#or at the very least avoid those parts of tumblr

[raredrop]

full offense but i wonder why some ppl are here when it comes to tumblrs type of humor and they just do not click with it

like someone will make a joke in the replies and they'll be like so serious about it and be like "i hope the government kills you actually" like.....bro......why dont u go elsewhere

[yeoldenews]

A Guide to Historically Accurate Regency-Era Names

I recently received a message from a historical romance writer asking if I knew any good resources for finding historically accurate Regency-era names for their characters.

Not knowing any off the top of my head, I dug around online a bit and found there really isn’t much out there. The vast majority of search results were Buzzfeed-style listicles which range from accurate-adjacent to really, really, really bad.

I did find a few blog posts with fairly decent name lists, but noticed that even these have very little indication as to each name’s relative popularity as those statistical breakdowns really don't exist.

I began writing up a response with this information, but then I (being a research addict who was currently snowed in after a blizzard) thought hey - if there aren’t any good resources out there why not make one myself?

As I lacked any compiled data to work from, I had to do my own data wrangling on this project. Due to this fact, I limited the scope to what I thought would be the most useful for writers who focus on this era, namely - people of a marriageable age living in the wealthiest areas of London.

So with this in mind - I went through period records and compiled the names of 25,000 couples who were married in the City of Westminster (which includes Mayfair, St. James and Hyde Park) between 1804 to 1821.

So let’s see what all that data tells us…

To begin - I think it’s hard for us in the modern world with our wide and varied abundance of first names to conceive of just how POPULAR popular names of the past were.

If you were to take a modern sample of 25-year-old (born in 1998) American women, the most common name would be Emily with 1.35% of the total population. If you were to add the next four most popular names (Hannah, Samantha, Sarah and Ashley) these top five names would bring you to 5.5% of the total population. (source: Social Security Administration)

If you were to do the same survey in Regency London - the most common name would be Mary with 19.2% of the population. Add the next four most popular names (Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah and Jane) and with just 5 names you would have covered 62% of all women.

To hit 62% of the population in the modern survey it would take the top 400 names.

The top five Regency men’s names (John, William, Thomas, James and George) have nearly identical statistics as the women’s names.

I struggled for the better part of a week with how to present my findings, as a big list in alphabetical order really fails to get across the popularity factor and also isn’t the most tumblr-compatible format. And then my YouTube homepage recommended a random video of someone ranking all the books they’d read last year - and so I present…

The Regency Name Popularity Tier List

The Tiers

S+ - 10% of the population or greater. There is no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. 52% of the population had one of these 7 names.

S - 2-10%. There is still no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. Names in this percentage range in the past have included Mary and William in the 1880s and Jennifer in the late 1970s (topped out at 4%).

A - 1-2%. The top five modern names usually fall in this range. Kids with these names would probably include their last initial in class to avoid confusion. (1998 examples: Emily, Sarah, Ashley, Michael, Christopher, Brandon.)

B - .3-1%. Very common names. Would fall in the top 50 modern names. You would most likely know at least 1 person with these names. (1998 examples: Jessica, Megan, Allison, Justin, Ryan, Eric)

C - .17-.3%. Common names. Would fall in the modern top 100. You would probably know someone with these names, or at least know of them. (1998 examples: Chloe, Grace, Vanessa, Sean, Spencer, Seth)

D - .06-.17%. Less common names. In the modern top 250. You may not personally know someone with these names, but you’re aware of them. (1998 examples: Faith, Cassidy, Summer, Griffin, Dustin, Colby)

E - .02-.06%. Uncommon names. You’re aware these are names, but they are not common. Unusual enough they may be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Calista, Skye, Precious, Fabian, Justice, Lorenzo)

F - .01-.02%. Rare names. You may have heard of these names, but you probably don’t know anyone with one. Extremely unusual, and would likely be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Emerald, Lourdes, Serenity, Dario, Tavian, Adonis)

G - Very rare names. There are only a handful of people with these names in the entire country. You’ve never met anyone with this name.

H - Virtually non-existent. Names that theoretically could have existed in the Regency period (their original source pre-dates the early 19th century) but I found fewer than five (and often no) period examples of them being used in Regency England. (Example names taken from romance novels and online Regency name lists.)

Just to once again reinforce how POPULAR popular names were before we get to the tier lists - statistically, in a ballroom of 100 people in Regency London: 80 would have names from tiers S+/S. An additional 15 people would have names from tiers A/B and C. 4 of the remaining 5 would have names from D/E. Only one would have a name from below tier E.

Women's Names

S+ Mary, Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah      

S - Jane, Mary Ann+, Hannah, Susannah, Margaret, Catherine, Martha, Charlotte, Maria

A - Frances, Harriet, Sophia, Eleanor, Rebecca

B - Alice, Amelia, Bridget~, Caroline, Eliza, Esther, Isabella, Louisa, Lucy, Lydia, Phoebe, Rachel, Susan

C - Ellen, Fanny*, Grace, Henrietta, Hester, Jemima, Matilda, Priscilla

D - Abigail, Agnes, Amy, Augusta, Barbara, Betsy*, Betty*, Cecilia, Christiana, Clarissa, Deborah, Diana, Dinah, Dorothy, Emily, Emma, Georgiana, Helen, Janet^, Joanna, Johanna, Judith, Julia, Kezia, Kitty*, Letitia, Nancy*, Ruth, Winifred>

E - Arabella, Celia, Charity, Clara, Cordelia, Dorcas, Eve, Georgina, Honor, Honora, Jennet^, Jessie*^, Joan, Joyce, Juliana, Juliet, Lavinia, Leah, Margery, Marian, Marianne, Marie, Mercy, Miriam, Naomi, Patience, Penelope, Philadelphia, Phillis, Prudence, Rhoda, Rosanna, Rose, Rosetta, Rosina, Sabina, Selina, Sylvia, Theodosia, Theresa

F - (selected) Alicia, Bethia, Euphemia, Frederica, Helena, Leonora, Mariana, Millicent, Mirah, Olivia, Philippa, Rosamund, Sybella, Tabitha, Temperance, Theophila, Thomasin, Tryphena, Ursula, Virtue, Wilhelmina

G - (selected) Adelaide, Alethia, Angelina, Cassandra, Cherry, Constance, Delilah, Dorinda, Drusilla, Eva, Happy, Jessica, Josephine, Laura, Minerva, Octavia, Parthenia, Theodora, Violet, Zipporah

H - Alberta, Alexandra, Amber, Ashley, Calliope, Calpurnia, Chloe, Cressida, Cynthia, Daisy, Daphne, Elaine, Eloise, Estella, Lilian, Lilias, Francesca, Gabriella, Genevieve, Gwendoline, Hermione, Hyacinth, Inez, Iris, Kathleen, Madeline, Maude, Melody, Portia, Seabright, Seraphina, Sienna, Verity

Men's Names

S+ John, William, Thomas

S - James, George, Joseph, Richard, Robert, Charles, Henry, Edward, Samuel

A - Benjamin, (Mother’s/Grandmother’s maiden name used as first name)#

B - Alexander^, Andrew, Daniel, David>, Edmund, Francis, Frederick, Isaac, Matthew, Michael, Patrick~, Peter, Philip, Stephen, Timothy

C - Abraham, Anthony, Christopher, Hugh>, Jeremiah, Jonathan, Nathaniel, Walter

D - Adam, Arthur, Bartholomew, Cornelius, Dennis, Evan>, Jacob, Job, Josiah, Joshua, Lawrence, Lewis, Luke, Mark, Martin, Moses, Nicholas, Owen>, Paul, Ralph, Simon

E - Aaron, Alfred, Allen, Ambrose, Amos, Archibald, Augustin, Augustus, Barnard, Barney, Bernard, Bryan, Caleb, Christian, Clement, Colin, Duncan^, Ebenezer, Edwin, Emanuel, Felix, Gabriel, Gerard, Gilbert, Giles, Griffith, Harry*, Herbert, Humphrey, Israel, Jabez, Jesse, Joel, Jonas, Lancelot, Matthias, Maurice, Miles, Oliver, Rees, Reuben, Roger, Rowland, Solomon, Theophilus, Valentine, Zachariah

F - (selected) Abel, Barnabus, Benedict, Connor, Elijah, Ernest, Gideon, Godfrey, Gregory, Hector, Horace, Horatio, Isaiah, Jasper, Levi, Marmaduke, Noah, Percival, Shadrach, Vincent

G - (selected) Albion, Darius, Christmas, Cleophas, Enoch, Ethelbert, Gavin, Griffin, Hercules, Hugo, Innocent, Justin, Maximilian, Methuselah, Peregrine, Phineas, Roland, Sebastian, Sylvester, Theodore, Titus, Zephaniah

H - Albinus, Americus, Cassian, Dominic, Eric, Milo, Rollo, Trevor, Tristan, Waldo, Xavier

# Men were sometimes given a family surname (most often their mother's or grandmother's maiden name) as their first name - the most famous example of this being Fitzwilliam Darcy. If you were to combine all surname-based first names as a single 'name' this is where the practice would rank.

*Rank as a given name, not a nickname

+If you count Mary Ann as a separate name from Mary - Mary would remain in S+ even without the Mary Anns included

~Primarily used by people of Irish descent

^Primarily used by people of Scottish descent

>Primarily used by people of Welsh descent

I was going to continue on and write about why Regency-era first names were so uniform, discuss historically accurate surnames, nicknames, and include a little guide to finding 'unique' names that are still historically accurate - but this post is already very, very long, so that will have to wait for a later date.

If anyone has any questions/comments/clarifications in the meantime feel free to message me.

Methodology notes: All data is from marriage records covering six parishes in the City of Westminster between 1804 and 1821. The total sample size was 50,950 individuals.

I chose marriage records rather than births/baptisms as I wanted to focus on individuals who were adults during the Regency era rather than newborns. I think many people make the mistake when researching historical names by using baby name data for the year their story takes place rather than 20 to 30 years prior, and I wanted to avoid that. If you are writing a story that takes place in 1930 you don’t want to research the top names for 1930, you need to be looking at 1910 or earlier if you are naming adult characters.

I combined (for my own sanity) names that are pronounced identically but have minor spelling differences: i.e. the data for Catherine also includes Catharines and Katherines, Susannah includes Susannas, Phoebe includes Phebes, etc.

The compound 'Mother's/Grandmother's maiden name used as first name' designation is an educated guesstimate based on what I recognized as known surnames, as I do not hate myself enough to go through 25,000+ individuals and confirm their mother's maiden names. So if the tally includes any individuals who just happened to be named Fitzroy/Hastings/Townsend/etc. because their parents liked the sound of it and not due to any familial relations - my bad.

I did a small comparative survey of 5,000 individuals in several rural communities in Rutland and Staffordshire (chosen because they had the cleanest data I could find and I was lazy) to see if there were any significant differences between urban and rural naming practices and found the results to be very similar. The most noticeable difference I observed was that the S+ tier names were even MORE popular in rural areas than in London. In Rutland between 1810 and 1820 Elizabeths comprised 21.4% of all brides vs. 15.3% in the London survey. All other S+ names also saw increases of between 1% and 6%. I also observed that the rural communities I surveyed saw a small, but noticeable and fairly consistent, increase in the use of names with Biblical origins.

Sources of the records I used for my survey: 

Ancestry.com. England & Wales Marriages, 1538-1988 [database on-line].

Ancestry.com. Westminster, London, England, Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1935 [database on-line].

[mickyschumacher]

Im not sure if your request are open but if they are- a fic with Lando based off the song lose control by Teddy swims. Angst and smut, the whole works😩

But if your request are not open and you see this I hope you have an amazing day/night 🫶

(also I absolutely love your writing. Binge read majority of them the first day I got tumblr and I’m obsessed)

[LOSE CONTROL!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando had ended things on a good note... or so you thought. you didn't expect to find him at your front door begging for a second chance. or in which lando doesn't know when to give up.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), mentions of magui (not a fan of what she's done but this is fiction), angst, jealousy, cheesy confessions, unprotected sex (pretty please use protection), teasing, slight-public roleplay? breast play, eating out, fingering, oral sex, p in v, cumming inside, mentions of crashing, technically infidelity on lando's part, poor humour, fluff, and poor proofreading.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: ex-fwb!lando norris x fem!reader, special appearances: magui corceiro and joão felix.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 9k+

𝐀/𝐍: first of all so sorry for taking this up so late! my bad... but it's done! in time for my 2k special! yes that's right, there are two thousands of you little buggers reading my work! i'm ever so grateful, especially because i'm the most inconsistent person i know! thank you for putting up with me, for reading my work, and for your cute little comments. they all make me very happy in such a tough time i've been going through. sending you my ever grateful love from the bottom of my heart ♡︎ p.s it's my 100th post shocker!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

"I miss you."

Lando's voice was always like this. Slightly croaky and brittle yet warm and full of need. For you it was a sort of drug. It always pulled you in, it blurred the line between wrong and right, and you always came back for more. And when it was paired with those brown tinged blue eyes of his and all the freckles on his face, you were a goner.

"Lando," you sighed, leaning on your door frame. It was one in the morning. You were asleep but ever so gracefully woken up to the consistent ring of your doorbell. You rubbed your face with an exhaustion not familiar to your slumber but familiar to the antics of Lando himself. The words fell from your lips in an eased flow. "You can't be here. You don't miss me. You need to leave."

You tried to avoid his pained eyes but everywhere you looked, you met them in some shape or form.

"But I do miss you. I miss everything about you. Your smile, your lips, your body, your laugh, fuck, everything."

You blinked slowly, wondering how you had got here. How is it that the decisions and choice you made in life lead to Lando Norris pleading at your front door at one in the morning?

Ah...

There was an answer to that.

As the story goes, around a year ago, you were with Lando. 'With' was a loose term. It was supposed to be friends with benefits. You had been for almost a year by that point. Naturally, the only rule to being friends with benefits was to not fall in love with each other. And as natural as that rule was, there was a common saying: 'Rules are meant to be broken.'

You and Lando both realised it. But it terrified you the most. You weren't cut out for this. Things were already hard enough as it was sneaking around.

Travelling on the private jets, facing the media and the public, having to watch Lando race every weekend and pray for him wellbeing... it wasn't exactly your cup of tea. It was exactly why you were friends with benefits in the first place.

So you ended it. Lando wasn't happy about it but he respected it.

That was the end of your story.

Or so you thought.

"Lan, you're in a relationship. For fuck's sake, please can you consider her at least?"

Lando ran a hand through his dark mop of curls, sighing while holding back the eye roll at the mention of his intricately created PR relationship. He knew you were right. You often were. But you weren't understanding him. He didn't think you ever could, no matter how much he tried to explain it to you.

You and him... you were made for each other. He knew it from the bottom of his heart. You were perfect. Together, you were perfect. There was no one like you. And for him, there was no one else. Not ever. No matter who he dated or who he was with, he'd be damned if there was someone else other than you.

Lando's tongue poked his cheek, eyes firmly on you. "Are you coming this Sunday? In the evening?"

This race weekend was the Silverstone circuit and in the same day, afterwards, was a dinner party with the drivers, families, and friends. In other words, it was a recipe for disaster.

"I don't think I should..." you trailed off, internally wincing when you knew deep down you should've just said you weren't coming rather than being open to it. When it came to the blue-eyed boy in front of you, any assertiveness you ever had was thrown out the window.

Lando reached to grab your hands, fingers automatically rubbing smooth circles into your skin. "Please come," he pleaded, "if not for me, come for mum and dad, hmm? They miss having you around."

You pressed your lips together, eyes falling onto the floor as you began to chew your lip. "Lando, I can't come. It doesn't look good... for the both of–"

"She won't be there."

Your eyes flickered up to Lando, widening slightly at his words.

With an eager sharpe intake of air, he doubled down on his response. "If that's why you're saying no, she won't be there."

You tilted your head, giving him an almost dry look. "You know that's not even half of the reason." A sigh fell from your lips. "Go home, Lando. You've got practice tomorrow. You need sleep."

Lando's eyes softened. You always kept track of those small things for him, scolding him for not going to sleep early or not taking care of himself. It was like old times all over again. His grip around your hands tightened. "I will," He promised, "but tell me you're coming on Sunday. Please."

You cursed at yourself. It was that same voice. That one with so much need and desperation. It was as if a voice gained the ability to have puppy eyes.

Reluctantly, you nodded slowly. "Fine... I'll come," you relented.

A smile finally sprawled across Lando's face, hands moving to quickly bring you into a hug. His arms felt comfortable, bringing an ease you hadn't felt in over a year. "Thank you."

Your eyes widened when you felt a quick kiss on your cheek, still lingering after Lando parted. He grinned, taking a few steps back from you. "I'll see you Sunday. "

━━━━━━━━━━━

The Sunday jitters were real. You couldn't ever truly imagine how anyone of the drivers felt on race day but you imagined it to be something like this.

The way your heart was thumping, one would think you have an odd case of arrhythmia. You were working up a sweat masked by the anxious sprays of perfume you had lathered on and all you were doing was standing.

You hadn't watched the race in person because that was equally as idiotic as going to a brunch where the person you love and his family was despite him having a girlfriend. And you didn't want to be twice as idiotic. In the end, Lando had gotten a well-earned P3 at his home race, despite the mistakes of his team.

You were happy for him. But it didn't rule out the fact you were in a serious dilemma of awkwardness as you dawdled outside of the venue. Your fingers twirled around the fabric of your dress.

You shouldn't of worn it. It was Lando's favourite. You knew that.

Hell, you shouldn't be here.

You should go home.

It wasn't too late.

Your name abruptly sprung into the air. "Is that you?"

Well shit.

You took a slow turn on your feet, a sheepish smile automatically working its way onto your face. "Mr and Mrs Norris!" you greeted.

An amused huff fell from Lando's mother's mouth. "Please! You know you can call by our names!"

Somewhere in the back of your head, you could feel your mother's voice nagging you at the very thought of calling them by their names.

Cisca smiled, bringing you into a warm hug. "God, we've miss you!" Pulling away after a few seconds, she took another few to observe you. "You've become more beautiful since we last saw you, isn't that right, Adam?"

Lando's father chuckled. "Not more than you though," he teased only to get a playful elbow from his wife. He turned to you and grinned, reminding you exactly where Lando's came from. "The girls will be so happy to see you, sweetie. Oliver too."

You laughed gently, thanking them. Your mouth felt dry. Usually you knew what to say to them. But it had been so long, you weren't sure what to say. Whether it was right or wrong. How much Lando had even said...

"Lando was telling us how you've been busy studying, is that right? You've been doing your master's?" His father queried.

Speak of the devil...

You nodded slowly. "Yes. It's research based so it's quite, uh, time consuming. So I just wanted to put a year dedicated to it. That's why I haven't been around as much."

Both of his parents nodded in understanding. His mother pouted, "While it's been sad without you, I'm very proud of you. A bachelors is no easy feat let alone a master's!"

Your heart constricted while her soft eyes met yours. His mother was always like this. Talking you... treating you as if you were her daughter. You never understood it. You'd only known each other for a couple of years including the period were you and Lando were with each other.

You asked her a month before you had ended it with Lando how she knew you so well. Her response... you could've never forgotten it even if you willed it. '"A mother knows everything. What's good and bad for their children. You know it as mother's intuition. When I look at you, I just know."'

"'Know what?'" You remembered asking.

"How important you are to Lando."

And that was when you realised you were completely and utterly in love with him.

"If you two are done talking, we should finally go inside," Lando's father continued to tease.

You sucked in a sharp breath as you walked with his parents inside the venue.

It was definitely too late.

━━━━━━━━━━━

To be honest, Lando had seen many beautiful things in life. Life, if you looked at it carefully, perhaps on a slight angle, was beautiful. And besides, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

But the sight of you walking into the venue, arm linked with his own mother and you chatting with his father was forever etched into his brain.

He could've sworn his heart was leaping out of his chest. Everything about what he was seeing was perfect. Your smile, the atmosphere, the sun shining down on you, the sound of your laugh, your hair, the wind, the dress... God, he could go on and on.

"Lando! Look who we met outside!" His mother cheered making him grin.

"Well, well, well," Lando smiled, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before hugging his father. He stepped back, blue eyes fixated on you. He stretched out his arms, waiting for a hug making you sigh and his parents laugh softly.

You took a step forward, reaching your hands to wrap around his back while Lando's own hands fell to your waist and brought you close. His classic Tom Ford perfume lingered around you as he whispered in your ear. "You came."

"I promised," you responded softly, pulling back only for him to tighten his grip on you. You suppressed an eye roll. "Congrats on P3. You did well."

Lando perked up at the mention of his race and finally pulled back. "You watched?"

"I–" Your voice was interrupted by another familiar Brit.

"Is that who I think it is?" Alex queried with his usual wide grin.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Depends... is it the most prettiest girl? After Lily, of course."

Alex chuckled. "Is there any other answer?"

You pretended to ponder. "Nope! That's the one." You both laughed as you gave each other a hug.

"Where have you been? I needed someone to give me company on the tracks. It's been so lonely," He complained dramatically.

And without realising it, you were back to meeting everyone you hadn't seen in a long time. Weirdly enough, you missed this. Talking to everyone, joking around, just spending time with them... it gave you some sort of peace.

"Okay! Oscar, you're time's up," Lando announced, standing at the table you, Oscar and his girlfriend, Lily, were seated at.

Oscar gaped at his teammate. "But we only just met her!"

Lando gave a sickly sweet smile. "Aw... tough. Now scram!"

You shook your head as you watched the couple leave the table. "You are the worst," you said, leaning on your arm while Lando took a seat next to you.

"I haven't seen you in so long! Sue me for wanting to spend time with you," Lando shrugged in his defence, blue eyes trained on you.

You blinked, averting your eyes to the rest of the party. "I going to get some champagne," you murmured, standing up to go the table full of various spirits and juices.

You cursed silently as you caught Lando following after you from your peripheral. Arriving to the table, your fingers danced around, looking for the right glass of bubbles.

"You're ignoring me," Lando stated, hot breath skimming past your ear as he stood inches away from you.

You kept your eyes on the alcohol, letting a small laugh fall from your lips. "Gee, has anyone ever told you that you're a smart cookie, Lando"?

Lando pursed his lips. "I miss you."

You sighed at the familiar words, fingers wrapping around a glass of what you were pretty sure was Dom Perignon leisurely being given. "Lando... stop it. I came here because you wanted me to, okay? Just forget about whatever it is you're thinking about."

You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt Lando's hand travel to yours, fingers just hanging on to each other. You hated how his touch made you feel so... so tingly. As if you were having your first crush.

"So that's why you wore this dress? To tell me to stop? Because I wanted you here?" He laughed softly, playing with your fingers. He shook his head. "I can't even imagine what you'd do if I told you every single thought running through my head right now."

Your eyes widened. You shakily put back the glass of champagne.

"Lan–" Your voice cut off upon the feeling of his fingers trailing at the back of your neck. You gulped while Lando's voice continued to linger.

"How much of a mistake do you think this really is? Wearing my favourite dress? Don't think I haven't seen that necklace on you. Let's turn that pendant around and show everyone who's name is on it, hmm?"

Your eyes widened. Shit. You had completely forgotten about the necklace. You had spent all your time using it on the front side that you had forgotten about his initial's engraved on the back.

