#she knows exactly what kind of person he is

[scarletemeterio]

Hello! Can I ask for ekko with an reader who confessed to him thrice (and thrice rejected) and then he finally falls hard for them? With a happy ending, thank you!

(kind of like she fell first he fell harder trope)

Let Me Love You (Ekko x Reader)

Warnings: some cursing Genre: angst, hurt/comfort Word count: 2.3k Reader has no set pronouns!

The first time was the hardest of them all. You’d muster up the courage to confess your feelings for him, knowing very well that it could go south.

“I have something to tell you,” you uttered. He gave you a worried look, noticing that there was a hint of desperation in your voice. You were in his so-called office, working on something that didn’t really matter anymore.

“Is everything okay?” He simply asked.

“I’m not sure,” you began, “but I really need to say this.” He gave you his full attention, making you feel a bit intimidated by him and extremely self-conscious. “I’m in love with you,” you blurted out.

Silence quickly filled the room, and the tension could easily be cut by a knife. The moment you saw his face, you knew it: he didn’t feel the same way.

“I, uh, I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled more to himself than to you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things awkward at all. You can just forget I said anything.”

“I really don’t want to hurt you but I just don’t feel the same way.” You were trying to hold back your tears as his words left his mouth. “You’re an amazing person and anyone would be lucky to be with you, but that person isn’t me.”

You simply looked at him and slowly nodded. “It’s okay, you can’t force yourself to feel something you don’t.” It was hard to speak at this point. He knew you were hurt, but you’d never show it; it would just make things harder for the both of you. “Is this gonna change things between us?”

“I would hate that, honestly.” You nodded again, finally being on the same page about something. He came closer and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder to try and alleviate the tension. If only it were that easy.

•••

Some time passed and you still tried to hide your feelings for him. For a while, it worked, you’d suppressed them every time you spent time with the boy but deep down, you missed the way you were before. It had always been hard for you to open up to people, but you’d never been this miserable before. You were just a shadow of your usual self, and it was evident to everyone in the base.

Ekko himself tried to talk to you about it, clearly oblivious to the fact that he was the reason for your attitude. Finally, after a particularly hard day for you, you just lost it.

“You wanna know what’s wrong with me, Ekko? It’s you!” You truly didn’t mean to scream at him but you also couldn’t help it. Lately, you lived on edge, always frustrated about something; it was like you were a bomb simply waiting to explode. “I swear I tried to play dumb, to ignore everything but I just can’t.”

“Is this about-?”

“Yes, Ekko, of course it is.” You interrupted him. “I know you went on with your life and pretended I never said anything so we could go back to the way things were, but it’s not that easy for me. Nothing about this has been easy.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Bullshit,” you spat. “You know exactly how I feel about you. We’ve known each other for years, you can’t tell me you never realized why I’ve been acting so strange.”

There was a pause between you. You were agitated, heart beating so fast that you could feel it in your throat. “I guess I wanted to pretend nothing ever happened,” he confessed after some time. “Acknowledging it made it real and I just- I just want my friend back, without any messiness and complications between us.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ekko. I’m sorry my feelings are such an inconvenience to you. Trust me, I wish I could change them and forget about you for good but I just can’t.”

Something twitched inside of him when you said that and he looked at you with hurt eyes. “You really mean that? That you’d like to forget me?”

“I meant forgetting about my feelings for you, ‘cause you’re not making things easy for me,” you explained. “When you come over and put your arm around me or stand so close to me that I can feel you breathing it kills me, Ekko. And the worst part is that you know it.” You took a deep breath, anger slowly leaving you, feeling nothing but sadness. “Sometimes I feel like you enjoy testing me like that because you know that no matter what I’ll always come back to you. But I’m tired of this dance between us, it’s too much.”

“I just don’t know how to feel! This is hard for me too!” Neither of you cared if someone heard you at this point, you’d simply have to put up with the weird looks from everyone. “I don’t know what you want me to do and I’m confused.”

“Honestly,” you began, “I want you to give me some space.”

“Wait, I- uh, I don’t want that, please,” he took a step closer to you, trying to grab ahold of your hand but you avoided his touch, as you avoided his sad eyes.

“Do you have feelings for me, Ekko?”

“I said I’m confused.”

“It’s a simple question, do you?”

You finally looked at him and he realized that you were crying. He could count with one hand the number of times he’d seen you cry, and he never thought he’d be the reason why. “I don’t know,” he finally whispered.

“Then I don’t have anything else to say. I don’t want to wait for you to figure out how you feel and keep getting hurt in the process, I don’t think I deserve it.”

“Wait, please-.”

“Ekko,” you cut him, “I need some space, don’t make this even harder, please.” And with that, you left, leaving him even more confused than before, and with a pain in his chest he couldn’t really explain.

You should’ve known this was coming. Still, it hurt like the first time. You couldn’t blame him; if anything, you were glad he was honest with you. But after today, you realized that you needed to keep some distance from him, or this would end up destroying you for good.

•••

Days quickly turned into weeks, and you realized you hadn’t said a word to the Firelight’s leader in almost a month. Your heart still flipped inside whenever you inevitably ran into him or locked eyes with him within the first few days since the fight, and soon you started avoiding him all along.

In no time, the boy started feeling an emptiness inside him, something he couldn’t explain. He was truthful with you in that last conversation, he truly wasn’t sure how he felt, but with every passing day that you were nowhere to be seen, he realized that maybe he’d been a complete fool.

He missed you, there was no denying that. Now the question was if his feelings for you were simply platonic or if deep down he yearned for you, maybe even more than you for him. Ekko wasn’t the best with his emotions, not because he actively repressed them, but because all of this was extremely new to him, and he just felt so overwhelmed. However, there was one thing he was extremely sure of: he wanted you in his life.

It had been days since he last saw you, evident now that you’d been avoiding him for a while, so when he finally caught a glimpse of you around the base, it was like seeing an angel. Soon, his pleasant feelings were replaced by envy. You were talking with one of the new members from the Firelights, nothing out of the ordinary, but there was nothing he wanted more than to be the one you had your attention on. He didn’t recognize himself, filled with jealousy and bitterness.

The boy was pulled out of his thoughts when someone asked him a question, engaging in conversation with him, but that strange sensation still clung to him like glue. He hated himself and blamed his stupid ass for being such an idiot, these were merely the consequences of his own actions.

When he was lying in bed that night trying to fall asleep, you were the only thing on his mind. Your smile that shined like the stars, your lips that he so wanted to feel against his own while your arms wrapped around his body. He wanted to bang his head against the wall, he was such an idiot. If only he’d realized this before then maybe now you wouldn’t hate him. It all seemed so obvious to him now. You were there for him, by his side from the very beginning. He could always count on and lean on you, he trusted you even more than he trusted himself. Oftentimes he’d become mesmerized by how pretty you looked when you spent time together, the sun hitting your face in just the perfect way or your hair effortlessly framing your face in such a flawless way. Of course, he thought nothing of all this at the time, brushing it off as objective thinking. But now, it suddenly hit him, everything was different now because he wasn’t unsure anymore, he knew exactly how he felt about you. He loved you.

He sat on his bed, passing his hands through his face in an attempt to clear his mind. He wanted- no, needed to talk to you. Maybe you didn’t even feel the same way anymore, but he had to get it off his chest, he had to at least try. But right now, he also had to calm his nerves because if he didn’t, he’d go and knock on your door this very moment, and he was certain you didn’t wanna see him at all. So instead, he got up and went to take a walk, thinking it would be nice to sit by the tree to help him organize his thoughts. What he wasn’t expecting was seeing you there.

As soon as you saw his figure making its way to you, you got up, ready to leave but were interrupted by his voice. “Wait, please, don’t go.” You knew you should pay him no attention and leave anyway, but it had been so long since you’d last heard his voice that you were taken aback for a moment, standing in place. “Can we talk?” His voice was soft, nothing compared to what it was in your last conversation together; you could even hear a hint of desperation, which was what ultimately made you turn around and stay.

“What do you want, Ekko?” As soon as he heard you he let out a small smile, confirming that yours was the voice he wanted to hear every day when he woke up and every night before going to sleep.

He motioned for you to sit down again, doing the same right after you. “I’m sorry for everything,” he began saying, “I never meant for things to end up like this between us.” His chest accompanied his breathing, moving just a little too fast, earning him a concerned look from you. “I know that you probably hate me now, I know I would if I were you, and you’ll probably hate me even more after what I have to say since I acted like a complete idiot and took so long to figure out something that was right in front of me this whole time but I- uh, I do have feelings for you. Lots of feelings actually, I’m in love with you.”

You snapped your neck to look at him, trying to read his expression in search of a playful tone, but it wasn’t there. He was serious, he was finally saying what you wanted to hear for so long now. So long that you couldn’t fully believe him.

“Ekko, I don’t want any games, please.”

“I’m being serious. These weeks without you have been absolute torture, I can’t do this without you, I need you.” He rubbed his face, stopping at the bridge of his nose to pinch it. When he looked back at you, he had tears forming in his eyes, a sight you hadn’t seen in a very long time. “I’m being honest. I’m so sorry it took me so long to finally realize it. I made it my personal vow to always protect you and keep you safe and I’m the one that caused you pain and for that, I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t really know what to say, nothing seemed good enough. Your mind was racing and quickly you were lost in your thoughts and were brought back to reality by the sound of Ekko getting up, ready to leave. “These last weeks have been hell for me, too.” Your eyes met his and you stoop up, getting closer to him. “I don’t hate you, Ekko. I could never hate you.”

“But you don’t love me anymore?”

“I didn’t say that, I’m just a bit taken aback that’s all.” He got closer to you, trying to grab your hand and this time, you let him do it. He brought it to his face and planted a kiss on it, never breaking eye contact with you.

“I’m so in love with you that just thinking about spending a second away from you makes me suffer. I don’t want to feel that way anymore, I want to be with you, share my life with you, and love you every day.” One of his hands went to cup your face and you leaned against it. “Please let me love you.”

You looked at his lips and then back at his eyes, and in just a second the air was knocked out of your lungs when you felt his lips against yours. The kiss was sweet but desperate and filled with emotions. “Please let me love you, too,” you said when you separated.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

hey! i loved this request, i'm a sucker for angst :)

i changed it just a little bit but i still hope you like it anon, thanks for requesting! really enjoyed writing this one and i LOVE writing for ekko

[lucygraysboy]

“well, most of the time it really isn’t that bad.” and like he said, people are very adaptable — if she stays here long enough, she’ll get used to it. “that’s what we got central park for. you can frolic there all day, baby,” billy muses with a laugh, thinking how accurate the deer comparison is. she’s got the same skinny legs and big, brown eyes, the cutest nose and sweetest personality. “onion smells? i don’t know what kind of boys you’ve been hangin’ out with, but my armpits don’t ever smell like onions!” maybe right after a very intense workout, but he always uses deodorant and showers daily. “quit what exactly, hm?” too bad these cake pops are so small, he’d like to annoy her for a few more minutes. but one more bite and all that’s left is a few crumbs, clinging to the stick. he licks it clean and throws it away. another good thing about new york city is that there’s trash cans on every corner. “stinky dinosaur. pft. says miss cheese feet, always marinatin’ in ‘em cute boots.” teasing her right back, he gently squeezes her and kisses her head again. he means no harm. it’s really just a silly joke, the one thing that he always accuses her of but is very much untrue. “no, baby, you don’t have big ears. you have the cutest ears in the world. pretty little ears,” he sighs, giving in. they may be playing but he doesn’t want to go too far and hurt her feelings.

“i’m just jealous ‘cause mine aren’t this adorable.” laughing, he resumes walking when the light turns green and the people around them begin to move, forcing them to do the same. this surely isn’t new york’s biggest or fanciest subway station, but he wouldn’t say it’s especially claustrophobic. “careful, hold onto me or the railing, alright? don’t spill your coffee,” he warns softly, leading her down the crowded flight of stairs until they’re in an underground tunnel. it’s brightly lit, smells like urine and sweat, but there’s no rats in sight, which he thinks is good. he double checks the signs hanging overhead, ensuring they’re headed to the right platform and only stops when they reach the turnstiles. “so, we’re catching the D train all the way down to 103 street. here’s your metrocard, babe.” he pulls out his wallet and offers her one of the two yellow cards. he got her one ahead of time so she wouldn’t have to worry. “you just tap it on the reader and you can walk through the turnstile, just push on it and it will start turnin’ and let you through. if you forget your card, you can pay for a ride with your phone or credit card, you also just tap it on the reader here. or you do what most new yorkers do, say f word the MTA and push the emergency exit open without payin’ for anythin’. though, there’s usually cameras all over these places, and if you’re unlucky, that’s a very embarrassin’ ride to the nearest police station so…” he laughs sheepishly, trying to hide the fact that he’s done this very thing once or twice.

“and then, you say it’s not that bad.” brows playfully crease in confusion. “well us bambi’s are only used to the woods and frolicking around in fields.” amusingly smiling, taking another bite off her snowman cake pop. “i’m checkin’ for onion smells, makin’ sure you put deodorant on,” a laugh sounds from the mischievous brunette the second she turns her head away. “quit it.” plugging her ear next to him so she doesn’t hear obnoxious chewing. “that is right, she took you, a stinky dinosaur. so raccoons shouldn’t be no problem.” teasing him even if she lies her head on his arm momentarily to show she means it with care. “i DON’T have big ears.” insisting so, still looking grumpy about it. “who cares about your tum tum,” mocking him for saying it like that, “when my ears are being insulted.” dropping her cake pop gently down in her bag, unable to concentrate on finishing it, she’ll come back for it maybe after they get on the subway. feeling nervous about what it’s like under there, what if it’s claustrophobic?

[dieseldame]

𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗧𝗮𝗺𝗲

Sevika x Piltover! Reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2,1K

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: In the chaotic heart of Zaun, The Last Drop is no stranger to fights or bold personalities. But when a bratty, jewelry-clad Piltie struts in like she owns the place, all hell breaks loose. Married to Sevika, a woman feared across Zaun, Reader knows exactly how to push buttons—especially Sevika's. What starts as a test of Sevika’s patience quickly escalates into a bar brawl, leaving Sevika dragging her defiant wife home to remind her who’s in charge.

𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: Established Relationship, power play, jealousy, violence, sapphic tension, suggestive content and mild humor.

The Last Drop was alive with the raucous hum of Zaun's underbelly. Smoke hung in the air like a shroud, curling around dim lights that barely cut through the haze. Sevika leaned back in her chair, the faint creak of wood beneath her a rare sound amid the clang of glasses, shouts, and the occasional sharp bark of laughter. She was in her element here, a weathered deck of cards in her hand and a pile of shimmers stacked before her—a reminder that even on her worst days, she could still outplay the best of them.

Her gaze was sharp, her lips curved into the faintest smirk as she flicked a card onto the table with an air of casual dominance. — You folding already? — Her voice cut through the noise like a blade, low and gravelly, daring anyone to meet her eyes.

The table grumbled in response, a chorus of muttered curses and begrudging chuckles. They knew better than to cross her—most of them, anyway.

The door swung open then, spilling harsh yellow light into the bar. The hum of conversation faltered, a ripple of silence spreading outward as heads turned. Sevika didn't bother looking up at first; she'd seen too many fools trying to make an entrance here. But then she heard it—the sound of heels clicking against the floor in an unhurried, deliberate rhythm.

Her eyes flicked upward, and the sight that greeted her was enough to make her grip on the card tighten.

You stood in the doorway, framed by the flickering light of a neon sign outside, and you looked like you'd walked out of a dream and into a den of wolves. Your outfit—if it could even be called that—clung to your curves, light, sheer fabrics that left very little to the imagination. The jewelry draped across your skin caught the dim light, glinting like stars against the shadows.

It was a bold look, reckless even. Piltover glittered on you like a target, every ring, every gem practically begging to be stolen. Yet, you walked with the kind of confidence that suggested you either didn't care or knew no one would dare.

The latter was true.

Sevika's jaw ticked, her mechanical fingers curling slightly at the sight of you. The brat in you was on full display, and she could see it in the way you moved, in the subtle quirk of your lips as you scanned the room. You knew exactly what you were doing.

The noise in the bar picked back up, though it was laced now with whispers and murmurs. A few men at a corner table exchanged glances, their eyes raking over you like they didn't care who saw. Sevika's gaze darkened, her expression sharpening into something dangerous.

You didn’t approach her directly. No, that would have been too easy. Instead, you sauntered toward the bar, your hips swaying in a way that demanded attention, every step measured to draw eyes—hers, especially.

— Whiskey, — you said, your voice light and sweet as you leaned against the bar. — Neat.

The bartender hesitated, his eyes flicking toward Sevika before sliding back to you. He knew better than to argue.

Sevika watched you, her card forgotten on the table. Her companions shifted uneasily in their seats, shooting her nervous glances. They'd seen her temper before, and the way her hand hovered near her drink like she was debating throwing it was never a good sign.

One of the men at the corner table was braver—or stupider—than the rest. He rose to his feet and swaggered toward you, his grin as greasy as his hair. — Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes. — he drawled, his voice loud enough to cut through the room.

You turned to him with an innocent smile, your head tilting just enough to expose the line of your neck. — Oh? — you said, your tone light, almost playful.

Sevika’s eye twitched.

The man leaned in closer, his hand brushing against the bar beside you as he crowded into your space. — What's a doll like you doing in a place like this?

— Waiting. — you said simply, your gaze flicking briefly to Sevika.

The man followed your eyes, his grin faltering slightly when he saw the way Sevika was staring at him—cold and unblinking, like a predator sizing up prey.

— Don't. — one of Sevika's companions muttered under his breath, but the man either didn't hear or didn't care.

