#if I don’t agree with what some artist/celebrity says

[persephoneflouwers]

Anons ✨

[ninyard]

Oh my, would you mind writing about the date or truth Kevin interview if you want ? I feel like you would nail it

This is literally so silly and not as dramatic as it could be but I was picturing it a little like this; Kevin, the interviewer, the researcher and his publicist/manager/agent or whatever have already had a conversation about which questions are totally off limits - they can’t ask about the perfect court, or Riko. They can’t ask about the Ravens, and a couple other things. They clear a few that are going to be bait questions - ones he’s not going to answer, but will allow them to ask for viewership and engagement’s sake.

It’s an interviewer Kevin clicks quite well with, not a completely obligatory interview on a long and exhausting press run, but a half-relief of a pit stop in between the other obligations. It’s for a late night talk show, of some sort, one that’s known for showing the funnier side of celebrities because the host is so good at their job. So the rehearsals go fine, the audience fill into their seats, and Kevin is backstage with hair and makeup.

“Did they tell you what’s in the glasses?” He asks, the makeup artist touching him up with some powder on his forehead.

His publicist shakes her head. “Only that they’re gross. How’s your stomach?”

Kevin knows it’s likely he’ll get sick if there’s anything texturally disgusting put in front of him - he can handle most of the typically gross foods, but anything liquidy and unexpectedly chunky and he’s done for.

He gets his time warnings from the different runners and then he’s off to the left of the stage, and the host is introducing him with far too much flattery like he’s a real superstar - “Ladies and Gentlemen, let’s give a warm welcome to the Son of Exy, Kevin Day!”

Kevin steps onto the stage with that shining bright smile and a hand in the air, eyes on the crowd as if he’s waving at anyone in particular. The crowd goes wild.

The initial nterview is mostly boring press stuff - how’s the season? Excited for the future? Heard you got signed back on to the National Team this year, how does that feel? How are the Foxes? Tell us what’s in store for you next.

Then the host introduces the game section, and he’s brought over to a round table with a lazy Susan in the centre and a number of covered dishes along the edge.

“Have you ever played our little game of Truth or Drink before? Because I don’t think you have.” The host smiles as they sit down across from him, cards of questions in their hands.

“If I say I have, does that mean I don’t have to do it?” He looks out towards the audience like they can save him, playing up to the cameras around him. The crowd laugh like he’s the funniest person they’ve ever witnessed. It helps that the floor manager encourages them from the stage floor.

“So here’s how it goes, we spin our little table here and you’ll end up with a drink or a snack in front of you,” The host explains. The audience know there’s more to it than that. “I’ll ask you a question, and you have a choice - you can answer that question, Kevin, or you can have whatever is on that plate in front of you. Got it?”

“Sounds easy to me,” Kevin nods and then purses his lips as if he doesn’t know what he’s signed up for. “Maybe too easy.”

“Definitely too easy,” The host agrees, and spins the table until a dish stops in front of Kevin. “So why don’t you lift up that cover there and tell us what’s in front of you?”

Kevin lifts the chrome covering - it’s a small shot glass of some thick white substance. It looks like mayonnaise, and then he lifts the identifying card to read it; It’s a shot glass full of pure mayo. Easy enough.

“Not a good start,” he holds up the card so the cameras can find it and frowns. “But something tells me it’s not the worst.”

“Who’s to say?” The crowd are prompted to laugh. “So, first question, we know that you were the person who made the decision to sign Neil Josten to the Foxes last year. Did you know who he was when you signed him?”

The crowd ooh at the question and Kevin feels his heart stutter for just a second. Were they supposed to mark Neil as a no-go topic? Did they forget? He laughs instead, and places the cover next to the shot glass.

“No, no, I didn’t.” He shakes his head, and shrugs his shoulders. “Unfortunately it didn’t come up on his background check.” He mocks pulling on his collar like the whole Neil situation is a yikes topic. The words leave his mouth through a false awkward smile and the audience eat it up with laughter and applause.

“Would you have signed him if you knew?” The host asks, and Kevin points a finger at them in mock warning.

“Isn’t that a second question?” The crowd love it. He knows how to work an interview, having fun with an audience that love even the simplest of jokes.

“Okay, okay, playing by the rules, I see,” The host turns the table until another covered dish lands in front of Kevin. “And our next dish is…”

Another shot glass. This time full of cold baked beans. Kevin grimaces as he inspects the glass. “I’m beginning to think this interview was a bad idea...” He laughs.

“Hey, no take backs!” The host flips their stack of cards to a question Kevin knows is one he’s not supposed to answer. Gross, he thinks, but it’s not the worst thing on the table - that, he’s sure of. “Our next question tonight, is one I’m personally interested in…” The host riles up the audiences curiosity. They point to his cheek. “Kevin, what’s the real meaning behind the Queen piece?”

It’s an obvious answer - everyone knows it’s because Riko was the so-called King of Exy, but saying that out loud would just confirm it, and it’d be the first time he’d have said it on record. People have been itching for him to confirm it since he’d had the number covered up, but he’d refused to, in order to avoid the stirring up of unnecessary drama. It was a 75% harmless question, but still good enough to get some speculation and buzz online about the show and Kevin’s interview.

“And if I say it’s my favourite chess piece, can we move on?” Kevin pokes fun at the question with half a grimace, half a smile. The host laughs and covers their face with the cards.

“No, no, we’re looking for the real reason Kevin,” They raise their eyebrows and use the cards to point at the glass in front of him. “Or you can always take a drink.”

Kevin pretends to hesitate before he holds his nose and knocks back half of the shot. The gag he can’t hold back isn’t quite pretend, but he covers his mouth to swallow, before shaking his head. “That’s… disgusting.”

“It’s protein?” The host offers.

“Not enough to be worth it.” He retorts, and the audience laughs again. He washes it down with the glass of water that had been left by his side. He shakes his head again before clearing his throat. “Next one, please.”

The same as before, a spin of the table, and suddenly Kevin is sat in front of some other gross concoction, and a supposedly online-drama inspired question is asked. It’s something he doesn’t mind answering, and so he does. The game moves forward; blended fish guts. The audience grimaces with him. There’s no way he’s drinking that. There’s absolutely no way.

“This is torture,” he holds back a retch and tries not to smell the wafting fishy odour from the awful looking drink. “I think you should be put in prison for this.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” the host laughs. They line up their cards by tapping them on the table. “Okay, are you ready for this one?”

“Go easy on me,” Kevin turns away from the glass to stop himself from looking at it. “I won’t ever come back.”

“I don’t know…” They tease. “So instead of drinking that delicious drink, Kevin, why don’t you tell us how you really broke your hand?”

The question is out before anyone can stop it. Not that they would’ve been able to, anyway, but he could’ve sworn he’d put that on a list of do-not-asks. But maybe he had been stupid enough to believe that he’d been back in the public eye long enough after all that controversy that they wouldn’t care anymore. He let the crowd drink in the question as his careful-not-to-falter eyes caught his publicist standing off the side of the stage. He watches her turn to a crew member with pure rage on her face.

Kevin hides his head between his legs in an over-dramatic reaction, as the audience continue to go wild for much longer than necessary. He pretends to laugh as he catches his breath and considers if there is any possibly way out of this one. He could lie, maybe, but he doesn’t have anything on the tip of his tongue that would be good enough. It’s only likely to get him in far more trouble than it’s worth, anyway, if such a lie were to start spiralling.

“Fish guts?!” He swallows down his beating heart and exclaims. “That’s the question you ask when I have fish guts in front of me?!”

He’s certain he can see fear flash over the hosts face as they laugh. They know this is an off-limits question, even if they hadn’t been told.

“I’ll go easy on you,” they hold out their hands, and the crowd boo as they’re dying for the answer. “You don’t have to drink the whole thing. Or you can answer the question…” they push.

Kevin looks at the grey pink liquid. This wasn’t in his PR training. But not once does his million dollar smile fall from his lips, not once does his face give anything away. Smile, laugh, give the audience what they want. They love you. Remind them why.

He lifts the glass to smell it. A bad idea, in retrospect, as he’s retching before it’s barely an inch or two off the table. For a moment he half considers telling the truth, but that is never a serious option. He hopes the Moriyama’s can see his dedication, that these are the lines he’s willing to cross to keep their little secret.

“I miss when these shows were boring,” Kevin beats a hand on the table, and the crowd slows down, save for a few still pushing for him to answer the question. “They didn’t have this kind of thing on Larry King.”

He gets a laugh for that one. He tries to lift the glass once more and retches again. The host covers their face again to laugh, but Kevin can see the fear beneath branded card stock.

“Remind me never to come back here again,” The audience erupts as the glass reaches his lips, and as quick as its there, its in the trash bin that the production team has left beside him. He can’t help but vomit up a mixture baked beans, water, and whatever else sat in his stomach. Dedication and loyalty, he reminds himself, as he thinks of the clips that are going to surface online after this one.

The interviewer is quick to wrap up the segment, thanking a now pale Kevin for his appearance, and the call is made that the show is at commercials. On-Air and Mic-Live lights switch off, but Kevin doesn’t let his smile fall until he’s out of view of the crowd who applaud him off the stage well into the ads. He barely comprehends the words his publicist is saying to him as he is handed some flavoured carbonated drink. It doesn’t matter that it’s against his rules of things to drink, he chugs half of the bottle down anyway. It doesn’t do much anyway; He’s sure he’s going to be tasting fish for weeks.

Note, he thinks, pushing open the door for his private dressing room. There’s nobody there, and he heads straight to the toilet to retch again.

Add how I broke my hand to the list of things that interviewers are NOT allowed to ask about.

[irisintheafterglow]

love me from your point of view

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: ariana grande - "pov"

summary: you teach sakusa kiyoomi how to love, in spite of the cameras and the gossip.

wc: 8.45k

cw/tags: pro!sakusa x rockstar!reader, fem!reader in mind but no specific pronouns used, strangers to lovers, character study, explicit language, minor injury (blood/glass tw), mentions of drinking and alcohol, angst with happy ending <3

note: this is my contribution for the lovely sel's "and there's something, this feeling" collab to celebrate one year of @seiwas ! this is the longest fic i've written to date because i tried my best to go a character-driven route that i've always admired sel for rather than my usual plot-driven route. i hope you like this and happiest of anniversaries my wonderful sel :))))

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated :) check out the rest of sel's event here!

Sakusa Kiyoomi hated cameras. Unfortunately, in his line of work, they were essentially gnats buzzing constantly around his head. They were always trying to make him do something, look here or there, pose with his shoulders angling this way or that. After the commands came the interrogations, nosy reporters sniffing around his private life for something sellable. Then there were the phone cameras and the fans behind them, and they could be a hit or miss depending on if they respected his boundaries. When he was in highschool, he could get away with avoiding socialization; but now, as a striker for one of the most famous teams in the country, socialization was a required skill. 

“I’m happy you agreed to go with us, Sakusa,” Bokuto says for the fifth time since they parked at the venue in the heart of Tokyo. It was a little irritating, the way they kept thanking him for his presence like he’d back out if they didn’t continue expressing their gratitude. He couldn’t leave, even if he wanted to; Atsumu insisted on being the one behind the wheel and the car narrowly avoided a collision after Hinata said he’d missed the exit. “We know you’re still a little grumpy because of the drive, so don’t feel the need to talk to us right now.” 

“Hey, if you wanted to leave so badly, you could just call a car,” Atsumu points out, “but I know you secretly like spending time with us.” Sakusa fixes his teammate with a stare that could be perceived as a grimace, but his friends know him better than that. Sakusa wasn’t angry, he was bored. It was originally Bokuto and Hinata’s idea to see some artist he didn’t listen to in concert, saying that it was ‘a once in a lifetime experience’ and that the artist hadn’t played in the country in over a decade. He was vaguely aware of some songs, mostly because his teammates cranked the speaker volume during conditioning. Still, it wasn’t his ideal Saturday night, especially before a big game. “And, guess what?”

