

homegirl [5:21 pm]: “OMG OMG so you’re gonna do it right?? u realize this means ppl will be hearing ur lil virgin brain’s fantasies out loud in their headphones right” you [5:21 pm]: “no kidding. i’m freaking out. this feels illegal.” homegirl [5:22 pm]: “but u gotta!! pls this is ICONIC.” you [5:24 pm]: “they’re giving me millions. you think i’m saying no? lmao.”

it still felt surreal that soon, the whole world would hear your books come to life with professional voice actors — ones who knew exactly how to tease and breathe and make listeners feel like they were right there.

“bring my fantasies to life, huh?” you muttered to yourself, flipping through the contract that would secure your financial future, all because of your fictional men and their, uh, moves. 

who the hell were you to say no to that?

it was surreal enough to get an email from gojo-sonic, but now, sitting across from the ceo himself, gojo satoru, you were starting to wonder if this whole experience was some fever dream.

the man was stunning in an obnoxious, immaculate way. snowy hair, piercing blue eyes, and sunglasses balanced on his head like a headband. and, okay, you had to admit: it was a little weird that he’d named his company after himself — though, frankly, it just fit.

you tried not to laugh when he introduced himself. gojo satoru, ceo of gojo-sonic. the narcissism was off the charts, but so was his charm. as a quick google search before the meeting had revealed, gojo sonic had an impeccable reputation, and there was apparently not a single scandal tied to its name.

“nice to meet you,” you said, shaking his hand and trying to keep your cool. “kinda surprised a guy is running a… company like this. no offense.”

“none taken!” he replied, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. “if i’m honest, i’m probably the last guy anyone would expect here. but,” he shrugged, “it works. my employees say i’m a ‘girl’s girl,’ whatever that means.”

the way he said it so nonchalantly made you smirk. apparently, the term wasn’t a throwaway nickname, either; the gojo-sonic gossip mill painted him as the absolute dream boss. rumor had it he’d given his whole office a free day off because his assistant had been dumped, and when a writer complained about unisex bathrooms making her uncomfortable, he’d personally had a “feminine touch” added to every single stall, complete with pink hand soap and luxurious lotions. he was kind, considerate, a man who just got it.

“people say i’m probably gay,” he added, laughing as if that was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “and you know what? let ‘em think what they want.” he gave you a wink. “as long as they keep buying the goods, i couldn’t care less.”

honestly? the guy made a point. did it matter who he was taking home at the end of the day? not at all, as long as your bank account kept racking up zeros.

“speaking of,” he continued, “we’ve got the full studio ready for tomorrow. you’ll meet the voice actors, go over a few sections, and give input as needed. think of it like a live theater production, except it’s your book.”

“oh, i get to… watch them record?” you asked, wondering how mortifying it might be to sit there, watching actors give their all to lines like, “you’re mine tonight, darling.” 

yeah, you’d written it, but watching someone breathe life into it was a different level of… embarrassment.

“even better,” gojo grinned, looking far too amused by your nervousness, “you’ll get to guide them. they’ll take direction from you — however you want the line delivered, that’s how they’ll say it.”

“you mean i can… like… make suggestions? on delivery?”

“exactly!” he said with a small clap. “we want it to be perfect. i’ve already arranged for our top voice actor, toji fushiguro, to voice your main character.”

toji fushiguro?

if gojo-sonic was the industry’s top company, toji was the crown jewel of voice acting. the guy was a legend. 

he had that smoky, velvet tone that could turn a mundane grocery list into a full-on romance scene. he was also notoriously elusive; some people waited months to get him to even consider their projects. and you — the virgin author who’d stumbled into fame thanks to trolls and booktok — had him voicing your main character?

“wait, toji fushiguro is doing this?” you asked, jaw practically on the floor.

gojo chuckled, looking far too pleased with your reaction. “yep! i think you two are going to work great together. he’s intense but flexible; really good at taking feedback.”

you tried to imagine giving feedback to toji fushiguro of all people. 

“um, maybe say ‘you’re mine’ with more… conviction?” 

“can you sound a bit more possessive on that line?”

“i, uh…” you managed, trying to swallow your nerves. “okay. yeah. sounds… good.”

“great! i think you’ll be amazed. toji’s professionalism is unmatched, and he’ll bring exactly the level of…” Gojo paused, grinning, “intensity you need to really make your character come to life.”

“good luck tomorrow! i’ll make sure everything’s set up perfectly,” gojo had assured you with a big grin as you left the office. “don’t stress about a thing. our identities are always kept top secret here. toji’s included! he’s never done a face reveal, and your privacy is just as ironclad.”

oh god. tomorrow, you were really going to sit there while toji fushiguro acted out lines you’d written on a whim in your pajamas.

sure, not stressing sounded like a logical plan. but after that surreal conversation — and the realization that tomorrow morning, you’d be face-to-face with the one and only toji fushiguro, hearing him breathe life into your raunchiest fantasies — you did what any responsible, mature adult would do.

you headed straight to the nearest bar and got sloshed.

by the time you were three cocktails deep, the reality of tomorrow’s “firsts” hit you like a ton of bricks. first real direction on an audiobook, first time meeting a voice actor, first time dealing with your own steaminess out loud, and — oh god — the cherry on top, it was toji fushiguro himself.

sure, you thought, sipping from your fourth drink and trying not to scream as lana del rey sings “it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you,” i might be slightly freaking out.

another cocktail slid your way. you squinted, unsure if you'd ordered it or if the bartender was just reading your general mood, because yeah, you did look like someone who needed another round.

“tough night?”

“tough tomorrow.” you swirled your drink, laughing to yourself. “i mean… you ever written a, uh, totally inappropriate novel and had to watch a famous guy turn it into audio?”

“…can’t say that i have.”

you shrugged, downing a bit more of the drink, when the song on the speakers switched to avril lavigne’s complicated. fitting, given that your life had just become exactly that.

“why’d you have to go and make things so complicated?” avril sang, like she knew.

the bartender, apparently used to the types who showed up for existential crises alone, leaned against the counter. “sounds like big stuff tomorrow, then. what kind of work do you do, anyway?”

“oh, just… smutty novels,” you said, letting it slip before you could stop yourself. “just… page after page of absolutely shameless, absurd filth. and now i’m, y’know, supposed to direct the guy. to make it sound like he’s really, um, in the moment.”

the bartender chuckled, raising a brow. “sounds intense.”

“you have no idea.” you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “he’s this insanely talented voice actor. i mean, they’ve got toji fushiguro in there, which is like… god. if he knew who i actually was, he’d probably laugh.”

why’d you have to go and make things so complicated? avril continued wailing, her words your accidental anthem.

“well, whatever happens,” the bartender said, passing you a glass of water with a grin, “sounds like you’re about to have a pretty interesting morning.”

“i’ll drink to that,” you muttered, clinking your cocktail glass against the water. you downed it, hoping that somehow, it might chase the nerves away.

and as everytime we touch, i get this feeling started blasting on the speakers, you couldn’t help but shake your head with a groan. if there was a playlist made for romantic embarrassment, it was definitely playing tonight.

in your half-sloshed state, it seemed like a good idea to turn to the stranger who’d just sauntered up to the bar — a ridiculously hot stranger, tall with dark hair, and a scar slashing right across his lip. it was the kind of look that would’ve inspired an entire chapter in one of your books, but as of right now? it was just inspiring some truly regrettable choices.

“goodness gracious, great balls of fire,” you muttered to yourself, just loud enough to catch his attention, which felt smooth, in your totally buzzed opinion. so, of course, you swung around on your stool, plastering on what you hoped was an alluring smile.

oh god, here we go. “hey there, handsome…” you paused, hiccuping “… you come here often?”

the stranger raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, leaning an elbow against the bar with a smirk that could kill. “depends,” he said, voice low and rough. “you, uh, always this friendly after a few drinks?”

oh god. 

oh god. 

but you couldn’t stop now. 

you were committed. 

you were bold. 

with all the poise of a drunk giraffe, you propped your elbow on the bar and leaned in closer, pointing a finger at his chest — totally unintentionally, because your depth perception was off by, oh, about a mile. “well, what can i say,” you replied, attempting a sultry grin. “good-lookin’ guys like you… don’t come around often enough, mister.”

“it’s like i’m drunk off your love,” played from the speakers, not helping your case at all. 

oh god, this was actually happening. 

he actually laughed, a warm, deep chuckle, as he watched you struggle through whatever pickup line was about to escape your lips.

he tilted his head, that smirk turning up a notch. “should i be flattered?”

“you should!” you exclaimed, with a bit too much enthusiasm. “you’re like… i dunno, like one of my… you look like a… a fictional character.” 

smooth, real smooth.

“oh yeah?” his smirk widened. “so, what am i, a prince?”

“more like…” you bit your lip, trying to focus, “an antihero with a… tragic past and just enough softness in his heart to make him dangerous in all the right ways.”

he looked you up and down, bemusement clear in his eyes. “dangerous in the right ways? is that your type?”

you gave a shaky wink, nearly missing because the world was swimming a bit. “maybe.”

he chuckled, his voice all rich and velvety, and leaned in closer. “so… you’re here alone? i mean, besides all the fictional men you’re envisioning.”

“for now,” you replied, trying to sound mysterious, but it just came out as a bit… wobbly.

the bartender set the stranger’s drink down with a raised eyebrow, and he took a sip, watching you with amused interest. “you know, maybe you should slow down before you scare all the good guys away.”

“oh, trust me,” you replied, hiccuping again. “i don’t scare easy.”

he shook his head, clearly entertained, and you felt yourself glowing under his gaze. you were about to continue — just as soon as the world stopped spinning — when you felt the slightest bit queasy, your stomach reminding you that you’d had one cocktail too many.

the stranger’s amused smirk softened. “you alright there?”

“i’m…” you swallowed. “perfectly fine. just, you know… making sure you’re… getting the full effect of my…” you barely managed the word “…rizz.”

he laughed outright this time, low and warm, like he genuinely couldn’t believe you were real. “is that so? lucky me.”

it was all going so well — okay, not well, but you were holding your own, kind of. you had him laughing, after all, which for someone with approximately zero charisma was an accomplishment! but then the first chords of firework by katy perry blared through the speakers, and as if on cue, your stomach decided to join in the grand finale.

“do you ever feel like a plastic bag,” katy crooned, but for you, it was more like a “do you ever feel like you’re about to ruin your night by barfing on a hot stranger?”

before you could process what was happening, the tequila-fueled fireworks decided to erupt all over this guy’s very expensive-looking shoes.

oh god. oh god.

you looked up, mortified, to find him staring down at his shoes, eyebrows raised. wow, would you look at the time? 

run.

“oh… oh no. i… i’m so sorry, i swear this never happens.”

he raised a brow, still looking somewhere between amused and horrified. “well, that’s… comforting?”

you grabbed a napkin, fumbling, still buzzing enough to not know if you should laugh, cry, or just make a run for it.

“guess that’s, uh, one way to make an impression,” he murmured, lips twitching in a smirk even as he assessed the disaster on his shoes.

“oh god. really, i’m… i’m so sorry.” you dabbed helplessly at his shoes with a cocktail napkin, somehow making things worse. “if it helps, i… i normally only vomit on hot guys.”

he chuckled, though you were sure it was mostly at you, and shook his head. “well, it’s one hell of an icebreaker.”

“baby, you’re a firework,” katy sang passionately in the background, but you were already ready to crawl under the bar and disappear forever.

you were surprised — actually, you were shocked — that the stranger hadn’t ditched you after the whole public-vomiting-on-his-shoes fiasco. instead, somehow, he was still right there, leaned in close and casually sipping his drink, just as much a mess as you were. hours had passed, and you’d been rambling about anything and everything, lost in an alcohol-fueled bubble that had turned the night into something you’d never have dreamed of.

maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was the guy’s ridiculously calm attitude, but you’d opened up about your career, the absurdity of writing spicy novels as a faceless author, and even your terror about tomorrow. he’d listened with a smirk, offering the occasional snarky remark or grunt of approval. in return, he’d told you a bit about himself too — well, at least, you thought he did. at some point, the details got hazy.

“so, what do you do?” you asked, squinting at him like it was going to make his face stop swimming in your vision.

he shrugged, swirling his drink and giving a lopsided grin. “something kinda like… acting. you know, nothing glamorous.” there was a hint of amusement there, like he was in on a joke you weren’t.

you squinted harder, your mind pulling up images of random professions. “oh, so like… theater? or like, movies? or wait — commercials? are you one of those guys that has to pretend he’s in love with a bowl of soup?”

he let out a deep laugh, and the sound sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. “sure, something like that. though i’d like to think i’m a bit more convincing than a soup guy.”

you grinned, leaning in closer, your curiosity fully piqued despite your state. “convincing, huh? so you’re a good actor, then?”

“i do my best,” he said, voice low, that amused glint in his eye again.

“you have to be really good to make people believe in, like, totally unrealistic things, y’know?” you babbled, waving your hand. “like, imagine trying to voice —” you cut yourself off, feeling a hint of embarrassment as you remembered why you’d gotten so sloshed in the first place. the irony of tomorrow, and how this entire conversation felt like it was straight out of one of your own stories.

but before you could get too in your head about it, he tilted his head, looking genuinely interested. “voice what? i’m curious, princess.”

princess. the nickname sent a bolt of something dangerously warm straight through you, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “oh, nothing…” you said, waving him off. “just, you know… the usual. people who… um, make people fall in love with their voice.”

“and what if i told you,” he leaned in even closer, smirking as if he’d just had the best idea ever, “that i could probably do that?”

you rolled your eyes, not believing him one bit. “oh really? think you could pull it off?”

“depends,” he said with a shrug. “what kinda character am i playing?”

you didn’t realize it, but you’d inched even closer, like you were hanging on his every word. “someone… someone rough around the edges,” you started, your voice dropping, completely lost in the moment, “but with a softness underneath. someone who could make the world stop with just a whisper…”

he smirked, eyes never leaving yours, and for a second, you felt like he was taking every word way too seriously. “i think i could manage that.”

you blinked, feeling a blush rise. 

this stranger had charisma — like, the kind of charisma you’d thought only existed in your characters. 

oh god, maybe you should write him into your next story. you shook yourself, blinking the daydreams away just as he started talking again.

“... and that’s why,” he was saying, “there’s a bit of an art to saying things just right. people think it’s all about the words, but it’s the way you say them that makes it real, y’know?”

you nodded, trying to focus on his words as the room spun just a bit. “so you’re telling me, it’s all in the delivery?”

“exactly.” his gaze dropped to your lips, and he smirked, like he knew exactly what he was doing. “even the… dirtiest lines sound good if you say ’em the right way.”

oh no. that dangerous warmth was back.

somewhere between his intense gaze and that slow, lopsided smirk, dancing queen by abba blared through the bar speakers, jarring you out of your tipsy trance. the upbeat, disco-infused rhythm filled the room, all but laughing at the “moment” you thought you were having with this too-hot-for-reality stranger.

was this a moment? or were you just ridiculously drunk? did he even have a name? or were you just too far gone to have bothered asking?

“you can dance, you can jive,” abba sang, practically mocking you as you stared, wide-eyed, at the man across from you, his scarred lip twisted in a little grin as he watched you piece it all together. he must’ve seen the dawning realization on your face, because he chuckled, reaching for his drink again.

“something wrong, princess?” he asked, leaning forward with a glint of amusement.

oh, great. i’ve already been promoted to ‘princess’ by a guy i might not know the name of. you were seconds away from facepalming.

“uh, nothing,” you said, waving a hand as casually as you could manage. “just, uh, thinking how ironic it is that dancing queen is playing while… we’re, you know…”

“... having a moment?” he teased, clearly enjoying himself.

“well,” you cleared your throat, cheeks blazing, “if you can call me drunkenly staring at you while abba serenades us a ‘moment.’”

“hey, it’s a solid soundtrack choice,” he replied, looking like he was suppressing a laugh. “besides, don’t pretend this isn’t kinda perfect.”

“you think dancing queen is perfect for this?”

he shrugged, sipping his drink. “come on, you’re hammered, i’m here keeping you company, and we’re both, what… living in the moment?” he quirked a brow, his smirk widening as he eyed you, like he was daring you to argue.

and then, maybe out of pure liquid courage, or maybe because the absurdity was too much, you laughed. “yeah, living the moment… with some guy whose name i don’t even know.”

“toji,” he said, offering his hand with a lazy grin, like he’d just handed you a secret.

“toji,” you echoed, shaking his hand. he held on for a second longer than necessary, his gaze never leaving yours.

 oh, this guy was trouble, and you were in so deep.

“and you?” he asked, still holding your hand.

you barely managed to whisper your name, but it came out like a sigh, and he repeated it back like it was something precious. “well then,” he said, smirking, “guess that makes two dancing queens tonight.”

“toji…” you muttered, the name slipping off your tongue again as you tried to place it. there was something familiar about it, like you’d heard it before, but in your tequila-drenched state, nothing was sticking. 

toji, toji… where had you heard that name?

he cocked an eyebrow, clearly amused as you stared at him like he was the world’s most frustrating puzzle. “something on your mind?”

“n-no,” you stammered, then immediately backpedaled. “wait, actually, yes. toji, right?”

he nodded, a playful gleam in his eye. “that’s the one.”

“toji… toji…” you repeated, squinting at him as if a clearer view would magically connect the dots. and then, it hit you — toji fushiguro. 

the voice actor who would be bringing your spicy, shamelessly dramatic main character to life. 

the same guy you were supposed to meet tomorrow, the guy who was probably used to making everyone’s knees buckle with just a whisper.

“no way…” you whispered, clutching your head, and you could practically feel the blush creeping up your cheeks. “you — you’re… that toji?”

he gave a slight tilt of his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “what, surprised that i could be both hot and talented?”

you sputtered, trying to backtrack and failing miserably. “no! i mean, yes, but i just — tomorrow —  you’re… you’re the guy who’s voicing my main character?”

he leaned back with a smirk, clearly enjoying the whirlwind of emotions he was putting you through. “didn’t think the universe would give you a sneak preview tonight, huh?”

your fuzzy brain struggled to compute this twist of fate. you were drunk, mortified, and beyond flustered, sitting in a bar with the man who’d soon be giving voice to all your filthy, shameless words. this was almost too much.

“oh my god,” you muttered, sinking back in your seat. “i literally threw up on my main character’s shoes.”

toji let out a hearty laugh, patting your shoulder. “hey, if anything, i’d say it’s on-brand for the kind of night you’d write.”

just as you were processing the sheer, ridiculous insanity of the situation, a fresh wave of nausea hit you like a freight train. before you could even react, you leaned forward and… splattered the floor with a decidedly not-dignified stream of bile. this time, it was almost cinematic, complete with a dramatic gagging sound that had you doubling over.

you watched in horror as you once again spewed your insides onto the floor, narrowly missing toji’s shoes but definitely adding a new layer to the already mortifying scene. 

you’d probably just hit rock bottom.

“oh, god,” you groaned, covering your mouth with your hand as the bile burned your throat. “i swear… i’m not normally like this.”

toji chuckled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he handed you a stack of napkins the bartender had generously supplied. “i’m starting to think i’m just a little too overwhelming for you, princess.”

you shot him a sheepish look as you wiped your mouth. overwhelming was an understatement. 

“yeah, maybe we can leave that out of tomorrow’s team introductions,” you mumbled, trying desperately to pull yourself together.

toji chuckled, tossing a few more napkins your way. “no judgment here. it’s a rough night for a first ‘meet-cute,’ but hey, you’re nothing if not memorable.”

you gripped the napkin, willing yourself to hold it together, at least until you could make a semi-dignified exit. “i don’t even want to know what story you’ll tell people about this.”

toji just laughed, completely unbothered, as if getting vomited on was a regular night for him. “don’t worry, i’ll keep it discreet.” his voice dipped, lowering to a murmur. “for a girl with secrets, i figure you’d appreciate that.”

he lifted his drink and gave you a small toast. “to first meetings — and unforgettable nights. and hey, maybe tomorrow, you’ll surprise me and keep it down.”

oh, god, you thought, as you attempted to bury yourself in your napkin. if only i could crawl under the bar and hide forever.

normally, you wouldn’t wake up with “dancing queen” stuck in your head, but as you nursed the remnants of a truly terrible hangover, it felt almost... pleasant? the upbeat melody cut through the fog of your brain, and you couldn’t help but hum along, even if the lyrics felt like a cruel reminder of your embarrassing escapades from the night before.

“you can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life...”

wait, why dancing queen of all songs? you squinted at your alarm clock, your heart racing as the memories started flooding back like a poorly written rom-com. oh.

OH.

your eyes widened as you bolted out of bed with a speed that could make an olympic runner blush, frantically throwing on whatever clothes you could find — did you seriously still have a piece of glitter from last night stuck in your hair? gross! but no time for a shower; you had a meeting to get to at gojo-sonic, and you were about to meet — erm, remeet — toji fushiguro.

“ooh, see that girl, watch that scene, digging the dancing queen...”

as the lyrics blared in your head like an incessant movie soundtrack, you dashed out the door, praying you’d catch a cab in time. the universe couldn’t possibly let you walk into this meeting looking like a hot mess — especially when your main character's voice was waiting on the other side.

“you’re a tease you turn ‘em on…leave ‘em burning and then you’re gone…”

you rolled your eyes at your own ridiculousness. who cared if you’d practically thrown up on the guy? all you had to do was survive your own personal dance-off with fate and hope toji didn’t remember the lovely little details from last night.

you took a deep breath, determined to channel all the confidence you could muster. today was going to be great. right?

as you walked into the meeting room, gojo practically huffed an air of relief. you couldn’t help but think it was a little dramatic — like, it’s just a meeting. you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the last remnants of your hangover and the lingering embarrassment of last night’s vomit-venture.

the room was brightly lit, filled with a few familiar faces, including toji, who was leaning casually against a table with that annoyingly charming grin plastered on his face. 

great. you’d somehow forgotten just how hot he was in the light of day. 

toji’s presence made your stomach flutter and flip, but you shoved that feeling down — this was business, after all.

you scanned the room and spotted gojo-sonic’s most valued investor suguru geto on a screen in the corner, his hair tied back and eyes sharp as he joined the meeting online. wow, great first impression! with a sudden wave of panic, you could almost hear the dancing queen lyrics mocking you in the back of your mind. what’s next, bursting into song?

“hey, look who finally made it!” toji said, amusement dancing in his eyes. perfect. if he was going to make light of your grand entrance, you had to think fast to steer the conversation away from the disaster that was last night.

“sorry for keeping you all waiting,” you replied, forcing a smile that hopefully didn’t look too forced. “i had... a crazy night.”

toji raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “crazy night, huh? did you bring us any stories?”

you shot him a warning glance, your heart racing as you internally pleaded with him not to say anything that could ruin your career. thankfully, he just chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning back, letting the moment hang in the air without any revealing comments.

“i think we’d all like to hear that,” suguru said, his tone teasing as he adjusted the camera. “but let’s save the fun stuff for later, right? we’ve got work to do.”

you nodded, grateful for suguru’s timely intervention. “yes, absolutely! so, uh, about the voice work —”

the atmosphere shifted as the others exchanged knowing glances, and you knew you’d have to tread carefully. this meeting was crucial, and you couldn’t let last night’s incident derail everything you’d worked for. with any luck, maybe you could just keep your foot out of your mouth for the rest of the meeting.

toji always knew he was hot.

i mean, how could he not? 

with a jawline that could slice bread and a smirk that could charm the pants off anyone, confidence practically dripped off him like a cologne commercial. but the real question was: how to channel this hotness and turn it into something lucrative? great question! 

being a single dad to wasn’t easy, and running from odd job to odd job just to scrape enough money for the brat’s school was proving to be tiresome. until one day, a certain gojo satoru decided to drop a bombshell on him.

