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best-seungkwality · 3 days ago

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love to hate you

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: freshman mishaps led to the relationship you had with ellie today, but you don't know the other feelings she harbored for you.

contains/warnings: swearing, flirting, ooc fluff for ellie maybe? (but she was also so sweet in some scenes so cmon), enemies to lovers, college!au

word count: 2.7k

author's yap notes: i haven't actually immersed myself in tlou universe but like ellie's kinda cute or sumn and it takes a lot to inspire me into writing so im gna take advantage of this LMAO also i know abby n ellie r enemies but this is an au pls dont shoot me

would like to give credits for the dividers ofcc: c saradika, magnusthemes here in tumblr!

the sound of clicking against keyboards rang across the hall where your economics class was being held that early in the morning. honestly, it should've been banned to take such a complicated subject at an ungodly hour, and you haven't even began with the professor you got for this class. the only thing nice you got from this experience was being friends with someone as reliable as abby anderson.

"class dismissed."

abby was not the friendliest out there at first glance-- heck, you would've steered clear of her your whole college life if she didn't approach you first to make friends since she was in a different class from all her friends. you were just thankful you had someone to suffer through the class with at this point because you would not have survived otherwise.

if you were anything in college, you were the fastest campus leaver. but this was economics, a class where you actually had a friend to hang out with after enduring the lecture. only, you weren't feeling the extroverted introvert you were today, so you were already racking up your brain for some excuse to abby to go straight to your dorms while you two were on your way out.

"hey, n/n, raincheck on lunch today. need to meet up with someone for another project," abby told you, slinging her backpack on while messaging someone on her phone.

she truly was an angel in disguise. she made the excuse for you even without knowing you needed it.

"oh, no problem. was thinking of staying in in the dorm anywa-"

"abby, hey."

you looked over your taller friend's shoulders and saw the infamous ellie williams sauntering towards you two with her usual slightly grumpy expression. you clicked your tongue in annoyance, seeing the one person you hoped you wouldn't bump into at least this week. it was hell week in your department already, and you thought the fates had spared you because it was already friday, but you guessed they were saving their worst surprise for last.

"ah great," you mumbled under your breath, but abby still managed to catch it. she chuckled at the switch of expressions on both her friends' faces once they had seen each other and took a step back for their usual greeting-- or square off.

"what are you doing hogging abby again, princess pansy?" ellie stuck out her tongue, pocketing her hands.

you narrowed your eyes at her and attempted to slap her shoulder, but she was quick on her feet and moved away seconds before you could even land a finger on her hair. like a child, she repeated her earlier gesture, making abby step in front of you to block you. with your hands balled like that, she was sure you were about to commit a violation just to get even with ellie’s taunts. abby was well aware of your goals of graduating with latin honors, and there was no way she was going to let you waste that on a sick punch on ellie, no matter how much she wanted to see it.

you huffed and turned to look at abby instead, pretending that there was no ellie williams trying to annoy the hell out of you. “i seriously don’t know how you’re still friends with that loser.”

“you’re the loser!”

abby playfully pushed ellie aside for a moment before replying, “she’s rough around the edges, but she’s nice, trust me.”

a scoff left your mouth before you shook your head and muttered your goodbyes to your friend before walking away, ignoring ellie’s last words like a new agnostic to jesus.

you actually thought ellie was truly nice when you first laid your eyes on her until she proved that that stopped at her features (yes, you weren’t going to lie and say she didn’t look good— she was hot, for goodness’ sake). she had become your sworn enemy one day when you were partnered up randomly for a pairwork in one of your common general education subjects. you had tried your best to include her in the project and get her to help, but you would only see on her facebook stories that she was either clubbing, drinking, or doing other shit college students did. you had a social life too, but you would never inconvenience anyone for it unlike her.

that was why you thought it would be best to save all the receipts you had on her, deliver the report on your own, and submit the written work with the proof that you indeed tried your best to get ellie’s cooperation until you had the right to give up on her. the professor accepted your reason and didn’t dock off points on the rapport criterion, but ellie had other qualms. she had the audacity to object to what you had done, claiming you didn’t try enough, but your proof were too solid versus her claims, so ellie had failed that requirement and needed to take removals.

she confronted you about, and you two ended up bickering at the back of one of the oldest buildings in university so that neither of you would be documented. but even when the fight was kept hidden, it eventually became known in school because ellie had decided to humiliate you one lunch, telling people about how you threw her under the bus. being unable to deal with the public humiliation, you ran out of there and swore ellie williams was nothing to you, no matter how hot of a person she was. she was an asshole to you forever, end of story.

you entered your shared room with a scowl on your face, bringing out your laptop and opening up a streaming site to watch modern family. you deserved to cool off with your comfort sitcom before delving into the pile of homework you had to do for the day.

ellie typed furiously on her laptop, mind still fresh from her encounter with you yesterday. it annoyed her so much that she couldn’t even cram her lab report with abby in peace, and the deadline was in two hours! god, if she could just get in your face and-

she froze. she knew exactly where that thought was already headed before it even finished. she groaned out loud, even more annoyed this time, which caught her friend’s attention. abby raised an eyebrow, but she simply let out a ‘tch’ and tried to continue filling in the tables with values she knew were going to yield an extraordinary error. she just couldn’t get you out of her mind even if she wanted to— even if you loathed you. there was something about you and your little interactions that excited the hell out of her that she felt she even loved to hate you because of it.

she wanted to punch herself. that was gradeschool ellie discovering she liked women. why can she not get a grip now?

“i don’t know how you put up with miss uptight two days a week. i can’t even stand her for a minute,” ellie began, eyebrows furrowing, but she wasn’t sure whether the frustration was towards her missing the deadline or the girl that would not leave her head.

“still thinking about her, i see,” abby teased, humming a romantic tone right after. “just admit you’re down bad and would like her on your bed, el.”

her head shot up, face obviously distressed at what she just heard. “gross! grow up, abby.”

abby rolled her eyes and looked up from her screen. “you grow up. you obviously have feelings for her. you can fool anyone but me. you like y/n.”

ellie felt that she was getting too red, so she shut herself up first before she could say something that abby would obviously know how to retort at. it was like she was an open damn book whenever this certain friend of hers was around. maybe it had to do with the fact that they went through shit first before becoming people they feel could be relied on. that, or ellie was really just that easy to read.

“what even happened that y/n hates your guts that much?”

she stopped typing and slumped down in her seat. “i messed up little miss perfect’s sched then humiliated her for it.” she sighed at abby’s raised eyebrow. “i promised to help with one project we were partnered up for, but i was a stupid freshman who just wanted to have fun, so she ended up adjusting her whole month to do everything by herself. i hated how she ratted me out because i thought that was so uncool in college, so i humiliated her in a college cafeteria. are you satisfied?”

her friend shrugged her shoulders. “nah. i haven’t heard the part where you said you were sorry. and why you still hate her.”

ellie pulled the hood of her jacket up and then on the strings to squish the clothing over her face, hiding in embarrassment. “i act like i hate her. it’s the only way i can talk to her now. i haven’t really said sorry too.”

abby laughed, making her jaw drop slightly in offense.

“she was right. you’re such a loser.”

speaking of who was right, ellie, from the corner of her eyes, saw you dragging yourself into the same library they were in. (she hated how automatic it was for her at this point to catch her silhouette). apparently, her college’s library was your favorite library, and she couldn’t blame you. it had good comfort rooms, chilly ac units, endless charging ports, working areas for all kinds of people, and you could bring coffee in it.

she watched the girl begrudgingly walk towards one of the desks for sharing, making sure you got the outlet that came with it. it seemed to be your spot because knowing you somehow, you would need optimal conditions to work.

“who- oh, your crush is here,” abby cheered quietly, making ellie clamp a hand over her noisy mouth. they nonetheless got the stare from the young librarian, who seemed to be stricter than the senior librarians. they both nodded their heads in apologies before ellie could look over to where you were again.

“you should talk to her. ask her if she wants coffee or something, cos she’s not looking too good.”

abby looked at her like she was nuts. “why are you ordering me around as if i’m your servant. go do that, since you’re so lovestruck and concerned for her.”

“isn’t she your friend?”

“yeah, but she needs a lover more.”