“Holy shit, box seats!” 

“We have our own bathroom!” Bokuto and Hinata’s shouts of excitement drown out the rest of Atsumu’s sentence and the security guards are barely able to open the doors as they tumble into the private section. 

“Yo, Shoyo. Be careful of that railing or you’ll fall into the general audience,” Atsumu warns while Hinata willfully ignores him, staring out over the crowds slowly filing into their seats. “Pretty cool, ain’t it?” Sakusa nods once, approaching the balcony and then deciding against it when he catches the telltale flash of a phone camera. Like clockwork, he and the other Jackals would be on every update page within ten minutes. A small object appears from behind the balcony wall, floating upwards in a thin arc before falling back to the seats below.

“The hell are they doing?”

“Sakusa, fans are trying to give us bracelets,” Bokuto beams, holding up his forearm halfway-covered in colorful beads. “Apparently it’s a tradition with this artist.”

“I don’t like gifts,” Sakusa deadpans, his mouth taut in a frown. “Tell them I can’t take it.”

“Too late,” Atsumu says, snagging a vibrant purple bracelet as it’s tossed upwards. He looks down at the eager fans below and claps, gesturing for them to throw more. “We’re already taking ‘em, so they’re gonna wonder why you’re not taking them too.”

“If they’re real fans, they’ll know I don’t like gifts,” he counters with narrowed eyes. 

“C’mon, Sakusa. Take one, at least,” Hinata says. His shorter teammate carefully pulls one off and slides it onto his wrist. The pattern alternates between yellow and lime green beads, with letter beads in the center spelling ‘NOKMLYDANOEW.’ It looked like Bokuto and Akaashi’s cat stepped on their computer keyboard. “The letters are an acronym for a song, I think. It’s an inside thing with the artist,” Hinata explains, leaning his bracelet-covered arms against the railing and waving to excited fans. 

“I’m gonna see if they have time to meet us backstage. The fans’ll go berserk.” Bokuto’s words make Sakusa’s eye twitch involuntarily. Staying longer than expected of him was a surefire way to make him irritated and they knew that. 

“Yeah, they’re not the only ones who will benefit from a little meet and greet,” Atsumu whispers cryptically and it’s impossible not to see the way he looks Sakusa up and down. 

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about it, man,” Bokuto reassures him with a pat on the back, but he doesn’t budge. 

“No, I’m interested. What’re you on about, Miya?” 

“Trust us, it’s nothing!”

“Just grab a soju and relax, Sakusa–”

“They’re trying to set you up with the artist!” Sakusa flinches, turning slowly to his teammates that shrink away like vampires in direct sunlight. Hinata looks mortified, his hands slapped over his mouth as if to seal off what was already revealed. Atsumu and Bokuto shrug, giving him guilty smiles and showing their palms to convey their surrender. “That’s…that’s what they were talking about before we picked you up,” Hinata continues sheepishly. 

“This whole thing is a blind date?” He seethes through gritted teeth, the lights of the stadium starting to give him a migraine. “You guys brought me here to set me up?” 

“All we’re trying to do is have you meet someone new,” Atsumu says gently, stepping forward and then abruptly backward when Sakusa looks like he’s about to commit a homicide. “We think it’ll be good for you.” 

“I don’t care about new people. I have work and you idiots to keep me busy,” Sakusa argues, crossing his arms over his chest. The beads on his arm press into his skin and he fights the urge to rip the entire thing off. “Why would I wanna meet some musician I don’t listen to?” 

“Even if you don’t listen to their music,” Bokuto replies without hesitation, “You should read through their lyrics sometime; I think you’ll find a lot of stuff you can relate to. I bet they get just as much bad publicity as we do.” 

“As if,” he scoffs. “I don’t need someone with a purple guitar telling me what I think.” 

—

“You said there were volleyball guys in attendance, right? If they’re still here, I should probably meet them,” you say to your publicist as you step out from the automatic riser that brought you below the stage following the last song of the show. The sound of your platform boots echo on the linoleum in the back halls of the stadium, your exit music faintly audible from above. “Who are they?” 

“There’s four in total, along with some managers and press. They’re on a team called the MSBY Jackals, with an outstanding record in the sport. From what I’ve seen, three of them are pretty nice.” The two of you, along with a handful of security guards, climb into a waiting golf cart. 

“And the other one?” 

“Toss-up. He might not even talk to you.” You take a sip from your water bottle and briefly glance at the photo your publicist has pulled up on her phone. You can guess which one is the quiet one from his face in the photo alone, staring blankly at the camera while his other teammates smile brightly. 

“He looks like he’d kill me in my sleep,” you observe bluntly. “The type of serial killer people make fan accounts about.” 

“In his defense, I don’t think this is his type of crowd,” she shrugs, her attention flicking to the way you stretch your legs in the seat of the small vehicle. “Sore?”

“Beyond belief,” you chuckle, wincing as a small stab of pain shoots through your calf. “I think I might need a little more padding on the soles, if possible. Chunky heels, in all their wonder, were not made for three hour shows.”

“I’ll see what I can do. You focus on turning back on for the players.” 

After a few more minutes of sipping water and stretching out your legs in the backseat of the golf cart, you pull up to the loading dock where the four athletes are waiting. Two of them, one with iced tips and the other with vibrantly orange hair, practically jump in place when you arrive. The grumpy one lingers at the back of the group; the blonde player extends his hand to you as you step out. 

“Thank you so much.” You greet them with a practiced smile and hope your exhaustion isn’t too visible. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“I couldn’t stop screaming the entire time and I think my voice is shot.” 

“You are incredibly talented.” 

“It was wonderful!” 

“Oh, I’m so glad. It’s such a pleasure to meet you all,” you say warmly, truly wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep for 24 hours straight. Even when his friends chatter your ear off, the curly-haired one at the back doesn’t say anything. The short one with orange hair and the widest smile introduces himself as Hinata Shoyo, excitedly leading you to each of his teammates: loud Bokuto, flirty Atsumu, and reclusive Sakusa. You’re left alone with Sakusa when the other three rush off to find a bathroom, having been too excited to use one during your show. 

“I didn’t take you for the bracelet type, Sakusa,” you comment, clocking the single bracelet on his wrist. “The colors are nice, though. They go with your eyes.” You let some of your facade come down, mostly because you figured you didn’t need to be as energetic around this one compared to the others. 

“Yeah, Shoyo let me have one of his. Didn’t realize you had such a passionate fanbase,” he states and you fight the urge to laugh. “Or such a large one.”

“You didn’t think I had fans, Sakusa?” His eyes widen ever so slightly and the chuckle slips out before you can stop it, his ears turning a shade pinker. 

“Not what I said,” he backtracks, avoiding eye contact. “The show was good,” he continues unexpectedly, and you find yourself appreciating his praise more than you should. It was a triumph, in your mind, every time you won over a new listener, and he was no different. At least he wasn’t one of the guys harassing you in your Instagram messages. 

“I appreciate the compliment,” you say and catch his ears turning even redder. As much as he was trying to seem offputting, you could read him like a book. “You guys are in town for a game?”

“We’re playing not tomorrow night, but the night after. Coach would kill us if he knew we were going out before a big game,” he answers and you nod, gears starting to turn in your brain. It would be a headline tomorrow that the four players came to your show, but it would break the Internet entirely if you attended their game, especially in the middle of a sold-out tour. It was the kind of publicity you needed to drown out the tabloids. 

“My last show of this city is tomorrow night, but I can get away with skipping a rest day. Would it be weird if I came to watch you play?”

“You want to watch me play?” Sakusa echoes. The tiniest little smirk plays on the corner of his lips. Ugh. For all his introvertedness, he still had the ego of a pro athlete. “That’s what you’re saying?”

“I meant you guys. Don’t think I forgot about the players that actually came to talk to me,” you correct quickly. You exhale through your nose and shake your head with a small smile. The enthusiastic conversation behind you tells you that the rest of the team is returning. “Fine. Maybe I do wanna see who you are under all that antisocial attitude.” 

“Have fun with that. I don’t like new people,” he says, testing you. Too bad you were used to men that probably weren’t healthy for you. “There’s no changing that.” Your forehead throbs at his pure audacity, but you manage to keep an unbothered expression. 

“Good thing I love a challenge.” 

—

“I didn’t think they’d actually show up,” he mutters, taking another look at the large screens projecting the image of you in a VIP box. Sakusa didn’t recognize you without your concert makeup and stage outfit until Shoyo practically knocked him over in excitement. Seeing you smiling and catching your eye, even from at the bottom of the court, made his stomach turn in a way he wasn’t used to. 

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of that first,” Bokuto beams, sending a powerful serve that barely cilps the top of the net. Sakusa finds his eyes drifting to your box, his scowl deepening when you blow an exaggerated kiss to his teammate. His next serve he puts more effort into, but when he looks up, you’re not even watching. Not only were you crashing his game, you were distracting his team. “Nice plan, Sakusa! Maybe we can become friends with them and go to each others’ events.” 

“That wasn’t my intention,” he cringes, the idea of spending more time with you making him nauseous. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the fact that you were making an effort to engage with him and his friends was outlandish. And all because he invited you to a game? Didn’t you have anything better to do?

“You thought inviting them to the game would scare them away, huh?” Atsumu’s watching Sakusa carefully, inspecting his disgruntled expression under a microscope. “Believe it or not, Omi, some people actually want to be around you…despite how difficult you make it sometimes.” 

“I don’t remember asking for your input,” he threatens, but the blonde Miya merely shrugs, impervious to Sakusa’s warnings. “Can we agree to ignore their presence? Focus on the game. It’s your job.” Atsumu and Bokuto share a look, with typical Hinata none the wiser. Whether they knew it or not, your attendance was throwing off Sakusa’s entire concentration. The average spectator wouldn’t notice the change in Sakusa’s behavior; if anything, they would think he was functioning at a higher level than he usually plays. His serves are stronger, his spikes are sharper, and his steps are quicker than any other player on the court. Fans rave on social media about how focused he is in the game, and the reporters scribble in their notebooks the pressing question for the post-game press conference: Why are you playing so well today? 

“I always play that well,” he mutters, his lie drowned out by the lively conversation around the booth in the corner of the restaurant. The Jackals had cinched an easy victory and Bokuto and Hinata dragged you from your box to get dinner with them. Sakusa sits at the edge of the booth, flanked by Atsumu, followed by Bokuto and Hinata. You sit at the other end, laughing at some dumb story being recounted. It made his forehead pound. “You just don’t notice.” 

“Yeah, right,” Atsumu snickers with another sip of beer. “Admit it, something’s pissing you off.” Maybe I do wanna see who you are under all that anti-social attitude. Your words linger in the back of his mind and fire him up again, unknowingly furrowing his eyebrows and incriminating him. “Yep. Knew it.” 

“Shut the hell up, Atsumu.” He hated that his normally-idiotic teammate was on the cusp of exposing the truth, not to mention the fact that he’d downed one too many soju bombs and was feeling pushier than usual. 

“Is it ‘cause they actually listened to you and showed up?”

“I told you to shut up,” he hisses through gritted teeth. You’re laughing so hard that tears are starting to prickle at the corner of your eyes. It’s the kind of laugh where no noise is actually leaving you and you’re fanning yourself with your hand. Gross. 

“Aww, look at little baby Omi-Omi, finally having a feeling over someone wanting to get to know him,” Atsumu gushes and Sakusa’s ears burn. He threatens his friend with an indescribable death to no avail. “I knew you had a heart under all that coldness!” 