He turned back to you, his confidence apparently bolstered by liquid courage. — How 'bout I keep you company until whoever you're waiting for shows up?

You hummed, a soft sound that sent a shiver down Sevika's spine for all the wrong reasons. — That's sweet of you, — you said, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass. — But I think you'll find I'm not as lonely as I look.

The man didn't take the hint.

Sevika stood, the scrape of her chair against the floor loud enough to draw every eye in the room. The bar fell silent again as she approached, her steps measured, deliberate. She didn't bother to roll up her sleeves—she wouldn't need to.

When she reached you, she didn’t speak. Instead, her hand curled around your waist, firm and possessive, pulling you back against her chest. The heat of her body and the cool metal of her prosthetic made you shiver, but you didn’t resist.

— You lost? — Sevika said, her voice low and dangerous, her gaze fixed on the man like he was already dead.

The man hesitated, his bravado faltering under the weight of her glare. — Just makin' conversation. — he said, though his voice lacked its earlier swagger.

— Funny, —Sevika said, her tone cold enough to freeze the air around her. — I don't remember asking you to.

The man's face twitched-fear creeping into his expression, though he was trying his best to hide it. The whole bar was watching now, the other patrons frozen in place, breaths held as if they could sense the storm brewing.

You, of course, were no help.

— Aw, Sev, — you cooed, tilting your head to look up at her with that sly little smile that made her blood boil. — He was just being friendly. No need to scare the poor guy.

Sevika's gaze flicked to you, her brow arching in a silent warning. The way her jaw tightened was a clear sign she was seconds from snapping, and you were the one pushing her there.

The man, emboldened by your words-or perhaps too drunk to read the room- straightened up and sneered. — See? The lady doesn't mind.

Sevika's grip on your waist tightened, her fingers digging in just enough to make you squirm. Not in pain-never that-but enough to remind you who was in control here.

— You've got about three seconds to walk away, — Sevika said, her voice like gravel. — Before I break every bone in your body.

The man's laugh was sharp and nervous, his gaze darting between you and Sevika. — No need to get violent, big girl. I didn't mean any harm.

— Big girl? — someone muttered from the crowd, a few stifled laughs echoing through the bar.

You bit your lip, suppressing a laugh of your own. That was a mistake. Sevika saw it-the way your shoulders shook ever so slightly-and it was all the confirmation she needed. You wanted this. You wanted the chaos, the mess, the violence.

Fine.

— One. — Sevika said, her hand releasing your waist as she stepped forward.

— Whoa, hey! — The man's hands went up in surrender, but it was too late.

— Two.

The sound of her fist connecting with his jaw was deafening, the crack of bone followed by the dull thud of his body hitting the floor. Gasps and cheers erupted from the crowd, the tension in the room exploding into chaos.

The man scrambled to his feet, clutching his face as blood dripped between his fingers. — You bitch-

He didn't get to finish. Sevika was on him again, her prosthetic arm slamming into his gut with enough force to send him crashing into a table. Glass shattered, and the patrons at the table scattered, shouting as they tried to get out of the way.

You watched from your spot at the bar, sipping your whiskey with an amused smile. You knew better than to intervene now; Sevika was in her element, and you'd only get in her way. Besides, you liked watching her like this-feral and unrelenting, every punch and kick a reminder of why she was feared in Zaun.

The man wasn't alone for long. A couple of his friends-foolish and drunk-rushed forward, shouting curses as they tried to gang up on her. It didn't matter. Sevika moved like a storm, her movements calculated and precise. One man went down with a sickening crunch, his nose broken, while the other barely got a swing in before she dislocated his shoulder with a swift twist of her arm.

The fight was over as quickly as it had begun. The room fell silent again, the only sounds the groans of the men on the floor and the heavy, measured breaths of Sevika as she stood over them.

She turned to you then, her expression dark and dangerous. — Enjoying yourself?

You set your glass down, giving her an innocent smile that you knew would only piss her off more. — Always.

The corner of her mouth twitched, and for a moment you thought she might actually smile. But instead, she crossed the room in a few long strides, grabbing your wrist with her flesh hand and pulling you toward the door.

— Sevika-

— Not a word. — she growled, her voice low enough that it sent a shiver down your spine.

The bar erupted into whispers and murmurs as she dragged you outside, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the heat still radiating from her. You barely had time to steady yourself before she had you pinned against the wall of the alleyway, her body crowding yours in a way that left no room for escape.

— You think this is funny? — she asked, her prosthetic hand braced against the wall beside your head, her flesh hand gripping your chin to force you to look at her.

— I think you're hot when you're jealous, — you said, your voice breathless but defiant.

Her eyes narrowed, and the dangerous glint in them made your pulse race. — Is that right?

You nodded, a teasing smile playing on your lips despite the way your heart was pounding. — Mhm. That little show back there? Ten out of ten.

Her grip on your chin tightened just enough to make your breath hitch. — You like testing me, don't you?

— Maybe. — you said, your voice softening into a whisper.

Her thumb brushed over your bottom lip, her gaze flicking down to your mouth before meeting your eyes again. — You're mine, — she said, her voice a low growl that sent heat pooling in your stomach. — Don't forget that.

— I won't. — you promised, though the mischievous glint in your eyes suggested otherwise.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, — Good. Because when we get home, I'm going to remind you exactly who you belong to.

Your breath caught, your fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt as a shiver ran down your spine. You didn't doubt her for a second.

Sevika didn't wait for your answer. She straightened up, her hand leaving your chin to grab your wrist again, tugging you along as she marched through the dimly lit streets of Zaun. The tension in her shoulders was palpable, the storm that had been brewing in the bar now fully directed at you.

You didn't resist-oh no, that wasn't part of the game. Instead, you followed obediently, your steps quick to keep up with hers, though the occasional sway of your hips was deliberate. You weren't done teasing her yet, not by a long shot.

The walk to her apartment was mercifully short. The heavy metal door slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing through the small space. Before you could even get your bearings, she had you pressed against it, her hand on your throat-not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you of her strength.

— Think you're funny, don't you? — she growled, her face inches from yours.

Your grin was unrepentant, your hands coming up to rest against her chest. — Maybe a little.

Her eyes narrowed, and the muscle in her jaw twitched. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your lips as she spoke. — You like making me lose control. You think it's a game.

— Isn't it? — you whispered, your voice soft but taunting.

That did it.

In one swift motion, she spun you around, pressing your front against the cool metal of the door. Her hand slid down your side, her grip firm and commanding as she held you in place.

— You're mine, — she said again, her voice low and rough, each word dripping with authority. — And I don't share.

Your breath hitched, the heat pooling in your stomach spreading through your veins like wildfire. — I know. — you said, your voice barely audible, though the smile on your lips betrayed your lingering defiance.

Her flesh hand found its way to your hip, tugging at the thin fabric of your skirt. The metal of her prosthetic grazed the back of your neck, the cool sensation sending a shiver down your spine.

— You think you're in charge, — she muttered, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. — You're not.

Your lips parted, a sharp inhale filling your lungs as she pressed her body against yours, her strength overwhelming, intoxicating. She was in control now, and you loved it.

— Say it. — she demanded, her voice dropping even lower, the rasp in her tone sending a thrill through you.

— I'm yours. — you admitted, your voice trembling slightly.

She hummed in satisfaction, her lips curving into a smirk as she pressed a kiss to your neck, her teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp.

— Damn right you are.

Her hand slipped beneath your skirt, fingers tracing over the thin lace you'd worn just for her. The sound of her low chuckle sent heat rushing to your cheeks, though you refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing you blush.

— You planned this, didn't you? — she asked, her tone accusatory but amused.

— Maybe. — you replied, your voice breathless but still teasing.

Her grip on your hip tightened, her prosthetic arm bracing against the door to cage you in completely. — You're going to regret that. — she murmured, her lips ghosting over your shoulder.

You didn't regret it-not for a second. But you didn't tell her that. Instead, you let her take what was hers, every touch, every kiss, every bruising grip on your skin a reminder of the power she held over you.

By the time she was done, your legs were trembling, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps as you clung to her for support. She held you steady, her lips brushing against your temple in a rare moment of softness.

— Still think it's a game? — she asked, her voice quiet but teasing.

You looked up at her, your grin as defiant as ever despite the exhaustion in your limbs. — Maybe. — you said, your tone light and playful.

She shook her head, a low chuckle rumbling in her chest. — You're impossible.

— And you love it. — you shot back, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

She didn't deny it. Instead, she scooped you up in her arms, carrying you to the bed without a word. You didn't fight her- not this time.

You'd won the game in your own way, after all.

ㅤㅤㅤ

[societyfolklore]

Plus One

Title: Plus One (Prompt- who invited them to the holiday party?) Pairing: Loki x SHEILD Agent!Female Reader

Summary:  Thor brings Loki along to the Avengers Christmas party, and no one-not even you-was prepared for it. A night of tension and unexpected moments leads to revelations that are far from festive.

Word Count: 4.5k (woah this got away from me…)

Warnings:  /Warnings // Explicit Content //18+, Minors DNI, smut, DARK-ish (just Loki being Loki really) fingering, Unprotected sex Not Beta read.

A/N: Another entry for @the-slumberparty December daze challenge …. Day 21

The annual Avengers Christmas party was the kind of event that had its own gravitational pull. No one dared to skip it-Tony Stark’s reputation for ‘over-the-top’ festivities guaranteed a night to remember (and sometimes regret). The compound sparkled with festive charm, every inch of it covered in twinkling lights, tinsel, garlands, and a seemingly endless supply of mistletoe that Tony had strategically placed to stir up drama.

You’d been looking forward to the party for weeks. It wasn’t often the team had an excuse to let their guard down and embrace something as simple as holiday cheer. If you were honest with yourself, it was also a chance to see Thor. The Asgardian always brought a sense of camaraderie to these events with his booming laughter and stories of Yuletide traditions from another realm, plus who didn’t like a chance to swoon a little over an ‘God’.

The night began as you expected-Natasha at the bar, teasing Clint about his questionable sweater; Sam and Bucky in a competitive battle of holiday trivia that was growing increasingly loud and animated; and Steve doing his best to avoid being cornered by overly curious SHIELD interns. It was chaotic, warm, and exactly what you needed.

At least, until you saw him.

You’d been mid-conversation with Wanda when the room seemed to shift. A ripple of unease spread through the crowd, subtle but undeniable. Curious, you turned your head and there he was. Loki.

Standing by the bar, drink in hand, the God of Mischief looked entirely too at ease in a room full of people who’d rather not be in his company. He was dressed impeccably in a dark suit that somehow managed to feel more threatening than festive. His jet-black hair was swept back, and his piercing blue eyes scanned the room with a lazy confidence that set your teeth on edge.

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath, your drink momentarily forgotten.

Wanda followed your gaze, her brow furrowing. “Thor brought him,” she explained quietly. “Apparently, he didn’t want his brother to spend the holidays alone.”

“That’s… considerate,” you replied, though your tone dripped with scepticism. “But Loki? At a Christmas party? This has disaster written all over it.”

Wanda shrugged looking back at you. “He’s been calm so far, charming even. Maybe he’ll surprise us.”

You snorted. Loki wasn’t the kind of person who ‘surprised’ people in a good way.

As if sensing your thoughts, Loki’s gaze locked onto yours from across the room. His lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk that made your stomach twist. He raised his glass slightly in a mock toast, his expression equal parts amusement and challenge.

You turned back to Wanda, doing your best to ignore the flush creeping up your neck. “This is going to be a long night.”

Moments later, you found yourself seeking out Thor, hoping for some kind of explanation. You spotted him near the buffet table, a plate stacked high with what looked like an alarming combination of turkey and dessert pastries. He was laughing boisterously at something Steve had said, completely at ease despite the tension his brother’s presence was causing.

“Thor,” you said, cutting into the conversation. He turned to you with his usual wide grin.

“Ah! Seasonal Salutation! M’lady” he greeted warmly. “Have you tried the pudding? A most peculiar flavour but quite delightful.”

You waved off the question, getting straight to the point. “What is he doing here?”

Thor’s grin faltered slightly, and he glanced over his shoulder as if to confirm who you meant. “Loki? Well I- He had nowhere else to go for the holidays. It seemed cruel to leave him to his own devices.”

“Cruel to him or to us?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You seriously thought this was a good idea?”

Thor sighed, his expression softening. “I understand your concerns, but he is my brother. I could not bear the thought of him alone on such a joyous occasion. Besides,” he added with a wink, “he promised to behave.”

You raised a sceptical eyebrow. “And you believed him?”

Before Thor could answer, a shadow fell over the two of you. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. The air seemed to grow colder, and a familiar voice, smooth and laced with amusement, cut through the festive noise.

“Talking about me already? How flattering.”

Loki stepped into view, his smirk firmly in place as his sharp gaze flicked between you and Thor. “I wasn’t aware I warranted such attention.”

Your jaw tightened, but before you could fire back, Thor clapped Loki on the shoulder, his usual jovial demeanour returning. “We were just discussing how you’ve managed to behave yourself so far. A true Christmas miracle!”

Loki’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a glint of something darker in his eyes as he turned his attention to you. “I aim to please.”

Your stomach flipped, though whether it was from irritation or something else, you weren’t sure. “Let’s hope it stays that way,” you said coolly, brushing past him before he could see just how much his presence was affecting you.

As you walked away, you could feel his gaze following you, burning into your back. This was definitely going to be a long night.

You drifted toward the far corner of the room, seeking refuge from Loki's piercing gaze that still lingered in your thoughts. The dessert table became your sanctuary, a whimsical display of Tony’s flair for the extravagant. Gingerbread skyscrapers stood proudly next to meticulously crafted snowman macarons, their glossy surfaces glinting in the ambient light. A fountain of eggnog, complete with a miniature motorized sleigh circling its base, gurgled in the background, adding a surreal charm to the festive scene.

You allowed yourself a brief moment to breathe, reaching for a chocolate-dipped strawberry and savoring the rich aroma of cocoa and ripe fruit. It was grounding, a small indulgence that pulled you back from the tension threatening to coil too tightly in your chest.

But the respite didn’t last long.

“Avoiding me already, darling?”

The familiar voice sent a jolt through you, smooth as velvet yet edged with a playful sharpness. Your hand jerked slightly, the strawberry wobbling precariously between your fingers. You turned your head sharply, meeting Loki’s unyielding gaze. He was closer than you’d expected, his tall frame looming with an ease that spoke of his predatory confidence.

His presence was suffocating in the most maddening way, and yet you couldn’t tear your eyes from him. Dressed to perfection, the crisp lines of his suit contrasted against the effortless way he commanded attention, even in silence. The faint scent of something rich and foreign clung to him-spices, leather, and an undertone of frost that teased at your senses.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you replied coolly, forcing your voice to remain steady despite the quickened thrum of your pulse. You deliberately brought the strawberry to your lips and took a bite, savoring the sweetness as a distraction. “I was enjoying the party. Something you seem to be incapable of doing without making it about you.”

Loki’s laughter rumbled low and deep, like distant thunder, curling around you in a way that made it hard to breathe. “Oh, I’m quite capable of enjoying myself, believe me,” he said, his voice layered with dark amusement. “I just find these… mortal festivities rather quaint.”

“Quaint?” You raised an eyebrow, the word dripping with disbelief as you gestured toward the decadent dessert spread. “Says the man who just interrupted my quiet moment at the dessert table.”

His smirk widened, the kind of expression that could unravel nerves and stir intrigue all at once. “Perhaps I wanted a taste of something sweeter,” he murmured, his tone infused with a deliberate intimacy that sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.

The strawberry caught in your throat for a moment, and you forced yourself to swallow, cursing the way your skin betrayed you. Loki noticed, of course he did. His keen gaze flickered over your face, amusement lighting up his sharp features. He tilted his head, the picture of faux innocence.

“Did I say something amiss?” he asked smoothly, the corners of his mouth twitching in barely concealed delight.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered under your breath, the words escaping as you stepped away from the table, hoping to put some distance between yourself and the maddening force of his presence.

Yet Loki followed, his movements unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world to unravel you.

“I’ve been called worse,” he quipped lightly, his voice as smooth as silk. His hands were tucked casually behind his back, yet his proximity felt charged, as if the space between you crackled with unspoken intent. “But tell me, darling, why are you so eager to escape me? Surely you don’t find my company that intolerable.”

“It’s not intolerance,” you shot back, turning on your heel to glare at him. “It’s self-preservation.”

He stepped closer, and the air seemed to grow heavier, the warmth of the room fading beneath the cool intensity of his gaze. His voice dropped, low and husky, the kind of sound that made your pulse stutter.

“And what, pray tell, are you preserving yourself from?”

The question hung between you, tangible and electric. His words weren’t a challenge, nor a taunt-they were a doorway, left slightly ajar, daring you to step through.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words dissolved before they could form, leaving only the sound of your breath quickening in the charged silence. Loki’s gaze lingered on you, his smirk softening into something deeper, something that threatened to pull you under if you stared too long.

“Do let me know when you figure it out,” he said, his tone almost gentle now, as though the shift had caught even him by surprise. Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned and brushed past you, leaving the faintest brush of his coat against your arm.

You exhaled sharply, suddenly aware of how tightly you’d been holding your breath. Your heart thundered in your chest, every nerve still attuned to where he had stood just moments before. The room felt smaller now, as though his presence lingered, an echo of something dangerous and enticing.

You spent the next hour doing everything in your power to avoid Loki, though it felt like he was everywhere at once. His presence seemed to saturate the room, no matter how crowded it was. Whenever you turned, there he was: leaning casually against the bar, exchanging sly remarks with Natasha, or simply watching you with that insufferable smirk that sent heat creeping up your neck. It felt deliberate, a calculated game where the rules were known only to him, and you were the unwilling prize.

