#unfortunately being perceived is hell

[telesodalite]

I love the idea that, whenever a Cybertronian space-faring vessel lands or docks within a predominantly non-Cybertronian space station or port, that it's required that they either confirm or deny whether their vessel is sentient or not before being permitted to land.

1. For proper accommodation and clarification, along with the chance for communication between the vessel and crews working the station/port.

2. Because there has been... incidents... incidents that have led to the requirement of the above reasons.

[deikshen]

Shen Qingqiu accidentally got caught in one of the plagiaristic wife plots from Airplane, becoming cursed like Medusa. Literally. Anyone he sees turns into a stone statue and has many snakes instead of hair. Airplane said it was an interesting way to explore papapa blindfolded and Shen Qingqiu hated him more for it.

However, the only one who now knows his situation is Mu Qingfang; in the eyes of the rest of the Sect, Shen Qingqiu was blinded as a result of some curse. He hides the snakes with talismans drawn on his skin that make people unable to perceive them, they just see him all the time with his long hair loose and untidy.

Snakes are a piece of shit. They hiss and talk all the time and only Shen Qingqiu can fucking understand them. They gossip about how sexy Liu Qingge is, talk shitty about Airplane, and make weird and unfortunate comments all the time. Shen Qingqiu can hardly concentrate many times.

Snakes are also... nice. In a way. They nibble at his cheeks and force him to eat something. They tell him secrets they hear. They smell the air and tell him when it's going to rain or if a disciple has been misbehaving. With Luo Binghe in the Abyss, they are certainly pleasant company.

Then Jinlan arrives, and Shen Qingqiu may be blind to the jianghu, but that doesn't mean he won't show up. It will help even with a blindfold – in fact, he can see through it, albeit in black and white and mostly in very poor quality. It's as if he's using his qi to see thanks to the talismans he's developed with Mu Qingfang! Which also means that when Without-a-Cure attacks him, he's completely blind behind the blindfold, but oh well. Occupational hazards.

And then, Luo Binghe is there.

And their snakes go fucking crazy, excited, not one of them is scared, damn it! They've all heard of Binghe – seriously, Shen Qingqiu may have told them about Binghe, but SERIOUSLY! Don't put it like that! It's just his disciple who came back to kill him. And the Protagonist. YOU, ENOUGH SAYING HE'S SEXY.

Shen Qingqiu survives the first encounter without being dismembered, with the whole bunch of snakes murmuring and squealing excited hisses that only Shen Qingqiu can hear and understand. Fine. He just needs to protect himself with Liu-shidi and...

And of course Luo Binghe steps forward, cornering him in his own room. Of course he had to be faster and...

God, seriously, stop saying he's hot!

Shen Qingqiu is grateful that no one but him can hear any of those chaotic snakes. Except that–

Why the HELL can Luo Binghe also hear and understand them!? Seriously, Airplane!? That wasn't in the novel!! Luo Binghe, don't castrate your scum Shizun for being lustful too, all that stuff about you being sexy and hot isn't just thoughts you're accidentally hearing! It's the snakes in the hair of this master!!

... Why doesn't Luo Binghe seem disgusted by all those snake murmurs, though? There's no way he's okay with Shen Qingqiu thinking that way about him – AND IT'S NOT THAT SHEN QINGQIU THINKS THAT WAY ABOUT HIM!

[parasitic-if]

Parasitic.

[DEMO TBA]

You awaken in a swamp…or is it the woods? You don't know. You don't know where you are, you don't know what you are.

A human, or something else entirely?

A vessel, or a monster in your own right?

Whatever you are, whoever you are, you've picked a hell of a time to wake up in The Wardens. Mysterious deaths, missing dead bodies, and a supposedly incurable disease that's slowly killing the forest around you.

Not to mention that man (?), the one that only you can see, that only you can hear, who keeps trying to tell you to get away whilst you can.

Recover your memories soon, my little lamb, before paradise crumbles and the deities abandon you all..

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Play as an amnesiac in completely unfamiliar territory...you're pretty sure. Make friends, make enemies, develop a crush, maybe even play detective, the choices are yours to make.

Just...maybe make sure you jog that memory a little, lest you become the next ashen body to end up face down in the swamp (again, in your case).

Choose Learn your name, sexuality, and gender, as well as certain aspects of your appearance as you navigate your surroundings and interact with the people in them.

[characters of note below the cut]

Important Encounters ;

The Annoyance - he / they

He's always there, just behind your shoulder, hovering like a concerned parent (or maybe a mosquito you can't quite swat away). On a good day between the two of you, you just about remember how to walk and talk, yet despite that he can pretty accurately guide you away from perceived trouble. Will you choose to listen to him, or will you disregard him as a paranoid hallucination?

The Medic - she / her [RO]

She's patient and gentle, everything you could ever ask for from a healer, and surprisingly in tune with your needs even despite being strangers. Still there's a lingering concern as more bodies vanish, as more trees begin to wilt, a pressure mounting on the Medic to fix it somehow. Will you find a way to ease her burden a little, or will you become yet another problem adding weight to her shoulders?

The Guard - he / him [RO]

He's quiet and stoic, but not cruel, patrolling the town with an unrelenting vigilance that serves to put many people at ease with how consistent he is. His task is to ensure the safety of the townsfolk, so he regards you with suspicion wherever you go, the timing of your appearance an unfortunate coincidence. Will you prove his suspicions unfounded, or will you give him reason to kick you out like he's wanted from the start?

The Priestess - she / they [RO]

Sheltered and a little timid, it's the Priestess' job to monitor the Central Tree, the life of the surrounding area, making sure the deities stay peaceful. She is the first one called, right after the medic, about your markings, in the hopes that she could discern what they were. Her quietness is a little uncomfortable at times, sure, but she's perceptive and kind (if a little awkward). Will you let her help as best they can, or will you listen to the voices saying that there's more to her than meets the eye?

The Enigma - they / he [RO]

Your neighbour whilst you stay in The Wardens, though you rarely ever see him at home. He's charming and playful, helping out here and there, and entertaining the kids with simple magic tricks. Yet...you don't really know much beyond their first name, in fact you're not even sure their whole appearance is natural, now that you look closer. Will you uncover their secrets, or will you let him fade from your mind in a distant whisper?

The...what is that? [who] is that...?

Don't worry, little lamb, you'll find out soon enough. It's watching, after all, and you make for such good entertainment. It can't help but show its appreciation.

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[NOTE ; all romance options are gender-locked for my own sanity when coding / writing, however they are all bi / pan, so it won't effect MC]

OTHER PROJECT ; @tag-if PERSONAL / ART ; @notacalico

[homunculus-argument]

I know it would probably be a logistical nightmare to also make this accessible to the actual people represented, but I think it would be cool to have a game where the whole point is that every character has different limitations, that make it impossible or at least incredibly difficult to get past the whole game without switching them every once in a while, and the way you switch is by going to another character and asking their help with something.

Like you start out the game with one character and go "oh huh, the colour sceme of this game is really cool, really interesting use of such a limited palette", play through the puzzles for a while, and then encounter something where you're supposed to arrange some slightly differently coloured puzzle pieces to the right order by shade or something, and it's goddamn impossible. No matter how many methods you try, it's just not clicking, no matter how logical your solutions seem, no matter how clearly they can't be arranged in any other way that'd make more sense.

And maybe you go online to ask people "hey I'm stuck in the colour puzzle, what the hell am I supposed to do to get past this?" and someone tells you to go find one of the other playable characters and ask for their help. Which sounds patronising and stupid but you're stuck so you might as well give it a try. You go to one of the other characters, choosing the dialogue option to go "hey I need a hand with something, I can't do this on my own", and when they go "sure, let's go", your controls now switch to the other character.

And the colour scheme switches immediately. The aesthetic limited palette has changed to a far wider range, there's details in the environment that you hadn't noticed, like the muted faint flowers on the ground are actually bright red, the greyish shirt that your first character was wearing is actually striped with orange and green. The first POV character is colourblind, this whole time you haven't been able to perceive the difference between green and red. Solving the colour arranging puzzle with the other character is a breeze.

And this is the repeating theme of the game - every character has their own limitations, and while none of the puzzles are easy, you learn to think "maybe I should ask someone to help me with this" whenever you've been stuck for an unreasonable amount of time. You need to grab a buddy along for the quests, or you'll need to go back to get one eventually, and the way the game is structured somehow ensures that you can't just tactically dodge the limitation puzzles beforehand. Deaf character's POV doesn't have the audio clues that different pieces of the same puzzle make a different clicking sound, the puzzle with garbled numbers on it stops being garbled when you're not playing the character with dyscalculia.

You slowly get to know the whole cast, and occasionally help them out with things, too. You know which character could probably help with something you're stuck with, but while they'd be glad to come help, they're unfortunately stuck doing some task that could take you 20 minutes but is going to take them all afternoon, and you can offer help. Sometimes the helping-a-buddy-out minigames don't come with any direct transactional reward, you can just help a friend with something just because you can.

And the game's whole goal isn't to just illustrate how different people have different strengths, and sometimes things that are easy for you are hard for someone else, and vice versa, but to condition the player to think "maybe I should just ask someone to help, instead of wasting time struggling on my own."

[npdkondraki]

hi. kondraki scpverse is a trans woman. cope and seethe and read my essay about her below the cut. (it's really fucking long) (please god i put so much fucking work into this read it im begging you)

ok for starters for people who dont know what or who the hell im talking about right now (doubtful) (only adding this for the unitiated & newbies): this essay is about my awesome wife DR [REDACTED] HENRICH KONDRAKI(1) from pseudo-niche internet horror-fiction site THE SCP FOUNDATION(2/3). if you can't tell by our url i am Bonkers Crazy Insane about her and have been sporadically obsessed with her for several years. she sucks bad. anyways this post is about why i think she's a trans woman instead of being a "cishetallo man" like canon claims she is. you may be wondering; "but sawyer how is canon wrong about this if its canon" and to that i say. I know better than canon does dont worry about it. ok with that out of the way lets get into the schmeat of this thang

FIRST OFF. kondraki's entire view on masculinity is inherently tied to violence. she believes that if she isnt violent, cruel, and hiding her emotions constantly, then she isn't a 'real man'. her entire worldview, including her view of her own gender, is perceived through the lens of men, including herself, needing to be 'masculine', but she defines this masculinity through her own warped idea of what masculinity 'really is'. because she perceives men, and by extension masculinity itself, as violence, then she herself is violent. everything down to the way she speaks is designed to make her appear cruel, vindictive, and, most importantly, violent. she goes as far as claiming her favourite memory of working for the foundation is when she chased a man down and, quote, "[shot] his fucking face off"(4). however, despite all her tough-talk about being "badass"(5/6), she actually appears to be incredibly regretful about her actions(7), unlike her words imply.

she creates a cycle of retraumatizing herself over and over by hating everything being a man stands for, but refusing to acknowledge it. she leans into the idea that she is violent and cruel, creating a self-made cycle of self-hatred. this retraumatization makes her more violent; it causes her to lash out more, to be more vindictive, to be more outwardly cruel to people, to be more "man-like" in her eyes. she places herself into a self-made twister of hating herself enough that it rubs off on everyone else, and then positively claims its "[her] design"(8) rather than accepting how depressing it makes her life. she uses her own cruel perception of masculinity as a way to shield herself from the idea that she could ever, willingly, be a woman, because she's too violent and cruel and she'll never be a real woman, not in the same way people like rights & iris are. she fully, completely, and genuinely, believes that if she is able to "out-man" every man surrounding her then nobody is able to question what she thinks of herself.

theres an additional layer to how she views masculinity, in the sense that it makes her also view femininity as inherently docile, something that she lives by even when she is acting as a woman. in doing so she continues to perpetuate her idea that she must be violent to be masculine, because she views women (or, more specifically, the concept of being a woman) as fragile, weak, perceptible to being hurt, and she refuses to be any of these things. in refusing to view herself as a woman she, in her mind, refuses to view herself as emotional, hysterical, and, perhaps worst of all in her mind, just a woman. it's an incredibly unfortunate mix of how she was raised and the culture at her work; she is punished for being feminine (emotional, caring, nurturing, etc) and rewarded for being masculine (violent, cruel, selfish, etc) because that's just how people are in her line of work(9).

she views the entire experience and idea of being a woman as a joke. she's allowed to think about it, as a joke. she's allowed to be feminine, as a joke. she's allowed to be a girl, as a joke. she's allowed to be a pretty princess(10), as a joke. the very few brief moments where she allows herself to act on her impulses and suggest, even a bit, that she would like to be a woman is played for a joke(11/12/13/14/15). she speaks of being a woman as though it is a mystical thing, something she can only hope to achieve, less of a real option and more of a fantasy. she is acceptive of trans people(16), going so far as to say it seems that "it’s quite remarkable how productivity and morale improves once they come out and settle into living as their correct gender. [she imagines] it’s a huge relief, and it shows in everything they do." it's just that she truly doesn't view herself as being worthy of that. her entire life has been spent convincing herself that she isn't worth anything, let alone joy or comfort. she doesn't think she deserves to be allowed to transition. she believes that dr. kondraki needs to die, needs to be shot, needs to get it over with and kill herself already, and doesn't realize that the distance she puts between "[redacted] henrich kondraki" and "dr. kondraki" is a mask, a shell she can hide behind; it's a way for her to excuse any mention of her being a woman. if dr. kondraki can't be a woman, then [redacted] henrich kondraki can't be a woman either. it's nothing but a fantasy to her, something she can joke about and then discard along with the rest of her fantasies of being a good person, of being someone who deserves to be happy.

you can even bring her entire theming of butterflies into her own repression; the butterflies act as a camoflauge in the same way her mask of masculinity does. the only time she ever is truly gentle or nurturing or caring, all tasks she has deemed feminine, is with her butterflies. butterflies are specifically used in metaphors for transition, quite often appearing in trans artwork as a way to represent the death of who you once were and who you are now. the fact the butterflies also possess camoflauging abilities, which they tend to specifically use to make themselves (and kondraki) invisible, is in and of itself a metaphor for being in the closet, or, in kondraki's case, being repressed and refusing to acknowledge her transness. her transness is treated as though it's invisible, something she only looks at when it's disturbed, not unlike the way you can only see the butterflies by disturbing them. she refuses to acknowledge it, hides behind her camoflauge as a defense mechanism. coming to terms with her transness would make her have to disolve and be reborn, and she doesn't believe she deserves that. she doesn't believe she deserves to live free of the guilt, of everything she's done, so instead she stays camoflauged, stays in her bubble of masculinity where she feels her self-imposed shame and guilt.

all in all; kondraki is extremely repressed and refuses to accept that she's a woman, despite her progressive views, because she believes it would mean she is weak and fragile. she's terrified of her femininity, and uses violence and humor to deny every feminine part of herself.