“toji, you ever think about using that voice of yours for something... more creative?” gojo asked, leaning back in his office chair, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“creative? what, like narrating my life as a sad single dad?” toji replied dryly, rolling his eyes. “because let me tell you, it’s not exactly a page-turner.”

“no, no, hear me out!” gojo insisted, practically bouncing in his seat. “i’m talking about voice acting — specifically, erotic audiobooks. it’s the next big thing!”

toji blinked, momentarily stunned. “you mean to tell me that the former bouncer at an elite club would be voicing erotic audiobooks? saying those weird, cringey lines that women seem to love? you’re insane.”

“think about it! you have the looks, the voice, and the whole mysterious vibe down pat,” gojo urged, waving his hands dramatically. “besides, you need the cash, and i need someone to bring a little... heat to my company.”

“you really think people want to hear me read lines like, ‘take me, you wild beast?’” toji quipped, snorting.

fast forward to his first recording session, where everything seemed to be going smoothly until disaster struck. toji was deep in character, delivering his best sexy voice when — bam! — the bathroom pipe exploded in his tiny flat.

“oh god, yes, just like that —” he started, voice dripping with sultry charm, when suddenly, a muffled splash! interrupted him, followed by megumi’s wail from the other room.

“dad! there’s water everywhere!”

toji cursed under his breath, trying to maintain his composure. “i’m coming! just... give me a second, i’m — ah, it’s getting so hot in here!” he struggled to continue, desperately trying to block out the chaos around him while the sounds of the pipe gushing water filled the audio.

but it turned out hormones took over the technical difficulties, because when the snippet was finally released, women and men of all ages were devouring it like it was the last slice of pizza at a party. it even went viral on tiktok, with cringe-worthy wannabes trying to recreate his sultry lines, failing miserably while toji sat back, amused.

“really? you think you can pull this off?” he chuckled to himself, watching one kid awkwardly mimic him. “nice try, kid. but good luck sounding this good while your mom’s screaming at you for hogging the bathroom.”

because toji wasn’t just a househusband — house father — anymore. he was a household name, and everyone knew him. his rise to fame was a wild ride, but hey, at least now he could afford to get the bathroom fixed — one line at a time.

he could hardly wrap his head around how he’d managed to move out of his tiny, crumbling apartment and into a much better place for him and megumi. it was like waking up one day and realizing he’d accidentally won the lottery. “wait, how did i end up here?” he’d mutter to himself, staring at the pristine walls and polished floors. “and how the hell can i pay megumi’s school fees on time without dodging dirty glares from the accounts office?”

he’d walk into the school, head held high, while megumi proudly puffed out his eight-year-old chest. “my daddy’s an actor!” he’d announce to anyone who would listen. toji couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. i mean, the kid wasn’t wrong. he was acting — acting like he had his life together, at least!

but did his new job stop toji from being a little hoe? oh, hell no. 

if anything, the fame went straight to his head — both up and down there, mind you. toji was like a kid in a candy store, and he was using his newfound charm to siphon money from literally every sugar mommy he could find. 

and daddies, too, if he was feeling daring. 

because people would die to be known as someone “close” to the toji fushiguro.

“oh my god, is that him?” a passerby would whisper, nudging her friend as they walked past toji at a private event.

“i think it is! i heard he’s dating someone famous,” her friend would respond, leaning in as if they were sharing a juicy secret. “i’ve seen him at that new club downtown. he’s just so... magnetic.”

“totally! i mean, if i could get him to call me ‘sweetheart’ just once, i’d die a happy woman,” the first friend would say, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically.

toji would smirk to himself, sipping his drink while casually overhearing their chatter. “yep, you’re right. i’m as available as a 24/7 convenience store,” he’d think, reveling in the attention. "i could probably charm the pants off a rock if i tried."

another group of giggling fans would walk by, whispering amongst themselves, “i met him at that charity event last week! he was so sweet! like, did you see the way he talked to everyone? he’s definitely a heartthrob.”

“sweet? you mean hot, right?” one of them would tease, and they’d all burst into laughter.

“please, if he looked at me, i’d die!” another would declare, all starry-eyed.

toji’s smirk widened. “keep it coming, ladies. i’m just here for the show.” he couldn’t deny it; being the center of attention was intoxicating, and he was loving every second of it.

with a wink and a little wave, he’d keep strutting through life like a runway model, knowing full well he had the power to turn heads and keep wallets open. “who knew being a hot voice actor could be this fun?”

great that you’d ask what toji did with all that sweet, sweet cash! save it all for his brat of a son, of course, even if he wouldn’t admit it. beneath that rugged exterior and playful swagger, he had a soft spot for the little sucker.

just the other week, megumi had been rambling on about wanting a really cool new video game console. “but daddy, alllll my friends have one! it’s so unfair!” he’d whined, big blue eyes practically shimmering with hope. toji had rolled his eyes, trying to act tough, but the moment he saw the kid's face, his heart melted like butter on a hot skillet. “fine, but only if you promise to finish your homework first.”

the next day, megumi had unwrapped a brand-new console, complete with all the latest games, and toji had basked in the sheer delight radiating from his son. “this is the best day ever!” megumi had screamed, wrapping his arms around toji’s waist. “thank you, daddy!”

toji grinned like an idiot, pretending to be unimpressed. “yeah, yeah, don’t go losing it on the first day, alright? and remember, no playing after eight!” he was basically a walking contradiction: a grumpy dad who secretly loved being the cool parent.

then there was that time megumi had been obsessed with this rare action figure from his favorite show. toji had seen the way his son’s eyes lit up every time he spotted it in a store, but it was always sold out. so, naturally, when toji found one online at a steep price, he didn’t hesitate. “i’ll just skip my overpriced rum for a week. totally worth it.”

when megumi had opened the package, he’d literally jumped in the air, screeching like a siren. “no way! you got it for me!?” and toji had played it cool, shrugging his shoulders. “what can i say? your dad’s a generous guy.”

of course, this indulgence didn’t go unnoticed by gojo satoru. the six eyes — er, eyes! — of the man always seemed to be on toji, especially when he noticed his friend was splurging just a little too much on himself — like that new leather jacket that looked ridiculously good on him. 

“i need a jacket like that,” gojo had muttered to himself, glancing at his own wardrobe with disappointment.

whenever toji treated himself, gojo would quietly slide a check over to him, nonchalantly muttering, “just a little something for megumi’s school expenses.”

some people would have viewed it as offensive or patronizing, but not toji. he’d always laughed it off, feeling grateful instead. in his mind, gojo was like a guardian angel — “if guardian angels wore sunglasses and had a taste for expensive sweets.” he saw it as gojo looking out for megumi, which made toji’s heart swell with warmth. “who else would want to help raise my kid? might as well accept it.”

“just don’t make a habit of it, alright?” toji would say with a teasing grin. “i don’t need you spoiling him more than i do.”

“too late,” gojo would quip, already plotting ways to sneak more gifts into megumi’s life. “it’s my new hobby.”

so, when gojo casually dropped the bomb that toji would be voicing one of the hottest, trending smut book — “mating with the demon king�� or something equally ridiculous — toji shrugged it off. “simple enough job,” he thought. “and it must be good if they came to me for it.”

but when gojo suggested he read the book to get an idea of the material — “just a little prep work,” he’d said with that infuriatingly charming grin — things took a wild turn.

big mistake, toji would later reflect as he flipped through the pages, his eyebrows shooting up higher than a roller coaster. “who writes this stuff?” he muttered, half-laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.

the content was downright depraved. there were scenes that had him questioning his entire existence. 

“‘he thrust into her like a man possessed, each stroke igniting a fire within her’ — what even is that?” he read aloud, only to burst out laughing at the ridiculousness. megumi, playing quietly in the other room, wondered why his daddy was cackling like a madman.

“uh, daddy? why are you reading that out loud?” megumi had peeked in, eyes wide with curiosity. toji quickly scrambled to shut the book. “uh, just… learning about, uh, cooking techniques!” he stammered, trying to play it cool. “you wouldn’t get it, buddy.”

but the laughter continued to bubble out of him, and he couldn’t help but read some of the more ludicrous lines. “‘his lips found her collarbone, trailing heat like a wildfire’ — who even talks like that?” he shook his head, utterly bemused.

by the end of the chapter, he was howling. “‘she gasped as he swept her off her feet and into a world of ecstasy’ — oh please!” toji chortled, clutching his stomach, imagining how this would all sound through a microphone. “my kid is gonna think i’ve lost my goddamn mind.”

but hey, if this job was going to pay the bills, he figured he could endure a little humiliation. “it’s all in a day’s work, right?” he muttered to himself, finally accepting that he was now the voice of “mating with the demon king.”

all that reading really took its toll on toji — physically, mentally, spiritually even. after hours spent tripping over lines like “pressed against the throbbing heat of his desire” (yeah, that one took five tries to get through without laughing), he needed to clear his head. so, he found himself at a bar, halfway through a drink, hoping to numb the embarrassment he’d just endured in the name of rent money.

then stumbles this stranger — a cute, very tipsy stranger who quickly parked herself right next to him and started chatting him up, wide-eyed and slightly unsteady. great, drunk people, he thought, resisting an eyeroll as she grinned at him, looking ready to either start a fight or profess her love. 

maybe both.

of course, what are the odds she’d go ahead and throw up on his shoes? yes, his brand-new shoes, because, apparently, the universe had decided that tonight, toji fushiguro would be the world’s personal punching bag. “can’t even get through one drink without some shit happening,” he muttered to himself as she looked up at him with a horrified expression. “we’re off to a great start here, huh?”

after some water and some awkward apologies (mostly her apologizing, mostly him trying not to laugh), they fell into surprisingly decent conversation. she was rambling about her job, the stress, the weird demands — stuff he could sympathize with, honestly. 

and that’s when he dropped it, just for fun: “i’m a voice actor.”

her eyes sparkled with recognition — a little too much recognition, actually, which made him narrow his eyes. “wait, what’s your name?” she asked, suddenly all ears.

“toji. toji fushiguro.”

the second he said it, her face went from curious to horrified to... oh yeah, she knew exactly who he was. “wait,” she gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. “you’re... you’re the voice actor for my book.”

toji raised an eyebrow, deadpan. 

so this was the writer, the one who wrote all that nonsense he’d been struggling through for days. well, wasn’t that just the cherry on top. not only was this his boss but also the very person responsible for phrases like “pulsing need” and “moans spilling like honey.” and she’d just puked on him. 

talk about a power move.

“small world,” he said, his tone dry as desert sand. wonderful, he thought. my boss threw up on me. but, hey, the night was still young. 

he took a long sip from his drink, hoping she wouldn’t take this as an excuse to unleash some kind of creative critique.

“i... i didn’t know you’d be here,” she stammered, a shade redder than before, probably realizing what this made her look like — her, the lady behind the “throbbing heat of desire” shtick.

“don’t worry,” he said, giving her a smirk. “i won’t tell anyone the literary mastermind responsible for all that... romance has a weak stomach.”

you probably don’t remember much after you composed yourself following that second round of projectile embarrassment — but don’t worry, toji remembers. the man’s got a steel trap for the kinds of memories you’d prefer stayed buried. once he’d figured out that you weren’t exactly in shape to be left wandering around, he made the executive decision to get you home. yeah, he’d just met you a couple hours ago, but somehow, through the boozy haze and questionable life choices, he’d managed to catch your address. 

impressive detective work, really… or, well, you may have blurted it out mid-ramble about how “the streetlight outside is the only thing lighting up your lonely hallway.” 

a touch dramatic, but, hey, it worked.

so he got you back to your place (no thanks to the cab driver’s judgmental side-eye), got you up the stairs without you faceplanting, and, after propping you up long enough to unlock your door, he even went the extra mile and tucked you under the covers. you, meanwhile, mumbled something about “tequila being the devil,” blissfully oblivious to the poor guy who’d just witnessed more of your personal life than your closest friends. toji took one last look before heading out, chuckling to himself as you drifted off, probably already dreaming of whatever literary nonsense you’d be writing next.

but what really stuck with him? the damn “dancing queen” chorus ringing in his ears from the bar. maybe it was still playing somewhere out there in the night, or maybe you’d just cursed him with it. because as he walked home, hands shoved in his pockets, there it was, looping over and over in his head. 

“you can dance… you can jive…” 

great, now he’d be humming it for days.

both you and toji were snapped back into the fluorescent-lit reality of the conference room, where gojo was still going on about… royalties? percentages? to be honest, the entire spiel sounded more like corporate white noise to you. 

toji, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair, looking as disinterested as humanly possible without actually falling asleep. across the screen, suguru appeared in one of those stiff, all-business modes, nodding along to gojo’s speech. his eyes had that telltale sparkle that only appeared when money was the topic — “stakeholder perks,” as gojo would call it, though it just meant suguru got to rake in extra cash on the side.

“and once the audiobook’s live, the split from the sales will be recalculated quarterly, yadda yadda, yadaaa —” gojo’s voice broke into a sing-song, clearly amusing only himself. “anyway, you guys will see some real sweet checks from this.”

“royalties…” suguru interjected, a bit too smoothly, “remind me what those projected percentages were again, satoru?”

toji suppressed a snort. here they were, with the man himself who could barely be bothered to read a weather report straight, much less your raunchy magnum opus. good luck explaining earnings, gojo.

“oh yeah, royalties!” gojo cleared his throat, launching into a number-laden monologue that seemed to somehow both explain everything and nothing at once. toji barely listened, glancing at the digital clock on the wall. it was only when gojo pivoted, with a suddenly very pointed look, that toji actually tuned back in.

“so, did everyone do their, ah, homework?” gojo grinned as his gaze swept across the room, his eyes landing on you with a bit too much knowing amusement. “read the… material?”

you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, and every other voice actor in the room suddenly found the table, the wall, or their own shoes very interesting.

all except toji, of course, who stretched back with the most obnoxious smirk you’d seen yet.

“homework?” he drawled, deadpan as always. “yeah, got right into it. wouldn’t want to miss a single word of that… fine literature.”

a few of the others exchanged awkward looks, clearly unsure how to respond to the dead-serious way toji said fine literature without a shred of irony. meanwhile, you shrank a little in your seat, not exactly loving the fact that the guy you threw up on was apparently the one voice actor who actually read your work cover-to-cover. not to mention, this was toji fushiguro, the voice actor who’d taken the world by storm with a single, leaked snippet. you'd heard your fans say that he was some kind of god-tier talent — practically a household name. and now? 

he was casually staring you down like he'd just read your diary.

“it’s… it’s not that bad,” you muttered defensively, feeling a prickling heat rise up your neck.

toji raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “oh, didn’t say it was bad. just, uh… thorough.”

you felt the blush intensify, but before you could reply, gojo jumped back in, undeterred. “great! since everyone’s read it now, we’ll dive into scene breakdowns tomorrow, with input from our illustrious author here.” he winked at you in that annoyingly playful way of his, as if he’d just orchestrated the whole thing for kicks. “it’s all about bringing your vision to life, yeah?”

“looking forward to it.” toji’s tone was smooth, with just enough emphasis to hint at the mischief lying behind his calm expression. you could swear there was a glimmer of challenge in his eyes, and the fact that he’d actually read the book — a book that you wrote in a creative haze, no less — was beginning to feel less like a weird coincidence and more like some cosmic joke at your expense.

suguru’s voice broke through, “and let’s hope that translates to success, right, gojo? my dividends would certainly appreciate it.”

“oh, don’t you worry, sugu bear.” gojo leaned in with that shark-like grin of his. “with toji voicing this masterpiece, and the author right here to guide us? we’re printing money already.”

with a dramatic flourish, gojo clapped his hands together, instantly breaking the tension. “alright, dismissed! snacks are out front — help yourselves, or not! more for me, after all,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye as he clearly envisioned his sugary hoard.

suguru took this moment as his graceful exit cue, giving a short nod before the screen blinked off. gojo sighed theatrically, clasping his chest. “oh, suguru, leaving so soon? you wound me! who’s going to discuss ‘dividends’ and ‘royalties’ with me now?”

nobody had the heart — or possibly the patience — to answer that question, which suited gojo just fine as he spun on his heel, making his way toward the snack table. 

you, meanwhile, considered vanishing altogether, at least until the next segment of the day when you’d actually need to make yourself useful. judging by the energy in the room, none of the other voice actors were in a rush to strike up a conversation with you. 

ouch. apparently, being the creator of their next project wasn’t that much of a social asset.

you edged toward the door, already halfway to freedom when, like clockwork, a deep, familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “leaving so soon?”

you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. obnoxious didn’t even cover half of it. “just… thought i’d give you guys a break from me,” you muttered, gripping the strap of your bag tighter, hoping it looked casual instead of like an attempt to bolt.

toji’s laugh was low, almost teasing. “a break? i don’t mind the company. in fact, i think the others are just shy.” his words were smooth, but there was a mischievous lilt to them, like he was very aware of just how uncomfortable you probably were.

“right,” you deadpanned, summoning every ounce of sarcasm you had left. “they’re all just shy.”

he chuckled, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the snack table. gojo was already there, unabashedly sampling a tray of tiny cupcakes. he shot you both a grin that was, in all honesty, more threatening than friendly. 

oh god, why is he looking at us like that?

“so!” gojo swiped another cupcake, leaning back against the table as he took in you and toji with an almost too-pleased expression. “getting along, are we? i mean, it’s not every day you get to work so closely with the voice behind your book, right?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, as if trying to ignite some sort of spark just to make things interesting.

toji, unbothered as ever, shrugged. “she already threw up on me. might as well be friends after that, huh?”

oh my god. 

you felt the flush rise to your face instantly, a mix of embarrassment and horror. he did not just bring that up in front of gojo, of all people.

“aww, how cute!” gojo crooned, looking absolutely delighted as he clapped his hands in that overly-enthusiastic, not-at-all sincere way. “bonding over bodily fluids. you guys are practically soulmates!”

“please, kill me now,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at the snack table like it might provide an escape hatch.

toji leaned in, voice dropping to a near whisper, and you could practically hear the smirk in his tone. “don’t worry, author. i’ve seen worse.”

“great, that’s… comforting,” you muttered, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you grabbed a snack at random. at this point, you were ready to make a quick exit, potentially before the day’s work even started if it meant escaping this scene.

“now, don’t run off too fast,” gojo added, wagging a finger at you with a sly grin. “i’m expecting all of us back here in an hour, nice and energized. don’t want any excuses!”

toji shot you one last look, equal parts teasing and unreadable, before he turned to grab a coffee. “guess you’re stuck with me for a little longer,” he murmured, a faint glimmer of humor in his eyes.

wonderful. absolutely wonderful. well, at least there’s cupcakes.

it’s only five minutes into the recording session, and you’re already wondering if there’s a job market for earth-burrowing positions. if there is, you’d gladly take it. anything would be better than this…circus.

the sound booth is packed with voice actors delivering line after line of your book’s carefully crafted (painfully cheesy) smutty dialogue. you bite your lip, both cringing and resisting the urge to laugh out loud as one of the actors, a slender guy with an unfortunate tendency to over-dramatize every vowel, reads his line with a tragic sigh.

“i can’t help it… i just want to devour you.”

devour you? you want to throw yourself into the nearest trash can. before you can stop yourself, you lean forward into the mic, managing a half-apologetic, half-pleading tone. “uh, could you maybe… ease up on the ‘devour’ part? like, less dramatic, more… suave?”

he nods seriously, doing a quick vocal warm-up before trying again. “i can’t help it… i just want to devoooour—”

“nope! nope, nope, nope!” you blurt, a little louder than you intended, the cringe spiraling out of control. you quickly clear your throat, trying to sound as professional as possible. “let’s, uh, maybe just skip to the next line.”

from the corner of the room, you catch sight of gojo, who’s grinning so widely you’re genuinely concerned his face might stay that way forever. he’s watching you with an infectious enthusiasm that’s bordering on manic, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement. you’re half-expecting him to yell, “surprise! this is an snl skit!”

you rub at your temple, wishing the earth would do you a solid and open up beneath you, while the next actor — a petite, sweet-looking woman who’s visibly uncomfortable — takes her turn. she clears her throat, looking down at her script, and delivers the line in a barely-there whisper, “i… i want you to take me… take me as if…”

“um…” you grimace, instantly feeling the heat rise to your face. “maybe a bit louder? but, you know, sensual.”

she blushes, muttering something under her breath before raising her voice, though it’s still trembling. “i… i want you to… take me… as if…”

toji, who’s been watching the whole scene from his seat, chuckles lowly, and his smirk sends a jolt of embarrassment through you. “jeez, author, why don’t you just hop in there and show ’em how it’s done?” he mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm, though it’s not unkind.

you throw him a flat look, biting back an eye roll. not like i wanted to be here, you think to yourself. it’s just that somehow, the universe decided that today you’d be responsible for turning lines you’d never want to say out loud into something even remotely palatable.

and it only gets worse. 

another actor — a deep-voiced, well-meaning guy in his mid-40s — leans into his mic and reads out, in a gruff voice you can only describe as a rejected batman impersonation: “you’re driving me… wild.” his tone is so intense it’s like he’s threatening to fight the listener in a parking lot.

“okay… we might want to dial it back a little,” you say carefully, hoping to mask your horror with politeness. “just… a little less ‘supervillain,’ more… warm?”

you hear toji chuckle behind you, low and rumbling, clearly reveling in your suffering. and as you glance over your shoulder, you find gojo, once again, looking like this is the best entertainment he’s had in years. 

at this point, he might actually cry from laughing.

just when you think it can’t get any worse, toji stands, giving you a wink as he heads into the booth for his turn. he takes the mic, his face blank and unreadable as he starts reading the next line.

“i need you… right now,” he purrs, his voice oozing that lazy, sensual charm you’d envisioned for this character. it’s… almost unfair, really. 

there’s not an ounce of irony or overacting. 

toji’s delivery is so smooth, so confident, that it catches you off guard, a flush rising to your cheeks.

gojo lets out a low whistle, giving you a teasing look as if to say, see? was that so hard?

“finally,” you mutter under your breath, swallowing the lump in your throat. gojo raises a brow, clearly enjoying every second of your awkwardness.

you sigh, mentally bracing yourself for the rest of the recording. if nothing else, at least one actor seems to have nailed the tone — much to your embarrassment and gojo’s endless delight.

you clear your throat, attempting to regain some semblance of control over the recording session, which is proving to be harder than herding a pack of caffeinated cats. “right, everyone, let’s, uh, keep moving and go ahead with recording the dragon king’s lines. toji, if you’re ready?”

but you barely finish your sentence before gojo claps toji on the shoulder with that all-too-annoying bromance energy, grinning from ear to ear. “our star is ready, aren’t ya, toji? i mean, look at this guy! look at him! can’t believe i found this gem for gojo-sonic!” gojo’s voice carries that infuriatingly proud tone that practically drips with smug satisfaction.

you stifle an eye roll, and even the other actors exchange glances, half-annoyed, half-amused at gojo’s over-the-top fawning. but before you can jump in to cut gojo off, toji just smirks, sliding comfortably into the mic like he was born to deliver cheesy lines.

“alright, alright,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. “let’s see what you’ve got, mr. dragon king.”

toji adjusts the headphones, his lazy smirk already primed. 

and then he begins, voice low and sultry, hitting each cringe-worthy word with the same ridiculous gravitas that has the whole room mesmerized.

