#even if I don’t get it I can respect it and now I know more about other people’s experiences

[reignpage]

Frat Boy!Gojo

Cosmopolitan: sober thoughts

Word Count: 6.1k Contents: their first date, cursing, a little angsty, but mostly fluffy, not proofread (barely skimmed this so again, dunno how much sense it makes)

“Before you get any bright ideas, just know I’m sharing my location with at least ten people.”

Whistling, the biggest pain in your ass saunters over to you

The moon is full, a big white orb that would otherwise bring you a lot of peace to look at but right now, only pisses you off for reasons you’d rather not spend too much time pondering. Rarely anyone comes around these parts; it’s at the very edge of the city, a half-hour drive from campus, and surrounded by miles of dull, old suburbia. You’re standing in front of a metal gate, slightly taller than you, with vines wrapping around the pickets. It swings slowly with every gust of wind, creaking before it meets the stone wall with a bang.

Gojo grimaces. 

“Seriously, did you have to choose the scariest place in all of Eden? I mean, I respect the commitment to the aesthetic, but this is just crazy,” he grumbles, eyeing the cathedral from its huge marble pillars to the sharp spires piercing the night sky. 

You roll your eyes. Trust him to leave the date planning to you just to complain every step of the way. You’re already regretting playing along with whatever games he’s conjured up this time, but at least you’ve got home turf advantage; you know this place like the back of your hand. There won’t be any surprises happening tonight. 

Without replying, you walk off, heading straight through the gate. 

“Hey, wait! Don’t leave me here. I don’t want to end up as a statistic.”

Shrugging, you say, “If you’re scared, you can go back home.”

When he doesn’t say a thing and follows you, you smile. You win. But that feeling of victory doesn’t last very long because then he starts muttering about the cobwebs and how they’re everywhere, then about the tombstones, how they’re so messy with moss covering the engravings and that ‘the spirits must definitely be like so mad about all that’, and when you don’t respond to any of his musings, he even complains about the eerie music foreshadowing his pending doom, like in Jaws.

There is no music. 

“Where are we even going?” He pokes your shoulder, snatching his hand back faster than you can swat at it. “I thought we were going to, I don’t know, have a picnic under the stars and cuddle on top of someone’s grave, like Mary Shelley did.”

“How the fuck do you even know about that?” 

Gojo lifts one shoulder. “Must have heard it online or something.”

You roll your eyes again — you have a feeling you’ll be doing a lot of that tonight, maybe even for the rest of your life if things go the way your parents plan. When you had first found out the village idiot is the president of the most sought-after fraternity of the most prestigious university in the country, you thought maybe no one else had stepped up. But then you found out he’s a Legacy --the Gojos have governed that fraternity since its conception -- and well, the pieces fell into place. 

Mischief no doubt sparkling in your eyes, you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes are full of suspicion and when they meet yours, he becomes even more doubtful of your intentions. With a grin, you whisper, “We’re going someplace no one will hear you scream.”

“Kinky.”           

That didn’t have the desired effect. How annoying. Though you don’t fail to notice how he moves in closer to you, his warmth radiating to your body through your black, fur cloak. You don’t shift away. 

Gesturing for him to follow you through a gap in a wooden fence, you squeeze through to avoid splinters, pulling at your dress when a piece of lace catches on a nail. Just as you’re about to offer advice on how to contort his body to get through, he climbs over the fence and lands on his feet without stumbling, all in one quick sweep, like he’s who wanders these hallowed grounds at night and not you. 

“What?” He asks when he spots your glare. 

Not even those stupid sunglasses are out of place. Very annoying, indeed. 

“Come quickly,” you bark, fixing your silk gloves to cover more of your skin as the chill settles in. It’s only six in the evening, and yet there’s no hint of light in the broad expanse above you, just the moon and the stars lighting your way, and occasionally your companion’s phone flashlight when he needs to look at what he’s stepped in. 

He laughs. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

“Do you make it a habit to talk about your sex life with a girl on a first date?”

“You’re the first, so not a habit. Not yet anyways.” 

Screeching to a halt, your hand clutches his elbow to still him. Your jaw is slack and you’re staring, completely disbelieving. “There’s no way this is your first date. You took that girl to the casino.”

Gojo stares off into the distance as he ponders the notion, fingers tapping his chin. Then, he insists, “No, it really is my first date. And anyways, I don’t consider that night a date; she pretty much invited herself along. It was more like I was just taking her to the casino as her escort. Or maybe that does count as a date. If so, then I’ve been on a lot of dates. But none where I’ve actually used the word date. Does that even matter because —“ 

You wave a hand in front of his face to cut off his rambling; he talks way too much. “So, you’re telling me, I’m the first girl you’ve ever asked out on a date? That’s insane, Gojo. You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he protests with a frown.

“You sure acted like you did for months,” you counter. 

He insists, “I don’t hate you. Never did. I just acted out but yeah, I’m sorry. I was a dick.”

Clearing your throat, you straighten up and continue walking. “It’s fine. Water under the bridge.” 

“You sure? ‘Cause I can get on my knees and beg.”

“Don’t tempt me, Gojo.”

He catches up to you and hums a playful tune, his light mood returning; Serious Gojo is gone like he never existed. “Guess that’s what you’re into, huh?”

“You’ll never know,” you snort, pushing a branch away from your face and letting it snap back into his chest, he yelps.

His hand reaches past you, lifting a thicker branch high above the both of you, before leaning close to your ear and whispering conspiratorially, “We’ll see.”

Disregarding the shiver than runs through you, you push on, moving almost on muscle memory alone. Your mind is attempting to distract itself by scanning the area, being careful not to be caught on church grounds after hours, pushing through the woodland to get to the clearing tucked away at the very back, where you go for peace and quiet. 

Truthfully, you have no idea why you decided to have this date here, of all places. This place is sacred. Literally but also figuratively — this is the place you always ran to when the world got a little too loud, a little too busy and bright for you. No one else knows about this haven as far as you’re aware and you always thought you’d do anything to keep it that way. And yet, you’re showing it to him. Actually, guiding him to the place. 

You should have at least blindfolded him so he couldn’t memorise the way. 

Maybe you wanted to spite him by living up to his expectations and being the gothic monster that he thinks you are -- you want to scare him off before he lets his curiosity take him too close to something that might scald him. He needs to be afraid of you. 

Or maybe you recognised that shadow in his eyes, the ones that suggests he’s lost as much sleep about this whole farce as you and thought he could do with a little silence. 

You both arrive at a thick bush, a massive wall of a shrub towering over even Gojo. Behind you, the cathedral is only a blob, lit up by lanterns, whereas you’re both submerged in darkness; there are no streetlamps here. 

“I’m totally going to be murdered here, aren’t I?” He whistles as if to say, ‘it’s been a good life, and I’ll have to just accept my fate’. 

“Yeah, I was lying when I said it was all water under the bridge. I’ve actually been colluding with the devil to sacrifice your white ass.”

Gojo laughs.

He laughs a lot, but rarely like this, you note. He chuckles when his friends do something stupid like push him into the fountain, and he snorts when he reads the most recent article on The Bulletin. But you’ve never really seen him throw his head back and clutch his stomach, at least not with anyone but you. He does it when you get caught texting him under the dinner table, when you give him the middle finger from across the Quad, and that one time you bumped into him in the hallway and almost apologised before you realised it was him.

It’s the kind of laugh that’s infectious, and you hoped every time he does it that you’re somehow immune. However, when he looks at you with a brightening sparkle in his eyes, you realise you’re very much not. 

You clear your throat again. 

“Through here, is a very special place. You must swear you will not desecrate this place, lest the Mother Crone curse you for your treachery,” you announce, wiggling your fingers at him for extra flair. 

Placing a hand on his heart, he stomps his foot like a soldier and swears, “I would never. I will take this secret to the grave.”

Satisfied, you grab the loose part of the hedge wall and pull it aside to reveal the little doorway to your secret hideout. He throws you a side glance before he ducks down and enters. You follow behind him, tucking the disguised door behind you. 

He doesn’t say a thing as you zoom to the side where you grope for something in the grass, right under part of the hedge. When you feel the smooth, cold plastic, you don’t hesitate to switch it on. 

Long wires of fairy lights light up, bulb by bulb, along the top of the hedge and down, like a really wide Christmas tree circling the hidden clearing. You hear him mutter a ‘woah’ under his breath as he scans the area — there’s only one thing here on the flat ground, it’s also lit up fairy lights along the top pole. It’s your most prized possession.

“You have a swing?” He shouts incredulously. Giggling like a child, he makes a run for it, jumping onto one of the two seats where he rocks back and forth on his feet. Then he’s whooping as he swings higher and higher, hair whooshing back and forth as he grins, taking in the cold autumnal air and the growing warmth of the lights. “This is freaking awesome!”

Sitting on the spare seat, you kick your feet gently so you can swing a little. Deep down there was a worry festering within, anxious that he would find this place boring, that he’d scoff at your idea of fun especially on a first date, but looking up at him, still hollering and grinning, you think, that was such a silly thought. 

Gojo slows to a mild back and forth momentum and wonders, “Are you sure I’m allowed to be here? This place seems pretty private, like your own mancave or something. Do girls have a version of a mancave? ‘Womancave?”

In the corner of your eye, you see him clamber down to sit as you answer his question. “I wouldn’t have taken you here if you weren’t allowed, dumbass.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still not convinced this isn’t an elaborate scheme to murder me and hide my body in a grave.”

“Neither.” You shrug. 

He laughs. 

Eventually, you both swing side by side, alternating up and then down. The wind is howling a little, rustling the trees surrounding you and the moon’s obscured by dark cloud. Neither you nor he say anything to break the silence. You were also worried that you’d come to hate his presence in your safe space, finding his tall, lanky presence an irritation, but surprisingly, you don’t mind it. 

It’s nice to have company. 

Especially when that company is keeping his mouth shut. 

“How often do you come here?”

Or not. 

With a sigh, you reply, “Like twice a week. I can’t come as often as I’d like because of all the classes and stuff, not to mention all the wedding planning we have to do.”

“Guess you have it worse than me since I don’t even need to be fitted for a suit; they already have my measurements,” he muses. 

“For whatever reason, it’s always the women who have to plan these things, even though it’s the men that propose.” You accidentally make eye contact with him. “Or at least, that’s how it usually goes.”

Gojo hums, a little sheepishly, before he changes the subject. “So, how did you find this place?”

“We buried my grandmother in the graveyard when I was fifteen. We were close and I took the loss pretty hard. I couldn’t stand all the people pretending they cared so I ran off, got lost and found this clearing. Well, I actually fell through the hedge, but I found it, nonetheless. And this swing was here already. I don’t know how long it’s been here or why it’s here, but it is.”

“That sounds like a fairytale.” He swivels, swinging a long leg over to straddle the seat, facing you as he leans back against the metal chain. “I’m sorry for your loss, by the way. I lost my grandmother too and it was rough.”

You saw that on the news years ago, it was one of those private family events that make the national headlines by complete virtue of the family name. Your parents grieved in public like it was their own loss and you didn’t understand why. Of course, as you got older, you became more and more acquainted with the idea of ‘reputation’ and ‘public image’, but you still feel that same distance to the concept as you did when you were but a child. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you repeat back to him.

He shrugs. “It’s alright. I’ve got my gramps. We’re best buddies.”

“You have a lot of best buds, don’t you?” 

Gojo strikes you as the kind of guy who makes friends easily, thought you question the depth of most of those friendships; sincerity is a rare phenomenon in your world. 

“No,” he huffs, “I have Suguru, the girl that gave you my number, and gramps. I have lots of close friends, though.”

Considering his words, you realise you don’t have any best friends. Sure, you have friends you hang out with often, people that share your interest, that you can party with, but none you feel as strongly about as he does with those three people. You can hear it in his voice, the conviction, the pride, the confidence. And when you glance at him, you know he doesn’t even realise how defensive he sounds about his people.

How nice it must be to have someone like him as a friend.

“We could be friends, if you’d like,” he offers, and when you look at him with confusion, he adds, “You said it out loud, silly. You think I’m a good person to be friends with. Which, of course I am. I’m like super awesome.”

You burst out laughing. What he said isn’t even funny and he certainly doesn’t mean for it to be, but for some reason it is. So, you laugh, throwing your head back and clutching your stomach. He makes noises of complaints, telling you it’s rude to laugh at people. That makes you laugh harder. 

“Gojo, be serious for a second. We can’t be friends, idiot,” you push out between puffs of laughter. 

He frowns, lips twitching to fight back a smile at your flushed face. “Why not? We’re getting along fine right now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, for now. But we’re going to be married. Or at least, we’re supposed to be. And think of all the complications that brings, it just doesn’t provide the conditions for a healthy friendship, especially considering our beginning. Think of all the people in our circle who had arranged marriages. How many of them get along? Like, really get along. Hell! Think about our parents.”

“Well, we could be different. We don’t have to end up like them. We can break the cycle or something.”

You stop laughing.

Something shifts in the air, like the moon’s reappeared, the wind’s slowed down, and his eyes shine just a little brighter. It’s sudden and you almost don’t notice it, almost shrug it off. But there’s a sincerity lingering between you and it demands your attention.

Fixing him a solemn look, perhaps similar to the one he gave you before, you assert, “That sounds an awful like an admission of surrender, Gojo.”

“Maybe it is.”

The speed at which he concedes, the sheer resolution in his eyes and the way he doesn’t falter when he says it all scream at you something you won’t accept. Can’t.

He grips your elbow, his long fingers wrapping around the limb with ease, demanding your attention. The sombre expression on his ghostly face haunts you. It’s like he’s shifted into a different person, into someone years older, a man burdened with great responsibility. 

“I’m sorry. About how I started this year off. I regretted everything I said as soon as I said them. I can’t even remember why I said and did those things, but I definitely don’t have a good reason,” he rasped, a desperation lacing his words like he needs you to understand, like he tosses and turns over it. “I know you’re just as much a victim of this as I am, but I was facing a problem I didn’t know to solve, and I lashed out. At you. At someone who didn’t deserve it. And I’m sorry.”

You reel back, snatching your arm away. His touch burns the way ice does, and you have to rub warmth back into it, despite the layers between your skin and his. The sincerity in his eyes is alien, revealing far more about the ongoings of reality than you can absorb in one night. Confusingly, your heart is pounding to the beat of a song you’ve never heard before. 

This date thing, taking him to your secret haven, giving him the opportunity to see you not as the enemy but rather as a woman was a mistake. It’s all one big mistake. It would have been fine if he had stayed as the Gojo you knew, the boisterous, obnoxious party animal that cares only about immediate gratification. But the man in front of you is not someone you can marry. He isn’t the type of man you can be around and feel absolutely nothing for. 

“I’m hungry,” you mutter, standing abruptly.

He looks up at you, something passing in his eyes, almost akin to disappointment or sadness, and you can’t bear to think about what that could mean, so you simply gesture for him to follow you. 

In silence, you walk back the way you came, using your phone’s flashlight to navigate through the thick haze of darkness. This was a mistake; you let him in for a second, gave him a glimpse into your life, and you aren’t even sure why. Was it because you could hear your mother’s voice telling you to do whatever it takes to drag the man to the altar or because, despite yourself, you actually wanted to see what going on a date with Gojo means? 

Maybe it was both. 

Or neither. 

You’re losing more and more of yourself these days, doing things you’d never thought you’d do for one reason or another, and you no longer even know what you want. Your pride or your family? A marriage with Gojo or the friendship he’s offering? Is there’s a third option.

“What’d you wanna eat?” He asks, rocking back and forth on his feet as he stares up at a streetlight. 

You’ve both made it back onto the main road, the swings a mile away. He didn’t press the topic more, simply walked beside you and pushed branches away like before. 

It’s nearing eight in the evening and your stomach growls. 

“Who said I’m eating with you?”

Gojo rolls his eyes and pokes your shoulder. With a sulky tone, he groans, “Don’t be mean. You’re hungry, I’m hungry, let’s eat. Simple!”

“Can you cook?” 

He beams, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he looks at you over them, bright eyes sparkling with what you can only guess to be mischief. You realise you really should think before you speak. 

—

That’s how you find yourself in his frat house kitchen, cloak discarded, hair up and gloves off. His frat members are out, partying, he claims, so the whole house is free. When he suggested it, you looked at him like he was insane, but he only wiggled his brows.

“You scared?” He cocked his head, grinning at you in a way that made you want to punch his teeth in. 

Narrowing your eyes at him, you responded, “No, of course not.”

Gojo bent his arms and rocked his head, making clucking noises that echoed in the empty street. Every note pierced your body, mocking and goading. You knew exactly what he was doing, and it was fucking working, the stupid bastard. Without responding to his accusation, you stomped over to his car and gave him a glare. He fetched his car keys and spun them on his finger with a victorious whistle.

“Grate this,” he orders. 

His kitchen is huge, which is understandable for the size of the house and how many people live here. Apparently, there’s three more kitchens in the damn place, not that you believe even a quarter of the guys that live here know what a cutting board is. The kitchen is surprisingly clean, however. It’s sparkling clean. 