Finally, the weight of his gaze became too much. You slipped out of the main hall and into one of the quieter hallways, the muffled hum of the party fading behind you. The air here was cooler, the festive decorations sparser, and you exhaled a shaky breath, leaning against the wall to collect yourself.

“Running away again?”

The low, teasing voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you spun around, heart leaping to your throat. Loki stood at the end of the hallway, his silhouette sharp and imposing against the soft glow of a nearby string of fairy lights. The warm glimmer of the lights only seemed to enhance his cool, detached elegance, making him look every bit the dark prince he often pretended not to be.

“This isn’t running,” you said, forcing a steadiness into your voice that you didn’t feel. “It’s called taking a break.”

His lips curved into that familiar, maddening smile as he began to close the distance between you, each step slow and deliberate. “And yet, here I am. Drawn to you like a moth to a flame.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms in an attempt to appear unruffled, though your pulse quickened the closer he came. “Do you practice being this insufferable, or does it come naturally?”

“It’s a gift,” he replied smoothly, the amusement in his tone only growing. “Though I must confess, your reactions make it all the more enjoyable.”

You took a step forward, unable to help yourself, despite the quiet voice in the back of your mind warning you to tread carefully. “Is that what this is? A game to you? Annoying me for your own amusement?”

Loki’s smirk faded, his expression shifting into something darker, more intense. His piercing gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, it felt like he was looking straight into your soul. “Oh, darling,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. “If I wanted to truly amuse myself, I’d do far more than simply annoy you.”

Your breath hitched, the implication hanging heavy between you, but you refused to let him see the effect he had on you. “Then what do you want, Loki?”

He stopped inches from you, the air between you charged and electric. His gaze was relentless, pulling you under like a riptide. “Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice low and hypnotic, “I simply want to see how far you’ll let me go.”

Your body betrayed you, heat rising as his hand brushed lightly against your arm. The touch was featherlight, yet it sent a jolt of energy coursing through you, igniting every nerve.

“You should be careful,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Even as you spoke, there was no conviction behind the words, only a trembling uncertainty that made your heart pound. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Loki’s lips curved into a wicked smile, his confidence unwavering. “Danger is where I thrive, darling. Tell me… do you?”

Before you could respond, his hand rose to cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the chaos he stirred within you. His thumb brushed softly against your skin, a maddening contrast to the storm raging in your chest.

“Stop me,” he murmured, his voice intoxicatingly low, his breath warm against your lips. “If that’s what you truly want.”

But you didn’t.

You surged forward, closing the gap between you as your lips met his in a kiss that was equal parts fury and inevitability. It was raw, consuming, and all the more maddening because of how long you had fought it.

Loki’s arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips claimed yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs, leaving you reeling. His kiss wasn’t gentle-it was a battle for control, each movement demanding submission even as it ignited a fire within you.

One of his hands gripped your hip possessively while the other tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. The cold wall at your back and the solid heat of his body against yours were the only things grounding you as you surrendered to the moment.

When he finally pulled back, his lips brushed against your ear, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. “Indulgence has never been this exquisite.”

Your protests dissolved into a shaky exhale as his hand slid beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along the sensitive skin of your thigh, moving closer to where you ached for him most.

A sharp intake of breath betrayed you, and Loki chuckled softly, clearly revelling in your unravelling. “Say the word, darling,” he purred, his voice like silk and sin. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

But you didn’t.

Instead, your hands fisted in the front of his jacket, pulling him impossibly closer. Your voice was barely audible as you breathed, “Don’t stop.”

His eyes darkened, the icy blue of his gaze now molten with raw hunger. That insufferable smirk transformed into something primal, almost feral, as his fingers ventured higher beneath the hem of your dress. He moved with agonizing precision, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh until you shivered against the wall.

“Such a delicate thing,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that vibrated against your skin. “And yet, so very responsive.”

Before you could form a retort, his fingers slid higher, grazing over the damp fabric of the lace underwear. The sharp intake of breath you couldn’t suppress only seemed to fuel him, his lips curving in wicked satisfaction.

“Already wet for me,” he observed feeling the damp fabric, his tone laced with sinful amusement. “I knew you’d be eager, but this, darling, this is delightful.”

Your cheeks burned with equal parts embarrassment and desire, but your body betrayed you, arching toward his touch. Loki’s fingers pressed against your clothed heat, his thumb finding your swollen clit with unerring accuracy. He applied the barest amount of pressure, circling slowly, and a broken moan escaped your lips.

“Do you like that?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. “I do so enjoy hearing you mortals unravel for me.”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. But Loki wasn’t one to tolerate defiance. With a low chuckle, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of the lace and tugged them down with deliberate slowness, letting them pool at your ankles. The cool air against your bare skin sent another shiver racing through you.

“You’re even lovelier like this,” he purred, his fingers sliding between your folds, collecting the slick evidence of your arousal. “So wet.” He breathed the words out “So ready.”

His hand moved with a skill that left you gasping, two fingers plunging inside you with a smooth, practiced motion. Your walls clenched around him instinctively, drawing a pleased hum from his lips. His thumb resumed its torment on your clit, alternating between slow circles and deliciously firm pressure.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he pumped his fingers deeper. “So perfect, so pliant and all for me, no more running now pet.”

The sound of your laboured breathing mingled with the faint buzz of the party in the distance, though the world beyond this moment felt impossibly far away. Your hands clutched at the lapels of his jacket, desperate for something to anchor yourself as pleasure coiled tighter in your stomach.

Loki pressed his body against yours, his hard length evident even through the layers of his tailored trousers. He tilted his head, capturing your lips in a kiss that was every bit as consuming as his touch. His tongue slid against yours, matching the rhythm of his fingers as they drove you closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum.” The snarled whispered against your lips, his voice rough with need. “I command it.”

You cried out softly as the tension within you snapped, your orgasm crashing over you in a wave of blinding heat. Loki’s name tumbled from your lips in a breathless plea, and he drank in the sound like the most decadent wine.

He didn’t stop. His fingers slowed, drawing out your pleasure until your legs trembled, barely able to hold your weight. Only then did he withdraw, his hand glistening with your release. He brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with an exaggerated slowness that made your cheeks burn.

“Exquisite,” he said, his voice low and smug. “Every bit as divine as I imagined.”

You could barely catch your breath, still leaning against the wall for support as he adjusted the hem of your dress with almost mocking care. He straightened, brushing his fingers over your flushed cheek, and leaned in close once more.

“Don’t think this is the end, darling,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your ear. “I’ve only just begun.”

Loki’s fingers lingered on your cheek, his touch deceptively tender given the heat still radiating from his gaze. Before you could recover, his hands slid down to your waist, firm and commanding as he turned you effortlessly to face the wall. The cold surface pressed against your palms, grounding you for a fleeting moment before his body closed in behind yours.

“You didn’t think I’d be satisfied with just that, did you?” he murmured, his breath warm against the back of your neck. One of his hands smoothed over the curve of your hip while the other brushed your hair aside, exposing the sensitive skin of your neck. His lips followed, planting open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, nipping and sucking just enough to leave faint marks.

“Loki,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but whether it was a plea or a protest, you weren’t sure.

“Say my name again,” he commanded, his tone dark and heady, as his hands slid down to the hem of your dress, gathering the fabric in a deliberate, tantalizing motion. He bunched it around your waist, baring you to him completely. His hands roamed over your exposed skin, squeezing, caressing, and claiming every inch as his own.

You felt him then, hard and insistent against your lower back. The realization sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and a soft whimper escaped before you could stop it. Loki chuckled, low and predatory, clearly pleased with your response.

“You’ve no idea how exquisite you are,” he said, his voice a velvet caress as he undid his trousers with an unhurried ease. The sound of fabric shifting and the faint metallic click of his belt made your heart race, anticipation knotting in your stomach.

His hands found your hips again, gripping them with enough force to leave an impression as he positioned himself behind you. The blunt head of his cock pressed against your slick entrance, and he paused, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“This is your last chance, darling,” he purred, his voice rich with dark amusement. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

You bit your lip, trembling with need and the intoxicating tension he created. “Don’t stop,” you whispered, the words barely audible but filled with certainty.

Loki growled low in his throat, the sound primal and triumphant, before he pushed into you in one smooth thrust. The stretch was delicious, a mix of pain and pleasure that made your knees buckle, though his hands kept you firmly in place. He filled you completely, holding still for a moment as though savoring the way your body molded around him.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough with restraint. “You were made for this.”

He began to move, slow and deliberate at first, each thrust calculated to make you feel every inch of him. His grip on your hips tightened as he picked up the pace, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing faintly in the hallway. The distant hum of the party felt like it was in another world entirely-this moment belonged only to the two of you.

“Do you feel that?” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “Do you feel how perfectly you take me?”

You couldn’t speak, your words dissolving into broken moans as he drove into you harder, deeper, each thrust hitting a spot that made your vision blur. One of his hands slid around your waist, finding your clit with unerring precision. His fingers circled the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts, drawing you closer to the edge once again.

“That’s it,” he urged, his tone softening into a dangerous kind of sweetness. “Give yourself to me. Surrender, darling.”

Your body obeyed, the coil of pleasure snapping as your second orgasm tore through you. You cried out his name, your walls clenching around him as he groaned in response, his pace growing erratic. With a few more punishing thrusts, Loki followed you over the edge, spilling himself inside you with a shuddering growl.

He stayed there for a moment, his chest pressed against your back, his breath warm against your ear as you both struggled to catch your breath. Slowly, he pulled out, his hands steadying you as your legs threatened to give way.

“Oh pet, you're magnificent.,” he murmured, his lips grazing the nape of your neck in a way that sent one final shiver coursing through you. His tone was softer now, but the unmistakable smugness lingered, igniting both irritation and something darker within you. “You've surpassed even my wildest expectations.”

You turned your head just enough to meet his gaze, catching the glint of satisfaction in his piercing blue eyes. He didn’t bother to hide it-he looked like a man who had just won a prize he’d been chasing for ages. Loki smirked, his movements unhurried as he adjusted his trousers and smoothed the wrinkled fabric of your dress with surprising care, the gesture more mocking than tender.

“We should return to the party,” he said, his voice light and teasing, as though nothing significant had just transpired between the two of you. Before you could respond, he reached into his jacket and withdrew a handkerchief, pressing it into your hand with a devilish grin. “You’ll be needing that. Can’t have you making a mess all over the floor can we?”

You stared at the crisp square of fabric, your cheeks flushing anew as the implication settled over you. Loki’s gaze lingered, heavy with amusement, as you adjusted your dress and tried in vain to steady your breathing. He leaned casually against the wall, utterly composed, as if he hadn’t just unravelled you completely in the quiet shadows of the hallway.

“This stays between us,” you said, your voice sharp as you jabbed a finger in his direction. Despite your stern tone, the slight tremble in your hand betrayed the lingering effect he had on you.

His grin only widened, maddening in its audacity. “Naturally, darling. Consider it our little Yuletide secret.”

You glared at him, determined to hold your ground, but the warmth of his gaze, still smouldering with an intensity that made your knees weak, threatened to undo you all over again. With a frustrated huff, you pushed past him, your steps hurried as you made your way back to the party.

The hum of festive music and the cheerful chatter of your teammates enveloped you like a shield, but it did little to banish the lingering heat in your body. You tried to lose yourself in the crowd, smoothing your hair and grabbing a drink to distract yourself. Yet, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t resist a glance over your shoulder.

Loki was still there, leaning casually in the hallway entrance like a predator surveying its territory. His eyes found yours instantly, and the unreadable expression on his face sent a jolt of something you refused to name straight to your core. He raised his glass in a mock toast, his smirk returning, and then disappeared into the shadows, leaving you with a pounding heart and a sinking suspicion.

This wasn’t over- not by a long shot.

[tillsfan]

a dive into Till’s feelings regarding Ivan and Mizi!

ivantill’s whole thing is being INSANELY complicated. i am a full on believer that they have mutual (unrealized) feelings, but i think the word “love” is definitely too vague to properly describe what they have. vivinos said a “deep LOVE/HATE” relationship for a reason.

i think till both genuinely feeling love for ivan yet hating him at the same time is absolutely reasonable. ivan has pushed and pulled till his whole life. till never felt secure near ivan, as much as he cares about him. but, ivan was always there. till felt comfort with ivan’s presence despite the lack of security he gave. till heavily valued ivan’s opinion, getting upset when ivan implied he didn’t see till as a friend. he trusted ivan enough to attempt to run away with him, and he potentially would have spent the rest of his life with ivan if they actually escaped.

i while love mutual love ivantill as much as the next guy, saying their feelings were 100% romantic is wrong. their emotions towards one another being so raw is something that defines them, which is why it’s difficult to put their mutual feelings into a specific box.

another thing we need to take into account is that neither of them know what love really is. they inhabit a world that isn’t MEANT for humans to love. they were never taught what love is and how to feel it. this is part of the reason they could never develop properly. they live in a world where the concept of romance and relationships aren’t properly established between humans.

but, i do believe like they could’ve had a chance under different circumstances. they were a slowburn that was never able to properly develop because, again, they lived in a world that didn’t allow them to, and they both ruined things for themselves. ivan had a huge tendency to self sabotage because of his severely low self esteem. he convinced himself that his feelings were shallow, and projected that onto till through his actions, confusing and distressing the latter. in addition, till was avoidant of the reality in front of him, ivan. due to till feeling such a lack of security with ivan, and never being able to understand ivan, he avoided intimacy with him altogether. till also just has a fear of intimacy in general. there was a significant amount of miscommunication between both parties.

in addition, saying that till didn’t love mizi is just. false. he dedicated all of his life to her, she was literally his muse. he loved her in his own way, even if he had to put her on a pedestal to do so. yes, he didn’t know anything about her as a person, but that doesn’t mean his feelings weren’t real. saying he never truly loved her undermines so much of his character.

mizi was till’s coping mechanism, yes. he adored her from a distance. he liked the idea of her and not her as an individual, but that doesn’t make his feelings any less real. he loved and cared for her. we saw how torn he was after mizi disappeared in round 5. he almost DIED because of his grief, before ivan ‘saved’ him. his feelings towards her were as authentic as they could be for someone who kept everyone at a distance.

while you could say till’s love for mizi isn’t inherently romantic, the same can be said for ivantill. nothing stated in the patreon confirmed what EXACTLY till felt towards mizi besides her being a fantastical figure to him. and his “love” towards ivan doesn’t HAVE to be romantic (even though i believe it is), it could very much be platonic. vivinos is purposefully vague with what kind of love each character feels because, as i said, feelings aren’t something that can be properly established in this universe.

hope u guys enjoyed my rant Yay 🌹

[therealcocoshady]

Request please🤗: Marshall x Reader, he's extra protective of her while she's pregnant

A/N : Hey ! I know you posted that Ask a while ago but I recently found it while sorting through them, and I wrote a little blurb. I hope you like it 💕.

Shields Up

CW : Pregnancy - Mention of past miscarriage - Marshall Mathers being protective

As a public figure, you were used to rumors. You had chosen this life and you were fully aware that it came with the territory. As a content creator, your job was literally based on your ability to get people’s attention, after all. After years of hard work, you had gathered a pretty huge following and you had quickly learned that the bigger you were, the more rumors would emerge. Collaborations, alleged feuds, made-up drama and, of course, dating rumors. Nothing seemed to be off the table for the media outlets and, even though it hadn’t been easy to navigate at first, you had grown accustomed to it. In fact, most of the time, you didn’t go out of your way to confirm nor deny anything. You just focused on doing what you loved, making good content and your fans were used to you being private on some parts of your life and you were often praised for your ability to be honest, sometimes vulnerable, without giving too much away. People seemed to like the fact that you weren’t ready to commodify your privacy and your relationships for engagement and clickbait.

So, when rumors started to emerge about you dating Eminem, no one was exactly surprised that both of you stayed silent. After all, you were both known to be notoriously private, focusing on your careers and preferring that the attention remained on your work you put out. That being said, none of you got out of your way to hide the relationship either, so anyone who was looking out for subtle clues could probably find them. You followed some of his friends and family members on Instagram, were sometimes spotted to events he would perform at… It was that kind of situation of something basically being public knowledge without ever being broadcasted.

After years spend together, you were in agreement that it was better that your relationship was kept separate from your professional, public personas. Both of you were known to have a strong work ethic and, though you didn’t have any expertise in music and he didn’t understand much about content creation, you respected each other’s career too much to let your relationship overshadow anything. You knew full-well that, no matter how good you were at your jobs, some of the attention would inevitably be focused on your personal lives. Detroit being a fairly small city, it wasn’t rare for you to attend the same events as him, but you always made sure to arrive separately and not engage in PDA. At most, you’d been spotted chatting on a couple of occasions over the years, but nothing in your demeanors indicated that there was any intimacy between the two of you. Until you got pregnant, at least.

As soon as you handed him the positive pregnancy test, Marshall instantly became more protective of you. You were both overjoyed by the news. Emotional, too. Almost a year prior, you had accidentally gotten pregnant. It wasn’t planned by any means, but you both agreed to keep the baby. Sadly, you ended up miscarrying a few weeks later, still in the early first trimester. Before then, you had always said you didn’t need to raise kids to feel fulfilled, and Marshall had been pretty adamant about not wanting more kids. But the event changed everything, stirring something deep within you, and it didn’t take long before you started actively trying. The miscarriage had been a tough pill to swallow, at first, but none of you really addressed it. After all, you knew it wasn’t a rare occurence, and that these things happened. But you didn’t realized how badly it had left its marks on Marshall until you got pregnant again.