“i have waited eons for a beauty like yours to grace my realm. come… be mine, and together we shall rule the heavens.”

you can practically feel everyone holding their breath, transfixed by the sheer sincerity in his tone, despite the line’s absurdity. you, too, can’t help but feel a blush creeping up your neck, which is just unfair given you wrote these lines. 

you knew what they were meant to sound like, but this? 

he’s delivering them like they’re damn poetry.

toji doesn’t stop there, though, his deep voice carrying each line as though he’s serenading the mic. “my heart burns with a fire only you can soothe. take my hand, and i swear to guard your heart with my very life.”

gojo is practically fawning, batting his eyelashes like a proud parent in the corner. “see, people, this is how it’s done! let the dragon king here show you amateurs how it’s really supposed to sound!”

you resist the urge to chuck something at gojo as the other actors’ eyes widen, watching in awe.

one of them mutters under their breath, “no way we’re topping that.”

and then, toji’s voice dips even lower, the next line coming out in a growl that somehow manages to be both dramatic and, disturbingly, kind of… enchanting.

“you are the breath in my lungs, the flame in my veins. without you, i am but a shadow… a beast in the dark.”

the room is dead silent. 

you’re all fawning, gushing messes, and you’re not even sure how it happened. it’s like toji’s somehow turned this trial recording into an absurdly hot moment. you can barely believe you’re hearing the same lines you once labeled “ridiculously cringey” in the draft.

finally, he leans back, looking pleased with himself, as if he hadn’t just left everyone a little breathless. gojo practically beams with pride, nudging you. 

“so… i think you’ve found your dragon king, wouldn’t you say?”

you nod, still stunned, half in disbelief, half in begrudging admiration. if this was just the trial recording, you could only imagine how many blushing, starry-eyed listeners this final audiobook was going to leave in its wake.

the moment the trial recording session wraps up, gojo is the first one on his feet, clapping his hands like he's just watched the performance of a lifetime. “brilliant!” he practically shouts, pulling out his phone faster than you can blink. “suguru needs to hear this,” he mutters, already dialing his business partner like a kid who can’t wait to brag about his latest toy.

sometimes you really do forget that gojo is the ceo of a multi-million dollar company — an erotic audiobook company, no less. 

is he this passionate about the art, or is it just the money? either way, watching him fanboy over his own employee leaves you a mix of amused and exhausted.

there’s a charm to it, though, even if it’s a little baffling to witness in real time.

as the energy in the studio starts to mellow, you find yourself actually breathing a bit easier. for once, things seem to be going smoothly. 

maybe this whole collaboration wouldn’t be a disaster after all. 

you let yourself relax, even if a small part of your brain chides you with a quick reminder: next time, skip the cheap caffeine fix when you’re pulling an all-nighter writing smut. 

or… cheap anything, really. 

yeah, you don’t actually smoke, you remind yourself — except, well, that one time in college, but hey, that was a whole different you. one that should stay buried in the relics of questionable decisions, right next to your spiral-bound notes of embarrassingly bad poetry.

just as you’re praying to the universe that this is all going to wrap up without any extra drama, you hear it. the sound that’s become both your nightmare and… okay, maybe, a little less than that.

“well, princess,” toji’s voice rumbles, his tone as amused as it is teasing, “got anything else you want from your dragon king?”

you close your eyes and will the ground to open up beneath you, but nope, nothing. 

nothing but the sound of your heartbeat doing an awkward little tango in your chest.

of course he’d pick now to resurrect that ridiculous moniker from last night. like it wasn’t humiliating enough when he threw it out there while you were a couple drinks deep and all but glued to your seat at the bar. 

oh, you’re practically begging the universe to put you out of your misery — well, actually, now that you think about it, maybe being wrapped up in those beefy arms wouldn’t be the worst fate…

wow. get a grip, girl. this is the caffeine deprivation talking. 

definitely that.

but then toji smirks at you, an eyebrow raised, as if he’s just dared you to respond. and all you can think is… oh, lord, this man is trouble.

"c’mon, just a drink,” toji insists, flashing that devil-may-care grin that both ruins and improves your day within a matter of seconds. he’s leaning back like he’s got all the time in the world, casually ignoring how you definitely don’t. 

“trust me, princess, it’ll settle your nerves.”

it’s not like you need a reminder of the mess that was last night. every foggy memory swirls in your head, like life’s own cruel version of a mocktail — one garnished with shame, regret, and a generous helping of last night’s tequila. 

if anything, adding more drinks to this equation feels about as smart as walking blindfolded into traffic.

but toji’s already up, stretching like he’s completely unaware of the chaotic memories this whole “outing” is summoning. “just a quick look around gojo-sonic, yeah?” he says, nodding toward the maze of hallways beyond the studio door, his face the perfect picture of innocence.

“you’re new here, and it’s… important to know the lay of the land. work reasons.”

you can practically hear the quotation marks around that “work reasons.”

“you know,” he adds with a wink, “never hurts to see where the magic happens.”

yeah, right. you have a feeling the only magic here is him somehow dragging you deeper into your personal nightmare.

you don’t even get the chance to respond with a yes, no, or a “maybe next century” when toji’s phone lights up and his whole expression darkens. not exactly the look you expect from the guy whose voice practically ruined half the internet last month with that infamous line about... well, yeah, better not go there right now.

“satoru, the brat got into a fight,” he growls into the phone, and suddenly, satoru’s jaw hits the floor with such force you can practically hear it from across the studio. toji doesn’t stick around for a reply, though — he’s already striding toward the door like a man with a purpose, ignoring satoru’s spluttered, “the what did who?”

and somehow — god knows how — you find yourself tagging along like it’s the most natural thing in the world. maybe it’s curiosity, maybe it’s the thrill of seeing toji in full boss mode, or maybe it’s just because, oh, y’know, “responsible adult and responsibilities” instincts or whatever. 

but the further you walk, the more you realize that toji doesn’t mind you following one bit. in fact, he’s practically matching his pace to yours, as if you’re part of some unofficial escort mission to... whoever this “brat” is.

which, speaking of, who the hell is megumi?

you’re still trying to wrap your head around how this was supposed to be a “quick tour” of the office and not, somehow, an impromptu escort mission to the world’s sleekest car, a porsche 911 turbo — yep, that’s right, the kind of car you’ve only ever seen in movies where the bad guy’s got a mysterious, sexy side. all you can manage is, “you own this?”

toji shrugs, slipping his keys into the ignition with an air of pure, unbothered cool. “you don’t?”

oh. okay. 

you barely have time to process this response before he’s peeling out of the parking lot, narrowly avoiding a stray cat, a snail-paced truck, and an old lady who’s almost sacrificed her wig to his driving style. but hey, all part of the thrill, right?

definitely not questioning life choices here.

by the time you pull up to a cutesy primary school — you know, the kind with pastel-colored gates and cartoon murals of bears and rabbits — you’re genuinely confused. 

toji seems like the last guy who’d be here unless it was some undercover op. and “megumi,” whoever he is, sounds like he could be the school’s playground menace.

“wait, this is where we’re headed?” you ask, eyeing the building like it might suddenly make sense.

but toji’s out of the car, moving so fast you practically have to jog to keep up. the school secretary gives you both a wary glance, likely sensing the storm of exasperation radiating off toji, as he strides straight into the principal’s office. there, sitting on a chair with his arms crossed and an unimpressed scowl that screams “mini-toji,” is a little boy with spiky hair and an air of quiet defiance.

without missing a beat, toji asks, “megs! did you win?”

the principal, a kindly-looking woman whose expression is rapidly shifting from “calm mediator” to “i don’t get paid enough for this,” clears her throat. 

“mr. fushiguro, your son wasn’t... in the wrong, per se. it appears he was, um, defending his honor.”

defending his honor? you blink. what kind of second grader even knows what that means?

“that true, ‘gumi?” toji says, arms crossed, looking every bit the unbothered, proud dad of the year.

“he said my dad was a... weird voice actor,” megumi mutters, then shrugs. “so i said at least my dad works.”

you nearly choke, partly from stifled laughter, partly from the sheer absurdity of all this. here you were, thinking “honor” meant, like, taking down a playground empire or something. 

but no, megumi’s just a kid with a sharp tongue and a little too much of toji’s attitude.

“damn right, kid,” toji says, patting megumi’s head, then looking over at you with that familiar, annoyingly smug grin. “raised him right, yeah?”

“...sure,” you say, because what else can you even say at this point? it’s like you’ve stumbled into the weirdest sitcom ever, and the laugh track is somehow missing.

the principal’s expression morphs into something almost painfully polite as she addresses you, tiptoeing around the word wife with an impressive mix of caution and curiosity. 

“are you, ah... megumi’s guardian?”

and then, in perfect, unplanned harmony, you, toji, and megumi all blurt out, “no.”

the unity, the instinctual synchronization — it’s like you’re all on the same wavelength, for better or worse. soul-level understanding, or something. 

what the hell is happening right now?

with a polite smile and a “let’s never speak of this again” nod, you three finally leave the principal’s office. megumi, looking more bored than reprimanded, flicks at a speck of lint on his uniform, while you and toji attempt to navigate the hallway swarming with concerned teachers and worried front-desk ladies. and by “concerned” and “worried,” it’s more like they’re curious about toji’s parenting style and, let’s be honest, probably toji himself.

“oh, mr. fushiguro!” one particularly invested teacher coos, “we heard about the incident. is everything all right?”

toji, of course, laps up the attention, chuckling low and throwing in a wink here and there like he’s starring in some kind of action-movie dad role. the ladies are practically falling over themselves to get a response from him, their questions barely veiled as they assess you with raised brows and sideways glances, a classic “who’s she?” written all over their faces.

“and you are...?” one of the front-desk ladies finally asks, voice all sugar-coated and sharp.

toji slides in smoothly, cutting off whatever half-formed, awkward introduction you were about to stammer out. “oh, she’s a colleague,” he says, his tone effortlessly suave, like introducing a perfectly respectable coworker and totally not the author of his last, extremely explicit audiobook project.

you’re almost grateful until it hits you — this is the same guy who made a whole production of calling you “princess” in the recording booth just yesterday. 

as if he hasn’t played one of your absurdly corny dragon kings in all his full-throttle intensity. 

and now he’s here, all casual and cool, giving you a proper, respectable title like he hasn’t spent hours voicing content these people probably keep hidden under their pillows at night.

but at least he didn’t out you as the actual author of those… creative pieces. 

that’s something.

toji is out here, doing his social service to society. and no, it’s not about lending his voice to steamy audiobooks, thank you very much. 

today, he’s serving the community by providing these teachers with a generous five minutes of his attention, which they’ll probably be replaying in their heads until the next parent-teacher meeting. and — oh, what a surprise! — that’s exactly what they’re talking about now, circling back to how he must come to the next one for a “serious discussion” about megumi.

toji’s stance? why bother? if the kid’s acing his tests, staying out of trouble (mostly), and keeping a lid on the whole “honor” thing, why does he need to sit through hours of polite lecturing from the pta?

while he’s busy justifying his lack of parental enthusiasm, you feel a pair of eyes on you. glancing down, you meet megumi’s steady, curious stare. 

it’s oddly intense for a kid his age, but you’re not one to back down from a challenge. you narrow your eyes, feigning a critical, assessing look, and he visibly falters, going slightly pink around the ears.

ah, kids.

as you three make your way out of the building — toji still being all socialite with the staff and probably postponing that pta date indefinitely — you suddenly find yourself in a mini interview�� with megumi. it’s as if this eight-year-old has appointed himself the gatekeeper of his dad’s life and has decided you’re the latest applicant.

“so… what’s your favorite color?” he asks, with an unblinking, serious stare.

“uh…” you pause, realizing the weight of your answer here. “blue. like, uh, light blue.”

he nods, considering. “good answer.”

a pause. “favorite superhero?”

“batman?” you try, glancing at him for a sign of approval.

“hmm. fine. but iron man would’ve been better.”

noted, you think, as he then moves to cereal brand, favorite animal, and even your preferred subject in school. you navigate each question as best as you can, almost feeling the burn of a final exam.

then, in a moment of quiet, just as you think the quiz is over, megumi looks down and asks, voice barely a whisper, “did i… do the right thing? defending my… my hone-er?”

“your… oh, honor?” you say, a smile twitching at the corner of your mouth as you catch his wide-eyed, earnest gaze.

he nods, cheeks tinting a bit as he scuffs his sneaker on the ground.

“megumi,” you say, kneeling a little to get on his level, “defending your honor is important. just… maybe don’t go for all the punches next time? sometimes words work too.” you give him a playful nudge.

he nods, seeming satisfied with that answer, then glances over his shoulder. “and don’t tell daddy i asked.”

“your secret’s safe with me,” you whisper back, giving him a conspiratorial wink.

toji’s arms were crossed, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched the little interaction between you and megumi. 

he was always careful about the people around his kid, fiercely protective to the point that very few in his line of work even knew megumi existed. the only ones who had ever met him were gojo and geto — and that was already a stretch.

but something about how you handled the kid’s questions, actually entertained them with the same patience he’d usually summon up himself, caught him off guard. the way you knelt down to answer him, even kept a straight face through the hard-hitting topics of favorite superheroes and cereal brands... it was surprisingly nice. 

almost… reassuring?

ugh, what was he even thinking? you were still the same girl who’d written, and he mentally cringed as he remembered the line, 

“dragons may have claws, but they’re nothing compared to the grip i have on your…” 

yeah, yeah, he really didn’t need to finish that thought. the memory alone had him chuckling under his breath, shaking his head.

of course, that earned him a suspicious glance from both you and megumi.

“what’s so funny?” you asked, brow raised.

“yeah, daddy, why’re you laughing?” megumi chimed in, clearly puzzled.

toji waved a hand dismissively, realizing he’d just blown his cool for no reason. 

“nothin’, don’t worry about it. just thinkin’,” he mumbled, aware he’d probably looked a little unhinged just then. 

maybe he really needed to work on his awareness — or maybe he just needed to get a grip, period.

toji’s mind was doing somersaults, genuinely debating if he could manage both you and megumi tagging along for the afternoon. megumi’s insistence didn’t help; kid was determined that toji should keep you both company for the rest of the day, despite having school hours left. 

“you’ve got work, right?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious. “aren’t you supposed to be off doing big, important actor things?”

toji only smirked, whipping out his phone with the sort of confidence that made it clear he had a workaround for everything. he tapped open a message to gojo, fingers moving fast.

you [11:31 am]: hey. kid’s dragging me to the arcade. need a few hours off. gojo s. [11:33 am]: need or WANT, toji? ;)) you [11:31 am]: like i said, KID is dragging me. gojo s. [11:33 am]: oh sure, blame megumi. what, does he have you wrapped around his little finger or something? you [11:31 am]: think whatever you want, but you’re handling my schedule for the rest of the day. gojo s. [11:33 am]: wait, are you with...the AUTHOR? ;)) you [11:31 am]: quit smiling through text, it’s creepy. gojo s. [11:33 am]: i’ll allow it. but only cause i’m such a good friend.  gojo s. [11:33 am]: tell megumi uncle gojo says hi  gojo s. [11:34 am]: and he owes me 20 bucks. you [11:35 am]: he doesn’t owe you anything. gojo s. [11:35 am]: fine, but bring me something from the prize counter.

satisfied, toji pocketed his phone and shrugged. 

“all right, kid. we’ll hang out for a bit. but i swear if you drag me into any embarrassing games —”

“arcade!” megumi interrupted, not even giving him a chance to finish. “i can show you both that i’m the best at every game! daddy taught me how to play, so you better watch out!”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at the kid’s enthusiasm.

“all right, let’s go. but you better not make me look bad, kid,” toji said, smirking down at his son, who was now practically vibrating with eagerness.

“arcade!” megumi yelled again, nearly bouncing as he grabbed your hand and began to lead the way.

megumi barely lets you settle into the leather of the passenger seat before he’s bouncing in the back, practically vibrating with energy as he plugs toji’s phone into the aux. you’re trying to wrap your head around being in toji fushiguro’s car, the man who not only voices the romantic lead in your steamiest, most dramatic book but also owns a luxury car that could probably pay off your loans twice over.

"so, uh... passenger princess, huh?" toji smirks, catching you in mid-thought.

"i… what?" you stammer, feeling the heat creep up as he settles a hand on the wheel with all the nonchalance in the world. “i, uh —” but you’re cut off by megumi excitedly blasting his choice of artist: korn.

"your son listens to korn?" you blurt out, giving toji a mix of awe and disbelief.

toji just raises an eyebrow, deadpanning, “yours doesn’t?”

ouch. okay, fair point. 

because no, you do not have a kid, or a husband, or even a boyfriend…or any romantic prospects, really. 

toji’s question leaves you fidgeting as you try to muster a dignified response.

meanwhile, megumi is full-on screaming to the lyrics of "freak on a leash," and you catch snippets like “something takes a part of me!” which, yeah, relatable — korn is honestly hitting the mood. but of course, toji catches you staring out the window, attempting to look casual as he throws you a side-eye.

"so, what’s got you without a boyfriend?” he asks, way too casually, as if this was a natural segue from whatever korn-fueled karaoke session is happening in the backseat.

you practically choke on air. "what, me? no, i’m...," you laugh awkwardly, shifting in the passenger seat. “besides, i don’t meet many guys. i'm just… you know… doing my thing.”

megumi, pausing his headbanging just for a moment, turns and looks at you with an exaggerated ‘yikes’ face, as if being single was the worst possible fate in his young, eight-year-old eyes. 

but then he shrugs, clearly uninterested in this adult drama and goes back to screaming, “feeling like a freak on a leash!”

toji, still watching you, smirks, “so, doing your ‘thing’ includes no boyfriend, no husband... what, are you just swearing off men?”

"uh, no!” you say quickly, too quickly, and feel your face heat up. “just haven’t... y’know, met anyone worth dating. been busy.”

toji gives a low chuckle, clearly entertained. “busy doing what, writing your ‘torrid love stories’?”

you make a face, biting your lip. 

“they’re not that torrid.” but even as you say it, you hear the echo of a particularly cheesy line you’d written for his character in your novel, which, mortifyingly enough, involved the phrase “my darling flame, you set my very soul alight.”

toji chuckles, as if reading your thoughts. “maybe i’ll get to hear one of those lines in real life someday, princess.”

“can we not call me that while megumi’s in the car?” you mutter, glancing back, only to find megumi fully engrossed in his self-proclaimed vocal talents.

“noted.” toji snickers, shooting you another mischievous look as korn plays on, megumi happily singing about “breaking down” in the back.

“but hey,” toji says smoothly, hand resting on the gearshift, “just so you know, even my son knows a good band when he hears one.”

you roll your eyes at him, managing to mumble, “at least one of you is a bit mature.”

the porsche pulls up to the arcade with enough fanfare that heads start turning even before the engine purrs to a stop. not that the onlookers were ready for what steps out next: a towering, chiseled man looking like he’s on his way to a modeling photoshoot, a cute kid in full confidence mode, and, well… you.

still feeling a little dizzy from the korn concert that just took place, you barely register megumi bolting out of the car with a grin, leaving you and toji to get your bearings. his energy’s practically crackling by the time toji pays for the play card, and you’re pretty sure if he has to wait even one more minute, he’s about to combust.

“okay, okay, slow down, megumi,” you say, trying to keep up as he yanks you to the nearest neon-lit game. 

but the kid isn’t hearing it. he’s already dragging you to one machine, and then the next, moving faster than you can process where you even are. each one is seemingly more intense and blinding than the last, and you’re hit with a sensory overload of neon lights, retro game sounds, and the feel of the arcade carpet sticking just a little too much to your shoes.

toji’s watching the whole ordeal with a bemused smirk. you and his kid are like a whirlwind of neon and laughter, barely stopping to catch your breaths between games. the sight is somehow… comforting. like a scene from a life he hadn’t planned but couldn’t help finding strangely compelling.

but then he catches himself. seriously? 

he shakes his head. this is not the time to get all sentimental over his kid’s new ‘playdate’ or whatever. 

he’s just here because megumi insisted, and maybe he thought it’d be amusing to watch you get dragged around by an eight-year-old with zero restraint. that’s it. 

nothing more.

yeah, right. his internal grumbling comes to an abrupt stop as he watches megumi take your hand and pull you over to a classic claw machine. the kid’s looking up at you with the widest eyes you’ve ever seen, all excitement and pure innocence, like winning one of those knockoff plush toys is the pinnacle of existence.

“you got this?” you ask, grinning at him as he lines up the claw with intense concentration.

“of course! my dad showed me,” he declares, like he’s about to go pro in the claw game league.

toji, watching from a distance, feels a twinge in his chest. 

yeah, he’d shown megumi how to play this game ages ago, more to give him an edge over the other kids than anything else. it was a dad-and-son thing, just the two of them. but seeing megumi look up at you with the same pride and excitement makes him feel… something. 

and he doesn’t know if he likes it.

you’re so focused on megumi’s moves that you don’t notice toji’s slight frown, nor do you hear his quiet mutter of, “this is ridiculous.” 

but when he sees the way your eyes light up as megumi successfully nabs a cheap stuffed animal — a lopsided dinosaur, of all things — and the way you celebrate like he’s won an olympic medal, he feels himself relax, just a little.

he chuckles, shaking his head and crossing his arms as you high-five megumi, both of you beaming over a prize that probably cost less than the game itself. but toji doesn’t move. 

he stands there, rooted, as you two bounce from game to game, his thoughts too jumbled to focus on anything else.

but maybe… maybe that’s okay for now.

toji’s phone buzzes just as he’s leaning against the side of a vintage racing game, watching you and megumi practically lighting up the whole arcade with your laughter. he glances down to see satoru’s name pop up on the screen, already feeling a headache brewing.

gojo s. [12:20 pm]: so, arcade? 😏 you [12:20 pm]: yeah, i just told you. gojo s. [12:20 pm]: nah, i mean WHY the arcade? what are we celebrating here, toji? ;)) you [12:21 pm]: why does it matter gojo s. [12:21 pm]: CUZZZZ gojo s. [12:21 pm]: lemme guess, megumi's there with her now, right?  gojo s. [12:22 pm]: bet they’re having the time of their lives, while YOU gojo s. [12:22 pm]: you’re just there all moody on the sidelines😔

toji glances up at you and megumi, who’ve now moved on to a skee-ball machine, both cheering as you score a perfect 50-point throw.

you [12:23 pm]: like i said, work stuff. gojo s. [12:24 pm]: HAHA. work stuff, right.  gojo s. [12:24 pm]: work stuff that has megumi running around grinning like that.  gojo s. [12:25 pm]: bro gojo s. [12:25 pm]: you’re terrible at lying.  gojo s. [12:26 pm]: she’s a keeper if she can deal with YOU you [12:26 pm]: keep dreaming.

he slips his phone back into his pocket, unable to shake off the grin creeping onto his face as he watches you high-five megumi. the kid’s happier than he’s seen in ages, and he…

well, he can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed watching anyone just being with his kid.

toji stands back, taking in the moment — megumi’s laughter echoing through the arcade, your smile as you lift him up with an ease that has the kid giggling uncontrollably — and for some reason, his mind has turned the whole scene into a rom-com montage.

you are the dancing queen…

it’s absurd, really. 

he doesn’t even like abba. but there it is, the stupid song playing in his head, all set to the image of you holding his son, twirling him like he weighs nothing, both of you in fits of laughter.

young and sweet, only seventeen…

and for a split second, his heart does this awkward little stutter. 

he chalks it up to the neon lights. 

or maybe the greasy smell of the arcade food messing with his senses. but as he watches you hold megumi up, almost as if he’s flying, he can’t ignore that ridiculous, cheesy pull in his chest.

feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah...

oh god. 

is he seriously catching himself grinning at the way you’re both trying to get him to join in? megumi’s little hand reaches out, beckoning him over, and you’re giving him that smile, that “come on, get over here, big guy” look.

you can dance, you can jive…

the song hits that soaring note in his head just as he finally gives in and starts to walk over, and his pulse actually picks up, as if he’s not just at some run-down arcade but in the middle of some ridiculously sappy rom-com finale.

having the time of your life…

and then megumi is shrieking again, calling, “dad, hurry up!” like it’s life or death, and you’re beaming at him with that mischievous, encouraging look.

toji sighs, shaking his head at himself. 

just great. 

the two of you have officially dragged him into your world, soundtrack and all.

toji's trying his best to lock in. 

but as he walks out of the arcade — juggling not one, but four oversized plushies, two fancy new lego sets, a slinky, a bouncy ball, some glow-in-the-dark slime, and a rainbow slap bracelet — he can’t help but snort at the sheer ridiculousness of it. 

between his loaded arms and megumi curled up fast asleep in yours, it’s a scene straight out of one of those cheesy family movies.

he shakes his head, trying to push down that weirdly warm feeling creeping up on him. 

stay focused, toji. 

he doesn't need any sappy feelings right now. he's a single dad with a kid and a job, not some washed-up rom-com character, damn it. 

but watching you gently adjust megumi as he drools onto your shoulder, snuggling deeper into the crook of your arm as you carefully slide into the backseat, it’s hard not to feel that tug again.

ugh, he thinks, climbing into the driver’s seat as you buckle up up front, giving him a soft, tired smile. 

