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notsaviors · 1 year

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CALL ME WHAT YOU LIKE | LOVEJOY

old post type, can’t turn off reblogs, but hey fuck this guy !!!

#lovejoy #wilbur soot #will gold #lvjy #lvjyedit #call me what you like #long post #mine #wes gallagher.#i feel like these arent sharpened enough but the fog makes it so hard to sharpen and color and at a certain point ur boy just gives up !#gif warning #flashing gif #paranoia tw #mine.

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queentoriel · 1 year

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happy 2 years are you alright

#lovejoy #lvjy #lovejoy fanart #wilbur soot fanart #blockbench #pixel art #lowpoly #queentoriel #3d model

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poraphia · 10 months

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"I see you standing on the sidelines."

pairing • lvjy!enemies!wilbur x singer!enemies!reader 1063 words • 8.6.23 containing • lowkey enemies, cursing, cheeky insults my masterlist ~! ღ Soot's Pretty Princess ღ on Tumblr

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What do I think about Wilbur?

It's funny you should ask. To put it quite plainly,

He's a total dickhead.

The best way to describe him is like a mosquito buzzing around your head, and everytime you take a swab of smacking it away you end up just completely missing. You're so annoyed that it would serve your reputation best to just stop attempting any form of defense and let it happen.

Wilbur and I have been in a "battle-of-the-bands" heat for as long as our music careers started. However, years before, we were great friends, a perfect pair even, that is until some.. Complications.. Between us occurred.

"You look like you're about to piss yourself." Wilbur snorted.

I rolled my eyes, taking a swig from my water bottle. Every relentless mock, eye-rolling boast, and shit-eating grin felt like nails to a chalkboard. "You never learn when to piss off, do you?" I groaned. He quirked an eyebrow before scooting his metal chair closer, scraping it against the worn wooden planks.

"Not really." He smirked. I looked at him to the side of me, my head not turning to face him. His legs straddled the back of his chair as his arms draped alongside the frame. His lips were pressed flatly, but curled at the ends topped with those signature dimples and squinty eyes.

I inhaled a sharp breath before averting my gaze.

"Lovejoy is on in ten minutes!" A man with a clipboard waved an arm around as various crew members attended to their duties. Will's head perked up to catch a glimpse of the preparation. I looked around as well, that is until his eyes trailed back onto me.

"You gonna come out and watch me play, darling?" He nudged. I properly turned my head to face him now with my ankle resting on top of my opposite knee. I scoffed, pointing at him with my half drunken water bottle.

"Watch you?" I remarked, shaking my bottle as I talked. "I should be looking for some earmuffs right about now, really. God forbid I listen to what trash you've written up since the last festival." I sat back, continuing my rant. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if you bitched about another one of your failed rela–"

I was cut off as he held the end of my bottle. I paused, looking at him strangely. His eyes, deep pools of chocolate, stared into mine, shooting a fluttering system in my veins. Stubborn to not express my bashfulness, I grit my teeth and stared at him right back, unfazed.

"Y'know," he started. His grip on the bottle depleted. His fingers now trailing to my hand, gently tracing patterns onto my skin. His face brushed past mine with lips leaning close to my ear. Softly, he whispered. "You should listen closer to the lyrics... You may learn something."

Before I could process what words he uttered, his band members called for him to grab his instrument. He retreated his grasp and then walked past me, instinctively making me turn around to watch the man approach his fellow band members. The scent of his cologne breezing my face.

At first, I rolled my eyes. Was this just some cheap trick to get my attention? And what is there to learn when it comes to listening to the lyrics? I've heard enough of his shitty music to know it's about how much he missed his failed attempt at a girlfriend.

Or rather-- crush he ultimately rejected me for.

Through loud blaring speakers, the stage crew introduced Lovejoy and soon enough the harmony of the bass and guitar echoed throughout the stadium, following the steady heartbeat of Mark's drums.

Truly, I tried my best to ignore it. However, every single time, without fail, I find myself wandering to the offside of the stage, hidden behind the black curtains to not be seen by the thousands of people, but close enough where I can see the glistens of sweat shining on Wilbur's skin.

He was in the midst of singing Portrait of A Blank Slate, the featured song of his latest EP. The crowd jumped and screamed the lyrics back at him. At least, those who knew the lyrics anyway. My arms crossed as I watched the lanky man let his guitar dangle by the strap. He caressed the microphone stand with one hand, another gripping at the handle.

His eyes glanced to the side, before returning back to the crowd, only for his eyes to flash back at me again. What once was a straight, concentrated look on his face turned into an expression of eagerness, as if his want for attention has been satisfied. He took his hand off the microphone stand and started tracing his chest, opening more of his already unbuttoned collar.

I stood there, shell-shocked. The excitement of fans blared somewhat louder than the booming sound devices, but his eyes kept on me. He continued his theatrics, having to almost peel his own gaze off of me to continue performing for the crowd. His hands moved gracefully in juxtaposition with the erratic tune.

His eyes fluttered close, back to concentrating on what strings to press, what lyrics to sing, and what queues to initiate. But my mind was flooded with questions the more I listened to what words he spoke into that microphone. The pleas of wanting to stay with someone, the idea of being perfect for each other, the bitter taste of someone breaking the subject down.

Soon enough, the song came to an end with its final chords and strums. The crowd erupted in a loud cheer, but Wilbur—

Oh, Wilbur.

With one sneaky, watchful glance, he drank in my searching eyes, looking for some sort of answer. My face, dusted in a flustered pink to highlight my cheeks. My mouth was open ajar, but no words could sound out of my throat. With a satisfied smile, he turned back to the audience.

I had to give him the win on this one.

That fucking bastard.

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a / n ~ hihi this is my first official fanfic on tumblr hope u likey

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot oneshots #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur hc #lovejoy #will gold #lvjy #wilbur x reader #fanfic #lovejoy concert #mcyt headcanons wilbur #poraphiafanfics

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fallow-grove · 1 year

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