#but a happy ending :) thriving boy
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agentwashingcat · 1 year ago
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lmao y'all should have known asking Neil Gaiman for a Crowley and Aziraphale kiss was like asking a monkeys paw
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priffi · 10 months ago
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that one didn't mean anything it literally didn't wdym it meant nothing it was all fake all fake that was nothing nothing happened huh. anyways bad news again
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thedreadvampy · 2 years ago
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Otis started eating again last week so that's a relief! Gonna take him back up to 2 mice next week and the week after so he's well fed when we go away ❤️
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satoi · 2 years ago
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YUUTA MAKES ME SO SAD BC HE LOVES BEING AN IDOL SO MUCH BC OF RYUUJI REACHING OUT IN THE START WHILE HES DEALING WITH THE SHIT THAT HE CAN NEVER MOVE FORWARDS
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loveinsomesacredplace · 8 months ago
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Is it true? Are people coming around to the fact that Show Belly is a different character from Book Belly? Has critical thinking finally entered the chat? *gasps in transformative fandom/show canon enthusiast*
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misswynters · 4 days ago
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𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞
featuring. Ekko x fem!reader
wc. 15.5k
synopsis. Born from house Arvino, one of the richest and influential families of piltover. You had it all from luxurious gifts, fancy meals, a magnificent bedroom and much more. You’re parents gave you everything you asked for. However still never satisfied you. You’re mind always looked at the injustice and suffering zaun was going through. That’s when you first met ekko, the firelights’ leader. Not very happy to have a pilty messing stuff up.
trope. “enemies to lovers”
warnings. slow burn, cursing, blood, kissing 0-0, suggestive
requested. by anon
a/n. slight spoilers for arcane s2, it’s more like enemies to friends to lovers (sorry) if there’s mistakes you don’t see it! aka not proofread (read it thrice) also there’s no war in this :)
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Above, the shimmering towers stood tall, their wealth and power casting long shadows. Below, Zaun suffocated in its neon haze, its people forgotten in the depths of the city’s ambition. Whereas the glow of Piltover’s lights filled the skyline. From the balcony of your family estate, the stark contrast between Piltover and Zaun was undeniable.
“You think your actions are noble, but you’re a fool,” your father’s voice thundered from the dining room. His words, sharp and unyielding, echoed through the halls as you stood silently by the doorway. “Consorting with the undercity rabble is not only dangerous, it’s treacherous.”
“They’re not rabble. They’re people,” you countered, stepping forward with clenched fists. “You act like Zaun doesn’t exist, but they’re suffering because of Piltover’s greed.”
“You don’t understand the world you live in,” your mother added, her tone softer but no less cutting. “House Arvino holds power because we uphold order. Piltover thrives because of people like us. You risk everything with your reckless defiance.”
Frustration boiled within you. “Piltover thrives at the expense of Zaun. Those people deserve better.”
Your father slammed his fist onto the table. “Enough! You are an Arvino, and you will act like one. This rebellion of yours ends now.”
His command hung in the air, suffocating and absolute. You didn’t argue further. Instead, you turned on your heel and left, the weight of their disapproval bearing down on you. You wouldn’t stop. You couldn’t.
Zaun had become a second home to you, even if it was a dangerous one. It was there, in the grimy depths of the undercity, that you had met Ekko. The boy with paint-streaked cheeks and a fire in his eyes had been as wary of you as you had been of him. Unfortunately, you had been too blinded by your own self-righteousness to notice the fire in his eyes. You thought your mission was noble, an act of goodwill to deliver medical supplies to Zaun’s struggling districts. Your family, House Arvino, had always prided itself on maintaining a veneer of philanthropy, even when their true motivations were rooted in politics. You had accompanied a group of Piltover enforcers on the trip, believing your presence would emphasize the importance of the task. You were wrong.
The moment you stepped into the heart of Zaun, the air itself seemed hostile. The tension was palpable, the sharp smell of chemical fumes mixing with the weight of countless wary stares from Zaunites who lined the streets. Your voice was soft and unsure as you addressed the gathered crowd, holding out your hands to show the crates of supplies. You thought you were doing something good, offering some small relief to people who had been forgotten.
But the enforcers who were armed and stoic, turned the scene into something far more sinister. They barked orders at the crowd, waving their weapons to ensure no one got too close. You had tried to intervene, to tell them this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but your voice was drowned out by the chaos they had already sown.
That was when the boy appeared, the one you heard slight rumors about. At first, you didn’t know exactly who he was, only that he seemed fearless as he stepped forward. Placing himself between the crowd and the enforcers. His voice rang out, cutting through the noise like a blade.
“Another topsider playing savior,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “You think you can fix Zaun with scraps from your table?”
You had never been spoken to like that before. His words, sharp and accusatory, made your cheeks burn with anger and embarrassment. You turned to him, trying to keep your composure despite the growing crowd that was watching the confrontation unfold.
“I’m not here to play savior,” you shot back, your voice steady even though your heart was racing. “I’m here to help.”
“Help?” He laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and mocking. “Your kind doesn’t help. You just come down here to feel good about yourselves, then leave us to clean up your mess.”
“I’m trying to make a difference!” you snapped, your frustration boiling over.
His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, his posture radiating defiance. “If you really wanted to make a difference, you wouldn’t bring enforcers with you like we’re criminals. You’d be standing with us, not above us.”
The words hit harder than you expected. Somewhere deep down, you knew he was right. The enforcers’ presence had turned an act of charity into a display of control, a reminder of Piltover’s dominance over Zaun. But admitting that felt like defeat, and you weren’t ready to back down.
“This isn’t about standing above anyone,” you argued. “I came here because I care. That’s more than most people from Piltover would do.”
“And that’s supposed to make you special?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Newsflash, princess, Zaun doesn’t need your pity. We need change.”
The enforcers stepped in before the argument could escalate further, pushing the crowd back and ordering you to return to the transport. You left with the weight of his words pressing heavily on your chest, his voice echoing in your mind long after you were gone.
Over the weeks that followed, you found yourself returning to Zaun despite the tension and despite him. Every time you came, he was there, watching you with that same guarded expression. It seemed like he could sense your discomfort, the guilt you carried for what Piltover had done to his home.
“Back again?” he would say, leaning casually against a wall with a smirk that made your blood boil. “Guess you didn’t get the message last time.”
“I’m not here for your approval,” you’d hiss back, your tone dry. “I’m here for the people who actually need help.”
“You think you’re helping?” he’d shoot back, his voice low and laced with frustration. “All you’re doing is putting a bandage on a bullet wound.”
His words stung, not because they were cruel, but because they forced you to confront truths you didn’t want to face. He wasn’t wrong. Everything you did felt small, insignificant compared to the scale of Zaun’s struggles. And yet, you couldn’t stop coming back.
Ekko was unlike anyone you had ever known. He was quick-witted and determined, a rebel who refused to back down in the face of injustice. But he didn’t trust you, not completely. “You’re just another Pilty trying to fix a world you don’t understand,” he had told you once, his voice filled with disdain.
“And you’re just another rebel too angry to see the bigger picture,” you had shot back. Yet despite the constant sparring, you found yourself drawn to him, to the hope buried beneath his frustration.
That hope turned to chaos one night when enforcers raided the Firelights’ hideout. It happened so fast. One moment, you were in the Firelights’ hideout, quietly listening as Ekko outlined plans for their next move against Piltover’s oppression. The next, chaos erupted.
The sound of boots echoed sharply against the metal grates of Zaun’s narrow passages. The enforcers had found the hideout. Your breath caught as the unmistakable clatter of their weapons reverberated through the space. You stood frozen, staring at Ekko as he barked orders to the Firelights around him, his voice sharp and commanding.
“You brought them here, didn’t you?” His words were like a blade, cutting through the noise. His piercing gaze locked onto you, and your stomach churned with guilt.
“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, but your voice was drowned out by the growing commotion. The enforcers didn’t give anyone time to explain. They swarmed in, their heavy armor gleaming under the dim light, weapons raised. You reached for the nearest object which was a dainty metal rod. And tried stand your ground. You weren’t going to let them harm anyone, not here.
Ekko was already moving, his quick reflexes guiding him as he darted through the chaos. The Firelights fought back, using their intimate knowledge of Zaun’s layout to their advantage. Smoke bombs went off, shrouding the room in thick, stinging fog. He towards you with a slight disgusted look and yelled, “You have to leave, Now!”
“I’m not leaving,” you said, your voice defiant.
“You’ll just slow us down,” he snapped, the frustration in his tone cutting deeper than he intended. “They need me. And you need to go back to your perfect little life, staying safe.”
His words stung, but before you could argue, he vanished into the fray, leaving you behind. You tried to follow, weaving through the chaos, but you weren’t quick enough. An enforcer caught you in the shadows, his grip like iron as he slammed you against the wall. “Here you are.”
However the enforcers were relentless. One of them caught sight of you, his eyes narrowing as he grinned. You swung the rod with the little strength you had left, but it was no match for their training. Pain exploded across your abdomen as he shot you. It nearly missed your stomach, however you crumpled to the ground. Gasping for the little air you could muster.
Through the haze of smoke and pain, Ekko pull something from his belt. A device crackling with vibrant green energy. “Firelights, cover your eyes!” he shouted. The device emitted a blinding flash, followed by a wave of sound that sent the enforcers reeling. Their yells of confusion filled the air as they stumbled back, disoriented and clutching their helmets.
The Firelights seized the opportunity, retreating deeper into the hideout and disappearing into secret tunnels. Ekko crouched beside you, his hands shaking as he lifted your chin. “You okay?” he asked, his voice rough but laced with concern.
Without replied to his question, you stumbled out of his grasp. Going into the streets of Zaun, clutching your side as every step sent searing pain through your body. The world around you blurred, a mix of dim lights and the shadows of the towering structures above.
He was shocked to say the least. ‘Why did you leave so abruptly?’ he questioned himself. Ekko didn’t waste a second, he truly did try to hide it. But as soon as the enforcers were gone and the Firelights were safe, he was out the door. Searching for you and he didn’t want to admit it. He knew didn’t know you as much, but he knew you were stubborn. Matter fact for the short period of time he was with you, he knew you were too stubborn to admit how badly you were hurt.
“Where the hell did you go?” he muttered under his breath, scanning the narrow alleys and dimly lit corners of Zaun. His mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last. You were nowhere to be found.
The beating left you crumpled on the ground, your vision blurred and your body trembling with pain. Somehow you managed to drag yourself back to Piltover, every step a battle against the agony that wrecked your body. By the time you stumbled into your family’s estate, the grand halls felt like a mockery of your suffering. Your parents returned hours later to find you collapsed in the foyer, your bruises stark against your weak skin. Their shock quickly turned to anger, though it was born of fear.
“This is what happens when you defy us,” your father said, his voice shaking with fury. “Do you see now? You can’t change the world. You can only get yourself killed.”
“I trying to help,” you murmured, your voice weak but resolute.
“They are not your people,” your mother said, her tone filled with a mix of pity and frustration. “You are our only child. We can’t lose you to some pointless crusade.” Their words lingered, but they didn’t understand. They couldn’t. The divide between Piltover and Zaun wasn’t just physical, it was ideological. You were caught between two worlds, neither one willing to accept you fully. The summons to the Council came the next morning. As you stood in the grand chamber, the weight of their judgment bore down on you. Ambessa Medarda, seated at the center, regarded you with cold disdain.
“You stand accused of undermining Piltover’s authority by associating with the undercity,” she said, her voice sharp and unyielding. “Do you deny these charges?”
“I was just trying to helping people,” you replied exhaustively, your voice steady despite the pain in your ribs.
Ambessa’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Helping? Piltover thrives because of order. And you, as an Arvino, have brought chaos to our city.”The council murmured their agreement, their disapproval a suffocating presence in the room.
“Your actions were reckless,” Ambessa continued. “And your injuries are your own doing. You clutched the knife and cut yourself on its blade, all in the name of some misguided sympathy for the undercity." Her words felt like another blow, each one landing with precision and force.
You straightened your back, though the pain flared at the effort. "I acted because the people of Zaun are ignored and oppressed. Piltover turns a blind eye while it prospers off their suffering. That's not order, it’s exploitation." The murmurs grew louder, some council members shifting uncomfortably in their seats. But Ambessa didn't waver. Her gaze bore into you, her lips curling with faint amusement.
"Such passion," she mused. "But passion without purpose is just noise. You may think yourself a savior, but all you've done is tarnish your family's name and threaten the stability of our city."
Before you could respond, the chamber doors swung open with a heavy groan, and your parents entered. Dressed in their finest, House Arvino's patriarch and matriarch carried themselves with the grace and dignity that Piltover revered. Yet the tension in their features betrayed their unease.
"Ambessa," your father began, his tone measured but firm. "My child's actions, while impulsive, stem from a place of compassion. Surely the Council can recognize that their intentions were not malicious."
"Compassion?" Ambessa's tone was mocking. "Compassion does not excuse rebellion. House Arvino has always stood for loyalty to Piltover's ideals. Is that no longer the case?"
Your mother stepped forward, her voice calm but resolute. "Our loyalty has never wavered. But to degrade my child in front of this council as if they are a common criminal is unacceptable." Ambessa's expression darkened.
"Unacceptable is your heir jeopardizing the balance we've worked so hard to maintain. Zaun is a powder keg, and actions like theirs threaten to ignite it." You bit your lip to keep from speaking. The words you wanted to hurl at her-at all of them-burned on your tongue, but your mother's warning glance silenced you.
"House Arvino will address this matter internally," your father said, his voice brooking no argument. "We will ensure that such actions are not repeated."
Ambessa leaned back in her chair, studying your parents with a calculating gaze. "See that you do. Piltover cannot afford dissent from within its own ranks." The council murmured their agreement, and the session was adjourned. As you were escorted from the chamber, the weight of the council's disdain hung heavy over you.
Back in the confines of your family's estate, the anger you had suppressed boiled over. You slammed your hands against the polished surface of your desk, the pain in your ribs flaring with the movement. "They're cowards," you spat, your voice trembling with fury. "All of them. Sitting in their gilded towers while Zaun suffers."
"Alright thats enough," your father said sharply, entering the room with your mother close behind. "You don't understand the position you've put us in. House Arvino cannot afford to be seen as weak or disloyal."
"I don't care about any of that!" you shouted, turning to face them. "Zaun doesn't have the luxury of appearances. They're dying while we live in luxury!"
Your mother's expression softened, but her voice was firm. "We understand your frustration. But your actions cannot continue. They will destroy you, and us." Their words echoed Ekko's from the night before, and the parallel struck a chord. You sank into a chair, the fight leaving you as exhaustion took its place. "I can't just stop. Not when I know what's happening down there."
Your father sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Then you must find another way. A way that doesn't make enemies of those who hold power." The conversation ended there, but the fire within you didn't dim. If anything, it burned brighter. You couldn't stop. Not now.
Months have passed since your bruises had faded were a careful balancing act, though you still visited Zaun, slipping away under the guise of errands or charitable outings. But you couldn’t risk your parents catching on. To lessen their suspicions, you began inviting Ekko to your home. It was a calculated move, one that made your absences less frequent and gave the illusion that you’d abandoned your cause entirely.
Your room was a testament to Piltover’s grandeur, a lavish blend of opulence and elegance. High ceilings adorned with intricate gold detailing framed the space. The sheer curtains cascaded from tall windows, filtering moonlight across the polished marble floor. A canopy bed, draped in silken fabrics, sat at the room’s center, its pillows and blankets impossibly soft. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes ranging from engineering texts to poetry. A chandelier, all crystal and gleaming light, hung overhead, casting a warm glow over every corner.
It was in this very room that Ekko sat now, hidden behind the lush velvet curtains of one of the tall windows. Your father had come to check on you earlier, his heavy footsteps unmistakable in the hallway. When he entered, you were seated at your desk, feigning focus on a mundane ledger. He lingered by the door, his gaze sweeping over the room before settling on you. “You’ve been staying home more often,” he observed.
You offered a nonchalant shrug. “I realized it was pointless to keep going there. It’s useless trying to fix what can’t be fixed.”
Your father’s face betrayed nothing, but there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “A wise choice,” he said simply, and without another word, he left.