DISCLAIMER. my choice to use specifically she/her for kondraki in this essay was a purposeful and deliberate choice and if you choose to use he/him after i have literally solely referred to her with she/her in this entire post i hate you personally. in other words

[redflagshipwriter]

Mama Bat 8: Hungry

Masterpost

Danny would prefer to strike that unfortunate incident from the record and his memory. As soon as he figured out how to cause selective brain damage, it was all over for the mortifying ordeal of being perceived in weakness. He swung his legs miserably over the bathroom counter’s edge and pretended very hard that he was alone in Amity Park where no one noticed or cared if he threw up. 

He was still in the room where Cass had hustled him to clean off his face and see if there would be an encore. He’d had to make a tactical retreat away from the toilet to higher ground when big bats flapped in after him. Presumably they’d learnt that he threw up when Cass went to get whatever supplies one needed to clean partially digested yogurt off antique carpet. Ancestral carpet. Probably made of some nutty rich person material like, uh, hair from the manes of prize-winning horses.

Somehow, Danny cringed even harder. He needed brain damage immediately, please.

“And you’re certain that you don’t need to visit a medical facility?” 

Batman brooded in the literal way that a chicken brooded. Danny tightened his grip on the counter just that little bit more so that no one could drag him into a nest and sit on him. “Wouldn’t do any good,” he said shortly. It came out a little too mean. He tried to correct his voice to be nicer. “Thanks. Tho.” Danny cleared his throat.

“Tt.” Damian expelled air against his front teeth and glowered at his father. “He looks terrible. You cannot believe this.”

Wait, what? Danny blinked down at Uncle Damian, betrayed. “I look terrible?” he echoed. What the hell? Criticism, from Dames? That was new and it sucked a lot.

Bruce got a pinched look. “Danny, honey, you have been looking a little…” He trailed off. “Unwell.”

‘That would be the lack of ectoplasm,’ Danny thought snidely. He kept his mouth firmly shut and turned away. Unfortunately, he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror and winced at it. He did look pretty wan and thin. It was hard to put a finger on what was off about his appearance, but it was sort of… deathly.

He was putting on weight again thanks to Alfred and Damian’s monitoring of his diet, but it was just a fact that he wasn’t really suited to this environment. Too human to survive in the big Green yonder, too undead to get by on bread alone.

‘...How does Jason do it? His vibes are rank and ghastly as shit,’ Danny thought enviously. ‘He screams BITCH I'M ABOUT TO COMMIT AN INTERDIMENSIONAL WAR CRIME constantly. It’s pretty fucking impressive. An aura like that is not sustained by creme anglaise and goulash. He has to have access to ecto somewhere.’ 

Danny really should have wondered that before. Jason had to be like, the most liminal human being around who wasn’t a halfa. He definitely needed ecto. Where was he getting it? Danny hadn’t really consciously thought about it, but… He felt himself tinge a little green again.

‘Was I feeding off of his ambient ectoplasm when he was here yesterday?’

His mouth filled his saliva that still tasted both sour and like toothpaste. Danny swallowed it with effort. He did not think of how good ecto tasted after you’d been denied and drained. He did not think about the sense memory of how living ecto would indent and then give with a juicy pop around his teeth, splash the inside of his mouth-

Danny buried his face in his hands and tried not to look like he was going to throw up again. Because he was not going to do that. He was not going to eat Jason and he was not going to throw up.

“Danny.” Bruce somehow made his huge strong guy vibes less intense. Danny reluctantly made eye contact to see that the guy kinda had homeless Labrador eyes at the moment. Big. Begging. Full of love and grandfatherly support that he's just waiting for you to accept. “Can I ask you a question?” 

Ugh. Yuck. Feelings.

Danny fidgeted, flexing and tensing his feet. “Yeah,” he said, after a too-long silence. “What's up?”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest, radiating intensely negative child energy into the room.

“Is there something that I'm not providing for you that would help you?” Bruce's voice was excruciatingly gentle.

Danny went stiff. 

Okay, maybe Batman wasn't a big dummy. Danny broke eye contact to look at his knees. His new jeans didn't have the usual tears over his knees. He stared at the weave, picking out an individual line of thread. Everything was so weird now. He was weird now. He’d made sense before but now he was the thing that was wrong and out of place. If he was more normal he could admit that he needed help. He could say what it was, if it wasn’t so freakish and he wasn’t struck silent by the knot in his gut.

“Whatever you need,” Bruce quietly promised. He lowered himself more to Danny's level. “I know a family who all need sunlamps to survive the winter. I have a friend who travels with his own fish tank of fresh ocean water whenever he’s on land.”

That didn’t sound very human. 

Danny sniffed. Ugh, his nose was leaking. He wiped at it with the back of a hand. “Like that tentacle horror guy from the pirate movie?’ 

Bruce's lips twitched. “Exactly like that,” he lied gravely.

He took a shaky breath in. He licked his lips. He glanced up and caught sight of Damian. Sweet, prickly Damian. The preteen was glowering as if that would hide how concerned he was. 

‘He’s a kid. That's a whole ass child. I’m not telling him I'm an existential horror that is tempted to commit cannibalism. Especially not when I’d have to admit that his big brother smells like a whole graveyard buffet.’

Damian sure talked a lot of shit, but he loved his family. A lot. He would have feelings that were way too big for his body about his ‘nephew’ needing to eat something like his big brother Jason. 

Not that Jason was a something. He was a person. Jason was definitely a someone. Danny winced away from that train of thought.

“Danny?” Bruce was barely audible. Danny blinked back to awareness to see that the man was tightly leashed in place by his self control. It was obvious that Bruce very badly wanted to take three steps closer and touch Danny. Danny drew his legs up onto the counter and hid his face between his knees. He didn’t want to look at anyone, he didn’t want to feel pressured to say anything. 

The new posture was convenient because it hid that he was starting to cry. He trembled with the effort to stay silent and mop his tears directly onto the new jeans that smelled like someone else’s laundry detergent..

He was being stupid. That was classic Danny. He hid things that didn’t need to be and he accidentally told people what should be secrets. Was he ever going to get it right? He should just tell them. Tell them! He tried to berate himself into working up the nerve but his jaw might as well have been wired shut in a morgue.

The bathroom went silent. Danny waited and waited for someone to say something. He frowned after a while even as he began to relax. Then he deliberately listened. 

It sounded like he was alone. 

It didn’t seem right, though. It took him a few moments to ping onto what he knew that disproved that. There was a warm, quiet presence about a foot to his left waiting patiently. It wasn’t quite ghostly, even though it was totally silent.

Danny sniffled on his next inhalation.

Cass didn’t say anything.

He lifted his head to see for certain that Bruce and Damian had left the room. They probably hadn’t gone far.

‘She must have asked them to get out when she came back.’

The room spun around him, blurred through his eyelashes. It might as well have been a dream. There was no harm in a dream.

“I need ectoplasm,” Danny admitted. Cass didn’t say anything or touch him. There was no pressure. He could float away if he wanted to. It was safe to admit it now. “That’s what I’m missing. And I can’t get it here. That’s why I came to Gotham. It’s not really easy to get on the living side of things. But Gotham is kinda liminal, so there’s some hotspots.” He paused. He wasn’t sure why. The air felt fragile.

Suddenly, he knew he didn’t want her to say anything yet. Danny swallowed and rushed on. “It’s, uh. What ghosts are made of.” His voice was so raspy that it didn’t even sound like him. “Jason has a lot, actually. But I don’t anymore. So. I need some.”

Cass leaned over very deliberately to put her arm over his shoulder. It was warm and real. The weight of it would keep him from floating away. He could feel the slight flex of her bicep muscles.

He swallowed. He leaned into her.

“We’ll get you what you need,” Cass promised. Simple as that.

[megismyname]

A few general statements for the fandom:

Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.

And yes this applies to personal or private information you may obtain or theorize about any of the players involved. Just because you obtained it “publicly” doesn’t mean it should be shared for the whole of the fandom. Ask yourself if this was being shared about you, would you want everyone that knows you discussing it? If not, keep it to a 4-5 person group chat.

Stop villainizing Nic and Luke for not performing on your perceived timeline.

Nicola is only 38 - she’s not in a “mid life crisis” and if I hear that one more time I’m gonna pull my hair out. Luke is not a “fuckboy” because he had one HBS and dated a younger woman for a short period of his life. Just because “guys like Luke” wouldn’t date you doesn’t mean he couldn’t love Nicola. And for real, WTF does “guys like Luke” mean? Just say that you’re projection fat phobia on Nicola when she’s not even “fat.”

Follow up - Nic and Luke are not distancing themselves from Bridgerton or from each other.

Most of y’all became fans during the WT so you were so used to constant content 24/7 and unfortunately that’s over. Luke and especially Nicola are also more high profile now compared to previous seasons. BTS posting on social media is gonna be different. It has nothing to do with their thoughts toward the show or each other. They’ve both commented multiple times how much they love Bridgerton. And they’ve both commented how much they love each other. Stop creating drama just because you need a dopamine fix.

Another follow up - social media is not real life.

Y’all I don’t know them personally but I PROMISE you that Luke reached out to Nic personally and wished her happy birthday. (Hell depending on where you fall on the theory spectrum, he was the one with her at her birthday dinner and took the picture.) I will tell you that my birthday is January 8th, the day before Nic, and I had to two Instagram story posts wishing me happy birthday. TWO. And I promise you I have a lot of friends. But you know what? All of my close friends texted or called me that day and gave me personalized greetings that weren’t for the whole world to see. And - GASP - this includes friends who have posted for me multiple past years in a row. So yes, even pattern breaking doesn’t mean anything. It’s been a week so please stop dwelling on this. And if you are still upset then I have a question for you - does it equally bother you that none of the Bridgertons publicly wished Will Tilston a Happy 18th Birthday? If not, please reevaluate the reasons behind your expectations.

Stop the public bullying and ostracizing.

The public hate needs to stop. Everyone is always accusing “shippers” of being the reason why N&L seem closed off but my opinion is that if anyone in the fandom is influencing their behavior, it’s the people continuously spewing hate. I will admit I’ve been guilty of throwing down against some of the more toxic creators in this space but I’ve always felt like I was “giving a voice to the voiceless.” What we need to do is stop attacking other creators because their opinions are different than us. And yes, I’m bringing this back to “opinion” because as I said the other day - nobody knows “fact” no matter how “obvious” you think it may be. You think Antonia and Jake are their significant others? Great. You think Nic and Luke are together? Great. Until the day that there is ever a definitive answer directly from the teams of Nic or Luke, everyone is on equal playing ground. I’m sorry if that bothers you but it’s true.

Side note to all of this: if a creator is saying stuff that makes you uncomfortable just know that when you make a post complaining about it, you were in fact perpetuating that information that makes you uncomfortable and only making the visibility larger. Just keep this in mind.

And with that, I’ll take my leave for now. Let’s all take a collective deep breath and remember that these are two real people with real lives and we’re only seeing what they choose to show us. Maybe it’s time we all pick up some extra hobbies. Start playing online games with your group chat. Fun some other methods of injecting fun in your day. It’ll make the time go by and you won’t be driving yourself crazy over this fandom. Keep your heads up y’all and just keep moving forward - it’s not that serious y’all. 💛

[ofswordsandpens]

Am I the only one who thinks about how The Lightning Thief would have gone if instead of Grover, Percy picked Luke to go with him and Annabeth on the quest? Luke, who was sick of the idea of doing quests that had already been done was just picked to go on a unique quest by this demigod who he was planning to manipulate, and the quest was unique because he helped to make it so. And while he'll likely be plotting to hide the fact that he's a lightning thief, reworking things to take heat off himself, one of his quest mates would be Annabeth, the half blood he personally saved and brought to camp, whom he would have to work like hell to hide his deeds from.

listen I'm loving the comedic potential of this because in my heart of hearts, I feel like Luke's too enamored with the idea of razing Olympus for him to doubt what he's doing, but balancing that razors edge where he's actively trying to sabotage the quest and kill Percy while not tipping off Annabeth, and also trying to plant seeds of doubt and discord both between Percy and Annabeth and also about the gods while trying not to be too obvious about it because maybe, just maybe he can convince Annabeth to side with him.

except as usual Luke's nefarious plans are constantly being foiled by 2 tweens and its embarrassing cause they're not even trying. Percy's not wearing the shoes and keeps making up polite reasons on why he can't without seeming like he's rejecting Luke's gift (cause that would be rude) and Annabeth's like "well I'm gonna wear them then" and Luke's panics like "NO" but he also can't wear them so then they just stay in the bag untouched. then Luke keeps directing them into the paths of monsters in the hopes Percy's gonna get taken out but holy hell this kid just won't die. Like literally just escapes mortal peril by the skin of his teeth and doesn't even realize it. It's like an old silent film where the entire front of the house falls off and the guy survives because he just happened to be standing right where the open window is.

