#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.

[echo-s-land]

It's insane how most of the time I don't get how ppl interact and I also Don't Fucking Care

[elegyofthemoon]

debating with myself whether to put my liveblogs here or start reusing my old rambling blog as to not clutter main

but jsyk if i do wind up liveblogging here, my live blog tag for each game will always go "avil plays [game acronym here]" if you ever need to block it 👍🏼

same tag is used also for when i'm rambling about said game without playing

[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."

[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.

[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)

[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.

[jessilynallendilla]

DPXDC FENTONS IN GOTHAM AND MISCELLANEOUS

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

DP FIC REC HOME POST

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any

FENTONS WORKING IN GOTHAM 

Stalling  T 2,363 

Just a perfectly normal conversation between Arkham's newest psychiatrist, and its most troublesome resident. In the staff parking lot. During a jailbreak. How she walks out of this alive is a question even the Batman himself wants answered. 

Who's Afraid Of Who?  G 611 SERIES 

Someone gives Jazz the wrong interrogation room number. Now she goes to visit a certain Dr. Crane...The station officers realize the error in the files when visiting the other resource, 1 hour later it's too late. By the time they arrive at the interrogation room, they find...Dr Jasmine Nightingale became an expert on the mind to help people. That included almost all of Gotham's worst offenders. Dr Crane, aka Scarecrow, is about to find out more first hand. 

Danny The Intern  T 

Danny decided to intern at Wayne Enterprise. He's always so helpful, and polite, and gets the job done. He gets REALLY confused when his co-workers start acting weird: they would either pull him into another room; or make him do some outlandish task so far away, or a group of people suddenly surround him. It’s as if they are trying to hide him from someone. Meanwhile, there is an unspoken agreement amongst the employees: Rule #4: DO NOT LET ANY WAYNES SEE HIM. Otherwise, they are going to lose their most helpful intern (and hopefully a permanent employee) because of those damn Wayne’s adopting addictions. Though of course, it wasn’t long until they messed up Rule #4. 

Trivia Night  G 

Danny gets a job at some underground bar as one of the tenders there. The problem? He wasn’t informed that Gotham’s most dangerous villains would frequently go out for drinks, using said bar to do so. And naturally, through the power of tired college student and brunt-out hero, he manages to gain favor of all of them. So much so that they begin including him on planning heists, kidnappings, etc 

Just Another ̶L̶A̶ Gotham Devotee~  T 

Danny didn't expect much after leaving Amity and his vigilante career for a job at Wayne Tech R&D. All he wanted was a decent roof over his head, non ecto-contaminated food in his fridge, and maybe to stop getting thrown into buildings so often. Hell, he'd even negotiate that last point if it kept the Bats of his back. Unfortunately, fate has never been kind. Ancients, he needs a vacation. 

Specter Of The Month  T 

Far from Amity and those who'd follow, Danny does the only sensible option to make money and watch over his sister. Apply to become an Arkham Asylum security guard. When breakout rates drop and Penguin's released spouting rumors of a ghost haunting BlackGate, a certain Tim Drake grows curious. 

Gotham's Ghostly Bartender  T 

Danny after revealing to his parents he is Phantom and taking his place as King of the Infinite Realms, decides to try his luck as human opening a nightclub in Gotham. It´s going great until he attracts the attention of the Bats because he can´t help going feral on the Joker everytime he finds him on the city 

Help! My Teacher's A Mad Scientist  NR 

wherein Danny is a metalwork teacher at Gotham academy and ends up subbing for Tim's chemistry class. Measurements are just suggestions. 

Pitch-Dark Shades  T 

Danny Fenton is trying to build a new life in Gotham after closing up the connections to the Ghost Zone. Not that all connections are entirely broken, still being able to perceive shades and give them strength when he connects to one of their prized objects. Tim Drake is trying to find his own place in the world, focusing on becoming a better detective by solving cold cases in his spare time. When Tim and Danny meet, a new (begrudging) partnership starts to bloom to solve even the hardest of cases. Or it would if only they told each other the truth. 

New Job, Who's This?  T 8,000 SERIES 

Danny has an interview with the Engineering Team at Wayne Enterprises. He gets a job, but not where he expected. 

Those Who Serve.  T 

Alfred Pennyworth sees a homeless teen who looks like he'd fit right into the Wayne family and decides to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he's just going to leave this very sad, possibly meta teenager alone when there's more than enough space in the Manor to house one more child in need. 

A Matter Of Opinion  M 13,096 

Jasmine Fenton goes down a different path in her attempt to care for her brother. Unfortunately, she could not stop her parents from taking her brother apart. Now, his core is slowly rebuilding his body from infancy, and someone has to pay for letting the Anti-Ecto Acts exist. When she bites off more than she can chew, she learns how to grow bigger teeth, and hunts down bigger prey. 

