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illyrianbitch · 5 months ago

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Plank You Very Much

Pairing: Reader x Cassian

Summary: Cassian gets roped into a Pilates class by you—and quickly realizes he’s in way over his head.

original request

Warnings: nothing tbh, cocky cassian being humbled, his fun lil internal thoughts

Word Count: 1.4k

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This was a horrible, stupid decision, Cassian realized.

He’d probably tell his kids about this someday, label it as one of his top twenty worst moments—and for the Lord of Bloodshed, that meant something.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been coaxed into something ridiculous. He wasn’t proud of that. But usually, those bad ideas involved Cassian yelling “I’m in.” before anyone could talk him out of it, not… this. Not kneeling on a yoga mat in a room that smelled like lavender and sweat, surrounded by people half his size who apparently had spines made of liquid steel.

The incense burning clung to the air, all flowery and relentless, tickling his nose in a way that made his nostrils flare with the urge to sneeze—an urge that hovered just out of reach, enough to drive him mad. Gods, he thought his allergies were bad in the Spring Court. This was worse. At least in the Spring Court, he wasn’t expected to twist himself into a pretzel while being assaulted by fragrant warfare.

He didn’t know what had possessed him to agree to this.

Well, okay, he did know. It was you.

With that damn mischievous smile and the way you’d batted your lashes at him, like you knew he wouldn’t say no. You’d done it on purpose.

“Oh yeah?”

Your voice had been as sweet as poison after he’d made a very ill-advised joke about Pilates not being “that serious.” All because you’d complained—just once—about being sore from a class. He’d grinned, all cocky charm, and drawled something like, “How hard can it be?”

He’d meant it as flirting, a way to make you laugh, but he should’ve known better. You and that damn spiteful streak.

“Come with me, then,” you’d said, tilting your head in that way you always did when you were trying to be convincing. “Unless, of course, you think it’s too hard for you, big guy.”

You might as well have stabbed him in his pride.

“We both know that’s not true.” Cassian had shot back, grinning like the cocky idiot he was. He’d even flexed a little as he’d said it, lounging against the counter with all the confidence in the world. “Bet I could do it no problem.”

Because Pilates? It didn’t even sound hard. A bunch of stretching, maybe some light balancing. Easyyy. He could do this in his sleep. He’d been fighting in wars since before most of these people were born, for Cauldron’s sake. His muscles were made of steel. His body was a weapon.

You’d grinned at him like a predator scenting blood, and he’d known, deep down, that he was screwed. “Alright,” you’d said, voice a little too sweet. “Tomorrow morning.”

He really needed you to spend less time with Mor and Azriel. Their sass and competitive streak had clearly rubbed off on you, and the result was downright dangerous. It was also, much to his frustration, ridiculously attractive. He fell for it every single time.

And now, every muscle in his body was actively trying to kill him. He was sure of it.

To make matters worse, he’d made yet another critical error at the start of class. Everyone else had grabbed the pastel three-pound weights that looked more like props than actual workout equipment. But Cassian had gone straight for the twenty-pound dumbbells.

“Really?” you’d said, your tone half amused, half incredulous.

“Three pounds are basically paperweights,” he’d replied, doing a quick curl with one arm to prove his point. The weights had felt fine then.

That didn't last long.

You'd even given him a knowing smile, one that probably should’ve warned him. But Cassian, in all his infinite wisdom and bravado, didn’t back down.

Halfway through the warm-up, his arms were trembling. Trembling. The weights that had felt so manageable had dragged his shoulders into a slow, humiliating burn.

Now, those same arms quivered as he attempted to hold the plank position for what felt like the fiftieth time in as many minutes. His shoulders burned, his thighs screamed, and sweat poured down his face in rivers. His hair was plastered to his forehead in a way that was more disgusting than it was ruggedly sexy. The surrounding mirrors of the room confirmed so.

“Engage your core!” the instructor chirped, her voice far too cheerful for someone overseeing torture. She walked by him like a predator looking for weaknesses, sparing him a sympathetic yet clearly entertained glance. She didn’t bother helping him.

He wasn’t sure where his core even was anymore. It might have abandoned him somewhere around the second round of something called “boat pose,” which had made his abs cramp in places he didn’t even know existed. He fucking hated boats.

“Hold that plank,” the instructor trilled. “Focus on your breath.”

Focus on his breath? Cassian was focused on not dying.

He grunted and grit his teeth. This was so stupid, he thought to himself. He was the General Commander of the Night Court. He led armies. He was built like a god.

So why the hell was he shaking like a newborn fawn?

Maybe this was some kind of humiliation ritual, a weird form of foreplay you enjoyed—watching your partners get broken down by this absurd torture you somehow found fun. Cassian had always suspected you were the freaky type. This could definitely be a sex thing, right?

“Doing okay over there?” Your voice drifted over from your mat, smug and far too amused. Cassian glanced at you—and immediately regretted it.

You were perfect. Every movement you made was controlled and precise, your form flawless as you transitioned into a side plank. Your leggings clung to every inch of your legs, your sports bra showing off the delicate curve of your back, and—Mother above, was that a bead of sweat sliding down your collarbone?

Cassian’s train of thought derailed so hard it might as well have exploded.

Which was exactly when his arm gave out.

He hit the mat with a loud, undignified thud, sprawled on his stomach like a dead fish. A chorus of muffled laughter erupted from the group of fae behind him, and he groaned into the mat. He couldn’t even bring himself to glare at them.

“Oh no,” you teased, resting on your side like you were lounging on a beach, not halfway through what had to be some kind of medieval punishment. “Looks like you fell.”

“This was a trap,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “Your revenge for something.”

You laughed, and Cassian couldn’t decide if he loved or hated the sound at the current moment. A mix of both, perhaps.

Who was he kidding? He wanted to bathe in it. The only thing more pathetic than his lack of Pilates skills was his infuriating crush on you.

“You walked right into it. I didn’t even have to try that hard.”

He lifted his head to glare at you, his face flushed from both exertion and embarrassment. “You’re evil.”

“And you’re cocky,” you shot back, grinning. “I figured this was the only way to get you to tone it down.”

Cassian flopped onto his back, chest heaving, and stared at the ceiling. His wings spread out beneath him, sticking awkwardly to the mat, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. “You’re lucky I like you,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Oh, I know.”

You stood up then, brushing off your leggings, and offered him a hand. He hesitated, narrowing his eyes, but finally took it. Big mistake.

You tugged him halfway up—just enough for him to feel a spark of hope—before letting go. He dropped back to the mat with another thud, the air leaving his lungs in a loud huff.

You were laughing again, and despite himself, Cassian felt the corners of his mouth twitch. “Okay,” he said, sitting up on his own this time. “You’ve had your fun.”

“Not yet.” You smirked. “We still have the second half of class.”

The second half. Cassian groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll never live this down.”

You crouched beside him, tilting your head. “Oh, don’t worry,” you said sweetly. “I’ll be gentle when I remind you of it. Probably.”

Cassian laughed, then, even as his entire body ached. “You’re the worst,” he said. But his voice was full of something softer than annoyance.

“And you’re stubborn,” you shot back, nudging him with your elbow. “It’s why I like you.”

For a moment, he forgot all about the embarrassment, the pain, and the endless torture of Pilates. For a moment, all he could see was you, smiling at him like he was the only person in the world.

And Cassian thought, then, that he’d endure this kind of hell a thousand times over if it meant another moment like this.

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authors note: im back baby!!! how is everyone doing? so so good i hope <3

pls send the best vibes and energy my way, i have sooo many wips i wanna jump into!! lemme know if theres anything specific y'all would like to see from me :)

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threeacttragedy · 2 months ago

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Entry 20: The One Where We Take a Course in Rear Window Ethics

Oh, hey, hey – you’re back!