The door clicked shut, and you exhaled slowly, waiting until his footsteps faded down the hall. Then, turning your head slightly, you murmured, “You can come out now.”
Ekko stepped from behind the curtains, his movements silent but confident. He was a great contrast to your room’s pristine elegance. His clothes patched and worn, his presence a reminder of the worlds you tried to somehow balance. “You’re getting good at lying,” he remarked, a teasing edge to his tone.
You rolled your eyes, motioning for him to sit on the plush chair near your desk. “I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t insist on brainstorming plans here.”
“It’s safer,” he replied, settling into the chair and pulling a small notebook from his pocket. “Besides, you’re the one with the luxury of access. If we’re going to unite the cities, we need someone who can work both sides.”
You hated how his words made your heart race. Not because of their weight but because it was Ekko saying them. Somewhere in the months of sneaking around and strategizing, you’d grown to like him in a way that went far beyond friendly admiration. You buried those feelings deep, telling yourself there was no time for distractions.
The hours passed as the two of you pored over maps, scribbled ideas, and argued over logistics. The moon rose higher in the sky, its silver light pouring through the windows and bathing your room in an ethereal glow. Ekko grew quieter as the night wore on, his usual sharp wit replaced by a pensive silence. You noticed his gaze flickering to you more often, lingering for moments too long before darting away. At first, you ignored it, chalking it up to exhaustion. But when you caught him staring for the fifth time, you couldn’t help but smirk. “Something on your mind?” you asked, leaning back in your chair.
He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Just thinking.”
“About?” you questioned, leaning back against your chair.
“About how strange it is, being here,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual. “This room, this world…it feels like it shouldn’t exist. Like it’s too perfect to be real.”
“It’s not perfect,” you said quietly, your gaze dropping to the papers on your desk. “It’s a gilded cage. Nothing more.”
His eyes softened, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words. Then, slowly, he stood and crossed the room to where you sat.
“I hate to say this. But atleast i’m here…” he said hesitantly, his voice low and steady.
Something in his tone made your breath hitch. You looked up at him, and the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. Before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you leaned in.
Ekko met you halfway, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that left you breathless. His hand found the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. It was nothing like you'd imagined. It was raw, desperate, and full of the emotions you'd both kept bottled up for too long.
He pulled you to your feet, guiding you back toward the bed without breaking the kiss. The world blurred around you, your senses overwhelmed by the warmth of his touch, the taste of his lips, the way he made you feel alive in a way you never had before.
You fell onto the bed, the soft blankets and pillows cushioning your back as he leaned over you, his weight a comforting pressure. His hands framed your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks as he kissed you again and again, each one more passionate than the last.
It wasn't until his arms braced on either side of your head that he pulled back, his chest heaving as he stared down at you. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the softness in his eyes.
"Do you want me to keep going?" he asked, his voice hoarse. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "You might as well…" And as he leaned down to kiss you again, you knew there was no going back from this.
Golden hues of the afternoon sun spilled into your room through the tall, arched windows, painting the polished wooden floors in a mosaic of light and shadow. Outside, the tranquil sounds of Piltover carried through the crisp air. The distant hum of mechanized carriages, the faint chatter of passersby, and the melodic chirping of birds perched along the grand gardens that surrounded your home. Everything was perfect, picturesque even, but it all felt hollow.
Your bedroom was a masterpiece of luxury, a reflection of House Arvino’s status. Elegant bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound tomes you once eagerly devoured. A velvet armchair sat by the fireplace, its cushion still as pristine as the day it arrived, and your grand four-poster bed was draped in silk, untouched except for the rumpled corner where you sat. Yet, despite the warmth and beauty of the space, it felt cold.
You hadn’t touched your breakfast that morning, nor the one the day before. The silver tray your maid brought hours ago sat untouched on your writing desk, the tea long gone cold. Your appetite had vanished with him.
“Miss,” came a tentative voice from the doorway. You turned to see Anya, your maid, standing there with a concerned expression. She stepped into the room, her brow furrowed as her gaze swept over you. “You haven’t eaten again. This isn’t healthy.”
You waved her off without meeting her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” she pressed gently, her voice tinged with worry. “You’ve barely touched your meals for over a week. If this continues, I’ll have to tell your parents.”
Her words sent a jolt through you. The last thing you wanted was for your parents to get involved. They wouldn’t understand. They never did. But you knew Anya was serious. Her loyalty to you didn’t outweigh her duty to ensure your well-being.
“Alright,” you relented, forcing a weak smile. “I’ll eat later.”
Anya didn’t look convinced, but she nodded and left the room. The heavy door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. You leaned back against the plush pillows of your bed, staring up at the intricate carvings on the ceiling. Days had turned into weeks since Ekko had kissed you in this very room. Weeks since you’d seen him, since you’d spoken to him. At first, you’d waited eagerly, expecting him to climb through your window with that same confident smirk he always wore. But as the days passed, hope turned to disappointment.
However, the first week had been agony. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the trees outside, had sent your heart racing, only for it to sink when you realized it wasn’t him. You told yourself he was busy, that Zaun demanded too much of him to spare a moment for you. But as the second week came and went, you began to question everything.
Was the kiss a mistake? Did he regret it? The thought gnawed at you, leaving you restless and irritable. Eventually, you stopped waiting. You stopped glancing at the window, stopped listening for the familiar sound of his footsteps. If he didn’t want to see you, then fine. You wouldn’t waste your time waiting for someone who clearly didn’t care.
But despite your best efforts to move on, the ache in your chest remained. It showed in the way you pushed away your meals, the way you avoided the social gatherings your parents encouraged you to attend. Your mother had noticed, of course, her sharp eyes taking in your pale complexion and listless demeanor. “Are you unwell, darling?” she’d asked one evening, her tone as polished as ever.
You’d smiled and lied, assuring her it was nothing more than fatigue. She’d accepted your answer, but her gaze lingered, skeptical.
Now, as you sat in your room, the weight of it all pressing down on you, you realized you couldn’t keep living like this. You couldn’t keep letting his absence control your life. If he didn’t care, then neither should you. But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself, the truth was undeniable. You missed him.
The days stretched on, blending into a monotony of forced smiles and empty conversations. You threw yourself into the routines of Piltover’s elite. Attending social calls, charitable luncheons, and the parties where everyone whispered behind jeweled fans about alliances and intrigue. On the surface, you seemed like yourself again. You laughed when expected, nodded politely during dull conversations, and played the part of the perfect child of House Arvino.
But beneath the carefully constructed façade, a storm brewed. No matter how hard you tried to bury it, the memory of Ekko lingered, sharper and more vivid with each passing day. His voice, his touch, the way he had kissed you. It all haunted you. It didn’t make sense, you told yourself. He was just a friend, nothing more. Yet the thought of him ignoring you, of deliberately staying away, clawed at your chest.
One night, long after the rest of your house had gone to bed, you sat by your window, staring out at the glowing lights of Piltover. The thought hit you with the force of a hammer. You know deep down that you couldn’t keep waiting. If he wouldn’t come to you, then you would go to him.
The decision wasn’t easy. It took days to build up the courage, to push aside the fear of what you might find. But when you finally made your way to Zaun, the heavy air and dim light of the undercity greeted you like an old adversary. You navigated the twisting streets, every step bringing back memories of the times you’d spent here. How he had carefully and slowly opened this world to you, how you’d fought for it together. Well atleast try to.
When you finally reached the Firelights’ hideout, you felt your stomach tighten. It looked the same as ever, but something about it felt different. You spotted him almost immediately, standing near a table strewn with maps and tools, his back to you. “Ekko,” you called out, your voice steady despite the tremor in your chest.
He turned slowly, his face unreadable. For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes. Was it surprise, maybe even relief. Either way it didn’t matter because it was gone in an instant, replaced by an icy look. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone cold.
The words hit you harder than you expected. “I… I came to see you. It’s been weeks, and—”
“And what?” He cut you off, turning away to fiddle with something on the table. “You’ve got a life up there. What do you need me for?”
Your chest tightened, anger bubbling to the surface. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like I just forgot about you. You’re the one who stopped coming around.”
He scoffed, finally turning to face you. “Stopped coming around? You think I’ve got time to play house? I’ve got real things to deal with here, things that actually matter.”
The words stung, but you refused to back down. “And I don’t? Do you think it’s easy for me to come here, to fight for a place I don’t even belong to? I thought we were doing this together, Ekko.”
He stepped closer, his voice rising. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t belong here. This about you. You can go back to your fancy dinners and your perfect life anytime you want, but this is my reality.”
You clenched your fists, your own voice shaking with anger. “Don’t you dare act like I haven’t sacrificed anything! Do you know what it’s like to lie to everyone you care about, to pretend you’re someone you’re not, just so you can try to make a difference?”
“Sacrifice?” he shot back, his voice dripping with disbelief. “You don’t know the first thing about sacrifice.” The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on you both. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the anger simmering in the silence.
Finally, you took a shaky breath, your voice softer but no less firm. “You don’t get to decide what I care about, Ekko. I came here because I thought you were my friend.”
He looked away, his jaw tight. “I didn’t ask for you to come.” The words were like a slap to the face, but you refused to let him see how much they hurt. “Fine,” you said, your voice cold. “If that’s how you feel, then I won’t bother you again.”
You turned on your heel, walking away before he could see the tears starting to swell in your eyes. But just as you reached the door, his voice stopped you. “Wait.”
You hesitated, your hand on the worn wood, but you didn’t turn around.
“I…” His voice faltered, the anger replaced by something softer. He inched his head as he paced around, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
You looked back at him, his expression finally cracking. There was pain in his eyes, the same pain you’d been carrying for weeks.
“Then what did you mean?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling.
He didn’t answer right away, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just… I didn’t know what to say. After what happened, I thought it’d be easier if I stayed away. But it wasn’t.”
Your shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of you. Looking at with with complete disbelief. “Seriously! You could’ve just told me.”
He nodded, his expression filled with regret. “Yeah. I should’ve.”
For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the weight of the argument lingering in the air. But as you looked at him, at the boy who had opened your eyes to so much, you felt the anger fade, replaced by something else. This was something you weren’t ready to admit to anyone.
A few months have passed and things were relatively calm, much hasn’t happened since then. The suffocating air of Piltover’s council chamber lingered in your mind as you strode through the bustling streets of Zaun. The conversations in those hallowed halls always left a bitter taste on your tongue. They spoke of progress and prosperity, but beneath the gilded rhetoric, it was all about control. To control of resources, people, and power. It was a game you were born into but had grown to despise.
You moved swiftly, your hood pulled low to shield your face from prying eyes. The undercity was alive with its usual chaos, but you’d long learned to navigate its labyrinthine streets without drawing attention. This was your escape, your solace. The world of House Arvino, your family’s wealth, influence, and ties to the Council. It all felt more like chains with each passing day.
The hideout was tucked deep within the shadows of Zaun, a sanctuary for the oppressed and rebellious. It had become a second home to you, a place where you could finally breathe. Ekko had been wary of you at first, rightfully so. Your name carried weight in Piltover, and trust wasn’t something he gave freely. But over time, you’d proven yourself.
Today, the air in the hideout was thick with tension. Ekko was at the center of it all, his voice calm but commanding as he gave orders to his crew. He noticed you immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as you approached.
“Back again?” he asked, leaning against a makeshift table. His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it, a quiet concern he rarely voiced outright.
“I can’t seem to stay away,” you replied, offering a small smile.
His lips twitched, almost forming a grin, but he shook his head instead. “You’re playing a dangerous game, y’know?”
You shrugged. “I know.”
He studied you for a moment, his gaze lingering as if he was trying to decipher something. Then, with a sigh, he gestured for you to follow him to a quieter corner.
“What’s really going on?” he asked once you were alone. “You’ve been coming here more often, and I know it’s not just to check on the Firelights.”
You hesitated, your fingers gripping the edge of your cloak. “I… I don’t know if I can keep doing this. Pretending like everything’s fine topside when I know how much blood is on their hands. My family’s hands.”
He frowned, his usual confidence giving way to something softer. “You’re not responsible for what they do.”
“Aren’t I?” you countered, your voice rising. “I’m part of them, Ekko. Every time I go back to that house, every time I sit in those meetings, I’m complicit. I’m part of the system that’s crushing this place.”
The intensity of your words caught him off guard, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding. “Then why do you keep going back?”
“Because…” You trailed off, your throat tightening. “Because I thought I could help. That I could use my position to make a difference. But now, I’m not so sure. The Council sees Zaun as nothing more than a problem to be solved, more importantly, destroyed.”
Ekko’s jaw tightened, his anger barely contained. “They’ll never stop. Not unless we make them.”
You couldn’t stop thinking of the face ekko made when you told him what you were internally thinking. How the council thinks so poorly about zaun, how it can be something that wouldn’t be missed if it was gone. It was horrible that most of the topsiders thought the same way, had the same mindset.
You walked briskly, the streets unfamiliar under the heavy shadows of the evening. You had chosen this route for its discretion, a calculated decision that now felt dangerous in its isolation.
Your heart pounded in your chest, though you didn't want to admit why. It wasn't fear of being recognized or stopped by one of Zaun's residents. No, this was something more insidious. A seed of doubt planted by weeks of balancing on a blade's edge between two lives. House Arvino's influence was undeniable, and it had kept you shielded from true danger for so long. But here in Zaun, your family name meant less than nothing. To most, you were just another noble, another cog in the machine grinding them into dust.
Ambessa had recently cornered you in Piltover's glittering council halls, her words honeyed but laced with venom. She had offered you promises of power, privilege, and security for your family. In order to gain immunity from suspicion, all in exchange for complete submission. You'd nodded and played your role, but the encounter left you hollow. The high society life you'd once cherished now felt like a gilded cage, and her offer only tightened the bars.
Yet, her influence was terrifying. Under Ambessa's direction, the Council had started scrutinizing House Arvino with an alarming intensity. The Firelights, they claimed, had spies in Piltover. And somehow, House Arvino's connections to Zaun became their scapegoat. You were well aware of what that scrutiny meant-your family was being squeezed, maneuvered into a position where betrayal seemed the only way to survive. A betrayal by who? you thought.
As you turned a corner into an empty alley, those doubts turned into a growing unease. The silence around you felt oppressive, unnatural. You hesitated, glancing over your shoulder. That was when the first strike landed, the butt of the gun hitting your head. You staggered, gasping in pain, only to be shoved against the damp wall. A rough hand grabbed your cloak and yanked it back, revealing your face to the enforcers.
"Well, well," one sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "A little lost noble playing savior in Zaun yet again."
"Let go!" you hissed, trying to pull free. But there were too many of them, and their grips were forceful and rough.
"We know all about your little meetings with the boy," another enforcer said, driving his fist into your stomach. "Did you really think you could run around down here without consequences? Or did your family forget to teach you how the real world works?" The pain blurred your vision as you crumpled to the ground. You clawed at the dirt, trying to crawl away, but another blow landed, then another.
Laughter echoed around you as they kicked and struck without mercy. The worst part wasn't the physical pain. It was the guilt, the sickening realization that you'd been naive enough to believe there could be change. Especially from within the Council's walls. You'd hoped that by walking the line between your family and the Firelights, you could create something better. But this? This was your reward for dreaming too much.
Tears blurred your vision as you curled into yourself, trying to shield your head. "Stupid," you whispered through clenched teeth. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." You slammed your fist against your temple, desperate to drown out the pain, the voices, the failure.
The enforcers stepped back momentarily, likely to assess whether you were still conscious. But before they could strike again, a loud crackling sound filled the air. "Back off," came a familiar voice, sharp and commanding.
You barely managed to open your eyes, but the sight was unmistakable. Ekko and his hoverboard gleaming as he charged forward. Behind him, several Firelights emerged from the shadows, their makeshift weapons glowing in the dim light.
"What the-" one enforcer started, but Ekko was already upon him, a precise swing of his bat sending the man sprawling. The Firelights fought with a ferocity that sent the enforcers scattering, though Ekko's eyes never left you. He reached your side in moments, dropping to his knees. "Hey," he said, his voice softer now. "Don’t go close your eyes, stay with me now."
You tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob. Blood trickled from a huge gash above your brow, staining your face. Ekko pressed a hand to your shoulder to steady you, but you flinched. Your fist weakly hitting your own head again. "Stop it," he said firmly, grabbing your wrist before you could hurt yourself further. "Hey! Don't do that."
"I'm an idiot," you mumbled, your voice barely audible. "| thought... I thought they could change. That Piltover could change. But I was wrong. They'll never stop."
His expression softened, though his jaw was still tight with anger. "You're not an idiot. You're just optimistic... too hopeful for your own good."
The Firelights surrounded you, their movements tense as they prepared for more enforcers to arrive. Ekko lifted you carefully, his arm supporting your weight. "We need to move," one of his crew said.
"Yeah i know," Ekko replied, his eyes still on you. "Let's get out of here."
As he carried you to safety, the weight of your choices pressed down on you like never before. Your family would demand answers. The Council would escalate their efforts. And Ambessa? Oh, she’s gonna have a fieldday with this. She would stop at nothing to make you pay for what she'd see, see it as a betrayal to your own people. But as Ekko held you steady, his presence a grounding force amidst the chaos, you realized something else. You were no longer just caught between two worlds, you were tearing one down to build the other.
Ekko’s chambers weren’t lavish, but they were purposeful, an organized chaos that spoke of a leader always in motion. The space was tucked inside one of the largest branches of the Firelight’s sprawling treehouse hideout. The soft glow of lanterns filled the room, their light reflecting off walls adorned with maps, sketches, and scattered tools. From the small window, you could see the hideout below, a buzzing network of walkways, platforms, and people moving with quiet purpose.
The bed you lay on was makeshift but sturdy, piled with blankets and pillows that smelled faintly of Zaun’s metal-tinged air. Your body ached everywhere. Sharp, stinging pains in some places, a deep, relentless soreness in others. Slowly, you tried to sit up, wincing as the movement sent sharp jolts of pain through your ribs.
Across the room, Ekko stood at a workbench, tinkering with something that sparked faintly under his fingers. His braids were tied back, and his jacket was slung over the back of a chair, leaving him in a simple shirt that clung to his frame. When he glanced over and saw you struggling to rise, his eyes widened, and he immediately abandoned his project.
“Hey, whoa—what do you think you’re doing?” he asked, crossing the room in a heartbeat.
“I’m fine,” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as you tried to wave him off.
“You’re not fine,” he countered, his hands carefully but firmly guiding you back down onto the bed. “You’ve been out for two days, and you can barely sit up without wincing.”
“I can handle it,” you said, though your body betrayed you with another sharp wince as you tried to adjust yourself on the pillows.
“Yeah, I can see that,” Ekko replied dryly, but his voice softened as he knelt beside the bed. “Seriously. You need to rest. Let me help.”
There was a quiet moment as he adjusted the pillows behind you, moving with surprising gentleness. His hands lingered briefly, his eyes scanning your face as if double checking for signs of discomfort.
“Thanks,” you murmured, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.
He shook his head, leaning back on his heels. “You don’t have to thank me. I just… You scared the hell out of me, y’know?”
You glanced away, guilt stirring in your chest. “I didn’t mean to. I just… I didn’t think it would get THAT bad.”
Ekko sat back on the floor, his arms resting on his knees as he studied you. “Why did you do it?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “When I found you, you were hitting yourself and saying all these… awful things. About yourself.”
Your breath hitched at the memory, shame washing over you. “It’s just… something I do when I’m frustrated,” you admitted, not meeting his gaze. “I was angry, at everyone and everything. Y’know, I thought I could make a difference, but I was wrong. I let everyone down.”
“Oh come on don’t say that,” Ekko said firmly, cutting you off. “You didn’t let anyone down. You’re one of the only people from Piltover who actually cares about Zaun. And yeah, maybe you were too optimistic, but that’s not a bad thing. You don’t deserve what they did to you.” His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, he added, “It’s not safe for you to go back to Piltover.”
You frowned, meeting his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been hearing things,” Ekko said, his expression darkening. “Rumors. Ambessa’s pissed. She thinks you’ve betrayed the Council, and she’s not the kind of person to let something like that slide. Word is, she wants your head.” The weight of his words settled heavily on your chest, and you slumped back against the pillows. “So that’s it, then?” you said bitterly. “I can’t go home. I can’t go back to Piltover. What am I supposed to do now?”
Ekko leaned closer, his gaze unwavering. “You stay here,” he said simply. “With me. You’ve got people who will vouch for you for the most part. I’ll fight for you.” Something in his tone made your chest tighten, and for the first time in days, a small, hesitant smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks, Ekko. For literally everything.”
He reached out and gently squeezed your hand. “Anytime .”
, marked with red ink, highlighted the areas where House Arvino’s trade routes intersected with Zaun’s underbelly.
A grizzled Baron leaned forward, his metallic fingers tapping against the table. “House Arvino’s little noble has gone rogue,” he rasped, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “The Council’s after them, sure, but that just makes this all the more interesting for us.”
Another Baron, her voice honeyed but sharp, chimed in. “If we get our hands on them, imagine the leverage we’d have. Not just over Arvino, but the Council and even the Firelights. They’re a walking, breathing key to the chaos we’ve been craving.”
“They’re already in Zaun,” another added, her tone laced with confidence. “All we need is patience. When the time is right, we’ll make our move.” The Barons exchanged nods, their plan unspoken but clear. For now, they would wait, watching, their web of spies and informants slowly tightening around you.
From across the platform, Ekko leaned casually against a railing, watching the interaction unfold. His arms were crossed, but there was a noticeable softness in his gaze, a flicker of something close to admiration.
In the days that followed, the children of the hideout began to gravitate toward you. They tugged at your hands, peppering you with questions about Piltover and laughing at your awkward attempts to keep up with their boundless energy. You found yourself helping where you could, organizing supplies, assisting with small repairs, and even attempting to teach some of the younger ones how to read.
Though the older Firelights were slower to trust, you noticed their glances were no longer as sharp, their whispers not as harsh. You were earning your place here, bit by bit, though it was a far cry from the life you had once known. Piltover, with its grand halls and polished façades, felt like a distant memory now, one you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to cling to.
Ekko, ever watchful, seemed to take quiet satisfaction in your efforts. He didn’t say much, but his presence was definitely there. Whether he was checking on you or working alongside the others. There was a rhythm to life in the hideout, and you were beginning to find your place within it.
Unbeknownst to you, danger loomed closer than you realized. The Chem Barons’ spies were everywhere, watching, reporting back with meticulous detail. Every interaction you had, every movement you made, was noted. To them, you were a pawn in a much larger game, one that could tip the balance of power in Zaun.
“They’re softening,” one spy reported back, his voice low as he spoke into a communicator hidden beneath his cloak. “The Firelights trust them more every day. If we move now, it’ll be too obvious.”
“Let them feel safe,” came the reply, cold and calculating. “When the time is right, we’ll take them. And when we do, House Arvino will learn what happens when they meddle in Zaun’s affairs.”
It was another ordinary morning in the hideout when you decided to venture outside Ekko’s chambers. The soreness in your body was a dull ache now, manageable but constant. As you stepped onto the main platform, the sunlight filtering through the leaves felt warm on your skin, a stark contrast to the chill of Piltover’s marble halls.
You hadn’t noticed Ekko watching you until you caught his reflection in the metal plating of a nearby railing. He was perched on a ledge, his goggles pushed up onto his forehead, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“You’re staring again,” you said, your tone teasing as you turned to face him fully.
Ekko smirked, hopping down from the ledge with practiced ease. “Just making sure you’re not overdoing it,” he shot back. “You’ve got a habit of biting off more than you can chew.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms despite the ache in your shoulders. “I’m fine, Ekko. I’ve been fine. You don’t have to keep hovering.”
His expression softened, but he didn’t back down. “Someone has to. If it weren’t for me, you’d probably still be lying in the street.” The reminder stung, not because it wasn’t true, but because it forced you to confront just how fragile your position had become. You looked away, scanning the hideout below where Firelights bustled about their tasks. The children’s laughter floated up, a soothing balm to the tension that threatened to settle between you and Ekko.
“I’ve been trying to help,” you murmured. “I don’t want to be a burden. It’s just that…” You trailed off, unsure of how to put the conflict in your heart into words.
Ekko stepped closer, his voice low and steady. “You’re not a burden,” he said firmly. “But you’re not invincible either. And if you keep throwing yourself into danger like this, someone’s going to take advantage of it.” His words hit harder than you cared to admit, but before you could respond, a group of children came running up, dragging you into their latest adventure A game that involved climbing ropes strung between the platforms. You gave Ekko a grateful smile, silently promising him you’d be careful, even if you weren’t entirely sure how.
That night, as the Firelights settled into the quiet hum of evening, Ekko pulled you aside. His chambers felt more like a refuge now than a room, its warmth amplified by the soft glow of firelight reflecting off polished metal and glass.
“You’ve been doing good here,” he began, leaning against his workbench. “The kids adore you, and even the older crew is starting to come around. But it’s not just about fitting in, you know?”
You tilted your head, unsure where he was going with this. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated, his fingers drumming against the table. “The Chem Barons,” he said finally, his tone heavy. “They’ve got their eyes on you now. Your family’s deals with them? Those don’t go unnoticed. And with the Council already hunting you, you’re stuck between two very dangerous sides.”
The weight of his words settled over you like a shroud. “So what do I do?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.
Ekko stepped closer, his gaze meeting yours. “Like i said earlier, you stay here. The Firelights are your best chance now. We’ll protect you, but you’ve got to let us.”
You swallowed hard, nodding despite the fear gnawing at your resolve. “And my family?”
“Well they already made their choice,” he said, his tone softening. “Now you’ve got to make yours.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The firelight flickered, casting long shadows on the walls. Ekko’s steady presence was a comfort, a reminder that you weren’t as alone as you felt.
You have spent the last few weeks peacefully managing your new life in zaun. As for today, it was surely a day to remember. It had been long but rewarding. You’d spent most of it helping around the hideout, patching up clothes, organizing supplies, and entertaining the children with small stories and makeshift games. Their laughter had been infectious, warming a part of you that you didn’t even realize had grown cold. But now, as the sun set and the last streaks of orange faded from the sky, exhaustion crept over you like a heavy blanket.
Returning to Ekko’s chambers felt like stepping into a sanctuary. The room was quiet, the gentle hum of activity outside muffled by the thick wood and steel walls. The soft glow of a makeshift lamp illuminated the space, casting warm shadows across the worn furniture. The room smelled faintly of oil and smoke, mixed with something earthy. You didn’t even bother taking off your boots, flopping onto the bed with a sigh and burying your face in the worn but surprisingly soft blankets.
Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours. You weren’t sure. You only stirred when you heard the sound of the door opening and closing quietly. Lifting your head, you spotted Ekko standing near the entrance, his figure backlit by the dim lights outside. His jacket was off, his sleeveless shirt revealing the lean muscle of his arms. His hair was tied back tonight, though a few strands had fallen loose, framing his face in a way that made your chest tighten.
“You look dead,” he teased, though there was no humor in his voice. His eyes swept over you, his usual sharpness softened by concern.
“I feel dead,” you replied, your voice muffled by the pillow.
Ekko crossed the room in a few long strides, pulling a chair closer to sit by the bedside. “Long day?”
You nodded, not bothering to sit up. “Rewarding, though. The kids are exhausting, but in a good way. I think I’m finally starting to feel like I’m… I don’t know, contributing?”
He leaned back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest as he watched you. “You’ve done more than enough already. They’re warming up to you faster than I thought they would. Guess you’ve got a knack for making people feel safe.”
His words brought a faint smile to your lips, but your body felt too heavy to do much more than that. “Maybe. Or maybe they just like the shiny Piltover noble playing dress-up as a Firelight.”
“You’re more than that,” he said softly, almost too softly for you to hear. The weight of his gaze drew your attention. Turning your head, you found his eyes fixed on you, dark and intense in a way that made your stomach twist. There was something unspoken in his expression, something raw and magnetic.
“Ekko,” you said, his name slipping from your lips like a warning. He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he brought himself closer to your level. The air between you grew thick, charged with an unspoken tension that neither of you seemed willing to break.
Your breath hitched as his hand moved, not to touch you, but to hover near your face, as if he wasn’t sure he had the right. “You should rest,” he said finally, though his voice was strained, as though it was the last thing he wanted to say.
“I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice betrayed you. There was a nervous tremor there, one that you couldn’t quite suppress.
“You’re not,” he replied, his tone sharper this time, though the edge was softened by the way his hand dropped to his lap, curling into a fist. “And you shouldn’t have to keep pretending you are.”
You swallowed hard, your heart racing in your chest. He was too close, his presence overwhelming in a way that left you both yearning and terrified. For a moment, you thought he might lean in, that he might close the unbearable distance between you. And part of you wanted him to. But you couldn’t.
As if sensing your hesitation, Ekko pulled back, though his expression betrayed the conflict raging inside him. He rose from the chair abruptly, turning his back to you as he ran a hand over his face. “I need to check on something,” he said, his voice tight.
You sat up slightly, confusion and guilt warring within you. “Ekko, wait—”
“There’s food on the table,” he interrupted, not turning to face you. “You should eat. And…” He hesitated, his hand resting on the doorknob. “I left something for you. Thought you might like it.”
Before you could respond, he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. You stared at the space he’d just vacated, the room suddenly feeling much larger and lonelier than it had before.
Rising from the bed, you made your way to the small table in the corner. A covered plate of food sat there, still warm, alongside a neatly wrapped package. Your fingers trembled as you opened it, revealing a small, intricately carved pendant in the shape of a firefly. The sight of it brought a lump to your throat. You clutched the pendant tightly, sinking back into the chair as a wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm you. Ekko had left, but his presence lingered in every corner of the room, in the care he’d shown you, in the gift he’d left behind.
You closed your eyes, the weight of the hectic day and the unresolved tension between you pressing down like a heavy blanket. But even as exhaustion pulled you under, you couldn’t shake the memory of his eyes. The way they had looked at you, filled with longing and restraint.
Hours ticked by like an endless parade of thoughts that refused to settle. You sat in Ekko’s chair, knees drawn up slightly as your elbows resting on them. cradling your head in your hands. A sigh escaped your lips, heavy and full of frustration, as your thoughts spiraled into overthinking once again. Why hadn’t he kissed you earlier?
At first, you tried to dismiss it as if it was nothing, just a fleeting moment, something that could be easily explained away by the heat of the moment. But deep down, you knew better. The way he had looked at you wasn’t casual or friendly. It was something more, something intense and unspoken.
Still, you couldn’t help but doubt. Maybe he had been teasing, the way friends sometimes did to lighten the mood. Maybe he didn’t feel the same, and you’d simply read too much into it. But then your mind wandered back to that day in your bedroom. The memory of his closeness as the tension that sparked between you like lightning in a thunderstorm.
Friends don’t act like that.
But then again, why had he ignored you for weeks after that moment? Why hadn’t he said anything or even done anything, to give you some clarity? The questions swirled in your head, each one feeding into the next, until your chest felt tight and your breathing shallow.
You let out another sigh, leaning forward until your forehead almost touched your knees. “What are you doing to me, Ekko?” you murmured to yourself, the words barely audible in the quiet room.
You glanced at the door for the hundredth time, wondering where he’d gone. What was keeping him out so late or rather so early, given the faint light of sun beginning to creep into the room. Would he even come back tonight? Or was this going to be like before, where he disappeared for days, leaving you to piece together the fragments of what you thought you understood about him?
The thought of being ignored again made your chest ache in a way you weren’t prepared to admit. You leaned back in the chair, closing your eyes against the onslaught of emotions. Sleep pulled at you, but you resisted, stubbornly staying awake as if you could somehow summon him back to you. Eventually, though, your exhaustion won. Your head lolled against the back of the chair, your breathing evening out as sleep claimed you.