Then Luke's also trying to stir up some anger at the gods, testing the waters with Annabeth, but she's so in the height in the idealization of her mom it's getting no where. Luke's trying to be subtle like "hey... don't you think it's kinda of fucked up that the gods are..... uh... blaming? percy for this? and that he has to do this quest to set things right" but annabeth's like "what do you mean by that? 🤨 this is what heroes do this is how we prove ourselves" and unfortunately Percy is the only one vibing with the "hey don't you hate your dad" comments that's Luke's throwing down and that makes him fond of Percy against his better judgement but he's still gotta kill him so you know, bummer

anyway, in this quest AU Percy perceives Luke as the Responsible Adult cause he's 19 (lmao) and thus feels a little less pressure to be responsible for things himself and so when they get to the Underworld, Luke's like smirking, grinning, cause a. he's in in the Underworld and how many heroes have achieved that? b. the shoes in Percy's bag are about to drag that kid to the depths of hell or c. the lightning bolts about to appear in the bag and Luke will throw Percy under the bus to Hades (he's been practicing his betrayal speech) except wait "Percy... where's your backpack??" and Percy's like "oh I forgot it at the hotel 👉👈" and Luke loses it and picks him up to throw him into tartarus himself (he is unsuccessful)

[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 :)

[star-spacer]

Hours in the Kitchen are Spent Warmer With You

Worick Arcangelo x Reader x Nicolas Brown

The apartment may be old, the halls run down, but even with the two of them in the cramped kitchen with you, it filled your heart with incredible fondness.

The pan sizzled threateningly as you dumped in the vegetables, water from those and your hands making the oil pop as you hissed and jerked back. On the other stove top, a second pan held cutlets of chicken being seared into golden brown. The knife in your hands glinted as you brought it down on some mushrooms, clicking your tongue in annoyance as the dull blade made a mess of your ingredients. You’d have to ask Nic where he left the whetstone again, but for now, they’d have sloppily cut mushrooms in their vegetable. And considering they weren’t the ones cooking, they had no right to complain.

Dumping in the mushrooms with the other greens, you gave the pan a few good shakes with one hand while the other went to lower the heat. Busy with your one-man show, you missed the racket of the door opening and Nicolas and Worick’s arrival as the latter announced their presence home. Seasonings were just about to go into the pan when you sensed someone popping up right behind you, just before a warm breath ghosted over your ear.

“Boo.”

The wooden spoon in your hand cracked over a mop of blonde hair, instincts faster than reason as your senses kicked into high gear at the perceived intruder. It hit you a split second later as the blonde stumbled back with a groan, clutching the spot on his head where you struck him.

“Worick!” You exclaimed, part exasperation and part mortification.

“Oi!!” he grunted. “Why did that hurt so much?!?”

You weren’t quick enough to dodge as he grabbed your wrist holding the spoon, inspecting the utensil in your grip.

“Let go! The food’s gonna burn!”

“Don’t use it as a weapon next time!”

Baring your teeth at him, you kicked his shins. “I’ll take a chunk out of your arm next time, yeah? Maybe that’s better.”

Your vision was obscured as Worick planted his open hand onto your face, trying to push you back. “You wouldn’t. How else would I—Ow, what the hell!”

You stumbled as Worick yanked himself away from you, a grossed-out look on his face as he held up the hand that was over your face just moments earlier.

“You bit me!”

“I warned you,” you muttered, turning back to the stove andflipping the chicken breasts.

Seeing Nicolas at the edge of your vision as he entered the kitchen, you quickly stomped twice on the floor, drawing the Twilight’s attention as he picked up on the vibrations. After resting the spoon on the counter, you signed to him, “Food’s almost ready.”

He grunted an affirmation, expression moodier than usual as he pushed past you and Worick to head to the sink, turning on the faucet and sticking his head underneath the water. You watched the occurrence in slight bemusement before turning back to the food, slapping Worick on the hand when you saw him reaching for the spoon. With the other two, considerably larger males here with you, it was hard to move about without knocking elbows, and you began to get irritated at the two of them so close right after their jobs.

Seeing the blonde trying to reach for the pans against, you haphazardly threw back an elbow in his direction (which he, unfortunately for you, dodged). “Piss off and get your nasty fingers away from the food. You absolutely reek right now.”

Worick let out a sad groan, pouting at you. “Will it be done by the time I finish washing up?”

Pausing, you gauged how much time would be left for the other side of the chicken to brown. “Yeah. Especially if Nico’s showering ahead of you.”

The blonde did a one-eighty as he turned around to catch sight of the back of Nicolas’s head as he disappeared around the corner. “Hey, no!”

His clingy presence evaporated from your side as he ran after Nicolas. Muffled thumping reverberated from where the two were, before the slam of a door closing echoed somebody’s victory. The vegetable medley was just barely soft, so you dumped in the marinade for it. You heard the clinks of utensils being set out behind you before Nicolas wandered into your peripherals, taking the pan with the chicken breasts and giving it a cursory jiggle. Nudging him away before he could ruin them with his cursed ability to scorch food, you took up the entire space in front of the stove.

There was a pointed huff behind you before you felt Nicolas press into your back, his head coming to rest on your shoulders as he leaned part of his bulk on you. He was careful enough not to use all of his weight, moving when you did, and feeling the vibrations as you hummed a soft tune you liked. After one hand was freed and clean, you reached up to run your fingers through his short hair, nails scratching his scalp the way he liked.

Nicolas’s chest rumbled as he practically melted into you, the Twilight going soft in the only way he would with you and Worick. You grimaced at the thought of sweat and other post-assignment muck on Nicolas rubbing off, but with him clinging to your back like this, you doubted he would listen if you told him to back off.

Steam from the rice cooker buffeted your face as you lifted the lid, mixing up the fluffy grains within it before shutting it. You gently pushed Nicolas out of your space to plate the food, the sautéed vegetables and pan-fried chicken being separated into three portions, with the biggest going to Nic to compensate for his increased metabolism. You nudged your elbow into Nicolas’s midriff to separate him from you, motioning to him to get the food. He peeled himself off of you with a grumble and went to take all the plates before you could, lifting them over your head when you tried to reach for one. The two of you shuffled over to the old wooden table taken from the curb that served as your dining space, its mismatched chairs pushed neatly in. Nicolas already set out cutlery for you all, and now, he placed the food in their designated spots.

The sound of the bathroom door opening signaled that the other male had finished his shower. True to word, he wandered into view a few minutes later, hair still dripping lightly. He perked up at the sight of you and Nicolas taking your seats by the table and adjusted his eye patch as he hurried to the same.

“Hell yeah,” he groaned, sliding into his seat. “Thanks for the food.”

You hummed picking up your fork. To your left, Nicolas was already stabbing into his portion of chicken with his own utensil. Rapping on the table with your nickel, you signed to Nicolas, ”Where did you put the whetstone?”

Nicolas stilled, mouth partially open and food halfway to his mouth. His eyes flickered away from you for a quick second, guilty. Narrowing your eyes at him, you hoped that the pressure of your stare would cause him to cave. But he simply looked away, the bastard. You huffed and returned to our meal, determined to pry the answer out of him later.

“Nic lost it.”

Worick’s answer jerked you out of your meal again. Nicolas continued to eat, pretending as if nothing was wrong. Reaching across the table, you took hold of his ear and tugged. Though the Twilight was much stronger than you, he relented and leaned over with a grumble as you forced his attention over. “That’s the fifth time, Nic! I swear, the corner shop clerk thinks I’m a weirdo by now! What the hell do you use it for because I know you don’t use it for your sword!”

The Twilight stuck his tongue out at you.

“We’ll grab a new one!” Worick quickly intervened before you could lunge across the table.

“You better,” you muttered, returning to your meal, stabbing the vegetables a little too viciously with your fork. “See how easy it is when it’s your turn to cook when the knives are dull as shit.”

“But you did so well,” Worick said. “I think Nicky can agree.”

He pointed over to the Twilight, who was cramming the last bite of chicken into his mouth. Nicolas sensed the shift in the air and paused, glancing up to meet your eyes, his cheeks puffed out from the food. He squinted his eyes, a challenge for either of you to say anything. While he was distracted, Worick snuck some of his vegetables onto the unsuspecting man’s plate, shooting you a wink behind Nicolas’s back. The dark-haired man was none the wiser as he turned back, only doing the briefest pause before resuming his meal. You and Worick did the same, the space settling into something quiet, only broken by the sounds of cutlery against cheap dishes.

Nicolas was the first to finish, and you passed the remainder of your food over to him. He took that too, and you got up, ready to clear away the dishes before Worick tutted.

“Sit down,” he instructed, leg hooking over your chair leg and tugging it in so you were forced to lower yourself. “Whoever does the cooking doesn’t have to do the dishes, remember?”

He shoved the last bit of food him his mouth and then stood up, gathering the utensils while Nicolas stacked up the plates. You tilted your head in curiosity as Worick passed everything to the other man, and then split off to go back to the living area. The squeak and rattle of water in the sink behind you was Nicolas’s presence, while the rustling of plastic gave hints to what Worick might be doing. You didn’t need to wait for long as he wandered back, a cheeky smile on his face as he slid back into his seat.

“Nico and I swung by the shops to get something sweet,” Worick said, waggling the brightly colored box, so out of place in the drabness of your apartment. He leaned forward to set it on the table, resting his face in a hand. “They were on sale, so we thought that it’d be a nice treat to go with the food.”

You couldn’t help but let out a good-natured sigh, shaking your head. “Of course, you’d go for that.”

Worick’s eye was bright as he broke open the seal, allowing the scent of chocolate to permeate the kitchen. Nicolas placed down a few drinks, brushing a quick kiss to your temple as he passed, and soon the crinkle of wrappers announced the treats being unwrapped. You hummed in delight at the taste of the sweetness melting over your tongue. Though the treats were cheap, the kinds stocked in bulk by the counters everywhere you went, it still warmed your heart to split the small offering in between the three of you.

Music drifted up from the street below as you three finished the chocolate, someone’s ancient stereo spitting out static-laden notes from foreign songs. The blonde perked up, setting down his drink on the worn table with a ‘thunk’. His bright gaze pinned you and Nicolas down as he stood up. “Looks like someone got their radio to work. Wanna dance?”

Nicolas marked his immediate refusal by crossing his arms and glowering threateningly at Worick. So the blonde turned to you, hand extended with a hopeful look on his face. With a begrudging smile, you reached out and placed your hand in his, getting pulled up out of your seat to stand in the small area of your kitchen. You could help but laugh as Worick spun you around, his own velvet chuckles accompanying it. The space was barely big enough for the two of you, hips bumping into the counters and Nicolas’s feet tripping the blonde as he purposefully stretched them out. Your heart felt inexplicably warm and full, Worick’s eye bright with mirth. Even Nicolas, when you glanced back at him, had a fond look on his face, a small smile as he gazed at you two.

There were pots and pans in the sink to be washed, schedules to update, and budgets to go over, but for right now, the three of you basked in the golden glow of the afternoon.

[eggroll-sama]

My Opinions if They Existed IRL

Rant of me manifesting the characters in my life and logically seeing and how I would feel of them. Ranting, Leander hate, shenanigans

Leander

Hate Hate HATE-

I've had terrible experiences with Leander's. I'm sorry to all the Leander fans out there, but I can't stand people like him. I relate with Vere on this one. The artificiality is aggravating.

Will make you feel understood and special, but it's just his charm. He gets off on it tbh.

The type to laugh at jokes he doesn't think is funny to feed the person's ego. His laugh is obnoxious (rich person's laugh + loud cuz he thinks louder = more genuine? No lol), too, so everyone turns to him wondering what's making him laugh sm. He's just being fake

Ah, DOES NOT know personal space. Is super touchy even with strangers and pushes their boundaries.

(More under the cut)

People pleaser, people pleaser. The type to not stand up for you when someone talks smack about you behind your back. Instead would give a polite laugh, maybe add his own opinions on you to make the shit-talker feel understood, then would steer the conversation to smthg else. Take that as you will.

Leaves you in the dark on certain things that will make him look bad. More than likely you find out through other ppl which makes you feel betrayed.

Smiles, even when he's pissed off. When you see his mask falter it's like whiplash, makes you wonder if he's ever real w you cuz he doesn't talk about his neg opinions. Only shares altruistic opinions to make himself look better.

Would not communicate when he has problem with you. Instead, he'll give you a look, no smiles, no facade, just hostility. It's annoying when you're the type to talk things out.

Competitive as hell, with friends, too. If he isn't in the center of attention than he'll get very insecure, and would go into pick-me mode so he can get compliments from others

"I'm not as good as ___, haha."

"No way, Leander, you're amazing, be more confident!"

And he will do this RIGHT in front of you, too (Day in the life of Ais dealing with Leander's jealousy)

Likes to play mediator to seem like the bigger person, but still ends up choosing sides. Your actions aren't matching your words fool.

Would also play mediator so he can get more information from both sides. More knowledge = more power = more control

On a positive note, Leander’s are very good at reading your emotions so would be more attentive to your needs. Also open-minded and would be a good companion if you want to have fun. Unfortunately the type to say yes yes to hanging out even when he’s on a tight schedule and get irritated when it wasn’t as exciting, like JUST SAY NO BITCH GAH DAMN. Prioritize urself.

When you start to distance yourself after he treats you like crap, that’s when he starts to correct himself, but it’s too late atp. Would get rlly salty when he sees you hanging out with other ppl feels like he’s being replaced

Would act friendly with you even after you're no longer close but it’s a facade :DD When he's alone he's brooding.

Kuras

Politely distant.

Kuras is the coworker that's been there longer than you have so you admire him from afar, hoping you'd be at his level one day.

Remembers your name even if you talk to him like ONCE, makes you feel special and seen in a non manipulative way.

Would remember certain things abt you that you surprised he remembers like at all.

Has the sexiest ASMR voice. It's the professional type of voice that’s very well-practiced and you just watch him on the phone not fumbling over there words like :0 They make it look so easy

Being friends with him wouldn’t be one-sided. He would plan a catch-up with you grabbing coffee. Would pay for the bill without asking.

He is a dominant person, but is often perceived as submissive bc his courtesy and gentlemanly behavior. No, no, he’s always in control. He just knows that that being kind in the face of conflict makes you the one more in control of the situation. There’s dominance in self-submission

An amazing listener. Has the ability to give advice to you without making you feel defensive on your stance.

Believes in integrity, but wouldn’t condone being “brutally honest.” Don’t weaponize your excuse of “honesty” to be a jerk towards others. Kinda hypocritical bc sometimes he sucks at being tactical with words, but he tries to understand, which is the difference from ppl that feel entitled to state their opinion in a “fighting for dominance” type of way

Stubborn lol. Stubborn in a “my way or the high way” kind of way. Needs to be convinced with logic or wouldn’t budge that his way of doing things is better. Can get tiring convincing them.