Yes. I, uh – we need to – uh... What the hell are you doing with that Exakta VX camera fitted with a 400 mm Kilfitt lens?

Come here. See those open windows across the courtyard?

Uh, yeah…

Well, I’m trying to zoom into that apartment –

Wow. Because that’s not creepy as fuck.

Oh, don’t be so modern. This is New York City, 1954. It’s fine.

Yeah, okay. I need you to focus for a moment. Seriously – put down the zoom lens. Headquarters called and wanted to know why Dorothy was still in Oz. You know we were told to take her home.

No – actually we were told to throw stones at that wannabe Wizard. And we did. Kind of. Okay, whatever, but surely you can feel the shift. At the very least we’ve infiltrated the base camp with a bunch of flying monkeys. They’ll take care of the rest. God, there’s one in there –

And we were supposed to help Dorothy find her way back home.

Meh, don’t worry about Dorothy. I don’t think she’s ready to go home. Even after the ping-pong bullshit of the past few weeks, she’s still standing on her own two feet. Although Toto continues to be a mild pain…

But –

But nothing. Dorothy’s had the power to get her own ass home this entire time. When’s she’s ready, she’ll go.

Okay, well, obviously you’re not going to be of any help as you seem preoccupied with spying on your neighbors. So, I’m going to need to borrow the hot air balloon. Where’d you put it?

Oh, it’s on the—wait! If you take our balloon, how am I supposed to get around? I’m not staying here indefinitely. There’s no air conditioning in this damn apartment!

How about I promise to come back for you? Maybe.

Damn you. Fine, I’ll go with you. Let me get my shit together. Here, hold my camera – and don’t drop it!

Hmph, this is heavy. How does it work? I just look through this and… <points camera towards apartment across the way> Oh – this is interesting. What the hell did you say was going on over there? “…[S]tart from the beginning…Tell me everything you saw – and what you think it means.”

You know those days when you have no choice but to catch up on the work you’ve been blowing off for the past few days (maybe even weeks)? Well, last week, I was having one of those days. The work I’d been pushing down my list for weeks finally needed to be addressed. Regardless of how mind-numbing it was, it had to get done otherwise things were going to start going awry.

I’m one of those people who – when working on the mundane – has a mind that tends to wander every few minutes or so. I find myself Googling things like, “What is the fastest animal on the planet?” And, for your own Useless Knowledge, the cheetah’s land speed of 60+ mph doesn’t come close to the peregrine falcon’s dive bomb of 240+ mph.

Anyway, to keep my mind from wandering, I usually have something running in the background to force my brain into paying attention to two things at once – somehow that helps me maintain focus. The most popular “something” is almost always one of the many (quite possibly too many) British detective shows available for streaming. But, the other day, I simply wasn’t in the mood to rewatch Season 3 of “Dalgliesh” for the seventh time.

So, after a bit of scrolling, I put on an old movie I hadn’t seen in years: “Rear Window.”

The 1954 original, of course.

I’m rarely impressed by anything put out by Modern Hollywood, but the old shit – well, there are some legit classics out there, including this one.

One of the reasons I’ve always been fond of this movie is because you go into it knowing the “bad guy” right from the word “go.” I’m one of those extremely annoying people who can guess the villain within the first few chapters of a book, or within the first twenty or so minutes of a movie (like I said, I am rarely impressed by Hollywood). However, I will admit, one book did slip by me. Damn you, Agatha Christie. Honestly, though, the thrill I felt with being wrong was far more memorable than anything I’ve ever felt with being right. Good or bad, a surprise always leaves its imprint, doesn’t it? Plus, the hysterical elation my father must have felt – and later exhibited – knowing I was going into the final few chapters wrong – well, damn him, too. And, no, the book was not “Three Act Tragedy.” That one was quite easy.

Okay, enough about Ms. Christie. Back to Mr. Hitchcock.

As I sat busily typing away and listening to the dialogue of “Rear Window” playing in the far reaches of my office, it suddenly occurred to me that the parallels between “Rear Window” and the Lukola fandom were rather, well, thought-provoking. Here we have a man (and later his sidekicks) peering into the personal life of another human being. Our protagonist in “Rear Window” witnesses an event (a cover-up, actually) and sets out to prove it – all from the perspective of an onlooker looking in. Sound familiar? I thought it might.

So, welcome to your course on “Rear Window Ethics.”

Now, I cannot intertwine “Rear Window” with the Lukola fandom without dragging your ass into the story. Actually, I could – but it’s far more entertaining for me (and hopefully you) if I form a nexus between you and the movie.

Therefore, you, of course, get to align yourself with L.B. Jefferies (played in real life by Jimmy Stewart). If you’re still in this fandom, it’s because you’ve witnessed something you simply cannot ignore and you’re almost certainly hellbent on proving it at this point.

It’s very likely most of you entered the Lukola fandom alone. You watched some portion of the World Tour and became intrigued. Your mind began to wander, which sparked some urge in you to do some digging. Eventually your investigation led you to the Devil – sorry, I mean, social media. There you met like-minded junior investigators, and you’ve now found yourself chatting with these newfound friends and theorizing in the burrows of underground group chats.

So, about your sidekicks…

The part of “Stell-aaaaaa!!!!” (yes, that is my hat-tip to Jake) is given to your most “inventive” Lukola friend. You know, the one that has their own “theories” channel in your private chats; the one who scurries down the rabbit hole – not in search of the White Rabbit – but in search of the Cheshire Cat. Stella is the reason you think outside the box. In “Rear Window,” Stella (played by Thelma Ritter) is Jefferies’ nurse (Jefferies is injured and bound to his apartment; hence why he has so much free time to gaze out the rear window). This friend will throw anything and everything against the wall to see what sticks – even if it occasionally takes a deep-dive into how to cut up a body in a bathtub.

Next, we have Detective Doyle, Jefferies’ long-time friend (played by Wendell Corey). Doyle is quite possibly your spouse, haha, or anyone who side-eyes your involvement with this fandom. Doyle half listens to Jefferies’ theories and usually counters Jefferies with an alternative piece of evidence. But don’t fret, although Doyle teases Jefferies about his wild theories throughout the film, Doyle is, in fact, supportive of Jefferies and does comes around in the end.

I’m going to switch gears for a moment but not before acknowledging that, yes, I am aware I’m missing a player here. Don’t worry – she will arrive shortly.

Alright, on to our subject matter: Lars Thorwald.

Thorwald (played by Raymond Burr) is our straight-outta-Hitchcock-baddie who has been spotted by Jefferies trying to cover up the murder of his wife. The obvious parallels I’m going to draw between “Rear Window” and the Lukola fandom are (1) Thorwald’s crime being equivalent to the World Tour and everything that has happened thereafter, and (2) Jefferies’ obsession with proving Thorwald is guilty being comparable to the fandom’s obsession with proving Lukola is real.

Now, I’m going to get the ball rolling by fast-forwarding through the World Tour all the way up to where I last left you – the post-release of “Mis-Directed.” Recall that shortly before the book’s release, in a surprise turn of events, Luke appeared with Antonia at the Boss event held January 30. However, this was almost immediately negated by Luke snubbing Antonia post-event (and perhaps even more shockingly, Antonia’s mirrored lack of acknowledgement of Luke). And try as Nicola might, there’s no skirting around the innuendo made throughout that fan-fic of a book.

“Watson! Get up! There’s fuckery afoot!”

Who the hell are you?

I’m Dad. Who are you?

Ah, not that guy!

Yes, that guy. Of course, Dad has entered the room. After all I needed someone to fill the role of Lisa Fremont (also known as Grace Kelly). Lisa is your Lukola friend with the highest degree of common sense. She takes the “evidence” presented and looks at it with some realism. She is never going to take the Dwight Shrute Route and state something as “Fact,” but she is the one you rely on to delineate between what makes sense and what doesn’t. In short, this is your friend who understands human nature.