The Curious Case Of D. Grayson  T 

Dick Grayson gets a job in Wayne Industries as an electrical engineer, or so is the word. Except it's not Dick who gets the job but Danny Grayson, half ghost and professional disaster. Of course, because nothing is ever easy for Danny, the world mistakes him for the prolific first child of Bruce Wayne and therefore rumours start Dick Grayson got married in secret. What could possibly go wrong, am I right? 

Penny Two  T 6,822 

Alfred decides to hire Danny Fentom as an assistant butler. Bruce is uncertain about having a new person in his house. 

He Can See Ghosts Because He’s A Medium, Obviously  NR SERIES 

But no, what convinced him he’s in a different dimension are the ghosts. They’re nothing like the ghosts from the infinite realms, more like stereotypical ghosts kids who were raised normally believe in. The ones no one can see except in the flickering of lights, something falling when it shouldn’t, a strange noise or even sometimes a shadowy figure. But not for Danny, cause of course he can’t be normal. To him these ghosts look like every other living person around him. Or Danny gets trapped in the DC universe, specifically Gotham, and decides since he can see ghosts here he may as well use it. Or or Danny the medium! 

Ghost In The Morgue  M 

There's something off about the new Medical Examiner for the Gotham City Police Department. Danny Fenton, now working for the G.C.P.D. is good at his job. Very good. His reports are always done promptly and accurately. Scarily accurate. His "unofficial reports" even more so, listing details the medical examiner shouldn't know. He's an oddity, and oddities in Gotham attract Bats. 

Mondays, Am I Right?  T 2,681 SERIES 

There was a long silence. He heard his sister breathe in, breathe out, like she was mentally preparing herself to say something. “I… I heard, from other interns I talked to, that guard positions are always open. And that it’s super easy to get in.” 

Unnerving  T 

There's a new doctor at Arkham Asylum, and with the new doctor came a new security guard. Or, Jazz decided to work in Arkham and now it's everyone's problem. 

Arkham Phantom: The Cryptic Security Guard  NR 

Danny becomes a security guard at Arkham. 

Graveyard Shift  NR 

He moved slowly through the dark hall as the alarms blared and flashed, his eyes cutting through the dark. Where. Where did he go? He pauses at a sound, glancing down the left hall as a masked group crouches and goes still. Not paying them any mind, he pays more attention to the blue smoke that finds its way out his throat, curling around his face before trailing off down the hall. He starts walking again. He has someone to find. With barely a thought he slowly fades from the visible spectrum as he continues down the straight hall. 

Shrike  T 

Danny Fenton starts a new life in Gotham but ghosts keep following him, forcing him to return as Phantom to try and keep them in control. The Bats are trying to hunt down the new meta due to the destruction he causes. In his civilian life, Danny finds himself being questioned about his background and knowledge of technology when he wins a full ride scholarship and fellowship from Wayne Enterprises. Both sides of his life ends crumbling before him. 

DANNY IN GOTHAM 

Wait, I'm A What?  T 

after Clockwork dropped of Danny in Gotham he tries to make the best out of the situation which includes helping out some people. Except along the way that led to rumors that he was an up-and-coming crime boss. A rumor he was largely unaware of. 

Wait! I’m A Cartoon Over Here!?!  T 

A new vigilante group had been working the rounds. Every rogue or villain they came across for the past week got defeated in seconds. Bruce has been aging like a fly due to the stress of trying to catch them. Everyone else wishes to meet and get their autographs. While Damian and Dick can’t figure out why this group's actions, tools, and abilities feel so familiar. That is until Damian gets saved by a teen with snow-white hair and glowing green eyes. Damian just got saved by a cartoon character Dick and he watches regularly. Meanwhile, Danny and the gang got dumped into the DC Universe. They are familiar with the comics, shows, and movies, they know what’s up, and they can survive! They plan not to draw too much attention. Maybe help a person here or there? get an autograph or ten? But, definitely find a way back home.  That plan fails immediately, and now, they’re a vigilante group with a dumb name. But, as long as they stay in the shadows, they should be fine! That all changes when Danny saves Robin and learns something very important yet terrifying. 

Cry Of The Mourning Dove  T   

Danny's made it this far from Amity. An alley way, somewhere in Gotham city. He had a goal, but he's so injured... He's not sure he's gonna find who he needs to find. Red Robin and Red Hood find him first. A kid. Bleeding green. With Bruce Wayne's face. 

Bus To Nowhere  T 

Is it running from your problems if your problems consider you to be a dead imprint of consciousness that killed their son? Yes, but Danny tries not to think about how his nightmares of his parents trying to kill him came true when they found out he was Phantom. After being on the run from his parents and the government for a couple of months, moving from town to town, Danny ends up in Gotham City and decides to risk staying in Batman's territory. He'd take the wrath of Batman over live vivisection via beloved parents or being studied and torn apart by the government. Besides, he's not a meta. Being dead is a medical condition. 

Change In Management  T SERIES 

Desperate for energy to sustain herself and her city, Gotham tries to consume Phantom but loses and instead bequeaths her mantle to him as she destabilizes. This has some interesting consequences as Danny now finds himself inexplicably linked to a crime-ridden city in another dimension. 