Also is very detail-oriented that every little thing needs to be analyzed before he proceeds. If you’re the type to “wing it” like me, it’ll test your patience but also their attention to detail helps out later on. He’ll hit you with the “I told you so” look

Too hard on himself. Would feel bad for being impolite over smthg minor. PLS REINFORCE HIS AWESOMENESS YOURE DOING GREAT OK.

Would remember something he’s done in the past and hate himself, it’s the catholic guilt. He knows there’s no point in remembering but he can’t help but think of how he could’ve handled something better. Overthinker.

Acts like an old man. Likes little peaceful towns with a good suburban vibes. Loves discovering little stores and Knick knacks. Also gives u gifts out of nowhere for keeping him company.

Mhin

I also know a few Mhins but I like them better than Leander’s lmao. Their quietness piques my interest and I find myself wanting to get to know them more, even if it’s one-sided and low-key an interview. They tend to be very interesting people.

If you gain their favor, than they're so caring towards you. Would seek your attention once in a blue moon like a cat. Sometimes it feels like you’re always chasing them, be it through gift-giving, reaching out, etc. Will get repetitive at times.

Their independence is admirable and partially the reason why you seek their presence so often. You don’t want them to feel lonely.

They’re passive aggressive, it’s low-key cute, but also annoying. Just say what you want to say!

They have self-conscious tendencies, be it their looks or their talents. Instead of being an annoying pick-me like Leander, they start to get more frustrated and depressed, unfortunately. Wouldn’t bring it up unless you do.

They’re also popular romantically but they NEVER realize. Tends to get teased often by people crushing on them.

Is so honest. Mhin would tell you straight what they think about you, which sucks if you have a soft-heart.

So honest, borderline an asshole. Ex. You’re losing some hair? They'd point it out. No hesitation. Very embarrassing if you're with your friends. They suck at thinking before they speak.

The type to trauma dump on you. But if they do, you’re lucky bc it means they trust you.

They are naturally attracted to kind, peaceful introverts. Mhin isn't a sociable person, so it would be a whole lot easier for them if you are also not sociable. Craves kindness and peace.

You can appreciate their quietness. They don’t talk, so their words hold more weight. Great at handling kids cuz they are scared of them.

The type to complain about smthg you did but helps you. ACTS OF SERVICE !!

Their laugh is so rare that it makes you surprised and gaping. But you love it whenever it happens.

DONT FORGET TO CALLLLLLL

[skyfallscotland]

We really need to talk about this obsession with toxic positivity in fandom.

There are corners of the internet (tumblr, reddit, in some respects AO3) that were made for discussion and exploration.

Part of being in fandom is, and has always been, discussing canon through a critical lens. This should be expected, not lambasted as if the creators themselves are going to read every post and be so viscerally offended they skip their dinner for the night.

If you’re required to only “be positive” about something, the community devolves into an echo chamber and that's boring. Going against the grain, believing something different, never used to make you a 'hater'. Where did we go so wrong that it’s perceived as such now?

Everyone has a valid viewpoint to add to any discussion, however my viewpoint is only welcomed if it’s in agreement with the majority of people—which it generally will never be given I am, in fact, a minority and therefore do not view the text through the same lens as most people. My lived experience means I don’t think like most of you, and I'm frustrated that I’m essentially told to sit in a corner and be quiet because of it. Why are you even posting under a discussion flair if any opinion different to yours is met with vitriol? You clearly don't want discussion.

Here’s the thing—you don’t love this book more than me just because you don't have any critiques. Your opinion is not more valid than mine (or anyone else's) because you lack the ability or the inclination to imagine, to explore, to question.

You (we, if I may) can love something and still believe it can be improved upon. Generally, if you love something, that is what you want—you want it to be the best it can be.

And even if you don't think the same way I do, here's the thing—ultimately, how the hell does it affect you if I don’t agree with an aspect of the text or your interpretation of it? My criticism of the way certain books are lauded for bare bones disability rep or their inclusivity when they have *checks notes* a character of ambiguous skin tone, should have no bearing on your enjoyment of the book. My opinion that a character has ambiguous morals should have no bearing on your enjoyment of the character.

You wanna know what I think it is? (You don't, but I'm going to tell you anyway)—people seek to find themselves in stories. We want to feel seen, that’s normal. But now, especially in these fandoms, people are getting the lines blurred. They’re getting their identities completely entangled with these books.

It’s ok to love something, but to become so entrenched in it that you can’t separate the book from your own sense of self? That's dangerous.

These unfortunate people need you to say only ultra-positive things about it because anything else is perceived as an attack on them and who they are—because they think they are the things they enjoy. Positive opinions on the text and its characters, in line with their own, are self-validation for them.

Enjoying something doesn’t mean it has to be a part of your identity. Things can be beloved and formative without affecting your self-esteem and sense of worth.

And I think, for me at least, it all trickles down to this: at the end of the day, if I disagree with something, I attempt to counter the opinion, that's how my brain rolls—people who disagree with 'being negative' (and I say that with the utmost derision, because usually it’s not negativity at all) don't have an argument that you're wrong, they just don't think you should talk about it. They go straight to attacks and vitriol, and telling you to get out.

You can still like something and admit it’s flawed.

There are a great many things I love about my fandoms, I just don't always mention them because it's been covered already 😉 Why bring up something ten other people already have day in, day out?

In closing, I'll leave you with this:

Even when fandom is being critical, it ultimately comes from a place of optimism and devotion, one that centers on the hope that a beloved property might stop fucking everything up and start being good again, x

Oh, and no, I won't "quit reading fantasy" just because I want to see a protagonist with my physical limitations. That's ableist as fuck. Have the day you deserve!

[black-dresses-band-fan]

A Guide to Black Dresses (Band)

Who are Black Dresses?

Black Dresses is a Canadian musical band, formed by two women, Ada Rook and Devi McCallion, who are both artists on their own.

The band was formed in 2017, following their first ever single - Paper Planes (cover of MIA). 

Devi and Ada started the Black Dresses project when they were friends, however they're currently in a relationship and implied to be married to each other.

They started the Black Dresses project, as a form of venting, and did not expect to blow up in the slightest. However, following the release of their debut album - WASTEISOLATION, they gained attention of the internet. With their unique sound palette, dark and vulnerable content of the lyrics, and general surrounding of enigmatic no-name artists, they started to quickly follow with underground cult following. 

Gaining much praise, getting a score of 9 out of 10 from Anthony Fantano, and especially, becoming viral over the song "IN MY MOUTH".

Unfortunely the band diss-banded after harassment that Devi received from the internet users after they found her online presence and internet footprint. Both Ada and Devi didn't really like the attention they gathered. So in 2020, they stopped making new material. But did in fact release old unreleased stuff all up to 2022.

In 2023 they announced working on their 7th album and making new music. Releasing more singles and uploading little snippets on them working. Confirming that way that they're a band once again.

The musical style

Black Dresses musical style is based on mixing a lot of genres. As an underground artists, Black Dresses are influenced by a lot of lesser known styles and genres coming from the outsider world of music. 

You cannot really explain their sound in simple words, but i'll try. Their genre is often described as "Noise Pop", but they're much more than that.

I'll try to describe their general sound, but i will go into more details following the guide's part about each individual album.

Most of all, Black Dresses are an electronic band, they do use real life instruments, mostly guitars and drums, but it's mostly electronical elements.

Black Dresses mixes elements of Pop, Industrial, Noise, EDM, Rock, and are mostly described as extremely experimental.

To lesser extent they also use hip-hop, ambience, metal, glitch, synth, and screamo.

Their vocals are rather amateur, which shouldn't really scare you, as it just adds to the charm. They're also notable for their usage of screaming vocals.

Themes of Black Dresses 

TRIGGER WARNING: CSA, Abuse.

The main themes of Black Dresses music are:

Mental suffering,

Living with mental ilness - such like depression or severe anxiety,

Coping with trauma - mostly from their childhood, and the sexual abuse they went trough from the hands of adults in their life.

Healing from those experiences, seeing hope in the future.

And environmentalism - raising awareness about the issues of global warming and pollution.

But there's ofcourse many more songs that don't follow these themes. 

Black Dresses often get accused of being "edgy", however you shouldn't perceive them like that. Their music is full of real struggles that both Devi and Ada are going trough. They do NOT romanticize or fetishize the themes of their music, nor they sugarcoat it or exaggerate it. 

Not to mention their music is full of hope for better tomorrow and wanting to improve, giving it all a positive message.

Release guide

2018 - WASTEISOLATION: Their debut album, definitely the darkest in terms of themes. Essential for every fan of the band, the best place to start. Mostly lighter in sound, doesn't incorporate as much noise as following releases.

Really accessible for newcommers.

2018 - HELL IS REAL EP: A 5 five song EP making a bridge between WASTEISOLATION and THANK YOU. It's a bit moodier than the previous project, but also it's a place where Black Dresses started to use more screaming vocals and noise elements.

2019 - THANK YOU: Second album, much more surreal in the sound palette, much noiser and more electronic. Black Dresses at this point got a little less personal in their lyricism.

2019 - DREAMS COME TRUE 2019: A sequel to their first ever project together, DREAMS COME TRUE 2017 which i'll mention later. It follows 3 WASTEISOLATION songs re-made and re-worked. As well as one brand new song.

2019 - LOVE AND AFFECTION FOR STUPID LITTLE BITCHES: Black Dresses (succesful) attempt at poppier sound. Much less crowded instrumentals and simpler, catchier beats. Doesn't belittle their noise elements and screaming ofcourse! 

2020 - Peacefull as Hell: Black Dresses most popular album after WASTEISOLATION, got an extremely positive review from Fantano and semi-blow up on the internet. A fan favourite.

Black Dresses production got more professional. 

The sound is much lighter and goes into the direction of electronic pop rock.

2021 - Forever in Your Heart: Black Dresses heaviest project to date. Ada and Devi at their most industrial and metal. A lot of screaming and noise. Another fan favourite.

2022 - Forget Your Own Face: Their latest album, as for the time of writing this guide. Their most disorganised project (which was intentional), full of distortions and noise and screams. It was a surprise release and is made from re-made unreleased material going as back as 2019. It contains some of fan favourite songs.

Other notable work:

2017 - DREAMS COME TRUE 2017: First ever released collaboration between Ada and Devi, a short 4 song EP.

2017 - LETHAL POISON FOR THE SYSTEM: A 3 song EP in collaboration with 99Jakes and Laura Les - a member of 100 GECS. Includes first single Under Black Dresses name.

2018 - CRUSH: Single, a cover of Tessa Violet.

2020 - 745 Sticky Remix: Black Dresses remix of 100 Gecs song that ended up on the official 100 Gecs remix album.

2023 - Shines: Single, a collaboration between the band Purity Ring and Black Dresses.

Merch and how to support them

Black Dresses ocassionally releases their albums on cassettes, however they were all limited and are currently unavaible. No official CDs or Vinyls were ever made.

You can buy at any time Black Dresses hoodies or T-shirts on https://black-dresses-merch-store.creator-spring.com/

(Ada also sells her merch on that)

You can buy their albums over Black Dresses bandcamp, or support them directly trough Patreon.

You can also contact Devi or Black Dresses trough an e-mail and show your support with words!

black.squares.media@gmail.com

blackdresses666@gmail.com

 (Please do not send this e-mail to anybody who could harass them) 

That's all, i hope you'll have a wonderful time listening to our gals! :DD

Black Dresses Extended Universe Guide

What's that? You're interested in checking out Ada's and Devi's solo stuff? Well, it might be much more confusing or interesting than you think, in fact, it's a whole rabbit hole. So let me introduce you to, what i like to call, the "Black Dresses Extended Universe" (BDEU or simply BDU). 

BDU is a collective of every side-project, nickname under which one of the girls released music, or any other band that contains either Ada or Devi.

Ada Rook's side of EU

Let's start with Ada Rook, since there's a little bit less going around her.

Ada started releasing her music in 2015, following her first OST for her game (as she's a game dev), and her first EP in 2016 "void memory".

Ada used the nickname "rooksfeather" or simply "rook", however after the release of "Parasite" she started using her full name.

Ada's solo discography follows 8 EPs, 4 Soundtracks, and 6 albums. 7th one on the way 

Her musical style is similar to Black Dresses, but more into industrial and rock side of things. Her older music used much more ambience and was darker, moodier. Her recent style incorporates much more screaming and poppier sound. However, in case similar to Black Dresses, each album have it own distinct sound. 

She also released one album with an artist called Deathirl, "DEATH IN REAL LIFE" and it's extremely rare media, not even listed on RYM. However reuploads of it exists.

She have one Alter-ego, called "Crisis Sigil" Under which she's doing extreme grindcore. Crisis Sigil released 2 EPs and 1 Album.

Ada is also a part of 2 other bands beside of Black Dresses,

"rook&nomie" is a collaboration between Ada and ESPer99, they released 2 albums. Their style is much more poppier than anything else that Ada does.

"Angel Electronics" is a fresh new band formed by Ada and Ash Nerve. They're doing power electronic rock, and their sound is more joyful. They released 1 album so far.

Notable Ada Rook releases:

"Shed Blood" by Rook

"Parasite" by Rook,

"2,020 Knives" by Rook,

"UGLY DEATH" by Rook,

"Rookie's Bustle EP" by Rook,

"GOD CUM POLTERGEIST" by Crisis Sigil,

"ULTRA PARADISE" by Angel Electronics,

"Superego Royal Jelly" by rook&nomie

Devi McCallion's side of EU

Wow, we are in for a heck of a ride... Oh well,

Devi started releasing her music since the age of 15, however most of it is probably lost media at this point. She's putting music out on her own label - Blacksquares, Under many different alliases and side projects, i'll talk about each one later.

Devi's style is mostly indie pop, influenced by sub-genres like dream pop, synthpop, ElectroPop and simply underground pop.

Her music is often simplistic and cartoony, but it's hard to explain her signature style in words. 

But it's worth checking out.

Devi rarely releases anything Under her real life name, mostly singles. But she did release 2 albums Under her real name together with Katie Dey, mixing production of both girls. 