“We have cleaners that comes in every other day,” he chuckles, noticing your looks of complete judgement whilst he boils some pasta. “But we are pretty strict on cleanliness, regardless. And everyone knows, I’m not afraid to crack the whip to keep everyone in line.”

Scoffing, you clarify, “You? Cracking whips? I find that hard to believe.”

He leans against the island you’re stationed at, the sound of water simmering filling the small space between you. Watching you grate the cheese, he hums, fingers fiddling with the lace of your sleeve. He mutters, “I know how to be serious when I need to be.”

You hum too. 

Still fiddling with the fabric, you ignore his wandering hand, fingers slipping under to roll the soft lace between his fingertips. Goosebumps rise on your skin. His touch is tentative, hesitant and gentle — one would think he’s just afraid to snag the fabric, acknowledging the craftsmanship, but one glance up at him, seeing his gaze fixated on your exposed skin more than your sleeve, you know otherwise. 

“Hands to yourself, Geralt.”

“If I’m Geralt, that must make you Yennefer,” he retorts. With a laugh, he pulls away, returning to the stove to tend to the pasta sauce. You don’t realise how much warmth he generated until you feel a sudden draught. 

The smell of frying onions and garlic is delicious and you’re becoming more and more starved by the second. He’s agile, moving swiftly and on muscle memory as he opens drawers and cabinets to gather the things he needs. 

“How often do you cook?” You ask, arm getting tired from the motion of grating the block of cheese.

Gojo shrugs and admits, “Not as often as I’d like. Weekends are for parties and pizza and all the other days, everyone’s doing their thing, studying or whatever, and eating by myself is kinda sad, so I just eat out usually.”

“How is it possible that you eat out so often but still remain so skinny?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say because the next thing you know you’re being spun around and pressed into the island with a hard body. His arms are caging you in, keeping you still as he grins at you. 

He had thrown his jacket by the door when you both walked in; his biceps bulge as he flexes. They’re so much bigger now, or maybe they were always like that. And he’s pressed so close his Adam’s apple is right in front of you, bobbing when you tilt your head back so you can meet his eyes. 

“I’m plenty jacked, actually,” he brags and to add salt to the wound, he leans down, cheek brushing against yours to whisper against your ear, “wifey.”

You shove him off, snorting at his lame line. He back away with little protest. Trying to hide the heat in your face, you wash your hands, turning away from him completely. 

The rest of the hour passes by in a blink of an eye, and you finally sit down at the dining table across from each other. He’s a decent cook and you pay him a compliment even though it physically hurt to do so. 

“Do you not cook very often?” 

“I make sandwiches and ramen, that’s as far as I know how to do,” you admit with no shame.

He pours you a cup of water and asks, “Do you not have a chef to pre-make meals for you? My father insisted I have one, but I complained to my gramps about the lack of privacy and independence, and he gave up pretty quickly.”

You pause. It’s a stupid question to ask someone, from anyone else it’d drip in condescension, but you know he’s genuinely asking and it’s a valid question, just not one you’re ready to answer. So, with a careful shrug, you say simply, “I’m fine with the way things are.”

Gojo doesn’t sense the tense quiver of your voice, or if he does, he has enough tact to ignore it, so he continues the conversation. He talks to you about what being a frat president entails, and you tell him your experiences as the Treasurer. 

He also shares stories of his friends: the time ‘the gang’ snuck into the gym to put shaving cream in Toji’s locker after he had his room bubbled wrapped down to every single pair of boxers, each and every one of his friends’ drunk habits, and how he’s actually a lightweight so he sticks to beers most of the time but he hates the taste and actually much prefer cocktails. 

“Wait, wait,” you say between laughs, “you drink cosmos in secret ‘cause you don’t want your frat mates knowing their president actually hates beer?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But it isn’t my fault those things taste like wheat piss!”

You laugh harder. “They do! They totally do!”

“Has anyone ever said you have a pretty la—“

“Woah!” A voice yells out. “What’s going on here?”

You both turn to look at the wide-open door. Two men walk in, they’re in gym clothes, wide toothy grins on their faces as they stare between you and their president. You recognise them as second years, often hanging around Gojo in pictures or loitering in the Quad. 

One guy, a fake blond, wolf whistles when he sees you. “Satoru, you didn’t tell us you were having a girl over. It’s been a while; we rarely even see your bestie nowadays.”

“Yeah, this is a sight for sore eyes. This place was getting too much hotdog and not enough buns, if you know what I mean.”

When they both guffaw, you grimace. Their voices are grating, like sharp notes, and despite yourself, you cower in your seat. You hate the way they’re looking at you, in half desire and half repulsion — they’re enjoying the sight of a woman in their space, but they don’t know what to make of your attire. Usually, you don’t let people like them get to you, not their comments and not their stares. But something’s different, you’re more sensitive, less guarded. 

“Isn’t she your fiancé? We’ve heard all about her. The girls from Delta Sigma said she dresses like a witch, and well, they aren’t entirely wrong.”

“Get out.”

Three heads turn. Gojo’s standing; you hadn’t seen him move. He’s leaning on his fingertips, head hanging as he stares at his empty plate. No one says a thing. There’s no air in here anymore. Only silence, a grim, gut-wrenching silence. 

They stammer. “H-hey, man. What’s wrong?”

“Get. Out.”

“Come on, we’re just messing around,” the fake blonde chuckles nervously. 

Gojo looks up, slowly, like a creaking door. When his eyes settle on them, they stagger back with the force of his disappointment, and again with his wrath. Though you feel the tendrils of that infinite space between you, you don’t bear its impossible weight. 

With his body tense, veins bulging along his arms, broad shoulders pushed back ready for something you can’t quite grasp in this moment, you realise he really is jacked. And those muscles aren’t just for show or pressing girls against marble countertops. 

As great as it would be to be his friend, it’s even greater to not be his enemy. You didn’t realise it then, but you do now, if Gojo had ever really wanted to make someone disappear, he probably could have done so. 

“You would do well to remember that I, as descendent of the founder of Alpha Phi Delta, have a right to terminate any fraternity brother’s membership without a need for sufficient cause. Just because I’ve never exploited that clause doesn’t mean I’m above it. So, get out. Now.”

Cheeks red and heads hung low, they walk back out without sparing you another glance. 

Gojo sits back down, shoulders still tense. 

The silence hasn’t disappeared, but it has lightened, much more tolerable now. With an uncertainty in your movements, you push your knife and fork together and pat your lips dry. 

“Well, this has certainly been an eventful night,” you say. “I really ought to go, though.”

Gojo nods and takes your plate, leaving to go to the kitchen whilst you freshen up in the bathroom. 

When you come out, he’s already waiting outside with his hands tucked in his pockets, staring up at puffs of clouds he breathes into the night sky. There’s a sombre air around him, like you’re better off not disturbing him, but when he spots you from the corner of his eye, that air evaporates and he beams, literally brightens, practically shadowing the moon. 

“Hey, come on, I’ll drive you to your dorm,” he asserts with a smile. 

And he does. You get into his car for the second time of the night and watch the campus blur past you. Through the ten-minute car ride, he sings along to the pop songs on the radio, bopping his head to every beat like they’re coursing through his veins. 

“You don’t know these songs? Really?” 

He’s completely incredulous, looking at you as if you’ve grown two heads. You roll your eyes and jokingly explain you’re committed to the aesthetic. He finds that funny. The rest of the ride continues wordlessly.

“Alright, this is me,” you announce when he parks. He climbs out the car with you, leaning against his door as you shuffle awkwardly on your feet. “Despite certain parts of the time being…stiff, should we say, I had a lot of fun. Surprisingly.”

A tinge of red colours the tips of his ears. “Yeah, me too. I expected to lose my life, or at least a few limbs, at that graveyard, so I’m pretty happy with the turnout.”

You roll your eyes. “And I’m very happy I’m not covered in pig’s blood coming out of your frat house.”

“No, closest we had to that was the pasta sauce,” he chuckles. 

“Which was surprisingly delicious, by the way. You should cook more often instead of the junk food you eat.”

“Says you?” He pushes your shoulder lightly. “Miss Cup Noodles.”

“Whatever.”

The conversation dies there, laughter fading as both of you eye the doors of your dorm building. You pull your cloak tighter around you, irritated that, even though he’s just in jeans and a plain graphic tee, he’s seemingly unbothered by the temperature drop. 

“You should go in,” Gojo suggests, voice softer, barely louder than a whisper. 

You nod and make a step to go, but then a warm hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back. He’s carrying the weight of it in his palm, thumb grazing your wrist. There’s electricity thrumming where he touches and you’re about to snatch your hand away before he tightens his grip. 

“Just a second,” he mutters, before pulling out something from his pockets. Something black. 

Your gloves. 

You forgot to put them on, having left them in the kitchen. 

He’s taking his time, smoothing the material over your knuckles, ensuring your fingers are tucked in properly. His thumb lingers on the curve of each finger, exploring the slopes. Your breath hitches as his hands envelope yours completely, his touch deliberate and light and there’s no other way to describe it: it’s positively reverent. 

The glove slide snugly into place, a second skin but they feel new, as if fresh from the machine, still warm. 

You shouldn’t let him reach for your other hand, shouldn’t just watch as he unfolds the other glove, slipping it on with much more care than you yourself had ever done. His eyes are watching the fabric consume more and more of your skin, until they meet the ends of your sleeve, and no skin remains. 

“Gojo,” you breathe out. 

He shakes his head, brows furrowing. “Satoru. Call me Satoru.”

When he finally looks up, your eyes meet and your pulse quickens, quick and short breaths pulling your chest up and down. You didn’t even realise one hand is clutching his shoulder whilst the other remains in his grip. And you certainly don’t notice that you’re standing much closer than before, only a hair’s breadth from finding out whether his lips are as soft and plush as his touch. 

“You smell really nice,” he whispers, thumb running across your knuckles, like he’s willing warmth into your hand. 

You’re so close it only takes one gust of wind to push you together, to taste what a future with him could mean, to seal the first date with something that’ll keep you up at night. Just one kiss, one bad decision and everything could fade away for a second. You could pretend he’s just a boy and you’re just a girl and this is a normal date, that you have a normal relationship and tomorrow you could go back to being arranged lovers. 

His lashes flutter, so long and wispy and you’re jealous. Flickering between your eyes and your lips, you know he’s searching for any sign that you might want this just as bad as he does. You’re craning your head back, back arched to reach him, and when your chest rubs against his for a millisecond, he shuts his eyes with a groan.  

“Hey! If it isn’t Gojo,” a gruff voice bellows.

You step back, gasping for air and desperately smoothing your skirt down as you give a shaky smile to the newcomer. He’s a tall, buff man wearing shorts and carrying a basketball. He pats Gojo on the back, oblivious to the tension, to the way his friend is pouting, grumbling about how he ‘ruined the moment.’

The man looks at you with a friendly enough smile, eyeing your appearance with nothing more than curiosity before he gives you one of those manly nods. 

“Whatcha doing at my girl’s dorm?” He asks. 

Clearing his throat, Gojo answers, “Just dropping my wi—I mean, my friend off. Yeah, just stopping by.”

The guy doesn’t look ready to stop talking. So you take the initiative to excuse yourself with an awkward kiss on the white-haired boy’s cheek and you whisper, “Goodnight...Satoru.”

You don’t wait for him to reply.

Just as you’re about to enter your dorm building, you hear a distinct, “Dude, I totally cockblocked you, didn’t I? Fuck, put that thing away. You’re gonna poke my fucking eyes out!”

You smile just as your phone pings.

[voxslays]

MY RESOLUTION IS YOU

TLDR >>> What spending the new years with them would be like. Featuring Alastor, Vox, & Lucifer x Reader (separately).

Alastor

Very laid back. I’ve seen others headcannon that Alastor doesn’t really like drinking all too much but will occasionally (which I totally agree with), and he might have a brandy or two before deciding to call it quits for the night. Besides, someone sober has to make sure there is no chaos in Charlie’s hotel! Although he will definitely watch your drink though (even though nobody in the hotel would dare try something like that and especially not while Alastor is around-) He won’t take his eyes off it!

Is a little bit more cuddlier when drunk, and just starts randomly people watching. It’s safe to say he is definitely enjoying everyone embarrassing themselves while drunk. Very entertaining.

Alastor will definitely indulge in the hors d'oeuvres Charlie brought for the party—and might sneak a few of his own dishes into the mix…specifically his mother’s jambalaya.

If Alastor is feeling pleasantly that night and a little tipsy he might give you a little peck on the lips. Nothing that lasts for too long though, since he has ‘business to attend to’.

Lucifer

Is somewhere inbetween the life of the party and just a laid back dad. Don’t get me wrong, Lucifer can totally start chugging shots and partying, but not only does he have a reputation (that he needs to get back because people don’t even respect him anymore-) and Charlie is there.

On another note, he can be such a flirt. Luci just has that devilish charm, what can I say? He will not stop flirting with you. You felt the heat run to your cheeks ten minutes ago, and you don’t know how much more you can take! Good luck, Babe.

I feel like Luci either eats a ton or barely any at all (or goes back and forth between the two-) but Charlie was so kind and ordered hors d'oeuvres for everyone! He can’t disappoint her by not having atleast a small plate! (Which may turn into more…)

At midnight, he would awkwardly ask you for a small peck on the lips, which would then turn into a full on makeout session…which may lead to more in someone’s bedroom. But for now Lucifer is just enjoying the moment with the people he loves; You and Charlie.

Vox

Life of the party. Vox is extremely charming and charismatic—even more so when drunk—so of course people flock to the Vee’s annual New Year’s Eve party to even get the chance to speak a couple words to the overlord.

Also very flirty, but less awkward than Lucifer. The entire night he will have his arms somewhere on you. Whether it’s the small of your back, your shoulder, or just simply holding your hand, he needs to be touching you at all times.

I can totally see him drinking maybe a little more than he should. Vox knows his limits…but does he care? Sure, he knows he will feel like shit in the morning, but that’s his future-self’s problem. He is too caught up in the moment with you to care.

Probably has one or two full plates of hors d'oeuvres and appetizers. What? He’s hungry! And those mini hotdogs look so delicious. If his mouth could water through his screen, it would. Especially at the sight of you in that outfit-

At midnight, he will grab you by your hips and kiss you roughly with his screen. It turns into a full makeout session real fast. And there is no way the two of you don’t lose your clothes and end up in his bed by the end of the night.

[banananutmuffin28]

Thank you for taking one for the team! Since you are taking requests can you do a Se-mi x reader where reader is a part of Gi-hun's group and tries to get her to join the team?

A/N: (￣^￣ )ゞ Ofc ofc, more Se-Mi for the soul! I noticed you all really like her haha

Please, Come With Me—Player Se-Mi x GN! Player Reader

Se-Mi was an interesting girl.

You had seen her occasionally, but never really paid much attention to her. Sure, she was certainly attractive—you would be lying if you said that her short hair and many piercings hadn’t left you flustered the first time you laid eyes on her—but the girl quickly flew from your mind when you realized your life was at stake.

You couldn’t afford to die now, not when you had a loved one waiting for you on the other side.

But, during the Six-Legged Race, something happened that shifted your perception on Se-Mi.

As you stood there with Gi-Hun, waiting for the final people in your group to get into their respective teams, you noticed three men approaching Se-Mi.

The purple haired guy—who made it clear that his name was Thanos—smirked, looking up and down at Se-Mi before asking her to join his team. Nam-su or Nam-gyu—you couldn’t remember which—tried to get him to stop, but Thanos merely brushed him aside.

Of course, the way the men acted hadn’t thrown the thought of Se-Mi back into your orbit—it was what happened next.

Se-Mi seemed reluctant, tilting her head to the side as the beginnings of a grin formed on her lips. She didn’t seem at all impressed or intimidated by the fact that Thanos was a famous rapper. Rather, she looked amused.

“Ah, Thanos,” She started, her face growing wry, “Do you have all of the infinity stones?”

When you heard that, you couldn’t stop the giggle that burst from your lips.

Okay, Se-Mi has humor. You liked that.

After that exchange, you were more observant to the woman. You noticed how she had a type of fire inside her, one that couldn’t be put out easily by men like Nam-Gyu (or Nam-Su). And, you saw how used that very same fire to nurture the more vulnerable, like the boy who had refused to leave her side during the entire match.

She’s a good person. And she’s so pretty too.

Something peculiar bloomed inside you. It began from your chest, then spread to your collarbone, your neck, and then finally, your face.

You crossed your arms together, cheeks growing hot.

It would certainly be a shame of Se-Mi died. You wouldn’t mind helping her out a little if she needed it. In fact—

“Hey, are you listening to me?”

Gi-Hun’s gruff voice startled you from your thoughts, and you all but jumped back.

“W…what?”

He sighed and shook his head. You looked down, feeling like a kid about to hand their father their less than savory test score.

“I said, it is important that we closely observe the games so that we can note any strategies the other players use. It will be good for us.”

He turned his gaze to your direction, scooting his body closer to you.