In The Dead Of Night  T 

Danny's life has never been normal. One night he is thrust into a situation he never wanted and certainly didn't ask for. Now lost, alone, and injured in an unfamiliar city, he must rely on the help of strangers in the forms of Gotham City's vigilantes, and the family of Bruce Wayne. In order to survive and keep himself out of the hands of an insane cult that is desperately seeking out a power far greater than anyone should have. 

Thirty-Odd Days Of Chasing An Enigma  T 

Danny and the Batfam play hide and seek and tag, all on the palm of Danny's hand, while he tries to gain some much needed balance after a reveal gone bad. 

Anarchic  T 5,585 SERIES 

Danny Fenton is set free on another world, he really should've taken the "No consequences" claim with a pinch of salt 

Hatred At First Sight  G 1,304 

The residence of Gotham were used to rogue attacks and most didn't bat an eye to the extravagance that was the Joker even as everyone watching as he live filmed his assault on the bank in a numb kind of horror that you could only acquire through exposure. He was holding a bunch of hostages, asking the watchers what he should do with them with a wide unhinged smile and maliciously gleeful eyes that watched his many victims squirm in terror. Until he looked at the skrunky kid in a ratty hoodie that looked like he could be a Wayne adoptee. And both froze for a good minute. And like some kind of demented switch got flipped the kid snarled and (still with his hands tied behind his back mind you) launched himself at the Joker. 

Danny's Guide To Not Dying Alone On The Street  G 

After his parents chase him out of the city, Danny finds his way to Gotham to stay out of the eye of the GIW or any other ghost hunters who might be interested in him. After he accidentally shows his powers in a very public setting, can he avoid the ghosts of his past and the ever-increasing number of Gotham Vigilantes interested in him? 

Run Ghost Run  NR 

Danny escaped from the GIW and his parents, but he had to keep running. If those in the infinite realm found out what happened war would happen. Clockwork said to follow the birds and bats whatever that means. For now, he would just hide in Gotham. No one would look for him there. 

Gotham's Haunted  G 

Five times Danny Surprised a Batkid and that one time he was forcefully adopted by Bruce Wayne. 

No Laughing Matter  NR 

Danny kills the Joker, not knowing of the kill switch set to release Joker gas the moment Jokers heart stops beating 

Taking Flight  T 

Danny decides to tell his parents the truth. It doesn't go so hot. Fleeing Amity Park for his life he decides Gotham is the best place to fall through the cracks. Sadly as a black-haired blue-eyed teen with a strong sense of morality the adoption papers were half filled out. Unfortunately for Bruce, Danny has a thing about rich guys with secret identities who want to adopt him. 

Death Is Not The Enemy  T 

Danny gets summoned into a new universe, makes some friends, becomes part of the most powerful vigilante clan ever, punches a bunch of satanists, finds the meaning of family and gets a chance at dreaming big. Definitely not in that order 

Concession To Realism  G 

Clockwork sends Danny to a universe where he'll be safe until he can take up the mantle of Ghost King, a dimension far away from the Fentons and other ghost hunters. Danny is less than thrilled, especially when he starts developing a soft spot for some local bats. 

And So It Ghost   T 65,805 SERIES 

When Danny Fenton is invited to a Technology Fair in Gotham he hopes it will help open doors to a good college. What he doesn't expect is an attack by a technology obsessed ghost, or a visit from the Batman himself. Can Danny keep his identity a secret while also scoring a spot at Gotham University? Or will everything come crashing down around his ears like usual? 

MISC 

A Vigilante A Day Keeps The Government Away  M 11,158 

Lucius Fox gets a phone call he'd never expected from a source even more unexpected. Now, he's got to figure out what to do with a betrayed child, a traumatized nephew, a protective son, and an adoption-prone Bat. 

I Can Be Both Even If It's Hard (And It's Hard)  G 52,999 SERIES 

Sam and Tucker ran to get Jazz and didn't see Danny come out of the portal. By the time they return Danny has transformed back. This changes things. 

-=INSERT TERM=-  T 

“It's probably just identity theft” Tim looked up from his laptop in the corner as he said it, a courtesy Jason didn't return. “Maybe” he sighed, reading through the document in front of him again. Apparently a kid had cashed in his government trust fund, two years after his death. “I don't know why you care” Tim continued, returning to his screen. Originally Jason hadden’t, had even been offended when Bruce handed him the file with instructions to ‘look into this’. However, the more he did look into it, the more he realised this wasn’t really about the trust fund at all. 

Dull Residue Of What Once Was (A Shattered Cloud Of Swirling Doves)  T SERIES 

Danny didn't expect to become Ghost King. He definitely didn't expect or want to become a target for summoning because of it. He's pretty annoyed at this point. But hey, at least he gets to meet some of his favorite heroes! The Batclan meets King Phantom. It's very alarming. 

Of Course It's A Cult  T 2,696 SERIES 

Danny did not sign up for kingship. Nor did he sign up for random summons by crazy cult people. Fortunately, the sacrifices for this one are still alive and are slightly familiar. 