Ekko slipped into the room quietly, his footsteps barely making a sound against the wooden floor. The sight of you hit him like a punch to the chest. There you were, curled up in his chair, fast asleep. Your face was soft in slumber, but there was a faint crease between your brows. Almost as if even your dreams couldn’t fully erase the tension you’d been feeling. His gaze softened as he took you in, a pang of guilt threading through his chest.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Jeez…” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Carefully, he crossed the room and crouched beside you. You stirred slightly at his presence, murmuring something incoherent. Without thinking, he slid one arm under your knees and the other around your back, lifting you effortlessly into his strong arms.
You mumbled something again, your head lolling against his shoulder. Which caused him to freeze for a moment, waiting to see if you’d wake up. But you didn’t. He carried you to the bed and laid you down gently, pulling the blanket over you.
As he turned to step away, he felt your hand grab weakly at his shirt. “Don’t go,” you murmured, your voice thick with sleep. He froze in place, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked down at you, your eyes half-open and drowsy but locked onto his.
“You shouldn’t sleep in a chair,” you continued, your words slightly slurred. “And you… shouldn’t leave me like that.”
His breath caught. “I wasn’t going to leave,” he said softly.
You tugged at his shirt again, pulling him closer. He sank down onto the edge of the bed, his face hovering close to yours. “Why didn’t you kiss me earlier?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
The question hung in the air, heavy and electrified. Ekko’s eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a deep red. “What?”
“When you had the chance,” you mumbled, your voice fading as sleep pulled at you again. “You looked like you wanted to, but you didn’t. Why?”
He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. The proximity, the softness of your voice and the vulnerability in your question. It was almost too much to handle. He didn’t know how to answer. Hell, he didn’t even know if he could answer it.
“You were exhausted,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t think it was the right time.”
You hummed softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re so stubborn,” you whispered, your eyes drifting shut.
He exhaled shakily, his heart continued its rapid pace as he watched you fall back into sleep. For a moment, he just sat there, his gaze tracing the outline of your beautiful face. He wanted to kiss you. God, he wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt. But he wouldn’t. Not yet. Not like this.
Instead, he stood and grabbed the chair, dragging it closer to the bed. He sat down and rested his head in his hands, trying to steady his breathing, to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He stayed there until the drowsiness claimed him too.
You woke to the warmth of sunlight streaming through the cracks in the wooden walls, a golden glow bathing the room. It was already late, half the day gone, by the looks of it. You woke up to the warmth of the sun shining through the cracks on the wooden walls. It bathed the room. You stretched lazily under the blanket, the aches in your body from the past few days reduced to a dull throb. Turning your head, you saw Ekko. Who was still slumped in the chair beside the bed, asleep.
Your brow furrowed as you watched him. His head rested awkwardly on one hand, his legs stretched out, his shoulders slightly hunched. How could he sleep like that? He must’ve spent the entire night sitting there just to keep an eye on you.
How can he sacrifice his comfort like this?
You studied him, taking in the faint lines of exhaustion etched into his features. He looked so tired, so worn down. Ekko carried so much on his shoulders. The Firelights, the fight for Zaun’s freedom, the safety of the kids who looked up to him. And not to mention you as well. It wasn’t fair, you thought. He gave so much of himself and rarely took a moment for his own peace.
You slid out of bed quietly, wincing at the soreness in your muscles, and approached him. Gently, you placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him awake. “Ekko,” you said softly.
He stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering open, and then he bolted upright, instinctively swatting your hand away. His palm struck yours with more force than he intended, making you hiss at the sting.
“Shit,” he muttered, sitting up fully now, his face a mixture of alarm and regret. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” you interrupted, shaking your hand out with a small wince. “It happens.”
He ran a hand over his face, sighing heavily. “I shouldn’t have—”
“You shouldn’t have spent the whole night sleeping in a chair,” you cut in, your tone playful but firm. “Are you crazy? You’ll wreck your back.”
He shrugged, his lips twitching into a faint, sheepish smile. “It’s not the first time.”
“That doesn’t make it better,” you said, crossing your arms.
He gave you a tired chuckle, leaning back in the chair. “I’ll survive. I’ve been through worse.”
But that wasn’t enough for you. Watching him now, the weariness in his eyes even as he tried to act like everything was fine. An idea sparked in your mind, one that you knew he’d hate at first. But it was for his own good.
You grinned, your excitement bubbling over as you clapped your hands together. “I have a surprise for you!”
Ekko raised an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. “A surprise?”
“Yep!” you said, bouncing on your heels, your eyes alight with mischief. “But I’m not telling you what it is. You’ll just have to trust me.”
His skepticism deepened. “That sounds like a bad idea.”
“Oh, come on,” you teased, leaning down slightly to meet his gaze. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
He gave you a flat look. “I think I left it behind when I became the leader of the Firelights.”
You pouted dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. “That’s tragic. Guess I’ll have to help you find it again.”
Ekko shook his head, laughing softly despite himself. “You sure are something alright”
“Yep!” you chirped, grabbing his hand and tugging him to his feet. “Now, come on.”
He resisted, planting his feet firmly. “Wait. I have things to do. The kids—”
“They’ll survive without you for a few hours,” you said, cutting him off with a pointed look. “You need this, Ekko. Trust me.” He opened his mouth to argue, but the determination in your eyes stopped him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But you’d better not get me killed.”
You grinned triumphantly, grabbing a scarf from the nearby table. “Oh, and one more thing.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?”
You stepped closer, holding up the scarf. “You’re getting blindfolded.”
“Nope,” he said immediately, crossing his arms.
“Yep,” you countered, your grin widening. “It’s part of the surprise.”
“I’m not letting you blindfold me,” he said firmly.
“Aw, are you scared?” you teased, leaning in closer.
His jaw tightened, and you could tell he was trying not to rise to the bait. “I’m not scared. I just don’t like surprises.”
“Well, too bad,” you said, wrapping the scarf around his eyes before he could stop you. He grumbled under his breath, but you could see the faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“You’re lucky I’m weak for you,” he muttered, his voice low and resigned. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you quickly brushed it off, tightening the knot of the blindfold. “You won’t regret this. Promise.”
He sighed dramatically. “I already regret it.”
You laughed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward the door. “Come on, leader of the Firelights. Let me lead you away to freedom.”
He followed reluctantly, grumbling the whole way, but you could feel the tension in his hand slowly easing as he let himself trust you. And deep down, you knew that despite his protests, he didn’t truly mind.
Ekko groaned softly as you guided him along yet another bend in the trail. The blindfold tied snugly around his head meant he couldn’t see where he was stepping, which made the journey feel even longer. His feet ached from the uneven terrain, and he couldn’t tell how far you’d dragged him from the hideout. “How much longer?” he asked, a playful but weary edge in his voice. “I’m pretty sure I’ve walked enough to circle Zaun twice by now.”
You laughed softly, your tone teasing. “Not much farther. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
He scoffed but didn’t pull away from your guiding hand. “You said that an hour ago.”
“Well, this time, I mean it!” you chirped, your excitement palpable. “And quit complaining. You’re a leader, remember? A little hike shouldn’t break you.”
Ekko grumbled under his breath but didn’t argue. He trusted you, blindfold and all. Still, his curiosity was killing him. The journey had been filled with faint sounds of nature, quite the opposite to the chaos of Zaun. The air was fresher here, the scent of greenery blending with faintly damp earth. Birds chirped somewhere above, and there was an unfamiliar stillness that made him uneasy in its serenity.
Finally, the sound of running water reached his ears. It was gentle but distinct, the rhythmic splash growing louder as you led him forward.
“Is that a waterfall?” Ekko questioned as he looked around blindfolded, listening with his ears.
“Nope,” you said cheekily, your grin audible in your tone.
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
The moment his boots scuffed against flat, smooth rock, you stopped. You squeezed his hand and stepped in front of him, your fingers brushing against the scarf as you untied the blindfold. “Okay, are you ready?” you asked, your voice playful.
“Depends,” he shot back. “Am I about to fall into a pit of snakes or something?”
You rolled your eyes. “Just hold still.” With a dramatic flourish, you pulled the blindfold away. “Ta-da!”
Ekko blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light. The sight before him was breathtaking. The waterfall cascaded gently down smooth stone, its waters pooling into a crystal-clear basin surrounded by moss-covered rocks. The greenery around it was lush, vibrant, and untouched, with delicate vines draping over the edges of the falls like curtains. Shafts of sunlight streamed through gaps in the canopy, casting a golden glow over the scene. It felt like another world. Like something out of a dream. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just taking it all in.
“Well?” you asked, bouncing slightly on your heels. “Do you like it?”
“It’s… something,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual. His gaze lingered on the water, the way it shimmered in the sunlight. “I didn’t know there were places like this between Piltover and Zaun.”
You smiled, feeling proud of yourself. “Told you it’d be worth it.”
He turned to look at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll give you that. But…” His expression shifted, concern creeping in. “Should I really be out here? The hideout—”
You cut him off, your tone firm but not unkind. “Ekko.”
He paused, his brow furrowing slightly.
“I’m serious,” you continued, your voice softening. “If you really feel like you need to go back, you can. I won’t stop you.” You hesitated, your hands fidgeting at your sides. “I mean… I’ll understand.”
He studied your face, noticing the way your eyes darted away as if you were trying to hide how much the thought bothered you. You were giving him a choice, but it was clear how much you didn’t want him to leave.
Ekko let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re really bad at hiding what you’re feeling, you know that?”
You glanced up at him, startled. “Who, me?”
“Yes you. But relax,” he said, his tone gentle. “I’ll stay.”
Your eyes lit up, and before he could say anything else, you were practically jumping in place, your joy spilling over. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said with a small chuckle, watching you with amusement. “Don’t make me regret it.”
You grinned, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the water. “You won’t. I promise.”
For the next two hours, the two of you wandered the area, exploring the hidden beauty of the place. The tension from earlier melted away, replaced by a comfortable ease as you talked and laughed together.
Ekko, ever curious, peppered you with questions about your life topside. “So, what’s it like being a noble?” he asked, kicking a stray pebble along the path. “I’m guessing it’s all fancy parties and expensive clothes?”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Not quite. Sure, there’s all the glamour, but it’s not as fun as it sounds.”
“Oh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
You sighed, nudging a rock with the tip of your boot. “My parents had this… idea of what the perfect daughter should be. Polished, obedient, always smiling. I never really fit the mold.”
Ekko tilted his head, studying you. “Doesn’t sound like you.”
“Exactly,” you said with a wry smile. “I was always too stubborn, too opinionated. They wanted me to follow their rules, and I wanted to make my own.”
“Sounds familiar,” he said, a hint of understanding in his voice.
You glanced at him, curiosity sparking. “What about you? Ever feel like people expect too much from you?”
He let out a short laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “All the time. Being the leader, people look to me for answers. For direction. It’s… a lot.”
You nodded, your heart aching for him. “And yet you never take a break.”
“Someone has to keep things running,” he said simply.
You stopped walking, turning to face him. “And what happens when you burn out? What then?”
He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, your words sinking in.
“See that’s what this is about,” you said gently. “You need to take care of yourself, too, Ekko. Not just everyone else.”
He looked away, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he gave a small nod, the vulnerability in his expression making your chest tighten.
Soon the peace of the waterfall was shattered by the faint sound of voices approaching. Ekko froze, his head snapping toward the direction of the noise. You followed his gaze, your heart sinking as the muffled conversation grew clearer. It wasn’t just random passersby. The tone was too low and suspicious.
“Get down,” Ekko whispered urgently, grabbing your arm and pulling you toward the water.
“Ow, hey-!” you hissed back, but before you could argue, he tugged you forward.
The two of you splashed quietly into the cool water, wading toward a large rock near the waterfall’s edge. Its size provided enough cover to hide you both, but your movements felt clumsy and loud in the stillness of the moment. Every splash made your heart race, and every breath felt too loud.
You crouched low, gripping the edge of the rock as you peered out cautiously. The voices were clearer now, distinctly rough and laced with malice.
“… shipments are in place. Should be an easy job if everyone keeps quiet,” one of the men said, his voice gruff.
“Easy? You think dealing with Piltover’s dogs is ever easy?” another sneered.
“Relax. It’s all set up. By the time they realize what’s happening, we’ll already be gone,” the first man replied with a dismissive chuckle.
Your ears were ringing, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making it hard to focus. Your breathing quickened, and the world around you felt distant, the voices blending into an indistinct hum. “Hey,” Ekko spoke quietly beside you, nudging your arm. But you didn’t respond, your mind spinning.
“Hey!” he whispered again, more insistent this time. He leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. Finally, his voice broke through the fog in your mind. You turned your head slightly, meeting his sharp gaze. Before you could say anything, his hand clamped over your mouth, silencing you.
“Don’t-” he mouthed, his tone firm but his touch surprisingly gentle. His eyes were steady, reassuring, even as they flicked toward the Chem-Barons’ direction.
You nodded, your breathing still uneven but quieter now. His hand lingered for a second longer before he slowly pulled it away, his fingers brushing against your skin. The tension between you was palpable. The closeness and adrenaline, it all made the space between you feel charged with something. You were about to whisper something when the sound of boots crunching against the rocky terrain snapped your focus back.
“Keep it moving,” one of the voices barked. “We’re wasting time.”
The group of men moved on, their voices fading into the distance. Only when the silence stretched did Ekko exhale, his shoulders finally relaxing. He peeked cautiously around the rock, ensuring they were truly gone before turning back to you.
“We’re clear,” he whispered, though his voice carried an edge of lingering tension.
You nodded, still crouched behind the rock, your limbs stiff from staying still for so long. Ekko moved toward the water’s edge and helped you climb back onto the bank. You followed his lead, water dripping from your clothes and pooling at your feet as you tried to steady your racing heart.
“Chem-Barons,” he muttered, more to himself than you. He looked toward the direction the men had gone, his expression hardening. “They’re up to something. And if they’re this close, it’s bad news.”
You wrung out your sleeves, watching him warily. “Do you think they saw us?”
“No,” he said firmly, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Still… we need to get back.”The urgency in his voice left no room for argument, and you agreed without hesitation.
The journey back to the hideout was tense. Ekko moved swiftly, his steps purposeful and his gaze darting toward every sound in the dense trees. You struggled to keep up, your thoughts spiraling as your footsteps lagged behind his.
What if the Chem-Barons had seen you? What if they followed you back? Your chest tightened as the weight of your continuous overthinking pressed down on you. You replayed the encounter in your mind, picking apart every detail. Had you been too loud? Too slow? What if something went wrong because of you?
“Keep up,” Ekko called over his shoulder, his voice low but urgent.
You blinked, realizing how far behind you’d fallen. Quickening your pace, you forced yourself to focus on his figure ahead of you, his steady movements grounding you in the moment.
When you finally reached the hideout, the familiar sounds of laughter and the hum of activity greeted you. The Firelights’ sanctuary seemed untouched, the chaos of the outside world unable to penetrate its walls. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. Ekko headed straight for Scar, who was leaning against a rusty table, tinkering with a small device.
“Everything okay?” Ekko asked, his tone sharp.
Scar glanced up, his brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah. Quiet as usual. Why?”
Ekko hesitated, his jaw tightening as he glanced over his shoulder at you.
“Oh nothing, just checking.” he said finally, though the tension in his posture remained. Scar gave him a curious look but shrugged, returning to his work.
You lingered near the entrance, your damp clothes clinging to your skin as you scanned the area. Everything seemed normal, the kids laughing, people working on repairs, the occasional drone zipping by. But you couldn’t shake the unease that had settled in your chest.
Later that evening, you sat by yourself in one of the quieter corners of the hideout, staring blankly at the firelight lamp in front of you. Your mind was still spinning, your earlier overthinking creeping back in.
“You okay?” Ekko’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to find him standing nearby, his expression softer now.
“Yeah,” you said quickly, though the tightness in your voice betrayed you.
He frowned, stepping closer and crouching down so he was at eye level with you. “You’ve been quiet since we got back. What’s going on?”
You hesitated, unsure how to put your thoughts into words. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about what happened earlier. What if we were seen? What if they followed us? What if—”
“Hey,” he interrupted, his voice firm but kind. “Nothing happened. Everything is fine. The hideout is fine.” You nodded, but your shoulders remained tense.
Ekko sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “Worrying until you exhaust yourself i see.”