Lando's tongue trailed over his bottom lip, head tilting to the side. "Sweetheart, I'm torn. You have no idea how gorgeous you look. But you have no idea how much I would give... what I would do to take you home right now. That dress would be off and my fingers would be on you. Fuck, just imagining it, I–"

"Lando!"

You and Lando both furrowed your brows, chests heaving breathlessly. You definitely didn't say his name nor did you sound like that. Turning your head slightly, the view made you take wide steps back from Lando.

Lando mended his brows even more, only smoothing them when he saw what you had seen. "B-Baby!" The endearment failed to come out of his mouth smoothly, making you wince.

You watched Lando hug the blonde girl in front of you. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Brazil?" He asked, only just covering up his sheer curiosity.

"I was but I wanted to surprise you... so surprise!"

A surprise... yes it was.

You blinked as the blonde turned to you, extended her hand, and introduced herself. Awkwardly, you returned the kind gesture because ultimately she had done nothing wrong to you.

You introduced yourself as Lando's old friend because it was the safest bet. And it was the truth... to some degree.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Lando asked his girlfriend as a queasy feeling began to form in your stomach. You think you can hear her respond, settling for a glass. You weren't sure. Your ears were tuning in and out of this noise. Out of your peripheral you see the driver turn to you. "Did you still want your champagne?"

You let out a low exhale and gave the both of them a tight smile. "It's okay. I was just leaving."

The smile on Lando's face dropped. "W-What? Already?"

You nodded curtly. "Lots of things to do."

Lando narrowed his eyes. "Like what? It's barely seven... the day's almost over..."

Your eyes widened, feeling startled as an awkward laugh fell from his girlfriend's lips. "Lan, the girl said she has things to do. Stop grilling her. Sorry... must be the post-race adrenaline or something. It's a shame you can't stick around though. See you around?"

You gave a small smile, slightly irritated at how genuine and sweet she was. You actually wished there was something about her to hate. "Yeah," You agreed softly, "See you around."

━━━━━━━━━━━

About thirty minutes had passed since you left the dinner party, much to everyone's dismay.

You were exhausted.

You only just had the energy to take off your heels and put aside your purse before you fell onto your bed. Sighing, you stared at the ceiling. What even was life anymore?

You couldn't believe yourself. You were so angry and pissed off at Lando and you were jealous of his girlfriend.

There wasn't any rocket science to it. You were still very much in love with Lando. You shouldn't be but you were.

Your mother once told you that love wasn't black and white. It was the blurred line between: it was grey. It was never as simple as being in love or not. You fall in love and fall out of it and just as you did, you would fall once again but with someone else entirely. And sometimes it compelled idiotic things like infidelity or rebounds.

Love was also seasonal. It changed all the time and sometimes you enjoyed it and sometimes it made you suffer. It was entirely demanding. It drove people crazy. It was overwhelming and yet so lonely.

Point in case: love sucked.

And you and Lando had not escaped from it.

You weren't sure if you ever could.

But you had to. It was the right thing to do. Maintaining boundaries was the right way to go.

You blew some air up to your face, pushing the hair out of your face. Nodding to yourself, you told yourself you were getting over Lando.

You sat straight at the sound of your doorbell ringing throughout your house. Begrudgingly you walked towards the door, a hundred percent sure it was your neighbour a floor down. She was a sweet, quiet old lady who fit the 'crazy cat lady' persona a bit too well. Often, she came to you asking if you had seen a cat of hers but the worst part was that all of her cats were the tabby orange type. How she could tell the difference was beyond you, no more than how exactly the cats were using elevators and opening fire exits to get to your floor.

Without thinking too much, you opened the door to greet the lady but all the words you had ever known fell to the air upon seeing Lando.

"Lando," you took a calm deep breath, "Please tell me I'm hallucinating or that you're not actually in front of my door right now."

"I can't do that," Lando said, eyes burning with something a bit too familiar.

Wordlessly, you begun closing the door. But the jutted foot of Lando's quickly intercepted the act. "Please," Lando pleaded, coming into your apartment.

You let out a distressed sigh as you hear the door close. "Lando, you can't be here. You're supposed to be at a dinner party. With your friends... family, with your girlfriend, oh my God, with your freaking girlfriend, Lando."

"But you're the only one on my mind," Lando breathed, watching you walk around your house. His arm reached out to your waist, stopping your endless rounds of circles. He could feel you take a sharp intake of air, standing still at his touch. Holding you close, his lips lingered near your ear while his warmth enveloped you.

"I think I'm going crazy," he murmured. "You're in my dreams. Even when I look at her, I see your face. You're fucking everywhere, sweetheart."

You pursued your lips together. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?" you asked quietly, not to Lando in particular but to the silence of your house.

"Then tell me... that you don't want me here. That you don't feel the same way. Tell me... tell me you don't love me. Then I'll leave. I promise."

"I–" you paused, turning your body to him. You could feel his eyes searching your face but you couldn't even lift your head up. "I don't love you."

A lengthy silence ensued and it spoke volumes.

Finally, a soft chuckle from Lando's lips broke the silence. "You can't even look me in the eye and tell me that."

You threw your head back with an exhausted sigh, giving up. Your hands began to flail about. "What more do you want from me, Lando? Why can't you just leave me, us, alone?"

Lando's hand travelled to your jaw, pulling you in a mere inch away from his face. His grip was soft and warm, lulling you. "I can't leave you alone... I can't ever leave you alone. You don't get it," a cry of frustration fell from his lips while his eyes watered, "You were made for me and I was made for you. You... you are all I ever think about. I can't breathe without you. I exist for you. I am so fucking in love with you, it scares me. And i-if you tell me you love me, I'll break up with her right now."

Your eyes burned with an all but familiar salty liquid. "Lando... I can't."

Lando clenched his jaw. His voice was so quiet, a crack away from breaking entirely. "Why? Why can't you just admit that you're in love with me?"

"Because I'm terrified!"

You feel Lando's hand fall from your jaw while his brows furrowed, asking you what you were talking about. Your cheeks were flushed with heat while your fingers dug rested on your hips, digging into your flesh. You took in a shaky breath.

"I can't do this life, Lan. I can't be away from you all the time and travel with you all the time. I'm not another girl on your arm for the media. And I really can't watch you race. Every time I watch you race... I, " you blew air into your cheeks, "I watch with a sick stomach. Every spin, every crash... I always just think.. God, if something happened to you. If I love you..."

Lando fell silent. For the first time in a long time, he had nothing to say to you. All he had were the fresh tears quietly leaking out of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, using his arm to wipe off the rest of his silent sobbing. Stepping forward, with the soft pad of his thumb, he collected the tears you hadn't realised were falling.

Lando cleared his throat, breathing in while he rested his hand on your cheek, rubbing soft circles into your skin. "Ever since I met you, before I even realised I was in love with you, I've spent every race thinking about you. You're my first thought when those lights go off and the last when that flag waves. You don't know it but you are the only thing that makes me feel truly safe. And I would fight the world if it meant that you could openly love me back."

A singular tear made it's way down your face, seeping into the pores of your skin as Lando pressed a long kiss on your cheek before quietly leaving towards the door. Before entirely leaving, he stopped in his tracks. "I'm not giving up on us. I told you before. I could never leave you."

━━━━━━━━━━━

It had been a month since you and Lando had talked... whatever that was out.

The promise he had made before leaving your house that day was one he was persistent in pursuing. You knew Lando. He was stubborn. Often, what he wanted, he got.

You tried to avoid him. But the good morning and good night messages you received every day despite his ever-changing time zones still reached you. You spent the first three days ignoring them but the guilt with each passing day got heavier.

In a way, it felt like you were restarting your friendship. Taking things slow. Except the odd times that reminded you it was anything but. In particular Lando's 'drunk on horniness' messages or the sudden love confessions that popped out of thin air.

Things were... steadyish.

It was the only reason you had accepted Carlos' extended invitation to join him and the other's at a nightclub. You couldn't lie. Of course, Lando was at the forefront of your brain when you accepted. A part of you was curious.

How was he holding up?

Whether he was still with his girlfriend...

Were his plans on not giving up on you limited to his consistent texts?

But alas, as life usually worked, things did not go the way you planned.

While most of the drivers steered clear of the alcohol aside from their podiums, a practice Lando often took somewhat seriously, he was seriously considering breaking at the sight of you. More specifically, the sight of you and João Felix, the famed five-star FIFA player, mingling.

Lando who wasn't starving for any spirits was ready to down a few shots. But instead, he was completely sober, not a lick of alcohol in him, watching João, the ex-boyfriend of his own girlfriend chat you up.

Lando couldn't exactly blame the athlete. He would've done the same thing: the fixated eyes as you talked, the ear-to-ear smile when you laughed, the seamless checking out when you turned to take a sip of your drink or talk to someone nearby because Lando was a hundred percent sure you were the most gorgeous person in the room.

But he could blame João's pettiness. Lando had his ex and now he was going after you. In way, he rated it. But Lando knew you too well.

You were not interested in the player at all. The tight smiles, the absentminded nods, the readiness to jump into a conversation with literally anyone else... you were practically inviting Lando for a talk.

You could feel yourself freeze at the sight of Lando and his girlfriend walk over to the both of you. The air, all of a sudden, felt thick, fogging up your brain. You weren't quite sure what to say. This odd intertwining history between the four of you was nauseating.

"João," Lando greeted with a fake cheer. Magui, his girlfriend, gave a tight smile that bordered on pissed off – you knew the look all too well.

The football player gave a loose grin, shaking Lando's hand. "Lando... Magui," he sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh! Have you guys met yet?" He asked, brown eyes moving to you as he introduced you to the couple.

The three of you blinked at the dry sarcasm underpinning João's voice. You let a small laugh fall past your lips. "We have, actually. I'm Lando's old friend and Magui and I met not so long ago."

Lando gave you a pointed look. "You are way too down to earth. She's a special old friend," he corrected, grinning at João.

You pursed your lips awkwardly as the two Portugueses raised their eyes brows. You raised your hand to rub the nape of your neck nervously. "Uh, well, no... just old friend will do. Always the funny one, huh, Lando?" You murmured with a forced laugh.

To be honest, as the silence began to build, you were surprised to even hear Magui's voice. "I'm sorry..." she started, arm darting out to grab João's hand, making you widen your eyes, "João, we need to talk."

You incredulously watched Magui drag away the Portuguese before turning to Lando. You pondered over her words. "She still–"

"Likes him? Yup!" Lando said, popping the 'p' as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"It's weird how similar she and I are. Lonely... and both head over heels for our exes." Lando tilted his head, eyes examining you carefully while you took a deep breath. "Can't say the same for João though," he clicked his tongue.

The comment made you raise a brow. Lando softly laughed at your confused expression. "Sweetheart... it is my worst luck that you are the most gorgeous woman to exist. João had eyes for you. From the moment you were talking till the moment we stepped in."

You folded your arms, a small grin teetering on your face at the irritated expression on his face. "So you were watching me... obsessed much?" You humoured out of pure amusement.

Lando poked his cheek with his tongue, taking a step towards you, hands still shoved into this pockets of his pants. "Oh you have no idea."

You pressed your lips together.

There were an infinite amount of things that were unhealthy. Rewatching your comfort shows five times too many, the double digits on your screen-time, a high sugar intake (although your tastebuds said otherwise)...

But for you, it usually ended up being Lando. The various facets of Lando often left you undone. And a clean-shaven Lando, stalking towards you in the loosest long sleeve polo shirt, folded at the arms and half unbuttoned so the necklace you brought him and bracelets he wore glittered under the club lights was just another one of many undoings.

"Lando..." you murmured, taking a step back, eyes darting to your surroundings. "What are you doing?"

"I haven't told you how good you look today, have I? Because you have no idea how fucking hot you look," Lando responded, ignoring your question as he took another step forward.

You swallowed your saliva at the recognisable look swirling in those blue orbs of his. Like he was going to ravage you.

"Lando," you hissed, putting a hand to his chest to maintain some distance. You breathed shakily, trying to think straight. "Have some self-control!"

"Oh sweetheart, you know as much as I do." You widened your eyes as Lando used your hand to pull you closer, merely inches away from his face. His voice, despite it's softness, is drowned in a husk that runs down your spine. His warm breath pricked the surface your skin. "When it comes to you, I have no control."

Never in your life had your throat felt so dry. You burned at his words and his touch made your stomach churn. "But..." you furrowed your brows, trying to remember what you wanted to say. "But Magui? João?" You managed to get out.

As the strobes of light glimmered across Lando, you managed to capture him closing his eyes after being trained on your lips for so long, as though he was trying to hold himself back, swimming up to the surface for some sort of consciousness.

His forehead fell to yours as he pondered those three words. "I told you..." Lando said, hands travelling up your neck to hold your face, relishing the heat your flushed state brought. "I exist for you."

In essence: fuck Magui and fuck João.

━━━━━━━━━━━

"You're kidding me," Lando flatly said, evilly eyeing the 'Out of Order' sign on your elevator.

"I'm also totally kidding that my room's on the fifth floor," You laughed softly, sarcasm underlying your voice.

Lando turned to you with a blank stare. You two had both managed to get out of the nightclub as discreetly as you could (which included the most obvious winks from Carlos and Fewtrell). While both of your patience was wearing thin, in the nature of an F1 driver, Lando was losing it ten times faster.

Lando had been waiting what felt like forever to be with you, for you to green-light him. That time he spent without you felt torturous as though he was being punished for being in love. And now that he had you, he was going to make up for lost time.

The only hitch in his plan was an elevator under maintenance and five flights of stairs.

Lando raised a brow at the anything but innocent smile tugging on your lips. He sucked in a sharp breath. "I do not like that look on your face."

You suppressed an eye roll, knowing damn well those twinkling eyes were saying something else. Slowly, you walked towards the fire exit with Lando following after you cautiously. Popping your head into the room, you looked up and the numerous staircases trailing up the building.

A quiet laugh slipped past Lando's mouth. "What are you doing?" He asked as you took your heels off and placed them on the floor.

You turned to him, resting your hand the railing of the staircase while the other found your hip. "My dear Lando," you tsked, "you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

You smiled at the furrowed brows he sported. "They say you should work hard to get what you want. Who knows..." you shrugged, "Maybe you'll find my panties on the third floor."

As the cogs finally clicked in place, Lando sunk his teeth into his lips. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, raking his eyes over you. "And if someone catches us?"

You jutted your bottom lip, pretending to ponder his question. "Guess you'll have to be fast then. Aren't you an athlete or something?" You teased, grinning ear-to-ear now.

"You are going to be the death of me." Lando gave you a pointed look, throwing his heading back soon after receiving a cheeky wink from your side.

The British driver watched carefully as you started to make your way up the flight of stairs. Smiling to himself while shaking his head, he grabbed your heels with his two fingers and climbed up after you.

Lando was amused and excited at the same time, seeing you occasionally turn to him with a knowing glint in your eyes. He knew himself that things were currently tame: finding your heels, purse, and jacket in his hands.

He felt dazed upon catching a glimpse of the lace underneath your dress, tight around your ample flesh, his own pants beginning to constrict.

"Not just yet, Lan." Your voice piped up in the silence. Lando fluttered his eyes open, seeing you turn back to him again. He questionably hummed in response, gathering himself once again.

"What are you going to do now?" You queried with feigned innocence, eyes flickering to your bra dangling in your hand. "Whoops!"

Lando sucked in a sharp breath, watching your bra fall to the floor before shamelessly moving his eyes to your chest, eyes bulging at the now uncontrolled cleavage spilling from your dress. His fingers clenched around all of your items while he swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth.

The sudden urge to increase his pace up the stairs made you widen your eyes with a fire-like anticipation, matching his action. As Lando grabbed your bra from the floor, he could only imagine what was coming as you arrived to the third floor.

But surprisingly enough, Lando had caught up to you, intentional on your part he was sure. He eyed your body as you sat on a stair, leg crossed over another, letting your dress ride up your thighs.

"Looking for something?" You queried, catching his attention.

"Nothing." Lando winced at the poor and croaky lie escaping his lips.

You grinned, gliding your tongue over your lip. You stood up, hand clenching around the soft and wet fabric in your hands. You could hear Lando's breath hitch as you used your free hand to trail up his leg, only millimetres away from the bulge in his pants.

Lando's eyes focused on you as you met his gaze. He felt your lips graze his own, naturally making him lean in for more but your finger pressing down stopped him, instead pulling his free hand open.

Lando closed his eyes upon the feel of the soft textured fabric in his rough palm. "Please tell me that's what I think it is."

He knew what it was. But he wanted to hear it from your lips.

You moved your lips to his ear. "What do you want to hear? That your holding my panties? Or that they're soaked?"

Lando's eyes snapped open, dropping your items to his side. His hand travelled up your neck, holding your face to jerk it towards him. You could feel his hot breath swarm your vicinity. His thumb trailed over your lips, head leaning in.

You gave him a small smile, pulling away. "We still have two whole floors, Lando. Patience is a virtue."

Lando blinked blankly at the light tap of your fingers on his cheek. He watched you leave once again. Knowing that you had no underwear unknowingly awoke something deeply sinister within him.

You were a siren. Luring him in by doing so little and yet, the most. He was sure of it.

Lando took in a deep breath, closing his eyes once again. He was also sure that the next thing about to come off was the last thing you had on: your dress. And he wasn't confident he could handle it at all. His cock felt impossibly tight against his pants, aching in such a way that begged for release.

"You're missing the show, baby."

Lando looked at you, gathering your items and slowly walking up the stairs, watching you carefully take the straps off your shoulders, emphasising 'L' on your necklace. His tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, preventing them from tugging upwards when you realised you had to deal with the zipper of your dress.

"Need some help?" Lando asked, catching up to you once again.

You pouted at his amused expression. "Lan... I had a thing going," You whined. You had used a damn string and paperclip to pull the zip up earlier this evening. And now? Now you had a lover who drove a papaya-coloured car for a living with a shit-eating grin.

"How about," Lando started, moving your panties to his other hand to wrap an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, "I help you get out of this dress and you stop being a little minx so I can fuck the tease out of you, hmm?"

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, feeling Lando's bulge push up against your ass. Your skin pricked with a wave of heat that you hadn't felt in a long time. You hear Lando hum in your ear, waiting for a response as he nestled his chin into your collarbone, fingers grazing up and down your body.

"Fine, fine," you relented, turning to grab Lando by the hand before you hurried up the last flight of stairs.

"I thought you said patience was a virtue!" Lando huffed, smiling at your pace.

You rolled your eyes. "You're one to speak."

Lando chuckled softly, trailing after you with the same eagerness sparking within him.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You peeked your head into your empty hallway, hand still around Lando's. There were four flats on your floor. Two of which were empty thanks to the cost of living crisis and the other, your neighbour, who was often out of town.

In other words, you were free to be as loud as you want.

With as much humbleness and reserve you could manage, you tamely walked down your hallway, hearing Lando mumble something about how your hallway belonged in a horror movie.

"Gee... that's so sexy, Lan. Keep going," you dryly encouraged, turning to grab the keys in your purse.

Lando jutted out his hand, letting your keys dangle from his fingers in front of your face. "I'm just saying," he said defensively with the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in amusement.

You shook your head, failing to suppress your grin as you shoved the key into the door, waiting to hear the obscene click. Opening the door, you smiled timidly at the state of your flat. "Well... this is my humble-ish abode... that you've seen a bit too much recently," you teased.

Lando laughed softly, following after you, hands still full. "What are you on about? I love your flat. It's so... you."

You turned to Lando with a raised brow, watching him put down all the trinkets you had left him on the shelf near the door. "Is that a diss I hear?"

The driver rolled his eyes, walking towards you with a knowing glint to his eyes. His arms stretched out, travelling to your waist before pulling you in. You could feel his breath graze past your skin as he held your gaze. Lando's voice was a mere whisper in your ears. "I mean I love you... so I love your cute little flat."

"Oh," you lamely said before blinking back to reality. "I mean not 'oh' like 'oh,' I mean like 'oh... I love you too?" You questioned, slowly dying on the inside at your stupidity.

Lando grinned at your pained expression. "Nice save," he murmured against your lips. "Now... where were we?"

"Hmm?" You idly queried, unable to take your eyes off of his lips. "Uh," you cleared your throat, "something about fucking the tease out of me?"

"Ah, yes," Lando agreed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "You have been pretty awful today. First walking in with João..." He clicked his tongue, finger trailing the underside of the strap of your dress before pulling it down your shoulder. "Then this dress, fuck."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling his fingers skim past your neck as he walked around you to meet the zip you had been battling all day. Lando's mouth met the side of your ear while he pressed the cold metal of your zip down and against your back.

"And now your little theatrics. It's not very nice of you, sweetheart. I've waited so long... you're on my mind every second of every day. I think about you so much, I don't think it's healthy. But..."

Lando stopped himself, lips brushing against your burning skin.

"But?" You repeated, turning your body to face him.

"But... I don't care," He finished with a small nonchalant shrug and a balance of softness and cockiness drowning his voice.

You didn't waste a second, moving your hands to Lando's neck, pushing yourself forward as you pressed your lips to his.

You could feel his hands immediately wrap around your waist. Your skin pricked with a familiar burn, warming at the touch of Lando's fingers skimming your bare skin.

Even though a fire was whirling within you, your body still had managed to create waves and waves of goosebumps as the hairs on your skin stood straight. You could feel Lando's tongue dart out, nudging your mouth to open a bit more to explore every crevice.

A mix of a grunt and high-pitched moan slipped past Lando's lips making your thighs clench at the tingling rippling through your core. You were positively going to combust.

Lando was equally sure he was going to lose it. He had waited so long to feel your lips and the sheer happiness he felt right now... it couldn't even compare to his imagination. To feel his teeth graze your lips while his one hand roamed your bare back, ever slowly inching towards your ass... the other tangled in your soft hair... he was almost afraid to admit he daydreamed of this.

His pants, fuck, they were tight before but this was something else entirely. He was in a some sort of twisted pain as your hands moved from his neck and crept up the hem of his shirt, brushing his taut torso, remembering exactly where all his little moles were.

"Shit..." Lando sighed out, holding you tighter against him. His lips moved along your bare shoulder, meeting the nape of your neck to attack it with purple written love letters. "Get on the bed, baby," he managed to get out, half-focusing on the honey-drenched moans falling from your lips while he waddled you towards the bed.

You sat back on the mattress breathlessly, chest heaving up and down as you watched Lando eye you down with a lust-driven softness. A gentle smile sprawled across your face, making him gulp cautiously. Coyly, you stood up, barely a few centimetres away from him as you peeled off your dress as slowly as you good.

You could hear Lando's breath hitch before he sucked in a sharp intake of air, eyes fixed on your breasts. They looked lonely... as if they were waiting for his touch. His tongue rested on the side of his mouth, tilting his head while your dress skimmed past your thighs and off your legs.

Lando's head fell back. "Fuck... you are going to be death of me." He shook his head, inching back towards you.

The small laugh that had fallen from your lips made him smile. He watched as your fingers pinched the edge of his shirt, lifting it up at the same rate of his arms flying up. Removing his shirt, your hands danced towards his shorts but Lando's hand caught your wrist.

You flickered your eyes to Lando, eyebrows raised at the pained look on his face. "If I let you do it, I swear to God, I might cum right here."

