#it's part of The Playlist™

[parameciam]

Just looking at you smiling

Just watching over you makes me feel at peace

I know this sounds foolish

But I’m afraid to go to you

Even if you don’t understand

It’s alright, it’s alright

Because there’s still a lot of time

Before spring comes

finished writing chapter three of my reincarnation au while barely seeing the screen between my own tears 😭 why do I do this to myself? I was sobbing so hard at several points 😭

who am I kidding, I regret nothing, but it hurts.

tomorrow I will look at it again and edit a bit, before my beta dives in.

then I will revise the outline for what's coming next, since there are several new and delicious ideas that need to be incorporated into the story.

but for now I'm in pain, and I feel so evil for making my bebbys go through this 😞

in my defense, chapter three is a beautiful chapter ;=; it may be the saddest one, tied with the one where the second to last incarnation of Yin Yu's soul appears.

[dreameroftheblue]

And guilty I may be But don't give up on me In the wake of the Odyssey We will still be thick as thieves You and me, still thick as thieves

[rottmnt-residuum]

Just wanna say that me and my friend have been gushing over this comic like crazy

Quick question tho

How do you guys not get burnt out making this? It's been running for years now, most comics I've read in fandoms have been cancelled bc the author became burnt out or not interested.

I love this comic so so much it gives me so much serotonin (and sadness /pos) I love it so much

i mean. it's because there's two of us, really.

a lot of residuum's momentum comes from mutual enthusiasm, and when one kind of... loses it, the other's just drags us along until it's back. and regardless of enthusiasm, we don't force ourselves to work on it if we can't.

on residuums part itself, it helps a lot that the story is entirely outlined. we don't really have to think that hard about what comes next because it's just one foot in front of the other at this point. the starts and stops you see in the story's schedule comes from executive dysfunction lmao

[musical-chick-13]

NO, AND I'M STARTING TO GET THE CREATIVITY SHAME™ AGAIN, THIS SUCKS.

[schumigrace]

Hey! Feel free to say no but I'd love to listen to your brocedes playlist if that's okay?

of course you can !!!! here it is😊

I might go through and add some new songs to it soon as I haven't touched it in a while, and there's definitely been some I've listened to recently that can go in there (aka have a single line that is relevant to a 2 second interaction between lewis and nico)

[seokjinsonlyone]

even more niche boyfriend things i think bts would do

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

namjoon:

not a newborn baby but is a big proponent of the kangaroo care concept; like loves to cuddle you while he’s shirtless; him on his back you laid on top of him, skin touching skin at every possible contact point; it does it for him every time

sends you pictures of animals he finds wandering around when he’s out and about 

takes soooo many pictures of you; don't get me wrong there's a fair share of couples photos like you're definitely taking selfies together whenever y'all go out but he takes twice as many off guard pictures of you as posed ones; definitely has a pic of you during golden hour forlornly looking out a window as his lockscreen

asks you to make him a playlist and listens to it whenever he misses you even if it's really disjointed and doesn't fit his mood simply bc you made it and he's always in the mood for you <333

learns to be more gentle around you so he becomes 5-7% less clumsy when you’re around

if you went to a party together i think there’d only be like one hour max where you’re separated from each other any more than that and y’all both start getting fidgety from missing each other bc if you’re in the same space you absolutely have to be together; when you do meet back up he tucks you up underneath his arm and kisses your temple and y’all are sickly cute for the rest of the night; like enough lovey dovey pda to make someone nauseous

always amazed at the amount of stuff you manage to bring out the house; like you'll come out after him and he sees you walking towards the car, arms stuffed to the brim with water bottles and lotions and umbrellas and whatever else you deemed necessary for the day's outings, so he has to rush to help you before you drop everything; eventually gets hip to the fact that you're a a girl and you're always gonna have bunch of things and starts pre-loading your belongings so you won't have to struggle

Oblivious Boyfriend™; as smart and emotionally intelligent and mindful as he is, he's not a mindreader; like he be so focused on his feelings for you, his passions, and his work that he lowkey don't know wtf going on outside of that; so if there's something going on around you or something wrong with you or you have a problem with him you're gonna have to spell it out lest he be none the wiser

doesn't like when you watch him work out because you're more of a distraction than anything but he does like going to you straight after working out; he gets a real kick out of the way you ogle him and feel up on his biceps while he's all pumped up 

he really likes when you call him cute nicknames; joon, joonie, joonie boonie, namu like it lowkey make his heart soar; his personal favorite is joon bug you call him that and he would literally steal the moon if you asked 

seokjin:

tests out all his new recipes on you; feeds you bites to taste along the way so you're not too hungry because he's a perfectionist and it takes him extra time for him to plate it; "the presentation is just as important as the taste!"

likes when you’re in the same room as him while he plays his games; not necessarily watching him but just your company is enough; switches between focusing on the game and engaging you in conversation so you won’t get bored; would actually love it if you did take an interest in whatever game he was playing; would take his time explaining the back story of each character and their strengths and weaknesses; would start a separate game so that you could play and have you sit between his legs while he helped you with the controls

has to kiss you at least 3 times before leaving the house; once when you wake up, once while you’re going through your morning routine, and once before you leave; more kisses may be shared but any less than three and he swears his whole day is thrown off

he’s going to pick at you; there’s just no way around it it’s in his nature; he won’t do it enough to make you actually annoyed but enough that you wanna smack him around a little; which… he likes things like that

has no problem singing and dancing whenever y'all are casually listening to music but if you actually wanted him to sing for you he'd get all shy, red in the ears and neck and would have to take a couple days to practice before following through

begs you to join him for tennis practice bc he wants you two to become the next venus and serena

y’all will do that one couples trend on tiktok where they paint each other and then reveal the pictures at the end and it’s not like yours is fantastic or anything but you can tell that you at least tried; meanwhile when you see seokjin’s painting you can’t tell if you’re looking at a distorted walrus or a possessed squirrel either way it is NOT you no matter how much he insists it looks like you

stays sending you thirst traps; like whenever he looks good whether it's bc he's all dolled up for some event or he's fresh out the shower with his hair slicked back or he just sees himself in a mirror and remembers he's worldwide handsome, his phone is out, he's putting a sultry look on his face, snapping a pic, and sending it straight to you

you binge watch animes together; no one will see or hear from either of y’all for like 5 days straight, complete radio silence; and when someone finally knocks on the door they see that y’all been camped out in the living room no phone in sight on season 6 of whatever anime y’all started last friday night  

must feed you every time you meet up; like if he has not seen you eat something in the time you spend together he has not completed his boyfriend duties; even if he comes to your place he has to make sure you have at least eaten a snack; doesn't matter how much you weigh he absolutely can not have you wasting away on his watch

yoongi:

gently tucks your hair behind your ear

always offers you his arm to link when it’s cold out so y’all can share each other’s warmth; he absolutely will still be wearing slides with no socks tho and you fuss at him about it every time

lets you play in his hair; just sits there nonchalantly while you give him the most ridiculous hair styles; pig tails, corn rows, mohawks; as long as you don’t cut nothing he doesn’t care fr; takes a picture when you’re done with that big gummy smile on full display bc of how silly he looks

says he's not a big social media person but one of his favorite past times is sitting down with you scrolling down your fyp for hours; makes you send the funniest videos to him so he can watch later

you’re one of the few people that he gains energy from being around so he likes your presence even when you’re not particularly doing anything; like you just be sitting next to each other or like be hand in hand on a walk around the neighborhood not even saying anything but in his head he’s thinking about what a great time he’s having 

if you're up late at night and start feeling peckish he'll make you some snacks even if he doesn't plan on eating; still scolds you about how eating late at night is bad as he's enabling you; ends up eating with you too

he doesn't like watching dramas with you; he'll claim it's bc of the plot but really he just doesn't like how you be kicking your feet and giggling at the male leads

not the best with verbal affirmations so whenever he does go out of his way to compliment you he ends up just as flustered as you are; “you look pretty today” and his cheeks are flushed more than yours 

always preps you to bargain and gathers together all coupons before y’all go grocery shopping; “just bc i’m rich doesn’t mean i like to be ripped off” 

he's always listening to you even when it seems like he's not; you could be rambling on about something and you think he's not paying attention so you stop midsentence and be like "are you even listening to what i'm saying?" and he looks up from whatever he was doing and then repeats back to you everything you said; has a great memory in general so he remembers everything you say and do even the small things that you forget about

hoseok:

sends ‘thinking of you’ texts just to let you know when you’re on his mind

if you start dancing to a song he gets all hyped up and he’s joining you immediately; hands on your hips moving you as he pleases; it’s a club wherever you and the music are

makes you one of his little beaded bracelets that says “ur my hope”

if you fell asleep in a position that looks uncomfortable he’d gently rearrange you until he got you in a more normal position; 100% the type to carry you bridal style to bed if you fell asleep for the night on the couch 

the type to pop up at your crib with an insane amount of the most exquisite, top tier take out and you gotta try to figure out who he think eating all this; doesn't even try to fight the boujee allegations when you tease him for bringing out caviar and truffles 

always takes pics of you when he thinks you look good; like you could be running late and you’re rushing trying to get out the door but hoseok is just gonna spend a good 30 seconds checking you out while you’re fussing at him and then be like wait a minute and starts posing you; has several organized folders of you because of this labeled by genre of your look; it’s easier that way so when he’s showing people pictures of you they won’t accidentally get a peek of something meant for his eyes only

loves the idea of you becoming his family so he really likes bringing you home; warms his heart to see you getting along with his parents and his sister; sets up a group chat with you him and his sister to help y'all talk more but lowkey gets pouty when y'all do get closer and be chatting and hanging out without him 💀

if you're not already together he'll facetime you in the morning; he won't have much to say at first other than a groggy good morning; but after he comes to terms with the fact that he has to be awake and takes a couple sips of his iced americano he's his usual ball of energy sunshiny self; will have you up doing morning stretches and light calisthenics at 6:30am

every couple weeks y'all go to the nail salon together and get mani-pedis; he leaves the acrylics and jewels and glitter to you but the overall color scheme and design aesthetic for your nails match; takes like 17 pictures of your hands together to show off

loves cuddling up to you on the couch so you can play in his hair; like each time his head is resting on your chest and your hand is running through his hair lightly scratching at his scalp he swears he’s reached nirvana 

jimin:

will drag you out the house in the middle of winter to drive down to the beach and watch the sunset together; you’d be huddled up together you sat in between his legs leaning against him his arms draped around your neck pulling you into him; you’d stay there sitting in the sand even after the night settled in just talking until you were shivering and sniffling then he’d take you to a cafe to get some hot cocoa to warm up 

randomly calls you in the middle of the night bc he misses your voice; smiles the entire he’s getting scolded for scaring you bc you thought something was wrong bc he called you at 2am

kisses your forehead, nose, and lips in that order every time you part ways 

hates knowing there's other people staring at you so like if you're out together and wearing like a hoodie or something and he notices you're garnering attention he zips it all the way up and pulls your hood over your head and tightens the strings so no one can see you; in turn knows you hate the thought that other people even think of him so he pretends they don't even exist; like you can literally point somebody out and be like "omg aren't they so pretty" and he's gonna avert his eyes in the opposite direction won't even look and just be like "you're so pretty. there's only you"

number one advocate for a lazy morning; snuggles into you, his head on your chest trapping you in; looks up at you with a goofy smile and preens when you press a kiss to his forehead

squishes your cheeks in both his hands when you're being too cute for him to handle

like the true feminist he is, he supports your rights and wrongs!!; like you get into it with somebody and then tell him the story afterwards he's hyping you up the entire time telling you that you were right and what you should've done and what he would've done if he were you; he's just always gonna be on your side

riles you up just bc he likes the reactions you make when you’re irritated 

it’s tea city when it comes to you two; like whatever you know he knows and whatever he knows you know; gossiping is actually one of your favorite bonding activities; he likes to play it up and drag it out whenever he finds something out; like he’s gonna text you and be like UR NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS!!!!! and you’ll be like WHAT and he’ll be like I HAVE TO TELL YOU IN PERSON OMG!!!! 😱 when it’s like noon knowing darn well he not getting off work until 10pm at the earliest 😭

likes to go with you when you have to “run errands” bc it’s usually just you doing girl things like getting coffee and then going to the store to buy snacks and skincare and he thinks it’s really adorable how you light up when you see small things in cute packages

taehyung:

has a series of like 12 hour logs in his phone recents list bc he stay falling asleep on facetime

makes it a point to hang out with your male friends just to assert dominance; doesn't matter if they have partners of their own or are completely uninterested in you he still wants to look them in their eye, shake their hand, and then put his arm around you to tie up any loose ends that may be dangling around

helps you pick the eyelashes out of your eye whenever one gets stuck

asks you to come over with the sole purpose of convincing you to take a nap with him; will straight up lie on the phone and tell you he wanna hang out and do this and that and then when you get over there he like let’s nap first; your cuddles just gon do it for him every time

uses kisses as bargaining chips; like if you need him to do something like idk take out the trash he's only gonna do it if you give him 3 kisses so you give him one as a down payment and the other 2 after he completes the task; (he was always gonna do what you asked but kisses make everything better)

likes to keep his hands free when he's out and about so he's always adding extra stuff to your purse; because he's always in your bag, he knows its exact content; you'll be frantically searching for your lip gloss and he'll ask what you're looking for and when you tell him he'll pull it out of some random side pocket he moved it to so he could make room for his stuff

will randomly wake up out of his sleep and call you just bc you crossed his mind; takes like 30 seconds to respond to anything you say bc he only half awake; the call lasts for like three minutes before he hangs up to go back to sleep 

as a big fan of roleplay at least once in your relationship he's gonna make y'all get all dressed up and go to a bar separately and act like strangers and he's gonna pretend to pick you up

if you sent him out to pick up period products last minute he’s the type that ask if you wanted lemon or lime flavor bc one package is yellow and the other is green 😭; alternatively would ask what’s your coochie size when he noticed the numbers on it

he’s not gonna let you win at any game you play; doesn’t matter how much you whine and pout he likes winning too much; god forbid you’re actually good at something he’s gonna try his very hardest and will even practice so that he eventually beats you; will give you all the prizes tho

jungkook:

if he gets bored while you’re asleep he’s gonna start messing with you; his favorite go to games are flicking your bottom lip until you tuck it in or start to gain consciousness and stacking cheerios on your forehead; his personal best is 9 of em 

hooks his chin over your shoulder to be nosy when you’re watching something on your phone that catches his attention

he understands that you’re not as nocturnal as he is but sometimes when you stay over at his place and he feels restless he can’t help but crave your attention; will wake you up at 4am gently with kisses so you can try some of the food he made; you’ll be half asleep with him kneeling in front of you feeding you some spicy noodles; he’ll patiently wait for you to finish chewing before he asks you if it’s good; makes you take at least one more bite before kissing your forehead and letting you go back to sleep; tucks himself up next to you about an hour later after he finishes cleaning up after himself 

you make funny tiktoks together; they never leave the drafts of course except for when he finds it particularly hilarious and sends it in the group chat 

threatens to beat up anyone who upsets you; like you tell him a story about someone who was upsetting you at work and his first response is "bring them to me. i'll take care of it"; and lord don't let someone get carried away at a club or something like if a guy starts hitting on you and won't take no for an answer before you can even tell them off he's already at the scene one shove away from being breaking news on every media outlet in the world

gets pouty when you have a night out without him but he understands the need for balance so doesn’t put up too much of a fight; his only stipulation is that if you can’t make it home on your own or your friends can’t drop you off that you always always call him; the thought of you getting into some randos car late at night when you’re not even mentally there all the way sends chills up his spine; he can’t sleep unless he knows you’re at home safe and sound anyway 

doesn't consciously have a preference for how you dress like he thinks you look good in whatever but you in a dress or a skirt itches a particular part of his id that would have carl jung doing backflips; like whenever you pop out in a dress or a skirt he's coming up to you and giving you a kiss on the lips while his arms wrap around your waist and 10-30 seconds later they're dropping down and his hands are toying with the ends of your garment and grazing your thighs underneath it; it just does it for him every time

you're his safe place <333; he goes through periods where you're the only person he wants to see; he will scare you half to death like you'll get off work and go home and you hear all this noise and whole time it's him in your kitchen making sandwiches for lunch; will make up for scaring you by tucking your face into his neck while his arms are wrapped tightly around you so he can breathe you in and then cupping your face and giving you kisses; you're his baby

you have matching hyperfixations; like one of you will get into something and won’t shut up about it and then being the supportive partner you are whenever you’re on social media you send the posts you stumble across to them; but then the algorithm picks up on it and the content keeps popping so often that you actually start being entertained by it too; then y’all won’t shut up about it and have inside jokes and no one ever knows what y’all are talking about bc it’s so deep down into the referential millennial dadaism

gets offended if you’re walking side by side and not touching in some way; like if you start walking ahead of him or something he’s gonna clear his throat very pointedly and when you look at him like ???? he’s gonna look at you like you’re stupid and pull you into him where you belong 

a/n: as promised she is back 🫡 thank you to everyone who encouraged me to repost 💕 pls continue to be kind my mental state is probably worse than it was before LOL

[peterm4rker]

from the rooftops || m.l

in which biochemistry major mark lee didn’t have time to be swinging around the city fighting crime when he had a chemistry report due in two days and a whole plan to make the girl of his dreams to fall in love with him before the new years party.

or

in which journalism major y/n l/n needed her ground breaking story of the year before fuckass yuna took her place in the college newspaper and decided her favorite superhero was the answer, all while trying to get that cute biochem student to notice her.

★ pairing ;; spiderman!mark x journalist!reader

★ genres ;; social media au, written parts, superhero au, slowburn, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers.

★ featuring ;; ph1, aespa, bnd, riize, xikers, other nct units.

★ warnings ;; profanity, sexual jokes and innuendos, death jokes, alcohol use, maybe weed consumption, very mild stalking, let me know if theres more!

★ status ;; ongoing!

★ updates ;; new chapter every monday and thursday !!

★playlist ;; tba...

★ taglist ;; open!

★ blue's corner ;; i cant be peterm4rker without writing a spidermark au, can i? but anywaysss, i love yall enjoy this as much as i know ill enjoy writing it!

★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!!

we know what you are || store bought avengers

zero. hey guys…

one. you could do that

two. not quite

three. or so he thought (written)

four. LOCKED IN

five. MARK LEE 🫵🏼

six. mission accomplished

seven. you hate me cuz you aint me💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻

eight. who lied to you

nine. YOU BROKE ME FIRST

ten. the girl in the green beetle (written)

eleven. the bar is in hell

twelve. PREACH🙏🙏

thirteen. i should've ran

fourteen. NOT IT

fifteen. singles speak up✊🏻

sixteen. what a loser

seventeen. surprise picnic (written)

eighteen. crisis adverted

nineteen. I WISH I WAS😭

twenty. creepy as hell

twenty one. yn protectors

twenty two. the creep ™

twenty three. the conundrum

twenty four. mark fucking lee

twenty five. the start of the end

twenty six. idc😛

twenty seven. the date (written)

twenty eight. DAMN

twenty nine. im not this mans daughter

© peterm4rker, 2024-2025

[nanamineedstherapy]

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Trigger Warnings: Verbal abuse, grief, and loss, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Redemption Arc, Mild Violence, Emotional Hurt, Disassociation, Depression.

A/N: Before you start reading—Daddy Toji is here!!! Rejoice!!! Welcome to Lobotomy Kaisen: Existential Crisis Edition™! 🎭 This chapter has everything: unhinged family banter, unexpected sweetness, and emotional trauma disguised as plot development. Let’s get into it before Megumi sends the SWAT team after us! Also, I know I said this ending was supposed to be only 3 parts, but it spiraled into a huge monster, so it will be 3 more parts, but it's already written, so hopefully the updates will be consistent every 2 or 3 days. :)

Previous Chapter 6 (alt ending 1.2) - Veiled Realities (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 7 (alt ending 1.3) - Sapphire Echoes

Gumi: Why did you invite them to your place?!

Gumi: I’m coming over, and if I find them there, I’ll kill them!

// Playlist

The sunlight was golden, warm, and gentle, streaming through the large windows of a house you didn’t recognize but somehow felt like home. The faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air, mingling with the soft hum of laughter as you walked outside the house.

“Alright, gremlins,” Gojo announced, spinning on his heel. “Today, Daddy is going to teach you how to fight. It’s all about flair and finesse.”

Nanami, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed, let out a long, suffering sigh. “You’re not their only father, and they don’t need flair. They need discipline and control.”

Gojo turned, gasping like Nanami had just insulted his very existence. “Discipline? Control? What are we, accountants?”

“I wasn’t an accountant; I was an investment broker. There’s a difference; I wouldn’t expect your non-college graduate ass to understand,” Nanami deadpanned, adjusting his glasses.

“Exactly my point!” Gojo shot back, pointing a finger at him. “That’s why they need me. To balance out your boring lectures.”

“Balance?” Nanami arched an eyebrow. “You’ve never balanced anything in your life, including your own emotions.”

Their nine-year-old daughter, golden-haired and mischievous, stood between them, bouncing on her toes with excitement. “Daddy, can I use Ratio to mess with people? Like... cut the hair of the boy I like?”

Gojo’s grin widened, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. “Now that’s my girl. Even I didn’t think of that!”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. You cannot use cursed techniques for petty pranks. It will get you suspended or arrested.”

“But what if it’s a really good prank?” She countered, her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.

Gojo crouched down beside her, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Don’t listen to him. Petty pranks are the best kind.”

“Absolutely not,” Nanami snapped, his tone sharper now. “You’re already too much like him.”

The girl beamed, taking it as a compliment. “Thanks, Dada!”

You, standing off to the side, covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “You have given birth to female Gojo, Ken. She’s your little chaos gremlin. Just accept it.”

“She’s your chaos gremlin too,” he muttered, shooting you a look that said he blamed you for this. Gojo was very smug about the fact, not even attempting to hide it.

Meanwhile, their son stood off to the side, arms crossed and a perpetual frown etched onto his face. His white hair fell into his blue eyes, which were narrowed in quiet judgment.

“This is stupid,” he muttered, his voice carrying all the weight of some adult who thought he knew better than everyone else.

Nanami turned to him, his expression softening slightly. “What’s ridiculous?”

“All of it,” the boy replied, gesturing vaguely at his sister and Gojo, who were now snickering about the ethical implications of using ratio to cheat at board games. “They’re wasting time.”

Gojo overheard and gasped. “Wasting time? I’m teaching valuable life skills here!”

The boy didn’t even blink. “You’re teaching her how to be annoying.”

“Exactly!” Gojo said, throwing his arms wide. “And what’s more important than that?”

“Literally everything,” the boy replied flatly, his tone so deadpan that even Nanami’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Alright, enough talk,” Gojo declared, clapping his hands together. “Let’s spar. Chaos Gremlin versus Mr. Rainy Day.”

Their daughter lit up, bouncing on her toes. “Yes! I’m gonna crush you!”

The boy sighed, stepping into position. “You’re going to lose.”

“Over my dead body,” she shot back, her energy already crackling around her.

Nanami and Gojo stood on opposite sides of the field, both offering advice at the same time.

“Focus on control!” Nanami called out.

“Forget control! Style is everything!” Gojo yelled.

You stood between them, arms crossed. “How about we let them figure it out without shouting conflicting advice?”

Both men glared at each other but stayed quiet—for about five seconds.

The sparring began, their cursed techniques clashing in a brilliant display. The boy moved with focus, his infinity stretching around him. His sister, on the other hand, darted around unpredictably, her movements wild but effective, her ratio blades slicing through the air like a scalpel.

“Don’t just stand there, Emo Kid!” Gojo hollered. “Go for the win!”

“Precision,” Nanami muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on his son. “Wait for her to make a mistake.”

“She doesn’t make mistakes,” Gojo countered. “She’s perfect.”

“You’re impossible,” Nanami replied, his voice flat.

//

When the sparring ended, both kids were panting but grinning, their energy buzzing in the air around them.

“You did great,” you said, taking both their hands. “Both of you.”

“Better than great,” Gojo added, ruffling his son’s hair. “You’re unstoppable.”

Nanami knelt beside his daughter, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’ve improved. But don’t get cocky.”

“Too late,” she replied, grinning up at him.

Letting go of your hands, the children ran ahead, their laughter blending with the rustling leaves as they played with their blobfish plushies.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the scene as it settled into something softer, something whole.