Alright, before I really get this ball rolling –

Since I’ve now added a third wheel (Dad) to the back-and-forth dialogue of my two wizard-chasing-balloon-riding-time-traveling-narrators, I suppose I should also give these two imbeciles names.

You first.

Uh, well, I’m Charley and that’s –

I’m Crowd.

Full credit for these two make-believe idiots is given to my dad. He created the personas of “Charley and the Crowd” for my two nieces a few years ago. They would show him their dolls and my dad would narrate what was going on in their stories. Of course, my nieces regularly corrected him with, “No, Papá, that is not what Barbie is doing!” Still, Charley and the Crowd stuck around, playing the role of two, usually counter-productive and sometimes ignored, news anchors at a Macy’s Day Parade-like event hosted by my nieces’ massive collection of L.O.L. Dolls.

And just for clarity’s sake, during the dialogue between Charley, Crowd, and Dad, actual statements made by Dad will be in quotations. Any statement not in quotations was added simply to move the story along.

Let’s begin (finally).

In “Rear Window,” every time Jefferies and his sidekicks present their findings to Detective Doyle attempting to prove Thorwald’s guilt, they are thwarted by evidence discovered by Doyle’s investigation. It’s a constant back-and-forth throughout the movie; however, regardless of how “solid” Doyle’s evidence is that Anna Thorwald is still alive, Jefferies remains sat on the hill that Thorwald killed his wife. It was this parallel – not the peeping Tom aspect of the movie – that piqued my interest last week. No matter what was thrown at him, Jefferies remained steadfast in his opinion Thorwald murdered his wife. Nothing budged him. I realized Jefferies’ level of resilience mirrored every diehard Lukola’s reaction to every piece of contradictory evidence thrown at them. Nothing budges them.

The tail-end of January and all of February was a bit wild in the Lukola fandom. I mean, there were a lot of narratives being thrown around only to be counteracted by another event. As I mentioned earlier, we ended January with the Boss event but that flame was quickly extinguished by Luke and Antonia’s complete lack of follow-up. Luke had the perfect opportunity to make it “official” with Antonia – to finally shut down the Lukola shippers – but he didn’t.

Crowd: Antonia not doing anything with it is the biggest tell, in my opinion.

I’m not going to spend much time rehashing the Boss event because I already discussed it in Entry 18 (link below), but I will touch on two things that I believe deserve an Honorable Mention.

The first being –

Charley: Why didn’t Antonia have her phone or even a handbag at the Boss event?

I mention this little detail because it was echoed at the BAFTA afterparty Luke attended with Antonia on February 16. In fact, I suspect this may be the modus operandi when Antonia attends an event with Luke – she is not given the opportunity to have a phone with her. One would think, at the very least, you would see Antonia entering and/or leaving an event with some kind of handbag or clutch. But we have pictures of Antonia entering both the Boss event and BAFTA afterparty without one. I will acknowledge we don’t see her leave these two events; however, if we rewind time, Antonia does not have a handbag with her during Papsmear.

Dad: “Well, that’s extremely odd.”

I don’t believe I’ve mentioned it before – at least not on this blog – that my dad has an eye for women’s fashion. My sisters and I grew up under his critical eye and, to this day, my father doesn’t know where he went wrong with my older sister. This is entirely why he was given the part of Lisa Fremont, the movie’s style icon in the form of Grace Kelly. The fact that Antonia is never seen with any type of handbag at these events sparked his interest.

Dad: “[It seems] they [at a minimum Luke] wanted complete control [of what Antonia could take away from the event]. No handbag. Nowhere to hide a phone. No rogue pictures floating about.”

Charley: Yes, it does seem that way.

The second event I wanted to mention was – although neither Luke nor Antonia liked the Boss grid post of the two of them entering that event together – Nicola did. Now, this wasn’t an immediate like. In fact, Nicola waited almost two weeks to like the post, on February 12.

Crowd: The day before Nicola went back and liked that post, that video was being dissected across social media.

Dad: Why?

Charley: Because it was suggested Luke said, “Let’s get this done,” as he walked inside the event with Antonia.

Dad: “I don’t hear shit.”

I will admit, when this video was initially sent to me, I didn’t hear anything except the background noise. However, when I was told what was allegedly being said, I was able to hear it. This very well could be the power of suggestion but the timing of Nicola’s like on this post is, at a minimum, noteworthy.

Once we leave the Boss event, we stumble right into “Mis-Directed.” I’ll post the links to my review of that book at the end. It is what it is – and it’s a whole lot of…umm, yeah…maybe Dad said it best.

Dad: “Either your Lukola thing is real, or Ireland is a psychopath.”

Crowd: Seriously, who let this guy in here?

I’m going to have to hard agree with my dad on this one. Not necessarily about Nicola being a “psychopath,” but the references made in the book are too on the nose for it not to be intentionally Lukola- and/or Polin-coded.

I’m also convinced this book was edited after the World Tour, with the most obvious example of this being demonstrated with the quote: “The dates here coincided with the time period of Leicester Square… Below the words was a symbol of a V-shaped flying dove. At first glimpse, it strongly resembled two raised fingers.” If our duo is to be believed, Luke and Nicola had no idea prior to the World Tour that the fandom would go wild over Colin’s fingers. But after the release of Part 1, any mention of “two raised fingers” would send the fandom into a feeding frenzy. And it’s such an extremely random bit of innuendo, I have trouble believing the author came up with it on her own.

Charley: When you think about it, if Antonia hadn’t shown up at the Boss event, the Lukola fandom would have taken the book as confirmation that Lukola was real.

Indeed, a hefty portion of the fandom would have done just that. The fandom was already convinced that Luke and Nicola spent the holidays together – even without direct evidence – because there was evidence that Luke and Nicola did not spend the holidays with Antonia and Jake, respectively.

Antonia appeared to be with family at Christmas and in the Maldives over New Year’s – without making even the slightest insinuation that Luke was with her.

Jake seemingly spent the holidays with Dylan B., as demonstrated by his pre-Christmas stories with Dylan in their (basically) adjacent hometowns – without Nicola, who, by her own account, was in Galway. Jake and Dylan’s Christmas stories were followed up with their jointly hosted New Year’s Eve party – at which Nicola was not present (as evidenced by Nicola’s comment to an attendee’s New Year’s Eve post: “Have the best night miss yous”).

Dad: “It is weird they [Nicola and Jake / Luke and Antonia] wouldn’t spend any of the holidays together. One? Sure, maybe. But all? No.”

But, even with that statement, my dad chose to play the role of Detective Doyle (a/k/a the Devil’s Advocate of “Rear Window”) regarding the holidays because –

Dad: “Misty [Antonia] was with her dance troupe. Jake was with his friends. Ireland was doing her thing. But no one knows where Thang [Luke] was. Everyone else has a trail except him, which is odd. He could have been with Ireland, but you can’t prove it, so what you have is not really evidence.”

Charley: Thanks, Dad.

But, let’s face it, my dad is right. There’s no solid evidence that Luke and Nicola spent their holidays with each other or anyone else. You can apply the same theory to the birthdays. The only “evidence” we have that two people did not spend a birthday together was Jake posting a belated birthday greeting to Nicola followed by Nicola posting what appeared to be an intimate birthday dinner for two, presumably from the night before. We can surmise Nicola’s birthday date was not Jake, otherwise he would not have posted the late greeting.

About Jake’s birthday –

Crowd: Oh, yeah, “hard launch No. 54” because Nicola used a red heart in her birthday story to him.

Charley: You mean the same one she used in a story for another friend just the other day?

Crowed: Yep.