Your eyes slightly widened at his words, mouth all of a sudden feeling dry. You raised your hands in defence, watching him try to take off his pants in amusement.

"Don't think I don't see that smug smile on your face, sweetheart," He murmured, blue eyes averting to you. A smug smile of his own formed on his face as his arms caged you in, your knees bucking at the feel of the mattress or Lando – you couldn't tell.

Lando's head dipped into the valley of your breasts, hot breath letting goosebumps litter your bare skin. "I missed these sweet tits of yours," he murmured, watching his own hand skim past your pebbled nipple, ears perking at the quiet gasp coming from your mouth.

You could feel the ghost of Lando's smile against your skin before his hand stretched to fondle the soft mound of tissue while his tongue wrapped around the other, circling the hard nipple with his warm saliva.

You let out a small sigh, hand immediately travelling to the mop of brown curls Lando sported as you revelled in his touch. You could tell what he was doing. Making up for lost time. Ensuring you knew how much he missed you by spending the uttermost time and care with your breasts alone.

His thumb and tongue moved in synchronised circles, paying attention to each nipple, savouring the way your body arched into his touch and the small sighs and whimpers of admission dancing into his ears.

Detaching his tongue from your nipple, Lando looked at the sight of the ample flesh of your tits filling his hands. Fuck... it drove him insane.

Your body quivered as Lando's lips trailed down the valley of your breasts, a line of purples following right after his wet kisses. "Lando," you hissed, "People are going to know."

A huff of amusement crawled from his throat. "I know."

Lando watched you roll your eyes while he came down to pussy. His hands glided across your thighs, gripping your plump skin as a wave of tingles bubbled within your core.

Planting a small kiss on the side of your thigh, he flickered his blue eyes to you. "Think I still need to get that brat out of you," he murmured before gently pulling at your labia.

He watched your folds clench around nothing as his hot breath grazed the surface of your pussy. Lando smiled knowingly. "You are simply drenched for me, sweetheart."

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his finger slide down your slick folds, going up to ever so slightly to gather your arousal and graze the sensitive bundle of nerves near the top. A gasp left your mouth, making him grin.

You feel his fingers move away from your heat, skimming your thighs while hearing the hitched breaths fall from Lando's mouth as if he was the one affected. You could see his eyes travel across your body, wondering where to start. He wanted everywhere.

His mop of curls on his head dipped down, warm lips pressed up against the valley of your breasts to your stomach. And as he reached your navel, he could hear your shallow breaths, the ghost of his smile tickling your skin.

Heat prickled every inch of your body and yet a shiver of what could only be explained as some sort of electric current ran through you. You felt a tap on your thigh, bringing you back to reality.

"Don't lose me now, baby," Lando murmured softly, hands gripping your hips to yank your body closer to him.

Before you could breathe, before you could imagine the mere consequences of the way Lando's breath felt against your core, his mouth dived down into your folds.

Your mouth fell open as your head found comfort in the mattress. His tongue grazed over your clit with a tantalisingly slow pace, letting your legs tremor in his grasp. You could feel his lips curve, smirk practically dripping off his face.

You opened your mouth, preparing a witty comeback only for a string of moans to come out as Lando traversed deeper into your burning core, taking on every crevice and fold.

A groan escaped Lando's lips, pulling away for a brief second. "I missed how good you taste, so fucking sweet," he sighed out, delirious.

Your toes curled at his words, hands reaching for his head as he returned back to your pussy, Lando's own hands moving to your inner thighs to expose you entirely to him. His tongue had found your clit once again, unleashing his torturous attack.

"Oh God," you cried out, hips bucking themselves further into his tongue as the signs of your upcoming climax approached. You didn't think you could last any longer, especially not when Lando slipped two fingers inside you, making you clench around around him.

"Fucking hell," Lando rasped against your clit, speeding up his pace. His fingers move in and out of you rapidly, tongue flat against your clit as you trembled in his hands.

The dazed look in your eyes, the sunken teeth, the clenching of your walls...

Lando eagerly pulled you closer if possible, hoisting a leg over his shoulder, sending an entirely different realm of pleasure across your body.

"Lando!" You sobbed, hands tightening their grip on his hair.

He moaned, maintaining his pace. "Come, baby. All for me, come on. Show me how good I make you feel."

You felt undone at his words, body convulsing as the big waves of your orgasm hit you hard. Your walls clenched and pulsed around his fingers.

Lando couldn't tell whether his heart was fluttering or whether his cock was throbbing, probably both, but he had once committed this ruined sight of you to his memory not too long ago, and God, he had been dying to see it again.

The strain in Lando's voice was impossible to miss. So was his aching cock standing straight against his stomach. "I need you... so bad," he murmured, pussy-drenched lips against your ear.

You couldn't help but shudder at his words. Only minutes had passed since your orgasm but fuck, you needed him as much as he needed you.

With a series of nods, you beckoned him over, bringing your lips to his for a brief minute. Your hands trailed over his chest, grazing the back of his neck before finding their place on his upper back.

A low sigh blew from Lando's lips, his eyes trailed to where your hips met before coming back up to meet yours. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in your touch before holding your gaze firmly. He called your name. "I love you. So fucking much. You're all I want... forever."

His confession made you warm all over. You could feel your eyes water slightly. With a tight smile, you brought your hand to caress his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch. "I love you too."

Those words were music to his ears. Without a second to waste, his hips moved, cock thrusting into you so deeply that you can't help but let out a small cry of pleasure, hand covering your mouth.

Lando wanted to fold. Right there and then. You felt so good around him. As though heaven had found him. But all he could do is moan your name, feeling you tightly clench around his cock.

His eyes flitted to your face when he heard your muffled moans. His arms stretched out to keep your hands away from your mouth and on his back. "Let me hear you, baby. Yell my name. Tell me how good you feel."

Your body jolted as his thrusts became deeper and somehow, you felt like you were only becoming more aroused. Your skin felt sticky, riddled with sweat as your slickness coated your thighs.

Lando groaned at the sight. You were making a mess of him, dripping all over his cock as your eyes became lost in a haze. His hand reached out, jutting your chin to make sure you were looking at him. "Keep looking at me. Look at what you do to me."

Lando's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you over so you straddled his cock, riding him into a new oblivion.

And you did look. You watched him fuck into you with a speed and depth you had missed so dearly. You watched him memorise you as though he was afraid to forget you. You watched him make love to you.

Your second orgasm began to build up as the obscene sounds of your skin slapping against one another filled the room. Your body shook at the feel of Lando's thumb against your clit, rubbing you as he entirely ruined you.

"Lando, I–" you mewled, unable to get the words out.

"I know," Lando responded, holding the same level of restrain and pleasure as his own climax built up. "Cum," he almost cried out, "please."

You could barely keep your eyes open as the tight coil in your stomach snapped. You trembled in his grasp, cumming all over his cock, hips almost unstoppable as they chased those waves.

The tight clench your orgasm brought around his cock sent him over. Lando fingers sunk into your skin. "Fuck, where, tell me where," he begged, impossibly close.

You quivered, still in the remaining moments of your orgasm. "Inside," you panted, "please, Lan." There's nothing more that I want than your cum."

Lando rasped, hips stilling at your words as his cum spilled into you, filling you in all the the right places. His grip on you loosened as he slowly pulled out of you.

You shivered at his fixated gaze of your mixed cum seeping out of your pussy. Lando fell into the bed, closing his eyes, muttering things under his breath to restrain himself. You held in your laughter as he left the bed, almost painfully, to grab a wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up.

You kissed his cheek gently, thanking him as he finished cleaning all the witness dripping your thighs. Putting aside the towel, you pulled the duvet over you and Lando, nestling up to his warm body.

You could feel the softness of your mattress and duvet conform around your body while Lando rested beside you, taking you in. You mended your brows at the sudden silence. "Penny for your thoughts?" You queried, poking his cheek before rubbing his face with the pad of your thumb.

Lando leaned into your touch, warm blue eyes grazing over your face. "I missed you," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the side of your hand. "Every day without you felt miserable and now... I can't believe you're actually in front of me. "

Your eyes softened. "I'm here," you reassured, "forever."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[mearpsdyke]

no one has to know (what goes on between us)

Summary: answers to the question "are True Damage's Ekko and soloist singer Jinx dating?" may vary depending on who you ask. (Band/Fake Dating AU)

A/N: AO3 hates timebomb so i'm being forced to post this directly on tumblr. oh well. tysm to vik for betaing the fic and being the inspiration behind sassy gay kayn<3

as a general warning this has very explicit smut towards the last 5k words, so maybe skip this fic if that's not your thing.

Ekko thinks, not for the first time since this meeting started, that he should quit music and move to the countryside for some peace and quiet.

The marketing guy is still droning on and on about merch sales and stream statistics, Ekko hasn’t been paying attention for the better part of the hour. He’s fidgeting with the pencil in his hands, intently avoiding the sight of the blue haired woman sitting across him, who’s shamelessly painting her nails.

He doesn’t know much about Jinx; she signed with the label around the same time as him, and although she’s also from Zaun, he doesn’t really know her, which is saying something, since everyone knows everyone in the lanes.

At most, Ekko follows her on Instagram, out of some kind of solidarity with her, something, something “people who come from the lanes oughta stick together”—in reality, he thinks she's quite hot. Likes her posts like he's being paid for it.

Of course, that's between him and god.

The marketing guy—he looks like a Jimmy, Ekko thinks—is still speaking. Ekko is barely listening.

“In short, we saw a spike in streams and social media interactions after the gala; our numbers had been steady, not to say stagnant, for quite some time so this new surge in activity caught our attention,” Maybe-Jimmy says, pushing his glasses up to his nose, sounding suspiciously upbeat.

That catches his attention.

Ekko reluctantly peels his gaze off the ground to look at him, silently wondering what that has to do with Jinx’s presence.

Ekko glances towards his manager, sitting next to him, who’s nodding along, sporting a serious face. He’s the only one that seems to be paying attention—well, besides Jinx’s manager, he supposes. Jinx herself is still busy painting her own nails in two different colors, humming a tune.

“So, as per the CEO’s request, we’ve devised a marketing plan to make both of your streams and merchandise sales go up,” he says, finally going to the point, and Ekko has a faint feeling that he’s not going to like whatever they’re about to propose to him. “Since the spike in interactions happened due to dating rumors between the two of you, we figured it would be a good idea for you to pretend to be in a relationship for some time, at least until after we drop both of your respective albums.”

That snaps Jinx’s head up faster than anything else he’s said this whole meeting, with her hands freezing mid-air. A droplet of pink nail polish falls to the pristine white wood.

Ekko’s mouth hangs open, incredulously looking at Maybe-Jimmy.

“What?” They say at the same time. Their gazes meet each other, twin bewildered looks on their faces.

“That’s your genius strategy?” Ekko questions, unsure if he’s offended that this took an hour of his life he could’ve used to finish his new song, or at the ridiculous idea itself.

“I know I said I would eat my own hands before doing any more Tik Tok challenges,” Jinx says, a pleading tone in her voice. “But I’d really trade doing those challenges instead of this—this stupid shit.” She turns to look at him. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he mutters reluctantly.

Maybe-Jimmy just smiles nervously and clasps his hand over the table.

“The CEO personally green lighted this strategy, so, there’s not much neither of you can do. It’s stated in your contract.” He gives them an apologetic look, but it sure doesn’t feel like he’s sorry at all. Bastards, all of you, Ekko thinks.

This is all, probably, some sort of divine punishment from the universe or god himself for that one time he accidentally leaked one of the songs on their sophomore album before it was finished, and it went viral when a rival group covered it. Akali is still mad about it.

He looks across the table to his new fake girlfriend, who’s speaking in hushed whispers with her manager, an intimidating tall woman with a face tattoo that reads VI, clearly angry at the whole ordeal. He’s not so happy about it either, but at least he has the decency to not look like he’s been given a death sentence.

In hindsight, this is all Qiyana’s fault.

She was the one that went around the Grammys after party filming everything for her vlog, and “accidentally”—Ekko still thinks it was on purpose—caught the two of them trailing behind the other, disappearing behind two heavy doors. What the public didn’t know is that those doors lead to the bathrooms, though it didn’t take long for them to figure it out. The internet was relentless afterwards, spurred on by all the stupid likes Ekko left on Jinx’s posts on Instagram.

Thirsting after Jinx was, probably, the other thing that caused this.

The dating rumors were frankly outlandish; just because they both came from Zaun doesn’t mean they were lovers before fame, he didn’t even know her. But whatever, he guesses the label is desperate enough for a new hit to pull this sort of thing.

As he’s leaving the conference room, he looks one more time towards Jinx, who’s hastily blowing on her nails.

“We’ll reach out soon to coordinate a first appearance together,” Ekko’s manager, Viktor, says, ever the efficient man.

Jinx’s manager offers a tight lipped smile, hastily putting away the nail polish back on Jinx’s purse.

“We’ll be at your disposal,” she answers, placing her hand on Jinx’s back to hurry her outside the room.

Ekko silently follows Viktor, who’s complaining about lazy marketing and cheap strategies like this, though he says nothing about advocating for him and convincing the team to drop this idea; Ekko knows as well as Viktor that his contract was drafted by Satan himself, and going against it is impossible.

He pointedly does not tell his bandmates about it. They have questions about the meeting they were not allowed to go to, but he's tight lipped.

The more he can pretend this isn’t happening, the better.

*

Jinx loves Violet. This is a fact as true as the sky being blue.

Jinx, also, hates Violet. These two statements don't negate the other if one takes into account they are, after all, sisters.

“Are you serious, Violet?! This is why I never tell you shit!” Jinx screeches, once they’ve locked themselves in one of the many soundproof recording studios.

Vi doesn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. She’s grinning like a mad woman, the fucking bitch.

“Look, I was tired of you telling me how hot you think he is and then doing nothing about it! Besides, I didn’t tell the marketing people to pitch that idea to the CEO, just suggested it. That was all their doing.”

Jinx takes out one of her shoes and throws it in Vi’s direction.

Another thing that’s, sadly, pretty much true, is that Jinx drools over Ekko. She has eyes, okay, and they function.

Unfortunately, when men are so handsome that just by looking at their pictures one gets hot and bothered, they're also, like fucking clockwork, huge assholes.

Jinx would know, she has a knack for dating them.

“One of these days you're going to disappear under mysterious circumstances,” Jinx says, ominous.

Vi smirks, lounging on the sofa like a cat.

“You should thank me,” she says, “the guy might actually be a decent one, I've heard some stuff about him. Dating him could be fun.”

Jinx pauses, considers it—then throws the other shoe towards her sister’s face either way.

*

Their first fake date happens two days later, because Viktor will be damned if he ever stops being quick and efficient.

For what it’s worth, it’s a nice spot, the kind Ekko would choose were he taking a possible partner on a date, which means Viktor knows more about him than he’s supposed to and he has to take him out from his close friends’ story—again.

Jinx is fashionably late, arriving five minutes after him, and she makes a comment about that being her manager’s doing; she would’ve arrived half an hour late if it weren’t for her, who hurried her in getting ready.

To her credit, Jinx put a decent amount of effort in her appearance; her pleated black skirt is what Ekko would consider dangerously short, wearing fishnet stockings under it. A white crop top that reads women hate me, fish fear me gains a confused chuckle from him, and she’s wearing the tiniest hint of make-up, since all the attention is on her signature twin braids; today she added gold charms to them, rings and butterflies catching his eye. All in all, she looks good, really good.

Besides sighing because she's pretty and all of this is fake, Ekko feels flattered that she put this much effort—but also, he’s embarrassed. More embarrassed than anything, actually.

Ekko is underdressed, compared to her; he put on his most comfortable jeans with a plain black shirt under his green hoodie. At least he has his gold rings and tiny earrings to appear more put together.

And he's handsome. He knows that much, so his face always pulls the look together despite all. He hears his female band mates mock him for his ego in the back of his mind.

They get their order delivered in no time, and Jinx laments not having brought her lipstick to retouch herself.

“Are you always running late to places?” Ekko wonders out loud, lazily stirring his coffee. Jinx takes a long sip of her mango milkshake, leaving the straw with a wet pop before answering.

(Ekko does not fixate on her plump lips. Nope.)

“Only to first dates I don’t care about,” she answers, a faux innocent smile dangling from her lips before she digs in on the pastries she ordered.

Ekko snorts. “Yeah, I’m not thrilled about this… arrangement, either.” He leans on his elbows, watching as she licks the frosting off her fingers. On a normal date, he’d make a sly comment about table manners, but it’s not like this is a real date, so he can’t be bothered.

Jinx looks at him, offended, and gasps dramatically.

“But I’m such a funny, awesome, hot girl,” she says, clasping a hand over her chest. Ekko stifles a laugh. “Honestly, you’re so lucky. You wouldn’t even have a chance with me if it weren’t for this PR shit.” Jinx tosses her hair over her shoulder, fixing him with a cocky grin.

Ekko scoffs, indignant. “As if I would give you the time of day. I got nominated as one of the sexiest men alive last year.”

“But you didn’t win ‘sexiest man alive’, did you now?” Jinx quips through mouthfuls of lemon pie. “And either way, when the press gets ahold of the paparazzi pics the label staged, I’ll make sure my manager tells everyone you pursued me.” Her cat-like smile only grows, and Ekko almost snaps his optic nerves rolling his eyes.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” he says, sipping on his coffee. Jinx smiles as though he’s given her a compliment.

“Why, thank you, it’s my pleasure.”

Jinx keeps on devouring her lemon pie slice, Ekko’s brain starts plotting his own disappearance and the location of the dairy farm he’ll buy the day he finally snaps and throws fame into the blender, because here he is, sitting on a café with one of the prettiest women in the industry, and he's bickering with her instead of flirting and making this thing look more real.

They don’t talk much afterwards, just sipping on their drinks. At some point, Jinx gets frosting all over her lips and childishly licks them to clean them up instead of using a napkin, like any sane person would. Ekko groans, taking her chin between his hands and bringing a napkin to clean the remnants of the frosting.

She’s grinning at him, wiggling her brows as she teases him. Ekko stifles a laugh.

He hears a camera go off somewhere.

The photo of him cleaning Jinx’s lips is up on the internet before the fake date even ends, and the True Damage group chat goes off.

[Qiyana] sent one attachment

[Qiyana] ??? EXPLAIN

[Senna] YOU FINALLY DID SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR CRUSH????

[Akali] fucking HATE YOU couldnt u wait longer u just lost me $100

[Yasuo] fucking LOVE YOU i just won $100

Not for the first time, Ekko leaves the group chat, deciding to protect his peace of mind, if only until they’re due for rehearsals.

Jinx keeps on eating her lemon pie, ignoring the world, and fixes Ekko with a smile.

“So, what’s your zodiac sign?”

*

So, maybe Ekko isn’t an asshole. But he’s not off the hook, yet.

“I don’t know, Vi. I'm still not convinced he's not another womanizer. Looking like that he could have any woman he wanted,” Jinx complains, hanging upside down from her aerial silks. “Besides, he’s a libra with a scorpio rising.”

Vi hums, definitely not paying her attention, while she types away at her phone.

“Every famous guy is a womanizer unless proven otherwise, despite what astrology may say,” she tells her, “I know it's not helpful, but I’ve heard generally good things about the guy. I have a friend of a friend who’s on all of his private accounts, and they came back clean.”

“Mhm.” Jinx hesitates, chewing on her lips. “Any exes?”

Okay, so maybe she wishes she hadn’t asked that, because Vi pulls profile after profile, and all the women she shows her are so pretty her self-esteem drops. No wonder he’s so wound up about their arrangement; Jinx doesn’t hold a candle to the previous women he dated—publicly, at least.

Jinx huffs, letting herself fall from the silks, somehow landing on her feet. Rehearsal is finally over and she can finally get a good shower.

She absent-mindedly starts thinking about her outfit for the next red carpet as she drinks water, and an idea pops in her mind.

“Hey, Vi,” she says, trying to sound casual. “Do you know if True Damage is invited to the AMAs?”

“Well, I’d hope so. They’re nominated for collaboration of the year for that song they made with Heartsteel. Why?” Vi doesn’t look up from her phone, typing away a message.

She's always on that damn phone now, Jinx thinks, sounding too much like Vander. Ew.

“Oh, I just had a brilliant idea.”

*

See, red carpets are Ekko’s thing. He knows he’s handsome, his stylist loves him, and so does the press. It’s just his space to shine.

This time, though, things are different.

True Damage always matches their color scheme for red carpets; it makes sense to do so, as a band. Tonight, however, he’s the only one that’s not in the same color scheme, and that has an obvious explanation: Jinx.

Per Viktor and Vi’s request, they hard launched the relationship through an Instagram story, some two weeks ago; a selfie huddled up together on Jinx’s couch was all that was needed to add fuel to the ongoing fire that had started during their first date.

This was after a couple more dates, some more staged paparazzi photos, and ominous tweets. To the public, they had been dating for roughly three months, give or take.

Ekko had come over to Jinx’s apartment just to take that photo; she had received him in way more casual clothes than he had ever seen her, a worn grey shirt with a corny quote on the chest and biker shorts. Her hair was loose, and boy did she have lots of it. Ekko thought, in the back of his mind, that she looked better like this.

She made him all but lay on her sofa, then threw herself over him, like this was something they always did.

“Don’t give me that face,” she said, cheek pressed flush against his chest. Ekko’s breath hitches in his throat, but he tried not to show it. “You look like you’re scared of hot women, c’mon, pretty boy, put on a smile for the camera.”

“You’re a menace,” he huffed, willing his cheeks to not redden. Jinx cackled, evil and hearty and a melody to his ears.

(No. Wait, fuck.)

So. Anyway.

It had been a short affair. They took several pictures (because Jinx needed to make sure she looked good) and once they settled on one, the matter was all but solved. And he should’ve left, really; but Jinx commented something about wanting to watch a movie now that she bought an instant popcorn machine, and nonchalantly asked if he wanted to stay over for it.

Jinx had asked him to stay in a nonchalant tone, and nothing in her demeanor told him this had to be something they did for an audience, like the dates or the photos; it was just a casual hang out. So, what the hell, sure, he stayed over, and it wasn’t as awkward as he had thought it would be.

At some point, Jinx’s head ended up resting against his shoulder and he allowed it. It wasn’t half bad.

They hadn’t seen each other since then, sporadically texting as the awards approached to update the other on how their outfit was coming along.

It was a pity, really. Jinx was growing on him, if only because her sharp tongue and clever mind amused him to no end.

“Who would’ve thought a girlfriend was all you needed to ditch the boring basic suits,” Qiyana teases, as they keep on walking down the red carpet.

“Too bad it goes against our color scheme, though,” Senna laments, fixing her gown’s trail.

Ekko, almost by instinct, wants to tell them to fuck off, but he can’t blurt out, defensively, that Jinx is not his girlfriend, not really, because the place is packed with reporters and paparazzi, and he’s sure Viktor would kill him with his bare hands if he shot down their entire operation before it truly begins to take off.