You watched them with awe, your heart full to bursting. “They are beautiful.”

Gojo winked at you. “Of course they are. Look at their parents.”

Nanami glanced at you, his hazel eyes warm. “You’ve done well.”

The sun was now setting, casting the world in hues of orange and pink.

Gojo slid an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “See? Told you we’d make a great team.”

Nanami stood on your other side, his presence grounding. “You should sit,” he said softly, gesturing to a bench beneath a blooming cherry blossom tree.

You sat, watching the children play as the two men sat beside you, their presence comforting and familiar.

The boy turned, his bright blue eyes locking onto yours. “Mama, are you happy?” he asked, his voice carrying an innocence that made your chest tighten.

Tears pricked your eyes as you nodded. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m very happy.”

The world shifted abruptly. The warmth of the sun faded, replaced by the cold gray light of dawn filtering through your bedroom curtains.

You opened your eyes slowly, the weight of the dream pressing against your chest like a heavy stone.

Your cheeks were damp, but as you raised a trembling hand to touch them, you realized your eyes were dry. No tears fell. You were too numb for that now.

The laughter, the warmth, the love—it had all been a cruel illusion. The reality of your empty arms and silent home was suffocating.

Sukuna’s voice broke the silence from the doorway. “Another bad night?”

You didn’t answer, your gaze fixed on the sea outside the window. The waves rolled endlessly, a reflection of the ache in your chest.

“They’re still yours,” his words a faint echo of something he’d said before.

But they weren’t.

And they never would be.

---

// Playlist

Few years ago

The streets glistened with rain, neon signs shimmering in puddles as the faint hum of late-night activity drifted through the cool air. You walked at an easy pace, your heels clicking softly against the pavement. The buzz of alcohol warmed your veins. Tonight, the world seemed softer, its edges blurred, though your mind remained sharp, processing everything around you with clarity.

Gojo Satoru leaned lazily against the post, his white hair catching the glow like freshly fallen snow. Beside him, Nanami Kento stood with his frown deepened by the chill in the air.

“She’s late,” Gojo said in Japanese, glancing at his phone. His voice carried a teasing lilt, though his gaze lingered on the street, betraying his anticipation.

“She doesn’t strike me as someone who cancels plans without notice,” Nanami replied evenly, though his hands tightened slightly in his coat pockets.

Gojo smirked. “Oh? Nanamin’s been paying attention.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Before their banter could escalate, you turned the corner, your long coat swaying with your stride. Your hair, tousled by the breeze, framed a face softened by warmth and openness, an unusual sight for someone as composed as you.

Gojo’s eyes lit up as he nudged Nanami, practically bouncing on his feet. “Nanamin! It’s her! Pretty hoodie lady!” He exclaimed in English, pointing at you like a kid spotting their favorite toy in a store.

Nanami groaned audibly, pressing his palm to his face. “Could you not yell across the street like a lunatic?”

But Gojo wasn’t listening. He was already halfway to you, his enthusiasm cutting through the chill like a warm gust of wind.

“Hey! Pretty hoodie lady!” Gojo’s voice rang out.

“Gojo,” Nanami called after him as he followed. “Don’t run off—”

But you didn't hear and turned in the direction Nanami was coming from.

You suddenly collided with your nose smushing into something firm and expensive-smelling.

“Watch where you're going, you...”

“Careful there,” Nanami’s voice came, smooth and tinged with dry amusement.

Gojo skidded to a halt, his grin growing impossibly wider.

You took a step back, studying them with a raised brow. Recognition flickered as you met their gazes. “Oh, it’s you two.”

“You remember us!” Gojo exclaimed, his English broken but still managing to convey his excitement. However, it was better than the last time. Had he been practicing?! His voice carried a note of pride, as if he’d accomplished something monumental by being memorable.

“Oh, it’s mysterious hoodie lady,” Gojo added, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Nanami said, his tone measured, though his eyes flicked over you briefly, assessing and ensuring you were unharmed.

“Gentlemen,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Fancy bumping into me.” The alcohol humming through your veins lent a teasing edge to your voice. “But I’m not mad—unless you’re boring. Then we’ll have problems.”

Gojo tilted his head, squinting in confusion. “What she say?”

Nanami sighed, his patience thinning. “She’s challenging you not to be boring.”

“Ohhh!” Gojo’s grin widened, his excitement bubbling over. “I am never boring!”

Nanami questioned. “We didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You’re not disturbing me,” you replied, your voice warm but measured. “Though, I didn’t expect to see you two again.”

Gojo grinned, his English fumbling but earnest. “We... walking! Saw you!”

Nanami raised an eyebrow, muttering under his breath, “Walking, my ass.”

You chuckled softly, your eyes briefly catching Nanami’s. Without the hood obstructing your vision, you saw warmth and intensity, like the first rays of sunlight breaking through winter’s chill. His gaze wrapped around you, offering solace in a chaotic world, igniting a warmth within you that spread like a soft glow. In that fleeting moment, it felt as if he had touched your soul, awakening a longing for something deeper, something beautifully profound.

Your gaze shifted to Gojo, his eyes peeking over dark sunglasses—a brilliant blue that seemed to hold entire galaxies within them. Time stood still, the world around you fading into a soft blur. You had never seen such eyes—vivid and alive, sparkling with mischief and depth, as if they could read the very essence of your soul. They were the kind of eyes poets raved about, capable of igniting a fire in your heart and weaving a spell

You quickly looked away from the radioactive orbs in the name of eyes he had; it seemed the alcohol was getting to you.

Nanami cleared his throat. “Can we walk you home? It’s late.” His tone even but laced with genuine concern

You nodded your head, your smile softening.

Unbeknownst to you, the men were nearly high-fiving behind you—at least they would have if Nanami weren’t busy trying to engrave your face into his memory. It had taken Gojo standing atop the tallest building to find you. They were supposed to leave the night they met you at the convention, but Yaga had yelled at them to come back every hour since. Yet, they still didn’t know your full name or anything else about you.

“He’s like a Samoyed in human form,” you mused aloud, tilting your head as you studied Gojo.

Gojo almost froze, blinking rapidly. “Samo... what?”

“A Samoyed,” you repeated, grinning. “You know, the big fluffy white dogs that are always happy and smiling?”

Gojo’s jaw dropped. “You think I’m fluffy?”

“Fluffy and cheerful,” you clarified.

Nanami snorted softly, but you turned to him before he could speak. “And you,” you said, gesturing toward him, “you’re... a grumpy Akita Inu. Specifically Hachikō.”

Gojo immediately burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “Grumpy Akita! Nanamin, that’s so you!”

Nanami’s lips pressed into a thin line, his brows furrowing as he shot Gojo a sharp look. “Stop laughing.”

“But she’s right!” Gojo wheezed, wiping at his eyes behind his sunglasses. “You’re dependable and serious, waiting around like some tragic hero.” He spoke half the words in Japanese.

Nanami ignored him, his attention shifting to you instead, expression unreadable. “Hachikō, the dog known for its loyalty?”

You nodded, your tone softening. “Yeah. Always dependable, always waiting, even when people don’t deserve it. That being said, I wouldn’t wish Hachikō’s fate on you.”

For a moment, his expression flickered—something thoughtful, maybe even vulnerable, passing through his eyes before he nodded. “I see.”

Gojo, however, was still basking in the revelation. “Fluffy and adorable. That’s me!” he declared.

“Adorable is debatable,” Nanami muttered under his breath, earning another laugh from you.

Before Gojo could respond, you added, “Speaking of dogs, have you heard of Etah ?”

Both men’s curiosity piqued.

“Etah was the first dog to reach the South Pole,” you began. “She led Roald Amundsen’s expedition in 1911, surviving the harshest conditions imaginable. A Samoyed, of course—happy, dependable, and heroic. Out of 52 dogs on the expedition, only 12 survived tragically.”

Nanami was live translating for you and Gojo.

Gojo’s grin faltered, replaced by an expression of awe. “Wait, a dog did that? Like, first to the South Pole?”

You nodded, your gaze steady on him. “Exactly. She led the way, braved the cold, and ensured the expedition’s success. And after all that, she lived out her life as a cherished companion to royalty.”

Nanami’s brows rose slightly, his stoicism softening as he murmured, “A testament to loyalty and resilience.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, your excitement bubbling beneath the surface. “She’s a symbol of courage and adaptability. Like Hachikō, but with a touch of adventure.”

Gojo leaned closer, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. “So, you’re saying I’m like Etah? A heroic, adventurous dog with a happy ending?”

You smirked, tilting your head. “Sure, if you can brave the cold and not get distracted by every snowflake.”

Nanami’s lips twitched into the faintest smile. “I think you’d get lost in the snow, Gojo.”

“Hey!” Gojo shot back, his grin unwavering. “That’s what I’d have you for, Nanamin. My loyal Akita, leading the way.”

Nanami sighed heavily, but the faint flush creeping up his neck didn’t escape your notice.

“Of course you’d need him,” you teased, your tone light but cutting. “Not every hero dog gets to live out their life with royalty.”

Gojo’s grin turned thoughtful, a rare flicker of sincerity breaking through his usual bravado as he spoke in half English, half Japanese. “Well, if you’re the royalty, I’m in.”

Nanami muttered something under his breath, his gaze flickering to you for a moment longer than necessary. For all the absurdity of Gojo’s antics, he wasn’t entirely immune to the pull of your presence.

“So, you both are sorcerers?” You asked, walking ahead. You were curious about their techniques. Otherwise, you would have ignored them as Megumi had advised.

Both men froze for a moment. Then Nanami cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. It seems your friend told you about us.”

“All good things, I hope!” Gojo chimed in.

You glanced at him, amused. “Something like that. If it’s okay, could you explain your techniques to me?” You asked, still looking ahead, your expression serene.

Gojo leaned toward Nanami. “What’s she saying now?”

“She wants us to explain our techniques,” Nanami replied in Japanese, his voice deadpan.

Gojo blinked, clearly delighted. “Oh! You want to know my power?”

“Yes,” you said, your tone calm but your eyes sharp.

Both men noted your reluctance to discuss the man with the sea urchin hair, but Nanami was feeling unusually chatty, so he began explaining while Gojo confused you the entire time and interrupted every few seconds with exaggerated gestures and broken English, insisting that his “Infinity is best!”

As the conversation continued, you noticed how Gojo’s childlike enthusiasm and Nanami’s quiet attentiveness complemented each other. There was something grounding about their presence, something that made the world feel a little less chaotic.

“I’m starting to see why you two balance each other out,” you said, your lips twitching with amusement.

Nanami’s gaze flicked to you, a faint softness in his eyes. “Balance isn’t the word I’d use.”

Gojo, oblivious to the subtleties, beamed. “She thinks we team!”

Both men were observing your wit.

“She’s interesting,” Nanami said lowly to Gojo in Japanese, his tone understated but firm.

Gojo grinned, his gaze lingering on the back of your head a few steps ahead. “Interesting doesn’t even cover it.”

//

They hadn't planned for this. The warm glow of overhead lights reflected off the rain-slick streets outside, adding a cozy intimacy to the atmosphere. You, Nanami, and Gojo were tucked into a booth near the window, the warmth seeping into your hands as you warmed them on the small portable heater near the table.

Nanami sat across from you while Gojo had wedged himself into the seat beside you, his energy a contrast to the café ’s tranquil ambiance.

“You seem... relaxed tonight,” Nanami observed, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity. His gaze flicked briefly to your flushed cheeks before settling back on your eyes.

“I’m in a good mood,” you replied, the mischief in your tone evident as you leaned back against the booth. “A productive day, good company, and now, a surprise reunion.”

Gojo perked up, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned in closer. “You like surprises?”

“Depends on the surprise,” you replied, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you met his gaze. “This one isn’t bad.”

Nanami cleared his throat, steering the conversation. “You mentioned good company earlier. Were you out with friends?”

“My CHRO,” you said casually, taking a sip of your drink.

Gojo frowned, his brows knitting together. “CH... R... O?”

Nanami sighed, his tone weary but patient. “Chief Human Resources Officer.”

“Oh!” Gojo’s face lit up like he’d just solved a riddle. “Office talk!”

You chuckled softly, your smile enigmatic. “Something like that. But enough about me. What about you two? What brings you out tonight?”

Gojo tilted his head toward Nanami, grinning. “Fate!”

Nanami groaned under his breath. “Don’t mind him. We were... exploring the city.”

Your raised eyebrow and faint smile told them you weren’t convinced, but you let it slide.

The server approached, her eyes lingering on Nanami and Gojo a moment too long as asking them, ignoring you. “What can I get you all tonight?”

You grinned, too tipsy to notice the slight snub. “Surprise me.”

Gojo continued looking at your smile subtly—which wasn’t very subtle to Nanami—his voice rude. “Same for me.” The server’s pettyness had not escaped his six eyes.

Nanami ordered black coffee, his tone clipped as usual. He wasn’t trying to be rude; people often misinterpreted his demeanor as arrogance or indifference. Well, the indifference part was true.

You stared at him in mock disbelief. “Black coffee? At this hour? You’re the most boring person I’ve ever met.” You didn’t really mind; hell, you chugged black coffee by the gallon on work nights; you just wanted to see how he’d react to teasing.

Nanami arched an eyebrow, his lips curving ever so slightly. “And yet, here you are.”

Damn, he was smooth.

Your laugh rang out, light and melodic, catching Gojo’s attention. His grin softened as he glanced at Nanami, something unspoken passing between them.

//

After some time, the three of you stood near the counter. The waitress smiled and handed over the bill with a smile directed solely at Nanami and Gojo. You, however, were laser-focused on the receipt, your eyes narrowing as you reached into your coat pocket.

“I’ve got this,” you said firmly, already pulling out your wallet. It’s not like you didn’t let people pay for you. Paying for you was a privilege they hadn’t earned yet. Men had a way of starting to expect things after spending even a little money, and you had learned that the hard way.

“Absolutely not,” Nanami countered, already pulling out his own wallet. His tone was calm, but the sharpness in his eyes screamed ‘ chivalry or death .’

“Wait, wait, wait!” Gojo interjected, his sunglasses slipping as he reached into his coat. “I got this! Sugar mommy powers activated!”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown. “Gojo, you can’t be a sugar mommy. You’re a sugar baby at best.”

Gojo gasped, clutching his chest as if you’d mortally wounded him. “I’m offended! I’m both!”

Before you could respond, Nanami stepped between you two, his wallet already open. “Enough. This isn’t up for debate. I’ll handle it.”

You weren’t having it. “You think I can’t pay?” You challenged, stepping closer to Nanami like you were about to square up.

Nanami blinked, caught off guard. “This isn’t about capability. It’s about manners.”

“Oh, hell no , Nanami,” you snapped, whipping out your American Express Centurion Card like a weapon. The black card gleamed under the café lights as you waved it in his face. “You think I can’t pay? Watch me!”

Gojo, delighted, leaned toward Nanami and whispered in Japanese, “She’s challenging your honor, man.”

Nanami shot him a glare before turning back to you. “It’s courtesy.”

A mischievous grin tugged at your lips. “Then courteously let me pay.”

Gojo, now leaning dramatically over the counter, held up his own card—a flashy platinum piece that looked like it had seen better days. “Mine’s shinier!”

“Shut up, Gojo!” Both you and Nanami barked simultaneously.

Nanami placed his card on the counter, only for you to slap it away with a quick flick of your wrist. “Denied!”

Gojo cackled, tossing his card onto the counter like it was a poker chip. “Bet you can’t top this!”

You scoffed, “Oh, you wanna play? I brought backups.” Pulling your wallet open wider, revealing the JP Morgan Reserve Card, the Dubai First Royale MasterCard, and the Coutts World Silk Card nestled inside. 

Gojo’s jaw dropped, his English breaking. “You... you have... many shinies !”

Nanami’s eye twitched as he reached for his card again, but you weren’t having it. “Stay in your lane, Mr. Black Coffee!”

“Don’t push me,” Nanami warned.

“I’ll will,” you shot back, your grin unhinged.

Finally, Gojo stepped back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, you win,” he said, nodding toward your Centurion Card. “Black card... scary.”

You smirked, triumphant. “Damn right.”

Nanami glared at Gojo and asked him in Japanese, “Don’t you have that card too?”

Gojo rubbed the back of his head and answered, “I do, but I forgot it in Japan.”

Nanami, however, was far from relenting. “This isn’t over,” he muttered, placing his Rakuten Bank Super Premium Card on top of yours with the quiet determination of a man who had never lost a battle of principles.

“Nanami,” you said, leaning closer, your tone deceptively sweet, eyelashes fluttering up at him, like you were asking for a puppy and not his honour, “are you really going to do this?”

“Yes,” he deadpaned.

“Fine.” You whispered in his ear, slightly closer, with your villainous energy directed at the wrong man. “But I will win.”

If Nanami was a weaker man, his resolve would have cracked.

Gojo, watching the scene unfold with stars in his eyes, clapped his hands together and yelled in Japanese. “This is the best date ever.”

Nanami was too busy not to get a hard on in public to glare at Gojo.

The poor cashier, overwhelmed, finally chose your card just to end the madness. You released Nanami with a victorious grin; your card already swiped.

“I told you,” you said smugly, slipping your wallet back into your coat pocket. Then took out your pen to sign.

Nanami sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re impossible.”

You laughed. “Don’t worry, Nanami. Next time, you can fight me for it. Winner pays.”

Gojo whispered loudly in Japanese. “She’s rich, Nanamin! Like, sugar mommy rich!” All his dreams of finding a fractos mother were coming true even though he was already rich.

Nanami groaned, his chivalry bruised but intact, ears red.

Gojo ignored him, turning to you with a wide grin. “You... pay for my snacks forever?”

You tilted your head, amused. “Why? Can’t you afford them?”

Nanami, sensing an opportunity, leaned toward Gojo and said in Japanese, “She asked if you’d like to pay her back by taking her trash out.”

Gojo’s grin faltered. “Trash?” he echoed, confused.

You chuckled, sensing the exchange but choosing not to pry. “Don’t worry, Gojo. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Gojo’s grin returned in full force. “I love you!”

Nanami was grateful Gojo didn’t know English for ‘I love you’ yet, or you’d get a restraining order.

As the transaction completed, the two men subtly—or not so subtly—took stock of your outfit to try and assess how rich you were in order to conclude what you did for a living.

“Shoes,” Nanami whispered to Gojo in Japanese.

“Designer,” Gojo answered after a glance.

“Coat?”

“Custom.” Gojo replied, then asked, “Watch?”

“Limited edition.”

Gojo’s eyes sparkled as you turned back. “You... very stylish!” he declared in his adorable English, giving you a thumbs-up.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Thank you, Gojo. You’re very observant.”

Nanami sighed. “You’re enabling him.”

“I think it’s endearing,” you replied with a soft laugh, your gaze briefly meeting Nanami’s. “Besides, you two are fun. And rare.”

Gojo turned to Nanami, grinning. “She said we’re rare! Like Pokémon!”

Nanami muttered something under his breath, but his ears were bright red now.

As the three of you stepped back into the rain-kissed streets, Gojo bounded ahead, clearly pleased with the outcome of the evening, while Nanami lingered at your side, his mind still piecing together the puzzle of who you really were.

“You’re quite mysterious,” Nanami remarked finally, his voice low enough that Gojo couldn’t hear.

You smiled knowingly. “And you’re quite perceptive.”

Nanami’s lips twitched into the faintest smile as Gojo spun around, his arms outstretched. The conversation shifted as the three of you continued walking, your strides falling into an easy rhythm.

You briefly caught Nanami’s gaze before glancing up at the night sky. “It’s a nice night, isn’t it? You can even see a few stars despite the city lights.”

Nanami followed your gaze. “Surprising, given the light pollution.”

Gojo squinted at the sky, then at you. “They pretty like you.”

Nanami’s eyes widened.

You laughed; the sound light and melodic. “Not quite; you are the star.” You paused, thinking, then continued. “Like our sun—bright, strong, impossible to miss. You keep things alive, but you burn so intensely that it’s hard for people to get close enough to truly understand you.”

Gojo’s grin faltered, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “Sun... me?”

You nodded, turning to Nanami. “And you... you’re like a lighthouse. Constant, steady, always guiding. People only notice when they need you, but you’re always there, no matter what.”

Nanami stiffened, his stoicism betraying a hint of vulnerability. “You have a way with metaphors.”

You smiled, shrugging. “Maybe I’m drunk. Or maybe I’m just observant.”

Gojo perked up. “You ultraviolet rays.”

You looked at him, speechless.

Nanami smacked his head. “That’s rude.”

Gojo rubbed the back of his head and explained in Japanese, “What? It provides vitamin D synthesis, photosynthesis, and regulation of biological rhythms. She is smart and strong. Tell her in English.”

Nanami sighed and translated as you blushed, glancing at Gojo, who looked particularly proud of himself.

But Nanami wouldn’t back down easily. “I think you are like the North Star; you provide direction and clarity to those around you. Constant in the night sky, you are reliable. Most people might not notice you for your worth, but your influence is profound, much like how your contributions, though sometimes invisible, are vital and impactful.”

You hid your face in your collar, turning away as you walked, your blush deepening.

“So,” you asked, breaking the awkward silence after a beat, “what’s your favorite food?”

“He likes sandwiches, and I love sweets!” Gojo exclaimed immediately, his enthusiasm palpable.

You grinned. “Me too. In reasonable quantities.”

Nanami exhaled faintly. "Oh, thank God.”

You ignored his quip, focusing back on Gojo. “Do you like dark chocolate?”

Gojo nodded fervently. “Yes! With... strawberries!” Nanami hummed in agreement as well.

“Good taste,” you said approvingly. “But since you like sweets, I think you’d enjoy something from my country. It’s warm, soft, and melts in your mouth. Perfect for a night like this.”

Gojo’s eyes lit up. “I want! You make?”

Nanami tensed at Gojo’s words. “Please forgive him; he’s too enthusiastic.”

You tilted your head, studying Gojo while waving away Nanami's concerns with your hand. “Maybe. But first, lower your Infinity.” Then turned to Nanami and added, “And your ratio thing.”

Nanami’s brows shot up. “That’s a strange request.”

Gojo hesitated, glancing between you and Nanami. “Why?”

You shrugged, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Because I asked nicely.”

Gojo huffed, muttering something in Japanese that sounded suspiciously like “fine,” before lowering his Infinity.

Without warning, you lunged, fingers digging into his sides as you tickled him mercilessly. Halfway through, you felt his hard muscles—he looked built, like a well-defined wall.

“W-what?!” Gojo shrieked, laughter bubbling uncontrollably as he tried to fend you off. “Stop! Evil lady!”

You stepped back, smirking. “I wasn’t expecting you to agree so easily. You trusted me so adorably—I couldn’t resist. Consider this a free lession.” You laughed, then your tone softened. “But really, I wanted to touch your hand. I wanted to know how your skin feels.”

Gojo blinked, his laughter fading as his cheeks flush. Nanami was trying to hide his face.

You extended your hand to both men. “Come on. If you’re interested, I’ll make you that sweet. It’s worth the walk.”

Nanami sighed. “Are you sure? We don’t want to impose; it’s pretty late.”

You smiled and nodded.

Both men immediately offered their hands to you.

These two would go to war for you—just for your smile, no hesitation.

//

By the time you reached your place, the warmth of the alcohol had faded, leaving you pleasantly sleepy.

“You two are coming in,” you declared, unlocking the door.

Nanami frowned. “That’s not necessary—”

“It’s cold,” you interrupted, pushing the door open. “And I’m making sweets. Come in or stay out, your choice.”

Gojo practically dragged Nanami inside, kicking off his shoes with a grin.

The warmth of your penthouse greeted you as you led them inside, shedding your coat. The men had noticed the extreme security while entering your building, and your place looked expensive, leading them to deduce you were more than averagely wealthy.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” you said, heading toward the kitchen.

Gojo immediately flopped onto your couch, poking at the cushions, while Nanami stood awkwardly near the door, his posture still composed.

“Do you always invite strangers into your home?” Nanami asked, his tone laced with mild disapproval.

“Only the ones who lower their Infinity and that cutting thing for me,” you replied with a grin.

Nanami sighed but his lips twitched, hinting at a smile. “It’s called ratio blades.”

You nodded, washed your hands and began preparing the syrup and dough.

As you worked, Gojo wandered around your living room, poking at your figurines—most of them from your own company’s games—and photos. “Cats! So many cats!”

“I like cats,” you said simply, rolling the dough into perfect spheres.