“You shouldn’t be distracted by other things, not when you could die if you don’t do your part on time,” Gi-Hun said, before squinting his eyes. “What were you even looking at, anyways?”

You looked into your lap, feeling embarrassed.

“It was nothing!” You squeak, though it doesn’t sound convincing even to your ears.

Gi-Hun ignored you, craning his neck so that he could get a better view.

Your stomach sank as he started to grin.

“Ah, kid, were you staring at that cute girl with the piercings?”

The tips of your ears grew hot.

You debated on denying it, but knew that it would be of no use. You weren’t an idiot, you knew your body language gave it away eons ago.

Instead, you simply cleared your throat, turning your eyes back to the current race.

“Hey, what was that about observing the contestants of the race?”

Gi-Hun simply laughed, slapping your back hard enough to make your eyes water.

“Oh, don’t be shy, kid. Why, I remember how I felt the first time I met my ex-wife! I don’t know how I thought wooing her with a monkey would work…”

Letting out a groan, you covered your face with your hands.

Not this story again!

—

You decided you absolutely didn’t like Nam-Gyu.

He seemed to have it out for Se-Mi, choosing to constantly make snide comments about her to her face. Now, it wasn’t as if Se-Mi was utterly defenseless, as she would always stand her ground whenever she or Min-Su was insulted, but you still didn’t like seeing her have to be on edge so often.

You looked back to your crew, watching as Dae-ho told a joke you couldn’t quite hear. Jun-hee had doubled over laughing, spilling a bit of her milk onto the floor.

Se-Mi should be able to joke around and not have to constantly defend herself.

The boy she was protecting isn’t even trying to help her back.

You scowled, opening your milk carton with more force than necessary.

“Hey, you okay, kid?”

You didn’t even have to look back to know who it was. Instead, you frown, taking a swig at your milk carton before you said, “Hey, how would you feel if we had another member in this team?”

Gi-Hun blinked.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind.”

He turned back to the others.

“Hey, would you guys be okay if someone else joined us?”

“Heck yeah!” Dae-Ho screamed. “The more the merrier.”

As soon as those words left his lips, the another people whooped and cheered.

Gi-Hun nudged your shoulder, a smile on his face.

“I don’t think the others would mind, either. Think you can convince that girl with piercings to join us, though?”

Fuck.

At your startled expression, he let out a full belly laugh.

“Ah, I pieced a few things together. You don’t exactly have a great poker face, kid.”

You let out a small grumble, but felt relieved all the same.

At least you didn’t have two people to convince. Something told you that Se-Mi wasn’t going to be easily swayed.

Suddenly, a piece of bread was shoved in front of your face.

“Eat up, kid. I believe in you.”

—

You had to convince her. Now.

Your mouth fell open when you saw Se-Mi choose X. Now that she did that, it was more than likely that Thanos and his lackeys would be after her.

The only ally she had left was a boy who wouldn’t stand up for himself.

You tightened your fists. It would be dangerous for her to be alone tonight.

—

As the countdown for bedtime commenced, you quickly walked over to her, pretending to ignore the little thumbs-up Gi-Hun sent your way.

You couldn’t be distracted.

Se-Mi stood in the far right corner, the only indicator that it even was her being her lip piercing as it glimmered under the artificial light.

When you got closer, you put a hand in the air.

“Hey!”

She looked up from her conversation with Min-Su, startled. Her eyes seemed to narrow as you walked closer.

When the boy noticed you, he froze and quietly slunk behind her.

“Hey?”

Your heart thundered in your chest, and already you could feel doubt festering in your gut.

You pushed it to aside.

Clearing your throat, you put on your best smile and waved at her.

“Uhm, I was wondering if you would like to join my group. We’re—“

“Yeah, I know what time you’re in,” Se-Mi interrupted, eyed gliding to Gi-Hun. “I’m not interested. Min-Su and I are fine on our own.”

As she began to walk away, you could feel your chance to convince her dwindling. Hastily, you followed after.

“Wait, please!” You yell a little too loud, causing some of the players around you to give confused looks.

Se-Mi walked faster.

Cursing, you picked up your pace and tried to grab her arm.

She pushed you away.

“Is this why you were staring at me so often?” Se-Mi demanded, roughly pulling her arm away from you. She straightened up, crossing her arms together as she took a step towards you. “I don’t need your pity. I know what I signed up for when I voted X, and I’m wholly prepared to deal with the consequences.”

Despite the circumstances, you blushed.

“You noticed?”

She smiled, though it was more out of malice than humor.

“It was a bit hard not to when your eyes were glued to me, sweetheart.”

You knew the pet name was soaked in derision, but that didn’t stop your damned stomach from doing summersaults.

Determinedly, you ignored her words.

“I just want to help you, Se-Mi. You know how those guys treated you.”

She scowled.

“As I said before, I don’t need your charity. I am doing just fine with—“

“Please!”

The word burst out of your lips before you could stop it.

Se-Mi looked taken back. Behind her, you heard a soft gasp.

Fighting through your embarrassment, you continue onward.

“I stared at you for so long because I felt that you’re really pretty and I sorta-liked-how-you-stood-up-for-yourself.” The last half of the sentence was spoken in a rush.

“But when I offered you help, it’s not because I pity you, Se-Mi, it’s because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Se-Mi raised an eyebrow. Her stance was more relaxed now, though her eyebrows were still furrowed.

“Why? We’re practically strangers.”

“Well…” You bit your lip. “I know that you probably have people who care for you outside the games, Se-Mi.”

You pointed a finger at yourself. “Hell, I do too. I’m only in this damned hellhole because I need to pay for my relative’s medical bills. They’re going to die if they don’t get it.”

You felt your eyes water.

“They’re…all I have left on this damned rock.”

Se-Mi exhaled softly. Her eyes were gentler now, and her lips pressed into a thin line. Hesitantly, she reached out to hold your hand.

You allowed it, curling your fingers around her hand.

“Se-Mi, there is no doubt that you are very strong. But, despite that, I don’t think you should get needlessly injured if you have a way out.”

You placed your other hand on the back of your neck.

“It’s not pity. Think of it more as…an alliance.”

As Se-Mi chewed her lip, your eyes traveled down to your joined hands. You focused on the warmth that radiated from her, and pressed against the callouses on her knuckles.

You knew she had been through a lot, even before she had stepped foot into death game.

Finally, she blew out a breath.

“Oh all right, I’ll join your little team,” She said at last, pulling her hand back so she could nudge you with her elbow. “I know you won’t stop badgering me about it if I refuse.”

She glanced at the boy behind her. “Min-Su, what do you think?”

He only gave a shy nod as his response.

You grinned.

You did it!

Before you could drop yourself, you practically tackled her, enveloping the woman into your embrace.

She froze for a moment, then returned your hug, chuckling.

“Thank you!”

Amusedly, Se-Mi shook her head. “Whose life are we saving again?”

Too elated to be embarrassed by her comment, you simply let go and reached out your hand.

“Come on!” You chirped.

Se-Mi took your hand.

“Lead the way, sweetheart. Oh, and by the way,” She said, drawing out the last syllable in a way that only foretold mischief.

You motioned for her to continue, trying to steel yourself.

Endearingly, Se-Mi pinched your cheek.

“What was that earlier about you finding me pretty?”

[chancloud8]

CHAPTER 2

series masterlist

Pairing: OT8 x reader

Word Count: 4,8k

Tags: bodyguard!ot8, idol!reader, banter

Summary: you're still resisting your new bodyguards and while there seems to be a brat war going on between minho, seungmin and you, you slowly warm up to some of the others. a/n: I nearly deleted the whole chapter and started over like six times while writing this lmao. I hope you like it <3

With Chan and Minho on your heels you storm into Yoona’s office without knocking. Luckily for you she’s not in a meeting nor is she on the phone or she would have probably fired your ass on the spot. Your manager looks up from her computer and frowns at you.

‘Where’s the fire, Nabi?’ 

‘Don’t Nabi me,’ you hiss, balling your fist to stop yourself from angrily pointing at her. You might be angry, but you still respect the woman. 

‘Ah, so you’re that mad at me,’ Yoona sighs, crossing her arms as she leans back in her chair. ‘Go on then, give me your worst.’ 

You grit your teeth and look over your shoulder at your two future bodyguards, pondering if you should really give Yoona a piece of your mind with them present. Chan looks worried, but when you meet Minho’s gaze he just raises his eyebrows at you, fueling your anger. 

‘They are not moving in with me,’ you growl, taking a step forward to create distance between you and the two men. ‘You can’t force this on me.’ 

Yoona stays silent, knowing you well enough that this won’t be all. 

‘You want them to follow me around all day, fine, but I’m not being watched twenty four seven, Yoon. Even Faris isn’t with me at night now, so why should they?’ 

‘Yeah and look what happened, some lunatic tried to break into your house,’ Minho mumbles. 

‘I moved!’ you yell, turning around to glare at him. 

Minho isn’t impressed and once again raises his eyebrows at you. ‘And you think that no one will find out your new address? I’m sorry to break your bubble, Princess, but stalkers are named just that for a reason and you have some real messed up fans.’ 

‘I also bought a new fancy security system,’ you cross your arms, not breaking your eye contact with him. 

‘Even those can fail, Y/N,’ Chan says, stepping forward with his hands raised as if he’s trying to show you he means no harm. ‘If something really happens it still takes a few minutes for someone to reach you.’ 

He has a point, but you’re not going to give up this easily. 

‘I’ll get a guard dog then,’ you shrug, only partly bluffing. 

Minho snorts and shakes his head. ‘You’re impossible you know, you should be grateful.’ 

‘Grateful?’ you laugh humorlessly. ‘Sure buddy, I’m oh so grateful that I’ll lose even more of my privacy.’ 

They really don’t get it, do they? As an idol you already have little to no privacy, your life being led by your manager and the company you signed under while the media and your fans watch your every move. You love the life, your fans and even the hard work you have to put in, but sometimes the sacrifices still hurt. Sometimes you wish you could experience normal life again, like going to the grocery store or the mall without security or people following you around. 

Minho glares at you and opens his mouth to say something else, but Chan steps in front of him. ‘And we understand,’ he says softly, smiling kindly at you. 

‘Well, I don’t,’ Minho grumbles. 

‘We do,’ Chan keeps his eyes on you as he speaks. ‘I know it will be a sacrifice to share your home with us, but Faris and Yoona picked this house for a reason.’ 

You glance at Yoona and she nods. 

‘It might be a big house, but I’ll still know you’re there. I’ll never be home alone. I won’t be able to walk around in my underwear in my own fucking home or dance on the table while eating ice cream straight out of the carton.’ 

‘You still can if you want to,’ Chan grins. ‘But I get your point and I promise you that we’ll try to be as invisible as possible.’ 

‘There must be another way? Can’t you take turns guarding my door or something?’ you try again. 

‘Selfish much,’ Minho says under his breath and this time Chan also glares at him. 

Anger starts to bubble up in your belly again, but before you can even think about yelling some more, Yoona appears next to you. She wraps her arms around you and presses a kiss against your temple.

'Just get over it, darling, this is happening.’ she says. ‘Now go home and enjoy the peace and quiet while you still can. Tomorrow Minho, Felix and Hyunjin will join you for training and by this weekend they will all move in.’ 

You open your mouth to protest some more, but Yoona is already walking back to her desk, letting you know that this conversation is over. You know her well enough to know that no matter what you say or how much you beg, she won’t change her mind on this. When you risk to glance at the men, Minho grins at you and Chan smiles. 

‘Fuck my life,’ you mutter. 

****

You don't talk to any of the men again and just ask Faris to take you home so you can spend the rest of the day mopping in your room filled with unpacked boxes while Faris sits downstairs doing god knows what.

The next day you feel a little better and when you eat your breakfast you text Jisung.

You: Sorry about storming out yesterday.

Jisung:You’re already forgiven (by me at least)

You: Tell Minho to leave his judgement at home

Jisung:How did you know I was with him?

You:Lucky guess. Will you be at the company today?

Jisung:Yes, I'm already on my way. Chan is picking you up.

You frown at your phone and look at Faris who's reading the paper across from you while sipping his tea.

'You’re not coming with me today?' You ask him, pushing away your half eaten bowl of porridge.

Faris looks up with a smile. 'Ji-a has an appointment I'd like to be at, so I asked Chan to be with you until I'm back.'

'Oh, of course,' you give him a small smile in return. 'You should definitely be with Ji-a.'

Faris folds up the paper. 'It will be good for you to spend some time with him, Nabi, just give him a chance.'

'Yeah, okay,' you nod. 'I'll try.'

‘Good,’ Faris smiles. ‘I’m sure you’ll grow to love them.’

‘We’ll see,’ you smile back. ‘Chan and Jisung seem really nice at least.’ 

When the man beams at you, you promise yourself you’ll try to be a bit easier on the whole situation, if only to make Faris happy. 

Chan arrives shortly after you clean up your breakfast and you quickly grab your bag and trusty water bottle, trying very hard not to stare at how good he looks in his dark blue suit. It's a crime really and you already know that one of these days he’s going to catch you staring. 

‘You ready?’ Chan asks.

You nod and wave at Faris. ‘Give Ji-a my love.’ 

‘Will do, Nabi. Try and not piss off too many people today, yeah?’ 

You laugh. ‘Can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.’

Chan chuckles as he holds open the front door for you. ‘Should I warn the others?’ 

You shrug as you follow him to the car, already taking out your phone to text Jisung you’re on your way. He quickly replies with a thumbs up. 

‘Why don’t you sit next to me?’ Chan asks when you reach the car. ‘I’d like to talk a bit if that’s alright.’ 

‘Oh, sure,’ you nod before walking around the car to get to the other side. 

The smell of coffee and sandalwood hits your nose as you get into the passenger seat and you smile in surprise. There’s two to go cups on the dashboard and the sandalwood must either be Chan’s cologne or some sort of car perfume. It smells nice. 

Chan sits down behind the wheel and when you’re buckled up he reaches for one of the coffee cups and hands it to you. ‘Faris said you like cappuccino.’ 

Your mouth forms a surprised ‘oh’ and you happily wrap your fingers around the cup. ‘Thank you,’ you smile genuinely at him. ‘Caffeine is the way to my heart.’ 

Chan chuckles and starts the car. ‘I’ll remember that.’ 

You take a sip of your coffee and close your eyes when the creamy taste of a perfect cappuccino hits your tongue. 

‘Where did you get this?’ you ask Chan, twisting the cup in your hand to look for a logo or anything that will tell you where it’s from. 

‘It’s self made,’ Chan says, his eyes on the road. ‘Do you like it?’ 

Your eyes widen in surprise and you take another sip, nodding happily. ‘You made it? It's delicious.’ 

‘No, I don’t like coffee, but we have a fancy coffee machine at our dorm. The guys are very particular about their coffee and prefer to make their own.’

‘I guess that will be one pro about you moving in,’ you sigh. ‘So who made it then?’ 

‘If I tell you, will you tell them thank you?’ 

You look at Chan with narrowed eyes, taking notice of the grin on his face. 

‘It’s Minho isn’t it?’ 

‘Yes, he’s the coffee king in our dorm.’ 

‘Damnit,’ you mutter. 

Chan laughs and you can’t help but smile. His laugh is adorable and you notice he giggles a lot too. It doesn’t fit his bad boy image, but you like it. 

‘So, will you?’ Chan asks, looking at you. 

‘Thank him? Hmm probably not.’ 

‘Why not?’ 

You snort. ‘He’s a brat.’ 

‘He says the same thing about you,’ Chan smiles. 

‘Of course he does,’ you roll your eyes and take another sip of your coffee. ‘He’s lucky he makes good coffee.’ 

‘He’s also a really good dancer.’ 

‘And you’re not just saying this cause you’re biased?’ 

Chan laughs again and damnit you could get used to that sound. ‘I probably am, but both Minho and Hyunjin danced professionally before they joined the program. Minho has even toured before.’ 

You blink at that piece of information and purse your lips. He must be good if he toured with an idol before, they don’t just hire anybody. 

‘What about Felix?’ you ask, steering the conversation away from Minho. 

‘He mostly danced for fun, but took a preference to martial arts. He’s very flexible and I’ve been told he picks up choreography crazy fast.’ 

All of this makes you very curious to see the three of them in action in a bit and a small part of you secretly hopes that they’re not as good as Chan and Yoona say, because if they are, it gives you one less reason to dislike them and you’re not ready to make friends with either of the men that are rooting up your privacy. 

During the rest of the ride you stay silent, looking out of the window and humming along with the music Chan puts on. He doesn’t push you to talk and you’re grateful for that. Chan seems great and you’re sure that in time you’ll get along splendidly, but for now you simply refuse to make too much of an effort and if that makes you the brat Minho thinks you are, so be it. 

The company building looms up before you and you quickly finish up your coffee as Chan maneuvers the car into the parking garage. As soon as the car stands still, you open the door and jump out, not waiting for Chan. 

‘Y/N!’ Chan calls out after you. ‘Wait up!’ 