Dad: “I don’t know what to say about those people [the Jakolas]. They need to resubmerge or something. There’s no relationship there [between Jake and Nicola].”

The Jakolas are banking this “hard launch” on the fact Nicola posted a birthday story for Jake, but not for Luke, and vice versa. These are the same people who will argue that Luke and Antonia not posting about each other’s birthdays is because they’re private – but, in the same breath, refuse to acknowledge Luke and Nicola may not post about each other’s birthdays because they’re private.

I believe it’s worth mentioning that no one from the Bridgerton cast except James Phoon posted about Nicola’s birthday on January 9. When Nicola acknowledged her birthday greetings the day after, she did not repost Phoon’s story nor did she repost fan-favorite JVN’s birthday story. And I should have placed bets on this next part – no one from the Bridgerton cast posted about Luke’s birthday on February 5. Surely, I’m not the only person who saw – and anticipated – the comraderie there.

What the Jakolas should have been focusing on with Jake’s birthday was the fact that it was Dylan and Becky’s boyfriend that were wearing matching “Jecky” shirts at their joint birthday party. No one else had that shirt except for the two people believed to be their significant others. Although I’m not fully convinced Jake is dating Dylan, I am one hundred percent convinced Jake would date Dylan over Nicola.

Charley: What’s next?

Crowd: God, there was so much shit going on in February! Uhh, let’s jump to Valentine’s Day. Nicola attended the IFTA’s with her mother and sister, and Luke attended a GQ dinner event alone.

This holiday follows in the same vein as the previously noted holidays, except it’s Nicola and (amazingly!) Luke that are both accounted for. Jake was presumed to be in Sheffield rehearsing for his play; and Antonia was nowhere to be found, not even at the GQ dinner.

However, Antonia does make a brief reappearance at a BAFTA afterparty alongside Luke on February 16.

Crowd: But it was a repeat of the Boss event. The next day, neither acknowledged the other.

Charley: And Luke was reported to have left the party after only an hour – without Antonia. He even posted a picture of himself getting into a car alone.

Dad: To me, “[i]t seems like Thang took his dog [Antonia] for a walk and left her at the dog park.”

Two days later, Luke – actually out for a walk – is papped getting coffee, alone. Is it horrible of me to say that the most exciting thing about these pictures was the untucked versus tucked shirt? I’m not even sure why I’m taking the time to mention this except I felt there would be some side-eye if I did not.

And to be honest, I’ve left out some details and minor events from the months of January and February because, if I were to add them, this post would be twice as long as it already is. For example, don’t get me started on sunburns, tan lines, and “sunny places.”

If we were in the movie, “Rear Window,” everything stated up until this point would run parallel to the back-and-forth between Detective Doyle and our Trio of Peeping Toms. Evidence is presented by the Trio, which is then countered by Doyle. Doyle’s evidence is dismissed by the Trio because, again, they’re hellbent on proving their case, so they continue theorizing and digging into Thorwald. All that leads up to the movie’s climax.

Charley: Have we finally made it to the SAG?

Crowd: Yes, yes, we have.

Charley: Dad – Dad – wake up!

Dad: Huh?

Alright, the fucking SAG awards. This would be about the point in “Rear Window” where Lisa gets caught by Thorwald rifling through his belongings in search of evidence. We’re in the audience biting our nails because Jefferies can’t do a damn thing to help Lisa except watch everything unfold. And that’s what we did with the SAG awards. The entire Lukola fandom was hyper-focused on Luke and Nicola – and they did not disappoint.

Forget all the drama we endured from the sideshow characters and the nonsense that came with them.

Forget Luke being AWOL for six months.

Forget everything except the “hug heard ‘round the world.”

The ice was broken; the champagne was flowing. Luke and Nicola’s joint SAG appearance was like the World Tour on steroids.

Dad: Can I say something?

Crowd: Fuck. What?

Dad: “It was their season, right? So, their joint appearance on the red carpet wasn’t earth shattering. Neither was them sitting together. It was their night to celebrate.”

Crowd: Who invited this wet blanket to the party?

Dad: I wasn’t done. “Their season has run its course, right? They’ve ‘graduated.’ So why are they the focus of mainstream media?”

Charley: <thinking> Because there’s something newsworthy there?

That is your climax. Not their SAG appearance – because everyone can have their own interpretation of Luke and Nicola’s behavior and those interviewers’ Q&A’s – it was the mainstream media going ga-ga over Luke and Nicola that sent the Lukola narrative tumbling out the window. If you’ve seen the movie, you’ll understand that reference.

By the following day, Luke and Nicola were everywhere. I genuinely appreciate the “Librarians” of the private group chats – those people who track and record every single post, story, like, non-like, follow, unfollow, literally everything – their job was grueling last week. The Sincerely Ignorant Lukolas who jumped ship months ago were frantically trying to climb back on board, while the Jakolas were desperately trying to find their Dramamine. The Defectors went silent except to remind their hive of hornets not to worry; that they will get “a reminder soon…”

Charley: A reminder of what?

Crowd: Oh, that there are two side characters floating about.

Well, lo and behold – right on schedule – a random picture of Luke and Antonia in an elevator surfaced the day after the SAG awards. The problem with the picture was that it was dismissed by Lukolas almost immediately. The account that dropped the picture on X was suspicious. Antonia’s hair and clothing seemed “so last year.” The Lukolas were far more focused on Luke and Nicola liking anything and everything to do with the SAG that day than to pay any attention to the “same old song and dance” about Antonia. Even Nicola liking Jake’s very bland “Nicola” comment on her grid post was dismissed with a “shooing” wave of the hand and an uninterested half laugh.

On February 25, the “insinuation” pictures were at it again. In fact, it was a rather busy day. An event host posted a picture of what appeared to be Antonia perfectly centered at an L.A. hotel pool. The story was reposted by the hotel itself. In fact, that’s the only reason the picture was found by the fandom. A new elevator picture of Luke and Antonia dropped; however, it, too, was dismissed fairly quickly, regardless of it being dropped by a different, less dubious X account. The Lukolas just didn’t give a fuck about Antonia. Luke was the subject of a blind that insinuated he had spent most of his time at the SAG looking in a mirror. And the evening was rounded out by something that would have rocked the boat in June 2024 but had little effect in February 2025 – Nicola followed Antonia on Instagram and vice versa!

Oh, shit – Jefferies just lost his grip and fell out the “Rear Window.” But he didn’t die! So, that’s a plus.

The following day, February 26, Antonia started to remove tags from her Instagram account including the “Soho” New Year's 2024 picture of Luke and his friend group, which included Antonia. And Nicola responded to the “mirror” blind about Luke with “I can confirm this is 100% not true [laughing/crying emoji].” So, interestingly, we had Antonia backing further away from Luke and Nicola stepping up to defend him.

Crowd: So, where do we go from here?

That’s a good question. The thing I’ve learned through this “course” is that the Lukolas are now unmoved by the shenanigans happening around them. You can serve Antonia to them on a silver platter, and they’ll flag down the waiter and ask them to return her to the kitchen. And you won’t find Jake anywhere on their menu (hence why I didn’t even bother to mention Jake’s play).

Dad: I think “the whole thing has run its course.”

It really has. The Lukolas are tired but unyielding. At this point, they just want their version of Thorwald to confess. The narratives running parallel to each other (i.e., Lukola vs. Jakola vs. Lutonia) can’t go on much longer. One of them is going to crack under the pressure.

Remember, “Three can keep a secret…”

P.S.

Dad: “Is Ireland still wearing that ring?”

Me: Yes.

Dad: “Then why did you call me?”