He did not become overbearing of controlling - it just wasn’t him - but there was a new, unmistakable layer of attentiveness and protectiveness. It started with him making sure you were alright throughout the day, reminding you to eat, hydrate and rest, often checking in on how you were feeling. The second you expressed any discomfort, such as fatigue or nausea, he would step in, ready to do anything to make it easier for you. The thermostat would be perfectly adjusted, the fridge always stocked with your favorite snacks and he even got some of the specific teas the doctor had recommended. Of course, he absolutely refused to have you carry anything remotely heavy - not even your oversized tote - and whenever you started talking about deadlines for your projects, he reminded you that the last thing you needed was stress.

You thought he’d keep on maintaining his distance at public events - at least as long as you kept the pregnancy hidden. However, you were proven wrong when you both attended a fundraiser for some Detroit charity. As usual, he skipped the red carpet while you did the photo call but, as soon as you were done, you spotted him, waiting for you. Usually, he’d be in some corner of the room, talking to Paul or some acquaintances, but his attention was unmistakably on you. Throughout the night, he didn’t hover or smother you, but he kept closer than usual, and when you walked through the crowded room, he guided you with a hand placed on the small of your back, shielding you from jostling bodies.

« Are you alright? » you asked quietly, to which he hummed and nodded. « You don’t have to stay so close, you know, » you gently reminded him, your tone teasing and affectionate, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. « Just looking out for you both » he murmured with a faint grin. Your heart swelled and you couldn’t help but find him adorable, so much so that it took a lot of self-control on your part not to kiss him right then and there. Instead, you simply stood there, smiling at each other. As the night event on, you were both solicited by friends and acquaintances, but you could still feel Marshall’s sharp gaze on you, scanning each and every individual that engaged with you, as if to make sure they weren’t a threat. As the night wore on, Marshall’s vigilance didn’t waver. He made sure you always had a glass of water nearby and checked in with you subtly, asking if she needed to sit or if you were getting too warm under the venue’s lights. At one point, when he noticed the press swarmed near the entrance, he positioned himself slightly in front of you, a silent barrier that made it clear you weren’t to be overwhelmed or bothered in any way. By the time you left, you were both exhausted and grateful. You expected to leave in separate cars, as you always did, but instead of sticking to the usual routine, he opened the door and helped you in. Cameras flashed, capturing the rare moment, but none of you really cared. You were simply looking forward to the perspective of heading home for some much-needed rest, and you could tell that he needed to have you close, at least for his own peace of mind.

By the next morning, the Internet was ablaze. Photos and videos from the fundraiser were everywhere, showing the two of you together in ways that left no room for ambiguity. People were notably crazy about one picture, where he could be spotted guiding you through a small crowd, one hand on your back. Twitter threads speculated wildly. « We’ve seen him with her before, but this? This is different, » one user wrote, linking to a clip of him helping her into the car. « I’m telling you, they’re not hiding it anymore. ». The speculation grew more intense with every passing hour. Was this your way of confirming the relationship? Were you going public after years of silence? Marshall, as always, ignored the noise. He spent the morning in his home studio, tinkering with beats, while you scrolled through your phone, half-amused and half-exasperated by the Internet’s obsession. You walked over, wrapping your arms around him from behind. « You know, you’re kind of bad at the whole ‘keeping a low profile’ thing lately. ». He tilted his head back, looking at you with mock indignation. « I’m just making sure you’re good. They’re the ones reading into it. » You laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. « Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty amazing. »

[imkazz]

saiki k season 2 lore is insane

cant believe some of my moots said there was barely any lore or character development until the last 2 episodes because what the fuck is thissss (huge spoilers)

making this more organised than my last post about season 1 and the finale

teruhashi at first i really really hated her- of course, i loved and adored her as a character but as a person? no. she is a play on the anime trope of 'perfect mary sue girl' and its so fuckin weird becuase its both exactly that and exactly the opposite. she is perfect and looks beautiful and nobody can compare and basically everyone is falling in love with her or completely and utterly jealous of her- exactly like one of those stereotypical girls in those kinds of animes. but then at the same time shes not. teruhashi is intelligent, cunning, calculating, and puts up a delicate facade practically 24/7. she knows her abilities and utilises them to her absolute fullest, and i completely respect her for that. teruhashi recognises that she is 'gods favourite' and she is not shy in the slightest to manipulate that to ensure she gets the advantage. however, this knowledge of everyone else completely obliterates her own self-perception: she believes that she herself is the very role she is acting. teruhashi is determined that she is absolutely kind and perfect and is in no way wrong with anything she does. and with her lack of experience involving rejection and plainness, she completely overlooks saiki and is utterly confused with him as a whole. and at first, teruhashis obsession with saiki is about getting him to just become another guy- get him to say 'offu' to her. she bugs him, follows him, comes up with ploys, manipulates the world around her to try and get it to happen, uses all of her skills to her advantage, only for nothing. i didnt like her as a high school student to another because she painfully reminds me of a lot of girls i was friends with.

but then as the series goes on...... teruhashi changes. i think it was a gradual thing (such as teruhashi becoming friends with yumehara, even- i dont think she actually had female friends up until yumehara because of the amount of guys around her +the fact that all other girls near her would get overshadowed), but it really showed up for me in episode 17 of season 2. where teruhashi got jealous of aiura (fuuck i gotta talk about this diva). yeahhh it was not pretty. teruhashi began changing herself so that saiki could notice her (and i notice that before, teruhashi had only tried to use her own personal skills to get him to say 'oh wow' so this is the first time shes tried changing herself) and i found saikis attempts to dissuade her interesting too. typically, with all of his attempts, saiki would go into her mind and use his powers to try and turn her off, but this time, he actually told aiura to do it.

i think it was also very interesting that aiura was also changing around her appearance, as it really helped set things in for teruhashi. as they both changed what they were like (teruhashi for a boy (saiki), aiura for a girl (teruhashi)) so teruhashi was only getting more and more confused with that bit. 'if im getting more gyaru and aiura more kawaii then why isnt he reacting to either of us?'. and then saiki gets aiura to talk to teruhashi, and i also found what aiura said to teruhashi interesting. it was all that stuff about saiki and what kind of girl he liked. and i really think that she was telling the truth. i really feel that aiura was just saying things about saiki about a whole for all his relationships, romantic or platonic. he likes people who stay true to themselves. kaido is unafraid to feed his delusions/imagination (whichever you please), toritsuka is always honest with saiki (even if nobody wants to hear that pervy stuff), aiura is unafraid to be boisterous and stylish (even if she is a little bit freaky), kuboyasu is genuinely trying to become a better person (even if it sometimes doesnt work), akechi is determined and didnt let saiki sway him (despite all the obstacles that saiki put in his way), nendo is undoubtedly stupid but he is still kind (saiki watched him jump in front of a truck to save a kid thousands of times), on and on and on.

not only that, it is painfully clear to us the viewers that changing appearances doesnt matter in the slightest to saiki- he only sees it for like 3 seconds (i think he said) before it becomes muscle. curling hair or applying makeup or having more meat on the titties doesnt matter to him at all. what matters is what happens in their head, because while he doesnt get an extensive idea about their outside, he gets overly surrounded by everything on the inside. and thats probably why aiura saw that and said that to teruhashi (even if she cant explain the full reason). so teruhashi returns to normal and says that she will make saiki gasp with her own abilities.

but the strange thing is that shes already given that speech before. i cant say exact episodes from the top of my head but she has totally already said that she would use her charms and looks and sweetness to make him say 'offu' and he has always tried to dissuade her using his powers. but it was this one that made him gasp. and like. i was not expecting it in the slightest ok. but i think it makes sense- she has discovered that she can be confident in herself as a person rather than just her natural looks and is determined nonetheless. i think that saiki recognised around this area that she genuinely liked him as he was, even if she had thought he was 'gloomy and hard to read' (i believe she thought that when with his perv grandpa?) she still wanted to be around him and still had that crush. i love how when teruhashi is talking with other girls (kuriko too, but in this specific case im thinking about is rifuta) about her crush on saiki kusuo, that she would mention that at first, it was pure spite and disbelief that anyone could ignore her like that. and then, teruhashi wouldnt fail to continue and say that she grew to have a genuine crush on saiki that wasnt built upon annoyance at the fact he walked past her. and he discovers that he doesnt particularly mind being the object of her affection (unless her fanbase gets in the way oof) so i think that the offu from was a sort of embarrassed yet begruging acceptance towards this parasite of a girl who has attached herself to him lol

aiura shes sososo cool. i love the freshness(?) of her personality for the rest of the cast. finally a female psychic and i am in love with herr. at first i was a bit skeptical with the whole 'finding my soulmate' thing and i was cackling when saiki was just like 'ah yes she is legit but i am Just Better'. and then she continued to show up more and i love her. shes so quirky and very different from the other girls, who we see as much more feminine and in tune with romance anime tropes than anything, and then she comes in with the gyaru style and i love that so much. not only that, her slang and way of speech compared to the other girls (teruhashi, yumehara, mera) is also very interesting.

not only that, i really loved seeing the anime through her eyes and the auras of other characters including the shock-comedy of saikis. then, as she finds out about his powers and all i really loved how they worked together. i know a lot of other characters also saw that, seeing through teruhashi who commented that they were like the 'opposites attract' trope with 'boring' and 'flamboyant'. but then i also really liked how they worked even without any of the other characters opinions. aiura is still not giving up about the whole soulmates thing and saiki just lets it happen. because his ulterior motives is that she would ward off teruhashi so he begrudgingly accepts her to be near him as she pesters him to date/bang.

and then adding toritsuka into the paragraph, the pk psychic kids are golden. i love love love their dynamics. saiki has more respect for aiura only because he holds none for toritsuka. toritsuka sees saiki as superior and saw aiura as a pair of boobs in the beginning. aiura wants to be with saiki and just hates toritsuka because he tries to flirt. and for every mission they try to do together it always ends up in comedy. when saiki turned kaido and nendo to stone? holy fucking shit that really summed up what they were like. the psychic kids really are a weird band of teenagers with powers and it really showed their personalities in that meeting because. aiura stripping in saikis bed and toritsuka peeking through the door and saiki only sees a pile of muscles on his bed and a perv watching through his door. like cmon

i also want to dig deeper into her powers. she is completely ok with people knowing about her powers (like toritsuka but unlike saiki). she uses them to help people out (unlike toritsuka but like saiki). she uses her powers to her own benefit (like toritsuka but unlike saiki). she doesnt want to burden people with her powers (unlike toritsuka but like saiki). i find them soso interesting too because she questions why saiki doesnt use his powers more openly esp because he just has so many at his disposal. and then he sort of shows her why its a bad idea to so openly help people out by the result of mera and her father and i feel like she toned it down a bit after that too (at least publicly).

childhood lore this was insane. the buildup and everything and how it was presented. it first started with akechi being introduced as a new student and it was already unsettling to see saiki be actually a bit nervous about this guy. and then even more of a shock to see this guy blatantly ask saiki if he was a psychic because what- how the hell would this guy suspect, much less know?! and we learn that they were classmates in elementary school and we see a barely-there flashback to saiki standing in a classroom with childrens bodies scattered around him. so the suspense has started. and then we continue to get pestered by akechi but we know what he wants, but not why and thats the whole deal of it. he is the embodiment of those anime characters who are scarily good at deducing things and has a perfect memory too which makes it all the scarier because we know hes not an idiot unlike the rest of saikis friends.

and then to actually know what happens while saiki is going back in time to change it? masterpiece. we learn more about why akechi is pursuing this answer along with what actually happened to make that happen, along with why saiki cant change it without some sort of grave consequence. and the new knowledge that saiki as a kid without limiters is stronger than teenage saiki with limiters is even scarier because of course saiki wouldnt be able to stop himself.. truly an op main character. i also found it interesting how saiki k (the anime) manages to reuse powers over and over too and in such creative ways and in strange comebacks. he went back in time for his parents, he rewound the earth to one year prior because of the volcano, relived the same moment of nendo dying like thousands of times.. they really only ever hinder him.

and then to know what happens? i thought akechi was a creep for following/knowing everything about saiki but.. knowing everything that he knew at the moment? makes sense. definitely creepy, but much better understood. i feel like it was a good decision from saiki to tell him about his powers. if this isnt the first time theyve been like this, then it really does make sense. they were kids. they still are kids. and omfg saiki saying "i decided not to tell anyone about my abilities after that" because all it did was get akechi into more trouble from bullies. but they are now teenagers and have better cognitive understanding than when they were elementary kids so i feel it was justified for saiki to tell akechi because, after all of that trying with time travel, saiki couldnt stop the series of events unless he was making the world suffer. and akechi deserved at least a bit of closure about what actually happened and why saiki left.

and i feel like this series of events is also what makes saiki who he is in the beginning of the anime. he doesnt want friends at all because if they found out about his power they would be curious and want to know more and blab about it to others. and saiki knows the result from having lived it. because if he gets attached, people he loves get hurt. trying to make friends only causes suffering as akechi got bullied for claiming all those things and saiki hurt other kids using his powers because his emotions got out of control (rightfully!! he was like 8 and his best friend was getting bullied!!! of course he wouldnt be able to control any outbursts).

shipwrekced shipwrecked. i cant forget about this one but i was saving this. i realise i didnt write any notes for this one because i was wayy too focused on the actual happenings to comment. because what the fuck. 

yeah that about sums up what i thought at first.

the tropes. holy shit. they added so so many tropes into this one it was. the teenagers on a ship get shipwrecked on an island. all they have are the clothes theyre wearing and miraculously the pantry which washed ashore along with some supplies to build a raft. like all the typical anime things. and even when they suggest to build a raft, saiki agrees with them because its a good cover up. and i really loved the stereotypes that were put upon them: the loner (saiko), the cannibal (mera), pretty woman (teruhashi), leader (kuboyasu), idiot with good ideas (nendo), then saiki and kaido as the ‘followers’ or ‘helpers’.

then i found how saiki got them out genius, despite the fact he was panicking in the beginning about how to fix it. like of course he should be panicking because you cant see any rational way to get out of the situation without telling the rest of them about his powers. and so he tries to keep them alive for a little bit (going home and sleeping, buying food :sob holy shit bruhh), and then when he finally finds a way out (the raft) they play it off as stupid despite being such a stereotype of any shipwrecked movies. and even teruhashi realised that something was off, right? how his clothes were perfectly clean and all, but when he ‘went to work’ (i totally thought he was off to kill something with the saw helpp), he came back dirty. and of course! only saiki would make a whole new island near japan as a way of keeping his powers secret..

i honestly have no idea how to feel about this because.. how did they move on so quickly?! your students/classmates got trapped on an island for a couple of days. shouldnt this be a bigger deal- shouldnt saiki be known as ‘the kid who got trapped on an island’? like bro…. anime logic (if anyone else could. tell me what the hell was up with the shipwrecked episodes other than being satire towards other shipwrecked medias and being a bit of a comedy along with character development towards some characters like saiko)

friends+classmates so like. kuboyasu is a previous gangster and trying to become better/normal (anime trope). and kaido has middle schooler syndrome and thinks hes so cool (/affectionate). they are the two people you would least expect to become besties right. and yet they fit together so well. kuboyasu wants to become normal while kaido wants anything but. kuboyasu is actually strong and able to protect people while kaido can only dream. and it really shows during that mugging episode where kaido knows about kuboyasus past and yet still tells him to run. kaido is so weak and delusional that he probably gives kuboyasu a reason to remain calm and to 'protect his innocence' while kaido wants to be jet black wings and protect everyone no matter their pasts or abilities despite constantly failing and getting into danger and needing that saving himself. and even after that, they continue to hang out with or without others (such as building that fort or taking motorbike classes together??? or even may i mention when kaido trapped himself inside the coffin and kuboyasu was trying to coax him out). so then imagine my shock and delight when they started calling each other shun and aren like OMFGG?? calling people by their first names in japanese culture is a sign of being close with each other (such as chiyo and kokomi). theyre always in close proximity to each other and i adore themm

okok then saiki. and his friendssss. these episodes as a whole just show how much hes grown to care for themm. he follows yumehara and her boyfriend-sworn friend(?) to ensure that neither gets hurt from their misunderstanding. he warms up the classroom for all his classmates because he caress. he foils the plans of the news team to make teruhashi look bad. he stops hairo from getting killed during a robbery. he makes kaidos prank actually happen. he tries to throw akechi off in order to protect both of them from his power. he fucking saved yumehara from falling to her death. he gets beaten up by some fourth graders to help out yuuta. he gets everyone to return their gifts to mera on her birthday. he uses hypnosis to get his class to look better while they perform that play. he catches teruhashi before she falls and carries her to the nurse. he probably wouldnt have done half those things in the first part of season 1. so many of those require him to genuinely care for the people hes helping and not only that, some of those things draw attention to him and he would only let that happen if he truly cares for who he is aiding.

then to add to more about relationships between characters that arent saiki. kuboyasu and saiko. it definitly started as a hate-hate relationship. but then we see saiko crying in the bathroom because mean things were written on his desk and then we also see kuboyasu had tried to clean it off before saiko got there. my heartttt. not only that, but saiko who didnt care about peasants who went out of his way to redo his mansion to fit their tastes? and at first it was for his own ego (so similar to teruhashi omfgg) but then just like her, saiko began to actually care and didnt even understand it himself about why he was so focused on getting them to like him. and ofc he is an ass. he rolls down the window only to close it and drive away because its cold. he withdraws funding from the play just because the class was going behind his back. but its barely his fault. everything is handed to him on a silver platter and he doesnt know better. while kuboyasu had to work for everything. before he was working as a gang leader but now he is working towards being better. and aughh

world lore first off i need to say that the foreshadowing for this was INSANE. do you hear me. i am shaking you by the shoulders while i say that i am still utterly speechless by the implications and impact of episode.

the fucking volcano. holy shit. holy shit. there is so much i have to talk about considering the anime +worldbuilding +foreshadowing +buildup. this is a comedy anime. this is an anime that makes fun of anime tropes constantly. girl running to school with bread in her mouth. background characters. siblings who are a lil too freaky with their siblings. mary sue anime girls. the idiot friends. and then this???? the fact that saiki has been in a time loop for the same year for four years straight is. its literally mentioned by saiki himself when he says 'you might notice something off about this anime' and its poking fun at the fact that high school animes always loop around in order to continue publishing (like how its meant to represent just one year for the main character but theyve had seven winter episodes/chapters and three birthdays for a character). its poking fun at that bit and it uses saiki himself to do it.

the worldbuilding and foreshadowing come hand in hand. in the episode where kuboyasu was first introduced, toritsuka began talking to him about being a transfer student. when kuboyasu asked when toritsuka had entered he said 'second term of second year' so the same as kuboyasu. and we brushed it off as toritsuka being a dumbass. because of course we would, of course kuboyasu would too. but fuckk. we have four transfer students in one year all in second term?? we thought it was just a fucking anime trope thing again. but no. it was all purposeful. and then to add to that, we already knew that saiki had time travel powers. he could control time, we know from his restoration along with (later on from this episode) how he travels back through time for his parents. it was all deliberately set up in that way and so just holy shit.

and now i have to actually talk about that segment itself. the earthquake in the beginning was seemingly comedy and then we see saiki training. cool but not too big of a deal. and then he starts telling us about what the fuck is up just as he tries to stop the volcano. like excuse me?? i found it so very interesting that he continues rewinding time in order to build up his powers daily yet keep the volcano from exploding and intertwining both the time powers and mind control in order to achieve it. and hes gone through second year of high school four times, yet his parents know. it was crazy how nonchalant they were about it too, saying 'oh he can always do it again right' like he is saving the world. how much longer would he do it? how much would he be willing to do? i find saiki so very interesting because he could always just. let the volcano explode but it is in his core to be kind and to help the ones he loves (including the rest of japan). he tries and he knows his limits and yet he is still ready to try again with a new set of abilities.

final thoughts before reawakened too hyperfixated. OOF. anyways im so sad the anime is almost over (for me loll). its sucked me into its grasp because it has everything im looking for. as a high schooler i love all the shenanigans but then as an anime lover i enjoy the satire tropes and as a theatre kid i love the gags and commentary and as a person who looks wayy too deeply into things i love the implications and dark undertones of the series.