You ignore him and press the button for the elevator, tapping your foot as you wait for the doors to open. Luck isn’t on your side and it doesn’t take long before footsteps sound behind you. Gritting your teeth in annoyance, you turn around to face Chan while trying to decide if you should apologize for running or not. 

Your eyes widen when you’re not met with Chan’s face. 

‘I knew you’d be a runner,’ Seungmin says, shaking his head like he’s disappointed to be proven right. 

Before you can argue, Chan appears beside him, frowning and holding your water bottle in his hands. Shit. The look on Chan’s face actually makes you feel guilty for running out on him like that.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say. ‘I–’

‘Are you though?’ Seungmin interrupts you, crossing his arms. 

You glare at him. ‘I am actually, stop being a–’ 

‘A little brat like you?’ a new voice pipes up. ‘That’s impossible.’ 

Minho. Of course. 

You roll your eyes at him and turn to face the elevator again. ‘Please, I just walked to the elevator without Chan, if that makes me a brat, it makes you a bit of a drama queen don’t you think.’ 

A hand grabs your wrist and pulls so you have to turn around. 

‘I don’t,’ Minho glowers at you. ‘We are here for a reason and you better start to accept it soon or one of these days something will actually happen.’ 

‘Min,’ Chan puts his hand on Minho’s shoulder. ‘Let’s all calm down here.’ 

The elevator doors finally open and you pull your wrist out of Minho’s grip and get inside, pushing the button for the second floor. 

‘Yes, calm your ass down, nothing happened,’ you mumble in their direction. ‘I was without Chan for about ten seconds.’ 

‘That’s all it can take,’ Seungmin says, standing beside you. 

Chan gives you a pleading look as if to say ‘please don’t fight this.’ 

You hold up your hands in surrender, but you don’t say anything. The tension in the elevator is thick and you're glad it’s only a short ride up. Minho leaves without saying anything else and you’re already dreading dance training later. 

‘Come on,’ Chan says, gently placing his hand on your back and pushing you in the direction of your studio. ‘I think we need to have a proper talk.’ 

Seungmin follows and you can’t help but throw him an annoyed look over your shoulder. He just rolls his eyes at you and you grit your teeth, looking ahead again. You might try with Chan and Jisung, but Seungmin and Minho could bite your ass. 

‘Here,’ Chan says, handing you your water bottle. ‘You left this when you jumped out in a hurry.’ 

You open your mouth to apologize, but Chan shakes his head and gives you a sad smile. ‘No need to apologize when you don’t really mean it. I’ll earn your trust eventually.’ 

God damnit, why does this man need to have such adorable puppy eyes and cute dimples you want to poke with your finger. 

'Good morning!' Jisung greets you with a grin when you step into his office. He’s behind his desk that’s littered with papers, two cups of coffee and an empty bowl that probably held ramen if you guessed the smell that lingers in the room correctly. ‘How are we feeling today?’ 

‘She already ran away from Channie Hyung,’ Seungmin says as he drops down on the couch. 

You groan in annoyance. ‘I don’t think you can count walking ahead to the elevator as running away, but okay.’ 

‘You still should have waited for me,’ Chan says, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. ‘I don’t care that we’re inside your company, you need to stick close to at least one of us at all times.’ 

‘Okay,’ Jisung claps his hands. ‘I see you’re all feeling fine on this beautiful morning, but I haven’t had enough coffee yet for arguing.’ 

‘Preach,’ you mumble, sharing a grin with your new assistant. 

‘You had two coffees already,’ Chan frowns, eying the two cups on the desk. 

‘One actually, the other one was Minho’s,’ Jisung says and he chuckles when you pull a face at his name. ‘How about we all take a little time to wake up some more. Maybe you guys can get us some more coffee while I talk with Y/N here about some of the rules we came up with?’ 

‘Rules? Jisung, come on, I thought you were on my side here,’ you sigh, pouting at him. ‘I’m not a child, you don’t have to give me rules.’ 

‘Apparently we do,’ Seungmin says. 

‘You’re really getting on my nerves here, buddy,’ you glower at him. ‘If anything it’s behaviour like yours and Minho’s that sets me off, so how about I give you some rules of my own huh?’ 

Seungmin snorts and cocks his head. ‘You have no say in this, missy, you’re not our boss.’ 

Jisung quickly grabs your arm when you’re about to jump forward. 

‘Minnie, get the fuck out of here,’ Jisung says, pointing to the door with a serious look on his face. ‘You’re not helping.’ 

‘Yeah, minnie,’ you grin. ‘Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.’ 

Seungmin just laughs and stands up, holding your gaze. ‘Sure thing, but remember that I’ll be watching you closely, little fly.’ 

‘Seungmin,’ Chan’s voice sounds stern and you grin at him, waving sweetly. 

‘Bye now.’ 

‘You know you’re not helping, right?’ Jisung chuckles, letting go of your arm as Seungmin and Chan disappear into the hallway. 

‘I know, he just brings out the worst in me I guess,’ you admit with a grimace. ‘You might have already gathered this, but I don’t really like to be told what to do and I’m very stubborn.’ 

‘You don’t say,’ Jisung gasps, acting like he’s surprised. 

‘Oh shut up,’ you laugh. ‘You would be too when you’re a famous idol with no real say about basically anything you do. I can’t really act out about it, because I chose to be here and I’m grateful about it too, but sometimes it just gets too much you know. I guess you guys are just an easy target for me to lash out at, at the moment.’ You blink when you realize what you just told him and clear your throat. ‘I didn’t mean to drop that on you, sorry.’ 

‘Don’t be,’ Jisung says, grabbing your hand and giving it a little squeeze. ‘I’m glad you did. I can’t even imagine the pressure you must be under constantly and us coming in after what I think is a pretty scary moment in your life, probably doesn’t help.’ 

‘Not really, but maybe Minho was right and I should be a bit more grateful, at least towards my company, that they care enough about me to hire a shit load of bodyguards.’

‘Maybe,’ Jisung smiles. 

‘If you tell Minho I said that, I will kick your ass,’ you threaten. ‘I’m nowhere near ready to be nice to him.’ 

Jisung laughs and holds up his hands. ‘My lips are sealed, I’m just glad you’ve seemed to accept me at least.’ 

‘You’re very easy to like,’ you shrug. ‘And maybe it helps that you also pose as my assistant, so it feels less like you’re watching my every move.’ 

Jisung hums. ‘Maybe, but I’ll be with you just as much, if not more.’ 

For some reason that thought doesn’t bother you as much and you sigh, leaning against the desk. ‘Well, since I like you right now, let me apologize in advance for when I’m in a mood. Caffeine and food usually helps though.’

‘Good to know, are you ready to go over some of our rules now?’ 

‘What if I say no?’ 

Jisung chuckles. ‘I’ll email them to you, print them out and hang them all over your studio and I’ll keep texting you until you read it anyway.’ 

While you only just met him yesterday, you somehow know he would actually do all that. 

‘Fine, tell me.’ 

‘It’s pretty simple actually. You’re not to go anywhere with at least one of us present, even inside the company.’ 

You make a face, but don’t interrupt as Jisung continues. 

‘If you need to go to the bathroom we won’t go in with you obviously, but other than that you shouldn’t be alone unless it’s in the comfort of your own bedroom of course. If you want to go out, just tell us in advance so we can scout the area if needed and make sure there’s enough security. When you want to go somewhere with Felix, Hyunjin or Minho, someone else still needs to go with you so your fans will know you always have a bodyguard.’

‘I’m sorry, I know I’ve asked this a million times already, but is this really necessary? You talk like I’m a fucking royal in line for the throne.’ 

Jisung shrugs. ‘Until Chan and Yoona feel the threats against you are down and there are no more assaults, yes we do think it’s necessary. I know it seems excessive, but trust me that you’re not the only idol who gained a team of bodyguards.’ 

Somehow that thought hasn’t even crossed your mind. It makes sense though, with the increase of accidents and violence against idols, especially the girl groups and solo artists. It’s insane really and it makes you sad to live in a world where people think it’s okay to act like this. 

‘I didn’t know that. I really need more friends in this idol world,’ you mutter, looking down at your hands. 

Sure you met other idols before and while you get along great with a few, they were all in groups and you always feel like the odd one out when you hang out with them. 

Chan comes back inside then, carrying two coffee cups and a brown bag. ‘I come bearing treats.’ 

You share a look with Jisung. ‘Bribing me with caffeine and food, huh I see how it is,’ you joke, remembering what you told Jisung earlier and loving how Chan’s lips immediately turn up in a smile. 

‘Don’t tell me you’re that easy,’ Jisung laughs next to you, poking your side. 

‘Yah!’ you squeak out. 

Jisung’s eyes sparkle. ‘Are you ticklish?’ 

‘No.’ your eyes widen. ‘You just startled me.’ 

No way are you going to let him know this weakness of yours. Besides, you can get crazy violent when someone won’t stop tickling you. You once kicked your uncle in the face when you couldn’t breathe anymore from laughing. 

‘Mhm, sure,’ Jisung grins, but he doesn’t try again and turns to Chan to grab the coffee. ‘Thanks Hyung.’ 

After your second coffee, Chan comes with you to your studio and you spend the rest of the morning working on your new songs with your headphones on. Occasionally you glance up to look at Chan, but never meet his gaze as he quietly works on his laptop. 

At first it goes well, you’re in a nice flow and happy with the results, but then you get to the song you’ve been struggling with for over a month already. There’s something missing, there must be, but you just can’t put your finger on what it is exactly. 

‘Ugghh,’ you let out a frustrated groan when you listen to it again, letting your head drop to the desk with a loud thud. 

There’s a headache developing behind your eyes and you blindly reach for your water bottle. Your fingertips touch the bottle, but it’s too far away to actually reach it. With another groan you lift your head and stretch your arm a little further. 

‘You doing okay over there?’ Chan asks from his spot on the couch, his voice sounding far away thanks to your headphones. 

‘Peachy,’ you reply, pulling the bottle towards you with a victorious smile. 

You pull your headphones down to hang around your neck, chug some water and then turn your chair to look at Chan properly. He’s already looking at you, a frown on his face and you can basically taste his disapproval. 

‘Don’t even try and lecture me on working this long without breaks and for not having proper light, I know this headache is my own fault,’ you say before he can even open his mouth to scold you like Faris usually would. 

He blinks in surprise, but then he lets out a laugh and nods. 

‘Alright, I won’t say anything, but do you want to tell me what’s troubling you?’ 

It’s your turn to blink at him now. ‘Huh?’ you let out dumbly. 

Chan laughs again and gets up from the couch, putting his laptop aside. He pulls out the second chair at your desk and sits down next to you, his head tipping towards your computer. 

‘You’re obviously struggling with something. Is it lyrics? The beat?’ 

Your first instinct is to snap at him, to tell him to mind his own business, but he’s looking at you so sincerely that you can’t help but sag your shoulders and give in. 

‘I’m not sure actually, that’s the problem,’ you admit, debating if you want to play the song for him or not. Faris did tell you that Chan, Jisung and Changbin used to make music. Fuck it. You’re going crazy if you don’t fix this anytime soon. ‘Would you like to hear it?’ 

The surprise is clear on Chan’s face, but he nods immediately and holds out his hands for your headphones. Nervous butterflies twirl in your stomach and with a deep breath you hand them to him before you can change your mind. He puts them on and gives you an encouraging smile. 

Biting your lip you press play and watch as his eyes widen when the music starts. It's a catchy beat and you can’t help but smile when his head starts to bop up and down. His face doesn’t give anything away and you nervously play with the bracelets around your wrist as you wait for him to finish. 

‘Wow,’ Chan says, putting the headphones down. ‘I knew you were good, but this..’ he shakes his head with a smile. ‘It’s really good Y/N, like really really good.’ 

You feel your cheeks heating up at his praise. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘I think I know what you mean though,’ Chan says and he points at your laptop. ‘May I?’ 

You frown and look between him and your precious laptop that holds all your hard work. 

‘I think it’s a very easy fix with the beat in the bridge,’ Chan smiles. ‘You can do it yourself, I just want to point out where I think it is.’ 

It’s clear to you he knows what he’s talking about and you’re curious to find out which part he means. You slowly push your laptop over to him and get rewarded with a wide grin. For the next hour the two of you work on the bridge, editing and adjusting the melody. Your cheeks hurt from smiling when the song keeps sounding better with every adjustment you make. 

‘You could be a producer,’ you tease, when Chan offers another idea to add to the song. 

A knock on the door causes the two of you to look up and you don’t know why, but you feel like a kid getting caught stealing candy. It’s not like Chan isn’t allowed to help you, but it hits you then what you’re doing and your body tenses anyways. 

‘Hyung? Noona?’ a deep voice calls out that you immediately recognize as Felix. 

‘Come in,’ you yell, quickly saving the progress of your song and closing your laptop. 

The door opens and Felix sticks his head inside, grinning when he sees you and Chan huddled together at your desk. You quickly jump up, causing both men to laugh at the panicked look on your face. 

‘No worries, I won’t tell Yoona or Minho you’re warming up to Channie Hyung,’ Felix smiles. 

‘That’s not it,’ you blush, turning around to grab your bag and water bottle. ‘I’m late for practice aren’t I?’ 

Felix nods. ‘Minho sent me to get you.’ 

You growl at the sound of his name and Chan snickers, standing up as well. ‘I’ll walk with you and get you some food seeing as you haven’t eaten anything since this morning.’ 

‘You don’t have to, I don’t think I can eat much before dancing anyways or I’ll feel sick.’ 

‘I have a banana in my bag if you want,’ Felix offers, rummaging around in his bag and holding up the yellow fruit for you. 

‘Perfect, thank you Felix,’ you smile, accepting the banana. You turn to Chan as you start to peel it. ‘I promise I’ll eat a proper meal after practice. You should have lunch, I’ll be fine with Felix here, right?’ 

You bite off the tip of the banana as you look at Felix and the blonde nods, his eyes flicking to your mouth for a moment before he blushes and looks at Chan. 

‘We’ll be fine Channie,’ he agrees with you. ‘It’s one floor down and Minho and Jin are already there warming up with the others.’ 

‘Alright, just keep an eye on Minho. These two are likely to bite each other's heads off,’ Chan sighs, patting Felix’s shoulder. 

You snort and take another bite of your banana. 

‘I’ll bite something else if he isn’t careful.’

a/n: I wanted to add dance practise to this chapter, but it already got way longer than I planned so next chapter it is ;) I really hope you still like it, even if it might move a little slow -i guess thats slow burn and a multi chaptered fic tho- big smooch to you all <3 taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @girl-in-love-with-kpop @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @corgilover20 @littlelostdemonofthelight @stephanieeeyang @zulie-and-cats @chanshugsaretherapy @pizzalove5000 @dazzlingjade @milie-com @thequibbie @channiesrightasscheek @strawbrriz @eastjonowhere @stellmeiv @bookishcaptain @flylis @deadpool15 @0325ale @thatgirlangelb @iknow-uknow-leeknow @nchhuhi @shycreationdreamland @readr1221 @beewilko

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

then and now

Summary: Jake Seresin and Bradley Bradshaw’s rivalry turned into a friendship over the years. You, Jake’s high school sweetheart, watched their bond grow from complaints about Bradley’s mustache to mutual respect, showing you how much Jake had changed.

warnings: established relationship, she/her used, no use of y/n, character growth (???), FLUFF!

a/n: happy new year!! my first fic of 2025...wow! i have had so much fun with this blog and thank you for all the love!! :) i hope you enjoy this cute little read!! <3

w/c: 960.

***

Jake Seresin’s career had taken him to some amazing places, but coming home to you was still his favorite.

He stood in the doorway of your shared home, his bag dropped on the floor with a thud, his khaki uniform slightly wrinkled from the long trip. The moment he saw you coming down the hall with that familiar smile, everything else faded.

“Missed me, sweetheart?” he drawled, the corners of his mouth lifting into a grin.

“Always,” you said, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. Jake chuckled, gently rubbing the small of your back.

As you stepped back, brushing his hair out of his face, you caught the tired look in his eyes. “Rough trip?”

Jake groaned, tossing his keys onto the entryway table. “Rough doesn’t even begin to cover it. Do you know who I got stuck with the entire time? Bradley 'stupid mustache' Bradshaw.”

Your brow furrowed and a grin lifted onto your lips at the newfound nickname. “Bradley? Goose’s son?”

“The very same,” Jake replied, running a hand through his hair. “He’s so smug. He acts like he’s God’s gift to naval aviation. Walks around with that stupid mustache like he’s in an ‘80s movie.”

You laughed, patting his chest. “You mean like you walk around acting like God’s gift to, well, everything?”

Jake’s jaw dropped in mock offense. “Hey, that’s different. I actually am God’s gift to everything.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head, but your smile gave you away. “What’s he done that’s got you so worked up?”

“Besides thinking he’s better than me at literally everything?” Jake started pacing, his hands gesturing wildly as he ranted. “He called me Hangman like it’s a bad thing, said I don’t have anyone’s back. Can you believe that? I’m a team player!”

You stifled another laugh, biting your lip. You’d known Jake since high school, long enough to know that his bravado was often just a cover for how much he really cared—about his work, his teammates, and, even when he wouldn’t admit it, his newfound rivalry with Bradley Bradshaw.