“shut up!”

ellie groaned, planting her face onto the laptop, not minding how much it hurt. these moments reminded her how much of an ass abby could be to her. but it looked like she wasn’t going to budge in her seat, because she was now back to typing away on her laptop.

hesitantly, she got up and walked towards your table, trying to act confident even though she knew you might eat her alive with your smart mouth. god, you could just e-

she shook her head, hoping those thoughts would be gone too. she was standing by your table, hoping as well that she didn’t look that much of a creep from an outsider’s perspective. your back was facing her, since you were face down and probably resting for a bit before locking in for whatever you had to finish. ellie mustered her courage, took in a huge breath, then tapped your shoulder lightly. she became a bit bewildered when you had not responded to the fifth tap, wondering if you had supersight at the back of your head to know you should be ignoring the person bothering you.

but she noticed how limp you hand had gotten, and her eyes widened, rushing to your other side. if she had not seen a person passed out medically, she wouldn’t have been able to tell that y/n probably blacked out from some reason, but thankfully, she knew. within seconds, she had already scooped you up and gathered you in her arms, with abby shouting in the library what the heck she was doing, but she could care less. you were her priority.

that was why you looked like hell the moment you entered. your dark eyebags confirmed that you probably overexerted yourself, leading to the blackout. she knew you were a high achiever, but she didn’t know you were a stupid one. how could you let your academics take control of your life to the point that you would sacrifice your health? she was going to have to speak to you about this when you were better. preferably the moment you woke up.

but right now, she had rushed inside the infirmary and laid you down on one of the beds. a nurse thankfully came to check on you at once calling the doctor to diagnose what was wrong. after pacing around the medical professionals, ellie heard them say that you were very dehydrated and decided to inject IV fluids in you to aid your body. they quickly got to work so you could recover faster.

ellie thanked the doctor and nurses and sat down beside you, taking your hand. “god you fucking scared me,” she muttered under her breath, bringing your hand to her cheek. “for someone at the top of your classes, you’re awfully stupid.” she didn’t realize her scolding would happen even before you woke up.

“you’re seriously gonna be the death of me. i can’t even take care of you the way i want to until your unconscious,” ellie looked at you worriedly. “god, let me take care of you, stubborn-head. give me a chance, i’ll make everything right. i sound like a pussy. i just like you that much, okay.”

your eyes fluttered open at the confession, locking them with hers at that moment.

“…what?”

ellie dropped your hand and stood up at once. “what?” she covered her face in embarrassment, immediately turning red. “how are you awake so fast?”

your eyebrows crossed. “do you want me to stay half-dead or something?”

“no! i meant- ugh, i’m not prepared for this.”

“for what? for declaring your love for me?”

ellie gasped, looking offended. “i didn’t say ‘love’ yet!” she pointed at you as if accusing you of something. “ugh, you’re so annoying.”

you sat up with a small smile, and she knew you knew you had the upperhand in this situation. this was just turning out to be the worst week ellie had had. if she knew you were going to here her random confession, she would’ve prepared some more. you just had to be awake right now.

“well, sorry,” you said, deflating a bit. ellie panicked once again and finally sat down. she took your hand gently and let out a breath.

“i’m sorry, just-…” she looked you in the eyes (this is so cheesy, she hated it) and hoped the sincerity would reach you, “i’m sorry for what happened during freshman year. i was stupid, and i can’t take that shit back. but i’ve liked you for the longest time, and god knows this stupid little crush has made me daydream about you at least thrice a day, and i guess what i’m saying is— god, will you be with me? even if it takes some time?”

you smiled wryly. “the famous ellie williams rambling… i could get used to this.”

ellie groaned out loud and smushed her face into the infirmary’s bed. but she was just hiding her smile because she herself didn’t know that someone could make her ramble stupidly like this. you were well aware of your power over her too.

“look at me ellie.” like a pet, she did. “i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t attracted to you. i honestly would like to like you, but we have to do so much work, especially that i don’t feel that resolved yet with what happened back then. i know you felt like i blindsided you, but i suffered a lot even though i know i did nothing wrong. it’s gonna take a lot of time. are you willing to put in that kind of work with me?”

ellie brought your hand to her cheeks again. “no doubt about it.”

a wide, genuine smile finally broke out your face. “alright. i love to hate you, but i’d like to love you only now, williams.”

she returned the gesture, giving a light kiss on your knuckles. “love to hate ya, but i love to love you more, princess.”

#wlw #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #lesbians #getit

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bitchkay · 3 days ago

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This whole fic series altered my brain chemistry.

🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track five: the battle of the bands

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, alcohol, DOGGOS, yuji literally is just a ray of sunshine 24/7, mentions of drunk driving, so much fluff, ridiculous amount of kissing tbh, short time skip at the end, FINAL CHAPTER! || sfw. 8.8k words.

FOR THE FIRST time in a long stretch of busy days, you wake up not to the chirp of your alarm but to soft rays of Saturday morning sunlight seeping through the cracks in the blinds, painting your eyelids orange-gold. You crack an eye open and find Takuma stirring beside you. Right.

“Morning,” you whisper. For a moment, when Takuma opens his eyes, he looks surprised, and then he seems to remember why and how you got here and his expression melts into a soft smile.

“Morning, Skip.” He yawns. “Time’s it?”

You shrug. You’re pretty sure your phone is dead.

“Eh, it’s Saturday,” he mumbles. “S’fine.” You chuckle, daring to reach out and ruffle his hair. You don’t know what this is, the unspoken thing in the thin slice of air between you. You know what you want it to be, though.

For a while you both lie in comfortable silence, letting the sounds of the awakening house float up the stairs toward you. Murmuring, clattering around in the kitchen, the front door opening and closing, cars outside.

“Hey,” you say eventually, making eye contact. His eyes are a very deep shade of brown, dark but warm in a way that reminds you of old bookshelves or tree bark after the rain.

“Hey back.”

He’s relaxed, every part of him unhurried, and you take the image of it and stamp it into your mind over the memory of the night prior. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Takuma smiles. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Maybe it should be more awkward, the fact that you’re here in his bed in his clothes and you haven’t named whatever it is that stretches out in the silence. But it’s not. It’s just… easy.

“Skipper?”

“Hm?”

“I really, really like you,” Takuma whispers. The words wrap themselves around you, warm when you didn’t know you were cold.

“Yeah?” You bring a hand up to his face, trace the line of his jaw. His cheeks are a little colored in the mix of light slipping through the window and the cracked door. “I really, really like you too, Takuma.”

He cups your face in both hands, pulls your lips to his, and your whole body responds, pressing up against him in the too-small twin bed. Your hand goes to hold the back of his neck, deepening the kiss, and this is what people write love songs about, you fucking get it now, all the metaphors and cliché words you thought were exaggerations but no, they’re not, because you’re feeling all of them all at once and you don’t ever want to leave this moment in time.

“Like” doesn’t feel strong enough, not for this. You’ve only known him for a month. Is it really possible he’s already become so integral to the structure of your heart?

You’re kissing in the early morning light and it’s hungrier than you thought your next kiss would be, because even though all the rest of your days are rolling out before you, you don’t know how many there are. He twists so he’s above you on his knees, one of them between your legs, and it’s like a reversal of that night on the roof, like you can feel the night air even in the golden midmorning hours.

“Kuma,” you murmur between kisses, and he grins against your mouth, takes your next breath and makes it his.

At some point you’re interrupted by the startled growl of your stomach, and you break apart, unable to stifle the giggles rising up in your throat. “Well.”

“Well,” Takuma echoes, grinning. He stands and offers you a hand. “Breakfast?”

Downstairs, the house is alive with idle chatter and the clinking of silverware. Kirara is seated atop the counter, legs swinging as she eats a plate of eggs, and Hakari stands beside her leaning against the cabinets. Megumi scrolls absently through his phone at the table, the dogs looking up at him expectantly from either side, and Yuji is digging through a bunch of take-out boxes. When he sees you, his whole face lights up.

“Morning!” he practically sings. “Here, eat food.”

“Where’d this come from?” Takuma asks.

“My friend dropped off breakfast,” Yuji chirps, pushing a Tupperware container of pancakes toward you. If it weren’t for the brace wrapped around his wrist, you’d have no idea anything happened. He’s his usual golden retriever self.

You smile, forking one of the pancakes onto a plate. “That’s sweet.”

Your phone buzzes, and it’s Tsumiki sending you the link to the news brief. You frown at the headline, not out of any disrespect for the writer who stepped up to cover it, but more at the fact that it’s unfortunately true.

JU senior issued DUI after crash on 34th and Olson Blvd Friday night

“What’s up?” Takuma asks, immediately noting your expression. You slide the phone across the counter, watching its screen catch the light from the kitchen window. Kirara leans over it as well and starts reading off Junpei’s story halfway through.

“Zenin, who according to a campus police report was driving under the influence of alcohol, was on the phone with an ex-girlfriend when he swerved into the opposite lane.” Her dark brows knit together in some combination of anger and disbelief. “Jesus.”

“That’s fucked,” you murmur.

Someone’s phone rings, and Megumi glances at his screen and blinks, seems to hesitate. Then he gets up and disappears down the hall. You glance at Takuma, but he just shrugs. It’s probably Gojo.

The rest of you eat and eventually make your way to the living room, scattering yourselves across the couch and carpet and chairs.

“That single last night,” Takuma says, letting Kuro jump up beside him on the couch. “Concept. Make it the title track of an EP.”

You blink for a second, startled. “Wait, for real?”

“Yes!” Takuma says, sitting up straighter. “Think about it. Cover art is one of those name tag stickers, you all sign it, wrinkle it up and crease it and take a grainy film photo. And you put the song on it with Next Fix and a couple of your older singles you and blow up.”

“Or you print one off that says hello, our name is,” Kirara pipes up, seeming excited by the idea. “Ooh, you can have an intro track like that.”