He just huffs, adjusting the jacket over his shoulders. While Yasuo is wearing a normal red, white and black suit, following the color scheme of their female colleagues, Ekko sticks out like a sore thumb—almost literally. The purple of the jacket draped over his shoulders is the same tone as a bruise (Jinx had adamantly insisted on that description for the shade of purple she wanted him to wear. It had been a pain in the ass to get it right), his white linen shirt is halfway open, showing the world his pectorals and part of the abs he had so painstakingly worked out for. His pants were the same bruising shade of purple, and although they were specifically tailored for him, he couldn’t stop feeling uncomfortable.

It wasn’t really the suit itself the issue, more so who he was wearing the suit for.

Jinx is a beautiful woman, she has her charm; he’s just pissed at the label for forcing them to do this instead of thinking of another type of marketing campaign. His bandmates had told him he was, probably, the first man to ever complain about having to date a hot woman half of the industry wanted. It wasn’t about Jinx being hot, more so about his autonomy, or whatever the fuck.

They’re almost at the end of the red carpet when Akali tugs on his jacket, forcing him to stop. He turns to look at her, confused.

“Look who just arrived,” she cheekily says, pointing with her chin to the opposite way.

Ekko knows, before he even looks, that it’s Jinx. He straightens his stance, then bids his friends goodbye before going to look for her.

The moment he sees her, his brain sort of short circuits—which is probably not good (or is it?) because there are a fuckton of paparazzi milling about.

She’s wearing a two piece set; her purple butterfly top has long flowy sleeves attached to it, giving the illusion of a cape, and the skirt goes all the way to the floor, with the draped fabric making her look like an ancient statue. The holographic fabric of the garment is sparkly, catching the light of all the cameras pointing her way. Her hair is intricately braided up in a high ponytail, with braids framing her face and pinned up to the ponytail, with her usual gold hair charms.

She looks so beautiful, his heart starts beating in his ears and something like want starts bubbling in his veins. Which is not good (or is it?) because they’re not really a thing.

Jinx catches sight of him and trots up to meet him, the sunniest smile ever on her face.

“Darling!” She says, throwing herself in his arms. He puts her hands on her hips almost by instinct, while she wraps her arms around his neck. The wave of flashes that follows almost blinds him.

“You look gorgeous,” Ekko says, not without difficulty. Jinx smiles, giggling.

“Thank you, you clean up nicely, too.” She winks at him, letting go of his neck, patting his pecs. Her touch, light as a feather, has his skin burning. “Come on, pretty boy. We gotta give them a whole photo shoot.”

Oh. Right. This is fake.

*

Jinx’s performance goes without a hitch, and through it all she wonders what Ekko thought of it (later, she’ll find that his stunned face while looking at her on her aerial silks flooded social media. It outshone the fact that True Damage didn’t win for collaboration of the year).

When the awards are done, she has an invitation from her friends Ezreal and Kayn on stand-by to come to Heartsteel’s after party, but she’s pretty sure she pulled a muscle while performing, so she opts for heading home.

She knows Kayn and Ezreal will probably berate her for skipping; they’ve been wanting to get all the hot details about her (allegedly, because they did not believe it) fake relationship with Ekko in person, so there was no way she could hang up on them once she grew reluctant to answering their questions.

“Everyone in the industry wants to know how that happened,” Kayn had drawled one time over the phone. “You got your claws on him before Miss Fortune, girl, I heard she was fuming.”

Jinx had paused her skincare routine to stare at the screen, like Kayn could see her bewildered expression.

“Ekko rejected Sarah?”

That didn’t sound correct. Sarah “Miss” Fortune was the music industry’s hot girl; everywhere she went she left a trail of broken hearts. She fit Ekko’s type down to the nail—so what happened?

“Mhm. Like, a fuckton of times. She’s proper obsessed with him since they did that song together, was it two years ago? Either way. I’d watch my back if I were you.”

That call had ended with Jinx more lost than ever, wondering if Ekko’s standards were too high in the sky or if maybe Sarah was properly crazy.

Either way, Jinx didn’t want to find out.

She’s making her way to the parking lot where her driver is waiting for her, when she hears someone call out her name. Ekko.

Jinx turns around, looks at him as he’s still running up to meet her. It’s so unfair that he’s so pretty he looks like he’s in a slow-motion montage, running up a hill to meet his beloved as his locks bounce in the air and fall beautifully on his face, the jacket on his shoulders unmoving.

(She has got to lay off the rom-coms, okay.)

“Hey Jinx,” he says, catching his breath. He pushes the locks out of his face in a motion that’s stupidly sexy. “Are you going to any after parties? Viktor said—”

“Oh, no, actually, I’m going home,” she interrupts him, hugging herself. The night is chilly, and her outfit isn’t the best for the cold. “I pulled a muscle during my performance.”

“Oh.” Ekko looks disappointed, and an awkward silence stretches on for too long.

Jinx clears her throat. “You wanted something else?” She inquires, a playful lull in her voice.

She’s probably seeing things, but she’s at least 90% sure she saw Ekko’s cheeks heat up. Oh?

“Um, not really. I think I’ll just—wait.” He takes off the jacket, draping it over her shoulders. Jinx’s breath catches in her throat—she wasn’t expecting that. “You looked cold…” Ekko evades her gaze, Jinx smiles.

His scent engulfs her; his perfume is something earthy, with notes of vanilla. She likes it.

“Thank you, Ekko,” she says, sincerely. Ekko just nods. “I’ll see you ‘round.”

Jinx turns on her heels to go back to searching for her car, and steals a glance towards Ekko at the last second.

“You could’ve just texted me!” She exclaims cheekily, before hopping on the car.

Inside, she buries her nose against the fabric, relishing in the smell. It’s so distinctly him, it almost feels like he’s actually hugging her instead of the jacket.

If she returns it two weeks later, after having sprayed it with her own perfume, well that’s her business, not anyone else’s. Shut up, Vi.

*

To deny Ekko is jealous would be like trying to deny that water is wet.

And, okay, Jinx is not his, exactly, despite what the world currently thinks. But they’re not supposed to be seen with other people, being flirty and all that; it could leak, and then the cheating scandal would overshadow everything else.

There’s men that approach her, obviously, and Ekko’s not egotistical enough to think everyone knows who they are, so he always tugs her closer, pinches his features just the slightest bit so that anyone can see she’s taken (in theory).

They’re at—someone’s party. Is it Ezreal’s birthday party? Or just a common party? Fuck knows, honestly. But it’s definitely a Heartsteel party. Half of Hollywood and the music industry is here, to begin with.

Including one of Jinx’s many asshole exes (who the fuck invited him?).

“Real asshole, that one was,” Jinx says, taking a long sip from her wine for good measure, pointing with her chin towards Finn.

No last name, just Finn. A last name wasn’t really needed when you’re one of the industry’s most famous producers.

Finn is across the room, but their gazes come to meet almost my accident. His eyes fixate on Jinx, and his blood simmers in his veins when he shoots her a lopsided grin.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Ekko says, dragging Jinx the opposite way.

Jinx is not his, but Ekko still keeps his arm around her waist. You know, for safety.

“Are you feeling bold today, pretty boy?” Jinx asks through giggles, a stray drop of wine falling on the side of her lip.

See, this is the part where Ekko wipes the remnants of alcohol away from her mouth, says something flirty and leans down to capture her lips in a kiss. That is how it would go in normal circumstances, at least.

But nothing with Jinx is normal, basically. So he kind of just squeezes her waist with all the self-control he can manage, keeping her close for a good while, definitely not brushing his thumb across the exposed skin of her waist, not thinking about how good she looks in her red two piece outfit, with the dangerously short skirt and the top that looks more like a bra.

He’s not thinking about it because they’re in public, and he’s a law abiding citizen who’s trying to not get arrested for public indecency. Thank you very much.

At some point Jinx runs off to talk to her friends, but he decides to stay put, waving away her confused expression in favor of letting her hang out alone with them. For one, he’s not Ezreal and Kayn’s biggest fan; their last collaboration happened thanks to Janna’s grace and Ekko’s self-restraint, because those two gave the rest of the band members a run for their money when it came to huge egos—how Jinx is friends with them is beyond him. Second, he saw Zeri somewhere, anyway, and he’s been meaning to catch up with his old friend from the lanes.

Of course, he should’ve known hanging out with Zeri is no better than hanging out with his band mates, because he’s a fucking idiot and told her about the arrangement.

And he may also have mentioned he thinks Jinx is hot, but that’s hardly news.

“I actually can’t stand you, you know,” Zeri says, the cigarette trapped between her fingers slowly dying out. “Why don’t you just take her on a real date? Seriously, dude, for someone with such an ego…”

“I don’t think she’s interested, not really, to be honest,” he replies, stealing the cigarette from Zeri. He gets an indignant yelp in response. “Trust me, I would know.”

Zeri scoffs. “You know shit about feelings, boy savior.”

Ekko swats her arm, like when they were kids and fought over who got to eat the last piece of candy. And Zeri’s twenty-six, a whole copyright lawyer for famous singers, but she still pushes him back, play fights for a bit.

Another cigarette is lit, and then promptly stolen. Zeri kind of just rolls her eyes and tells him something between gritted teeth, probably “As long as you don’t keep stealing my lighters.”

“I think you should try your luck with her,” she says, clearer this time. “Worst case scenario she rejects you and you make it awkward. Best case, Viktor and the label will milk out your new real relationship for all it’s worth.”

“Mm, no, that’s still the worst case scenario.” He takes a long drag, blows out the smoke in Zeri’s direction. “I do have to find her, though, we said we’d leave at this hour. Maybe you should find your girlfriend and leave, too.”

Ekko shoots her a shit-eating grin, turns on his heels. “Seraphine is not my girlfriend!” She squeals.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he replies.

*

Jinx likes to think, more often than not, that if something were to happen between Ekko and her, well, it’s not like she would mind.

She can’t blame the few glasses of wine she’s had when she looks at Ekko, wearing those black jeans and the shirt with the cropped armpits that give her a great view of his toned arms, and thinks it’s unfair all of this is fake.

She thinks she’d like to know how his lips taste, but that would probably make things awkward; Jinx’s dug around, asked questions, and she’s definitely not the kind of girl Ekko goes for, not at all. As if comparing herself side by side with his exes wasn’t enough proof.

“I’ll get the car, wait for me here,” Ekko says, letting go of her waist. Jinx feels like something’s missing, but she doesn’t dare linger much on it.

She’s touching up her make-up, the music a far-away dream thrumming under the soles of her shoes, when she hears footsteps approaching.

Before she sees him, she smells the cologne.

Olfactory memory is such a strange thing, she thinks in that decimal of a second it takes her to detect the smell. She hasn’t smelled that cologne in more than a year, close to two, and yet by the peculiarity of it she knows, without a fraction of a doubt, who is wearing it.

“My, oh my, look what we got here.”

Jinx ignores him. Doesn’t dignify him even with a flinch of her body.

“What, you can’t say hello to an old friend?”

Silence. That gets him on his nerves.

Finn walks around her, comes to stand right in front of her field of vision.

“Your new boy-toy abandoned you already?” His cat-like smile holds venom in it, and Jinx grinds her teeth until she’s sure she’s broken a few molars.

“Fuck off.”

He smiles wider, the bastard. Finn always enjoyed riling her up, and the thrill of make-up sex made her think it was fine back then, but now she’s seeing red.

“I wouldn’t abandon you, you know—”

“No, you’d just cheat on me,” Jinx says, cold. Detached.

Finn hisses, as if he’s been cut. If it was up to Jinx, she would’ve tried to pluck his eyes out with her stiletto nails already.

“You know it was a mistake.”

Jinx should be canonized as a saint, quite frankly, because she’s not sure where she got the patience to hold back and not kill him.

Part of the reason she doesn’t snap, though, is the car that comes to a stop in front of them.

Ekko emerges from the car, frown in full display as he comes to stand next to Jinx. His hand flies back to her waist, protectiveness in full force as he tugs her to his side, presses her flush against him.

If something twists in her stomach, that’s between Jinx and god.

“Do we have a problem here?” Ekko asks, twisting his face into a scowl.

Finn’s smile disappears, fixing Ekko with a pinched expression.

“You’re the new replacement, I assume.”

“And you’re the asshole who cheated on her with your secretary.”

If looks could kill, Ekko would be dead on the pavement already, and Finn would’ve probably been cut in half.

Jinx wishes she had popcorn. It’s kind of hot when two handsome men fight over you, if she’s being honest here.

Finn scoffs, taking a step forward. “Don’t get smart with me, boy, I’ll ruin your career in the blink of an eye.”

“Like you ruined yours with that pathetic excuse of an album you put out?” Ekko retorts, venom in his smile. Finn’s face twists in a wild expression. “Leave us the fuck alone.”

Jinx’s heart is thrumming against her ears, because no one speaks to Finn like this, no one has the nerve.

No one except Ekko.

Finn snarls, lounges forward to grab Ekko by the collar, but Ekko grabs his hand before he can even touch him.

“Do. Not. Even think about it,” he says, low and threatening. Without letting go of Jinx’s waist, Ekko grips Finn’s wrist and pulls him forward in one tug. Hot. “Here’s what’s going to happen: you’ll leave us the fuck alone, I’m getting in the car with her, and none of this gets out to the press. Okay? Great chat.”

He tosses Finn aside, like a discarded cigarette butt, and hastily walks towards the car. He opens Jinx’s door first when—

“She’s still mine,” Finn exclaims behind them. “Half of that bitch’s catalogue is mine. I own her, and it’s only a matter of time before she’s back with me—”

Ekko closes the car door, locks it, and spins on his heels to punch Finn straight in the jaw.

It’s a quick, sharp punch that sends him flying backwards, clearly having not expected Ekko to retaliate. A surprised gasp leaves Jinx, but she can’t do anything with the door locked.

She sees as Ekko towers over Finn, says something she doesn’t quite catch, and he hastily turns around to climb back in the car.

When he grips the steering wheel, she realizes his knuckles are red.

“He got what was coming for him,” Ekko says, nonchalantly.

All Jinx can hear is a faint buzzing in her ears, reeling from the brief yet charged encounter.

Finn’s words ring in her ears: she knows he doesn’t want her, not really, he just doesn’t like that someone else has her now. He’s a little kid, upset that someone else picked up the toy he mistreated, the toy he discarded, and needs to flaunt his power by trying to yank the toy from the other person’s hands.

It had always been like that during their relationship, which lasted more than it should have because Jinx never knew what a healthy relationship looked like, so she figured as long as she’s not bruised up, how bad can it be?

(Bad. Very, very, very bad.)

“Ekko.”

“Mhm?”

There’s a million things Jinx can say to express her gratitude, but her brain has shut off for the night.

“That was hot,” she says, and this time she can blame the wine. “I mean, um, thank you for—you know.”

Ekko swerves, clearly having not expected that.

“Uh, you’re welcome?” He turns to look at her, cheeks flushed and something wild in his gaze, not the kind of violent wild like Finn, more like, amused wild? Fuck knows.

There’s a pregnant silence that follows. Then, Ekko breaks it.

“What was he talking about, by the way? When he said half of your catalogue is his. That can’t be true, right?”

Jinx sucks in a breath, oh boy. “It is true.”

She proceeds to tell him the footnotes of it, because there’s not enough time in the day to tell him everything.

The footnotes are this: Jinx is stupid. Stupid enough to allow someone she’s dating to produce her first two albums. Stupid enough to not read the contracts she signs thoroughly, because she was convinced her boyfriend would never fuck her over.

Then he fucked her over, not once but twice, and now he’s rich all thanks to her albums.

“I’ve talked with my lawyers, there’s practically nothing I can do,” she laments, flopping back against the seat.

Ekko’s silent, rhythmically tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“I have a friend who’s a copyright lawyer, she’s a master at finding loopholes,” he says, stealing glances towards her. “You know Seraphine, right? Bubblegum pink hair, pop singer. She was Seraphine’s lawyer when she sued her old label for ownership of her masters.”

Jinx whistles. Of course she knows Seraphine, her case had been quite a controversial one; nobody expected her to win against a vampiric company like Piltover Records, known for fucking over their artists one way or another. And then she won the whole thing, to the whole world’s surprise.

Her lawyer had become famous overnight, another kid from the lanes who made it out.

“You’re friends with Zeri? Really?”

“Yup. Been friends forever, we grew up together in the lanes. I could give you her number, if you’d like,” he tentatively says, to which Jinx nods enthusiastically. He then stops the car at a red light.

It’s at the red light that she realizes she has no idea where they’re going.

She looks out of the window, trying to pin-point where they are, but nothing rings a bell, so, they’re driving around aimlessly.

“Where are we going?” She asks, tone casual.

Ekko shifts in his seat. “Uh, I dunno. I just wanted to lose Finn, I think we’re near my place, actually.”

Jinx perks up, a bad idea popping in her mind as her stomach twists.

“You know, it takes a lot of courage to stand up to him like that,” she starts, shifting in her seat so that her body is angled towards Ekko, tucking her knees under her body. “He’s like, really important.”

“He’s an asshole, is what he is,” Ekko spats, turning the engine on again. “Why did you even start dating him, anyway?”

Jinx tries not to smile, weighing her words instead. “You probably don’t wanna know.”

“Oh, I do. I never could figure out how a girl like you ended up with a guy like him.”

A girl like her. What does that even mean? What kind of girl is Jinx? Is it a compliment or an insult? No, a compliment, obviously. Ekko wouldn’t be cruel.

She sighs dramatically, looking at her nails like they’re the most interesting thing on the planet. “If you must know… It all started because we hooked up once, actually. And, okay, yeah, he’s an asshole. But by god he knew what he had to do in bed. Pity, really, that it didn’t work out.”

Ekko almost crashes the car. Jinx holds back a devilish laugh.

He clears his throat, centering the car back to its respective lane while she just bats her eyelashes innocently. She sees the way his adam’s apple bobs up and down, as he grips the steering wheel until the veins in his hands are noticeable.

Jinx didn’t think it’d be this easy to get him worked up. She thought he’d feign nonchalance, and she’d have to bring out the salacious details to get a rise out of him.

Maybe it’s so easy because he likes you already, she thinks, twisting her own stomach in knots. God, I hope so.

Ekko parks the car someplace where it’s practically deserted, shooting Jinx a charged look, but she acts clueless as to what’s happening.

She knows exactly what could happen if she pushes the right button, says the right thing.

“Kind of a weird thing to tell your boyfriend, isn’t it?” He asks, furrowing his brow. Jinx’s breath hitches in her throat when she realizes the pads of his fingers are ghosting her knees.

“Oh, you’re my boyfriend now? For real, for real?” Jinx questions, voice getting breathier by the second as she leans on Ekko’s touch.

Ekko licks his lower lips, his hand now fully resting on Jinx’s knee. She fixates unabashedly on the way the muscles on his arms flex with the tiniest movement, and doesn’t move away when he inches his face closer.

“I could be, if you wanted me to,” he says, letting his hand wander to the sides of her thigh. His eyes are piercing right through her, pupils dilated as he sets his gaze on her lips.

“You’d have to submit an application like the rest,” she replies, trying to sound casual, as she shifts again to untuck her legs, ever the patient one.

“And what would that application be like?” Ekko asks, his face is so close now, his hot breath beats down on her skin, causing a shiver to go down her spine.

It would be so easy to kiss him now, smash her lips against his and fog up the mirrors with their combined breaths. But she wants to drag this moment a bit longer, to make sure Ekko wants the same thing she does, so she chews on her bottom lip, lazily dragging a hand up his legs, then up his torso, until it comes to rest on his collarbones. She sees with glee how Ekko sucks in a sharp breath, something in his eyes growing darker with want.

He wants the same thing, alright.

“You’d have to fuck me, and fuck me good,” she says, with the same tone she’d use for telling someone the weather is nice. She sees Ekko’s eyes go wide, and a self-satisfied smile sets on Jinx’s face. She tries to not let her hands tremble as she caresses Ekko’s neck. “Wanna apply now, hm?”

Ekko doesn’t reply, not verbally, at least—he dives in and captures her lips in a searing kiss, using one of his hands to pull her closer by grabbing her from the neck. Jinx gasps, whimpering against his lips as his grip tightens ever so slightly on her skin.

She wraps her arms around his neck, playing with his locks as he keeps on kissing her, biting her lower lip to gain access to her mouth. Jinx obliges, happily letting him take the lead.

He kisses her like he’s a man who’s been lost in a desert and she’s the first glass of water he’s had in months; like he’s been waiting for this, and the thought makes her head swirl with giddiness as she parts her thighs and allows him to sneak his hand further, but it’s not enough for her to have him kneading on her inner thigh, she wants more and now.

Honestly, they should be worried about paparazzi and whatnot, but it's 3 a.m. on a Wednesday and the L.A streets are deserted on this side of the city. Jinx has no qualms about pushing Ekko off of her so she can kick off her heels, slinging a leg over his seat so she’s straddling him.

Ekko looks at her through half lidded eyes, ravishing her body with his eyes. A hiss escapes his lips as she plops herself rather hard against his lap. He doesn’t let this deter him, though; seeing how little space is left between Jinx and the steering wheel, he reaches under the seat to push it back to allow for more space. Jinx’s smile grows tenfold, happy at getting her way.

“Turn off the lights,” she asks, breathless. He blindly searches the keys and turns off the engine, and soon all the lights are off. They’re only illuminated by the lampposts outside, and Jinx thinks it adds a touch of intimacy.

Soon enough their mouths find each other again, meanwhile, Ekko’s hands grab her ass, expertly bunching up her skirt until it’s crumpled at her waist. He reclines the seat, gaining a surprised yelp from Jinx as they fall forward.

“I’m deducting points for that,” she says through a fit of giggles. Ekko snorts, giving her ass a squeeze, and a whimper escapes her mouth.

“Wasn’t aware there were points.”

“Oh, there are.” She puts on a faux serious tone as she grinds down his growing hardness. Ekko throws his head back, a groan escaping his lips as he closes his eyes. “You can gain those points back, though. You know how.”

He laughs, looking at her through half-lidded eyes as he grips her hips, forcing her to move to a pace set by him.

Jinx tries to angle herself in a way that the friction hits her where she wants, desperate for some kind of release. She feels herself grow wetter by the second, heat radiating off her skin and warming up the inside of the car.

Ekko busies his mouth kissing her neck, now that this angle gives him ample reign over her milky white skin. He slightly bites the skin under her jaw, sucking gently. Jinx hisses at the contact, pressing her hands against his shoulders for support.

Suddenly, Ekko stills her. Jinx protests at the loss of friction, but he shushes her by coming up to kiss her. She feels more than sees him letting one of her hips go and using the now free hand to ghost over her panties.

Ekko stops kissing her. Opens his eyes to give her a bewildered look, and a different kind of heat crawls up Jinx’s neck.

“You made a mess already,” he says, voice filled with lust. He palms at his crotch, completely wet where Jinx had been grinding on him. Her own underwear is no better: it looks like a damp opened between her legs.

It’s entirely because she’s been wanting to fuck him since way before their first date, having unabashedly used him and his photos as jerk off material more than once. But that’s not something she’ll confess—not right now, at least.

“Um, sorry?”

“Don’t be,” he’s quick to say. A wicked smile sets on his lips, and Jinx gasps when he tugs her underwear to the side, resting his index and middlefinger against his own crotch so she can rub against them while she’s grinding on him. “It adds points, right? I’m trying to become a boyfriend here.”