“I just can’t help it,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
He sat down beside you, close enough that his knee brushed against yours. “Look, I get it. It’s a lot to deal with. But we can’t let them get in our heads. That’s what they want—to make us paranoid, to make us slip up.”
You looked at him, his calm determination grounding you once more. “I just don’t want to fuck things over for the millionth time.”
“You won’t,” he said simply, his confidence in you unwavering. For a moment, the tension between you eased, and you allowed yourself to breathe.
The night stretched on, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence. When Ekko finally stood, he stretched and yawned, his usual energy dimmed by the day’s events.
“Well, I’m gonna check on a few things,” he said, though his tone lacked its usual conviction.
You joking said, raised an eyebrow. “Here you go again, always busy.”
He smirked, his usual charm peeking through. “Says the person who can’t stop worrying.” You rolled your eyes but smiled. As he walked away, you found yourself watching him, your chest tightening with admiration. You couldn’t quite name why. The hideout was quiet now, most of its inhabitants having turned in for the night. You eventually made your way to your small corner of the space, lying down on your bed and staring up at the ceiling.
But sleep didn’t come easily. Your mind kept drifting back to Ekko. The way he had looked at you by the waterfall, the way his hand had lingered on your arm when he pulled you out of the water, the way he had stayed by your side despite everything. Ekko, it’s always him. He always even if you tried to deny it, has an affect on you. You sighed, closing your eyes and willing your racing thoughts to quiet.
A wind of cool night air hit you as you slipped out of the hideout. The faint scent of distant rain mixing with the scent of metal and smoke that always lingered in the air of Zaun. Ekko had been out helping with a situation that had gotten out of hand. It had something to do with one of the Firelights getting into trouble, as usual. He hadn’t been there to protest when you quietly slipped out of the hideout, and part of you was relieved. You needed to clear your head, to have a moment of peace where you didn’t have to think about the danger you constantly felt closing in around you. It slowly suffocating you. Unbearable.
You had heard rumors, of course. Whispers and murmurs of people coming after you because of who you were, because of your connection to the topside. They had no idea who you were, only what they thought you were. You couldn’t allow them to find out. But tonight, you weren’t thinking about that. You were thinking about how to live in the moment, even if it was fleeting.
The Last Drop was not your first choice, but it was the closest. The faint buzz of people laughing, drinking, and shouting hit your ears as you stepped inside. Your heart raced slightly, but you pushed it down. You’d taken precautions, after all. The cloak you wore concealed the colors of your family, the opulence that could mark you a target from a mile away. With your hood low, you blended in with the crowd, keeping your gaze focused on the bar, where the noise was loud enough to drown out any attention.
“Drink?” the barkeep asked, raising an eyebrow at you, the flickering light of the bar casting long shadows across his face.
“Something strong,” you replied, trying to sound casual, though your nerves were anything but.
A quick, hard drink was what you needed. You knew the risks of coming here. This wasn’t the safest place in Zaun, but it was the only place that wouldn’t ask questions about who you were. The clinking of glass and the murmur of conversation surrounded you, a blend of voices that blurred into one singular buzz in your head.
You let your gaze wander as you took your first sip. The bitter warmth of the alcohol spread through your throat, giving you a momentary sense of relief, but it didn’t last. Your eyes flicked to the edges of the bar, noticing the way people moved. There was a tension in the air, something off, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Your fingers tightened around the glass as the sensation of being watched crept down your spine.
Before you could dismiss the feeling, something sharp pricked your neck. You froze, the sensation like a needle pushing into your skin. A wave of dizziness hit you instantly, disorienting and deep. You jerked your hand to your neck, but there was nothing to see. No blood, no sign of injury. Just a strange, heavy heat creeping through your veins, seeping into your bloodstream, clouding your thoughts.
The world around you tilted. It was a slow shift at first, just a sense of things being slightly off, but soon it became overwhelming. The air felt thicker, the sounds louder, as though the entire bar was buzzing, vibrating against the space between you and them. Your chest tightened, and a cold sweat broke out across your skin. ‘No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not now.
Shimmer. You realized it too late. The telltale signs were unmistakable. That feeling where your body was being pulled apart, your thoughts slowly being smothered by a fog. You clenched your teeth, trying to fight it, trying to keep yourself from losing control.
“Hey, you okay?” a voice broke through the chaos in your mind. One of the patrons had noticed, a man with wild eyes and a drink in his hand. He was staring at you with concern, but you barely registered his words.
“I’m fine,” you said, though it came out more like a growl. You stood up quickly, the motion far too fast for your brain to follow. The room spun around you, the floor swaying beneath your feet like the deck of a ship caught in a storm. Your hands shot out to steady yourself against the bar, but it felt like everything was slipping away.
The bartender moved closer, his voice urgent. “You need to sit down. You’re not looking good.”
But you couldn’t. You couldn’t let them see you like this. You tried to move toward the door, but your legs wouldn’t obey. Each step was like wading through thick tar, the world warping around you. Your vision blurred, and before you knew it, you were on the floor, struggling to push yourself up, your limbs stiff and heavy.
“Help!” someone shouted, but the word sounded distant, muffled, as if coming from underwater.
You didn’t know what was happening to you anymore. The pain in your head started to intensify. No. Don’t lose control. But it was too late. The shimmer was already twisting your mind, and it wasn’t long before the voices began. They started quiet, like whispers in the back of your head, but soon they became clear.
Someone spoke your name. Your father’s voice.
“You never lived up to my expectations, did you?” The accusation burned in your ears. “Always the disappointment.”
You wanted to scream at the voice to shut up, to make it go away, but all you could do was stand there, shaking, your hands gripping the counter as you tried to steady yourself.
“You think you can escape me? No one escapes me,” your father’s voice mocked. “No one escapes their blood.”
The voices overlapped. Shut up. You couldn’t make out the words. You only felt the anger, regret, and shame. You felt like you were drowning in it. The voices kept yelling, taunting you, until you couldn’t tell what was real anymore. You swung at the air, trying to bat them away, but there was nothing there.
Why don’t you listen? You never do what I ask, do you?
Another voice, it was your mother now, cold and distant. “You’re useless to me. Always have been.”
The pain was unbearable. Your head throbbed as you sank to your knees, clutching at your skull, your fingers digging into your scalp in a futile attempt to stop the onslaught of voices. Get out of my head!
You screamed, but it was a scream that only echoed inside your mind. Your body trembled, and you stumbled backward, falling into the chaos that surrounded you.
“Someone get them out of here!” someone shouted, but it was like the words couldn’t break through the fog that had settled over your mind. You could hear them, feel them moving around you, but they were all far away. Then, another voice. This one was different. It was familiar.
“Hey, listen to me.” Ekko. His voice, clear and strong, cut through the chaos. You tried to focus on it, on him, but it was so hard. Your mind was a warzone. You gasped for air, your hands pressed against your chest, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of the shimmer. You looked around, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw him standing there, reaching out for you, but when you blinked, he was gone.
Your vision darkened, the last remnants of the shimmer clouding everything. You couldn’t stand anymore. You collapsed against the ground, your breath ragged as the world spun out of control.
“Ekko…” you whispered, but you weren’t sure if you said it out loud or if it was just another hallucination. The voices faded as everything went black.
part two soon!
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cupidsdolll · 6 months ago
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The Feeling Came Late
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Prologue
pairings: grumpy!college student!Harry x fem!sunshine!reader
summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?
overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this tbh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.
chapter .5/? (wc: 1.5k)
masterlist
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Fond memories ignored, thrown away in a second as if they meant nothing to him. Like the years of laughter were all just a dream, but they’re not. They were real and it drove him crazy. Harry only stared at the wall, face red and tears streaming down his face angrily. He didn’t know what to do, he was lost. He was angry, angry at the world, at himself because that was his best friend and at her. 
He was just a boy, a kid when it happened. Happy in his “prime years” of high school, he was thriving academically and socially. He was on top of his class work and one of the top students in all of his classes, alongside his childhood friend. They stayed friendly whenever they competed against each other, giving their congratulations when the other won in anything. Harry enjoyed the thrill of trying to be the first one to turn in his assignment though, he enjoyed the friendly banter they shared afterwards and during. It became their normal, he looked forward to it. 
Then it happened, and he was left broken. A shell of the smart and extroverted boy he once was. He can remember every detail of that day, he had just come home from hanging out with his childhood best friend – they had just gotten done studying and finishing the last episode of the season of their favorite TV show – when his mom walked alongside with him. The ride back home from her house to his was silent, filled with a sense of sadness and Harry couldn’t understand why she wasn’t happy. His mom was happy when she dropped him off at school that morning. She sat him down in their living room and said that this was important, and told him. She kept apologizing and trying to reassure him that everything was being done, tried, efforts were being done. They were going to fix this, help him. 
Of course, Harry’s just a kid who’s already dealing with all the new emotions of puberty and teenage feelings, so he screamed at her. Yelled something along the lines of “No, you’re lying and I hate you” but that’s still up for debate, he doesn’t think of this day often. He’d stormed away from her crying figure, her apologies are no good to him, won’t make everything better. He cried, screamed and threw things. He destroyed his room, tearing down pictures and throwing trophies, his vision was blurred from all of the tears in his eyes. He hated himself, it wasn’t his fault though. Nothing he could’ve done would have changed what happened, he couldn’t have stopped it. He knows that deep down, but he has to put the blame on someone, and it only makes sense that it has to be him. 
When he calmed down some, he’d taken all of his pictures off the wall, he couldn’t look at all of the times he was happy. It only reminded him of the feeling in his chest, and he stashed them all away in a box to be kept in his closet. Out of sight, out of mind he hopes will be the cause, but he kept two pictures. He couldn’t bear to have them forgotten, even if they were going to be locked away still. They were special, the people in the picture were special. They’ll always be special, so he cried some more as he placed them in his nightstand drawer. He spent the majority of the night crying, the tears seemed never ending and he hated it. He ignored his mom calling him for dinner and his sister who knocked on his door to check on him. She only sighed and reminded him that she loves him and will be there for him if he needs anything before she left him alone and headed back to her own room. 
Over time, he changed. It wasn’t gradual though, it was very noticeable. He stopped trying to compete with her, stopped trying to be the first anything. He stopped raising his hand, stopped putting efforts into presentations and powerpoints, stopped caring. He started getting into weed, he refused to try any of the harder stuff – not like his friends would give him any, they still had somewhat good morals and he also tried drinking. (A good thing about having older friends is the easy access to these types of things.) He stopped wearing soft and colorful clothes and started wearing darker clothes, jeans with rips in them and short sleeved shirts tight enough to showcase his growing muscles. He worked out more, wasn’t the lanky little boy she used to know anymore, his language expanded, started using more curse words and his tone grew disinterested and mean.
 He knew she watched him from a distance with sad eyes, he knew she tried to help him. He listened from his doorway as his mom talked to her, saying any excuse she can think of to not worry the little girl. 
‘Harry’s just not feeling very good, dear.’ ‘Harry’s just tired, he’s had a long day.’ ‘You know teenage boys can be difficult dear, he’ll come around soon,’ and other excuses were told to his friend when she came to check on him. He couldn’t exactly make out what the girl was saying in response to his mom, she’s always been such a soft speaker, and it upsets him more. He just wants to be left alone and she cares so much for him that she just want to help in any way,  and he doesn’t want to be rude and tell her to fuck off so he has his mom deal with it. She’s the emotional support thinker, not him. 
After a couple of minutes he hears the door shut so he closes his bedroom door and sits back on his bed, the two pictures laid out on his bed as a reminder of the love for his two closest friends, but also as a reminder of the pain he feels and the tears shed over something that wasn't his fault, the blame he put on himself. He sighs sadly as he looks at them once more before he gathers them and sets them in his nightstand drawer. He tries not to look at those pictures too often, he hates how they make him feel. Any time he looks at his best friend’s photo, it fills him with overwhelming sadness, bitter and hurtful. It fills his chest and makes him feel like he’s drowning in sadness, there’s sometimes a hint of anger but that’s never at him. It’s always directed towards himself, not his friend. He could never be mad at him, he was the closest guy friend he’s had and will ever have, he won’t have another one. When he looks at hers, it used to be happiness, love and adoration but it’s turned into anger and  jealousy. Her name will always leave a bitter taste in his mouth, his lips will always turn into a frown at the fleetest thought of her. 
He hates her, hates how smart she is, how she’s always somehow better at everything than him even when he spent hours working on something. He loathes how she just always knows what to say. He hates how she never fell off or even wobbled off the hill she was on no matter what was going on in her life. He dislikes how much he wishes he could be like that. He abhors how much even though he wants nothing to do with her right now that he still longs to be those little kids playing together and studying and gossiping. He especially hates how deep down he hopes that she’ll wait for him or beg for him to let her in, how he actually wants her to fight for their friendship. He loathes how much he misses her.
Instead of acting on those terrible ideas in his head on rekindling their friendship, he focuses on his popularity. High school ends and during the summer he experiments with his look, becomes a ladies’ man and immerses himself in that. He enjoys sex, the feeling of it all. The intimacy of something shared between two people, the feverish kisses and the sounds of his partners enjoying themselves. It’s a very good distraction from the one person who doesn’t seem to leave his mind. His reputation as a ladies’ man and a very skilled person grows, he becomes popular not only with the ladies in school but also with the fellow jocks of the school. He dabbled a little bit in the sports aspect of his education, he also tried out for the soccer team at his school. He’s always loved the sport, even as a little boy, something about the running and kicking balls amused him. He was also a pretty fast learner which helped his case a lot, but he still passed. He dabbled in a lot of different sports, not wanting to tie himself down to just one thing which applied to multiple different areas in the boy’s life. He tried anything to rid himself of one of the two names that haunts him no matter what.
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thebylertheory · 4 months ago
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"If you think El doesn't need to end the show in a relationship and she can be happy without one, then that goes for Will too" here's why you're wrong.
The reason why it's different for Will, whether you like it or not, IS because of his sexuality. Homophobia and Will's belief that he'll never find romantic love because of him being gay is a core part of his character. Romantic love, or the lack thereof, has been an important part of his story for at least the past two seasons. He already has an abundance of love from his friends and family. He's not lacking on that part. But he wants romantic love. That is what he desires. They have made that clear. And they have gone out of their way to show us that he wants that with MIKE. And they have even taken it a step further and shown us why Mike and Will would be good together. They bring out the best in each other and they make one another feel good about themselves. So, for them to do all of that and then end the show by reaffirming Will's belief that he was right and he's never going to find love because he's gay is a very cruel and pointless ending for his character. He has suffered enough. He should be allowed to end the show with the boy he loves and believing that he's worthy of that type of love. He deserves to have the relationship he's always wanted and thought he would never have.
Romantic love has never been an important part of El's story. Since season 1, she has been trying to find a family/home and she has been trying to find out who she is in a world she was isolated from since birth. That is the most important part of her story and character. Her relationship with Mike has never been the main focus. In fact, she does better and she thrives more and she sees the most development as a person when her and Mike are separated. They have shown us that their relationship holds her back and that they're not good for each other. They don't make each other feel loved or good about themselves. Now, that's not to say I don't think El should EVER be in a relationship. She can! But a romantic relationship, especially one with Mike, is not as important to her story as it is to Will's. In fact, a relationship with Mike has done more bad than good for her. She doesn't NEED romantic love or a relationship with Mike for her happy ending. Her happy ending can consist of her just being able to live comfortably with her family and knowing who she is and feeling confident in her identity. That ending is what will be the most fulfilling for her character.
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foodiegoogie · 2 months ago
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request for james potter x sunshine gf? like yapper x yapper <3
note: thank u for requesting my sanny angel <3 i was so excited to write this when i got ur req hehe :P thanks 4 being so patient as well !! hope u like this :P
paint me a picture
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james potter x fem!reader ✮ 2.2k cw/tags: established relationship, that ‘couple paints each other’ trend on tiktok, MOO DENG CAMEO, tooth-rutting fluff mayhaps? and a lil crack :>
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If you were ever put in a situation where you’re stuck in a room full of complete strangers, chances are that you’d strike up a conversation with one, two, or a handful of people no matter how off-putting they might seem as a stranger. You had a knack for talking people’s ears off, your mouth running faster than your brain ever did—spewing word after word before you could even finish your train of thought. 