“All caps. Just to match the energy,” you say, picturing the EP cover in your mind. “HELLO MY NAME IS. No punctuation either.”

“I like it,” Kirara nods. Takuma’s got that excited shine to his eyes, and you realize he’s very in his element in this conceptual space—he really will be a good producer. He has the mind for it.

Megumi slips back into the room looking a little haphazard, disgruntled, looking anywhere but into anyone else’s eyes, and Yuji cocks his head in question. Not Gojo, then. “Who was that?”

“No one,” Megumi lies, waving him off and turning back toward the kitchen to avoid everyone’s questioning gaze. Hm.You know better than to ask, and it seems that’s the consensus, because nobody pushes it—Megumi will open up in his own time. You hope he figures it out soon.

For your part, it’s a lazy Saturday, hanging out with Takuma, Yuji, Megumi, Kirara, and Hakari, gaming and talking and generally just existing in each other’s presence. After the chaos of last night, it seems to be exactly what all of you needed.

It’s not until late afternoon that Kirara broaches the topic of the band.

She gestures at Yuji, a flapping motion that misses the mark a little because Kirara is sprawled upside-down in the beanbag in the corner. “Itadori, can you, like… drum with that?”

He shrugs, looking down at his injured wrist. “Yeah, probably!” You frown. So much of drumming is in the wrist, and you kind of figured Kirara’s question was rhetorical. You realize abruptly that Shibuya Incident is still going up against Black Flash in the finals on Friday, and if they don’t have Yuji, they’re fucked.

“Psh, don’t look like that, it’s fine,” Yuji insists, grabbing two Wii remotes and wielding them like drumsticks. He goes to bang them around, mimicking a rock beat, and you watch as his face twists into a grimace and he drops one of them. “Okay, so, update: never mind!” He grins sheepishly.

Kirara is the first one to look at you, and by the time you’ve processed what exactly it is she’s trying to say, everyone else has their eyes locked on you—including Yuji.

Oh, shit.

“Whaddaya say, girl drummer?” Kirara asks, pointing a finger gun at you.

“Oh, guys, I don’t… I don’t know, it’s your band. Yuji—”

But Yuji is the one who seems the most excited about it. He’s abandoned both Wii remotes on the floor and is now looking up at you with bright eyes and his eternal grin. “No, Skipper, please? It would be so fun! I can still do aux and stuff. But we could play together! It would be so awesome!”

“Is that even allowed?” you ask, glancing at Takuma, who’s trying and failing to hide a boyishly excited smile. “I mean, I already got eliminated.”

“Hang on,” Hakari says, pulling out his phone. It takes you a minute to realize who he’s asking. “Yeah, no, Panda says it’s whatever. Better that than not have a battle at all.”

Takuma nudges you with a knee, looking at you with steady eyes. It’s your choice, he seems to say.

“I think,” you say slowly, “I should talk to my band first. But… I’m not opposed.”

Yuji whoops so loudly you flinch a little and Takuma grins, putting his arm around you and squeezing your shoulder.

“I probably should head out,” you say, a little reluctantly. “Kinda left the roommates high and dry last night.”

Kirara salutes you, her face red from the blood rush of still being upside down, and Yuji chirps out a happy see ya!

“I’ll walk you out,” Takuma says, standing when you do. You say bye to the band and the dogs and he follows you to the front door, going as far as to step just outside with you. The door stays open just a crack as you linger, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back. He pulls you in and kisses you right there on the front step, and you smile against his lips.

“Are we, like…?” Takuma murmurs when he pulls away, cheeks flushed from the question or the cold, you can’t tell.

“Are we what?” you tease, shoving lightly at his chest.

“You know.”

“Well, if you don’t say it I’m gonna beat you to asking—”

This seems to zap whatever hesitation Takuma had right out of him, and he cuts in, “Willyoubemygirlfriend?”

“Sorry, what was that?” You know you’ve got a shit-eating grin on your face, but you can’t stop it. “Couldn’t really hear you—”

“Oh my god. Will,” he says slowly, drawing out the word, “You. Be. My. Girlfriend?”

You can see your laugh fanning out before you in a puff of warm air, and you tip your head forward into his chest, grinning. “Yes, Takuma, I would love to be your girlfriend.” You pull back and look up at him, lacing your fingers together. “I was kind of trying to get you alone all week so we could figure out what the fuck was going on. But it worked out, huh?”

“Yeah,” he grins. “It worked out.” He reaches up and ruffles your hair, laughing when you go to swat his hand away. “I was trying to get you alone, too,” he admits. “I like spending time with you, Skip. I’m pretty sure you’re the coolest person I’ve met, like, ever.”

“Ever,” you echo. “Those are some pretty lofty expectations to live up to.”

He shrugs. “You meet them all.”

Despite yourself, heat creeps up to your cheeks again.

“That was less scary than I thought it was gonna be,” Takuma confesses. Your phone rings in your pocket, and you glance at it and see Maki’s name sliding across the screen.

“Think that’s my cue.” You plant one last kiss on Takuma’s lips and turn around, throwing a “bye, boyfriend” over your shoulder. You glance back and catch him mid fist-pump, and he sheepishly shoves his hands into his pockets when he realizes you saw.

You’re still wearing his clothes, you realize as you answer your phone. Guess it doesn’t really matter, since they’re your boyfriend’s.

“Hey,” Maki says in your ear. “You comin’ home anytime soon? No rush, but we’re making lunch so we figured we’d ask.” In the background, you can hear Toge singing what you think is a dramatic rendition of Kristoff’s song from Frozen II, but you aren’t entirely certain because none of the words are right.

“Yeah, I’m literally walking through the door in thirty seconds,” you say, and Nobara’s face appears in the kitchen window. She waves excitedly and you raise a hand in return.

“Oh, sick.” The line goes dead as you open the front door. “Hey!” Maki shouts when she hears it click, and you slam it closed against the rush of cool air trying to sneak inside with you.

“Hi!” you call back.

Yuta pokes his head around the corner and grins at you. “Welcome home, our favorite breaking news reporter.”

“I didn’t actually report on anything,” you admit, kicking your shoes off and padding into the kitchen. Toge is somehow balancing cross-legged on one of the high stools, and Maki is making tacos. “Conflict of interest once I realized who it was.”

“Yeah, I saw the article,” Nobara chimes in, glancing up from her phone. “Yikes. Frickin’ Naoya Zenin. What an asshat.”

You snort. What an understatement.

“Hope he rots in jail,” Maki says in a sing-song voice, not even looking up.

“I love family,” Toge says.

You fill your friends in on the crash and the aftermath and Yuji’s wrist, leaving out some of the details about Takuma, because that feels a little invasive. And then Yuta asks the big question: “What about the band?”

“About that,” you say, taking a deep breath. You’re not exactly sure why this makes you so nervous. Maybe it’s just that these are your people, your band, and you all worked so hard and then went down together. It doesn’t seem fair that you get to go back on stage and try again and the rest of them don’t. “So. They asked me to fill in—“

“Yes!” Nobara shouts, pumping a fist in the air. “Oh, that’s so awesome!”

“Well, I didn’t say yes yet—”

“What? Why?” Toge asks incredulously. You laugh, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders. Of course they’re okay with it. These are your best friends. They’ll always have your back.

“I wanted to check with you guys,” you say, feeling silly about it now. “Just—I don’t know, to make sure. Since it’s not our band, and I didn’t want you guys to feel like I was, I don’t know, like…”

“Musically cheating?” Maki chuckles. “Skipper, this is great. You should say yes.”

Yuta solemnly puts a hand over his heart. “Avenge us.”

“Thanks, guys.” You grin as you hop up on the counter next to Nobara, pressing your shoulder to hers. “I love y’all.”

“Sap,” Maki says, which means love you too.

—

Using a drum set that isn’t yours is always a weird experience. You feel like everything is just ever so slightly off, and Yuji’s kit is an absolute patchwork of different brands of heads and shells and cymbals. You have to lower the stool because he’s taller than you. But it’s just for rehearsal, at least—you can use your own kit at The Fix.

It’s your first time in the shabby basement of Takuma’s house, and it looks distinctly different than your own. They’ve pinned old rugs to the walls as a type of sound deadener, not dissimilar to your own setup, but their lighting is a collection of Facebook marketplace floor lamps and a little disco ball that’s apparently Yuji’s. Your basement has string lights and a bunch of stools and beanbags, and this one has extra blankets all over the floor where Yuji and Kirara have made themselves at home.

Learning Shibuya Incident’s songs isn’t difficult—you’ve heard enough of their music to anticipate what’s coming, and Yuji’s there to give you pointers. Their three-song set for the final performance isn’t actually done, because they don’t feel like they have a good enough finisher, and after you’ve run the first two songs several times you mess around with potential chorus lines.

“What about that?” Kirara says after plucking out a new melody. “It’s hype enough, I think. Or it will be, once we add the rest of you.”

“I like that.” You tap out the rhythm on the snare rim, humming. “You have lyrics?” You look at Takuma, who’s staring at the ceiling like it might have all the answers if he just squints hard enough.