Sakusa’s fist clenches around his glass and he realizes his mistake a split second before there’s a sharp crack! and sudden pain prickles in his palm. “Oh shit, man. I–” His teammate swears under his breath when drops of dark red and amber starts to trickle down Sakusa’s arm, staining the white napkin on his lap. He grinds his teeth down to keep from crying out, the whiskey in his shattered cup burning his raw skin. 

“What happened?” You’re by his side in an instant, your perfume flooding his senses in a way that makes him dizzy. “Jeez, Atsumu. What’d you do?” 

“Why are you blaming me? He’s the one who was holding the cup,” Atsumu says defensively and you shoot him a look. “Fine. I got him riled up and he did,” he gestures to the mess on the table, “that.” 

“Could one of you call your driver please? I think it’s time you three head back to your hotel,” you recommend calmly. 

“What about Sakusa?” Hinata asks as he climbs out from the booth, dragging an apologetic Atsumu and a very buzzed Bokuto toward the door. “He should probably get that checked out.”

“I know. I’ll stay with him,” you reassure him and, after a brief pause of thinking, the short spiker nods and heads for the exit. Sakusa is rigidly still, save for the involuntarily twitching of his injured fingers. “C’mon, let’s go,” you say, gently guiding him out of the booth and grabbing some unused napkins to catch the bleeding. He follows you wordlessly, a million thoughts stewing in his eyes that he refuses to verbalize. He knew he didn’t like you when you tried to read him after your show, but the alcohol in his system was making him despise you. 

You, sitting with him on the way to the nearest hospital. You, carefully looping the elastic bands of his mask over his face before leaving the car. You, politely declining a fan’s attempt to introduce themselves while you’re checking him in at the reception desk. You, listening intently to the doctor as she says that he’ll need stitches in his right hand and that they’ll need to pick every last particle of glass from his palm so that it doesn’t become infected. You, ignoring your vocal coach’s orders for a rest day and staying by his side from 11:00pm to 3:00am when the doctors finally finish his hand. 

He despises you and his pride becomes a gag in his mouth once you drop him off at the Jackals’ hotel, rendering him unable to choke out a simple ‘thank you’ as you continue to treat him with unending kindness. You’ll get hurt if you keep being nice, he thinks to himself, and the way you flinch like you’d been shot tells him he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. He hears you murmur Sleep well, Sakusa, as he shuts the door with his left hand and stalks away, lost in the trenches of his mind. 

—

“But, I’m not sure if it should be the A minor to keep with the chord progression or go to E to create some tension.” Your producer nods at you, his chin resting on his knuckles as you strum your latest song idea on your purple acoustic. It’d been a few days since your late-night trip to the emergency room with Sakusa, and you decided to spend a few hours in the studio before catching your flight to your next tour city. “And when I tried to do it on piano, I just wanted to change the key entirely.” He opens his mouth to speak but is abruptly cut off by three insistent raps on the doorframe of the control room.  

“You have a visitor,” your publicist informs you, peeking her head into the room with a slightly bewildered look in her eyes. “He says it’s urgent.” Your eyebrows dip but you stand anyways, walking through the halls of the recording space until you reach the lobby of the building and stop in your tracks. 

What the hell was he doing here?

“Hey,” Sakusa greets and you blink at him, like he was a figment of your imagination that would disappear if you ignored him. It’s impossible to ignore him, though, considering the outrageously large bundle of flowers cradled in his arm. He follows your eyeline, muttering, “I didn’t know which ones you liked, so I just…bought all of them.”

“I’ll, uh,” your publicist glances at you for a brief moment, giving you an unreadable look before gingerly taking the bouquet from the Olympian in the lobby. “I’ll take these and have them brought to your next hotel, okay?” She dismisses herself, leaving you alone with him. 

“Why are you here?”

“Are you busy right now?” You cross your arms over your chest, annoyed that he replied to your question with a question of his own. Since dropping him off at the team’s hotel, you’d come to peace with his hatred for you even though you’d tried to be nothing but cordial; maybe he could tell that you wanted to be friends for the publicity, you theorized. 

“I’m in a recording studio doing my job, so yeah,” you reply and allow all your suppressed attitude to rear its head. To your surprise, he doesn’t immediately fire back at you. If anything, Sakusa looked uneasy, nothing like the cold confidence you previously saw. “What do you want?”

“Do you have time for lunch?” 

“Oh, now you’re interested in my company,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. In the time following that night at the hospital, you hadn’t received any updates other than an unprompted photo of hungover Atsumu. “Unless you’re ready to apologize for how much of an asshole you’ve been, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I wanna start over,” he says as you turn your back on him to return to the studio. “One meal,” he proposes, “and if you want nothing to do with me after that, I’ll leave you alone.” You check the wall-mounted clock and make your decision. 

“You get two hours.” 

By the time you sneak through the back of a restaurant and sit down to eat, your stomach is turning itself inside out. You thumb through the menu eagerly, ignoring your present company until water glasses are set out and orders are taken. 

“Look,” you begin, peering at him in the dim light, “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“That makes two of us,” he agrees. “You go first.”

“Truth is, I didn’t go to the game to see you, or any of the Jackals, for that matter,” you admit. “I went to get the tabloids off my back and give them a different reason to talk. I didn’t mean to mess up whatever dynamic you guys had going, so for that I am sorry.” You can’t see much of Sakusa’s expression, but you can tell his eyes are on you by the way they shine like a cat’s. It was off-putting, but also drew you in like a black hole. “Is your hand doing okay?”

“It’s better now,” he replies. “Doc’ told me that if we’d left that glass in for longer, it would’ve been more serious.” You nod and take a drink from your water as an excuse not to respond, to see if he would go further. “I, uh,” he swallows thickly, steadying his nerves. “I’m sorry for being avoidant and just being a general asshole. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m…incredibly remorseful.” A puff of air leaves your nostrils in amusement and he can hear you smirk from across the small table. 

“I appreciate the apology, and the apology lunch. Wanna start over without our respective teams breathing down our necks? Friends?” You stick your open hand toward him and he shakes it without hesitation, sealing your deal. “Awesome.” 

“You said ‘tabloids.’ What do they say about you?” Your smile fades and for a moment, he thinks he’s pushed too far too soon. He’s on the brink of apologizing again when you exhale an unsteady breath. 

“The tame ones call me an industry plant,” you explain awkwardly. “The–uh–bolder ones call me a slut.” His nostrils flare and he’s glad there’s no glass in his hand again, otherwise he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t be shattered. “The big drama came from me leaving the producer who’d helped me start my career. The media got the wrong idea, said I’d slept my way into working with him, and left when I’d had my fill.” Sakusa slowly stretches his neck from side to side, willing the sudden tension in his body to relax as he starts to see red. “I hope you can see why I wanted to give them a different reason to talk.” It’s more of a struggle than he expected to keep his voice steady. 

“What actually happened? With the original producer?” You hum in lieu of answering, grateful to catch the approaching servers out of the corner of your eye. 

“I’ll tell you another time,” you dodge, giving him a smile that he can tell is off. “For now, can we eat? I’m so hungry I’m about to eat these silly little herbs in the centerpiece.” 

—

Sakusa stays in Tokyo longer than the rest of his teammates, who depart on the team jet for the next game. He says he wants to do a little more sightseeing, despite having an apartment in the most expensive highrise in the city and knowing the streets like the back of his hand. The truth was, he wasn’t ready to give up the…thing…he’d established with you. He fell into an odd sort of routine: saying goodnight over text, calling you in the morning and telling you what time he’s picking you up, choosing the best places that can shut down for the world’s biggest rockstar on a day’s notice. You were in town for three more days and ended up spending every waking moment of them with Sakusa. 

“You’re really good at dodging the cameras,” you remark over a shared cup of ice cream on your last day, digging your spoon past the numerous toppings you’d insisted on adding. “How do you do it?”

“It helps when I’m not surrounded by the three biggest noisemakers on the planet,” he deadpans and you giggle, a sound he was increasingly becoming fond of the more time he spent with you. “I’m pretty good at laying low. People don’t know where I am unless I want them to know.” 

“Everyone seems to know where I am before even I know,” you frown. “I envy you; I really do.”

“I don’t,” he shrugs.

“Why not?” 

“When you’re trying so hard to avoid people, they tend to stop looking for you. Makes my job easier.” Your lips part in an oh of understanding. “But, I guess you’re here, so either you truly care about my wellbeing or you’re clinically insane.” You burst out laughing, so much so that you snort and have to cover your mouth with a napkin. “My running theory is that it’s a mix of both,” he declares with a rare upturn at the corner of his mouth. 

“Oh, shit,” you mutter once you’ve caught your breath and checked the time on your phone. “I should go. My plane leaves soon and my manager’ll kill me if I’m late. She’s already iffy about me staying in Tokyo this long.”

“What’s your next city?” 

“Madrid. I’m starting the European leg,” you reply while you pack up your things. He stands, walking you to the door of your waiting car. His eyes instinctively scan the surroundings street for cameras, and he subtly positions his body to block you from any passing eyes as you climb into the car. The window makes a humming noise as you roll it down. 

“Have a safe flight.” 

“Don’t be a stranger, yeah? I’ll miss you, even if you don’t want me to.” He memorizes the way the afternoon sunlight catches in your eyes, how each thump of his heartbeat seems louder when you’re near. Something is wrong in my brain, he thinks to himself. Once he’s completely sure your car isn’t being tailed, he dials Atsumu on the drive to the hotel to collect the rest of his things.

“You land already, Miya?” His car purrs beneath his fingertips as he speeds through the busy streets. 

“Safe and sound,” his teammate confirms. “Though jet lag is starting to hit Shoyo and Bo. How were the rest of your dates?” 

“They weren’t dates,” he argues, his hands unconsciously gripping the wheel tighter in indignance. “I was just thanking them for that night.” 

“Yeah, and a bit more than that, I figure.” 

“I don’t even know why I bothered calling you,” he groans.

“Because you want me to say ‘I told you so,’ right? That it was a good idea for me to bring you to that show. You know, a trip to that conveyor belt sushi place will suffice as repayment.”

“In your dreams, Atsumu,” Sakusa deadpans. 

“C’mon, Omi. I know you wouldn’t keep spending time with them if you didn’t feel some kind of tug.” 

“Tug?”

“Like you’re drawn to them,” Atsumu gushes and Sakusa feels like gagging. “Intimately.” Sakusa definitely didn’t think of you that way…right?

“You’re such a pervert.” His disgust is clear, and his speakers blow out with Atsumu’s screams of Not like that! and You don’t even pull enough for me to make fun of! “I’m at the hotel now so I’m gonna hang up. Not sure again why I even bother talking to you.”

“Because I’m your best friend,” Atsumu answers. “See you soon, my sweet Omi~” 

“Remind me to punch you when I touch down.”

—

“How was the show a few nights ago?” 

“Amazing, as always. Almost fell on my ass running around to meet people at the barricade, but thankfully kept my balance,” you chuckle, running the pad of your thumb over the petal of a purple gladiolus. “You can probably see a clip of it on all the fan pages.”

“You think I follow fan pages about you?” 

“What? I follow fan pages about you,” you insist. “User ‘omi-omisbigtits’ has some pretty funny posts of you.” Sakusa groans from the other end of the line.

“That’s the one fan account I have blocked because they post such heinous things,” he recalls. “Did you scroll far enough to see the one where I’m at the zoo and–”

“You’re running away from the peacock, yep,” you finish. Out of the various presents and letters your fans gifted you, you find yourself drawn again and again to the pot of sword lilies. “I screenshotted it and made it your contact photo.”

“I’m never sending you flowers again,” he mutters, but you hear it, snapping your head upwards. 

“These were you?” Your jaw drops so forcefully that it aches. “You’re the mystery flower sender? No one would tell me who sent these!” 

“Because I told them I’d sue if you found out it was me,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes, a grin creeping onto your face. 

