#this was just supposed to be practice for drawing hands

[hypnagogics]

archery coach!ellie whose hands convey more words than her mouth. instead of molding your form with spoken instructions or simply telling you what to do, she takes the liberty to pose you herself, as if you were a prized doll.

"you gotta stand up straighter, and make sure you pull with your back and not with your arm. you're supposed to feel the stretch right here." she jabs in the middle of your shoulder blades with her middle finger, sending a chill down your spine. she's so close, you can't bear to look her in the eye. you briskly nod, and try to feel the thing she was describing.

aim, draw, shoot, and you hit the target. bullseye. "yeah, exactly like that!" she hesitates with her hands outstretched for half a beat, her eyes scanning yours to see if she can ""instruct"" you some more.

her roughened palms graze your ribcage feather-lightly, while she angles you to one side. her breath tickles your earlobe and you think to yourself, when did she get so close, but before you have to process her right hand rises to gingerly run along your jawbone, catching you off guard.

"this is your anchor point, make sure your drawing hand makes contact here, and then pull back—don't forget to breathe—and release." none of this was in actuality even the tiniest bit erotic, but the commanding timbre of her voice sent a fiery blush to the spot she caressed.

when you're struggling with a piece of your equipment, let's say your sling, she's quick to fix it for you, fiddling around with your fingers and slipping the shoelace loop back around your thumb. after making sure youre all set, she retreats to observe you shoot on your own.

you think you're hallucinating when you hear a husky comment, unmistakably in her voice, "thats it, baby. just like i taught you."

ignore me lol bored at practice have this shit thing while i work on real stuff and fistfight my perfectionism demons

[aninipanin1]

I love your manager reader fics 💕💖💕

I'm curious about adult manager reader first interaction with the world 5 tho 👀 you only write them a bit in passing but I love to read more about em

MISS RIGHT

Notes: I am so glad you asked for this AHAHAHAH and thank you so much for the support

"You all will be staying here until the matches start, which is scheduled until the end of the second selection. You will be alerted of when this is, so as of now, you all can do whatever it is you wish, even heading out of the facility if ever."

Anri nodded her head at the five players from all over the world, trying her best to make sure her English was atleast understandable. The players did not seem to pay attention to her words all that much, just nodding off at the brief explanation. After all, they were just after the check and well, a few of their own personal agendas. Not anything serious. And well, Anri did not mind at all, leaving them the moment all was said and done.

The facility was rather big, well it was big from the outside but on the inside, it was definitely bigger. Especially since they heard it housed more than 200 teenagers, who all lived here. Well, surely it has to be really big to be comfortable, or it's not and its conditions are inhumane which would definitely get the authorities involved, especially since most of the participants were minors. So that means it was the former.

And with that, each of the 5 foreign players headed somewhere to quell their boredom.

LEONARDO LUNA

The Spanish player found himself resting in one of the lounge areas of the separated stratum for the staffs to work on to avoid any of the players seeing him and finding out the second plan for their second selection.

He scrolled through his phone mindlessly, finding it a tad bit boring since there was really nothing new about the topics that he liked in general. And he would have continued to be bored until he heard a minor 'thud' hit the floor near him. He admitted, it made his heart jump, and his head whipped in the direction immediately.

Thankfully, it was not as bad as he thought it was, seeing the thud was of a huge pile of papers instead of the person themself slipping on the floor. Like the supposed gentleman he was, he walked to yoh and helped with gathering the scattered paperwork.

"Thank you so much! Sorry for the bother!"

You said, continuously bowing her head while scampering to pick up the paper. It was in Japan's native language, so Luna had no way of understanding what the words were. However, understanding the apologetic tone and the many bows that he knows are respect of some sort in the culture of Japan, he had a vague idea at least.

'Must be something like thank you in Japanese...?'

"It's nothing, Miss-"

He cut himself off, though, when he looked down at the contents of the papers in his hands. It was printed with different japanese texts, all he could not understand, but there are drawings and sketches about some sort of strategy for a real 11 vs 11 match, probably for practice sessions.

But, the placements of the positions were definitely... interesting and even unconventional, to say the least. But, it peeked his interest enough for him to ask you about it.

"Hmm, may I ask Miss. Did you make these?"

Realizing that you were talking to THE Leonardo Luna made you nervous. Clearing your throat, you nodded and spoke in English to try and hopefully cross the language barrier.

"Yes, I did, Sir. Um, I'm the manager and a helper of Ego-san when it comes to training the players."

"Hmm."

He hummed, and that only made the nerves worse. You knew he was judging the positions of the practice sheets you made, which were all just theories you made and have yet to test out. But, here it was, being looked at by a world class player.

'Out of all my work, why this one?!' You panicked in your mind.

However, instead of the scrutiny you thought it would face, he looked to be impressed. Eyes moving about the paper and his mind seeming to run about how each scenario may work, and needless to say, he was impressed with how you formed such a creative way of arranging players with differing talents and skills.

He then looked at you. For someone who does not look like much, you exceeded his expectations. He'd give it to you, you have a creative yet logical and sound mind, a mix of opposing characteristics but meshed well in the sport.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Luna?"

"No. Nothing's wrong. Just continue being creative, Ms. I like the way your brain works."

He said, leaning close to your face with a smirk filled with mischief and a hint of amazement. Huh, looks like this place is not that bad. He thought the people in here either ranged from crazy to idiotic, but, there are still some people here that is worth the attention.