“Somethin’ about, like… losing your head a little bit because you caught feels,” he says. “Like, you’re down so bad you can’t function, to be dramatic about it. That triplet at the beginning of the chorus, Kirara—”

She plucks it out again, down-up-down. “On my own,” Takuma echoes, down-up-down. “Every little move I can’t pin down…”

The words tumble past your lips before you can stop them, because they’ve been circling your head for a week now. “Friends with all the dead in my ghost town.”

He spins around to look at you, a grin spreading across his face. “Yes! It’s like I’m going…”

“Going,” Kirara echoes, and they go back and forth—going, going, “out of my mind!”

“Whoo!” Yuji cheers, pumping a fist in the air. “Holy shit. That was crazy.” Takuma grabs the nearest beat-to-hell spiral notebook and starts scribbling.

Megumi starts laying out a bassline, subtly driving the beat forward a little, and you clamp the hat down on two and four to keep time. Kirara comes in with something that must be the verse, and Takuma reads off, “You left in the morning after eight, I got into work two hours late, I can’t see the sun without your face.” Bass, bass, bass. Megumi nods along and Yuji is practically dancing from his spot on the floor.

“One day and I run fresh out of light…”

Hm. You add, “Twelve hours without your hand in mine.”

“I’m dizzy and overworked and tired,” Kirara sings lowly. All three of you sing the chorus again, and you feel just like you’re at home in your own basement, writing a song in real time with Nobara and Maki and the boys.

“Oh, that slaps,” Takuma practically shouts. “Jesus. We’re gonna win.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Megumi warns, a wry quirk to his lips.

Kirara glances at her phone. “Food’s here. Break time, freaks.” She bounds up the stairs and Megumi follows to help her grab the bags—you DoorDashed Taco Bell, since Yuji never got his beloved crunch wrap on Friday.

You leave your sticks on the snare and move around the drum set, flopping down on the ground beside Takuma. “You’re good at that,” you tell him honestly, pulling the notebook away to read what he’s writing down. I met you across the darkened stage, you shook up my life, you got me made, you’re drivin’ me crazy night and day.

You can’t help thinking of the night you met him, locking eyes while he sang from the edge of the low stage at The Fix, lit up by purple-red stage lights and putting you in a trance. You scribble a few more lines after his and hand the pen back.

“You’re a poet,” he tells you, and you laugh.

“I’m a journalist.”

“Woman of many talents,” he says, echoing Maki’s words from that first night you met.

“Itadori!” Kirara shouts down the stairs.

“Coming!” Yuji leaps up and disappears up the rickety basement staircase, leaving you and Takuma alone.

“Hey,” he says, tapping the pen on the page. You glance up at him, nodding for him to keep going. “Can I take you out? Like, on an actual date?”

Something light and quick kicks around in your chest, a hummingbird loose in your ribcage. “I would not be opposed,” you say, as if the idea doesn’t make you want to kick your feet like a little kid. “When are you thinking?”

“Mm, you’re in night class prison tomorrow,” he says, tapping the pen against his lip now. “Tuesday?”

It shouldn’t make you so irrationally happy that he remembers your schedule, but logic seems to go out the window where Takuma Ino is concerned. “Tuesday’s good. Where do you wanna go?”

He shakes his head adamantly, tapping you on the nose with his pen. “Leave it to me.”

—

The only things Takuma’s told you about your date tonight are dress warm and bring your board. He meets you outside your place at four, his bag definitely bulkier than usual, his own skateboard under one foot.

You’re wearing a denim jacket over a hoodie and your favorite cargo pants with your boots, and you tucked a beanie and gloves into your bag just in case, but it’s surprisingly balmy out for late October. The wind is the worst of it.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Takuma says when you coast down the driveway and come to a stop beside him. The greeting makes you blush as much as his smile does, and he chuckles as he pushes off. “This way.”

“Where are we going?”

“Crazy,” he says. You roll your eyes. Sounds like the kind of dad joke Yuta would make.

“Well, then.” The two of you make your way down the street and around the bend, and you realize he’s taking you to the skate park. But at the entrance he keeps going, around the pit and a few of the ramps and to the largest one, back in the corner—not the one Sukuna deals under, but the one opposite. And you stop in your tracks, your longboard making a protesting schkk under your feet, when you see it.

Battery-powered string lights loop around the posts and down the underside of the ramp, and blankets and pillows are spread out across the ground. The area is sheltered from the worst of the wind, and you know your jaw is hanging open a little as you watch Takuma unload his bag—JBL speaker, two thermoses, and a bunch of food.

“Takuma,” you say, not knowing what other words suffice. “I—oh my god.” You did not peg him as being this romantic.

Then you think about his song lyrics and think maybe you should have.

He grins at you from where he’s sat down on the blankets, holding out one of the thermoses. You leave your board by one of the poles and sit down beside him, taking it and letting the warmth seep into your hands. “What is it?”

“Hot chocolate.”

“Mm.” You scoot closer to him, staring up at the layers and layers of graffiti and marker art covering the underside of the ramp. “This is maybe the sweetest thing ever.”

“I’m glad,” he says. “I had no idea what I was doing.”

“I wouldn’t know.” You take a sip of the hot chocolate—still warm. “It’s romantic. Big fan.”

“Really?” He points to where somebody drew a dick on the far side of the ramp.

“Okay, well, you didn’t have to point it out,” you smirk. “You ever done graffiti?” Looking at his mischievous smile and the beanie tugged over his head, the skateboard abandoned a few feet away, he does look like the type.

“Tagging?” He shrugs. “No. I would, though. Maybe we should.”

You hum, staring up at the arcing bubble letters and jagged black lines all over the ramp. You think you’d be horrible at graffiti, but you’ve always appreciated it, the way it sends a message and doesn’t ask for anything in return.

“This is like… alternative aesthetic stargazing,” you muse, lifting a finger and tracing the sharp lines of one of the illegible words in the air. You could stare at all this art for hours and never find all the intricacies of it.

Takuma digs around in his bag and produces a Sharpie with an “aha!”

“You’re gonna graffiti with a Sharpie?”

He throws it at you and you catch it in one hand, instinctively twirling it like a drumstick. “We’re gonna graffiti with a Sharpie,” he corrects.

And so you do.

The nearest part of the wall is covered in bright pink paint outlined in black, and it takes you a moment of squinting and tilting your head to realize it says LEAVEYOURMARK. Seems as clear of an instruction as any. So you do—scooting forward, you start to draw flowers into the thick bands of pink lettering, and soon they’re shifting to music notes, percussion notation, aimless squiggles. Takuma queues up a laid-back playlist with a few artists you recognize and many more you don’t, and you pass the pen back and forth, adding tiny notes to messages around the ramp, doodling in the empty space.

You’ve been on dates before, but this feels wholly different. With Takuma, you’re not stressing over conversation starters, worrying about commitment, wondering if you picked the right outfit, trying to gauge your shared interests with carefully planned questions. It’s just easy, existing with him like this.

After a while, you’re on your back in the mess of pillows and blankets, staring directly up at the massive painting of a skateboard with a face. Takuma is drawing something on the wall behind you.

Squinting, the green streaks under the skateboard look like that loss meme Toge sends you at least twice a week. You take a photo with the intention of showing it to him later, though maybe you shouldn’t—he gets way too proud of himself for versing you in what he calls Reddit culture.

You crane your neck to see what Takuma’s drawing and find the thick, dark strokes of a city skyline, towers and domes and boxy apartment buildings.

“Artsy,” you tell him, smiling when he appears in your line of vision upside-down. “You sure about this computer science thing? You’re too creative.”

“That’s what my mom said,” he chuckles, capping the Sharpie and sitting down beside you. As you sit up, he leans back on his hands and glances over at you. “I told her about you. She’d love you. I mean, I’m pretty sure she already does.” He hesitates. “Is that weird? Too soon?”

“No,” you grin. “I—that’s really sweet, actually. I would love to meet your mom.” Your gaze softens at the relieved smile that crosses his face. “Gotta thank her for raising a guy like you, anyway.”

You realize you want Takuma to meet your family too—you want to show him all the corners of your too-small town, show him the place you grew up. It made you who you are—it led you here, to him, after all.

“So,” you say, tilting your head. “When you say you wanna be a producer. Where do you mean? Like, LA?”

He shrugs. “Probably. But I’m sure it’s more competitive there than anywhere else. I feel like the major hubs are there and New York, but I wouldn’t mind somewhere quieter, either.” He loops an arm around you, and your head finds its way to his shoulder. “What about you, world-class journalist?”

You grin, thinking of all the places you haven’t been, all the places you want to go. “Anywhere and everywhere. I just wanna see it all. I wanna travel.”

“You should!” He sounds genuinely excited about the concept, and you lift your head, taking in the expression on his face—he looks the way he did when he was talking about making an EP, like the world is full of possibilities and he wants to see them all play out. “You’d be so good at it. Being a travel writer or international correspondent or whatever.” He clears his throat. “I read some of your stuff, y’know.”