Jinx sputters something unintelligible, the addition of Ekko’s fingers and the faster pace he’s setting fills the car with obscene sounds, though none more obscene than Jinx’s moans.

Oh, he knows what he’s doing.

Ekko alternates between kissing her and biting marks on her neck, and Jinx would say something about being careful with hickeys, but she’s past the point of caring if she’s having sex with her fake-boyfriend in a deserted street, let’s be honest here.

His fingers tease at her entrance when she grinds up and down, she clenches around nothing and Jinx thinks she says something like fuck me now please, but she’s too wrapped up in her own pleasure to be sure if the words came out alright instead of a garbled mess.

Ekko probably understood her incoherencies, anyway, because he stills her once more. A protest is already forming at the tip of her tongue when his fingers knead her folds.

“How am I supposed to finger fuck you properly with no space?” He asks, “Lift your hips a little for me, doll.” Jinx’s brain short circuits at the nickname and she obeys eagerly, giving Ekko all the space. He chuckles and uses his other hand to grip her neck, making her come down to kiss her hungrily. “That’s my good girl.”

She clenches around air again.

Soon enough, Ekko inserts two fingers at once, eased in by her slick-covered cunt, and Jinx hisses at the stretch. His hands have always been bigger than hers; she’s wondered before how it would feel, and, honestly, this is better than her imagination.

Ekko starts slow, giving her time to adjust, but Jinx is an impatient little shit, so she tries to fuck herself on his fingers faster, harder. Ekko stops her, going back to grip her hip, and stills inside her.

“Behave for me, can you do that? Or are you too desperate to even try?” He questions, cocking an amused brow.

Jinx’s cheeks grow hot, but she doesn’t let her embarrassment show. “I should be the one bossing your around, you’re the one submitting an app—oh, fuck.” Her complaint is cut short when Ekko keeps fingering her, looking at Jinx with a shit-eating grin.

“What happened? Cat got your tongue?” Ekko asks, but Jinx isn’t even paying attention. She’s only aware of Ekko’s fingers curling inside her, hitting a spot that has her seeing stars behind her eyelids. “Don’t act like you want to be in control, doll, when you obey me so easily and eagerly.” Her blush probably spreads up to her chest, embarrassed at being figured out so quickly. Ekko just smiles, coming up to kiss her jaw.

“Moan for me, pretty girl, it’s like music for my ears.” Ekko punctuates this by removing the hand still gripping her to rub better at her sensitive nub.

And by god he doesn’t have to tell her twice; her moans become desperate, now that she’s free from his grip she steels herself by grabbing the sides of the seat, gyrating her hips in the same relentless pace Ekko sets.

He crooks his finger in a particular way that has her whimpering, tears dabbing at the corners of her eyes, overwhelmed by the pleasure. He’s still sucking marks on her neck, whispering things she doesn’t quite catch against her skin.

Jinx is positively seeing stars. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to even out her breathing to prevent her orgasm from washing over her so soon, but she cries pathetically as Ekko swipes his thumb side to side, resolve crumbling as she fucks herself faster on his hand.

She’s vaguely aware of the heat pooling in her stomach, her walls clenching around his fingers, and the slight tremble of her legs. Jinx speeds up, chasing her own orgasm, but her plans are ruined when Ekko withdraws his fingers.

Her eyes snap open, gasping indignantly. “Ekko!” She half-protests, half-whines. He looks up at her, faux innocence in his features.

“What? Did you think I was gonna let you cum like that? Nah.” He pauses to regard his soaked hand, covered in Jinx’s juices up to his wrist. Jinx watches incredulous as he licks it clean; the sight is so filthy, and yet ironically heavenly. Like, she’s sure that she died and was sent straight to heaven, and Ekko fucking her mindless is her reward for all the shit she’s gone through.

His heavy gaze sets on her as he licks his digits, moaning around them. “You taste so good,” he breathes out.

“Ekko,” she starts, whining pathetically, “please. Just—fuck me, I need you to—”

He comes up to kiss her again, and she tastes her own saltiness on his lips. It sends shockwaves to her cunt.

“I want to feel you clench around my dick,” he says against her lips. Jinx is not sure if she moans because Ekko smacked her ass or at the sole thought of that. “I want you to ride me like you’ve never ridden anyone else, doll. Scream out my name while I pound you from below, that sound good?”

She wants to say something, anything, but the part of her brain in charge of forming sentences has completely shut down at this point, and so she settles for nodding enthusiastically, moaning against Ekko’s lips.

She hears more than sees Ekko unbuckling his belt, the clinging of the metal snapping her out of her haze.

Jinx sucks in a breath as she lifts herself from his lap, helping Ekko tug down his jeans and then finally slide his boxer down, freeing his neglected cock. At the back of her throat, Jinx feels a whimper trying to escape her mouth at the sight of Ekko’s cock, but she swallows it down.

She runs her own fingers through her wet cunt, eagerly collecting slick, and uses it to wrap her hand around his dick. Ekko hisses, throwing his head back against the cushion of the seat as Jinx strokes him out slowly, deliberately.

“You have no idea how much I imagined this,” he says, breathing heavily. One of his hands comes to cup the side of Jinx’s face, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Hollywood’s prettiest girl on my lap, already a desperate mess from just being fingered? I can’t wait to get to my place and fuck you properly, like you deserve; have you gripping on my sheets—mh, fuck.” Filthy moans escape Ekko’s lips, interrupting his rant. He smiles crookedly as Jinx fastens her pace. “God, you’re so good at this. Just like that, baby.”

Jinx is in a trance, salivating at the sight of Ekko. His words travel straight to her cunt, feeling her clit ache to be touched; she touches herself with her free hand, trying to match the pace of the hand that’s masturbating Ekko.

Her name falls from his lips more than once, spurring Jinx on. Faintly, she really hopes nobody catches them, otherwise Vi will kill her, then resurrect her only to kill her once more but more violently.

Suddenly, she gets an idea.

With a devilish giggle, she shifts on Ekko’s lap, pressing his cock against his stomach, and he shoots her a curious look. Jinx carefully positions her cunt over his cock, sliding along the length up and down, and they both moan at the same time.

Ekko’s eyes roll back, squeezing her ass. “Careful,” he groans. “I’m gonna—fuck, Jinx.”

“Don’t come yet,” she finally manages to say. “Want you to come inside me.”

His eyes snap wide open, mouth hanging agape at her words. “Are you—?”

“Mh, Ekko, I’m so serious,” she moans. “Want you to fill me up with your cum, please.” Jinx doesn’t mention that she’s on birth control, or care to add she’s as clean as can be because she doesn’t really do hook-ups.

If Ekko has questions, he doesn’t ask them. He only licks his bottom lip, and grabs her by the hips to lift her up.

If it’s possible, it definitely turns her on even more that he’s strong enough to practically maneuver her without any trouble.

Jinx does her part dutifully, pushing her panties aside to line herself over the tip of Ekko’s cock. She looks at him straight in the eyes as she’s sinking down on him, her face contorting in a grimace that’s a mixture of pain and pleasure. She bottoms out with a piercing cry, and Ekko groans under her.

She’s so full she could cry tears of joy. Maybe she does, she’s not aware of anything that’s not Ekko’s hands on her ass, not really setting a pace but more so lingering, and his cock hitting all the right angles inside her.

Jinx leans forward, moaning in Ekko’s ear as she keeps on riding him with an erratic pace.

“Fuck, Jinx,” Ekko says her name through a whimper. Suddenly, his hands come to still her once more, and she hears her feet shuffle, planting themselves against the ground. Anticipation bubbles in her stomach as he positions himself more comfortably, and starts fucking into her from below. She screams right in Ekko’s ears, a sweet melody for him that only spurs him on.

Jinx’s body goes limp, Ekko is still holding onto her hips, moving them up and down to match his thrusts. Somewhere in her brain, she thinks Finn doesn’t hold a candle to Ekko, who has practically fucked every thought out of her head before she even sat on his cock, and now all she can think of is that she wants him morning, noon, and night.

Could’ve been doing this all day for four months by now, she thinks.

The car’s windows are all fogged up, and she’s at least 99% that if anyone were to walk by, they’d probably deduce something is going on by the way the car is shaking.

“Jinx, I’m gonna—”

“Cum inside me,” Jinx whines, “please, please, please, please. I’m so close, too.”

Ekko says nothing, just groans and picks up the pace, while Jinx’s hand flies to her clit.

If she previously felt heat in the pit of her stomach, now she feels a whole forest fire roaring inside her. Her pent up frustration at having been denied an orgasm earlier is like accelerant, helping the fire spread all through her.

Ekko feels her walls closing in on him, obviously, so he grabs her chin with his hand to force her to look at him.

“Cum for me, doll.”

That’s all it takes for her to unravel.

Jinx comes with a cry, nestling her face in the crook of Ekko’s neck, muffling her cries with the seat. Her legs tremble, threatening to give up, but Ekko’s firm grip keeps her up. He’s still thrusting into her, chasing his orgasm while he fucks her through her own, but she’s grown sensitive, so she can’t help to cry pathetically.

“Ekko, please. I can’t—”

“Do you want my cum or not, baby?” He asks through heaving breaths.

“Yes,” she answers without thinking.

“Then just—just a little more—”

His breath becomes erratic, pounding her faster, making her cry from overstimulation, until he finally snaps, coming with a low moan.

Jinx stills, catching her breath as she feels Ekko’s thick cum filling up her insides. This car is going to be so messy, a hell to clean up, but right now she thinks it’s all worth it.

They stay tangled for a moment longer, Jinx still not moving off from Ekko, catching their breaths in silence.

Then, he speaks. “Did you like my application?”

Jinx’s laughs echo in the car, “You’re such an idiot,” she giggles, pressing her forehead against Ekko’s.

He just laughs, wrapping her waist with his arms.

“Yeah, but you like me like that,” he says, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Jinx gives a long suffering sigh.

“I guess I do.”

“You ‘guess’?” Ekko shoots her an unimpressed look. “Weren’t you just begging me to cum inside you a second ago?”

“Shut up!” She cries out, indignation seeping in her tone, but she’s not mad, not really.

Ekko laughs, a honey-like sound that melts away any annoyance she could’ve been harboring.

“So,” he says, tone casual. “Are we going back to my place for round two? I still wanna put you on your back.”

Jinx thinks, for a fleeting second, she could have round two right there and then, considering he’s still, y’know, inside her. But the promise of a bed sounds too good to pass up.

“You’re on, pretty boy.”

*

When Ekko wakes up the next day in his apartment, with Jinx sprawled on top of him, he doesn’t have the heart to move her away, so he just stretches to reach for his phone on the nightstand besides him, the first notifications are from the True Damage group chat and a quick text from Viktor telling him they need to talk.

He panics, thinking they did get caught last night and someone took a photo, or worse, a video as proof.

When he opens the group chat, however, a cat-like smile blooms on his face.

True Damage’s Ekko and Shimmer Records’ star producer, Finn, get into a brawl over singer Jinx at Heartsteel party—WATCH VIDEO, reads the headline of the screenshot Yasuo sent.

He smiles, chuckling to himself, and tosses the phone aside to keep happily sleeping with Jinx—correction, his girlfriend.

As it turns out, the application on the car had been enough to turn this fake arrangement into a real one.

In the back of his mind, he makes a note to thank Maybe-Jimmy for his brilliant idea.

[galaxysupreme17]

Shielded by Chaos

Okay, so I got this chapter idea when I was scrolling through Tumblr and saw a post by @hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch of Agatha, Rio, and Billy, but I wanted to change it slightly! Credit goes to them!

Y/n = Your Name

Coven of Chaos x fem!teen!reader

The Witches Road had been a long and harrowing journey, but Y/n had come out of it stronger—or so she’d thought. Being part of the Coven of Chaos and the Young Avengers meant balancing two very different worlds. Unfortunately, it felt like neither of those worlds was going particularly well today.

The house was calm with energy, unlike how it usually is with the Coven of Chaos under one roof. Agatha was in the living room, lazily flipping through one of her old grimoires while sipping tea. Rio was in the kitchen, sharpening a dagger that she absolutely didn’t need to sharpen but did anyway to make a point. Lilia sat by the window, meditating with a faint golden aura surrounding her. Jen was sprawled on the floor, sketching intricate sigils in her notebook, while Alice quietly sipped her coffee, pretending not to eavesdrop on everyone.

The mood in the house was peaceful, at least until Y/n stormed in and slammed the door behind her.

"What happened?" Agatha questioned, looking up at the youngest witch.

"Nothing," Y/n muttered.

Agatha narrowed her eyes. "Don’t lie to me."

Y/n dropped her bag on the floor and flopped onto the couch, laying her head in Agatha’s lap and glaring at the ceiling. Agatha’s fingers instinctively began combing through Y/n’s hair, gently untangling the strands. She didn’t answer. Agatha exchanged a glance with Rio, who had wandered in from the kitchen with the knife still in hand.

"Fine! Rio, make her tell us," Agatha eyed the green witch.

Without missing a beat, Rio unsheathed the knife and pressed the flat edge lightly against Y/n’s throat.

"Tell us, abominación," Rio said.

Y/n groaned, shoving the knife away. "Geez, stop doing that! And stop calling me an abomination—it’s not true, and you know it."

"Ooh, drama," Jen remarked, looking up from her notebook.

"Shh, let it unfold," Alice added, sipping her coffee.

"Good, you can still talk. Now tell us why you’re miserable. Your mood is sucking all the good energy out of the room," Agatha pressed, her fingers now tapping against Y/n's head.

"I don’t think some of the other Young Avengers like me," Y/n admitted finally, her voice tinged with frustration. "We had a team meeting today, and a couple of them were ignoring all my ideas. And I don’t like theirs much, either."

Agatha’s eyebrow quirked. "The weird children are making fun of a witch? Well, that’s not surprising."

"What were your ideas?" Rio asked.

Y/n shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Well, we shouldn’t be going after villains who aren’t committing any crimes. Attacking someone when they’re not doing anything doesn't make sense because that’ll just set them off again."

"And?" Agatha prompted, her fingers now lightly rubbing Y/n's head in a calming rhythm.

Y/n hesitated. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Go on," Rio said, moving the knife back toward Y/n.

"Wait! Okay, it’s just… Well, they think that Agatha needs to be locked away for her crimes and that Death shouldn’t be on Earth because it’s unnatural, and she needs to go back to her job of essentially being a cosmic janitor. That’s why I came back early," Y/n blurted out.

The room went silent. Even Lilia’s meditative aura dimmed slightly as she opened her eyes.

Agatha tapped her nails against the armrest. "Hmm."

Rio tightened her grip on the knife, her knuckles whitening.

"Rio?" Y/n asked nervously.

"Can I?" Rio asked, her voice eager.

"How badly do you want to?" Agatha replied, studying her wife’s expression.

Rio’s eyes lit up with a dangerous gleam. "As much as I want to rip Billy's soul from his body and finally get what I need from him."

"Go on, then," Agatha said with a nod.

"Yes!" Rio disappeared in a cloud of green smoke.

"Well, that escalated quickly," Jen said.

"I give it ten minutes before Kate Bishop calls," Alice remarked.

Y/n sat up straighter, her eyes widening. "Uh, where’s she going?"

"To have a chat with your "teammates,"" Agatha explained casually, her fingers returning to stroke Y/n’s hair.

Y/n’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. She picked it up and saw Kate's name flashing on the screen. She hesitated before answering.

"Hey, Kate. Oh… is she? Okay, well… Yeah, I don’t think he’ll say anything again." She hung up and looked at Agatha. "That was fast. She’s pissed off."

"You said she can’t kill, right?" Y/n asked.

"No, she can’t. But she can come really, really close to it," Agatha admitted.

Before Y/n could respond, Rio reappeared in the room, her expression calm and collected. To Y/n’s surprise, she wasn’t covered in blood.

"They won’t ever ignore or argue with you again," Rio declared.

"Thanks?" Y/n said hesitantly.

"No maiming?" Agatha asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No. This was just a warning," Rio replied with a smirk.

"Boring," Alice commented.

"Effective, though," Jen countered.

Y/n sighed, burying her face in her hands. "Great. The next meeting will be stressful."

Agatha’s expression softened. She leaned forward, resting her hand gently on Y/n’s shoulder. "Listen, kid. Those weirdos might be your teammates, but you have us. We’re your family. Never forget that."

Rio nodded, sitting beside her. "No one messes with our girl and gets away with it."

Lilia’s soft voice chimed in from the corner. "The universe can be cruel, but it’s nothing compared to us when someone hurts one of our own."

Jen and Alice nodded in agreement, their usual sarcasm replaced with quiet determination.

Agatha’s hand moved to Y/n’s hair again, her touch tender as she carefully smoothed the strands. "You’ve got more power in your little finger than most of those kids combined. Don’t let their nonsense shake you."

Y/n managed a small smile, feeling the weight on her shoulders lift slightly. Agatha and Rio were overbearing at times, but their protectiveness was a reminder that she wasn’t alone in this chaotic world.

"Thanks, Agatha. Thanks, Rio," Y/n murmured.

"That’s the spirit," Agatha said with a smirk.

Lilia added, "And if you ever doubt yourself, remember that you’re part of this family for a reason. We don’t choose just anyone."

[yeloenk]

i want to apologize more formally for answering the anon who gave me a false list of proshippers.

ever since making a post asking proshippers to please block me (i had some who were following me), people have been anonymously sending me some lists of proshippers/controversial people in the UTMV fandom.

i have answered a few, but only those that were calling out proshippers that have actually confirmed to be proshippers.

when i received this ask in particular, i just saw someone giving me a list with no ill-intent behind it. so, without giving much thought, i replied to the ask.

my intention with this was to let others know who to block/avoid; not to harass, witch-hunt, etc. i am aware that these kinds of lists can encourage this behavior, which i take responsibility for. i genuinely apologize for using my platform in this way—even if it was done unintentionally, it was still wrong of me to do.

this being said, i do NOT stand for harassment in any way, shape, or form. even if it is directed towards proshippers, that is no way to solve the real issue. proshippers need help, they do not need more reason to need help. purposefully going out of your way to stalk, bully, send threats, or ANYTHING of that nature is wrong.

i made my first apology in a panicked rush, once i saw people telling me that the anon was spreading misinformation. however, in that blog, i did not acknowledge how my actions could have harmed people listed (especially ones who were listed falsely).

if you were affected in any way by my response to this anon, i apologize personally to you. please know this was not my intent: even if you are a proshipper, my only thoughts regarding that ask was "hey! cool, a free blocklist."

everyone is human, and nobody should be treated this way. although i think proshippers are morally wrong, and need help/therapy, they are still real people behind the screen. real people affected by your actions: mine included. the best thing you can do in the situation of seeing a proshipper is blocking them instead of instigating interaction.

i will no longer be doing anything like this again now that i am taking into consideration that some people are using these lists as witch-hunt lists. i should have checked all of the names before replying, especially since the list included no proof whatsoever. in the future, i do promise to be mindful and very cautious when addressing topics like these, especially when it comes to checking facts.

i do hope i can be forgiven, but i understand if not. i understand my actions have consequences, and i understand i was in the wrong taking a hand in spreading false information and encouraging harassment.

the purpose of this apology is to acknowledge what i did wrong, learn from it, and move on. and, to clear up why i replied to the list. keep in mind that it is not an excuse for my actions, but a reason for them. i still made the choice to answer this ask and not at least clarify to block them instead of harassing them.

to the anon who sent that ask: do not spread false information, please. it only hurts those who are involved, nothing good comes out of it for either side.

one more thing i wish to add:

to the grown adults sending me asks, insulting me: what is wrong with you? i am a 16 year old. i am going to make mistakes. it's a part of life, a part of learning. if you seriously think you're doing good by being nasty to a kid on tumblr because of a stupid choice they made, you further strengthen my belief that proshippers need help.

there's also been people just blatantly insulting things about me that are unrelated to the situation as a whole? my art, for example. please stop.

i don't want my blog to be focused on drama, so i'm not going to post much at all about stuff like proshippers anymore. i'll probably just be sharing art for the most part.

[loki-zen]

also what alternative tumblr is that person on. that he's a groomer and a sexual predator is basically all 90% of locked tomb fandom has to say about john gaius.

I mean this is a common phenomenon on tumblr i think and really it's a consequence of what's wonderful about tumblr which is that most people aren't using tumblr in a way that feeds them all the same shit through The Algorithm, they're using tumblr in ways that create completely different experiences of the website for different people. So sure, whatever, i believe them that "John Gaius is a Woke King" is all they see and they don't see stuff about him being a groomer; weirder things have happened! Apparently there are folks whose experience of tumblr is that they're always interacting with queer people who don't follow or reblog from any transfeminine people, and moreover that it's possible for people who aren't consciously deliberately avoiding transfems to end up in such a situation by accident, which sounds like a description of a whole other website to me but who knows! Maybe that's just the circles I'm in. I know there's people who claim that they block anyone who doesn't put their age in their bio on sight; logically I must assume that these people are largely interacting with a completely different "Tumblr" than the one i see and am a part of.

But yeah anyway, yeh those are the takes I've been seeing too, at least lately. I'm not engaging with that person in that debate any more because it doesn't feel like that's gonna be productive, but I think it's blatantly the author's intent that we see John from both of these angles; that initially upon first discovering his existence we do see Jod as a bit of a (Problematic, for sure!) Woke King.

After all, we grew up in a world only a generation and change into women being legally considered full adult humans - to the extent that we can be said to have achieved that at all - and the prototypical TLT reader is going to find it very personally affecting to dive into a world where a girl can grow up on ideals of butch womanhood apparently completely normalised in mainstream comics (which, yes, are likely also military recruitment propaganda); Where nobody considers it worthy of comment that a large number of the important political leaders are women; where indeed powerful women are capable of the arrogance of one who has never been required to justify herself or Overcome Adversity to get where she is; Where as far as we can tell, there is no word for "lesbian" or "sapphic" because the ordinary unmarked concept of "attraction" is just assumed to contain attraction between women, by default. It's perhaps a little easier to miss on the first read (or it was for me, with my perspective, I don't doubt that it may be different for others), but we're also looking at a world where there's no trace of racial divisions as we know them, not even the vestigial nomenclature that would lead a narrator from our universe to be more likely to at least classify characters as "white" or "black" or whatever else instead of solely describing their physical appearances, including skin tones, as if this simply wasn't a relevant distinction.

It makes perfect sense to think of a bisexual mixed race guy from approximately our world who made his space empire colourblind, queer-positive and gender-egalitarian as kind of a 'Woke King', and the positive affect we have towards him as a result of all this is imo intentionally there as a complicating factor when we notice all the rest of it.

It's like yes he's an abuser, and he's one of those abusers with (at least partially) completely genuine leftist/feminist/queer/woke bona fides, they exist and really the fact that so many people will insist you can either have those or be an abuser is incredibly helpful to them vis a vis getting away with it.

[redbeardace]

How To Make Ginormous Flags

You may have seen the ginormous pride flags I have. If not, here's one:

Many of you have asked where I obtained such large flags. Read on, for I shall reveal all.

These flags are roughly 20 feet wide and 12 feet tall, or around 6m x 4m (I know those dimensions aren't really equivalent, but more on that later...). It actually is possible to just buy flags of that size (and bigger) from a flag maker. It will probably be better quality than these, but also significantly more expensive. It didn't take me long to find a queer-owned flag maker that's selling 50' pride flags, if you've got $1600 to spare. This size, it looks like they have one for about $450, which is cheaper than others I've seen.