Needless to say, your first impression on him was more than good.

ADAM BLAKE

It was a few days before the end of the second selection was set, and you were as busy as ever. Stopping by a water fountain set up around the facility, you stopped for a moment to refill your water tumbler while balancing your tablet.

It did not take long before you finished the small task, but before you left the place, you felt someone behind you, his closeness apparent from the way you felt his breath touch the nape of your skin and his body slightly against your back as if your sixth sense themselves felt the pinch of the person's presence.

"Well, well...I did not know there was a beautiful manager around here."

You stopped typing on your tablet before turning around to find yourself face to face with the infamous English player. He was almost twice the size of you, having the advantage of playing a sport professionally and all.

And that fact intimidated you, gulping at the flirtatious smirk on his face as he leaned even more to you while you pulled back to try and avoid his face as much as you could.

"Um, pardon, sir-"

"Adam is fine, sweethcheeks. Damn, you're even prettier up close."

'What is even happening...'

The proximity made you even more nervous and confused. Out of all the people, it was you that he had to approach? And besides, does he not feel shame that there are cameras around the facility or the fact that someone may just pass by and walk in on you two like this? Oh, the scandal that might ensue will ruin your whole career!

And you being quite responsible, knew that the only way to avoid that was to avoid the man himself. So you did just that, calm and sweetly letting him down as best as you can without having to anger him or potentially your and his career.

"Um, I'm so sorry, Mr. Blake, but I have to go and do my work." You tried to walk to his side and escape, only for him to slide in front of you again, the smirk on his face growing wider.

"Hey now, there's no need to be scared. I don't bite, unless you want me to."

He used the fact that he was double your size, trapping you to receiving his flirtatious words and gazes. Truthfully, before he saw you, he was starting to get bored due to the lack of entertainment in the facility. So, when he heard there was a female manager walking around the facility that was his age, he wanted to see what you were about.

And well, at first he was disappointed. You looked...plain. Not bad looking, in fact, you were pretty, but very much like a plain Jane. Maybe it was because he was used to seeing the most beautiful of actors and models that he is a bit insentivized with appearances, and that was how he felt.

But, the moment you did catch his attention was when he heard Luna start to talk about you. The Spanish player would always mention you in passing conversations about football and just general topics, he seemed to genuinely love to talk about you and about how you were supposedly smart and unique in your own ways.

At first, he was annoyed at this. He just could not shut up about you, can't he? But, he wanted to look at this from another perspective. So, here he was now, trying his best to find out what was so interesting about you in the best way he knew possible. He was bored too, so why not?

"Um please, I really have to go."

"Ah-ah, not yet, sweetheart. Why not stay here for a bit? I can-"

But to his surprise, you were not taking 'no's seriously, only your job was serious in your mind and at that current moment, you really needed to continue it. So, you crouched and ran out of his hold before scurrying away like a skittish animal.

"I'm so sorry, sir! But I really needed to go. Bye."

You kept the politeness before vanishing through the many halls of the facility, leaving him starstrucked. In all his life, there had been many instances of him being rejected. Sure, most of the time the girls were more than willing to flirt with him, but that does not mean there have been a few share who immediately turned him down.

So why was this different?

It was probably the way your eyes looked. Instead of the usual flushed expression followed by an annoyed tone, instead he was met with only a distracted haze in your eyes. Like, your mind did not even set in the fact that he was flirting with you, that you were too focused in whatever you were about to do.

Like you were close to clueless about his intentions. Or maybe, you just did not care at all, finding your job much more fulfilling and important to pay attention to.

And this ignited something in him. He always did love a bit of a challenge in everything, especially women. He'll take on the challenge of making you start to pay attention to him, to the point that you will be distracted by him.

'Hm, let's see how much you interest me even more as time passes, Miss Y/n.'

PABLO CAVAZOS

"You mean, I don't look good in green?"

The Argentinian frowned at the advice, not in a malicious way that he disregarded your opinion, but in a disappointed way that one of his main favourite colors to wear clashed with his bright hair.

"That doesn't mean you can't wear it anymore though. I think a muted green would look really good, just not neon green."

You added with a smile. Out of all the players in World 5, you became the closest with Cavazos a lot (with a few exceptions), and this was due to how in some strange way, you two had a lot in common. From your likes in food and entertainment to the love of cute things and even some of your habits.

And that all started with this certain conversation when the player walked out of his room wearing a neon green sweater, and you being you, started to talk about possible combinations of color that may fit him as well as color theory for some reason.

"But, I think monochrome fits you the best. So your eyes and hair can pop even more!"

Now, Pablo was a man who knew exactly what he wanted, and he did not care for what other people usually told him. Due to his eccentric looks, he was always the point of attention, someone people would pay attention to immediately in a large room whether it was for good or not.

He has been told most of his life how to present himself. What are the best ways to suit his features with something. To wear something that would get the attention off of his hair and eyes and instead have it mix in with the rest of his outfit, or to even cut his hair so he won't be as distracting. But, one moment, it's as if he had some sort of epiphany.

He realized that those people, were not looking out for him as he thought they initially. Instead, they wanted him to stop shining because of who he really is. They wanted to take his star quality and shine away, the things that made him unique out of everyone in the world.