“What?” Suddenly you’re racking your brain for every piece you’ve published in the JU Journal, overly critical of your own work in hindsight. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s good. Really good, Skip, seriously.” He reaches out and tugs a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, and you find yourself leaning into the contact.

You aren’t sure what to say, so you settle on a soft, “Thank you.” Somehow, the idea of Takuma going out of his way to read your work feels personal on the same level that writing a song together does. Taking in your words, your ideas, internalizing them. What is intimacy if not that intellectual exchange?

“I think you’re going to be a really good producer.” It’s his turn to blush. “I mean it. Not everyone has the perspective for it, or the ear. But you do.”

“Ah, well, I—”

“Am not good at taking compliments?” you cut him off, raising a brow. “Mm, we’ll fix that.” He laughs, and you’re leaning in to kiss him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it is the most natural thing in the world.

It’s late October, and you are not the least bit cold.

—

Your hands need to stop sweating before you lose a drumstick or something.

Shibuya Incident has about twenty minutes before you’re all due on stage for the finals, and The Fix is alive with students and lights and drinks and music and chatter. You’re out on the floor tonight, off to the side for easy access to the stage once Black Flash clears out.

“We’re kicking off with the reigning champions of the Battle of the Bands,” Panda booms, throwing an arm out as the band takes the stage. “You know ‘em, you love ‘em, they’re every genre and no genre, covers and originals, brass and wind. Give it up for Black Flash!”

You whoop just as loud as anyone else here, grinning at Nobara’s animated cheering from closer to the center of the floor. Miwa walks right up to the mic and takes it off the stand, the neck of her white electric in her other hand. “Hey, folks!” She brushes her bright blue hair out of her face and shouts, “Y’all ready to hear some good music?”

She has the sort of infectious enthusiasm that could work on pretty much anyone, and before you know it you and Kirara are spinning each other around to the beat of a synth-heavy pop song that sounds like it came straight out of the 80s. The instrumentals are simple but tight, and Miwa jumps around, engaging the crowd, belting like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

“They’re good,” you catch Megumi saying lowly, probably to Yuji, but Takuma’s the one who answers.

“If I tell you the power of friendship will lead us to victory—”

“No.”

“Well, okay, you’re no fun.”

Kirara turns around and plants a hand on her hip, looking at Megumi. “Fushiguro, we’re fine. We’re going out with a badass new single and not one but two percussionists. We’ve never sounded this good.”

“Just being the token pessimist,” he sighs, cracking a reluctant half-smile. “I know we’re good.”

Yuji elbows him playfully. “Mr. Realist.”

Black Flash segues into a second track, an ABBA cover that has you dancing without thinking, and Takuma catches your eye and grins, moving along with you. And all too soon it’s over, a third song come and gone, and Panda’s back up on stage and the five of you are hopping up over the side to make your way to your places. Hakari and another tech have already swapped out the kits, and you settle yourself in the comfort of your own throne, your own pedals, flipping on the snare and pounding the kick a few times.

Yuji’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning at you. “You got this,” he mouths, shaking his tambourine at you.

You truly have no idea where he got a tambourine.

“What happened in Shibuya? Who the hell knows?” Panda shouts, riling up the crowd. “Give it up for Shibuya Incident!”

That’s your cue. You look at Kirara, who nods with a conspiratorial smile, and then Megumi, who plucks out a few notes in answer. Yuji’s already giving you a grin and a thumbs-up. And Takuma… he’s already stepped into his on-stage confidence, all relaxed, easygoing performer, and the look he gives you has energy coursing through your fingertips like an electric shock.

You hold your sticks above your head, clicking them loud on the lower end of the shaft, and shout, “One, two, three, four!”

You are alive.

The first track is another pulled from their EP, and you’ve listened to it probably an embarrassing number of times—you know Yuji’s part down to the sixteenth note, the roll, the rest, but you don’t hesitate to put your own spin on it, and he’s alight with the same energy beside you, messing around with a tambourine and a few other aux instruments near a mic of his own, since he’s also doing backup vocals tonight.

Your hands are moving fast, your feet pumping the pedals of their own accord, an instinct, and it’s over before you know it, a sheen of sweat already forming under the stage lights. You grin, catching your breath, wiping your hands on your jeans as Takuma introduces the band.

From your place near the back of the stage, you get more of the low feedback than anything else, but you definitely hear when he says Shibuya Incident and the crowd responds raucously in kind.

“That’s Kirara Hoshi on guitar and vocals,” he says, pointing to her as she does her little riff.

“Yeah, Kira!” You have no idea where Hakari’s voice is coming from, but it’s unmistakable.

“We got Fushiguro back there on the bass,” Takuma continues, and Megumi gives the crowd an unbothered nod, showing off his own instrument for a moment. “Itadori’s back here on aux and vocals.” He pauses to let the crowd shout for Yuji and then adds, “And filling in for him on kit, we’ve got the legendary drummer from Cursed Technique. Everyone give it up for Skipper!”

You do a quick roll, laughing as your own band goes crazy—you can’t see them in the glare of the lights, but you (and everyone else) can definitely hear them.

“I’m Ino, we’re Shibuya Incident, and this next one’s gonna slow things down a little.”

This one starts with Megumi, a laid-back track with a similar vibe to the first song you ever heard Shibuya Incident perform, but a little smoother. It’s over before you know it, and then you and Kirara are launching into the new single. Even Yuji looks like he’s having the time of life on backup vocals.

“On my own,” he and Kirara harmonize, Takuma taking the lead, and you nail the next two lines with punchy cymbal-tom hits, “all the shadows look like a death threat, everybody’s waitin’ to get hit, it’s like I’m going (going) going (going) out of my mind!”

All your worries melt away as the beat drives your movements. You’re not thinking about dropping a drumstick, missing a measure, losing the competition. You’re doing what you love with people you love, and that’s all you’ve ever wanted to do.

“Think I’m seein’ double in one eye, startin’ to think this air is spiked, no one told me that’s what love is like.” Takuma lets the guitar hang and grips the mic in one hand and the stand in the other, leaning with it as he engages the crowd, and you definitely hear Nobara screaming. “You got me going (going) going (going) out of my mind, yeah, yeah.”

It’s over so fast you can barely breathe, and you’re laughing before you know what’s happening, Yuji throwing his arm around you and shouting, “You killed it!”

Takuma turns around and locks eyes with you, and you see that same adrenaline high in his gaze that you know is in yours, and when the band stumbles off stage in Panda’s wake, he grabs your hand and pulls you into a hug. “That was crazy!” he practically shouts, which is probably good, because your ears are ringing so much you probably wouldn’t have heard him otherwise.

“Guys,” Megumi says, deadpan as always, but you can see the effects of the performance even on him, his usually stoic expression unable to mask his own excitement. “I think… we might have a shot.”

“Holy shit,” Kirara says. “Skip, write the story. Resident pessimist breaks vow of negativity—”

“Oh, shut up.” Megumi elbows her as she dissolves into laughter. In the wings, you can hear the indistinct sounds of Panda’s instructions as he starts voting, and music kicks up over the speakers. Ten minutes. Ten minutes.

It’s the longest and shortest wait of your life, and then you’re back on stage with Black Flash and Panda, and it’s fucking time.

You wonder if everyone else can hear your blood roaring, too.

“Once again, an insanely tight vote,” Panda says, a hush falling over the crowd as they wait for the verdict. “Phenomenal performances from both of our final bands, but someone’s gotta win. Give it up for the champions of this year’s Battle of the Bands…”

You imagine Maki hissing under her breath for Panda to hurry it up, Nobara’s hands clasped together as she anxiously bounces on the balls of her feet, Yuta biting his lip and trying to get Toge to shut up.

Takuma’s hand is on your shoulder, Yuji on your other side, Megumi and Kirara behind you. You glance at Miwa, and she gives you a knowing look that you can’t interpret.

You almost don’t hear it.

“SHIBUYA INCIDENT!”

You don’t know which screams belong to who—maybe one of them’s yours—but you’re swept into a massive pile of musicians drunk off victory, and you’re laughing, and Miwa’s jumping up and down and saying how that was insane, guys, you were amazing, and even Mai nods at you in congratulations, and Yuji is abruptly on Todo’s shoulders, and as the stage lights turn down a bit you finally catch sight of your own band, losing their minds on the floor.

“That’s our girl!” Maki hollers, and Yuta whoops as Toge pumps a fist in the air. You realize you can’t see Nobara, and two seconds later your questions are answered when she somehow materializes on the stage, launching herself at you with a massive grin on her face.

“You did it!” she shouts. “Holy shit, Skipper!”

Everything around you is chaos and laughter and noise, but something in the center of your being is incredibly still, and you think maybe it’s contentment. In this moment, you would ask for nothing else. It is perfect.

Nobara detaches herself from you after more profuse congratulations, turning to Miwa, and the bands make their way gradually off stage. Takuma’s hand is in yours—you don’t know when that happened—and he pulls you past the band, past the wings, all the way into the drum storage room backstage.

“That was fucking amazing,” he says. “You’re fucking amazing.” His beanie is off, tucked into his pocket, his hair as wild as his eyes as wild as your heart.