“never held a kid before, huh?” he teases, eyes glancing from the road to the rearview mirror, where megumi’s still dozing, soft breaths muffling against your arm.

“nope,” you shrug, but there’s a softness to your voice as you gently rub megumi’s back, “first time for everything, i guess.”

toji’s heart does that weird skip thing again. 

oh god, he thinks, gripping the wheel a little tighter as he tries to ignore the sappy old man vibe overtaking him.

the air in the car feels... charged, but it’s not like either of you are exactly leaning into the tension. instead, you both sit in this weird, awkward silence, save for the quiet hum of the radio, like you’re suddenly too aware of just being there with each other.

and then, as if the universe wanted to toy with you, iris by the goo goo dolls starts playing. 

oh, god. you immediately wish you could just evaporate into the passenger seat.

“...and i’d give up forever to touch you…” the lyrics croon, filling the silence, and you can practically feel the heat crawling up your cheeks.

toji clears his throat, obviously catching it too. “radio’s on a roll, huh?”

“yep,” you say, managing a weak laugh. “i mean, this is classic… everyone listens to goo goo dolls in, uh, total silence in the car with their coworker, right?”

he glances at you, a rare, subtle smile ghosting on his lips. “totally normal.”

“and i don’t want the world to see me… ’cause i don’t think that they’d understand…”

you glance out the window, eyes focused anywhere but on him, biting back a laugh at how the song somehow keeps getting more dramatic. like, who’s writing this scene, seriously?

“just tell me where to turn,” toji says, breaking through your internal monologue, and you do, mentioning a landmark close to home, hoping he’ll take the hint.

but toji only raises an eyebrow. “near it? nah. i’m dropping you at the door.”

“oh, no, that’s really fine —” you start, but he’s already shaking his head.

“don’t worry about it,” he insists, a smirk in his voice. “besides, i remember where you live. from, you know… last time.”

wait. last time? as in… when you were embarrassingly, unapologetically wasted that night?

you want to crawl under the seat as the lyrics continue, “when everything’s made to be broken…”

so when toji pulls up in front of your apartment, there’s this odd feeling hanging in the air. you catch yourself wanting to... linger, just a little longer, even if you’re home. 

and lowkey? 

so does toji. 

it’s like the two of you have hit this weird teenage crush level of awkward — just leaning, leaning, like there’s some invisible string pulling you closer.

he’s looking at you, and you’re looking at him, and you’re both just… stuck there. you can’t even bring yourself to reach for the door handle, and it’s the same for him.

but right as the moment peaks, a tiny, innocent voice cuts through from the backseat. “are you two going to kiss?”

megumi’s question hangs there, blunt and childlike, breaking whatever spell had you both frozen. you both jolt back, blinking as if you just woke up.

“what? no!” you blurt, practically tripping over your own denial. 

your face feels like it’s about to catch fire.

toji coughs, rubbing the back of his neck, just barely suppressing a chuckle.

“kid’s got a helluva imagination,” he mutters, eyes anywhere but on you.

as you finally reach for the door handle, ready to slip out and say your goodbyes, you hear a little sniffle from the backseat.

“wait…” megumi’s voice is tiny, almost shaky. you turn around, and to your surprise, his face is scrunched up, his eyes glistening with tears that he’s trying so hard to hold back.

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, twisting around in your seat to face him. “i’ll see you again, kiddo.”

but his lower lip wobbles, and suddenly he bursts into full-on tears, clutching the giant plushie he won at the arcade. “b-but i don’t want you to leave!” he sobs, voice cracking. “can’t you stay just a little longer?”

toji’s eyes widen; he looks genuinely shocked. 

“megumi, you’re fine, she’s not going anywhere forever. what’s gotten into you?” he tries to keep his tone steady, but there’s an undercurrent of surprise. 

megumi doesn’t cry. 

ever. 

this is new territory.

megumi just shakes his head, burying his face into the plushie. “but she’s nice,” he mumbles, muffled but insistent. “and she plays games with me and —” he peeks out from the plushie with red, teary eyes. “and she talks to me like you do.”

you feel something stir in your chest at his words, this overwhelming urge to hug him even though you’d sworn up and down just an hour ago you didn’t know how to handle kids.

“aw, megumi,” you say softly, reaching over and giving his little hand a squeeze. “i’ll still see you, i promise. maybe we can even play again sometime, okay?”

“but you’re leaving now,” he says, his voice quivering, clutching your hand with a desperation that tugs at your heart. 

“and daddy didn’t even kiss you.”

the absolute silence that follows is deafening. 

you feel your face go redder than it’s ever been, and a glance at toji shows he’s equally flustered, mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find some way to steer this conversation back to normal.

“whoa, hey now,” toji says, forcing a laugh as he clears his throat. “that’s, uh — that’s not how it works, kid.” he ruffles megumi’s hair a little too hard, clearly floundering. “and hey, don’t go crying over someone just leaving for the night, you’re stronger than that.”

“i don’t care,” megumi sniffles, clutching your hand tighter. “i like her. and she makes you smile.”

toji freezes, the color draining from his face for just a split second. 

makes him smile. 

he doesn’t even realize he’s been smiling, maybe more in one day than he has in months. he glances at you, brow furrowed like he’s trying to make sense of it himself.

“well…” toji’s voice is softer now, almost cautious, like he’s testing out words he hasn’t said in a long time. “

maybe… maybe she could come around again. if she wants to, that is.”

“i do.” you answer without thinking, your gaze drifting to megumi’s tear-streaked face, which immediately lights up.

“really?” megumi’s eyes shine, practically bouncing in his seat. “you promise?”

“i promise,” you say with a smile, giving him a reassuring nod. “as long as it’s okay with you and your dad, of course.”

“’s fine,” toji grumbles, running a hand over his face to hide his slight grin. “besides, someone’s gotta teach you a lesson or two at the arcade next time.”

“is that a challenge, toji?” you quip, smirking. “because if i remember right, megumi here got more tickets than both of us combined.”

“that’s because i taught him everything he knows,” toji scoffs, rolling his eyes as if he can’t believe he’s even entertaining this.

megumi sniffles one last time, his eyes practically glowing with happiness. “then… you’ll come over soon, right?”

“absolutely,” you say, warmth bubbling up in your chest as you meet his hopeful gaze. “but only if you promise to keep practicing at the arcade. gotta keep that winning streak going, right?”

megumi grins, finally letting go of your hand as he settles back with a contented sigh. “deal.”

toji just shakes his head, muttering something about the “drama” gene clearly skipping a generation, though the smile tugging at his lips says otherwise.

as you unbuckle your seatbelt, ready to say goodbye, you feel the car click with the unmistakable sound of the child lock. you glance back at megumi, who’s nodding off against his plushie pile, and back at toji, who’s already climbing out to walk you up to your door. 

gentlemanly of him, sure. 

though, the way his eyes linger on you… there’s more to it than that.

“i could’ve walked myself, you know,” you say, falling into step beside him as you head up to your building. “it’s not that far.”

“maybe i just felt like making sure you didn’t trip and embarrass yourself,” he shoots back, smirking as he nudges your shoulder.

“very chivalrous, fushiguro,” you reply, rolling your eyes but grinning anyway. “honestly, you’re like a walking textbook definition of ‘gentleman.’”

“yeah, well,” he clears his throat, looking just a bit smug. “maybe i was raised right. or maybe,” his voice drops a little lower, “i just wanted an excuse to stick around a little longer.”

you blink, caught off guard by the soft rasp in his voice, the way his eyes are just a bit darker under the porch light.

“oh,” is all you manage, though your heartbeat’s doing a little somersault. “well… uh. here’s my door.”

“guess it is,” he murmurs, eyes glinting as he takes a step closer, leaning against the doorframe like he’s meant to be there, like he’s settled in the idea of being right here, with you. 

“y’know… not a bad place to end the night.”

“yeah,” you say, feeling the words catch in your throat as you gaze up at him, taking in every detail, every shadow. “definitely not bad.”

the two of you are just standing there, a little too close, the space between you narrowing with every unspoken word. he glances down at your lips, and your pulse spikes — he’s thinking it too, right? but just as the moment seems to reach its tipping point, toji smirks, a flash of mischief in his eyes.

“you know,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “still can’t believe you’re the same girl who wrote that… what was it again?” he chuckles, clearly remembering. “oh, right — ‘her legs wrapped around him like a vice, his name spilling from her lips like honey’.”

your face goes nuclear. 

that line. 

of all the lines, that one?

“you… you remember that?” you manage, mortified.

“’course i remember,” he says, that smug smirk firmly in place. “you think i just skimmed through your stuff?”

“well — i — ” your words are a mess, barely coherent. “i mean, i just thought —”

“nah, i’ve been reading it all.” his voice is low, almost a whisper as he leans just a little closer, his fingers lightly brushing your arm. “you’ve got quite the imagination.”

“s-shut up,” you stammer, unable to meet his gaze. “i was just… doing my job.”

“i know,” he says, voice soft but unyielding. “you’ve got talent.”

there’s a beat, silence stretching between you, the weight of his words settling over the both of you.

“...and you’ve got this whole heartthrob thing going for you,” you blurt out, finally meeting his eyes with a nervous laugh. “kind of makes it hard to believe you’re my colleague.”

“heartthrob, huh?” he smirks, voice dipping lower as his fingers drift to your chin, tilting your face up. 

“so that’s what you think of me?”

“i — i mean…” you stammer, your heart racing as you look into his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn. “maybe a little. just… a tiny bit.”

“tiny?” he murmurs, his lips barely an inch away. “could’ve sworn you looked a little more than just ‘tiny’ interested.”

“oh yeah?” your voice is a whisper now, almost breathless as you feel his breath on your skin, his gaze never wavering. “what if i was?”

“then i’d probably do this,” he mutters, his hand sliding up to cradle your face, and before you know it, his lips are on yours, soft and warm and impossibly gentle.

your breath catches, and instinctively, you lean into him, letting his kiss deepen, his hand tracing slow, lazy patterns against your cheek. it’s everything you’d imagined and somehow even better, his presence grounding and electric all at once.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes soft but searching. “so… do i still get to be a heartthrob?”

“only if i still get to be the girl with the cringe smut,” you murmur back, grinning like an idiot.

“deal,” he says, chuckling as he pulls you in for another kiss, his lips brushing yours like a promise.

ah, shit.

as toji slips back into the car, he barely manages to close the door before megumi’s voice hits him like a lightning bolt.

“daddy kissed the pretty lady!” megumi shrieks, pointing an accusatory finger from the backseat. “i saw it! you have that weird face on!”

toji’s eyebrows shoot up. “weird face? what weird face?” he tries to play it cool, adjusting the rearview mirror, but the ghost of that kiss is still painted on his lips, his pulse betraying him with every beat.

“that smile,” megumi says, wrinkling his nose in a perfect mirror of his dad’s usual expression of disdain. “you look like a… like a…” he pauses, searching for the right words. “...like a love puppy!”

toji chokes, stifling a laugh. “a love puppy? where the hell did you get that from?”

“it’s a thing, daddy,” megumi huffs, crossing his arms. “you have that goofy look, and your face is all soft. you only look like that when you’re being weird.”

“me? weird?” toji glances in the mirror, catching megumi’s glare. “kid, i think you’ve got this all wrong.”

“no, i don’t!” megumi insists, practically bouncing in his seat. “you were all ‘goo-goo eyes’ and ‘smoochy-smoochy’ and ‘mwah mwah mwah!’” he makes exaggerated kissing sounds, complete with squished-up lips and hand gestures, utterly scandalized by his dad’s sudden transformation.

“alright, alright, enough with the ‘mwah mwah.’” toji tries to suppress a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “you’ve been watching too many cartoons.”

megumi shakes his head, his expression serious. “nope. i knew it. i knew you liked her.” he narrows his eyes, as if seeing through toji’s very soul. “so… are you gonna marry her?”

toji’s eyes go wide. 

“whoa, whoa, hold on. nobody said anything about marriage.”

“but if you kiss someone, that means you wanna be with them forever, right?” megumi asks earnestly, looking way too wise for his age.

toji stares ahead, caught off-guard by the kid’s earnestness. 

that kiss… he didn’t plan it. he didn’t even know he was going to do it until he’d leaned in, felt the spark pull him closer. but now? 

yeah, the idea of just walking away feels… wrong. he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his mind racing.

“kid, sometimes people just… feel things, okay?” he says, his voice softer, more introspective. “even if they don’t really know why.”

megumi tilts his head, watching his dad closely. “so you do like her, then?”

toji snorts, pulling the car out onto the road. “alright, detective, settle down back there. no more snooping.”

they drive in a comfortable silence for a moment, but the radio has other plans. 

as if on cue, the familiar, aching chords of iris by the goo goo dolls come through the speakers, and toji swears he could feel the universe laughing at him.

“and i don’t want the world to see me, ’cause i don’t think that they’d understand…”

toji clenches his jaw, feeling the lyrics press into him, each line stirring something restless and warm in his chest. he’s always been a guy with his walls up, always knew the stakes were too high to let anyone in. 

but tonight… tonight, he let his guard down. just for a second. 

he kissed you, tasted the softness of your lips, and the spark left him reeling.

“when everything’s meant to be broken, i just want you to know who i am…”

“daddy?” megumi’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “do you think… maybe you could see her again? so she could come play with us?”

toji blinks, glancing at megumi in the rearview mirror. “you really like her, huh?”

megumi nods vigorously. “yeah! she’s… nice. and fun.” his face softens. “and… she made you look happy.”

toji’s heart gives a strange, unfamiliar twist at that. 

happy, huh? 

he’s been around the block long enough to know that happiness isn’t exactly his best friend. but sitting here, listening to megumi, feeling that residual warmth from your kiss… it makes him wonder. 

wonder what life could look like with you in it.

but he pushes the thought away, focusing on the road. doesn’t change the fact that you’re just his colleague. right?

“and i’d give up forever to touch you…”

ugh.

he shifts uncomfortably, hoping megumi doesn’t notice his knuckles going white on the steering wheel. 

that kiss wasn’t just some fleeting thing — he’d known it the second he felt the warmth of you linger even after pulling away. the idea of letting you go now feels… impossible. something’s tugging him back, making him want more.

“hey, daddy,” megumi pipes up again, breaking toji’s brooding. “you got that look again.”

“what look?” toji mutters, trying to focus on anything but the goofy grin creeping back onto his face.

megumi smirks, mimicking toji’s soft expression. “that ‘i kissed a pretty lady’ look!”

toji laughs, shaking his head as he glances at megumi in the rearview mirror. “alright, alright. i guess you caught me.”

and as he drives home, the final notes of iris playing softly through the car, he can’t shake the feeling that this… whatever this is… isn’t something he’s ready to let go of.

ah, shit.

as soon as toji sets megumi down on his bed, tucking him in amongst the mountain of ridiculous plushies he’d somehow won at the arcade, he heads back to his room. sliding his phone out, he finds himself doing something he never thought he’d do: texting gojo. of all people.

with a reluctant sigh, he taps out a message, feeling a pang of embarrassment he can’t shake.

you [8:47 pm]: how long’s her contract with gojo sonic?

a moment later, he watches the screen, regretting even reaching out. but, of course, gojo wastes no time with a reply.

gojo s. [8:50 pm]: ohohohohooooo her contract???  gojo s. [8:50 pm]: i knew it. you’re smitten. you [8:51 pm]: don’t start. gojo s. [8:51 pm]: too late! c’mon, dish it out, big guy.  gojo s. [8:51 pm]: you guys had a moment, huh? the chemistry finally snapped? what’d ya do, kiss her?

toji clenches his jaw, hesitating before typing back. his thumb hovers, wondering how much grief he’d get for saying yes. finally, he mutters a curse under his breath and just goes for it.

you [8:53 pm]: ...yeah, i kissed her. happy?

he can practically feel gojo’s cackle vibrating through the phone.

gojo s. [8:53 pm]: WHAT???  gojo s. [8:53 pm]: WAIT.  gojo s. [8:53 pm]: oh, i need details.  gojo s. [8:53 pm]: full play-by-play.  gojo s. [8:53 pm]: like was it one of those slow, cinematic moments?  gojo s. [8:54 pm]: or was it a grab and smooch kinda deal??

toji rolls his eyes, fighting off a grin he refuses to admit is there. of all the reactions, he’d been prepared for gojo’s nosiness, but it’s still as annoying as ever.

you [8:55 pm]: shut it. i already said too much. gojo s. [8:55 pm]: pfffff as if i’m letting you get away with that tidbit and no context.  gojo s. [8:55 pm]: did she look at you all wide-eyed?  gojo s. [8:55 pm]: did you do that thing with your voice??  gojo s. [8:56 pm]: or was it just an accidental, “oh no, we tripped into each other’s faces” sorta thing?

toji rubs his temples, trying to block out how much his stupid heart rate picks up just remembering the way you looked up at him, the softness of your lips, the way it all felt so natural. he shakes his head, forcing the memory aside.

you [8:57 pm]: none of your business, and it’s private.  you [8:57 pm]: don’t you dare send any of this to suguru. gojo s. [8:57 pm]: oh relax! suguru’s not that nosy.  gojo s. [8:57 pm]: okay maybe he is.  gojo s. [8:58 pm]: but he’s a romantic.  gojo s. [8:58 pm]: think of it as getting free relationship coaching!! you [9:00 pm]: i swear to god satoru i’ll leave the company if you spill this.

there’s a pause, and for a second toji hopes that maybe he’s scared gojo off. 

but, predictably, the next message makes his blood pressure spike.

gojo s. [9:05 pm]: ohhhhh no no you’re not getting off that easy.  gojo s. [9:05 pm]: i’m calling dibs on being the flower girl at your wedding. suguru can be the maid of honor.  gojo s. [9:06 pm]: no nvm he’d wanna be the best man gojo s. [9:06 pm]: I’LL GET MEGUMI TO CARRY THE RINGS gojo s. [9:06 pm]: genius.

toji practically growls at his phone, already regretting every second of this conversation.

you [9:07 pm]: i’ll delete this whole damn thread. this never happened, got it? gojo s. [9:09 pm]: aww, toji bear, don’t be like that. i’ll take care of your little love story for you, promise. consider me your personal wingman.  gojo s. [9:10 pm]: now tell me this — when’s round two of smooch central happening? you [9:11 pm]: goodnight, satoru.

and with that, he shoves his phone onto his nightstand, rubbing his face with a hand. he can still feel the lingering warmth of that kiss, the way his heart skipped, the unexpected tenderness that’s lodged itself in his mind. 

stupid.

he shouldn’t have even told gojo.

but as much as he regrets letting it slip, he doesn’t regret the kiss itself. 

not even a bit.

as soon as you slam your door shut, you just… stand there for a minute, heart racing, and press your fingers to your lips like it’ll somehow reverse what just happened. 

you kissed toji fushiguro. 

the toji fushiguro.

colleague extraordinaire, with biceps that could probably benchpress your entire life’s savings, and that smirk… oh god, that smirk that had you in a daze.

but the problem? 

there was a mini him there. 

a little him with matching black hair and a sharp gaze. 

you thought he was, like, the cool uncle? but… he’s a dad? 

and if he’s a dad… does that mean he’s married? are you the other woman?!

you pace around, practically stomping into the carpet. 

“okay, okay, let’s think this through,” you mutter, putting your hands on your hips. 

“he… he could be a single dad, right? it’s 2024, it’s not that weird for people to have kids without, like, commitment commitments. but then again, he does look like the type who’d… i don’t know, maybe be exclusive? probably?”

your brain is racing, and you’re spinning yourself into circles. 

“i mean, i haven’t seen a ring on his finger… but maybe he just doesn’t wear it?” you plop down on your couch, practically sinking into it as you cover your face with both hands.

ugh.

“did i just kiss a married man? or worse… what if he’s, like, engaged? or has a live-in girlfriend? or — oh my god, what if he’s in some high-profile relationship and i just stepped into the middle of it? —”

you groan, flopping back. “but he… he definitely leaned in first. i’m not hallucinating. he did! but then, if he’s that willing to kiss me, does that mean he’s… a cheater?”

you sit up and shake your head, wide-eyed. “okay, no, i refuse to believe that toji fushiguro, mr. brooding and brooding-er with a kid who listens to korn, is a cheater. there’s no way… right?”

your own voice is almost pleading as you try to convince yourself, pacing again. 

“i mean, maybe he’s just… really, really committed to… being mysterious. yeah, that makes sense. he’s keeping everything a secret, so that just leaves me spiraling about him… perfect. just perfect.”

you smack a hand against your forehead. “why couldn’t i have asked literally any of this earlier?” you shake your head. “right, because i was too busy kissing him.”

you throw yourself back onto the couch and stare at the ceiling, the whole thing replaying in your head. 

that look he gave you, the warmth of his hand on your back…

stop.

but it’s too late. your brain keeps running with it.

“what if… what if he has no idea i’m freaking out?” you frown. “oh, he probably doesn’t. and here i am, making a whole drama out of one kiss.” you let out a deep sigh.

you flop onto your bed, heart still pounding, and stare up at the ceiling, fingers absently grazing your lips. 

burning loins, they said. melting from one kiss, they said. 

well, no one exactly said that — except every steamy novel you’ve ever read or written, but that’s beside the point.

you groan, kicking your feet up in frustration. this isn’t one of your own novels! it’s supposed to be real life! but now here you are, in the aftermath of what was arguably the best kiss you’ve ever had, practically combusting at the memory of it.

“if one kiss with toji — no, any man — can get me this hot and bothered, how am i supposed to handle it if i ever… you know…” your voice trails off, and you turn over, burying your face into the pillow as if it’ll smother the absurd train of thought. 

but then, just as you start to get your mind off it, his face pops back up in your head.

“oh god,” you mumble, pulling the pillow over your face. “this is pathetic.” you roll over again, laughing helplessly to yourself. 

if this is what one or two kisses do to me… what’ll happen if we actually have sex?

your eyes snap open. “okay, no. no! i didn’t mean toji, i meant, like… any guy! any guy at all! but, oh god, why is it always him?!”

you stare at the ceiling, huffing as your brain keeps looping back to him. 

his stupidly attractive smirk, the way his hand was firm but gentle on your back, how he looked at you as if you were his next breath. 

girl, get a grip.