The Historian  NR SERIES 

I have even documented some stories claiming that the Bat is a living person. Of course, these claims are preposterous and should be immediately discounted. What living person would willingly choose to dress as a bat to fight crime? 

Dead Men Don't Bleed  M 

Dead men don't bleed. When the body begins to break down, the blood settles and congeals in the veins, clotting and preventing them from being able to bleed like the living. This, of course, isn't an issue, so long as your corpse stays dead. 

Tape 01  NR 

Daniel "Danny" James Fenton wasn't just a normal young adult and while everyone seemed to accept this fact, nobody was able to understand it. That's the point, where all his problems started to evolve into something much bigger. So nobody noticed when he disappeared... 

When The Clown No Longer Laughed  M SERIES 

Things have been going well for Arkham Asylum. There haven't been any breakouts in a while, a new team of Psychologists are starting to make a breakthrough with the residents, and Gotham is starting to heal. But with the recent suicide of one Mr. Freeze, Batman decides to look into what is happening in Arkham Asylum. Dr. Penelope Spectra talks about the good she is doing for the inmates, and how they are finally being rehabilitated. But Batman knew something was deeply wrong. When the Clown no longer laughed. 

Time Traveler Code  G 1,486 

Danny has to (re)introduce himself to Batman and his family after meeting them in the alternate Dan future. He has a few other big pieces of information to break to them, too 

[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 :)

[moon-my-beloved]

Run: (Eventual 141 x Vamp! Reader, but first let’s start from the beginning. 🕯️)

Bloodied, injured, and exhausted, Laswell finds herself in the last place she would like to be lost in: the woods. After escaping what was supposed to be her ultimate death, Kate wanders off into the wilderness in hopes of finding refuge. She is unlikely to make it out of this situation alive.. at least that’s what she thought.

TW: blood, mentions of a gun shot wound, reader can be considered as fem but anyone is welcomed to read it! that’s pretty much it babes. xoxo

— September 15, 1996. Location: Unknown

If you were to ask Kate Laswell where she would be in the last twenty-four hours, she wouldn’t even muster the thought of being in the most unpleasant and unfortunate positions. Nothing surprised her anymore, not when you were doing work that’s perceived as illegal, unethical, and dangerous. Kate knew this. She understood this job would bring unavoidable losses, sacrifices, and risks. She knew it as soon as she signed those papers to get her hands dirty. To keep the world safe from such cruelty she had and has to see. This was her life now and she was okay with it.. That was, until now.

Kate had no fucking idea where she was going. She had been running for god knows how long once she heard the sound of booming voices echoing through the hallway as they made their way into the small base. Slamming, kicking, and taking doors down to the ground from the other side of the building. She had been finishing up her last report when she and her team were ambushed. Things taking a dark turn before the gears in Laswell’s head could even process what was going on. ‘So much for being under high surveillance.’

She didn’t manage to get much. Just her laptop, a few files that read ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ in red bold letters, an already messed up USB along with a crappy radio in hopes of getting in contact with the agency before she was bolting to the nearest exit she could find. Her colleagues were long gone, she knew it. She heard it.

She didn’t have much time, barely managing to escape bullets flying past her while throwing her leg over the sill of the window and deciding that it was a safe enough jump for a three-story building. Her ribs making immediate contact with the grass and soiled dirt in an attempt to shield her prized possessions from meeting their ultimate death.

Managing to catch her breath, she shot up. The denim of her jeans and shirt soaking up all the mud from the fall. It was uncomfortable the way the material stuck itself to her skin, but that was the least of her concerns at this point. The wet ground made an irking ‘squelch’ with each stride she took, sprinting through the trees mindlessly to wherever the woods would take her. If she even got far enough.

‘Just keep running Laswell. Run and find somewhere to hide.’

And that she did. Chanting those two sentences over and over again like it was a damn prayer. Running to the woods was probably a bad idea, but where else would she have gone? The base was just a small pebble in the middle of endless trees. It was pitch dark and it was getting cold. No noise at all except for the ringing in her ears and the rustling of leaves she left behind. You could only go so far with adrenaline running through your veins before it eventually runs out.

She must have been far away now. At least enough to catch her breath now that she feels her body crashing down from that pure bliss of epinephrine. Strands of hair sticking to her forehead from exhaustion. Not even noticing the big crimson spot forming on her thigh but hell could she feel it now. It was a miracle she wasn’t dead by now.

She must have gotten hit when she was trying to get out. ‘Shit. Okay, okay, everything’s going to be fine.’ Hissing through her teeth, she reaches out to inspect it. Leaning down against the trunk of one of the many trees and lifting her leg to get a better view. The glow of the moon blessing her with enough light for her to see the big gaping hole in her jeans. Did it go through? She had no idea. Too busy focusing on not face-planting on the dirty ground as her sight grew dim with the amount of blood she had lost. Skin glistening with all the sweat she was accumulating despite feeling more cold than usual. A shiver running down her spine and teeth clattering against each other. She felt like a whole bucket of ice just got dumped on her.