You close the door.

It’s a pulse. That’s the only way you can describe it, the rush of living energy that comes with kissing Takuma Ino behind the stage of a shitty campus bar, the heat shooting through your veins in time with the throb of the bass from distant speakers. Breath on your teeth and hands in your hair, the warmth in your gut from skin-on-skin proximity, ears ringing with the sound of your name on his lips and love-blind eyes, you’re alive and addicted to a feeling you know you’ll chase forever.

—

TWO MONTHS LATER. DECEMBER 19.

The house is alive with laughter and chatter and Michael Bublé’s Christmas album spinning from the record player. The semester is over, and tomorrow you’ll scatter for winter break, home for the holidays. Nobara insisted on throwing a party before all the inevitable road trips and flights, and the main floor is strung with multicolored lights and tinsel—Yuta’s plant, Rika, even has a tiny Santa hat on.

In addition to the actual residents of the house, Takuma and the band are here, as well as Hakari, Panda, Tsumiki, Miwa, and a handful of other friends. Megumi’s even brought the dogs, who have both taken a liking to the loveseat by the window and claimed it as their own. You’ve informed Megumi that they’re going to stay here with you forever (he said no, but you don’t take orders from him).

“Okay, I’m dropping you off at ten, right?” Yuta quadruple-checks. You’re huddled in the kitchen with him and Maki—Toge was here a minute ago, but he heard someone in the living room mention Just Dance and ran off to assert his dominance or whatever.

“Oh my god, yes,” Maki answers for you. “Yuta. You wrote it down. It’s in your calendar. You live in the same house as Skip, you’re not gonna forget.” She bumps her shoulder with his and he sighs in admission.

“I know.” He smiles at you. “Just gotta make sure she gets home for the holidays. Can’t have you turning into a sad Christmas cliché on us, Skip.”

You salute him with half a gingerbread cookie. “Appreciate it.” He’s taking you to the airport tomorrow for your flight home and refuses to take your gas money, so you’re already planning on beating him to paying for the first grocery run when you get back.

“Things with Mai are good?” you ask, glancing at Maki. She shrugs noncommittally but doesn’t correct you, which is a good sign. She and her sister met up the week after the Battle of the Bands for coffee, which you genuinely thought was a joke when she told you about it. They’re both going home for Christmas and have apparently decided to try and like each other a little more openly. And she actually showed up tonight, which you have to admit you weren’t entirely expecting.

“Yuta!” Toge hollers from the other room. “You have to come do Rasputin with me!”

Yuta groans, looking pleadingly at Maki like she can get him out of this, but she just grins. “You heard him.”

“You hate me.”

“Yeah,” Maki says fondly. Yuta, defeated, goes to join Toge in the dance of death. Maki whispers to you that she’s going to record it for blackmail and slips out after him.

Tsumiki appears beside you, drink in hand, and leans against the wall. She tilts her phone screen toward you and you see it’s the Journal website analytics.

The top story right now is yours. You grin. “Oh, wow. I didn’t realize.”

“I expected it,” she admits, tucking her phone back in her pocket and gazing out across the room. “Look, I’ve been meaning to tell you. We won’t start the application process until spring sem, but, if you want it,” she glances at you, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, “I really think you should apply for editor-in-chief, Skip.”

Your mouth opens and closes without anything of use coming out, and Tsumiki laughs. “You don’t have to, but—”

“No!” you blurt, grinning. “I—I want to. I would love to. I was planning on it. I just didn’t know you… wanted me to.” Kusakabe’s just the advisor—when it comes to actually hiring the next editor, Tsumiki has the final say. Her endorsement is as good as a job offer. “I… thank you, Tsumiki.” You look down, suddenly overwhelmed by the words. “Big shoes to fill.”

“Aw, none of that,” she says, stealing a cookie from the tray on the counter next to you. “I literally can’t think of anyone better.” With a wink, she disappears through the doorway, where Kirara and Nobara are talking animatedly. Nobara gestures to you when she catches your eye.

“Dude, our listens are shooting up!” she says, shoving her phone into your hands. Your EP dropped mid-November, six tracks recorded in the studio with Takuma and Hakari, and you’ve performed better than you ever expected. The analytics show a sharp uptick that’s probably in large part due to Panda playing your stuff on the radio station.

You whistle, leaning on Nobara’s shoulder. “Awesome.”

Kirara leans against the wall, considering. “You guys thought about what you’re gonna do next year?”

Truthfully, you’ve really tried not to. The idea of Maki and Yuta graduating is so bittersweet. But graduation means Shibuya Incident will have a hole in their band, too. Kirara will be gone.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Nobara muses. “We could join forces. If we lose Maki and Yuta and Kirara, the only thing we’re doubled up on is drums and lead.”

It’s not a bad idea. And if Yuji is track captain next year and you get that editor job, neither of you will have as much time for the band—switching off could actually be very helpful. You hum, considering. You’ll have to talk to the others.

“Oi,” Kirara says, reaching out to poke you with a socked foot. “Your boyfriend’s in lost puppy mode over there.” You glance into the living room to see Takuma scanning the room next to Megumi and the dogs, probably looking for you.

“Dumbass,” you say fondly, and nod goodbye to Nobara and Kirara before making your way over to him. The boys are halfway through Rasputin and Yuta is, much to Toge’s chagrin, kicking ass. Toge looks like he’s just run a half marathon.

Takuma lights up when he sees you, a mischievous smile appearing on his face as he intercepts you by the hall entrance.

“Oh, wow, what is that?” he asks cheekily, and tilts your chin up to see a piece of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. That was definitely Nobara’s doing. “Crazy that we just happened to—”

You cut him off, dragging him in by the shirt and kissing him, and makes a surprised sound that has you smiling against his lips.

“Crazy,” you repeat after you pull back, relishing the flush on his cheeks. Even after dating him for two months (as of today), every reaction you get out of Takuma makes your heart rate bump up a few beats. “Oh!” he says, suddenly remembering something. “Wait, c’mere, I have something for you.”

“Takuma!” You swat at him. “I told you not to—”

“Boo hoo,” he says, sticking his tongue out and dragging you toward your room, where he dumped his stuff earlier. You quietly close the door behind you as Takuma digs around his bag, standing up with his hands behind his back. “It’s Christmas and it’s been two months. You have no defense. Close your eyes.”

You do, giggling a little as he grabs your hand and presses something into it—something soft. “Okay,” he says, and you open your eyes to see a little stuffed penguin perched in the palm of your hand. It’s fucking adorable.

“Oh my god!” you cry. “Oh, he’s so cute! Takuma.” You cradle the penguin to your chest with both hands, grinning.

“It’s you!” he says, laughing. “Not official Madagascar merch, but I thought it was pretty cute. Your own lil’ Skipper.”

“I love it,” you say, making the penguin do a little dance in the air. You grab its tiny wing and poke Takuma on the nose with it. “Thank you.”

“Merry early Christmas.” His nose scrunches up a little in thought. “Early Merry Christmas? What’s the right way to say that?”

“Happy early nondenominational holiday of your choice,” you say teasingly, because the public university won’t actually say Christmas despite the decorations all around campus.

It’s a running joke among the entirety of the student body that the massive tree in the arts lobby is not a Christmas tree but a secular modern art installation. There are variations of insane alternate tree names on the school meme accounts. The knockoff JU Barstool page even got in on it, and the student groups hosting the Hanukkah and Kwanzaa celebrations.

Takuma’s answering laugh is bright and it follows you as you cross the room to your desk, pulling a box out of the second drawer. “Your turn.”

“What?” He has the audacity to look confused. “Skip—”

You hold up the penguin. “Objection denied!” The box is light and square, and you watch excitedly as he opens it.

“Oh my god,” he says when he realizes what’s inside. “No way. These are the exact ones—how did you even—?”

You had to do some investigating to figure out the precise guitar strings he uses, but what's your journalism degree for if not this?

“Who knows?” You shrug playfully. “Maybe it’s the psychic powers, maybe it’s the housemate I begged to sneak into your room and find out.”

Kirara was more than willing. “Good thing you came to me and not Itadori,” she laughed. “That kid can’t be subtle to save his life.” Takuma’s strings have been on the brink for a while, and you’re honestly shocked none of them have given out yet.

“They’re perfect,” Takuma laughs, setting the box back on your desk. “I love them. I love you.”

He says it so easily it takes you a moment to realize what just happened. He freezes, mouth opening and closing like he doesn’t know what words he’s looking for.

“I—uh,” he says eloquently. “It’s—I mean. I didn’t mean to—I mean, I didn’t mean to say it like that but I did mean it, you don’t have to say it back, if it’s too soon or you—”

Instead of cutting him off verbally, you grab him by the shoulders and press your lips to his. His eyes are wide when you pull back, despite the way he relaxed into the kiss on instinct.

“Hey,” you laugh, one hand trailing up to the back of his neck. “I love you, too.”

The excited smile that spreads across his face is slow and hesitant, like he can’t believe you reciprocate. You pull him back in and feel his grin against your lips, his hands coming to rest at your waist, warm.