Devi used many different nicknames trough her career, such like Dizzy Girl, Devi April McCallion, Vriska Serket, Walking Patriarchy and The Little Fears, however all of these names aren't connected to any specific releases, as far as im aware (Devi's music is a huge Rabbit Hole, full of lost media and rare material).

It's also worth mentioning that she released a compilation of her unreleased material Under the name "Blacksquares", it's titled "LIFE IS HELL (ASMR)".

Okay, so now we are going to talk about each one of her musical projects. We'll start with 4 of the most essential ones, then the more obscure ones, and we'll finish it all with Devi's other bands beside Black Dresses.

1. EAT BABIES? - A name she really doesn't like to be assiocated with, so it's better to treat this project as a fun fact, rather than the core of her career. EAT BABIES? was her first ever project (that we are awere of) Under which she released 2 albums and 2 EPs. It was much more amateur than what she's used to do now. And she doesn't like to associate this project with herself due of the fact she was much different person back then. 

2. Mom - is her second most popular nickname. It was her primary stage name for a long time untill 2015 when she came out with "Girl Rituals".

Mom released 5 albums. And semi-blow up with a song titled "joyfulthought". Mom is a time when Devi really started to work on her pop sound and signature style. 

3. Cats Millionaire - the third most popular Devi project. Cats Millionaire was active from 2011 to 2013. Released 2 albums, 4 EPs and 2 mixtapes. 

Cats Millionaire is characteristic for overall theme of My Little Pony, since Devi used to be a brony. The lyrics and aesthetic are all about MLP. The sound was much more soothing and toned-down than most of Devi's releases.

4. Girls Rituals - Devi's current main allias and her most important project that's still active from 2015 to this day. Under that name Devi released most of her music, and she really perfected and evolved her pop sound with each and every release. Beside of many singles, she released 2 EPs (one with Ada, one with 4lung, however the second one is since deleted because of the 4lung allegations), 1 remix album, 1 instrumental album, and 5 albums. With "Reddishness" being Girls Rituals fan favourite release.

Now, Let's get over every other side project.

10 Chains - only one instrumental album have been released. It's noise/ambience.

Doro Doro Dono/More Bears- Just one single released each for two of these projects,

traptraptrap - 2009. one album released. Despite the name, it's her usual pop stuff.

Triangle Giant - named after one of Devi's bands, only one EP released. ElectroPop.

Yellow Bile - 3 EPs released. Usual pop stuff. One of the EPs are lost media.

Tiny Magnesium - Really obscure stage name for her usual pop sound. 2 short albums released.

Leader Misty - Pokemon themed 2008 project, one instrumental album.

Holographic Rainbow - Only the soundtrack to the discontinued web comic (of the same name) have been released.

Hexi Wing - name she used to release her self-spoken erotic fan-fiction. You're probably not interested in that 👀.

Now, last but not least, Devi's multiple bands before and after Black Dresses.

Dr. Massive and The Headwound Extravaganza - was a 2008 electronic band that released mostly covers of rock songs. Only one album have been released and the band is 100% discontinued right now. Devi was responsible for programming, drums and vocals. There also were

Mike Will Smith - percussion and vocals,

Allan Burke - synthesizer and vocals, 

Jonathan Oscar Cianni - programming, bass,

And Sensitive Bear - bass and vocals.

Unfortunely i couldn't find any info about the band members.

Giant Triangle - A band where Devi used to do vocals from 2008 to 2016, the band had a lot of members that went and go, but it seems their only official release is an 2020 EP. Usual electronic and pop.

The Various Endeavors? - a 2009 band who's appearently still active? They released one synth punk album, and a compilation of unreleased tracks in 2021. John Bevier and Tyler Bruce are in the band along-side Devi.

VCF Freq - A collaboration between Devi and Boy Pussy, they're doing minimal techno. They're Technically still active but their only 2020 EP dissapeared from any streamings. It's thankfully archived on Soulseek.

Anarchy 99 - A collaboration between Devi and So Drove, they're doing electronic pop rock. They're still active from 2020 and actually release new material consistantly. A couple of singles have been released and one album.

Notable Devi  McCallion releases:

'Self-titled" by Mom,

"3" by Mom,

"Fun Fun Fun" by Cats Millionaire,

"Reddishness" by Girls Rituals,

"Im Desperate" by Girls Rituals,

"CRAP SHIT" by Girls Rituals,

"Cow" by Girls Rituals,

"Rockstar Super Heat" by Anarchy 99,

And that's all there is to BDU ;)) have fun Discovering it! ❤️

[504py]

Yandere Prussia Relationship Headcanons

Gender neutral, no use of Y/N, NSFW, murder, kidnapping mention, stalking, long post ahead!

we're SO BACK JOE. i apologize in advance if i write him strangely 😭😭🙏 but here it is! come get y'all juice!! slowly coming back to hetalia, so my inbox is once again open!!! hope y'all like it!

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

How the relationship started...

Gilbert is a very competitive man, and he can't help but be attracted by challenges, even if those challenges are ones that he himself proposes and the other party is completely unaware. This is what has unfortunately happened between you two, and it all started when you rejected his advances towards you.

I apologize for saying this, but I feel that Gilbert is a bit of a "nice guy". He saw you initially as just some pretty person he could fool around and flirt with, but you, obviously, saw right through his act, and said something that stuck with him.

"Are you normally this pathetic?"

He's taken aback, and his red irises shake a little.

Of course, he's used to insults being flung his way, what with how he acts, but a shot to how cool he perceives himself to be would stick.

His white brows crease his previously smirking face, before snapping back.

"Well fuck you too!"

Gilbert wouldn't have any contact with you following this interaction for a long while, and while he tries to forget you and erase you from his memory, you and your words have been laser-burnt into the creases of his brain. You and your damned smile when you look at anyone other than him, the softer tone your voice takes when you talk to other people, versus how your voice seems to have been drained of all enthusiasm and feels like it's a knife dripping with venom when Gilbert talks to you. Why didn't he deserve that nice treatment, too? Was he not even deserving of a small smile from you? He wants you to like him, too. He wants to be the person you like the most; to be the best.

Which resulted in him showing up at your door one evening with flowers and your favorite takeout.

Why does he know your address and why does he know your favorite food and flowers, you ask? Don't worry about it (He was obsessively stalking your social media during the month he was gone).

Gilbert apologizes to you, he sounds sincere, and like the oh-so kind person you are, or maybe you just wanted the food and flowers, you let him into your home.

Expectations...

Gilbert is a very insecure man. His only expectation is for you to look at only him and to love him only. Perhaps he wants you to love him the same way he loves you, obsessively, but he does like the challenge.

He feels like, maybe, if he can fully prove himself to you one day and have your validation, only then can he truly see himself as worthy, as the best for you.

He would have a lot of tunnel vision when it comes to you. To Gilbert, the rest of the world doesn't matter, because you are his whole world. He does tend to look pretty stupid because of it sometimes, but he couldn't care less.

You want him to cook and clean around the house? He'll do it.

You want him to change up his style even if he doesn't really like it? Of course he will!

You want him to carry all the bags while you're out shopping? In a heartbeat. Plus, he gets to show off his strength too. He'd carry you too if you allowed it.

Even if he tries his best not to come off as cocky, he really does like showing off. Being with you has sort of domesticated him, so he'd be a lot more shy about making a show of himself.

I think he'd act like this irregardless on if you accepted him as your boyfriend or not, if anything, I think he'd be even more of a doormat if you refuse to accept him.

He'd get crazier and crazier with his attempts to prove himself to you, such as buying extravagant gifts, doing anything and everything under the sun and moon for you, hell, he'd even legally change his name if you didn't like it.

If you still don't accept him despite everything he's done, I think he'd snap and just take you. He'll keep you with him so you won't run away and he can have as many attempts as it takes to prove himself to you.

But I imagine you'd cave from the guilt and persistence, and eventually accept him. At which, he'd literally scream from relief and happiness and swing you around, before realizing how rough he's being with you and hurriedly putting you back down and apologizing.

Yet he still has that wide toothy grin the whole time, and he keeps petting your hair and holding your face in his hands adoringly. It feels that, from that moment on, there would never be a moment where he'd be unhappy ever again, and he'd never allow you to be unhappy either as long as he's around.

It is genuinely very hard to make this Gilbert upset, because there are very few things that do...

Punishments...

Gilbert really hates it when you express any sort of affection towards anyone or anything other than him.

Yes, anything. He gets jealous if you show too much affection over his dogs or fawn over them too much. I'm seriously saying this, I think he'd later show up with a collar around his neck, crawling on the ground and rubbing his head against your thigh like a mutt. This could either come off as comedic or attractive depending on you, but either is a win in Gilbert's book, since at least he's got your attention now.

If you have any personal toys of your own, he'd get kinda emotional and ask you to throw them away, then ask what they do that he can't. In some time (and by that I mean later that night, maybe even right away), he'd prove that he can provide you with so much more pleasure and relief than those toys ever could.

Probably even to a fault, he'd keep overstimulating you and forcing orgasms till he was satisfied, till he believed that it was drilled into your brain that only he could do these sorts of things to you. And, also, that if you make him jealous like this again, it'll be another one of these long, torturous, sweaty nights...

I guess these aren't really punishments to a lot of people, because in my book only one thing could make him so genuinely upset that he'd be anything other than doting towards you, and that would be flirting with someone else. He'd try to deny it, but then he'd be inconsolable and crying for weeks, having nights where he'd be begging you to say that it never happened, or that the other person meant nothing to you.

"They r-really mean nothing to you? You mean it, babe?"

Then an idea pops into Gilbert's head, one that makes his heart rate pick up and his pupils dilate.

He kisses you, says that he loves you, says goodnight, then he'd be eerily... calm for the next few days. Usually he'd be more skittish and closed-off following whatever you did, but now he's acting like nothing ever happened.

Until one day, he shows up with that other person, bound and gagged, and a gun.

"G-Gil, what is thi-"

"They mean nothing to you, right?"

"Y-Yes, but-"

Then the gun fires, and it happens so quickly that you can barely process it.

This is only a hypothetical scenario, if you were ever to do something like that. It'd be really easy for Gilbert to slip into a psychosis and believe he was doing the right thing by murdering someone.

If anything, he sees it as another means of proving himself.

"There's no one else who would kill for you like I could."

All in all, he isn't easy to anger, but unfortunately I can't say the same thing about him and murder...

Rewards...

Luckily, as long as you're fully loyal to him, all you'd have is a boyfriend who is doting to a total fault.

As long as you've got a good tolerance for cringe, being with Gilbert should be relatively stress-free.

Gilbert's love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch. You could imagine what the two combined would be... Yeah, he's got a huge praise kink.

But as for ways he shows his love towards you, it's definitely acts of service and gift giving. He lilkes gloating a lot, and that's especially true when it comes to the two of you.

He enjoys showing you off. He likes buying gaudy things for you and himself– a huge fan of matching outfits– and taking you out on flashy dates. If you're comfortable with being posted on his social media, best believe he'd be spamming his with you ALL the time. Even if you're not being physically being shown, he'd write about you in his tweets, captions, and stories constantly.

"CHECK OUT THIS EPIC BAG I GOT FOR MY BELOVED!!!!!!!!"

And around twenty-eight people respond like "Didn't you just get them one the other day??"

If you're one to hop between interests and hobbies a lot, or just have any hyperfixations in general, best believe Gilbert will be fueling them LOL.

Gilbert can be really overbearing with his affections, but to him it's just because you deserve it so much. Only the best for the best, right?

He can't help it either, the most rewarding thing he's ever felt is that feeling he gets after he gives you a gift or does something for you. You get this adorable look on your face, smiling at him like he was the stars in the sky and singing out the sweetest compliments and thanks. It's all so worth it.

Normally I'd delve into what Gilbert would love to receive from his partner in return, but in all seriousness, I really do think all he wants is praise and your sole affection.

Like Alfred in my last headcanon post, Gilbert is really noisy, but I think he'd willingly make an effort to change that for you. Not because you asked for it or anything, but just cause, this way, he can appreciate all the tiny little things about you even more.

He realized this, when, one day, he noticed you frown a little before you smile. He wonders why he's never noticed this, and he realizes it's because he closes his eyes right when he starts to laugh. He starts to wonder what other little details about you he's missing out on, so he watches you more carefully in that effort.

Inadvertently, this has made him more calm and quiet since he's so concentrated on you. He likes it, though.

I think, what punctuates Gilbert's character here, is his willingness to change and bend for love's sake.

He does say he loves you very often, to the point of it being annoying sometimes, but he sincerely does mean it. He doesn't say it as just fluff.

However, you'll feel it most with the way he looks at you.

"You have a mole on your back. Did you know that, babe?"

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

(art used is mine, so please do show it some love on my blog as well! thinking of starting a taglist?)

[neptunes-sol-angel]

BOO! 👻🎃🕸 How are you scaring people with their shadows? Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most then scroll down for the corresponding message(s). Happy Halloween my Sol-cherubs!!

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Pile One

"SHE AIN'T NO DIVAAA!"

You trigger others in a way that threatens their confidence and provoke them into a cycle of evaluating their self worth and identity after an ego death that's probably been long overdue. Some people in this group may hinder themselves back from speaking to people about anything in general, like expressing your opinion on something, talking about yourself, joining in a conversation so that you can be outgoing and network with others because you could feel like developing normal interactions with others is difficult for you. You could feel that people may find what you have to say as meaningless, they could even talk over you, or maybe you fear that people will hate you for what you say. You could also find yourself in too many situations where people are dedicated to misunderstanding you by twisting what you say or snubbing you. But despite their reactions, people strongly value what you say, and are often changed personally by even just a few words that you mention and could still think about what you've said years later whether it's from a normal conversation or an argument. I feel called to mention to this group that you shouldn't restrain yourself by muting your verbal expression in order to please others, because I'm getting that even though you aren't aware that there are people who want to listen and do listen to what you have to say and will like and respect you for who you are, you understand the weight of your words and the repercussions you face when you defend yourself and but there are times you don't in order to keep the peace. You must understand that peace is simply an illusion when you keep putting your feelings and wellbeing aside to keep people that are not even for you in your life. Tip toeing around others is not what's going to keep you safe—you gotta step on some toes to free yourself. This group has to learn both when it isn't your fault for when you trigger someone and when it is. Because I'm getting that another part of this group is more so in the darker aspect of this trait, you don't hold your tongue for anyone and when someone goes low, you go to straight to the pits of hell. You're fully aware of how you know just the right words to break someone and to intentionally offend them. Your brutal honesty isn't needed all of the time and sometimes you're not being blunt, you're just being an asshole. Reserve your poison for the people that deserve it, but it will benefit you to learn that the same way the magnitude of your words can be poison to others it also be venom used to help others heal. I know it may feel like that someone's always trying it with you but you gotta calm down and start seeing the good in humanity, because not everyone is a piece of filth that you need to sweep. The shadow work that you make other people do eventually creates a balance that keeps their egos in check and where their humility is holding them back.