“Why’d you want to send them anonymously?” Upon inspecting the color further, you realize where you’ve seen the shade before. 

He’d sent you flowers that matched your favorite guitar. 

“I didn’t wanna distract you before your shows. I was aiming for subtlety.” You blink in disbelief. Sakusa had sent you flowers the night before you started your show run in Paris, knowing you would be at the venue for soundcheck. Maybe he did care about you and your career.

“Well, you failed,” you state, staring at the large bundle of purple taking up half the space on your dressing room’s side table. “This bouquet is the opposite of subtle.”

“Bouquet? I ordered you one stem.”

“No,” you restated. Even though you’d never video called Sakusa before, you switch on your phone’s camera anyway to show him the absolutely gargantuan amount of flowers he mistakenly sent you. “You ordered this.” To your surprise, he turns on his camera as well. His face contorts into such a shocked and puzzled expression that you snort out the water you were sipping, burning your nostrils as tears prickle your eyes. “Stop looking like that, I can’t breathe!”

“What do you mean, ‘stop looking like that?’ I didn’t mean to send you the whole rainforest!” You choke out another uncontrollable laugh, turning the camera to face yourself and setting it in front of your vanity mirror. “Alright, at least you got them.” 

“Yes, and I really appreciate you sending them.” You can tell he’s not used to having his camera on, as he keeps tilting the phone at odd angles and barely showing his face half the time. “What’re you doing right now?”

“Just in bed.” Or a snowstorm, from the looks of it. 

“Why does it look like your poor phone is in a typhoon?” 

“You’re literally so annoying,” he grumbles, reluctantly positioning himself so that he’s sitting against the headboard. With the new point of view, you also notice very quickly that he…is completely shirtless. “Better?”

“Yep, yeah. That’s fine,” you force out, clearing your throat aggressively while the image of his very broad shoulders assault your brain. “Sorry that I didn’t send you flowers for your game.” 

“The guys would give me shit about it if you do, so I’m glad you did not,” he replies. “Though, it does suck not having you around.” 

“This is the closest I’m ever getting to you saying you miss me. I should commemorate it with a plaque.” Sakusa clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile. He must’ve taken a shower recently; his curls look slightly wet and dangle haphazardly across his eyes. You have the sudden urge to run your fingers through it, and then the even more sudden urge to slap yourself for thinking in such a way. 

“What city are you in now? I know you just finished up Dublin.” His voice snaps you out of your daydreaming. 

“Paris,” you manage to reply without too awkward of a pause. “You?”

“Paris.” 

“Huh? I thought your next game was in Brazil,” you ask. His face goes still for a moment and you figure it’s probably frozen from bad service, wherever he is. “Hello?”

“Sorry, you broke up for a second. What were you saying?”

“I was asking why you were in Paris.”

“I’m not in Paris,” he states. “I’m in Seoul.” 

“Isn’t your next game in Brazil?” He pauses for an almost imperceptible amount of time.

“Game schedule got rearranged. We’re in Seoul, then the States, then Brazil.” 

“Oh. I see.” A loud series of knocking on your dressing room door makes you jump. “Ah, I’m sorry. I need to go.” 

“Rockstar duties?”

“You know it,” you yawn, taking one last indulgent look at the exposed muscle on his shoulders. “Hopefully we both get some rest for the coming days.”

“Yep. G’night.” 

—

There was a little bit of lingering guilt on his end after you hang up; the fact that he’d lied to you about his whereabouts didn’t escape him. 

He wasn’t sure what came over him, what sentimental demon temporarily possessed him to take a plane to wherever you were (Paris, not the lie that he gaslit you into believing) and buy a last minute ticket to your show. His emotions and desires were thrown completely off balance; he truly didn’t care if he was up in the nosebleeds if it meant he got to see you. Thankfully, a wealthy couple had bought out an entire area of club seats for their granddaughter’s birthday, but decided last minute that they wanted to fly to Cancun. It made him a little anxious, having all that space to himself, but he figured he could have his guards and team invite family to make it a little less lonely. It didn’t matter how many strangers he needed to meet or how much he had to spend. 

He just wanted to see you. 

He finds himself in a familiar position from the first time he went to one of your shows, rooted under the awning of the expansive lounge area and just out of sight from fans. His arms unconsciously cross over his chest and the beads of the bracelet he’d dug through his luggage to find presses against his skin. But, this time, he isn’t annoyed by the pain; if anything, it reminds him that he’s actually here with you, even if you don’t know it yet. 

I’m pretty good at laying low. People don’t know where I am unless I want them to know. His words echo back to him and he makes his decision, stepping out into the stadium lights and resting his forearms on the railing. 

He wants you to know he’s there. 

The first fan to notice is a girl in purple, slapping her friend furiously until they both are gawking at him. One pair of eyes becomes two, which becomes five, which becomes twenty, until hundreds of phone cameras are pointed at him and snapping photos. The sentimental demon possesses him again and he sticks up an involuntary peace sign, even going so far as to smile to look less bored. They scream for him and he thinks the sentimental demon is Atsumu, because he finds himself imitating his teammate’s movements. His hands clap together and he gestures for fans to toss him bracelets, which become an impossible shower as dozens are thrown at once. By the time the lights dim and news of his presence is trending across the continent, his arms are covered in sleeves of rainbow beads. 

— 

The ache in your feet is immediately replaced by adrenaline when your head of security informs you who came to the show. You don’t bother waiting for the golf cart to bring you to the back of the stadium and take off sprinting, chunky heels and all. They’re calling after you to hold on to let the rest of your team catch up, but you don’t listen. The stadium staff look at you fondly but also have a reasonably startled reaction to you running like you’d escaped from an asylum. 

You round the corner absolutely heaving and his face breaks into a wide smile. You’d never seen him look like that before, never at his games or during any of the time you’d spent together. It was an expression reserved for only you in this moment. You don’t remember if he catches you or if you embrace him first, but soon enough your face is tucked into the crook of his neck, eyes squeezed shut and grinning like a lunatic. His arms are rock solid around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer until you can hear his heartbeat slamming against his ribcage. Neither of you speak for a few minutes because you don’t feel the need to; only when you pull away to hold his face with your hands do you manage to articulate words. 

“You’re here,” you breathe. “You’re actually here.” Recognition blinks onto your face and you suddenly frown, lightheartedly slapping his shoulder, saying, “You lied! Your dumb ass said you were in Seoul!” 

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he concludes unapologetically. “I did slip up with my story a few times, though.”

“Yeah, you got your own game schedule wrong.” 

“To be fair, some games did get rescheduled, which is why I’m able to be here. Our next game’s in Seoul, which is why I blanked and said that instead,” he explains and you respond with an exasperated eyeroll. “Find it in your heart to forgive me?” 

“I see right through you, Sakusa Kiyoomi. You don’t…uhm…” He comes close enough that you can count his eyelashes and it takes you a few seconds to recompose yourself. “Mmm, you wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid,” you challenge and hope he doesn’t hear the butterflies going wild in your stomach. 

“Maybe I do,” he smirks and it only makes the situation more sweat-inducing. “I missed you, after all.” Your eyes flutter closed as he leans in but instantly shoot back open, gently pushing him away as he pouts. “What is it?”

“Take me out to dinner, first. If you apologize sufficiently for being a terrible liar, maybe you’ll get a kiss,” you propose and he’s already lacing his fingers in yours. 

“Good thing I love a challenge.” 

— 

In spite of his attempts to ignore the cameras and the footsteps that were always a few feet behind him, there was a pit in his stomach every time Sakusa was in public with you. He couldn’t figure out why he was so irked, but the feeling made it difficult to enjoy how you smiled at him in quiet moments and pointed out things he’d never think to notice before. Most perplexingly, you didn’t seem bothered at all by the cameras. It was like they disappeared as soon as he came into your proximity; you barely spared them a glance in favor of beaming up at him. 

Even though you agreed that there was a feeling more than platonic between you two, he hadn’t mustered up the urge to kiss you properly, opting for your forehead or your hands instead. It didn’t seem to bother you, the way he only reserved showing his affection when you were out of view. But, he slips up the night before you have to part ways, him for his next game and you for your final European date. The dread he’d experienced for days felt like intuition telling him something was inherently wrong, like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff he didn’t know the height of. 

It comes crashing down when the tabloids catch him holding your hand.

“Can you believe this?” You snort, showing Sakusa the headline as he forces down the bile in his throat. “They think you’re my next ‘big catch,’ like you’re a fish or something,” you chuckle obliviously, leaning into him on the living room couch of his hotel suite. He manages a pained mhmm and watches as you continue to scroll through the news site, the photos of him holding your hand and grabbing your waist flying by like a nightmarish film reel. He rubs his palms back and forth over the fabric of his sweats, feeling suddenly feverish from every single point where your body was touching his. Clearing his throat, he swallows thickly and you finally look at him, concern pinching in your eyebrows. Your voice is gentle and you reach up to feel his forehead; he dodges your hand and you carefully hide your disappointment. “Hey, are you feeling okay?”

“We can’t do this.” His heart sinks as you sit up and blink at him, his words registering slowly in your mind. “I can’t…I can’t do this with you,” he sputters out. You exhale a single time and he watches your eyes flick from side to side, your brain running a thousand miles a minute.

“I don’t understand.”

“We need to stop.” You laugh forcefully, like you were commanding your body to feel lighter. 

“If this is a joke, Kiyoomi, it isn’t funny–”

“It’s not a fucking joke; you need to stop being with me,” he snaps and the room falls silent. The only thing he can hear is his heartbeat rushing through his ears, his face hotter than the sun. 

“Why?” Your voice breaks and so does something in him, his jaw clenching unconsciously. 

“You need to stop being nice to me,” he says through gritted teeth, “because I can’t guarantee I’ll be nice back.” This is how it always ends. Push them away before things get messy. This is how it works for Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

“But you have been nice,” you fight back, your grief morphing into unfiltered rage as you stand and scream at him. “You sent me flowers. You bought me dinner. You flew across the world to see my fucking show!” 

“That doesn’t matter. None of it mattered.” His composure wavers momentarily, unreadable emotions flashing across his face. “You can’t be close to me without getting hurt.” He gestures to your phone, the paparazzi image of you two together brighter than a Times Square billboard. 

“Who said it needed to be that way?” 

“Everyone did!” He stands without warning and you flinch backward, stumbling against the coffee table. “People think I’m an asshole, so that’s how I choose to stay. At the very least, I can predict things and prevent people from getting too close. You’re too close.”

“But you’re not an asshole. You’ve shown me that much,” you insist, arguing with his back as he starts to retreat into the master suite. What you say next makes him freeze, trapped in an endless time loop with you. 

Tell me you care for your friends. 

“What?” He’s seething as he turns, meeting your eyes. “What the fuck do you mean, do I–”

“Do you care about your friends?” You repeat, stepping closer to him. His eyes are burning, molten to the core even when you refuse to shrink away. “If Bo, Shoyo, and Atsumu were dying in a fucking fire, would you save them?”

“Of course I would,” he spits indignantly. “What kind of–”

“Then you have the capacity to love, Kiyoomi, as much as you don’t want to admit it.” You’re crying, tears streaming uncontrollably down your cheeks. Why are you crying? He never wanted to make you cry. What did he do to make you cry? 

“Because the last time you loved something, people scorned you.” They told him his passion was suffocating. They told him he was walking a path that one could only walk alone. He’s frozen, his feet left immobile on the hotel carpet. He makes no sound beside shaking exhales and can sense nothing but your voice coming closer.  

“You made it your career to prove that it’s worthy of your love…but you forgot how to love anything else.” Time slows. He doesn’t remember when your face appeared so close to his. He can see a universe behind your eyes and he wants nothing more than to hold you and call you his. His passion was suffocating. It would hurt you. It would burn you. It would–

“I wish you could love yourself as much as I love you.” 