“Thank god,” he murmurs between breaths. “Because I keep almost accidentally saying it, and it was gonna happen sooner or later.”

“Least it didn’t happen over the phone,” you grin, your hand skating down his arm and coming to rest in his.

Sheepishly, he admits, “Almost did. Yesterday.” Your laugh is bright and so is his answering one, and you perch your little stuffed penguin atop the guitar strings and tug Takuma toward the door.

“Okay, lover boy. Back to the outside world.”

“Lover boy, huh?” he teases. “Kay, pretty girl.”

“Couple of cheesy ass romantics we are.”

“Mm.” He presses a kiss to your temple, the action so casual and unthinking you want to melt. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The second you step back into the living room, Yuta grabs you by the elbow and presses a Wii remote into your hand.

“Oh, no. Yuta—”

The song’s been chosen for you, and Toge has passed the remote to Maki, who looks like she’d rather die than give a rousing performance of TiK ToK by Ke$ha.

“Well, at least it’s you,” she says. Toge tries to discreetly pull his phone out, but Maki gives him a death glare that could send a grown man to his grave. He nearly drops it in his hurry to shove it back into his pocket.

You snort, patting Maki sympathetically on the shoulder. “Let’s kick ass.”

Three hours later, everyone has somewhat settled down, sprawled across furniture and countertops and the carpeted floor. Yuta’s grabbed an acoustic from the basement and it’s being passed around, goofy Christmas songs overlapping with the still-spinning record player.

You enrolled here with the intention of building a new life, finding a new purpose—new faces, new music, a new place to call home. And you feel like you’ve found it. This is the point of college. You’re surrounded by the best people you’ve ever known, and your heart is practically overflowing with how much you fucking love them all.

After all, your heart is not a finite thing. You’ve just got an endless supply of affection, and you’re not scared of it.

Love is the right word, you think, letting your head fall onto Takuma’s shoulders, legs tucked up beneath you on the couch.

“I love you,” you whisper, just to say it. When he whispers your name, your real name, in the shell of your ear, something in your chest sparks a little. He makes it sound like a song.

“I love you, too.”

directory | prev.

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro @bisforbuse @risararelywrites @idkidk32 @gojodickbig @stargazing-with-choso @anonymity-222 @honeyyhuggs

a/n: that’s a wrap on out of my mind! ahh! i loved this one a lot, and it has so much spinoff potential i’m going a little crazy with it—keep an eye out for the megumi spinoff dropping soon. if you want to be alerted when it drops, lmk and i’ll put you on the jjk taglist. also, greta wrote a sukuna spinoff here—go read!

@bitchkay i need you to know your reblog tags give me life and you were fucking RIGHT ON THE MONEY with these developments

i’m not sure if i’ll start writing other fandoms or not—if y’all would want to see attack on titan or blue lock do let me know!

#this is such a good conclusion im gonna jump off a cliff #the worst part about this fic is that it ends💔#ME MAKING CORRECT PERDICTIONS‼‼‼‼‼#honestly i thought the drumming thing would be a bigger thing #like i didn't think they would fight about it #but in my mind i saw yuuji be like wym guys im fine it dont even hurt cus hes built different i guess????#then try to drum before HOWLING in pain like sir please step away from the kit #WE CONFESSED WE BECAME BOYFRIEND AND GIRLFRIEND WENT ON A DATE AND YUUJI GOT HIS TACO BELL⁉️ WE WINNING🥳🥳#yuuji deserves that taco bell😤#i love yuuji and his tambourine cus i just know he was having fun up there #went ever i think of tambourines i think of church ladies just feeling the music you know those church aunties #CURSED TECHNIQUE × SHIBUYA INCIDENT COLLAB EXCEPT THEY JUST MERGE #im curious on how that would potentially work cus obviously the seniors are graduating but people going to get busier with non band stuff #me and takuma are getting married yall #ino nation is so fed with this fic we were so hungry #yuta beat toges ass at rasputin is iconic actually cus i know he was cutting it tf up #and then me and maki doing tiktok by kesha so fun #there's one song on just dance I think it would be so funny i think its timber by kesha one of the dancers is a panda💀#you probably guess what im gonna say it would be funny if panda did that one with someone even better if it was the opposite #like panda was the girl and someone else was the panda💀💀#does this have to be the last chapter what am i going to hyperfixate on now🥺🥺#takumas date idea was so cute like the fairy lights at the skatepark with some blankets and food #i feel like I have so much i wanna say #i love tag ranting can you tell #i was talking to myself the whole time i read this i was so excited #THEY WON THE BATTLE OF THE BANDS YALL LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO🥳🥳🥳🥳#i need to shut up now im almost at the tag limit #ino takuma #takuma ino x reader #kay's reblogs

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sludgekludge · 3 days ago

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what are some of your most minor pet peeves with hellaverse?

this is a funny question. i like it

whining about silly things under the cut

the white on imps sometimes being scars and sometimes not throws me off because i can never tell what's meant to be subtle indications of a characters history (especially fun for bg designs imo) and whats like. a spot

i honestly think the main 3 in helluva have pretty good design synergy with each other and it makes me hate loona's design because she throws off every group shot

niffty being designed so similarly to the morningstars (stark white skin with red cheek spots) bugs me more than it should

it wasn't so bad in his first appearance iirc but ever since then asmodeus consistently gets drawn with a really tiny head and i can't not notice it

i struggle to really articulate why and this is probably dumb and snobbish of me but the form everyone gets where they get bigger and scarier being called 'full demon' just feels oddly juvenile to me. what does that even mean. full demon. are they like, half demon at their basic self? make up a cool word instead. it sounds like something i'd have written into my cool death reaper umbreon oc at age 9. i hate it. i dont even know why. it just sounds so dumb to me. like peak 'a child wrote this lore'. watch out guys im going full human (permanently injuring a muscle in my body because i stretched slightly funny while over the age of 25)

this feels mean to say but cherri's voice actor doesn't do a very good australian accent at all and it's incredibly distracting if you're even remotely familiar with how it should sound. similarly maybe it's just auditory processing issues on my end but i can't even tell what accent valentino is meant to have

his design is otherwise fine comparatively but i hate the eyes on pentious' tail. breaking up his shape and like. you slither on those. floor in your eye. at least 10 floor hairs in your eyes. i dont care if theyre just markings i hate them

remember when viv said vaggie's name wasn't vagina and then canonised her name as vagina (the only lesbian main character across both shows btw) and also instead of changing her name for real after she restarted her life from scratch she just changed the pronunciation instead of just the whole fucking name, so like clearly it bothered her just not enough to change it fully like she for some reason wanted to keep in part the name 'vagina' given to her by a misogynist man she hates-

i'm irrationally irritated that emily and sera's underwhelming. 'full angel' forms i guess turn up for a split second, it felt so weird and useless to reveal them now for nothing

in fact why is every angel we meet personally in heaven in s1 a normal humanoid even though there's a diverse variety of designs in the background. imo adam is the only one who has an excuse to just be some guy. furthermore where are st peters fucking ears. why were ears deliberately ommitted on his design and no one elses. he has no fucking ears viv

saint peter

#helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #thats it. just st peter.#abt the niffty/morningstars one #i watched hazbin with a friend who is very offline and 0 clue about fandom in general #as well as the friend who held me at gunpoint to watch helluva #and the non-fandom one thought they were secretly related the whole time #bc she 'didnt get' why they looked so close #so somewhat vindicated in my dumb baby bitching there lmfao #i could probabyl go on but i'll cut it there i have a lot of annoying little crybaby things i dont like bc i myself #am deeply annoying #ask

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hungy-raka · 13 hours ago

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Narinder headcanons?

@i-think-thereforee

OK HOLD ON AN ASK OK GIVE ME A MOMENT SO

I love that wet cat, he is a doofus and silly also most certainly a megolomaniac. I mean look at this sinister ass grin, that feller is brewing some fucked up shit

his goals are straight forward, gain back freedom, get revenge, kill everything on his way. He doesnt care about anyone or anything else, he gets the lamb to kill all his siblings, is more than happy to sacrifice followers to reach his goals faster, is very willing to kill the lamb once they outlived their use to him and even gets enraged when they refused, to him their life is owned to him

it hits especially hard when the metal album came out, his song has this moment where he goes "uncaring and calculating, as evident by my willingness to kill my own siblings and the lamb that faithfully served me. I see the lamb and the cultists as nothing more than tool to meet my ends" THAT KITBY IS EVIL, THE KITTY CAT DONT CARE

Now dont get me wrong, i dont actually think thats all he cares about. Actually, i just think thats what he tries to make himself believe is all he cares about

I mean look at the bishops lore, they were a semi functioning family at some point! But when narinder started exploring resurrection and methods of bringing back life, he threatened their livelihood, and they got scared

(i think it wouldnt have been the first time they spilled godly blood for their own safety, but perhaps it was the most painful, being the blood of thwir own brother. Also the claws probably hurt a whole lot but i wouldnt know)

i think he was megolomanic long before the betrayal, and i think he had trust issues with love long before that too, but an event like that would leave a lot of scars. I could maybe too refuse to love, trust, if something like that happened

honestly me thinks he cares a whole lot about those around him, i think he loves baal and aym like his kids, loves the bishops despite hating them too for their betrayal, the lamb too. I just also think he pushes those feelings away, surpresses and joy that doesnt come from having power and strength, nothing nice can be trusted

without the high ground godhood gives him, he has a lot less defences, and kinda has to go along with everything, and one of the few ways he can defend himself from everything nice is bitching cause "i never asked you to bring me flowers, stupid dumb dumb ugly vessel, i dont appreciate these, fuck you"

#cotl #cult of the lamb #cotl narinder #me yapping #no drawing with this cause i have too much irl stuff going on :(#sorry if these are boring i just mainly lean onto what i can see from canon #idk tho i could be wrong this is just what i think👍#love that evil cat tho <3

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smittenmeraki · 2 days ago

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I am currently laying in bed with a fever unable to sleep and Jerejean is haunting my brain...