Me: <deep sigh>

#lukola #nicola coughlan #luke newton #my thoughts #my opinion #speculation only #my humor

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gojoidyll · 6 months ago

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blindsided pt 1

simon ghost riley x fem!reader

summary | you're blind and haven't realized that you were in the apocalypse. thankfully, some military men point that fact out to you.

original drabble

pt 2

Your alarm blared loudly causing you to groan and reach for it. You fumbled for a hot minute, but managed to hit the off button before sitting up. You were forever grateful that your mother set up your alarm for you since you didn’t have the eyes to do it yourself. Well, you had eyes, of course, you were just blind.

Yawning slightly, you moved so that you were sitting on the edge of your bed, your feet planted on the ground. And the moment you did that your could hear the faint pitter-patter of your beloved service dog, Bob.

Bob was a chill and quiet dog, only ever barked and pulled roughly at you when a car was speeding towards you. And Bob was smart. Too smart, in fact, cause he always growled and showed his teeth when someone would flip him the middle finger for shits and giggles. He didn’t like the disrespect.

“Do you know what today is?!”

You felt your dog jump, his front paws landing in your lap as he leaned in and licked your cheek.

“That’s right, buddy! Grocery store today!”

Bob jumped off of you as you stood up, your feet shuffling a bit as you reached for your trusty walking stick.

“Let’s get ready and beat the morning rush, yeah?”

You could feel Bob’s tail happily hit against you before he trotted off to the kitchen, you smiling as you followed after.

Your morning routine was simple. Hit your pinky toe a few times, hope to god the clothes you put on aren’t inside out or backwards, pop in some toast and maybe even indulge in some pancakes, while also being sure to feed Bob. Then, if you have to go somewhere, strap Bob into his harness, get your shoes and socks on and head on right out the door (while being sure to not forget your wallet in the process).

“I hope the store isn't ’t so bad,” you said as you locked your front door before turning to walk down your sidewalk, “and that the busses aren’t crowded…,” you shivered at the memory of having a bunch of snot nosed brats petting your service dog while also being forced to stand in the overcrowded vehicle.

And as soon as you reached the end of your driveway, you heard a large crash from the house in front of you, most likely Jerry knocking over his trashcan again. Ugh… Jerry. The man was annoying as hell, and a pervert.

Just because you were blind doesn’t mean you couldn’t feel his stare on you. It gave you the creeps!

“The hell?”

Stopping you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you from Jerry’s house, your lips immediately setting into a tight line. I swear, if he is going to try and touch me again-

The moment you felt his hands grab you, you tightened your grip on your walking stick/cane and swung it down hard on his ankle. You were surprised he didn’t let our a pained scream instead of a loud groan, but was satisfied when you heard him fall to the ground and let you go.

“Sorry about your ankle Jerry, but I did warn you about touching me and grabbing me like that. Put some ice on it, and, God, take a shower. You smell like a rotting corpse!”

Crinkling your nose, Bob got the message and started walking in the direction of the main street towards the doctor’s office. Unbeknownst to you though… Jerry had gotten up and started to hobble after you, albeit slowly. But you were already far away from him to notice or care. If he had something to say to you then it better be an apology. Other than that, you weren’t interested.

After a few more minutes of walking, your dog stopped causing you to smile.

“Finally made it to the bus stop.”

You released a sigh of relief as you stood there for a few minutes. Bob sat down next to your feet. And as you waited at the bus stop, you started to get antsy. Usually other people would start to wait with you, but it must be a slow day, or… you missed the bus. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.

Then your phone dinged, signaling you that you were going to be late for the bus if you didn’t get a move on. (Your mother helped you set up alarms for when the bus stops.)

“Darn it,” you muttered, “guess I missed the bus. Come on, Bob, let’s get going.”

Pulling the leash a bit, your dog got up and started walking again. And as you walked and got out the neighborhood and more into the city, you found that everywhere was more… trashy. It was weird. It was like you were walking over more things than you typically would.

You tried to ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach, something that Bob easily took notice of as he stopped so you could catch your breath. You don’t know what’s going on with you today. Was it just nerves?

Shaking your head, you fumbled a moment before finding Bob’s head and giving him a gentle pat between the ears, “let’s… let’s just go to the small gas station shop instead, yeah?”

Bob let out a quiet woof as he started walking again, presumably to the small little gas station instead of the grocery store. Your doctor always told you to take things easy if you felt something was off after all.

And after one more block, Bob stopped in front of the door to the gas station. It was odd that there weren’t any cars trying to fill up during the morning rush, but you decided not to think about it.

“Morning, tommy!”

Your voice rang out when you opened the door (after embarrassingly missing the handle a couple of times), but surprisingly Tommy didn’t answer. Instead, you heard a loud thump in the back.

He must be in the storage closet; you thought with a grin.

“Come on, Bob.”

You tugged gently on his harness as you went through the various shelves. Frowning every now and then when you felt how little the supply was with your cane, “what the-?”

You stopped for a moment, “Hey, Tommy! Where is everything? Did you forget to restock?”

You had called out to him again, but instead of an answer, you hear another loud thump and rolled your eyes.

“Let’s just find what we can, Bob.”

You managed to snag a bag of chips, some tampons, and even a few more extra snacks and two small bags of dog food. Bob would always woof once for good products or two times for no, put that back. You always wondered how Bob got so smart, but you were thankful, nonetheless.

Then, going to the counter, you didn’t bother to wait for Tommy as you went behind it and bagged your items yourself after ringing them up and getting exact change out of your wallet. Your bills and such were stamped with brail, so that way you could tell if you were handing someone a dollar or a twenty, deciding not to fiddle with the cash register, you placed twenty-five on the counter.

“Money’s by the cash register,” you called out but was only greeted with an even louder thump from the storage closet. Shrugging, you folded your cane and slipped it into one of the plastic bags and slung them over your shoulder while opening one of the chip bags you got.

Popping a chip in your mouth you tugged the harness with your free hand, “let’s go home, Bob.”

Bob let out a small woof and tugged you to the door.

“Man, these are some pretty good chips. Here, try some!”

You flicked a piece up in the air, and not a moment later did you hear Bob snap at it and crunch it between his teeth. You could feel how his tail wagged when being granted the chip. It made you grin.

Meanwhile, four men were on the other side of the street. All of them decked out in military gear.

“Not a single living person in this whole damn city!”

“Quiet, Soap.”

“But-“

As Soap was bickering with their Captain for the tenth time that day, Ghost found his mind wandering. A part of himself still unbelieving that this situation exists. Just a month ago he was on deployment. He didn’t expect to come back to this.

Though, his thoughts were soon interrupted when he glanced across the street towards the little mart, the door opening wide as a dog walked out first followed by some.. girl? Fucking hell.

He glanced towards Price who got the message, and looked to where Ghost had his sights on.

“Soap, you’re about to eat those words.”

Soap finally looking to where everyone else was including Gaz, brightened almost immediately at the sight of you.

“I’ll be damned,” he said as he raised his arm up to wave, “hey, you! Lass with the dog!”

Minding your own business, you didn’t expect to be called out to. Especially by someone with such a weird accent-

You turned, “uhhh- yeah?”

You tried to muster up a voice loud enough in hopes that they heard you.

“Ye blind lass? We’re over here!”

You couldn’t stop the heat of embarrassment cross over your features as you still couldn’t tell which way his voice was shouting at you from except from the fact that he was somewhere behind you.

“Actually,” you called back out, “I am!”

“You’re what?”

“I’m blind!”

There was a heavy silence that followed and thinking that you have successfully turned down someone catcalling you, you turned back in the direction of your home and motioned for Bob to move again.

“Hold up!”

You frowned when you felt this person grab your shoulder, the way his grip felt sending a jolt through your body momentarily. This guy was stronger than Jerry, your walking stick probably won’t even leave a bruise if you try to hit him. Not that you could, though, since you put your cane in one of your plastic bags.

Bob let out a small growl, you didn’t need eyes to see that his was raised into a mohawk.