Frankly speaking, you were well-aware that your talkativeness came across as annoying to most people. It was a hard pill for you to swallow, because you really, really liked to talk to people. You thrived in sharing your interests and whatever it was that came to your mind with other people. But the pressure was immense, and society—cruel, so you had to make do and shut your mouth if you could handle it. 
When you met James, however, it was like one of those cliché moments in movies—the ones about destiny and fate and soulmates. Because who knew that you’d find your match in being a chatterbox in someone as charming, and lovely as him? 
James Potter, in all his bumbling, comical, and boyish glory, did not stray away from you from the very first sign that gave away your talkative nature. 
And it appeared that he wasn’t planning on ever doing so in the near future. 
“Oh, but have you seen the one of her biting that zookeeper’s leg? She’s so adorable– I can’t!” You gushed as you filled in the gaps of James’ uncolored ears—the James in your portrait, not your actual James—with brush strokes of warm, chocolate brown paint.
The real-life James who sat across from you chuckled softly at your enthusiasm. “I know, right? She’s a little troublemaker, that one. I’d steal her away if I could.”
“Me too, me too,” Your vehement agreement amuses your boyfriend. “Gosh, what I wouldn’t give to have a hippo as a pet!”
James’ nose wrinkles, as if in distaste, at your statement. “Wouldn’t that be hard though? They’re always covered in mucus, and they’re always underwater. Hippos are a little high-maintenance if you really think about it.” 
“Respectfully, James, I never asked for your opinion.” 
James’ mouth hangs open in shock, his hand frozen as it holds a paintbrush in front of his own canvas of his portrait of you. 
“I can’t believe you’d say that to me,” He fakes a sob, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought we had something special, love.” 
You sigh, going along with his act. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, Jamie. You know how I feel about pets.”
“So that’s just it, then? You’re leaving me for a hippopotamus?” James cracks his voice at the end of his lamenting, hand flying up to cover his mouth, suppressing his “sobs.”
It was getting admittedly hard for you to keep up the act, though. But you persevere.
“It’s nothing personal, James. I swear,” Your voice wavers at the end, the start of an uprising laughter in your throat.
“Do you, actually?” 
You count what seems to be like five seconds of you and your boyfriend just staring at each other. It was almost as if James was challenging you to break. Ironically, you were starting to think that you were going to. 
But then he beats you there as you watch his face split into a wide grin, his canines doing nothing to quell his boyish handsomeness. Your boy always looked good, but he looked especially nicer when he was happy, smiling. 
Laughing, too, most of all. James had the kind of laughter that sounded like a wind chime when a breeze passed by, making you feel light and floaty as if on a cloud. He also had the kind of laughter that you just couldn’t help but join in, and share the moment with him.
“Absolutely nothing,” was what he would say whenever you asked him what you wanted to do together. 
But if you asked him what you’d want to talk about? James would say, “Absolutely everything.”
“Now I can’t remember what I was supposed to do!” You exclaimed, your laughter dying down to soft, involuntary chuckles as the lighthearted air of James’ relentless quips lingers between you both. “If my portrait turns out wonky, I’m blaming you.”
James’ grin could only grow with pride. He always loved to make you laugh. “Hey, that’s not fair. I only asked if–”
“No, don’t start again!” You rushed to stop him, pursing your lips to contain yourself.
“I haven’t even said anything,” He beamed at you, unashamed of how cheeky he was being. 
“You were gonna!” 
Your boyfriend shakes his head resolutely, pushing his glasses up his nose with a careful finger. “No, I wasn’t!”
“Top ten things a liar would say.”
James scoffs, affronted. “Top ten things an unfair person would say.”
You tut, shaking your head disapprovingly. “You need to come up with your own comebacks, you know.”
“Well, hey– it’s not my fault I decided to date the loveliest, most creative, most swell girl ever in the entire world,” Your boyfriend reasons, his million-dollar smile ever present on his lips.
You feel your face grow warm by his words. Even after a year (and counting) of being with James romantically, you could never quite get used to his praising you. But that had been the deal—if you couldn’t get used to it, then he’d have to do it more often so that you would eventually get used to it.
So, you clear your throat, returning your attention back to the task at hand: painting a portrait of your boyfriend. James can see right through your feigned indifference, but mirrors your actions with his own painting. 
“‘Swell?’” You place the finishing touches of your painting of James on your canvas. There’s colours of red, brown, orange, yellow, and all its shades from the most subtle to the most vibrant. You’re not really a painter, you’re more of an appreciator of paintings. But you hoped that the message would get through to your boyfriend—to you, he was love and warmth personified. 
He shrugs in response, eyes glimmering with mirth as he works on his own portrait of you. You couldn’t help but wonder what he had drawn and painted of you. The anticipation was high. “Yeah, you’re swell.” 
“Where’d you get that from?” 
“Er,” James scratches behind his ear with his free hand. “Sirius.”
You couldn’t help but smile. “I knew it.” 
Your boyfriend spares you a glance over his canvas, and you meet eyes with your smiles mirroring each other. James hears you snicker as you turn back to your painting, and the dimples in his cheeks deepen.
“Alright, I think… I’m done,” You lean back against your chair, observing your portrait of James with criticising eyes—though not necessarily criticising the muse of your painting, but rather the painting you’d done yourself. 
Real-life James from across you makes a humming sound. “I think… I am, too.” 
“So, who’s going first?” The pair of you chorus, then laugh.
“Ladies first?” Your boyfriend asked.
You consider it for a moment, eyes never leaving your painting as you continue to observe it. You were afraid of mucking it up further than how messy it looked now to you, so you refrain from making any more adjustments. 
“Uh… no. I think it’s best if you go first,” A rueful smile graces your lips. 
James sighs, and you just know he’s downplaying his own efforts before the painting is even shown to you. “Alright, then. Here we–”
“—Also because I think we should save the best for last,” You rushed to say, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him.
Your boyfriend’s eyes go comically wide, and as you do your evil cackling, he scoffs indignantly. “I see how it is. Well, feast your eyes upon my greatest creation of all time–!”
James grabs his canvas by the sides with careful hands, then flips it around so the front of his painting is finally facing you. 
Behind the canvas, the artist—your boy—has his gaze fixed on your face, waiting for any sign of a reaction. In truth, he’d be devastated if you didn’t crack a smile or gasp! “This is amazing, James! I love you with my whole heart!” 
But he’s also aware that he wasn’t Van Gogh or Picasso, so he should be cutting himself some slack. But damn it all if he doesn’t get your stamp of approval on his painting of you—the most beautiful work of art he’s ever seen. 
Said “beautiful work of art he’s ever seen” now sits across from him, rendered speechless—which was out of the ordinary, so you had James worried. You did expect something “humble” to come out of his work, something worth placing in the Louvre museum that would rival the Mona Lisa, and something you’d both argue over like, “James, this is amazing!” and he’d respond, “Nah, I could do better.” 
Well, your expectations were met, but they had exceeded you by a lot. A lot, a lot. 
The background of the portrait is painted in a pastel, sky blue colour, adorned with symmetrically shaped clouds in white. And there’s that sun in the corner of the canvas, a smiley face drawn on it, too—a staple in a child’s painting. 
But it didn’t stop there; alongside the clouds were some painted flowers. There were daisies, your favourite. Tulips, also your favourite. There were little bees and butterflies and hearts all around, there was so much going on in the background of the painting that you didn’t know which to pay attention to.
Though you did know, realistically, which to pay attention to. It wasn’t in the birds and the bees painted haphazardly across the background—in the middle of the painting was a rather messier variant of you. You in your candid, cozy glory, donning your jumper. The curve of your jaw, the size of your eyes. James had managed to capture you in your likeness. You could see yourself in the painting. 
Most of all, however, you’re speechless of the fact he’d managed to capture you beautifully. Have you always looked like this to him? Is this what he sees every time he looks at you? Is this what he sees now as he looks at you?
“Erm, do you–“ James clears his throat, his fingers drumming against the sides of his canvas as he held it up in front of you. He was anxious because you still hadn’t shown any reaction whatsoever in the span of half a minute. “is it that bad?” 
A lighthearted jest. Probably to dissuade the brewing anxiety in his mind from your lack of a reaction. His leg was already starting to bounce restlessly from under the table. He’s thankful that you’re unable to see that, at least. 
“‘Bad?’” 
“Yes, ‘bad.’” A beat passes. “Is it?” 
You shake your head at once, having gathered your bearings after all. A smile slowly starts to make its way onto your face. “It’s not bad. Not at all, James, this is–“ 
James doesn’t know what to do now, if he’s being honest. He wishes you could just come out and say it in his face that he was a trash painter, and that his portrait belonged in the dumps. He’d rather that than wait in agony—
“It’s so nice,” You finally manage to say, your voice dripping with fondness for him. His heart skips a beat at the sight of your smile—all sweet and pretty and lovely, so lovely. So loving. 
“Really?” James gains a smidge of his confidence back with your reactions. “You like it?” 
“Like it? I love it!” You abandon your chair, rounding the table to tackle him into a hug, planting a loud smack of a kiss on his cheek. “You made me look so pretty! Best boyfriend ever!” 
Said boyfriend feels like he could melt in your arms right now, but he returns your affections by tightening his own arms around your waist, pulling you down so that you sit on his lap. 
“‘Best boyfriend ever?’ Now that’s a title I can get behind,” He chuckles, grinning widely up at you as you did the same at him. Two birds of a feather, their love mirrored in one another’s eyes, and hearts. 
Long story short, when you show your portrait to James, he makes sure to let you know that he loves it. Absolutely, indubitably adores it. He declares that he’ll frame it and hang it up in his room. He’ll contact local historians to let them know that, “Hey, I think we’ve got another revolutionary artist in our time and it’s my girl.” 
(He also makes a few comments of how you “didn’t quite get his nose right” and how “his hair looked exaggerated in your painting” and that that was “hair-racist.” What?)
At the very end of your date night, the pair of you decide to paint another picture—a third to add to your collection—but this time around, it included the two of you, with a grubby look of a house beside you both, three other little people, some dogs here, some cats there, and then some. 
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ty for reading \( ̄︶ ̄*\)) likes, replies, n reblogs r always appreciated !! <3
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phntmeii · 1 year ago
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♡ Dating Bo and Vincent Sinclair Headcanons:
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❝ She always said your talent would make up for what God took away from you. ❝
[SFW Headcanons]
Pairings: Artist!Reader x Vincent Sinclair. FemBimbo!Reader x Bo Sinclair.
Warnings: Slight pervert!Bo Sinclair, Mentions of kidnapping+murders, Manipulation.
A/N: Sinclair Twins are some of my new favs. They are so delectably made I can’t- So here are headcanons BUT with describing what their specific types are instead of keeping it vague. Also, I view Vincent as a selective mute who’s vocal chords are a bit fucked up so he only speaks a few times a day so not a complete mute.
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Vincent Headcanons:
✎ Vincent hasn't had any dating experience so much of what he knows is from what Bo has told him which didn't make it interesting in his eyes. But when he sees you, all he wants to do is admire you for whatever reason.
✎ He’d specifically go after you and be the first victim he’d kidnap rather than outright kill.
✎ He tries to convince you he isn’t dangerous (to you) and does little things to prove it. Showing off his drawings, playing music for you, writing notes and letters to you.
✎ Vincent would honestly come off strong because he doesn’t understand how fast or slow a relationship to go. The moment he spotted you, you were already his in his mind.
✎ When you fall for him despite his masked face and silent behaviors, you adjust and get used to him. After all, he wasn’t bad at all. He’d keep you in his room which was tidy and neat as his mother taught him, he’d make sure you were completely taken care of and he was sweet in his little notes.
✎ Vincent’s handwriting is perfect as he was taught to do. His notes would be a little formal but adorable things to find before he slinks away to his studio. “Hello, Y/N. I hope you are adjusting well. :) I wanted to know what foods you like so I can tell Bo to make them. Please write back before lunchtime.”
✎ When he discovers you were an artist as well, he was giddy and excited! Someone who knew what it was like to cycle through ideas and fixate on a project for hours on end.
✎ His few words he’d speak a day would be regarding your own art. No matter what it was, he’d tell Lester to get you the supplies for it and watch over you as you worked.
✎ His ragged and hoarse voice spoken into your ear. “Beautiful…”
✎ He’d randomly gift mini wax sculptures of your favorite animals each week that he worked on between sculptures. Each one better and better than the last.
✎ Vincent thrives on your praise. Sweet boy can’t help but lower his head and blush under his mask at each compliment.
✎ His favorite thing about morning routines were when you’d touch and brush his hair. The massaging at the scalp and tingly feeling he’d get as the brush ran down his black strands felt all too good. He’d also let you do whatever hairstyle you wanted.
✎ Vincent would draw you constantly in his sketchbook. He has pages and pages of different angles of your face, what clothing you wore on a certain day or how you posed during breakfast.
✎ Any and I mean ANY sketches you give him in return? He’s holding onto it like it’s pure gold. He hangs it in his studio where he’s at the most to view it all the time.
✎ Trusts your critiques and observations more than anyone else’s and often asks for your opinion on his pieces.
✎ Doesn’t believe that you like his face without the mask but when he sees you present him with a sketch of his half-mutilated face, he’s stunned. To see him, the truest version of him, as something you deemed worthy to spend time depicting absolutely melts him. He starts to become more willing to remove his mask around you especially if it means he’ll get more drawings like that.
✎ Bo would want so badly to tease Vincent for how he acts around you since Vincent is absolutely infatuated but Bo and Lester find it adorable and are happy Vincent found someone despite everything.
✎ He would definitely want to do those heart hands or hand holding wax molds with you and keep it on his desk.
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Bo Headcanons:
> This man’s perfect woman has to be a bimbo, I’m sorry. Someone who is perfectly stupid to overlook some toxic qualities to him and won’t suspect any of his more… violent hobbies.
> Doesn’t have to be the stereotypical busty, all-pink wearing bimbo but just a pretty but airheaded girl.
> He’d originally plan on killing you when you showed up saying your car broke down. You were pretty but so were some other victims who had come through Ambrose. But that dumb factor? Oh, now he’s all in.
> Absolute charmer and reels you in and away from the rest of your group. He’d keep making up reasons as to why you should stay for longer than lie about where your group went.
> He’d keep you sat in the gas station, seeing you so easily entertained. He’d put on that charming smile and tuck your hair behind your ear. “Seems like everyone left you behind, sweetheart. How about you stay jus’ a bit longer, hm? Still need to fix up that car a’ yours, don’t we?”
> He does absolutely use your ditzy and air-headed nature to his advantage to tease because who is he if not a teasing charmer?
> “Aww, sugar, there ain’t much goin’ on in that pretty little head a’ yours, is there?”
> He has purposefully done something to make you trip so he can catch you and make it into a whole romantic scene.
> Absolutely brags to Vincent and Lester about how perfect his girlfriend is.
> He cannot get enough of you at the end of the day. He may have gone into it looking to just use you but consider yourself a charmer as well because he’s soon completely enraptured.
> He enjoys watching you get ready in the morning. Bo will get distracted himself and end up just watch you do your makeup for ten minutes, admiring how pretty you look for him.
> NOTHING BUT PRINCESS TREATMENT!!! He can be toxic and a tease but he likes to be a gentleman too.
> He’s kneeling to put on your shoes on for you, kissing up your leg as he does. He keeps a hand on your back to guide you as you two walk together. Don’t even think about paying for anything because his hand is already in his pocket, ready to pay.
> Bo spoils you rotten. He can’t help it when you smile so sweetly at him that it’s honestly unfair. Sometimes it’s stuff at the store other times it’s stuff he stole from a victim before they met their end. You wouldn’t know, of course, so it’s always a sweet thing.
> If he’s buying you clothes, he’s picking out the tightest options so he can see your body constantly. He’s already turned on constantly by you but he wants to have you all dolled up for him always.
> Although sometimes it can be annoying to have you be so oblivious, he resists any direct insults or rude names since he knows you’ll take it to heart. He never wants to see you upset.
> He knows how much you love his Southern accent and dials it up to 11 with sweet pet names when he needs you for something.