“this is ridiculous,” you mutter, swatting at your face like it’ll erase his image from your mind. but it doesn’t work; he’s right there, all hot and smug in your imagination. ugh, this isn’t fair!

it’s like all those countless hours you spent spinning erotic fantasies are coming back to haunt you — and in the most inconvenient, infuriating way possible. you scrunch up your face, realizing with mild horror that maybe… just maybe… you wrote this scenario into existence for yourself.

“oh no… is this karma?” you groan, curling up and swatting the air in helpless embarrassment. “girl, this is not supposed to happen in real life. or with toji.”

but there it is: his face, and your wildly racing heart, and the undeniable, excruciating heat pooling in your belly that refuses to quit.

but even with the spiraling, there’s one thing you can’t deny: as much as it’s driving you crazy, as much as you’re practically scaring yourself into thinking you’ve just made the worst mistake of your life…

you kinda don’t regret it. and that’s the scariest part.

ah, shit.

you step into gojo-sonic, clutching your bag with a little more intensity than usual, and it’s as if you’ve entered an alternate dimension. 

the energy is somehow… different. you expect to be greeted with the usual casual nods and waves, but instead, gojo is practically skipping toward you, arms spread wide like he’s welcoming the new queen of the recording studio.

“there she is! our star of the show, our resident heart-throb wrangler!” he coos, louder than necessary. his grin is blinding, and you’re caught between the urge to backpedal out of the building or dive under the nearest desk.

“uh… good morning?” you reply, more like a question than a statement, glancing around to see if anyone else is picking up on his hyperness. it’s like he’s had twelve cups of coffee or ten bags of skittles. “gojo, you’re… kind of extra today.”

“extra? extra?” he throws a hand over his heart, eyes gleaming. “honey, i’m never just ‘extra.’ i am exactly the right amount of gojo for the occasion.”

“and what occasion is that, exactly?”

“oh, nothing much, just a certain someone having an… enlightening encounter last night,” he says with a wink so exaggerated it looks like he’s trying to shoo a bug off his face.

you stiffen. “wait, how do you…?”

“oh, come on,” he waves it off, laughing. “you think you can keep something like that from me? i mean, i might be blessed with an enormous amount of talent, looks, and charisma, but i also happen to have eyes and ears everywhere.” he taps his temple, looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

“seriously?” you glance around, your stomach sinking a little, looking for any sign of smirking coworkers or curious eyes, but everyone’s just… normal? going about their business, not sparing you a second glance. relief washes over you, only to be swept away by gojo’s piercing stare.

“oh, don’t worry. i haven’t shared your scandalous rendezvous with the world. only i am privy to this delightful information — for now,” he adds, wagging a finger. “and don’t look so shocked! nothing juicy stays hidden from me for long. i know all the company secrets.”

you feel heat rise to your cheeks, equal parts exasperated and embarrassed. “gojo, it wasn’t even that big of a deal. it’s not like…” you trail off, realizing he’s hanging on to your every word, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“uh-huh,” he drawls, drawing the word out. “not a big deal, you say? then why do you look like you’re about to start sweating bullets?”

“i’m not sweating bullets,” you say through clenched teeth, then give in and sigh. “look, we just… it was just a… i mean, we’re colleagues, and things got a little… friendly. it doesn’t have to mean anything!”

gojo gasps, mock-horrified. “oh, but darling, this is precisely why it’s so interesting! you, of all people, getting caught up with toji fushiguro? and here i thought you’d sworn off office romances.”

“it’s not an office romance,” you insist, voice practically a whisper. “we just… kissed. once. or twice. maybe. but it doesn’t mean anything!”

gojo leans in, conspiratorially. “and yet you look ready to combust from the inside out just talking about it.”

you huff, throwing him a half-hearted glare. “maybe it’s because someone is making this into a bigger deal than it actually is.”

“you wound me!” he presses a hand dramatically to his chest, giving you an exaggerated pout. “but don’t worry, your little secret is safe with me. i only told you so you’d know that i know. and, you know, to make things extra awkward in case mr. heart-throb walks in.”

“oh, so you’re really just out to make my life difficult?”

he grins, all teeth. “precisely.”

just then, as if summoned by some cruel twist of fate, toji strolls in. he’s the absolute picture of normalcy, no hint whatsoever of last night’s… moment. 

in fact, he gives you a polite nod, a polite nod, as if he hadn’t had you pressed against your own door just hours ago.

“morning,” he says casually, voice smooth, tone nonchalant. he doesn’t even so much as smirk.

you nearly choke. polite nod? normal greeting? did he forget the entire thing? 

“oh, morning,” you manage, clearing your throat, feeling like you’re about to combust again.

gojo, however, is having the time of his life. he’s practically vibrating next to you, watching the exchange with glee.

“morninggg, fushiguro,” he greets toji, voice syrupy with unrestrained glee. “any exciting news today?”

toji raises an eyebrow, shooting him a confused look. “uh, no? everything’s pretty normal.” his eyes flick over to you, calm, almost neutral, as if he hadn’t kissed you senseless just last night.

you clench your jaw. is he really going to act like this? you nearly feel like gaslighting yourself into thinking last night never happened. maybe you just dreamed it, right?

toji’s gaze flicks away from you, unperturbed, as he moves over to get his things ready for the day’s recording. and that’s when gojo leans over and mutters under his breath, “you sure you don’t want to just… remind him?”

“i hate you,” you mutter back, trying not to smile, knowing that he’s secretly rooting for you to fall flat on your face with this whole ordeal.

“i live for your misery, my friend,” he replies with a wink.

meanwhile, toji was absolutely in another dimension of romcom chaos himself, feeling like some kind of high school kid who just had his first crush. he woke up grinning, actually giggling as he got dressed. 

giggling. when was the last time he did that? 

he nearly skipped out the door, and on his drive to work, he found himself humming, humming, to his car stereo like some lovestruck fool. and he didn’t stop there. oh no. 

by the time he reached gojo-sonic, he’d already run through a few extra vocal warm-ups in the car — something he never did this early. he cleared his throat and ran through his usual lines twice, even testing his pitch a bit. no, not because he wanted to be extra smooth today, of course not. he was doing it for the… for the paycheck. 

definitely.

but as soon as he walked into the studio, and he saw you standing there beside gojo, looking all kinds of pretty and polished… he practically heard violins. except no, it wasn’t violins. 

it was, somehow, worse.

his mind cued up dancing queen.

“no. nope. nope.” he muttered under his breath, trying to swat the ridiculous soundtrack out of his mind. but it wouldn’t stop. 

“dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine, oh, yeah….”

why, in the name of all things sacred, was his brain doing this to him? he was toji fushiguro, not some idiot falling over his own feet for a girl at work. he gave himself a good shake, squared his shoulders, and tried to keep his composure. yet every time he caught your eye, his chest did a little flip — and dammit if he didn’t want to just pick you up and give you another kiss right then and there.

“morning,” he forced out, nodding as casually as he could.

and there you were, gaping back with that hint of nervousness, looking like you might combust from just a regular “good morning.” 

god, it was almost cute enough to make him actually laugh out loud.

“she’s just a colleague,” he reminded himself, over and over again, as he worked to keep the grin off his face. “a colleague. not some romcom lead you just made out with in front of her apartment.”

yet the way dancing queen kept droning in his head, as if mocking his every move? toji was seriously questioning whether he’d woken up in some kind of alternate reality.

and he just knew gojo was watching the whole thing with a smug look, likely dying to crack a joke, or worse, belt out dancing queen if he somehow figured out what was in toji’s head. 

and knowing gojo? he probably already had.

the studio door clicked shut as gojo swept out with an exaggerated bow, holding up his finger in a silent “one minute” before he launched into his call with suguru in a voice loud enough to be heard two floors down. gojo was probably already going on about the “incredible chemistry” between his favorite team members, or whatever nonsense he’d decided on for today. 

and with him out of the room, it was just you and toji. 

alone. 

in silence.

you shifted on your feet, eyes darting everywhere except directly at him, yet somehow landing right back on him. it was like your brain had a toji magnet switched on, and no matter how hard you tried to look elsewhere, you found yourself glancing back at him.

finally, the quiet got so charged that you both ended up blurting out at the exact same time —

“are you single?”

you both froze, then looked at each other, wide-eyed, like you couldn’t believe you’d just asked that out loud.

“uh,” toji coughed, scratching the back of his neck. “well. yeah, i am. single, that is.

“oh.” you tried to act cool, but it came out as a slightly breathless squeak. “good to know.”

“and you?” he asked, voice low, almost cautious, as if bracing himself for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

“also single,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “which… is also good to know.”

there was a beat of quiet where you both just kind of looked at each other, a half-smile creeping onto his face as you kept shifting on your feet, practically melting under the intensity of his gaze.

“so…” you cleared your throat, your hands fidgeting a little as you gathered the nerve to ask the next thing. “didn’t know you had a kid.”

“oh, yeah.” toji chuckled, a hint of fondness lighting up his expression as he thought of his son. “he’s my kid, alright. handful and a half, that one.”

“he’s adorable.” you smiled, thinking back to the mini toji who had totally stolen your heart. “how old is he?”

“eight.” toji’s voice softened, a rare warmth in his tone that you’d never heard before. “he, uh… he means a lot to me. not that i’d ever tell him that, though. don’t want him thinking he’s got me wrapped around his little finger or anything.”

you laughed, picturing the little boy with his big grin and fearless energy. “something tells me he already knows.”

“yeah, probably.” toji laughed too, and for a moment, there was an ease between you, a shared warmth that made the whole moment feel so… natural.

“so… um, are you, like… a single dad?” you asked, careful with your words, not wanting to pry too deeply.

“yeah.” his answer was simple, but there was a weight to it. “just me and the kid. been that way for a while.”

“that’s…” you bit your lip, not sure what to say without sounding weirdly sentimental. “that’s admirable. megumi’s lucky to have you.

“i don’t know about all that,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the praise but unable to hide a small smile. “just doing what i can, you know?”

“still,” you said, feeling a swell of admiration you hadn’t expected. “it’s impressive. and honestly… seeing you with him yesterday? it was… kinda heartwarming.”

toji looked at you, eyes softening in a way that made your heart stutter. 

“thanks,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “means a lot, hearing that.”

the two of you stood there, closer than you realized, in this weird bubble where everything felt warm and intense and perfect. just as you felt that strange magnetic pull drawing you closer, like maybe you’d just close the gap and —

the studio door banged open.

“don’t stop on my account!” gojo sing-songed, practically sashaying back into the room, a smirk plastered across his face.

you both leaped back, clearing your throats and suddenly finding the walls, the floor, anything else in the room utterly fascinating.

“alright, lovebirds, let’s get this recording started, shall we?” gojo grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked between the two of you, not even pretending he hadn’t just caught a whole moment.

toji settled into the recording booth, leaning back in the chair with the script in hand, his voice dipping to that low, gravelly tone that made every line sound like an invitation.

“so,” he began, speaking as the dragon king to the main character in the script, his words practically dripping with intensity, “you think you can resist me? i see right through you… even the bravest warriors have trembled at my touch.”

your breath caught as he delivered the line, eyes wide as you watched him through the glass. 

you couldn’t help it — his character was practically staring into your soul, voice thick and slow, practically wrapping around each word.

“do you know what happens to those who challenge me?” toji continued, his eyes narrowing as he held the script in one hand, his gaze piercing. “they are forced to surrender… one way or another.”

outside the booth, you practically felt yourself melting, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you fidgeted with the edge of your shirt. 

toji’s voice, his delivery — it was all too much. how was it possible for him to sound that… that intense? it was like he was actually speaking to you.

“ah, beautiful.” gojo, standing beside you, broke in with a theatrical sigh. “our dragon king sounds magnificent, doesn’t he? i could practically faint!”

you shot him a quick glare, barely masking a smirk. “keep it down, gojo. he’s in the middle of it.”

“oh, i’m just here to appreciate the artistry,” gojo whispered back, feigning innocence as he leaned in to watch, hands clasped together dramatically.

“the choice is yours,” toji went on, his voice softer now, laced with something tender that made it impossible to look away. “join me… or keep pretending this —” he emphasized the word, letting it linger “ — isn’t exactly what you’ve been wanting.”

you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze even through the glass. 

was he delivering that line as the dragon king or as… well, toji?

but then —

“ohhhh!” gojo chimed in loudly, clutching his chest as if he’d been struck by an arrow. “the passion! the romance! our hero’s heart is pounding!”

toji paused, rolling his eyes as he looked at gojo through the glass. “you really gonna keep interrupting, gojo?”

“oh, don’t mind me,” gojo said, waving a hand. “i’m simply enjoying the magic in the air! please, carry on. do go on.” he pretended to dab at his eyes. “so moving.”

toji gave a small sigh but threw you a barely-there smile before settling back into character.

“and when you finally stop running…” his voice softened, a quiet urgency threading through it. 

“i’ll be here, waiting… because you belong to me, whether you admit it or not.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you found yourself leaning in, hanging onto every word, caught up in the sheer pull of his voice. 

you didn’t know if it was his talent as a voice actor, the lines he was reading, or him, but every word was drawing you in deeper, bit by bit.

“ah, what is it like to be so passionately claimed by a dragon king? how riveting!” gojo murmured dramatically, as if providing a play-by-play to an audience. “she’s helpless, entranced! they both know she’s falling!”

toji cast a pointed look at gojo, barely concealing a smirk. “you done yet, gojo?”

gojo merely grinned, shrugging. “hey, i’m just here to make sure the romance shines through. and oh, don’t worry — it’s definitely shining.”

toji rolled his eyes but kept going, lowering his voice to a rumbling murmur. “if you don’t know where your heart lies, then i’ll show you.” 

he paused, his words lingering in the air like a promise, like he was speaking directly to you.

by now, the studio felt suffused with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. it didn’t help that every time gojo piped in with another comment, it only made you feel more painfully aware of every detail: the way toji’s gaze kept flickering your way, the way your own pulse raced faster with each line he spoke.

“the truth is right in front of you,” toji continued, his voice dropping low, rough, something smoldering behind each word. “all you have to do is reach out… and claim it.”

“gorgeous! breathtaking!” gojo burst out, clapping his hands loudly. “i can practically see the sparks flying! ah, young love!”

toji finally broke character, raising a brow at gojo with a look of pure exasperation. “you gonna let me finish or not?”

gojo waved a hand. “fine, fine. but for real — if you two don’t kiss after this, i might have to stage a re-shoot.”

both you and toji threw your hands up simultaneously, voices raised in exasperation. 

“gojo, would you please stop interrupting!”

“yeah, seriously, man,” toji added, shaking his head as he glanced over at you with a shared look of pure frustration.

“okay, okay! sheesh!” gojo shrieked, actually shrieked, as he staggered back in mock terror, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “all i wanted was to witness some workplace romance! is that so wrong?”

“yes, gojo, very wrong,” you shot back, rubbing your temples. “this is literally supposed to be professional — you should know that.”

toji snorted, crossing his arms as he smirked at gojo. “for once, i agree. you’ve got all the dramatic flair of a middle-schooler.”

“excuse me,” gojo replied, flipping an imaginary hair strand over his shoulder. “i’ll have you know my artistic eye is very advanced.” he let out a huff, but from the grin on his face, you could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

you shook your head, exasperated. “look, can we just get this recording done without any more —”

“interruptions,” toji finished for you, raising a brow as he glanced over at gojo.

“fine, fine!” gojo finally backed off, dramatically sliding into a chair in the corner, arms folded in mock offense. “i’ll be silent as a stone. a beautiful, thoughtful stone.”

you exchanged another look with toji, both of you sighing in unison. 

something told you both that it was going to be a very long day, especially with gojo’s creative direction…

toji, after finishing a solid block of recording, had ended up chatting with the sound techs, leaving you flipping through your phone while you waited. 

gojo, in his usual meddling fashion, suddenly brightened up and declared, “oh! why don’t you have a little chat with suguru? i told him you were here. he insisted on saying hello!”

you raised an eyebrow. “uh, sure?”

gojo sent you a link to join the video call, and soon suguru’s face popped up on the screen. his calm expression softened slightly when he saw you. “well, hello there. gojo wasn’t exaggerating when he said he had a new ‘star’ at the studio.”

you laughed, feeling a bit flustered. “thanks, geto! i hear you’re a partner at a... famous wine company?”

suguru gave a modest shrug. “yeah, it’s called persephone. it’s a small project that grew bigger than i expected. i handle a lot of the sourcing and marketing — keeps me away from here most of the time.”

“persephone? i’ve heard great things about it!” you said, genuinely impressed. “the way gojo talks about it, it sounds like a pretty big deal.”

he chuckled, glancing to the side as if recalling memories. “i started it with a... friend, actually. she was passionate about wine and had a vision that i couldn’t help but support. i guess i have a soft spot for her, and i... well, care about her a lot.”

you felt your heart warm a little at his sincerity, and the slight hesitation when he spoke of his partner. “it sounds like you two have something special going on,” you said, offering a supportive smile. “i’m sure she appreciates everything you do, especially with how involved you are. and honestly? best of luck. that kind of partnership sounds really meaningful.”

suguru gave a small nod, a faint, appreciative smile on his face. 

“thank you. i think she’d like you. maybe one day, if you ever make it out here for one of gojo’s wild wine-tasting parties, we can all meet up.”

“i’d love that!” you replied, already imagining how intriguing that partnership might be. and as you finished up the conversation, it struck you that you’d gotten a glimpse of a different side of suguru — one he clearly didn’t reveal often.

toji hadn’t meant to get distracted, but the second he saw you on a video call with suguru, laughing over whatever he was saying, he couldn’t help it. he’d been halfway listening to the sound tech drone on about waveform patterns, but all of that faded when he caught sight of you smiling on-screen. 

who exactly were you talking to like that? why did you look so happy?

the tech was still talking beside him, but toji’s focus was elsewhere. 

suguru. 

that damn calm, collected face of his. 

the same suguru who he’d seen only sparingly around the company, mostly through gojo’s random updates, but who was still one of the few people gojo actually respected.

toji squinted, his jaw tightening as he took a few steps toward you and pretended it was a casual stroll.

why was he doing this? it wasn’t like he had any claim on you, right? 

sure, there was that one kiss — or, well, those two kisses, actually. 

but still. 

he was a grown man, not some jealous kid. yet here he was, feeling like he had to size up suguru over a damn screen.

before he even realized it, toji had closed the distance. without asking, he leaned over your shoulder, practically shoving his face into the camera view as he met suguru’s face.

“hey, suguru,” he drawled, and the way his voice came out a little gruff didn’t escape him. “didn’t know you were interrupting a busy studio day here.”

you blinked, wide-eyed at his sudden closeness, but toji kept his eyes on suguru, ignoring your flustered reaction. suguru looked almost amused, raising an eyebrow at toji’s unannounced intrusion.

“toji. i’m just saying hi to the new talent here,” suguru replied with a smooth smile, clearly unfazed. “i’m sure you wouldn’t mind me meeting one of satoru’s top finds.”

“top find?” toji scoffed, feeling a weird pang at the words. “i’m the one doing all the work here.”

you shot him a look, somewhere between surprised and amused. “toji —”

but he just grunted and kept going, ignoring your attempt to intervene. “so, suguru, been busy with all that wine business, huh?” he went on, as if suguru’s whole life story had suddenly become his priority.

“pretty much,” suguru replied, a slight smirk in his tone. “it’s been keeping me busy, and i have a…close partner who keeps me grounded. speaking of which,” he turned his gaze to you with an amused smile, “she was the one who started persephone. i’m really just there to support her vision.”

“sounds convenient,” toji muttered, but suguru just chuckled.

you nudged him with your elbow, giving him a warning look. “toji, come on,” you whispered, as if he was the one being out of line here.

he let out a low sigh, then pulled back slightly, looking at you as if he’d just remembered himself. “what? ’m just makin’ sure you’re not getting dragged into any fancy wine scams or whatever.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide a smile. “geto’s company is doing fine, toji. it’s called persephone.”

toji folded his arms and gave a dismissive shrug. “well, just saying. i know people.” 

the whole room seemed to go a bit quieter, and toji cleared his throat, looking away from suguru's patient amusement.

“nice meeting you, toji,” suguru added, with a slight tilt of his head. “take care of our new ‘top find’ there, alright?”

toji clenched his jaw a little at the words, then nodded, pretending he wasn’t glaring at the camera. “yeah, yeah. we’re all set here.”

as the call ended, you turned to him, eyebrows raised, clearly wanting an explanation. “what was that about?”

toji scratched the back of his neck, trying to look casual. “just, y’know…making sure you weren’t getting yourself in with shady people.”

“oh? like, you?”

he let out a bark of laughter, realizing he’d backed himself into a corner. “hey, i’m not shady — i’m just thorough.”

you raised an eyebrow. “thorough? right, that’s the word you’re going with?”

“yeah. and what — you mad at me for caring?”

at that, you went quiet, a faint blush touching your cheeks. 

and toji? well, he could only think of those two kisses again, and how stupidly close he’d just gotten to the camera just to… what? size up suguru? 

he mentally groaned. what was wrong with him?

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[variousqueerthings]

i do think that specifically david tennant being very openly supportive of the trans community has had an interesting effect -- because usually im kinda like "it is nice to know that people whose work i enjoy don't want me dead" and that's kinda my level of (at this point) quite cynical engagement with what a celebrity or artist does or does not think about transness, because these days it feels like it's almost fashionable for well-known (or post-well-known) people to come out of the wordwork and say what they think about trans people, which can get very stressful in its own way (the amount of headlines that try to be misleading or just plain don't say and so you're just like "ok i guess this week i have to find out if [spins wheel] thinks i deserve rights")

but david tennant has a different feeling to it. and to be fair, there are plenty of people with skin in the game, who absolutely deserve to and ought to speak out on behalf of their children/partners/community/friends/family/etc. and im always happy to see these people speak, and dt is included in that list as well

but david tennant is veeery specific in this here country of terf island, in which the labour party will openly state that it will allow certain book writers to affect their policies on trans people, and that's partly because of the effect above in which "having opinions on trans rights seems to be a celebrity game that keeps you relevant, which includes ex prime minister tony blair making his opinion known (hint, it wasn't a good one)" but also because david tennant is known as a national icon to rival that of whatsherface

he was the main actor on doctor who, in the top three, if not very top of british broadcasting iconography that exists. he's one of this generation's most famous shakespearian actors, the other thing that this country-as-culture is most proud of. he's a mainstay in children's film and tv, a standout in modern british crime drama (broadchurch, des), and that's not mentioning things like jessica jones, good omens, and star wars

this guy has no social media, and some of the biggest cultural capital in the uk today -- labour i believe it was made a twitter joke about him ousting the current prime minister as the doctor ahead of this week's election, because that's an iconic scene from doctor who

which means that when he openly calls transphobes whingy and asks them to shut up, there's a bit of a ripple... i mean what are you gonna do, get angry with the doctor? from doctor who??? the man who played a definitive hamlet????? the man who's just done rave reviewed performances of macbeth???? scrooge mcduck????????? this man who occasionally guests on cbeebies???????????

said prime minister and his party and hosts of transphobes go absolutely crazy every time he makes an appearance wearing new trans ally apparel, as if a. he sees any of that and b. it's a dignified response to a man saying, in essence, "i would like my kid to be safe and happy"

david tennant constantly making these statements, again and again, is a powerful voice in the modern fight for trans rights in the UK, in some ways unfortunately, because you wish trans people could have been heard before it got to this state and that it wasn't about being famous, but to be fair, he's also making that point again and again

it kind of feels like the first time in a long time that there's been proper pushback against transphobia in this country from a perspective that the transphobes can't dismiss so easily -- they can try but like. again, one side is a bunch of raving nonsense-spouters on a joke website who mostly belong to a party that's about to get decidedly ousted from the political scene, the other is beloved national icon and star of stage and screen, mr david tennant

of course, it doesn't hurt that the three main actors of harry potter and everyone else who's majorly involved in doctor who, past and present, is also supportive of trans rights, which maybe there's a separate point to be made about the strangeness of a mainstream tv show becoming a cultural battleground for peoples opinions on equal rights, especially now with ncuti gatwa at the helm, because i think some of what ive seen in relation to dw is more extreme than any piece of cultural media ive been alive to witness bigoted reactions to (including star trek), and ncuti gatwa as a black queer man is taking a hell of a lot of flack that is racist and homophobic

but labour... if you're inviting random artists to give you opinions on trans rights, david tennant is right there, and you know he'd make sure to bring along trans rights activists and professionals to get the space in the room they ought to have had all along

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Fashion/Style

wow day 15! @youngroyals-events tack! <3

AU. Crown Prince Wilhelm finally meets his favorite artist, Simon Eriksson, at the Met Gala.

read below or on ao3. (T, 1.4k)

Wille took a moment to steel himself, inhaling one long, deep breath, before he’d have to face the inevitable. He could already hear the shouts, the camera clicks, and none of those were even for him yet. It wasn’t often he found himself surrounded by this many other famous people, especially not of this caliber, so he was a bit nervous. 