Nanami joined Gojo, his gaze landing on a framed self-portrait you had taken a long time ago. “Did you take all these?”

You nodded. “Photography’s my thing. Cats are my favorite subjects.”

Their attention shifted to a large portrait of you and Megumi from an event. He stood stiffly looking at you while you smiled at the camera, his parents in the background. Gojo scowled at Toji’s face.

The smell of caramelized sugar filled the air as you carried a tray of warm, syrup-soaked sweets to the table, and Gojo immediately forgot about Toji.

"Careful, it’s hot,” you warned, placing the tray on the coffee table. The men took a seat on the couch opposite you.

Gojo’s eyes sparkled as he picked one up, blowing on it before taking his first bite. A soft hum of delight escaped him. “This is heaven. Marry me!” He exclaimed in Japanese.

Still Nanami choked, shooting Gojo a glare. He took his time with his dessert, his expression softening with each bite. “You weren’t exaggerating. This is excellent; he likes it too.”

You leaned back with one for yourself, watching them with a small smile as you chewed your own. “Glad you like it.”

The three of you sat in companionable silence, the warmth of the room and the dessert lulling you into a state of drowsy contentment.

Without much thought, you curled up on the couch across from them, yawning and closing your eyes, unintentionally dozing off with two strangers in your house.

“She’s like a cat,” Gojo murmured in Japanese, his voice softer than usual.

Nanami studied you. “A very drunk cat.”

“But she can hold her liquor.”

“Except for turning into a frat bro dying to fight people.” Nanami deadpaned, making Gojo chuckle.

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the soft hum of the heater as you completely dozed off.

Gojo broke the silence first, still speaking softly in Japanese. “Hey, Nanamin. Think she likes us?”

Nanami glanced at him. “Us?”

Gojo shrugged, his grin a little softer. “You know. Like... us us.”

Nanami sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t plan for this.”

“Neither did I,” Gojo admitted. “But... I don’t hate it.”

Nanami glanced at Gojo, then back at you. “Neither do I.”

“Let’s see where this goes,” Gojo said softly.

Nanami nodded, his usual frown easing.

Just then, your phone rang loudly, startling you awake. You apologized to the men, "Sorry, I dozed off. It’s been a long day.” They smiled, still shoving sweets into their mouths occasionally—well, mostly Gojo.

You fished your phone from your pocket, accidentally cutting the call. Rubbing your eyes, you opened it to find:

Gumi: I thought I told you to stay away from those two?!

Gumi: Why did you invite them to your place?!

Gumi: I’m coming over, and if I find them there, I’ll kill them!

Gumi: Why the fuck are you cutting my calls?!

Gumi: I swear I’m beheading them.

You immediately stood up, startled. “You need to go!”

The men looked at you, confused.

“I can’t explain! Just please go right now!” Panic surged through you, serious enough to pull you out of your drunken sleepy haze. They put the sweets down and got up to leave, but you yelled again, “Not from the front door!”

Nanami groaned as you practically pushed him and Gojo through the back door and slammed the door into their faces.

Just then they realized something.

They still didn't really know anything about you except that you were observant, made them sweets and would fight to pay for others.

//

The silence that followed after you slammed the back door was short-lived. You took a deep breath, your heart pounding, as you tried to regain your composure. The faint sound of the heater humming did little to ease the tension building in the room.

A knock on the front door shattered the calm. It wasn’t a polite knock—it was authoritative, demanding.

You sighed, muttering under your breath, “God help me...”

You barely had time to brace yourself before the door swung open with a force that sent it rebounding slightly on its hinges.

Megumi stood in the doorway, his tailored suit pristine, but his face was anything but composed. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room like a predator assessing its territory, his jaw clenched so tightly you swore you heard his teeth grinding.

His gaze landed on you first, narrowing as he took in the faint flush on your cheeks and the slightly disheveled state of your hair. “You’ve been drinking,” he said flatly, the accusation sharp.

His gaze swept the room like a hawk, narrowing when he spotted the faint remnants of the sweets you’d shared with Gojo and Nanami.

You crossed your arms, meeting his glare with a raised eyebrow. “Good evening to you too, Megumi.”

“Don’t start,” he snapped, stepping into your living room. The air seemed to chill slightly as he moved closer, his presence both imposing and familiar.

The faint scent of alcohol clearly irritated him further. “You smell like a distillery. And there are cursed energy signatures everywhere. They were here, weren’t they?”

Your stomach twisted as his words hung in the air. He wasn’t asking; he was stating a fact.

“I drank earlier, but not with them. And yes, they were here,” you admitted, leaning casually against the back of the couch. “And they left.”

Megumi’s eyes darkened, his frame tense as he stalked further into the room. His presence felt heavier than usual, the weight of his restrained fury palpable. “I told you to stay away from them,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“You did,” you replied calmly, meeting his glare without flinching. “But I don’t recall signing a contract.”

His voice was quieter now but no less intense. “What were they doing here?”

“Eating sweets,” you replied simply as if his looming figure didn’t faze you.

Megumi’s jaw tightened. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all. They’re big fans of dessert,” you said with a faint smirk, your nonchalance clearly irritating him further.

“Do you have any idea who they are?” He demanded, his voice rising slightly.

“Two sorcerers who are surprisingly bad at hiding their curiosity,” you replied, your tone calm.

Megumi’s lips pressed into a thin line as his gaze swept the room. Without warning, he moved past you, scanning every corner with the precision of someone who missed nothing.

“Gumi,” you said, following him as he moved toward the kitchen. “They’re gone. I’m fine.”

He ignored you, his eyes scanning the area as if expecting to find Gojo or Nanami hiding behind the fridge.

When he turned back to you, his expression was a mix of frustration and something deeper—something protective. “You don’t understand what they’re capable of,” he said, his tone clipped. “You’re not a sorcerer. You can’t handle this.”

“I’m not helpless,” you countered, crossing your arms. “And I don’t need you babysitting me.”

His fists clenched at his sides, his shoulders taut with barely restrained anger. “You think this is about babysitting? You’re the only person I care about besides Mom,” he bit out, his voice cracking slightly. “Do you know how easy it would be for them to hurt you?”

“They’re not going to hurt me, Megumi,” you said, your voice softening.

He scoffed, his frustration spilling over. “You don’t know that. They’re sorcerers. They live in a world where people like you—people without cursed energy—are collateral damage.”

You stepped closer, your tone steady but firm. “And your father lived in a world where he killed innocent people, Megumi. Including that girl.”

The words hit like thunder, and for a moment, the room was silent. Megumi’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a mix of pain and anger.

“That doesn’t mean that white-haired freak gets a free pass,” he said finally, his voice low.

“No, it doesn’t,” you agreed, your gaze unwavering. “But it also doesn’t mean you get to project your anger onto me.”

“They’re dangerous,” he hissed, taking another step forward. “Especially him.”

You tilted your head, your gaze steady. “Gojo? He seems harmless enough when he’s not shoving sweets into his mouth.”

Megumi’s fists clenched at his sides. “Harmless? He killed my father.”

You flinched at the reminder, guilt creeping into your chest.

Megumi’s hands flexed at his sides; he calmed down his breathing immediately, eyes softening. “You don’t get it,” he said, his voice rough. “I can’t lose you too.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you said gently, placing a hand on his arm.

He stiffened at the contact, his gaze dropping to your hand before meeting your eyes. For a moment, his anger seemed to waver, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“I can’t protect you if you won’t listen to me,” he said, his tone quieter now but no less intense.

“You’ve always protected me, Gumi,” you said softly. “But I need you to trust me too.”

He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re overbearing,” you replied with a small smile.

After another tense moment, Megumi’s posture relaxed slightly. He looked around the room one last time, his eyes lingering on the remnants of the desserts you’d shared with Gojo and Nanami.

“They’re idiots,” he muttered.

You chuckled. “Agreed.”

“I’m increasing security around your building,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest. “Fine. But only if I still get to pet your shikigamis.”

His lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through his frustration. “Deal.”

“Next time, call me first.”

“Noted.”

"Come, mom asked you to stay over for the weekend; let’s go.” He said, extending his arm with a faint twitch of a smile on his lips.

“Oh great. I haven’t seen her in a few weeks.” You followed him.

Before closing the door, Megumi looked directly at a particular window in your penthouse.

//

As you both left, the tension in the room finally eased.

From the shadows outside, Gojo and Nanami peeked around the corner, their expressions a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

“He’s scary,” Gojo whispered in Japanese.

“He knew we were here; he could have fought.” Nanami thought out loud.

Gojo then added sagely. “But also... she’s kind of hot?”

Nanami sighed.

“Do you think she’s single?” Gojo mused as Nanami dragged him away.

---

Many Years Ago

It was a warm afternoon, the kind where the sunlight filtered through the trees and painted the grass in dappled patterns. You sat on a park bench, your knees pulled to your chest as you tried to block out the world. The faint sound of children laughing reached your ears, but it felt distant, like it belonged to another reality.

“Hey.”

The voice was small, hesitant. You looked up to see a little boy with dark, spiky hair and eyes that seemed far too knowing for someone his age.

“You’re sitting here alone,” he said matter-of-factly, his head tilting slightly. “Why?”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. “I just... like the quiet.”

The boy frowned, his brows knitting together. “You’re sad.”

Before you could deny it, another voice interrupted. “Megumi, don’t bother strangers.”

You looked up to see a tall man approaching, his broad shoulders and confident stride impossible to miss. His piercing eyes softened slightly when they landed on you.

“Sorry about him,” the man said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “He’s too nosy for his own good.”

“It’s okay,” you said quietly.

The man studied you for a moment, his gaze lingering on the bruises peeking out from beneath your sleeves. His expression darkened, but his tone remained calm. “Where are your parents?”

“They’re around,” you said quietly, looking away.

The boy—Megumi—plopped down on the bench beside you, completely unfazed. “You don’t like them, do you?”

“Megumi,” the man said warningly, but you shook your head.

“It’s fine,” you murmured. “He’s right. I don’t. They wanted a boy; I came out a girl.”

The man’s fists tightened hard enough that you heard a faint crack, then he crouched down, his gaze level with yours. “Listen, kid,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You don’t have to stay in places that hurt you. You know that, right?”

Your throat tightened, and you nodded, tears stinging your eyes.

From that day on, Toji Fushiguro became a constant in your life. He didn’t say much, but he showed up when it mattered—bringing food, letting you crash on his couch when things got too rough at home, and always making sure you knew you had someone in your corner.

Megumi tagged along wherever you went and was always watching out for you in his quiet, observant way. His sharp wit and occasional bursts of kindness became a source of unexpected comfort.

You felt a sense of belonging, a family forged through shared struggles and unspoken bonds. But when you learned of Toji’s death, the loss hit you hard. It was a wound that ran deep, leaving a lasting impact on Megumi, who never truly recovered from it.

And when you cut contact with your family after a particularly horrible night at eighteen, Megumi’s mom helped you get on your feet, offering support until you could stand on your own.

For a while, it felt like you’d found a family.

---

// Playlist

Before you left to get married

This was supposed to be a moment of excitement—a new chapter—but instead, it was tainted by the look in Megumi’s eyes.

The terminal was too bright, too sterile. Every sound—footsteps, muffled announcements, the scrape of luggage wheels—echoed like a dull ache in your head. You stood by the departure gate, clutching your boarding pass, trying to steady your breathing. You had said goodbye to Megumi’s mom, but Megumi had disappeared since the day you told him you’d accepted the proposal to get married to your husbands. He didn’t pick up calls, didn’t respond to texts, and wasn’t at his office or at home. You wanted to say goodbye before you left, make amends so that he visited you for both your and his life's major occasions, or without reasons. You didn’t go out of your way to hurt him, but you hated yourself for it. He was right to have expected something of you when all those years ago his father had been nothing but kind towards you.

Then the storm came.

“Leaving just like that?”

The voice froze you in place, laced with a hurt you hadn’t anticipated. Turning slowly, you met Megumi’s gaze. His 20-something frame was taller, broader like his father, than the boy you’d met all those years ago—a sharp-edged man you’d always known he’d become. He looked disheveled, as if he had been drinking; his coat and tie were absent, his sleeves rolled up, and a few top buttons of his shirt were undone. But his eyes... his eyes still held the same piercing clarity, now clouded with betrayal.

You swallowed hard. “Megumi—”

“Don’t.” His voice cut through the distance between you, and you flinched. “Don’t start with excuses.”

“I’m not making excuses,” you said softly. “I’m doing what I have to do.”

"What do you have to do?” He laughed bitterly, running a hand through his spiky hair. “You’re leaving everything—everyone—for them. You’re marrying the man who killed my father. And the other one, who just stood by and let it all happen.”

The words hit harder than you’d expected, slicing through the fragile composure you’d been clinging to. “That’s not fair,” you tried, your voice trembling. “You know it’s not that simple.” You stepped towards him.

“Then what is it like?” he snapped, stepping away. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve chosen them over everything else. Over me. I thought you were better than this. I thought you cared about me.”

“You’re my best friend, Megumi. You always will be,” you insisted, your throat tightening. “I do care about you.”

“Do you? You are moving to a whole other country for them! Do you even know the language properly?” His voice cracked, and for a moment, he looked like the boy you’d met in the park all those years ago.

Tears welled in your eyes. “I’m not leaving you, Megumi.”

“Yes, you are.” His tone was flat now, his expression hardening like a wall slamming shut. “You’ve already made your choice, and it’s not me.”

“I’m not doing this to hurt you,” you said, your voice barely audible.

He scoffed, the hurt radiating off him in waves. “Doesn’t feel like it.” He sighed, looking away from you, and continued, “You’ve made your choice, and it’s not me. So, go ahead. Leave. But don’t expect me to be waiting when you come back. The next time I see you, it’ll be at your funeral.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Tears pricked your eyes, but you forced yourself to stay composed. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” you said quietly. “But I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

He turned away sharply, his shoulders tense. “Don’t count on it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He strode away without a backward glance.

You stood there, the sounds of the terminal fading into a dull hum, your heart splintering under the weight of his parting words.

Nanami came to you and held you close while Gojo took care of the luggage.

---

Present day

The sea stretched endlessly before you, the waves lapping softly against the shore under the dim light of a waning moon. You sat on the edge of the wooden dock, legs dangling over the side, your hands resting limply in your lap. The salt in the air clung to your skin, but you barely noticed. Your eyes, glassy and unfocused, stared at the horizon, seeing nothing but the fractured pieces of a life that had slipped through your fingers.

The memory of Megumi’s words cut through the silence, a cruel echo of a bond you thought unbreakable.

"The next time I see you, it’ll be at your funeral."

You swallowed hard, the phantom weight of those words pressing against your chest. You’d believed so fiercely that he’d understand one day at the time and shared history would bridge the chasm your choices had created.

But you were wrong. He was right.

Your fingers tightened into fists as the guilt churned inside you. He had tried to warn you and begged you to stay away from the men who had dismantled your life piece by piece. And yet, you had brushed him off, convinced of your own strength and autonomy. You had taken his trust, his family’s kindness, and burned it in the fires of your hubris.

When your HQ in Japan was nearly razed and your life reduced to ashes, it wasn’t the men who betrayed you that haunted your thoughts—it was Megumi. You had been too ashamed to call him yourself, delegating the task to an employee with shaking hands. Yet, despite everything, he had come through.

His company’s security solutions had locked down your global offices in a matter of hours, protecting millions of lives. He didn’t ask for thanks, didn’t even reach out to you directly. It was as though he’d swept in like a ghost, solving the problem before vanishing back into the shadows of your shared past.

And still, you couldn’t bring yourself to reach out. What could you say? That he’d been right all along? That you missed him? That the absence of his sarcastic remarks and overprotective nature felt like a gaping hole in your already fractured soul?

You wondered if he thought about you at all. Did he have friends now? Or had he become like you—an isolated workaholic, buried under the weight of responsibility and regret?

Behind you, Sukuna sat silently on the dock, leaning back on his palms. He hadn’t said much since dragging you here, content to let the waves and the stars speak for themselves. He was steady, an immovable force in your crumbling world.

Sukuna sighed, his fingers drumming against the wood. “Still thinking about them?”

Them. Your twins. The children you’d lost.

“They are still yours,” he had told you, the words a faint echo now, lost in the cavern of your grief. They didn’t heal you, but they lingered, a reminder that some part of you had existed in them, however fleetingly.

The nightmares came every night. You didn’t tell Sukuna, but you didn’t need to. He was always there when you woke up drenched in sweat. His strong arms would pull you close, his voice steady and grounding.

“They’re gone,” he would say, the words harsh but real. “They’re not coming back. I’ll kill them if they do.”

You never asked who he meant. You didn’t care.

The therapy sessions were supposed to help. Sukuna drove you to every appointment, his presence looming in the background like a silent guardian. He never asked you how they went, never pressed for details. He just waited, scrolling through his phone or staring out the window until you returned.

But the numbness refused to leave. It clung to you like a second skin. You hadn’t spoken to Sukuna in months, not really. Your words had dwindled into hollow gestures—a nod, a faint smile, a muttered “thanks.”

He never complained. He just stayed.

Now, sitting on the dock with the sea stretching endlessly before you, Sukuna shifted closer. His knee brushed yours, a subtle reminder of his presence.

“You ever gonna talk again?” He asked, his tone light but probing.

Your lips parted, but no words came. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, to admit that you missed someone else’s presence just as much as his.

Megumi’s face flashed in your mind—his eyes, his cutting words, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did.

Sukuna’s gaze flicked to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Who’s on your mind?”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze for the first time in hours. “No one,” you lied, your voice hoarse from disuse.

He didn’t push, but the slight tightening of his jaw told you he didn’t believe you.

The stars above reflected faintly in the dark water, their light distant and cold. You wondered if Megumi ever looked at the stars and thought of you, or if you were as distant to him now as they were to the earth.

A/N: And that’s the emotional rollercoaster for today, folks! 🎢 How did you guys feel about Megumi and the airport scene. Drop your votes, share your feels, and get ready for the next chapter—it’s gonna be sending y'all to therapy.

Next Chapter 8 (alt ending 1.4) - Fractured Tides (Tumblr/Ao3)

All Works Masterlist

Tag-list = @lady-of-blossoms @stargirl-mayaa @dark-agate @tqd4455 @roscpctals99 @sxlfcxst @se-phi-roth @austisticfreak @helloxkittylo @itoshi-r @kodzukensworld @revolvinggeto @luringfantasy @xx-tazzdevil-xx

If I missed to tag anyone, please remind me.

[okayto]

Mini-Review: Jet Lag: The Game

An American travel competition series, each season features a contest that sends players to achieve a geographical objective in different parts of the world, some of which are inspired by board games. Whether it's teams traveling to to US states to claim a Connect Four-style row or column, circumnavigating the globe via air travel, playing tag across western Europe, or driving the vertical length of New Zealand, players will race against each other and the reliability of transit to get the win.

Imagine: you are an adult, collapsing into a hotel bed after a long day of getting lost on the public transit of your vacation city. You're about to stream something funny and not difficult to follow—maybe Nailed It!, maybe Taskmaster—when you companion interjects, says they've been watching this really fun travel race show, and starts a playlist where a quartet of people in predawn darkness run away six seconds into the video, and suddenly you're watching people race to circumnavigate the world?

That was my introduction to Jet Lag: The Game.

Each season is a self-contained game, and they mix it up: the first season (which, for some reason, is the second playlist on YouTube) is a game of "Connect Four" across America, where teams must "claim" four states in a horizontal or vertical row by traveling to each one and completing challenges, while the second game is a race to circumnavigate the globe, and the third season is a game of tag across western Europe, primarily using train systems.

Sidequest-like challenges are an integral part of these games. In most of them, players must unlock coins or money (as in a video game) to have the in-game balance to buy tickets, or unlock information about opponents, etc., so the series is never a straight race. The challenges vary by season and location, but include things like:

Logic or trivia challenges

Go to a museum for half an hour and tell the camera 5 fun facts you learned

Eat a menu item at McDonald's you can't get in the US

Get 1000 feet from any building

Get a hole in one in mini golf

Find [animal] at [local attraction famous for animal]

Make cheese

Cursed! Listen to Tom Lehrer's "Element Song" on repeat until you reach the next city [over an hour away]

Cursed! Only take trains that leave at odd-numbered times

Acquire any food produced in your current state and mail it to your family

Explain the birds and the bees to a bird or a bee

Ride a horse

Get goosebumps while at least one goose is in the camera frame

Because the challenges are random (usually drawn from a shuffled deck of cards), it adds tension to the games: the player or team needs money/coins/points in order to travel, or thwart their competitors, and there's a real risk that they'll fail because it's physically impossible or there's not enough time to complete.

If you, like me, are wary of YouTubers™, worry not. The focus here is the game, and the players do a decent job trying not to bother other people: most faces of passers-by are blurred, players try to set up in out-of-the-way corners when filming, and when they need to interact with people, like at a customer service desk, the camera is usually pointed at the player. There's also a lot of being very polite to customer service, drivers, and others they interact with. You can see them get strange looks sometimes, but overall they do a good job of trying not to be Social Media Personalities™ disruptively.

And the players themselves also seem to be nice people to watch; they'll send "curses" or other interruptions when the game allows for it, but there's no out-of-game interpersonal unpleasantness that makes it into the show. Also, one player, Ben, consistently wears the brightest, most funky clothes. He has no camouflage in a crowd, but who cares.

Final comments: Highly recommend. It's fun, safe for most ages—swears stronger than "damn" get bleeped—and you can tell that a lot of planning and thought has gone into game development to balance things. If you like the idea of race-type reality shows combined with good attitudes and sportsmanship, you'll probably enjoy this.

Subtitle availability: English closed captions are available and very well-done, sometimes including different font colors to indicate different people in conversations, and some excellent phonetic spellings of mispronunciations! However, for the first two seasons (Connect 4 and Circumnavigation), only auto-generated captions on YT are available.

Where to watch (USA, as of December 2024): YouTube (playlists link [X]) and Nebula (which was partially founded by the game's creator)—which also has recap/discussion podcasts, and series outtake video tarting with season 8, and the service gets new episodes a week early.

Start watching with: The friend who introduced me started me with the first playlist that shows up on YouTube, Circumnavigation, so I feel like if it worked on me, it'll work on others. But if that doesn't appeal to you, starting with either the next playlist—Connect Four Across America (which is actually the first season) or the third season, Tag Eur It, would be good. I started my parents on Tag Eur It, a game of tag across multiple European countries, because I think it's got one of the strongest hooks of any early series, explains the rules very quickly, and the immediate urgency (runner must run; chasers start to follow soon after) draws you in very quickly.

But really, starting anywhere will work. However, because the creators sometimes reference outcomes from earlier games, especially when they are playing near the location of previous games, I recommend watching any similar-geography games in order (Tag 1 before Tag 2 or Hide and Seek, and New Zealand [Race to the End of the World] before Australia).

Status/Frequency: There are currently 11 complete seasons on Youtube (12 on Nebula), and so far new seasons premier roughly 3-ish times a year, with most seasons lasting 5-6 episodes, and episodes tend to be 30-45 minutes each. As of this review, there is no indication that this is likely to change anytime soon, and the 12th season premiers this month.

Click my “reviews” tag below or search “mini review” on my blog to find more!

[crtastrophe]

Hi hello it seems I’ve caught a rare strain of art block that makes me unable to draw in anything other than Kid Pix Deluxe 4™, but I still need to buy groceries and stuff so!! I’m gonna try my hand at some experimental commissions.

If you have some kind of whimsical OC and you want me to let me loose on them, now’s your chance! Give me a character and I will cook up something cool — there's no pose/style/background tiers, though I will try to put an equal amount of effort into every drawing.

Payment in USD through PayPal invoice only.

More info under the cut!

Inquiries through Tumblr DM or via crtastrophe@gmail.com.

You can give me some brief prompting (e.g. “I’d like a drawing of my wizard OC casting some kind of spell”, “Can you work in some robot/tech motifs?” etc.) – or give me free rein, if you’d prefer.

I will need a minimum of one visual reference of the character’s design, but the more material I have to work from, the better! Tell me about their lore, what they’re like, their associated themes and motifs, all that jazz! Show me their aesthetic moodboards, the funnie tumblr textposts you associate with them, their playlist even.

As the nature of the program makes revisions difficult, I might turn down a request if I do not feel confident that I can compose a satisfactory piece from the provided material.