So he stopped listening to what everyone said, and instead, he tried to try and stand out more, to take more space in the eyes of the people, strangers or not. To reject any type of rejection towards his true self.

Atleast, that's what he should do with you. To tell you to stop giving him opinions that just take away to who he truly is. But, instead he listens intently, nodding and even sparing a smile at some lighthearted jokes you'd mix in.

Why? He doesn't know why, either. Maybe it was the tone of your voice. One filled with happiness and genuineness, not that of condescension. You just gave genuine advice, not force them unto him, the shine in your eyes telling him there was no malice or want to suppress him, but instead a longing to find him succeed in even something so small like clothing choices.

So, he listens to you ramble about color theory and takes into mind what you were telling him, even at the expense of changing his fashion choices.

And you continued your mindless chatter, until you realized that you did not have any position to tell a man of his fame and standing what to do, when everything he currently did seemed to work.

On reflex, you tried covering your mouth, gasping a bit at the realization.

"I'm so sorry for babbling too much! I-"

But, he only cut you off. Taking your wrist in his hand, his face remaining emotionless and cool as he just shook his head.

"No, no. I like all your advice. Please continue."

DADA SILVA

"How am I even going to carry all of these?"

You mumbled as you looked at the large boxes that were in the storage room, all stacked upon each other. You can already feel the strain on your back and bones at the prospect of carrying the heavy boxes and transferring them to another room.

The current storage room was deemed a bit big to just be a storage room, so to make use of the space, everything in it will be transferred in a different and smaller room. Unfortunately for you, you were the only one currently available to make the move.

Not complaining anymore, you used your brain to make the move a bit easier. Using carts and other contraptions to move the heavy boxes. But of course, even with this, moving dozens of heavy boxes was not an easy feat for one woman.

"Ugh, just a few more...and then maybe, I can get some rest."

But to your surprise, the box in your hand that was a point of struggle for you was taken out of your hands gently. Blinking at the sudden predicament, you looked up to find a familiar figure standing tall, his arms carrying the boxes with ease as if they did not have any significant weight to them.

"Pardon for the sudden intrusion, but I can't just let a lady continue struggling."

"Oh, Sir Silva, you didn't have to-"

"It's nothing. It's only a few boxes."

He shrugged and continued the walk, you led the way, hand still pushing the rest of the boxes on the cart now that your hands were free. If you were not gonna lie, you definitely felt somewhat nervous.

Why would you not be? You let someone like THE Dada Silva help you out in something so miniscule. Sure, he offered, but he was legit being paid millions by the facility and the JFU, and you were letting him do peasant work? Oh, how the heads will kill you if they find out the stunt you pulled.

Nevertheless, you gave a bright smile filled with gratitude.

"Thank you so much for the help, Mr. Silva...I am REALLY sorry for inconveniencing you."

The man could not help the soft smile that pulled on his face. The look in your eyes, even the fidgety look in your figure, definitely showed how genuine you were about the gratitude and apology. Not that he wanted one. It was just common sense for a man to help a lady that he could see was in need.

But, it did feel a little lighter and more fun when you gave him the sweetest thank you and smile he was ever given by anyone.

You had been the talk between the rest of his fellow players. From Luna's neverending praise for your intelligence and creativity, to Cavazos' rain of appreciation and mentions of your open and kind personality, and even Blake's nonstop plans of wanting to impress you himself, and supposedly redeem himself in your eyes, whatever that meant.

So, naturally, he got curious, too. All the words they threw about you were all a jumbled mess, different perspectives of different people towards one individual. And so, due to this, he cannot really make out who you really were or what type of person you were.

So, he went to investigate himself, not wanting to rely on hearsay. He approached you, finding it a good moment to see you struggling with the boxes. It can be less awkward when he has another reason to talk with you other than his own curiousity!

And, he can safely say he can definitely see what each of them talked about. Your words carried hidden intelligence to them, your words being softly spoken yet had a sharpness to them that only someone with a deep understanding of the topic can ever hold.

He can also see that you were sweet to the core. Just your aura alone exuded that same kindness your voice did, making him ease to you. When was the last time he had a very innocent interaction with someone, especially a woman, like this again?

Now, it was not that he villainized everybody around him. No, he knew some people who were genuinely good. But most of them were only good to him due to some sort of agenda that hid deep in their hearts. Whether it is a professional relation filled with nothing but serious countenance and formal conversations, or a more give and take relationship, one that was a bit more intimate, but not something genuine. Instead, it was all about what to receive off of pretending to be in a more personal relationship, either supposed friendship or romantic relations.

But with this, it feels so much more freeing. So much more chill and flowy, like the careless waves of the ocean. One that was there just because of mutual respect towards each other as human beings who have complex emotions and feelings.

"Thank you for the small conversation, Mr. Silva! It definitely cured my boredom in moving these boxes."

"Like I said, it's nothing, Ms. Y/n. I had fun too."

For now, there was nothing much to it. Just two people having fun talking to the other, finding the difference and similarities between the other entertaining enough for the genuine laughter.

But, who's to say this moment filled with a barrage of kaleidoscope colors is a one-off thing that can never repeat in this supposed monotonous facility?

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Y/n: *Accidentally rizzing the four World 5 members.*

Meanwhile, Y/n with Loki: You're really cute. I can adopt you too like the other 300 under boys I already adopted-

Loki: ...pardon?

I hate school so much, but your girl has to keep her honour student shebang cause why not?