One breath, and then another. 

A crack in an eggshell. A hole in a fortress. 

You are an asteroid completely obliterating the planet he considered himself. 

And when he finally kisses you properly, he understands just how freeing being destroyed could be. 

—

Sakusa Kiyoomi did not like cameras. They were gnats buzzing around his head, calling for him to look this way and that, catching his every reaction to whatever crossed his path. They were broken whispers that floated to his ears, unintelligible conversations that stayed as voices in his head. He did not like cameras, but he found that looking at you was infinitely better than looking at anything else. 

“You doing okay?” Your murmur is the only thing he hears, quieting the rest of the chatter around him. Swaths of dresses and suits brush against his arms and he fights the instinct to shield you from view, despite being sat in the very center of the huge theater. It was the biggest award show of the season, and he’d made a vow with himself that he wouldn’t ruin tonight for you. With your hand in his, as long as he had physical contact with you, it was easier to keep the doubts in his mind at bay. “I’m feeling fine, if that’s what you need to know.” 

“I’m doing okay as long as you’re okay,” he confirms softly, barely sparing a glance at the giant lens a few feet from his face. “I’m here to celebrate you. I won’t let them bother me tonight.” You beam at him, opening your mouth to say something when a commotion comes tumbling down the aisle. “Actually,” he mutters as his three teammates trip over themselves to find their seats in the rest of the row, “Do you think I can have one nasty scowl? I promise I’ll behave otherwise.” 

“Having a rockstar best friend is like, the best thing ever,” Bokuto declares before you can respond to Kiyoomi. 

“I’m so glad Omi finally got his head out of his ass, too,” Atsumu drawls with an unbothered yawn that makes Sakusa’s blood boil. The blonde Miya sibling had been very vocal with the press about playing as the matchmaker, pointedly dodging questions about his own romantic status. “I think I’ll secretly have ‘I told you so’ engraved on the inside of your wedding rings.”

“Over my dead body,” Kiyoomi grumbles and you smile, squeezing his hand once. He squeezes back, pressing a rare public kiss to the side of your head. You shift your body to lean more closely to his and your wrist presses down on something wrapped around his wrist. 

“What’s under your sleeve?”

“Hmm? Oh, this?” He pulls back the freshly ironed fabric to reveal a familiar pattern of green and yellow beads, out of place compared to the rest of his formal attire. “Got it from a concert,” he smirks knowingly. “The show was cool, but I think I’m in love with the artist.”

“Yeah? You never figured out what that acronym stands for, did you?” He shakes his head and you point at each letter bead, explaining, “No one knows me like you do, and no one ever will.” 

“Well, isn’t that fitting?” The lights dim and the orchestra starts to play its signature fanfare, spotlights gliding in aimless directions across the audience. “Thank you for helping me understand.”

“The meaning of the lyric? Of course, I think of you every time I sing it, now,” you smile. 

“No, about what you said that night when we argued.” He feels a familiar blush creeping up his cheeks. “About loving me how you love me.”

“And do you get it now?”

“I do,” he nods, glancing at the colorful bracelet on his wrist and your fingers intertwined with his. “I just needed a little bit of convincing.” Your head settles on his shoulder and he lets you, allowing himself to relax in spite of the sea of cameras surrounding him. 

“Good thing I love a challenge.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[booksandabeer]

Stucky, Fandom Longevity, and "Primacy Bias"

There’s this post that's been floating around the past few days about how the Stucky fandom in its heyday produced fic and art masterpieces like they were all collectively possessed by an unprecedented spirit of creative insanity. It’s a good, fun post and I agree with the person who wrote it. (not rb'ing because I didn't want to hijack their post with something that's only tangentially related).

It was indeed a magical time and the creative output in both quantity and quality in the two-year period following the release of CA:TWS is—with perhaps a few exceptions—unmatched by anything that I’ve seen before and since. However, going through the notes on that post, I noticed something that left me a little irritated and quite frankly sad since it is in congruence with, and to a certain extent the confirmation of something that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.

For one thing, there are so many people in the notes expressing sentiments along the lines of “it was such a wonderful time; I wish I could go back; I miss these fics; I want to read these fics again,” etc., etc., you get it. And it feels a little silly pointing this out, but…you can just do that? Almost all of these fics are still right there, waiting for you to be (re)read. Yes, a lot of people left the fandom after The Great Devastation of 2019, but their stories didn’t just disappear. It's not like there is now a big, black hole where the Steve/Bucky tag used to be on AO3. So, if you miss these fics and you want to revisit them—just do it. Chances are the authors will be delighted that people are still finding and enjoying their stories all these years later. And—since apparently this needs saying, too, judging from the notes on that post: A lot of people seem to be very concerned with losing ‘coolness points’ for openly admitting that they still miss the ship and often feel tempted to dip their toes back into the Stucky pool. I don’t know how to tell you this, but if someone tries to shame you for simply enjoying or missing something, they are an asshole. Not to mention that all this is happening on tumble.com—'coolness' doesn't exactly live here. And that is a good thing, to be clear. Fandom is not about being cool. It’s about being as enthusiastic, as silly, as absolutely fucking unhinged about the things you love as you want to be. So, stop caring what other people think and enjoy yourself.

The other thing is that there seems to be a pretty widespread misconception that the Stucky fandom hasn’t produced any good fanworks after 2016.

First, that is patently and demonstrably untrue. There is so much incredibly good fanfiction and fanart still out there. Not as much as back in the day, sure, but it still exists. And more is being posted every day! Even some of the OG Big Names are still around. One of the most beloved Stucky series that started all the way back in 2014 was updated as recently as December of last year. The artist, who I believe the op is referring to as creating ‘baroque’ paintings, posted their latest Stucky art not even two months ago.

Second, I find this “primacy bias” more than just a little insulting to the many hardworking and incredibly talented people who are still putting their blood, sweat, and tears into creating for this community. And it’s one thing if people who have long left the fandom believe or say something like this, but it’s frankly irritating when I see people who are still very much active—and therefore definitely should know better—feed into that same false myth. Yes, it sucks that the Stucky ship isn’t as big as it used to be, but that doesn't mean there isn't any 'fresh talent' to be found anymore. I’m also not saying we shouldn’t still celebrate and recommend older works—I do it all the time! And it sure as hell doesn't mean everyone has to reblog absolutely everything all the time, either. Your blog, your rules.

But maybe we should put a little more focus on the good things, on the creators and the community we have now, especially if we want that community to still exist in another ten years. I mean, imagine you’re a person who’s just gotten into the fandom (because yes, there are indeed still new people discovering Stucky all the time) and one of the first things you’re being told is “eh, nice that you're here, but you’re about 7 years late; the big party is already over.” Does that seem like a fun space to hang out in to you?

So. Let’s all—and I do not exclude myself from this because God knows, I love to complain—spend a little less time mourning the ‘good old days’ that are never coming back anyway, and instead focus our attention on enjoying and appreciating both the incredible treasure chest of an archive we have AND the wealth of high-quality art and fic that is still being created by this wonderful community every single day. With this in mind:

🥳🎊Happy Stucky Week 2023!!! 🎊🥳

*I want to make it very clear that this is a general thing that’s been on my mind lately and that I’m trying to work through here—probably not very coherently. I'm not trying to tell anybody 'how to do fandom' and I’m most definitely not vagueposting about any particular incident, person, or group in this fandom. This isn’t a callout post. It’s an I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this and I don’t know what else do with them post.

[writtensturn]

in the moment | c.s

PAIRING : chris sturniolo x hispanic!gf

GENRE : fluff?

SUMMARY : chris’s girlfriend is dominican, and at her cousins birthday party, chris wonders off too come back to surprise her.

!WARNINGS! : use of y/n, cursing.

✮⋆˙

y/n was making her way into the backyard of her aunts house, they were celebrating her cousins seventh birthday, and if you knew how hispanic parties work, they last forever. it was around 11pm and she was talking to family slipping a few drinks from under them, she watched as her family and her cousins friends danced around and had fun. her family adored chris, they always said he was a different “type” of white. as her favorite artist, romeo santos came on she held onto chris’s arm singing almost every lyric to him.

“y/n, baby..” chris laughed

“promise you’ll hold me, touch me, love me. way past forever” she sung to her boyfriend across from her

“promise” chris spoke with a huge smile on her face, agreeing to the song that she held so dearly. as y/n turned to watch her family dance and hold on to eachother, it warmed her heart the one time of the year they all looked genuinely happy and got along.

“see how their moving" she pointed to a pair in the crowd, feeling chris nod in agreement.

"we call that bachata, the way the song has the little clicks is when you change. i think its so romantic, its all in the hips." she explained ending her sentence with a shrug. she turned to see chris's eyes on her, feeling his smirk almost instantly. she shook her head and pushed his shoulder

“oh enough christopher” she knew his mind went directly in the gutter with that one

“what? i didn’t do a thing” chris spoke back to her with the same smirk plastered across his lips

“yeah yeah” she sneered turning her head to look at him, her head tightly slightly as she took a moment to admire his features, the way they looked back at her. she felt chris’s hand come up to brush the hair out of her face, pushing it behind her ear and come back down to run his fingertips along her arm.

“i’ll be back” chris said bringing his face closer to hers and pressing his lips against her softly before standing up and walking away, before she could say anything he was already to far for him to hear.

meanwhile

chris moved into her aunts house finding the cousin she was closest with

“hey can you help me out for a sec? it’s for y/n” chris asked

“uhh yeah” jay said back to him with a smile while she stood up, she moved chris to another room.

“i need you to need me how to dance.. um..” chris spoke lost on the word

“bachata?” jay said while raising a brow

“yes!” chris nodded

“ja, okay..” jay let out a laugh towards chris, she took his hands and looked up at him a little awkwardly.

“do you just kinda-.” she moved in twos, popping her hip on the beat that you could hear from outside.

“that’s it?” chris raised his brow

“oh honey..” jay laughed again

“you try.” she challenged, she watched as chris moved with her, the two starting together. she raised her brow impressed on how he was moving, she moved closer in dancing how they would outside.

“i’m shocked” she shook her head at her cousins boyfriend

“what why” chris shook his head back

“you’ve got some spice don’t ya” she scoffed as the two laughed and continued to move together in her room

“what’s her favorite song.. yk like these” chris asked, jay pulled away from him stopped the synced movements between the two.

“just go there, i got it.” she smiled as the two started to walk out

“you’re good for her you know? you care. it means a lot” jay nodded as they headed outside, chris couldn’t help but smile as the two parted him walking back to find y/n.

“hey baby where’d you go?” she stood up wrapping her arms around his sides, chris shook his head at her attachment holding her against him. he turned his head to see jay nodding at him and hearing the song change, she watched as y/n’s head perked up.

“i love this song so much” she closed her eyes before looking up at him

“dance with me ma?” chris smiled down at her admiring her features, she looked up at him, her expression confused.

“what.” she spoke and as soon as she could get another word out she felt the two moving closer to the center, chris’s arms fell onto her hips and her hands moving around his neck. as the song started picking up she felt the two move in sync holding onto one another, she looked up at him shocked and impressed that he knew how. she never taught him out of embarrassment but now that they were here she didn’t care, her little fantasy of them two dancing together to her favorite song.

“pongo en ti toda mi fe me arrodillo a tu merced y aunque hable nunca me arrepiento” she sung softly looking directly into him, meaning her words.

“what’s that mean” chris furrowed his brows

“you’ll figure it out eventually” she nodded with a smirk

“i love you ma” chris smiled down at her hearing the song end

“i love you too mi amor”

guys someone requested this and im lowk so obsessed with the idea of this, i think its adorable.