“You’re a lot of things, Jake,” you teased, “but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to actually try getting along with him?”

Jake scoffed, waving you off. “Not gonna happen.”

***

But over time, you watched that stance soften.

Years passed, and Jake’s stories about Bradley became less irritated and more… amused. By the time they were assigned to the same mission (and not just the occasional practice) in San Diego, the exasperation in his voice had been replaced with something suspiciously close to respect.

You caught on early, especially when Jake started calling Bradley by his callsign, Rooster. The first time he casually mentioned, “Rooster actually had my back in the air today,” you nearly dropped your mug.

“Wait, wait,” you interrupted, setting your coffee down. “You’re telling me Bradley ‘stupid mustache’ Bradshaw had your back? And you’re not complaining?”

Jake shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was trying to suppress a smile. “I’m just saying, the guy’s not entirely useless.”

“Wow,” you teased, leaning against the counter. “High praise coming from you.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but you could see the shift. By the time he was recounting the mission where he and Bradley worked seamlessly together to save their team, you knew something had changed.

“You know,” you said one evening, as Jake lay on the couch with his head in your lap, “I think you like him now.”

Jake groaned, covering his face with a pillow. “Don’t start, sweetheart.”

“I’m serious!” you insisted, laughing as you tugged the pillow away. “You two are practically inseparable now. Admit it—you’re friends.”

Jake peeked up at you, his green eyes soft. “I didn’t say we’re not friends. But don’t go telling him that, alright? I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

You laughed, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

***

The first time you saw Jake and Bradley joking together in person, you almost didn’t recognize them. It was during a barbeque on the beach in San Diego, the whole squad and their partners gathered around the fire pit.

Jake was standing beside Bradley, both of them laughing as they recounted some ridiculous story about their mission. The easy camaraderie between them was a far cry from the complaints you used to hear.

“Unreal, isn’t it?” Phoenix said, nudging you with her shoulder as she handed you a drink.

“What is?” you asked, though you already knew.

“Those two. They were at each other’s throats when this started. Now? Thick as thieves.”

You smiled, watching Jake throw his arm around Bradley’s shoulders, tugging him closer in a playful headlock. “It’s definitely been a journey.”

When Jake caught you watching, he grinned and motioned for you to join them. “C’mere, honey. Rooster’s trying to convince me he’s the reason we’re still alive.”

“Because I am!” Bradley called, holding up his beer.

You walked over, shaking your head fondly. “I can’t believe this. Jake Seresin, willingly standing this close to Bradley Bradshaw? I think I need to sit down,” you say, dramatically feeling your forehead with the back of your hand.

Jake rolled his eyes, pulling you into his side. “Don’t let it go to your head, darlin’. I’m just humoring him.”

Bradley smirked. “Yeah, okay, Hangman. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

As they launched into another round of playful banter, you leaned into Jake’s side, your heart full. Watching their friendship grow had been funny, sure, but it also reminded you of just how much Jake had grown over the years. From the cocky high school boy you fell in love with to the man standing beside you now, he’d built something meaningful—not just with you, but with the people who mattered most.

And if he occasionally complained about Bradley just to keep up appearances, well, that was fine by you.

[fushigurokogane]

~ Megumi Fushiguro Headcannons ~

hiii lovess~!! This is my first post on tumblr so BARE with me!! I hope you guys like these headcannons of our favorite EMO MANNN!!

~ Megumi is the type to show his love through actions rather than words. He may not be the most openly affectionate, but his protective instincts are off the charts. Whether it's making sure you're safe during dangerous situations or just being there when you need him, you’ll always feel his quiet support. If you're ever in a tight spot, he'll make sure you're safe without making a fuss. “Stay close to me. I’m not letting anything happen to you,” he’ll say with a calm but firm tone. If a situation arises where you’re in danger, he won’t hesitate to step in, reassuring you with, “I’ll handle this. You just focus on staying safe.”

~ When Megumi gives you compliments, they’re never over the top or cheesy. Instead, he’ll casually tell you, “You look nice today,” or “I like the way you think.” It’s not flashy, but it’s sincere, and you can always tell he means it. He doesn’t like to draw too much attention to it, but you’ll catch him giving you a soft smile and saying, “You look good today. Not that you don’t always, but today... it’s different.” Or, when you’ve just come up with a good idea, he might say, “I like how you think. You always know what to say.”

~ Megumi prefers quiet, low-key dates. Maybe a walk in the park, sitting at a quiet café, or going to a bookstore. He’s not one for big crowds or flashy outings, but he enjoys spending time with you in peaceful settings where he can focus on you without distractions. He enjoys the silence as much as the conversation. “I like this. Just us... no need for anything fancy,” he’ll say, glancing at you with a rare, warm smile. If you stop to look at something, he might add, “I’ll wait here. You take your time looking around.”

~ When you’re feeling down, Megumi is the type to sit with you in silence, offering his presence more than words. If you need someone to vent to, he listens patiently and gives sound advice without being too overwhelming. He doesn’t need to solve everything, but he’s there when you need him. He’ll sit by your side, saying, “You don’t have to say anything. I’m right here,” in a voice full of quiet support. If you start to share your thoughts, he’ll nod and respond with something like, “I know it’s tough right now. Take it slow, okay?”

~ Megumi respects your autonomy and space. He’s not the type to cling to you or act jealous. Instead, he’s supportive of your goals and interests, even if they don’t always overlap with his. He appreciates your independence and doesn’t feel the need to be in your business 24/7. He’ll reassure you, “You don’t have to check in every second. I trust you.” If you mention needing some alone time, he might respond with, “I get it. You need time for yourself. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

~ Though he’s serious most of the time, Megumi has his playful side that comes out around you. Whether it’s teasing you in a light-hearted way or showing off his random little quirks, he can be surprisingly fun once he feels comfortable. He might nudge you with a smirk, saying, “You really think you can beat me? Let’s see about that.”

~ Megumi is more in tune with your emotional state than he lets on. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, he’s the type to step in and help without hesitation, whether it’s through a comforting gesture or just taking care of things on your behalf. He doesn’t like seeing you stressed and will do what he can to make things easier for you. He’ll gently say, “You don’t need to carry all of that alone. Let me help.” Or, if you seem particularly stressed, he’ll comfort you with, “You’re stressed. I can see it. Take a breath. I’ve got it from here.”

~ He’s not one for grand gestures of affection, but Megumi has his ways of showing how much he cares. From the gentle way he touches your arm to the occasional shoulder rub when you're tense, his physical affection is subtle but full of meaning. When he holds your hand, it’s with a sense of quiet trust. He’ll offer his hand and say, “You can hold my hand if you want. I don’t mind,” or, in a quiet moment, “It’s just... I feel better when you’re close.”

~ Megumi isn’t the type to show jealousy openly. If he feels threatened by someone’s attention toward you, he’ll internalize it and try to focus on keeping his cool. But, if he gets too worked up, he might get a little more protective over time, making sure you're always by his side. He might downplay his feelings with, “Don’t worry, I’m not jealous. I just don’t like seeing you get too close to someone who doesn’t have your back.” If it continues, he’ll lean in and say, “I’m fine. Just... stay by me, okay?”

~ Megumi can be a little awkward when it comes to public displays of affection. He’s not someone who enjoys showing off his relationship in front of others, and he prefers to keep things low-key. However, in private, he can be quite affectionate in his own subtle way, like giving you a quick kiss on the forehead or cuddling up next to you during a movie. When you’re out together, he’ll say with a slight blush, “We don’t have to hold hands in front of everyone, but... I don’t mind when it’s just us.” After a kiss on your forehead, he might add, “Don’t read into it. I just wanted to do that.”

~ Megumi takes your words seriously, even the small things. Whether you’re talking about something that happened during your day or telling him about a random thought, he listens and engages with what you say, showing you that your opinions and feelings matter to him. When you share something on your mind, he’ll respond thoughtfully, saying, “That sounds like it was rough. What do you think you should do about it?” Or, if you keep talking, he’ll encourage you with, “I’m listening. Keep going. What happened next?”

~ When you're feeling under the weather or stressed, Megumi will step in and take care of you without hesitation. He’s the kind of boyfriend who’ll grab your favorite snacks, bring you water, or just stay with you, making sure you're comfortable and rested. He’ll come over and quietly say, “Here’s some water. I’ll stay with you until you feel better.” If you need anything else, he might add, “You need anything else? Just let me know. I’ve got you.”

~ Megumi respects when you need your own space. He doesn’t take it personally if you need time to recharge, and he uses that time to reflect or work on his own things. It’s not about distancing, but about understanding that being together sometimes means giving each other the space to grow individually. He’ll reassure you with, “I know you need some time. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” If you’re taking a break, he’ll tell you, “Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

~ Megumi finds peace in your presence, even if he’s quiet or a little reserved. Just being around you is enough to help him unwind, whether it’s reading together, having a silent dinner, or simply lying in bed beside each other. He appreciates the stillness you bring to his often chaotic life. He’ll look at you with a content expression and say, “It’s nice, just... being here with you.” On more quiet days, he might murmur, “I don’t need to go anywhere. I’m happy just sitting here with you.”

~ While he might not be the loudest or most expressive boyfriend, Megumi is the steady rock you can lean on. His consistency and reliability are a testament to his feelings for you, and no matter what challenges come your way, you can count on him to be there for you in his own quiet way. When times are tough, he’ll say with calm assurance, “I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.” Or, when you need reassurance, he’ll quietly tell you, “It’s okay. You don’t have to do it alone. I’ve got your back.”

DID YOU GUYS ENJOYYY??? I might make headcannon for yuji too!! So if you want one LET ME KNOWW!! ILY U SM POOKIES BAI BAIII~~!!

love, ✭ Nika ✭

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 17: No One From House Dellamorte Kneels

“The Crows abandoned me.” She said, shoving him off. “I just had the sense to go where I was welcome.” Viago shot to his feet, gesturing around the room. “Is this where you’re welcome, Fiammetta? Jeopardizing your life in a conflict you should have no part in? Parading yourself around a leader while-” HOW DARE- “Viago!” Lucanis snapped before Spite could break through. “This is not the time or place.” “He’s right.” Teia said, pulling Viago by the arm towards the courtyard. “Clearly the de Rivas have some things to work out, but right now, saving Caterina and stopping Illario is priority.” Viago worked his jaw as his eyes flitted between Lucanis and Rook.  HE DOES NOT LIKE YOU NEAR ROOK. DOES NOT LIKE US. “The meeting begins at dusk. In the Opera House. We’ll hold Illario’s plans off as long as we can until you arrive.” He tore his gaze away from Rook and stormed out of the kitchen, Teia casting an apologetic glance over her shoulder as she hurried after him. As the doors swung shut behind them, Lucanis grasped Rook’s wrist and drew her towards him. “He’s worried about you. Don’t take his words to heart.” “Too little, too late.” She said, wrenching her arm away. “Just get me out of here so I can kill someone who deserves it.” YES. GIVE ROOK - GIVE US - SOMETHING TO KILL. Lucanis pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose as he glanced in the direction of the courtyard.  “I’ll talk to Davrin. The others have too much going on right now. You should take some time for yourself. I’ll come get you when we’re ready.”  Out of respect, Lucanis pretended not to notice the tears pooling in Rook’s waterline. He walked to the courtyard, giving her a moment of privacy, despite how badly he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. He was going to throttle her cousin later.

Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x Spite???

Summary: Viago tours the Lighthouse, Davrin learns about Crow customs, neither Dellamorte ends the evening how they imagined, and Lucanis practices his brooding.

Word count: 5k

Things of note/warnings: 18+ fic, MDNI! This chapter contains content from Lucanis' veilguard quest, A Murder of Crows. Warnings for: violence, blood, Viago yelling. Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).

Read on AO3

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

“So my cousin makes you sleep in a closet?”

“I chose the pantry.”

Viago sat at the kitchen table in the Lighthouse, watching Lucanis pour himself his fourth cup of coffee that morning. He and Teia had wandered through the eluvian with news of Illario, and after last night, Lucanis had suggested Teia be the one to wake Rook up.

“Hm.” Viago drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully. “I suppose it has good choke points.” 

As he leaned against the mantle, Lucanis glimpsed his reflection in a pot hanging by the stove. Deep circles were carved under his eyes, evidence of his paranoia of Spite sleepwalking them into Rook’s chambers again last night. 

A few more beats of uncomfortable silence passed before Viago spoke again.

“You know, Teia and I broke up over that shit Rook pulled last week.”

“Just over Rook?” Lucanis raised his eyebrows skeptically, his voice echoing inside his mug. 

“I need to work on my tone, apparently.”

Lucanis swallowed and nodded, suppressing a grin. “How long this time?”

“Ten minutes.”

“A record,” Rook sneered, following Teia into the kitchen. She perched atop the table, her legs dangling over the side. “You have news for me?”

“Illario is making his move.” Viago said, sliding an envelope across the table to her. “An invitation. To celebrate our new First Talon and discuss the situation in Treviso. It came across my desk this morning. He’s hosting nearly every Crow House at Caterina’s villa.” 

“Cousin, you look so melancholy. I thought you loved parties.” Rook ignored Viago’s scowl as she drank from his untouched cup of coffee and turned to Lucanis. “Are we crashing?”

“This is our best shot at getting Caterina out. Then, we stop Illario.”

“All the Crows in one place.” Rook said. “I’m sure an abomination and the embarrassment of the de Riva household will be more than welcome.”

“Your poor decisions would have been easily forgiven had you not deserted Treviso entirely.” Viago interjected. 

Rook froze, slowly turning to face him. 

“Excuse me?” Her voice pitched higher as she slapped the invite down onto the table in front of him. “I’m fulfilling a contract fighting elven gods . I chased a dragon out of our city. Give me a fucking break.” 

Viago stared, unflinching. “You abandoned your family to take a contract I didn’t approve.”

“Vi…” Teia warned.

“I abandoned no one!” Rook snarled.

Lucanis shifted, feeling Spite bristle in reaction to her anger.

“Where were the Crows when my father lost his mind? When he drowned me every day as some part of his sick training regiment? When he beat you senseless for trying to protect me? When I was starving, because he poisoned what little meals we coud afford to build my immunity, until I was petrified at the thought of eating breakfast? ”

Viago remained silent, his fury simmering beneath the surface. Teia bit her lip and Lucanis set his coffee on top of the mantle, both moving closer in case they needed to arbitrate. 

“And then, when I made a well-intentioned mistake, my own cousin makes a mockery of me by having me serve as the First Talon’s glorified maid, all because he decided I needed to be made an example of!”

As Rook held Viago’s glare, Lucanis reached for her shoulder, pulling her several steps back. 

“The Crows abandoned me.” She said, shoving him off. “I just had the sense to go where I was welcome.”

Viago shot to his feet, gesturing around the room. “Is this where you’re welcome, Fiammetta? Jeopardizing your life in a conflict you should have no part in? Parading yourself around a leader while-”

HOW DARE-

“Viago!” Lucanis snapped before Spite could break through. “This is not the time or place.”

“He’s right.” Teia said, pulling Viago by the arm towards the courtyard. “Clearly the de Rivas have some things to work out, but right now, saving Caterina and stopping Illario is priority.”

Viago worked his jaw as his eyes flitted between Lucanis and Rook. 

HE DOES NOT LIKE YOU NEAR ROOK. DOES NOT LIKE US.

“The meeting begins at dusk. In the Opera House. We’ll hold Illario’s plans off as long as we can until you arrive.”

Viago tore his gaze away and stormed out of the kitchen, Teia casting an apologetic glance over her shoulder as she hurried after him. As the doors swung shut behind them, Lucanis grasped Rook’s wrist and drew her towards him.

“He’s worried about you. Don’t take his words to heart.”

“Too little, too late.” She said, wrenching her arm away. “Just get me out of here so I can kill someone who deserves it.”

YES. GIVE ROOK - GIVE US - SOMETHING TO KILL.

Lucanis pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose as he glanced in the direction of the courtyard. 

“I’ll talk to Davrin. The others have too much going on right now. You should take some time for yourself. I’ll come get you when we’re ready.” 

Out of respect, Lucanis pretended not to notice the tears pooling in Rook’s waterline. He walked to the courtyard, giving her a moment of privacy, despite how badly he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her himself.

He was going to throttle her cousin later.

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

“So, where are we headed?” Davrin asked as Rook pulled her blade from the heart of a Venatori mage.

“The Opera House. It’s…” Lucanis stopped in his tracks and scanned the rooftops on the horizon. “You know it’s across the grounds. In the guesthouse.”  

“Opera House?” Davrin echoed. 

“Caterina hosts galas there, Crow business. Those kinds of things.” Lucanis leapt down onto a balcony, motioning for them to follow. 

“No Opera?” 

“Rarely.” Rook interjected. “It’s a bit of an inside joke.”

“How?” 

“It’s ah….where we make people sing. If you catch my drift.” 

“Uh…” Davrin offered her a hand as she hopped across a gap between roofs.