“Listen, I’m just trying to get home. I’m not in the mood to get mugged or anything like that, and- and if you do try something my dog will bite.”

Wrong, Bob was sweet. Sure he growled at aggressive people but he wouldn’t hurt anyone. He was a service dog, and a violent service dog wasn’t a good one. (You begged to differ, especially in situations like these-)

“Soap, let her go.”

The grip on your shoulder quickly disappeared as soon a the new voice popped in. Ok, so there are two guys.

“Sorry to frighten you love, but seeing you out here just through us off guard was all.”

You scrunched your face up, “why? It’s natural to go outside, isn’t?”

You didn’t realize that they looked amongst each other until a new voice popped up, this one a bit rougher than the others, “do you know what is even going on around you?”

You furrowed your brow, “no?”

Three guys. Ok so there are three men-

“Love, it’s an apocalypse.”

Four men-

You shook your head at that, “the what now?! That’s- that’s impossible! I mean, just earlier I hit Jerry in the ankle-“

“You mean the zombie that’s slowly hobbling towards us?”

“Pervert Jerry is a zombie?!”

You wished that you stayed in bed this morning. Cause like, what the hell?!

#cod #call of duty #simon x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #cod zombies #call of duty zombies

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coqhee · 1 month ago

Text

﹙✧﹚ㅤㅤ TO THE MOON AND BACK, I LOVE YOU

ALT ✷ you never liked astronomy until you met han taesan, your crush since freshman year. in an attempt to get closer with him, why not drag along the boy that's been there all along? ∘ ∘ ∘ catalogue \ romance told

西村力 x f!r ―ㅤ fluffㅤ comedyㅤ &&ㅤ f2lㅤ ⨯ㅤ 3533

em's note ★ yay!! first romance: told fic out!! it only took this long!!! hope the anon who requested it enjoyed :3 btw I've never been to a planetarium lawl...

─── ♡

when you found out that your crush, han taesan, was taking astronomy for an elective in senior year, you immediately put that down instead of your originally planned “late arrival”. a free point five elective credit AND a chance to see your crush one last time? hell yeah. but then came the realization—you had no idea who else was in the class, and the last thing you wanted was to be stuck alone with a bunch of people you barely talked to.

so, naturally, you turned to nishimura riki. the weird boy that you had always been friends with since before you could even fathom.

“riki, please take astronomy with me,” you had begged, practically hanging off his arm.

“absolutely not,” he had deadpanned, barely looking up from his phone. “i’m not trading MY late arrival so you can go the tan haesan.”

“it’s han taesan, but whatever. don’t leave me alone.” you had whined, poking his shoulder. “what if everyone sucks? what if i end up next to some weird freshie who smells like expired milk?”

“then don’t take a class that would have freshmen in it?”

"but jungwon is taking it," you pointed out, as if that was all the reasoning he needed.

riki sighed, finally glancing up from his phone. “so? what does that have to do with me?” riki hates to admit it but he knew he would already be talking to his counselor the next day to swap out his cherished sleep period.

you huffed, dramatically slumping against his shoulder. “because I don’t want to suffer alone,” you mumbled. “i need my best friend with me.”

at that, riki stiffened for just a second before rolling his eyes. “you’re so annoying,” he muttered, but you caught the way his lips twitched—like he was already considering it.

“please?” you dragged out the word, gripping his sleeve and giving him the best pleading look you could manage.

“fine,” he grumbled, shoving his phone into his pocket

you beamed, throwing your arms around him in excitement. “i knew you loved me.”

“yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but his ears burned a little red.

he made it sound like a hassle, like you had dragged him into it against his will. but really, it wasn’t like he needed much convincing. if there was anyone he’d willingly lose his late arrival period for, it was you.

─── ♡

on the first day of the new year after summer break had ended, you walked into period 1 to see taesan already sitting in the middle row, scrolling through his phone. your heart did that stupid little flip it always did when you saw him, and for a split second, you forgot riki was even behind you.

“oh my god, you’re so obvious,” riki muttered, elbowing you in the side as he followed your line of sight.

“shut up,” you hissed, shoving him back before making your way toward an empty seat behind where taesan was sitting.

before you and riki could bicker further like you always did, class started to your dismay and it was finally starting to settle in that the two of you were in for a class, neither of you cared about.

riki let out an exaggerated sigh as he slumped in his seat. “this is your fault,” he whispered, tapping his pencil mindlessly against the desk. “we could be in bed right now.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “oh please, you would’ve just spent that extra hour playing video games.”

“exactly,” he grumbled. “prime gaming time, wasted on stars.”

before you could retort, the teacher started going over the syllabus, droning on about assignments, projects, and participation. you tried to pay attention, but your gaze kept flickering to the back of taesan’s head, watching the way he absentmindedly spun his pen between his fingers.

riki caught you staring and groaned. “this is painful to watch.”

“then don’t watch,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

he gave you a deadpan look. “i have to. it’s like witnessing a car crash in slow motion.”

you stifled a laugh, “shut up and take notes.” shoving his hand back to his paper, away from doodling on your fresh blue, 70 page, college rule notebook.

“uh huh”

you shook your head, turning your attention back to the front just in time to hear the teacher announcing partner assignments for the semester-long project.

“please let me be with riki,” you whispered under your breath, fingers crossed beneath the desk.

riki hummed in agreement. “i swear if i end up with some guy who doesn’t know the difference between a planet and a star, i’m dropping this class.”

but, of course, fate had other plans.

“y/n l/n and han taesan.”

your stomach flipped. riki turned to you slowly, horror written all over his face.

“no way,” he whispered.

but there was no taking it back now. taesan turned slightly in his seat, a small smile tugging at his lips. “guess we’re partners,” he said, voice smooth and easygoing.

“yeah,” you breathed, hoping you sounded normal and not like your brain had short-circuited.

riki gagged dramatically beside you.

“nishimura riki… you’ll be working with…oh, looks like we have an odd number, you can join y/n and taesan,” the teacher called.

riki perked up instantly, all traces of his previous horror vanishing. “oh, sick,” he muttered under his breath, shooting you a victorious smirk.

you, on the other hand, were caught between relief and something dangerously close to disappointment. you weren’t even sure why—you wanted riki to be your partner, didn’t you? but now, instead of getting to work one-on-one with taesan, riki was right there in the middle, like a human buffer.

taesan didn’t seem fazed, though. he turned back to you both with a nod. “works for me.”

riki leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “yeah, totally. wouldn’t want my best friend suffering alone.”

you elbowed him under the desk.

the teacher moved on, and taesan shifted slightly to face you. “do you guys wanna meet after school to start planning?”

“sure,” you answered at the same time riki groaned.

the rest of class went by in a blur, the lecture on introductory astronomy terms barely registering in your brain. every so often, your gaze would flicker to taesan, watching the way he twirled his pen, the way his lips pursed ever so slightly when he was concentrating. it wasn’t fair how effortlessly cool he looked doing the most mundane things.

“you’re doing it again,” riki muttered beside you, barely moving his lips.

“doing what?” you whispered back, eyes still locked on the front of the classroom.

“staring at him like he hung the stars in the sky.”

─── ♡

riki had been enduring your hopeless crush on han taesan for seven full days now, and, frankly, he was over it.

“you know, i really just don’t get what you like so much about him. he’s just a guy,” riki muttered, barely dodging the kick you sent his way from across the library table.

“oh my god, shut up,” you whispered harshly, glancing around to make sure no one had overheard. “and just a guy? you make it sound like i’m drooling over some random dude.”

riki raised an eyebrow. “you are drooling over some random dude.”

you ignored him, instead recalling your advances towards taesan, convincing yourself that it was going just great.

on the second day of class, and you had strategically chosen to sit beside taesan instead of riki, much to the latter’s dismay. you figured starting small was the way to go—nothing too forward, just a simple, friendly compliment.