‘Getting eaten alive by nature wouldn’t be such a bad way to go,’ She thinks to herself. But before she could feed into the thought some more and become one with the food chain, she zeroes in on a roof. Seemingly making itself known from behind the leaves of the too tall trees.

‘She can make it. Just a little further.’

She takes a deep breath as she pushes herself off the trunk, biting down on her bottom lip to keep a cry from slipping into the night. The pain was getting worse. A hot, almost burning sensation spread throughout her thigh and body. She tries not to put too much pressure on her leg and slowly walks (more like drags) her way down the dark trail just enough to catch a better glimpse of the house. It’s big. It’s undeniably huge the more she gets closer to it. It’s not just a house, it’s a manor. What is a manor doing in the middle of the woods? Well, with how old and unkempt it looks, she wouldn’t blame anyone if they mistook it as one with the trees considering how roots, stems, vines, and leaves seem to be sprouting from every corner of the walls. It looks abandoned, that's for sure. No one would live in the middle of nowhere where there’s no food source let alone transportation.

Taking a look around, Kate sees nothing. No neighboring houses, cars, or bicycles that would hint at any sign of life. Not even a rolled-up piece of newspaper was left scattered on the ground. It’s secluded, but so out of place that it makes Laswell’s gut twist with uneasiness. Either no one lives here or nobody knows this place even exists. The thought alone just makes her more hesitant to try and figure out the truth. The unbearable pain only got worse the more she stood there thinking of what to do next.

‘Fuck it.’

If she was going to die, she would at least die with some dignity left in her. Mustering up all the strength she could, she limped her way towards the door. Dread filled her senses once she noticed that she would have to climb a few steps of stairs before she could finally reach the handle. Trying not to put too much pressure on her bad leg, she settles on hopping up the stairs with her good one. Her body must have decided that she had enough once she made it to the last step and before she knew it, she was falling into the abyss, her ears ringing endlessly until there was nothing but darkness.

⛰︎↟ ⛰︎↟ ⛰︎↟

The first thing Kate notices when she wakes up is the softness and warmth surrounding her. The smell of something sweet and earthy filling her nose as she ponders what it might be. Patchouli? Lavender? Maybe it’s vanilla bean.. whatever it is, it’s comforting. An overwhelming sense of tranquility washing over her body as she shifts onto the other side of the cushion– wait. Cushion?

The realization dawns on her as she sits up abruptly, eyes flying open in confusion and fear. She was on a couch, a nice one. Pillowy cushions with a smooth texture to them as she traced her palm against the velvet fabric. The ringing in her ear interrupted her yet again as a pained groan slipped past her lips now that she was fully conscious. She sits there for a while until the tinnitus stops, hand pressed up against her head as she frantically takes in her surroundings. She was inside the manor, in the living room from what it appeared to be. The interior of it was much more.. beautiful. A complete contrast to what it looked like from outside. A dim, golden glow cascading over the room with how the lamp beside her shined. Across from her there was a fireplace, freshly lit on that she could still feel the heat of it lingering in the air. In front of her there was a table, shiny wood reflecting on itself. Everything looked so antique. Whoever lived here was either filthy rich or was stuck in the eighteenth century.

Her train of thought was disrupted when she heard the sound of a voice, head whipping to see who was the source of it.

“Finally awake?” The figure asks, tray in your hand as you carefully inch closer to her. “Didn’t know what you prefer so I sett-”

“Don’t come closer,” Kate states, twisting the blanket around her fingers and pressing her back against the corner of the couch. “Who are you? Where am I?” She sputters out, a hint of demand in her tone. For all she knows, you could be someone out to kill her. Laswell couldn’t risk herself putting her trust on a complete stranger. Let alone one she couldn’t see. Your face was completely covered by a veil of some sorts, only managing to catch a small silhouette of your face with how the material pressed up against your features. Your choice of clothing was rather modest and old-fashioned. You weren’t one for color, Laswell assumed. The color black consuming your form from your long-sleeved shirt down to your long black skirt, boots barely peeking out from under the material.

“You mustn’t move too much, wouldn’t want you to open your wound after all my hard work.” You said, dismissing her questions while carefully setting the tray down against the table, and pouring her a cup of tea. “It’s herbal tea, it’s good.” You added, carefully pushing the porcelain cup towards her as you kept your distance. Wound? Oh. She must have hit her head pretty hard when she passed out, throwing the blanket off of her to reveal her bandaged thigh. It didn’t even hurt anymore, eyebrows furrowed and mouth gaping with bewilderment. It felt like she never even got shot. Had she come across a witch of some sort?

“Uh.. thank you?” She mutters, leaning a bit to grab the cup carefully to take a sip of the warm beverage. Mhm. It’s delicious. Usually, she preferred to drink coffee on days where missions like these kept her up until the crack of dawn. Yet, here she was drinking tea with an odd stranger after almost getting killed. An awkward silence filled the room, followed by the sound of her sips as you sat across from her in an armchair. Legs crossed with your hands placed in front of your lap, not particularly looking at her but your body language signaling that you were acknowledging her presence. “You were gone for quite some time. Thought you would never wake up,” You finally said. Head turning to face her. “You shouldn’t be out here.”