It was his own fault, really, that he’d found himself sitting in a black town car, in a stuffy suit, waiting to enter the most notorious fashion event of the year. But, with all of his duties as Crown Prince of Sweden, all of the handshakes and baby-kissing and ribbon cutting, he’d needed to carve something out that was his own. While he adored helping people and finding those tiny moments of joy in an otherwise suffocating role, Wille craved something that was just his. Delving into fashion had been his own personal fuck-you to the Royal Court at the beginning. They hadn’t been too keen on a big ‘coming out’ – and honestly, neither had Wille, not wanting to deal with all the drama – but the clothes he had a little more leeway with. Meeting with designers and learning about fashion was one of the few ways he could bring a bit of Wille into his position. If he wore things that were a bit more feminine or not-fitting for a straight crown prince, so what? The headlines would be what they were. It all helped him breathe a little easier, too, knowing that this part of his life was still his to control.

The theme of this year’s Met Gala was ‘Grimm Couture: Origins of Fashion’ and the dress code followed closely as ‘A Fairytale Encounter’. The royal-ness of it all hence why the Crown Prince of Sweden would be in attendance. Wille was honored, he supposed, to have been invited in the first place. It did seem a little bit too much like all the other events he usually attended – a night of rich people flaunting their wealth and pretending there were zero problems in the world – but the Court had insisted. Once he found out that Simon Eriksson would be attending, Wille had stopped putting up any sort of fight. 

With a final gulp of air, he nodded to the driver. A moment later, the car door opened, and a million flashes and shouts hit him all at once. Blinking away the initial shock, Wilhelm stood and waved politely, the perfect-prince mask slipping into place. Not wanting to draw too much attention to himself but wanting to fit the dress code, Wilhelm had leaned into the fairy tale aspect. He chuckled slightly at the thought of Erik seeing him now, parading around in a light green and gold suit decorated with lily pads and willow branches. It felt nice to still have an inside joke with him, imagining Erik laughing at his little brother, The Frog Prince, attending such a prestigious event. 

Slowly, he was guided, buffeted by multiple security guards, toward the main event and the main red carpet. He tried not to look too obvious as he glanced around, only really looking for one person. The saturation of fame in such a small space was astounding. Wilhelm was a different kind of famous from these people. A few tweets would be sent out by random people questioning his identity or purpose for being there and (hopefully) complimenting his suit. The rest of this crowd, though, were real famous people, renowned around the world. Like, for example, Simon Eriksson. The man was three-quarters of the way to an EGOT, and he was only 24. He also happened to be Wilhelm’s favorite music artist and the main star in his dreams. They followed each other on socials but had never spoken in real life. Tonight, Wille hoped, that would change.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, Wilhelm spotted him. An absolute vision of sin, Simon Eriksson wore a deep purple affair, dripping in silver jewelry and pants so long and layered they might have been a skirt. His jacket was cropped and open in the front, revealing a bare, toned chest and midriff.  

Voices shouting his official title shook Wilhelm out of his trance, and he let his eyes linger a second longer before turning to the photographers in front of him. Wilhelm made his way up the stairs distractedly, posing and half-heartedly answering interviewers questions. He simply could not look away from Simon, who was working his way up the other side of the stairs. 

A few times, Simon caught Wilhelm staring and smirked devilishly at him. Wilhelm would whip his head back around and attempt to smooth his features, having to ask the poor journalist to repeat their question. Halfway up the stairs, Wilhelm zeroed into an interview Simon was giving right behind him. 

“Simon, Simon! Tonight’s theme is all about fairy tale encounters. What fairy tales inspired your look tonight?” 

Wilhelm couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder as Simon let out a warm laugh. 

“Well, I’ve never been much of a believer in fairy tales. But looking around tonight,” Simon said thoughtfully, then turned and made direct eye contact with Wilhelm, “it seems I might find a prince of my own.” 

Wilhelm, aware of their surroundings, sent a kind smile back, then quickly turned away to hide his blush. 

The rest of their travel up the carpet continued as such, sending flirty glances at each other across the distance and adding piles of fuel to the media fire Wilhelm was sure to hear all about tomorrow. He couldn’t find it in himself to care. Still, he did his best to answer the interviewers questions, wanting to be respectful of their time and also to plug some of the charities he was proud to work with. 

As soon as he made it to the top of the carpet, Simon disappeared into the crowd. Wilhelm didn’t see him for hours. In fact, he thought he might’ve left. It wasn’t until the evening was beginning to draw to a close, and Wilhelm was beginning to accept the fact he’d never get more than a teasing look from a distance, that he ran into Simon in the men’s restroom.

“Kronprinsen,” Simon said in a mocking tone, dipping into a small curtsy. His pretty voice echoed slightly in the tiled room.

Wilhelm groaned. “Please, no. Just– Just Wilhelm is fine. Wille.” 

Simon’s eyes were playful, and, at this closer distance, Wilhelm could see the intricate black and silver eyeliner accentuating them. Thankfully, it seemed the bathroom was empty, so no one would see just how weak in the knees Wille was feeling.

“Okay, Wille,” he nodded, “I’m Simon.”

“I know,” Wille blurted. “I mean, how are you enjoying the evening?

“Ugh,” Simon rolled his eyes, “I hate these things. All the fuss kind of makes me sick, but I’ve got an album coming out soon, so the label insisted. Plus, who am I to turn down Anna Wintour?”  

“Well, you look absolutely incredible, regardless. I’m a little worried you’re in the background of all my photos and stealing my shine.” 

The immediate light in Simon’s eyes was worth the slight blush on Wille’s cheeks. Unknowingly, they had both stepped forward, bringing them closer in the already small space. 

“Oh, dear,” Simon drawled, raising a hand to grasp at Wille’s lapels, “Are you nervous that people are going to notice you’ve been staring at me all night?” 

At their sudden close proximity, Wille swallowed dryly. His eyes flickered down when Simon wet his lips, as if in invitation. 

“How could I have looked anywhere else?” he whispered into the space between them. 

Simon hummed. “Were you planning on staying much longer, Your Highness?” 

“Don’t call me that,” Wille groaned again and reached out to wrap an arm around Simon’s waist, then pulled him in. “But, no, In fact, I was just leaving.”

The last bit of space vanished between their bodies and Simon tilted his head up tauntingly, revealing even more of that beautiful neck of his. “I see. Me too.”

“Do you need a ride?” Wille asked, breathing the words into the sliver of air separating his lips from Simon’s. 

“I’d love one.” 

That was the last Met Gala either of them attended. Three years later, the notorious fashion event had a much smaller audience as the majority of the world turned its attention to the highly anticipated summer wedding of an Ex-Crown Prince Wilhelm and EGOT-winner Simon Eriksson. 

[yarrystyleeza]

𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓪'𝓼 𝓽𝔀𝓸 𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓭

𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓼𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻

𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

The moment I've been waiting for has finally come! As I indicated in the headline, I've reached 200 followers here on Tumblr, thank you all so much, this truly means a lot to me, also thank you for the feedback I always got on my works and even my random shitposts! <3

and to celebrate this very important and remarkable life event— I had planned a sleepover celebration which consists of games, questions, asks, and of course, requests! <3

The sleepover will be a week long, from September 15th till the 21st of the same month where you can submit asks and requests!

As for games, I have a list of them!

Kiss/Marry/Kill: you give me three characters and I will sort each one in one of these categories! (make it hard for me)

This or That: you give me two things/characters and I get to choose one that suits me better! (for example: night owl or early bird?)

make an assumption: you literally make an assumption about me and I either prove it or deny it!

never have I ever: you ask me about things I did or didn't do!

exchanged ships: you basically give me a character that you find as my significant other, and I will give you a character in exchange and why I think it's the perfect character for you!

Q&A: you can ask me about anything, whether it's my favorite food or even what fabrics do I prefer to wear, ask whatever you want!

Girly talks: just talk to me about any girly topic you want and we'll establish a good conversation! Let's talk about books or authors, favorite poetry pieces, maybe movies we loved in our childhood, or even your favorite outfits back when you were a 10 year old! Literally anything!

Rate my music taste: give me a song/artist and I will rate it from 1 (absolute flop) to 10 (total banger)! — (this is absolutely done just for fun).

I wanna write you a song: start with a phrase and we will make a totally original song together in the reblogs!

Note on prohibited things that I won't be doing or answering:

No nsfw/dirty asks, writing requests or questions, it's uncomfortable for me, and it's an all-ages-friendly celebration. No further elaboration, please respect this. <3

AND FINALLY, THE REQUESTS!

As for writing requests, I will be taking fluff/angst/violence (blood and gore—due to the nature of the characters I write for) x female!reader requests only. And of course you can request the prompt you desire. <3

As for the characters, here's a list of the fictional men that I would be writing for:

Matt Murdock/Daredevil

Tristan Thorn

Michael Kinsella

Daryl Dixon

(might consider writing for other Charlie Cox/Norman Reedus characters. example: Ian Hamilton, Henry the vampire, Scud, Murphy MacManus, etc.)

You can ask for prompt included in this list or ones you come up with yourself:

Intimate moments

Gestures that make me feel love

Romantic rainy day prompts

gentle things that makes me fall harder in love

fluffy comforting/sick dialogue prompts

lighthearted first kiss scenarios

Sparring prompts

Forced proximity prompts

Date prompts masterpost

Note that I will be tagging the fic requests with #yuna's 2h sleepover celebration so that they're all sorted there, but they will be sorted in my main masterlist as regular requests! <3

tagging my moots to spread the word sorry for being a little too annoying hehe (and I tried to tag as much as possible but my memory is messing around with me I'm sorry if I forgot anyone) @v4leoftears @remonemo @fizanotfeeza @netflixmatt @bellaxgiornata @farfromstrange @itwasthereaminuteago @loveroftoomanyfandoms @little-miss-dilf-lover @tongueofcat @mattmurdockscox @courtforshort15 @chvoswxtch @mattmurdocksscars @kal-0n @murc0ck @babygrlmurdock @galaxies-and-moons-and-cox @acharliecoxedfan @mindidjarin @she-likesorchids @munsonownsmyass @saintmurd0ck @murdocklorian @abbyhaslongshorts @theradioactivespidergwen @softasawhisper @peterman-spideyparker @mattmurdocksstarlight @netflixmatt-main

That's basically everything I have for my first sleepover celebration, feel free to submit your requests and games anytime! Thank you for coming to my sleepover tonight! <3

[cherrylng]

MUSE Trivia and More [INROCK (December 2018)]

Three all the way The three members - Matthew Bellamy (vo./keys./g.), Chris Wolstenholme (b.) and Dominic (Dom) Howard (dr.) - have remained the same since the band formed in the early '90s.

Discography Muse have produced eight albums to date. The eighth is their latest, 'Simulation Theory', due for release on 9th November 2018.

● Debut album 'Showbiz' (1999) Released in '99, it reached a top ranking of 29 in the UK charts and sold 700,000 copies. It did not chart in the USA.

● Second album 'Origin of Symmetry' (2001) Number 3 in the UK, 1.5 million copies sold so far. Top 10 in seven European countries. Not released in the USA until four years later in 2005. This delay was caused by the band's then-owned label in the US, Maverick Records, deciding that Matthew's falsetto was not suitable for radio, and the band parted ways with the label as a result of the discussions at the time. It did not chart on Billboard (#161) until February 2010, another five years after its release in the USA.

● Third album 'Absolution' (2003) Number one in the UK and France. Top 10 in 10 European countries. Has sold 3.5 million copies worldwide to date.

● Fourth album 'Black Holes and Revelations' (2006) Number one in the UK, Australia, Ireland and Switzerland. It was the best-selling album of the year in Europe. It was the band's first ever Top 10 album in the USA. It sold nearly 4.5 million copies worldwide.

● Fifth album 'The Resistance' (2009) First album produced by the band themselves. It reached No. 1 in 14 countries, including the US Billboard Alternative Chart. It also sold around 4.5 million copies worldwide.

● Sixth album 'The 2nd Law' (2012) Sales fell to 2.5 million copies, but it reached number one in more than 10 countries. The stadium tour that accompanied the album recorded the largest attendance in the band's history, generating revenues of $103 million (approx. ¥11.551 billion) from 79 shows. The show at Rome's Stadio Olimpico, which attracted more than 60,000 spectators, was later released as the live album 'Live at Rome Olympic Stadium'.

● Seventh album 'Drones' (2015) The band reached number one in 15 countries and number one in the USA for the first time. The footage from the Drones tour was turned into a film, which was screened for one night only around the world on 12th July this year (note: there was also an encore screening in Japan). No DVD release date has yet been announced.

Funny memories Dom cites the Zepp DiverCity Tokyo show on 13th August 2013 as his funniest memory ever. During the last four songs, a group of people wearing headgear (presumably roadies and friends) stormed onto the stage. The footage was filmed, but the full story has not yet been released. [T/N: It has since been released on Muse's YouTube channel on April 2020. It was for Panic Station, Supermassive Black Hole, Can't Take My Eyes Off of You, and Starlight. You're welcome.]

Father George Bellamy Matthew's father, George Bellamy, is a rhythm guitarist best known for his '60s band The Tornados. He still plays in local Devon bands.

Metallica are also fans of Muse! The band played at the Big Day Out rock festival in Australia and New Zealand in 2004. At the time, there were no rehearsal trucks available, so the main act Metallica set up a rehearsal tent right next to the main stage. As Muse exited the stage after their turn, Metallica were often heard warming up with 'New Born', a song from their second album Origin of Symmetry.

Rise to prominence When they played Glastonbury Festival for the first time on 25th June 2000 [T/N: Technically, this is their second time performing in Glastonbury. Their first time was actually on 25th June 1999], they were ninth out of 11 on the Other Stage. They parked an old Volkswagen van in the guest/artist campsite, pitched a tent next to it and cooked breakfast outside. Four years later, in 2004, they became the headlining artist on the Pyramid Stage. They no longer needed to camp in tents.

Temporary bedroom The songwriting for third album 'Absolution' was done in a warehouse in East London. Chris therefore set up and slept in an air-inflated bed there, which he bought from IKEA.

Where are the first performance recordings!? They are still very embarrassed about their demo tapes 'This is a Muse Demo' ('95) and 'Newton Abbot Demo' ('97) and their first performance as a band when they tried out for the Battle of the Bands contest ('94). Whenever a copy of "This is a Muse Demo'' was put on an auction site, someone would sell it for an unbelievable amount of money. The "someone" is thought by fans to be the band members themselves.

Poker face!? The three of them like to play poker. When they played with Robert Smith (The Cure, vo./g), they won a lot of money. At one point, they played almost every day on tour, and as a result Matthew owed his crew and band members thousands of dollars. He likes to go to the Bellagio Casino in Las Vegas to play poker with betting limits, because it's not so easy with restrictions. He still plays on the tour bus, but there is also alcohol involved, so at the end of the day it's all about throwing chips at each other.

Jetpack For their show at Wembley Stadium in June 2007, the band planned to appear on stage with jet packs, which would allow them to fly using the jets on their backs. However, the stadium's health and safety team refused permission. Matthew's guitar was allowed to be carried onto the stage by a remote-controlled robot. Incidentally, Matthew actually bought and owns the jet pack for £10,000. He was addicted to such gadgets for a while, but woke up one day when he lost his mobile phone and realised he could still live without it.

Avoiding the 9/11 attacks On 10 September 2001, Muse were due to play a showcase gig at the Mercury Lounge in New York. But when that was cancelled, they flew early to their next destination, Boston. If they had stayed another night at a hotel on New York's Lower East Side as planned, they might have been caught up in the attacks on the World Trade Centre.

A row with Celine Dion In 2002, there was a row with Celine Dion. She revealed her plans to name her long-running Las Vegas show Muse. Matthew commented, "I don't want people to think we're Celine Dion's backing band." Celine insisted on the title Muse and proposed an offer to pay them £32,000 (approximately JPY 4.7 million), which Muse refused. Celine's management then pushed to go ahead with the plan anyway, and Muse considered filing a lawsuit. In the end, Céline relented and the title changed to 'A New Day'… and began its extended run the following year in 2003.

Matthew, you're about to get killed! Matthew likes scuba diving, but thinks he was nearly killed by an instructor once. The instructor liked Matthew's girlfriend at the time and tried to kill him by putting only half the oxygen in his oxygen tank when she got in the way. As well as scuba diving, Matthew has also tried squash, but he always ends up crashing into the wall and getting hurt.

Personal life ● Matthew Matthew was engaged to Italian psychologist Gaia Polloni until December 2009 and lived in a mansion in the village of Mortolazio on the western shore of Lake Como in Italy until 2010. The mansion was put on the market last year for just under USD 2 million (approximately JPY 224 million). It is approximately 250 square metres in size. It was built in the late 1820s, when the Italian composer Vincenzo Bellini lived there and Winston Churchill was invited to visit and paint. Neighbours include George Clooney and Sir Richard Branson. Matthew made the album 'The Resistance' here. After his breakup with Gaia, he started dating actress Kate Hudson in the spring of 2010 and got engaged the following year. Their son, Bing, was born in July of the same year. He and Kate ended their engagement in December 2014. He started dating model Elle Evans in 2015 and they became engaged in December 2017. Matthew now lives in the USA and owns at least three mansions in the Los Angeles area. Two of them are in Malibu. One was purchased from radio personality Adam Carolla in late 2014 for $3.6 million. The other house was purchased in 2016 for $2.6 million (JPY 291 million). The third house was bought last year for $7.25 million (approximately JPY 813 million) on a green lot in Brentwood, between Westwood and Santa Monica, from former tennis player Pete Sampras. In addition to this, he also owns mansions in his hometown of Devon and in London. In addition, in Malibu, he is neighbours with Chris Martin (Coldplay, vo./g. / piano), with whom he occasionally exchanges dirty-talking emails. In jest, of course.

● Chris Chris has six children with his wife Kelly, whom he married in 2003. His alcoholism deteriorated to the point of vomiting blood at one point, yet his bass playing skills remained undiminished and those around him were slow to realise the gravity of the situation. However, during the making of The Resistance, he finally entered rehab and underwent treatment. He has been sober ever since.

● Dom There is no mention of Dom getting married. Last autumn, he adopted a dog named Floyd, who appears to be a Boston terrier.

Guitars smashed Matthew entered the Guinness World Records in 2010 for smashing 140 guitars on tour in 2004. But he didn't actually break that many, and the guitars he smashed on stage usually just split the body and neck in half. Even if they look broken, they are actually repaired and returned. He has only broken about four guitars before he really broke them again, and one of them was a Gibson Les Paul that he didn't break on stage, but smashed into a cupboard. Counting his entire career, he has destroyed and replaced roughly 20 necks. But it's not just the guitars that suffer from Matthew's act. Dom is also a good nuisance. He has been injured three times so far because of the guitars Matthew has thrown around.

China tour When the 'Drones' tour visited Beijing on 9th September 2015 and Shanghai on 21st September 2015, 'Uprising' and 'Revolt' were removed from the set list. This was because they were deemed excessively political by the Chinese government.

'Twilight' series of romantic films Stephenie Meyer, author of the popular Twilight novels, is a big fan of Muse. Therefore, the soundtracks of the film trilogy 'Twilight' (2008), 'New Moon/Twilight Saga' (2009) and 'Eclipse/Twilight Saga' (2010) contain the songs 'Supermassive Black Hole', 'I Belong To You (+Mon Coeur S'Ouvre A Ta Voix)' and 'Neutron Star Collision (Love is Forever)', respectively. Neutron Star Collision was written specifically for Eclipse.

Impressions of Kanye West Matthew likes rap music and is a big fan of Kanye West. He describes Kanye's music as "It's already thoroughly me, me, me." However, one time Kanye came to say hello to Muse backstage, and instead of being "me", he just talked about T-shirts and left. Matthew found it so funny that he later named his cats Kanye and Kim (Kanye's wife Kim Kardashian).

Translator's Note: Okay, so I already knew a good majority of these trivia information as a long time fan, but I do acknowledge that some are new to me. Mostly, given that all of this information was up until late 2018, some of the information written in there can be considered as outdated.

[kaigarax]

Bittersweet

Niko Ikki x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone bringing you forward." & "Fall in love with an attentive heart."

Someone You Loved Featuring: The Bookkeeper

There was a nervous sort of feeling that filled Niko Ikki to the brim as he entered the building. It wasn’t his first time attending an art exhibit but it certainly felt so. There had been plenty of art exhibits he had been invited to (mostly yours) but this would only be the third he’s chosen to attend and (he’d like to point out) not for a lack of want.

The free time of an athlete, contrary to popular belief, was quite limited. Much of his free time was spent either muscle conditioning, reviewing hours of film and honing his practical skills. Not to mention when he did have games there was no way he’d be allowed to miss it, even if he was injured or sick. All of which accumulated to a small number of days he absolutely had to miss and even more when taking into account what he couldn’t stand to miss.

But, luckily, it had been the midst of the off season when the invitation arrived in the mail.

It was a pretty card, swirling coffee and chestnut browns boarded a picture that Niko was certain you’d taken. His name, so carefully and dutifully written atop the page, written by none other than you. He can tell it’s your writing from the way you dot your I’s and swerve your k’s. Almost immediately after receiving the letter did he send a reply in response.

Niko, being the ever punctual and attentive soul that he is, arrives precisely on the time which has been listed atop the card. Which means he arrives exactly an hour later than you and a half hour earlier than all the other guests. You, being the main headliner, meant you would obviously have to arrive earlier than the guest in order to make sure everything was running smoothly. And, all the other guests arriving exactly half an hour late is what all artists like to call arriving fashionably late.

Niko never really understood the term ‘fashionably late’. One of his teammates, the rich fellow that grew up in this kinda world, had tried explaining it to him but the fundamental idea of arriving late was just something Niko couldn’t get with. As an athlete, arriving late was basically a prison sentence to the bench if not the death of your career.

He looked around pensively. The room was mostly empty, if not for a few of the staff running around the back of the room trying to put the last finishing touches on everything before the exhibit was filled to the brim with people.

The small vase of red flowers makes Niko stand out like a sore thumb against the coffee gray walls and dim lighting. He thinks that maybe the flowers would match the room a little better if not for the fact that he’s chosen a bright blue vase.