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[anodetoswag]

𝔎𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔦𝔡𝔬𝔰𝔠𝔬𝔭𝔦𝔠

𝐼𝓉𝑜𝓈𝒽𝒾 𝑅𝒾𝓃 & 𝐼𝓉𝑜𝓈𝒽𝒾 𝒮𝒶𝑒

❀﹒Notes: Childhood friends, coming of age, angst (shocker), humor, fluff maybe if you squint. open ending.

𓍯 W.C. 2.2 K

Synopsis: Growing up and growing apart seem to go hand in hand.

The Reds

“Are you sure I can’t come?”

Sae shakes his head. The back and forth had been going on for a while and the brothers were both refusing to budge. “It’s a horror movie, you won’t like that sort of thing.” 

That was just one reason to not take Rin along. Though Sae wasn’t eager to reveal the other, more crucial one. 

The older Itoshi steps back, giving himself a once over in the mirror. Rin continues his whining in the background but the sound of the doorbell draws both boys to pause their respective actions in favor of peeking out of the door of their room to see you climbing the stairs two at a time. 

“Are you done yet or what?”

Rin’s mood seems to sour further at your appearance for it often followed his brother being too preoccupied with you and seemingly forgetting about him completely.  

“Why’re you here?” It’s no secret that your mere existence doesn’t sit well with the younger Itoshi. Not like you try to get along with him either. If anything, you seem to take some obscene joy in ruffling his feathers. 

Sae shakes his head in disapproval. “Don’t talk to them like that.” 

Rin huffs, crossing his arms across his chest. You grin, ever the opportunist at pestering the boy. “That’s right, don’t take that tone with your elders.”

“You’re the biggest baby I know,” Rin fumes. 

“Rin,” his brother warns. This has the child throwing you a nasty look while muttering ‘they started it.’ but otherwise stays quiet. 

You pull Sae out of the house, talking about something Rin isn’t particularly interested in knowing. Your figures fade over the horizon and part of Rin wonders if his brother likes you a little more than he likes him. 

The Oranges

Rin doesn’t understand why Sae was so adamant on having you accompany them to the airport. He’s young but even he understands this is one of those family only occasions. Only those select few that Sae holds closest to his heart. Then again, maybe Sae does hold you close to his heart. 

Is it more than him though? Is the nameless connection you share with Sae deeper than his own fraternal bond? Soccer is one thing they both adore, Rin likes to think it’s their thing; a secret that cannot; or rather should not be tainted by any outsider. 

You play with them often. Not as good as Sae but as far as Rin is concerned, nobody is as good as Sae. You’re better at it than Rin though. Sae tells him that he just needs more practice. His mother tries to placate him by saying it’s because you’re older. That when he’s older, he’ll get better. Personally, he prefers Sae’s reasoning. 

Rin has heard Sae’s friends tease him about you. His brother only ignores them and you turn your head the other way if you ever notice them making faces at you. You’re both similar in that sense, Rin supposes that���s why you two get along. 

But soccer obviously trumps whatever silly schtick you and Sae have. Once he gets better at it, there’s no doubt Sae will prefer him over you. 

“I got you snacks for the trip,” you hold out the bag with thinly veiled self gratification. There’s a distinctly drawn Kazuhiko on the post-aid taped to it. 

Sae takes the bag from you with a word of gratitude and an amused smile. Rin wonders briefly if he is currently bearing witness to an intimate moment. Unlike the cheesy scenes on TV, there isn’t a kiss shared between the two of you; nothing that denotes affection outwardly but the way you look at each other is enough. Rin doesn’t quite grasp the labyrinthine details of this dynamic but he can make out there’s something.

Even as Sae walks towards the gates of the airport, you shed not a single tear but only wave until you lose sight of him. Rin waves harder, just to one up you in this childish feud you seem too occupied to even take notice of. 

The Yellows

Rin is sprawled on the grass, chest heaving with the need for more air. Despite the obvious fatigue, his will remains absolute. 

“Again.”

You look down from where you’re sitting beside him in the grass, knees propped up and arms supporting your weight from the back. 

“No way, it’s getting way too hot.”

With Sae gone, you’ve been trying to fill in the role of a good elder sibling figure. To Rin, you’re only worth as much as you can help him improve. He plays at school but one on one afternoons with you help him learn better. But it’s more than just that; having you around is so irksome that he misses Sae a little less. Not that you can fill the older Itoshi’s shoes. Sae is the kindest big brother in the world, the best in every way a person can be. While you are…you. No, it’s just that he gets so caught up in these nonsensical dissents that it makes Rin momentarily forget that his brother isn’t here. 

You push yourself off the ground, dusting the back of your shorts. He’s left to pick up the ball and trudge behind you. 

The afternoon is spent with you chatting his ear off about your texts with Sae over a glass of lemonade. His brother tells you more than he tells Rin and you make sure to let that fact be crystal clear despite never actually saying the words . It only solidifies the opinion that you’re truly the most heinous being to walk this earth. 

“Will you come tomorrow,” he interjects at some point, unable to withstand this contemporary form of torture. 

“Don’t know,” you shrug. “Honestly, I’ve taught you all I know.”

Inwardly, the admission has him preening. It’s the closest you have come to capitulating. 

You return the next day, as you always do despite never committing to it. Rin scores that morning and you have him celebrate with the ice cream you promised. 