Once we’ve worked out all the details, I will send you a link to a PayPal invoice. I will not begin working on the piece until payment has been recieved.

Please note that I won't be providing WIPs! I can show you my initial sketch for the composition if you'd like, but after that the end result will be a suprise.

Once completed, I will send you a link to a drive containing the resized drawing in the form of a .png, as well as the original 665 x 477 bitmap.

Once payment has been received and I have begun working on the piece I cannot refund it. However, if I for any reason have to cancel the commission from my side I will refund it fully, regardless of level of completion.

Some limitations of the program (good to keep in mind!):

No layers

One (1) level of undo

Image size: The Kid Pix 4 drawing area is 665 x 477 pixels. I scale up the final image file x4 to make it more compatible with the modern internet, but the drawing itself will still be crunchy. That’s part of the charm! (I can also make the image dimensions 1:1, if requested.)

Colors: It is possible for me to create colors outside of the palette provided by the program, but replicating hues precisely can be tricky. Expect some stylization.

Okay, I think that’s everything! Thank you for reading this far, and feel free to contact me if you have any questions <3

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Intercity Relations (An Arcane one-shot)

Description: Spending years studying Interstate relations at Piltover's academy, you made both allies and rivals during your studies. Unlucky for you, Cassandra Kiramman hated your guts ever since you first met. The woman ensured you'd never see Ixtal or Shumira but rather serve as an intercity negotiator between Zaun and Piltover.

Pairing: Vander x afab!reader, NSFW, the reader being born and raised in Piltover™ (so expect some cultural differences, mostly Vander teasing the reader very lovingly). Warnings: I did my best to go over all the typos, but some certainly made it through. The entire 'plot' just for the sake of convenience, age difference (reader being around 25, Vander should be pushing 40 - the math doesn't add up, fuck it), should be set one year after Vander became a dad™, so we aren't in any rush, vile language, mentions of violence and substance abuse. Also, unprotected sex - don't be silly, wrap your willy! The smut is very gentle tho, very loving and fluffy. Jayce and Ezreal being supportive golden retriever besties™. Subtle Jayce and Viktor shenanigans (will miss if you squint your eyes). A/N: I wanted to write something for Vander for so so so long, but never got the inspiration. Three years after the release of Arcane, I finally made my long-lasting dream come true. It's also my first smut after a long time, so I hope you won't find it clunky and lame. Enjoy reading! Music inspo: Mainly by Seven (Jung Kook), Love Again (stolen from Ezreal's playlist, performed by Baekhyun), Moonlight by Kali Uchis & The Weekend by BIBI & 88rising. Word count: 21K (and I fucking ooop-) Music playlist: ezreal's bedroom bangers

The politics and schemes of Piltover's creme of society never ceased to surprise you. That position should've been yours. Heimerdinger more or less confirmed it a week ago - you should've been the negotiator between Shurima and Piltover regarding business and foreseeable Noxian invasion. The Yordle quite literally said you were the 'best suited' for such negotiations, that he'd realized it soon after you started your studies. From the get-go, it was supposed to be you who'd end up with this position. Truth be told, however, the council members despised you for all they got. You weren't some high-class Nancy who'd flatter them with expensive gifts and false compliments - but you were fucking good at negotiating. You were the best of your class. It wasn't Kacey who could barely tie her own shoelaces or God forbid Damien, who had trouble remembering even the most basic negotiation principles. It was you.

Studying at the Academy was an honor, you were aware of that. Your family poured everything into securing your spot there, which you were endlessly grateful for. The Academy gave you a better chance at life than you'd otherwise get. Being a middle-class Piltoverian wasn't as bad, per se, but it wasn't a win either. Anyone in your family knew what poverty or starvation was, had money for medicine and nice clothes, quality food, and your flat just outside downtown wasn't bad either, but you didn't plan on taking after your mother's hat shop. Making hats wasn't a bad hobby, both you and your brother enjoyed creating new designs and spending time with momma, but it didn't fulfill you.

It could be around your 10th birthday when you announced you'd like to be a diplomat one day. Your mom and older brother scoffed at it - no way a small child would aim to be a diplomat, right? Most kids wanted to be princesses or singers, they didn't want to deal with interstate relations. But... The phase never went away. It was clear as day that you weren't aiming for anything else as your fifteenth birthday rolled around - you kept up good grades, went to debate classes, and traveled to Holdrum and Kumangra to take part in various debate competitions; you didn't win all of them, but your arguments always left the jurors in awe. When you were leaving high school, it was recommended for you to apply for the Academy's scholarship.

At that moment your mom finally cracked and said 'Fine, let's give it a shot'. The tender was as enjoyable as could be, there were other excellent kids after your spot at the Academy, after all. It took numerous tryouts and evaluations - the Academy first accounted for your past academic achievements, then came assessment interviews, then various intelligence tests, ending it all with a few rounds of debates. Some of those were nearly nerve-crushing. When you were informed of getting the scholarship, you were also informed about all the strict rules you'd have to obey - starting with a strict dress code, frequent one-on-one evaluations with the dean of your faculty, and ending with oddly specific dorm and library rules.

During the matriculation, you'd meet your best friend for the few following years - he came fashionably late (presumably sleeping in), barging into the dead-silent hall with his clothes hastily put on, his hair a fucking mess. As the boy stood on the stairway (looking like a deer in the headlights), the rector stuttered, watching the latecomer with matching intensity. Leaning over to the boy, you'd grab his sleeve and force him to sit next to you. Honestly, you liked Jayce ever since you first laid your eyes on him. If there was a definition of conventionally attractive, Jayce was it - hazel colored eyes, a bright smile full of straight teeth, clean-shaven face, a perfect haircut that was taken care of (gell and everything), and built like a fucking mountain with his 6'7 in height, as you'd learn later. His facial features were very pleasurable to look at. As you said - Jayce was the 'it'.

"I really thought this ceremony starts at 10 a.m... Two weeks from now." - The man mumbled to you, putting his bag down next to his seat. As he leaned closer to you over, the smell of some nice and surely very expensive cologne tingled in your nose. "They changed it last week on a whim, probably to avoid the matriculation overlapping with Progress Day. Wouldn't know about it if I wasn't moved into dorm already." "Makes enough sense. Did I miss something important?" "Something something, the great future, Piltover, something something, you are our new hope. Something along these lines." - You repeated, chuckling at yourself. Your brother always told you you were fucking horrendous at making friends, but the latecomer seemed to appreciate your sense of humor. Smirking at you, he licked his lips and offered you his palm under the table.

"Name's Jayce Talis." - The guy whispered, feeling as your palm slipped into his. His skin was nicely warm and so soft. A rich Piltie, you assumed. - "What's yours?" "Y/N Y/L/N." - Whispering back, you shook hands, still grinning at one another. - "Hi." "Oh, doesn't your family run a hat shop or something? Mrs. Kiramman loves that place to death, had to endure a fashion show of her and her daughter's hats tailored according to the latest fashion trends in Ixtal." - Jayce wondered, clearly memorizing the lane by heart.

"Yeah, I helped make these. My mom runs it. I was supposed to take over the shop when she'd feel like she couldn't do it anymore." - You explained swiftly, completely forgetting why you two were sitting in the hall. - "You know councilor Kiramman? The Cassandra Kiramman?" "Mhm." - The Jayce guy nodded, showing you dimples in his cheeks. He was getting hotter by the second. - "Also know the dean." "The dean?" - You squirmed, shooting him an amazed look. - "Are you like a child of some super-important politician?" "No. I just know how to make good childhood friends." "Geez. I had to fight for a way in." "My mom had been dead set on my future since day one. Surely, if Cait was a few years older, they'd even arrange our marriage." - Jayce scoffed, turning his eyes to the dean, a Yordle named Heimerdinger. - "How did you fight your way in? Gladiator style, cage match, blood, sand, and everything?" - He muttered, making you snicker as you pretended to listen to the speech. The matriculation had almost two hours of runtime, so you still had an hour and a half ahead of you.

"More of a streetfight style - who'd beat up the most kids to pulp won the scholarship." "Sounds way more exciting than just getting in because you have a rich friend." "I don't think that's the case." - With a smile, you bumped his rib with your elbow. - "Councilor Heimerdinger doesn't seem to be the type to just let anyone study here. We're Piltover's future, aren't you listening to his words? There's gotta something in that noggin' of yours." "I don't think you'd be the type to beat kids into pulps either. Actually, you look like someone I'd love to be friends with. Truthfully, I don't know anyone else inside the Academy, which terrifies me. I'm not a rich kid and I'm not good at talking to these rich assholes." "Didn't you say you're tight with the Kirammans?" "Caitlyn is anything but a rich asshole. She runs her mouth faster than her brain, bless her soul. Sometimes, she blows Mrs. Kiramman out of the water, leaving me speechless. If I were to talk to her mother like this, my mom would lock me up in a cellar until I'd apologize." "Your mom isn't like..." "No." - Jayce ended the discussion categorically. Since he didn't seem to like the topic, you hummed and nodded. "For your information, I think I'd be able to beat up that kid." - Pointing at a veiny, super-skinny ginger with glasses sitting two rows in front of you. - "... But I'm keener on logic and words, you got me there. Nonetheless, I'll take your words as a compliment, Talis. I'd like to... Be friends, I mean." "Lunch after?" - Jayce asked simply, pulling out a paper and a pen on his desk. First, you were concerned; was he about to take notes? Surely not, right? Then, he looked over at you with one of the most devilish grins you'd seen until that day. - "And tick-tack-toe now?" "God, you're already my best friend, Talis." - Without hesitation, you started to draw the playing board, sticking your tongue out of your mouth due to sheer concentration.

As promised, the two of you would set out to have lunch after the assembly, talking about everything and nothing. Talis was a great company - charming, funny, witty, and handsome. What he saw in you? No idea, but the two of you clicked right away. Even after years, you couldn't decipher what Jayce saw in you. The field of your research and studies were as different as could be, so you usually didn't dwell too much on such topics. Of course, you asked 'How are the studies going?' but it was never the centerpiece of your conversation. While you dealt with human relations, Jayce was a scientist, working with some miraculous blue stone (no idea what that was about). It only took a week to realize you'd found the best friend for the few following years. On the very second day, Talis showed you around his workshop, designating it as your hangout spot outside the faculty - it was a small maisonette with an enormous balcony and a very tiny bathroom. The upper floor was holding a bed and a couch. Since it also had a small fridge, you could just buy some beers and snacks for late-night study sessions and screw the dorm.

This friendship seemed fishy. People like Jayce Talis (attractive, genius, and charming) usually didn't seek company with the likes of you. Piltover was just a rat race, people climbing on the social ladders, striving for a better life. Jayce, on the other hand, didn't seem to be that guy. It seemed like he genuinely doesn't give a fuck. Also, Caitlyn Kiramman liked you, ensuring she'd like you even if you'd crawl out of the deepest part of the Undercity. Just as Jayce informed you, Cait's mouth ran much faster than her brain. You found this part of Kiramman endearing. Even though Talis sent you nothing but good vibes to you, it was hard to just accept this pure form of friendship. It took him around a week and a half to truly convince you he isn't hanging out with you for some insane, out-of-this-world reason. The guy simply liked being around you. That was also the first time Jayce sang and danced around you while studying in his condo - he was an awful singer.

Keeping the promise, you'd gather early the following Monday, ready to celebrate Progress Day. The festival was kicked off with yet another of Heimer's speeches (of which you and Talis appropriately made fun; nothing mean, just stupid jokes here and there). The rest of the day was in your hands - and dear God, you had a lot to wander through. Various attractions from all around the world, newest inventions, doubtful souvenirs, and snack stands... You simply loved the Progress Day. As you absentmindedly licked on your ice-creams, a boy stopped you. Neither of you could know that this particular man will soon be the last member of your party.

While also being very good-looking, the boy couldn't be more different from Jayce. He was around your age and based on his uniform, he was too a student at the Academy. His blonde hair was stylized perfectly, his blue eyes were piercing, you'd swear you hadn't seen clearer skin before and his facial features resembled those of a sculpture or a painting. He'd been considerably shorter than Jayce, but equally as handsome... Also, he was visibly distressed.

"Uh, hi you two. Hi. How you doin'?." - The boy greeted you, shaking your hand loosely as he fidgeted around, looking over his shoulders. You were pretty positive the stranger didn't even look you in the face before gripping your hand. "Hi?" - You asked, furrowing at him. He'd been shaking your hand for over a minute, still searching for something in the crowd... Or someone. - "Do you need something?" "I'm in a bit of trouble. Hi." - The boy jumped over to shake Jayce's hand frantically. - "Could you help me? It won't take long." "What can we do for you?" - Jayce asked. You've been both grinning by that point. The boy's behavior was funny. "I'm trying to run away from my blind date. She's been going on a tangent about how we 'belong together even in the heavens' and that I must be the guy her 'oracle saw in the tarot cards'."

"That sounds scary." - Jayce admitted, carefully twisting his palm from the stranger's grasp. The blonde boy, however, didn't seem to notice as he still looked around for his blind date. - "What do you say, Y/N? I'd be pretty scared if you pulled out a stunt like that." "I was just about to get to what my oracle said about you, Talis, but I mean... It sounds like the start of a horror story. I'm down to whatever." "Geez, you guys are the best and I mean that. My name's Ezreal, by the way."

When Ez piped down a bit and wasn't searching for the mysterious oracle girl, he was good company. As you walked through the main square and adjacent streets, he explained that he was studying history at the Academy and that you were in the same year. His parents were archeologists who traveled all over Runeterra so he was often left in Piltover under the care of his uncle, famous professor Lymere. That's how Ezreal got into the Academy anyway - quoting Ezreal, 'it definitely wasn't his intellectual prowess'. The guy was in awe when Jayce also invited Ezreal to his convo to share some beers while waiting for the fireworks to go off. Even though he seemed to be a social butterfly, Ezreal admitted people didn't stick around for long, often calling him 'annoying' or 'difficult to be around'; Jayce's invitation genuinely moved him. That's how you met your two best friends in the whole wide world.

The three of you were so different that you completed each other. You've been the most grounded in reality - studying political situations and people gave you a good insight into the world around you. If the two boys felt like arguing with someone, you were their person - you could go on for hours, debating like your life depended on it, beating them with facts grounded in reality.

Ezreal, on the other hand, was the dreamer and romantic. Boy, oh boy, his romantic endeavors were something - each week, you'd have to commiserate and listen to him obsessing over a different girl. You and Jayce would be the first to know all the details about his latest miserable breakup and future plans. He'd been prone to dramatize and exaggerate. Also, while being street-smart and intelligent (to a degree), Ezreal could come across as very naive and innocent. It was fun watching him not having a clue about his romantic interest's innuendos or hints, ignoring it all like the sweet summer child he was. You'd seen a lot of his romantic failures, if you had to be honest - the boy often invited you and Jayce for hangouts with his newest discovery (secretly hoping to set you up), and at times, you had to do your best not to start hysterically laughing right into his face. You loved Ezreal.

Jayce was the scientist of your group - he'd constantly lived in the world of wonder, progress, and inventions, constantly building towards a better future. His grind never stopped for anything. You and Ezreal would listen to his drunken rambles about how he'll change the world one day - you liked to believe Jayce. His dreams sounded nice. Despite Ezreal's best hopes, the two of you never hit it off - there was never a spark of romantic interest between you. Jayce often joked he didn't have time for romance, but if he would, he'd definitely ask you out - at that, you'd laugh and say 'Stop keeping your damn hopes up, this ain't happening, Talis'. Anytime you'd bump into something you didn't understand or felt emotionally vulnerable and wanted to share with someone, Jayce became your go-to person. His condo became the party's designed hangout spot, so you'd spend most of your Academy days there, watching over Piltover with dumb smiles.

All and all, you couldn't ask for better friends.

It was also this duo that expected your acceptance letter with batted breath alongside you. As usual, you'd barge into his condo. The two were talking before Ezreal raised his eyes to you frantically waving the letter around. Before you barged in, Ezreal was leaning over Jayce's shoulder (talking about Rachel... Again) and watched as the scientist connected wires in his latest contraption.

You and Jayce graduated earlier this summer, actually. Jayce, as you expected, finished his studies with a red diploma. You'd expect him to move out of Piltover, and work on his tech in collaboration with scientists from the other states - to your surprise, the man chose to work under the science faculty of the Academy. Ezreal, on the other hand, had to retake two classes - maths and geography of Runeterra... Despite all odds, this was a major success in your books. He'd been expecting to retake at least four. "It's here, bozos." - You announced, demanding their full attention. Ezreal straightened up, walking closer to you - Jayce just turned around in his chair and waited for you to start reading. "I'm sure it's Shurima. Like, 100% positive. Heimer talked about you enthusiastically last week, Y/N. I've heard it all." - Coach Ezreal mumbled supportively while walking behind you to massage your shoulders. As he patted your shoulder, you nodded at his words and let out a huge sigh before tearing the envelope outside. You had to be the next Piltoverian diplomat. It had to be you. It was always supposed to be you.

"Dear Ms. Y/N Y/L/N." - The letter started. - "It is a pleasure to welcome you on board our organization as the newest foreign service specialist. That's a good sign, no?" - You took a breath in, looking at both the boys; your fingers were trembling, breath shallow. "Jesus, don't stop in the middle of the letter!" - Ez exclaimed with a furrow. "Just go on." - Jayce mumbled, hanging on your lips. "Due to exceeding the number of current foreign specialists in the field, we are pleased to announce your new position as the official negotiator between the two states of Piltover and Zaun... Your accommodation in the state of Zaun will be... In case of unclarities, please contact..." - The blood in your veins froze as you read more and more. - "... Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Oh no..." - Ezreal sighed softly, his expression sagging as he watched tears forming in your eyes. You could barely breathe, your fingers shaking, your heart beating rapidly. You've never felt more betrayed in your life - this should've been your fucking moment to spread your wings and leave Piltover. You were supposed to explore the world just like you and Ezreal dreamed. You've been supposed to take part in negotiations between nations and... - "It's okay." "It's not okay!" - Both the boys' hearts broke upon seeing you break down, squealing at the top of your lungs. - "I've worked so fucking hard and everything..." - Jayce offered you an empty bottle so you could break it by throwing it on the ground, letting the anger out. It was better to clean up some mess than see you in ruins. - "... And that bitch, that old foul hag, that fucking snake!" - (Another bottle) - "I've always known she wouldn't fucking let me go. The moment I met her during my evaluations, I knew she hated me." - (Another bottle) - "To her bad fucking luck, Heimerdinger liked me, so she couldn't just get rid of me." - Your hand stretched out for another bottle, but Jayce stopped you. "I don't think she dislikes you..." - Talis approached you from behind, carefully massaging your shoulder. - "I just think something's going on in Zaun. The council would have someone who lived here their whole life and can trust as their diplomat, rather than someone who's not oriented in the problems and dynamics."

"Hey, I gotta repeat that geography class just because I looked at the professor funny. No one even wants to employ me." - Ezreal spoke slowly and softly, smiling at you. Grinning at his statement, you started to dry out your tears. "You gotta repeat it because the professor found out you're fooling around with his daughter." "Ehh... Maybe, but that's not the point." - Ezreal giggled, smoothing your shoulder. - "Listen, Y/N, you're the smartest and prettiest girl I know. You're able to inspire people, talk them through everything, and argue for hours when it comes down to it. And... The Undercity's not that bad, really. I know a few dudes selling fun stuff. I can introduce you to some of them to get you started?" "Ezreal..." - It was a high-pitched whine as you hugged him, letting out a long breath. His words made you emotional, moving you until you felt a fuzzy warmth spreading inside your chest.

"But... If I'm the prettiest girl you know, why didn't you ask me out yet?" - You joked, giggling. Being transferred to the Undercity wasn't all bad. It had its advantages - you'd stay close to your family and best friends. You didn't have to hope you'd bump into each other once a year, you could see them anytime you wanted. You'd be on hand in case your ma or bro needed help with the hat shop. You didn't have to leave your old life behind. "Because I respect you too much to let you fool around with someone like me." - The blonde sighed, hugging you back. Jayce was already on cleaning duty, brewing you all a cup of hot cocoa. It was exactly what you needed, in his expert opinion. As usual, Jayce was right. "... It's because you know I'd see right through your bullshit, right?" "... Yeah, you got me there, girl."

Two weeks later:

The Undercity was definitely not what you'd expect. First things first, it smelled horrible - when you talked to the lady who was introducing you to the issues at hand, she warned you about the possibility of wearing a mask. The Grey (fumes from factories located in the Underbelly) was making the air heavy. So far, so good; while the place reeked, it never got too bad. Secondly, the people didn't cut your head off when meeting you. The Trenchers were indifferent when it came to you; it was clear as day you weren't native to Zaun, but they didn't care much. The number of Enforcers traveling to Zaun was actually quite impressive. You've been worried you'd have to fight for your life, but just like Ezreal promised, Zaun wasn't that bad. Thirdly, your newly assigned condo and monthly payment were good. It gave you enough financial freedom to be fully self-sufficient, which felt simply wonderful. People from the agency acted respectfully towards you, putting weight on Jayce's words; maybe it was a last-minute decision to assign you to Zaun. Maybe, something was brewing on the horizon.

Your assigned informant from the agency told you to ask for Sheriff Grayson of the Piltover's Enforcers. If she knows who's the authority in Lanes, she could introduce you to them and get you accustomed. The problem with Zaun was simple - the city wanted independence from Piltover. If you wanted proof, all you had to do was to take the last riot into account. Your job was to secure a fool-proof plan that would benefit both parties while not degrading either. Well, with Piltover's attitude towards Zaun, that ask turned into a whole another pain in the ass, you realized fairly soon-ish.

Sheriff Grayson turned out to be a reasonable, charming woman with a lot of wisdom regarding both sides of the conflict; she referred to someone named 'Vander', the man who had a reputation and respect among the Zaunites. Ezreal wasn't aware of anyone named Vander, but he knew a black-market trader named Benzo. The blonde swore that if anyone knew Vander, it would be his dealer. "You look like you're acclimatizing fairly well." - The boy brought up as you locked the door to your condo, leaving to see Benzo. - "How is Zaun treating you?" "Hm... It's not as bad as I'd assume, no one tried stabbing me so far." - It was a bad joke, but Ez chuckled nonetheless. Walking down the stairs, your elbow mindlessly entwined with his as usual. You were happy Ezreal came to visit you in the Lanes. Throughout the last week, you've only talked to Sheriff Grayson and your sweet land lady who also had dementia.- "I'm just... Lonely. The two of you are living on the other side of Sun Canal. Getting over that damn bridge is hard, even for a diplomat. That said, the folk are more or less nice around here. They don't welcome me with arms wide open, but they're polite so far."

"Sounds like you'll get used to living here before you know it. You'd get along even with someone as demonic as old prof Lymere, on my honor." "Your uncle sounds like a tough nut. I appreciate the trust, though, young Mr. Lymere. Big preach." "After you, m'lady Y/L/N." - Ezreal exclaimed dramatically, holding the front door open for you; he even bowed, having you giggle under your breath.

Seeing Zaun through Ezreal's eyes was fascinating. The blonde definitely spent a lot of time here, knowing most of the small shops and dark alleys you wouldn't dare to go to alone. As you walked through the Lanes, he told you the history of it all; how Zaun came to be, what were its most historically significant locations, and a bit about their culture (Ezreal described it as 'pretty grim' and moved on). Benzo's pawn shop was located just off the main street - it wasn't in any grim alley where you wouldn't go in a million years or anything like that - it was a pretty nice place if you'd have to be honest. Sure, most of the goods were giving 'not acquired legally' vibes, but that wasn't your jurisdiction, so you didn't bother commenting on it. Benzo himself wasn't a bad person either, you liked him. After Ezreal introduced you, the atmosphere even shifted to a lighthearted meeting of two acquaintances. A small boy was slacking around the pawn shop, goggling his enormous brown eyes at you, but Benzo soon sent him away.

"At least, he'll have something to tell the other nuisances about." - Benzo sighed, clearly referring to other children growing up in the Lanes. - "Young Mr. Lymere. What do I owe the pleasure?" "I'm not here for business today, Benzo. My friend needs a bit of help." "Ah, really? And what can I do for the young lady? Anything particular she's looking for?" "Not something, but someone. She's not... Interested in buying, if you will." - Ezreal explained as he played with various trinkets lying around the shop. You didn't want to talk until you'd be introduced, so you simply stood around and watched the exchange. - "Y/N was sent here by the council." - In that instant, Benzo's demeanor switched to hostile for a bit. "Ah, wonderful." - The man gritted with a forced smile. - "What do these jerks need?" "I'm here to handle diplomatic communications between Piltover and Zaun. Seems like the council finally considered Zaun's declaration of independence, the one that happened a year ago. I'm here to ensure things go as smoothly as they can. I mean no harm."