[alexanderwales]

Pitchposting: The Waves

Here's the logline: a hero flits between universes where everything is different and yet all characters recur. The love interest is the same, whether she's a pirate captain, a cubicle worker, a bard, whatever. The villain is the same, whether he's a rear admiral, a corporate tyrant, or an evil overlord.

Multiverse stories are often about the path not traveled, the way that the world might be different. This would be a story about commonality, everything staying the same.

So there are some number of stories being told here, and the shape of all of them is exactly identical, all hitting the beats at the same time. A death in one means a death in the other, but our protagonist is only in one place at a time, so we see each beat only once and infer the rest. A car chase in one story is a ship chase in another. The climactic battle where soldiers crash against the castle walls becomes a climactic battle where the pirate horde smashes against the walls of a fort, and that turns into a modern cityscape where rioters smash against the walls of a towering skyscraper.

My vision here is that we do grand changes as we move between stories, only to find that everything is equivalent.

So what do you do with this? What's this sort of structure for? What cool stories or scenes does it lend itself to?

My first thought is to break it, naturally. If there are five or six realities that we're cycling through, maybe our protagonist can get just one of them onto a different track, one where fate has something else in store. I don't know how you would do this, there's this neat scene in my head where we go "all is lost -> all is lost -> all is lost -> all is ... wait, what's that?!".

My second thought is that having multiple realities moving in perfect synchronicity with each other allows for a way to really underscore a character, say something about them with thick red marker. The elemental thing that's supposed to define a tragedy is that the bad ending is something that came from within the character, right? Something that they could have stopped, if only they had been a different kind of person. The seeds of their downfall laying within them. So isn't there something nice about seeing that this is invariant? That the worlds are different, circumstances are different, but the choices are the same? You'd have to be incredibly careful with this (and the whole thing, really), because I think in constructing different parallels you might end up with something that the audience doesn't consider parallel. But it could work, layering the emotional beats on top of each other.

My third thought is what I think should have been my first thought: the story is one about mastery, coming to know and understand the rules, "winning" across all realities because of understanding, ideally with some kind of character synthesis along the way. I think this is ... well, difficult, given the rules as I've been talking about them. If there's a "twist", then it should be a twist that happens across all realities simultaneously. If there's something gained or lost, it should always have a parallel. I cannot immediately think of some clever way of breaking this system - something that the reader would understand to be clever or at least worthwhile. (I say reader, but this would be better in a visual medium.) Maybe "breaking it" in a different way is the ideal, pulling the realities into each other, swapping conceits and genres. But this, too, would take a lot of planning to pull off, and you'd need to be careful about these set pieces.

So if I were serious about this (which I'm not, this is pitchposting,) I would start out with our characters, then build some worlds around them, trying for maximum variation in those worlds. The plotting is also pretty vital, particularly the "standard" plot whether you're going to break that or not. I do really like the idea of having a single "mundane" world, a place of office buildings and stakes that are measured in lunch breaks and water cooler conversations. I want the swings to be extreme, but the parallels blindingly obvious when they're put in front of you.

To be clear, I'm not sure that this structure/gimmick could actually work. In a text medium, which is what I primarily work with, I think you'd have to spend too much time on blocking and descriptions and detail whenever you switched realities. Switching scenes can be rough even in the best of circumstances.

But it's an idea that I've had rolling around in my head, and if I can't do something with it, then I hope it can at least spark something in someone else.

[ross-hollander]

Now, if you keep going...

...down that beaten track, in the misty woods- that's past the hangar, you need to go further than that -you'll run into a training grounds. Old place, been in service for a while; lots of recruiting posters for jobs long since done and dusted on the walls, not a speck of the original paint un-peeled with age. There's an outfit that drills there, unusual folks; they call themselves the Four Horsemen, but then, so does every fifth mercenary unit, don't they?

There's Obsolescence, in her big sledgehammer of a 'mech. Nothing ever fixed on that baby, no, she just plasters over another quick-fix and keeps it moving. Substitutions, in-a-pinch replacements, sometimes just bolting a plate over it and hoping it doesn't make any weird noises. The silhouette of that thing is like a scrapyard heap come alive. She's always on about how they don't make them like they used to, and maybe she's right.

Then there's Isolation, with his skinny little skirmisher 'mech. It's the kind of 'mech you only notice the split second before it skirts around you and empties a warzone worth of firepower where your armor is weakest. He says it's never seen a shop- he's repaired it by hand, for a long, long time now, he says. He says you can only rely on yourself out there. Don't ask for help and don't give any, he'll say, with that gloomy scowl of his; none of us are in this together.

Can't forget Ruin, obviously, nobody can, not with his great, stomping artillery-battery of a 'mech. You'll hear it before you see it. He laments how he never gets to drill properly, to which the others say that if he "drilled properly" there wouldn't be a drill grounds left. He always says that if you're going to fight, you might as well make sure there ain't nothing left to go round two with. And hey, he likes to joke, there'll always be another habitable planet, what's a few nukes?

Fourth is Despair. She became a pilot after her family got painted across their living room by an autocannon shell, she says. Says that really, if you have the choice between being the one in the 'mech or the one running away from it...it's a no-brainer. (For that matter, she doesn't respect anyone much who isn't a pilot themselves.) She can run any 'mech like a dream, favorite being her personal sort of cruiserweight brawler, but in the off time she just kind of skulks. Life, to her, is what happens in the cockpit; nothing else counts.

They've been training there for as long as I know. It's just their stomping grounds, see. They're practicing for- I don't remember exactly the details, but they've got a big contract coming up, and they need to keep their routine nice and neat. Once I said I wished I could see them in actual combat. They said maybe. 'Someday.'

[springholly]

Part 1

More Mouthwashing Alien AU? Maybe.

This is the very first sketch I made for it:

The first sketch of the crew:

- Just some simple headshots, trying to get the feel for the characters.

- I kind of wish I had kept Curly's longer hair to go with the late 70s aesthetic. Also, Anya is supposed to have a Ripley esque early 80s perm, that is why her hair is so big.

- These were done without reference so that's why some of them are a bit unclear as to who they are supposed to represent in the story of Alien.

More Anya:

- Flamethrowers are a pain to draw.😔

The aftermath of the chestbursting:

- I really enjoy how Curly's corpse turned out in the fourth panel. I've never drawn a character from that angle before.

How the facehugger impregnation was supposed to go:

- I originally wanted Jimmy to cause Curly's infection to parallel him causing the crash. It would've been an intentional act that would've incapacitated Curly from the story just like in Mouthwashing.

- I however realized that the facehuggers don't exactly cause memory loss (don't believe even Curly is a big enough doormat to let that one slide)

and that Ash (Jimmy's parallel in Alien) wasn't out with the others investigating the signal.

- Thus, I decided to scrap it.

AU infodump:

- The characters are still space freighters working for Pony Express. (Yes, Polle the cat is a company provided luxury. Of course he'd be named Polle.)

- The characters still retain their personalities, for example, Anya isn't as outspoken and headstrong as Ripley, she's more stoic. And Jimmy is still the same demeaning asshole, not a sly british weirdo like Ash.

- Slight dialogue changes to fit the characters' voices better.

- Unlike in the film, Ash (Jimmy) isn't the last minute newcomer, instead it's still Daisuke (Brett). I wanted Jimmy to have the status of being Curly's best friend for plot reasons.

- The ship the crew are in is still called the Tulpar, but it's interior aesthetics follow the retro-futuristic look of the Nostromo.

- In this AU Pony Express has gone under far before the crew is informed about it. Of course, it has been bought out by Weyland-Yutani, and Jimmy has been programmed to join the crew and get into the captain's good graces.

- Weyland-Yutani know about the xenomorphs and want to study them, the crew is to be possibly sacrificed to retrieve the necessary info.

- The crew find the alien signal coming from LV-426.

- Curly is hesitant to approach due to possible danger.

- Jimmy appeals to the fact of them all losing their jobs anyways. Maybe whatever they find could prove to be a big payday?

- Curly yields to make Jimmy happy, thus dooming them all. They go and investigate.

- Curly gets facehugged and falls into a coma, the others (Daisuke and Swansea) want to bring him back in but Anya (like Ripley) wants to uphold the quarantine protocol.

- Jimmy (like Ash) breaks the protocol, putting them all in danger but appearing as a hero to the others.

- The same stuff happens. They study it: acid blood? Yikes! We are not getting that thing off Curly's face.

- It falls off on it's own, dead. Curly wakes up, all's well that ends well. Except for when he begins convulsing at the breakfast table and then promptly births a chestburster right from between his lungs.

- Panic ensues. At some point Jimmy deems the others too much of a danger for the mission and (for a few other reasons too) tries to kill Anya. Swansea saves the day and accidentally severs Jimmy's head.

- Turns out he's an android! They plug his severed head back online and learn what his mission was all along.

- Fuck that guy, we're blowing up the ship.

- Scratch that, Anya is blowing up the ship because everyone else dies.

- Our final girl escapes with the cat and all's well that ends well.🎉🎉🎉

Take a breather, I know that was a lot. I will write some more for this later, going more into the characters themselves and their relationships.

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (4)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007 @astolary @biancatomlinson @lauraagrace

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part four | next part >>>

"I think I need a drink."

"Oh don't be so dramatic," your cheeks flush bright red. It's bad enough you don't know what to wear to your date with Kuroo, worse now that your blonde cousin is here to make fun of you until you're nothing but a squealing mess of embarrassment. You have half a mind to kick Atsumu out of your flat and call Osamu for help.

Alas, the grey-haired counterpart is busy with his restaurant these days. So it won't be fair to put that kind of responsibility on his shoulders. Definitely not when his twin is currently on vacation.

Atsumu just sends you a lazy smile from the living room couch, "aw c'mon Y/N. This is probably the first time since Aoi left that you're finally interested in someone. Isn't that something worth celebrating?"

"It's just dinner," you argue.

"And dessert," Atsumu winks.

You throw a pillow at him. He cackles even when it slams right into his face, "I'm joking!" he wheezes like a child high on sweets, kicking up his legs like Sakura would when she's excited, "I just can't believe it! And with someone I can vouch for!"

"What does vouch mean?" Sakura asks from her seat. She had been so glued to the tv screen ever since her uncle had the greatest idea to watch the reruns of the two Frozen movies. Little does he know he'll be stuck re-winding it again and again until he knows the lyrics by heart.

"Vouch for, means like to confirm something, from personal experience," Atsumu replies.

"Hm," Sakura frowns, as though an adult trying to contemplate his words, "I don't understand."

"`It's like if you tell me that you won third place at the egg race," you lean over the couch to rearrange your daughter's hair, "and I say that's something I can vouch for, that you won third place."

You watch, heart melting as Sakura's lips form an 'o' shape. She blinks up at you, "I still don't understand."

Atsumu guffaws, "it's okay sweetie. You don't have to understand it yet. You want some more of those marshmallows?"

You slap your cousin's hand away from the half-empty bowl, "that's exactly why her teeth are rotting," You snap at him, "why don't you give her real food?"

"I will! Once you get off my back and go have some incredible se--"

You toss another pillow at him and his yelp makes you let out a small chuckle. Thank god Sakura can't really put two and two together yet, and for that you're glad. At least it's possible to shield her innocence from Atsumu's wide mouth.

"Can you just go?" mumbles the said man himself from behind the pillow, "I thought your date was at six."

"Yeah but it's--" and that's when you realise it's not half-past five like you thought it was five minutes ago, "Oh shi--I mean shoot," you cut a glance at Sakura while grabbing your bag off the kitchen counter, "I'm off. You take care of her and--"

You round the couch, plant a quick kiss atop your daughter's head before heading towards the door, "--you keep her safe 'Tsumu!" you holler while tugging on your loafers, "and Sakura? Eat your veggies!"

"But I hate them mum!"

"They're good for you, and--"

"Y/N," Atsumu cuts you off with a shooing motion, "go. Now. Bye bye."

"Yeah--Yeah okay," you blow a raspberry and throw a final wave, "right. Bye then."

The dining place which Kuroo has suggested a few days back -- right after the incident in which you'd found yourself into his arms -- is tucked away into one of the corner streets, not quite far from the main road, and yet unnoticeable to passerby's with just one glimpse.

It's modern and cute, casual in a way that unconsciously makes you relax slightly as you walk through the olive-coloured doorway and take in the sight of rusty brick walls adorned with green ivy running along the ceiling, the wooden furniture and the cozy bar at the far right.

Kuroo is already seated at one of the smaller, circular tables, and raises a hand in greeting while you make your way to him.

"Hey," he's dressed differently today. Not at all how you usually see him; a dark v-neck and some dark trousers to match.

The sight makes your tummy tighten deliciously, "hi," you manage to croak back.

"I really thought you were going to bail on me," he has on a teasing smile, "guess I was wrong."

"That's the impression I gave you?" your eyebrows raise.

"You always surprise me," his grin widens at the heat flushing through your cheeks. Cute, he thinks, "anyway, I've never been here but they have good cocktails. Or so google says."

"You're that kind of person aren't you?" You take a menu from the centre of the table and scan the options, "the kind that reads a hundred of reviews before deciding on a restaurant?"

"That's what it's for, isn't it?" he tilts his head at you. That same, cocky grin that turns your heart to mush.

Jesus. He really needs to stop doing that.

You look back down at the menu, "I don't know. I don't eat out much."

"Then let me be your official guide," he says it with a wink, and you can't help the chuckle that bursts out of your mouth.

As per Kuroo's recommendation, you decide to opt for a seafood pasta while your host decides on a pizza to share. The food comes right as you're halfway through your glass of wine and by then you're comfortable enough that the conversation seems to flow easily, gathered in a cocoon where only you and Kuroo exist and where everything -- even reality -- seems to fall away piece by piece.

Oh god. You're already in a bit too deep.

And the fact is, it's not even that hard to fall for Kuroo. Because he's just so nice and kind and gentle and everything that you've ever really wanted in a man. He's bashful in a way that reminds you of a pop in need of attention, careful with the way he handles your feelings, and seems forever wanting to please. And maybe that's something most girls would find off-putting given the fact that mysterious men are all the rage nowadays.

But you're not like most girls. You like this golden retriever energy coming off him. You love that he asks for your opinion and is as soft as a marshmallow on the inside.

You also love how he talks to Sakura. Not just because she's your daughter. But it had been clear from the very beginning that your daughter was a little bit in love with him.

By the end of the dinner you're not surprised to find that your leg is brushing against his casually, comfortably, as though you've been friends forever. And when you catch his golden flecked eyes from across the table, the twinkle of fire in them, the small sprinkles of molten golden mixed into warm maroon does something to your heart.

He fights to pay the bill like a true gentleman, but then splits it with you when you throw him a scowl and protest that he's done more than his fair share.

"I just wanna tell you I'm not happy about this," he grumbles as you are handing the waiter the rest of the cash for the night, slipping on his jacket with his bottom lip jutted out like a child, "I will take you out properly one day."

"Then I'm going to look forward to it," you tease.

Kuroo looks down at you, "you--you mean that right?"