“Niko!” Your voice floats through the presently empty building like the melody of a long forgotten favourite song.

He smiles, ever so slightly, “(L/n).”

“I’m so happy you decided to come.”

“Me too.”

“Have you been waiting long?”

“Just arrived.”

“Oh, that’s a relief! I was supposed to be waiting for guests to arrive but then I had to use the washroom and then by the time I realised it, it was already time to open!” You smile sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck, “most people don’t arrive on time but they're always eager folk like you.”

Perhaps that was what drew you to Niko in the first place?

His punctual presence?

Niko’s expression betrays his persona of a cool and calculated man as a smile turns his lips upwards, “and isn't that your favourite thing about me?”

“Not when I’m running late!” You exclaim.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Niko holds the blue vase of red flowers out to you, “congratulations.”

You smile, not that practiced one that you usually greet others with, nor the one where your eyes close when you're embarrassed. You smile a pretty and genuine smile as you take the blue vase from him, “thank you Niko. You shouldn’t have.”

Niko’s heart skips a beat, “don’t think about it too hard.”

“Give me a moment to put these away and then I’ll show you around the gallery.” You say, “you’re going to love some of the photos I did this year. Definitely some of my best work. Much better than the landscape one you went to last year.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Niko I can look around well enough on my own. You focus on entertaining those art critics you’re always worrying about.”

You look torn, looking between Niko and the door before finally sighing, “you’re staying for the reception, right?”

Niko chuckles, “only for you.”

You smile thankfully before making your way off towards a door near the back of the room.

Truthfully, Niko had only planned on staying for an hour or so. He’d never really been a big fan of art and though yours was an exception there was still only so much time he could stand still staring at pictures. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to say ‘no’ when you made such an expression. Actually, he’d never been very good at saying no to you in the first place and part of him is certain you know that. The other part of him doesn't care. It’s you, afterall.

Everything feels much more abstract in this particular album, though Niko supposes it would be so with a title like ‘The Poet’. Poets are, afterall, weavers of words and creators of worlds left only to be seen in the mind. There’s no definitive person in any of the photos but it’s obviously all relating to a single person with a title like ‘The Poet’ falling into your collection of Muses.

One photo, for example, has the hand of a man holding a plastic paint brush dipped in the darkest of black paints. Letters, Niko supposes, are sprawled across leaving what he assumes to be a poetic message but the language isn’t anything he recognizes. Not that it matters anyways. He’s much more focused on the yellow edges of the paper, the corners wrinkled and ripped and torn ever so slightly. The photo’s titled ‘Between You and Me’ in golden plating at the bottom of the frame. It’s pretty.

“Bookkeeper!”

Niko turns to the loud voice letting out a deep sigh when he comes face to face with the loud and boisterous, “Dancer.”

The Dancer is a man with bright coloured hair. Not so orange yet not so red. Never quite blonde but neither a brunette. His hair is untamed and runs off in every direction it so pleases like a lion’s mane. Niko’s seen folks from all around the world but he never can seem to place where exactly the Dancer might be from. He’s well dressed, in a black suit with a splash of colour in the form of an orange tie. Niko thinks it goes well with his hair. His blue shades, on the other hand, contrast with the look and are at the least tacky. Looking very stupid inside a dark venue such as the one you’ve chosen.

What you ever saw in such a boisterous and obnoxious man is far beyond even Niko’s wildest imaginations but he supposes he’s never asked you before. Niko never doubted your choice in Muses except for perhaps this man here.

No, that’s a lie.

There are plenty of you Muses that Niko wouldn’t have picked but he does have to admit one thing. You have an eye for people that draw attention - which is why, for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why you had picked him in the first place.

Hopefully your taste hasn't once again been led astray with the Poet.

Niko can only hope.

“What’re you doing in a place like this?” The Dancer asks, “I thought Soccer players were kept in jail cells in the offseason.”

Niko rolls his eyes, though he doubts the Dancer can see it, “football.”

“Hm?”

“Football, Dancer. Not soccer.”

The Dancer shrugs, “football. Soccer. Same difference.”

Niko’d say something about Americans though he doubts that’s where the Dancer is actually from, especially from his accent. Besides, he’s certain the Dancer is doing it on purpose. Always did find some sick form of amusement from annoying others. Anyways, it would be an insult to Americans to lump this obnoxious man among them. Even right now Niko has half a mind to flip this man off or say something rude. He obviously refrains from doing so as he’d never want to ruin your big night (or just do anything to make you upset in general) but the idea is enough to cheer him up, if just a little.

“What do you want, Dancer?” Sighs Niko.

The Dancer feigns an expression of pain, “why, Bookkeeper I’m hurt! And here I was thinking we were finally friends.”

“I definitely wouldn’t have come here if I’d have known you were coming.”

“Just imagine our little photographer's expression if she heard that!”

“I’m certain she’d understand.”

“Always let you get away with little things like that.”

“That’s because I’m actually nice to her.”

“Hey! I’m nice to her.”

Niko smirks, “if you say so.”

The Dancer looks as though he wants to say something more but bites his tongue. His eyes move across the room landing on you as you’re in the middle of a conversation with a couple. You’re pointing out something about the photo the three of you are standing in front of before laughing at a joke you must’ve just told. He knows you must’ve been the one to tell the joke from the way you cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

“So what’s your consensus on the Poet?” Asks the Dancer.

Niko turns to face him, “haven’t met him. You?”

“Haven’t met him either. His name’s listed in the agenda and credits but there’s no photo of his face.”

Niko smiles ever so slightly at that, “so he’s camera shy.”

“He’s certainly not the only one.”

Niko has a jibe at the forefront of his mind but holds his tongue as you and the couple you’re talking to pass by himself and the Dancer. So instead, he turns towards the nearest photo plastered up on the wall, “any guess on who it might be?”

The Dancer points to a man standing in the back of the room with blonde hair, “what about him?”

“No,” Niko shakes his head, “his features are… plain.”

“Perhaps that’s why his face isn’t in any of the photos.”

“There’s nothing about him that screams ‘sparking’.”

“Ah yes,” says the Dancer, “sparking,” as though it’s his first time tasting the words upon his lips.

“How about him?” Asks Niko, pointing to a man close to him with gray eyes.

“Hm,” the Dancer inspects him for a bit before pulling back, “no chance.”

Niko doesn't disagree.

The two men spend more time looking at the different party guests than they do looking at the pictures containing the man they happen to be looking for. From boys looking to have just entered their early twenties to men whose hair has begun to turn gray.

Eventually they both settle on a brunette with brown eyes. The tips of his hair are dyed a green that strangely seems to go very well with the coffee brown walls of the room.

Niko shares a look with the Dancer.

Then the Dancer is off with another word, making his way towards the Poet without another word.

The Poet is tall and attractive. Perhaps not jaw dropping attractive but attractive enough to garner the attention of a female or two. Perhaps even three if he knew how to play his cards right. He’s looking around the room like a deer in headlights, shifting his weight from one foot to the other constantly. He looks nice, if not a little timid. Exactly what Niko would expect from someone too shy to actually have their face featured in any of your photos.

Some of your photos don’t even feature him in the first place like the photo title ‘Again’ for example. There’s a black book left alone on a coffee table, propped open to a page somewhere in the middle of the novel. The words ‘Friend or Foe’ are written in neat black font on the top of one page while the other side, where the author’s name would be, is covered with a black pen.

Niko assumes that the same black pen is the one responsible for leaving words scribbled along the margins of the page. Some of the words are crossed out while others are highlighted, underlined and circled. That strange letting from the photo before can be found here again. Niko wonders if it might be the same word but doesn't care enough to ask.

The Dancer, Niko notes, makes quick work of teasing your latest Muse. The boy goes from a nervous pale to a bright red in a matter of moments.

Eventually, when the Dancer has had enough tormenting the Poet (or at least Niko assumes so) he leaves to view the rest of the gallery.

Now, Niko has never really been one for confrontation but he did suddenly find himself very curious. In truth, there was only so much he really knew about you and perhaps… he might even be able to learn something new about you from the Poet. Perhaps he had managed to see something with eyes that Niko hadn’t used. And even if the Poet knew nothing he’d like to at least see why you had chosen this man to be your latest Muse.

So, Niko approaches him and greets him with a simple, “you look nervous.”

The Poet brings an arm to the back of his head, smiling sheepishly, “was it that obvious?”

Niko grins, “very.”

He’s green, thinks Niko. Almost as green as you had been when the two of you first met.

“What do you do for a living, Poet?” Asks Niko.

The Poet raises a brow, “me?”

“You are the Poet, aren’t you?” Niko lets out a nervous laugh, “unless I’m mistaken.”

“You’re not.”

“That’s good.”

The Poet looks around, eyeing Niko as though he’s scared that Niko might suddenly turn feral and decide to attack him. His unease is enough to calm Niko’s own nerves.

“And you’re the Bookkeeper, right?” Asks the Poet.

Niko shrugs, “I’m not a big fan of that particular title but yes. If it helps you to identify me.” The only one that ever really calls him that is the Dancer, but he supposes if anyone else were to use that to identify him it might as well be another one of the muses. ”So are you an author?”

“An aspiring one.”

There’s that amused smile picking at the corner of Niko’s lips again. Someone that gives flowery words to mundane things reduced to something so simple, “ironic then, isn’t it?”

“Huh?” There’s a look of confusion on the Poet’s face but it’s quickly replaced with one of recognition, “I suppose. So what do you do Mr. Bookkeeper? I don’t suppose you’re a librarian, are ya?”

Finally, Niko laughs, “I guess a title like that would cause an assumption like that! But no, I’m no librarian. In fact, I don’t even work with books. I’m a professional football player.”

“Wow!” The Poet’s eyes widened, “I wouldn’t have expected that!”

“Yeah,” Niko smiles sheepishly, “I’m not the most popular player because of my position but I do enjoy what I do.”

“So how’d you end up getting such a title in the first place?”

“I’m not so sure myself. I think it has something to do with where we met and the photos she ended up taking. I’m not even an avid reader in the first place.”

“Maybe it has to do with maintaining records. Like with banks?”

Niko shrugged.

“Maybe you should ask her about it.”

Niko eyed the Poet. Looking him up and down before finally saying, “you haven’t known her very long, have you?”

The Poet looks offended as he exclaims, “what gives you that impression?”

The familiar feeling of amusement bubbles up in Niko’s stomach, “she never answers questions the way you want her to.”

“Oh,” the Poet looks almost disheartened, and it almost makes Niko feel bad, “I guess I never really noticed that.”

Niko gives the Poet a strong tap on his shoulder, similar to how he might do when trying to cheer up one of his teammates, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. So you plan on staying for the reception?”

“I don’t think she’d forgive me if I skipped.”

“Yeah,” Niko chuckles, “I don’t think she would either. See you around.”

“Yeah,” the Poet sighs, “see you around.”

Looks like there wasn’t much to be gained from that conversation for Niko. Though he supposes that’s how things have always been between him and you. Him watching and learning about you from a distance - you are just barely out of reach.

A blue vase of red flowers sits atop a stand in the corner of the room and it makes Niko smile. Not one of those amused of practiced smiles but a real one and his heart flutters a little. And it’s bittersweet, just like those flowers.

Fall in love with someone bringing you forward.

---

Bittersweet

“Do you think you could raise your head a little?” You asked, your eyes darting from the lens of the camera to his face.

If Niko had known, agreeing to a photoshoot would have taken this long.

“Like this?” Niko asked, raising his head.

Or been this demanding.

“A little more to the left?”

“Here?”

He certainly wouldn’t have agreed.

“Now a smidget down.”

“A smidget?”

He, contrary to what the average person would believe, was quite familiar with being behind the lens. Any professional athlete was used to being recorded while in the midst of their job. Known that they were constantly being broadcasted to the rest of the world.

There was also the factor of Media Day, where all the team's players would gather together and take a series of photos that would be shown to the public.

Those two experiences though were nothing like this. Not so personal and sporadic. None of the photographers (or cameramen) he’s ever had to deal with had been as particular or picky as you.

“Hm,” you took a step around your set up, careful not to disturb anything around him, before making your way towards him. Your hands were gentle as you repositioned Niko’s head into what you deemed was the perfect spot. You face only inches away from his own. You brought a hand to your chin as you leaned back to inspect your work. Smiling when you were finally satisfied.

None of his other experiences behind the lens had ever been quite like this.

You pulled back, a cute sorta smile on your face as you raced back to the lens. Niko’s own face flushed a bright red.

Quite this… intimate.

“Is that the last one?” Niko asked.

“Well,” you smile sheepishly, “I was hoping for one more photo but… if you’re done then we can end it here. I’m sure I have enough film to pull something together for the first half of the album.”

Niko can feel a certain warmth ebbing away at his chest as he looks at your expectant smile, “find. One more, but that’s it.”

“Thank you!” You beam, bouncing up to move your camera to another spot of the room, “I promise it’ll be quick.”

Niko chuckles, “I can only hope.”

You make a show of rolling your eyes but Niko can see the hint of a smile on your lips.

He’s barely a year older than you but sometimes it feels like a lifetime. You’ve just always seemed so full of youth and life. So excited for everything you get the chance to do. From the moment he first met you until now. Of course, he thinks it might be related to how the two of you were raised. The things in your life that influenced you up until now.

His own upbringing had forced him to grow up in conventional and crazy ways; and almost everything in his life had seemed to revolve around football. European football, that is.

Your own, in comparison, seemed almost tame. Sure you did suddenly rise to fame at the ripe age of 19 but everything else before then seemed almost ordinary. You often spoke to him about the childhood friends you had growing up and the different hobbies you’d cycle through when you were young.

“So how many other albums have you done?” Niko asked, repositioning himself to face the camera.

You fiddled around with the lens, poking your head back and forth from the view of the camera to the view behind, “three.” You pulled out a small compact mirror from your pocket holding it up to the sky before quickly closing it and throwing it back into your pocket, “do you think we should open the window?” You make your way there, not bothering to wait for a response from Niko, “yes, definitely. It’ll make it look like a photo from another day.”

Niko opened his mouth.

“No, maybe that would be too tacky. You are wearing the same thing after all,” you began.

“(L/n).” Niko hummed.

“Maybe you should take off the tie?”

“(Y/n).”

“Oh, but I do quite like the tie. The look isn’t quite complete without it.”

Niko let out a laugh.

You pause, stopping suddenly, “Niko?”

The look on your face is enough to send the man into another bout of laughter.

When he first heard about you people had told him you could be quite a diva. So easily swayed one way or another. That your temper was easily nudged and almost everything someone else did could set you off. Those were, of course, rumors but rumors all have truth stemming from somewhere right?

He’d been so weary of bumping into someone with such a fickle attitude that he hadn’t even realised he first met you when he did.

Niko had bumped into you head first, sending you sprawling to the ground and breaking your camera in the process. He panicked, of course (as any sane person would have) and immediately attempted to replace it. You had agreed to the replacement of a camera but hadn’t been able to save all the photos in the camera which is how he agreed to be here in the first place.

You were so calm when he first bumped into you. A gentle smile on your face as he attempted to help you up. Niko, at one point, wasn’t even certain of what to say. Finding himself both at an impasse and loss for words. It was, afterall, not everyday that one bumped into a girl as pretty as yourself.

Both versions, the emotional and eccentric one from the rumors and the calm sweet girl he bumped into the other day, seemed like such a stark contrast from who you were now as you scrambled around the room in an attempt to take the perfect photo of him in a short amount of time. It was cute and almost heartwarming in a strange kinda way.

“Haha,” you pouted, “keep laughing.”

And he did, of course. But it wasn’t as though he needed your permission in the first place. An expression like that already seemed to do the trick well enough.

‘SNAP.’

Niko’s laughter stopped, as he looked up at you curiously, “(L/n)?”

“Oh, not so funny now, huh?” You teased.

Niko chuckled, “of course.”

“Now are you ready?”

Niko gave the camera his best smile, “like this?”

You smiled apologetically, “do you think you could raise your head a little?”

Niko made a show of sighing but his heart did a strange little thumping pattern as he watched you from afar, fiddling with the lens.

For you, he’d do anything.

---

“What’re you doing out here, (L/n)?” Niko asked, taking a step out from the warm lodge lobby and into the cool outdoors.

Thick fluffy white puffs of dust, known as snow, fluttered down from the sky. There was no music but a slow and lethargic rhythm to the snow as it fell. Here, Niko imagines, is where the protagonist in a romantic comedy would get down on one knee and finally profess his love for the girl that he’s been slowly falling in love with over the past week. The climax to all the emotions that have been building up through the course of the film.

Here, Niko imagines, is where someone like you ought to exist.

In the midst or ordinary and supernatural. Of reality and fairytale. In the very pinnacle of Romance and immigration, where the lives of so many seem to meet.

You’re not dressed particularly warm but you don’t seem very bothered by the cold despite the tip of your nose dipped a shade different from the cold. There’s a scarf wrapped around your neck that looks to be more made for males but Niko doesn't care enough to know or ask. If you cared enough to tell him then you would.

“It’s snowing.” You answered.

“You can watch the snow from inside too, ya know.”

“I know.”

Niko took a deep breath of the cool air, moving to stand beside you, “but it just isn’t the same?”

You smiled, “yeah.”

Niko never really thought much of snow and when he did it was mostly of the cold weather in general. Cold weather meant he’d no longer be able to go out and play football with his friends. Meant he’d have to stay indoors or find some indoor football gym which was far and few between.

Right now though, spurred on by your own attitude, Niko finally took the time to stop and look around.

It was pretty, in a etherial sorta way.

Like those photos his mother used to love looking at when he was young. The kind of photos she’d point out to him and speak about missing when she was young. And it did remind him of his youth. A time when everything seemed so much simpler than it was now. So much more out of reach.

You’re a little bit like snowflakes, Niko thinks. So beautiful, seeming as though you’ve fallen from heaven down onto earth. Something meant to be admired. Even if people like him ignore you there will certainly be a moment when he’s forced to stop and admire you, like now.

He held a hand out, reaching out for a snowflake falling down.

‘Snap.’

Niko pulls his hand back and turns to look at you.

You’re holding a small instant film camera, smiling sheepishly as the camera prints a photo. Likely a photo of him.

“(L/n).” Niko hums.

“Niko.”

“Can I see that photo?”

“Are you going to give it back?”

He smiles, “of course.”

Hesitantly, you hold your arm out and hand the photo over to him.

It’s still mostly black but blotches of white and grey are starting to appear. He can begin to make out the snowflakes amongst the grey clouds of the sky and the contract of the scarf against his own skin. He thinks that… It's actually a rather nice photo of him. Usually, Niko has to try for ages to finally be happy with a photo of himself but this one captures him well. Not appearing too soft or harsh for the lens.

Perhaps if every photo of him were like this he’d be more well known in the football community. Of course, he doesn't care all too much about popularity but it certainly wouldn’t hurt to be well known.

He’s reaching out for a snowflake in the photo, a half sorta grin on his face. His eyes can’t really be seen through the mess of bangs but Niko thinks he prefers it that way. Some would call him out on it but it seems fine to him. And it seems fine to you as you’ve never said anything about it otherwise.

Finally, he hands the photo back over to you.

You reach into your pocket and pull out the compact from before. He peeks over your shoulder, surprised to see neither a mirror which he expected or makes. Instead, he sees three photos, similar to the one you’ve taken of him tucked in. One of the three photos looks slightly faded with yellow edges but otherwise in good condition.

“Can I look?” Niko asks.

“Hm?”

“Can I look at the photos?”

You turn to look at Niko, then back at the photos in the compact. You look torn and Niko wonders if he’s suddenly stepped over that invisible line. There is, in society, a line between oneself and everyone else. The delicacies of society and the individual is to figure out just where that line is for every person.

It seems that here is yours.

Melting after being in his hand for a little too long.

Eventually you hand the compact over to Niko.

The slightly faded photo is of a young boy whose expression seems to be a mix between a smile and scowl. Niko finds the expression quite relatable. He wonders if this is the childhood friend you’ve always talked so much about.

The next is a man with dual coloured hair. He’s resting his head on a dark table as he stares into the lens of a camera with a dreamy expression. Niko thinks he recognizes him but can’t quite place his name.

Lastly, there’s a salmon haired man who's been captured mid laugh, a bright look in his eyes. He’s younger than Niko is in the photo and seems a little like you. Filled with a sense of youth that Niko has long grown out of.

“So did you always want to be a photographer?” Niko asks, handing the compact back over to you.

“Well,” you hummed, “I did always want to see the world. I just sorta figured out the photography thing along the way. Did you always want to be a Football player?”

“I always enjoyed Football growing up and I guess somewhere along the way I realised my dream was to go professional.” Niko smiled, “guess we aren’t as different as I thought.”

“No,” you say, “we most certainly aren’t.”

Fall in love with an attentive heart.

[existentialcrisistime]

I would like to know more about your favourite Scottish indie/folk musicians, please.

I'm not gonna lie, after nearly twelve years up here I'm still just dipping my toes into the music, so I'm far from knowledgeable, but here's a non-exhauative list of bands & artists I've been enjoying:

Frightened Rabbit — of course, especially the albums The Midnight Organ Fight & Pedestrian Verse. Sad I never got properly into them at their peak, but I very much enjoy them now

Aidan Moffat (of the band Arab Strap) — his song/poem The Copper Top has been on loop in my head lately

One you've most likely heard of — Belle & Sebastian. One of the bands I loved when I moved up here, introduced to me by a friend, and I've still got a soft spot for their older songs now

Ballboy — possibly one of my all time favourite bands/artists, that I've loved for nearly two decades, and I've never met anyone else who knows of them without me introducing them. At least 50% songs mention being unable to sleep, I think, and with the main guy being Gordon McIntyre who I believe has a day job as a school headteacher, that absolutely tracks. Club Anthems 2001 & A Guide For The Daylight Hours are my favourite albums, but I adore them all. I've never seen them properly live, but I did see them play some Mountain Goats covers as part of a charity TMG cover festival in like 2015? and I caught Gordon McIntyre's solo album release gig the other year too (he's still writing songs about being unable to sleep)

Chrissy Barnacle — an artist I've never caught a headline gig of, but I must have caught her supporting at least five different bands over the years (including the aforementioned TMG covers event I believe). Great voice, deserves more than 45 Spotify listeners for sure

The Spook School — I got into these because a friend was/is dating one of the members, but I'm a massive fan now and they're great ! Very queer jangly indie-punk, they've split now (or rather, gone to the moon), but their tunes are excellent and their members are doing some great things individually

Admiral Fallow — I got into these guys purely through Spotify in the last year or so, and I'm yet to listen to their full discography, but the three songs constantly rattling around my brain are: Squealing Pigs (in my head that's an AOS Kirk song too), The Paper Trench, and Guest of the Government

Mogwai — another one you're more likely to have heard of. Definitely more post-rock than indie, or as I like to say, music to lie on floors to. Take Me Somewhere Nice was the first song I heard by them, shown to me by an ex before we started dating (so it must have been good). They also have a song called George Square Thatcher Death Party if that helps sway you. I was friends with I think the bassist's partner for a while (that's the thing about Scotland, it's two degrees of separation with everyone), and I've seen them live countless times. Albums close to my heart are Rock Action, Come On Die Young (CODY), and the Les Revenants soundtrack (an excellent show too)

I'm sure there are MANY more I'm missing, especially the 2010s Edinburgh indie scene that I always used to catch at small gigs and Record Store Day events when I lived there, but hopefully this is a good starting point and an introduction to a few bands you haven't yet heard of!

[ryanhamiltonwalsh]

I saw Megalopolis last night.