Benzo watched you with a furrow, thinking about his answer. Ezreal leaned into the counter with a mischievous smile on his lips. - "Y/N is one of the best people I've met, Benzo, I can vouch for her if my word means anything to you." "Sorry if I came across as an old bastard, the folk often call me one." - The pawnshop laughed, offering you his palm. - "Name's Benzo, young lady. I'm the owner of this pawnshop, as Mr. Lymere surely informed you. Nice to know someone cares."

Yeah, only if you cared voluntarily, huh? You accepted the handshake nonetheless, offering him the sweetest smile you mustered. - "Y/N Y/L/N, call me Y/N. Nice to meet you, Benzo." "See, I told you, you'll be fine anywhere." - Ezreal smiled, nudging your side. "Who's the poor soul you're looking for?" "Sheriff Grayson referred me to someone going by 'Vander'. Said he's a geezer with one hell of a reputation around here. If there would be anyone these folk listen to, she said, it's Vander. Ever heard of him? I'd like to go over what the people could want so I could relay it to the council and start with the negotiations."

"If I know that old rascal? Ha!" - Benzo started laughing again. You liked him more and more by the minute. - "Everyone around here does. He runs a pub, you had to cross it on your way here. The Last Drop, does that ring any bells?" "Oh, yeah!" - Both you and Ezreal nodded in unison. The main pub in the largest square of the Lanes, a local district filled to the brim with former black market operations as Ezreal informed you just half an hour prior. - "Looked welcoming." "You bet, two lovebirds like you won't find a better place to make out anywhere around here." "Oh! That's not... You got it wrong!" - You exclaimed, falling into a fit of wholehearted laughter. This was the first time you laughed during your stay in Zaun - you laughed so hard your belly hurt, tears streaming down your face. "I know we've been over this, but this genuinely hurts my feelings, Y/N." - Ezreal muttered, fighting laughter himself. - "Anyway, thanks for the help, Benzo."

"You ever go there to have a cold one by any chance?" - You wondered, wiping the tears, calming down. Each time people assumed you and Ezreal were a thing, this was your reaction - breaking down, laughing so hard you cried. - "I've got the feeling I'll be spending a lot of time there." "I'll see you around, Y/N." "Can't wait!" - As the door closed behind you, Ezreal nudged your side again before letting you entwine your elbow with his. It helped you feel safe, especially in places such as this.

The Last Drop. Entering the pub, you got a feeling this is precisely the place where everything goes down. This was your first time being in a place such as this, so you looked around with batted breath while Ezreal led you to a table, nodding at a few people here and there. It genuinely felt like the lair of all the sin and alcohol. People played pool, some sulked around drinking, dancing in front of a small jukebox, playing cards or arm wrestling, laughing, and joking around. Each game was played for a bid, this pub was gamble-core galore. While you never even tried playing poker for money, Ezreal genuinely seemed to be acquainted with some of the Last Drop's patrons, nodding their way. These people felt different than those who you met until that moment... More alive, more fun, nicer. Well, until a skirmish broke out in front of the bar; a 6'8 man with chemtech augmentations punched another dude square in the face, resulting in both of them being dragged out by other patrons.

And that was when you first saw him.

He'd been talking with a woman sitting at the bar, snickering at her remark while absentmindedly polishing pints. The man, whoever he fucking was, looked like a sculpture. First, there was the smile - the mischievous spark in it, something vaguely boyish in his eyes as he looked at the woman, his watery-colored eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Secondly, you admired his facial structure. There was something so... Good-looking about his jaw and small, nicely shaped lips. You liked it when he smiled and immediately started imagining if you could make him laugh. Your heart skipped a beat upon that imagination. Thirdly, his hair and beard were visibly kept in good shape, but overgrown; it looked good on him, though, which was a look not a lot of men could pull off. And fucking lord, he was so well built. Broad shoulders, strong forearms, nicely shaped waist that begged to be hugged by your arms. Piltover didn't have men like similar to this kind, you were sure of that - he appeared to be gruff, but the mischievous smile told you otherwise. His posture and body screamed dominance, but his eyes whispered safety.

There was no doubt in your mind that the mysterious bartender was probably twice your age and that you definitely shouldn't be thirsting over him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't look away from him - the longer you watched him, the more deranged scenarios devoured your mind. Witch each piece of clothing disappearing, your mouth felt drier, the boiling hot blood traveling right between your thighs. It was impossible to look away from him. His presence ensured you wouldn't pay attention to anything else as you sat there, gravitating towards him like a moth to a lamp.

Each move he made was like cinema to you and each time his lips moved as he talked to the lady, butterflies started tingling in your belly. You wanted him to talk to you this way, was it a far cry to imagine you'd catch his attention? What were you thinking? He was a Trencher, you were a Piltie; two utterly different worlds. This guy probably wouldn't be interested in you, would he? Well, a girl can dream...

"Ezreal to Y/N. Are you okay?" - Ezreal bumped into your shoulder, making you finally look away from the bartender. Clearing your throat, trying not to appear as a flustered deer in the headlights, you looked at the spunky kid standing next to your table, seemingly getting your order. Her expression was unreadable and judging by her age and the bruise under her eye, she wasn't working here voluntarily. Who was she? "Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts. What's the best drink you have?" - You tried sounding at least a bit excited, but the kid just pointed to the menu and walked away. - "She seems friendly." "Probably got herself into some sort of trouble and got punished by helping that Vander guy, don't take it too personally." - Ezreal muttered, watching as you got up. - "Where are you going?" "I'll the bartender about the best drink… And about Vander." "And will you at least get a beer for me?" - Ez cried out as you disappeared into the crowd showing him thumbs, too busy staring at the mysterious man to look back at Ez.

If you weren’t mesmerized by the bartender, your shoulder wouldn’t bump into a very imposing woman who, at the time, played pool with her buddies. If you hadn’t bumped into her, she wouldn’t spill and break her pint on the ground. If her beer hadn’t been spilled, she wouldn’t turn around to take a good look at you. Upon the sound of shattering glass, the pub fell silent for a second, everyone turning their attention to the two of you. Before Ezreal got the time to get off his ass to get you outta there, the woman shoved you to the ground; so harshly that your head hit the wooden flooring. The bartender was forgotten as you grunted in pain, picking yourself off the ground; you didn’t have to bother, though. The woman gripped the hem of your jacket, making you tiptoe as she forcibly invaded your space - even though you didn’t consider yourself to be the smallest bean in the room, her physical build definitely overshone yours. She watched you like fucking prey, ready to kick or punch your teeth in.

“The fuck do you think you doin’, huh?” - The woman gritted through her teeth, biting down on a toothpick. - “You're not local, are you? Fucking Pilties, thinking you own everything 'round here, actin' like nothin' can happen to you. Guess what, princess.” “It was an accident. Put her down so we can talk this through. Sevika, c'mon.” - The friend she played against was trying to get you outta there. Even though it was a nice sentiment from the stranger, Sevika scoffed as her palms pulled you even closer.

Holy shit. Were you about to get your soul kicked out of you just two weeks after moving into Zaun? Had to be some sort of speed run record, you were positive.

“As if. Pilties gotta learn their lesson, just like we learned ours back on the bridge. Better if this pretty little thing learns it soon on.” “I’ll buy you another round, how 'bout that?” - You choked out with trouble, catching her palms in yours as you did your best to defuse the situation. Ezreal was standing just next to you now, ready to get into a fight if it would get to it. The boy, bless him, being a sweet summer child was still willing to fight for your dignity and honor. - “I’m sure we can talk about it.” “That’s all you, fucking Pilties - all talk and no walk. Zaun isn’t for people like you. You don’t belong here, sweetcheeks, you ruined our lives and now,…” - With each word, Sevika brought you closer, tightening the grip on your t-shirt. Just as you started to feel her breath on your cheeks, someone else stepped into the spectacle - someone's palm circled around her forearm, forcing her to put you back down.

It was him, the man you were mesmerized with. The bartender. The tender expression and feelings in his eyes were replaced with an unpleasant furrow directed towards Sevika. Now that he was closer, you realized he was even more handsome than you assumed. His head was cocked towards his shoulder, his brows knitted together, veins on his palm and forearm prominent due to the force he applied on Sevika's grip.

“'t’s enough.” - The man said quietly and slowly, the tension immediately defusing into thin air as your feet touched the ground. - “‘t was an accident, nothin’ more. Lass said she’ll buy you a new round, so I don’t see any problem 'ere. This is not how we welcome people 'round here.” "Old man, did you already forget..." - Sevika gasped for air, the muscles on her arm tensing as she got ready to pack a hefty punch to the man. The bartender, however, remained cool as a cucumber - simply stared at her, not flinching out of the way. "Of all the folk 'round, I'm the one who remembers everythin'. Also, you should remember it's unwise to threaten the guy who pours the drinks 'round here." "Let's get you some air, you." - Sevika's companion mutters, tugging her towards the door. - "Let's go for a walk, c'mon."

"Hey." - When Sevika was out of the door, the life in the pub started moving again - people got back to their gambling, arm wrestling, and talking, seemingly forgetting about anything even happening. The bartender was now turned to you, patting your shoulder gently while leading you towards the bar. - "You alrite?" "I'm whole, which is better than I anticipated. Sorry for causing trouble during your shift, though. Must be a lot as it is." "Huh?" - That smirk... His damned smirk made you forget about who you've been and what you were supposed to be doing in the Last Drop. - "Trouble? Sevika? Don't take it personally. I know that can be hard to do, but still. Local folk are usually much nicer."

"I've noticed." - You nodded, flushing simply because he was talking to you. Christ, you were down bad, almost starting to feel like Ezreal. - "Been living here for the past two weeks. You people are... Indifferent. But better than you being hostile." "Indifferent?" - The guy repeated after you, sending you a small, warm smile. - "That's a first. Never been called indifferent before. That a compliment?" "Depends on if you'd like to take it as such, I suppose." - His expression made you smile back at him, heart pounding in your chest. "Y'know what? I'll take it as one." - His chuckle almost sent you spiraling, making you smile at him dumbfoundedly. - "So, what can I do you for?"

"I would want a beer for that gentleman over there." - Pointing over at Ezreal, the boy just waved in your direction. - "And a drink for me." "Ordering 'a drink' doesn't narrow it enough I'm afraid, sweetheart." "What's your best drink, then?" - You wondered, enjoying the atmosphere and banter you had going on. "Do you like surprises?" "I can do without them." - You sighed in defeat. - "I can make an exception, though. One-time ocassoon, tho, don't take your chances." "Wouldn't dream of it."

While he mixed the drinks, you were keeping him company. Letting the banter flow, he started asking you why you moved to Zaun, whether you're suffering or enjoying yourself, and how you like the pub... Small talk every bartender makes to appease their customers, more or less. Even though it was this basic, you couldn't look away from him - where he moved, your eyes followed. When he smiled, you mimicked. Whenever he was closer than a foot, your heart skipped a beat. He smelled so nice, so earthy, like wood, jasmine and oranges.

"Oh, by the way." - You reminded yourself as he finished the drink, facing away from you to keep it as 'a surprise'. Uh-hm was all you got in response. - "I'm here to meet someone named Vander? Rings a bell?" "I'd assume so. What do ya need of that old bastard, sweetheart?" "I'm here to talk about possible future negotiations between Piltover and Zaun. The council wants to grant this region greater rights in exchange for peace." "You're a diplomat?" - The man stopped, bright pink cocktail umbrella hanging between his fingers. The atmosphere seemed to fade away while he processed the information, his smile disappearing.

"Listen, you have nothing to worry about. I'm here to make sure everything goes smoothly and help as much as I can. Vander isn't in any sort of danger. Sheriff Grayson referred to him as someone who'd be in a position to make demands for the Zaunites." "You're pretty young for a diplomat's what I meant to say, sweetheart. Don't take it the wrong way. One'd assume such a young thing would have other things on her mind." "You know him or not?" - You asked, amused by his explanation. "'s me. Vander, pleasure's on my side."

Oh shit. Oh fuck. So this was Vander. The former 'Hound of the Underground', as Grayson informed you. This beautiful man, this absolute spectacle... Was the guy you'd spend hours and hours with talking about political nonsense? This both excited and worried you. It was a curse in disguise. How were you supposed to even start talking to him? The moment you'd be alone, your mind would fill with very inappropriate fucking thoughts. "Oh, snap." "Haven't heard anything more Piltoverian in a long time. Well... How 'bout you?" "What about me?" "What's your name, sweetheart? Wouldn't mind calling you names, but when we get to business, I wouldn't wanna come across as immature... God forbid rude." - The way his tongue deliberately stretched 'business' between his lips made you swoon, gasping for air in hopes Vander wouldn't notice (he definitely noticed).

"Y/N, my name's Y/N Y/L/N. Pleasure's on my side." "Hey now, that's my line." - With a chuckle, Vander put down a cocktail in front of you. It was dark blue, frothy with crushed ice, decorated by a piece of orange and that pink cocktail umbrella you'd seen earlier. - "Look at the beauty." - Vander smiled, pushing it a bit closer. No idea what he was talking about (whether you or the cocktail), but your heart skipped a beat. Again. - "The best drink I can make. Hope it'll taste good. "How much?" "Hm?" - Vander asked, watching as you pulled out your wallet. "For the drinks. How much?" "Leave it, 's on the house." "No way, cowboy. How - much?" "Take it as compensation for Sevika's tantrum earlier, doll." - Fucking hell, this nickname almost gave you a heart attack. - "If you keep on flatterin' me, ya not payin' a single dime." "Unprofessional. Immature. Rude." - You gritted and passed a few Valors on the bar. - "Take the tip, at least." "'Aight. Can say no to that. If you'd want another drink or anythin' else, just wave at me. I'll be there in no time. Deal, sweetheart?" "What a smooth criminal you are, Vander. Thank you kindly." - As you took both drinks and walked back to your table, you couldn't see the smile freeze on Vander's face as you called him a 'smooth criminal'. Did you know? Had Greyson mentioned his impressive portfolio that still haunted him to that day? The Hound of the Underground. That's how people knew him, why they respected him.

"So, did we find the guy, or..." "Right there. The bartender. That's our guy." "Oh... Wow." - Ezreal leaned his elbow into the chair, eyeing Vander properly. - "Seems decent enough of a man. Expected someone older, though." "He's very nice and very polite." "Heh. Sure. Nice and polite." - Ezreal snickered, looking at you. You really had no fucking clue, did you? About how assertive you were, about how lovely the features of your face were. On the occasions, he and Jayce got you into a tight corner and you got flustered (which happened rarely) and you became a stuttering, annoyed mess, you were one of the most beautiful girls Ezreal had laid eyes on. And no, he wasn't saying it out of chivalry or because you two were best friends - it was because you were best that he pulled his head out of his ass for once and behaved the best he could. Back when you got the letter? Ezreal meant each word.

Collaborating with Vander actually wasn't as bad as you worried it'd be. With each meeting, you'd swoon harder and harder but managed to pull your head out of your ass to focus on the responsibilities at hand. In the beginning, Vander did his best to inform you about how things are and go in Zaun so you'd be accommodated better. Usually, he'd either invite you before he'd open the pub or reserve you a spot at the bar, where you'd talk about points that started coming up over time - like Enforcer oppression, increasing drug usage, and inadequate means for children to reach at least basic education. His points and observations were reasonable and understandable.

When he wouldn't be talking about business with you, as he settled on calling it, your mind would be consumed with him as he rambled about everything and nothing. Sometimes, you wouldn't even listen to him, you'd simply sip on your drink and let his deep voice intoxicate your brain. His smell, God almighty, his fucking smell. Over time, you've become mesmerized with the details. Vander throwing the tea towel over his broad shoulder, polishing the bar, the muscles on his back dancing in unison. How his fingers ruffled his hair. His smile when he greeted patrons and regulars. How he bit on his lower lip when he thought of a response. How he smoothed his beard when you said something out of pocket... So many details. You loved watching him like a stage play, especially when he served other guests. Did he know? He must've known - he'd send you a knowing grin each time your fingers brushed over the document you've been working on. Vander even went as far as figuring out which nickname you liked the most. Seeing as you shrugged and stuttered each time he'd call you a doll, it became his most used word.

Was he this attentive to all the other female guests? You couldn't tell. You liked watching him work, yes, but you weren't listening in on their conversation. Was it a formality, due to occupation, a game or did he mean it when he occasionally flirted with you? Some compliments Vander came up with left you speechless. He was the man to notice subtle wardrobe changes and make-up experimentations, mainly because you dressed differently than 90% of the local population. He'd be the first to comment on phrases 'so Piltoverian it hurt'. When it got late enough at the Last Drop and you'd be tipsy enough, Vander got daring enough to compliment your smile, saying it always 'lit up his entire day'. This man knew how to run his fucking mouth, sending you into spirals each time he'd whip out a compliment.

What he was hesitant about, however, was touching you - in moments when he stopped paying attention, his hand would slip on your shoulder blades as he watched you writing into the document. You never commented on it, you loved it when he touched you - it sent a heat wave through your entire body, making your breath hitch in your throat and push your thighs close together. As soon as he saw you looking at his palm, it would be gone from your back, leaving you craving more.

Benzo became one of your best friends in the Undercity, you had to admit. He had his oddities, but he'd welcome you inside his shop whenever you dropped for a visit. Ekko, the young boy you've met earlier, was introduced to you as his ward. The boy grew to adore you - you'd bring him sweets when you visited Piltover and tell him about how it looks and works up there. Benzo explained that his ward is very good with inventions, a scientist by heart - you'd promised Ekko you'd show him Jayce's workshop sometime in the future. Each time he'd be in Last Drop, whenever you came to have something to eat, a drink, or work with Vander, Benzo'd wave at you over the entire pub and save you a spot on the bar. Even though his business surely had little to nothing to do with legality, you grew fond of him.

That night, you've waited until Vander would close the pub. The place slowly depopulated while Vander flickered most of the lighting, drowning it in darkness. The only remaining light was above your head, shining right into the Blue Lagoon you'd ordered earlier. "And who'd busted your bubble?" - Vander asked quietly, watching as you played around with the cocktail umbrella. No matter what drink you ordered, he ensured you'd always have a cocktail umbrella stuck in. - "Even put some oranges in it, you've seemed to enjoy it the last time." "Just tired, I think, been finishing the document so I can turn it in. Grammar and formatting are a pain in the ass." "Sorry to hear that, doll." - The big guy huffed, sitting on the neighboring stool while patting your shoulder. Joining in, he poured himself a beer. Again, your breath hitched as you enjoyed every second of his body touching yours. - "What was wrong with the last draft? Thought it looked decent 'nough?" "Overlooked some paragraphs and spacing. Council would return it to me the moment they'd notice." "Well, 't least you tried." "Hm." - You sighed, putting your head on the bar.

"Hey, you." - Vander chuckled, his head cocked to the side as he tried keeping eye contact with you. - "Can you smile?" "Why would I do that? I'm suffering." "C'mon, pretty girl. Smile." - He'd whisper, gently caressing your back. The caress made you breathe in shakily, smiling as he asked. - "See? The nite is suddenly much better." "You're such a comedian. Why do I take the bait each time?" "Maybe you like smilin' at someone handsome as me?" - Vander opposed, making you giggle. He was the handsome man you'd met, that much was true.

It wasn't just about being attracted to him at this point, though. There was more than level-surface attraction and crackling chemistry - you liked him. Seriously liked him. As you lay away in your flat, you'd play with your blanket and think about how things could be in a perfect world - Vander would close the inn and come home shortly after midnight, kissing you on the forehead after he'd take off his jacket. That would most certainly wake you up, so you'd join him in the kitchen for a bit before leading him to bed. You usually had to stop yourself, forcefully, from letting the daydream carry on - you'd only imagine stripping him of his clothes when you got desperate enough, jerking off before sleep. It needed to be let out. Vander had to know how you felt about him. To either decline your offer or agree to try pushing the boundaries a bit. You've been tipsy enough to conclude that confrontation was a great fucking idea - you've had enough of watching other women goggling their eyes at him, pushing their breasts together as they'd order. It was bothering to look at his well-trained smile (the smile you've learned to love) as he answered them, winking their way. You liked the guy, you loved spending time with him... And he seemed to be interested as well. To what degree, you had no idea about it, but he surely liked having you around.

"Or maybe..." - It took all of your courage to turn at him, putting your palm on his upper thigh. Vander's fingers stopped caressing the glass, squinted his eyes, and tried deciphering what you've been up to. Your touch felt wonderful and, for the love of God, you smelled so good. "What has gotten into you, doll, hm?" - The man whispered, gently moving strands of your hair out of your face, smiling warmly. Your eyes were open wide, filled with little sparkles as you stared at his face. "I want to kiss you, Vander." - With those words, his motions stopped altogether.

Of course, he thought about kissing you. Multiple times - each time you were sitting at the bar and sent him a smile, to be precise. It would be easy to simply lean over, smooth your cheek, and steal all your thunder. In fact, you couldn't have an idea what you were doing to him, intoxicating his brain with the sweetest scenarios and possibilities. It would be the easiest way of shutting you up whenever Vander got you flustered; he enjoyed when you turned into a stuttering, annoyed cute little mess, though. It was endearing watching you try to get yourself off the sinking boat while digging yourself a deep grave. Vander also thought about much more than just kissing you - he'd seen you naked so many times (inside his head), he'd swear he'd recognize your body amongst other women, even with the lights off. Your strange turns of phrases often made his tummy tingle with butterflies as he laughed, explaining to you that you sounded too Piltoverian. Your expression and widened eyes goggling at him made him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside... You've managed to make the Hound of the Underground soften. Fucking God almighty, your outfits made Vander's heart flutter - it was a mix of everything; sometimes you'd be wearing a fluffy white blouse paired with a brown tar-tar vest and derby trousers, other times you'd appear in a bright-colored dress and paired with, again, a tight vest. Even though you always looked out of place, Vander loved that about you. His eyes never searched for you too long, not to mention you looked like an absolute goddess. The derby trousers did nothing for your buttcheeks. When serving, he'd have to keep himself away from you so he wouldn't slap them. How would you sound if he'd made you squeak? Or if you'd be a whining, meowling mess as he'd hover over you, losing his senses to you? How would his name sound when screamed at the top of your lungs?

No matter how hard Vander had it for you (literally and figuratively), there wasn't a world when it would work for both of you. He'd been a Zaunite gangster back in the day, recently reformed into a full-time father and pub owner. Ah, when talking about fatherhood - you didn't even know he's looking after four fucking kids. You didn't have a clue about Vi, Powder, Mylo and Claggor. How could you? Such a pretty young thing didn't deserve a life like this - bound to one place without the alternative to leave. Vander couldn't leave Zaun. But you could. Each time Vander realized how intelligent you truly were, it would knock the air outta his lungs - if there was anyone with a bright future, it got to be you. You had the entire Runeterra laying at your feed, ready for you to explore every nook and cranny. You had places to be, people to meet, work to do... No way he'd let you throw that away for someone like himself. Compared to you, he'd been significantly older, slower and already set in his tracks - you had a whole life ahead of you.

One kiss couldn't ruin anything, could it? You've been tipsy, ogling each other for the entire night, saying shit you shouldn't really say. He wasn't afraid of rejection - Vander was perceptive enough to recognize bedroom eyes on a woman from a mile away. He was afraid of rejecting you. Now that he knew you, it was impossible to imagine Last Drop without having you around. Benzo was fond of you, Ekko loved you (Benzo admitted that the little boy might be crushing on you a teeny-tiny bit) and most of the locals started treating you as an equal. You... You couldn't disappear out of his life.

He'd hesitated for too long. The grip on his thigh started to weaken as you pulled away, flustered beyond any reason - you were turning away, awkwardly coughing into your sleeve. Everything inside his body froze before he could stop it, pushing your palm back where it was - on his thigh, squeezing it gently. As you turned to face him, he leaped forward, kissing you. It made your head spin, that's how good of a kiss it was. Things you hadn't enough courage to admit out loud, all the desire and tension resulted in teeth clattering, tongues dancing, and lips crashing again... And again... And again. You've kissed like nothing else mattered, slipping off the stools - his knee parted your legs while his palms roamed his sides and lower back, spreading them further apart as he pressed you onto the bar, palms sliding along your curved back. If Vander hadn't the willpower to snap out, you'd likely end up bent over the pool table or the tappers. Thankfully, when he felt your fingers tugging his shirt out of his pants, he stepped away, catching your palm in his.