[fabiensnamelessworld]

The Dynamic Between Fans and Artists

Hello everyone

Not long ago I was browsing in my playlist and stumbled on Eminem-Stan ft. Dido and I listened to it a few times in a row (still listening to it as I write this blog, ngl). Just as reminder, it basically talks about a fan that is too obsessive and takes his life in the end because he did not receive the attention he was seeking, at least not in time. And it made me think about the dynamic between fans and their favourite artist.

Today we easily see how huge and active some fandoms are, you just have to look at the top artists, for example just take Taylor Swift’s fanbase.

My opinion about it, is that we may see in the future the worsening of this situation. When you look at the past you can see that there were already huge fandoms ins the 80s/90s, and that there were already problems with them. And the situation worsened with time and the close accessibility thanks to social media and network. It made the fans more entitled to “own” their favourite artist. And that raise another question: Do the artists are responsible of their fans? With this question some will respond yes, and one of their arguments is “the artist owes us”, in the sense that the audience made the artist famous. Well, that can make sense, the artist grows thanks to the listeners but it stops there, because the artist isn’t under a contract with the public, the public don’t pay them to do albums/singles and whatsoever, they pay them to see them perform or for their merch but that’s just that. In the end I just agree that they owe us respect and gratefulness. The first goal of an artist is to express himself and not to please someone else.

About the worst part of fanbases, the “stans”, I think it’s not because of the artist. It is just a problem of mental health. We see today that it is a more and more recurrent problem that put in danger the stan himself but also the artist and his entourage and even the other fans. And in this the social network plays big part in it. Nowadays it is easier to contact someone, plus depending on the platform you can see if your message was seen or not. It is easier to track someone too, just look at the people who tack down all the flights of Taylor Swift. In the end we can say the problem is the social network, but no, if you look in the past there are several cases of fans who suffered from Celebrity Obsession Disorder. One of the examples that comes to my mind is the murder of John Lennon. The solution is to be helped by professionals and maybe the artist can help to some extant too, but that is difficult because there are a lot of fans seeking attention. What should do the artist? because it is utopian to believe that the artist responds to all. So, the solution is what? selecting people? but on which criteria? This will ultimately lead to disappointment for some.

In the end my opinion about that dynamic is that artists should continue to make us enjoy what they produce and stay relatively close to us and that fans should support each other and the artist and should try to distance themselves from the situation. We should just enjoy the moment to the fullest.

Thanks for reading and let me know your thoughts about it.

[nothingtherefornow]

Hot take: I don’t think Marinette did anything wrong in Volpina.

1. Lila was sexually harassing Adrien and being WAAAAY too handsy with him when he was visibly not comfortable with.

2. She stole something clearly important from him.

3. Lila’s lies about having a miraculous and being best friends with Ladybug when a magical terrorist is active are not only stupid BUT DANGEROUS.

4. Lila was lying about ladybug so Ladybug did have a right to call her out for it.

Oh Believe me, Lila totaly asked for it, if she just lied about being Ladybug's best friend maybe Marinette would have let that slide, but the liar was taking things too far by pretending to be a miraculous wielder less than a day after meeting Adrien just to impress him.

And if we could argue that maybe Ladybug was harsher than she should have been with Lila in Volpina, and that she reacted too impulsively, I totally see where she was coming from.

What reaction should you expect from somoene whom you're lying about just to leech on their celebrity in order to increase your own popularity ? And on top of that seeing those lies being used to manipulate one you're in love with ? Maybe Marinette should have kept a cold head, but I totally understand that she didn't, at her age I sure wouldn't have. And I think that Lila deserved to be called out on her lies anyway, especially in front of Adrien who was being fooled and taken advantage of by Lila.

Adrien is used to the vagaries of celebrity life, including potential lies and gossip about his person in addition to hysterical fans and his image being constantly publicly used, and therefore he could not understand the legitimate anger of Ladybug who is not used to that kind of celebrity that can be abused by random people for their own interests. That said, I wonder if Adrien would still have dared his quick and short outburst of anger at Ladybug when he saw her "humiliating" Lila, if he had known that in addition to lying to him, the latter had also stolen his father's book.

And on top of that, we're not talking about some harmless liar who just want to impress other people, we're talking about a potential psycopath who was already committing acts of identity fraud, truancy and scaming, and deceiving three innocent women into wrongly thinking of "Lila" as their daugther, while the girl seems to collect false mothers and identities like one collect tee-shirts.

So yeah I definitly can't say that Lila didn't derserved to have her ego taken down a few pegs.

And I don't think that Ladybug never calling Lila out on her lies would have made things better for her. Sure she could have avoided Volpina and maybe heroes days, but the rest ? In Oni-chan Lila targeted Kagami just after learning that the japanese girl was a friend of Adrien from fencing, and in the same episode she saw that Adrien was still infatuated will Ladybug, something she also quickly noticed during Volpina. And being a love rival seems enough to warrant Lila's hatred and hostility.

Remember how Lila went back on her words to let Marinette chose to be with her or against her when Lila saw Adrien chose to sit with Marinette over sitting with her in Chameleon ? After that Lila never let Marinette give her her answer and immediately declared war on her.

On top of that during the following seasons, Marinette no longer really tried to denounce Lila's lies and left the liar alone, and yet that did not prevent Lila from developing this strong hatred and obsession towards Marinette which we had proof of in Perfection . All because Marinette called her on her lies oncea nd is a rival in love for Adrien's heart ? You'll agree that this is a a disproportionate or even irrational reaction, and therefore further demonstrates that Lila is not at all a healthy person in her head, and that whatever the way Ladybug could have handled Lila in Volpina, the con artist would still have become threat sooner or later.

Lila would still have been contacted by Gabriel since the scenario of Oni-chan doesn't need Ladybug calling out on Lila's lies in Volpina to happen. Gabriel would in any case still have encouraged Lila to develop her plan in the Ladybug episode, and from there the events would have remained the same, with or without Ladybug's intervention during Volpina. Lila would still have ended up discovering Monarch's secret identity, and would still have put together her plan to get the butterfly miraculous in the season 5 finale.

Conclusion, Ladybug indeed did nothing wrong during Volpina. Because as Astruc himself confirmed in a recent interview, Lila is a supervillain all the time, with or without superpowers, which means that she was already one when she arrived at Françoise-Dupont for the first time

[dreamingonclds]

Everything Happens For A Reason | LN4

Summary: Sometimes the people that love us hurt us the most but, you can't seem to stay away. After an immense break up, you've become the most passionate in your career. Going from casting to casting, concert to concert, audition to audition, you become one of the most famous artists of your generation. You were done picking up the broken pieces of your heart when somebody comes into your life and you place your heart in someone else's hands again.

Word Count: 968

Pairing: Lando Norris x female! reader ft. Carlos Sainz

Warnings: none

Chapter 2

Previous Chapter

After what felt like the longest 2 weeks Jen and you were finally on the 14 hour flight to Monaco. You could burst with excitement, one of your biggest dreams was to go to a Grand Prix. Now, you were just trying to catch up with the current season. You’re an extremely busy person so the most you could do was check the race standings online. You knew all the current drivers already, following them on instagram and all. But, you had never seen any of the grill the grid videos or any social media content. It’s safe to say you regret not keeping up with it but your love for the sport never faltered.

Jen’s beside you working on her laptop, or so you thought. She suddenly gasps and starts slapping your side causing you to jump

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” she semi yells causing some people to give you weird looks

“Holy shit Jen you scared the crap out of me” you say as you put your hand to your chest

“Sorry not sorry” she giggles at you as she places her laptop on your lap

“What was that guys name, Lando, the one you “used” to have a crush on” she says as she add air quotes after his name

You nod yes at her waiting for her to continue

“I was watching some interviews and look” she says excitedly as she puts her headphones on you and presses play

The video starts and it’s a QnA of the McLaren boys, each taking turns interviewing each other.

Looking down at his cards and then looking back up at Oscar, “Who is my celebrity crush?” asks Lando

“Oh umm easy, that girl that sings the song that goes “my heart wants what it wants”. She was in this movie I just watched. Whats her name, oh yeah Y/N Y/L/N” Oscar says confidently

“You know me so well” Lando says proudly,  looking from Oscar to the camera

“Oh it’s not like you only ever play her music or have her picture as your background” Oscar laughs and teases Lando

Lando blushes furiously and hides behind his cards, leaning back laughing and nearly tipping over the chair

“See, see, look!” Oscar says pointing at the staff who were also giggling and nodding agreeing with what Oscar just confessed

“You didn’t have to expose me like that man” Lando says once he catches his breath and recollects himself

Looking at the camera Lando says, “I mean can you blame me, look”

He takes his phone out his pocket and shows is proudly to the camera

“If you guys really loved me you would try and bring her to one of the races” Lando suggests to the Mclaren team jokingly

“If you get pole or a win, we’ll see what we can do”, one of the team members says

“Actually!”, Lando and Oscar yell at the same time

“Wait nevermind, I take it back, I’d be a mess around her. Just thinking about it makes me nervous”, he says as he fidgets with his hand and shifts in his chair

…

Now it’s your turn to blush, you don’t even want to turn and look at Jen. Never in a million years would you think your crush would be reciprocated or that any F1 driver would know who you are.

“Jen that video isn’t even that recent, I'm sure that his “crush” has passed”, you say finding it hard to believe

“Are you serious! He has you as his background, on his PHONE! You only do that when you really like someone” she says 

“And you know it!” she says accusingly, pointing her finger at you

You shyly smile and turn to look out the plane window to hide your blushing cheeks

“Ok, you have a point but that video is nearly a year old. I doubt I've even crossed his mind recently. He’s been so focused on his career to even think about me. People move on Jen it’s okay, it’s not that serious. Besides it was just a crush, no actual feelings involved.”, you say disappointedly and surprised you feel that way

“So”, she says giving up on her argument

You both sit in silence for a couple seconds before you hear her move in her seat

“Wait” she says as she has an epiphany

“No offense but, why would they invite you to a race? I mean, I don’t think you’ve ever spoken about F1 publicly”

“No, I know what you mean”, you cut her off, giggling at her honesty

“Unless he still likes you, I mean like you said, that video was nearly a year old. He must still have a crush on you!”, she says excitedly

You finally turn back to look at her

“Oh my god, you have a point. They actually made it happen!”, you say agreeingly

“They fucking made it happen!” she yells making other passengers look at your direction

You both mouth and whisper yell sorry’s towards the people and laugh at Jen’s lack of decorum. After you both calm down you suddenly get butterflies on your stomach.

“Oh god, I’m nervous now, I wasn’t before”, you say worriedly grabbing Jen’s hand

“You have absolutely nothing to worry about, you are literally Y/N Y/L/N. We just have to dress to impress you know. Might catch more than just his eyes.” she says, smiling slyly

“Classic Jen” you tell her as you slap your forehead

“What? This can be the start of something new! I bet it will be” she says confidently turning to look at you

You turn to look out the window once again, smiling at all the possibilities. Wondering if what Jen just said will have any truth to it.

“We’ll see” you finish

[greenleaf777]

Being relatively new to this fandom I just have to say that this Acotar fandom is unbelievable disrespectful to each other in term of ship wars. Where’d the etiquette go?. I see NONSTOP anti-shippers posting/reblogging/commenting/harassing on the ship posts they don’t agree with. On insta, tiktok, tumblr, twitter, etcetc. Also tagging ships that are not related to the post or tagging ships/characters you are making fun of is pretty low of you.

Am I the only one that has absolutely lost their patience with it. Just some examples cause it happens with ALL ships. Do not start discussing how elucien or gwynriel is better on a artists fanart of Elriel. If i was an artist trying to show my love for something and someone did that i would lose my shit on them. Or don’t post about how awful Nesta is on a nessian or nesta appreciation post. Or Don’t tell an azris(whatever eris and az ship is called not sure) that azriel and elain are true mates on their post. Why would you even do that in the first place?