One of my favorite things is when an artist banks on earlier successes and cashes in that cred to take a huge creative swing, so in that sense, I love that this exists. It is also one of the biggest, most expensive messes I've ever seen on screen with much of the cast tonally delivering different varieties of "over the top" performances than all of the other characters, both main and secondary. Things that don't need explaining are intensely over-explained—there is literally a montage of spinning newspaper headlines coming at you—and things that desperately need explaining are not explained whatsoever. But the film is so excessive, so saturated with information, that you are discouraged from doing any reading between the lines or inferring things on your own because the message Francis Ford Coppola telegraphs to you from the jump is: EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW AND *CAN* KNOW ABOUT THIS MOVIE IS WHAT I SHOW YOU ON SCREEN. In that way, making a guess about why certain characters have superpowers, for instance, distinctly feels like you're writing Megalopolis fan fiction. There is nothing to suggest you can figure any of this out on your own, or should try to.

For 2/3rds of the movie, only a select amount of the theater audience was laughing at all of the patent absurdity they were being show with a straight face, but at a certain point, the tide shifted and everyone was of this mind. You could literally see people in the crowd often throwing up their hands in a "wait...what?" motion repeatedly. Voiceover narration comes and goes, sometimes paired with even more exposition literally written in stone. Sometimes it looks genuinely gorgeous, other times like a film student just bought a green screen.

I love the movie that Aubrey Plaza and Shia LaBeouf thought they were in; their performances are beautifully absurd and unhinged. Adam Driver, to me, only seemed truly comfortable during the sequence where he gets absolutely twisted on various substances and chants self-talk mantras like "When you jump into the unknown, you prove you are free" which is what FFC is doing here, and my admiration for that act is boundless. He could have ended his career with a small period piece all shot in one cabin and it would be lauded and celebrated but he would never forgive himself for not trying to make this. I truly gotta salute this legend for this move. But in the end, there's this enormous irony in the room at all times which is, basically:

This is a movie about literal 'world building' that is very bad at worldbuilding.

You couldn't make up a more dramatic fatal flaw for a film to have, right? Kind of beautiful. Kind of tragic. Forget about it, Francis, it's Megalopolis.

p.s. There is a 2 sec shot of the fate of Dustin Hoffman's character that is the funniest thing I've ever seen. One companion said of it, "It felt like a Kickstarter stretch goal. If we hit this amount, we'll film and show you the fate of Nush Berman."

p.s.s there is a scene where someone connects a USB drive to a computer and does so correctly on the first try. It's the most unrealistic thing that happens in a movie where a gun shot to head heals fully between acts.

[warmglowofsurvival]

Twenty One Pilots: From Bedroom Gigs To 'The Biggest Band In The World'

The Ohio band has paid their dues, and now, as MTV Artists To Watch, are gunning for global domination.

By James Montgomery (@positivnegativ)

Twenty One Pilots have one rather simple mission for 2013: global domination.

"Well, one of our goals for this year is to be a headliner, a 'hard ticket' as they say. We have the option to go out and be an opening band for a more established act, which obviously helps you gain fans and get exposure, but we're looking forward to being a headliner," singer Tyler Joseph explained. "And our dream? We want to be the biggest band in the world."

And if you think Joseph even blinked while saying this, well, then you probably don't know Twenty One Pilots (though given that they're the first pick in MTV's Artists To Watch campaign, that might change soon): The dynamic duo — it's Tyler on vocals, piano and keyboards, and manic masher Josh Dun behind the drumkit — hail from Columbus, Ohio and have clawed their way out of the epicenter of Buckeye Nation thanks to their mix of supreme confidence and a positively killer live show, one that brims with energy, acrobatics and theatrics and leaves both men absolutely spent each night. Of course, they'd have it no other way.

"We came from a place where we had to get people's attention. That started from playing in these bars, playing in these clubs, and making sure that even the three people who were there remembered us," Joseph said. "And now that we do have people's attention a little more, that aspect hasn't changed about us; we're still going to make sure you remember us when you come see us play.

"We've done everything. There was an older couple that had us come to their house, and we played in their bedroom one time, and there's the small clubs that people just go to hang out, they don't want to listen to music anyway," he continued. "And there's a lot of theatrical moments to our set, and a lot of people would see those moments, and they'd think we were just trying to make some sort of statement; but the truth is, we had to do that stuff in the beginning, just to get people to turn around. It's tough to compete with $3 pitcher night."

And while their shows pack plenty of punch, what's also earned Twenty One Pilots a fervent following is the deeply personal streak that runs through Joseph's lyrics. It's readily apparent on their new album, Vessel, which features songs like "Holding On To You" and "Guns For Hands," tracks that tackle tough subjects and serve as a cathartic release for the band's fans. And, not surprisingly, given his lofty ambitions, Joseph said that's been TOP's mission all along: to harness the power of music and, hopefully, help save some lives.

"Obviously music has helped me personally, and as much as I want to give back, it's not the main motivation. The main motivation is interacting every night with these people that are hurting; and it's not just kids, we get approached by all ranges of ages," he said. "Josh and I, we're able to go out and talk to people after the show, and we get to hear a lot of stories. We get to hear how our music has been affecting someone personally, and that's the stuff that fuels you. That's the stuff that justifies why you're in that city that night ... and talking to people every night and hearing their story is what inspires us."

[kimium]

Tell us your top five headcanons for Claude from Fire Emblem!

Oh! Thanks for the ask, friend! I'm always ready to talk about my favourite Golden Deer boy from Fire Emblem Three Houses/Hopes!

Remember: All of these are just my opinion and head canons. This is just for fun! Also, mild content warning: I have brief mention of Claude/Lorenz and Claude in open relationships.

My Top Five Head Canons for Claude from Fire Emblem Three Houses/Hopes

5. Claude likes spicy foods

Okay, this is one I cannot remember if it's confirmed by canon, but in my heart, Almyra has some very hot, spicy dishes. I think Claude can consume quite a bit of spicy food without any discomfort, which I think the vast majority of his house cannot handle. The only one who is strong enough to mostly keep up with him in the Golden Deer is Raphael.

4. Claude's eyes glow when his Crest activates. Also, his Crest is on his body like a birthmark.

Yeah, I know this is one of those widespread headcanons, but it's one I love with all my heart and soul. I'm so weak to magical power tropes that it's not even funny. I sincerely wish that when Claude (and any other person with a Crest) activates a critical hit his eyes glowed. The birthmark thing is just for aesthetic, but could you imagine the absolute Drama a Crest birthmark would add to Faerghus? That's easily an entire new layer for me to consider with say Sylvain's family situation.

3. After Claude gets together with his significant other if anyone gets "too close" to them, he's poisoning them with a case of Very Bad Food Poisoning

This idea stems from conversations I've had with @someobscurereference. While our conversations for this particular head canon are in relation to Lorenz, I think this can apply to whoever Claude is with. Anyways, I love the idea of Claude sitting in some Boring Meeting and watching some official lean "too close" to his significant other and deciding "This person deserves my Tummy Hurt Too Much" Poison. Naturally, Claude will poison this person so nothing can be linked back to him, but his staff are suspicious. However, since he pays them well with benefits and ample vacation time, they keep their mouths shut. This is 100% for the humour as Hilda is 100% aware of what's happening and tells Claude to "relax a bit, please".

2. Claude is 100% wants to support Ignatz's dream to become an artist

I think out of all my head canons, this one is the most self-indulgent. Ignatz's struggle with what he believes he should do VS what he wants to do is a struggle I think is very relatable to many people. While there is never an easy answer, I like to imagine that once the war is over, Ignatz can pursue his art goals and dreams. He definitely has the wealthy friends to back him up and give him the space and room to grow while making sure he's financially well off.

Now, I say this is a self-indulgent head canon because in addition to this, I am a multi-shipper. I have too many ideas of Claude in an open relationship with some of his Golden Deer. (Basically Claude has to pull at least once a "Draw me like one of your French girls" on Ignatz.)

1. Claude accidentally starts a rumour that he and Dimitri are "secret lovers".

I cannot tell you how many conversations in the past I've had with ObscureReference where we've joked about this. This head canon stems from the differences between not just Claude and Dimitri, but their culture. Mostly with Faerghus which has very stout traditions, loyalty, devotion, etc. but also feel like the kind of place where Dimitri accidentally shows some ankle and it causes a public scandal.

Anyways, Claude's joking/flirty nature and Dimitri's polite redirect while hiding his flustered response is a recipe for headlines that read "IS THE KING OF FAERGHUS IN A SECRET RELATIONSHIP WITH THE LEADER OF THE LEICESTER ALLIANCE???"

However, since this headline runs in a tabloid magazine, no one takes this seriously. What this does spawn are romance novels where the two main leads are suspiciously modelled after Dimitri and Claude. (Sylvain 100% finds the most "trashy" ones and reads them aloud dramatically while Ingrid and Ashe are Dying on the Couch, ready to kick him out of their book club.)

This rumour is 100% not true (unless you want it to be). As soon as Claude finds out about this, he's Crying with Laughter.

And there you have it! My five head canons about Claude! I hope you like them!!! Let me know, friend!

[cyncity2000]

I posted 1,221 times in 2022

That's 141 more posts than 2021!

165 posts created (14%)

1,056 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@salemruinseverything

@combeauferre

@sithiegoodness

@castielsupernatural

@twelvefifteencomic

I tagged 1,193 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#i like (the idea of) queue - 567 posts

#bastille - 127 posts

#send my regards to super hell - 110 posts

#video - 81 posts

#spn - 58 posts

#tiktok - 53 posts

#jill gets asks - 47 posts

#writing shit - 44 posts

#charlie barnes - 36 posts

#destiel - 35 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#so when it went back to paper for a bit i’d just take entire plates of fruit and dessert with me when i left 🤷‍♀️ sometimes real food too

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

yes i’m totally normal about woody & his dad doing a lil pub gig with dan and charlie and proceeding to play teenage dirtbag together, during which dan comes up to the mic with his phone open to the lyrics and then proceeds to immediately leave his microphone and go share with charlie instead for literally no reason. i’m fine <3 just . look at this shit

53 notes - Posted April 17, 2022

#4

ok but i am CRYING at this headline

57 notes - Posted January 6, 2022

#3

this was too long for twitter but honestly i was pleasantly surprised about the publicity for heartstopper because i expected everyone on twitter to be like "wELL if every single actor doesn't immediately come out to everyone then how do we KNOW all the queer characters are actually being played by queer actors hmMM??" bc yknow. the internet is just Like That 🙃

and heartstopper's response (bc they almost certainly anticipated this) was literally just like "we have a queer cast, trust us, and not a single person in the cast owes you any more information than that. not to MENTION we go above and beyond to show you that this tv series was CREATED not only by an openly queer author who was given FULL control to write the entire screen adaptation of their own graphic novels, but also by a openly queer director who specifically made sure to hire as many queer workers as possible for every. other. department of the show. because yes, it's super important that queer actors play queer characters; but it's even MORE important that the representation extends FAR beyond the people you see on screen."

bc THAT IS HOW YOU HAVE GOOD REPRESENTATION. NOT forcing all of your actors to spend every single interview fielding questions about their own personal gender & sexual identities. good representation is making sure that―unlike the majority of films and tv shows, sadly―if you look beyond the main cast, the roles of director/producer/writer/photographer/makeup artist/crew member/etc are ACTUALLY fulfilled by a diverse group of talented people. true representation doesn't stop at the actors, or the portrayal of characters. it goes all the way up the ladder to everyone making the movie/tv show/etc happen in the first place. change can't happen long-term unless "older," well-established people in the industry (like euros lyn) use their position to create opportunities for fresh, new, young, diverse talent.

tldr heartstopper is a brilliant example of how to properly create a series both by and for the lgbtq+ community, and i was SO relieved to see all the publicity revolve around the story and the actors and the importance of representation WITHOUT requiring anybody who wasn't already out to clarify anything about themselves.

(ramble mostly inspired by this and sourced from this, if you haven't watched the video you 100% should !!! also ofc special shoutout to kit for taking absolutely no shit from twitter)

70 notes - Posted May 16, 2022

#2

me, busy screaming about bim & senab maybe going on the US tour with bas

meanwhile, bastille:

85 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

ok slight tour spoiler ahead but: during one segment he asked us to pick a noise and an influencer. someone said ‘boink’ and he was like ‘somehow that still sounds sexual’ and then we got to influencer and he was like ‘oh my god did someone say PHIL??’ so the sentence ended up being something about a secret society called the boink run by phil lester

and THEN he fucking says (something like) ‘joke’s on you, me and phil have been in boink together from the START!!!’ and. dan. my dude. YOU were the one who said boink sounded sexual do you not realize what that Sounds Like 💀

172 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[miashyperfixations]

ARTIO (OPENING FOR HONEY REVENGE'S EUROBEEAN TOUR)

22.05.2024 @ The Deaf Institute, Manchester (250 Capacity)

Written June 2024

Artio is a band that has been on my radar for a while now , having seen them for South Arcade back in September. They released their debut album, Babyface, earlier this year, and  it’s definitely one of my favourites this year, so far. I was first introduced to Artio via @artbyamixx around this time last year when they released their ‘Pyrokid’ EP, and although I don’t actively listen to them as much, they’re without a doubt, some of the most talented people I’ve ever met. They’re based in the north of England, which is refreshing nowadays with a lot of successful artists moving down to London for their career. 

For their set, they played a few songs from their album, as well as a few from the ‘Pyrokid’ EP, which I really enjoyed as ‘Hush Money’ is one of my absolute favourites of theirs and seeing it live for the second time was unreal [clip in above video]. Rae’s vocals blow me out of my mind every time I hear them, their vocal capacity is so crazy and I’m in constant awe of them.  I had already heard all of the other songs before when they opened for South Arcade but hearing ‘Head In The Sand, Finger On The Trigger’ live was unbelievable. It’s so fun to see bands on stage actually enjoying themselves and with such high-energy stage presence, it’s clear that this band loves what they do.

After Honey Revenge’s set, Jai & Ieuan were hanging around and selling merch, so we went to talk to them, before meeting Devin & Donny. @artbyamixx had bought her empty box of sertraline medication and asked for the entire band to sign it, which they did happily [3:11 in this youtube tour diary video], as it is also a song title of theirs. During which, I was also able to chat to Ieuan a little about music production as he is the main producer on the Babyface record. The album is one of my favourites music production-wise. I absolutely love how most of the songs flow into one another and keep themes - it’s hard to tell where some songs cut off!! 

The band have plans to open for American artist, Mothica, when she comes across the pond for her headline tour in the autumn. I should probably try and go to see Artio at a headline show sometime soon, I’ve seen them twice now, both times opening for another of my favourite bands. They’re all extremely talented and I’m sure that there’s great success in the future for this band.

[whatsonmedia]

Thursday Thrill: Top 3 Music Festivals Happening Right Now

March may be coming to an end but there’s still plenty of time to catch some amazing music festivals! Whether you’re looking for snowy slopes, sunny beaches or a vibrant city escape, we’ve got you covered. Here’s a sneak peek at 3 of the hottest music festivals happening right now: Snowboxx 2024 16 - 23 March The wintery festival encompasses a ski trip, a mega music festival for EDM lovers and a holiday all rolled in.  Offering affordable packages for the best party with your mucks.  Even for solo festival lovers who are for a bit of an adventure of the piste. The ultimate mountain party takes you from the snowy peaks of the French Alps into the sparkling heart of picturesque Avoriaz and the Snowboxx Village.  Featuring two huge main stage events to get your week off with a bang on the apres-ski, heading for the heights on-mountain concerts, raves taking place in igloos, and tropical themed waterpark parties. If you’re up for an absolute wild and wicked week in France this one is right up your street.  The main stage really is one-of-a-kind. And it be hosting some of the biggest acts in the world all in walking distance from your accommodation. Furthermore, Snowboxx hosts epic bottomless brunches where festival goers get pissed on the piste. This year’s line-up features Rudimental, Netsky, The Streets, Ben Hemsley, Krafty Kuts, Girls Don't Sync, Becky Hill, Danny Howard. Also Gok Wan, Jazzy (Singer) The Menendez Brothers, Jodie Harsh, Goddard, Lens, A Skillz, CJ Beatz plus many more Tickets & More Info Ultra Music Festival 22 – 24 March Miami's biggest EDM festival returns for its annual state-side outdoor offering on the festival calendar. Hosting one of the largest crowds of festival lovers. Ultra Music Festival Miami 2024, one of state-sides largest outdoor EDM festivals off the global festival calendar. Promising an unforgettable electrifying extravaganza! Drawing thousands to Bayfront Park for lovers of festivals and an all weekend danceathon. Festival-goers can expect a euphoric fusion of pulsating beats and mesmerizing visuals, from a global line up of elite DJs igniting the stages with unparalleled energy. With a diverse lineup spanning genres, festival-goers can immerse themselves in a kaleidoscope of electronic music culture, forging unforgettable memories amidst the vibrant Miami skyline. If you need a break from the cold and wet weather the city's favourable weather, its stunning sunshine makes it one of your top festival experiences. Where a sea of revellers, numbering in the tens of thousands, descend upon the festival grounds, creating an electrifying atmosphere of love, peace and unity having the best time of their life. Ultra Music Festival boasts multiple stages, each hosting iconic performances that push the boundaries of creativity and innovation. As one of the world's most prestigious electronic music festivals, Ultra Miami continues to captivate audiences globally, cementing its status as a cultural phenomenon. It's a must-attend event for music enthusiasts worldwide. The DJ line-up is flown in from around the globe, with headliners. There are so many headliners including Adam Beyer, Calvin Harris, David Guetta, Fisher, Camelphat, Afrojack, Tiesto and more. Tickets & More Info Lollapalooza Brazil 22 - 24 Mar Lollapalooza Brazil, offers a dynamic fusion of music and cultural celebration.  Calling on festival-goers to an exhilarating experience unlike any other. Nestled in the heart of São Paulo, this iconic festival transforms the sprawling grounds into a vibrant tapestry of sound and spectacle. At Lollapalooza Brazil, festival-goers can dive into an unforgettable festival experience from a diverse lineup showcasing an eclectic mix of musical genres. Started from chart-topping headliners to emerging artists on the cusp of stardom. With multiple stages pulsating with energy, there's something for every musical palate, ensuring an unforgettable journey of sonic exploration. Beyond the music, Lollapalooza Brazil embraces diversity and inclusivity, featuring immersive art installations, culinary delights, and interactive experiences. It celebrate the rich tapestry of Brazilian culture. From savouring local delicacies to exploring art installations that ignite the imagination. Every moment is an opportunity for discovery and connection. With its vibrant atmosphere and palpable energy, Lollapalooza Brazil transcends mere entertainment, evolving into a cultural phenomenon that unites music lovers from across the globe. Whether dancing under the stars or forging new friendships amidst the crowds, the spirit of Lollapalooza Brazil ignites a sense of camaraderie. The excitement that lingers long after the final note fades away. Each year the festival brings some of the biggest names in music to South America that fans will love as they rock out at the legendary Interlagos Speedway. The line-up features a line-up of global elite world famous live music artists. Also DJs and locals including Kings Of Leon, Dom Dolla, blink-182, MK, SZA, Hozier, Above & Beyond. Moreover, some others artist: Arcade Fire, From House To Disco,Ella Whatt, MC Soffia, Mary Mesk, DJ Suburbia, BK Go Lollaloopie! Tickets & More Info Read the full article

[concerthopperblog]

Beartooth & Trivium Co-Headlining Tour featuring Malevolence & Archetypes Collide

2023 is starting off strong with these amazing tour announcements, with Beartooth & Trivium topping the list of must-see shows this year! Both bands stem from two slightly different worlds and bring a different fan base to this tour. This musical diversity is exciting to see how the fan bases intermingle together. I love seeing different styles of artists performing together, especially with a band like Malevolence since they are a much heavier band and having Archetypes Collide’s support since they play rock too. Buffalo Riverworks was a great venue to watch these powerful artists perform, there was an area for you to go upstairs and watch the show from a new perspective. The Tour kicked off on May 1st, and they are going to keep rocking out all across the U.S. until June 15th.

Archetypes Collide is a rock band from Arizona. They started back in 2014, Archetypes Collide only has two EPs out currently and one self-titled album released this year. After a few years of releasing singles and touring, the band was noticed by Beartooth’s own Oshie Bichar, which led them down the road to eventually being signed to Fearless Records in 2022. I would absolutely love to know more about this band, and what inspired them to start their own band. During the show, the singer Kyle Pastor was very interactive with their fans. I saw online at other shows that he likes to jump in the crowd and dance with all of their fans! The whole band had a ton of energy when it came to performing. I can’t wait to see what their future holds.

Setlist:

“Parasite”

“Destiny”

“One Step Closer” (Linkin Park cover)

“My Own Device”

“Fade Away”

“What If I Fall”

“Your Misery”

Malevolence is an English heavy metal band from South Yorkshire. They started back in 2010, and guitarists Josh Baines and Konan Hall bonded over a mutual love for heavy metal. The boys started playing live when they were only Twelve years old. The band is described as a weird perfect mix of metal and hardcore music to be played. In 2013, they released their first album Reign of Suffering, and have released two more EPs and albums. The band has also been signed to multiple different record labels until they decided to open their own called MLVLTD Music. The band has played alongside many heavy bands such as Knocked Loose, Dying Fetus, Kublai Khan, Jinjer, and more. During their performance you could feel how passionate they are to be playing music, I loved watching them spin & jump around. They got the crowd to do a giant circle pit in the middle of the room, which was fun to watch. Can’t wait to catch them next time they come back to the U.S.

Setlist:

“Malicious Intent”

“Life Sentence”

“Still Waters Run Deep”

“Self Supremacy”

“Higher Place”

“Keep Your Distance”

“On Broken Glass”

Trivium is a heavy metal band from Florida that formed in 1999. Since their debut album Ember to Inferno, the band has released ten studio albums and over twenty singles. In 2019, the band was also nominated for a Grammy for best metal performance. The band has also gone through many lineup changes since they started playing, their lineup currently consists of Matt Heafy, Corey Beaulieu, Paolo Gregoletto, & Alex Bent. Matt Heafy has been the main lyricist since they started in 1999, he has been influenced by many bands such as; Metallica, Pantera, Ozzy Osbourne, and Machine Head. Before the band even came out on the stage, you could see the excitement from the fans, they had giant dragon statues on both sides of the stage and other decorations to set the scene. Their stage presence was amazing, Heafy was jumping around singing his heart out while Corey whipped his hair around.

“Rain”

“Like Light To Flies”

“Strife”

“Feast of Fire”

“Built to Fall”

“Down From the Sky”

“The Sin and the Sentence”

“Until the World Goes Cold”

“No Way Back Just Through”

“The Heart From Your Hate”

“In Waves”

“Pull Harder on the Strings of Your Martyr”

Beartooth is a hardcore punk band from Ohio. They debuted their first EP Sick in 2013, they have four studio albums and at least ten singles out to date. They just released their single “Sunshine!” on April 19th, 2023. Beartooth has been described as Metalcore, but there has been a lot of influence from Caleb’s previous band Attack! Attack! The band has also been nominated for four different awards since they started playing music. During the show we got to go up on the balcony to watch the show from a different perspective, you could see the fans down below having the time of their lives, moshing their hearts out and singing like it’s nobody’s business. I love seeing Beartooth when they go on tour, the band is passionate about playing, and right out of the gate, Caleb Shomo was going hard singing meaningful lyrics.

Setlist:

“Devastation”

“Disease”

“Body Bag”

“Sunshine!”

“The Lines”

“Beaten in Lips”

“Bad Listener”

“In Between”

“You Never Know”

“Hated”

“Riptide”

“The Past Is Dead”

“The Last Riff”