“i like your hoodie,” you had said, giving him what you hoped was a casual but cute smile.

taesan barely glanced up from his laptop. “thanks, my mom got it for me.”

…that was it. no follow-up, no return compliment, no you’d look good in one too—nothing. you had expected something to work with, but instead, he had gone right back to typing like you hadn’t even spoken.

gosh, it was like he wasn’t even interested in you.

on the fourth day of class when you figured you were going to make another attempt to talk to him.

“oh, i saw that you listened to understand by keshi on your story” you had mentioned casually as you slid into your seat beside him. “such a good song.”

taesan had nodded. “oh yeah, it’s good.”

you had stared at him for a moment, waiting for anything more, before finally just pulling out your own notebook in defeat.

and of course, riki, from his seat across the room, had been watching the entire thing unfold, shaking his head in barely concealed amusement. riki had been patient—far more patient than he normally was—but after an entire week of watching you fumble through failed attempts at flirting, he had reached his limit.

"alright," he announced, slamming his notebook shut. "i can’t take this anymore."

you blinked at him, caught off guard. "what?"

"this," he gestured wildly between you and the table, "this pathetic, one-sided crush. you’re driving me insane."

you scowled. "wow, thanks for the support, best friend."

he ignored you, leaning forward with an exasperated sigh. "look, it’s not happening. you’ve tried, like, four different approaches, and taesan has given you nothing to work with. it’s time to move on."

"i can’t just move on," you grumbled, crossing your arms. "it’s not that simple."

"oh, it’s that simple," riki countered, standing up and grabbing his bag. "and you know what? i’m gonna help you."

you eyed him warily. "help me how?"

he smirked. "by showing you what it’s like to actually have fun with someone who does pay attention to you. plus i already bought tickets to the studio ghibli movie fest for tonight and the rest of next week, so you’re going.”

“you’re joking,” you gasped with excitement, jumping up and down, loud enough for the two of you to get kicked out of the library. but who cares when you could go see ponyo tonight, howls moving castle tomorrow and every other ghibli movie for the rest of the week.

he shook his head with that familiar, comforting smile, "this is already more fun than whatever you thought you had going on with taesan," he said, nudging your temple with his knuckles.

you sighed, leaning into his side for a moment. "yeah," you admitted, and for the first time in a week, you actually believed it.

─── ♡

throughout the week, you still found yourself looking for taesan, but not nearly as much as you used to.

by the third night of the ghibli fest, you had almost forgotten why you had been so fixated on han taesan in the first place. between sneaking in your own snacks, debating over which ghibli protagonist had the best character arc, and riki dramatically reenacting scenes on the way home, your mind was too occupied to obsess over every little interaction with taesan.

but that didn’t mean you never looked for him.

in class, your eyes still wandered toward his seat before you could stop yourself, scanning for any hint that maybe he had started to notice you back. but taesan was always the same—calm, polite, distant.

“you’re doing it again,” riki muttered under his breath, flipping his pen between his fingers.

“doing what?” you asked, even though you knew exactly what.

you shot him a glare. “i’m not staring.”

riki gave you a pointed look.

“…i was just glancing,” you clarified, sinking into your seat.

he snorted. “whatever helps you sleep at night.”

but the thing was, riki was right.

taesan was never rude—if anything, he was nice in that effortless, detached way that made it impossible to tell whether he actually cared about your presence or was just being polite. he answered your questions, acknowledged your comments, but never extended the conversation past necessity.

and after a week of being around riki—who never once let a moment fall flat, who filled every second with banter, laughter, and the kind of easygoing energy that made everything feel lighter—you were starting to realize just how dull it was trying to get taesan’s attention.

“hey,” riki nudged your arm, bringing you back to the present. “movie’s at seven tonight. spirited away. we’re going, no excuses.”

you sighed, but you couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “yeah, okay.”

maybe looking for taesan wasn’t worth it anymore.

on the final night of the ghibli fest, you and riki found yourselves in your usual seats—middle row, slightly to the left, close enough to the screen without being too close. you had gotten used to this routine by now: sneaking in snacks, arguing over who got to hold the drinks, riki making dramatic commentary under his breath just to annoy you.

but something about tonight felt different.

it could’ve been the way that he already had bought your entire movie theater snack order before you even arrived, the way your heart skipped when he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "if this movie makes you cry like you always do, i won’t judge,”

“i never cry at movies,” you shot back, ignoring the way your face felt weirdly warm.

“uh-huh,” riki smirked. “that’s what you said during my neighbor totoro, and yet—”

“i had something in my eye,” you interrupted quickly, shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth to avoid further discussion.

it felt like it could’ve been normal, but the air between the two of you had shifted, and part of you didn’t want to jump to a conclusion or even admit that it had shifted to begin with by any means.

he just chuckled, settling back into his seat. but his arm stayed where it was, fingers still lightly tapping against your shoulder. while you should’ve been focused on the movie, every fiber of you wasn’t. instead you were focused riki, taking a second longer glance everytime the two of you leaned over to make some dumb and stupid comment.

when the movie was over and riki had teased you for how you cried once again, you rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag and following him out into the cool night air. but as you walked side by side down the quiet street, the warmth of his arm against yours lingering like an unspoken thought, you couldn’t help but wonder—

when did everything start feeling like this?

since when did your heart start beating so fast, pumping so much blood it felt exhilarating just being around riki.

you didn’t know when it started.

you just knew that it had.

─── ♡

the next day in class, you found yourself sliding back to the seat next to riki as usual, all of a sudden not finding the back of taesan’s head that interesting.

you were doodling on your page listening to your teacher explain the moon’s orbit in relation to earth, then somehow get onto a tangent about the moon’s symbolization in cultures.

before you could zone out completely, the teacher clapped their hands together, bringing the class to attention.

“alright, everyone! before we continue, i have an announcement—next friday, we’ll be taking a class field trip to the planetarium.”

your head perked up at that.

“you’ll need to complete a small assignment while we’re there,” the teacher added over the mix of groans and excited whispers. “but other than that, you’ll have plenty of time to explore.”

immediately, you turned to riki, already knowing he’d be your partner. he was grinning, kicking your foot under the desk. “guess that means we get a free pass to mess around.”

“or,” you corrected, “we could actually pay attention.”

he snorted. “we both know that’s not happening.”

you just rolled your eyes, shifting back in your seat as the teacher dimmed the lights to play a video about the moon’s phases.

a few minutes in, riki nudged your elbow. when you glanced over, he was pointing at his notebook, where he’d drawn a very questionable-looking moon with a lopsided smile.

you bit back a laugh. “what is that?”

“the moon,” he whispered, as if it were obvious. “but, like, happier.”

you shook your head, flipping to a new page in your notebook. with a few quick strokes, you sketched out your own version—a smoother crescent with little stars around it. riki peeked at it and scoffed. “show-off.”

you grinned, flipping your pencil in your fingers. “you’re just mad mine looks better.”

“whatever,” he muttered, turning his attention back to the video—but not before sneaking one last glance at your drawing.

toward the end of class, as you were packing up, taesan passed by and nodded toward your desk. “what were you two so focused on?”

before you could answer, riki shoved his notebook under his arm, grinning. “just academic excellence.”

you snorted, and taesan just gave a small, amused nod before heading out. once he was gone, you turned to riki with a knowing look.

“academic excellence?”

“obviously,” he said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “what else would it be?”

you just laughed, shaking your head as you fell into step beside him.