"What?" you glance at him, noting the uneasiness, the surprise on his face, "that you can take me out again? Or...did you--I mean, I won't mind if you don't--"

"I don't mind one bit," he breathes and your chest exhales in relief. Gods, you thought he was going to tell you there was to be no next time.

Because again, who wants to be tied down to a single mother with a four year old toddler? Most of your tinder dates would've already blanched and snuck out of your date by now.

"I'll take you home," Kuroo is already going to unlock his car door, but your hesitation makes him falter as he takes in your hesitation, "what is it?"

"Uhm--well, Atsumu is there tonight. He's babysitting Sakura," you send him a sheepish smile, "Unless you don't mind going back there, but I--I thought we could maybe ...spend some more time alone...together?"

Heat is spewing across your cheeks by the end of your sentence, but the fond look that Kuroo gives you doesn't go by unnoticed as he cracks a grin.

"Sounds good to me," he gestures for you to get in, "wanna go get some ice cream then? Or a drink?"

That is how you find yourself sharing a couch with the sports coach, nursing a cucumber cocktail in your hand while he has a beer in his. You tease him about drinking when he's supposed to be the definition of health, and he answers that you're supposed to keep this little secret under wraps.

"I wasn't allowed to drink at all, until I left my volleyball team," Kuroo mentions then as he takes a swig of his drink.

"That sounds like a lot of sacrifice, especially for you."

"What does that mean?" he teases with a grin.

"While other boys are out there raving, experimenting with stuff," you answer and tilt your head towards him, "didn't you get jealous of what they could do and what you couldn't?"

"I suppose to an extent," he shift his legs and it brushes against your thigh, shoulders pressing to yours as warmth suddenly seeps into your right side, "but I had a lot to gain. So I never thought I missed out. Plus, all my good friends were on the team. So we suffered together if that made sense."

"Yeah," you smile at the thought of Atsumu and Osamu being deprived of house parties and clubbing when you were all younger, "it does. Actually, I was quite envious of Atsumu and Osamu when we were younger. They both knew what they wanted -- well, until Osamu decided to quit and become a chef."

"What did you want to be when you were younger?"

"Me?" your lips curled into that same crooked smile that caught Kuroo's heart into a mid-spin every single frickin' time. He knows how to breathe, just forgets to whenever you're around, "I wanted to have my own cake shop. Got the diploma, never got round to actually doing anything about it."

"How did you end up in the event planning business?"

So you tell him. About one of your neighbours asking you if you could help decorate their son's first birthday party. You didn't have the heart to say no and from there onwards, your clientele grew over the months. At some point, you'd realised this job could make ends meet, all while giving you some flexibility around Sakura's schedule.

Your diploma was stuffed at the back of a drawer at some point, forgotten and useless. You'd never gotten around to framing it.

Now, you wished you had. It brings back a bitter wave of memories, ones that are tied to Aoi and that echo with pain whenever you think for too long.

"I could start all over again but--" you think of Sakura and her sweet, smiling face. The way the light would bounce over her eyes whenever she looks up at you full of trust and honest love, "I don't think I can. I'm a bit past my prime."

Kuroo shakes his head, "okay, hear me out but--right before all this PE coach thing came my way, I was actually just a waiter."

You blink, "huh?"

"Yeah. I quit the team a few years back right after I left university, and for someone with a degree in Education and with no experience, jobs are hard to find these days," Kuroo chuckles as he takes another swig of his drink, "so I had to find part-time work while I waited. It took a few years and well-- I landed my first job just a year ago. Quit when I realised the environment was shit, and then here I am now," he lifts his shoulders in a half-shrug, "what I mean is--I don't think there's ever any real timeline for anyone. You just--do the best you can, with what you have. And if you gotta start at thirty, then that's fine too."

The bittersweet smile that fills your face is enough to render him breathless, "thanks Kuroo," you murmur softly, "I'm not sure I'm as brave as you though."

"uh--No, you're managing a four-year old by yourself," he sends you a pointed look, "that in itself is an act of courage. Not everyone can do it, especially the way you do it."

Your cheeks flame, "you flatter me--"

"But I'm not," he interrupts gently. His hand lifts up, pushing a stray strand of hair from your face and your breath hitches when his touch seems to linger there for a beat longer than he's supposed to, "I actually really do think you're like one of the bravest people I've met."

"Stop it," now you're really embarrassed, hands coming up to hide your face.

Kuroo lets out a soft laugh, "I'm just telling the truth."

"Or you're just sweet-talking me."

"Okay maybe I am, but I'm not a liar," is it your imagination that makes you believe there's a little blush scattered along his cheeks? Maybe. But you tempt yourself into believing that's your effect on him.

Kuroo looks away, though he has a smile on his face as he toys with his beer, "so did it work?" he asks.

"What?" you finish the cocktail. The alcohol stings as it slides down your throat, before it warms you up from the inside.

"The sweet-talking," and he's back with that grin of his, dashingly courageous, dashingly cute and he knows it.

You whack him playfully along his shoulder, "you're an idiot."

Kuroo mutters something that might've not reached out ears if you weren't paying attention. But you swear that he says something along the lines of "only for you" which has you blushing down to the tips of your toes all over again.

It's past two in the morning when you manage to reach your flat, now a little tipsy from all the alcohol humming through your veins. You're both laughing about something -- something stupid -- when the door to your flat flies open to reveal a grinning Atsumu.

You straighten, though wobbling in your heels. Kuroo presses a hand to your back, grounding you.

"Hey 'tsumu," you say breathlessly, feeling heat sting your spine spreading from Kuroo's fingertips.

"Well someone's tipsy," Atsumu tips his head towards the raven-haired man, "hope you didn't do anything stupid--"

"Who do you take me for?" Kuroo retorts as he prods you towards the entrance.

"Yeah I know, just checkin'," your cousin eyes the proximity of your bodies, the way Kuroo stands almost protectively behind you, and something in his eyes softens, "alright then. I'll take my leave."

"What? This late? Why don't you stay over--"

"And what?" Atsumu raises a brow at you, "watch you both suck face? No thanks. By the way," his grin widens when you turn beetroot and Kuroo almost strangles himself with surprise, "Sakura's already asleep, so no matter what, don't go wakin' her."

"I'm so sorry," you whisper out to your date when your cousin's out of earshot and Kuroo's managed to manoeuvre you into the flat, "he's not usually that annoying--"

"I know," Kuroo's lips twitch in amusement at the way you worriedly look up at him, "what? What's gotten you looking like someone ran over your pet cat?"

You gasp, "that's not nice, Kuroo sensei!"

"Kuroo," he emphasises his name. One arm going up to press against the doorframe, he leans in towards you, "actually--you can call me Tetsurou."

"Tetsurou," your head cranes up to look at him and --wow, he's tall. And he smells good. Like boy perfume and something woody, something musky you can't quite place, "That's a nice name."

"Thanks," his words trail off, body unconsciously leaning towards you. it's only then you realise how close you are, chests almost touching, noses bare millimetres, his entire frame practically engulfing your tiny one.

He's so close that you can see the way light bounces off his orbs, or the small wrinkles at the corner of his eyes that deepen whenever he smiles.

Something in your chest tightens. You swallow thickly.

And that's when you feel it; his hand skimming your waist.

You let out a sharp breath at the same time that the young man pulls you to him. Gently.

Falling against him like a puppet, hands splay out to press against his shirt and heat permeates your skin and makes you sweat because--Kuroo is ripped. You can feel it, feel him, underneath your palms. He's built like stone and you wonder briefly what he must look like without them--

Oh god.

Your face flames and that doesn't go unnoticed by the raven-haired man. He grins wickedly, his other hand reaching out to cup your jaw so that you cannot look away.

"What?" his murmur is soft like melted chocolate. It makes you weak in the knees and you're glad he's holding you up against him, "what's with the face?"

"N--Nothing," you try to steady your racing heart, "uhm...you're..." he's unconsciously leaning in towards you, as if drawn like a moth to a flame, "...you're really close."

"Seems like it," he murmurs huskily.

"I--uhm--" you shake your head slightly, biting down onto your lower lip as your eyes flutter back up to his. You notice how his pupils have darkened with something else, something that makes your stomach knot deliciously, "Kuroo?"

"Hm?"

"I'm--" you try to scramble your thoughts together, but it's hard when he's so close and when he's looking at you like that, "I'm too old for you."

His body stills, "what?"

"I'm--" shame fills you up and you look away with embarrassment as you repeat, "I'm too old for you."

"Do you really think that you're too old for me?" Kuroo asks, "or is that just an excuse?"

"I have a daughter--"

"--It's only three years' difference--"

"--And you have your whole life ahead of you to figure out what you wa--"

"--I know exactly what I want--"

"I have responsibilities and I can't--"

"Can't what?" with one tug, you fall against him. You let out a sound of shock but Kuroo's hand is insistent as he presses your spine to his body, his palm splaying out and practically enveloping all of your back, "I have responsibilities too, Kosuke-san. And yet," his eyes seem to search yours for a minute, "I can't seem to stay away."

"Like I said," you're not quite sure whether he can even hear you, because your heart seems to be galloping so hard you feel it vibrate through your ears, "I'm too old for you, you should find someone of your own age, someone who's just as ambitious, with no strings attached to them--"

"I want you."

"--and like I said, I'm a mother," you're babbling now, "and I need to put Sakura first, no matter what. I'm sorry, I don't know why I decided to come out today. I shouldn't have, this is a mistake and--"

Kuroo's hand slips to your cheek. He tugs you up, and his lips land on yours.

You freeze.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh shit shit shit.

Shit.

This isn't happening.

This isn't supposed to happen!

And yet...it is.

His mouth parts slowly, sliding over yours in such a sweet way that you let out a restrained sound from the back of your throat. Gods, even his mouth is delicious. His hand sifts through your locks to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer by the waist as he kisses your next breath away. Your chest stutters and you all but melt into him, surprise and shock overrun by the sudden desire shooting through your veins.

Your hands, initially at his chest, make a grab for his shirt as your lips follow his in a dance that leaves your heart stuttering and has you gasping for breath. But still Kuroo doesn't relent. He kisses you again and again and again, mouth weaving between yours and teeth nipping at your lips like he knows exactly what you want. A soft whimper bubbles up your throat and he grunts in satisfaction, tugging your hair down and tilting your head back to ravage your lips like there's no tomorrow.

You part after what seems like forever, a small gasp falling from your lips. But Kuroo's slides against your jaw, "god Y/N," he groans out, nipping at the skin along your jawline before slowly pressing butterfly kisses along your neck. You jolt at the suddenness of the action, mouth parting as heat bubbles up in your lower stomach while the young man presses you even closer if that's possible so that you feel every single inch of him against you.

A surprised yelp echoes out of your throat when he finds a sweet spot at the junction between your neck and collarbone. Kuroo smirks against your skin, nipping the area gently with his teeth as your hands trickle up to entangle in his locks, grabbing at them and making him grunt.

The hand along your waist flutters up your spine like a caress and you fold like leaf with the softest whine. Kuroo moves up to claim your mouth once more, kissing the rest of your logic away until you forget why you're here in the first place.

It's not until he's pressing you up against the doorframe that reality crashes back into you. You push him away gently, so gently that your mouths part with a soft sound and as you gaze up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, your heart jumps at the way he's looking at you; desire and tenderness and affection and lust all mixed in together. His chest is heaving just as much as yours is, and when you bite down onto your lower lip the growl that rumbles through his chest makes you all weak in the knees.

"That mouth," he mutters, thumb unconsciously going up to trace your lower lip. He pulls it away from your teeth so that he can trace its outline.

And then he's back to kissing you like he never stopped.

You kiss back with just as much ardour, getting lost into him and for once not caring that all sense of logic and self-restraint are now gone, evicted by the pure selfish need to have him close, closer.

His hands are everywhere; on your hips, in your hair, tracing your abdomen and making you gasp with every searing, scalding touch of palms against skin. But you press closer still, your own hands roaming his back and feeling up all the muscles that tense under your touch.

Kuroo suddenly draws away so quickly that you can't help but whine and tug him closer.

He resists with a groan, nose brushing yours as he furrows his brows, "Kosuke-san, I really cannot."

"What?" you're half-way out of focus at this point, more interested in kissing the soft skin at his jaw.

Kuroo lets out a sound between a moan and a grunt, making your insides twist with desire as his hands find your hips to pull you away, "If we continue, I won't--I don't promise I'll be able to hold back so--" he breathes out raggedly, "for the sake of my own sanity, we--we need to stop."

"Oh," you blink. It takes a moment for the words to make sense. When they do, your eyes widen on their own accord and you push him away, embarrassment flooding through you, "I--Oh, I'm sorry--"

Kuroo drops a firm kiss onto your mouth, grunting in satisfaction when you make a surprised sound, "I told you," he murmurs against your lips, "to stop saying sorry. It's gonna be the death of me."

He finally draws away and pushes your stray strands away from your face, a force of habit, it seems. Your eyes flutter up to meet his, flushing at the gentleness lying in those beautiful pupils. Throughout your relationship with Aoi, you're not sure he's ever looked at you with as much intensity as Kuroo has for the past five minutes. It does something funny to your heart.

"Right," for someone who'd been previously so adamant on not making out with the said man, you're quite frazzled. Your hands are latching onto him like you're a baby koala and he's your tree trunk, and you slide them down to your sides like a shameful kid, "yeah, I--" but you quickly retract the apology in your mouth.

Kuroo grins crookedly, that smile sending your heart into spinning cartwheels, "I'll be off then," he murmurs. His hand smoothes over the back of your head affectionately, and he leans in to press a chaste kiss to your temple.

"How far away do you live?" you have to ask. You feel bad for making him drive all the way out here, it's practically morning at this point.

"Not far," Kuroo sends you a comforting smile, "don't worry, I'll text you when I reach--"

"Do you--" the words blurt out of your mouth before you can stop them, "--do you want to stay over?"

Kuroo blinks. His mouth parts. Closes. Parts again. And then, what seems like a blush litters his cheeks.

He shakes his head, "ah--I think that's a bad idea Kosuke-san--" he spares a glance at your lips, "--especially today."

"Oh," realisation dawns and you flush, "right. Okay. Okay then."

"Don't worry. We have all our time," he grins cheekily.

"I'm still too old for y--"

Kuroo interrupts you with a kiss, "enough of that," he murmurs, "or I'm gonna have to kiss you again."

"That sounds--" your nose brushes against his, "--promising."

"Don't tempt me," he presses one last kiss right above your eye, cups your face for an instant, before he turns away towards the corridor, "goodnight Kosuke-san."

"Goodnight Kuroo," your heart melts, "can you--can you text me when you're home?"

He sends you a grin over his shoulder, "I thought you said you were too old for me?"

"I am too old for you," your face is so red you feel like you could cook an egg on top of it.

"Nah, never," he winks and before you know it, he's gone.

Leaving you and your poor, stuttering heart.

[averygrambsbankaccount]

Can you write a lyrason fic,they in the grayson's birthday please.

yes sure! I decided to combine this request with this one and also change it a bit (oops!)

(yes I know I did spin the bottle instead of drink or dare) (im sorry that it’s bad)

spin the bottle!

Lyra and Grayson weren’t exactly dating, at least not in a way that the definition of the word dating covered. They tiptoed around each-other, sneaking longing glances, and maybe one or two more stolen kisses. Or three.

If Lyra was honest, she’s a bit tired of the game. Maybe she does just want Grayson, the arrogant asshole he is, to be her actual…boyfriend.

Grayson’s birthday party wasn’t planned by him, which was obvious if you’d ever met him. His hatred of people would have never allowed something like this. Clearly, his brothers had planned this as some kind of cruel joke on him, and now he had to stand there like a puppet in his thousand dollar suit and greet everyone they invited to the party.

Honestly, Lyra was pretty happy about her invitation. The party was actually fun. She’d never been to a rich person party before, and it was certainly something else.

Maybe the most fun part, though, was watching Grayson stand there uncomfortably, his strong shoulders stiff and his back as straight as a ruler. He greeted the weird rich people who walked past him into the surrounding area, full of fairy lights and tables and food. Whoever had designed this backyard pool type party was a genius.

Lyra sat at a table by herself, sipping some weird rich people drink she assumed had alcohol in it but wasn’t entirely sure about, and she watched the blonde Hawthorne pretend to be a people person.

It’s funny how he tries to hide his awkwardness, she thought.

Someone slid into the seat across from her, and it was none other than the Hawthorne heiress, holding a champagne flute. Her brown hair cascaded down her shoulders and she looked dazzling as ever.

“You should go over and talk to him, you know,” Avery said, looking down into the depths of her drink.

“And why would I do that?” Lyra crossed her arms and leaned back in the cushioned outdoor chair. Man, these things are comfortable.

“Because you like him. And he likes you. And this forced birthday party is a really good chance to make him less uptight.” The heiress took a sip of her champagne and wiggled her manicured eyebrows.

“No way,” Lyra picked at her nails. “…Do you really think so?”

It was no secret that Avery and Jameson and most other Hawthornes and Hawthorne adjacents shipped Grayson and Lyra, but Lyra wanted to hear confirmation from the girl sitting beside her.

“Totally!” Avery leaned forward. “Do you see the way he looks at you?”

Lyra bites her lip. “Yeah.” She says, but quiet enough that it’s possible Avery didn’t hear.

“Just…give it a shot, Lyra.” Avery stands and walk back towards Jameson, who’s talking to Xander by the pool.

Lyra takes a deep breath and one more drink of her maybe alcoholic drink and stands to walk towards the stoic blonde.

I can do this. I can do this. Lyra played encouraging messages on a loop in her brain.

“Grayson.”

“Lyra.” He turned to her, the barest of smiles on the corners of his lips, but that was often the best you could get out of Grayson Hawthorne.