I can play this lil scene in my head where Jean has been kinda off all day. Flinching away from everyone, hesitant to look anyone in the eyes, nearly shoved Jeremy to the ground because he accidentally snuck up beside him. After they get home Jean goes straight for his room, not bothering to turn on the light, he just hides away behind a mostly closed door. Jeremy notices the crack letting a little light in and takes it as an invitation. 'He cant really want to be alone if he didnt lock us out, maybe I can do something' so Jeremy creaks the door open and Jeans sitting on the floor, back against the bed with his head on his knees.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He doesnt respond "I cant help if I dont know the problem." He stirs a bit at this but doesnt move.

"This. You, the girls, I dont know how much i can handle" Jeremy barely hears him, he doesnt ever actaully open up, not fully. The panic sets in because Jeremy cannot mess up this opportunity, hes letting him help. But he doesnt understand what he means, so he walks over and sits across from him.

"What did we do wrong, so we can fix it. The last thing we want is to hurt you"

"Thats it, you haven't. I keep waiting for the other foot to drop, for someone to snap. I am Jean Moreau, I have never had...this. Kindness, the feeling of being..."

"Loved. Jean you are loved. By me, by Cat and Laila and Kevin. The pretty girl in the picture and I'm sure so many more. I know that must be terrifying given what you have endured, but that doesn't mean its bad. We will teach you how to be loved." Jeremy reaches out to him, gently making him look up. "You are going to be okay. Maybe not now, but one day" Jean looks up at him with tear filled eyes, so close to breaking. Unable to think of any other proof he could give him, he gives him a soft kiss on top of his head. Jeremy doesnt miss the jagged breath Jean takes and for a moment he thinks he messed up, but in the quietest voice hes ever heard from him, Jean asks "again?" So he does, he kisses his forehead, then his temple, his cheek, the other cheek, then he pulls his hands up and litters kisses over the scars on his knuckles.

"You are Jean Moreau" another kiss to his left hand "and you do not have to be scared." He leans forward and kisses his nose, "You are my Partner," the scar on his eyebrow, "you are Cat and Laila's roommate," The tears fall, "you are not a raven," he kisses those away, "and you are not what they did to you." Holding his face in his hands Jeremy makes him look him in the eye, "You are Jean Moreau and you deserve to be loved." To this, he lets it all out, breaking into a silent sob and he wraps himself around Jeremy, so he pulls him closer, puts a hand in his hair and whispers "I got you" over and over until he falls asleep.

I don't even know of this would be in character, I am not lying when I say I am delusionally sick, but I really hope we get another, more in depth moment of Jeremy conforming Jean (or vice versa 👀) 19 was a rough age for me and I didnt go through a quarter of the truama he did, he honestly needs so many more hugs.

#jean moreau #jeremy knox #jerejean #aftg #tsc #im cryin #i feel sick #like literally

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opiopal · 6 hours ago

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I genuinely need a nerdy Mc that puts season 1 Levi in his place bc oml

like listen listen, I’m aware that like, him being a nerdy otaku is his one thing he feel 100% confident in being, and honestly same dude I relate to that, HOWEVER. every time I remember that boy telling mc that they wouldn’t understand TSL a part of me wants to spite watch and read the entire series a million times over JUST to catch a detail not even he would know to rub it in his scaley FACE.(I’m sure that says a lot about me as a person lol)

But like, I also feel like it would be kinda fun? Cause imagine the two getting into an argument at every gap of silence, but it’s just them throwing facts about different series in each others faces. Standing up on either sides of the dinner table yelling whilst everyone sits there trying to process how they’ve done this five times today and still aren’t done bickering.

Levi shouts ”THAT WAS JUST A FAN THEORY! IT WAS NEVER CONFIRMED IN THE SHOW!!” ”NO. IT WAS CONFIRMED BACK IN 2017 ON THE CREATORS SECONDARY SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNT THAT IT WAS 100% TRUE! SEE YOU’D KNOW THAT IF YOU WERE A REAL FAN!” Mc retaliates, slamming their hands down onto the table,

“I DONT HAVE ACCESS TO HUMAN WORLD SOCIAL MEDIA!”

“MAYBE YOU WOULD IF YOU WERENT SUCH A PUS-“

luci finally cuts in, standing up himself to shout,

“BOTH OF YOU SIT DOWN AND SHUT YOUR MOUTHS.”

they both stop to look at him for a moment before they both reluctantly take their respective seats.

however once they finally get past their hatred, they become the most ANNOYING fans in the world and STILL won’t stop talking. However the brothers are just grateful they aren’t having screaming matches about what color some anime girls hair tie is.

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me shitpost #obey me imagines #obey me mc x levi(?)#obey me levi x mc(???)

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said-it-from-my-coffin · 2 days ago

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Intro post :D

“No one gives a shit, no one gives a shit, no one gives a shit, about my life”

☆I go by coffin on here

☆my favourite colour is green, but like the good greens if that makes sense (like emerald and sage)

☆I listen to lots and lots of music!!!!! (I love giving song recs or receiving music is just so special to me 🥰)

☆I am good to vent to so if you need anything lmk

☆marauders 4 ever!!!!

☆asks are a yes please!! I can do advice or just funny lil thing it honestly makes my day and makes me feel like a real person that people actually like and that im nit just a burden :3

☆can you deco my tree please

song of the week (updated 21/12/24)

“I was a dick, it is what it is, a habit to kick, the age old curse”

ooo my moots (I LOVE YOU ALL [PLATONICALLY]) (PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT YOU)

@therewasnofloorbtw @theprongspotter @your-neighbourhood-antisocial @aidens-ocean-galaxy @garden-of-runar @sunnys-picnic @kawaiibarty @bibeantransbean @burningleaf2x9 @permetutotheworld @circe-butbetter @avorthuades @aella-posts

"Dont you worry for me, its cool, its enough to survive"

Umm yeah idk wht I’m doin anyway bye have a great day :)

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shoganaiiii · 9 months ago

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human al

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starry-bi-sky · 4 months ago

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don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danyal al ghul au #dpxdc au #dp x dc au #dpxdc prompt #ive been playing cult of the lamb recently and you can tell #anyways i thought this was funny to think about. its specifically danyal al ghul bc that makes it even funnier #tfw you accidentally become a cult leader. rip to you danny you have a cult following #not at ALL an accurate depiction of a cult but i still think its funny. innaccurate cult depictions. ur in too deep to change it now danno #sam and tucker: hey dude... this is a cult | danny still learning how to People: what. no. these are all my friends and refugees.#his inner circle are all Insane about him they just show it in different ways. Sirius is as equally zealous as the rest they just don't #show it as much. which has mistakenly convinced danyal that they are the more logical one. no danny. they would kill for you #danny: i am being hospitable | sam: you created a cult | danny: i am being hosPITABLE #i dont like ghost king aus but i love danny being in positions of power it just has to feel earned. 'accidental kingdom acquisition' is my #favorite trope it just has to be done correctly. 🫵 build that bitch up with your bare hands and not realize until its too late you fool #'becoming a world power by accident and im in too deep to back out now'#danyal. a raised assassin (has no threshold for normal behavior): *sees utter devotion towards him* yeah this is fine and normal.#danyal: yk i dont see this ending horribly. *goes and collects more followers* yeah this is totally cool. welcome to the constellation #danyal: *saves a few people and houses them in his lair* (everyone liked that [to a worrying degree actually])#his inner circle: my moon! | danny: my stars :]#danny: ive become my grandfather. | danny: ... | danny: idk how to feel about that honestly.#those poor cultists that kidnapped antares were subjected to a 3hr tangent about 'the radiance of the Moon and his resplendent generosity'#before danyal found him and got him home. who were the cultists summoning? who knows! but they got Objectively the Worst out of the #constellation to summon by accident. actually they're all bad there's no picking who. they're all various amounts of Unhinged Danny just #Never Realizes It because he is also Unhinged and thinks some of this shit is normal.#like yeah thats totally normal behavior he has no questions whatsoever. this seems like Typical People Stuff.

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