I didn't go that route, though. I didn't actually buy a ginormous flag at all. And it still wasn't cheap, each of these flags probably cost $150 for materials and took a couple of hours (at a bit of back pain) to assemble. Keep reading to see what I did.

Part 1: The Four Quarters

If you've followed me for a while (or if you've looked in the Tumblr GIF selector for all manner of pride flags), you've probably noticed that I have some very large flags. These very large flags are "only" 10'x6', or 3m x 2m. Here's an example:

As you can see, that is a very large flag. Large, but not ginormous. However, it's the largest size that digital flag printers seem to do, at least without custom orders that involve talking to salespeople and getting quotes, etc. The rest of this post could be seen as the extremes I will go to in order to avoid having to talk to someone.

I got a bunch of flags this size from a place called Anley. Don't consider that an endorsement, it's just who I used because I didn't have to talk to anyone. Their prices start at $30 for a flag that size, but they have a volume discount to drops it to about $25 if you order four.

Why is that notable? Well, because each of these ginormous flags is actually four of those smaller size flags fabric taped together. If you look at the animated GIF at the top of this post, you can see where the seams are, especially in the middle of the white stripe on the trans flag.

So, the first step is to split the design of the flag you want to make into four quarters, like this:

In the case of the non-binary flag here, you can see that the top two quarters are the same, and the bottom two quarters are the same. That's convenient, because you only have to buy two different designs, just buy two copies of each.

Symmetrical flags, like the trans flag or gray-ace are even easier, because they actually just need four copies of the same design, as seen here:

Some flags, like the demi flags, will end up with four completely different panels.

A note of caution: Any flag with an odd number of stripes will end up with the center stripe being split down the middle. This means that the width of the stripes on each panel will vary, with the center stripe only being half-width. When you order the panels, be sure to tell them that this difference is intentional, and be sure to check the proofs they send you. I learned this from experience. I was three quarters of the way through taping together an aro flag when I realized that the central stripe was twice as tall as it should have been. Wasted a lot of time, tape, and money, on a flag that ended up looking like this:

That's clearly not what you want to have happen.

These flag makers will ask whether you want grommets or a sleeve, and where you want the grommets. For the purposes of flying it from a flagpole, you'll want the "Two Side Grommets" option. That should give you a reinforced edge along one side of the panels. (If you had a flag that required four completely different panels like the demi flags, you'll probably have to reverse the images for the right half of the flag so that the reinforced edge doesn't end up in the middle, or you'll have to do "four grommets" or something so there is no edge, or you know what this is too complicated for me to think about right now because I haven't done it so I'm just going to leave that as an exercise to the reader so good luck.)

Here's what the panels for the ginormous flag will look like when you get them:

Part 2: Assembly Prep

After you've received the flags, you're ready to assemble. If you have a sewing machine and the skill to sew in long straight lines, then you can do that to connect the panels. I, on the other hand, have zero confidence in my ability to sew like that, so I used some permanent fabric tape that I got at the craft store. Either way, a lot of the same strategies will work.

One thing you don't want to do is use both tape and a sewing machine, unless you want to get your sewing machine all gummed up. Learned that one the hard way...

In order to connect the panels, I taped together the left side panels and the right side panels separately, then taped the left and right halves together. Like so:

The main reason I did it this way is because it keeps each individual run about the same length. Seams 1 and 2 are 10 feet each, and seam 3 is 12 feet. If you taped the tops and bottoms together first, you'd have two 6 foot runs, followed by a monstrous 20 foot run. My assembly room floor (literally my kitchen floor...) isn't nearly big enough for that. It can't even fit the 10 foot runs...

I used permanent fabric tape to stick things together. It looks like this:

No matter how you decide to put the panels together, you're going to need about 32 feet of this stuff. For this brand, that's about a roll and a half.

Now, get your work area ready. I used the kitchen floor because it was the largest space to work on, and the hard surface meant I could press firmly on the tape and not have it sink into carpet. If you have a large table, that will probably work, too. If you use the floor like I did, be sure to clean it first...

Part 3: Assembly

Before you start taping things together, let's pause for some quick words of advice:

Double check everything before you start taping things together. Be ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that you have the stripes in the right order and that you're taping the right edges of the flags together. You won't be able to undo.

This tape is very sticky. It will stick the flags, which is great, but it will stick to you, it will stick to itself, it will stick to passing pets or friends, it will stick to the wrong parts of the flags. And if it does stick to any of those things, it may never want to let go. So be very very careful with the stuff. I rarely peel the backing off more than a few inches at a time. Anything more than that is a waiting catastrophe.

Double check everything again.

If you ever twist or fold the flags, make sure that you're taping the same sides together. I'll make a note of that in a bit where I've run into problems with that.

Start by placing the two parts of the flag you want to connect on your work surface and aligning the correct edges.

Okay, now, are you double checking everything? Do you see what's wrong here? I almost connected the wrong sides of this flag, which would have been an expensive mistake. So again, double check EVERYTHING. Even if you think you know the order of the stripes on the flag you're doing, don't wing it here. Go get an example and compare it to make sure.

There we go, that's better.

I always start from the reinforced edge, because it's a nice wide thing to connect, and it makes me confirm that I'm taping things the right direction.

Cut about an inch of the tape and press it firmly onto the edge of one of the sides. Peel off the backing and carefully line up the edge of the flags, make sure that you're overlapping the tape entirely, and press firmly to stick the two pieces together.

Congratulations, you can't back out now!

Before you move on, pay very close attention to how the two panels are overlapping. In this case, I did the purple side over the white side, but it doesn't matter which one you choose, just that you're consistent along the entire seam.

Now, you might be tempted to just continue taping the seam all the way to the other side, but do not do that! I learned from failure that is not a good idea. You'll end up pulling the two flags at different tensions and the two flags are probably slightly different sizes anyway, so the end result of trying to do it all in one big run will be a couple of inches of mistake at the far end. You don't want that.

Instead, what you want to do is connect the two flags at the far end first. This ensures that the ends are perfectly aligned, no matter how far off your tensioning is. However, remember how I mentioned that you want to make sure that you pay attention to how the panels are overlapping? This is where that is critical. You have to make sure that you tape the other end the same way you taped the first end. I did the purple on top the first time, so it's purple on top this time, too.

Just to make that point clear: Do both sides the same way! It's easy here because it's purple on top, hiding the white seam. But if you have a flag where both sides are the same color (which you will no matter what, a few steps from now...), you really have to be careful here. Do not press the tape or sew anything until you're sure about it.

Okay, so now you've got the two ends stuck together, and a whole bunch of loose seam in the middle. You still do not want to tape this yet! First, you need to put a couple of "checkpoints" along the way. ?You see, if you just connect the two sides as-is, you'll still have the tension problem. Instead of having the end misaligned by a few inches, you'll have a few inches of slack on one side, just hanging freely. You don't want that.

So what I did was tape together another couple of places along the way. Specifically, I taped together the middle and then the midway point of those two halves. This divided the edge into four sections. Here's a diagram showing where I taped, and the order that I taped in:

Start with the edges, do the middle, then do the last two. You don't have to be exact, you just want to be close enough. I usually fold the panels in half to get point 3, then unfold it and eyeball where 4 and 5 should go.

What this does is divide the edge into four smaller pieces. Instead of building up the error across 10 feet at a time, you're only going 2.5 feet at a time. That means that any mistake you accumulate will be much smaller, and you'll be able to adjust your taping to make it less noticeable.

Oh, and again, make sure that you're taping things the right way at each of these points. You don't want to have a bit where you suddenly flip which side is on top.

Okay, so now that you've got all the checkpoints in place, you're ready to tape the rest of the seam together. Start by putting the tape on one side, and unroll a few inches.

Be sure that it's aligned with the edge of the panel, then press firmly. You only want to do a few inches at a time. If you unroll too much, the tape has a magical way of sticking to everything, including itself, and you'll end up with a tangled, sticky mess. It's a good idea to press the tape down as you're unrolling, to prevent mishaps.

Run your fingers along it to make sure that it's pressed strongly against the fabric. However, do not peel off the backing just yet. Just unroll a few inches, press, unroll a few more, press, but don't join together the two panels yet. Keep going until you hit the first checkpoint, then cut the tape.

At this point, you have tape firmly pressed against one side. You don't have to get the tape all the way to the existing tape on the checkpoint, but get it close.

Okay, now you're ready to peel off the paper backing, a couple of inches at a time.

Peel off the backing, then align the second panel with the newly exposed sticky tape, and carefully press it down. There are a couple of things to note:

First, only do this a couple of inches at a time or you end up with a sticky, tangled mess. I know I already said that, but it bears repeating.

Second, make sure that you align the edge of the panel with the edge of the tap, and NOT the edge of the other hem. You can see in the picture that the tape is nearly twice as wide as the hem is, so use all of that. If you align hem-to-hem, you'll leave a bunch of the tape exposed and, you guessed it, sticky tangled mess.

And finally, watch your tension! You want to pull on both sides equally so that everything aligns properly. If you start getting to the edge of the section, try to see how much fabric you have left to work with, and adjust as you go. You want to try to hit that checkpoint with as little slack fabric as possible.

However...

You should expect to have a little bit of slack on one side or the other when you get there. Try to fold and pinch the fabric a bit to even out the extra as much as you can.

Congratulations! You've now stuck together a quarter of one of the three seams you have to do!

Run your fingers firmly over the part of the seam you've just done several times. Push hard. You want to make sure it's all stuck together well.

Now, repeat these steps until you've gotten the entire seam between the two panels stuck together firmly.

When I have a full edge taped together, I'll pick it up and check that everything is taped well. Look for gaps and fix them. Grab both sides firmly and quickly tug the pieces to make sure they hold together. I go down the whole edge, tugging every foot or so.

You've now assembled half of the flag! Only 22 more feet to go!

Now do the second half the same way, then proceed to the next section when you're ready to join together the two halves.

Part 4: Assembly, Part 2.

You've got two halves of a giant flag, now it's time for the final assembly. This actually ends up being a bit easier than the first part, because you can match the stripes together.

You basically do this the same way you did the first panels. Start with the ends, like you did the first time.

Remember a while back, where I mentioned having a flag where both sides are the same color? And I said you were going to have one no matter what? Well, here's that "No Matter What" moment. You have to be EXTRA cautious here, because both sides of the flag that you're joining are going to be the same color. So be super sure which panel you're putting on top and which you're putting on the bottom as you go.

One thing that's really convenient about doing this last seam is that the stripes themselves can show you where to put the checkpoints. Make sure you align the color transitions exactly as you go.

For the most part, taping the rest of this seam will be the same as the ones you've already done, so all the same tips apply. Go slowly, press firmly, avoid sticky tangles, and always keep track of which side is on top. Then press along the seam firmly several times when you're done, and do the tug test.

Step 5: Victory!

If all went well, then congratulations! You now have a ginormous flag!

I'm apparently out of pictures for this post, which is probably a good thing anyway, because the flag is kinda too big to take a picture of anyhow.

Now that you've got a ginormous flag, you have to fly it somehow. I use a 20 foot tall telescopic painter's pole, and clip the flag to that. It can be very hard to wrangle, so be careful and don't fly it in the middle of a lot of people. You really should have a 40 foot wide safety exclusion zone around the pole to keep people safe...

Anyway, have fun with your new ginormous flag!

(And if you sew, I apologize for my technique...)

[cynthiav06]

Ok, sorry if this is personal.

But how many people sent you hate for criticising and disliking Percabeth?

Also, how many of them sent you terrible reasons to defend Percabeth.

It's happened to me too. I'm so concerned for people like that.

Okay, bear with me on this. I might go on a tangent, and this might get long. ( Spoilers: It did get long.)

This fandom was one of the most close-minded fandoms ever and still is to some extent where liking anything outside of popular opinions or canon ships was, is taboo and shunned upon.

But things have gotten better in recent years or so, I think. Because I have been on tumblr officially for just 2 years, and I started posting like a year and a half ago. And you would be surprised to hear me say this, but I think Percy Jackson fandom is still somehow on the low end of the toxicity spectrum compared to the other fandoms I was and am in.

I got a tumblr account first through The Orignals and TVD fandom cause a YouTuber friend urged me to post about my takes on the Klayley ship over here. I mean, I was on here before that cause I was and am in many other book fandoms along with Spn fandom, but the point is I interacted more with tvdu and spn cause usually most other book fandoms at least for the ones I prefer are pretty chill.

Also, if you know anything about the TVDU universe, you would know that people are freaks for Klaroline, a ship I dislike with intensity, and it has a large backing and oh the sheer murderous intensity of those shippers.

Do I even need to say anything about Spn? I mean, tumblr runs on Supernatural fandom, so yeah, the toxicity can go to a whole new level, especially considering the actors are also dragged in it. But I digress, so yeah, Percy Jackson fandom isn't even close.

And since I was used to that and a more intense atmosphere, I found toxic Percabeth shippers extremely mild in comparison. So I might have less of an extreme attitude on their takes. Personally, I have never received a death threat ever in the pjo fandom, but I have been told that it used to be excessively common a good 2-3 years back by fellow mutuals.

So if you have had experiences with any of that, I am very sorry, and hopefully, you realize that some people and certain opinions are so repulsive and brainless that they do not deserve to be considered.

Another thing that's happened that's good is anti tags have become very handy for you know people who want to avoid seeing hate content on things they like. So most Percabeth shippers, the somewhat sensible ones, steer away from anti percabeth tags and given the butchering that Rick is doing to the already butchered ship in his new abomination of a trilogy, Percabeth shippers have learned to pick their battles. But yes, there are still the occasional hate comments, which some you delete, some you ignore because it's always something bullshit.

When I first began posting I was more on the extremely controversial side of the fandom but you know in the recent year the anti percabeth tag has grown, the fandom has finally started letting ships become more diverse and the arguments against the Canon ships have become more and more grounded.

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

Now, to the important part, what is their usual defense?

1.

Well, firstly, no anti Percabeth shipper is really authentic unless they have had to fight the misogynistic allegations. "You hate the ship because you hate Annabeth. You are jealous of her and are a misogynistic person."

Yes, I do hate Annabeth. It's an opinion reached out of personal maturity. Yes I am a woman, and women can definitely be misogynistic, but do I hate Annabeth because of that? God no, I have much better reasons for hating Annabeth. Literally half my blog is highlighting how toxic and controlling she becomes.

I also hate her because she could have obviously been so much more. She has such good backstory, realistic motivations, and a very prevalent flaw to overcome, and the fact that her character just devolved with each book is such a painful thing to read. How no one on their side even addresses that the flaws exist is literally beyond me.

2.

The second most common reason I get is that Rick based Percabeth on his own marriage.

Listen, people, when someone says that they based something off of something, doesn't mean it's the same thing. Parodies are based off of the orignal but are nothing like the orignal.

Plus, the fact that Rick has terrible consistency throughout the books and forgets many plot points would tell you that he has no idea how to develop some of these things.

The idea isn't the one being criticized here. The evolution of that idea is. None of Annabeth's flaws were tackled for more than a single instance of the plot and forgotten immediately after.

Her controlling nature towards Percy, her blaming Percy for getting kidnapped and being brainwashed, her making him apologize for it; her trying to limit his powers, having a great misunderstanding regarding the Akhyls situation and just straight up ordering Percy not to use one of his key abilities even if to defend himself and we getting a follow up on that disastrous situation when Percy no longer defends himself and almost dies against Kympoleia and Polybotes.

3.

I recently got these ones a lot. Either they blame me for not tagging anti when I already have tagged anti and always tag anti first. I think two of these comments are still visible on my "How impressive you have to be to pull Percy post?"

The next one is me being biased, and all my reasons are not valid cause I am biased and hate Annabeth, so neither of my actual canon based evidence is true.

Pick a lane people. Either let us have our opinion or have the guts to argue rationally on this.

Another thing I do is that while I always tag anti, just in case, some Percabeth fan ends up on my post, there's always a section for Percabeth stans which contains my usual queries or concerns regarding whatever recent take I am elaborating and it always starts with my mild suggestion of being calm and rational and then thinking my points over. Usually, it acts as a buffer between hateful or frustration induced rants.

Either way, it's just the integral part of being in a fandom. Stuff like this happens, it's not good, but it happens.

The trick is to have a respectful conversation with those willing to listen and ignore the rest. It will lessen with time, and if you stick to the anti tag, it will help in reducing most of the unnecessary arguments.

I don't know if there's much I can do to help you, but I hope the post is at least somewhat helpful. I always appreciate feedbacks.

[nart-is-a-monster]

The following post contains people hating on a character on a skirt and a brief mention of sa and unaliving, please if any of those is something that triggers you skip the post and take care of yourself.

lets begin with the boundaries that i have

I do not feel comfortable with minors going to this or my nsfw acc simply because, is not a safe place for you to go (not even social media too but that's a different talk)

I do not like people going into any of my acc's to send my draws or content to minors bc... bitch do i even have to explain how fucked up that part is?

And last but not least; if you're going to talk shit about me at least talk shit with bases and evidence, how do you not have the first and most important rule about gossip? like??????

booooo tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes

I will not name anyone that was involved because first of all,they are minors and even tho they are old enough to know that what they're doing is wrong, naming them could do more harm than good and I think they are able to change if they just accept that their actions have consequences.... I'll be also using neutral pronouns for the ppl involved.

if you know the ppl that are in the screenshots please don't share their social media or acc's to avoid them getting harassed, also please don't harass the people mentioned here.

with that being said!

this situation has been happening for i think the last month when someone informed me about someone talking shit about my art on a private discord server.

I think that the concept of blocking blogs that have stuff that you're triggered or you don't vibe with is very simple to understand.

the persons that have been talking about how i don't draw normal stuff and how dare i to draw varian in a dress and being cute ohh no god forbid....

I don't know if you can't realize maybe I'm drawing Varian (A CHARACTER THAT DOESNT EVEN EXISTS) as trans masc and trans fem, and that anyone can have their hc and any hc are valid!

IF YOU DON'T LIKE WHAT I DO OR DRAW JUST DON'T FOLLOW ME ¡is that simple!

the situation with the person who is the owner of the server where they talk shit about me has not moderate well the place and allowed ppl to hate talk about a creator who they don't even know, neither talk to, nor they should interact with.

I tried to confront the person by sending them a text message on tumblr, said text message has been ignored and the person simply uploaded a new post back then, so....

also im going to tag this with vat7k bc the problem happened inside the fandom.

screenshots and more details under the cut

how to respect other people's boundaries

aparently y'all need a tutorial

"A certain kind of guided, detailed writing can not only help us process what we’ve been through and assist us as we envision a path forward; it can lower our blood pressure, strengthen our immune systems, and increase our general well-being. Expressive writing can result in a reduction in stress, anxiety, and depression; improve our sleep and performance; and bring us greater focus and clarity."

this is from an article of harvard that explains how writting helps to heal trauma.

remember to inform yourself before talking or using terms you don't know the meaning

trauma bonding definition

what is destructive criticism

I can accept criticism when it comes from a place of pointing out a part of my artwork that can be upgraded or a different technique i could use, or even the pose or the technical aspect of a painting/drawing, what is literally just insulting an artwork because you don't like it and have no grounds for it and is just hate... that's what i don't accept.

criticism and arguments come from a ground of respect from the both sides, not from only straight up hate and disrespect.

that's all i have to say abt it all...

please remember to be safe online and even more if youre a minor

how to be safe online

[dailyrothko]

Hi! I’m already drawn to Rothko’s art so much just by looking at his paintings on my tiny phone screen. But it is quite unlikely that I’ll get to see his paintings irl, at least not for a few years. Would you mind sharing your experience of looking at a Rothko? Thank you for putting in the work on this blog :)

Hi, I'm sorry I didn't answer this sooner but Tumblr has not been notified me that I have messages and I forgot to check. I've had a coupled of weeks of insomnia so you may have to forgive some languid prose.

In my early viewings of Rothko, I think my reactions were fairly standard exchanges with modern art when you're getting acclimated. Among these, were how big the paintings were, and I duplicated this surprise in my viewings of a couple of other abstract, expressionist painters, notably in my mind, Franz Kline, Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner along with Rothko.

I think there's a hand in the hand reaction about the size that then you are aware the paintings are not hard edged, the way, say an Ellsworth Kelly painting would be. There's a plastic look effective in pop-art that Rothko strenuously avoided. They are undeniably sensual, almost romantic.

Once you get the size, you can really appreciate this because when you read art monographs or look at the internet, the lens is so reduced, one tends to get a constricted notion of color squares like you would see in a color theory book. However, the face-to-face confrontation reveals quite the opposite feeling of that kind of art.

It's a little hard to describe, but it's not that the paintings are completely soft. They have a lot of minor details, brushstrokes, stray lines and bits of splattered paint, but none of those colliding forces interfere with an overall limitless impression of the form that makes it very different from hard edge or gestural painting (like de Kooning). Part of what's hard to describe, is how it is not soft, but rather translucent, not vague, but flowering out to infinity.

I find with Rothko in particular that when you start looking, you want to keep looking. I suppose one of his detractors might say you're doing it because you're looking for something where there is nothing, but my experience with art is that, where there is nothing you quickly move on. Rothko might be equated in some minds with an Antonioni movie (Certainly Antonioni himself thought this) where it has a quality of nothingness but not one of no meaning. We read meaning into everything we are exposed to, it's part of how our brains process things, but perhaps Rothko's great skill is inviting you to look. i would not be the first to think so.

My tendency to invest in things I like leads me to unconsciously test myself as if from the outside, making sure that I am not fooling myself as to the merit of it (who wants to be a sucker, right?) and, I've seen a couple over the years that I felt didn't age well, maybe, something about them didn't look as alive, not the color combinations, but possibly something with the paint dulling overtime. I don't think galleries like to talk about it because the artist so valuable as an investment, but you do see, if rarely, paintings would you feel maybe age got the better of. Much of this, though can be attributed to the way light works with Rothko. The public tends to gripe when a gallery is not brightly lit, but Rothkos tend to wilt under bright lights and lose depth. This has a lot to do with the fact that Rothko painted in dim light like El Greco, and voiced his paintings to speak this way.

When they do work, which is quite often, it's pretty vivid, and I feel, entrancing. When I first got really interested in Rothko in my late teenage years, I did not know a single person who was interested in it among my group of friends and I bought a poster from the cover of Bonnie Clearwater's works on paper book and I hung it on my wall. It was a conversation starter because nobody liked it! I suppose that's the age where some people are geared towards something more classically punchy.

My feeling of the paintings, especially early in my life, remind me of an effect one might feel from music that you've never heard before, much like the response I had from the early rural blues music of the late 1920s. I didn't know how much I loved it exactly, I only knew that it was powerfully beckoning me to return. And, as one returns, you participate in a communion. You relax into it and the feelings you have rise to the surface, sometimes framing emotionally charged interchange between you and the art. I think that's a lovely thing to get from whatever kind of art you like.

Now, I am kind of an old hand at seeing Rothko paintings, but I rarely cease to be surprised by them and that maybe that is their finest attribute.