The Greens

Your visits dwindle down eventually. Everyday turns into every other day, then weekly until finally they stop entirely. Initially Rin was certain you were just a bitter loser but then you stop coming to play with the neighborhood kids too.

The questions are answered only when he overhears a conversation between his mother and yours. How you were so caught up in your studies that it doesn’t leave any time for much else with having been accepted into a reputed high school. Then proceeds to add how you mentioned Sae to be immersed in his training in Madrid since the phone calls and texts have become less frequent that she recalls.

Somehow Rin finds this preposterous. But before he can think more of the troubles that come with growing up, contemplate the sorrows of the fleeting existence of some people in our lives, his mother’s laugh rings in the air. 

“It's all part of growing up, temporary. They’ll find their way back to each other when time calls for it.” 

For the better or worse, he lets himself believe in them. 

The Blues

“To me you’re nothing but a nuisance. Just a little brother who’s a pain in the neck. Get lost, I don’t need you in my life.”

Sae walks further, only then noticing you standing in the dark. He walks past you but stops a few feet away to look over his shoulder when you don’t follow after him. 

“Are you coming,” there’s an expectant look in his eyes. You’re suddenly made all too aware of the fact that you’re at crossroads. 

Sae always does what he wants. It’s how prodigies work; they march to the rhythm of their own drum even if the tune is closer to noise for everyone else. Rin does what Sae wants him to do. Now that you think about it, that doesn’t seem very fair. 

And then there’s you, unsure of where you stand in this world. Unsure which turn is the correct one. 

You don’t walk towards either of them but your body angles towards Rin and Sae knows you’ve made your decision even before you say the words.

 “In a bit. You go on.” 

And so he walks off. You stay behind to pick up the pieces. 

Rin doesn’t meet your eyes, only keeps them on the floor. Not that it makes a difference. You can tell he’s heartbroken. Maybe that's what being thirteen is about.

You want to comfort him, tell him it’s how siblings are. They squabble and scratch and throttle each other. If not today, not tomorrow then someday they’ll return to each other, return home. But somehow, you feel it’d do more harm than good by undermining his feelings at the moment so settle for something simpler.

“Let’s go home,” you coax. “It’s cold.” He wants to but his legs feel leaden. Then you take him by the arm to steer him out of the snow. He offers no resistance. 

You stay beside him the whole time, unwilling to leave him alone in his current state. For the first time in all these years he has known you, you stay silent, gaze fixed straight ahead on the open road. The grief subsides, not entirely but enough for him to take notice of the way your clothes fit differently and the way the area under your eyes seems darker than he ever recalls seeing. 

If this is growing up, Rin isn't sure if he wants to anymore.

The Indigoes

Maybe some things never change. Rin was always second, back when Sae seemed to care more about you than him. And now when the roles are reversed, he still remains the second option. Or at least in those moments, those out of body experiences, he feels that way.

You still hangout with Sae. Rin convinces himself that he doesn’t care, until he spots you both idling around. The occasional quirk of his lips and whatever little tenderness that Sae seems to still be capable of in the depths of his frigid heart, all of it is reserved for you. 

Naturally, you hangout with Rin too, having returned to being insufferable as before, if not more. A feat he didn’t even think was humanly possible. 

Rin should have been content with this, content with your time together but he’s not. He’s angry, so, so impossibly angry; at Sae, at himself, at the universe. Not you though, ironically. In fact, nowadays you’re the only creature that seems to bring him tranquility in the only way you know; by being so vexing that he forgets all worldly troubles. 

So he decides to be covetous. He’s sick of being second. As a child, it was simply aggravating. Now though, it feels nauseous. 

It’s only fair. Sae has forsaken you both but Rin was here all along, he’s still here and he will be here even after Sae leaves for Spain. 

The Violets 

Sae’s departure allows Rin to monopolize your time. Or at least what is left after you’re done hunched over your books. 

He’ll come over or ask you to visit instead, making up something about needing help with some schoolwork. It’s the easiest way to let your parents free you temporarily from the prison that is your room and it lets him keep some semblance of dignity. Besides, your tutoring isn’t half bad when you’re not actively trying to screw with him. 

“Picture this,” you start. “You’re in a dark stadium. So dark in fact that you can’t even see the ball… The only way you can find out is by kicking another ball at it so when it hits, the other ball moves and let’s just say it can light up momentarily on contact with the second ball. But then the first ball moves forward and out somewhere. While it was still, its velocity was obviously zero since it wasn’t covering any displacement. But now that it’s in motion, it has some velocity. Only problem is that we don’t know what it is. And that’s why the position of the ball and its velocity cannot be determined simultaneously.” 

Rin looks at the open textbook before him. “Did you just replace ‘electron’ with ‘ball’?” 

“Did you get it this time?”

You watch his face scrunch up in distaste. It’s a ridiculous sort of expression, like he’s constipated. “Yes,” a begrudging admission falls from his lips. 

“New game, take a shot everytime I say ‘ball’. But anyway, that’s Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle.” 

“The only thing I’m uncertain about is your mental stability.” 

“Says the one who likes to play with balls alongside twenty one other guys.”

“...Get out.” 

You smile, clearly pleased at yourself. Rin keeps a straight face, for one he genuinely doesn’t find this genre of humor particularly funny, especially not with how repetitive that joke is. Besides, it’ll only enable you. 