“I-“ Lyra cut herself off, realizing she didn’t actually know what she was going to ask.

Her eyes scanned the area around them, landing on a group of younger attendees playing spin the bottle on the grass. Lyra wasn’t a particularly crazy party type person, but she did enjoy taking risks from time to time.

A smirk appeared on her face. “Come here, Grayson.” She grabbed his arm and led him over the group.

“Could we join, please?”

“Yeah, sure!” A girl in beautiful designer gown that was definitely getting grass stains at the moment said without looking up. When she did, she seemed absolutely shocked at the man standing with Lyra. “And…him, too?”

Lyra couldn’t blame her; no one would expect Grayson Hawthorne to play spin the bottle.

“No, no.” Grayson backed away shaking his head. “Sorry. There must have been a misunderstanding.” He gave Lyra a glare.

“Sorry, he’s shy.” Lyra smiled sweetly at them, then turned to Grayson.

“Could you please, please, please, please play?” She put her best puppy dog eyes, the ones she had only ever used on her mom for extra dessert. “For me?”

She didn’t give him a choice or a chance to respond. She simply dragged him to the ground beside her, in the empty space left in the circle and said “We’re playing.”

If Lyra could have taken a picture of Grayson’s surprised face in that moment, she would’ve framed it and hung it on her wall.

She gripped onto his hand as tight as she could, her knuckles going white. She would not back down, she’s gone too far. If she doesn’t commit, she’ll be just as much of a coward as she was before Avery convinced her.

Grayson kept trying to pull away, but she refused to give in.

The bottle was spun in the middle of the big circle. It landed on two random people, two more random people, and then…Lyra.

Her breathing sped up. I did not think this through, did I?

This might be the day Lyra becomes a devout worshipper, because only God could have given her the luck it required to have the bottle spun again and land on the man beside her; Grayson Fucking Hawthorne.

Lyra didn’t want to waste time, but she did stall a bit while turning to him. Even though they had kissed before, she was still inexplicably scared. 

Her courage came in remembering Avery’s words. She liked him and he liked her, and she could make this mean something.

She grabbed his face and kissed him to the sounds of the group cheering them on. He was silent before, but his lips were anything but. Grayson kissed her back fiercely. He kissed her like no one else was there.

When Lyra pulled back, she giggled, and she looked over to see Grayson having that familiar almost-smile on his face.

“Birthday boy!” The boy sitting beside Grayson clapped on the back and laughed. “Nice, man!”

Grayson didn’t respond to him or any of the others in the group cheering on his sudden break of character, instead just looking intensely at Lyra. All these people here knew him as the stoic business man who takes himself too seriously. So to see Grayson Hawthorne make out with a girl? In front of a crowd?

Well that’s a once in a lifetime chance. That’s something.

And when Lyra led him away and they went behind a wall and kissed again she knew it was something. When they kissed for so long they forgot where they were and her head was spinning and people were looking for Grayson to sing happy birthday, she knew it was something. When Grayson walked out with her, holding her hand and not even telling her to fix her smudged lipstick, she knew it was something.

[demigod-shenanigans]

Summary: “So, are you going to properly introduce us to your daughter anytime soon?” Leo teased, looking down at the newborn. “I mean, baby McLean is cute, but it’s a bit on the nose as far as names go.”

“You called her Em, right?” Jason asked, apparently eager to get a good grade in uncle. “What's that short for?”

“Technically, her name isn’t officially anything yet,” Piper told them, wiggling into a more comfortable sitting position. “But we’d like to name her Emilia, if Leo is okay with it.”

“Huh?” Leo looked from Piper to Reyna to the baby in utter confusion. “She’s your child. Why would you need my permission to name her anything?”

Piper quirked her eyebrows at him like the answer should be obvious. The gears in his head ground to an abrupt halt. His vision started swimming with tears.

“You want to name your kid after me?”

___

Or: Leo and Jason meet Piper and Reyna’s daughter.

Written for @lost-trio-week day 5: Parents

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: General Audiences

Gentle CW for mentions of childbirth and anxieties surrounding that topic. I personally think this warning might even be overkill, but as per usual with stuff like this, my rule is better safe than sorry.

This fic is once again dedicated to my friend @queenjunothegreat, because Em was originally her baby (shared custody next gen verse my beloved <3) and she was the one who came up with her name. They also came up with the fic title because I’m useless when it comes to titles lmaooo

Soft married Valgrace & Pipeyna. Also lost trio content, obviously, specific focus once again being Leo and Piper’s friendship (can you tell I care so so much about these idiots?)

———

Leo hated hospitals. A hospital was where he’d spent the first few days after his mom’s death, being treated for smoke inhalation, and it was where his first set of awful foster parents had picked him up. 

To say his memories of that time weren’t the fondest would have been the understatement of the century.

And sure, he knew in theory that this was different. New Rome Hospital had a really low death rate for anything that wasn’t battle-related injuries. As far as he knew, there hadn’t been a childbirth-related death here in a century. Realistically, he knew Piper was fine.

Still, the time the rather frazzled-looking Asclepius legacy that had greeted them was taking to figure out where she was and whether it was alright for her to have visitors made Leo’s anxious brain spiral in all kinds of unfun directions.

“Piper might still want to get back at us for the time we both died on her,” he told Jason, anxiously wringing his hands.

His husband raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t think she’d die out of spite ten years after the fact,” he commented, squeezing Leo’s hand. “Besides, Reyna said she was doing okay, and you know how she gets about Piper.”

And yeah, alright, that was a fair enough point, but Leo’s anxiety wasn’t exactly great at listening to reason. It never had been.

Nothing would calm him down until he’d seen with his own two eyes that Piper was doing okay.

“If we ever have a kid, we’re adopting,” he sighed into his husband’s shoulder. 

Jason laughed, nuzzling him gently before leaning down to kiss him.

Jason’s lips were a little scabbed from where he had anxiously chewed on them.

“You’re such a hypocrite, you know that, right?” Leo teased, grinning up at his husband. “Thank the gods I got rid of all the staplers, or you might have started chewing on those, too. We cannot have you set that kind of example for baby McLean.”

“Will you ever let that one go?” Jason groaned, rolling his eyes. “I was two.” 

“What kind of husband would I be if I did let it go, hm?” Leo asked, kissing him again.

Someone cleared their throat. A few years back, this might have made them jump apart like embarrassed children, but now, Leo pulled back slowly, eyes lingering on his husband a while longer.

He’d dragged Jason back out of the Underworld by the collar of his stupid school uniform when they’d been seventeen. He was allowed to be disgustingly in love in public. The people could deal.

The Asclepius legacy stood there again, staring down at his clipboard awkwardly. Leo was pretty sure the guy was younger than him—he looked barely older than twenty. 

“Room 201. I wouldn’t recommend staying long—mother and child are both exhausted and will need plenty of rest. And wash your hands before you-”

“Okay, yeah, we’re not complete idiots,” Leo interrupted him. He’d washed his hands four times since getting to the hospital, just because it had given him something to do. 

He was moving in an instant, dragging his husband along with him. Thankfully, his ankle had the decency not to be too much of an ass today.

“You’re going in the wrong direction,” Jason commented, voice tinged with amusement as he pulled him back the way they’d come. 

“Why do you know that?” Leo asked, raising an eyebrow. “Just how much time did you spend here as a kid?”