“They interrogate people. Torture them.” Rook ignored his hand, landing safely on the rooftop beside him. Chivalry wasn’t dead amongst Crows, but underestimating a lady certainly was. Out of her periphery, she caught Lucanis observing with amusement as the warden awkwardly wiped his palm on his armor and muttered something to himself. 

“There.” Lucanis pointed out a tower with a stained glass window. “That will get us where we need to be.” 

“Estate’s pretty big already. Does it really need a second house?” Davrin asked. 

“It’s for guests.” Lucanis replied, as if the answer should be obvious. “You don’t think we’d just let them stay in our rooms? Risk them cutting our throats?”

“I had my own room in the main house.” Rook bragged, catching up to Lucanis on the next rooftop as they neared the villa. 

Lucanis smirked. “You were…special.”

Rook’s mood had lightened after a few hours of uninterrupted rest, but she was certain the second she was in the same room as her cousin and Illario, her fury would return. For the time being, she chose not to be bothered by Viago’s earlier comments. 

With a polite touch to the small of Rook’s back, Lucanis ushered her ahead onto a fallen beam between platforms. 

“After you.”

She nodded graciously, holding her arms out and stepping carefully across. 

“I get it. He can be a gentleman because he knows all your bird customs.” Davrin grumbled, balancing precariously on the walkway behind them. “Remind me why we couldn’t just go through the front door?”

“Rook already tried that. It didn’t end well for her.” Lucanis said, earning himself a jab to the ribs as she passed him. “Besides, there’s no way my cousin would let me in-”

“-HE FEARS US. GOOD. HE SHOULD.”

Rook slipped inside a broken window, descending over stacked crates and barrels to the landing below. As they arrived at a gate, Lucanis pried some freshly placed boards off the secret passage to the villa.

“I had to come back and conceal the escape route again after you tried to die here.” He said as Rook shot him a questioning look. “I thought I was the only one who knew about it. I found it playing as a boy.” 

“I found it when I left the villa. Illario doesn’t know it’s here.” She said, effortlessly slipping through the narrow passage. Lucanis followed her, Davrin grunting as he squeezed himself inside.

They crept through the cavernous tunnels until they reached the underbelly of the house in silence. Rook pressed an ear to a pair of wooden doors, listening carefully to a conversation on the other side. 

“They mentioned an old woman.” She relayed, closing her eyes to better make out their voices. 

Lucanis scowled. “Caterina.”

“Must be a difficult prisoner,” Davrin mused. 

“She’s difficult in any scenario.” Rook mumbled, earning herself a glare from Lucanis. He cracked open the door before motioning them on. In a blur of violet, he advanced ahead, running his blade through two Venatori standing guard in the hall.

“Ugh. Illario let them in here?” He wrinkled his nose, wiping his sword on their clothes as they choked on their own blood, “I’m going to have to have the entire place cleaned.”

His footsteps were silent against the intricate marble flooring as Lucanis led them through the villa. White sheets covered the furniture and sculptures, just as they had over a year ago, albeit dustier. 

“This is your home?” Davrin asked, looking around from floor to ceiling. “No wonder your cousin wanted to inherit.” 

“I lived here until I was 18. Caterina made us get our own homes after that. But she still kept rooms for us. Ilario abused that privilege. Insufferably.” 

Spite inhaled deeply. “Home? Smells like dust and linseed oil.” 

“Don’t say that when Catrina is in earshot.” Lucanis chastised him.

“So, Rook, what was so bad about that cushy assistant job?” Davrin asked. 

“Illario.” 

“TRAITOR.”

Lucanis motioned them towards the den. “Caterina’s room is up here.”

Slowly and soundlessly, the three ascended the stairs. At the top, Rook pressed her back to the wall, peeking around the edge. Two Venatori were stationed outside Caterina’s door, bored and yawning. With an outstretched hand, she delivered a swift electrocution to one, stunning the guard beside them in time for Lucanis to cut their throat, discarding the body into the corner. Davrin nodded, his mouth forming a line as he watched them work. 

“The door is barred from the inside.” Rook said, tugging on the handles. 

“I’ll go first.” Lucanis said, pulling her aside. “If my grandmother is in there, better she strikes me with that cane than you. I’m at least used to it.”

He leaned back and delivered a swift kick to the doors. They swung open, revealing Caterina’s room precisely as Rook remembered it, save for the mess of broken furniture that had been served as a barricade. As Lucanis stepped inside, his hopeful expression dimmed, finding it empty, but out of the corner of her eye, Rook caught a flash of amethyst just above his head. Before she could open her mouth to warn him, he caught the First Talon’s cane before it made contact with the crown of his head. Lowering her weapon, his face fell, as if he’d seen a ghost. 

“Caterina?” He breathed.

“Lucanis! My poor boy.” She lamented, kissing both of his cheeks affectionately. In shock, he returned the gesture vacantly, going through the motions before shoving a hand in his pocket. 

“I believe you dropped this,” He said, handing Caterina the opal ring she had slipped under the door to signal Rook of her presence. The two exchanged a somber look before she slid it onto her middle finger, kissing Lucanis’ cheek again before her eyes fell upon Rook. 

“Fiammetta. You kept your word and returned my grandson to me.”

“You can thank me later. Right now, we should get you to safety before we stop Illario.”

“Do not speak about me as if I cannot fend for myself! Have I not survived these Venatori on my own?” Caterina snapped. “There’s no time for heroic nonsense. I will come with you.”

“Illario is reckless, Caterina. Don’t make Lucanis lose you all over again.” Rook pleaded. 

The old woman squinted, assessing both Lucanis and Rook before giving a resigned grunt.

“Go.” she grumbled, appraising Davrin as she pushed past him out the door. “I’ll meet you in the Opera House.” 

Lucanis flashed Rook a faint smile.

“Welcome back to House Dellamorte, De Riva.”

She took his hand in hers, running a thumb across his knuckles. “It’s good to be back.”

He clasped his free hand over hers affectionately, searching her face intently.

“When this is over I-”

From the hall, Assan rushed in, inspecting every corner of the room. Lucanis’ smile faltered as Davrin entered behind the griffin, clearing his throat.

“I thought we were in a hurry.”

“We are,” Rook said, dropping Lucanis’ hand. “Come on, we can scale the window to the gardens.”

Rook bristled as they stepped inside the Opera House. It was ominous, as it had been the night she’d been misled to kill an innocent man. Since then, she had been to Crow gatherings in the space, but never under such grim circumstances or with the knowledge she now possessed about Illario’s motives.

Chatter and whispers traveled through the stairwells from above. Nearly every Crow in Treviso must be present tonight. If things didn’t go their way, it was certain death for her and Lucanis.

“Caterina’s death was a tragedy.” Illario’s voice echoed through the building as Rook and Lucanis dispatched two Venatori in the Opera’s anteroom. “But to get Lucanis back from the dead, only to lose him to a demon? For me? That is a deep personal loss.”

At her side, peering through a crack in the door, a low rumble escaped from Lucanis’ throat as he gritted his teeth. 

“Keep your head…” Davrin urged. 

“And so I take the mantle of First Talon with a heavy heart.” Illario continued, “But the Crows will rise from the ashes-”

Lucanis rose to his feet. “I’ve had enough of this.”

“Do you even have a plan?” Rook hissed.

“Knives are involved.” He replied as she followed him. 

“-with our new Venatori allies, we could claim Antiva-”

“Over my dead body!”

Illario turned, his eyes narrowing the sight of his cousin kicking open the main doors. Behind him, Viago and Teia exchanged a glance as two other Talons unsheathed their blades. 

Cutting his fingertips on the Crow brooch upon his breast pocket, Illario drew a red haze of power between his palms, making Rook’s stomach roil with dread. 

“That could be arranged.”

Several Venatori stepped from the shadows, and the remaining Talons drew their swords. Rook quickly worked to assess who would side with them as she cut through a Venatori on her right. Teia and Viago were a given, and Bolivar, Sixth Talon, usually sided with the Dellamortes, but tonight, it was impossible to tell: Which Dellamorte did he consider the true heir? Could any of the Crows in this room trust a Dellamorte after this?

“Yield!” Illario commanded, summoning his reserves of blood magic. 

“You can’t…overpower…us both!” Lucanis gritted out, Spite’s wings unfurling behind him. The crowd gasped collectively, and Illario’s smug expression wavered.

“Now you fall.” Spite and Lucanis snarled in unison. 

“You should have stayed dead, cousin! All of this is on your head!” Illario roared as he unsheathed his blades, one clashing with Lucanis in an instant. 

“You started this, cousin.” Lucanis said with a cloying sweetness. “I’m ending it.”

A Venatori blade nearly hooked Lucanis from behind, and he turned to engage them. Rook pointed Davrin towards the rest of the incoming Venatori as she stepped between the Dellamorte cousins, not allowing Illario to get the upper hand. His face slackened as she swiped at his middle with the sword he’d gifted her so many years ago. 

“Keeping your grandmother locked in her room?” Rook demanded, dodging his half-hearted attempt at cutting her. “What is wrong with you?”

“It was for her own good.” He seized her by the wrist as her free hand attempted to drive a dagger into his ribs. “I would have never harmed her.”

“Damn it, Fiammetta!” Viago barked from across the room. “Do not let him get the upper hand!”

Rook ignored her cousin, freeing herself from Illario’s grasp with a flick of her wrist, just as her father had taught her. 

“Was poisoning me for my own good? Did you know I would have died without Viago’s intervention?”

“I never wanted to hurt you-”

“Or how about your alliance with Elgar’nan?” As she threw her blade at his face, Illario dodged, turning to watch it lodge itself in the wallpaper and rip a line through the ivory embellishments. “You know he wants me dead, right?” 

“Fi-”

She silenced him with a slap to the face. Illario’s hand came to his cheek, pressed against the red flushed skin there as he returned his gaze to her slowly, a lethal look in his eyes.

“You were one of my oldest friends.” She snarled, “I trusted you above so many others. And you lied to me. Betrayed me. And Lucanis! Your own blood . Your ambitions really know no bounds.”

Illario threw her against the wall, knocking the wind from her.

“What I did, I did for the Crows!” 

He pinned one hand above her head, the dagger in his other hand hovering over her neck. 

“You did it for yourself!” Rook shrieked. 

Just above Illario’s shoulder, she watched as Lucanis dispatched three Venatori, desperately trying to reach her. Illario followed her gaze and, with a cry of frustration, thrust Rook ahead of him, blade pressed to her throat. 

“Stop!” He shouted, wrapping an arm across her torso and walking her to the center of the room, as if she were a human shield.

Lucanis threw aside the final mage he’d been fighting just as Viago leapt from the Opera stage. The two met them under the grand chandelier, weapons drawn, while Davrin checked over his shoulder as he and Assan continued pushing back the remaining Venatori.

“You don’t want to make an enemy of me, Illario.” Viago advised, circling them. “Let my cousin go. Don’t do something you can’t take back.” 

“You decide what happens next!” Illario warned, his blade digging further into Rook’s skin. 

“You think you’re in too deep, Illario,” Rook murmured as she felt a single bead of blood run down her neck. “But you can still fix this.”

“Stop talking, Fiammetta.” He hissed, but his hold relaxed, giving her room to breathe. 

“What’s your endgame here?” Rook asked him, “Because Lucanis doesn’t want to kill you, but Spite will. This little standoff only lasts as long as I’m alive. Harm me, and it’s all over for you.”

“Maybe that’s your problem, Fi. You’re on a first name basis with my cousin’s demon.”

“I tried playing nice.” Rook said, slipping one hand through the crook of his elbow and wrapping her fingers around his knife. An electric current danced up to the hilt, causing Illario to flinch, and his grip on her to falter. Blood stained her palm as he recoiled, inadvertently slicing open the skin where she held his blade. Illario shoved her forward to break the static that surrounded them, and Rook tumbled to the floor, leaving a trail of crimson handprints as she scrambled backwards. Viago bent and pulled her up, fingertips digging into her shoulders as he restrained her, keeping her from intervening.

Lucanis approached his cousin, pointing the tip of his sword at his heart.

“I’ll kill you for that.” He growled.

Illario scowled, clutching his chest as he fought to steady his pulse, falling to his knees. 

“So I’ve heard.” He said through clenched teeth, “What are you waiting for, cousin? Finish what you start.” 

Spite’s wings disappeared behind Lucanis as he sheathed his weapon with a look of contempt. He gestured to the Crows leaning over the balcony with bated breath, the Talons standing with disappointed expressions behind him. 

“I already did. What am I ever going to do that is worse than this? On your knees? In front of every house?”

Illario stared at the crowd, jeering and booing from above. Hope and malice faded from his features, replaced by the sting of humiliation. 

“Get up, Illario.” Caterina commanded, her cane falling on the floor with a resounding knock between each step as she entered the room.

“Caterina!” Teia cried, “Thank the Maker!”

Viago released his hold on Rook, yanking Illario to his feet as the First Talon stood over her grandson, disgusted. Both hands poised atop her cane, the bejeweled eyes of the carved Crow head beneath her fingertips stared directly at Lucanis. 

“No one from House Dellamorte kneels.”

Rook felt a pang of empathy for her old friend. He looked like a boy again, scolded for playing in the gardens too roughly. Proven inferior to his cousin, once again. 

“He’s your family.” Rook moved to Lucanis’ side, resting a hand on his arm. “You said he was all you had, besides Caterina…”

“That was before you.”

Lucanis drug a hand over his face and sighed.

“But you’re right. He’s family.”

Illario scoffed.

“You think you can show me mercy? That’s not up to you, is it? Caterina is still First Talon.”

“Enough, Illario! Lucanis is the new First Talon.” Caterina announced over a roar of cheering from above. “His decision stands.”

Both Dellamorte cousins’ faces fell in unison. Whether or not Caterina intended for it to be, Illario’s loss was a punishment for each of them. What one desired most in the world, the other desperately had tried to run from. 

Lucanis schooled his expression into something focused, commandeering, void of the remorse and aching etched there moments ago.  

“Viago. Keep him out of trouble.” He directed.

“I’m no miracle worker,” The Fifth Talon said, tugging Illario aside, “but I’ll see what I can do.”

Illario leaned towards his cousin as he was escorted from the premises.

“Lucanis…” he taunted, holding out each syllable.

“Don’t.” Lucanis voice was hard and clipped. “Not now.” 

Caterina walked slowly to a nearby table, picking up a goblet of wine and passing it to her grandson. Reluctantly, he stared at it in his hand, panic flickering across his face as he lifted his head to meet Rook’s stare. Before she could react, a glass of wine was shoved into her own hands, and Teia began making a toast. Rook’s ears rang as she watched Lucanis swirl his drink, lost in his thoughts.

“To Lucanis!” Davrin called out with a proud smile. Well-intentioned as their friend was, something about the way everyone raised their glasses, the way Lucanis brought his wine to his lips like a death sentence, made her want to choke. She mimicked a drink, and discarded her goblet, watching from the perimeter of the room as Lucanis was congratulated by each Talon, save Viago, who was likely giving Illario a beating somewhere between here and the casino. 

Davrin joined her on the wall, wine in hand and Assan at his heels. 

“I thought you’d be happier for him.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Does this make you Queen of the Crows or something?”

“This isn’t what he wants.” Rook whispered, voice catching in her throat as she watched Lucanis smile and nod in a sea of congratulations.

All those years of Crow training, just to feign happiness.

“In that case, try not to be offended if I don’t stick around to celebrate. Those Venatori landed a few good blows on me and I’m ready for a hot salt bath.”

Rook nodded and gave an appreciative, thin-lipped smile as her friend disappeared. In silence, she observed the party from afar until she was interrupted by a scraping sound against the marble floor beside her. 

“Dellamortes, get all the praise.” Caterina muttered, tapping Rook’s shin with her cane. “Come. Walk with me.”

Suggestions were never optional with Caterina, and knowing better than to decline, Rook uneasily followed her out the patio doors to the gardens. 

They strolled past the rose bushes and sat on a stone bench under a willow that was not native to this area of Treviso, but that Caterina had insisted to have imported decades ago. Rook had to admit it was thriving here. 

“Do you recognize this opal?” Caterina asked, slipping off her ring. Rook took it gingerly between her thumb and forefinger, letting its iridescence catch in the moonlight.

“It’s the same gem Lucanis stole and gifted to me when we were children.” She smiled softly, her breath rising in the fog as she spoke. “I still remember the look on my father’s face when you came to our door.”

Rook passed the ring back to Caterina, and she held up her hand to decline, shaking her head.

“Keep it. I’ve outgrown it.” She said firmly. “Consider it a token of my appreciation for saving my grandson, and myself.”

“Caterina! I can’t possibly accept this.”

“You would insult your First Talon by declining a gesture of her gratitude?”

“To be fair, you just gave that title to Lucanis.” Rook knew she was in dangerous territory, but felt bold enough to test the waters. Riling Caterina was a risk, but one with an amusing payoff.

“Precisely. I gave him a title. He knows I won’t retire until long after he buries me.” 

Rook carefully slipped the opal over the ring finger on her right hand. So strange how it found its way back to her, given the circumstances.