─── ♡

the planetarium was dim, lit mostly by the soft glow of the exhibit lights, casting shadows across riki’s face as he stood beside you. the hum of other students echoed faintly in the background, but you hardly noticed.

the two of you took your seats underneath the large screen and gazed up into the above, admiring the way the stars swirled in the galaxy.

just how small the two of you were in the giant universe, yet here this moment existed for just the two of you to remember.

you smiled softly to yourself. there was something comforting about it all. something warm and endless and beautiful.

but you didn’t notice the way riki never looked up.

while you sat there, eyes wide with wonder, his gaze never left you. not even for a second.

he watched the way your lips parted just slightly in awe, the way your eyes shone under the artificial starlight. how still you became when you were lost in something you loved. and maybe it was dramatic—maybe it was just the darkness, or the quiet, or the closeness—but in that moment, you looked more magical than any of the stars above.

“the earth and the moon: an eternal dance. though nearly 400,000 kilometers apart, the moon’s pull shapes the tides of the earth. it never strays far, always orbiting—faithful, constant. even in darkness, it reflects light. it stays.” the narration continued on,.

you smiled faintly and pointed up. next to you, riki followed your gaze, then tilted his head.

“sounds kind of dramatic,” he murmured, nudging your elbow. “like some tragic love story.”

you continued looking at the spherical projected figure, amused. “i think it’s kind of sweet. the moon never leaves.”

riki hummed in response. then, so quietly you almost missed it, he said, “i’d stay, too.”

your breath caught in your throat.

you tried to play it off with a gentle nudge to his side. “stop being weird.”

you finally looked down, ready to say something about the way the moon was just so pretty.

riki was already looking at you.

and he wasn’t embarrassed about it. he didn’t look away, didn’t pretend to be interested in the show you’d both come to see.

his eyes were soft, unblinking. like you were the one he had come for.

“you’re not even watching,” you whispered, voice shaky, heart louder than it should’ve been.

riki tilted his head, lips curving into the smallest smile.

“i am,” he said quietly. “just not the stars. or the moon for that matter.”

you froze, breath caught somewhere between your chest and your throat. he didn’t look away. not even for a second.

“you know,” riki continued, voice just low enough for only you to hear, “if the moon really is 400,000 kilometers away, i think i love you to the moon and back,”

“riki…” you whispered, unsure what you meant to say next. you felt breathless, like the words were still catching up to the moment.

but he only leaned back slightly in his seat, his shoulder brushing yours. “you don’t have to say anything,” he said, softer now. “i just… i wanted you to know.”

your fingers twisted in your lap, eyes flickering back up to the stars for just a second, like they might tell you what to do next. they didn’t. they just kept spinning silently across the domed ceiling, beautiful and endless.

you turned to him again. “i think,” you said slowly, “that maybe… maybe i’ve been looking in the wrong direction.”

he looked at you then—not surprised, but quietly hopeful. like he’d been waiting for you to realize it.

“yeah?” he asked, voice steady but a little too careful.

you nodded. “yeah.”

suddenly, the stars or the moon weren’t the brightest thing in the room anymore.

and somewhere above you, the moon kept orbiting the earth. steady. constant. never fully leaving the planet’s side.

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corkinavoid · 10 months ago

Text

DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt.3)

JL very soon finds out there's no reasoning or controlling this particular brand of crazy. Amity, as they like to call themselves - 'Because saying Interdimensional Law Enforcement every time is long and ILE is boring', Dani explains to them - do whatever they want and deem necessary, and no one can stop them.

They have bargained with the US government to let their whole town stay for a week in Illinois like one would ask to stay in a hotel room. They have all but swiped all the tech shops in the nearby area, and somehow, they had real, actual money to pay for it, despite not even originating from this dimension. They claimed it was due to the Ghost - or God, the opinions were mixed - of Time making it work. They visited a bunch of people. Heroes, that was.

One memorable visit was one they paid to Flashes. Vlad, the mayor of Amity Park and unofficial leader of ILE, and Tucker, a kid with an insane knowledge on all and every kind of tech, performed a whole lecture to Flash family as well as their friends and colleagues, on importance of safety while time-traveling, the best ways to fix the timelines and even on upgrades to their costumes.

The other important visit was the one they paid to Diana, although that one was not so climactic - Jazz just gave her a bunch of letters and a card with a summoning sigil on it. 'It's for Pandora, she enjoys having a cup of tea with Themyskirians,' the redhead claimed.

Now, it was Batman's turn, it seems.

Danny was standing - more like floating - in front of Red Hood. They were at the Watchtower since Batman did not like Amity coming to Gotham. In his opinion, that would be just calling for trouble, and both Valerie - head of ILE security - and the records of other Batmans said he was not wrong.

"Yeah, this one's fucked up," Danny says after almost three minutes of looking straight at Hood, and the man huffs:

"Thanks, I got that part," he throws back, but Danny just laughs softly.

"No, sorry, I didn't mean it as you personally. Just, like, compared to the other Red Hoods I've met. At least you're not fucked up beyond reason, I can still help you," the ghost boy says cheerfully and claps his hands, "Ready to get rid of the boiling rage in your veins?"

And, before either Hood or Batman can say anything, he reaches his hands inside Jason, and the man tenses up, holding his breath. Batman hovers close - he's read about the same kind of procedure being performed by Danny on other versions of Jason in the files, but reading about it and witnessing it is two entirely different things.

Danny's hands start turning green. The same thing he did with the portal before happens again: glowing, Lazarus green flows up his hands, like veins outside his skin. Only this time, it's not as bright as the portal was. It's murky and dull.

A few seconds later, Danny slowly takes his hands out of Red Hood's chest, and Bruce is really glad he was standing so close because Jason all but falls down to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Batman holds him by the shoulder, keeping him up, but Danny shakes his head:

"No, he better sit down. He's probably gonna feel lightheaded for a few minutes. Oh, and catch," he throws something to Batman, which he catches on reflex. It's a weird, jello-like substance of dark, dirty green color, almost like a stress ball.

"What is it?" He asks, and Danny grins:

"A souvenir. That's his Pit Rage," he nods to Red Hood.

"My what?!" Jason snaps his head to the ball in Batman's hands.

"The parts that made it actual Rage. Think, like, an infection, or a parasite, or just- You know what, it's what you get when some crazy asshole bathes you in ghost sewers," Danny shrugs, completely disregarding the face expressions Batman and Red Hood are giving him. "Speaking of which, do you wanna come with us when we get rid of those Lazarus Pits of yours?"

There's a bit of silence, before Red Hood breathes out:

"Hell, yes."

-------------------------

I'll be writing another part with Amity getting rid of Ra's and Lazarus Pits, yeah. In the meantime, Sam is looking for Constantine to give him a slap on the hand because all the John Constantine's pieces of soul were like a massive jigsaw puzzle to her, considering there's more than one John Constantine and all of them can't stop selling their fucking souls even for a minute and Sam is so done.

Tucker and Tim are nerding out in WE with no sleep or food, Damian gets to play with Cujo, Kon is discussing clones' trials and tribulations with Dani, Jazz is giving Supes a long overdue lecture on how to treat clones, Dan is looking for someone to fight - so far he's found Captain Marvel but he knows he is just a kid so instead of actual fighting they are playing Mario Cart - Val is having fun with Arrows because sharp shooters gotta stick together, and Vlad had abandoned all of his responsibilities and is hiding in Lex Luthor's penthouse, discussing cat breeds and how annoying heroes can be.

Paulina made her way into Gotham without anyone noticing and befriended Harley and Sirens, so Batman may or may not find a particular clown dead when he comes back to his city. Dash is actually not up for trouble, so he is on duty in Amity Park, doing tours for all the curious people who got interested in ghost town and decided to visit. GIW agents are in the process of locating all the Pits, Maddie is elbow deep in a scientific discussion with Martian Manhunter, Jack is upgrading the Amity Ship with all the new tech he's got, and Cyborg is keeping watch on him.

Did I forget anyone? I most likely did.

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