“Yeah.. I ran into some trouble..” It wasn’t a complete lie, she wasn’t about to spill private information to you just because you’ve been polite to her so far. It all could be an act. You can never be too sure.

You must have detected her uneasiness towards you, getting up suddenly to exit the room before coming back with her belongings. “I didn’t peek through your things if that’s what you’re worried about. Whatever your dilemma is, that is none of my concern,” You said rather abruptly, dropping her stuff beside her. Kate was ready to throw a glare at your direction for handling her things with no care just to see your covered face already facing her. She might not be able to see you how you look, but she can feel your eyes pinning her in place through the fabric like an unseen force. “I can take you to an area where your friends can come and pick you up,” You explain, reaching out to grab the radio and tapping your fingernail against it. “If you promise me one thing.” You say, tone eerily stoic. “Never come back here, understand?”

Feeling paralyzed under your gaze, she nodded. Clammy hands gripping onto her things as she threw her legs over the couch. Feet planting against the patterned carpet. ‘Where were her shoes?’ As if you read her mind, you drop her muddied boots next to her. “I’ll wait for you by the door. Hurry up.” Before she could even manage a word, you were rounding the corner of the living room and disappearing into the shadows of the enormous manor.

‘She needs to get the fuck out of here.’

Without a second thought, she hastily put her boots on, not even caring to properly tie her shoelaces. Her thoughts were all over the place. First, the mission was an absolute failure that cost the lives of people, and probably much worse for those who didn’t manage to escape. Second, she wanders off into the wilderness in hopes of finding an empty flat to hide in until she could contact the damn general only to faint and find herself inside someone else’s home. Now, she’s here. Struggling to get in contact with the intelligence unit. Just her luck.

“This is Kate Laswell, do you copy? Over.” Static. That’s all she’s been hearing for the past five minutes and her patience was wearing thin. “This is Kate Laswell, CIA communications analyst. Do you co—”

A voice from the other end of the line speaks. She recognizes that voice. Joseph Allen, chief of the communications department she works for within the agency. “Bravo-4, we hear you loud and clear Laswell. What’s your status?” Allen asks, a hint of concern laced in his tone that makes her feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. “It’s good to hear you, Allen.. I-I’m doing okay. A bit roughed up, but alive and well,” She stammers a bit, clutching onto her things before taking a deep breath in. “Don’t worry Kate, we’ll get you out of there in no time. Sending a chopper your way. Hang tight.” The man reassures her, stating how there would be a few soldiers waiting to bring her back. With that, she bids her goodbyes to the chief, swiftly grabbing her things, and slowly approaching you.

The door was cracked open beside you as you waited for her arrival. Silently, you beckon her to go first. The bright light and melody of birds chirping greeting her as she takes her first steps. A new day has come. It was nighttime when she stumbled upon your house, but now that the sun has come up, she has a clear view of the environment. Trees as tall as ever, a bit less intimidating with light now. Her boots stepped on dried leaves with fall inching closer, a crisp, cold wind hitting her face sending shivers down Laswell’s spine. Everything was much brighter, more alive.

That feeling of peace was short-lived, hearing you close the door and start walking off into the woods without even looking back if she was following. You hadn’t mentioned where exactly you were taking her, doubt sending warning bells in her brain not to follow you. Burying her nerves, the woman caught up to you, keeping her distance as she trailed behind you with a wary look. This was probably the only chance for her to get home, she couldn’t risk losing it. ‘This job would bring unavoidable losses, sacrifices, and risks.’ She reminded herself.

⛰︎↟ ⛰︎↟ ⛰︎↟

Laswell didn’t know how long the two of you were walking for. An hour at least from how her feet were starting to get sore. This whole time, you haven’t said anything. Not a peep or glance her way. You were undeniably quiet. In fact, a little too quiet for her own comfort. With every step you took, it was like you were floating. Pristine and soundless. The crunch of leaves being heard by her own movements. Creepy.

Finding the courage, she spoke up. “How long have you been here for? It’s well hidden from the outside world.” She inquired, making a show of looking around to distract herself from her own self-consciousness. Shockingly, you halt in your steps, almost like you weren’t expecting her to ask questions, let alone about you.

“I’ve been here for most of my life. It was my family’s home originally. They’ve passed long ago now, leaving me with it.” You admit. Irritation lacing your tone at the mention of your parents. Must not have a good relationship with them. She couldn’t blame you, her relationship with hers was rather.. complicated. She barely saw them but on days she did, all she saw was disappointment and disgust. Partly because of her job, and the other half when they found out that their good daughter didn’t meet their traditional standards. She was fine with that. Sometimes she couldn’t bear to see their faces let alone hear them. It was for the best. Still, she felt bad for asking.