“Maybe I was too soft on Illario. I stoked the fires of his resentment by favoring Lucanis to take my place. But I knew Illario would never be cut out for Talon. He was prone to fits when he didn’t get his way and spent too much time fretting about what was fair or unfair. In the Crows, there is no such thing as fair.”

Caterina lifted her head towards the stars and frowned, as if they shared her disapproval.

“From a young age, Lucanis always saw the world for what it was. He would cry for dead birds in the garden, and then wipe his tears and bury them under this willow tree, because he knew it needed to be done. He has an impeccable talent for leaving no job unfinished, even when no one is watching. His internal compass is strong, where Illario’s is easily led astray.”

Rook remained silent. It was rare that Caterina was talkative, and rarer that she showed even a glimmer of regret.

“I was hard on Lucanis, focused my lessons on him because I needed him to have what it took to survive. Being First Talon doesn’t just make you a target, it makes the people you love targets. Lucanis showed exceptional talent and caught the attention of the other Crows even as a boy. Whether or not he wanted my title, I needed to ensure he’d survive long enough to turn it down.”

Uncertain Caterina would let her live to regret it, Rook spoke anyway. 

“You hardly gave Lucanis an opportunity to say no, announcing his change in rank before every Crow in Treviso.”

Surprisingly, Caterina’s cane remained firmly planted on the garden cobblestones.

“Sometimes we are burdened with things not because we desire them, but because we are the best person for the job. Lucanis will make a good First Talon precisely because he does not want it.”

“You knew?”

“I knew. Illario was talented in charming people, but being skilled in manipulating others put him at risk of being manipulated himself. My grandson could change his colors to suit whatever person or situation he needed them to, because his own identity was so unstable. Lucanis is who he is. He’s a lethal assassin, and an excellent Crow, but he cannot resist doing what he believes is right.” 

Rook blinked, certain she’d been poisoned when Illario’s blade nicked her throat, and that she was hallucinating this entire exchange. 

“I will not insult you by telling you your parents would be proud of you, Fiammetta. I think you already know that. And we both know it’s not their approval you desire.” Caterina continued, “You are like Lucanis in many ways. You did what you felt was right, and when you made a bad call, you accepted your punishment with your head held high. You never complained. You paid your debts, and you moved on. You accepted the role of leader against gods, because it needed to be done. Your cousin believed you were neglecting your responsibilities, abandoning your family, but wherever your battles lead you, you will always embody the spirit of a Crow.”

She rose to her feet and nodded towards the manor. 

“Come. My grandson is spying. I think he’s worried I’ve brought you out here to kill you.” 

Rook glanced towards the Opera House, where Lucanis was brooding against a foggy window pane, hands buried into his pockets.

“The guest room is as you left it. Several of the gowns in the closet belonged to my daughter-in-law. She was about your size. We might be assassins, but there’s no reason to be covered in blood at a party.” She said with a wink. “Rest assured, she fitted all her clothing to be suitable for an ambush. You’ll be at no disadvantage.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Rook assessed the opera house floor as she descended the staircase, dressed in a sleeveless black gown that took her nearly half an hour to lace herself into. Caterina wasn’t joking - the dress fit her like a second skin, and she could kill someone in this ensemble just as easily as she could in her leathers. The trouble would lie in getting it off. Wearing heels, against her better judgement, Rook decided to allow herself the enjoyment of one last Dellamorte soiree.

A dense crowd surrounded Caterina, Teia close to her side. Even though former First Talon had opted for the party to continue despite the disgrace her grandson had made of himself, everyone present was on edge. Repairing the distrust between Houses would take time, but at least the First, Fifth and Seventh Talons still had faith in one another. And, at the end of the day, Crows never really trusted one another.

“There you are.” 

At the sound of a familiar voice, Rook’s footstep faltered on the final stair, and she caught herself on the guardrail as a hand slipped around her waist.

“I’ve been looking for you.” 

[fulcrums501st]

people are talking about how Ekko should have been a counselor (and I agree) but I doubt Piltover would have given Zaun more than one representative out of the goodness of their hearts. (Especially cuz I doubt them even giving them one). I think they would have more likely sought out any sort of Piltover leadership they could, before going to a Zaunite

I think more realistically (had the Arcane magic multiverse s2 stuff not happened) is after the council blows up and half of Piltover’s leadership is dead or after some final escalation in the Piltover/Zaun conflict that causes them to rerun to the negotiating table, the council offers Heimerdinger his seat on the council back, instead of negotiating with an actual Zaunite (like Ekko), cuz the council has realized they have issues but not enough to actually respect Zaun or its people. Like the council goes back to Heimer to fix their own problems governing, not cuz they now have empathy for Zaun. It’s still rooted in their own classist priorities. Or maybe even Jayce or Mel feels bad about what they did to Heimer so they’re the ones who had the idea idk. Anyway, the council ofc assumes Heimer will jump at the opportunity cuz they look down on the undercity.

But then Heimer, having learned that he is centuries out of touch and is not actually fit to govern anymore (cuz of his time with Ekko/firelights), gives up his council seat to Ekko who is young and in touch and already proven to be a good leader and caretaker of people.

Idk what politics Heimer would have to play to do this but if the council in s1 gets to be corrupt and kick Heimer out then I think Heimer can exploit a loophole to give Ekko his council seat (give the council a taste of its own medicine, for funzies).

I think that would have been a well rounded arc for Heimer, he was unjustly booted off the council, but he comes to understand that others more like Ekko and unlike himself need to lead, so he gives up the power he could have gotten back for the sake of giving Zaun a better shot to enact actual change (instead of yk, waiting centuries for it). It’s also a more realistic way for Zaun to maybe get some more seats on the council than just Sevika cuz we know Piltover don’t gaf about them.

And then I think Ekko would refuse at first and be like “council doesn’t do shit, I can do way more good here with the firelights than playing politics” and then Heimer’s like “and that’s precisely why we need someone like you on the council” or something idk

Sometimes the best thing we can do with power, is know when to give it away.

[thunderandsage]

pre-arcane caitvi: or fuck, why i am voluntarily reading league of legends lore

so there’s been a lot of effort to preserve a lot of viktor and jayce’s old stories, bios and dynamics, but not so much for the other characters??? i don’t play league, but i still feel it’s cool to look at older versions of these characters as an “alternate universe” kind of thing

so, here they are for Caitlyn and Vi (all info from the official league of legends website):

Caitlyn Kiramman

top: LoL Caitlyn, bottom: Arcane Caitlyn

“To be the best hunter, you have to be able to think like your prey.”

Renowned as its finest peacekeeper, Caitlyn Kiramman is also Piltover’s best shot at ridding the city of its elusive criminal elements. She is often paired with Vi, acting as a cool counterpoint to her partner’s more impetuous nature. Even though she carries a one-of-a-kind hextech rifle, Caitlyn’s most powerful weapon is her superior intellect, allowing her to lay elaborate traps for any lawbreakers foolish enough to operate in the City of Progress.

Bio

Short story “The Thrill of the Chase”

my notes:

very different from arcane caitlyn, what with supportive (and both alive) parents, and especially this line:

“Her mother […] would always warn Caitlyn of Piltover’s seductions, and its gilded promises that could harden the kindest heart”

so it’s a caitlyn who is also focused on keeping piltover in line—could be an interesting avenue to explore with post-canon arcane fics?

definitely a happier timeline for her

Vi

top: LoL Vi, bottom: Arcane Vi

“We can either do this the hard way or… Oh wait, no. There's just the hard way.”

Raised on the mean streets of Zaun, Vi is a hotheaded, impulsive, and fearsome woman with very little respect for authority. She has always been a shrewd survivor, both from her youthful troublemaking topside and an unfairly long stint in Stillwater Hold. Now working with the Piltover Enforcers to keep the peace instead of breaking it, she wields mighty hextech gauntlets that can punch through walls—and criminals—with equal ease.

Bio

Short story “Interrogation 101”

my notes:

so this backstory seems to line up more with arcane vi, but then comes the line in the short story:

“as if he was talking to the old Vi, the Vi from the Lanes. He wasn’t bright enough to know that Vi wasn’t the one standing in front of him”

so what i’m getting is this idea of a vi who’s divorced herself from the undercity, in a way arcane vi’s hasn’t?

and i have… conflicted feelings about this, since arcane vi is shown to be very caring and protective in contrast to this iteration—like the closest she is to the original also coincides with her being depressed, while lol vi just overall… doesn’t seem to care

(but at least being hella gay for cait is a constant across universes)

(also who isn’t to say we can’t dig into the tragedy of a vi who’s lost her connection to home?)

Bonus - screenshots of the bios if you want to stay on tumbr

Caitlyn

Vi

Also the art that inspired this whole thread of thought:

[trustmypoison]

Stray Kids with a therapist!partner

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘I absolutely loved the little drabble/reaction that you did for Seventeen on if their s/o was a teacher, so I was curious if you would be willing to do something similar and horribly self-indulgent for me? Would you be willing to do something similar for either Seventeen, Ateez, or Stray Kids on if their s/o was a therapist or working to become a licensed therapist?‘

Is really fascinated by how easily you seem to be able to give great advice - Hyunjin, I.N.

I don’t think you could be in that sort of career and not naturally be pretty good at giving advice. It’s not that he wants to make you work outside of work or anything, but he really values your perspective on things, particularly because of the experience you have. So sometimes, he’ll approach you and ask what you think about a situation that he or one of the members is going through. Trust that he knows how to read the room and not ask on a more taxing day, but you really are his first thought when he runs into a problem.

Worries about the downsides, such as burnout and vicarious trauma - Chan, Han

It’s very clear when you’ve had a hard day because you’ll come home and just need some time to space out. I’m talking about taking a super long shower (which he knows you do sometimes to sneak a good cry in during) or just going straight to bed, though you aren’t sleeping. If you don’t self-isolate, you can still be pretty distant on those days. He’ll do what he can to comfort you, but there are so many things you can’t really tell him details about. Now and then, he’ll ask if you really like your job and want to continue with it because he worries about how it impacts your own mental health sometimes. 

Encourages you to continue your education and specialize in something you’re passionate about - Minho, Seungmin

I know where I live, licensed therapists have to do some continuing education every year. But if you have an interest in a particular topic in therapy, he’s encouraging you to focus on it and perhaps start specializing in it. It could be trauma, or learning disorders, or addiction, etc. It doesn’t matter to him as long as it’s something that you really enjoy. If you get another certification or degree, he magically always has a frame for you to put it in. I fear everyone that he’s ever met knows he’s dating someone who has what he considers to be a really important and special job. 

Respects that work often drains your social battery and helps you recharge - Changbin, Felix

These guys seem pretty extroverted, but even the most extroverted people still need a little downtime to recharge. So when you come home on a Friday afternoon after a long week and ask to stay in, he totally gets it. He understands that you’re spending a lot of your social energy on your work with your patients and don’t have much to give when it comes to going out for dinner or drinks or anything else really. Really doesn’t mind camping out on the couch with some takeout, a bunch of blankets, and a movie. 

[meelusinee]

JUST A CALL AWAY | R.B X READER

word count \ 2.8k | fluff and stuff | slash / regulus black x reader

in which you teach regulus how to use a phone, and he asks you on a date author's note at the end!

A LITTLE LOAF SERIES MASTERLIST

JUST A CALL AWAY | REGULUS BLACK X READER

You were closing shop in your bakery by the time 2 o clock rolled around, the counters and floored cleaned and bread placed inside the fridge.

Your mind had been racing the entire day thinking about Regulus.

He seemed like a rather nice guy, all things considered. You didn’t know much about him, though he didn’t know much about you either. Maybe you two could become closer after this, though you weren’t sure how much about you he was truly going to understand. He didn’t even know what a phone was, something you would have to teach him.

You found that you didn’t mind it that much.

The door’s bell rang as it opened, your eyes darting up to look who had walked in. A smile grew on your face as you recognized Regulus’ face from yesterday, eyes skimming over his outfit.

Regulus was wearing a long sleeve shirt with ruffled sleeves, similar to something you might see a vampire wearing. He had a blazer laid over it, though it wasn’t wrapped around his arms. His pants were black work pants, with a corset belt wrapped around his waist and large boots on his feet. It was an outfit you didn’t expect to see him wearing, though one you quite liked nonetheless.

“Hey.” he said softly as he walked up to the counter, a small smile on his face.

“Hi there Reggie!” you smiled brightly, before your face turned into a more pensive expression. “Do you like the name Reggie?”

Regulus’ face grew a bright pink tint, much easier to see from his pale skin. “I don’t mind it.” he whispered, voice cracking near the end.

“But do you like it?” you asked him.

Regulus seemed to think about it for a moment, looking down at the counter before nodding. “I do.”

You smiled brightly, jumping up once before walking out from the counter. “Reggie it is!” you smiled brightly. “Now, let’s go get you a phone, grandpa.”

“Grandpa?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Grandpa!” you smiled brightly at him.

The both of you started to make your way to the phone store, which you said was a medium length walk from the bakery that you worked at. His body walked close to yours, although he kept a respectable distance still.

“What do you do for a living?” you asked Regulus curiously. He assumed that you wanted to find out more about him, especially since you didn’t know much about him to begin with. All you really knew about was his name and what he looked like, though not much after.

“What?” he asked you, clearing his throat. “For a living?”

“Yeah.” you said to him, a small smile growing on your face. “Like work.”

Regulus looked at you for a short moment before looking at the sidewalk, clearing his throat. Looking at you seemed to be like a death sentence for him, his heart stopping every time his eyes even glanced at your face. “I don’t have any work right now.” he mumbled quietly, shrugging his shoulders. He couldn’t really say that he worked for an evil Dark Lord that . “I just moved here.”

“Oh, you did?” you asked him, looking around at the different stores. “You could become a jewelry seller. You seem like the type to know all about that.”

Regulus smiled softly at that. “I do like jewelry,” he whispered. 

You seemed to read him like a book, like his whole entire soul was open for you to read for your entertainment. He seemed more scared at the fact that he didn’t mind the feeling, something he knew he might regret later. 

“Maybe you can sell me a ring.” you winked at him, bumping your arm against his.

He blushed at that, the thought of you in a ring that he got for you in some way bringing a large flush to his face. “Maybe one day, yeah.”

“What would you want to do for work?” you asked him curiously, looking up at him. You seemed genuinely curious about anything about him, something that warmed his heart more than he could imagine. “If you could choose anything to do.”

Regulus thought about it for a moment while he walked, not really sure himself. He had thought about it for a long time, a release from his home. He thought of being an Auror for a moment, though he quickly got rid of that idea. Potioneering was something he was good at, though not something he could exactly explain to a muggle.  

“Maybe writing,” he whispered under his breath, quiet as he thought. “I like writing, but it’s rather intimate. I don’t know if I’d want people to read it.”

“That is true.” you said, humming softly before a teasing tone took over your voice. “Maybe you could try working in my bakery? I bet you’d sell cake pops in three seconds!”

“I doubt you’d want me to work there.” he chuckled quietly, smiling softly at you. 

“I feel like I can trust you more than a lot of people who want to work there,” you said, a small but genuine smile on your face. “Which, you’d think is weird, right? We met just yesterday.”

“Maybe we just match better than most people do.” he replied, blushing after suggesting that. “Maybe.”

“Maybe we do.” you smiled at him, playfully nudging him before looking up. “Here we are!”

Regulus looked up at the store they stopped in front of. Inside were a bunch of boxes with small icons on it, pictures and icons that he couldn’t exactly describe to himself. 

“These are,” he muttered, looking at one of the phones as you both walked in. “Pones?”

“Phones, yes.” you smiled softly, looking up at him. “You can buy a phone, right?” you asked him.

“Probably,” he mumbled. He had wealth under his belt, money he could easily sneak out of Gringotts despite the fact his parents probably thought he was dead. He was still the Heir, after all. Kreacher had transferred a lot of his Galleons to Muggle currency as well, which meant he had quite a bit of cash on his person.

“Good.” you smiled brightly. “As much as I’d love to pay for you, they’re extremely expensive. I can barely afford my own right now.”

“Are they?” he asked confusedly, looking at the price of what seemed to be a higher quality one. It seemed to be a similar price to a high-end owl, which made sense in his mind.

“Yup.” you said. “But, even if you can’t buy one right now, I can still teach you how to use them.”

Regulus looked up at you before nodding. Even if he wasn’t sure whether he’d even use one or not, he still wanted to hang out with you. He wanted to be closer to you, in any sense of the word.

“Let’s find you one!” you smiled brightly.

Regulus had been dragged around for about 10 minutes as you expertly profiled him for a phone. He ended up with an Iphone in his hand, a newer model but not the newest.

“Okay,” he mumbled confusedly, holding it in his hand. It was the weirdest shape he had ever felt. “And how do you use it?”

“Well, let’s go one by one.” she said to him. “Firstly, how to turn it on and off.”

You held his hand as you helped him turn it on and off, teaching him the difference between just pressing the button and holding it down. You taught him how to make calls and send messages, your body close to his.

It was a beautiful feeling.