> “Sweetheart, do me a favor an’ pass me the wrench? S’got the blue handle, honey, you know which one.”
> Favorite thing he’s seen you do is when you stole his clothing and became a mini-Bo. Wearing his hat and a jumpsuit all proud of yourself and he couldn’t help but chuckle and claim you should dress like that more often so people know you’re all his.
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⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune
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geekgirles · 1 year ago
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Just Look My Way
Can we please talk about the way the lyrics have changed from the original to showcase Stolas' growth and character development?
I was already surprised that what originally looked like it was just going to be a fan video ended up becoming canon content, but when I heard the different lines my mind exploded, you guys.
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Note the difference, the major difference, in treatment!
In the original version, which released back in season 1 but before Ozzie's, Stolas' line was actually:
"Come now, my little impish plaything, we've both made our choice."
Keep in mind the original most likely included this line as a reference to what both Striker and Stolas said in regards to Blitzo's relationship with Stolas. Even our dear owl boy referred to him as just a plaything while saving him from D.O.R.K.S! Which most likely only helped cement Blitzo's internalised belief that Stolas would never see him as anything other than a cheap thrill.
Here, however, Stolas is cementing him as his dearest! A loved one! Someone he values and cares for! That is a huge difference from being just a sexual partner!
And the second line. OMG, THE SECOND LINE.
Unlike the original, where Stolas speaks of a choice that, realistically, was never there (as it usually is the case with relationships where there's a power imbalance and, moreover, were born out of transactional needs), this time he is reaffirming Blitzo's agency and independence. The implied choice is clear: Stolas will present the asmodean crystal to him so he no longer relies on his Grimoire and sleeps with him out of necessity. All that's left for Blitzo now will be to choose if he wants to remain by Stolas' side even then. And the choice is his.
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As a quick aside, I also love the constant symbolism between Blitzo and the Moon.
Technically, compared to Stolas and the Earth, both are just satellites, nowhere near as important as a Goetia demon and member of Hell Royalty or a planet brimming with life and where beauty and wonder happen at every corner. And yet, without them neither can thrive. Stolas is as fascinated and dependent of Blitzo as the Earth is with the Moon. Without the Moon, there's no tides; it brings inspiration and romance to countless souls, brightening the night sky, just like Blitzo brightens Stolas' life.
Blitzo is Stolas' moon, and I just think that's beautiful.
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Every word in this line in particular just oozes character development, too.
The original was:
"What's left for me in this broken house if I cannot have you?"
This is no longer about Stolas using Blitzo to escape his boring routine and his horrible marriage to Stella, it's about Stolas being deeply and hopelessly in love with Blitzo and not knowing what to do to convey that in a way that will reach him.
Once again, Blitzo has stopped being a mere plaything or boy toy and become so much more. He has become an essential part of Stolas' life he doesn't know what he'll do without but knows he'll have to let go of if that's what Blitzo wants!
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Now, I must admit I am not exactly a fan of this change in these particular verses. On the one hand, I understand it's meant to reflect Stolas is trying to understand Blitzo and see things from is point of view, but I also feel it robs the moment of the raw feeling the original conveyed:
"Is this how she'd feel? Abandoned, all alone, left to fend for herself, for a semblance of happiness that doesn't have to end?"
"She" clearly referring to Via.
I just think it would have been more powerful to keep it and allow that juxtaposition between the most important people in his life to help Stolas understand Blitzo better. After all, he loves them both dearly and unconditionally, but his actions have also hurt them both very deeply.
I just think it'd be fitting if one allowed him to understand the other better.
Nevertheless, if there is something this song has taught me, is this: we are so not ready for the next episode.
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checosbluespring · 10 months ago
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racing hearts → op81
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oscar piastri x plus size!fem reader
genre: drivers room smut, established relationship
cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), praise kink, dirty talk, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything
word count: 2.7k
song: cupid's chokehold- gym class heroes
sidenote: hi everyone! finally the new fic is here and it's an oscar one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic because i don't have a plan for the next one haha. also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3
♡♡♡♡
Silvertone made you nervous, don't get me wrong, all of Oscars races made you incredibly nervous but it wasn't often you were in the paddock watching in person. He was doing good, no matter how he did you were always proud of him, but it was nice to hear him over the radio sounding happy. Your nerves got the best of you, and you found yourself shaking your leg and biting your nails, before it got worse you decided a little walk around the paddock would be calming. 
You and Oscar had been dating a little over two years, and those two years had been amazing. You remember his year as a reserve driver and all the hesitation that he felt. You remember when he first got word about getting a spot in f1 and the tears of joy that fell down your face when he told you. You remember every big and little moment that has impacted your relationship. 
Before dating, you guys were friends, you were getting your masters degree in London and happened to be friends with one of his friends. Everything kinda felt like fate, when you first met him you had been so shy, of course you had heard about the hot shot f2 driver, and of course you had been nervous. A part of this nervousness and shyness you felt was because you were worried how he would react to you being a bigger girl. 
To your surprise Oscar was amazing to you. And over the next couple of moments as he was pursuing you, he did not shy away from being affectionate.
You would like to say the rest was history but it wasn't, that your relationship had its ups and downs. Oscar wanted to go public with your relationship, it was you who had told him we should hold off. You knew how people would react and this was his first year in f1, you didn't want to add to that stress. People would bombard him on his social media posts, interviews would ask questions, you couldn't do that to him. After all he's worked for. Truth be told you would like to show your affection to Oscar in public, to be able to hold and kiss him after a good quali or a podium, but you knew how mean the internet could be and you couldn't do that to him or yourself.
The sound of the cars pull you out of your trace and you figure it was time to head back to the garage and watch. You felt a pit in your stomach, he was doing good, and only a few laps left but anything could happen. With the final lap you see he finished 4th, you were extremely happy for him. But in the back of your mind, you knew Oscar would be mad. Mad that he was so close to a podium. Despite that you couldn’t wait to hug and congratulate him. 
The garage was crowded, roars and screams echoed in your ears. The team was proud of their 2nd and 4th finish. And while no one knew why you were there or your intentions, you couldn’t help but feel extremely proud of both boys. 
You knew it would take Oscar a while to finish his debriefing, post race interviews, and just overall navigating the garage. You took it upon yourself to sneak into his drivers room and wait until he’s done. Walking in see a small picture of you and him nestled away near his backpack.
A sudden jolt of possessiveness, and just overall happiness rings through you. At the end of the day you couldn’t believe Oscar and you were together. He was the most amazing, caring and loving person you could’ve ever imagined to have. You knew you had to do something when he came into the room to cheer him up because, even though fourth place was an incredible finish, Oscar always thrived for more. 
You make yourself comfortable, slipping off your shoes and putting your hair in a ponytail. You looked through the tiny closet that was in the drivers room, where he said he would leave a larger hoodie for you to wear after the race if it was cold. It was the little things like this that made you love him even more. While you weren’t the type of girl who could wear his hoodies or shirts because they were too small on you. He made the extra effort to give you what you wanted. 
While waiting, you came up with the most amazing idea, you and Oscar had a pretty active sex life. You were both young, what could you say? it was always pretty difficult during practice days and qualities to find time alone with each other but today you decided you were going to plan something special. 
You found yourself getting excited at the idea, crossing your legs you try to create some friction to hold yourself off until Oscar gets into the room, but luck was not on your side today, and it took two more hours until Oscar finally entered the room, looking exhausted, flushed and sweaty. 
His hair was damp and sticking to his forehead. Just how you liked it when his hair was down. His pretty eyes sparkled at you, but through his smile, you could tell he was disappointed and sad.
“Hi baby, how was debrief?” you questioned
“Same old, same old just took longer to get out because they wanted to strategize on how we can get a one-two next race. Are you ready to go? I’m exhausted, starving and I need to shower desperately.”
Before you can nod, you remember the plan you had made a couple hours earlier. He might be too tired to do anything, but all you can do is try.
“Why don’t you sit down for a minute Osc, we can get you changed out of your fireproofs, and wait a little while traffic is still dying down. Here let me order us some food to be delivered back to the hotel for later on” 
You quickly get on your phone and order his favorite post race meal, a chicken burger with sweet potato fries. You opt out and get yourself something different. After placing your order, you start to grab his change of clothes that he brought with him. When you are face to face in front of him, you see Oscar looking up at you with the most fondest eyes, and quiet smile. 
Oscar wasn’t the most romantic person in the world, but just by existing he made up for it. Nonetheless he never strayed away from complimenting you.
“Have I told you, you are the best girlfriend in the world, you take such good care of me”
“You’ve said it once or twice but I wouldn’t mind hearing it more” you wink as you slowly start to take off his undershirt. You take the liberty to also take off his pants, so you kneel down in front of him and start to pull off his boots one by one. This felt extremely intimate and it left you with a flushed feeling.  
You gesture him to lift his hips so you could pull off the remaining part of his fireproofs that were pooled loosely around his waist. Once he does this you shimmy them down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers. 
“You did so good today baby” you said while rubbing your hands up and down the tops of his thighs.
“You raced so well. You don’t know how proud I am of you. My rookie, my baby, you are so perfect Osc, my one and only”
You see a tint of red cover his cheeks and nose. This was something you guys have been experimenting more with, you being dominant. You weren’t gonna do that today. Tonight you just wanted to let him know how good he was. You slowly see a tent pop up in his boxers
“Oh my, my, Oscar what’s this, do you like hearing how good you are? Well you are, you are so good” 
Instead of replying, Oscar tries to hide his face with his forearm. That just won’t do.
“Oh no no no, don’t hide yourself from me, isn’t that what you always tell me”
He slowly removes his forearm to look down at you. 
“Baby can I please suck you off, want to show you how proud I am”
He nods his head yes and lets out a tiny please. 
That’s all you needed to hear before you slide his boxers off. His pretty pink cock springs free, red at the tip, angry looking and dripping. Oscar had the prettiest cock you had ever seen, to be fair you had only seen a couple in your life but his was so pretty. Average in length, maybe a bit below, but thick, pale with a pink tinge to it. Oscar left things pretty natural in the hair department but that never bothered you. Everything about him just made sense. 
Your mouth instantly drools at the sight of it, laying across his tummy. You spit in your right hand and grasp it at the base, and slowly drag your hand up his shaft. You look up to see Oscar’s eyes slowly flutter close. A tiny breath leaves his mouth. You decided now was the time to praise him some more.
“You have such a pretty cock Oscar, fucks me so well, fills me up in the best way possible. No one has ever made me come the way you do, you take such good care of me, let me do the same for you”
With that you bring your head down to softly lick the head, swirling your tongue around the tip, you dip your head down and lick a long stripe from the base of his cock all the way to the tip and fully take the head into your mouth. 
Oscar’s hands were gripping the couch as hard as he could, trying to keep the moans at a minimum, the driver room walls were very thin. Oscar was usually on the quieter side, but you don’t know what possessed you to say this.
“Don’t hold back, be loud love, I want everyone to know how good I’m making you feel, want everyone to know I’m in here worshiping your cock”
“Fuck y/n you have such a dirty mouth” he whined. 
You giggled and brought your cheek down to nestle his cock. Grabbing it firmly you slap it against your face leaving a slight sting. You couldn’t help but look up at him as you did this, he was staring down at you, mouth agape. 
“I left your cheek all red” he muttered, you could sense he felt a little bad because of it. You couldn’t have that.
“Good, want us to walk out here knowing just what we did” and even though you know when you walked out people would think you were a McLaren worker because of your outfit, you couldn’t help but feel excited walking out into the world knowing you had just done what you did with thee Oscar Piastri. 
Oscar is fully back in your mouth again, hash breaths and tiny moans are coming from the man above you. Bobbing your head up and down you try your best to fully take his entire length. It was hand because he was stretching your mouth so wide with his thickness. You focus your tongue at the head, swirling and moving your tongue back and forth at the spot the connects the tip to the base. That brings out the biggest moan from him. You immediately look up to see his eyes are shut close and his lip looks like it’s about to start bleeding from how hard he’s biting it.
Continuing to focus on the head, you bring your hand down to his balls and cup them. You softly rub and massage them. You knew once you did this Oscar would finish soon.
“Want you to fuck my mouth, want to feel it for days after you leave London, want to remember how good you fuck my throat” you say to him with eyes that were begging.
“Are you sure baby? Don’t want to hurt you”
“If you hurt me I’ll slap your thigh, but trust me I want this”
He nods and grabs the back of your head to place you back on his cock. He starts slow, hand loosely grabbing the back of your head, guiding you softly. You try to relax your throat, because soon he starts to pick up his pace. Instead of the soft hold, he is harshly grabbing your hair, using it to move you up and down. You do your best to still use your tongue despite Oscar moving you at a very fast pace. 
“Fuck I’m gonna come soon” he whispers
You knew he was close to the edge by the way the thick vein on the underside of his cock was throbbing. You look up at him the best as you could and nod, hoping he got the message to finish in your mouth. In all honesty, you wanted him to come all over your face but you still had to walk through the paddock to his car. 
His hips start to stutter and he stops moving your head, arms fallen to his side. He lets out a loud groan and you feel the warm white liquid flood your mouth. You swallow and open your mouth to show him. He also groans at this, cupping your face he bring you up to connect you both in a kiss. It was a sweet kiss, no tongue, nothing crazy, just sweet.
You smile at him and stand up, you know you are drenched but you didnt want to do anything else in this room. Oscar may be able to be quite, but there so guarantee with you.
“Want me to eat you out” Oscar asked with his face in your neck as you sat next to him. 
“No, you can fuck me later if you are up for it, but we should be going soon, the food is probably going to be delivered before we get there”
He nods “Where did you learn to talk like that” Oscar asks as he puts on his new pair of boxers.
“I don’t know what you mean, I was just speaking the truth” you wink.
He gives you a uhhuh look and continues to get dressed. You look at yourself in the mirror and you don’t completely look disheveled. The slight redness on your cheek was still there but you wanted that. You dug in Oscar’s bag for a piece of gum and popped it in your mouth. You both get ready in silence. As you are about to leave you stop him.
“You do know I am genuinely proud of you, and I can’t wait to see how much you grow and succeed, I love you.” You say and kiss his cheek. 
“I love you too, you are the most amazing and beautiful girlfriend ever, I can’t wait for people know you are mine”
Something overcame you. You grab his hand and nod, if someone finds out and spreads it, you could care less. You were tired of hiding this. You see the smile and lead the way out of the drivers room.
Hand in hand you both walked down the paddock, you were proud of your boyfriend. No more being scared. He deserves this and more. His hand was warm and you knew everything was right. You had no doubt in your mind that next season you would both be back here but celebrating a podium instead. 
♡♡♡♡
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mythicmanuscripts · 4 months ago
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SUB!AEMOND HEADCANNONS
Hello lads! Sub!Aemond lives rent free in my brain so I have decided to dump some head cannons for my thoughts on it. If you like what you read here, would like me to expand on some thoughts or would like to request an imagine/blurb, then check out my blog!
Needless to say, NSFW content under the cut.
Aemond tries to seem dominant at first, especially when you first met him. But that is very much just a facade. The first time you kiss, you give his hair a little pull and he whines and whimpers and just melts.
The moment you give him an order, no matter how small, he will do it instantly. Like, he'll be pretending to be in control but then you ask him to pour your wine and instantly he's doing it, and slapping the servant's hand out of the way when they go to do it because you asked him!!
Once he's done whatever you asked of him, he looks at you. He tries to seem indifferent, but he's watching you very closely to see your reaction, he can't relax until you've thanked him and praised him. If you don't praise him, he will think that he did badly.
Speaking of praise, he THRIVES on praise. From the first time you complemented him, he's hooked. Even the smallest complement or praise will make him struggle to hide his smile.
Also, once you start to praise him regularly he just... stops caring about what anyone else to say about him? He's not trying to impress Allicent or Otto anymore, not at all. As long as you're happy with him, he needs absolutely nothing else.
He LOVES being manhandled? He never expected to like it, until one day you're kissing and you just kinda move him to whatever position you want and just melts. He loves it, he will let you do whatever you want with his body.