Pile Two

What's chilling about you is how elusive you are. This can mean a variety of things, but one of the scenarios that I'm getting is that this pile could be adamant when it comes to holding grudges. People hate that you don't forgive them because it gives them a reality check with how entitled they feel to treat others and how they expect them to react about it afterwards. You seem to unfortunately attract a lot of people that don't take any accountability. They show up as either someone who feels like they have the right to mistreat others and have control over how their victims feel or perceive the situation or people who have lived their entire lives as victims but are in disbelief when they are in situations where they have made someone else a victim so they manipulate the situation to confirm their bias and lack of self awareness. These people are possessive over outcomes and how they want to be seen. You are very much capable of forgiving others, but you are strong with your boundaries to the point where you don't make yourself accessible anymore to the people have hurt you and this confuses them. They're used to thinking that words have more meaning than their actions or that forgiveness is something that's automatically given when asked for it, but you show them that's not exactly how it works. This makes them have to unpack guilt that they will deal with for a very long time or your absence reminds them of how powerless that they feel. Both are situations that are hard to sit with alone so these people may tend to latch on others and surround themselves with company. The shadow work that you make others do is to reflect on situations where they are habitually self-undoing.

Pile Three

What makes other people shook about you, is how unmoved you are but how you always seem to ironically move others. You could have this radical intelligence and self sufficiency where you don't care who's on your level or not. You could be isolated by others a lot, and on the outside it could look like you're out of touch with humanity, but no, you're actually way ahead of your time, they just need to catch up. The same things that people have tried to shun you for, end up becoming trends in the future. You guys are very secure with yourself and it intimidates others, but you've grown or will grow to not let that effect you anymore. I see that your purpose involves leading others. You guys could be coaches to help people break habits that maladaptively stagnate their lives, you keep yourself strong, in order to pass this on to others who finally decide that they to help themselves. Your insight isn't going to be accepted by the majority because those people are still stuck on outward appearances or are complacent with their own delusions, and it's not your responsibility to help everyone, but you're good at what you do and you have the potential to save a lot of lives with the changes that you help other people make within themselves. It doesn't even have to solely be changes either, you could motivate others to recognize what they already have within themselves too and that's so empowering. If you guys are tarot readers that are feeling down about the messages that you're trying to bring to people, I'm getting that you guys need to keep going, what you're doing is meaningful even if you can't physically see it, you awaken others deeply to things that they may not be ready to publicly share with others so give it time and remember your mission. You aren't here to entertain any thoughts of staying the same, you are here to promote growth. Don't downplay your gifts, you know what you know.

[burekforsatoru]

lost souls

best friend!ran haitani/f! reader | read it on ao3 you meet with your best friend at the club and shenanigans ensue wc: 8.8k tags: soulmate behaviour, fluff, eventual smut, sexual harassment, hanma being a menace, shion being a lil weirdo, izana mention, insane amounts of flirting, piv sex, creampie, actually very vanilla sex tbh, but they're cute to me

actually don't perceive this i hate it i'll rewrite it at some point

When your best friend invites you to the club with the promise of free drinks, it wouldn’t be very wise to decline. He was a bit disappointed as I was running late, but he wasn’t making a fuss. He understood me better than anyone and knew I needed time to prepare for the amount of socialising I’d inevitably have to do..especially since he entertained a lot of people.

Ran Haitani was lounging around the VIP area with two women in his arms and at least one drink in hand, waiting for me.

When I’d finally got ready, I made my way to the club, freezing my ass off in the shortest, tightest dress I could find in my wardrobe. Now that I got here, I realised it was showing too much thigh and it had a stupid, stupid neckline.

I made a quick stop at the bar to get a few drinks to warm up before locating Ran. A large hand waved at the bartender to put my drinks on his tab, and the face accompanying the hand wasn’t too bad to look at, but I politely explained that I was meeting up with someone. 

He didn’t like the sound of rejection, instead, he tried to get me to sit on his lap. I struggled against him, and nobody around me was willing to step in and help. 

“Hey buddy, leave her alone.” Ran sauntered over, making the creep at the bar back away immediately as he recognised who was commanding him. Ran then turned to me, and, with a caring expression on his face, looked me over to see how I was feeling.

“Are you okay?”

I let my hands wander over Ran’s body possessively to scare off any potential assholes that could want to try the same shit with me. He let me do this because it wasn’t our first rodeo, he had, unfortunately, had to swoop in to save me from multiple situations much like the one that had just unfolded. I looked up at my saviour with a wide smile.

“Cheers, Ran. Just in time.”

Ran chuckled softly, enjoying the feel of my hands on his body. He knew I needed him and he was more than ready to help me. We clinked our glasses and he raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Always saving the day, aren’t I?” He took a sip of his drink, watching me intently over the rim of his glass.

I smirked as I looked up at him, my hand withdrawing from his chest.

“My knight in shining gang uniform. How’s the night been going without me?”

Ran laughed, seemingly enjoying the nickname. Despite having a great time partying with his friends earlier, he couldn’t help but feel like something was missing without me around. He leaned down close to my ear and whispered,

“It’s always better when you show up.” He gently brushed some stray strands of hair behind my ear and added, “But I managed to have fun nonetheless.”

With a mischievous glint in his eye he continued, “Now that you’re here, though…let me introduce you to these lovely ladies I met tonight.”

He gestured towards the two women who had been sitting beside him in the VIP lounge.

I approached the women enthusiastically, sitting right next to them. I could tell they were wondering who the hell I was, and if I was there to chase after influential men and use their influence for my gain. While I respected the grind, most of those men were absolute bastards and dealing with them was a fucking pain and a full-time job. But my best friend was not one of those men.

I introduced myself to the women and started a conversation.

“...I’m Ran’s best friend, yeah. Oh, by the way, I love your lipstick, you have to tell me what shade that is…”

The conversation was casual and Ran sat across from us, observing over his drink. He watched me effortlessly charm these two women, making them feel comfortable and appreciated. He couldn’t help but smile proudly at my ability to connect with people easily. As the conversation flowed smoothly, he noticed one of the women discreetly slipping her phone number onto a napkin and sliding it towards me.

Feeling slightly amused by this turn of events, he leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his drink, waiting for my reaction. I put the napkin into my purse, exchanging a wink with the woman. I kept chatting with them, getting warmer in my too-tight, too-short dress and I could feel the VIP waiters appreciating the hug it had on my curves with their lingering eyes. I winked at one of the waiters who immediately grinned and came over to offer me a drink.

Ran observed the scene as it unfolded before him, feeling a mix of amusement and pride. He knew I was enjoying myself and that was enough to make him happy. As the waiter handed me the drink, Ran caught his eye briefly and gave him a subtle nod of approval.

Despite being surrounded by attractive women vying for his attention, Ran remained focused on the conversation with the two ladies from before. However, he couldn’t help but steal glances at me throughout the evening, admiring my charm from afar.

I ended up getting up and dancing in the corner with the woman who gave me her number. Luckily for me, I had decided against heels tonight and instead wore my platform Vans. They dressed down any fancy outfit, but not enough to stop the attention being poured over me. They did, however, make me shorter than anyone else in the room, especially Ran. So it was comical to see him join us for a dance, seeing the height difference between us. He always thought it was cute, but in comparison with the other women who came up to us, I felt physically out of place.

The waiter came back with another drink so I took it and put the straw into my mouth to bite it before taking a sip. Seeing that, Ran playfully suggested that maybe it was time for someone else to have a turn serving us. Looking directly at the waiter, Ran challenged him,

“My best friend over here seems like she needs an experienced partner to keep up with her moves.”

By the time the poor man overcame his shock at the challenge, Ran’s gaze had already found mine and he extended his hand in an invite.

“Shall we show them how it’s done?”

I loved seeing this side of Ran, so I put on my finest grin and took his hand, letting him twirl me multiple times in a row before snatching me mid-spin and dipping me so everything around me was upside-down. My choice of footwear allowed for more movement, even if the dress restricted me. Ran picked me back up and slid a hand down my side, squeezing my thigh slightly.

“People are watching,” I said with a giggle.

“Let them,” he whispered, shaking his head.

With that, he grabbed my hips and led the dance. As he spun me around the dance floor, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of exhilaration. My infectious laughter, paired with energetic movements, only fueled his desire to impress me further. As people began to watch in awe, he simply tightened his grip on my waist and continued leading the dance with confidence.

When the song ended, Ran pulled away slightly but maintained contact through gentle touches along my arms and sides. He took hold of my hand once again and led me back to our table where the two ladies were eagerly awaiting our return.

One of the ladies leaned in to whisper something in my ear, to which I chuckled and kissed her on the cheek. I sat next to her and kept chatting, seeing the other woman trying to grab Ran’s attention and the waiter standing around awkwardly, making it obvious that he was trying to get a chance to be near me. I glanced at Ran, but his eyes were already on me, and in that moment I was reminded of all the amazing times we had had together until now.

Running off from his gang meetings only to hide when his brother went looking for us. Running around our neighbourhood in the rain without umbrellas. Impromptu karaoke sessions, both at his apartment and in karaoke bars, singing along to What’s New Scooby Doo together. Cooking elaborate ramen soups at two in the morning with only half the ingredients from the recipes, but with all the enthusiasm. He really was my soulmate, my other half, my best friend in the entire world.

I gave him a grin, fixed my dress, and looked back at the woman puffing her chest in front of me.

Ran watched as I engaged in conversation with her, other people’s attempts to gain his attention gone unnoticed. Despite being surrounded by beautiful women and potential romantic interests, he couldn’t help but feel a deep connection with me - one that transcended mere friendship or physical attraction.

There was a commotion as another man entered the VIP lounge, one of Ran’s gang buddies, whose eyes fell on the gathering we had going on and his lips stretched into an excited grin. He sat down next to me, seemingly not recognising me, and put his arm around me, pulling me closer despite my raised eyebrow at his sudden closeness. 

Ran noticed the way this man’s hand possessively rested around my waist and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness rise within him. Although he trusted most of his friends, there was still an underlying sense of territorial instinct that kicked in whenever someone encroached upon my personal space.

So he did the only thing he saw fit at the moment - he moved closer to me on the other side - effectively sandwiching me between them both. This move wasn’t necessarily meant to be a challenge or a confrontation. Rather, it served as a subtle reminder that, while others might try to vie for my attention, there would always be someone who knew how special I was, someone I always went back to. 

I rolled my eyes at the other man pulling me closer to him, the woman had already up and left the couch to sit down next to her friend on the other side as Ran replaced her next to me. I placed my bare legs over Ran’s lap, leaning slightly into the other man’s embrace.

“Shion, didn’t anyone ever tell you to ask before putting your hands on other people?” 

I teased him, but I put all the power I could into my voice. His eyebrows furrowed before his eyes widened in shock. He stumbled over his words, but still didn’t withdraw his hand from me as he muttered,

“Shit sorry I didn’t recognise you!”

I giggled and leaned into his side some more, my legs still resting over Ran’s lap, his hands sliding up and down them.

“Well, Shion, how about you let me go now, hm?”

Ran watched the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and concern. He knew Shion well enough to understand that his intentions were likely harmless, but he also recognised the importance of respecting boundaries - especially when it came to someone as important to him as me.

As I gently scolded Shion for his lack of tact, Ran felt a swell of pride at my assertiveness and composure in handling the situation. Despite feeling somewhat territorial over me, he remained calm and collected, trusting that I would handle myself accordingly. With a reassuring squeeze on my thigh, Ran offered an encouraging smile before speaking up.

“Hey bud, maybe give her some space? She seems pretty comfortable right here next to me anyway.”

I pushed myself off Shion’s chest and met Ran’s forehead against mine in a gentle gesture of the bond we shared.

“Listen to your friend, Shion. And next time - if you get a next time - ask before touching me, ‘kay?” I said that with my most polite smile, but he knew I meant business. 

He moved to the other couch to give the other women some attention, even though one of them kept her gaze on me the entire time. The waiter stood there awkwardly, watching as I pushed myself up onto Ran’s lap and leaned into his chest, his hands immediately resting on my thighs and mine on his back from where I winked at the waiter just to get him flustered.

Ran was savouring the warmth and familiarity of my embrace and, in moments like these, he was reminded why he cherished our friendship above all else. Despite the chaos surrounding us in the VIP lounge, there was a sense of peace and tranquillity whenever we were together.

I called over the waiter and took his notepad, writing down my order, following it with a little heart and an apology for all our behaviours tonight. I knew he must’ve been insanely nervous dealing with Tenjiku gang members, especially two of the Four Heavenly Kings. As soon as I finished writing, I flashed him a smile, and he left for the bar to give the bartender our order. 

As he left, Hanma’s tall figure walked up to the lounge and approached the couch where Ran and I were sitting, situating himself where Shion had been sitting next to me.

I rolled my eyes at his closeness, but I didn’t mind him too much, we had our banter. Hanma leaned in to place a kiss on my cheek and I pinched his left cheek with my fingers. His hand went to my shoulder and started pulling my body down to lie on my back and place my head on his lap. I let it happen as his tattooed hands started stroking my hair soothingly. 

Ran observed this interaction with a mix of curiosity and amusement. While he knew that my relationship with each member of their gang was unique, it was always interesting for him to see how all these different personalities interacted when in such close proximity.