Jason ignored him and kept walking.

~~~~

Leo wanted to knock on that stupid blue door. Really, he did.

So he wasn’t sure why it was that, instead of knocking, he stuffed his hands into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie and just stared at the door like a total idiot.

His outfit wasn’t fancy, but it was clean, which was more than could be said for the clothes he’d worn in the workshop earlier that day. He wasn’t as bad as his husband, who Leo had had to talk out of wearing a suit to the hospital because he was worried about making a good first impression, but he was suddenly worried that maybe he still smelled of motor oil. 

The kid would not remember, obviously, but he thought if the first thing he did was upset Piper’s baby, that would still suck. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if they didn’t like him.

Jason squeezed his shoulder. “Mi vida, you're gonna make a great uncle, you know that, right?”

“Duh. I’m incredible,” Leo announced, continuing to stare at the door. 

As always, his husband saw right through him—not that Leo was making it especially hard to do so right now.

“They’re gonna love you. I mean it.” Jason nudged him. “You’re great with the kids we help at the shelter.”

“I mean, I guess,” Leo mumbled, but his shoulders relaxed, just a fraction. “If all else fails, I suppose I can always bribe them with candy once they’re a little older.”

Jason laughed, and Leo finally managed to make himself knock.

It was Reyna who opened the door. She wasn’t even the one who’d had the baby, but she still looked as much of a fucking disaster as Leo had ever seen her. She had deep rings under her reddened eyes and was wearing what Leo was decently sure were rumpled pajamas. Her hair had come loose from its usual neat braid and exploded in messy waves around her shoulders.

“It turns out my daughter is really fond of my hair,” Reyna explained dryly, but there was a softness in her eyes that was usually reserved for Piper. “Come in.”

She moved back to her wife’s bedside in an instant. 

Piper looked… honestly, Leo had seen her look way worse. Her safety scissors bob didn’t look a lot more messy than usual, if he was being honest. Her skin was sweat-damp and she was obviously exhausted, but no one had stabbed her or tried to cook her into soup, which was definitely a plus.

Well, that and the way she was smiling down at the tiny bundle in her arms.

“Hey Pipes,” Leo said, raising his hand in a ridiculous wave as he moved to stand at her side.

“Hey.” Piper smiled up at them. “Glad you guys could make it. I’d wave back, but I’m holding a baby right now, so.”

The baby was small, but in the way Leo assumed newborns usually were. She had just the slightest hint of dark hair and equally dark eyes and was dressed in a small orange onesie.

She was looking right at him.

“She’s got your nose.” Leo paused. “Well, a very tiny copy of your nose. You’ve kept your own nose, as far as I can tell.”

“You’re lucky I love you as much as I do,” Piper sighed, poking her daughter in the nose in question. “Your tío is a bit of an idiot, but you’re going to love him, too. Trust me.”

The baby cooed happily.

“Great.” Leo groaned dramatically. “I’m being bullied by a newborn.”

Piper laughed.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked, though Leo knew the baby had about 95% of his husband’s attention right now.

Jason had been pulling faces at her literally since they’d walked in the door. 

He’d always been that way around kids, but babies were especially bad. They activated a protective, wildly affectionate parental instinct that Leo had to assume came from Jason’s wolf boy months because he definitely hadn’t gotten it from either of his parents.

It was endearing as hell, but had the unfortunate side effect that it had always made Leo think about a kid of their own, including back when he hadn’t felt even slightly ready for one.

“Exhausted. Content. A little embarrassed.” Piper burst into another fit of tired laughter. “I sort of yelled at my wife to get out. Twice. Which would have been fine, except I was apparently using charmspeak.”

“That you even told her to get out at all seems wildly unfair towards Reyna considering you guys didn’t even have sex,” Leo commented, raising an eyebrow at Piper. “This is, like, objectively not on her.”

Reyna snorted, which was always a massive win in Leo’s book. He’d had a hard time figuring out what sort of jokes made her laugh, and every time he managed, he felt immensely proud of himself.

“Nuh-uh,” Piper protested immediately. “Em may be a magic IVF baby, but she’s a magic IVF baby we both decided to have, so it’s still at least fifty percent Reyna’s fault.”

“That’s a responsibility I will gladly accept. She’s mine and she’s yours and I would not change that for anything in the world.” Reyna pressed a soft kiss to her wife’s forehead. Then she reached down towards her daughter. The baby happily grasped her fingers. 

Reyna’s usual serious expression had melted away into a smile that was so sweet Leo thought it’d give him a toothache. 

“Yeah, okay, we get it, you guys are adorable,” he commented, because he was a total hypocrite when it came to other people’s PDA. “But what I really want to know is how far out of the hospital you got before the charmspeak wore off.”

“The first time I realized by the end of the hallway. The second time I made it all the way out to the parking lot. How Piper had that kind of energy, I’ll never understand.” Reyna shook her head, a kind of quiet awe in her voice. “Though perhaps worse than me leaving for a few minutes was the fact that the second time it happened, it also affected the midwife.”

Jason abruptly stopped pulling faces at Em to look up at Piper with a horrified expression.

“That sounds terrifying. Are you okay?”

“It was scary as hell at the time.” Piper shrugged. “Looking back on it, it's mostly just funny.”

“You continue to be the strongest warrior I know,” Reyna told her fondly, leaning down to kiss her.

“Love, I was an absolute terror and you know it.” Piper beamed at her wife. “You are cute, though, so maybe I’ll allow it.”

“So, are you going to properly introduce us to your daughter anytime soon?” Leo teased, looking down at the newborn again. “I mean, baby McLean is cute, but it’s a bit on the nose as far as names go.”

“You called her Em, right?” Jason asked, apparently eager to get a good grade in uncle. He looked like he might genuinely explode if he didn’t get to hold the baby within the next three seconds, but also like he’d bravely bear that fate because he didn’t want to be rude. “What's that short for?”

“Technically, her name isn’t officially anything yet,” Piper told them, wiggling into a more comfortable sitting position. “But we’d like to name her Emilia, if Leo is okay with it.”

“Huh?” Leo looked from Piper to Reyna to the baby in utter confusion. “She’s your child. Why would you need my permission to name her anything?”

Piper quirked her eyebrows at him like the answer should be obvious.

The gears in his head ground to an abrupt halt. His vision started swimming with tears.

“You want to name your kid after me?” 

Leo hadn’t gone by Emilio since before he’d met Piper. He’d almost forgotten she knew his full name. 

“Only if you’re okay with it,” Piper told him, suddenly looking awkward. “I know why you don’t use the name for yourself, but I figured just naming her Lea might be confusing. Sorry, I probably should have asked you sooner. If you don’t want-”

“No, no, if you guys really want that, I’d be honored. But like- why?” he asked in utter disbelief. “Why me, out of all people?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” Piper said, smiling at him. “Because you’re brave and smart and the best person I know. Because you defied fate and found happiness despite all odds. Because I’ll be lucky if she grows up to be even a little bit like you.”

Leo turned to Reyna. He could feel the tears running down his cheeks. “You’re okay with that?”

Reyna nodded, her expression solemn. “If names really do have power, yours is the greatest blessing we can give her.”

Leo was absolutely bawling his eyes out. His husband wrapped an arm around his shaking shoulders and soothingly ran a hand up and down the length of his arm.

“She’s the luckiest kid in the universe,” Jason told him, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. 

Leo had thought himself a curse for most of his childhood. He’d gotten better about it in recent years, since he’d made peace with his mother’s death and led Jason back out of the Underworld, but the pain had never fully faded.

Piper and Reyna associating his name with joy—choosing it for their daughter to make sure she’d be happy —was hitting him on a level he couldn’t fully process. 

It had been one thing to know on a theoretical level that Piper wanted him to be her child’s godfather—minus the religious connotations. 

But this? To know his best friend not only trusted him with the smallest, most precious human being Leo had ever met, but that she trusted his name to keep her safe? He genuinely didn’t think he would ever recover from that.

“I love you guys,” he sniffled. “So much.”

He knew that was a deeply uncool reaction. Maybe he should have been all smug and braggy about the whole thing. Maybe he would be, later, once everything had properly sunken in.

But right now, he couldn’t stop crying.

”And we love you right back,” Piper said with a soft smile, leaning forward and holding her armful of curious baby out towards him. “You’re not getting out of holding your niece, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” He sniffled. 

Leo had been terrified of holding Em basically since he knew she existed. He’d never been able to bring himself to hold Percy and Annabeth’s kid, despite all the times they’d babysat back in college. It had been easy enough to pass the job off to Jason, who loved holding babies.

That way, Leo could avoid any potential disasters. No way he could drop a baby he never even held, right?

He’d known that Piper wouldn’t let him get away with that when it came to her child, and that knowledge had scared the hell out of him for months. What if he screwed up? What if he did it wrong and somehow hurt the baby?

But Piper was holding Em out towards him, an expression of utter trust on her face, and Leo couldn’t do anything but reach out to take his tiny niece from her arms, trying to mirror the way Piper had held her.

Emilia stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. Her weight felt awkward in his arms.

“Gods, I’m totally messing this up, aren’t I?”

“You’re really not,” Piper reassured him. “Just make sure you’re supporting her head. Here, I’ll-” She tried to lean forward, but stopped, wincing.

“Hermosa, you’re supposed to be resting,” Reyna told her, voice firm and concerned. 

She was smiling at Leo, but she was also wringing her hands, watching him closely like maybe she was expecting him to drop her daughter. 

That made two of them.

Leo could easily picture her vaulting over the bed to catch her child if that happened, though that weirdly didn’t make him feel a lot better about the possibility.

“Don’t mind my lovely wife. Rey’s just nervous,” Piper whispered, patting his arm. “You’re the first person aside from us and the hospital staff who gets to hold Em.”

“If you’re trying to make me less nervous, reminding me that I’m messing up one of Emilia’s first experiences with being held was not the way to go,” Leo joked, trying to shift the baby in his arms. This was not very effective, seeing as he had no idea what he was doing.

“I can help, if you want,” Jason volunteered immediately. He waited for Leo to nod, then put his hands over Leo’s and carefully adjusted his hold on Em a bit. “Here. Just support her head a little more. You’re doing great, mi vida.”

Emilia’s weight felt a little less awkward in his arms now. Leo relaxed a fraction, smiling down at her.

“Thanks for the assist.” 

“Always.” Jason nuzzled Leo’s cheek. “You were barely even messing up. You just have a tendency to overthink things when you’re nervous.”

“Says the guy who almost came here in a suit,” Leo commented, but he didn’t look up. His entire focus was on the newborn in his arms. He was mesmerized.

“Hi, sobrinita.” He was still sniffling, but he hadn't made his niece cry yet, so he was counting that as a win. “Gods, you’re a literal baby and somehow I’m the one wailing at you. So much for decent first impressions, hm?”

Emilia cooed at him. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he agreed, nodding his head at his niece. Holding her grew easier with each passing moment. She was looking at him like he was the only person in the universe. 

Leo loved her immediately.

He couldn’t believe he’d been as anxious as he had about holding her. He couldn’t believe he’d almost made himself miss out on this.

 “Pipes, I hope you’re not expecting me to say no to her, ever, because I can tell you right now that it’s not gonna happen.”

Piper laughed. “Oh, please. Your job was never going to be responsible godfather. If that was what I was looking for, I’d have picked someone else.”

“We’re gonna get into so much trouble together,” he whispered to Em, grinning at her. 

This time, Emilia didn’t smile back at him. Instead she scrunched up her face and started crying.

Leo froze.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I did, I was just-”

“Babies cry. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Piper told him gently. “I can’t believe she’s been as quiet as she has since you two came in, honestly. This is the calmest she’s been since she was born.”

“Oh.” Leo had almost managed to stop crying, but that made him start up again. 

“She cried when I first held her, too,” Reyna told him. When he looked up at her, he could tell some of the tension had gone out of her shoulders, despite the fact that he’d just managed to upset her daughter. “I’m glad she’ll grow up knowing her emotions aren’t something to fear.”

Leo hadn’t even considered thinking about it like that, but it made sense that Reyna would. When he’d first met her, there would have been no way for him to tell if she’d cried—if she’d allowed herself to cry at all.

He looked at her red-rimmed eyes again, the expression on her face genuine and fond, and could immediately feel more tears running down his cheeks. He’d have walked over and hugged her this instant if it hadn’t been for the newborn in his arms.

“Yeah.” Leo sniffled. “Me too.”

He was pretty sure he hadn’t cried this many happy tears since Jason had started reciting his wedding vows in slightly awkward Spanish.

“Can I-” Jason asked, gesturing vaguely towards Emilia. When Leo and Piper both nodded, he took the baby into his own arms, rocking her gently. His expression immediately melted into the world’s softest smile.

Seeing them like this, Leo would have married him again in an instant.

“She’s probably overstimulated. This is the most people she’s ever met in her life,” Jason concluded once he’d managed to soothe her a little. 

“I get it. People are really overwhelming.” Leo wiped at his eyes. “I still can’t believe my stupid sewer rat face is, like, the fifth face this poor kid has ever seen. She did not need to be exposed to sewer rats this early in her life.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your face,” Jason protested immediately. “I like your face.”

“You’re married to me. You’re supposed to say that,” Leo teased, but he still found himself smiling. “We should probably leave you guys for the day, hm? You three all look like you could use a nap.”

“As long as you promise you’ll be back soon,” Piper insisted, smiling up at them as Jason—very reluctantly—handed Emilia back to her. “Hi, sweetie. You’re a little sleepy, hm?”

Emilia yawned in agreement.

“You’re not getting rid of us that easily.” Leo grinned at his best friend.

“Thanks for coming here as soon as you did. And, you know, for all the other sappy stuff I’m not going to say right now because I think we’ve all cried enough for one day.”

“Yeah. Gotta save some of that for tomorrow,” Leo agreed, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. Then he reached out, gently pressing his finger into his niece’s palm. “Bye bye, Emilia. Be nice to your moms, okay?” 

Her hand closed into a fist, holding his finger tightly. 

Leo let out a startled laugh.

“She’s got excellent reflexes,” Reyna said proudly.

“Yeah, well, I guess that means we’re not leaving yet. I’m really not sure how I’ll ever get out of this finger trap without the ability to turn into an iguana.”

Both Piper and Jason immediately cracked up. Reyna just looked confused. Leo made a mental note to tell her that particular story some other time.

“Anything we should bring you tomorrow?” Jason asked. He looked Reyna over. “Do you want some clothes that aren’t, uh-”

“…pajamas?” Reyna laughed. “Yes. That would be great. I checked the hospital bag about fourteen times to make sure we’d packed everything we might need, but it somehow did not occur to me that we’d be leaving in the middle of the night, nor that I’d need to pack any clothes for myself.”

“I want a large coffee and the least healthy pastry you can find,” Piper said immediately. “Reyna has everything else covered.”

Leo laughed. He reluctantly removed his finger from Em’s grasp, linking his hand with his husband’s as they left.

And, well, if he spent the rest of the evening baking horrendously sugary pastries, that was nobody’s business but his own.

———

Fic Notes:

-Fun fact! I edited this at 3 am last night and then I didn’t even post it because I couldn’t think of a title. It is now, once again, 3 am. My sleep schedule is doing great, thanks for asking.

-The concept of “names have power” is so interesting to toy with specifically in a context like this. Because like, objectively, Leo has had a lot of bad stuff happen to him. He’d never even considered thinking of his name as a blessing before this. But few demigod or legacies lead easy lives, and in the end the thing that outweighs anything else is that he’s managed to find happiness, despite the odds being stacked against him.

-Also, considering Reyna has a prophecy hanging over her head that’s specifically linked to family legacy, it just makes sense for her and Piper to choose Leo’s name. What better way to protect your child from a prophecy than giving her the name of someone who defied his fate?

-Would really like to eventually go into Reyna’s feelings on all this more, but that deserves a whole fic of its own.

-For anyone who’d like context on the Emilio thing, the very basic idea of that being Leo’s full name and him never using it is that his mom always used his full name and he’s terrified he’ll forget what it sounded like if other people use it, because no one ever says it quite like she did.

-Here’s a little fic Juno wrote about Piper finding out Leo’s full name for anyone who wants a little extra context!

-“But canonically his name is Leonidas.” As far as I’m aware, Rick actually confirmed his name is just Leo. Also, this is a fanfic, I can therefore do whatever I want :)

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, as always, extremely appreciated.

[blueishspace]

Hero, villain god 36

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*Mumbo's pov*

Ever since that weird conversation you had a few days ago you have been looking into who mother spore could be ...You honestly thought it would be...well, not easy per say, but you thought you could at least find something on who mother spore could really be... Anything on her identity.

Perhaps mentions of her prior to when she appeared in your lab? Or another criminal with similiar abilities? A vigilante? An hero? But you found nothing of the sort, you found exactly zero mentions of anyone that could even come close to resembling her in description.

She is quite tall so you restricted the search to that general height but you found nothing, you expanded the search and still nothing. You found cases of people with mushroom or spores or even decay themed abilities but none of them resemble Mother Spore's. Maybe her powers is actually a very hidden type of technology? If so you must be much more ignorant of technology then you thought yourself to be. Maybe a mutation of some kind but if so why is it not recorded anywhere.

You were always a bit suspicious of her considering how she quite literally dropped into your life so suddenly but this... This is truly baffling, It's like she didn't exist and then just appeared one day in your lab...

...

...It's a bit enticing even, she has built this idea that's she's the brawn to your brain...the power to your mind... but she's clearly extremely well versed in covering up her traces or is in contact with someone else who is.

It's fascinating on an intellectual level but it's also terrifying on a personal one.

You were already suspicious of why she would need access to your network when you still didn't know she had managed to scrape off everything about her from the entire internet but now that you do knoe It's doubly as suspect... It seems you'll have to keep her extremely close....You have to know more...no, you need to know more. For your own safety at the very least.

*Cub's pov*

Grian is... Well, you don't particularly trust him yet, trust is not given easily especially by you and he's been in your life for a very short time.. looking at the calendar It's not even been a few weeks since you've met him and you talked like twice in that time.

He looks like a good guy so he has that going on for him, polite, pretty smart too as far as you can see... Scar has really taken a liking to him and now he's even met his sister and her friend group.

...You are happy for him of course, he deserves to have people outside of you to turn to, but it's hard to ignore how risky of a situation it is. It's not just Grian anymore, It's a group of strangers neither you or Scar know anything about...and even if they really are as good people as it seems they are from a glance there's always going to be the risk of Scar revealing to them too much and blowing both of their covers. It's anxiety inducing more then anything...

Still you decide to tolerate Grian for now, Scar might be oblivious at times but he's a good judge of character most of the time, so if he likes the new guy that much you'll give him a shot.

...

Then comes the medical examination, Scar thought it would be ideal for you to do one to Grian as well since you already do his pretty regularly. You can see the merit in that and agree easily, it would be easier to do both instead of letting the association do Grian's and then having to deal with them more then you already have to.

Which is what brought you here...with a machine breaking the moment you tried to analyze Grian's blood and multiple dna tests result coming out empty.

That is... definitely not normal. You have heard of powers changing the structure of dna before but never to this extent. It's not unheard of maybe but still, weird enough to keep on your mind, there might be more to Grian's power then it seems and knowing what could be helpful in the long run. You really hope there isn't something nefarious going on because you don't want to think of how Scar would react if there was.

"Scar?"

"Uh? Yes?"

"There were some complications with the tests"

"Oh no! Is anything broken??"

"Nothing important don't worry...just, bring Grian back for another visit soon. It's important."

"Alright!"

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Don't mind me....

Just casually thinking about how Wooly might just be like Amanda with different coping mechanisms. LET'S DISCUSS!

I'm talking specfically about Wooly's verse in Play My Way.

"Now watch us play our part. Now watch us dance and sing. Don't let it break your heart just play along and never-"

We see an image of Wooly half in demon form. (Similar to Amanda in the lonely kitten scene). And then we see Wooly covered in blood. But I realized something... is it just me or...

Do these blood patterns look kind of similar? Was it foreshadowing? Or is it telling us what really happened... so as far as I can deduce... Wooly lost control over himself, demoned out, and killed Mr. Fox. Amanda prolly hid the body for him but not after playing with it a little cuz it's Amanda you know how she is. Morbid girl's gotta get her thrills somehow. ANYWAY- I find it interesting how Wooly says "just play along and never-" before those two frames show up. Because... what is something Wooly is ALWAYS doing? Playing along, to the point he raises suspicion from both Amanda and the audience. But considering the way all these images line up... could playing along be some way of maintaining control? Over himself and the situation? My personal headcanon/theory is that Wooly for the most part is in this for himself. I mean like post being trapped in here he doesn't seem to pay any notice to the children getting trapped and he doesn't seem to really care about Amanda's wellbeing. Well he does, like he shows concern for her but he never acts on it. So... I think most of his actions in the games are more for his own self interest and peace of mind. A way of maintaining his own sanity by simply bottling things up and ignoring the problem. I'm not saying he was never a Hameln employee whether it be a doctor or child actor... but I don't think his actions are in Hameln's interest anymore. Heck, it's always a possibility he was put in here with Amanda as a punishment of some sort. That said, my main theory about Wooly is that he was a child actor who had been with Hameln much longer than Amanda.

Anyway, this video gave me a new interpretation of Wooly. Wooly is very much like Amanda, where he has his own demon to control and his own Hameln trauma probably. He just handles it in a much different way. He bottles things up and plays along as a way of keeping control and certainty over himself and the situation. But just like Amanda, he has his breaking points and is prone to snap. It's possible that especially in the first game, if I'm right that this takes place before that, he might've been repressing extra hard out of fear that he might snap again. But in the second game, it seems like he's beginning to break down again, especially towards the end and in the "We can Fix it!" tape. I really hope we see one or both Amanda and Wooly demon-out again because I really want to know how that whole thing works. The demons appear when their upset but not every time they are upset. They seem to demon-out when they are having a complete breakdown but what is this exactly? Is the demon taking over their TV counterpart? Why? Plus, why does this lead to violence? All I can say for sure is I am so hyped to learn more about Amanda and Wooly in the third game. I really hope we get more demon lore too!

[kathlare]

unfinished business

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie finds herself confiding in Gracie Abrams backstage about an unexpected encounter with Lando Norris at a recent party. Their conversation unravels Amelie's unresolved emotions and the complicated history between her and Lando.

Wordcount: 1.2 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

August 7th, 2024 - Los Angeles, CA

Amelie sat on the leather couch in Gracie Abrams’ dressing room, the lights from the vanity mirror casting a soft glow on her features. She looked exhausted but content, having just finished a grueling leg of her Emails I Can't Send tour in Asia. It felt surreal to be back in Los Angeles, where the bustling energy of the city mixed with the excitement of Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour. Amelie was opening for Taylor later this month in Mexico, but for now, she had a bit of time to herself before the madness started again.

Gracie sat beside her, adjusting her stage outfit in front of the mirror. Gracie had been kind enough to let Amelie hang out in her dressing room before her own set, and it was a relief for Amelie to finally have someone to talk to.

—So, I ran into Lando again,— Amelie muttered, her voice laced with frustration.

Gracie’s head snapped up from the mirror, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. She already knew about Lando—the history between them was no secret. From their days playing video games in 2020, to their short but intense relationship in 2021, Gracie had heard it all. She knew how much Amelie tried to move on, but no matter how hard she tried, Lando’s presence lingered in the back of her mind.

—No way, where?!— Gracie leaned in, her eyes wide with excitement. —Spill, I need details.—

Amelie took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. —It was at Penelope's birthday party in Monaco, just a couple of weeks ago. Honestly, I didn’t even know if I was ready to see him again, but there he was.— She paused, her frustration bubbling to the surface. —And he looked... he looked so damn good. Like, it’s not even fair. How does he do it?—

Gracie smirked, her lips curving into a mischievous smile as she turned fully to face Amelie. —Okay, but did he say anything? Or was it one of those 'awkward glance across the room while the sexual tension suffocates everyone else' kind of moments?—

Amelie let out a dry laugh, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. —Oh, he said something, all right. He came over to say hi like nothing had ever happened between us, all casual and charming. He even asked how I’ve been, like he genuinely gave a shit.— She groaned, covering her face with her hands for a moment before looking at Gracie again. —And then, as if the universe wanted to mess with me even more, he was just... nice. He didn’t try to flirt or make things weird. He was just... Lando.—

Gracie leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees. —And that’s what gets to you, isn’t it? That he can just be so fucking effortless while you’re sitting here overthinking everything. Classic guy move.—

—Exactly!— Amelie exclaimed, throwing her hands up. —It’s like, how dare you show up looking like that and being all calm and composed when we have so much... history. I was ready to ignore him all night, you know? I had a plan. But then he had to go and smile at me, and suddenly I couldn’t even remember why I was mad in the first place.—

Gracie gave her a sympathetic smile, scooting closer to Amelie on the couch. —It’s because you’re not really over him. And before you start with the 'I don’t love him anymore' speech, I get it. You don’t have to be in love with someone to still feel... something. Especially when things ended the way they did.—

Amelie sighed, leaning her head back against the couch. —I don’t even know if it’s him I miss, or just... what we had. It was so easy with him at first. He made me laugh when I thought I’d never feel happy again. And for a while, it felt like he was the only person who really saw me, you know? Not Amelie the actress or the singer. Just me.—

Gracie reached out and squeezed Amelie’s hand. —I get that. But if he made you feel that way, why did it go so wrong? What’s stopping you from... trying again?—

Amelie hesitated, biting her lip as she considered the question. —Because he hurt me, Gracie. He made me feel like I wasn’t enough, like my career and my life were too much for him to handle. And I know I wasn’t perfect either—I was busy, distracted, and maybe not as present as I should’ve been. But he started talking to someone else while we were still figuring things out, and that broke me. I don’t think I’ve forgiven him for that.—

Gracie’s face softened, her usual playful demeanor replaced with genuine concern. —That’s valid, Am. What he did was shitty, and you’re allowed to still be angry about it. But... do you think he regrets it? Do you think he’s changed?—

Amelie shrugged, picking at the hem of her oversized sweatshirt. —I don’t know. Maybe. He seemed different at the party, like he’s grown up a bit. But I’m scared, Gracie. What if I let him back in, and he does it again? Or worse, what if I’m just some lingering crush he can’t let go of, and it doesn’t mean as much to him as it does to me?—

Gracie leaned back, crossing her arms as she thought. —You’re overthinking it. But honestly, if you still feel this strongly about him—even after everything—you owe it to yourself to figure out what that means. Whether that’s telling him how you feel or deciding to truly let it go, you can’t keep living in this limbo. It’s not fair to you, and it’s definitely not fair to whoever comes next in your life.—

Amelie nodded slowly, her fingers drumming against her knee. —I just... I don’t want to look weak, you know? Like, if I even hint at wanting him back, he’ll think he has all the power. And I can’t be that girl, Gracie. Not again.—

Gracie gave her a firm look. —Wanting someone back doesn’t make you weak, Ames. It makes you human. But if you’re going to do it, you have to do it on your terms. You set the boundaries, you call the shots. And if he’s serious about you, he’ll respect that. If not, then fuck him. You’ll know you tried.—

Amelie let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. —I hate that you’re making sense right now. It’s so annoying.—

Gracie grinned, leaning over to bump her shoulder against Amelie’s. —That’s what I’m here for. To annoy you with good advice and remind you that you’re a badass who deserves someone who’s all in. Whether that’s Lando or not, only you can decide.—

The room fell silent for a moment, the distant hum of the concert venue filling the space. Amelie stared at the floor, her mind racing with memories and emotions she thought she’d buried long ago.

—Do you think he still cares?— she asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.

Gracie hesitated before answering, her voice gentle. —I think... if he looked at you the way you’re describing, then yeah. He cares. But the real question is, does he care enough to make it right?—

Amelie didn’t respond, her thoughts too tangled to put into words. All she knew was that seeing Lando again had stirred something in her, something she wasn’t sure she was ready to confront.

But maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop running from it.