“Do you know how to navigate this?” you giggled softly, looking up at him.

“No,” he mumbled quietly, watching you hover even closer and help him.

“You can drag down from here to access notifications and stuff,” you explained to him, hand pointing to the top right corner. “You drag down here for the control panel. Like your flashlight.”

“A flashlight?” he asked confusedly. He had no idea what a flashlight was.

“Yeah!” you smiled softly, dragging the control panel down and clicking the flashlight button. He looked at the other side of the phone, realizing it was like a Lumos charm.

“That makes sense.” he whispered.

“What were you thinking of?” you asked curiously.

He shrugged, not sure of it himself. “I’m not sure.” he whispered softly, looking at the phone with a mix of bewilderment and confusion. 

You giggled softly. The giggle was quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds, something that he could repeat in his mind when thinking about anything good. He wished that he could hear it for longer, maybe forever.

Maybe one day.

Regulus had bought the phone as soon as you gave him a basic tutorial on it, his hands holding it hard as he tried to figure out things himself.

You decided to sit outside in the park with him while he figured it out, giving him your number so he could text you whenever either of you wanted. He figured out how it worked relatively easily, and you figured out that he typed grammatically correct. A little bit different than what you were used to, sure, but something you couldn’t blame him for.

The sun was setting beside the both of you, which made his face glow under the sunset lighting. He was rather beautiful, if you were to say so yourself.

“So you can type a sentence with these buttons,” he mumbled, his French accent thick as he pointed at the letters. “And then you press send to deliver it. Like a letter?”

“Kind of like a letter.” you smiled softly at his confusion. It was definitely adorable. “But it sends a lot quicker. And you can see me typing back in real time too.”

“That’s,” he whispered softly under his breath. “Rather cool, actually.”

You smiled brightly, not realizing just how amazing a phone really was. You were used to it being a daily thing, but you found yourself truly being amazed by how impressive it was by his response. “It is rather cool, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” he whispered, before nodding and pocketing it. “I think I’ll figure it out more later.”

Your smile softened at that, not wanting him to leave just yet. You had loved hanging out with him, even if it wasn’t really that long. Maybe five hours was long for most people, but you felt like it had only been for a couple of minutes with him.

“Does that mean you’re leaving?” you asked. You didn’t want to seem desperate.

“Do you want me to?” he asked quietly, his eyes staring into yours. “I don’t mind staying.”

“Do you want to stay?” you asked.

He paused for a moment before looking down at the ground, his face lighting up in a wide shade of pink. “I’d like to, if you’d allow me.” he whispered under his breath. “I enjoy your company.”

You felt your cheeks heating up a little yourself, but chose to ignore it. “I enjoy yours too.”

“What do people usually talk about?” he asked. As far as you knew, he didn’t have any friends.

You shrugged, not really sure yourself. “What do you think about this park?” you asked.

Regulus looked up and around the park, analyzing anything his eyes landed on. “That tree is an Oak tree,” he mumbled. “And I like the moss on the tree next to it. Some people call it old man’s beard.”

“Really?” you asked, looking at the moss he was looking at. It definitely earned its name, the color and shape reminding you of an old grandpa who complained about the economy and had a 2 hour storyline about how long his trip to school was. “I can see it.”

“I can too.” he smiled softly, leaning forward from where he was sitting. “That Magnolia tree reminds me of you.” he whispered, looking over at you as he spoke. 

You smiled softly, looking over at him. Your heart started to beat rather fast, a warmness growing on your cheeks. “Does it?” 

“The color,” he whispered. “And its warmth. It reminds me of your bakery.”

You looked over at the flower before back at him and smiled brightly, “I don’t really know how to say thank you to that.” you whispered softly to him. “But still, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, smiling softly. 

The two of you wandered around the park for some time after. He pointed at things and explained them, all while you listened and clinged to his arm. It was a rather intimate moment.

“Thank you for this,” you whispered as he walked you home, a small ice cream cone in your hands. He bought you one on the way. “Seriously.”

“It was nothing,” he smiled. “I liked this.”

You smiled back, a small flush heating your cheeks. “We should do it again.”

“We should.” he mumbled quietly, his hand squeezing yours. 

You smiled softly, patting his head. He said his goodbyes and you went inside, finishing your ice cream and laying down on the couch.

You hadn’t been able to relax much since you got back, your body going between phases of pacing and tiredness. Your fingers flicked through your contacts, finding your best friend and calling them.

“Y/N?” they asked confusedly. “What are you calling for? You rarely call at this time.”

“I am freaking out, that’s what!” you said excitedly, sighing softly. “I’ve just found my dream man. Like, seriously. I need to find wedding rings.”

“Woah, calm down.” they chuckled softly. “Start from the start, okay?”

So you did. You explained everything, from the moment you met him to your hang out today. You explained how easily flushed he’d get, his aesthetics, how much he seemed to love nature and literature. You explained anything and everything you could, breath running short by the end. “I think I’ve fallen in love, seriously.”

“Seriously sounds right.” they chuckled.

Your best friend said something, but you didn’t register it at all. Regulus had texted you.

You opened the message and smiled just as wide as the lot of times you did around him. It was a sweet message, one that made your heart ache.

REGULUS: Thank you for listening to me talk today. I really enjoyed hanging out with you today. I would love to do it more often, if you would like.

REGULUS:  Again, I’m very sorry for talking your ear off. I’m not the best at talking to people, especially how I did today. I’m sorry if that has inconvenienced you. But you make me want to try.

Your cheeks flushed wide at the message, especially at the last seven words.

“Y/N?” your best friend asked. “You there?”

You nodded, before realizing that they couldn’t see you nodding. “Yeah, I'm still here.” you muttered. “He texted me. God, he’s so sweet.” 

“Well, what’d he say?” they asked. You sent them a screenshot of what he said, smiling brightly at their loud squeaking sound. “I know, right?”

“Marry him, right now!” they said excitedly. “But you need to text him back first!”

“I’m getting there!” you said excitedly, typing out a response.

YOU: hi again reggie!!! i really enjoyed listening to u talk, i really don’t mind it. u sound really nice whenever u ramble like that, so don’t ever stop!

YOU: thank u so much for today <333

You smiled as you watched Regulus type, giggling at his utter confusion on your typing style.

REGULUS: That is the oddest way of spelling I have ever seen.

REGULUS: I don’t mean that to sound rude.

You giggled softly at his clarification, sitting on the couch and kicking your feet happily. God, you were already falling hard.

YOU: u don’t need to use proper grammar or spelling on text!!! i like typing like this :D

REGULUS: Is that a smiley face?

YOU: it’s my favorite :D i don’t like emojis much

REGULUS: Noted. They do look ugly.

You smiled widely at that, hugging your pillow and kicking your feet again and again. Your phone had started to get a couple of notifications at a time, your heart bursting out even more as you read his new messages.

REGULUS: Really though, Y/N. Thank you for hanging out with me today. I really enjoyed it.

REGULUS: Maybe we can hang out tomorrow? I’ve heard that there is a nice restaurant down the street, and I would like to take you.

REGULUS: Unless you’re busy, or this is too forward.

REGULUS: I don’t want to irritate you.

YOU: i don’t think u could ever irritate me. and yes, i would love to go to that restaurant with you <3

YOU: call it a date!

You squeaked softly as you sent the message, smiling as he agreed eagerly. It was really happening. 

You were going on a date.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thanks everyone for reading!!! i've been writing a bundle lately, so i think that this is a pretty good thing for me? i've written maybe 6-7k words in the past two days, so that's fancy. dno't really have many other things to say about this other than that tho unfortunately

AS ALWAYS - please like, comment, and reblog! love u <3

[lalilaloli]

So, I’ve been thinking and just had to get this off my chest. The reunion between Athena and Odysseus. Just like the majority of the Epic fandom, I was left heartbroken after that scene. I wanted more. I wanted a reunion which reunited their friendship. Instead their reunion was bittersweet at best. Some fans have even criticised how it was written and claimed that Odysseus was ungrateful and acted like an asshole when he didn’t accepted Athena’s olive branch with open arms (no pun intended! I repeat, no pun intended!). But can we give the man a break? When Athena left him, 10 years ago, they parted on very bad terms. Athena had then been Odysseus mentor for how long? 15 years? 20? Odysseus trusted her. Admired her. Both as a goddess, as a mentor and as a friend. Then came Troy. A war he didn’t even wanted to be a part of. A war which lasted for 10 years. And then came the murder of the infant. That was the beginning of the end for Odysseus. That was when he started to break. He never forgave himself for that. And Athena condemned him for that. Not for the killing but for his regret, his conscience, his heart. Instead of showing the minimum of empathy or support she simply told him to focus on his mind, not his heart. That he was suppose to be a warrior of the mind. Not the heart and that he couldn’t expect any sympathy from her. Already then the respect and friendship Odysseus felt for her started to crack. Because Odysseus wasn’t a war machine with a cold heart. He didn’t want to be that. Then all hell broke loose with Polyphemus and the death of Polites. His best friend, the one which encouraged Odysseus to be a good man, to show mercy and love. Now, was Odysseus an idiot in how he handled the situation? Yes. He made 2 gigantic mistakes (let Polyphemus live and tell him his real name) we can all agree on that. He should have listened to Athena but Athena had (unknowingly for her) already damaged Odysseus trust and respect for her. Odysseus was heartbroken, angry full of guilt and the goddess he loved and trusted now only seemed to treat him like a thing. According to her should listen to her, man up, shut up and stop being a crybaby. That’s not how a friend acts. So he was hurt, angry and just as disappointed in her as she was in him. In their goodby she threw their friendship in his face and clearly showed him what a fool he had been. So now had Odysseus not only lost his best mortal friend, he now lost his friendship with Athena and also found out that she didn’t even consider them to be friends. That for her he was only a protege, a failed student, and the things that made Odysseus a man, his heart, his conscience, his warmth, his empathy, was useless and only an weakness.

Now 10 years later Athena and Odysseus has gone 2 completely separate ways. Odysseus has been through hell. He has forced himself to become a monster. The last thing he wanted to become. The complete opposite of the man he once was. He done things he never can forgive himself for. Just to be able to come home to Penelope and Telemachus. We don’t know what Athena has been up to but she certainly has been in to some soul searching. That’s obvious in “We’ll be fine”. She has understood that what she and Odysseus had was friendship. That she does care about him. And that she might have done some misstakes in her past. Something which is probably quite difficult to swallow for a goddess. But Athena has grown and matured.

When they finally meet again they’ve both changed. In a perfect world Odysseus would take Athena’s hand and they once again would be friends. But Odysseus has been through hell and back. To get home he has sacrificed everything, even himself and his own humanity. He turned into a heartless monster without mercy. He turned into something that is no longer the man he once was. He turned into somebody he’s no longer sure Penelope can love. He no longer believes that the man Odysseus exists. That the only thing left is the monster Odysseus. He has lost himself and he’s terrified. Now Athena stands in front of him and ask him to try again. For his friendship, for them to make the world a better place. But he can’t. How could he? How could he now that he’s a monster? A man full of shame. And he so, so tired. He doesn’t want to be a warrior anymore. He doesn’t want to continue fighting. He just wants to be a husband and a father. And he believes that he’s change so much that he’s not even sure that Penelope even can love him again. So he can’t take the outstretched hand Athena offer him. Even if he wants to. He’s too broken. Too exhausted. But… I still believe that we shall se this as an open ending. A comma instead of a full stop. Odysseus is not ready to be Athena’s protege again, he might not even be ready to rebuild their friendship right now. But I think that Athena’s words when they reunite affects Odysseus emotional and mental healing. The knowledge that Athena is there, that she believes in him and that she cared. That she always did even if she didn’t admit that even for herself. Because Odysseus needs healing and he needs time. Time for once again be that man who believed in goodness and mercy. The man who was Athena’s friend. And, when you hear the softness in the voice of Athena’s final words to Odysseus, she knows it too.

So can we please give the poor man a break?

[jkftkth]

i really do wonder what a bts comeback will mean and does every member have a plan figured out for themselves.

fan accounts going awol when some members were exploring their artistic individuality and only now resurfacing because a group reunion is closer - it makes you think. was there ever even an artistic connection? or was it more about what has been sold to the audience over musical talents - an entertaining family dynamic/bond fans can project onto. fitted roles where a member is only likeable if they’re playing it just right.

2024 changed my feelings for good on where i think i belong, and there’s probably little that could happen for me to want to be part of bts’ fandom again.

firstly, there’s only so far you can go being a fan of tae and having to witness on a daily basis the level of disrespect he faces from both company and fandom no one else has. when you see quite literally the worst of the worst, day after day, but it’s only a limited amount of fans who voice concern and make actual space for the exclusive severity of it all to be acknowledged and discussed and questioned…you either stay and pretend it’s not happening/it’s not “the actual worst” because it’s impossible to satisfy every fan, orrrrr—

i mean, everything until up to now has been with the intent of a) making us fall for the brainwashing so we stop advocating for him as an individual, or b) exhaust us into quitting being his fan so his label can turn around and say to him hey look—why did you think you could make it when no one likes you?

and i obviously believe other members are a victim in their own way too. because you would have to be living under a rock to not see that hybe does not respect its idols as workers, as money makers, and as humans. neither does it protect most of them, the actual opposite for specifically taegikook and so a fan of the group or not, anyone would naturally want better for hybes idols across the board because they deserve better than staff badmouthing them in official reports and on online platforms.

of course there are other reasons i’ve had enough, such as contractual fan service being pushed so much whilst at the same time fandom reactions being intensely watched and made note of to the extent labels are out here monitoring fanfiction and assigning tropes to members and not caring what type of delusion and hate that cultivates??! to the group motto of “us is always before me” being celebrated, to fandom not actually caring about idols’ rights, to fandom falling for a dirty pr firm’s media manipulation/fabrication so easily, to hybe basically being in all fandom spaces with their dumb ass bots to sway opinion, to i mean the list goes on.

i don’t think i’d call myself bitter, or a hater, or a “solo.”once they return i’ll feel relief for all of them that that chapter of their life is over and they came out safe and sound (🙏), but i confess i have little excitement for a group album because group songs mean one thing for fans of tae and group arrangements always do the opposite of wanting him to shine and group entertainment is hard to enjoy when you know there’s a script running more often than not at his expense.

a tour? well i know there’s sincerity in how important performing is, and it’ll probably mean a lot after 18 months of being forced away from that, so it will be nice to see them doing what they find enjoyable yes. do i look forward to the exerting schedules for the sake of making up for hybes financial losses? do i look forward to the billionaire continuing to rip them off while he carries on riding their success as his own?

i know there are contracts. i know idols’ rights are a topic of concern and few are willing to talk about it and make a change. i know their industry can get really manipulative really fast as soon as they step out of line and that can lead to a really dark reality. i know there’s always a bad guy in the story. i know the group is still important and loved by tae (and jk), i know he wants to think the best of the group’s fandom because he is still a group member, i know i’ll support him wherever he goes but like

it’s just hard to forget the least three years and stay unaffected.

[yonderghostshistories]

Is it just me, or is it kinda weird that Monty Python has never been parodied that much in pop culture, or at least not as often.

Now, what I mean by that is that I’m not talking about MP’s sketches and/or famous & well known characters getting parodied in pop culture, no no no, I’m talking about THE PYTHONS THEMSELVES.

Hell I can’t even think of people who can do impressions of the Pythons THEMSELVES (aside from John Cleese cuz ofc he’s the more “well known” member ig)

Like i don’t think even Family Guy itself has made a cutaway gag that was smth like oh idk uhh

“hey Lois, remember the time that I did [X] with the Pythons”

[cut to Peter Griffin hanging out with the Pythons (who are themselves voiced with somewhat decent voice impressions of the Pythons) doing [X] thing]

maybe I’m blanking on some other examples, but tbh the only thing that parodied the Pythons themselves that I actually remember is this one Harry & Paul sketch from a few years ago, as shown below :

(it is very funny sketch tbh ngl)

But even then, the sketch iirc only parodied John Cleese, Michael Palin and Terry Jones. Like it leaves out Eric Idle, Terry Gilliam & Graham Chapman for some reason.

Like the Pythons were like the Beatles of Bizarre Comedy in terms of how influential they both were in their respective fields (The Beatles for Music and The Pythons for Comedy).

I bring this up because UNLIKE the Pythons however, the Beatles themselves have probably been parodied TO DEATH over the centuries/decades like OMG.

Again, this is just my personal thoughts and incase if I am indeed blanking on some examples of the Pythons THEMSELVES getting parodied, do let me know said examples in the comments/tags/reblogs!! I’d much appreciate it fr!!

[ariaofsorrows]

why the hell are people in my life so hellbent on projecting things onto me? i promise you that i don’t care about as many of the things that everyone is making a big deal out of. am i so mysterious that you all have to make fanfiction about me to my face? am i such a blank slate that you have to make shit up you so can pretend that i’m someone that needs help and some “fixing”?

[arolesbianism]

Beginners guide to my Jackie and Olivia universe thoughts except the handwriting might be kinda unreadable so idk figure it out