I can't imagine this helps much, but I hope that when you do see one in person, you will write and share your impressions, because after all, they are the ones that count

[hug-them-trees]

My incomplete thoughts on the DDBA premiere (and spoilers so do not read if you haven’t seen it)

First, the obvious CGI of the bullseye fight scene made me feel a little icky and I felt like it took away from the gravity of the situation almost? Like I know Matt swings around and shit in the comics but it doesn’t feel *real* the way the Daredevil I know and love does. I hope they go back to a bit more of the practical effects over CGI in the future or at least make the CGI feel more real lmao.

Second, Foggy’s death felt soooo sudden. Also not real. I think I was just in shock the entire time, no tears or nothing which is not very typical of me. The score is usually what sells these kinds of scenes and I didn’t feel that here. I don’t know if this was intentional or not, and I’ve seen several people here pointing out that Foggy faked his death in the comics, which I’m hoping is the case here because if it’s not they’re kind of doing him dirty.

Third, Fisk felt a lot less Fisky? Like it seems like he’s a different person almost even though Vincent is still playing him. Some of his mannerisms are the same but a lot feels like it’s changed and I feel like that HAS to be intentional, I just don’t know where it’s going just yet.

Fourth, it absolutely makes sense to me that Matt stopped being daredevil after foggy dies. Foggy has never liked Matt’s so called other life, so part of it is to honor him in that sense. But Matt also definitely feels at fault for foggy getting killed, because if he hadn’t gone chasing after bullseye blindly he would have been there with foggy when bullseye showed up. So yeah, combo of those two things means in his grief Matt is absolutely going to hang up the mantle, and every time he thinks about doing it again another wave of grief washes over him and stops him.

Fifth, they never explain how Fisk got out of prison. Idk if this is coming later or what, but in Hawkeye and echo he just shows up and here all that’s mentioned is the fact that Maya shot him and that he remembers the deal from s3. That deal also involved Fisk staying in prison for the rest of his life so someone has to explain what happened or I am Losing it.

Sixth, Karen looked gooood like goddamn those curtain bangs really suit her. Also her leaving to go to San Francisco makes sense in the context that Matt basically shut her out in the weeks after foggys death and she still hasn’t forgiven him for that. And if the tumblr girlies are right and foggy is faking his death then it also makes sense that she would know and is avoiding Matt bc of it.

Seventh, idk how to feel about the BB report interludes, like her as a character and the media with which she operates makes a lot of sense to me but the way they so suddenly put them in there feels a little weird but also it feels like it has to be leading up to something. Also that boy never gave BB her phone back did anyone else notice this???

Eighth, the END of episode 2 had to be my favorite part because we are so back babey. The sass with which mans says “I’m visually impaired id love to help” is so funny to me. I’m also so curious to see what happens when these cops see him in court again because the blind lawyer just beat their asses but can they say anything about it cuz then they’d have to admit they were trying to kill Nicky and Matt and also nobody would believe them lmao

I did like the second episode quite a lot more than the first, and I do think overall the show has potential and I will definitely be watching the rest of the episodes. I’m excited to see Muse (who may or may not be that one dude at the book signing? Anyone?) and also see Matt beat up more people hehe

[thedarkestcrow]

10th Blog Anniversary!

Hello everyone, today, March 8th 2025, is the 10th anniversary of my blog here on Tumblr. I know I’ve been almost inactive for the past year, and it’s been relatively quiet here for even longer. With the manga being on hiatus and many of my mutuals focusing on other fandoms or becoming quiet here as well, I didn’t really have much to write about and quite frankly, I didn’t really feel like it, either.

However, this blog is still very dear to me. Even though I’m not posting much, I still check on it regularly. Since today marks the 10th year of this blog’s existence, I wanted to at least do something here. It’s crazy that it’s been 10 years already. When I first started here, it was because I wanted to follow some blogs that provided great content for my favorite manga at the time, be it spoilers for new chapters, translations from Yana’s blog at the time, beautiful art, or interesting theories. But then I started contributing my own content, first with some edits and later with my own theories or analyses which has shaped my blog into what it is today. I got to interact with so many people who share the same love for Kuro. And for that, I’m very grateful.

I know the fandom hasn’t always been nice to each other, there were (and probably still are) sensitive topics that led to nasty arguments that escalated to disgusting insults on a personal level. Fortunately, I’ve never really been on the receiving end of this, probably because I’ve tried to avoid engaging in such conflicts. I love discussion and differing opinions on all sorts of topics. That’s what gives rise to new ideas and perspectives. But it’s important to remain respectful, even or especially towards someone who has a different opinion. After all, we’re all part of the same fandom, so we should stick together and respect each other.

That said – and on a lighter note – I believe the majority of the fandom consists of really great people. That’s been my experience over these past 10 years here. So to those people, thank you! Thank you for sharing your content, be it art, stories, theories, ideas, thoughts and so much more. Thank you for keeping up with me for all these years. Thank you for being nice and making this a fun place on the internet to be. For the most part, I’ve enjoyed running this blog for the past 10 years, and I’ll always have fond memories of my time here.

With the Emerald Witch Arc being animated starting in April and with Yana preparing for the final arc of the manga, I expect more Kuro content and maybe (just maybe) that will get me to be more active here again. I won’t make any promises though, it probably won’t happen until the manga returns and even then it might only be occasionally. Just know that this blog is not abandoned yet.

For the 10th anniversary of my blog I have prepared some posts, at least for today. I hope you’ll enjoy them. Take care, everyone!

[torscrawls]

A Ghost by Any Other Name ch.4

You can read it on AO3!

If you prefer tumblr: Chapter 1 can be found here. Chapter 2 can be found here. Chapter 3 can be found here.

--

Danny couldn't stop thinking about Tim's questions about where he was from.

A big part of him hadn't wanted to tell the truth, but a bigger part hadn't wanted to lie.

When they—he, Sam, and Tucker—had crafted his new identity they had decided to keep Danny's hometown as Amity Park because it was easier not to slip up if he had fewer lies to keep track of. And Danny already had more than enough of those.

They had banked on Amity being a small enough town that no one would recognize it, and more importantly; not recognize him.

But of course people would ask about his past, it was a normal thing to do between friends. Right? There was no reason to panic. 

Danny just had to become better at quelling the panic and remember the lies so that no one got suspicious and figured him out.

Sadly—or thankfully?—he didn't have time to dwell on the fact that his one and only new friendship was one wrong question away from crumbling, not now when ghosts had started appearing in Gotham.

So far he had been able to avoid getting dragged back into the fighting by threatening most of the ghosts that had shown up to leave him, and the city, alone. Several years of fighting had, if nothing else, made sure that most ghosts at least listened to him.

Which was good since Gotham’s own vigilantes arrived quickly at almost every scene and Danny didn’t want to risk using his ghostly abilities too much and reveal himself, or—even worse—bring his parents here.

That wasn't to say that he was ready to fight if he had to, because he absolutely wasn't. He wasn't even sure he could fight right now with how his body felt.

At first he had chalked it up to a side effect of his massive growth spurt, especially since he very much doubted that it was of a normal, human origin. What with the late and sudden onset, the unnatural speed with which he had shot up and filled out, and considering his increasingly otherworldly appearance it probably had a ghostly origin.

But he doubted that it was the root-cause of his sickness since he had stopped growing, but was only feeling worse.

Maybe his sickness was a side effect of getting his arm removed under such traumatic circumstances. Maybe it was some sort of infection. 

He had almost gotten used to the alarming looks his sudden dizziness earned him and his staggering runs to the bathroom to throw up—what felt like—all his insides. His constant joint pain that wasn't helped by his cobbled together prosthetic arm. His headaches and his too-green nosebleeds.

Because of the whole on the run and living on the streets thing he had been trying out for the last few months, he hadn't exactly had the funds nor opportunity to go to a doctor and have the arm checked out and his own experiences and conversations over the phone with Sam, Tucker, and Jazz only got him so far. 

Now, he did have a job and an apartment but he really didn’t want to risk having to answer any hard questions on just how he managed to lose an entire arm and why he had then proceeded to quite obviously cauterize and stitch it up himself.

Of course, Danny knew one other person with a prosthetic arm and Frostbite had never withheld information from him, but he hadn't had a chance to meet up with the yeti again now that he had first-hand experience.

Whatever caused it, the fact of the matter was that Danny felt like shit and that he was happy he hadn't had to fight anyone lately. But with the number of ghost sightings rising every week, his luck might not last. He didn’t know why ghosts had started to appear in Gotham, but he wasn’t naïve enough to think he didn’t have anything to do with it. And if ghosts had started showing up in town because of him , then it was his responsibility to deal with them. 

History loves repeating itself.

Danny was currently busy coughing up a lung and trying not to let any of the ectoplasm that dribbled out of his mouth stain his clothes, all the while debating whether it was worth the trouble to stagger the rest of the way to the convenience store for his dinner, when he felt the all-too-familiar sensation of cold clawing its way up his throat and escaping through his gritted teeth.

Great.

And that was all he had time to think before he was body-slammed to the ground.

Danny tried to twist in the air, to get out from underneath whoever had attacked him, but large hands grabbed his shoulders and slammed him into the pavement. His face pressed against the rough ground and Danny instinctively raised a hand, ectoplasm building beneath his skin and ready to burst forth, before stopping himself and remembering his human disguise, that he couldn’t fight enemies openly anymore. Not as Dante Armstrong, regular dude, and definitely not as Phantom, his parents no.1 target.

Danny twisted enough under the weight pinning him down to glimpse Skulker grinning down at him with a victorious smile. He wasn’t surprised.

“What are you doing here, Skulker?” Danny gritted out.

“If you thought you could escape me by coming here, then you're dead wrong. I'll hunt you down wherever you go, little whelp.” Skulker grinned down at him with fire in his eyes as his hands tightened on Danny's shoulders until the grip went from uncomfortable to painful.

Ancients, Danny itched to blast the bastard right off him and into the nearest building. He had enough to deal with as it was without someone trying to skin him alive but there were people around, staring at them and screaming. Of course there was. He couldn't very well yell “ going ghost!” and expect no one to see him.

Despite what Jazz always said, he had learnt some things over the years.

But that didn’t mean that he would just lie here helplessly. He tried to buck the other ghost off with just a touch of super-strength, hoping no one saw anything out of the ordinary. If so; Danny would just have to find a new town to live in. It was okay. Really. The thought didn’t make him want to cry or anything.

Skulker growled and Danny decided to try the same approach he had used in most ghost attacks in Gotham. Talking to them. Jazz would be so proud. Even if the talking in question was more akin to threatening .

Danny made sure his fangs were on full display as he growled, “If you don't get off me right now I'll tear open that flimsy tin-can you call a body and drag you screaming out of your own mouth.”

Skulker paused. They had fought enough times for him to know that they weren't just empty words. Most ghosts just needed a little reminder.

Maybe not a preferred way of conflict resolution from a human standpoint, but far from mindless. Just another thing his parents had been wrong about.

Danny consciously flashed his eyes and Skulker immediately jumped back. As he staggered to his feet, Danny gasped as he tried to force the ectoplasm back down.

That short release of energy almost startled Danny from how good it felt. Like releasing some of the pressure on an over-pressurized pot. He had to wrestle back control not to let out any more than he already had, but he couldn’t risk doing that in the middle of the street.

But Ancients, he wanted to. For the first time in months, his headache lifted slightly.

He breathed deep to get himself back under control and lifted his prosthetic arm, as if aiming it at Skulker. “You're not the only one with inbuilt weapons anymore. You want to see what the weapon that took my arm would do to a full ghost?”

It was an empty threat, of course. Danny would never again go anywhere near that weapon if he could help it, much less carry it around, and he had absolutely no idea if it would be more or less dangerous to a full ghost. But Skulker didn’t know that.

“This isn’t over, whelp,” Skulker threatened as he floated backwards, eyes blazing. “I’ll get you eventually!”

“You’ve said that for years, and I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You won’t see me coming.”

“I’m shaking in my boots,” Danny deadpanned. Then he gestured with his arm, hoping that Skulker wouldn't see the way it was, in fact, shaking. “Now run along.”

Skulker swore and growled and grumbled, but he did turn invisible and fly away.

Danny felt his shoulders relax as his presence disappeared and he unsteadily lowered his arm back down, wincing at the pain radiating through his shoulder and back. He had been lucky; he didn’t know if he would have been able to actually win a fight with Skulker right then because of how bad he felt. Finally, he could go— 

And then Batman stood in front of him, as sudden and silent as any ghost.

Danny blinked in surprise as his brain automatically assessed the danger of the man in front of him; his multiple weapons tucked into his belt, his broad frame and muscular limbs, his sharp gaze fixed on Danny. Really, he was a lot more intimidating up close than he had been from the other side of the street, which was as close as Danny had gotten during the other ghost attacks.

Then he realized that he really should be trying to convince Batman that he was just an innocent civilian and definitely not involved with ghosts in any way, no sire.

Danny made his best impression of being scared and grateful for rescue, drawing from years of experience of being on the receiving end of it. “Oh, Batman! Thank you for saving me! I was so scared!”

Batman stared at where Skulker had been just a moment before for a few tense seconds before turning the full force of his attention towards Danny. And Danny froze, rooted to the ground, more scared now than he had been facing off against Skulker.

Batman kept his eyes on Danny, silent, but then Red Robin suddenly appeared at his side. Maybe being silent as ghosts were a prerequisite for being a vigilante.

Red Robin had a kinder look on his face than his colleague as he asked, “Are you hurt?”

“I—I don't think so. I don’t—” Danny didn’t have to fake the trembling of his limbs. “I don’t know what happened. Suddenly he just—”

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Red Robin said with practiced patience. “What’s your name?”

“It—It's Dante.”

“Alright, Danny, can you tell us what happened?” Red Robin asked and Danny fought hard not to flinch at the use of his nickname. That made two people who had immediately defaulted to Danny –Red Robin and Tim. He was going to kill Tucker.

Batman, apparently fed up with the niceties, glanced down at Danny's arm and asked, “What did you do to make the ghost leave?”

And wow, Danny was tempted to offer him a cough drop, speaking in such a growly voice couldn’t be good for you. He just shook his head, forcing his eyes to water—thank you Maddie and Jack for teaching him that skill, who knew that having to hide everything from his parents would make him really good at acting scared—as he stammered out a pathetic, “I—I don't know. I just tried to keep him away and—and I don't know.”

He really hoped that him threatening Skulker with his arm could be interpreted as him raising his hand to defend himself at a distance. 

“What did it say?” Batman pressed, no hint of sympathy in his voice.

Danny shook his head. “Nothing that made any sense.”

Batman looked at him in what Danny thought was disapproving silence before Red Robin jumped in again, attempting to smooth everything over. “Go easy on him. He looks scared out of his mind,” Red Robin said with clear sympathy in his voice.

And Danny was. Just not of the ghosts like they assumed. He was scared of them . Ghosts, he was used to, but the two people in front of him were the ones that could drive him out of his new home.

But Danny nodded intensely and put on his most terrified voice as he said, “I thought I was a goner! The ghost could have really hurt me!”

“So you do know about—” Red Robin started before cutting himself off.

“How do you know it was a ghost?” Batman asked as he sent Red Robin a glare and he stepped back, letting Batman take over.

Fuck, fuckity-fuck. He had wanted to stay as far away from Batman's radar as possible, not suddenly be the sole focus of his attention.

What if they found him out? What if they too decided that all ghosts were evil?…What if they also decided that they wanted to try and cure him?

“I—I don’t—” Danny stammered out, desperately trying to come up with a good excuse. He was a ghost fanatic? Too close to home. He had been hunted by the ghost in question for years because it wanted to skin him? No one would believe it. He was a half-dead hero fighting ghosts since his early teens? Great response if he wanted to be thrown into Arkham. Instead he landed on a very meek, “I watch the news?”

Batman didn’t even hesitate before firing off the next question, “I’ve seen you before. At these ghost-attacks. What were you doing there?”

Danny tensed up. Of course Batman had noticed him and put two-and-two together. He was the world’s greatest detective.

Then Batman continued, voice just as gruff as before, “Why haven’t you told anyone if they’re attacking you?”

Or not.

He thought that the ghosts were there to attack Danny? It wasn’t completely wrong, even if Danny generally was the one attacking them to stop them from attacking others. Still, it was… nice that people didn’t automatically assume that he was the bad guy. Danny cleared his throat and looked away. “I didn’t want to cause any trouble.”

“That didn’t really work out, did it?”

Red Robin had apparently had enough of being sidelined, which was kind of funny for a sidekick, and stepped back into the conversation, “It’s not his fault he was attacked. Stop grilling him.”

Danny wanted to agree, but apparently his throat had other ideas as it chose that moment to seize up and cause him to double over again, coughing until he winced in pain.

Red Robin placed a careful hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Batman’s gruff voice spoke up, “So you were hurt.”

“Yes,” Danny managed after a few deep breaths, ignoring how raspy his voice sounded. “Or, no. But it wasn't because of this.”

“Do you need to sit down?” Red Robin asked and if the concern in his voice was fake, he was even better than Danny.

Danny shook his head. “No, no, I need to go. I have a meeting with a friend and I’m already late.”

Red Robin withdrew his hand, sounding suddenly hesitant, almost guilty, as he said, “I’m sure they'd understand.”

Batman inserted himself into the conversation again with a, “We might need to get in contact with you to ask some further questions. What is your number?”

Red Robin rolled his eyes, and the fact that Danny could tell even behind the mask was a testament of just how often he must do it. “What he means is; Can you give us a number we can reach you at?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Do I get any in return?”

“No,” Batman immediately answered. Red Robin had no translation for that, just an apologetic shrug.

Danny let out a barking laugh. “At least you're honest.” So he rattled off his number and then scampered off, refusing to look over his shoulder but feeling eyes on his back the whole time until he turned a corner. 

He let himself slump against a wall, shaking legs barely holding him upright. Somehow he had survived. Still, he had thought he had gotten away from everything that had to do with ghosts. But now everyone here was asking him about them; Tim and Batman both.

He couldn’t afford any more slip-ups.

--

Danny dragged himself into work the next day, late and tired after his unplanned run-in with Skulker and subsequent meeting with Batman and Red Robin. To top off the whole evening Tim hadn’t even showed for their planned game-night, which might have been just as well since Danny had barely managed to get home before collapsing in bed.

After the short reprieve he felt after his confrontation with Skulker, stuffing all his ectoplasm back down felt even harder than before. It was as if that short, sweet, taste of freedom had made his body rebel even worse. The headache had come back with a vengeance and he held a handkerchief to his nose to stop the constant dripping, which alarmingly had started to turn more and more green. His joints hurt worse than right after the accident and if he wasn’t deathly afraid of losing his hard-earned job he would have stayed home and wallowed in his misery.

As it was, the walk to work hadn’t been easy with his whole body hurting even more than it usually did nowadays, even though he had left his prosthesis at home for the day.

When he finally stumbled through the door he was sweating, trembling, and wishing he had just caved and called in sick.

His misery and wallowing was interrupted when Tim poked his head into the room. “Hey, Danny, do you have time to take a look at something?”

Danny straightened up and plastered a smile on his face, hiding the paper he had been using to try and stem the blood dripping from his nose. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“I have a project that I need another pair of eyes on.” 

Danny sent his boss, an older woman named Hannah, a questioning look, but she simply stared at Tim with wide eyes and then gave Danny a nod. 

For some reason, his boss never seemed to mind when Danny went to help Tim with something. She never argued and she would just agree with wide eyes and an expression that almost looked awed as she immediately agreed. It was as if she thought Danny was unbelievably kind to help Tim out. As if she was impressed that Danny could stand Tim.

If his boss wasn't otherwise so nice, Danny would call her out on it.

“So what is this project you wanted help with?”

Tim seemed to be distracted by his phone as they walked through the corridors, but at that he looked up and smiled. “Oh, it’s nothing. You just looked like you needed a break. What’s up?”

Danny grimaced at the fact that he was apparently so easy to read. “I had a run-in with Batman.”

Tim placed his phone in his pocket. “Was it the ghost attack?” 

“How did you know?” Danny asked in surprise.

Tim’s gaze flickered to the side and back. “It’s on the news.”

“Yeah…” Danny let out a long sigh. Of course it was on the news, but since Tim hadn’t seemed to know that he’d been involved he took some solace in the fact that he probably hadn’t been mentioned. “I got stuck in the middle of it last night.”

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

Danny waved him off. “No, no, I’m fine. It’s not the first time I’ve been in a ghost atta—” Danny cut himself off. He was too tired to monitor everything he said. He cursed himself.

Tim perked up. “So you do know about ghosts?”

Which was the second time in as many days he had gotten that question. Was he really so bad at keeping secrets? “Why are you so interested in them?” Danny countered.

Why would Tim, his new friend in another town, suddenly ask about ghosts? Danny just wanted to forget his old life, god damn it!

It was Tim’s turn to look a bit hesitant. “Well. There’s been a lot of attacks in the city lately by villains that seem… Strange. So I thought that maybe they’re ghosts?”

Danny really had no idea if that was a normal conclusion to jump to or not. He was the first to admit that his perception was a bit skewed. “Maybe,” Danny allowed.

“So you do believe in ghosts?”

Danny was so tired and he really didn’t feel like denying his own existence today. “Yeah.”

“But… you said your hometown wasn’t haunted?”

Danny cursed himself. Again. When would he actually learn? “Well. It’s not? It’s more accurate to say it’s under attack.”

Tim blinked. “Right.” He stopped walking. “So you know a lot about them? The ghosts?”

“Everyone from Amity knows about ghosts to some degree,” Danny said with a strained smile and as always; careful not to show his teeth.

Tim raised an eyebrow. “And what degree are you?”

Danny shrunk in on himself, uncomfortable. “I mean… That depends… I don't really—” 

Tim leaned back, hands up and with a slightly guilty expression on his face. “Oh, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pressure you. It's just—” he exhaled forcibly and, after what seemed like a short internal debate, said, “We might be having some issues that we think miiiight be related to ghosts.”

That got Danny’s attention. A ghost he hadn’t noticed? That was an issue.

That didn't mean that he wanted to get involved with whatever this was but the least he could do was to listen to what Tim had to say. As a friend he owed him that, at least. 

Tim combed a hand through his hair with a strained laugh. “You're not laughing at me. That’s a start.” 

Danny raised an eyebrow. “I'm from Amity Park. I’m used to worse.” At Tim's nonplussed expression he clarified, “We have our fair share of whack-jobs.”

“Are you calling me a whack-job?” Tim asked with a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yes,” Danny deadpanned and smiled as Tim snorted, breaking some of the tension.

Tim took a deep breath and then hesitantly said, “I’m not really supposed to be talking about it, but honestly we’re at a bit of a dead-end. Do you think you’re up for bouncing some ideas?”

Now it was Danny’s turn to hesitate.

He didn’t want to get involved in any more ghostly problems. He had tried to get away. He had gotten away.

But it had really never mattered what he wanted, had it? The problems were already here, and if he had learnt something over the years since everything went to literal hell it was that ignoring your problems didn’t tend to solve them, it just made them haunt you.

No matter how much he wished otherwise.

Not that this came as a huge surprise, he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Suck on that Jazz! He hadn’t been paranoid!

So Danny sighed, and prepared himself to have everything he’d worked for come crashing down. Again. “Yeah, sure.”