I actually don't think it would take very long for Aemond to submit and be vulgar? And I think this because I think that the moment you start to praise him and support him he just... he's hooked. You call him pretty and walk away and instantly he's running after you, not wanting to without you for even a moment.
He's so desperate for that love and affection that when you offer it he just can't resist, and then couple that with you actually taking charge and telling him what to do? Marriage. Marriage right now.
alright alright let's do some real NSFW absolute filth now
the day Aemond discovers he can make you cum by giving you head is the day Aemond discovers his new favourite pass time.
Not only it is just very enjoyable for him but he gets to please you?? He gets to please the person who loves him and takes care of him?? He has that person moaning his name?? God he needs it.
He will beg to give you head, will cry and whimper and shake if you tell him to fuck you immediate. He only stops whining when you promise he can use his tongue to clean you up after.
He loves when you're rough, push him against the wall, pull his hair, choke him. He just melts under your touch.
However, and this is very very very important, absolutely no humiliation. None. Zero. He can't handle that, he lets you manhandle him because he knows you love him. Treat him harsh while saying the sweetest things. Call him your sweet pretty boy while choking him.
He loves to vent to you about his day, but he wants to do it between your thighs. Aemond's ideal way to end the day is to crawl into bed, licking and sucking you to his heart's content while he complains about how fucking stupid the small council is every time he takes a breath.
I have more thoughts but this is already longer than I thought so let me know if you want more!
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love-belle · 1 year ago
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i want sweet revenge and i want him again !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them ignoring their feelings and making the worst decisions.
or
for when they will always be your summer love. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // pierre gasly x fem!reader
sequel - you were my summer love ⋆·˚ ༘ *
warnings - language
author's note - posting this at 3am bc i have midterms from monday and it's very unlikely i'll post again this month 💔💔💔💔 i love u all so much thank u for reading <3
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liked by gracieabrams, charles_leclerc, conangray and 789,725 others
yourusername "get him back!" is finally out!!!! i wrote this song in my car after breaking down over the consequences of my own actions and getting yelled at by my twitter girlies <3 summer was fun i had fun we all had fun but the aftermath is not pretty so fuck them boys u all stay happy and thriving hydrated!!!! get ur sweet revenge and get him back!!!!! but fr pls tell his mom her son sucks ❤️
8,628 comments
username there's too much going on idk what to decipher first
username the caption omg 💀💀💀
username her captions never fail to blow me away like girl 90% of these things do not belong here 😭😭😭😭😭
username not her telling us to get our man back but also tell his mom that her son sucks
-> username top tier advice idc
username THE SONG'S A FUCKING BOP OMG
username those lyrics are so her and him coded like 💔💔💔💔💔
charles_leclerc don't call me weird
-> yourusername this is so unprovoked get out
-> username nah what the fuck is charles doing here 😭😭😭😭
-> username CHARLES????
username "bc everyone knew the guy was missing a screw" BABE LET HIM GO!!!!!!!!
username THE TEXT OH MY GOD
username i miss her and that dude ngl
-> username no bc they were so cute together 💔💔💔
-> username why do men ruin everything 😐😐😐😐😐
username "i can fix him" GIRL YOU ARE WORSE THAN HIM
-> yourusername UNCALLED FOR
username i fucking love her and her fans so much like the way we're all js best friends with her and she's sooooo in touch with her fans ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
-> yourusername not true u all js bully me
-> username bc u make stupid decisions
-> yourusername ://
username y/n having beef with 80% of her fans will never not be funny to me like wdym ur FANS bully u
-> yourusername i have proof and im not afraid to use it
-> username "proof" and it's literally just her being a dumbass and us having NORMAL reactions to it
-> yourusername FURTHER PROOF UR HONOUR
username so MUCH for summer LOVE and saying US cause u weren't mine to LOSEEEE
username this is sooo 2000s romcom coded idc
landonorris WEIRD??? ME???
-> yourusername GET OUT OF MY COMMENTS SECTION THIS ISN'T ABT Y'ALL
-> username what the fuck is doing on
-> username im so out of loop wtfff
username "i want sweet revenge and i want him again" unhinged behaviour fr
username every time we think she's healing she comes back and writes a song that's basically a BIG cry for help like girl pls we're getting tired 💔
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liked by pierregasly, formulaone44, lec1ercc and 79,728 others
paddock.club rumours have been swirling around pierre gasly and his anonymous girlfriend, who's affectionately called 'augustine' by his fans, and their alleged break-up for weeks now. the said rumours were confirmed as gasly was seen out in monaco and he certainly wasn't alone — or with just one consistent company. "this may confuse some people but they were very different from each other," sources close to the couple claimed. "after summer break ended, it felt like so did whatever they had going on." this comes as a shock as despite knowing almost nothing about augustine, fans adored her and they're devasted about the end of their summer love. click on the link in our bio for everything that we know about their relationship.
comments are disabled for this post
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pierregasly you're trippin'
9,638 comments
username NAH THE AUDACITY OF M*N SOMETIMES
username BROTHER IM STILL RECOVERING FROM THE AUGUSTINE REVEAL SLOW DOWN
username HELLO???????? HE'S SEEING SOMEONE???????
-> username "he said i was the only girl but that js wasn't the truth"
username the fact that he used HER lyrics for his caption like..........im SICK rn
username when 😭 i 😭 told 😭 him 😭 how 😭 he 😭 hurt 😭 me 😭 he 😭 told 😭 me 😭 i 😭 was 😭 trippin 😭
username im actually in shock rn like my jaw is on the FLOOR
landonorris caption 😬
username no bc im here thinking like she called his friends weird 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 that's why charles and lando were so offended in the comments 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username boy she's over there listening to summer love by one direction WHAT R U DOING
username that's not y/n in the last slide and im throwing up rn i need them BACK
username need this all to be a nightmare bc i cannot fucking do this anymore 💔💔💔💔
username it's on SIGHT when i see u on streets
username im so 💔💔💔💔💔
username y'all i feel bad for bullying y/n bc if i were her i too wouldn't move on from this man
-> username fr like we gave her sm shit for being in love with him and im like "girlypop same omg"
-> username real like i see what she saw
charles_leclerc nice choice for caption 👍 very strong words 👍
username here for charles and lando calling him out for the caption like yasss kings ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ do ur work ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username y/n needs to be more cunty rn bc this is so wtf
username L caption 🤣🤣🤣🤣🫵🫵🫵🫵
username im gonna miss their summer love era so much like we were FED ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username "and when he said something wrong he'd just fly me to france" WOW OKAYYYY
username something about his last post before this being all about augustine and their summer and now this one is basically shading her like 💔💔💔💔💔
username everyday we stray further away from good
username ripping my hair out why cant bitches be happy ffs
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formulafics · 1 year ago
Text
★ JUST MY TYPE | LN4
Scenario: in which lando norris’ history with his new teammate leads people to believe they don’t like one another, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. (requested)
Pairing: lando norris x male!reader
A/N: we need more rep for male readers 🙌🏻 had so much fun making this one and as per usual, shout-out to @renarots for fueling this
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⌕ www.formulatimes/ynlnmovestomclaren
Anyone who’s an up-to-date F1 fan knows all about this rivalry, but just in case you don’t, here’s a quick rundown.
It all started in their karting days. Every race they would go wheel to wheel, and often finish right behind the other. They pushed each other, both metaphorically and physically. In one race, a desperate attempt to overtake YN saw Lando Norris taking himself out of the race.
A few years later, the two would be promoted to Formula One, in which Lando signed to Mclaren, and Yn signed to Alpine - a mistake, if you ask me…or any other fan of his. That being said, it wasn’t Yn’s first choice. Mclaren was openly considering Lando Norris AND Yn Ln, but ultimately chose to sign Norris, with Daniel Ricciardo occupying the second seat. This only fed into their rivalry.
During their rookie year, they fought at the back of the pack as they learned the reigns of F1, but as Norris improved throughout the seasons, Yn was left behind. There’s a lot to unpack in regards to that, but in the simplest of terms, his team has constantly prioritized Pierre Gasly, their second driver, despite him being the inferior talent between the two. We’ve seen this happen with other teams, and that never ends well.
All of that leads to this shocking revelation: Yn Ln is joining the Mclaren Formula One Team. While we can’t say for sure how this will play out, we can speculate. Will they move past their differences and become the ultimate team? Or, will they become the next brocedes?
Published: December 12, 2022
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yn_ln
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liked by landonorris, pierregasly, maxfewtrell, logansargeant, and 234,761 others
yn_ln new year, new start. thanks @/mclaren and @/landonorris 🧡
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maxfewtrell so happy for you man. you deserve it.
landonorris happy to be teammates with you (finally)
⤷ yn_ln 🫶🏻
⤷ landoland FINALLY?
⤷ rizzciardo lando fans finding out that he and yn are actually really good friends: 😱🤯 they’re one step away from being boyfriends
mclaren great job in bahrain, yn! 🧡👊🏻
ynsworld THATS MY BOY ‼️ so proud of you yn, this is gonna be such a good year for you.
norrisnation i may be a certified lando lover, but i would die and kill for yn.
⤷ landonorris same
papayabull LETS GO I WAS PRAYING FOR THIS DAY (i was manifesting yn to redbull but this works too)
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lando.jpg
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liked by yn_ln, maxfewtrell, charles_leclerc, riabish, and 245,652 others
lando.jpg when in australia…
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yn_ln rate my photography skills on a scale of 1-10
⤷ lando.jpg 10
⤷ yn_ln wrong. its 12.
⤷ lando.jpg right, my fault. suppose you should open a jpg account of your own in that case
maxfewtrell where was my invite?
⤷ lando.jpg so you could complain about third wheeling?
⤷ landomania AYO? what do you mean by that?
⤷ amgmclaren don’t read into it too much, that’s how it is with lando and all of his teammates
teamyn these are my babies and they’re thriving. i love them &lt;;3
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racing.news
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liked by mclaren, f1, and 12,345 others
racing.news lando norris has addressed the rumors regarding his relationship with his teammate. norris, 24, said “at the end of the day, i like who i like. i don’t want to put a label on it. it being my sexuality and my relationship with my teammate - those are private matters and have nothing to do with formula one.”
what are your thoughts?
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norrisnation i just hate that they’re wrapped up in this. even if they are dating, i wish they could just be left alone.
rizzciardo we do not give a fuck about them dating. let people love people without questioning their shit 24/7
landomania FORGET WHAT LANDO SAID LOOK AT HOW HE’S LOOKING AT YN IN THE FIRST PICTURE
maxfewtrell my thoughts are that people should mind their business, politely
⤷ norrisnation SPEAK YOUR TRUTH KING 🙌🏻 we love to see you supporting and defending them
⤷ maxfewtrellstappen I LOVE YOU 😭
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mclaren
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liked by yn_ln, landonorris, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell, and 345,628 others
mclaren PAPAYA PODIUM 🤩🧡 an absolutley outstanding performance from our drivers today.
view all 6,543 comments
yn_ln super fun day. thank you guys 🧡
ynsworld anyone else noticing that yn seems less happy lately?
⤷ norrisyn YES BRO 😭 it hurts bc he was so happy at the beginning of the season after alpine fucked him over
⤷ ynlandolover honestly i think it’s bc of the rumors. imagine being there to race and all anyone can do is ask about your sexuality and relationship AND most of the questions are clearly judgemental
⤷ papayabull yeah, i feel for yn :( i hope the rumors and shit chill down bc he doesn’t deserve it
rizzciardo they’re so in love it makes me sick
⤷ norrisnation literally 😭 even if they’re just friends, they have so much love for each other and it’s obvious
verstappensboy was 100% certain they were gonna kiss
⤷ formulanorris ain’t even gonna lie, i feel like they considered it for a second. maybe i’m teaching but between their posts, rumors, landos statement, etc, i feel like they are dating
⤷ formulayn honestly same, but i’d avoid speculation online just in case they see it. they both want to keep the details private and we should respect it yk?
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landonorris
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liked by yn_ln, maxfewtrell, mclaren, riabish, alex_albon, and 345,621 others
landonorris i like who i like, and i stand by that. i won’t put a label on my sexuality, but i do want to be clear that yn is my boyfriend, and i couldn’t ask for a better human being to take that position in my life. i love you forever, @/yn_ln
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maxfewtrell love you guys. so sorry the media didn’t let you do this on your own terms.
*liked by yn_ln and landonorris*
yn_ln i love you so fucking much
⤷ landonorris i love you more
norrisnation we love you so much, lando. 😭 i’m so happy for you both omg
mclaren 🧡
rizzciardo COUPLE OF THE FUCKING CENTURY
formulanorris lando be honest was this a photo shoot you did? and if so, are there more pictures?
⤷ landonorris ….maybe
⤷ ynland HAND THEM OVER PLEASE I BEG
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yn_ln
my type - saint motel
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liked by landonorris, alex_albon, georgerussel63, and 212,345 others
yn_ln what really happened in monaco 🤭
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landonorris you’re just my type ;)
norrisnation GOD BLESS YOU FOR THESE PICTURES YN
formulayn this is so hot of yn and lando im ngl
⤷ rizzciardo retweet
ynsworld POWER COUPLE.
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all feedback is appreciated! thank you for reading 🫶🏻
general taglist | @renarots @jsjcue @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @minkyungseokie @treehouse-mouse
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livelaughloveluffy · 22 days ago
Note
Hi HELP uhm this is my first time um asking but like idk if you do requests but uhm I was wondering if you could do luffy comforting reader on their period,, perchance... if not that totally finee ❤️🤑 I hope you have a great day or night I also enjoy your writings alot they r so sweet and they make me happy ,, okay bye 🥷
comfort - monkey d. luffy
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a/n: firstly!! thank you so much for your request!! im so happy you enjoy my writing!! 💗 this was definitely well timed since i was planning something similar to your request!! i hope you like this!!! you have a great day/night as well!!! 💗💗💗
nothing but fluff here! 💗
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when he comforts you:
-luffy is the sweetest boy and the second he picks up on you feeling slightly off, he's all over you. clinging to your body, asking you hundreds of doting questions. the phrase "are you sure?" is something you are destined to hear millions of times because luffy does tend to miss some social cues and he really want to make sure he understands how you're feeling because you mean the world to him 😭
-this baby will do anything and everything to make you smile. silly faces galore, bad puns and jokes, you name it, he's done it. it breaks his heart to see you without a smile, or to not hear the sound of your laughter.
-his simplistic and naive nature unironically makes luffy give the best advice 💀 he doesnt even do it on purpose, he just has a way to instantly comfort and ease you. "everything will work out!!! im here for you!" he'll tell you with the sweetest smile and his signature laugh
-he's a clinger, he'll hold onto you super tight, wrapping his legs around your waist with his arms dangling around your neck giving you constant cuddles. his soft raven hair tickling your cheek as his chin rests on your shoulder, his warm soft skin radiating through your clothes. he doesn't want to leave you alone and physical reassurance is so extremely natural to him.
-luffy is for sure a praiser. you've heard hundreds of thousands of reminders of how amazing, kind, smart, funny, cool, thoughtful, etc. you are. he showers you with words of affirmation as often as possible
-when you're sick, injured, or on your period: he's such a worrier 😭😭😭 he absolutely refuse to leave your side at all, no matter how much you protest and say you're fine. luffy will 100% crawl into your bed, pulling you into his arms, wrapping them two times too many around your waist, holding you close to him. he's always down to get you plenty of snacks, as long as you promise to share, however this often ends up with sanji barging into your room chasing after luffy, with his arms holding half the contents of kitchen pantry. you are his favorite snack buddy after all 😌
when he needs comforting:
-physical touch is a huge comfort to luffy, he will constantly need your hands all over him, your body pressed against him, kisses peppered across his skin, any and all physical contact instantly relieves him.
-he definitely appreciates it when you steal extra food and snacks for him, or sweet-talking sanji into making special desserts that you then pass to luffy.
- luffy does thrive off of hearing praise, so its a great relief to him when he hears you tell him how he's doing a good job, he's a great captain, and other similar sentiments.
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a/n: luffy's my sweet boy and i love him so near and dear to my heart 😭😭😭 i'm thinking about starting a taglist, so if anyone is interested in that just let me know!!
a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!
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