“Laughing isn’t taxed, y’know?”

“...” “And even if it was, you could pay with Sae’s money.” 

“Like he’s going to give me any.”

“That’s what bank fraud is for.”

A brief quirk graces Rin’s lips. He tries to wipe off the traces but it’s clearly too late. You make a thespian display of it for the rest of the week. 

Rin fears you’ll hold it over his head for the rest of your lives. Though if that assures that your existence will be bound to his, maybe it's worth the headaches that come with your company.

Constructive is always welcome and appreciated. This work has a lot of analogies, I'm not sure if I managed to capture all of it so feel free to ask in case of confusion.

© Characters belong to Blue Lock.

[wrenbird03]

wow i haven’t been active in a while huh? anyways take this art i made just in time for halloween :D

happy halloween tumblr creatures :)

[hinamie]

shhhh

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems

[afteas2003]

someone on Pinterest asked me to draw a dc character I know nothing about and it was 4 am so I said fuck it and did a quick sketch. I was tryna play with more dynamic poses and I ACCIDENTALLY TWINKIFIED THIS MANS in like, a COMPLETELY different art style than is normal for me and I just sent it to them in shame guys wtf is this

[wawapiggy]

me when i witness the horrors:

transformations are very very cool :3

also this is for time week on the lu discord server

[gay-victorian-astronomer]

little dolores pencil sketch I did the other day

[cankersaurus]

First drawing inspo frum

[darlingofdots]

the vast majority of fanworks are bad, and that's fine, actually. they are bad for the same reason that the average number of legs for a human person to have is less than two: statistics. like with all endeavours and especially creative ones, most people who write fanfiction or draw art of their favourite characters are bad at it. if you line up all the crochet projects in the world, most of them will be, well, bad. some are bad because they're the first thing a person ever made, or the second or third or tenth, and this kind of thing takes practice. others are bad because the person who made them is just not very good at it. maybe they just learned how to make granny squares and they're perfectly happy to never expand or improve on that. most people who dance or bake or garden or braid hair are not amazing at it! and you'd never go to your kid's dance recital or eat your friend's homemade carrot cake and expect the same experience as you'd have at a professional ballet performance or award-winning bakery. And that's if we assume there is an objective measure of Good Art, which there isn't! Some art is just "bad" because you don't like it!

I think though that specifically with fanfiction, we sometimes forget that when we read a book or watch a movie, dozens of people have looked at it and given feedback and made changes and done quality control before the final product reaches our shelves or screens, and that's not counting the original writer's learning process and past experience. A published book is not anyone's first crochet project, even if it is their debut novel. But with fanfiction, the barrier to entry is so low (on purpose! this is a good thing!) that we do get to see a lot of wonky granny squares, and on sites like AO3 they're sitting on the same shelf as the hand-made silk lace wedding dress and you can't always tell just by looking at it which is which. The consequence of this is that we encounter fic that we think is unpolished, has bad punctuation, is out of character, and we are tempted to think "well, this is awful! how dare this person put this wonky granny square on the same shelf as the lace wedding dress!" But that's not how fandom is supposed to work! That wonky granny square is somebody who is really excited about this TV show they just watched and they are reaching out into the void to share their excitement with you. To scoff at them for not making a lace wedding dress is really, really rude. Even if they did make a lace wedding dress, maybe it's just really not your style, or you think they should have used a different pattern, and it's still their wedding dress. You don't have to wear the dress and you don't have to read the fic.

We all know that there is some fanfic out there that is incredible. I think it's important to talk about that! But the vast majority of people who post their writing online are just sharing their little hobby projects that they make for fun and I also think it's important to remember that.

[viktoriamagrey]

8 years of digital art

Finished this just barely on the eve of my birthday...!

[chiscaralight]

cw: shy!choso x reader, prone boning, college au. sukuna and gojo ver linked at the bottom!

college athlete!choso who’s an absolute beast on the field. everyone loves to watch him play, it’s almost like a movie every time he’s out for the game! he’s always ready to charge headfirst when it comes to his sport, and he won’t let anyone take it away from him.

college athlete!choso who doesn’t talk to anyone outside his teammates and a select few. it’s fair anyway, a lot of people only want to speak to him bc he’s deemed important, not like they want to know him.

college athlete!choso who’s also known for his aloof personality. but when you’re partnered up for an essay, you soon realize everyone is painfully wrong.

college athlete!choso who’s the most shy thing ever! it almost breaks your heart how he starts to stutter and avoid your eyes while you work out the details, just humming in agreement and you swear he almost passes out when you ask for his number.

college athlete!choso who’s practically about to fall off the edge of your bed, trying to sit as far away from you as possible. it’s like trying to coax a hostile cat to eat food you brought it, but with the way you’re looking at him, choso is sure he wouldn’t mind you putting him in your mouth just a bit.

college athlete!choso who finally warms up to you after a couple of evenings together. there’s still significant distance between the two of you, both physically and emotionally, but he’s more open now. he can actually hold a conversation with you now, and he thinks you’re the coolest! he can’t get you off his mind at all, whether he’s walking to the field hoping to spot you on his path, or secretly searching for you in this shared class.

college athlete!choso who jerks himself off to the thought of you after practice, making sure the locker room is empty as he moans out your name, wishing it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead.