If you see a post about a ship someone is celebrating that has nothing to do with your ship why are you pushing your ship or opinion on said ship on other people? WHY?

Mind your own business. Make your own post. Ship whatever you want. Pushing your ship on others is rude and won’t make them change their mind and will in fact make people angry and start fights. Thats the WHOLE POINT of tagging things and blocking tags too.

If you think i’m out of my mind thinking Elaine and Azriel will be endgame in the next book leave me to my delusions please. Thanks

Its also very hard to avoid ships/topics that can cause triggers when they are everywhere you look.

No matter how mean and rude you are about your ship SJM is still not going to write what you want and instead will write whatever she pleases, so just live in peace for gods sake. What will be will be.

If you think you should be able to start fights and be disrespectful let me know here so i can block you, thanks.

Also just curious what is the bryce and azriel ship called?

[electricsynthesis]

lance - sorry to teenagers in fanon in 2016 but I don’t think lance would listen to the pop hits of the 2010s. I think lance is too hip for that. He is not listening to pop from 100~ years ago. (Or more, nobody can agree on when the show takes place & I think that’s beautiful). lance is listening to the billboard top 100. He’s listening to what people are talking about . I imagine their pop music as very synthetic, almost edm, with loud vocals over top of it. Less bass than we have in our pop music, more tenor. he’s into particular celebrities and while he likes their music, and he says it’s about the music, he’s more into the celebrities really than the music. he’s into his eras version of, like, Britney Spears. Because they’ve gotta have an edge to them. Some controversy. if they’re too squeaky clean he gets bored

hunk - whatever the sci fi future equivalent of melancholy, heavily vocal guitar indie music. the kind of music that’s more poetry than it is really music. Stuff made by underground artists. it’s all emotional, ranging from sappy to comforting to sad. he likes love songs about pining but they make him really emotional . He also likes pop music generally, soft hip hop and r&b. also atmospheric music. He strikes me as the type of nerd to listen to a lot of video game osts because of the sweeping orchestral vibes, but for some reason refuses to just listen to actual classical music. Feels too pretentious but then he just listens to orchestras perform the video game osts anyway so lol

pidge - god’s most annoying electronica. I think 100 years of sci fi future is going to make hyperpop one of the whackiest music genres and pidge is right there with it. She wants pitchy, bit-crushed squealing. she wants electronic shrieking. she wants voices autotuned to the point of nigh unrecognizability. I think she also listens to more normal electronica, which I think is more mainstream in their era. Stuff we would associate with weird youtube electronica is a whole cast genre. She’s really into it. She knows all the bands, all the subgenres, all the specific sounds of each one. Matt finds this so fucking annoying because she plays it out loud and he h a t e s it. After she joins team voltron lance gets to take over matts place here

keith - forgive me for this, but I do think keith listens to what WE would call numetal. But it’s like. Classic metal, to him. Og metal. Like I think he literally listens to linkin park. I’m saying that keith kogane listens to 100 year old music. He heard it all from his crazy ass paranoid conspiracy theorist father, who only uses analogue tech because he’s terrified of the garrison finding out about his fuzzy purple alien long distance wife and his alien hybrid child. so he plays like, breaking Benjamin cds on an old boombox. This is the only kind of music keith likes . He’s ok with modern metal but he prefers what we would call classic metal. he doesn’t like emo music

allura -

So I have really detailed thoughts on what constitutes “music” and how that may be defined for alien cultures in sci fi. I’ve thought about this extensively since I was 14 and the conclusion I’ve come to is that altean music is the most industrial, heavy, absolutely dark fast paced noisemusic ever conceived. Metal grinding against metal. Plates shrieking against each other. Dull thumping on thick glass. String instruments that squeak and squeal. sudden starts and stops. Heavy drums you can feel in your teeth. clanking. whistling. wheezing. All the kinds of noises you hear in altean music. coran prefers more “classical” altean music, which entails more drums and strings (of the shrieking variety). allura prefers the “modern” (of her youth) altean music, their equivalent to pop, which is more industrial & metal grindy.

She excitedly shows the humans some altean music only to find them absolutely repulsed. Just, like, they’re trying to be nice. But when I say industrial I mean like, a collection of noises that we wouldn’t even categorize as music. so they can’t help the just inherent misunderstanding. except keith, he fucking LOVES it. He goes WILD for it. Allura convinces him to actually dance to it and they just flail around wildly.

he tries to show allura the music that he likes but sadly divorced dad rock doesn’t do much for her. But through their & pidge’s combined efforts into the forays of Abrasive Human Music they discover that allura also really likes death metal

[qsmpzine]

Happy (slightly belated) 1 year anniversary, QSMPblr!

When I first set out to start organizing this zine, I don’t think anyone expected 2024 to go the way it has. (Seriously, how is it only March?) A lot of things have changed drastically since the beginning of the year when I started mapping out this zine, and it’s impossible to know what might come next.

In saying that, one of the things I first established with this zine was that I was going to be transparent.

So to cut to the chase: Chronicles is continuing. Regardless of everything that has happened, I think we can all agree that the eggs are something to celebrate. The egg admins brought so much joy to the server and to the community with their stories, and there’s nothing I could think of to honor them better than a fanzine that celebrates their stories and emphasizes the love and care that these characters have from the community.

While nothing is ever certain, I intend on supporting this project regardless of what happens on the QSMP going forward. This zine is meant to memorialize the past, and it will remain focused on the eggs and the nostalgic memories we all have of the last year.

This zine is dedicated to Lumi and Shade and all of the other admins who poured their souls into these characters and the server itself, and made the QSMP something amazing. While I know some artists and authors have stepped away from the QSMP, I look forward to seeing everyone who wants to contribute to this zine and their ideas for how they want to honor the eggs when our contributor applications open on April 3rd.

This community has been one of the greatest communities I’ve ever had the privilege of being in, and I know that regardless of anything that happens in the future, it will continue to be one of the greatest fandoms.

[romanovthinkver]

Do you have a Twitter/X account?

I'm asking because I'm that anon that agreed with you about wanting scarlett to speak up about palestine, the main reason being that there have been viral tweets saying she's a zionist/supports isnotreal because of the whole sodastream situation, I saw a tweet yesterday where someone LIED and said she didn't want to work with a company because they asked her to boycott isnotreal and she refused, and multiple scarlett stans have said that it isn't true.

Idk I just feel like all of this misinformation could be avoided if she said something. it's really starting to irritate me, I know she's busy but a simple "free palestine" statement would be nice.

hello sweet thank you for this ask. yes i have twitter. to be honest i didn’t know about these things you mentioned, but i went on the app and looked up.

as far as i can see from simply their bios, they’re bot pages and mostly israel supporters so they’re probably trying to catch some likes, bring other people to their side using a powerhouse like scarlett to attract them. and it works, you can see it from the comments. this is why speak up matters, right? no false speculations and no more people supporting a genocide.

it’s fake. it has been confirmed by journalists, some of her big fan-pages and scarlett doesn’t even talk like that so, as you mentioned, it’s a spread of misinformation. i personally tagged one of her fan page and she confirmed herself. however the posts doesn’t have any community notes despite all the posts going viral since days. i can’t explain this to you, but i have a thought.

the acc used a real happened fact, talking about something that happened 10yrs ago. it’s the oxfam (palestine) and sodastream (israel) dispute that involved scarlett personally.

i kindly recommend you to go and read it to have a better opinion on it maybe with some deep digging. i’m gonna link up some resources a friend of mine (that i personally thank) helped me find so you know i’m not lying or distorting the reality. (i know for sure i’m gonna have asks flooded with anons accusing me of being a liar and i don’t have patience for that).

misinformation sometimes is a good thing in these situations, for celebrities. it’s strategic. unload people of their responsibilities because it leads people to defend you, forget the main reason because you’ve been dragged into something you didn’t said.

after you learn about the story maybe you’ll have a clear answer that explains a lot on the silence she’s being holding, on why colin hosted the white house correspondent dinner this year.

what can in say tho it’s that she has become a influent figure in the US politics, with the president, and has been invited to speak there for convincing everyone to vote for the AI law. she has donated for causes, spoke up, i can make a big list on the enormous work she put out there to help people.

you guys have been telling me she isn’t political, she can’t expose herself nor she can’t talk about political issues then explain to me what’s the difference on talking about a genocide and being invited at the US parliament to address a speech. the matter? you say, well both are important matter that requires attention.

as i said in previous answer asks she isn’t gonna lose her job because she’s her own boss. have you seen artists big as her lose their jobs? they gained more.

i have been restless. i contacted all of her big and small fan-pages (both twitter and instagram) to ask them to at least speak up about the genocide if they didn’t want to call her out. nobody answered me. i’ve contacted her publicist, marcel pariseau, who always answers her fans. no answer. i’ve contacted kate foster, the outset team. nothing. everyone has been silent. why?

it’s hard to ask if that’s a few of us against millions of people who think she can’t act. that’s pointless despite trying and take all the people shit that hides behind anonymous.

this isn’t religious or political nor about losing jobs neither being busy. it’s human and if you are silent in front of beheaded babies, burned unborn babies, (taking this floor for calling out all the anti abortion shits) decomposed bodies and starved people; well that goes behind every moral of this world.

as this being said my hopes are always here. what i can say is that speculation and hate aren’t the answers only peace is. so be kind and continue to spread your voice, let's fight for the end of the genocide and liberation of palestine. history will make it course, as always have been, and we'll be proud to tell we have been on the right side.

disclaimer: it’s a 10 years ago thing so we don’t know if the situation or her opinione are changed . maybe it is, maybe it’s not.

the guardian.

csmonitor.

il post. (for my italians followers).

time.

bbc news.

buzzfeed news.

nbclosangeles.

[pommpuriinn]

Joohyung At VMAs

🧷 Joohyung enjoying her time at the VMAs

pink carpet: dress | hair (joohyung dyed it dark brown) | makeup | nails

performance: outfit

꣑୧ Joohyung was pretty nervous before heading to the pink carpet, but taking a shot before going really fixed that

꣑୧ she was a bit confused hearing that they won an award on the carpet and it even showed as they were accepting it. “I’m so surprised! Thank you moas and please look forward to our performance inside.” Joohyung quickly passed the mic back, making Soobin chuckled at her

꣑୧ as they would do little interviews on the carpet the people asking them all the questions would praise Joohyung about her looks making her feel shy and embarrassed. “Woah! Your unreal!”

꣑୧ “The dress, the makeup, and just everything girl!” The members would laugh, but agree with the interviewer.

꣑୧ “I’m so jealous of your significant other.” The girl interviewer teased Joohyung. Joohyung snaked her arm around Beomgyu’s, “he’s my boyfriend.” The interviewer eyes widened, “wait! Really? Oh my god, never mind you guys are perfect together.” Everyone laughed.

꣑୧ Joohyung was getting star struck seeing all the artists she grew up listening to. “I’m so nervous~” she hugged Beomgyu’s arm tighter He wanted to squeeze her seeing her eyes all big watching all the celebrities that are sitting on the other side. “Don’t be.” He pecked her cheek

꣑୧ seeing Olivia Rodrigo performance was definitely one of many highlights of her night plus her getting why the stage was falling apart, since Joohyung is an Olivia fan and listens to her music plus watching the mvs

꣑୧ you know Joohyung doesn’t really like award shows back at home, but American award shows are something else in a good way of course. They’re entertaining and seeing women not scared of showing their bodies and just showing off, Joohyung really enjoyed that and you could tell by the way the camera men zoomed into her smiley face

꣑୧ Joohyung wasn’t really bummed about not winning the kpop award she was just happy being nominated, and she along with the rest show support on skz winning

꣑୧ whenever the camera showed Joohyung’s face the crowd would go wild and it was starting to make Joohyung shy. Many moas after the award show saw that many artists mouthed how pretty and beautiful Joohyung looks (she was freaking out about it on weverse)

꣑୧ moas at the award show was count down and call out for txt which all six heads turn and waved at them sending smiles. It relived them a bit knowing moas are there with them

꣑୧ shakira’s performance was everything to Joohyung she loved ever second of it and moas even caught Joohyung sending hearts to shakira. Surprisingly to many Joohyung grew up to listening to western music along with some Latin music she never really liked Korean music when growing up (ballad music, opera, or even some kpop)

꣑୧ shared small snacks with Taehyun since Joohyung didn’t have a purse of anything she and Taehyun hide little snacks in his pockets. She shared some with Beomgyu and Kai

꣑୧ it was maybe an hour a half into the show, as Joohyung got up to use the restroom and of course she went with one of her female staff members. As Joohyung did want she had to do and got out to wash her hands she felt a presence next to her. She had to do a double take because it was Olivia next to her!