When Hanma kissed my cheek, Ran felt a pang of jealousy, not because he wanted to claim ownership over me, but rather due to the fact that he wished he could offer the same level of comfort and intimacy with no strings attached.

Shion returned to Ran’s side and they struck up a casual conversation. It was clear that, despite all the chaos surrounding them tonight, these men still found solace in each other’s company, united by loyalty and camaraderie amidst a sea of strangers vying for their attention.

One of Hanma’s hands went through my hair while the other tentatively touched my thigh. It took exactly one raised eyebrow from me to make him reconsider this move, immediately pulling his hand off my thigh and offering me an apologetic smile as the strokes on my hair continued. He knew my limits with him, even though he regularly liked to test them.

The women on the other couch seemed engrossed in the situation unfolding in front of their eyes. How did this random girl in a too-tight, too-short dress and fucking Vans, for crying out loud, have these three powerful and dangerous men dancing to her tune and wrapped around her finger?

I lifted my head to whisper into Hanma’s ear, something that made him grin wider than before as he stood up and, pressing another kiss into my cheek, maybe a little too close to my lips for my liking, went over to the other couch, sitting in the middle and letting the women flock to him with a grateful smile directed at me.

I sat up in Ran’s lap once again and leaned into his chest, continuing the cuddle we had had going on before Hanma arrived. I could tell by his breathing that my attention being directed at him once more made him relax as his arms wrapped around my waist like he was holding onto a lifeline amid a storm.

Shion walked over to Ran and spoke to him in a hushed voice, by the tension in Ran’s body I could tell it was work-related. My ears twitched at the exchange, but it was none of my business until he made it my business to take part in any of their gang bullshit.

I had only taken part in two of their missions, both times as eye candy for some of their rivals or partners who had a weakness for women of my body type and liked to extend their welcome to a few wandering looks and touches. After both of those missions, Ran would spend a whole day with me and under me, lying on his bed wrapped up in each other, with him apologising profusely, nearly scraping the floor with the depth of his bow, almost sobbing with guilt at how the other men had approached me, even though I had willingly chosen to take part in the mission.

I placed a kiss on his neck to signal I was there for him; despite the closeness of my entire body on his lap, I liked reminding him of my presence with gentle kisses to his neck. Shion glanced at the exchange and raised his eyebrow, to which I just smirked mischievously. Hanma was enjoying himself with all the attention he was receiving on the couch, though I couldn’t help but call out to him to remind him of manners.

“Remember to be respectful, Shuji, unless you want me to come over there and teach you another lesson.”

I said that with a joking threat, but if he was good at anything, it was turning anything I said out loud into a joke for himself.

“Oh, you know I’d love nothing more than for you to…teach me another lesson.” He followed with a wink in my direction so I let out a hearty laugh at his boldness.

Despite the lighthearted nature of my interactions with the other gang members, Ran knew better than to underestimate the depth of my loyalty and commitment to those closest to me - especially him. He couldn’t help himself so he let out a deep chuckle at the wave of pride that washed over him at noticing how nobody really dared cross the line with me once I had drawn it.

Ran Haitani silently vowed once again never to let anything jeopardize what truly mattered most: protecting those who meant everything to him - starting with me.

I nestled myself closer in Ran’s lap while he exchanged playful banter with Shion, showing everyone who my number one was - everything else came after him.

As Hanma made the other women laugh while they examined his tattooed hands with awe across the glass coffee table, more people filed into the VIP lounge. Most notably, Izana Kurokawa, the Tenjiku leader. All three men in my company immediately stood up and bowed, I slid off Ran’s lap, but he held onto my hand and squeezed it in apology for the abrupt dismissal at the arrival of their boss. Izana dismissed them to sit back down and nodded at me, in exchange for a bright smile on my face.

He beckoned me to join him at the booth in the corner of the lounge and I nodded, rubbing Ran’s hand with my thumb as I broke contact to join their leader.

I sat next to him like he asked, knowing better than to challenge him. He indulged in small talk with me, like he often did, asking me about my day and telling me about the delicious food he had eaten that day.

I complimented the way his hair fell forward today and fixed a few flyaways with a gentle touch to which he gratefully smiled, tilting his head to the side as his earrings clicked while he did so. 

He leaned in to kiss my cheek, a lot more polite than Hanma did. I rubbed his arm to show my appreciation for his wanting to spend a little time with me, our conversations always brought him a sense of normality in his very abnormal life where everyone expected something from him.

I stood up from the booth and sauntered over to Ran once again as the waiter brought Izana his drink, I pulled Ran to his feet and dragged him to the dance floor again.

As the music played its hypnotic rhythm, he effortlessly matched my pace step-for-step, allowing both physical proximity and emotional vulnerability between us without reservation or hesitation. Our world revolved solely around this fleeting moment suspended in time - a temporary sanctuary from reality, where all worries melted away under the weightless pressure of love and companionship.

We danced oblivious to everything except for the steady beat resonating through our beings, our hearts beating as one in perfect harmony.

As the beat changed into one more energetic than the last, we shared a wide-eyed look, recognising the song. It was one of the modern pop songs with a very catchy tune, but instead of dancing accordingly to it, we had made it a tradition to always slow dance to it. Ran jokingly bowed at the waist and extended a hand to me with sweet words.

“My lady?”

To that I curtsied and took his hand with an exaggerated, high-pitched voice.

“Don’t mind if I do, kind sir.”

He pulled me into his chest and we stood embraced, closer than some would think physically possible, swaying out of rhythm completely, along to some music only playing in our two minds. Our tradition made Shion and Hanma audibly groan and roll their eyes, Hanma exclaiming, “Here they fucking go again, I swear if I have to see…” 

The rest of his annoyance completely blended with the noise around us, nothing else existed apart from us. The women in the lounge and Izana looked at us with pleasant smiles, appreciating the gentle gesture they saw before them as there were far too few of those in the world.

And so we swayed gently out of sync with the rhythm pulsating around us. As the song ended, we pulled back a little, smiling at each other. Ran placed a soft kiss on my forehead. Hanma booed from the corner of the room, making me shout back, not moving my head from Ran’s chest.

“Shuji if I hear one more sentence out of your damn mouth that doesn’t end in ‘my queen’ I will step on you!”

I fixed him with a stare, but in true Hanma fashion, he switched to a cocky smile and retorted.

“How did you know I wanted you to step on me…” 

When Ran raised an eyebrow at him he finished the sentence.

“...my queen.”

I rolled my eyes at him and went up to the waiter.

“What’s a girl gotta do to get some fries in here?”

I flashed him a polite smile. I could tell he was nervous, even more so than before, since Izana showed up, sitting in his booth and drinking wine from a pint glass, scrolling on his phone and ignoring a million notifications he was receiving. The waiter winked at me and with a smile disappeared into the kitchen to ask the staff there for fries and some ketchup on the side.

When he brought me the fries, I blew him a kiss and sat at the bar on the high stools, taking one bite at a time, savouring the crispy exterior and the softness of the interior of each individual fry. Hanma walked up behind me and hugged me tight, apologising for taunting me earlier. I smiled up at his towering figure and pushed his face away from mine as he got too close, but kept our playful banter. He grabbed a few fries from the bowl in front of me and gave me a kiss on the forehead before leaving me to enjoy my food.

The ladies from before came up to me from both sides with wide eyes.

“Girl…how?!”

They wanted to know how I got all these men in the palm of my hand. How even Izana, the notorious Tenjiku leader himself asked for my company, allowed me to touch his hair, smiled all friendly, and thanked me for indulging in small talk with him. I shrugged and explained that I had been lucky to be in the right place at the right time to meet Ran, everything else came with the inexplicable bond we shared. I told them that they needed one good person on their side, someone to support them as I had the freedom to make myself cold to handle anyone else with the firmness they deserved. 

To emphasize my point I motioned Hanma over to join me. When he sat next to me, smiling, I leaned in as if I was going to whisper into his ear, but I just hiccuped, covered my mouth and started laughing with him. He tried tousling my hair, but I stopped his large hand from approaching and pushed it away. He stood up, hugged me tight, and muttered.

“Just using me for your own entertainment…I see how it is.”

With that, he left me alone with the women, their jaws nearly slacked open.

As the laughter subsided from the bar, Ran felt a sense of satisfaction bubbling within him at witnessing my easygoing rapport with not only his fellow gang members but also complete strangers who had found themselves drawn to my presence. Despite my constant casual dismissal of my own abilities to navigate this world, chalking it up to sheer luck, there was something he found undeniably captivating about the way I carried myself around others - a quiet confidence that spoke volumes without a single utterance.

It wasn’t long before Hanma rejoined the group, still reeling from my playful antics earlier on, but instead of appearing annoyed or frustrated by my teasing, he simply accepted it as part and parcel of being in my close proximity.

We continued conversing late into the night - sharing stories, trading jokes, and cementing bonds that ran deeper than most could ever comprehend.

As I made my way through the fries, Ran sat down next to me, causing a big smile to appear on my face, the one reserved for his presence only. He picked up a fry and we touched them together, a toast of some kind. We bit the tops of our respective fries and then we switched hands to feed the rest to each other. 

He told me the plans for the next mission, begging me not to ask Izana to make me part of it since it might require a feminine touch to succeed. Ran was hoping to avoid my involvement again, he’d rather me not have to deal with people touching me, even if the mission could be jeopardised. 

I reassured him I would only accept if there was no other way of doing it, and he seemed okay enough with that promise.

When we finished the portion of fries, we transferred back to the couch, settling comfortably into plush cushions, my body in his lap. I snuggled into his chest, my lips trailing his neck in reassuring gestures. 

I inevitably felt the tiredness of spending the whole day on my feet as the energy expelled at the club enveloped me. Ran immediately noticed and got me off his lap to stand up. He picked up my purse and, with his hand on the small of my back, led me to the exit, stopping only to explain to Shion that he was taking me home.

As we were making our way to the exit, I noticed that guy who had harassed me at the bar at the beginning of the night - he was now trying to touch up another woman who didn’t seem too keen on keeping him company. Ran followed my line of sight and noticed what I was frowning at. He made his way towards the man who stopped his wandering hands at the sight of Ran’s kind face, sometimes genuine, sometimes hiding the absolute boiling rage inside him.

Ran picked up the man’s hand and snapped it backwards, breaking his wrist. He turned to the woman and apologised she had to witness that, wishing her a better continuation of the night as he made his way back to me, flinging an arm around my shoulder and cackling along with me as we walked out into the cold night air.

When we reached Ran’s car, he opened the door for me before going to the driver’s side. He let me pick the music for our ride to his apartment. By now it was an unspoken rule that I sleep over at his place on Friday nights after we go clubbing. Neither one of us wanted to be out without one another any longer than necessary, so it was only logical that we go home together.

I put my favourite song on for the ride, both of us belting out the lyrics as Ran drove through almost nonexistent traffic at this time of night. We shared an unbreakable connection forged through countless nights spent navigating Tokyo's vibrant club scene side by side. And while neither of us had ever explicitly stated it out loud, there was no denying the fact that we cherished these peaceful interludes just as much as (if not more than) the wild parties themselves.

As we arrived at the garage, Ran leaned over the console to give me a kiss on the forehead before swinging out of the car and nearly running over to my side to open the door for me. We walked up to his apartment where I immediately went into the bathroom, grabbing the basket with my skincare items to take off my makeup and cleanse my face.

I emerged from the bathroom and noticed that Ran had made us cups of tea with honey - another thing we often indulged in after nights out. I usually picked hibiscus while he drank green tea.

He had already got himself comfortable, changing into his pyjamas which consisted of nothing but old sweatpants that I had bought him when he stayed over at my place for the first time ever. I revisited that memory fondly, taking in his naked torso, his tattoo visible in all its glory. 

I took the pot of moisturiser from the basket of toiletries and brought it over to him. I was the designated person to keep his tattoo vibrant and moisturised by slathering it in moisturiser about once a week. I took my role very seriously.

We walked over to the couch, where I pulled my dress off, with his help, and threw it into his bedroom through the door that had been left slightly ajar. I took the oversized t-shirt that he had taken out of his wardrobe for me and put it on over the top, reaching under it to unclasp my bra and shrug it off under the t-shirt, landing it on top of the dress.

I sat on Ran’s lap on the couch, once again, this time with a completely different energy between us, and took a bit of the moisturiser, starting from the top of his shoulder downwards, covering all his ink in a glossy layer.

Despite our vastly different backgrounds and personalities, there was no denying that something profound connected us on a level far beyond mere friendship. Was it fate? Destiny? Or were we simply two lost souls seeking solace in each other's arms amidst the chaos of Tokyo's criminal underworld? Whatever the answer was, one thing remained abundantly clear: this unlikely alliance had transformed into something far deeper and more meaningful than either of us could have ever imagined.

And so we sat together - two beings united by circumstance, driven by an insatiable desire for adventure, passion, and most importantly, comfort. We found comfort in each other in every way. Be it through defending each other from people who had no business being close to us or sharing secret knowledge in big crowds…even intimate moments like this one. We knew each other better than anyone else, these moments were completely ours, with nobody interrupting, nobody watching.

Ran reached over to hold my waist and steady me as I reached lower on his body to finish my treatment of his inked skin. I felt my face redden a little, though it did not make me falter in my practised movements whatsoever. When it was done, I spread what was left of the cream on his face, to which he made a face of feign-annoyance, as he did every single time I did this.

His eyes traced my body’s curves, my skin was tightening under his touch and gaze.

Ran knew that, beneath my playful exterior, there lay a fierce loyalty and unwavering devotion - qualities he had come to rely upon more than anything else during our journeys together.

With each passing moment, our bond grew stronger, fueled by trust, respect, and an undeniable attraction that refused to be ignored any longer.

Despite those intense feelings swirling between us like an invisible storm cloud threatening to engulf us whole, neither of us seemed willing (or perhaps capable) of addressing the elephant in the room. Instead, we chose to lose ourselves within this limbo state - teetering precariously on the precipice between friendship and something far more dangerous.