"I... 'm sorry, doll, I shouldn't have done that, I dunno what's gotten into me." - Vander whispered apologetically, awkwardly picking up the stool you'd knocked to the ground during the kiss. "There's nothing to be sorry about, I asked for it." "Doll, there's everythin' to be sorry 'bout." "What do you mean?" - As he registered the vulnerability in your voice, his eyes snapped to you, still leaning your back into the bar. God, you looked amazing with your lips swollen from the kiss. There wasn't time to admire, you, however -this was a fine line Vander found himself on. One wrong word and you could slip past his fingers, never to be seen again.

"You... You shouldn't even be here this late, sweetheart." "Are you trying to say you don't want me here? That none of this is... Real? Was it a game for you?" - The moment you started doubting this, Vander's finger snapped at you as he shook his head. "That's not what I'm sayin'. You should be in your bed, fallin' asleep next to someone your age, maybe that blonde boy'f yours. Seems to have the hots for you, poor kid. Instead, you're here, spendin' your time with someone like me." "Someone like you?" "I could be your father, Y/N." - Vander hissed. Wow. You couldn't recall the last time he'd use your first name - he had to be worked up real bad. "You'd have to start really early, then." - You chuckled, continuing before he caught another wind. - "You're getting yourself too worked up over nothing. It's... Just a kiss, nothing more - I'll still be your regular. I loved it." - Even though the last sentence was a mere whisper, it made Vander straighten up. The explosion of a guttural warmth inside his chest was insane, almost setting him on fire. Even though it wasn't any concrete confession, one step would lead to another...

"'t felt good tonite, will feel like shit tomorrow morning, doll, you'll see." - Sighing, Vander stepped closer to you, leaning into the bar while taking one of your palms to his, playing with your fingers. - "Whatcha thinkin', doll? A Piltie like you with a Tencher like me? C'mon now, what good would that bring?" - Taking a breath, Vander pushed a stand of your hand behind your ear. "How about you let me decide what I'd like to do and how I feel about kissing you? That okay?" - Sighing, you leaned your forehead into his shoulder and gently hugged his waist with your palms. - "I'll let you know the next time I drop by."

"Okay, lemme say it differently - what would such a pretty little pet like you even do with an old geezer like me? You're not just someone, you've even studied at the Academy - the Undercity ain't somethin' you should be aimin' for, Y/N. When I look at you, I see the future. And a damn bright one at that." - His fingers were ghosting along your jaw, his heart thumping steadily. You knew the tone and look in his eyes - like a kid staring at a toy they wouldn't be able to get in a million years. - "And when you change the world, me and Benzo'll tell everyone about ya - 'Y/N? That's our girl, one of the Zaunites; the one who'd been kind enough to kiss an old fool like me'." "To which I'd say I wished you'd kiss me ever since I've met. You're just... Like a fire and I'm a moth, constantly gravitating towards you. When you're not around, it's like my breathing gets heavier, I'm worrying about where you are, what you're doing, and if you're okay... And when I see you, this warmth spreads through my chest. There's not a day when I wouldn't wanna see you and let you poke at my accent or turns of phrases. Vander, I... I... I should go." - With that, you pushed Vander off and picked up your belongings, putting a few Valors on the bars as you usually did. If you continue running your mouth, you'll start unveiling things you did your best to keep hidden away from Vander. For example, that you loved him.

If you weren't so nervous, you wouldn't miss the mesmerized look Vander gave you, breathlessly staring at you. He knew what you've been trying to say - he was on the same boat. He was just a man in his best years trying to get by, helping his community and people. It was so fucking hard to believe a girl like you liked him for what he was. If you'd say it out loud, he'd believe you. He'd even say it back. Three words - such a short phrase would become his favorite. If you had enough courage to say it, he'd repeat it over and over. Instead, he watched as you packed your things, holding everything together with a last-ditch effort. - "If I keep on going, Vander, I'd probably say things neither of us want to hear. If a kiss made the situation this messy, we wouldn't withstand what's on my mind. I... I'll see you around, I promise."

God. You were wrong. So fucking wrong. You're almost out of the door when you hear Vander calling out your name, making you turn around. He'd been mustering up the strength to say it, but before he could... The courage dissipated as you smiled at him. - "Hm?" The way he stared at you dried your mouth and your knees weakened. If you've ever seen bedroom eyes on anyone, this was it. His eyes darkened, his breath short as he tried to come up with something... Anything. Lust was a double-edged sword, that much you realized. Vander would get on his knees to hear whatever stupid shit you had on your mind if there was a slight possibility you felt the same - if that'd be the case, you'd end up bent over the bar. Drunk fucking, that would be the worst thing you could do. If you'd get down to it, you wanted Vander to be sober. You wanted to be sure it was just him touching you, whispering sweet nothings, moaning at appropriate times; not alcohol. You didn't want it to be remorse either. The moment would be right if Vander hadn't started overthinking and overcomplicating shit. "I'll go now, Vander. Remember... I won't even regret kissing you."

You didn't have the balls to go for a beer for the two following weeks. You avoided The Last Drop as if it were a plague epicenter, not even looking its way when you walked through the Lanes. Benzo caught up on the shift, asking if everything was alright. Since Vander seemingly didn't bother with informing Benzo about what happened, you hadn't either; when you popped by his pawn ship to drop off some sweets for Ekko, Benzo even got the audacity to tell you that: 'Vander misses you, asks for you every nite, girl. Whatever the old bastard had done can't be that bad, can it?' Did Vander even do anything wrong? He hadn't outright rejected you, had he? It almost seemed he'd admit there's more to it than just a kiss. Emotions, perhaps? Well, you've been on a streak of childish behavior and you planned to continue.

No matter how long you worked during the night, Vander plagued your mind. You've missed him, the way he smiled at you, gently caressed you with his looks, and how delicate his tone was when he spoke with you. It was strange to work in silence since you've gotten used to the vivacity of the Last Drop. Your flat suddenly felt like a prison - too small, too dark, and too quiet. Even when Ezreal came over to visit you and sleepover, it didn't brighten up the mood. The boy wasn't stupid when it came to crushes and lovesickness - as soon as he heard you sigh, he'd been onto your ass, trying to lure details outta you. It wasn't a bad idea, actually - you needed your friends to help you solve the conundrum of 'Vander'.

"And... You left after that?" - Ezreal asked, genuinely shocked. You've called for an emergency meeting at Jayce's - all three of you were splattered all over Jayce's sofa, sipping on a beer, eating take-out. "What else was I supposed to do?" "So, you've fallen in love with this amazing Trencher..." - Jayce mumbled through the noodles in his mouth, sitting up. - "And he kissed you like anyone before?" "Yeah, it was... Wow. We've knocked over a few stools, even, but we were both drunk." - You reminded, sighing. "Have you seen how he looks at you?" - Ezreal asked you, having you cock your head towards him dumbfoundedly. - "Every time we're there for a drink, the guy doesn't look at anyone but you. Like there's no other person in the pub, just you."

"Have you heard a word from what I've told you?" "You ran away after he pointed out a few excellent points instead of telling him what's on your mind... And then left him conscience-stricken for two weeks. Without dropping by to tell him you're just confused." - Jayce reiterated. It wasn't like that, was it? You didn't run away without telling - Vander surely knew. Why didn't he comment or answer it in any way? It wasn't just your fault - there were two to blame. "I'm... I wasn't confused." "Don't take this personally, but we've never seen you fall in love with anyone. You fooled around at the Academy - who didn't? But it looks like when it comes to real feelings... You're not too good at conveying them. Lemme guess - you started talking, said something incredibly cheesy, and then rambled, didn't you?" - Ezreal asked, smoothing your shoulder. How did he know? God, these guys knew you better than you could ever know yourself. - "In response, Vander started rambling about the future - about how it couldn't be good for you and stuff. Even though it might've come across as dismissive, Y/N, that man thought about a future by your side. Also, we can't see every thought that goes inside that brain of yours, so it can be confusing to navigate at times. You love him, then? And want to fu..." - Ezreal nibbled on, making you unnerved and flustered. Was he just about to ask you if you wanted to fuck Vander? That casually, like it's nothing? "Yes, Ezreal, yes! I can't think of anything but him, I can't eat, can't sleep..." - You exclaimed, standing up to take a long breath. The duo gave you a run for your money, you had to admit. - "All I want is him. But I don't know how to do it or what to say. That's why we're here."

"Then I don't see a problem here. Do you, Ezreal?" "None, Jayce." "We're on the same page, then." - Jayce smiled, clinking his bottle to Ezreal's before taking a good swing. - "God, these noodles are so good." "If you two don't talk, I swear on Heimerdinger's inventions..." "Vander, from what I've gathered, is an upfront, honest guy..." - Jayce started, having Ezreal nod in confirmation. "... Then it's obvious what you have to do. Just tell him. Which part? I don't know. Just go for it." "That's the best piece of advice you got for me - 'just tell him'? Isn't that what I attempted last time?" "Oh, Y/N, girl." - Ezreal howled, pushing you back to the sofa between Jayce and him, and handing you back your beer. - "This time, you're gonna go straight to the point. No cheesiness, no romance - it'll be a love confession, but you see what I mean, right? Let me phrase it delicately... You'll tell him all about those dirty scenarios inside your head. We guys love hearing stuff like that, it boosts our confidence." "For once, I second everything Ezreal said. You got this, Y/N, look at yourself. Ezreal is mostly right when sensing crushes - if he says Vander's got it bad for you, I'd trust him."

Ezreal didn't leave you on your own, God bless this sweet summer child - he'd made sure you'd really go talking to Vander, even helped you with picking out the outfit. He'd put together something insanely simple, yet elegant - a white lacey dress, a suiting black vest with golden detailing to match your Wellington boots. When enriched with adequate, very subtle golden accessories, and the right hairstyle... "God, Ezreal. When did you plan on letting me know you're a fashionista?" - You wondered, turning around to see every inch of you. You had these pieces for years and never thought enough to piece them together. Your fashion sense wasn't bad, per se, but faded in comparison to Ezreal's. "I've been making fashion statements for some time now, one'd assume you noticed since we hang out all the time." - The boy muttered, sitting on your bed. "I look so good." - Still checking yourself out, you leaned towards the mirror to look at how the golden necklace sits on your neck. "You always did. I just pushed it a step further, that's all." - Making you stand up, Ezreal caught your shoulders and looked you in the eyes. - "What's the plan? Run it by me one last time."

"I'll walk in the Last Drop, looking like a million Valors." "Duh." "Tell Vander I'd like to talk to him... Alone." "Yeah?" "And when we're alone, I'll tell him what I wanna do to him... Which will be so incredibly disgraceful and awkward..." "It'll be disgraceful and awkward if you don't pull yourself together. Be confident, smirk, touch him, smooth his shoulder, bite your lip, wiggle your eyebrows - just don't turn into a flustered mess. Imagine you're in a debating competition if that helps. Show him how serious you are, don't leave a single question unanswered." - Coach Ezreal instructed you, having you nod with fiery passion. While not known for his intelligence prowess, Ezreal was a great leader and an amazing empath. He'd known you much better than you knew yourself, helping you cross bridges you'd deemed impossible. Now, he was doing it again.

"Alright, seems to me you're in the right zone and everything. My job here is done." - The boy grinned, fixing a few strands of hair behind your ear. - "I gotta catch a date for myself." "Who's the poor soul? Do I know 'em?" - You wondered, the Undercity accent rubbing its way in. No wonder, you've been living in Zaun for at least three months by that point. Ezreal didn't point it out, just grinned while picking up his stuff lying around. "Linda from the study department." "Wow!" - You exclaimed, locking your flat. You'd walk Ez out on your way to the Last Drop. - "Why do you sound so down, then? Weren't you pinning against Linda for months?" "Eh... I mean, yeah... The problem is I asked her out at a party, super-drunk, and everything. Don't even remember what I fooled her into believing. Remember that faculty party you didn't come with me because you were too busy ogling at Vander?" "Hey, I'm not taking accountability for that. Jayce was your babysitter for the night." "He, for one, was busy ogling some guy from Heimer's office and didn't make it in time to inform Linda it's not a great idea." - Ezreal grinned, watching as you gasped for air. Ogling a guy from Heimer's office? Damn.

"How come I hadn't heard about this 'till now?" "You were too busy putting that draft together. Even sobbed about it when I slept over last week. Didn't think telling you about Jayce's romantic endeavors would help much." "And... Who's the guy? Do we know him? What's Jayce's type?" - Eyebrows wiggling, you pressed on, making Ezreal chuckle. "No, don't know him, I saw him at the party for the first time. How'd I describe him... Frail and foreign for sure. Don't take it wrong, he's... Strangely handsome, that one. Think it's the accent doing it for our poor old Jayce." "Fuck me." - You snorted, opening the front door. - "Our science bro has it down bad for other scientists. Twist of the century." "I liked Viktor." - Ez mumbled while leading you towards the main parade. - "He's snarky and most likely a genius. Zaunite by heart, strangely perceptive, weirdly confident in the best way... You'd love him." "You think Jayce would ask him on his own?" "Eh, no, not really. I'll start working on setting them up soon." "What would we do without our romance and fashion guru, Mr. Lymere?" - Looking him in the eyes, you smiled while Ezreal caught your hands in his, nodding at you.

"Now, forget all about Talis and his non-existent game... I mean, the guy can flirt, that's for sure, but..." "Not the point, Ez." "Right." - Ezreal nodded some more, clearing his throat. - "When you come tomorrow evening for the play, all I'm going to hear about is how this hunky, handsome guy blew your back out, 'kay?" "Ez!" - It was a squeal as you started to laugh, stepping aside, breaking the moment. - "You gotta stop saying that. I'm not good with... Saying this stuff out loud, you know that." "Good luck, lovely." - The boy leaned in, kissed your cheek, and sent you one of his typical smiles before turning on his heels and leaving. God, you loved Ezreal.

As Coach Ezreal coaxed you into doing, you did your best to walk into the Last Drop like a million Valors (not to mention the intense break you took leaned into the pub's wall, trying to get your shit together). As per usual, the place was lively - people haggling around, playing cards, jukebox playing a nice tune while they drank. Since it was the weekend, Vander wasn't behind the bar alone; Vera and Jakob were his backup for the night. You'd admired how Vander and his part-timers work in unison. Their responsibilities were strictly given, so each of them had their own little universe to keep in check - Vander dealt with the orders, Vera mixed cocktails and prepared snacks and Jakob ensured there were always enough dishes. "Look who we got here! Hey, Y/N!" - Benzo's voice exclaimed so loudly it was heard all over the pub - some locals acknowledged you with a nod or wave, not staring for too long. Benzo, however, was seemingly happy to have his drinking buddy back in business. As you made your way towards the bar, you'd let the guy hug you clumsily before stepping aside.

The bartender hadn't said a word to acknowledge your presence. Hadn't even looked your way, it seemed. Was he hurt, just like Ezreal expected? Was he pissed to see you walk in so casually? Why didn't he reach out, then? You'd bet your money that he knew where you lived - one could never keep a secret while living in the Lanes. It took all your willpower to snap your eyes into Vander's face, waiting for him to do anything, say something so you'd know what you're on. Funnily enough, Vander didn't plan on making it easier for you. At first, you were worried that he'd truly become indifferent. Devil's always in the detail, you reminded yourself, searching for signs of what's going on inside his head. When you started noticing, your heart fluttered in your chest, hot blood rushed into your cheeks. His eyes lingered on your lips, the gulp he'd desperately tried to suppress, the grip tightening around the glasses he polished. He'd held onto them to forcefully his knuckles turned white.

"It's so good to see you, both of you." - With a smile, you turned towards the bar. Vander automatically pulled out your favorite coater (he'd hide it away from other guests, this one was yours specifically), leaning his hands into the desk like a let-down parent. "What can I get you?" - His mumble was quiet, devoid of any emotion. No nicknames, no jokes, no flirting, huh? He'd really have to be pissed off, then. "I'm here on business, actually." - Sending him a sweet smile didn't help either? Damn. - "Could I steal you for a minute or two? Won't be keeping you long and then I'm out of your hair, promise." "Somethin' goin' down up there?" - Benzo asked with worries in his tone. "Nothing I can't take off, Benzo. Just need Vander's expert opinion, that's all. He'll be back before you know it. Shall we?" - With a clap of hands, you sent Vander yet another warm smile. The bartender raised his eyebrows, sighed, and put his tea towel on the bar. Picking up his sandwich, he'd informed Vera about being gone for fifteen minutes (for his break) at tops before vaguely gesturing for you to follow him. Fifteen minutes was all you got, huh? Fuck.

You'd expect him to lead you to his office on the upper floor - Vander didn't deem you worthy enough to sit on his plushy chairs, because he'd open the back pantry for you, opting you to sit on one of the barrels. "Well, start talkin'. We ain't have the whole evenin' - is it about the readin' or somethin'?" - Without an ounce of care, he'd peeled the napkin off his sandwich, chewing on it. "How... Have you been?" "How have I... Thought you wanna talk business, young lady." - Vander reiterated mockingly, looking away from you; his eyes had been stuck on your lacy dress, drowning in the sight of your breasts pushed together to form a delightful cleavage - it wasn't showing too much, but it definitely showed more than usual. Your breasts looked so... He'd been this close to reaching towards you, undoing the vest so he could squeeze them and nuzzle his head to your chest. Fuck, you looked so absurdly alluring and tantalizing Vander couldn't stand to look at you. He was mad at you just an hour ago - he couldn't give in that easily. He'd spent the last two weeks being absolutely miserable - your seat remained empty night after night, your coater hidden behind the tappers. Even though he'd known you weren't coming, he'd always ushered customers from sitting on your stool - his mind often going back to your carefree smile, your elbow supporting your head as you watched every move Vander made, reminding him of the cute expression on your face. Even the kids caught onto his mood swings - Vi laid into him regarding what, to quote her, 'Fucking busted his bubble?'

It took you a lot of courage to pick yourself off the barrel, stepping closer to him. Did you look seductive? You didn't feel like it at fucking all. Vander freezing like a deer in the headlights hinted that you were on the right track.

"I'm here to finish the conversation we started last week." "Not this again..." - Vander countered and started picking himself up to leave - it was a surprise when you pushed him back on his ass, keeping one hand on his shoulder, soothing his jaw with your other one. "I don't think I made myself clear enough." "Oh, trust me, darlin', you've said plenty..." "Yeah? Then you're gonna listen to it all again, I guess. Poor you." - The sandwich was long forgotten, lying on one of the shelves as you cocked your head to the side, sending Vander the calmest, sweetest smile you could muster. Holy shit, you realized, Ezreal's advice worked. Vander couldn't look away from you as you leaned your knee between his, planting your thumb on his lower lip to enthuse you'd love to kiss him again. Feeling the softness of his mouth made you lick your lips.

"I hoped you'd be smarter than this, sweetheart." - Vander whispered, finally giving in to your touch - you could feel his fingers creeping up your calves, gently lifting your skirt up, traveling up to your thighs. - "I ain't good news for a young thing like you. You'll get bored soon 'nough, leavin' me behind. Won't even remember me a few years from now... Thought you not showin' up was a good sign." "Good sign?" "That you'd understood what I tried to say and decided it would be best not to fool around with someone like me." "I thought about this a lot over the last week - about you, me, and what I tried to do. I was drunk, we both were, and words didn't come across as I'd like 'em to." - Lifting his chin up, you started playing with his hair. - "No matter how much you hate hearing this, I'm really into you. I think I'm in love with you."

Everything stopped for a second - his grip on your thighs tightened as he brought you closer, staring at you with pure adoration. His expression didn't reflect all the love and happiness behind his eyes, but the fireworks going off told you more than you needed to know. He'd felt the same, to one degree or another. There wasn't any rush to say it back - when he opened his mouth to talk, your finger stopped him as you pressed it there. Cheekily, Vander planted a kiss on it, waiting for what you wanted to say. Rest assured, your words almost gave him a heart attack.

"Now - stop fucking telling me how I'll feel or what I'll do in a few years. I want to be in the now with you and you're making it pretty fucking difficult. How about you just forget about everything for one night and show me how you feel about me? I don't care if this isn't a good long-term decision or whatever you're about to say - you're what I want most now. And even if I'd become a real diplomat one day... Vander, we're smart. We can figure it out. Stay in the moment, here with me." - Stepping in, you could feel your thighs bump into his abdomen - still holding his head in your palm, you were standing directly above him. Fucking hell, he was even more handsome up close. You loved every small wrinkle and crevice of his skin, an almost invisible scar on his lower lip, prominent cheekbones, and hair so soft you wanted to simply tug on it. His fingers on your thighs started to move up and down, caressing your smooth skin - even that alone was enough to make you meowl softly.

"So, therefore, I propose we drop the act and focus on letting whatever this is blossom. Fuck, you have no idea about how many times I'd imagined kissing you, Vander, how I melt each time you smile or give me a cheesy compliment. No other man in my life makes my hands shake just by standing beside me. You have no idea how many times I've dreamt you'd be in my bed, taking my clothes off and eating me out... And all the things I'd like to do to you, shit." - You continued mumbling erratically, not really paying attention to what was leaving your mouth - Vander seemed mesmerized either way as he bent your knees carefully, lifting you up to sit his lap (given he was sitting on a barrel, that shit must've been uncomfortable as fuck). Hearing you curse for the first time was an out-of-world experience for him, especially when accompanied by quiet hisses and subtle moans. Every word leaving your lips was dipped in honey, making him gasp for air helplessly - if he'd like to, he was sure you'd be willing to undress right there and then. Your knees fit around his waist as if he was made for you, his hardening dick pressing onto your thigh the moment you wiggled a bit. Feeling him made you gulp and lick your lips as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, playing with his hair.

"I don't know what you're so scared of? I'm here, you're here... Let's just... See what happens." "Ain't this an abuse of power, miss diplomat?" - He whispered, making you giggle. "Would be if you didn't want to fuck me as desperately as I wanna fuck you." - You whispered, stealing a quick peck off his lips. This broke the dam, causing all the feelings and emotions to flood out. "You - have - no - idea - what - ya - doin' - to - me - doll." - After each word, Vander stole a kiss from your lips, his palms lifting your ass, making you rock on his waist, grinding on his dick with a raisin intensity. Each movement made you moan breathily, sending chills down your spine. and started grinding your groin against his, earning a breathy moan from you. - "Seein' you talk to men makes my blood boil 'cause I want to be the only one you give that pretty smile to. I wanna be the one wakin' up next to you, caressin' your skin, help you with showerin' your back, and see all the newest clothes and underwear you bring home... Mainly the latter, 'f course. I just... I just wanna be your man." "Then show me, baby." - You whispered quietly, pulling him for a proper kiss, grinding against his lap in a steady rhythm. Warmth was spreading through your tummy, making it tighten each time your clit grazed the fabric of his trousers.

"I'd love nothin' else, doll..." - The man hummed, holding your chin between his fingers. Dear lord almighty, you looked more sensual than any woman he'd met before you - you seemed to be intoxicated from his kisses and words, your face burning up as he dragged his finger along your cheek. Each time you rocked your hips over his cock, your entire body shivered, eyelids fluttering. Realizing it was him making you meowl, that he kissed you so passionately that your lips were swollen was the hottest turn-on he'd ever felt. - "But my break is almost over. No way I'd undress you in this damn pantry for our first time, you deserve somethin' much better. You free tonight?" "Hmhm? What do you have on mind?" "Come pick me up after I close down. I'll make us dinner. We'll see where the things go from there, yeah?" "Can't wait, handsome."

After Vander watched you leave the Last Drop with a shy smile, his eyes glued to your ass, he couldn't stop grinning. Five hours remaining until your randez-vouz... A whole fucking eternity. The tent in his pants was unquenchable, no matter how many hairy men Vander attempted to imagine. This tween behavior made Benzo grin - he didn't need to ask what you've been up to, he already knew. Watching Vander's blush and his constant throat clearing was enough of a show in itself. Business his ass; Benzo and Vera actually bet if you'd have sex right then and there or if you'd wait for a better moment. Vera was now 20 Valors richer.