꣑୧ Joohyung wanted to talk to her, but she didn’t know how to start it without it being awkward and weird. “I seen you on the big screen a lot you’re so much prettier in person.” Olivia started the conversation and Joohyung wanted to thank the gods. “Thank you, and I can say the same about you.” Joohyung smiled at her. “I’m a big fan of your music I listened to sour almost everyday when it came out.” Joohyung said, as they both dried their hands. “Oh my gosh! Thank you I appreciate it. Oh! What’s your name before I go.” Olivia asked, as they walked towards the exit door.

꣑୧ “Joohyung, I’m a member of a kpop group called tomorrow x together.” Joohyung shyly introduced herself. “That’s so cool~” Olivia complimented. “Real quick is it ok if we take a picture?” Joohyung couldn’t miss her opportunity. “Of course!” Olivia was sweeter than Joohyung thought, she was so glad about it. The two exchanged numbers and Joohyung honestly doesn’t know how she did it but she DID IT

꣑୧ it was finally time to perform and Joohyung couldn’t wait! She honestly thought she would be more nervous but after seeing all the performances and getting interactions all the nerves went out the window

꣑୧ hearing the cheers and the yells from the audience was everything and more to Joohyung. They all put 1000% into this performance and having Anitta there was just amazing

꣑୧ both Joohyung and Anitta danced in the center with Taehyun and Yeonjun which moas were dying since it was just a sexy moment

꣑୧ also many praise Joohyung for dancing in heels in the performance along with her insane visuals and vocals throughout the song

꣑୧ after the performance everyone was so pumped up after the getting off the stage everyone jumped and cheered

꣑୧ as they cool down back stage Sabrina Carpenter came to say ‘hi’ and it was a quick moment but Joohyung saw how Sabrina ran her hand down Beomgyu’s arm while saying ‘hello’ and getting ready to pose for a picture

꣑୧ Joohyung felt a little jealous even though she didn’t want to be because she couldn’t help that he was handsome and everyone wants him but he is her boyfriend. So made her way in between Beomgyu and Sabrina did a quick pose and turned to Sabrina. “I’m Joohyung and this is Beomgyu mine boyfriend.” Joohyung intertwine their hands together. “Oh my god how cute you two are!” Sabrina even went for a hug.

꣑୧ now Joohyung was feeling foolish for even getting jealous with how sweet Sabrina was being

꣑୧ “aw~ my little noona was getting jealous wasn’t she?” Beomgyu was now lightly gripping her chin and teasing her. “I couldn’t help it.” Joohyung crossed her arm and mumbled. “There’s nothing to worry about noona cause I only want…you.” Beomgyu kissed her more passionately than he should since they’re in public

꣑୧ again the group was announced for another nomination the room filled in cheers it warmed Joohyung’s heart and even though they didn’t win

꣑୧ even though the night was filled with lots of excitement and joy it was finally time to get changed to something more comfortable and eat some good dinner with the birthday boy

[soft-persephone]

I read ur tags on the video abt drake and Kendrick “not caring about women” in the middle of the rap beef and I totally agree about Kendrick btw. It reminded me of someone i saw on Tik tok who made a video defending Kendrick from the “but he didn’t want r Kelly’s music removed from streaming platforms!” thing and what it turns out it ACTUALLY was about was that Spotify was going to put up a “moral and behavior” policy where they would remove the complete discography of any artist who they found out had a criminal record, which is incredibly discriminatory against all convicted people, no matter what they’re convicted for, and infringes on their 1st amendment rights and just the very human right to make art and have that art be preserved. So it was less about “I love r kelly so much im gonna threaten to take all my music off Spotify if they remove his” and more “this policy is actually infringing on artists’ rights and discriminatory against people with a criminal record.” I’m not saying Kendrick is our feminist messiah but like cmon yall he does not hate women and he’s not just calling out drake for clout

A lot of what Kendrick gets reduced to certain narratives because their are a lot of negative things that come with hip hop, and it does do more harm than good especially in the case with “fake woke” rappers.

I don’t believe in putting celebrities on a pedestal and no person is perfect. Him putting Kodak Black on Mr. Morale did rub me the wrong way. Him dead naming some of his family members rightfully upset some people.

I can’t speak for that, so I won’t because it’s not my place, so I just listen and support those that can.

But all I can really say is, the process of growing and wanting to be better person isn’t pretty. Watching someone unlearn racism fatphobia, transphobia, and etc is never without mistakes.

If we are really advocating for people to be better on all fronts, the response is always anger when we they don’t get it right the first time or show they don’t have a full understanding of it.

What do we really want fork people? We tell them to grow and do better? But if you’ve actually walked someone through that or seen it, why are we getting so mad when they make a mistake along the way.

No it’s not our place to teach them. But if they are making a genuine effort, why not make a quick comment and move on. How does him doing these two things and “fumbling” the narrative for black growth as a man in America by including Kodak black and trying to show him stepping away from transphobia in a more problematic than not way, absolve everything he’s ever done or thinks and do thereafter?

I am not saying these thingsto be derivative. I am asking from a genuine place.

That said, it doesn’t make those things right.

I think he said some quiet parts out loud that he shouldn’t have, but at the end of the day he has to be held accountable. 🤷🏾‍♀️

I don’t think Kendrick has ever said anything in song he doesn’t fully believe. He’s very intentional, that might be the place where people are angry with him because it’s clear these things were done on purpose.

I can’t speak for him as I am just a fan. I may be biased as well, so that may be effecting how I think about this, so I try to be mindful and address that as well.

I try to be responsible and try not to deflect other peoples thoughts, feelings, and opinions on some of these things because they hurt some people and affect more people more than they ever would me and it wouldn’t be right.

But, we don’t know him and we never do, so all we can do is speculate, and some more than others like to choose the worst over any benefit of the doubt because in a man driven world when have they never not have that.

I don’t want to be an enabler to that system.

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Thank you for your answer to that anon about boundaries... I agree with everything you said. It's really hard sometimes, I was surprised at how hard this new Louis stunt hit me... But it is what it is I guess, and it's not always easy to be a fan of a closeted artist, let alone two... But I know why I'm here... sometimes stepping away is good, and definitely to concentrate on what brings you joy ❤️

I think we forget sometimes that it’s not our responsibility to protect the celebrities we love from reproach or misunderstanding.

People make mistakes and make bad choices and say the wrong things and do things for the sake of their career or their safety or their ambition that we won’t always agree with, but it’s not our job to validate the ethics of those choices, because we can’t. We can’t properly question the goodness or badness of intent (particularly with something as vague as closeting), if we don’t have access to context. And we don’t, and never will, have access to full context, not just in our relationship with celebrities but in any relationship with anyone.

When we love someone, we agree to allow space for their humanity. We agree to be generous in our thoughts of them, not because we choose to be blind, but because we have evidence that they’re worth our faith. And if, in certain circumstances, they cross a line to test that faith, we’re fully within our rights to reevaluate their access to our time and attention.

That’s how relationships go. You can move your goal posts, you can increase your standards, you can rethink a relationship that begins to feel harmful. But you can only do it from your end, based on what you know and how you personally feel.

The point, I guess, is use yourself as the sole barometer for how you feel and get comfortable with the reality that we will probably never be able to concretely justify some of the decisions Harry and Louis have made, just like we will never be able to concretely justify some decisions we’ve personally made. It’s just part of being human and forming human attachments.

The question is not “are they, as people, worthy of my time and attention?”, but rather “Is this where I want to put my energy?”.

Realizing that, at the end of the day, participation in fandom is and always will be a question of “Is this still fun?” is really liberating and I encourage everyone to ask themselves that, constantly, because there’s no other reason to be here, really.

[diakkoday]

DIAKKO DAY 2023!

It’s that time again! The Diakko community is once again uniting to celebrate our favourite little gay witches, and this time, we’re hoping it’s gonna be even bigger and better than last year!

February 1st is an opportunity for all fans of Diakko to post fanfiction, fanart, headcanons, videos, edits, or anything else you can think of focused on Diakko!

We’ve provided some answers to common questions below, but if you have anything else you want to ask, don’t hesitate to send us a message here, or on Twitter.

We’d also like to extend a huge thanks to @yourcutesthope​ for her fantastic art to kick off our countdown hype! If your interested in doing a piece to countdown the weeks to Diakko day, let us know!

How do I participate?

Participating is simple! All you need to do is post whatever Diakko work you create on February 1st, and tag it as #DiakkoDay2023! Tagging this account also makes it easier for us to find your work and share it, and tagging it #diakko, #dianakko, and #LittleWitchAcademia makes it easier for other Diakko fans to find and enjoy your work!

We’ll also be sharing everything over on Twitter! We’ll be using the same #DiakkoDay20223 hashtag, and we also suggest using #Diakko, #LWA_jp, and #ダイアコ on Twitter. Last year, we got plenty of submissions from beyond the English-speaking fandom, so using the internationally recognised hashtags can help spread your work and the event far and wide!

Is there a theme? Are there any rules?

There’s no theme, you can submit whatever you like! This is simply a day to celebrate Diakko!

That said, we won’t be reblogging or retweeting NSFW content. For writers, this means your fic or chapter needs to be rated T or G. For artists, that means no boobs, genitalia, blood/gore, BDSM themes or similar. If you’re not sure if your work falls under these rules, please feel free to shoot us a DM on either Tumblr or Twitter!

Additionally, we would request that writers send us only one fic chapter or oneshot that they wish to be shared. Artists may send collages or comics with multiple images if they so wish, but we’d ask that you send them as a single post to make sharing them easier, thank you!

Why February 1st?

According to the timeline outlined in The Little Witch Academia Chronicles book, the finale of Little Witch Academia most likely takes place on February 1st. And what better day to celebrate Diakko than the day the two of them saved the world! And held hands! In space!

Also no one can prove they didn’t kiss after the camera panned away, OK?

Is this connected to Diakko Week? Why Diakko Day?

Because most ships, especially anime ships, have popular days to celebrate them in their fandoms! These are often fun dates, like combining the two characters’ favourite numbers, or the canonical day they met, so the community figured Diakko needed one too! The great number of submissions last year would seem to agree, and we can’t wait to see what you all have for us this year!

Diakko Week is a separate event that occurs in the summer. Some of the folks involved in organising Diakko Week are also part of the team for Diakko Day (they say hi!), but the two events are distinct (hence our lack of prompts), united primarily by our desire to celebrate our favourite witches.

Is there any way I can get more involved? I’d love to meet more folks from the Diakko community!

Aside from commenting and sharing each other’s posts on the day, you can also join our Discord! Simply add our admin LavMana#0188 and ask about joining the Little Gay Witches! Our community is primarily writers and artists for Diakko and other LWA and wider WLW fandoms, but we have plenty of fans who enjoy hanging out so come say hi!

And that should be everything! Please don’t hesitate to send us an ask if you have any questions, and we’re looking forward to seeing your submissions on February 1st!