“I’m sorry to hear that, I did-” You wave a hand dismissively, turning around to face her. “No need.”

Laswell didn’t ask any more questions. A few minutes passed by before you stopped in your tracks. “We are here.” You announced. Nothing seemed to be too out of the ordinary, it was much more spacious, trees surrounding the empty land they were on, a few rocks covered in moss along with a few violets blooming in purples and whites. Perhaps this was a common area for hitchhikers to be rescued for those who got lost. ‘You probably encounter plenty of people carelessly wandering into the woods.’

“Well, this is where we go our separate ways.” You say, turning around without a goodbye and beginning to walk back into the endless path. Not putting too much thought into it, Laswell calls out for you. “Wait!” She shouts, watching you stop, and turn around to meet her nervous gaze. “I just wanted to say thank you.. for everything.” Laswell admits, a gust of wind passing between you two as you continue to stay silent. “I never got your name, I’m Kate, Kate Laswell.” She says, almost breathlessly. Anticipation filling her senses as you grab onto the corner of the piece of cloth and lift it up. Immediately, she’s struck by the void of your eyes. A small smile she could only describe as sad decorating your face before you opened your mouth.

“Don’t worry, you’ll forget.”

Laswell didn’t have the chance to ask what you meant before her knees buckled, making her lose her balance and fall to the ground. Black dots taking over her vision. She was immobile, unable to speak or move as she watched you disappear into the trees. Laswell felt herself being disassembled from her own body, a voice in the back of her mind begging her to get up. She couldn't. Her vision slowly dimmed, a force luring her into the abyss again until she couldn’t reach the top of the ocean and let the darkness consume her as a whole.

(A/N: I’ve had this whole idea planned out already for quite some time but never really could commit to it, until now!! I’m so happy I got to finish it after months. Hope you guys enjoy! <33)

[bambisnc]

he's the one that's livin' in my system baby! [01]

pairing : sungchan x reader genre : fluffy roommates au <3 lil angst bc reader is really out here questioning their whole existence (js like me fr) cw/tw : none! wc : 516 w 0.0

10 days to go till finals. you are not holding up as well you would have liked. it's not as if you're not studying it's just.. the need to achieve near perfect status in each subject leads to anxiety which in turn leads to procrastination. shocker.

you sigh, pushing your chair away from the desk and stretch in an attempt to provide relief to your sore muscles - a result of being hunched over your notebook, doodling away mindlessly. you were supposed to have completed 4 chapters by now, but the 20 minute turned 3 hour break you spent watching random videos on your laptop very generously gave you a aching throb behind your eyes. hence the doodling, in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

..needless to say, it wasn't very successful. okay, you think, time for the last resort. you walk out of your room to the one adjacent to yours, and knock on its door lightly.

"'s open"

peeking your head in, your heart can't help but feel a little lighter at the sight of your roommate, sungchan, lounging on his bed with his back against the wall as he cutely frowns at some game on his phone, having already been through the hell that is finals about a week ago due to being in a different uni.

"i really don't know why you even borrow to knock anymore, not like i'd ever say no to you - even if you're just going to stand and stare at me~", being charming always comes naturally to him, unfortunately for you.

huffing a bit, trying to think of a witty reply, but that headache really just hates your entire existence huh? you wordlessly move to his bed. somehow sungchan understands what you're trying to do and complies with your wish without a single complaint because, in his own words, how could he ever say no to you?

pulling you closer to him, he lays your head on his thigh, draping a throw blanket over you with such gentleness that one could easily perceive the concern in his actions, maybe a bit too much considering you were just roommates.. because he refuses to address his feelings, preferring instead to hide behind flirty remarks - you've emphasized their friendship one too many times. he adjusts his crossed legs, phone long forgotten, as he tucks that one strand of hair that always falls on your face behind your ear.

you hear him mumble something about resting well. and then a feather soft, barely there brush of his lips against your forehead.

the slumber that follows after is heavenly, you swear you always sleep better around (or on) sungchan. not that you would ever breathe a single word of this to him. he's your roommate for god's sake - you'd rather suffer under the weight of unrequited feelings than to confess and damage the beautiful relation you've managed to form with the star athlete, who believes teasing you is a daily goal that he must fulfill.

on second thoughts, you're not sure how long you can keep your facade up...

old notes : so so self indulgent.. i'll make a prettier layout as soon as my exams r done frfr... [edit- doneish !] new notes : its a series now !11!!!! + [series m.list] [m.list]

[bewiiitched]

Sex doll (Logan Howlett x reader)

Ever since I saw the movie I haven't been able to shake my obsession with Wolverine, and I got this idea after reading several fanfics on a03 that are unfortunately on hiatus.

Summary: Wade and Reader have a past thanks to the Weapon X project, after escaping from there, she becomes his neighbor, being able to know peace until she runs into Logan and brings back memories of her original version.

Disclaimer: English is not my native language, I apologize if there are any mistakes.

Warnings: This is a +18 fanfic, it includes several dark themes such as rape, drug use, and more adult content.