"Could you take over the tappers for a minute?" - Vander asked, looking at the drink she was just finishing - you'd like it. Filled with pieces of chopped fruit, a very refreshing mix of spirits and lemonade. - "Gotta arrange somethin' real quick." "You got it, V." - Vera called over her shoulder, showing Vander a thumbs-up. Leaving his tea towel on the bar, Vander turned on his heels to walk into the basement - this was his kids' designed hangout spot when they didn't feel like exploring Lanes. And since Vi was under house arrest, they've been lounging around it all weekend.

"Oh, hey." - Claggor was first to acknowledge him - he and small Powder were playing tick-tack-toe while Mylo read in the corner, only sending him a nod. Vi was sitting on the couch with her palms under her head, staring at the ceiling. "What's up, old man?" - Vi muttered, sitting up. She had the most authority over the group, so she needed to be pressured the most - getting along with her meant getting along with the rest of the kids. At this point, Vi wasn't even mad, unlike a month back - now, she spent most of the time thinking about how to avoid Vander's attention next time, ticking off the few remaining days on her hands.

"I wanna make a deal with ya, kids." - Vander started, leaning his ass into the counter below him. Everyone was paying attention now, their head turned directly at him. The truth was - he needed the flat empty if he wanted to host a dinner for you and fuck senseless after... Which would be difficult with four fucking kids around. - "I'll let Vi off the hook sooner if you'd sleep here, need ya outta my hair. Just for tonight." "Why?" - Powder wondered, her enormous blue eyes ogling at Vander. It was time to blush, sweat, and truly clear his throat. All the kids stared at him before Mylo exclaimed 'Aaaaah', laughing at Vander's busted ass. "... Our old man got himself a date." - The boy explained - before he managed to utter another word, Vi gripped her palm around his shoulder. "That's all she needs to know." - The girl ended topically, grinning at Vander. - "That's it? No buts or ifs if we stay the night here? That's all you askin'? You'll just... Let me off the hook?" "Depends, have you learned your lesson?" "Of course I did." - The girl answered, emphasis on the word 'did'. Yeah, right, and Vander was the newest fucking councilor. The kids started nodding frantically, making the old man chuckle. - "We all did. Last month had been very educational for all four of us." "Then you're off the hook. Of course, in case of an emergency, just come ask for help - I'll be here for you..." - Vander informed swiftly, watching as Vi sat next to him with an angelic smile - from his experience, she was about to ask the stupidest fucking question he'd heard all day. "Is it the pretty one? That one sitting on the bar all the time and staring at you as if she'd never seen a man? She has it bad for you." "You're begging for another month of house arrest." "Hadn't even said anything!" - The girl laughed, taking Vander's answer as a yes.

Striking a deal with the kids was a double-edged sword - they might be grateful for now, but jokes and innuendos were coming Vander's way, for sure. He needed to embrace all parts of fatherhood - the good parts, like Powder's drawings on the fridge or Vi's occasional hugs as well as the bad parts, consisting, for example, of the kids consistently finding sex and relationships cringe and disgusting. "Can I ask a favor from ya?" - Vander stopped in the doorframe, looking at the kids. - "Would you clean up the mess you've made yesterday?" "Oh, yeah... The pancakes..." - Powder sighed, remembering all the dirty dishes and ingredients plastered all over the kitchen sink. That might've been her job. Vander (while being very grateful for the breakfast) asked the kids if a bomb had gone off in the kitchen. "No problem, big guy, you got it!" - Vi exclaimed, her eyes shining as she just found another angle for a stupid statement. - "Everything will be good as new for your big night, on my honor." "You're on some mighty thin ice here." - The old man mumbled, but couldn't hide the grin appearing on his face.

Waiting for the Last Drop to close was endless, you'd swear - you'd change into outfit after outfit, trying out different underwear sets and even switching your hairstyle three times. You'd decided on something more decadent and less showy - while the afternoon visit was to seduce Vander, now you wanted to be more you - while being less fashionista, your outfits were still cute. Even walking into the establishment was nerve-wracking - just as you slipped through the door, Vera was leaving for the night after cleaning the whole place up. Jakob was long gone after that point - his mom was sick, so he'd leave around ten, leaving the two to deal with the locals and patrons.

"Hey." - You waved, smiling at the guy shyly. Vander was just polishing the tappers - you loved how his hand moved steadily, showing all the veins on his forearm. "Hey, you. Lookin' cute." - The man didn't waste any time making you fluster as you put your bag on your stool - you'd packed a few spare things to change into. "How was the night?" - Without hesitation, you'd walk behind the bar and roll up your sleeves to sort the different glass types Vander had lying around. "C'mhere. Forgotten somethin', silly." - Without notifying you, the man hugged your hips and pulled you in for a kiss - no matter your wet hands. Giggling, you didn't hesitate to kiss him back, gently smoothing his chin.

"Missed ya here, sweetheart." "I'm here now... And I'm starving." "Let me finish up so I can cook you somethin' delicious, doll." - Gently slapping your ass (melting at your surprised squeal), the man started finishing the very last chores feverishly. "I'm here to help - after I finish the glasses, what's on the agenda?" "Nothin' for you. I'd like some help in the kitchen, though." "Got it. Well..." - Smiling at him, you'd slap his ass back. It was a homely gesture you enjoyed, honestly. Something about slapping ass and watching his eyes shine as he glared at you made your heart flutter - getting another kiss helped too.

Vander's flat was on the top floor of the Last Drop - it was spacious, but felt crowded at the same time, for an inexplicable reason. There was a lot of stuff. Even though it was tidy, you got a chaotic vibe from the place... That meant you wouldn't like it, however. The design was incongruous, as you'd expected from a bachelor's fault - the pieces of furniture didn't match at all (in case they did, it was only vague), and the decoration was lacking, but he'd everything he needed. The flat smelled nice, unlike the rest of Zaun - like wood, oranges, jasmine, and his musk... It smelled like him.

"Welcome to my little kingdom." "Mhm, I like it here... A lot. Feels quite like home." - Your words made him smile even more widely than before - walking to you, he gently held your head in his palms before lowering his, kissing you with a happy hum. It was a sweet, delicate romantic kiss; his lips gently brushed yours, his palms slowly traveling onto your shoulders, copying the curve of your back and settling on your ass, bringing you impossibly close. "Let's get cookin' before you make me lose my damn mind, doll." - With a last caress of your jaw, he'd walk into a spacious kitchen/dining room. The table was impressively large - enough to host at least seven people. That was where you noticed it for sure - a lonely crayon forgotten under the table and children's drawings on the pantry door. Observing them, you nodded to yourself, putting your bag onto one of the chairs.

"There are... Nice." - You muttered, pointing at them. His expression froze for a second before he joined you in observing the masterpieces. "Mhm. I like 'em a lot. Always make my day." "Who gave them to you?" - With the most innocent expression you could muster, you pressed on with the interrogation. Vander... Wasn't taken, was he? He'd tell you if he was, right? Where would be his wife and presumed children - would he just tell them to leave the flat until he deals with his booty call? Surely not.

"Well, yannow, I help around the community. A lot of kids out here, a lot of excited painters." "Uh-huh." - The confusion and suspicion in your voice was almost tangible. There was one theory you could test out. - "Could I use the bathroom real quick?" "Suit yourself, doll. The first door on the left. Call out if you need anythin'." "I'll be right back." - Kissing his shoulder to divert his attention a bit, you walked inside the small bathroom - it wasn't anything regal, but it fulfilled its purpose. Turning on the basin to cause distraction, you started searching for proof of feminine presence - make-up, perfume, comb... Anything. The only thing you found, however, was a pink hairband forgotten next to the shower. A girl's hairband, you realized - could he be a widower? That would be fine too, you'd even understand why he hadn't mentioned it until then. Well, in that case, it would be better not to pressure him - he'll tell you on his own.

"Everythin' alright?" - He'd ask as soon as he noticed you lurking around the kitchen. Letting your eyes drown in the sight of a homey, domestic Vander was a heavenly sight. He'd taken off his jacket and worked on cutting some vegetables. "Everything alright. What can I help with?" "The meat." Cooking together was fun. You'd open a bottle of wine, chatting as you prepared the meal - Vander asked about details he hadn't learned yet, and you asked about his past, favorite pastime, and hobbies. As per usual, he'd been an open book, answering everything right away and with honesty - this guy could be married, no way in a million years. When a comfortable silence settled between you, you just wait for the meal to be ready - you've decided to settle on a small, very old kitchen island while waiting for Vander to finish peeling and roasting the potatoes.

"Whatcha grinnin' at, you pretty little thing?" "Just watching the most beautiful man I've met, 's all." "Look at her." - Approaching you, the man was purring with happiness. As he approached the edge of the island, your legs opened themselves to hook around his waist, bringing him closer. - "The accent's catchin' 'n everythin'." "Did to impress the guy I like." "Hope he's handsome and treats you right." "You have no idea." - Holding him in place with your palm, you put the glass down and closed off the distance, kissing him slowly. Passion built up with each little movement - he'd hold you impossibly close, his hands roaming your body freely, even taking the vest you've been wearing. Hip lips traveled from your lips to your neck, kissing a small trail below the collar of your blouse as he worked on the buttons. If you weren't starving, you'd let him undress you right there, on the fucking kitchen island... Ruining the atmosphere, your stomach started growling. The moment was gone in an instant, having you both laugh quietly.

"I'm sorry." - You laughed as he hugged you. This time, you let your hands roam around his broad back and shoulders, scratching it with your fingers. "Nothin' to be sorry 'bout. I promised you dinner and I intend to keep the promise." "You bet. Couldn't wait for what you have in store." "... If you provide the desert, that is." - The tone of his voice mesmerized you, having you ogling at him. Fucking hell, he looked so hot - looking at you with his eyes darkened with lust, his thumb playing with your lower lip. Wiggling your hips around, you could feel what was the reason for this sudden change of mood. His dick was deliciously outlined, almost begging to be pulled out and sucked, hitting the back of your throat. "I can give you a little taste." - With an innocent smile, your palm slowly caressed his lower abdomen, slipping down between his legs. Even the thought of having his dick on your palm made you hot and bothered, let alone imagine him finally fucking you after all this time. Sure, you've had sex before, but you've been this down bad and horny for anyone. Imagining him naked made you shuttered, his warmth made goosebumps rise on your skin - as if he knew what pressure to apply, how to apply it, and for how long... Vander was perfect. Fucking perfect. Just when you brushed the tip, Vander's palm tugged on yours.

"Dinner first, doll." - Pushing himself between your legs, he couldn't resist pulling you for one last kiss. - "You'll have all night for showin' me what a good fuckin' girl you are." "Okay, baby." "Good. I ain't plannin' on lettin' you leave until the mornin'." - With a last kiss on your temple, Vander walked back to the stove to check on the food. It smelled delicious. So much so that your stomach grumbled again.

The dinner was delicious, you had to admit. The man knew his cooking and he wasn't shying away from showing you heaven by overstimulating the everliving shit out of your taste buds. Vander even brought a bottle of wine from Last Drop's exclusive displays to amp it up. Having a man working in gastronomy spoiling you rotten had its benefits, you must admit. The conversation was... Mundane. You'd suspect the rising tension would've made it harder to make small talk. Still, it didn't change much except the hunger behind Vander's eyes - he hadn't seen you or talked to you properly in the last two weeks, of course, he wanted to hear what you've been up to, how locals treated you and if there's anything he can do to help.

You've been the one to do the dishes, despite Vander's protests - he was ordered to sit down and relax for a bit; he'd been on a long shift and cooked for you, no way you wouldn't return the hospitality. Other than fucking him senseless, that was. "Lord almighty." - It was a mere whisper, almost too quiet for you to notice. While drying your hands, you'd turned your head to Vander to send him a smile - his expression made you freeze in one place. His voice was husky as he stared at you, looking you up and down as if he hadn't seen a prettier woman before. His elbow leaned to the back of his chair, his tongue slowly traveling on his lips as he enjoyed the view - your hair let down, blouse half unbuttoned, tar trousers perfectly hugging your curves. Domestic behavior was one of his weaknesses.

The stare sucked the air out of your lungs, the smile disappearing. He'd been staring at you as if he was preparing to devour you alive, like a wolf preparing for the last blow. You've never felt like prey... Not in a good way. Daring to take it a step further, you unbuttoned the vest, letting it slip off your shoulders. The man didn't tear his eyes off you - it was hard to even blink, let alone move. Carefully, your fingers push under the blouse, showing off more and more of your skin. As you teased to show him your breasts, his response was a playful scoff. Turning away from him, you slipped the piece of clothing over your head; the see-through fabric left little to the imagination anyway, but finally looking at the laces of your bra left Vander biting his lip.

"Enjoying the show, big guy?" "You have no idea, doll." "How about you show me, then?" "Seems you're havin' fun on your own, don't lemme slow you down." "Could use a spare pair of hands." "Keep goin' and I'll think 'bout it."

Stripping for someone's enjoyment was new for you, but it was... Fun. You'd suspect you'd feel dumb, maybe silly; seeing how he palmed his hardening dick over his pants while watching each move you made gave you confidence. So much of it, in fact, that you slowly slipped the pants off your hips, your boots following soon after. Vander's eyes were glued to how you palmed your breast, playing with the hems of your panties. "Still want to only watch?" "Do you realize how mesmerizing you look, darlin'?" - With that, your fingers finally slipped under the fabric - your other palm grabbed on the kitchen unit so you could ache your back, letting out a lewd moan. - "Keep goin', doll, show me how you like it."

Fulfilling the wish, your fingers drew delicate circles around you, gathering all the wetness leaking out of you. You hadn't been this wet for anyone before Vander. Soon, you stopped caring if he was even watching you - you started to slip your fingers in and out, playing with yourself just as you enjoyed it. It was when your breathing got heavier and your knees started giving out when he finally walked over to you. Immediately, your forehead found its way to his shoulder, your fingers grabbing his forearm forcefully enough to leave dents. Helping you with getting off, he carefully pushed the tiny lacy panties aside (Vander wanted to keep them intact mainly because he suspected this piece of clothing would bring him on his knees anytime you'd show it to him). His fingers were much thicker than yours, making you moan in sensation as he carefully pushed them inside you, curling them up ever so slightly.

"Keep goin' for me, pretty girl, I wanna hear you moan." "F-fuck, Vander." - As he requested, so you provided, panting heavily between meowls and lewd moans leaving your mouth. - "You can add one more and go faster, please." While doing as you asked, he also slipped one of the straps off your shoulder, letting your breast bounce out of the bra. Carefully nibbling on your nipple, he'd pushed his knee between your legs to support you. With each second, your moves started becoming erratic as you ground against his hand, trying to match his palm's thrusts. "Shit, I think... I'm about to..." - Throwing your head backward, his lips found yours in a rough, passionate kiss. "Let go for me, c'mon, good girl." - His husky voice in your ears defused the bomb building inside your abdomen, letting you sink into his fingers in one last stretch. The orgasm felt surreal - his smell intoxicated your brain, your ears started ringing from the blood rushing inside your veins and your mouth produced the most erotic sounds it ever has.

"Holy shit, that was nice." - You admitted, gripping his shirt to lower him down for a proper kiss. "I want to hear this more often, sweetheart." - Vander chuckled, licking his fingers clean while staring you in the eyes. This view had you biting on your lip, kissing him once more just to feel his and your tastes mixed. This alone made you smirk. - "Can't believe how lucky I am to have you here. I imagined this so many times..." "Let me take care of you, big guy." - Leaving all the clothes in a discarded mess on the kitchen floor, your palm tugged on his palm to lead him inside the bedroom.

It was a bit messy, surely seen better days, but it felt very homey - his bed was unmade, clothes that he discarded in a rush were thrown over the chair and a collection of various books and papers gathered on the table. You could notice various framed pictures hanging on the wall but didn't go as far as to check them out. The bed seemed sturdy, excessive wooden frame resting at the mint green wall. You liked it. Even before you asked the first question, his lips crushed to yours, forcing you to back until your knees hit the edge of the mattress. While his hands started pulling his t-shirt off his body, you didn't waste any time unbuckling his belt, your lips kissing a wet trail on the skin he uncovered for you.

He'd been in better shape than you imagined - Vander wasn't the type to have his muscles flexing or rocking a six-pack, but he was slender with just the right amount of chubbiness sprinkled on top of it. Dad bod in its finest form, that's how Ezreal described it to you. You loved the curly hair on his chest; it wasn't too dense, just enough to look ridiculously hot. His happy trail below the belly button was very tasteful, making you moan breathily. Your fingers started to shake as you finally pushed his trousers down, putting your palms on his hips and taking a moment to simply adore him.

Vander was the most beautiful man you came across, there was doubt in your mind - you loved his fucking body. His palms were much larger in comparison to yours, also filled with small calluses due to his occupation, but the rest of his skin was smooth and warm. His stature was a sight to behold - broad shoulders, wide chest, and waist that simply begged to be puzzled between your thighs. Just by looking at the outline of his dick, you knew it was going to be a nice ride - its length was perfect for you, the only thing you were worrying about was how thick it appeared to be. "What's the frown for, doll?" - His voice broke you out of your thoughts, his thumb playing with your lower lip. "Never had someone so wide." - Your words made your pussy contract delightfully, already aching to feel him filling you to the brim. "I'm a handy guy, doll, I'm sure you can take it if I help you. But you gave me a promise, remember?" "Desert?" "Lay down for me, sweetheart, c'mon." - With a quick, skillful move, the bra slid off your shoulders, leaving you fully naked. And yet, you've never felt sexier as you laid down, letting him prop your back up with a pillow while getting on his knees. - "Look at the view, doll." -Vander murmured, pecking both your inner thighs. His smirk was screaming danger, but so fucking good-looking. You've been so aroused that the surrounding air felt cold on your core. - "Must be nicest I had in years. You're even wetter than before doll, God." - With a murmur, he'd kiss the sweet spot right above your clit, sliding his nose through your folds tantalizingly slow. - "You smell and taste so fucking good."

Then, he dived right in, taking you in his mouth with careful, slow, and precise movements - his tongue copied lazy circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves, and his palms and shoulders kept your legs spread wide open, no matter how many times you tried pushing them together. It could be felt he's skilled in eating out - even though he couldn't know what you liked, he started slow and looked at how you reacted, being perceptive enough to repeat the movements you seemed to enjoy and avoid those that made you frown. It didn't take him long to make you a whimpering, whiney mess - especially after his mouth dipped down to catch every bit of your arousal, licking you clean - his watery eyes were piercing through yours, watching as your breasts moved with each breath you took. When he pushed two fingers in once more, a long and needy moan filled his bedroom. That was when you broke off the eye contact and draped the sheets, concentrating on the heat slowly building in your abdomen, your toes curling against your will. His tempo was slow, playful... Vander was definitely taking his time with you.

"'s this what you imagined, doll? Havin' me on my knees, goin' insane over how you taste and sound?" - The man murmured into the skin on your thigh, sending light vibrations through your pussy as he chuckled upon listening to how you desperately tried putting a sensical sentence together. You failed miserably. As you stumbled on your words, his fingers sped up until you squirmed with pleasure, tightening the grip around his shoulders. - "With I could stay here forever, eatin' this pretty little cunt 'til my name's the only thing you remember. Such a pretty fuckin' little girl." "Vander, please, I need you." - With all the will remaining inside you, you managed to pick yourself up on your elbows, tugging on his hair. - "Please, baby, I need you so fucking much. Your tongue on me, your dick balls deep inside me, whatever you'd like... Just don't fucking stop." "Never, doll." - His mouth assaulted your sex with precision, devouring you like there was no tomorrow, even pushing his face further into you while his fingers worked wonders inside you. Your fingers tangled inside his hair, ensuring he wouldn't move an inch. The movements of his tongue became brutal the more your pelvis rode his face as you started chasing your release. He mumbled something, but you never got to know what it was - the vibrations were enough to send you over the edge, making your body tense up and thighs squeeze his head impossibly close to your clit as he continued sucking on it, riding you out of your high.

When your legs spread again, he gasped for air with a large smile, his beard glistening with your arousal. Fuck. Having him marked like that was turning you on. His fingers inside you didn't stop moving yet, enjoying the way your walls squeezed them. He enjoyed how you squirmed each time his thumb gently caressed your oversensitive bundle of nerves. "All good, doll?" "No one had... Jesus, hmpf... How... How are you so good at this?" "Just wanna see my girl happy, 's all. Love seein' your face like this." - Still working wonders between your legs, Vander picked himself off the floor to kiss you. Gently, he pressed in another finger, stretching you even more. But by Gods, it felt so good. - "We're there, baby girl."

Not breaking the kiss, his fingers slipped out of your slit, helping you to climb higher on the bed. Once again, you propped your pelvis up with a pillow, sinking your head into another. Vander caressed your cheek and kissed you before teasingly running his dick through your folds - you were still slippery enough thanks to the mix of his saliva and your arousal, so there wasn't a need for lubricating. His precum leaking out of the tip of his cock made it simpler. Still kissing you, he started teasing you cradling his pelvis back and forth with his dick aligned with your entrance, as if it was to slip any moment now; his other arm propped on the bedframe. "Ready, doll?" "Whenever you are." "Attagirl."

As soon as the tip of his cock slipped inside you, a hurtful hiss crossed your lips - his mouth was instantaneously back on yours, kissing you gently, the palm which was guiding his cock minutes later entangled with yours. Even though Vander did his best to loosen you up, he was still wide. The width made you gasp for air between kisses, each inch filling you like anything before. It didn't hurt, it was just a bit uncomfortable until you got used to the sensation. Your eyes sliding across his face and mouth wide open, you started enjoying the feeling of fullness, especially seeing the ecstatic, awed expression on his face. "Almost there, doll, almost there. You're takin' it so good." "It feels so good, baby. I love feelin' your dick inside me." - As you traced your fingers on his face, you could feel him throbbing upon your words. The sensation made you move against his body, letting the rest of the dick slip inside in one swift motion. - "Holy shit, fuck, fuck, fuck." "You look so fuckin' mesmerizing, takin' my dick like that." - His pelvis started moving carefully, sloppily slipping in and out of you. The sounds were so erotic, so perfect, turning you on even more.

When you felt like you could take it, you started to meet his thrusts halfway, making you both groan in pleasure. Your knees circle around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you - as he did his best to make love to you, his thrusts were playful, slow, and careful, making sure you're getting the most out of it. Vander was also making sure you'll be ready for when he'll start mercilessly fucking you like there's no tomorrow. "Mhmh, you feel so fucking good, Vander." "Love it when you say my name like this." "Vander..." - You moaned, feeling as his pace started picking up, his thrusts becoming more precise. - "God, Vander, Vander, Vander." "You'll be the death of me, fuck."

Before you grasped it, the headboard started banging into the wall as the bed creaked under the brutal tempo Vander had set - you didn't attempt to shush your screams and moans as you dragged your nails down his back, aching your back until your breasts met his chest. Both of you were sweaty and aching in the best way possible, sloppily kissing anytime you could. "I won't last for much longer, doll." - His voice was hoarse as he stared at your tits bouncing around, every semblance of sense erased from his mind. All Vander knew was how perfect you felt tightening around him, that this pussy must've been hand-made for him and him only, and that your moans were the most musical sounds he'd heard until that day. "Cum for me, big guy." "Where... Shit." - Vander sat up, putting his forearm under your back to keep you in position. This new sensation made you squirm, digging your nails deep into his forearm. He'd been even wider from this angle, filling you up better than before. - "Where do you want me, doll?" "Anywhere you want, Vander."

This was Vander's last stretch. His name falling off your lips in such a lewd manner fried his circuits, having him bury his dick deep inside you with one last thrust. Out of breath, Vander collapsed on your chest, listening to your fast heartbeat. Your fingers started playing with his hair and caressing his sweaty back, feeling the warmth spreading deep within you. Everything felt perfect. "You know how you said... You loved me?" "... Also said you don't have to say it back, Vander." "What if I'd like to, doll?" "... Then I'd be the happiest girl in the Lanes." "I love you." - The man murmured, picking his head up to look you in your eyes. The words made you smile widely as you held his pace in your arms, giggling. His softening member was still inside you, but neither of you seemed to be in the rush to pull it out.