We weren’t strangers to a wandering touch or two. We had shared the bed countless times before, always staying pressed against each other, be it for warmth, for consolation after a hard time, in celebration of a job well done, or just because we could. Our hands knew each other’s bodies well. But we never took it further than just some friendly exploration. Not that we didn’t want to, no. But because the consequences of further embarkment could change the world forever.

It was the one thing we never spoke about. Even though everyone would refer to me as Ran’s wife, and Ran as my husband, we had never spoken about taking a step in that direction among ourselves, despite proudly admitting to others we’d marry each other in a heartbeat.

Tonight, however, as my skin tightened under his gentle touch, I felt the surge of emotions overwhelm me. The air between us crackled with an electric charge, fueled by years of shared experiences, laughter, pain, and heartache. We were a duo forged in the fires of adversity, bound by ties stronger than steel. I leaned forward to brush a strand of Ran’s hair out of his face, lingering with my face so close to his, trailing my gaze from his one eye to the other, and, with a determined breath, I pressed my lips to his.

Whether the explosions we heard were sounding outside the window in the street, or in our minds, that was going to remain a mystery. My entire body and soul were captured in the sensation of Ran’s scent, the texture of his soft lips, the connection between his hands and my waist, pulling me impossibly close to his body.

We had said I love you countless times, but it had never meant anything like this before. It was a slow and fast sensation at the same time. Full to the brim, overflowing. Our lips slotted together in an avalanche of I love yous, all of them unsaid, but felt deep inside. His hands quickly took over my entire body, as mine found their purchase in the locks of his hair, tugging lightly to hear a soft moan slip from his throat into my hungry mouth - a feast for my senses, a fresh spring for my thirsty soul.

With reckless abandon, we surrendered to each other completely. Baring not only our bodies, but also our hearts and souls in ways previously unexplored. This wasn’t just lust or infatuation. This was something far greater - true love manifesting itself through passion, vulnerability, and trust.

With a swift motion, Ran picked me up and started walking towards the bedroom. In the passion of the moment, he put me down to take his sweatpants off and I pulled off the shirt I had put on only minutes earlier - the only material covering us was our underwear.

To change that, I dropped to my knees in front of Ran, but he reacted quickly, pulling me back up by my arm, sitting down on the bed, and pulling me on top of him to straddle his hips. He continued kissing me, at the same time giving me the most loving caress on my cheek.

As I straddled him, my hips started moving to gain some friction against his erection. This managed to draw out a deep groan from the depth of his throat. His hands travelled up and down my sides, resting on my soft thighs on each side of his body.

Slowly but surely, we were crossing into uncharted territory - venturing deeper into the depths of each other’s souls with every stolen kiss and whispered word of affection. It was as if all barriers between us had crumbled away entirely, leaving nothing behind save for raw emotion and insatiable longing.

Like a tidal wave - with unbridled power all at once - Ran flipped us over to hover over me, like my own personal sun. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, he was in my head and in my heart, all over me and in front of my very lucky eyes. I felt like prey that wanted to be caught by the hunter.

He lowered one hand to my cheek, gently caressing it before lowering his lips into a kiss to rival all kisses. His fingers trailed down my naked body and dived under the hem of my underwear, pushing it down and off me before settling in between my wet folds, sliding through them, making me whimper at his touch as I never had before.

Our bodies melded together seamlessly, our hearts beating in perfect sync. There was no denying this magnetic pull between us; it was as if fate herself had conspired to bring these two lost souls together under extraordinary circumstances. And now here we were - lying naked on the bed, bathed in moonlight streaming through the open window.

His eyes burned a hole in mine, keeping contact even through the seductive act of bringing his slick fingers to his lips, first spreading the wetness on the soft plush of his bottom lip, then sucking in his finger to taste me. As his eyes closed at the sensation, I let out a gasp, feeling the desire pool in my belly.

Ran chuckled and dived in to kiss me, spreading the slick from his lips to mine. He nudged my legs open with his knee, slotting himself in between my legs, rising to his knees to see the view spread out in front of him - the view that stirred something primal within his very core.

My eyes were filled with desire and longing, my body trembled beneath his touch as if begging for release from this exquisite torment.

He knew what I needed now - what we both craved more than anything else in the world. And yet, there was still a lingering sensation…a fear of crossing the invisible line that might forever alter our relationship.

But, as he gazed down upon my face bathed in moonlight, all doubts faded away like wisps of smoke on the wind. This moment had been building since the day we had first met. It was inevitable now. The culmination of countless shared experiences and stolen glances that had brought us to this point.

Ran kissed down my stomach and reached the centre of all my frustration, the point on my body where all these vibrations went down to. He blew a stream of cold air onto it, sporting an innocent smile on his gentle face, lighting up when I whimpered in frustration.

He gave my needy clit one gentle kiss and dragged his body up to examine how his little torture affected me. I was reaching my hands up, so high, towards him. I needed to touch him. I needed to feel his smooth skin under my fingertips, needed to feel that this was real, and not some twisted dream.

Ran adjusted himself in front of my entrance, sliding the head of his cock through my wet folds, just like he had with his fingers. 

I was shivering with sick anticipation.

And then…

As we crossed the threshold of no return, Ran whispered into the darkness around us.

“I need this so much.”

He gently eased himself inside my welcoming warmth. His movements were slow at first, tentative almost. I let out a whine so loud that I had to press my palm to my mouth to muffle it a little. He kept going, slowly, carefully, like he was waiting for me to stop him. I wouldn’t dream of it.

Somehow he was still going, stretching my insides to fit him, letting out huffs of air from his lungs as he sank deeper and deeper.

I looked up at him with a blissful smile, like I was right where I was always supposed to be.

Ran finally stopped sinking, filling me up completely. I wrapped my legs around his waist to anchor us both to this moment under the street light spilling in through the window, mixing with the cool moonlight. I kept him in me as long as I could before he started rocking back and forth, making both of us gasp with pleasure.

With each passing moment, the lines between friendship and something far more intense blurred until they became indistinguishable from one another.

“Ran…”

My voice echoed through the bedroom, together with the sound of insatiable moans and skin-on-skin contact. I gripped him like my life depended on his body staying as close to me as possible. His name was like a plea on my lips being whispered into the abyss, like my only wish and only thought in this entire world.

His hands roamed freely across my body, exploring every curve and contour like they were discovering new territories for the first time. As we moved together rhythmically, lost in each other’s embrace, there was no denying it anymore. We had taken a leap of faith, crossed the boundaries once considered sacred.

In Ran’s mind, there remained an undeniable truth: no matter what happened next or how things turned out eventually…this moment would forever remain etched deep in our minds, reminding us about what could exist between two souls brave enough to explore love beyond limits.

I thought about the twists and turns of our friendship throughout the years, how I had never felt jealous of any person he had been with. I had never felt threatened by his love interests, thinking it was because what we had was so platonic that it couldn’t have grown into anything else. Now I was starting to think we were so far past soulmates that nobody else could ever have replaced us.

Not a single person could replace Ran’s hands on my breasts and hips. Not a single person could be better under him than me right now, basking in his hungry eyes, being eaten alive by his desire. And when we were together, we unleashed eternity. We were sailing high, and I was already falling. Falling into the abyss of infinite pleasure.

With a gasp and a high-pitched moan I fell, and Ran caught me, sliding one hand to rub my swollen clit and bring me back to earth to ride out my orgasm. I attached my mouth to his neck, but not like before, this time it was possessive. Before, the neck kisses had just been a reminder of my presence, that I had been there with him - for him - but this time I intended to leave a mark.

I sucked on the sensitive skin of his neck like I tried to draw blood and his moans were fueling my passion.

I jerked my hips upwards to meet his thrusts when I finally came down to earth. I could feel him deeper inside of me than anyone else had ever been. He was giving me his all, and I was greedily taking it.

Ran let out guttural moans, again, and again, and again, as I met his thrusts with equal force; our bodies were like two pieces of an intricate puzzle designed specifically for one another.

As we spiralled towards oblivion together, consumed by insatiable desire and boundless affection, there existed within us both an unspoken understanding - this wasn’t about sex or pleasure, it was about exploring love unlike any other.

And then it finally happened, when we reached the pinnacle of ecstasy together, time seemed to stand still for a moment. 

With the last thrust of Ran's hips into me, I realised I'd never been full before in my life. Not until then. When his face betrayed him, when he lost himself in me, when his voice couldn't handle any more, that's when we ascended from mere mortality. 

I fell apart under his body, and he absorbed me into his soul.

Nobody else could ever compare. Nobody else came close to what we had.

All thoughts vanished except those centred around each other: You are mine.

Ran gazed down at me with a mixture of love, lust, and admiration as we descended from the dizzying height of our orgasms. I turned to him to gauge his reaction and figure out whether we were still, as usual, on the same page.

“Are you okay?”

My voice didn’t show any worry, though I felt in my soul the importance of our next decision - and that we had already decided when we pressed our lips together the first time.

Ran could see that this moment held more weight than any other we had shared thus far.

“Alright, sweetheart. Let’s talk about everything.”

He continued, propping himself up on one elbow and tracing his finger gently across my cheekbone. “What do you want from us?”

I shivered under his touch, still not over the way he had touched me just before this.

“I want all of you. I want to keep what we had before, but add this into it.” I thought for a moment. “The only thing I’d change, though…no more entertaining other people the way we did before.”

Ran listened intently as I spoke, my words resonating with a sincerity that made him feel both humbled and exhilarated. I wanted all of him - not just the passionate lover, but also the loyal friend who had been by my side through thick and thin.

“I promise you, darling…from now on, it will be just us.”

I drew closer to him.

“Yeah?”

Ran couldn’t help but smile, my eagerness mirrored his own excitement about our newfound intimacy.

“Absolutely, sweetheart.”

He ran a tender hand through my hair, savouring the moment before speaking again.

“I want nothing more than to be here with you, experiencing life together in every possible way.”

I drew myself up to face him and decided to get closer still, so I sat on his lap. I stuck my pinky out and he hooked his own to mine.

“No more holding back.” 

“No more holding back. From now on, we’ll face whatever comes our way together. We are in this for real.”

I snickered as he leaned in to kiss me, our pinkies still intertwined.

“I love the sound of that. And I love you. With everything I have.”

Ran pulled away slightly, gazing into my eyes before responding.

“And I love you too. More than anything else in this world.”

He brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, tucking it gently behind my ear. We were completely connected now - hand in hand, heart to heart.

I sighed, remembering the reality that awaited us beyond these walls.

“We have to tell Izana. He asked me about us earlier.”

Ran’s expression darkened, his mind already coming up with the best way to break the news without causing too much friction.

“How did he ask? Was it casual or serious?”

I smirked and caressed Ran’s face.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s going to be fine. He asked me if we’d grown a pair to confess to each other because he was our number one supporter,” I moved my hand to Ran’s hair, stroking it softly, “he’s always seen through us, I think.”

Ran couldn’t help but feel relieved. 

“Alright. Once we do this, there’s no going back. Are you absolutely certain about wanting everyone else to know?”

I held his gaze with determination.

“Absolutely. I don’t want anyone to think of me without visualising you by my side…if they hadn’t already.”

Ran nodded.

“Let’s go see him tomorrow then. We can catch him at breakfast.”

He squeezed my hand gently.

“Just remember, no matter what happens after we tell him, nothing changes between us two. We’re in this together until the very end.”

I nodded solemnly. I was ready to stand by Ran no matter what.

“In that case, we should try to sleep. Don’t want to show up in front of him with bags under my eyes.”

Ran chuckled lightly. He pulled me closer, nuzzling against my neck.

“That sounds like a plan. But before we retire for the night, there’s something I want to do first.”

His eyes glinted mischievously as he trailed soft kisses along my jawline. His lips curved into a smirk as he leaned over and brushed his lips against mine in a tantalising whisper.

“I was thinking of using my tongue on you, darling. Would you like that?”

His words sent a shiver down my body and I nodded wordlessly. His smirk widened at my response. He wasted no time in flipping us over and sliding off the bed to his knees, positioning himself between my legs.

“Let’s see how good you taste now, hm?”

He ran his fingers over my thighs, savouring the anticipation building within us. Ran enjoyed the sight of me lying on the bed, waiting for him with deep breaths. He lowered his head, pressing a tender kiss to my inner thigh before moving higher.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.”

With that said, he parted my folds with his fingers and began lapping at my clit in long strokes. I whimpered as soon as his tongue made contact. My thighs pressed together in reflex as much as they could, pressing against Ran’s head. He chuckled softly against my sensitive flesh, relishing the way I reacted to his touch. He gently nudged my legs apart with his shoulders.

Slipping a finger inside of me, he began matching the rhythm of his tongue with slow thrusts. With each stroke, he could feel my skin getting warmer and my body more responsive.

“God, you taste amazing,” he murmured between licks and kisses, “I could do this all night.”

I tried to speak through shallow breaths.

“I- I’m not going to fuck to complain, R-Ran.”

His tongue was playing with me perfectly and, combined with his long elegant finger, it was heaven.

Ran continued his ministrations with renewed vigour, determined to push me closer to the edge. He moaned into my pussy, letting the vibrations add another layer of sensation.

“Mmm, you like that?” His voice was muffled by my flesh, but audible enough for me to hear his question.

As my grip tightened on the sheets, he knew I was getting there. He increased the pace of both, his tongue and finger, ever so slightly, eager to watch me fall apart under his expert touch. I hummed and whimpered to the rhythm of his finger, sprinting towards the edge of oblivion and, not looking back or hesitating, flinging myself into the endless ocean of pleasure.

I came on his tongue and I could hear his low chuckle vibrating my clit, sending me further, deeper, into the abyss.

Ran caught me as I fell apart, holding me tightly tethered to earth as he continued pleasuring me with his tongue and finger. As he felt the waves of my orgasm wash over him, he revelled in the knowledge that he had been the reason behind it.

“Good girl.”

He whispered between licks, prolonging my climax until I went limp in his arms.

I struggled to find the right words as I slowly opened my eyes to gaze at him, his fingers in his mouth, licking off my release. The only words I could think of were a long string of I love yous.

I love you I love you I love you I love you…

@bontensbabygirl @haitani-maki @animeangel21 It took me way too long to fit all this together on the page :(