Tim brightened up. “Really? You’re sure?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny waved him off. “I have to help if I can, right? So, what’s up?”

“Well, we have this… Computer. It's not very important.” 

Which meant that it was very important.

Tim continued, “And it’s getting attacked by… something.”

“Right. And why would just think ghosts and not, I don’t know, a normal virus?”

“Well. It learns and adapts quicker than any virus I’ve ever seen.” Tim fumbled his phone back out of his pocket. “Just. Here. Look at these logs.”

Danny looked down at the readings clearly displaying ectoplasmic activity and cursed his whole existence. The only silver lining being that it was restrained to a closed system which meant that his parents shouldn’t be able to pick up on it. But this meant that they were dealing with a big and important computer acting up with ghostly readings. Yeah, there was someone he knew that fit that M.O. Just to make sure, he asked, “This is from the attacks?”

“Yes,” Tim confirmed.

Danny heaved a  sigh. First Skulker and now Technus? Well. In for a penny… “I might know who it could be, but I need to see it to make sure.”

Underneath his absolutely overwhelming desire to do anything besides “making sure”, Danny found that he was impressed that they had been able to keep up with Technus until now. That was no easy task.

“Wait. Really?” Tim looked genuinely surprised.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “You asked me for help, didn't you?” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you would actually be able to help.”

Danny snorted. “Glad to disappoint.”

Tim laughed. “I'm glad you're disappointing!” 

Danny joined in, feeling a bit better about the whole disaster as he said, “Lead the way!” 

--

And that's how Danny found himself in an otherwise empty room occupied by a big computer which looked more high tech than anything he had seen before. Well, it looked to be composed of several different parts, but no less advanced for it. It reminded him of his parents’ and his own inventions; the best parts cobbled together to make something that was far beyond anything available on the market.

If Tim was the one who built it, then Danny suddenly felt a lot more comfortable with him poking around in his arm. The only question was; for what purpose was it built?

Danny didn't have very good experiences with rich people who liked to mess with science and computers.

He wondered if this computer also contained a creepy program modeled after some poor unsuspecting victim. Or data to make clones of a nearby child. Maybe even data about all the heroes in the world and plans how to take them down, or something equally ridiculous.

Tim looked from the computer, to Danny, and back, before saying, “Just try to focus on the ghost problem, alright?”

That only made him more interested, more curious. “Sure.”

But even that promise didn’t stop him from sneaking a few glances at the computer as he worked, but sadly he was unable to really get any useful information from it. Whoever owned it took security very seriously. After a short while, Danny leaned back and declared, “Yeah, it’s definitely Technus.”

“Technus?”

Danny just raised his voice as he said, “Yeah, Technus is a ghost who just sucks at everything that’s related to technology!” Danny made sure to pitch his voice even louder as he ignored Tim’s raised eyebrows, “He’s just the worst and everyone back home laughs at him! He can’t even figure out a light bulb!”

Tim frowned in confusion, but before he could do more than open his mouth, Technus—predictably—burst from the computer in a shower of sparks.

Tim staggered backwards. “Holy—”

“Yo, Nick,” Danny said with his hand raised in greeting. “So this is where you’ve been hiding out?”

“Ghost-boy,” Technus growled out, his body still halfway morphed into the computer. 

“I hope I’m not seeing you trying to possess this computer.” Danny tried to cross his arms, realized he only had one at the moment and settled for crossing it over his torso. “Do you want me to call Tucker?”

Technus froze. “No. I’ll just— I’ll just leave.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s for the best.” Then he added, “You know, my parents probably have some new tech for you to infect.”

Technus perked up, moving as if to leave, but then he hesitated and turned back to Danny. “I don’t want to owe you anything, so I’m going to give you some advice. All that ectoplasm leaking out is going to draw more of us in. You can’t contain a system failure, you know? You have to shut down the whole process or it’s going to cascade and destroy everything.”

With that ominous statement, Technus fizzled out like bad static and it wasn’t until Technus had left that Danny realized what he had just revealed to Tim about his own parents.

He relaxed minutely when Tim didn’t bring it up but instead didn’t waste any time before asking, “How did you do that?”

Danny shrugged.  “We have a sort of understanding.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to elaborate on that?”

“Not really.”

Danny could tell that Tim wanted to question him, but he must have looked as uncomfortable as he felt—and Tim must have realized that he wouldn’t say anything more—because Tim just pursed his lips and asked, “And what did you mean about your parents?”

Aaaand there it was.

“They’re inventors,” Danny hedged as he tried to play it off.

“That’s cool! What do they specialize in?” 

Danny waved him off. “Different things. Nothing you would recognize.”

Tim looked like he wanted to ask more, but then he stopped, tilted his head, and asked, “What did he mean about system failure?”

Danny was infinitely grateful for Tim’s curiosity at the moment. “Who knows?” Danny shrugged. “Ghosts are weird.”

Tim pouted. “Do you have tips for how we can make sure this doesn’t happen again?”

“Nick won’t be coming back.”

“But other ghosts might?”

“I mean… Yeah.” At least Danny hadn’t been able to get them to stay away permanently. Yet.

“Can I count on you to help with them if they do?”

Danny hesitated. He didn’t want to say no and disappoint his new friend, but he also didn’t want to promise to help with things he didn’t want to get involved with and he definitely didn’t want to get more involved with ghosts than he had to. He had worked hard to stay under the radar of both his parents and the Bats in Gotham, and this would definitely not do that. He had enough experience to know that accepting this would be a slippery slope right down into getting found out and subsequently, into trouble.

“I’ll think about it.”

Tim looked like he wanted to argue, to push, but then he swallowed it down, muttered what sounded like “not a mystery” and nodded. “Thanks. And thanks for getting the ghost out of the computer.”

“Don’t mention it,” Danny said, and hoped that Tim picked up on how literally he meant it.

[purplink8]

Hate hate HATE what the anime did to the way Sayu's kidnapping was handled (specifically by Light). The anime just wants to show how utterly devoid of love anime!Light (coz no manga!Light would never seriously consider killing Sayu oh my god) is even towards his family at the face of his Kira goals.

Contrary to the manga (which i prefer who would've guessed) in which Light is shown very genuinely caring for his family! And you know just who wanted to save Sayu more? Or who was more active in saving her between Light & Soichiro?

It was Light (at least manga!Light coz idk what the hell was going on in anime!Light's mind during that episode). Yeah, I know. It might be surprising to those who haven't read the manga but this protective brother of Sayu's? Cares for her deeply.

And the anime just had to fuck that up, hadn't it? 🤦🏻‍♀️

I hate episode 28 (titled 'Impatience') of the anime with a burning passion. So much so that I'll compare it with how the plot ACTUALLY transpires in the Manga.

This post is...long: I've tried my hardest to not go overboard with my negative(?) rant against the anime but it was an impossible task imo /o\

If any of the points mentioned in this post are good, they are due to tumblr user casuistor's post which I read on a regular basis. (Go check it out!! It's much much better than anything I could've written in my whole life. Yes, I'm a fan :)

If there are any mistakes, it would be entirely correct to attribute them to me.

I admit I hadn't paid much attention to the manga the first time I had read it but holy shit even then I had picked up on how close the Yagami siblings were!

I couldn't make much sense of the plot of the 2nd arc (I wasn't completely over L's death so forgive me for being in a daze) and yet I was absolutely sure of the fact that Light had done everything in his power to save Sayu. Even if you were not following the plot closely, you'd still understand that fact (which the anime did much worse than deliberately ignoring it). Why?

Because Ryuk kindly summarizes the plot/points this out:

Honestly, I don't even need to go on at this point now, do I? Ryuk, who never fails to call out Light (for example, saying that Light will be the only bad guy left if he kills every 'bad' guy out there in chapter 1), has just confirmed what thoughtful manga readers already knew: Light has a soft spot for his sister.

I'm still petty at the anime so I won't stop at this point. I'll first explain how it goes in the manga, then how the anime butchered it. Let's gooo!

To understand the circumstances surrounding Sayu's kidnapping, we need to note that the NPA director Takimura is kidnapped by Mello first for the exchange of the notebook. Soichiro notifies every bureau of the NPA. And Light, of course, doesn't hesitate for a minute to kill Takimura (obviously, the priority of Death Note >>> the life of Takimura, to Light).

This is supposed to happen behind the scenes in the manga compared to the anime which makes Light killing Takimura much more obvious:

-episode 27: Abduction

Anyways, it's part of Light's plan to let the kidnappers take the fall for Takimura's death (so that Kira won't be blamed for his murder. And since only the kidnappers and the NPA know about the kidnapping: it won't be assumed that Kira has any link to the NPA).

Light seriously doubts that the kidnappers would just drop the issue due to Takimura's death and he's right. Sayu is kidnapped.

Mello is taking full responsibility for Takimura's death just like Light intended him to. However, this time, rather than any person whom Light could've easily disposed of (like Takimura) to avoid letting the notebook fall into the kidnappers' hands, Sayu- the sister for whom Light cares deeply- is kidnapped instead.

Not only that, Mello expects Soichiro to keep this a secret from the rest of the NPA personnel otherwise as he threatens, he'll kill Sayu. Now, we know that during Takimura's kidnapping, rest of the NPA were notified of the fact (Yes, the circumstances are quite different- there wasn't a threat to Takimura's life for letting the others know of his kidnapping), Ide points this out:

Ide is apparently okay with Sayu's death and appeals to (read: pressures) 'duty/justice above my family' side of Soichiro Yagami to send word to every NPA department even if that means Sayu will be killed. And you know what? Soichiro actually agrees to do so!

I would like you to see Light's reaction here, these panels come directly after the above one:

Light wastes no time to completely change his plan to have everyone assume that it was the kidnappers who killed Takimura to -> Kira did it. This was Light's previous plan before Sayu got involved:

"It's part of Light's plan to let the kidnappers take the fall for Takimura's death (so that Kira won't be blamed for his murder. And since only the kidnappers and the NPA know about the kidnapping: it won't be assumed that Kira has any link to the NPA)."

This changing of plans that Light does immediately is actively detrimental to Light's Kira's cause (in other words, disadvantageous to Kira's goals). Look at Light digging a hole for himself just to save his sister:

Light argues to not notify the other NPA departments otherwise Kira would know about the kidnapping and kill Sayu (and they wouldn't get a chance to investigate the kidnappers if Kira kills Sayu before they can negotiate with them). So their best bet is to keep quiet about it so that Kira doesn't know; meanwhile they can, as Ide says, try and catch the culprit while negotiating the exchange.

Back to how this is in no way an advantage to Light (as Kira):

Telling the task force that Kira was behind Takimura's murder whose kidnapping was known only to the NPA personnel suggests that Kira has a link to NPA info and may lead to doubt against those in NPA being Kira (the NPA that Light is now the part of) so obviously not a win for Kira/Light.

Light is in now a very bad position if he needs to kill Sayu in the future to avoid the Note falling to the kidnappers' hands. Because now he can't blame Kira for her death, can he? He is the one who stopped them from sending word to rest of the NPA so Kira has (according to Light) theoretically no way of knowing about the exchange with Sayu situation (unless if Kira were in the task force itself thus narrowing down the list of Kira suspects); ergo Kira won't kill her.

So why the hell is Light okay with these disadvantages instead of his previous, practically/pragmatically (for Kira's cause) better plan? Better yet, why not did he kill Sayu himself without a moment of hesitation like he did with Takimura when he had the chance to do so before suggesting that it was Kira who killed Takimura, the kidnappers could've been framed for Sayu's death? Or just allow notifying the NPA personnel so that they made a move and let the kidnappers do the dirty work?

Because, as Ryuk says, Light has a soft spot for his sister:

Note that: Light doesn't even try to deny it in his thoughts ("...that's not all" anyone?). We're talking about the guy who rationalizes his way out of his feelings, who views emotions as the reason 'why most idiots screw up' and he does NOT DENY THAT HE CARES FOR HIS SISTER.

Also worthy of note is how quickly he decides to tell the task force that Kira killed Takimura. Usually, we get a long wall of text of Light planning his every move. Not in this case. I believe it's because this decision was fueled by emotion rather than reason- the emotion being brotherly love ofc.

["A totally emotional decision is typically very fast. This is because it takes time (at least 0.1 seconds) for the rational cortex to get going. This is the reactive (and largely subconscious) decision-making that you encounter in heated arguments or when faced with immediate danger.

Common emotional decisions may use some logic, but the main driving force is emotion, which either overrides logic or uses a pseudo-logic to support emotional choices (this is extremely common)." (as a bonus have this research by Damasio)]

Once, Light has time to think, he goes 'well even if in the worst case scenario (the kidnappers get the note) I have Misa's eyes so I'm still at an advantage eh...?'

He is, instead of contemplating a way to kill Sayu so that the note is safe, thinking (however briefly) of how it won't be muuuuuuuch of a problem if Mello does gets his hands on the note. Idk about you guys but man that rlly gives us an idea of Light's priorities (Sayu>>>>>>Death Note).

Here's instance #2 demonstrating Light's priorities (when Soichiro asks Light to just save Sayu as the former doesn't care if he loses his life. And Light responds by saying don't be a fool etc etc):

#Sayu matters more than the Death Note

Now we come to the scene which the anime seems to have taken to heart to entirely without the context. When Soichiro goes underground for the exchange, we have Near taunting Light (as L number 2)

This is not Light seriously deciding to kill Sayu (remember when he had the time to think over his decision, killing Sayu was not even an option but handing over the note to Mello was, in the worst case (even if he has Misa's eyes, it doesn't mean the idea is any less ridiculous)).

This is him, so stressed that he's coming up with so rubbish ideas that even he goes 'wtf am i thinking??' Because at this point, killing Sayu would be announcing that Kira is among the task force as only they know of Sayu's kidnapping + her name & face, which is again bad for Kira's cause. And the one responsible for this predicament is Light himself as he was the one who told the task force not to alert the NPA personnel.

If Light really had been meaning to kill Sayu, he had plenty of time & opportunity to do so (without the suspicion falling on him) before suggesting that Kira killed Takimura. Light essentially ran in the opposite direction when he was faced with the perfect chance of killing Sayu (just let the others notify the departments of NPA -> kill Sayu -> Blame Kira for it, foolproof. but he did Not take this route as he Loves his sister) and now when it is absolutely NOT AN OPTION (for obvious reasons) he's thinking it since he's stressed to the point of irrationality.

Yes, he's seen thinking this:

...aaaand he can't bring himself to finish the thought because he knows that he did the opposite since he loves Sayu & Soichiro dearly and couldn't bring himself to kill them.

Also look how concerned Light is over the well-being of Sayu & Soichiro that he calls his dad to ask if they're okay:

I hope at this point you believe me when I say that manga!Light never seriously considers killing Sayu. He loves his sister too much for that.

______________________________________________________________

Now we move on to how the anime (fucked it all up) adapted this. I'm not particularly happy with it (understatement of the year) so I'm gonna rant about how inferior it is compared to the manga. Let's gooo!

The plot goes pretty similarly: Takimura is kidnapped ->Light kills him -> Sayu is kidnapped -> Mello demands them not to notify the NPA personnel lest they kill Sayu.

But the change in episode 27 is that they remove the discussion (mainly Ide pressuring Soichiro) around whether to notify the NPA personnel. Soichiro deciding to send word to all departments of NPA is cut so we don't get to see Light swooping in to protect Sayu.

Still, anime!Light does reveal that it was Kira who killed Takimura. And advises the task force to keep Sayu's kidnapping a secret. However, anime!Ryuk doesn't call anime!Light out on him having a soft spot for his sister (coz as far as the anime is concerned, they really REALLY wanna sell the idea that Light doesn't care for Sayu).

It's a lot harder, therefore, to make sense of anime!Light's motivations in changing his plan from having the kidnappers framed for Takimura's murder to admitting that Kira did it. It appears that it happens just because ???

Like there is no reason in manga!Light doing this apart from saving his sister but anime!Light cannot have any redeeming qualities like loving his family, he needs to be a 100% evil villain!! ...So we have zero explanation for anime!Light's actions.

The exchange between Light & Soichiro re: the whole 'I don't care if I die but please save Sayu' + 'You can't die in front of Sayu no matter what...You must make the right decisions so that both you and Sayu live.' occurs without change. But due to the succeeding added anime-only scenes (which I'll talk about later), this conversation sounds fake from Light's side while it is completely genuine in the manga.

Then the infamous scene (which I hate to death) of anime!Light SERIOUSLY considering to kill Sayu comes:

And Misa overhears him saying that in the bathroom coz why not?? make it worse??? :) :) :)

And anime!Light comes as close as to killing Sayu that he even has his watch opened with the piece of the notebook

...wow such an awful brother being a piece of shit >:(

Wait! Can brotherly affection save the day? Has anime!Light finally realized the error of his ways?

Nope. Anime!Light chooses not to kill Sayu not because he loves her but because it would be self-incriminating to do so. Yeah...what. an. asshole.

Light calling his dad to check up on how him & Sayu are doing is cut from the anime. Instead, take a look at how displeased anime!Light is after Sayu is rescued by sacrificing the notebook.

Damn.

...yeah, this is Not the face of someone who's happy with the way things happened (namely losing the Death Note to Mello in exchange for Sayu's life). It's clear where anime!Light's priorities actually lie (Death Note>>>>Family) He's so angry that he takes out his anger on Misa by slapping the drink she offers, out of her hands:

Oh and these scenes are nowhere in the manga, they're just in the anime to emphasize just how big of a jerk brother anime!Light is.

In conclusion! Manga!Light (who's the only Light that matters really imo) loves his sister, would never seriously consider killing her in contrast to anime!Light who is very ready to say 'Sayonara Sayu Yagami' via murder and would've done so if it wasn't self-incriminating.

As you can see manga!Light is far superior to anime!Light. If you've stuck around to read this post to the end (a) I love you & (b) I hope you have a fantabulous day!! <333

[asarigg]

Inside the Character's Mind: Part 3

AOBA'S JEALOUSY

To be honest, I find it difficult to decide in what order to look at the different scenes in their lives. I don’t know whether to do it chronologically, thematically, or as they appear in the game, and that’s without having in mind that I lose track of what I write easily.

Before continuing, I would like to comment on one aspect that never convinced me about how NC wrote this character, as I mentioned with other aspects above. It is probably what I like the least, I think it is very poorly used and lays a questionable foundation for the character that in my opinion does not do him justice.

The first thing we see of him is him throwing one of his client’s boyfriend to the ground for causing trouble, and a bunch of women wetting their panties around him. Again, I don’t mean to get into the sexism issue right now, but it’s inevitable to mention it. Having a fan club isn’t a bad idea, but of course the only thing they could ever do was to make a bunch of annoying, yelling, toxic and childish women behaving like they’re 15 and had never spoken to a man before. They’ve worked on it in the most superficial and stereotypical way possible that the only thing it leads to is discomfort and rejection of the idea of meeting him again. And the worst thing is that it’s not just you, it’s also Aoba, so they don’t help much. Luckily it doesn’t last too long.

Obviously you can’t just lay it all out right from the start, it’s normal that you’re shown the most superficial side and as you progress you get to know him in depth, like everyone else. But it’s extremely superficial. I personally wouldn’t change that much, and maybe my biggest problem (besides the representation of women) might be just a translation problem, but hey, I work with what I have. They’re just a few small details that make it seem like a textbook white knight copy and paste. If his relationship with women was just as superficial, maybe it wouldn’t be so disappointing, but the thing is that it isn’t, so it doesn’t feel completely right with his character.

Anyway, back to what I wanted to get to. The way Aoba talks about Koujaku is quite stiff, distant, even though we learn a little later that Koujaku has been his friend since childhood. It’s true that he left the island for many years, but then he says that Koujaku came back three years ago and that he hadn’t changed at all since they were children except for his appearance, he was still just as friendly, kind and smiling. So why this coldness?

Aoba practically talks about him like he’s some guy he met a few months ago and occasionally runs into and that’s it, despite what we’ve already mentioned. Not only that, but it turns out that Koujaku drops by his house quite often, staying for lunch and overnight, sleeping in his room. What kind of stranger would you do that with, especially someone like Aoba?

Even Tae herself, famously known for always grumbling and acting a bit surly, is fond of him. She is precisely the one who would be the least hesitant to kick him out of her house if she didn’t want him there, however Aoba points out that he knows that his grandmother considers him a second grandson. After all, she has known him since he was a kid. I'm sure that she’s very grateful to Koujaku for having been there with her grandson when no one else was, not even her, even if she wanted to be.

I talked about this topic a while ago with another tumblr user, who basically attributed Aoba’s behavior to pure discomfort and displeasure when seeing Koujaku’s fans interacting with him, due to having been distant for so long, so it seemed important to mention those three years. I’m not saying Aoba should not be uncomfortable in this situation, seeing your bestie flirting with a group of women jumping around him is definitely not the most fun thing to do. Also, he wants to avoid the gaze of the whole group because they would eat him alive, something he doesn’t achieve because Koujaku notices him anyway. But he seems very distant, he is not only showing discomfort or just wishes to disappear, he is excessively rough with the words he uses, saying that all that charisma he has is an act, false. Like I said before, this is because Aoba knows better, sure, but the way he says it gives it a pretty negative tone.

It seems to me that NC simply wants to introduce the character to you, as the reader, rather than introducing him as Aoba’s bestie, hence the coldness, it’s not Aoba, it’s you. They still joke around all the time and the complicity between them is quite clear, so it’s not like it’s entirely wrong or weird or distant, it’s just those details of Aoba’s thoughts that seemed somewhat dissonant to me.

In any case, there are behaviors that resonate with another idea that is very true and it’s Aoba being jealous. As we have already mentioned before, there are subtleties that make his attraction to Koujaku obvious from the beginning. In the Drama CD and the SSS we see that Aoba is quite insecure, undervaluing himself mostly for being in a homosexual relationship. Seeing that women continue to go after Koujaku makes him feel bad, although there is not much to do, he cannot lock Koujaku up so that he doesn’t talk to anyone ever again and that’s it. He is very troubled by this, and even wonders if Koujaku wouldn’t have preferred to be with a woman at the end of the day, as if he was less, as if Koujaku should be in a straight relationship.

Most notably in the Valentine’s Day story Aoba wants to be able to do what all those girls can do openly without having to worry about prejudice or stares. He wants to be able to kiss him, hold his hand, go on dates, and make him chocolates, normal couple things. Those reactions he had when seeing those women holding onto Koujaku’s arm or having his attention were nothing less than jealousy, because Aoba wanted him to give that attention to him.

This not being possible, since he doesn’t even realize what he feels to start with, makes Koujaku sharing other kinds of things with him that he doesn’t share with anyone else extremely valuable, like the balcony scene, or Koujaku holding his hand when they make love, even if he doesn’t like to admit it. That's why he loves to keep learning new things about Koujaku as their relationship progresses, even the silliest ones. The unknown is not a source of uncertainty or shock anymore, but one of curiosity, a way of loving.

Please Koujaku quit smoking I don’t want you die you're too sexy. haha

That’s why when he discovers that there are things about Koujaku that he doesn’t know, that Koujaku isn’t willing to share with him, among other things, it affects him in this way, like he’s not as special as he thought for knowing a side of Koujaku that most didn’t, because that is no longer a reality for him.