Oral sex (both receive) P in V, chocking, rough sex, dom!logan, soft!Wade (mostly), friend!Wade, ass play, a lot of angst, age gap (reader is mid 20's)

/////

INTRO:

It was midnight when they both returned covered in sweat and blood to the apartment and after several attempts to convince Logan to stay, he had finally decided to spend a few days in the building until he could adapt.

Living one floor below the apartment she shared with the blind Al, Reader rarely missed any of the discussions that undoubtedly arose because of the mercenary and yet, even if her senses were not enhanced, she doubted that she could pass for his familiar voice that had so exasperated her superiors in the past.

Turning off the tap suddenly and leaving the dishes half-cleaned, she almost lunged towards the door, throwing it open with an accusatory look as she watched the red silhouette of his suit disappear down the hall towards the stairs. — WADE WILSON.

She exclaimed, making the mercenary freeze with an innocent smile and his hands raised in a placating gesture as he turned towards her. — Doll-

He began only to abruptly shut up, noticing the shocked look on her face as her gaze passed between them in a range of emotions.

— What the hell? — In contrast to the mercenary's wide smile, who moved his non-existant eyebrows in a suggestive gesture, reader's gaze darkened as she looked at Wolverine for a moment, causing him to frown in confusion and perceiving a strong scent of regret.

Determined to lighten the tension, Wade turned his face slightly towards Logan in a gesture of recognition.

— It's not the original. — He clarified, earning a raised eyebrow from both of them, which didn't affect him too much as he continued with his tirade of explanations. — Logan, this is Reader, a mutant with sadomasochistic powers who had an affair with your version of this world.

— I should have accepted that mission just to not hear you anymore…

The aforementioned hissed, glaring at him and avoiding the older mutant's scrutinizing gaze. Ignoring the mercenary's feigned expression of pain as he held his hand over his chest in an offended gesture, she leaned against the wall with her arms crossed.

— Doll, this is one of Logan's versions, darker, more broken, surely your type, oh god! You would have loved Calverine.

He spoke, clasping his hands over his chest in an enthusiastic gesture. With a snort, she turned around avoiding looking at the mutant behind the mercenary and determined to return to her apartment. — I don't think there's much of your stuff in the apartment, Al said something about taking advantage of the space now that you were gone.

She mocked, listening to his muffled gasp before closing the door with a shaky sigh.

(…)

— What the hell was that?

Logan's dry tone makes Wade laugh, now that they are at a safe distance from her enhanced hearing, the mercenary has no intention of letting the opportunity to mock her pass by.

— the what? The devilishly sexy neighbor downstairs with a destructive past who has her eye on you? You know, if you had the mask on I wouldn't doubt that-

— Christ, shut up. Why does she stink of guilt?

Wade smirks as he takes a step back dramatically. — When I joined the weapon X she was already there, working for the project's superiors along with poor Francis, together they were terror personified.

The nuance in his tone changes and his voice gains lightness as he thinks of those days when his powers were put to the test. — She can control the nervous system of people, animals and mutants. and, you know, make you feel a new world of pain. Oh and something about aphrodisiac fluids!

He speaks, winking before continuing: — The thing is that at some point Francis gained more importance, of course, not having nerves to control helped and she was left in the background and under his surveillance doing minor missions.

There's a look of understanding on Logan's face as his brain tries to process the information he's received and the words "sado-masochistic powers, and adventure" echo in his mind, raising more questions.

"That doesn't explain…"

He begins, frowning at the mercenary's suggestive expression. "Forget it."

He growled, wrinkling his nose as if he could still smell her scent full of guilt and shame.

(…)

Despite the initial shock, Reader had adapted to the mutant's presence quite easily, as she had occasionally crossed paths with him in the hallways of the building without sharing more than a few words. Which was fine with her, since she had no intention of crossing the cordial barrier either.

However, Wade Wilson had decided that it was a personal offense not to attend his resurrection dinner after having saved the world as the Marvel Jesus, so it was not until said party ended that the mercenary entered her apartment.

Rising from the bed abruptly when her ear caught a second beat, she wasted no time in grabbing the lamp that rested on the nightstand and throwing it in the direction of the mutant who grabbed it before it could break.

“That's no way to receive guests.” He scolded, dropping the lamp on the bed and turning on the light, letting both hands rest on his hips. “Traitorous bitch.”

He grumbled, watching as reader looked at him impassively. “Cry me a river.”

— You can't avoid it forever. Avoid me.

He emphasizes, smiling sideways when she rolls her eyes in his direction. — No one can avoid you.

She murmurs resignedly, getting out of bed now that the discomfort returns to her. — Look, I'll go to the next dinner…

— Tomorrow.

— What? No.

— Tomorrow, or I'll drag you out. Come on, we'll only be a few people.

— How are things with Vanessa?

The mercenary's menacing smile trembles and disappears with a withering look. — That, that was a low blow.

He reprimands her with the same tone he would use to reprimand a small child, earning a disdainful smile. — Looks like the two of us can't avoid it forever, huh.