"That's the fucking talking, big guy." "It ain't, on my honor. You're the best girl I've ever met. If you won't mind, I'd love to make you mine." "Then repeat it..." "I love you, doll." "Again." "I love you." "... One more time." "I love you, Y/N." "I love you too, Vander." - Cracking a smile, you let the man kiss you, losing yourself in his warm bear hug and embrace. Moments after, he finally picked himself up, walking to the bathroom to bring you a warm towel. Letting you clean yourself up, he disappeared into the kitchen to make you tea and pick up all your clothes scattered over the floor.

The night, just as he promised, was endless - he'd taken you from more positions, caressing your body with the utmost care, as if you were a goddess he wished to worship. You did your best to project his behavior, but you've been too lost in it all - his lips, warm skin, arms wrapped around each time part of your body, his groans in your ear, his beard scratching your lips anytime you kissed... It was around seven in the morning when you finally picked yourself up, pushing his shirt over your head. "Want something from the kitchen, big guy?" "All I want is you back as soon as you can." "Bet your ass..." - Before you could finish the joke, someone barged into the room, making you scream in surprise. You were moaning Vander's name just a few minutes back - who the fuck was this?

Looking at the incoming person, you've known the girl. You've already seen her serving in Vander's - the same violet hair, deadpan on her face as she looked at Vander covering himself with his sheets. "What the..." - You asked, looking at her. The girl, seemingly, ignored you. "... She did it again. I need your help, old man." "What? Who did what? Who are you? Vander?" - You asked with confusion, looking from Vander to the girl and back. "Oh, hi." - Suddenly, the trouble was forgotten as she leaned her shoulder into the doorframe, smiling at you cockily. - "Fancy seeing you here. Looking good." "Hi?" "What did Powder do this time?" - Vander sighed, bringing Vi's attention back to him. To hide the embarrassment, Vander massaged his face with a long sigh.

"We wanted to prepare some breakfast for you guys, so naturally, the stove's on fire." - The girl explained, but didn't seem to be in a rush to stop the ongoing apocalypse in the kitchen - now that you concentrated on it, you could hear distressed squeals and multiple people arguing, pans clinking on the metal - you could also see the smoke rolling out of the kitchen. The flat smelled hellish, making your eyes swell in tears from the subtle itching. "Cover the pan with a pot lid - it'll put out the flames. I'll be right over." "Hope you'll swing by too. Powder can't wait to meet you." - The girl picked herself off the doorframe, winking at you before closing the door.

"What the fuck was that?" - You asked, looking at Vander with disbelief. Who was she? Was she his daughter? Who are the other kids? You had your suspicions, yes, but this freaked you out more than you expected. You expected one, two kids at best - according to the ruckus, there were more people than that, though. "Listen, if you want to leave now, doll, I understand... I..." "Are these your kids?" "Sorta?" "Sort of? How can you 'sort of' have kids? "Adopted 'em little nuisances after the riots last year. None of 'em had a home to go back to - felt responsible for 'em. Listen, as I said, no one's holdin' you here. You must be furious..." "Fucking confused is what I am. Why didn't you tell me earlier?" "Wasn't confident 'nough if I'll even be what ya want without knowing I have four kids on my back." The vulnerable expression on his face made you soften up. Four kids was a lot, yes - his actions, however, were honorable. Where would they end up if Vander didn't step up, giving them a home and a loving fatherly embrace? The longer you stared at Vander, the more motivated you were to step out of the door confidently, sharing this awkward morning with all five of them, and taking everything it could give you. You... Wanted to meet them. You wished to know every possible side of Vander and share all the good and the bad with him. You wanted everything he was offering - whether it was holding your hand, kissing you during his shifts in the pub, all the mindblowing sex, warmth in his eyes as he whispered 'I love you', his fingers tracing your skin as you laid opposite each other and talked between fucking, his warmth, his love... You wanted it all. And if he had kids, that was a part of this little everything you wanted so bad, no matter how worried it made you.

"Was this the reason why you freaked out so bad?" "Ain't it obvious, Y/N? I'm almost forty, with a pub and four kids on my neck. Someone as young shouldn't worry about whether they have 'nough to eat, clothes to wear, 'bout what trouble they got themselves into this time... This ain't a life for such a young little thing." "But it's your life. And I want you..." "That's precisely why you shouldn't be wantin' me, doll. C'mon." "Stop making my decisions for me, Vander. Did you plan on telling me about the kids?" "Not for a bit... I was worried it would drive you away. I'm a selfish bastard, haven't you noticed?" "Fucking far from it. The least you could do was to tell me about them. It would make things less embarrassing." "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you told me ahead of time, we could have our little rendezvous at my place - do you realize how awkward this is for me? For them also, I'm sure." "I'm sorry, Y/N... I didn't know how to bring it up..." "We better get going before Powder blows the kitchen up." "... You ain't gonna leave?" "Of course not. These kids are a part of your life, so I want to get to know them. Step by step. If let me stick around, I can be a good step-mum to them one day, maybe." "Are you serious?" - Vander asked, staring at you with his lips parted. "Dead serious." "I... Fucking love you, Y/N." "Right back at you, handsome. Move your ass before someone barges in to drag us into the kitchen."

___ Author's note: So, regarding Ezreal... I didn't want him to come across as a sappy romantic who's in love with the reader - he's more of a naïve playboy in my mind, constantly falling in love with whoever's in front of him, seeing different people every week. Ez definitely got the charm and rizz to pull something like that off. On the other hand, I think it could be a platonic love situation - they're both into each other (to one degree or another) - the reader doesn't date him, however, because she has standards, and Ezreal, as he admitted, would rather die than seeing someone like himself fooling around with her.

[gluion]

the perfect pair ➵ masterlist

esports player!kim sunwoo x esports player!reader

being a woman in the esports league is hard, but dealing with cocky kim sunwoo is unmatched. with the valorant champions tour about to commence, you two are forced to team up to retrieve the trophy. what will be tested—team morale or your patience around sunwoo?

general genre/warnings ➵ enemies to lovers, afab reader (they/them pronouns), slow burn, slight angst, crack, fake relationships (you two pretend to be friends) sexual tension, smut aka porn with plot (just know sunwoo whines), esports team au specifically during valorant champions tour, misogynistic & sexist remarks and behaviors, drinking, pet names, bets are made, a lot of gamer lingo, one bed trope™, also probably wrong format and flow of vct but who gaf!

word count ➵ currently 10.5k words, expected to be 20-40k (sorry i cant help it + vct is pretty long)

playlist ➵ yuck by charli xcx // stop talking by day6 // constant repeat by charli xcx // happier than ever by billie eilish // take a hint by victoria justice & elizabeth gillies // jealous by nick jonas // useless by omar apollo // somebody else by the 1975 // and july by dean fy. heize // talk by beabadoobee // teeth by 5sos // motive by ariana grande ft. doja cat // i wanna be your slave by måneskin // cologne by beabadoobee // a little death by the neighbourhood // the perfect pair by beabadoobee // babydoll by dominic fike // bet u wanna by sabrina carpenter// not in the same way by 5sos // just friends by keshi // sugar by men i trust // disaster by conan grey // shouldn’t couldn’t wouldn’t by niki // it’s you by zayn // die for you by the weeknd ft. ariana grande // flash forward by le sserafim // plot twist by niki

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu @tbzhub @stealanity @wooluv09 @deobi0412 @untilsunset @hiefisch @blue-rainydays @maessseongs @wonuroyal @sunkitti

a/n ➵ i made this masterlist post because i dont think tumblr will be able to handle all the parts i need to pump out :’) my headcanon of sunwoo being a shit gamer will forever live, but i’ll make an exception for this story <3 major shoutout to @shegotthewoobies for guiding me throughout the process <3 lots of love always to my val duo for life! do reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

guides

➵ the guide: “welcome to valorant.”

your official guide to “the perfect pair” universe, from gaming lingo all the way to vct timeline

➵ the players: “wáchale güey, my crew is coming through.”

your official guide to the main characters of “the perfect pair” universe

official parts

➵ one: “ew, is that sunwoo over there? 저리 꺼져.”

being a woman in the esports league is hard, but dealing with cocky kim sunwoo is unmatched. with the valorant champions tour about to commence, you two are forced to team up to retrieve the trophy. what will be tested—team morale or your patience around sunwoo?

➵ two: “okay kids, we’ve got company. pretend you all get along.”

➵ three: “sunwoo, we are the perfect pair.”

extras/drabbles

number and names of chapters are subject to change!

[krispycreamcake]

sakamaki with a latin gf!!! pleasee

From author: I fucking love poc asks so much. Also to make this just a tiny bit easier on myself since I have writer's block rn, I'll just do something a bit short today

Sakamaki's with a Latin gf

Shu Sakamami

🎻- Slightly intrigued by the culture

🎻- Would honestly ask a couple questions if he was up to listening to you rant about your customs

🎻- Honestly likes the music you play sometimes (he has a playlist of Celia Cruz but shh)

🎻- Also yes yes before you shoot me, I know he likes classical but he seems like the type of guy who could appreciate the way how salsa music incorporates different instruments to have a specific kick to the genre

🎻- Once you told him about paella and now he asks you to make it for him almost all the time

🎻- Terrified of meeting your family and avoids it at all costs but tries to pretend it doesn't bother him

Reiji Sakamaki

☕️- Extremely educated on Latin culture

☕️- Asks you for local book recommendations

☕️- Genuinely wants your opinion on Japanese culture and how much of a difference it is compared to your own

☕️- Like Shu, he enjoys the music and if he had to pick he'd say Los Tres Diamantes was his favourite band from that genre

☕️- Invested in learning Spanish and takes pride in tackling another language alongside German

☕️- Since Latino culture is extremely diverse, he'd ask you about your OWN personal experience a lot of the times

Ayato Sakamaki

🏀- "Of course the great ore-sama could obviously get any girl he wants from around the world!"

🏀- Cocky asshole

🏀- See it's one thing being able to charm those around you that you share similarities with, but it takes something special to make someone completely different than yourself fall in love with you

🏀- And Ayato knows this, takes pride in it even

🏀- Hmm when it comes to how interested he is about the culture I'd give it 5/10

🏀- He cares about you more than all those fancy songs and food, but that is YOUR culture, so by extension he kinda has to care even if it's just a little bit

🏀- Asks you to speak Spanish and if you can't, he'll make fun of you for it and tease you by telling you to go learn a thing or two from Reiji

Laito

🃏- Lorddddddd

🃏- LORDDDDDD

🃏- Well before I start, let me just say that he's also educated on the culture just maybe not as much as Reiji, so anything he does is a means to tease you by playing coy and outright stupid

🃏- Just also would like to add, if you're from Brazil and happen to have a curvy body, he WILL comment on that

🃏- If you have a flatter body type, he'll tease (annoy) you by asking how come you don't have more uh curves in certain areas because that's supposed to be what you're "known for"

🃏- Trust me, he's only saying this to get a reaction, he loves you in his own weird fucked up way

🃏- But expect a lot of comments like that and at some point you'll probably need to tell him off

🃏- Midnight salsa dancing because well, do you honestly expect anything else from him?

🃏- One of his favourite things to do is watch those cliche over dramatic Spanish dramas and eats it up every single time there turns out to be a twin brother

Kanato Sakamaki

🧸- Like Ayato, doesn't care that much about the culture, rather his main focus is on you

🧸- Probably likes to hear you tell scary folklore stories from wherever you're from

🧸- And on that note, he already knows about La Lloronoa and Sihuanaba

🧸- Makes Teddy™ cover his ears when you get to the scary parts

🧸- Comments on how he'd still love you as a vengeful ghost and might even prefer it that way

🧸- Like Laito, he has this preconceived notion that you're meant to be curvy but doesn't care if you aren't

🧸- Besides if he only liked you for your body, he'd kill you and preserve you somewhere, hiding you away from the rest of the world where only he could see you. But he'd never do that riiiiiiight?

Subaru Sakamaki

🥀- Learns how to salsa when no one is around so he could impress you one day

🥀- Like Laito, he also watches those cliche Spanish soap operas but pretends he doesn't like them and think they're overrated (He's on the second season of Monarca)

🥀- Secretly interested in the culture and would ask Reiji for some books so he could learn more

🥀- Doesn't want to seem dumb in front of you but also doesn't want make a fool of himself by saying words he doesn't understand or asking dumb questions

🥀- If you speak Portuguese or Spanish, likes hearing you talk in your native tongue

🥀- Out of all the brothers, he'd be the one to treat you the most "normally" by not pestering you with questions or flaunting you off like a trophy he just won

🥀- You try to teach him your native language so you could both shit talk his brothers right in front their faces

From Author: It has been so long since I opened this app omfg but I've been busy with a lot of irl things so now I should have a bit more time to produce more content yay (I'm this close to jumping off a bridge with how dead the fandom is rn)

[mintyys-blog]

avengers x reader: Mission: Annoy the Avengers

WARNINGS: none

part one: we gotta stop meeting like this

You were not a threat. Not really. You didn’t have superpowers, a metal suit, or even decent combat skills. But what you did have was an unrelenting commitment to chaos—and that made you the Avengers’ biggest problem.

It had started small. Replacing Steve’s coffee with decaf coffee. Moving Thor’s hammer an inch to the left just to watch him panic. Changing Bucky’s Spotify playlist to Mamma Mia! and watching as he suffered an existential crisis while “Dancing Queen” played during his workout.

But today? Today was special. Today, you were going all out.

You casually strolled into the Avengers’ common room, coffee in hand, looking suspiciously innocent.

Natasha eyed you from the couch. “What did you do?”

You gasped. “Nat, I’m offended. I don’t always do something.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Last time you said that, you hacked FRIDAY to only respond to Tony in AutoTune.”

“Yeah, and we all grew as people because of it,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee.

The room remained quiet, but then—

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Tony’s voice echoed from his lab.

Right on cue.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “What did you do to him?”

“I simply changed his password.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

You grinned. “It now requires a 45-minute-long dramatic monologue about how great Steve is before granting access.”

Steve, who had just walked in, blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah. And he has to mean it, or the system locks him out for another hour.”

From the lab, there was a loud crash and Tony’s frustrated yell of: “I’M GONNA KILL THEM.”

Steve slowly turned to you. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“I live for the thrill.”

Bucky entered the kitchen, opening the fridge for his milk carton—only to find it labeled “Property of The Winter Soldier. Will Cry If Taken.”

He froze. Looked at you. Looked back at the milk.

“This isn’t mine.”

“It is now.”

“…I don’t like this.”

You leaned in. “But does that mean you won’t drink it?”

Bucky hesitated. Then, cautiously, he poured himself a glass.

“Good boy,” you whispered ominously. “You’re learning.”

Your final act of the day required precision. Timing. Sheer dedication.

Peter Parker had recently gotten a new suit, and you had—somehow—managed to hack into its voice commands.

So, when he swung into the tower, the suit suddenly announced in a robotic voice:

“ACTIVATING BABY MODE.”

Peter screamed as the suit’s limbs went stiff, then curled into a protective ball, gently lowering him to the ground like a burrito-wrapped infant.

He flailed helplessly. “WHAT IS HAPPENING?!”

You sipped your coffee, watching the chaos unfold. “Huh. Technology is amazing.”

It was inevitable.

The Avengers cornered you in the common room, glaring. Steve had his arms crossed. Tony looked like he hadn’t known peace in years. Peter was still stuck in Baby Mode.

You grinned. “Hey, guys.”

Tony pointed at you. “We’re banning you from the Tower.”

“No, you’re not.”

Steve sighed. “No, we’re not.”

You leaned back in your chair, victorious. “See you all tomorrow.”

You were a menace. A delightful, unrelenting, absolutely unstoppable menace.

And, despite all their efforts, the Avengers simply could not get rid of you.

After yesterday’s chaos, they had tried. Tony had disabled your Tower access. Natasha had installed new security measures. Steve had given you The Disappointed Dad Look™.

None of it worked.

Because here you were. Sitting on their couch. Eating Tony’s expensive imported snacks.

Natasha walked in, took one look at you, and sighed. “How did you even get in?”

“I never left,” you said, shoving another handful of truffle-infused popcorn into your mouth.

“Impossible,” she deadpanned.

You gestured vaguely. “Ever heard of hiding in the vents?”

Natasha looked genuinely disturbed. “You’ve been in the vents this whole time?”

You winked.

She left the room.

Steve walked into the common room, stretching after his morning jog. He looked peaceful. Serene.

He should not have looked peaceful.

Because the moment he sat down, it began.

“Alexa,” you said loudly, “play ‘America’ by Imagine Dragons at full volume.”

The hidden speakers blasted the song.

Steve’s eye twitched.

“Alexa,” he tried, “stop.”

“I’M AN AMERICAN AUTHOR!” the speakers continued, incorrectly attributing the song to the wrong band.

You snickered. “I changed the voice activation to only recognize requests in a 1940s Brooklyn accent.”

Steve turned to glare at you. “I don’t even—”

Alexa interrupted. “I’M AN AMERICAN AUTHOR—”

Steve looked like he aged five years in five seconds.

Bucky, who had just walked in, immediately turned around and left.

Thor was an easy target. He was too trusting. Too pure. Too easy to mess with.

Which is why, for three days straight, you had been subtly moving Mjolnir around the Tower, just enough to make him doubt reality.

Yesterday, it was on the kitchen counter. This morning, it was balanced on top of the fridge.

Now? Now it was in the bathtub.

Thor stood frozen, staring down at his hammer resting comfortably in a pile of bubbles.

“…Brother?” he whispered, looking around.

Loki, who had nothing to do with this, simply raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Thor pointed dramatically. “You move Mjolnir while I sleep!”

Loki scoffed. “If I could move your glorified paperweight, you’d be dead by now.”

Thor turned back to the hammer, looking genuinely distressed.

You watched from the doorway, sipping your coffee. This was the greatest thing you’d ever done.

Tony was on edge.

You could tell. He hadn’t spoken in five whole minutes, and that was concerning.

Because, unknown to him, you had activated a slow-burn prank.

And now—at this very moment—it was unfolding.

“FRIDAY,” Tony called, rubbing his temples, “give me my schedule.”

FRIDAY’s voice responded—but instead of her usual smooth tone, it was a dramatic movie trailer voice.

“IN A WORLD… WHERE A MAN NAMED TONY STARK HAS MEETINGS HE DOESN’T WANT TO ATTEND…”

Tony froze.

“…What?”

FRIDAY continued.

“COMING SOON… TO A BOARDROOM NEAR YOU… A THREE-HOUR FINANCIAL REVIEW THAT WILL TEST HIS VERY SOUL…”

Tony turned slowly to glare at you. “What did you do.”

You grinned. “Gave FRIDAY a little personality.”

FRIDAY wasn’t done.

“WILL HE SURVIVE… OR WILL HE PERISH… IN A SEA OF SPREADSHEETS?”

Tony was losing it.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

He inhaled deeply. “I’m kicking you out.”

“No, you’re not.”

“…No, I’m not.”

You leaned back on the couch, victorious.

Desperate, truly desperate, the Avengers held a team meeting.

Steve stood at the front, arms crossed. “We need a plan.”

Natasha, arms also crossed, nodded. “We can’t keep living like this.”

“She is chaos,” Thor added solemnly.

Tony looked exhausted. “I ran every security measure possible, and she still shows up.”

Peter, still traumatized from his last encounter with you, whispered, “She changed my suit’s voice to sound like a 1920s newsboy. I can’t stop saying ‘EXTRA! EXTRA!’”

Sam sighed. “Let’s face it. We can’t win.”

They all turned to look at you.

You were already in the room.

Eating Tony’s popcorn.

“Sup,” you said.

They collectively groaned.

Mission Accomplished.

[here4hualian]

We're collecting hualian songs to create the Ultimate Hualian Playlist ™ ❤️ 🎶 🤍

And we need your suggestions 🫵 💕

Here's how:

You can either: head to our Twitter account and use the #hualianplaylist2024 hashtag and see what others have suggested - the playlist will be shared later so make sure you stick around!

OR

Since our HuaLian Song Collecting event is drawing to its end on Twitter, now we'd like to take the opportunity to share this anonymous link where you can add your hualian-centric song to our "Press Shuffle – a HuaLian Playlist", too.

The purpose of our event is to reach those hualian enjoyers who would hesitate to participate in events otherwise, but listen to music and thought at least once "wow, this song reminds me of hualian" - so anyone can take part and rejoice over hualian songs!

As for fandom creators: you can share the music you've been listening to while drawing, painting, writing fic and making edits or anything that made you get into a hualian mood.

We prepared a Q & A for you:

Hope we will be listening to the same music soon! 🦋❤️🎶🤍🌸

[thebat-musicman]

The Playlist™

My 12 hour Batfam playlist (with repeating songs!)

The repeating version has 200 songs and is 12 hours. Non repeating has 167 songs and is 9 hours and 54 minutes.

I am so sorry to whatever poor souls are reading this just trying to find good songs for their faves

@batfambrainrotbeloved it’s done

The bat-playlist from hell is under the cut

Alfred

Be our guest

Let it be

Sweet caroline

You are my sunshine

God is really real

Istanbul (not Constantinople)

50 ways to say goodbye (him faking Bruce’s death when he went training)

What was I made for

No time to die

James Bond theme

I got you

Child of Mine

Little Lion man

You’ll be in my heart

Never grow up

Edelweiss

Baby mine

Friend like me

My heart will go on

Bruce

Never grow up

Everything has changed

I hate it here

I look in people’s windows

imgonnagetyouback

Karma (AJR)

Humpty Dumpty

Inertia

Two birds

Cat’s in the cradle

Song for Orphans

Tears in heaven

Heart of stone

Robin

Whatever it takes

ocean eyes

Migraine

I’ll make a man out of you

Under the Sea

Beautiful Boy (darling boy)

Babs

The story of us

Just a girl

Clara Bow

Role Models

Break my face

The DJ is crying for help

Little miss perfect

She used to be mine

Mastermind

Pretty distraction

So high school

How did it end

Fight song

You should see me in a crown

The man

Runs the world (girls)

I bet you think about me

Inertia

Ours

Part of your world

Dick

I can do it with a broken heart

Touchy feely fool

Never grow up

The Bolter

Surface Pressure

You’re on your own, kid

Because of you

Karma (AJR)

Way less sad

Perfect (simple plan)

Father of mine

This is me trying

Count on me

The Greatest Show

No way

Mr. Perfectly fine

Dancing Queen

Show and Tell

How far I’ll go

Used to be young

Cass

Who’s afraid of little old me

Cassandra

The Albatross

Father of mine

You’re on your own, kid

Heart of stone

Fight song

Everybody wants to rule the world

She used to be mine

Family Line

Because of you

Roar

You should see me in a crown

I won’t

When will my life begin

The prophecy

I hate it here

Speechless

I’ve got a dream

Blackbird

Jason

The Prophecy

Mr. Perfectly fine

Better than Revenge

I did something bad

My tears ricochet

Vigilante shit

You’re gonna go far, kid

Time of dying

Deja vu

good 4 u

Because of you

Father of mine

These boots were made for walking

Fuck you

One way or another

Bang! Pow! Boom!

Be prepared

One jump ahead

Vampire

I think I’m gonna like it here (baby jason needs a song)

Steph

Record Player

Turning out Pt. II

The Dumb Song

Just a girl

Cardigan

The Man

But daddy I love him

the manuscript

Guilty as Sin?

Father of mine

Dead!

Teenagers

You’re on your own, kid

Mr. Perfectly Fine

High school sweethearts

Drama Club

My Play

Devil Town

This is love (air traffic controller)

I won’t say (I’m in love)

Tim

Ur gonna wish u believed me

Yes I’m a mess

Karma (AJR)

Mastermind

Don’t blame me

Fool

Wow, I’m not crazy

Humpty Dumpty

Good 4 u

Pretender (Acoustic)

Mister Cellophane

Come hang out

Let the games begin

Heart of stone

brutal

Deja vu

Every breath you take

The sound of silence

Go the distance

Viva La Vida

Duke

Here comes the sun

Walking on sunshine

I see the light

How do I say goodbye

The Prophecy

Turning out

Sunshine lollipops and rainbows

Teenagers

Our song

Demons

I’m still standing

Waiting on a miracle

I’m not famous

Paper rings

We didn’t start the fire

Everybody dies

What was I made for

I’ll follow the sun

Sunflower

Into the Unknown

Damian

Insane

Oh no!

Surface Pressure

Control

The good part

Role models

Mother knows best

Bad guy

What else can I do

Devil Town

Bones

Rät

Maniac

Losing my religion

(Don’t fear) The Reaper

Heathens

Pumped up kicks

Go the distance

A whole new world

I just can’t wait to be king