college athlete!choso who forgets he’s supposed to meet up with you, cussing himself out when he sees your texts and missed calls. you’re super understanding though, and you tell him to take his time or you can reschedule if it’s better. but he assures you he can be there in less than ten minutes.

college athlete!choso who’s at your door in three minutes, panting and soaked. you can’t tell whether it’s from the shower water or if it’s sweat, but your eyes are more focused on the outline of his exposed arms and damp shirt clinging to his frame. he’s babbling, saying sorry for wasting your time, he ran because he couldn’t find his keys! but his apologies are hitting deaf ears, your mind is definitely on something else. and he notices.

college athlete!choso who’s eyes widen when you pout, shyly asking him to kiss you. this is something you’ve been trying to avoid since the first day he sat in your room, but it’s so hard to hold yourself back when he looks like this!

college athlete!choso who presses his back to the door, holding you in his arms while your tongues tangle. he’s moaning around your tongue, shamelessly feeling you up while you grind your front against his hardening bulge. he’s almost embarrassingly loud, but each sound he makes sends vibrations straight between your legs.

and you’d have to say the same for yourself, fingers dragging down his arms, around his neck, across his chest. but the real kicker is when you softly place your hand against his abs. he’s unconsciously flexing beneath your touch and it draws you in like magic. maybe he’d have good core strength? you’re the one who’s going to put college athlete!choso to the test.

college athlete!choso who passes your test in flying colors, prone boning you with an ease that has you seeing stars. you’re face first in the sheets, cries muffled by the pillow your head rests on while he slams into you like he hates you, much different from the way he asks if you’re okay after a couple of thrusts. you can’t even get your head up! and he’s getting worried but you guide his hand towards your neck, struggling to place your head in the crook of his elbow before telling him to squeeze.

college athlete!choso who gets off on the way your eyes roll back and your voice gets whinier. his hips falter just a bit when you call out his name in that voice, and if not for how good you felt, you would’ve teased him for the way his cock just twitched.

college athlete!choso who can’t face you in class the next day. you’re a little sad when you don’t see him, so you decide to check the field later in the day.

college athlete!choso who freezes up when he sees you waving from the stands. his teammates don’t miss his change in demeanor, and they start to laugh and nudge him in the side, teasing him about the cutie cheering him on from the bleachers.

college athlete!choso who comes up to you during their break, face still blazing hot from the exercise and the memories of you from last night. he says he would have hugged you but he’s insanely sweaty right now. not like you would’ve minded, that sweaty body was all up on yours last night like it was nothing!

college athlete!choso who gives you a nice long kiss before he leaves. trying to drown out the sounds of his team hollering at the two of you from a distance. you break the kiss with a laugh and tell him he can come over later if he wants.

college athlete!choso who forgets his keys and runs all the way to your place for the fourth time this week. he doesn’t mind though, he just thinks of it as prep for the calories he’s about to burn with you in a couple of minutes.

sukuna ver here!

gojo ver here!

geto ver here!

choso pt2 here!

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 · 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧

contents: fluff. established relationship. you always sleep better when you're with him. 600 wc.

It’s been long since darkness cloaked the firmament and Sylus is absorbed in the tranquil silence of his studies overlooking documents and official records. A common routine given his atypical profession in dealing with illegal weaponry and other business practices that caught his interest. His fingers idly tapping against the armrest come to a halt when faint footsteps reach his ears. The sound draws nearer and closer with each pace and the corner of his mouth tugs upward into a smirk while he waits in anticipation.

“Kitten, shouldn’t you be in bed where I had left you?” Sylus meets your heavy-lidded gaze and registers your appearance as a cashmere blanket wraps around your shoulders and your hair tousled from what seems to be troubled sleep. Despite his question, he beckons you with a gesture and you settle across his lap, your body turning in towards him to nuzzle your face into his neck with your arms coiling around him. He gently shifts your weight closer to him for a more secure hold and lays a sweet kiss on your head once your movement stills.

“You’re more comfy… way more comfy. I prefer this much more.” You hum and return his kiss by brushing your lips against his skin. He can feel you ease into him as he studies your adorable sleepy face and his heart swells with so much love and tenderness for you. He loves it when you seek him out even when you've spent the entire day together and still can't get enough of him.

“Is that so? I suppose I’m more comfortable than a bed, huh?” He strokes your hair, lulling you deeper into your drowsiness and you can only muster a noise of contentment. He wonders if he can emulate the same sense of comfort you provide him when he’s resting his head on your lap. The sweet and intimate sensation of your fingers caressing through his silver locks with the lingering scent of your perfume makes everything seem right in the world even if just brieftly. “You know I can’t work when you’re in my lap like this. I have too many distractions that way. You and the cute way you snore.”

You grunt softly. “I do not snore… do you really want me to leave?” You slowly unravel yourself from him with a small pout on your lower lip, and he softens with the realization that maybe he shouldn’t have teased you when you’re laced with sleep. You feel something warm against your forehead through your bleary eyes, and he can’t have his darling feeling unloved and unwanted by mistake and he intends to remedy that. His hand reaches up and moves your head back where it was moments ago and you are pliant under his touch.

“Now, I didn’t say you had to go anywhere. Stay here with me. I promise you won’t get in the way.” Sylus cooes you gently, his hand smooths along your back and he rests his cheek against your hair as he savors the feeling of having you in his arms. “I love you, sweet kitten. Sleep now. I’ll hold you until you do.” You murmur you love him back and for a few minutes, there’s nothing but silence and the steady rhythm of your breathing as your consciousness begins to drift.

Sylus gazes down at you with a fond and affectionate expression, whispering quiet reassurances that he hopes will reach you in your dreams. He resumes skimming through the paperwork he was doing before, his actions slower and deliberate so as not to wake you. Although his focus has shifted, he enjoys having you here with him like this and he could certainly get used to it.

[bi-writes]

hiiiii I'm new to your page but i would like to ask you what would've happened if simon mail-ordered a bride?

mail-order bride

you stare down at the address on the card, blinking as you reread the house number and look back up at the cottage in front of you. the numbers match, but you just need a few more minutes before you knock on the door.

you're not holding too many things. you have one suitcase with the entirety of your belongings at one side, the cat carrier sitting on top of it. on the other side, you hold a bundle of papers. your immigration papers, all shiny and new, your birth certificate, and your new british passport.

when you look back down, you swallow as you read over your name. it's odd, to see something new in the section labeled SURNAME.

Riley.

you've never met him. this isn't legal, it can't be, to have all of these things. he must be someone important. someone they value. or maybe, they are just too afraid to say no to him.

the front door opens, and you freeze on the spot as you see someone duck their head to step outside. they're wearing a mask, covering their entire face except for their dark eyes, but it's hitched up over his nose as he holds an unlit cigarette between his lips.

he stares as he sees you at the end of the steps. he frowns, looking you up and down.

"weren't supposed ta be 'ere for a few weeks."

your eyes water a little, but you only manage a shrug.

"i-i..." you meet his eyes. "i-i couldn't stay there any longer. i didn't have anywhere else to go."

he tucks the cigarette back behind his ear, slipping the mask off. it reveals a tousled mess of short blonde hair and a terribly scarred face. his eyes dart to the little carrier sitting next to you when he hears a soft meow coming from it.

"said no pets."

your lip trembles.

"please," you whisper, and his lip twitches as he fights off a scowl. you imagine he must not have much practice in hiding his emotions. he comes down the steps anyways, coming closer, and you pick up the carrier as he snatches the suitcase off the pavement, making his way back inside. you follow him, naturally.

when you close the door behind you, you're surprised at how quaint it all is. nice brick fireplace, a soft carpet (no shoes allowed is what he snapped at you), and wonderfully furnished to make the place cozy, warm, lived-in. there's throw blankets and accent pillows. there's pictures on the walls, paintings, yellow corner lights to give everything a soft glow. the kitchen is beautiful, with lovely colored tile and wooden cutting boards, a drip-coffee setup in the corner and worn cookbooks stacked neatly by a stainless steel toaster. there's herbs growing in little pots sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and there's a cast iron pot decoratively resting on the stove.

it's spick-span clean. there's no specks of dust or splatters left over from bacon grease. there's papers pinned to the fridge, lists to remind him to buy whole milk and sliced bread and call about the internet bill being charged twice again.

you set the carrier down on the couch, unzipping the top. a little curious black head pokes out of it, and you reach in and pick the cat up under its belly and drop it onto the floor. immediately, the cat spreads its front paws, claws sticking out as they begin to knead the carpet and use it as a personal scratcher, the prick, prick, prick sound enough to draw the giant man out of the bedroom with a hard frown on his face.

he points at the thing and shakes his head.

"keep tha' thing off the fawkin' counter," he snaps at you. he purses his lips when he sees you still standing there, afraid to even move. he comes closer, the cat scurrying off, and he yanks your coat and scarf off, going to the hang them up by the door. "can unpack tomorrow. need t'make somethin' ta eat."

you move immediately towards the kitchen, hoping he keeps a stocked fridge, but he puts out a big hand and stops you, stepping in front of you.

"the fuck are y'doin'?" he asks, and you blink up at him.

"you said to make dinner...s-sir?"

he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.

"y'listen t'this," he murmurs. "women don't lift a fuckin' finger in this house, y'hear?"

you nod, and he reaches up and palms your throat, cupping your jaw.

"and my wife doesn't call me sir," he mutters. "it's simon."

you soften a little. "i-i'm sorry, simon."

"don't apologize," he grits his teeth. "did nothin' wrong."

when a fresh set of tears comes down your face, he wipes them away with ease, calloused thumb swiping over your cheeks and quieting you. he puts something into your hands, a velvet box that he must've gotten when he went to put your suitcase away.

"y'r a riley now, yeah?" he murmurs, and you tilt your head at an angle, and your foreheads brush together when he bends low to speak to you. "act like it."

you lean up on your toes (he's so fucking tall), and you kiss him softly beside his mouth. when he moves his head, your lips brush against each other, but he pulls back to make his way to the kitchen. you hear the gas stove light up, and a few minutes later, there's a familiar smell of onions hitting hot olive oil.

you take a seat on the couch, smiling to yourself, wiping your eyes as you curl up there. you flip open the box, sighing shakily when you see the rectangular diamond and matching gold wedding band. when simon comes back in to give you a mug of tea, you take it with your left hand, and his eyes flicker when he notices the new jewelry there, so pretty, so new.

mine.

when he pads back into the kitchen, the cat blinks up at him slowly, green eyes bright as they sit on the counter.

simon walks past it, saying nothing at all.

[mossmx]

I started what was suppodes to be uncut dick practice and now I've rendered some amazing hands